Chewie pointed to the burned pathways on the Shadow Chaser's removed
navicomputer core. Lowie's father also spoke up, and Eit Teedee said,
"Master Mahraccor asserts that this is an exciting new design, an
Imperial configuration he has never seen before. Fortunately, however,
he is confident that the facilities here on Kashyyyk can repair it quite
nicely.
The Tour Droid bent over on its long, stretched-out body. "You are quite
good at translating Wookiee speech, my colleague," it said, "but you
lack the finesse for being a true Tour Droid. You seem not to have the
ability to make interesting comparisons that customers can understand.
For instance, you might have said, 'With our facilities here we can
place this damaged core in one of our crystal baths, flush out the
impurities and the carbon scoring, and use our own master computers to
retrace the circuits and map the electronic pathways. In short, we will
provide a bacta tank to heal the computer core."' Em Teedee wasn't
impressed. "They certainly didn't need to hear all of that. Of course, I
wouldn't presume to tell you your job," he said. "We have more important
things to do." The Tour Droid did not respond to the insult, since he
had no doubt been given thorough programming in tactfulness.
"rmank you for the tour," Jaina said. "It was very interesting."
The Tour Droid stood up straighter, and the optical sensors mounted on
all sides of its boxy head brightened with pleasure. 'That is the finest
compliment you could have given me, Mistress Jaina Solo."
-----------------SURROUNDED BY DIMNESS in his private office, lit only
by recorded starlight from distant parts of the galaxy, Brakiss
contemplated the plans of the Second Imperium.
Time slipped away from him as he allowed himself to be swallowed up in
thoughts.
Possibilities for conquest engrossed him, and he ran them over and over
in his head, contemplating the complete destruction of the Rebels and
his former mentor, Luke Skywalker. Such imaginings soothed him. Resting
his elbows on the polished black desk, Brakiss touched his fingertips
together and smiled.
Suddenly, a startling signal destroyed his concentration like a
thunderbolt. The potent alarm pulsed again, and he used his muchneeded
Jedi skills to calm himself. 'This is Brakiss," he responded.
"Qorl here," a voice replied. An image appeared on the flatscreen
communicator built into his desk. The old TIE pilot seemed rattled-and
that surprised Brakiss even more than the alarm had. Qorl was one of the
steadiest officers in the Second Imperium.
'We have a coded message coming into the Shadow Academy, sir. It carries
the highest level of encryption. Every marking indicates that the
transmission is of the utmost importance. You must receive the message
yourself and respond personally."
Brakiss blinked. "Any indication of the sender's identity?" His thoughts
whirled.
Tamith Kai and Zekk had already departed on their mission to Kashyyyk,
but even they were incapable of sending such a high-level message.
'No indication, sir," Qorl said, "but I would recommend that you respond
without delay."
"I'm on my way," Brakiss said, and switched off, propelling himself out
of his chair in one fluid motion.
He raced through the curved metallic corridors, taking an automated lift
platform to the transmitting and receiving tower, which contained the
machinery that cast a cloaking field around the spike-ringed station.
Several stormtroopers stood alert as Brakiss swept into the transmitting
tower. Qorl worked at the receiving stations, scanning computer ized
readouts and recording the coded signal.
Brakiss noted that the man used his biological right hand, letting his
bulky robotic limb hang motionless at his side. Qorl blinked at the
Shadow Academy leader. "They have begun transmitting again, Lord
Brakiss," he said.
"All right, let's input the decryption routine." Standing beside Qorl,
Brakiss had to think for a moment to summon the correct string of
symbols and numbers, then keyed in his password so that the Shadow
Academy computers could translate the high-level coded message.
Qorl handed Brakiss a dangling headset.
'The message is for your ears only. Listen on this channel." Qorl helped
Brakiss mount the earphones and microphone snugly against his head.
Brakiss listened to the crackle of static as the convoluted message ran
through its codedeciphering algorithms and finally resolved itself into
coherent words. The voice pounded against his eardrums, harsh, almost
reptilian, dripping with evil.
Brakiss's eyes widened, and fear drove a spike through his mind. He
cleared his throat twice before he could respond. "Yes, my lord," he
finally answered. 'Yes, at once." He drew a deep breath to continue, but
the sender terminated the signal. Brakiss heard only static.
He stood rigid, using all of his Jedi strengths to keep himself from
trembling. Qorl waited beside him, leathery face emotionless, his eyes
unblinking. Only a slight furrow across the TIE pilot's forehead showed
how concerned he was.
Brakiss spoke quietly, looking at Qorl but knowing that the stormtrooper
guards were also listening intently. "The Emperor," he said hoarsely,
"the Emperor is coming here!"
An ominous transport shuttle dropped out of hyperspace in the vicinity
of the Shadow Academy. The shuttle was an Imperial design, the Emperor's
private escort ship, armored with tarnished hull plates. Its
configuration was similar to a triangular Lambda-class transport, except
that this craft bore very special weaponry, sensing devices, and
ultrapowerful hyperdrive engines. Even such extreme modifications,
though, were of little consequence when compared to the importance of
the passenger it carried.
Brakiss stood within the hangar bay, struggling to drive back his
anxiety. In all this time he had never met the Emperor face-to face,
despite his unwavering service to the Second Imperium.
The Great Leader of the Second Imperium, Emperor Palpatine, must somehow
have escaped death years earlier-though Brakiss had been sure the
Emperor had been destroyed . . . several times, in fact. He did not know
what secret Palpatine had used, or how he had managed to restore himself
to life, but Brakiss didiyt care-all that mattered was that the Second
Imperium was in the most capable hands imaginable.
The comm buzzed and Qorl's voice made an announcement. "Lord Brakiss,
the Emperor's private transport has just come out of hyperspace. I await
your orders."
Brakiss leaned closer to the wall speaker.
"Very well, drop the Shadow Academy's cloaking field and transmit our
greetings to Emperor Palpatine. We are honored by his visit." "Yes,
sir," Qorl said, signing off.
Brakiss could feel no difference, not even through the Force, as the
invisibility shield dissolved around the station. He stood with an honor
guard of stormtroopers in
side the cleared docking bay. The transparent
atmosphere containment field flickered.
Brakiss stared out into open space, watching the awesome craft approach.
The storm troopers stood more rigidly, their armor locking into place,
boots clicking together.
The Emperor's transport followed Qorl's signal. The three-bladed shuttle
glided through the atmosphere containment field, which flickered and
sparked as it folded around the hull of the ship. The Imperial transport
coasted to the center of the broad deck, then lowered itself to a stable
position.
Brakiss swallowed a large lump in his throat. He transmitted to Qorl.
"Reactivate the cloaking shield, please-we don't want to expose
ourselves any longer than necessary."
'It is done, sir," Qorl said.
The stormtroopers shouldered their weapons and stood in perfect ranks.
Brakiss stepped forward to offer greeting, but paused when nothing
happened. The Emperor's transport remained silent except for a few
hissing and ticking sounds as the ship settled. He saw no movement
inside. The hatch remained stubbornly shut. Brakiss waited for any sign.
Finally, a voice boomed from loudspeakers mounted outside the Emperor's
shuttle. "Attention, all Shadow Academy personnel! The Emperor has
arrived. As a security precaution, we insist that everyone depart the
docking bay immediately. The Emperor has a private escort of Imperial
guards and wishes no further contact at this time."
The announcement took Brakiss completely by surprise. When he noticed
that his mouth was hanging open in foolish astonishment, he closed it so
quickly that his teeth clicked together. The Emperor had come to the
Shadow Academy- and now Palpatine refused Brakiss's honor escort. The
Great Leader wanted to be left alone?
Brakiss realized that he had hesitated in following Palpatine's
instructions. Aghast and trying to make up for lost time, he turned and
clapped his hands smartly. "You heard the orders! Everyone, about-face.
Clear the docking bay. The Emperor wishes his privacy."
The storrntroopers turned and, with a booming clatter on the metal deck,
marched out of the docking bay and into the curved corridors.
"Sir," one of the stormtroopers said, breaking ranks to stop in front of
Brakiss, "I had requested to be part of the Emperor's personal escort
squad. I'll stay here to greet him as he disembarks."
Brakiss blinked in shock, noting the stormtrooper's service number. He
recognized Qorl's trainee, Norys. Qorl had said the burly young man was
ambitious and ill-tempered, but Brakiss was nonetheless stunned at the
i-inpertinence.
"You will follow my orders, trooper," Brakiss snapped. "The Second
Impeiium has no room for those who don't understand discipline." He drew
in a cold breath. "If I see any further instance of your failure to obey
commands, you will be ejected from the airlock into space. Is that
understood?"
As Norys clomped off without acknowledging Brakiss's rebuff, the master
of the Shadow Academy turned to look back at the silent Imperial
shuttle. He himself was unable to comprehend why the Emperor had come
here if he had no intention of interacting with the Shadow Academy, or
at least meeting with Brakiss personally.
However, the Emperor was the ultimate master, and Brakiss would not dare
question Palpatine's orders.
The last one to leave the docking bay, he turned with a swirl of his
silvery robes and stepped outside before transmitting the signal that
closed and sealed the doors to the docking bay.
As he stood in the outer corridor, though, Brakiss made a decision of
his own. He was master of this station-and was required to know what
happened aboard it, wasn't he?
He had followed the Emperor's wishes to the letter, but now he needed to
see what was going on. Brakiss went to a videomonitor designed for
observation of docking and loading procedures.
With the docking bay emptied of stormtroopers and Shadow Academy
representatives, the hatches finally opened on the Emperor's shuttle. On
the monitor Brakiss was impressed to see four Imperial guards stride
out, shrouded in scarlet robes. The intimidating red guards had been the
most feared elite corps of Palpatine's forces, and now four -of them had
accompanied the Emperor here.
Smooth red armor covered their heads and shoulders like cowls, reminding
him of historical images he had seen of ancient Mandalorian uniforms.
The red Imperial guards moved away from the ship and took up defensive
positions, their robes flowing like flames around them.
A shudder ran down Brakiss's spine. He tried to feel the intense dark
force crackling from the core of the Imperial transport ship. The
Emperor, he knew, must be in there somewhere.
Through the voice pickup mounted in the docking bay, Brakiss heard a
clanking, slamming sound. Two pairs of squat, powerful workerdroids
tromped down the wide extendedramp, carrying an enormously heavy
isolation chamber. The worker droids, little more than the powerful arms
and legs mounted on a stocky body core, hauled their burden without
complaint.
The droids were gentle with their cargo, moving smoothly, carefully,
despite the immense power in their hydraulic limbs. They carried the
huge tank off the Imperial ship and into the docking bay. Side panels on
the isolation chamber's black riveted walls blinked with multicolored
lights; computer displays showed life monitors and external
communications.
The four red guards surrounded the chamber, looking protective and
menacing. Then they marched toward the broad doors-two in front of the
chamber, two behind-into the main core of the Shadow Academy.
Brakiss hurried to open the doors for them, but somehow the
computer-locked seals were automatically broken before he could do so.
The doors slammed open, as if controlled by the Emperor's dark side
powers.
The red guards strode forward, still surrounding the worker droids. The
huge isolation tank hissed and buzzed and bleeped as a thousand
electronic systems monitored its supremely important occupant.
Brakiss stopped in front of the foremost pair of Imperial guards.
"Greetings. I am Master Brakiss of the Shadow Academy."
The leader of the red guards turned his armored head, and Brakiss felt a
cold scrutiny through the black eyeslit. "You will leave us alone. We
have important work, and we require privacy. You may guide us to our
chambers-and then leave."
Brakiss could barely contain his dismay.
"But . . . I am the Master of the Shadow Academy."
The red guard said, "And the Emperor is the master of the galaxy. He
wishes privacy for now. We suggest that you do not displease him."
Brakiss backed away, bowing quickly. "I have no wish to displease the
Emperor. Forgive my impudence."
After Brakiss indicated the quarters to which the visitors had been
assigned-the plushest and most spacious accommodations aboard the
station-the red guards and worker droids marched into the ch
ambers,
leaving Brakiss alone out in the corridor.
He felt belittled, insignificant, stepped on, as if all of his
accomplishments and work meant nothing to the Emperor. It baffled him.
What could be the purpose of it? He frowned as thoughts whirled inside
his head.
The Emperor had originally died in the destruction of the second Death
Star, but six years after his defeat, Palpatine had been resurrected in
a series of clones, which had also-presumably-been destroyed.
Now, after observing the isolation tank, the secrecy, the inexplicable
behavior of the four Imperial guards, Brakiss felt a new and deeper fear
coil through his body. He wondered if something could be wrong, if the
Emperor could perhaps be in failing health again. . . .
If that was the case, the Second Imperium was indeed in great trouble.
-----------------AS A FORMER TIE pilot, Qorl had been trained in the
Imperial way, with loyalties and duties and responses drilled into him.
No questions, only orders. His mind had been programmed to turn him into
a perfect fighting machine for the Empire.
The cornerstone of that training had been discipline. And one thing Qorl
knew: the young man who stood before him was not disciplined.
He wondered if perhaps Brakiss and Tamith Kai had been too hasty in
accepting Norys and his band of young ruffians from Coruscant to be
trained as stormtroopers and pilots. nine, the battles ahead to