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“What about Rostu’s body?” Den asked.

Jax turned and looked back at Nick’s still form. He felt a pang of regret; Nick Rostu had died bravely, trying to save his friends and Master Piell’s mission. He deserved a decent funeral, at least. “I-Five, can you bring him?” he asked quietly. “We can release him in orbit—he would have liked that, I think.”

I-Five bent over Nick, started to lift him—then stopped. He was quite still for a moment; then he said, “He’s still alive.”

“What?” Jax, Laranth, and Den spoke simultaneously. Only Kaird was silent, although he looked as amazed as they did.

“The transparisteel shard that skewered him passed through the lower abdominal cavity.” As I-Five spoke, he used his finger laser to burn through the fragment near where it entered Nick’s back. “It missed the spine and kidneys. I’m detecting some internal bleeding and the beginnings of systemic infection and peritonitis—but I believe it’s reversible if he’s treated within twenty-four hours.”

Jax felt a surge of relief. “There should be a medpac on the freighter. Hurry!” He saw the droid carefully lift Nick, then turned and headed into the corridor, followed by the others.

“We’ve still got to get past Vader’s transport to reach our own,” Kaird pointed out. “Any ideas on how we accomplish that?”

“One or two,” Jax replied. “Let’s worry about getting out of here first.”

“Will someone tell me just what we’re running from?” Den asked as he hurried to keep up with the others.

“About ten meters beneath our feet is the reactor containment unit,” I-Five said. “I mentioned before that it was unstable—in fact, long-term exposure to radiation leakage may be what drove the droids mad. In any event, I estimate that we have less than twenty-five minutes before the lightsaber burns its way through the impervium shielding and—”

“Gotcha,” Den said. He doubled his speed, pushing past the others.

It might work, Jax told himself. The explosion would certainly be enough to remove Darth Vader as a problem from his life permanently. Even if Vader somehow survived, he would probably be convinced that Jax hadn’t. Either way, this was a good chance to escape the Sith Lord’s ominous shadow—if not for good, then at least for a considerable time.

They hurried through the dark corridors, I-Five carrying Nick Rostu and lighting the way. It appeared that he had a droid, Jax mused; not as property, but as a friend. An odd concept—but one he was getting used to.

It was good to have a friend.

forty-five

Lord Vader watched the bridge monitor, which was focused on the entrance. Rhinann watched as well, trying to divine the inscrutable thoughts going on behind the helmet and, as usual, failing.

Including Vader’s transport, there were now three ships at rest before the decaying buildings. One was the Corellian freighter that had been given to Rostu. The other was an assault ship, graceful and sleek. Rhinann approved of the look. He wondered to whom it belonged.

Vader spoke to Captain Tanna. “When they come out, take Pavan alive. Kill whoever is with him. Take no chances; the Force is strong in him.”

“Yes, my lord.” Captain Tanna saluted. “But what of the droid? Was it not the reason for this journey?”

Vader waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about the droid. Pavan is more important.”

“Understood,” Captain Tanna said. He glanced at the monitor and reacted in surprise. “My lord—you will want to see this, I think.”

The Dark Lord moved to look at the forward monitor. The movement gave Rhinann a momentary view of what the captain and Vader were looking at: a lone figure striding rapidly from the plant entrance toward the nearby assault ship. Rhinann immediately recognized the being’s identity, and the surprise he felt was almost enough to make him forget, for an instant, his fear. Because certainly one of the last people he would have expected to see in this desolate place was Prince Xizor of House Sizhran.

The outside cam followed the prince as he crossed the rubble-strewn landscape toward the assault