Slight of Hand, I
Coruscant
It angered him to admit it but Ferus Olin had long been aware that there were some in the Imperial Palace who considered him a fool. It was a constant battle not to just allow them to underestimate him – a battle that he failed more often than he won. Vader – Skywalker – was chief of them. Ferus had always maintained that it was only the ex-Hand's total disrespect for the established rule and his freakish midi-chlorian count that had won him so much favor with the Emperor.
Well, Ferus thought with a satisfied smirk as he strolled through the corridors of the Palace, that little chapter in his life was closed for good.
The trail had led to Tatooine, to the graveyard of two ships, and…
"ashes… and a human skull… we fear the worst, Lord Sidious…"
He was still amazed at his own boldness, at the way he had quickly seized on the opportunity the instant it had presented itself to him. Being assigned with Tru Veld to follow the lead to Tatooine while Darra Thel-Tanis had gone to Naboo had been sheer luck. The same luck had made him be the one to find the crash site on Tatooine, that alien world with eddies in the Force equally repulsive and attractive. But it was his own genius that had cast the Force suggestion on Tru Veld, that had persuaded the weaker Jedi to turn away from a further probing for Skywalker. Veld had reported in person to the Emperor that there had been no sense of the Sith, that there was no hope and Ferus, across the holo-vid from Naboo where he had gone on to assist Darra Thel-Tanis, had collaborated the report.
The trick about lying to the Sith was not to lie at all. For all Ferus knew, Skywalker was dead. And if he hadn't been dead at the time he and Veld had been on Tatooine, he certainly was dead now. That was another painful truth that Ferus hated to admit: Skywalker was the most tenacious creature he knew. If Skywalker were still alive, he would have found his way back to the Imperial Centre by now.
Darra Thel-Tanis had been Ferus's first test. Her piercing eyes had found no lie in his words. When he had arrived on Coruscant and repeated Veld's account to the Emperor, he truly believed the words that he spoke and he knew from the look in Lord Sidious's eyes, that he had passed the final test.
It had been weeks since then and now the Imperial Palace – the entire Empire – waited with bated breath for the Emperor to announce the new Apprentice. Ferus Olin had every reason to believe that he would be called. Darra Thel-Tanis was not as ambitious. Tru Veld was not as skilled. The younger Hands were not worthy of competition.
Ferus paused before the doors to Vader's former chambers, and grinned at the metallic corpse that the cleaning droids had placed reverently against the wall.
"One of these days, I'm going to catch that pompous tin can on its own and when I do, the furnace of my chambers will burn a little warmer."
As it turned out, Vader's droid had not made very good fuel. But half the fun had been in trying.
/
Tendrils of Force kept the soft fruit afloat and Sidious watched it with an indulgent smile as it wobbled away from him. The expression on his face was in marked contrast to the deliberations within it as he traversed through the mundane corridors of Ferus Olin's mind.
Of course, the Hand was a fool to think that he had him fooled and it was out of sheer amusement more than anything that had kept Olin alive for this long. Yes, Sidious thought watching the fruit fall to the plate, to rise again in a trembling spiral, he could admit that for some time he had been … misled. But immediately after that had come the irrefutable confirmation that his apprentice was dead.
Olin would be punished for his arrogance and for his complicity and his punishment would be as painful as it was humiliating.
The indulgent smile on Sidious's face broadened. It was something to look forward to. In the meanwhile…
The fruit fell yet again and before the uncertain tug could reach for it again, he lifted a finger.
The fruit split neatly through its centre, two halves falling on theirs sides with their exposed insides glistening red and sweet. There was shocked little gasp.
With an elegant flick of his wrist, the fruit rose to the boy across the table and tentatively, Tenlo Jankerrie plucked it out of the air with his fingers. He bit into it gingerly, and then smiled shyly.
Sidious smiled back, resolving that next time the Naboo boy won't get anything to eat until he had mastered the simple levitation trick. The sooner he found a Teacher for his next Apprentice, the better.
/
Chandrila
It was a straightforward enough mission – a suspected Jedi raid on one of the Hyper-Chlorian Treatment Centers – and a couple of Hands were mostly back up to the local security forces. It was not a mission that Hands relished: none would admit it, but no Hand ever felt comfortable inside a Centre.
Darra Thel-Tanis watched Ferus Olin from the corner of her eye as he bullied a ranking officer, as always threading the edge of acceptable conduct by the Hands and shivered in revulsion.
She had no inclination to question the Emperor's commands but she could not help but wonder if he also shared her suspicions about Ferus Olin, about the reports he and Tru Veld made of their search for Vader. No doubt the Emperor knew that Darra would relish this particular assignment the way few other Hands would have.
Ferus swaggered back to her and she glanced at him idly, knowing that nothing in her form or face could reveal that in a few minutes' time she was about to inflict on him crippling bodily harm. She was more attuned to the Force that she had ever been – sensing everything from Ferus's obnoxiously loud aura to the slightly brighter auras of the local security forces. The Emperor's power was echoing loudly within her, louder than it ever had done before in any of the times he had sent her off on a mission like this. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the Sith Lord had no Apprentice now.
She thought of Vader and her face twisted in pain.
That she could not hide.
"What's wrong?" Ferus Olin hissed, his eyes shining maliciously. "Still in mourning for your dead idol?"
"Thinking of taking his place?" Darra hissed back.
He grinned. "Perhaps."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes in front of the local security force and contented herself with a small smirk. "You're a bigger fool than I imagined, Ferus. And believe you me, I imagined a lot."
His face contorted with rage – it was too easy! – and only at the last minute did he remember himself and look away.
Her smirk broadened and she fingered the heavy weapon on her belt, imagining how it would feel slicing through Ferus's back.
Such pleasant thoughts occupied her for a few more moments and then she felt the Force shift – rigid patterns of discipline interspersing with a wild lack of restraint. Her eyes were shifting to the security officers when the low hum of machinery turned her gaze to the white, cuboid transport with the serpentine emblem approaching the steps of the Treatment facility.
The inmates had arrived.
Darra watched with some interest as the passengers filed out. There were three white-robed Treatment staff, and they shepherded half a dozen children up the steps.
The children caught her attention. Ranging in ages from four to fourteen, they were already dressed in the grey uniforms they would wear until they graduated from the facility. Darra could sense varying degrees of apprehension, homesickness, and even some excitement. A few glanced at her curiously and she could almost hear the eager, hungry questions behind those bright eyes. Despite all the official propaganda, the rumors that the Treatment Centers were really Training facilities for the Imperial 'Elite' persisted.
Darra fought back a shudder. This place really gave her the creeps.
The children were nearer now. Eyes straight, she automatically shied from them even as their handlers broke them into lines to pass her. Olin was a few steps behind her and he did not budge. One child brushed by her by mistake and Darra felt her skin crawl. That sense of manic aura seemed to cling to her own Force-sense like muddy water.
A slight shriek made her glance back up. The child in front of the line had reached the front doors to the Centre and was apparently balking. It struggled against the firm hand of the Handler on its back, and refused to move on despite the Handler's best efforts. Its anxiety was infectious and the rest of the children were becoming restless. There were a few more shrieks.
A few of the local security started to break formation to help but they stopped with a steely glance from all three Hands. The last thing anyone needed was for ten untrained sensitive children to be antagonized further.
Where in the Emperor's Name were the rest of the Clinicians and their sedatives? Darra stared hard at the door, sensing something…
One of the children burst into loud, wet wailing. Others joined in.
With a curse, Darra dropped her hand from her belt and followed Ferus who was already moving towards the children.
"Now, calm down, you lot. There's no reason to get so excited," Ferus drawled, hands stretched out and touching two particularly hysterical children. Even before he finished speaking, their cries were already quieting down. Force suggestions was one of the few things he knew how to do well, Darra thought grudgingly. His hands were moving to another pair of children when Darra suddenly realized:
This was her chance.
Her hand was on her belt and the lightsabre hilt was in his lower spine before he had spoken two more words.
It would have been nice to seen his face before she did it, Darra thought, watching him fall forward on his feet, his weight pulling down one of the children he had reached for. In the Force, she felt him pass quickly into unconsciousness.
There was a moment of perfect silence when everyone else seemed to stare in shock at what was going on. Then the child underneath Ferus screamed and full-scale panic broke out around her.
Children were running, scattering down the steps, a few rushing for the doors and banging on them in panic. The local security-men were running haphazardly – some for the children, three towards her.
With the Emperor's power flowing within her, she felt the shift in energy, the sudden unsheathing of the three blades in less than the time it took to inhale a single breath. But even with Lord Sidious's power, there was nothing she could do to dodge all three weapons at the same time.
/
The timing was flawless. The last effects of the suppressant had faded at the exact moment that the Treatment van had arrived and the 'security officers' had been able to gradually prod the children into panic. An unmarked transport arrived just seconds after the last local security guard joined his mates and the three Clinicians on the floor in Forced slumber. The three Jedi, still wearing the black uniforms of Imperial security carefully carried the children (also in a Force-induced state of unconsciousness) into the waiting transport.
It was Bruck who drew their attention to the fact that the male Hand was still alive.
"Leave him to rot," Asajj said brutally.
Bruck rolled his eyes. "Was I the only one who noticed that the other Hand attacked him?"
"So? For all we know it's some kind of sick training session." She hesitated. "Maybe we should just kill him."
Xanatos held her wrist in the nick of time. "Before we take any rash decisions, I think we should take him to the Grandmaster."
Moments later, the Jedi left the Chandrila system with their bounty and their unexpected prize.
To be continued...