Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights II Streets of Shadows - Michael Reaves [14]
She recognized the figure, of course. One could hardly live in the developed portion of the galaxy, or even on its fringes, and not have heard of Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith. His origins were shrouded in mystery and rife with rumor: He was a centuries-old Sith Lord, reanimated by the sheer force of the Emperor’s will; he was the last rogue Jedi; he was a genetically optimized clone, the ultimate warrior; he was a cyborg, some kind of specialized battle droid given human form.
Sing had no idea which if any of the rumors might be true, although Vader’s alleged unequaled proficiency with a lightsaber would seem to argue for the first or second possibility. Her gaze automatically went to where the traditional Jedi weapon was attached to his belt. A sensible sentient would have been immediately intimidated by the Dark Lord’s appearance. Aurra Sing smiled; a lazy, feral smile.
Vader’s image regarded her in silence for a moment; then it spoke. The sound, like the image, was slightly distorted from its long journey through hyperspace.
“Your reflexes are quite impressive, bounty hunter. You have temporarily cost me the use of a trained assassin.”
Sing spared a glance at the Trandoshan, still lying on the floor and whimpering softly as he tried to snap his broken arm back into its shoulder socket. Her gaze returned to the ebon image. “You set this one on me? Why?”
Vader nodded once. “Just so. I was curious to see if you were still at your peak after your time in the mines. I now—”
“You’re wise,” she interrupted the projection, “to stay in a safe haven parsecs away. This one”—she nudged the reptiloid with her foot—“just served to keep me from falling asleep after a day’s work. Were you here in the flesh I’d—”
Vader raised a black-gloved hand, and Sing paused.
“I have a job for you,” the Dark Lord continued. “Do it well, and I’ll personally commute your sentence. Do it poorly, and you’ll be back here breathing zenium dust until it eats you alive from the inside out. Are you interested?”
Sing was aware that the other prisoners nearby had halted their activities and were looking on in fascination. She also saw that three of her more brutish fellow miners were scowling in her direction. She could feel their resentment at this unexpected offer of clemency for her.
“You offer me a choice a fool could make.”
“I didn’t think you would require much convincing.”
Their agreement concluded, at that point she expected the image to implode and vanish. She was somewhat surprised when it did not. Instead, the simulacrum stood silently, watching.
She turned to face the three prisoners she had noticed a moment earlier. Two were human; the third was a Shistavanen. All three continued to glare enviously at her, each waiting for one of the others to make the first move. Sing smiled. It was plain now why Vader had not ended the transmission.
The test wasn’t over yet.
six
“Anakin Skywalker? The Anakin Skywalker? The Jedi hero of the Clone Wars?”
“You sound skeptical,” Jax told Den.
“I am skeptical. In fact,” Den added, “I’d say skeptical isn’t nearly strong enough. I think I’ll have to go with incredulous.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Laranth put in from nearby. “All the Jedi—present company excepted—are dead.”
Jax met her gaze evenly. “As you said, present company excepted. We’ve managed to stay alive all these months. Why couldn’t he have as well?”
I-Five responded before the Twi’lek could. “Along with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Mace Windu, Anakin Skywalker was one of the most storied heroes of the Republic. Their battles and missions are the stuff of legend, or so my research would suggest. Ever since the end of the Clone Wars, there have been sightings of them reported from the Outer Rim all the way to the Tingel Arm. Not one has ever been confirmed.”
Jax didn’t reply immediately. He could certainly understand the others’ reservations. He would have been equally dubious—had he not experienced the