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“I had that in mind.”

Jax found himself wondering what else the Elomin might have in mind. He was, after all, a former associate of Darth Vader’s—his amanuensis and adjutant. Jax was not completely on board with the idea that their mole was Pol Haus. Haninum Tyk Rhinann was also a possible candidate.

It was with that unsettling possibility in mind that, once the group drew up the exchange proposal for Darth Vader and sent Rhinann off to deliver it, Jax took I-Five aside for a private strategy session.

In the end, the idea of the exchange was accepted and the conditions discussed. The very first condition was that the arrangements be finalized by Jax himself, via the HoloNet. Rhinann, saying he feared some sort of trickery on Vader’s part, removed Ves Volette’s floating HoloNet station from the gallery to an abandoned conapt in a neighboring sector. It was from that anonymous location that Jax now stood, face-to-holographic-mask, with the Dark Lord.

Even as a hologram Darth Vader managed to project an aura—a presence—of towering darkness. The effect was even more pronounced when he spoke.

His words were brief and to the point. “Jax Pavan. You have what I want.”

“The feeling—and the situation—is mutual,” Jax replied. “Laranth Tarak …”

“Is here.” Vader stepped to one side with a sweep of his robed arm. A light went on behind him, and the holoprojection expanded to show the Twi’lek huddled in a small, doorless holding cell, her hands bound in electromagnetic force shackles. Her lekku, Jax saw, were encircled with some sort of flexible metal bands along which tiny ribbons of light raced. He’d never seen anything like them before, but he could guess their purpose. He fought a tide of nausea and schooled his face and his racing heart to calm.

There is no emotion …

Laranth almost undid him when she looked up at his holographic image, her eyes dull and unfocused. He clenched his fists, fingernails biting into his palms. The pain was good. Centering.

There is no emotion …

“If you’ve harmed her …”

“Spare me your empty threats, Pavan. She is merely restrained by the fruits of the Imperial research program. Twi’leks, it seems, make use of their lekku for a number of Force-related activities. When the bands come off she will be as she was.”

Jax tore his gaze from Laranth and straightened his shoulders. “Your conditions?”

Vader didn’t waste time. “The droid will wear a restraining bolt.”

Jax feigned reluctance. “Why? What can you possibly fear from—?”

“I fear nothing. The droid will wear a restraining bolt. He, like your young adept—or should I say your Padawan?—is both unknown and unexpected.”

Jax projected barely restrained anger and bowed his head. “Agreed.” There wasn’t a restraining bolt made that could control I-Five, but Vader couldn’t know that. “Where is Kaj?”

“I’m sure you understand that we had to handle him differently. He is safe and well cared for. I am somewhat reluctant to give him up.”

Jax said nothing. He folded his arms and waited.

“This will be only a temporary truce, Pavan. Once I have what I want from the droid, our game will recommence. You’d do well to simply surrender to me now.”

“Sorry, Vader. I’m not part of the deal. I’m willing to sacrifice the droid, not myself.”

Vader cocked his helmet slightly, the movement conveying a sense of amusement. “An odd attitude for a Jedi.”

“Ultimately, he’s just a mechanical device.”

Vader’s laughter seemed to roll directly from his chest plate. “You believe that no more than I do.” He made a broad gesture of dismissal. “Enough of this. Let us conclude our arrangements.”

Jax barely heard him; his gaze had been drawn again to Laranth. She had squeezed herself into a corner and turned her head away from him, pressing her face into the wall of her cell.

Vader noticed his concern. “Such devotion. Does she distract you? That is easily remedied.” He made a subtle gesture with his hand, and the cell and its pathetic inmate dissolved into darkness.

“Is that better?” Vader asked, his voice mockingly sympathetic.

It wasn’t better. Seeing her like that