[Last Of The Jedi] - 08(19)

“Suits me fine,” Ferus said. “I’m allergic to hard work.”

Jako chuckled. “Second that.” He pushed the greasy plate toward Ferus. “Want a root chip?”

“No thanks. I need to familiarize myself with the system.”

“Just don’t go crazy. We like to take it easy in this department.”

Ferus began to call up the database and flipped through it in a seemingly casual way. He zeroed in on records from the end of the Clone Wars, near the time that Darth Vader had first surfaced.

While Jako crunched beside him and called up a Podrace on his vidscreen, Ferus searched through the material. Nothing popped out at him. EmPal had been changing over from its old role as a medical center open to all to an exclusive med facility and biomechani-cal reconstruction center. He could find no record of extraordinary procedures or evidence of a cover-up. Then again, he hadn’t expected this to be easy.

Jako finished his meal and pushed back his rolling chair to rest his feet on the console. He crossed his arms on his chest. Ferus hoped he would go to sleep. The next step was to go deeper into the system, looking for security codes he could break. But the system might send up alarms or flashes that Jako could see from his position.

“Listen, new guy, I’m going to take a snooze,” Jako said. “Don’t wake me up if work calls. And don’t be scared of the ghost!” he chortled.

Ferus was relieved as Jako’s eyes closed.

The ghost. Malory had mentioned it, too.

“What ghost?” he asked.

Jako’s eyes flew open, but he didn’t seem annoyed at being disturbed. “It happened about a year ago,” he said, lowering his voice to a ragged whisper. “Near the very end of the Clone Wars. A scream was heard. A scream so terrible and so loud that it echoed throughout the building and made the sensors go crazy. It was said that one med worker lost his hearing. Permanently. The med workers searched and searched for the source of the sound, but there was… nothing. There was only a handful of patients at that time. It had seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, but no patient had done it.” Jako’s voice had lowered to a whisper. “It was as though all the dead of the Clone Wars had screamed their death cries at the same time, then gone back to being dead.”

Ferus knew that in his slightly incoherent way Jako was trying to spook him, and it had worked. Just not in the way he’d thought.

Jako winked. “Enjoy the night shift.” He closed his eyes again, and, smiling, was asleep in seconds.

Ferus thought once more about Vader’s prosthetics. They were extensive, from a breath-mask to vision enhancement to possible artificial limbs. He was fairly certain that Vader had at least one artificial hand. And he was regulated by what seemed to be a complex bio-system within that suit.

For the first time, Ferus wondered what awful injuries he must have sustained. What had happened to the guy?

He had been chasing the wrong idea. Vader, whoever he was, must have been in terrible pain.

Ferus turned back to his console. He dumped the med records he’d been searching. There would be no mention there, not even behind security shields. He was suddenly positive of that. Instead, he accessed the blueprints of the building.

Everywhere and nowhere.

His instincts had kicked in, and he knew he was right Somewhere in this building, Darth Vader had been born.





CHAPTER TWELVE


Sano Sauro’s career might be ruined, but it wasn’t over. He still had favors to call in, and if Senators and functionaries thought he’d just go away, they had another thing coming. He had been close to power, and he would be again.

His office in the Senate, that grand chamber that had trumpeted his power to one and all… that was gone, given to the Senator of some big Core system who had rolled over for the Emperor and needed to be thanked. Sauro was stuck in a tiny office at the new Imperial Navy building. His job was to oversee the new Naval Academy. One school, in comparison to whole systems!

And, to make matters worse, those below him who had served him, fools who had done just what he wanted but had never been able to come up with an original plan on their own - fools like Bog Divinian - they were now Imperial governors. Wielding power without knowing what to do with it.

Sauro coughed in his handkerchief. The bile inside him was giving him trouble. His nights were restless, his days filled with bitterness. He had to get out of here. He had to rise again, and he had to wreak vengeance on those who had crossed him or, worse, patronized him.

His assistant, a dolt sent by the Imperial administration office, came in, looking nervous. “A communication for you, Lord Sauro.”

“I’m not a lord. Call me Senator Sauro.”