Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights 01_ Jedi Twilight - Michael Reaves [57]
Waiting.
The setting was innocuous enough: they stood on a balcony, high above the main levels of the city. It was just after dawn; the morning rays of the Coruscant sun struck opalescent sparks from the many towers, ziggurats, domes, and other structures surrounding the Imperial Palace. The bullet-shaped spire that supported them was taller than most; Nick estimated that they were at least seven hundred meters above the streets. If he were to fall from this height, he would have nearly ten seconds in which to regret it before impact—assuming he wasn’t struck in midfall by one of the many vehicles whipping by in the various traffic strata.
Vader stood near the balcony’s edge, staring out over the city. Nick could hear his labored breathing. After a moment, he turned, the black cape flaring out behind him. The only hints of color on his body were the flickering status lights on his chest plate. The helmet swiveled toward him. The lusterless rounded hemispheres that shielded his eyes—or were his eyes, for all Nick knew—showed no movement; yet somehow Nick realized that he was being inspected.
“Major Nick Rostu.” The voice startled Nick. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected Vader to sound like, but this velvety baritone wasn’t it. “Late of the Grand Army of the Republic,” Vader continued. “You are charged with the murder of Colonel Majjen, an Imperial representative.”
There didn’t seem to be any reason to respond to that, so Nick kept quiet.
Vader did not seem to notice. “You are also responsible for the killings of a considerable number of Imperial troopers during your time spent as a street fighter. Not to mention breaking several laws.”
“It’s called war,” Nick said. He was milked if he’d let himself be intimidated—or so he told himself. The truth was that he was already fairly intimidated. His voice had been a bit higher than he’d liked.
“No,” Vader said. “It’s called sedition. And when engaged in by an officer, it’s called treason.” The Dark Lord was silent for a few moments, apparently occupied with his own thoughts. Then he said, “The Force flickers within you, Major. Its flame burns weakly, but there is potential. Its fire could be fanned, and quickly, by the power of the dark side.”
Nick was silent, waiting.
“I have a task for you, Major,” Vader said. “If you complete it satisfactorily, you’ll be given a ship and allowed to go free, with no hand raised against you—as long as you leave Coruscant and the Core systems. Fail, and your life is forfeit. Understand?”
“You want me to find Jax Pavan for you,” Nick said. “I won’t do it.” His voice shook a little, but he got the words out.
Vader stepped closer to him. “I think you will. In fact, I know you will. You are brave; your record makes that clear. You do not fear death.” He raised his left hand, index finger slightly extended, as if making a point. “But there are far worse things than mere death …”
And before Nick realized what was going on, the Dark Lord was somehow inside his head, a dark shadow interrupting the flow of his thoughts. The shadow seemed to expand …
Nick screamed, and fell into a blackness even more perfect than the eyes of Darth Vader.
twenty-one
Jax had to admit that Rokko’s hospitality seemed genuine enough. The Hutt had offered them the luxury of a good meal and a shower, as well as having their clothes cleaned and mended. Jax had taken the precaution of removing his lightsaber from the hidden pocket within his greatcoat first. It didn’t matter if it was found—Rokko already knew he was a Jedi—but it would be unthinkable for it to be stolen.
A long ultrasonic cleansing and a brisk massage from a modified TDL droid, whose two sets of hands had been outfitted with vibrating fingers, had been followed by a meal of grilled t’surys with spongewort garnish and topped off by a bottle of Chandrilan Blue ’439. After which Jax had to admit he felt considerably better. He also felt like sleeping for a standard week.