[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 01(43)

“You

say nothing new.” Contempt showed in

the Emperor’s eyes. “That is the same thing that my admirals tell me. They are not believers, as Lord Vader is; they doubt the existence of any power that they cannot unleash with the push of a button. They doubt, even when they’ve had the edifying experience of feeling the Force crushing the life out of them. Doubt weakens and makes fools out of such creatures.” An unwavering hand raised and pointed toward Xizor. “You’re not such a fool, are you?”



Xizor bowed his head. “I do not doubt, my lord.”



“That’s why I’m still listening to you.” The Em peror’s hand lowered and stroked the arm of the throne. “My patience is such, however, that I listen to the Imperial admirals as well, fools that they are. Even fools say wise things, from time to time. And that is why I

gave

permission for their great

project,

the construction of what they called the Death Star-“



“You should have listened to me,” said Vader. The rush of his breath sounded louder and angrier. “The Rebellion was growing even then, and the admirals wasted your time on such folly. I told them that the Death Star, when it was completed, would be a machine and nothing more. Its power would be nothing compared to that which you already possess.” Vader’s voice darkened in tone, indicating the depths of his annihilating temper. “And I was proved right, was I not, my lord?”



“Indeed you were, Vader.” The Emperor gave a single nod. “But even in the wretchedness of their folly, my admirals were still right about one thing. Their little minds are made of the same unenlightened stuff as are the minds of most of the galaxy’s inhabitants. They see things the same way-and other things are invisible to them. The Jedi Knights are no longer; they were the only ones, other than ourselves, who could see the Force for what it is. These lesser creatures are blind to that which moves the stars in all the worlds’ skies and the blood in the veins of those below. They need something they can see-that was what my admirals hoped to give them with the Death Star. Its power-such as it was-lay within the comprehension of all the lesser creatures; it would have evoked the fear and obedience that the subtleties of the Force would take a great deal longer to achieve. You were right that it was a machine and nothing more. But still a useful machine. A tool. When all that is required is a hammer, it is folly to turn the universe’s primal energy to such mundane purposes.”



Darth Vader stood unmoved by the Emperor’s words. “I trust that you will remember one thing. A hammer can be broken, as can any other tool. The Death Star was destroyed. But the Force is eternal.”



“I won’t forget, Vader. But for now, all such simple tools are the concern of my admirals. Let them occupy themselves with building better ones, if they can. We have already distracted ourselves from our purpose here.” The Emperor turned back toward Prince Xizor. “You say the Empire is at risk. You tell me nothing new. I am aware of the threat presented by the Rebel Alliance-a threat that will be extinguished in due time. But the level of your concern, Xizor, is what I find surprising. It sounds like doubt to me, no matter what you say to the contrary. And doubt should be eliminated at the source.”



“Not doubt, but the truth.” The edges of Xizor’s own intricately stitched robes trailed across his boots as he folded his arms across his chest. “You cannot vanquish the

Alliance without creating new threats to your authority. As your power increases and becomes closer to absolute, so does an unavoidable hazard. A hazard that is woven into the very fiber of the Empire.”



“He speaks nonsense, my lord.”



“Nonsense to those who cannot see.” Xizor gazed from the corner of his eye at the black-garbed figure standing next to him. “Perhaps Lord Vader is blinded by the Force. After all, his mastery of it is not equal to your own.”



The invisible hand Xizor felt at his throat suddenly tightened, as hard and constricting as an iron band. Even Vader’s mere image had the power to kill. Xizor’s chin was thrust backward, the vision in his eyes filled with trapped blood.



“Leave him be, Vader.” The Emperor’s voice came from somewhere beyond that darkening red cloud. “I’m intrigued by what he has to say. I want to hear the rest. Before I make my decision.”



The hand let go, and breath flooded back into Xizor’s lungs. He had kept his arms folded throughout the brief 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.