Star Wars_ Darth Maul 02_ Shadow Hunter - Michael Reaves [40]
And all this was based on the assumption that Monchar’s killer was in fact a Sith. It was a big galaxy, after all, and Coruscant was the biggest melting pot of all the inhabited worlds. It was possible that there existed someone, neither Jedi nor Sith, who had somehow gotten hold of a lightsaber and could make it work. After all, it probably didn’t require being a master of the Force to simply slice an energy blade through someone’s neck.
But none of this made Lorn feel any easier. Neither he nor I-Five had managed to survive these past four years in the rancid underbelly of Coruscant by taking chances. As he had told the droid more than once, it wasn’t a question of being paranoid, it was a question of being paranoid enough.
Still, there wasn’t a whole lot of choice. They could keep the holocron and stay on Coruscant in the hope that giving it up would dissuade Monchar’s murderer from beheading them, as well. Or they could sell it and use the credits to flee—and hope they were not pursued.
Neither alternative seemed to offer much in the way of living to a ripe old age.
Lorn sighed and released the droid. “All right,” he said. “Let’s go meet the Hutt.”
Alone in his secret chambers, Darth Sidious meditated on this latest set of circumstances.
In many ways Darth Maul was an exemplary acolyte. His loyalty was unquestionable and unshakable; Sidious knew that, if he were to command it, Maul would sacrifice his life without a second’s hesitation. And his skills as a warrior were nonpareil.
Nevertheless, Maul had his flaws, and by far the largest of these was hubris. Though he had said nothing when given the assignment, Sidious knew Maul felt that such a job was beneath his skills. There were times—many times—when Sidious could see Maul’s aura pulsing with the dark stain of impatience. He wondered sometimes if he had inculcated too much hatred of the Jedi and their ways in his apprentice. Maul did tend to focus on their destruction at the expense of the larger picture.
Even so, Sidious had every confidence that Maul would accomplish the task he had been set. Complications and setbacks were to be expected, and would be dealt with. All that mattered was the grand design, and it was proceeding apace. Soon the Jedi would be put to the slaughter. That should make his impetuous subordinate happy.
Soon. Very soon.
Master Anoon Bondara sat in silence for several minutes after Darsha finished her report. They were, quite possibly, the longest minutes of the Padawan’s life. The Twi’lek Jedi sat with head bowed and fingers steepled, looking at the floor between them. There was no way to read his body language, to tell what he was thinking. Even his lekku were motionless. But Darsha had a pretty good idea that, whatever her mentor’s thoughts were, they did not bode well for her continued career as a Jedi.
At last Master Bondara sighed and raised his gaze to meet Darsha’s. “I am glad you are still alive,” he said, and Darsha felt a surge of gratitude and love for her mentor that was almost overwhelming in its intensity. Her safety had been more important to Master Bondara than the mission.
“Now tell me,” the Twi’lek continued, “did you see the Fondorian die?”
“No. But there was no way he could have survived such a fall—”
Master Bondara held up a hand to stop her. “You did not see him die, and I assume you did not feel any upheaval in the Force that could have meant his death.”
Darsha thought back to the nightmarish events of several hours previous. Scanning the waves of the Force for such a ripple of disturbance hadn’t exactly been uppermost in her mind at that moment. Would she have felt such an agitation, preoccupied as she had been with trying to save her own life? Her mentor would have, of that she was sure. But was she that finely attuned to the Force?
“I did not,” she said slowly, then felt compelled