“No you don’t,” Brakiss assured him. “Your friends have told you to hate the Empire, but you never witnessed any of it firsthand. You’ve only seen their version of history. You realize, of course, that whichever government is in charge always makes the defeated enemy look like a monster. I will tell you the truth. The Empire had very little political chaos. Every person had opportunities. There were no gangs running wild through the streets of Coruscant. Everyone had a task to do, and they did it willingly.
“Besides, what does galactic politics have to do with you, young Zekk? You’ve never been concerned with such things. Would your life really change if the Chief of State were replaced by a different politician in a different Empire? If you work with us, on the other hand, your life could be much improved.”
Zekk shook his head, clamping his teeth together. “I won’t betray my friends,” he growled.
“Your friends,” Brakiss said. “Oh, yes … the ones who never tested you for Jedi potential, the ones who only come to visit you when it fits into their social schedule. They’re going to leave you behind, you know, as they find more ‘important’ work to do. They’ll forget about you so fast you won’t have time to blink.”
“No,” Zekk whispered. “No they won’t.”
“Tell me, what does the future hold for you?” Brakiss continued, his voice persuasive. “Certainly, you’ve made friends that move in rich and important circles—but will you ever be a part of that? Be honest with yourself.”
Zekk didn’t answer, though he knew the truth deep in his heart.
“You’ll be scavenging for the rest of your years, selling trinkets to earn enough credits for your next meal. Do you really have any chance for power or glory or importance of your own?”
Again, Zekk refused to answer. Brakiss leaned forward, his beautifully chiseled features radiating kindness and concern. “I’m offering you that chance, boy. Are you brave enough to take it?”
Zekk searched for the strength to resist, focused on a thread of anger. “The same chance you offered to Jaina and Jacen? They told me how you kidnapped them, brought them to the Shadow Academy, and tortured them.”
“Tortured them?” Brakiss laughed and shook his blond head. “I suppose after being pampered all their lives, a bit of hard work might seem like torture. I offered to train them to become powerful Jedi—I admit it was a mistake. We wanted young Jedi Knights to train, but the candidates we invited were too high-profile. The risk was greater than we had anticipated, and it called too much attention to our academy.
“So I decided to change my plan. As I told you, the Force moves as strongly within the less-fortunate as in those who are rich and powerful. Your social status doesn’t concern me in the least, Zekk—only your talent and your willingness to develop it. Tamith Kai and I have decided to search among the lower levels of society for people whose potential is just as great as in those among the higher levels, and yet whose disappearance won’t cause such a stir. People with the incentive to work with us.”
Zekk scowled, but Brakiss’s eyes blazed. “If you join us, I guarantee you the name of Zekk will never be ignored or forgotten.”
The cell door opened again, and a stormtrooper held out a tray with steaming beverages and delicious-looking pastries. “Let’s have a snack while we keep talking,” Brakiss said. “I trust most of your questions have been answered, but feel free to ask anything else you wish.”
Zekk realized that he was voraciously hungry, and he took three of the pastries, licking his lips as he ate them. He had never tasted anything so wonderful in his life.
The implications of Brakiss’s words terrified him, but the questions about his future bubbled to the surface again and again in his mind. Although Zekk didn’t want to admit it, he could not shake the feeling that Brakiss and his promises made a lot of sense.
As Brakiss sealed the door behind him on his way out, he turned to the stormtrooper guards in the hall. “See that the boy gets a nicer room,” he said. “I don’t think we’ll have much trouble with him.”
The master of the Shadow Academy glided down the corridor as the old TIE pilot marched up to report. Qorl was still in his black armored suit and cradled his skull-like helmet in his powerful droid arm. “The captured Rebel cruiser Adamant is now enclosed within our shields, Lord Brakiss,” he said. “Its weaponry is being off-loaded even as we speak.”
Brakiss smiled broadly. “Excellent. Was it as big a shipment as we expected?”
Qorl nodded. “Affirmative, sir. The hyperdrive cores and turbolaser batteries will enable us to virtually double the Second Imperium’s military strength. It was a wise move to strike now.”
Brakiss folded his hands together, letting his flowing silvery sleeves swallow them up. “Most excellent. Everything is proceeding as planned. I will report to our Great Leader and tell him the good news. Before long, the Empire will shine again—and these Rebels can do nothing to prevent it.”
12
“Shuttle Moon Dash, this is Coruscant Control Tower One. You are cleared to leave spacedock. Bay doors opening in Gamma Section.”
Captain Narek-Ag opened her main comm channel. “Thank you, Tower One. This is shuttle Moon Dash, heading for Gamma bay doors with a full load of cargo.” She switched off the comm unit and grinned conspiratorially at her copilot, Trebor. “A few more good payloads like this,” she said, “and I may just ask you to marry me.” Her hazel eyes held a teasing look.
Trebor grinned back, accustomed to his captain’s sense of humor. “Keep making good business deals like this one, and I may just accept.”
With the ease born of long practice, Narek guided her shuttle out of its docking bay in one of Coruscant’s orbiting space stations. “Coordinates locked in?” she asked.
“Locked in and confirmed,” her copilot answered the moment she finished speaking.
Narek chuckled as her shuttle streaked away from the spacedock. Accelerating through the inner Coruscant system, she calibrated their hyperspace path for Bespin, the next planet on their run. “You know, for a small-time operation—
“—we’re not half bad,” Trebor finished for her.
“Not half bad,” she echoed with a satisfied nod. “Calculating hyperspace path.”
“Almost ready,” Trebor said. “If we hurry, there might be enough time to deliver this cargo to Cloud City and still arrange for a second payload on the return trip. That would double our profit for this run.”
A pleased smile spread across Narek’s face. She flicked her auburn hair to one side. “I love it when you think like a businessman.”
“Businessperson,” Trebor corrected. “Approaching top acceleration. Prepare for jump to lightspeed.”
Suddenly the Moon Dash lurched as if it had slammed into an impenetrable barrier. The tiny craft ricocheted, spinning uncontrollably. Alarms whooped and bright warning lights flashed across the control console.
“What was that?” Narek demanded, shaking her head to clear the blurry spots from her vision. She stared out the viewport at empty space.
“I don’t know!” Trebor said. “Nothing showed up on the sensors. Nothing showed up on the sensors! It’s supposed to be clear space!”
“Well, it’s the hardest piece of clear space I’ve ever encountered,” Narek-Ag shot back. “Damage report!”
“Not sure. Can you get us stabilized?” her copilot asked. “Okay, looks like we got a lower hull rupture. Awww, there goes all our cargo! Engines running beyond the red lines.” He swallowed. “We are in deep trouble, lady.”
Then, as if to emphasize Trebor’s assessment, a shower of sparks erupted from the main guidance console. Moon Dash careened out of control.