Part 9 (1/2)
”General, ” she said, respectfully bowing, because lives depended upon her submission. ”I believe I'm making progress. ”
His mouth dropped open, obscenely. ”Progress? That's all you can say? Progress?” With a garbled cry of fury he turned to the nearest battle droid, s.n.a.t.c.hed its blaster from its metal grasp and started firing. Carefully programmed never to point a weapon at him, the battle droids made no attempt to save themselves.
When he was done, and the ten droids were reduced to half- melted slag, he threw the blaster aside and s.n.a.t.c.hed a comlink from his tunic.
”I want more droids in the lab!” he shrieked. ”Ten! Send me ten droids! Send them now! And a cleanup crew!”
She'd stopped breathing. Her heart was pounding, her lungs no more than flaccid balloons in her chest. The blood in her veins was screaming for air. But she'd frozen solid, and couldn't breathe.
He's going to kill someone. He's going to kill my nephews next. No, no, no, no...
She showed him her pain, cried it aloud as she dropped to her knees on the lab's ferrocrete floor. ”General! Please, General, let me finis.h.!.+ I have isolated the unstable molecular chain. I can fix it. I can fix it. Please, I'm begging you, let me fix it!”
Was he even listening? He was flailing about the lab grunting horribly, stumbling over the destroyed battle droids, on the teetering edge of a breakdown. His rage was so elemental she wanted to be sick.
And then it was over. Eerily calm, he turned and looked at her, his odd, flat face devoid of emotion.
”Yes, Doctor, ” he said pleasantly. ”Fix it. You have one more day. If the problem is not rectified by then, we will have to make other arrangements. ”
Other arrangements? What did that mean? ”General...”
As though he hadn't heard her, as though she hadn't spoken, he turned and headed for the door. It hissed open before he reached it, and ten new battle droids marched in.
The lead droid snapped off a sharp salute. ”Roger, roger, reporting for duty. ”
Durd ignored them, too, and swished his ponderous way out of the lab. Moments later two maintenance droids with a large wheeled trolley arrived and began collecting bits and pieces of blasted droid.
The new lead battle droid fixed its glowing round photoreceptors on her and gestured with its lethal blaster. ”Get back to work. ”
Roger, roger. Trembling, hurting so badly her eyes were stinging with unshed tears, Bant'ena levered herself to her feet and got back to work.
40.* * *
”General Durd. You wanted to see me?”
That was Barev. Even if the human hadn't opened its mouth he'd have known it, because humans stank in many different and horrible ways. Their stink was as unique as their fingerprints, and their retinas.
They disgust me. All of them. Even Count Dooku.
His internal balance bladder shuddered, so that he rocked on his heels. Dooku. More than human. Much more. Much more than a Jedi.
Dooku was the breathing embodiment of nightmare.
Durd turned. ”You said you could find the Jedi, Colonel. You haven't. They are still here, and they are plotting my downfall. I want to know what you're doing about that. ”
Something of his earlier, obliterating rage must have shown in his eyes because Colonel Barev swallowed and rook half a step back.
”General. I am searching. ”
”Not very well, if you haven't found them yet. ”
Barev's little blue eyes widened. ”Lanteeb is a large planet. General, and they are Jedi. They have tricks up their sleeves. ”
Just like that, his rage was back. ”I don't care! I don't care!” he shouted, pumping his fists up and down, wis.h.i.+ng he could pummel Barev until the human's pale skin was running with blood. ”I want you to find them! I want you to find them and kill them and bring their mangled bodies to me!”
”General, that is my intention, ” said Barev, watching him carefully. ”I am as disappointed as you are, sir. ”
With an effort that burst blood vessels behind his eyes, splotching his vision yellow, Durd wrestled his temper under control.
”Whatever you're doing to find them, Barev, it's not working. You have to change tactics. You have to do something different. ”
Barev bowed again. ”General, you and I have reached the same conclusion. Because we are hunting Jedi I feel we must look to unconventional methods. My only concern is that unconventional methods are rarely... inexpensive. ”
Oh, yes? Oh, yes? He knew what that meant. ”If I find you've cheated me, Barev, do you know what I'll do?” he said, half closing his eyes. ”I'll give you to Doctor Fhernan. You can be a test subject. And the last thing you'll hear will be me laughing as the flesh bubbles off your bones. ”
Barev's already pale skin drained dead white. ”My word as an officer. General. There won't be any cheating. ”
Durd reached into his tunic pocket, pulled out a cloth and dabbed sour spittle from the corners of his mouth. ”Who will you give my money to, Barev? Who is going to find my Jedi?”
”There is a... man, ” Barev said slowly. ”For want of a better term. A bounty hunter. He's a psychic seeker. Once he catches their scent they'll be as good as dead. n.o.body escapes him, General. n.o.body. Not ever. ”
A psychic seeker. That sounded promising. That sounded as if it might actually work. And if it worked then no matter how much he had to pay, the price would be worth it.
I want those Jedi sc.u.m dead.
He wiped his mouth again, then tucked the cloth away. ”Very well, Barev. Send for him. Your psychic seeker. And for your sake, let's hope he's as good as you say. ”
CHAPTER SIX.
Behind the mask he wore as Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, the Sith Lord Darth Sidious felt every exquisitely honed instinct stir. Yoda was worried. Deeply worried. Not merely about the war, which went badly for the Republic, but about some- thins; more personal. As 41 the most skilled and experienced Jedi Master in the Temple, Yoda could hide those inconvenient feelings from everyone who knew him, but they were there.
And I can feel them. Try as you might, Yoda, you cannot hide from me.
Alas, he dared not risk an obvious question like: Master Yoda, is everything all right? Because to any other observer Yoda was his usual, emotionally uninvolved self. Not even the wonderfully sympathetic and intuitive Chancellor Palpatine could avoid arousing the Jedi's suspicions with a question like that.
He and the ancient Jedi Master were sharing tea in his stately executive suite. Just the two of them. An informal, private meeting where they could discuss the progress of the Republic's battle against the Separatists without the need for diplomatic phrasing and carefully couched a.s.sessments. Without an audience of senators and lesser-ranked Jedi and the bureaucrats whose job it was to insist upon a data trail for every decision. One day soon he would rule the galaxy in such a fas.h.i.+on and longingly looked forward to that time, coming ever closer now. Close enough to touch, to taste, to dream about in brief sleep.
Beyond the transparisteel windows of Palpatine's office, Coruscant sank slowly and inevitably into dusk. He loved twilight-such a symbolic time of day. He loved to watch this sprawling, garish city-planet descend into darkness. For only in darkness could the light of the Sith truly s.h.i.+ne.
And as Coruscant sinks... so sinks this puling, pathetic, crumbling Republic.
Yoda was droning on about the s.h.i.+pboard communications crisis. Progress on purging the corruption from the GAR Fleet was slow but steady. The culprits responsible hadn't been found yet but they would be, he could a.s.sure the Supreme Chancellor of that.
Experienced Jedi truth-readers were even now interviewing key s.h.i.+pyard and related GAR personnel. They would uncover the facts of this calamitous conspiracy and then the newly invigorated GAR would undo the damage of sabotage, thus winning back the ground lost to the Separatists.