backward. Keets flipped the blaster and used the hilt to knock him on the head. Zackery fell heavily.
Keets turned to the three security droids and blasted them into smoking metal.
Keets and Curran stepped over Zackery’s inert body. They peered out into the hallway. The Senate was coming to life again as Senators, aides, and droids reported for work. Intent on their
business, no one gave them a second glance. Together with WA-7, they moved into the stream of workers.
“I suggest a fast exit,” WA-7 said. “I can find my own way out. Say hello to Dex for me!”
She wheeled away. Keets and Curran knew the Senate building as well as the homes they’d grown up in. Within moments, they had found the closest exit. They were free.
Solace steered Astri’s star cruiser straight into the hold. They all climbed out and made their way to the cockpit.
“So far so good,” Oryon muttered. “No Imperial guards rushing the ship.”
“Contact the dockmaster and get clearance,” Solace said. “That will be the real test. I’ll start the departure checks.”
They all stayed in the cockpit, too anxious to find seating. Astri kept Lune close by her side.
“Request permission to take off,” Oryon spoke into the comm unit.
“Checking data,” the dockmaster replied.
Minutes ticked by.
They exchanged worried glances.
“It’s taking too long,” Solace said.
“Of course they changed the registry numbers!” Sauro screamed at the Imperial officer sitting at the databank that monitored all Imperial traffic. “Look for a
ship that matches its description.”
The officer keyed in more data. He sent another holographic space map into the air.
“Now give me the data from every spaceport near its last known position,” Sauro said, pacing behind him.
“Senator, there is a ship on the landing platform on Samaria.…”
Sauro stopped pacing. Samaria! Of course. The hijacking hadn’t been random at all. They’d gone straight to the planet where Ferus Olin was. How could he have missed it? He’d
been so blind.
“That’s it. Get me the dockmaster, now.”
“The spaceport is still in the hands of the Samarians, sir, not us—”
“Just get him!”
A moment later, an obviously nervous dockmaster was on the comm.
“Yes, there is an Imperial ship. It’s a diplomatic ship. It’s been cleared for departure.”
“Stop that ship! Now!” Sauro shouted.
“But sir, it’s an
Imperial
ship,” the dockmaster said patiently. “You must have misunderstood me. All Imperial ships are cleared to—”
“Listen to me.” Sauro leaned toward the comm. “Revoke the order and stop that ship or I will personally escort you to an Imperial prison for the rest of your life.”
“Ah, sir, I’m sorry. But I’m afraid the clearance has already been granted. The ship just cleared Samarian airspace. Sir.”
Sauro slammed his hand down on the console, breaking two sensors.
His assistant hovered by his elbow. “Sir,” he whispered. “The Emperor would like to see you. Now.”
Darth Vader left the mess of the botched pursuit behind and climbed into his custom-made airspeeder. He sat for a moment as his driver waited for orders.
Ferus Olin. So insignificant that Vader had forgotten about him. He had been a blip in his past. Something that had happened long ago, a small jealousy that had never blossomed into a real,
mature hatred. He would have been happy never to have seen him again.
But of course he survived the Clone Wars. He hadn’t been a Jedi.
Vader didn’t think of him as a rival. He had never even achieved the status of a Jedi. He had left as a Padawan. A student. Ferus couldn’t come close to matching his power.
But why was he here? Why had his Master employed him at all?
There could be only one answer. Ferus could be one of the few left in the galaxy capable of becoming a Sith apprentice. Capable of being trained, capable of rising to the heights of power.
Of course it was laughable to think this could
Keets turned to the three security droids and blasted them into smoking metal.
Keets and Curran stepped over Zackery’s inert body. They peered out into the hallway. The Senate was coming to life again as Senators, aides, and droids reported for work. Intent on their
business, no one gave them a second glance. Together with WA-7, they moved into the stream of workers.
“I suggest a fast exit,” WA-7 said. “I can find my own way out. Say hello to Dex for me!”
She wheeled away. Keets and Curran knew the Senate building as well as the homes they’d grown up in. Within moments, they had found the closest exit. They were free.
Solace steered Astri’s star cruiser straight into the hold. They all climbed out and made their way to the cockpit.
“So far so good,” Oryon muttered. “No Imperial guards rushing the ship.”
“Contact the dockmaster and get clearance,” Solace said. “That will be the real test. I’ll start the departure checks.”
They all stayed in the cockpit, too anxious to find seating. Astri kept Lune close by her side.
“Request permission to take off,” Oryon spoke into the comm unit.
“Checking data,” the dockmaster replied.
Minutes ticked by.
They exchanged worried glances.
“It’s taking too long,” Solace said.
“Of course they changed the registry numbers!” Sauro screamed at the Imperial officer sitting at the databank that monitored all Imperial traffic. “Look for a
ship that matches its description.”
The officer keyed in more data. He sent another holographic space map into the air.
“Now give me the data from every spaceport near its last known position,” Sauro said, pacing behind him.
“Senator, there is a ship on the landing platform on Samaria.…”
Sauro stopped pacing. Samaria! Of course. The hijacking hadn’t been random at all. They’d gone straight to the planet where Ferus Olin was. How could he have missed it? He’d
been so blind.
“That’s it. Get me the dockmaster, now.”
“The spaceport is still in the hands of the Samarians, sir, not us—”
“Just get him!”
A moment later, an obviously nervous dockmaster was on the comm.
“Yes, there is an Imperial ship. It’s a diplomatic ship. It’s been cleared for departure.”
“Stop that ship! Now!” Sauro shouted.
“But sir, it’s an
Imperial
ship,” the dockmaster said patiently. “You must have misunderstood me. All Imperial ships are cleared to—”
“Listen to me.” Sauro leaned toward the comm. “Revoke the order and stop that ship or I will personally escort you to an Imperial prison for the rest of your life.”
“Ah, sir, I’m sorry. But I’m afraid the clearance has already been granted. The ship just cleared Samarian airspace. Sir.”
Sauro slammed his hand down on the console, breaking two sensors.
His assistant hovered by his elbow. “Sir,” he whispered. “The Emperor would like to see you. Now.”
Darth Vader left the mess of the botched pursuit behind and climbed into his custom-made airspeeder. He sat for a moment as his driver waited for orders.
Ferus Olin. So insignificant that Vader had forgotten about him. He had been a blip in his past. Something that had happened long ago, a small jealousy that had never blossomed into a real,
mature hatred. He would have been happy never to have seen him again.
But of course he survived the Clone Wars. He hadn’t been a Jedi.
Vader didn’t think of him as a rival. He had never even achieved the status of a Jedi. He had left as a Padawan. A student. Ferus couldn’t come close to matching his power.
But why was he here? Why had his Master employed him at all?
There could be only one answer. Ferus could be one of the few left in the galaxy capable of becoming a Sith apprentice. Capable of being trained, capable of rising to the heights of power.
Of course it was laughable to think this could
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