So what was bothering him? Vader turned to survey the government buildings that rose out of the petaled extensions of land that the Sathans had constructed in an aquamarine sea. He knew what was bothering him, he just didn't want to name it.

Ferus Olin.

Reporting directly to the Emperor.

Why hadn't Olin left after restoring Platform-7? He'd been given amnesty. He could have taken off. Yet he'd stayed. And when the Emperor had arrived, he had singled Olin out.

Darth Vader wasn't about to succ.u.mb to petty jealousy. Those emotions were gone forever, as foreign to him as love. He had felt love once. He had failed at it. So he had turned his mind and his power to other things. What remained had distilled down to a pureness he relished. Duty. A job to fulfill. Power to grab and consolidate and protect, and a Master to serve.

It was like this body armor he wore, this life-sustaining suit. In the beginning, he'd felt trapped by it. But he'd learned to use it for both intimidation and isolation. It allowed him to feel separate from all the beings around him, and that turned out to be very useful.

Do you see me now, Obi-Wan? I'm not connecting to the Living Force. I am looking at it from a distance. It can't touch me now.

You were wrong, my old Master. I don't need to connect to it. I just need to control it.

Vader turned away from the sight of the sea. He pushed away the thought of his former Master, as he always did. Thoughts and memories of the past came less frequently now.

Until Ferus Olin had shown up.

Jealousy wasn't an option for him anymore, but a.n.a.lysis was. He was adept at manipulation, at figuring out motives, of thinking ten steps ahead of anyone else. But Olin . . . he couldn't figure him out. If he was a double agent, he was a fool. He wasn't going to learn anything. He wasn't going to make a difference.

Could he truly be half fascinated by the power he saw? Could he be turned to the dark side? That's what his Master thought. That could be the only reason his Master was taking an interest.

Could his Master be right? The dark side could be seductive for a Jedi. Vader knew that.

If it were so, he would have to take steps to eliminate Ferus Olin here, now. He couldn't allow Ferus Olin to flourish in the Empire. It wasn't ambition talking - Vader left ambition to fools like the captain of the battalion here - it was efficiency. He couldn't do his job if Olin were around, trying to replace him. It would just be tiresome. And annoying.

He activated the comlink to access the security guard at the main entrance of the Imperial headquarters. They'd taken over a bloc of government offices near the Hall of Ministers. "Has Ferus Olin returned?" he asked.

"Just a few minutes ago, Lord Vader."

"Send him to me."

Ferus appeared in less than a minute. Vader was surprised he didn't make him wait, just to show him that he could. But then again, Ferus didn't play those tiresome games that Bog Divinian relished.

"You wanted to see me, chief?"

Vader despised his flippancy. So unlike the way he'd been when they'd been Padawans together. One day Olin would find himself at the end of a light-saber. Vader was looking forward to that moment.

"I want a report on the resistance."

Ferus frowned. "I guess you forgot - I don't report to you. It's okay, I know you've got a lot on your mind - all that resistance to crush. If that's all, I'll -"

"I am not interested in whatever the Emperor asked you to do. Give me the report."

Ferus lounged against the wall and crossed his arms. "You know that you're the big mystery among the Emperor's staff. Everyone wants to know who you are. Where you came from. How did you get involved with the Emperor? One day you weren't there. The next day you were."

Vader found it extremely vexing that Ferus wasn't afraid of him. He was used to feeling fear from those who were in his presence. Once, he had felt it from Ferus Olin. Olin had tumbled out from his hiding place in the Temple, looked up at Vader, and he'd almost laughed at the fear coming off him in waves. Olin had taken off like a frightened womp rat. Vader could have - should have - killed him then. But he'd let him go. He was more interested in embarra.s.sing Malorum, the Inquisitor, than killing Olin. Let Malorum try to handle the intruder. He hadn't expected that with all those prowler droids and stormtroopers at his disposal, Malorum would be incompetent enough to fail.

Now Ferus Olin had the protection of the Emperor. He couldn't touch him. Yet.

Extremely trying.

He could so easily use the dark side of the Force, send Ferus's body flying through the air and slam it hard against the wall. Watch Olin break. But he couldn't. Palpatine had told him to keep his hands off.

"Not sharing today? Oh well. Maybe when we get to know each other a little better."

"I know you," Darth Vader said.

He said the words contemptuously, but Ferus picked up something behind his tone.

"You know me?"

Vader never second-guessed himself now. He so rarely made a mistake. He had reacted to the Ferus Olin he'd known. The obtuse, thick-headed, pompous Padawan. He had to remind himself that Olin must have changed. Ferus was quicker now, smarter.

Vader turned away. "I know what you are. I know what you want. You are transparent. Go."

He was surprised when Ferus didn't come back with a quip. He just went away.

I know you.

Why did those words freeze him in his tracks?

Ferus thought back on the way Vader had spoken. There was no special emphasis in his tone; it was the same deep, expressionless disembodied voice that issued from a breath mask.

Or was it? What was it that he'd caught? An emotion, a feeling, a taunt?

Something.

And whatever it was, it had struck the same chord in Ferus.

I know you.

He knew Vader, too.

He stopped in the hallway, stockstill with the shock of it. It washed over him, the possibility - and along with that, the searing knowledge of his own stupidity.

He had a.s.sumed Vader had sprung up from nowhere because Palpatine had wanted it that way. He had a.s.sumed that Vader had been like Darth Maul, an apprentice trained and kept concealed until he was needed.

He had never considered the possibility that Vader hadn't been concealed.

That Vader had, instead, been turned.

That Vader could be - incredibly, tragically, unbelievably - a former Jedi.

I know you.

Could it be? Ferus turned and looked back at Vader's closed door. His eyes burned. He had known so many Jedi, crossed paths with so many. Hundreds. And he was known to many. He had been Siri Tachi's apprentice, and all Jedi knew Siri Tachi.

He stared at the closed door, wondering at the presence behind it.

Who are you?

Chapter Nine.

Trever used his liquid cable as a lifeline. He made it to the top of the crystal formation - barely. What he wouldn't give for a little Force ability, a little boost to his jumps. Because at this rate, he wasn't getting away from these guys, and the chase had been going on for far too long.

At least they aren't shooting at me.

Suddenly, a large hunk of crystal next to him fused into white heat and disappeared.

Uh, scratch that.

Trever ducked arid jumped onto the next formation. He had about three more jumps until he ran out of formations and into thin air. Now the crystals he'd admired from the air turned into sharp needle-like edges that sc.r.a.ped his palms and knees and made it impossible for him to get firm footing.

Far below he saw the mystery speeder close to the crystal forest floor, zigzagging through formations while the Imperial speeder tried to keep up. As he watched, the Imperial speeder lost control of a tight turn and slammed into a rough crystal mountain. The speeder skidded along the ground, spun around, and came to a stop.

Trever leaped to the next formation, avoiding the blaster fire that pinged and blasted through the branch where he'd been standing just a moment before.

The other Imperial speeder made a tight turn and came back at him. He leaped again.

He was now officially out of room. He could use his liquid cable again, but there was nowhere to go.

Then he saw the mystery speeder zoom upward. It maneuvered directly below him. The c.o.c.kpit canopy slid back.

It was a very long drop.

He leaped.

He landed awkwardly, one leg out of the speeder, but the pilot made a hard starboard turn with one hand and yanked him inside with the other, stabbed at the canopy control, and went into a screeching dive, all while Trever was trying to catch his breath.

"Try to hang on." The voice came from inside the helmet. He couldn't see the driver's face. The fingers on the controls were delicate and soft-looking, but within ten seconds Trever realized he was in the hands of an amazing pilot.

The speeder was pushed to maximum as they screamed around formations, squeezed through branchlike forms, zoomed up and back down into canyons. It was like being in one of the Podraces Ferus had told him about, the highly illegal ones that were held on Outer Rim planets.

They lost the pursuing Imperial airspeeder. The pilot slowed down, and Trever told his tripping heart to slow down, too.

"That was one galactic ride," he said, nearly out of breath.

The pilot headed into a deep, narrow canyon and snaked the vehicle around the trunk formations of crystals. Trever saw a sleek ship with a red body and a chromium hull pulled up under an overhang. They stopped there.

He got out, his legs still shaky. The pilot leaped off the speeder and removed the helmet, shaking out shoulder-length dark hair. She was a pet.i.te human woman of middle years, with piercing green eyes that matched the crystals around them.

"You're Flame, aren't you?" Trever asked.

"Who wants to know?"

"Your contact," Trever said. "Toma sent me."

Her gaze ticked up and down, from his boots to the top of his head. "Aren't you a little young?"

Annoyed, Trever ignored the comment. "I'm Trever Flume. I started in the resistance on Bella.s.sa."

She popped a water canister and took a swallow, tossing another one to him. "How'd you hook up with Toma?"

"We share the same hideout. I've got an Imperial death mark on my head." Trever tried not to sound like he was boasting, just stating a fact. He wanted this woman to know that he was someone to be reckoned with. "I've been traveling with Ferus Olin."

She looked interested for the first time. "I've been trying to find Ferus Olin. He was a hero of the resistance on Bella.s.sa. Then he disappeared."

"Toma said you're trying to network the resistance movements in the Core Worlds."

"It's a start. We're not going to get anywhere if we're not organized." Flame sat astride a crystal formation that formed a sort of bench. "I've learned one thing in my life - great wealth makes things happen. If we can fund resistance movements through one central organization, we can make progress. All it takes is wealth. Wealth creates opportunity. Simple."

"Toma said you were one of the wealthiest citizens on Acherin."

She smiled. "I was loaded. Now I've got quite a bit stashed here and there, and I'm looking for more investors. It's not only freedom fighters who hate the Empire. There are some very rich businesspeople who fear their businesses being taken over. You can't sell goods in a galaxy ruled by fear."

"So are you in this for justice, or so you can create more wealth for yourself and your friends?" Trever asked.

"What's the matter with both? I'm a realist, not a dreamer. Most beings aren't idealists. Most want to know what's in it for them."

"You're speaking my language," Trever said admiringly.

"So, can you hook me up with Ferus Olin?"

"That's why I'm here. Torna thought we might be able to help each other."

She tossed the empty water canister into the speeder. "What's his deal? What's he trying to do?"

Trever wasn't about to spill the beans on the secret Jedi base. "Since I've been with him, he's been basically trying to escape from Imperial jails," he said. "You'll have to ask him that question."

"I have another mission here," Flame said. "I've got an idea that can help the resistance. What makes Samaria unique? And I don't mean this place," she said, waving a hand at the crystal formations around her. "Personal droids. Everyone has them -including the Imperial advisor. They gave him one to thank him for saving the city."

"He didn't save the city," Trever said. "He just took the credit."

"Doesn't matter. If he's got a personal droid, that means it's tracked his every move for the past two days. Listened in on every conversation. If we could get our hands on that droid. . . ."

"We might learn something."

"And it will be a way to show the resistance that I mean business. Stealing it won't be easy, though."

Trever grinned. "It will be for me."