Chapter Text
Jagged Fel stepped foot onto Karaxis for the first time in years. Yes, he had promised Danni Quee and Finn that he would help out the planet and its environmental resources, and that was exactly what he sought out to do; but it looked like people had better plans.
“We’ve been cleared to land, Sir,” his pilot announced.
Fel nodded his head, his head slumped back on the chair, as he savored the few moments of peace and tranquility he had. All of the Moffs and commanders would be on his neck the minute he called off the war, he knew, but that was what needed to be done.
Karaxis was a warzone—it looked exactly like it did when, briefly, the First Order ruled it. Scattered roads and pavements were now used for ground fights, and even though the Imperial military took the defensive action against the Karaxians, they were still aggressive and fierce at the rebels.It was clear that despite Jag’s wishes for peace on the planet, that wasn’t going to happen without his direct intervention. Besides, he had just gotten off a call with Jaina, who explained to him that their family were too busy handling threats against the Hapan Royal Family. That meant that Leia couldn’t help get the votes she needed in the senate to withdraw the government from Karaxis. So that meant that he had to find another way to end this war.
And to him, the best way to do that was to have a chat with Finn directly. If that didn’t work, then, he’d pull out all of his military—it wasn’t worth it. Such an action was not an act he could do without the support from the Moffs and high-up generals, but he didn’t care—not right now. War wasn’t worth it, and it had been going on for much too long now.
He stepped onto the planet, generals and officers following him, as he led himself to the building Finn told him to meet at. It was a rather small apartment complex, and Finn sat in the lobby, giving Jag a soft smile. All of the curtains were drawn to allow the two men to have some privacy in the small space.
“I’m glad you came,” Finn said.
Jag sat beside him. “Anytime.”
“Have you talked to Leia at all?” he asked, wanting to know about her thoughts on the war.
He cleared his throat, and nodded his head at his security, making them step outside the room. “Yes—but she is busy with personal matters, so I am afraid the New Republic will not address the conflict, at least not now.”
“Hmm…”
“Is there any chance you can withdraw your forces? Just so things can calm down until Leia can help out.”
“No,” Finn said. “That’s not going to help the issue.”
Jag took a deep breath. “Alright…alright.” Wonderful, thought Jag, it was time for plan two. “Look, the New Republic is organizing itself into more of an alliance…an alliance that is less central than the New Republic or my Empire. From what it seems, the planets under the jurisdiction of the Galactic Alliance will have their own governing systems, and if an attack happens on the planet, the Alliance will send their fleets and fighters to help.”
Finn’s eyes lit up with only what Jag could describe as hope. But he still kept his guard up, no matter what, since the Empire’s hold on the planet was still what was bothering him the most. It was either the planet would be allied with the New Republic turned Galactic Alliance, or the Empire—not both. “That sounds promising…but I’m sure there’s a catch.”
“A catch?” Jag shook his head. “No.”
“What about the Empire?”
He took a deep breath. “I'm withdrawing my troops.”
“All of them?”
“Affirmative.” Fel stood up from the chair, tired of sitting due to the long journey from Bastion to Karaxis.
“Is that what you’re here for? To make a deal with me that only favors me, and not the Imperial Remnant?” This meeting, almost, was too easy, being that Fel lost more support and profit and alliances if he did remove his military. “There’s got to be something else at play, here, I’m sorry.”
In a worried and deep voice, he turned to face him. “Is that what you think of me?” The Emperor had a tinge of concern in his speech.
“No—not entirely…I just want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons.”
“Yes. I’m putting you and the Karaxians in mind. Haven’t you all lost enough? I am sorry I couldn’t do this sooner.”
All Finn did was nod his head. The Force aided him, as it always did, in understanding the intentions of other people, and since Jag didn’t have such a thing to defend himself from this, that was what Finn sought out to do. And when he did so, Finn felt nothing—no catch, no hidden or negative intentions, just the idea that yes, indeed, Fel was telling the truth; yet, there was also a heavy emotion of impending doom and sorrow in the Emperor. With that, Finn determined that this decision wouldn’t benefit Fel in the slightest, but he was still doing it.
“Alright.” Finn stood up and followed Fel around the room. Surprisingly, Fel even reached his hand out to him, as if they were making some deal. “You’ve been through a lot, Finn: fighting in a war, the First Order, all of it…you—or anyone here for that matter—should not be fighting such a pointless war.”
“Well…I’m a Jedi,” he said, “I’m used to the chaos, and I was fighting for a good cause.”
“Hm,” Fel nodded, smiling. “I like that.” Firmly, Finn shook his hand. “Good seeing you.” He walked out of the building, regrouping with his security, advisors, and a few generals. “Tell all commanders to withdraw from the planet—no fleets, no officers or generals, no surveillance troops. I want all of them gone by tomorrow.”
“On it, sir,” a general said, parting ways.
Making his way back to the ship, his loyal and long-time trusted advisor, Ashik, approached him with a holocomm. “A message from the Head of State from Corellia. It seemed urgent.”
“Oh?”
Why would a Corellian politician, of all people, be contacting him? It was times like this, times when he needed to engage in diplomacy, politics, and negotiations with other world leaders outside of his small social bubble, that he was reminded that he was the Head of State of the Imperial Remnant in his own right. The two rushed into the ship, heading to a small cornered off room.
“I thought Corellia just had an election,” Fel said, sliding his jacket off.
“They did.” Ashik put the device on the table and clicked it.
In the dark room of the ship, a hologram lit up. It showed an old man with white hair, a rather tense facial expression mixed with a sly smirk, and dark brown eyes. ‘Han?’ thought Jag. But no, it couldn’t be—why would his soon-to-be father-in-law be the Head of State of Corellia? Surely, that wasn’t his forte.
“Greetings, Emperor Fel,” the man said, “I do not think we have ever had the pleasure to meet, sir, but allow me to introduce myself. I’m the new Head of State for Corellia, Thrackan Sal-Solo. You see, there’s a violent revolt here, much like the one on your planet Karaxis. Non-humans are claiming that I’m some human-centric maniac, that I don’t care about them at all. Ridiculous, right? Perhaps not all of that is an exaggerated lie.” The man narrowed his eyes down and removed his smirk from his face. “Now, if you know much about me, you know that we may not agree on many things. Your Chiss ‘background’ and association is foreign to me, I don’t understand why you and your family had such a tight relationship with those types of people, but perhaps you have changed. To the reason as to why I'm reaching out to you: I’m fighting for Corellian independence from the Galactic Alliance, and I am asking you for help. Surely, with your connection to the Solo’s, you can find a way to strike a deal for a Corellian victory. If not, I’m afraid things will get…how do I say this—chaotic.” Once more, that awful smile raised on Thrackan’s face. “Yes, it will get chaotic very, very quickly, I’m afraid. I sent coordinates for you if you ever want to chat about this. I trust that we will put our differences and beliefs aside, so that you can do the right thing.” The hologram faded out. That call was more of a threat than a greeting! Jag’s heart began to race. Not only was the queen mother of Hapes in danger, but now the Solo’s.
“Huh,” Ashik snorted. “I guess he really can’t hide his speciesism.”
“Nope.” Jag was reminded of the snarky comment Thrackan made about the Chiss. “Save that footage, can you?” Fel demanded Ashik. He reached into his own pocket for his commlink.
“The message was glitching the moment I received it…it took forever for the droids to even patch it back up; I don’t know if it can be fully salvaged.”
“Well, do what you can.” The surname Sal-Solo echoed and replayed and spun in his head.
“I’ll try, but it might take a while.”
“I need that footage.”
One name whispered in his mind. Jaina. She could do it. So, he made the call to the Solo’s, but first, he called Han.