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By Root 846 0

adjusted his orange-toned goggles. A human male of average height, gray-haired and dark-eyed, he had the sort of squarish build and facial features that the civilian population expected and found reassuring in its military leaders. Like most of the current generation of high-ranking officers, he had come to his position in the power vacuum that had resulted from the end of the Second Galactic Civil War. The change in GA government had left innumerable careers like the droid before them—blackened, prostrate, and failed—and people like Jaxton, efficient war-hawks with spotless records, had stepped up and assumed power.

He looked down at the fallen droid. His voice was a touch rough, lightly flavored with the accent of long-lost Alderaan: “You let it get too close.”

Daala shrugged. “You go for the center of mass first. Put them down, then put them out. If you go for the kill shot right away, you, well, die.”

“Nonsense.” Jaxton turned to the control board. “Change parameters. Red Rage addict, enhanced to ten. Reset.”

The droid leapt to its feet and trotted back to the fifty-meter distance spot. As it reached the spot, vents protruding from the walls blew out a quantity of white fog, engulfing the droid. The fog dissipated almost immediately, and with it disappeared the three black marks on the droid’s skin.

The droid turned back toward Daala and Jaxton, then became still.

Jaxton grinned. “Go.”

The droid moved toward them.

Jaxton drew the blaster pistol on his right hip. As the barrel came up into line, he fired.

The bolt took the droid in the center of the forehead. The droid’s head snapped back, then its body fell.

It had taken two steps. It slid forward another two meters, then lay still.

“Impressive.” Daala wasn’t really impressed. She had known too many ex-starfighter-pilots who were far too proud of their shooting skills. In the field, show-off tactics like Jaxton’s would get a soldier killed. But she managed to keep the boredom out of her voice. “You must practice all the time, day and night.”

Jaxton paused, doubtless wondering if her statement was a jab at his recently divorced state. “Not that much.” He stepped aside.

“Reset.” Daala stepped up.

The droid rose, returned, was engulfed in fog, and stood gleaming and ready.

Daala did not set it into motion immediately. “I’ve been hearing things. About, well, restlessness.”

“Are we on the record?”

“No.”

“Natasi, I’m your wingman. Always. You know that.”

“Certainly.” Actually, she didn’t; she had never been close to Jaxton, had barely known him before he became a military chief. But he could be telling the truth.

“But, yes, there are mutterings. About you.”

“So, what’s going on—”

At the syllable “go,” the droid charged Daala.

Grimacing at both her mistake and the inconvenience of the interruption, Daala raised her pistol and fired. At forty meters, the bolt took the droid in the crotch. The droid curled into a ball as it fell and lay still.

Daala blinked. It really had been her usual center-of-mass shot, but she’d squeezed the trigger just a trifle prematurely as she raised the pistol, and the results looked much more effective than her shooting skills usually warranted.

“Nice.”

“Thank you. Reset. So, why are there mutterings?” She stepped aside.

Jaxton didn’t immediately move to take her place. “In my opinion, the people in the officer corps don’t think you’re protecting their interests or furthering their ideals. Not the way they, we, expected you would.”

Daala frowned at him. “Across the last couple of years, I’ve restored the strength and responsiveness of the military to a degree that exceeds analyst expectations.”

“Granted.”

“I’ve taken steps to bring the Jedi into line. The Order has been beheaded—Luke Skywalker is chasing the ghost of his dead nephew around the galaxy, and his replacement is familiar with and friendly to our outlook.”

“Yet the Jedi still struggle with you.”

“For now.”

“And one of them, Gilad Pellaeon’s murderer, is still at liberty.”

“That’s a civilian case, and it takes civilian time. Tahiri Veila will be convicted.