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“History is old, dusty, and unimportant,” she said.

“I’ll take that as a no.” His smile grew. He kept his voice low, infusing it with as much charm as he had. “History, Femon, provides lessons. Lessons in living, lessons in dying. Lessons in the way this galaxy works.”

“I know how it works,” she said.

“Do you?” He put a slight threat into his tone and she almost flinched.

Almost.

Then she nodded. “I do.”

He reached out and tucked a strand of her long black hair behind her ear. “Then you know,” he said tenderly, “why I fight Skywalker.”

“Revenge,” she said. “He did something to you and Brakiss long ago. I don’t need history for that.”

“Ah, but you do.” He let his hand drop. “I’ve had my revenge. Conquering Almania was my revenge. I know clean ways of killing, Femon. Why do you think I spent a week torturing the leaders of the Je’har?”

“Information.” Her voice was husky.

He shook his head. “Revenge, sweet. My revenge for their slaughter of my family and the destruction of the place I loved. I thought the Je’har should have a small taste of the pain they caused. I think you should notice that I have not tortured anyone since.”

“You found better methods,” she said.

He tugged at his black gloves, looking at his hands. His powerful hands. “I knew better methods then. I simply did not believe the Je’har deserved them. I am a reasonable man, Femon. You should have remembered that.”

“You’ve been trying to be fair?” she asked. He suppressed a smile. At that moment, her certainty wavered. She had lost, and she hadn’t even realized it. “You’ve been baiting Skywalker to give him a chance to defend himself?”

“Skywalker needs no favors.” He was speaking now not just for her, but for his guards. He had brought them as witnesses, so that tales of her treachery would be muted by tales of his response to it. “Skywalker is the most powerful man in the galaxy.”

Femon laughed. “I thought you were, Dolph.”

“I will be.” His voice was still level. He felt remarkably calm, even though treachery usually sent him into a fury. His training had been good. He gave a mental nod to Master Skywalker. “When I defeat Skywalker.”

“So it is a power struggle.”

Kueller laughed. “You are so simplistic, Femon. You lack intellectual complexity because you have not studied.” He glanced at the guards. They were watching intently. One of them had loosened his grip on his blaster. Kueller reached over, grabbed the guard’s hand, and tightened his grip.

Femon made her move then. She reached for the control panel. The fail-safe. The security he had installed. The one that slid the initiator down a passage while everyone else in the room suffocated.

With a quick movement of his left hand, with a slight draw on all the Force within him, he stayed hers. Then he tightened his grip, holding her entire body in thrall to him. All except for her neck and head.

“What you don’t know,” he said calmly, as if he were not controlling her at all, “is that the history of this galaxy is a history of the Force. The Old Republic was guarded by the Jedi Knights, who believed in decency and honor. But they became complacent and allowed Palpatine, who had found a dark power in the Force, to overtake them. He ruled as Emperor and, over time, forgot the lesson of his own life. So, when faced with the youthful power of Luke Skywalker, Palpatine believed he could defeat him. And Skywalker, who had unusual talent in the Force, killed the Emperor instead.”

“And you will kill Skywalker, to live up to some noble idea of history?” She spat out the words. He admired her spirit, however misguided.

“I kill Skywalker, first, because it is my destiny,” Kueller said. “And secondly because I cannot rule this galaxy as long as he is alive. That is the lesson of history. I must be the strength in the Force. I must be the sole king of the Force. To do that, I must defeat the Jedi. I must defeat Skywalker.”

“You are a fool, Kueller,” she said.

“No, I am a patient man.” He smiled. “I also—”

He reached out with his right hand, stopped neck-high, and clutched his fist—

“—control