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Rhinann reacted in a most undignified manner, all but hiding behind the droid. Dejah took their appearance somewhat more calmly, expressing only mild annoyance that she and Rhinann hadn’t been warned of the extra precaution on Vader’s part. I-5YQ, disguised as a protocol unit of the 3PO line, said nothing, as befitted a droid wearing a restraining bolt. It had agreed to have its cognitive module wiped down to its basic programming kernel and the data stored within the bogus restraining bolt. At the proper moment, someone—Rhinann didn’t know who, in order to keep Vader from plucking the knowledge from his mind, if it was to be Dejah, or Jax, monitoring from a distance—would reactivate the droid’s higher brain functions so it could complete its mission.

“You will accompany us,” one of the faceless beings said simply, then swung away to lead them into the lift.

“You could have warned me they were there,” Rhinann told Dejah between clenched teeth.

“What makes you think I knew they were there?”

“I seem to recall you commenting that taozin doesn’t impede telempathy. I assume these fellows are emitting some sort of brainwaves. Possibly they even have emotions.”

The Zeltron glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Indeed they have.”

“Cease talking,” said one of the Inquisitors. Rhinann felt their eyes on him as they stepped from the lift and crossed the empty chamber that had once directed Republican spacecraft, and which was now home to dust, grime, and insects.

Rhinann saw Laranth standing within some sort of force field spun between a series of portable emitters. Her wrists were shackled, and there was some sort of winking device attached to her left lekku—an electromagnetic pulse emitter, he guessed, intended to disrupt her brain’s interaction with the mysterious fleshy tendril. She looked angry, he thought. But then, when had she not?

There were three figures standing just beyond her at the window that overlooked the distant hangar floor: the boy Kaj, Darth Vader—and Emperor Palpatine. The Emperor was seated in a hoverchair at the center of the little group, looking arch and cold. Vader was … well, Vader. He had not changed one bit since the last time Rhinann had seen him. The boy, meanwhile, was dressed in a uniform of Imperial black against which his pale skin and hair were shockingly bright. Oddly, he did not look happy to see them.

It took an enormous effort for Rhinann to stay on his feet—at the sight of Vader all of his old panic had settled on him, to such an extent that the chamber literally grayed out for a few moments. He felt himself swaying, and commanded himself fiercely to get a grip.

He glanced at Dejah. The Zeltron stood on the opposite side of I-Five, her eyes wide with terror, her gaze fixed on Vader and the Emperor, her breathing quick and shallow. He looked at the droid next. What was it waiting for? Why didn’t it fire at Palpatine? Hadn’t the upload been accomplished?

The answer came in a most unexpected way. The Emperor smiled and steepled his fingers, then winked out like a dying star—chair and all. He had been no more than a holographic image.

Rhinann had the absurd desire to laugh.

Darth Vader, a hand on Kaj’s shoulder, surveyed them through his insectoid lenses. Then he moved toward them with languid, menacing grace, his robes whispering softly. “Haninum Tyk Rhinann. I am surprised to see you here. I would not have taken you for either a hero or a fool.”

Rhinann had no reply to that, being too terrified to speak—nor, he knew, would Lord Vader have expected one.

Vader approached them, stopped and surveyed them all for a moment. Kaj stood a few steps behind, his expression neutral. Rhinann wondered at that, but only vaguely—there wasn’t much room in his head for anything except terror at being so close to Vader again.

After an endless moment of silence, Vader addressed himself, not to Rhinann, or to I-Five, but to Dejah. “Which of them has the bota?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said calmly. She turned to