Star Wars: The Last of the Jedi, Volume 9 (15 page)

To this, Ferus had no answer. The Holocron burned inside his tunic and he knew what the voice would say.

It is foolish not to destroy your enemies. Foolish and cowardly.

But Ferus looked with his heart at Bail and Breha, and thought they were among the bravest people he’d ever known.

There was too much heartbreak in the galaxy now. Too many families broken, too many friends torn apart.

What would it be like to never feel heartbreak again? What if you could conquer grief, tamp it down, and never feel the searing heat of it again?

You can.

Ferus felt the heat of the Holocron next to his chest. Suddenly his breath was short. Perspiration broke out all over his body.

All of that, and more, can be yours as easily as saying one word.

Yes.

Bail and Ferus waited at the spaceport. It was what they had expected, but it was still a terrifying sight to see the inner atmosphere thick with Imperial craft. The
Governor’s star cruiser was flanked with Imperial fighters.

“I hate this,” Bail said, his teeth set.

“Are the reporters in place?” Ferus asked.

Bail nodded. “The Shadow Net will have a simultaneous broadcast of the arrival,” he said. “The news will be all over the Core.”

“They’ll take their time landing for maximum effect,” Ferus said. Then he slipped away; it would not benefit either of them for him and Bail to be seen together.

The first ship to land was a transport ship. The storm-troopers poured out, their weapons held high. They lined up in long rows, sunlight glinting on the white plastoid.

All traffic had been halted for the arrival. The Alderaanians at the spaceport were crowded behind the bristling weapons of the stormtroopers.

The Imperial Governor’s star cruiser landed.

The ramp descended. Another squad of stormtroopers came trotting down, their weapons extended as if expecting to meet a battle.

They were followed by a small man in a purple cape—the Imperial Governor. Next to him was Emperor Palaptine. A shudder went through the crowd. From a distance, Ferus could see Bail
stiffen. They hadn’t expected to see Palpatine himself.

“People of Alderaan,” the Governor called out, his voice loud, reaching every person at the spaceport. “We come in peace. We are here to protect you. Word has reached our ears
that you are prepared to fight. We do not wish a confrontation. The Empire is about peace.”

Bail stepped forward. “The galaxy knows that Alderaan is peaceful. We have no weapons.”

The Emperor signaled to his elite Red Guards. “We shall see.”

The procession moved to the open-air market below. Customers and vendors ran as the stormtroopers methodically overturned stalls and bins full of items. Fruit was trampled underfoot. The ground
was soon stained red from berries.

The stormtroopers uncovered the durasteel bins.

“Open them,” the Governor commanded.

The stormtroopers opened every bin in the market. They were filled with tools. Handmade clothes. Fabric. Kitchen items. The stuff of everyday living, nothing more.

The vendors had worked all night to get the weapons out. Raymus Antilles had loaded them aboard his cruiser secretly and took off. Once again, there were no weapons on Alderaan.

The Imperial Governor stood by the Emperor’s side, surrounded by hundreds of troops. The market was wrecked. The people stood, watching. Not afraid, Ferus saw. Smiling.

It was the sight of the Emperor surrounded by ruined fruit, by squads of stormtroopers facing off against a threat that consisted of children and ordinary citizens out with their shopping
baskets. It was the sight of the Imperial Governor, so slight and small, with his ornate purple cape and bodyguards with raised rifles around him. On Alderaan, the sight did not make sense.

A slow rumble began in the crowd. It started with barely concealed smiles, then erupted into titters and laughter.

The Imperial Governor looked up at the Emperor nervously. The stormtroopers looked for an order.

“Disperse!” the Governor rasped. “Back to the transports!”

Ferus smiled. So did the Emperor.

He felt the wind stir his cheek. Darth Vader was suddenly beside him.

“I see this amuses you,” he said.

“All of this effort for one little Governor,” Ferus said. “Why the show of force? There’s no resistance on Alderaan.”

“Resistance is everywhere,” Vader said. “It is up to us to decide when and where to crush it. You gave these people a hollow victory.”

“I had nothing to do with it.”

“So you say. Their defeat will come. This humiliation will not be forgotten. The Empire chooses its time. Yesterday on Coruscant we became tired of observing a resistance cell right under
our noses. So we crushed it.”

“Good for you,” Ferus said, but his anxiety ticked inside him.

“Thugger’s Alley, in the Orange District,” Vader continued. “You might have known the one in charge—he had been friendly with the Jedi. Dexter Jettster, his name
was.”

“Was?”

“His hideout was destroyed. Everyone inside was killed.”

Shock and grief tore through him. But now was not the time. It was time to hit Vader back. “When I mentioned Mustafar to you the other day, I fear I upset you.”

The Dark Lord must have been prepared for him to bring it up. He didn’t give off any ripple of concern. “Save your fears for
yourself
,” he said instead.

It happened instantaneously. Ferus felt as though the top of his head had blown off. It was immediate and visceral. Every clue clicked into place, every suspicion, every nagging sense that he
was missing something important.

They had stood outside the council room together.

“I’m afraid for you. You think admitting you were wrong opens you up to attack,” Ferus had said. He still felt shell-shocked and strange from his conference with the Jedi
Masters. He still couldn’t believe that he had just resigned from the Jedi Order.

Anakin’s lip had curled. “I think you should save your fears for yourself.”

Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker.

He didn’t know
how
he knew it, but he knew it.

Reeling, Ferus stood next to Vader as the Emperor approached them. Clouds had rolled in like a great gray carpet; a storm was brewing. The thickness of the air and the coming storm seemed to
give a hard charge to the atmosphere.

Ferus felt the blast of the Emperor’s fury, though he remained calm. Palpatine came straight to Vader.

“A trap,” he said. He looked over at the people, who were now turning away, and added in a terrifying whisper, “I could kill them all, if I
wanted
.”

“There is nothing stopping you, Master,” Vader said.

“You should
remember
that we are being monitored. Someday, yes. Not now.”

Darth Vader said nothing. Ferus began to enjoy himself. He’d never been present while Vader was rebuked by his Master.

Anakin had always hated being chided in public.

Anakin had always wanted to be the best.

Use it. Use what you know. Bring him down. He is half of what he was.

As if the Emperor had heard the voice as well, he turned to Ferus. The heat left his voice. “But you have done your job
well
,” he said.

Ferus felt Vader’s frustration build. If Vader unleashed it, Ferus wondered if he could tear the spaceport apart.

The Emperor smiled.

“It is time for you to take a second-in-command,
Lord Vader
,” he said, chuckling. “And I think Ferus Olin is perfect for the job.”