Specter of the Past by Zahn Timothy

Author:Zahn, Timothy [Zahn, Timothy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

16

“Well, General,” Admiral Pellaeon said, leaning back in his seat as he accepted a small glass of Kareas brandy from the other, “how are things at Yaga Minor?”

“About the same as always, Admiral,” High General Hestiv said, waving at the distant planet centered in his office viewport as he poured a little of the brandy into his own glass and sat down again behind his datacard-strewn desk. “Very quiet.”

“I understand there’s been some recent unrest among segments of the Yagai population,” Pellaeon said.

“Completely negligible,” Hestiv said, waving a hand in dismissal. “Actually, since the overwhelming majority of the populace is completely loyal, they mostly take care of the handful of dissenters themselves. The only time we normally have to lift a finger is to protect the dissidents from overzealous loyalists.”

“Allowing you to take the moral high ground.”

“Exactly,” Hestiv said. “It makes for a refreshing change from our usual image among aliens.”

“Yes,” Pellaeon murmured, sipping his drink. “A pity the Emperor didn’t work harder at that kind of public relations himself twenty years ago.”

“A pity someone who wasn’t so insanely blind with power didn’t overthrow him while there was still time,” Hestiv countered, an edge of bitterness in his voice. “There must have been hundreds of competent administrators or Fleet officers who could have kept the Empire alive.”

Pellaeon felt a catch in his throat. “There was one, at least,” he said quietly.

Hestiv’s lip twitched. “Yes—Grand Admiral Thrawn. I’ve always regretted the fact that I never had the chance to meet him.”

For a moment the two men sat in silence. Then Hestiv cleared his throat. “But I don’t suppose it gains us anything to count the might-have-beens,” he said. “That was the past, this is the present; and I presume, Admiral, that you’re here to discuss the future.”

Pellaeon took another sip of his drink. “Yes,” he said, watching the other closely. “To put it bluntly, the war against the New Republic is over, and we’ve lost. In my professional military opinion, it’s time to talk peace.”

The muscles around Hestiv’s eyes tightened. “You mean surrender.”

“I’ll be negotiating for terms,” Pellaeon said. “If I do a proper job, I think we should be able to keep most of what we have.”

Hestiv snorted. “Such as it is.”

“We still control over a thousand inhabited systems,” Pellaeon reminded him mildly. “Would you prefer we allow the New Republic to whittle that number down further before we accept the inevitable?”

“The New Republic’s in no shape to do much whittling at the moment,” Hestiv said. “It looks to me like they’re poised to go for each other’s throats, not ours.”

“Certainly they have problems,” Pellaeon said. “But if you’re expecting them to collapse into a full-fledged civil war over Caamas or anything else, I think you’re being unrealistic.”

“Begging the Admiral’s pardon, but I respectfully disagree,” Hestiv said. “Particularly if we engaged in a little judicious pushing of our own.”

Pellaeon stifled a sigh. Yet another argument he’d heard over and over again on this trip. “So you’d have us encourage them in their self-destruction,” he said.

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