Star Wars: The Last of the Jedi, Volume 9

by Jude Watson

  “I don’t know,” Clive said. “But wouldn’t it be a good idea to find out? Look, if she’s Eve Yarrow, that means she left Acherin with a vast fortune. She couldn’t just walk into any bank in the galaxy and deposit it without someone reporting on it.”

  “There are plenty of places in the galaxy to hide wealth,” Astri observed.

  “Sure, for criminals,” Clive said. “But what about upstanding citizens? How could they do it without the Empire’s help? It’s a whole new galaxy now, my beauty. The Empire’s eye is everywhere.”

  Astri shook her head. “You’re jumping to conclusions again.”

  “So we jump! We don’t have time to stay put,” Clive declared. He turned to Keets. “Do you still have your notes?”

  “Sure. I loaded everything onto Dex’s databank. He’s trying to collect all the information he can so that any resistance will have a data library to go to once we start really organizing,” Keets said.

  “Can you trace a specific corporation’s holdings? Astri wasn’t able to. It’s buried.”

  “No, it disappeared,” Astri said sharply. “If it was just buried, I would have found it.”

  “I’m sure the Empire wiped it. But I have the records from before the Clone Wars officially ended,” Keets said. “I might be able to turn something up. Yarrow Industries, right?” He moved to the dataport. His fingers flipped through holofiles while he searched. Clive drummed his fingers on the desk.

  “Here we go. The operations for Yarrow Industries were moved near the end of the war to Niro 11. That’s a moon ringing the planet Niro, which was once pretty much owned by the Banking Clan.”

  Astri leaned forward. “Does it say who authorized the transfer?”

  “No, just that it was authorized. Some top-level Imperial, I’m sure.”

  Astri read over Keet’s shoulder. “Wait a second. That’s standard bank security coding. I might be able to slice into the records.” Keets moved over, and she sat at the computer. Her fingers flew as she concentrated, wide awake now. In a few minutes, she let out a low whistle. “I can’t break in, but I can see that the account is active. There’s levels of privacy code here. A trigger if it gets accessed from the outside. It’ll send off an alert.”

  “So what do you think?” Clive asked.

  Astri spun around on her chair. “I think we’re going to Niro 11.”

  The sight of thousands of blooming yellow flowers amid the grass was amazing indeed. As the park came into view, Ferus stopped walking just to take it in. It was like a blue, green, and golden sea that undulated in waves caused by the breeze, each shiver uncovering another vivid shade.

  “What’s the matter?” Hydra asked next to him.

  “The flowers,” Ferus said, still visually stunned.

  “Oh. That.” She kept up her pace, not pausing a bit. “I’ll start interviewing the parents.”

  He had tried to get rid of her, but could think of no plausible excuse to keep Hydra away. She had researched the park and knew about the festival, and of course the two of them could cover more ground than one Inquisitor could.

  The park was full of children, as though the city of Aldera had shaken out all their youngsters into this one area. Children running, children squealing, children gathering baskets of the bell-shaped flowers. As they walked into the park, one of them, a charming girl with golden curls, threw a handful of flowers into the air as if in greeting. Golden blossoms fell on Hydra’s brown hood. The disgust on Hydra’s face would have been comical if the whole thing weren’t so serious.

  “It will be hard to keep track of all these children,” Ferus said.

  “That’s our job,” Hydra said.

  Ferus could only bear Hydra’s company for so long. “Let’s split up so we can cover more territory,” he suggested. She glided away.

  Ferus called on the Force to help him slow time and sharpen his perceptions. It was a state of alertness that was very close to battle-mind. Now instead of an indistinguishable mass of happy faces he picked out individual after individual. The greedy boy who could not stop chewing his muffins as he gathered more flowers, the little girl sitting with a small hill of flowers in her lap, the minder who was weaving the flowers into a wreath for her silent and watchful charge.

  A little girl caught his attention, a glint of sun on hair so pale it was the color of moonbeams. She scooped up handfuls of petals and scattered them as she ran. A smaller girl followed her, mimicking her movements. Although only a toddler—she couldn’t have been walking for very long—she ran in wide loops through the long grass, without the usual unsteadiness of a girl her age. As Ferus watched, a toy, a model of a starfighter, winged through the air toward the girl. She caught it in her hand and sent it shooting back, looping in the same way she was running. As she ran she caught the toy again and flung it backhanded this time, where it looped and came toward her again.

  Not easy. Extraordinary balance and reflexes for someone that young. An observer would merely think her…precocious.

  He strolled forward, keeping a parallel track. As he got closer he gathered in the Force around him and searched, but could feel no answering Force from the little girl. If she had a Force connection, he couldn’t feel it. But nevertheless he felt…something. Instinct pricked the back of his neck.

  They were approaching the stairway to the top of the bluff. The girl ran up it, following the taller, pale-haired girl. Ferus followed.

  “Winter!” the toddler called out the name, and the pale-haired girl turned. The toddler pointed straight ahead at the gate.

  “They fixed it,” the older girl said.

  A slender young woman with coiled braids hurried up the steps past Ferus. “There you are, you two!”

  Ferus tuned out the noise of children’s laughter, the wind in the tall grasses. He needed to hear this conversation.

  The young woman put her hand on the toddler’s hair and stroked it gently. “Yes, Leia. I see it, too. No one will get hurt again.”

  “Memily won’t fall.”

  “No, blossom. I won’t fall.” The young woman hugged the little girl.

  Leia?

  Was that a common name on Alderaan? Could the toddler be Bail’s daughter? Ferus searched his memory. He’d read the file on the palace inhabitants on the way to Alderaan. Winter was Leia’s playmate, who lived in the royal household.

  Stunned, Ferus walked away from the group before they noticed him. So Leia was the toddler who had saved her caregiver. Leia had a possible Force connection. Leia was the child the Inquisitors were looking for.

  Did Bail know?

  A new thought blazed across Ferus’s brain.

  Did Obi-Wan know?

  Why else had he been so insistent that Ferus travel to Alderaan?

  Well, thanks, Obi-Wan. Maybe the next time you send me off to investigate, you’ll give me all the facts.

  Ferus tried to shake off his annoyance. This went beyond his own feelings. There was an Imperial spy on Alderaan, and Bail’s family was in danger.

  Hydra moved toward him, her cloak sweeping the ground behind her. Ferus noted how she moved straight through the grass, not caring about the children, her face impassive, never smiling. The mothers and fathers at the park had noticed her, and Ferus saw how they drew closer to their children as Hydra walked by.

  He signaled her not to approach him and headed for the exit. It was important that he not be seen with her.

  At the exit to the park, she came up to him. “Find anything?”

  He looked at her, into her dark eyes, shiny and impersonal as stones. He would have to protect Bail’s family against her, too.

  “No,” he said. “Nothing.”

  Later that day, Ferus left Hydra at the office of Official Records. Reluctantly he made his way back to the palace. He had no idea what he would do. He couldn’t just come out and tell Bail he feared for his family. Bail would think it was a trick.

  He made his way through the official entrance, down the twisting path. He
struck off in a different direction this time. The flowers gave way to fruit trees, then vegetables in neat rows. He was in the kitchen garden now.

  Double doors were flung open onto a small slate patio, and he heard the sound of humming and smelled fresh bread. Ferus walked forward.

  The same young woman he’d seen in the park—Memily—was now wearing a long apron and a colorful head-wrap. She stood at the counter, chopping fruit. Around her was a spotless kitchen, a long wooden table that stretched the length of the room, mellow wood polished from years of use. A counter held six loaves of warm bread.

  “Stop right there,” the young woman said without turning. “Whoever it is, you should know better than to invade my kitchen on baking day.”

  “Then you shouldn’t let the smell out into the garden.”

  She turned, smiling, wiping her hands on her apron. “You must be here for the meeting. You can go through those doors and turn left for the reception rooms. Here.”

  She cut a thick slice of bread and spread it with a honey mixture. “I’ll be bringing refreshments to the meeting, but you can sneak a piece. One slice, that’s all.”

  Ferus took a bite of the bread and let out a sigh. “Best in the galaxy,” he praised.

  “I don’t fall for flattery.”

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  He munched on the bread, watching Memily’s quick, efficient movements as she chopped fruit and then spooned it into small pastry shells.

  “For the children,” she said. “They call these Memily’s baskets.” She smiled. “I’ve seen Senator Organa sneak them, too.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Ferus said. “The family seems very close,” he added.

  “Oh, yes, it’s a pleasure to work here. The children fill the house with laughter. I do double duty, you know, and watch them sometimes just for the fun of it. This is a royal household, but you’d never know it. There’s no protocol here. The Queen has been here in the kitchen, kneading bread with me, many times. Leia, too. They want to bring her up right, you know. Strong and sure, but knowing that she’s blessed to have so much. You have to start early. When she came to them, it was a stroke of good fortune. We knew how sad the Queen had been.”

  Ferus nodded, but he wasn’t sure what Memily meant. “It must have been hard, to see her that way,” he said. Sometimes a neutral comment would bring you information you wouldn’t get with a question.

  “She wanted her own children. It wasn’t meant to be. But a newborn comes and it becomes the child you’re meant to have. Leia has been a great gift to the household.”

  Leia was adopted. The news surprised Ferus. And Leia had been a newborn when she came here, which meant she’d been adopted at the end of the Clone Wars. That made sense. The war had created many orphans.

  Ferus stood. “Thank you for the bread.”

  Memily smiled her good-bye and he left the kitchen.

  Ferus headed toward the public wing of the house, where Bail had received him earlier. He found himself in a broad hallway and heard the murmur of voices. He drew closer, trying to focus on the sounds. Normally they would be undetectable, but he reached out with the Force.

  “…I declined because I think it’s too soon,” Bail said. “Breha agrees with me.”

  “I see your thinking. Alderaan can always join a united resistance movement once it’s firmly established. There’s no need to place us in danger.”

  “That’s not my reason, Deara.” Breha spoke now. “We would share the risk if we felt the moment was right. That’s not the issue. If you disagree, please tell us. We value your opinion.”

  “I agree with you and Bail, Breha. But there is something else. Something disturbing I’ve heard. There are many in Aldera who feel they should form a resistance movement. And prepare for invasion, should that come. They feel we should reexamine our weapons policy in light of what’s happening on other planets. What if Alderaan is invaded?”

  “If Alderaan is invaded we can hardly hope to defeat the Empire’s forces,” Bail said. “We have no weapons, no attack ships.”

  “But the people feel they would want to defend themselves.”

  “If we got through the Clone Wars without arming ourselves, we can outlast the Empire,” Breha said, her tone sharp.

  “Of course. I’m just repeating what I’ve heard.”

  Ferus heard the sound of boots hurrying along the hallway. He faded back and concealed himself around a corner.

  “Raymus Antilles!” It was the Queen’s voice. “We started the meeting without you, but we can—”

  “I have news.”

  The doors shut behind Raymus. Suddenly Ferus couldn’t hear a thing. He walked closer, making no sound. His breathing slowed; his movements were quick but completely noiseless. Not a rustle of cloth, not a brush against a wall, not even a disturbance of air. Ferus closed his eyes. He let the Force guide him. The noises of the palace came to him, sounds he hadn’t even registered, sounds he hadn’t heard. Conversation outside in the garden. Memily closing the oven door. An insect was scratching behind a wall….

  The door was wood, and there was a new barrier behind it…something to muffle sound. Durasteel most likely. But even durasteel was slightly porous. It was made up of particles, like anything else, like fabric, like wood. And through those spaces he could slip, all attention, everything focused on sound.

  Raymus: He has landed at the spaceport. He’ll be here in moments.

  Bail: This is not unexpected. Palpatine was bound to send his enforcer sooner or later. The question is, what does he want?

  Queen Breha: What should we do?

  Raymus: You must receive him, of course. But Bail, if you have a message for Mon Mothma, give it to me now. I can still slip away and get to the Tantive. If he is authorized by the Emperor to search he won’t find anything.

  Bail: Here. Take this.

  Raymus: They could shut down our landing platform, our hangars…they could imprison Bail….

  Breha: He wouldn’t dare.

  Raymus: They’ve done it to others.

  Breha: We must give the appearance of cooperation. We must avoid an Imperial Governor at all costs.

  Bail: Go now. Do not travel to Coruscant directly but head out to the TerraAsta spaceport and get lost in the heavy galactic traffic there.

  Suddenly, Ferus felt the dark side of the Force surge. It was a feeling he was accustomed to now. Usually it was followed by the swish of a cape and the whoosh, whoosh of a breath mask. Darth Vader had arrived.

  Following his Force connection now, Ferus headed down through the sunny hallways to the back of the palace. He saw Vader immediately. The Dark Lord strode directly through the vegetable garden, crushing everything beneath his boots.

  It was time to stall him. Ferus needed to give Raymus a chance to get away.

  He found a floor-to-ceiling window that slid open noiselessly with a wave of his hand over the sensor. Vader looked over as he stepped out onto a stone terrace.

  “Lord Vader,” Ferus said, crossing to greet him. He looked down pointedly at the plants, twisted and matted, at Vader’s feet. “Doing your usual work, I see.”

  “Why are you here?” Vader demanded.

  “I needed permission from Senator Organa to search classified files,” he said.

  “You hardly need permission,” Vader said.

  Behind Vader, he suddenly saw a flash of white, a blur of pink. Winter and Leia ran through a fountain at the far end of the garden.

  His heartbeat accelerated, but he knew Vader would be able to detect any nerves, so he used his Force-training to slow it down. He would need to distract him, though. If indeed Leia had a Force-connection, Vader might be able to pick it up.

  “The investigation is going well,” he said. “Inquisitor Hydra is at the office of Official Records right now.”

  Vader made an impatient gesture.

  “But I’m sure we’ll conclude this investigation soon,” Ferus continued. “Our next stop is Mustafar
,” he added.

  Vader didn’t move. He didn’t betray surprise, but Ferus felt it. For the first time, he had penetrated Vader’s mask. He knew it. He had rocked him. If they’d been dueling, this would have counted as the first contact, the first aggressive move that would surprise his opponent.

  Behind Vader, he saw Breha quickly hustle the girls out of the garden.

  “This is a waste of my time,” Vader said. “As usual.”

  He pushed by Ferus.

  Ferus wasn’t insulted. Not in the least.

  Mustafar. Amie had been right. Whatever had happened to Vader had happened there.

  Now he just had to find out what.

  Mustafar!

  What did Olin mean? What did he know?

  Vader could feel his heartbeat push the breath through his mask more quickly. Little explosions of air rang in his ears. How he wished he could throw off this mask, peel off this armor, and get the body he knew back! The strong legs and arms, the fluid movements, the ability to throw himself down on meadow grass next to Padmé….

  Stop.

  He would not allow those thoughts.

  For a moment he had thought of Naboo. Had almost remembered a day with Padmé.

  The memories were dimmer, but they were not gone. They could still administer a fresh shot of agony if they came.

  He needed Zan Arbor’s memory drug. As soon as he was finished with Organa, he would head back to Coruscant and shake that woman like a Nek battle dog with a bone until she worked day and night to perfect it.

  He would get rid of the memories. And get rid of Ferus Olin. The plan was in place.

  Bail turned away from the security monitor, where Darth Vader and Ferus Olin had been conferring. Too much Imperial activity on his planet. Until now the Emperor had treated him more like a pesky insect than a real threat. That had suited his purposes. But now the Empire was becoming consolidated, the Emperor had turned his eye to Alderaan. Definitely not good news.

  Vader had entered the compound by using the family gate, heading straight for the private family wing. It had been done deliberately, just to let Bail know that there was nothing in this royal compound that Vader wasn’t aware of. He wanted this visit to seem like an invasion.