by K. W. Jeter
ordeal, determined not to claw at his throat the way he
had seen Vader's other, weaker victims do. But I won't
forget, brooded Xizor. The other's touch, invisible or
not, was an affront to the haughty pride that was
characteristic of all Falleens. The day would come when
all such offenses would be paid for.
"I speak better," said Xizor, "when the Emperor keeps
a tight leash on his underlings." His voice rasped in his
throat; when he swallowed, he tasted his own blood. "But
the quality of those who serve my lord is exactly that on
which I need to speak." His slit-pupiled gaze took in
Vader and the Emperor. "You have both spoken of the fools
who serve the Empire; necessary fools, but fools
nonetheless. Do you think the situation is going to get
any better, especially now that the Rebellion courts all
those with an independent streak to their natures?"
A sneer sounded in Vader's voice. "They seal their
fates with their 'independent' natures, as you describe
them. The Rebels will be crushed."
"Undoubtedly so," said Xizor. "But that day of
triumph is dekyed by the Emperor's own power. That seems
a riddle, but it is one that can be solved by those with
eyes to see."
"Go on." The Emperor gestured toward Xizor. "You have
my full attention. Make sure you use it well."
He had prepared for this moment; the words were
already chosen. He had only to speak them. And then await
the outcome of his gamble.
"As I said The problem is with those who serve you."
Xizor pointed to the high transparisteel windows behind
the throne, with their vista of limitless stars. "On all
the worlds that are within your grasp, those who resist
your power will be crushed; Lord Vader speaks the truth
about that. But what does that leave you? Fools such as
the Imperial admirals; fools who cannot even recognize
the existence of the Force. If they are not fools before
they enter your service, they become so soon after. How
can it be otherwise? Your power annihilates their will,
their capacity to judge and make decisions, their ability
to operate on their own. Not everyone in the galaxy has a
nature as strong as mine or Lord Vader's."
"This is true," said Emperor Palpatine. "And it is
not a matter that has gone unnoticed by me. I see those
who have gone over to the side of the Rebellion, and I
recognize their strengths. It is a cruel waste to destroy
them, no matter how necessary that might be." His voice
dropped, low and musing. "How much better it would be if
they could be brought over to our side. . . ."
Xizor concealed a shiver of disgust. As far-reaching
as his own ambitions were, they paled by comparison to
Palpatine's. There was something in the withered figure
that didn't want just to control the galaxy's sentient
creatures, but to consume them the way a greedy Hutt
swallowed its wriggling food. The small and weak ones
will go first, thought Xizor. And then someday it'll be
the turn of Vader and me. That would be the reward for
their loyalty. To be consumed last . . .
Survival as well as ambition had dictated the cre
ation of Black Sun. The Rebels were brave idiots to
openly oppose the Emperor's might; for himself, Xizor had
already decided that an existence in the shadows, the
darkness in which criminals always wrapped themselves,
was preferable to the Empire's insatiable appetite.
"There are those," said Xizor, "who would prefer
death rather than serve the Empire."
Palpatine gave a small shrug. "So be it."
"But in the meantime you must deal with those whom
you do command. And many of those are-let us be realistic
about this, my lord-not of the first caliber. Some were
born fools, others achieved idiocy through their own
efforts, but many of the rest simply had their minds and
spirits obliterated by your power." Xizor unfolded his
arms so he could spread his hands apart, palms outward.
"Fear is an effective motivator, but it is also a
corrosive one. It has an effect inside those who suffer
it-"
"Are you one of those, Xizor?"
He shook his head. "Since I do not fear death, I do
not fear that which might cause it. I fear your
disapproval, my lord." Another lie. "If your displeasure
is sufficient cause for my death, then I will have earned
that fate."
"You haven't displeased me," said the Emperor. "Yet.
Continue."
"Not many of your servants, my lord, would risk your
anger by telling you what you need to know. If some call
me rash"-he glanced over at Vader-"you nevertheless might
come to value my excess of courage. For this is the
truth That which makes you powerful, that makes sentient
creatures into tools in your hands, is the same thing
that makes those tools weak and ineffective. It is an
unavoidable concomitant of great power. There are those
that I command, though not at a scale comparable to you,
and I can see it in their eyes. And if you wish to crush
the Rebellion, you will need the strongest possible
forces at your call. I have contacts, spies that I have
planted within the Alliance, and they have informed me of
both the Rebels' plans and their determination to achieve
them. They'll stop at nothing to achieve your overthrow;
that's how insane their hunger for freedom is." He
understood how the Rebels felt; if he hadn't cast his lot
in with Black Sun, he could easily have joined the
Alliance. "You will win, of course, my lord; power such
as yours always wins. But not without cunning, and not
without the services of your underlings. And that's where
the problem lies. The more overwhelming the control that
you establish over your empire, and as more and more of
the universe's sentient creatures come under your domin
ion, the more you risk losing the very elements you need
to complete your galaxy-wide hegemony and defend it from
the small but growing forces of the Rebellion."
Lord Vader spoke up. "At one time I would have said
that such words were nonsense, if not close to treason.
However, I'm forced to admit that Prince Xizor may speak
truth. I would not have had the difficulties that I've
experienced with the Imperial high command if their
brains were not addled with cowardice. But then, if your
admirals were wiser creatures, the Death Star would not
have been destroyed so easily."
"Precisely so." Things were going better than Xizor
had hoped; to have Vader agree with him about anything
was a surprise. "The Empire, by its very nature, destroys
that which it needs to grow and survive. Take the
Imperial stormtroopers, for example; you have trained
them to obey, to fight, and to die in the service of the
Empire . . . but not to think. The same holds true with
practically everyone else throughou
t the Empire's chain
of command, right up to the topmost ranks; most of your
underlings, my lord, lack any creative spark, any
capability of deep analysis or real cunning; that's all
been beaten out of them, crushed by your power. But the
fledgling elements of the Rebellion do possess those
characteristics; that's why they're in the Rebellion.
Foolish they may be, to the point of being suicidal;
nevertheless, their rebellious nature is exactly that
which makes them a threat to the Empire."
The Emperor nodded, mulling over Xizor's words.
"You're very eloquent on this matter. I don't have to
worry about you showing initiative, do I?" Palpatine
raised his head, showing his unpleasant smile. "So what
would you have me do about my servants? Perhaps I should
just be ... kinder to them. Would that work?" Sarcasm
turned his voice darker and uglier. "Or else I should
just throw away the power I hold over them. But then,
what power would I have left?"
"It's not a matter of throwing away power, my lord.
Even as they are, your servants have their uses. A hammer
doesn't need a mind or a spirit to fulfill the purpose of
he who holds it. Your admirals obey your orders; that is
sufficient for them. The Imperial stormtroopers are tools
for creating the desired level of terror on your subject
planets; they would be less terrifying if they were
capable of thought. But they are like machines, right to
the core that no longer exists in them; set upon their
course, they obey and die and kill, with no possibility
of swaying them from their orders, by appeal to reason or
emotion. That is how it should be; that is how these
servants are most useful to you and to the Empire's
glory." With a nod of his head, Xizor indicated the stars
slowly wheeling behind the throne. "Nothing is achieved
by throwing away those tools, my lord, however limited
their uses may be. But what you must find are other
tools, ones that are not within the absolute grasp of
your power."
"I think," said the Emperor, "that I already have
such tools, and such servants. Standing here in front of
me."
"Just so." Lord Vader's image regarded Xizor for a
moment, then turned again toward the Emperor. "And you
must decide whether such a tool's usefulness is greater
or less than the danger it represents to the Empire."
Back to where we were before, thought Xizor. If Vader
had appeared to agree with him, it had been only for a
moment. And only for the purpose of driving another wedge
between the Emperor and any of Vader's rivals for
influence. Someday he and I will come to grips with each
other. With grim determination, Xizor looked forward to
that confrontation with Darth Vader. And then we'll
settle things, once and for all.
The Emperor spoke up. "When that happens," Palpatine
said coolly, "it will be a judgment laid upon you as
well, Lord Vader."
"Let your judgment be on our accomplishments, my
lord." Xizor's gesture took in both himself and Vader.
"And on our service to you. But as I said, the Empire
requires other servants and tools. And those cannot be
such as your stormtroopers and admirals, or even such as
Lord Vader and myself. To destroy the Rebellion, to crush
once and for all the resistance that has grown against
your power, you must employ those who have sworn no
loyalty to you."
"I think, Prince Xizor, that you may be increasing
the dangers to the Empire rather than lessening them."
"Then I have yet to make my meaning clear to you, my
lord. Extraordinary times require extraordinary measures.
The day will come when the Rebellion is no more, when
your grasp of all the galaxy's worlds will be final and
never-ending. Then you will have no need of servants and
tools with minds of their own. You may, perhaps, have no
need of me. But that is no concern of mine; my fate is
nothing compared to the glory of the Empire. But that
time is not yet here. In this time you must take into
your hand the most dangerous tools. If a vibroblade's
edge is sharp enough to cut both ways, then he who uses
it must be careful. But the only thing more dangerous
than picking it up is the failure to do so."
"You've thought this over a great deal, Prince
Xizor." The Emperor's cold, deep-set eyes studied him. "I
can hear in your words the sound of well-polished gears
meshing together. You seek to convince me. Very well; you
have. To some degree. But what I haven't heard from you
is what these sharp-edged tools are, that I should bend
to my purposes."
"That answer is very simple," said Xizor. "The tools
you need are those individuals known as the bounty
hunters."
Vader's words broke in, deeper and even more contempt-
filled. "We have gone here from folly to madness. What
the prince seeks to convince you of is nonsense. We waste
our time even contemplating it. While Prince Xizor amuses
himself with these idiotic notions, the Rebellion
marshals its forces and conspires against the Empire."
"Your antipathy to the prince's suggestion seems
somewhat extreme, Lord Vader." Beneath the unadorned
hood, the Emperor's head tilted to one side. "Have you
not employed bounty hunters yourself from time to time?
You have even spoken to me of one, that rather enigmatic
individual named Boba Fett. He's been a bounty hunter for
long enough to have gained a reputation nearly as fear-
inspiring as your own."
"A bounty hunter has his uses," said Vader stiffly.
"The prince is correct about that. But they are limited.
If I've given a few of your credits to any of them, Boba
Fett included, it was because they were willing to do
those jobs dirty enough to match their own mercenary
natures. Bounty hunters come from the sewers of the
galaxy; they find it agreeable to troll through various
criminal dens, sinkholes of depravity that can be found
on any number of planets, and locate those whose greed
rather than misplaced idealism has brought them into
contact with the Rebellion. Scum seeks out other scum;
even our Imperial stormtroopers are incapable of anything
but the most rudimentary searches through places like
that."
"Exactly," said Xizor. "Even if those were the only
uses that bounty hunters had, they would still be of
irreplaceable value to the Empire. But they have more
than that. Lord Vader uses the word 'mercenary'; he
speaks perhaps more tellingly than he realizes." He could
sense, even through the dark lenses of Vader's mask, the
angry reaction his words provoked. "A bounty hunter is
just that a mercenary. Boba Fett and the others like him
will do anything for credits. It is greed and not fear
that drives them, and that alone marks them as different
; from your admirals and stormtroopers, my lord. Violence
is a commodity for the bounty hunters, not merely the
result of followin g orders. Creatures such as those that
serve in the Empire's military forces are blind to the
deaths and terror they create; they do as much as they
are told to, and then they stop, like children's toys
whose power sources have run down. Bounty hunters, on the
other hand, seek to maximize the return from their
efforts; they have an entrepreneurial attitude rarely
found, if ever, among your followers."
"Though it is found often enough," said Vader, "among
the galaxy's criminal classes."
The suspicion struck Xizor once again, about just how
much Vader knew. Or could prove. The difference between
those conditions might be what kept Vader silent. For
now, thought Xizor.
"If you are referring to such creatures as the Hutts,
you are correct." Xizor pointed to the windows full of
stars. "And there are others besides them, working away,
building up their own little empires and spheres of
influence. They'll be dealt with, eventually. The only
reasons we should not eliminate them right now is that
the Rebellion is a more pressing concern, and the Hutts
and their ilk provide an environment for the bounty
hunters to flourish in. And that is to our advantage.
Criminals such as the infamous Jabba keep the members of
the Bounty Hunters Guild fed on a regular basis so that
they're available for our purposes whenever we need them;
independent operators such as Boba Fett find a way to
survive, and even prosper, no matter what. Since bounty
hunters deliver their services to the highest bidder, the
Empire can always get the best ones to take care of our
dirty work, as Lord Vader would call it. And right now
there is a great deal of dirty work that must be dealt
with."
"Sewers," grated Vader, "and the vermin that live in
them are belter dealt with by draining rather than lying
down in them."
"The Rebellion doesn't have the same sort of scruples
that you do, Lord Vader." Xizor regarded the black-robed
figure through narrowed eyes. "And that is why the
Rebellion is a growing danger to us. The Rebels'
desperation leads them to places that the Imperial
stormtroopers and all our spies and informers are
incapable of entering-or if they do go in there, they
don't come back out except as corpses. The creatures that
