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There is no emotion …

He drew a cloak of detachment around himself and went on with the negotiations.

“You surely don’t mean to return the boy to them,” Tesla said as soon as the holoprojection of Jax Pavan had disappeared.

Darth Vader turned his helmeted head to look at his acolyte. “Is he here, as I requested?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Bring him.”

Tesla did as required, going to where he had left the young adept studying a holocron of the early Sith Masters, and escorting him into the Dark Lord’s presence. Tesla had explained to the boy who Darth Vader was, of course, and as he expected, the youth was suitably awed in his master’s presence.

Even awed, he dared to speak first. “You’re … you’re the one who rescued me from the Jedi, aren’t you?” he asked.

Vader inclined his head in agreement. “I could not allow such a thing to happen to you, Kajin. We were greatly disturbed by your kidnapping. I have brought you here so that you can see one of the rebels who tried to take you from us.” He turned and, with a wave of his hand, lit the alcove where Laranth Tarak lay in her fetal curl.

The boy glanced from Tesla to Darth Vader—then, with surprising boldness, approached the cell. “This is one of the Jedi?” Then, “Yes … yes, I remember her now. In that tunnel. She was …”

The Twi’lek, hearing the boy’s voice, turned her head to look at him. Her eyes cleared slightly, and her lips formed his name. Kaj stiffened, his back going ramrod-straight. He held his ground, though, Tesla noted, and the woman’s gaze as well. His face screwed into a mask of fury as the boy spit out a single word:

“Jedi.”

Tesla met his lord’s veiled gaze and smiled.

twenty-six

I-Five would be escorted by Dejah Duare, who stood the best chance of keeping Kaj calm, and Rhinann, whose reasons for volunteering were vague at best. He had gone to such great lengths to hide out from the Dark Lord that it was hard to explain to his cohorts why he suddenly was willing to march into harm’s way.

He tried out a number of explanations in his own mind that sounded disingenuous even to him: loyalty to Jax, a secret fondness for I-Five, a desire to flaunt his alliance with a Jedi to a master who had abused his sensibilities tremendously. None sounded believable, and so he’d come up with something a bit closer to the truth.

“Frankly,” he’d told the gathered plotters, “I am hoping to turn this into a strategic ploy. Vader will recognize me, of course, and might be persuaded to think that I am a mole of sorts and thus might be useful to him in finally capturing Jax and shutting down the Whiplash. Besides,” he’d added, wrinkling his nose in disgust, “I wish to acquit myself better than that cowardly Sullustan has done. I refuse to be so spineless as to abandon my companions.”

The little speech seemed to go over well enough with the group, and Rhinann threw himself into the final arrangements for the exchange. He believed that now, finally, the bota must surface, and he would be the last person anyone would expect to snatch it and use it.

The exchange point was to be the control tower of a spacecraft hangar in an abandoned military complex. Tuden Sal had selected the place, which had to have caused Pavan some unease. Sal was yet a newcomer to the Whiplash and, though Yimmon and even Laranth trusted him, the fact of his previous betrayal of Jax’s father must make it hard for the young Jedi to have the same amount of faith in him.

Rhinann thought it ironic that Tuden Sal had not volunteered to be part of the mission, though I-Five still intended to assassinate the Emperor if the opportunity presented itself.

The Elomin was not sanguine about their prospects, but he had made copious mental lists of all the things that could go wrong, and so felt himself well prepared for whatever they might encounter. Nevertheless he was surprised almost immediately upon their arrival at the tower. As he and Dejah led the droid from their airspeeder, they found themselves in the company of a trio of Inquisitors. The adepts