Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights 01_ Jedi Twilight - Michael Reaves [80]
Pavan regarded the droid with a stony stare. “I assume you’ve got some data to back up your claims that aren’t totally subjective?”
Though I-Five gave no outward indication, still Den knew the droid had been stung by Pavan’s snide question. After a moment of silence, I-Five said, “I’m reading galvanic skin conductivity fluctuations consistent with human emotional duress, as well as an elevated heartbeat. He’s lying, Jax. I’m certain of it.”
Pavan stared at I-Five for a moment, then said, “Nick Rostu is, as far as I know, a soldier and a patriot. He won the Silver Medal of Valor and fought in the Clone Wars on more fronts than I can name. What you’re saying is hard to believe; after all, I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you. Any chance your readings are faulty?”
“None.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
“Why would I lie? Especially to you?”
“You’re naïve, even for a droid. Despite your claims of affection and friendship for my father—a man I don’t know any more about than I know about you—I’m not disposed to take everything you say at face value. A droid can be programmed to lie—”
“Not this droid.”
Pavan looked irritated. Then he turned and gazed at Rostu steadily for a moment. Though Pavan gave no outward sign of anything, Den was convinced that he was using the Force to probe Rostu.
The Jedi looked back at I-Five after a moment. “I’m getting nothing from him that indicates any duplicity. He reads clean through the Force.”
I-Five “blinked,” obviously nonplussed by this. “But—his physiological responses are—” The droid paused in confusion. When he spoke again, his voice was subdued. “I’ve just taken another reading; his autonomics are much more within normal limits than before.”
Pavan said nothing in reply. He didn’t have to.
Well, that’s just great, Den thought. If Five’s losing it, then we’ve just jumped from the reactor core into the supernova.
The air skimmer flew on through the neon night.
thirty-one
“How does the search proceed, Rhinann?” Lord Vader’s voice was as cultured and polite as always, with subtle menace threaded through it. “Has Major Rostu found Pavan yet?”
“I believe so, my lord,” Rhinann said. His voice quavered slightly, despite his efforts to keep it steady. “But I have yet to receive a definitive signal.”
“Once the signal is sent,” the Dark Lord said, “make sure enough troopers are dispatched to take him alive. Do not disappoint me, Rhinann.”
Rhinann felt each of his four stomachs fall separately into infinity. He literally could not speak; his tongue seemed frozen to the roof of his mouth. Somehow, he managed to stammer a reply and exit Vader’s presence without collapsing from his fear.
Do not disappoint me, Rhinann. Even now, back in the relative security of his office, he could hear those words reverberating. He could almost see them, luminous in the air before him, pulsing with menace. If the words had come from anyone else, they might be interpreted as a mild warning of possible repercussions. Coming from Darth Vader, however, they seemed tantamount to a death threat.
Something had to be done.
Rhinann knew he couldn’t take this kind of fear and pressure anymore. He felt that he was on the verge of a full systemic vascularity. He was much too young to be threatened by such a condition; he was only eighty-nine standard years old.
This job was killing him. To be more specific, fear of being killed by Darth Vader was killing him. Somehow, someway, Rhinann knew he had to find an escape route, not just out of his employment in the Palace, but off Coruscant and out of the Core systems altogether. The wilderness of the galaxy, filled with world after world of howling barbarians and formerly far too terrifying to even consider fleeing to, had finally assumed second place on the two-tiered pantheon of evil in which he so firmly believed. In first place now was Darth Vader; in second place was all the rest of creation.
But how to get out? he wondered,