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Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 08_ Ascension - Christie Golden [134]

By Root 2436 0
than the former. The peculiar decision to elect Padnel Ovin as Chief of State, the formation of the infamous subcommittee, the imprisonment of Leia Organa Solo, the not-unexpected but still regrettable death of Senator Bramsin, and the lead story tonight—all were things Needmo wished he didn’t need to cover. But reporting the news, as Madhi Vaandt had so poignantly taught them all, was the most important thing a holojournalist could do, whether the news was hopeful, tragic, or something in between. At least, Needmo thought, they would close on an upbeat note—the arrival of Rokari Kem, liberator of the Jessar and the newest GA Senator. Surely things would improve, at least somewhat, with such a prominent voice of reason finally able to speak.

The Twi’lek makeup assistant darted out, patted down the Chevin’s large brow, then hurried off. The music began to play, and the cam operator gave him the countdown.

“Good evening, gentlebeings, and welcome to tonight’s edition of The Perre Needmo Newshour. We’ve got something special for you tonight—an exclusive. We’ll spend the last several minutes of our show airing an interview I conducted just this afternoon with fledgling Senator Rokari Kem of Qaras. But first, a more sobering look as we revisit a story that the late Devaronian holojournalist Madhi Vaandt first brought to our attention: the undercity of Coruscant.”

The viewers would now be watching old holofootage—seeing the image of Madhi Vaandt, her bright eyes alert, clad in her no-nonsense outfit, her arm around the shoulders of a small, skittish human boy named Tarynd.

“For a while, the attention Vaandt brought to this violent, forgotten area seemed to make a difference. Areas were recovered and reclaimed. Funds were raised to help provide food, clothing, and shelter for younglings such as Tarynd, whom viewers followed for several weeks as Vaandt’s story unfolded. But with Vaandt’s tragic death, interest in healing this wound to the very heart of Coruscant waned.”

Now, Needmo knew, viewers would be watching footage just captured a few hours ago. “We descended into the depths of the undercity last night to bring you this update.” The images would speak for themselves: the undercity looked worse than ever. It seemed as though the yorik coral, slashvines, and other plant growth, far from being beaten back, had all but taken over. Whereas before the inhabitants had tended to shy away from the cams, now the holofilm crew—who had received hazard pay for obtaining the footage—captured gangs brutally and openly terrorizing those unfortunate enough to be overtaken.

“It’s as if nothing at all was done, as if the undercity, briefly recalled, has been more than forgotten—it has been thoroughly forsaken. More and more beings are disappearing in this part of the city, and there is no public outcry to investigate. No one knows why there has been a sudden growth spurt in the plant life here, and it seems unlikely that the Galactic Alliance will fund any kind of research to determine why, or to protect the innocent. One thing is tragically certain—it is a darker and more dangerous place than ever before.”

And Needmo knew what the viewers would see as the segment ended: a frozen close-up of young Tarynd’s face, contorted in hatred as he and four other gang members beat a terrified Chadra-Fan into a pulp.

ADMIRAL PAROVA’S APARTMENT, CORUSCANT


AS SHE PREPARED FOR BED, SALLINOR PAROVA HUMMED ALONG WITH her favorite aria, playing in the background. Not many today remembered The Eye of the Empire. It had been commissioned by a long-dead Moff as a propaganda piece trumpeting the superiority of the human race, and consequently few admitted to listening to it. To Parova’s mind, however, that was a shame. The arias were some of the finest ever composed. It didn’t harm her appreciation any that she sympathized with the opera’s theme: the proper role that would make alien species happiest was subjugation to humans.

And she was helping move things to that noble, and right, end.

Her comm beeped. Parova frowned in exasperation as she glanced

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