Vader’s body armor, his breath-mask, his helmet.
Could it be that Vader received his state-of-the-art prosthetics at the Emperor’s pet project?
Malory hoisted the tray.
“Wait,” Ferus said.
“Would you like some tea?” Malory asked politely.
“No,” Ferus said. “But I would like your help.”
“Name it. You’re family.”
“I need you to take that job at EmPal.”
Carefully, Malory put down the tray. “Ferus, ask me anything, but don’t ask me to do that.”
“It’s about avenging Roan’s death,” Ferus said.
Her gaze was steady on him, reading him. She took a breath. “Then I’m in.”
CHAPTER SIX
Jenna Zan Arbor was making Darth Vader wait. No doubt it was a ploy of some kind. She didn’t know how irritable he was when beings thought they could manipulate him. She’d learn.
He had come down to the hangar as a mark of respect he didn’t have but wanted to demonstrate. The ship had landed, but she had not emerged. He would think that she would be more mindful of the respect owed to him. Not to mention the fact that she was hoping to land a contract with the Empire.
What she didn’t know was that he needed her more than she needed him. Which was why he was still standing here.
The air in the mountains was thin and sharp. A raw wind blew the top layer of snow into the air, icy particles that bit into exposed skin. Another storm was on the way. Vader knew the troops and officers weren’t happy about leaving the relative comforts of Ussa. They didn’t like the treacherous mountain terrain or the way the locals kept obscuring trails or building traps for their airspeeders. The Dark Lord ignored the complaints. The mountains had become a refuge for the Eleven. There were hundreds of resistors holed up here. The place must be purged.
He was a second away from leaving when Jenna Zan Arbor appeared at the top of the ramp, dressed in a metallic leathris cloak with black feathers, her still-blond hair piled high in a ridiculous coiffure. She paused, for effect. Was he supposed to admire her? He supposed she had been beautiful in her day, but that was long ago. Surgeries and treatments had kept her skin smooth and tight, but she was a human woman, after all. The life she had lived may not have showed in wrinkles or sags, but somehow the corruption inside her was evident.
And what will you look like, twenty years on?
The jolt of the voice rose in his mind. He felt heat rise inside his body armor. That voice - he must banish it. Forever. It was the voice of Padme. It was the voice he heard in the middle of the night, awake and sleeping. It was what pushed him from his uneasy rest and led him to stalk the confines of the garrison, checking up on those who were working through the night, becoming the bane of the night shift.
It was why Ferus Olin had grown from a petty nuisance to a problem. It wasn’t Ferus so much - he was insignificant - but the memories that leaked in when he was around. Looking at Ferus reminded Darth Vader of Anakin Skywalker. Before Ferus he had been able to think of Anakin as another person entirely.
He had derived so much satisfaction from killing Roan Lands. He hadn’t planned it, but the opportunity had presented itself, and it had been the perfect solution. He had taken from Ferus what had been taken from him. He had vanquished his enemy and brought him down.
It had been so easy. He had felt so satisfied.
His nights, however, had not been easy.
Then the Emperor had stepped in. It had been a surprise, to say the least, that his Master had arranged for Ferus’s release. Had even given him a new assignment. Vader still didn’t know why. It could be simply a test for him, Ferus a puppet in his Master’s hands. But Ferus’s release had enraged him, and that had helped him restore his balance. His fever of anger was back to ice. He was in control now.
Except for the nights.
The thing to do was focus on the moment. He watched Zan Arbor descend the ramp. She had the same brittle vitality she’d had when he’d known her before. He’d met her when he’d been a Jedi apprentice. She’d been a galactic criminal then. He’d tracked her through the galaxy, had caught her. But she wouldn’t recognize him now.
He didn’t want to think of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He didn’t want to think of Anakin Skywalker. He could not function if this woman reminded him of the past. No matter how much he needed her, he would send her away if that were the case.
With an effort of will, he chased away the ghosts of his past,
“Lord Vader.” She stopped and bowed. “I didn’t realize I had the honor of your personal reception. I would have emerged sooner.”
“Do not start our acquaintance with a lie,” Vader said.