Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 08_ Ascension - Christie Golden [133]
Humbly, Workan knelt. “Grand Lord,” he said.
“High Lord Workan,” said Vol. “How do things progress?”
“Well, my lord,” said Workan. Which was partially true. “Our people are in key positions on this world. We are able to direct the flow of information. We have already met and dealt swiftly with challenges to our authority. The one who rules now is a buffoon, and he will do what I tell him to. The last Jedi is imprisoned, and we are all but ready for your arrival.”
The sunken eyes narrowed. “All but ready? The Jedi left days ago. What is taking so long? Is there any sign of Abeloth?”
“No, my lord. No doubt she and Ship are wandering about the galaxy while we steal the fruit from under her nose. But—another female is causing … difficulties. There is a Senator. She is new to the Senate, but word of her deeds and nobility preceded her. She is wildly popular, the liberator of her people, and I cannot eliminate her without creating a public backlash.”
“Do not tell me a Sith High Lord is being defeated by a kind and noble female,” said vol, the words almost a sneer. “Now, if she were Abeloth …”
Workan stiffened. “There is no hint of Force-ability about her. No, my lord, she is nothing more than a liar and a deceiver—but a very skilled one. Somehow she has manipulated the galaxy into believing that she is someone to be loved and honored, when in reality she is nearly as ruthless as we. She has even swayed some of my followers—the ones who are simply gullible rather than corrupt. And my lord … she may know of our true identities.”
“You disappoint me, Workan,” said vol. “You sweep through this world like the conqueror you should be, yet one pesky two-faced alien female has stopped you dead in your tracks. I tire of waiting on you. I will come and deal with this Roki Kem myself.”
“My lord, please,” said Suldar. “I will take her down, swiftly and surely.”
“You will save her for me,” vol said. “This keeshar dared to challenge a member of the Lost Tribe. I will crush her, and with her head in my hand, I shall announce our presence on this world. Expect me soon.”
The image winked out. Workan closed his eyes, gathering calmness. He could eliminate Roki Kem before Vol arrived, thus proving to his Grand Lord that he was capable of handling his own problems. But that would annoy Vol, who no doubt planned to capitalize on the horror of displaying the head of Roki Kem, so beloved and benevolent, upon his ascension to ruler of—well, everything. For to control Coruscant, as the saying went, was to control the galaxy.
No, best to let Grand Lord Vol have his sport. But in the meantime, he would watch, and wait, and be ready when his Master arrived.
Everything was on schedule and going well on the set of The Perre Needmo Newshour. Beings went about their usual tasks with the same level of efficiency and professionalism as ever. But as Needmo shuffled to his anchor’s chair, he knew he was not alone at sensing the pall that hung in the air. Things had been different since the Jedi had left. The Senate’s flurry to pass more restrictive legislation on customs, taxes, public behavior—everything, really. The sudden appearance of BAMR News, which was so slanted as to make one long for the return of Javis Tyrr’s The Jedi Among Us, not to mention make one wish the Jedi were still “among us,” was even more disheartening.
Needmo was waiting for the censorship to spread to his show, but thus far it hadn’t materialized. The free press, it would seem, had not been entirely muzzled. And for that, he was glad. Although he often felt like a lone voice crying in the wilderness, as long as he could report the truth—do what holojournalists were expected to do, should always do—he would stay on the air.
The show prided itself on having good news along with the bad, but recently there had been more of the latter