Read Online Star Wars: The Last of the Jedi, Volume 4 by Jude Watson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jude Watson
Ads: Link
was actually in charge. They had completely taken over one of the gracious domed government buildings in Theed, right next to the vast hangar. It was a
smart choice. They could monitor all official comings and goings, and also use the hangar to store explosive devices should the people rebel. Strictly against Senate rules, of course, but who would
ever know?
Malorum thought that the citizens of Theed would have learned something from the Trade Federation blockade years ago. They’d discovered just how vulnerable they were. The fact that they
had won that particular skirmish had been mere luck. If the Emperor had been in control they would have been cowed and defeated.
Naboo was completely reliant on the rest of the galaxy for its industrial materials. They had no factories to speak of. If Malorum had been in charge, Naboo would have attacked surrounding
worlds that were rich in minerals and industry. But no—they just kept on making their clay pots and their paintings and their clothes and stupidly left themselves vulnerable.
Malorum walked by the Imperial garrison, hoping the sight of it would give him fresh energy. He had visited the place where Senator Amidala’s body was prepared for burial. He received no
new information…except a crash course he didn’t need in the funeral rites of the Naboo. Apparently the grandmothers were designated as the ones who dressed the body and prepared it for
the “last journey.”
The fact of Padmé’s death was recorded…but that was all. There was no hint of how she’d died, nothing for him to go on. Naboo customs precluded any questions about the
possible father of her child; the family was given privacy. There was no doctor’s report.
Malorum’s steps slowed. How stupid. Of course, if the records did not show him what he wanted, he must go to the source. Padmé Amidala’s grandmothers.
One problem was that the Naboo did not have a world directory. Citizens did not have to register with the government, something he knew that the Emperor would change as soon as he got around to
it. Privacy was prized here. In addition, everybody seemed to know everybody else, through a network of clans and families. If you had to ask for an address, it was proof that you didn’t know
the person well enough to contact them.
A small problem. Not an insurmountable one.
Malorum crossed to the building that housed the Naboo Essentials Provider, a typically gentle name for the office that controlled the power grid. He paused just inside the door to examine a
large holomap on the wall, a graphic image of the main power generator. He noted the corridors lined with electron gates, the catwalks, the bridges to dozens of levels, the deep central core.
Impressive. The Naboo did have some technical expertise after all. This would be an excellent world to exploit.
He strode into the main office and demanded to see the manager. In the usual display of polite evasion he was told that the office was about to close, but if he’d come back
tomorrow…
“I am a personal representative of Emperor Palpatine. Get him for me now,” Malorum snapped. He couldn’t wait to squeeze the information out of these maddening people like pulp
from a muja fruit.
The clerk rushed into an inner office, ornate robes flowing. Malorum had been waiting, hoping for this. He strode after him. He pushed through the door, almost knocking the man to the floor.
The manager stood up from his desk, his mouth gaping. He was older, his graying hair standing out in tufts over his ears. He had a kind face and gentle eyes. Malorum despised him
immediately.
“I am looking for the addresses of the grandmothers of the former Senator Padmé Amidala.”
“Senator Amidala, alas and sadly, is deceased.”
“I am of course aware of that.” Malorum slammed his hand down. “This
desk
is aware of that! I am the eyes and ears of the Emperor himself. Tell me the names of her
grandmothers. I know you know them so don’t
smart choice. They could monitor all official comings and goings, and also use the hangar to store explosive devices should the people rebel. Strictly against Senate rules, of course, but who would
ever know?
Malorum thought that the citizens of Theed would have learned something from the Trade Federation blockade years ago. They’d discovered just how vulnerable they were. The fact that they
had won that particular skirmish had been mere luck. If the Emperor had been in control they would have been cowed and defeated.
Naboo was completely reliant on the rest of the galaxy for its industrial materials. They had no factories to speak of. If Malorum had been in charge, Naboo would have attacked surrounding
worlds that were rich in minerals and industry. But no—they just kept on making their clay pots and their paintings and their clothes and stupidly left themselves vulnerable.
Malorum walked by the Imperial garrison, hoping the sight of it would give him fresh energy. He had visited the place where Senator Amidala’s body was prepared for burial. He received no
new information…except a crash course he didn’t need in the funeral rites of the Naboo. Apparently the grandmothers were designated as the ones who dressed the body and prepared it for
the “last journey.”
The fact of Padmé’s death was recorded…but that was all. There was no hint of how she’d died, nothing for him to go on. Naboo customs precluded any questions about the
possible father of her child; the family was given privacy. There was no doctor’s report.
Malorum’s steps slowed. How stupid. Of course, if the records did not show him what he wanted, he must go to the source. Padmé Amidala’s grandmothers.
One problem was that the Naboo did not have a world directory. Citizens did not have to register with the government, something he knew that the Emperor would change as soon as he got around to
it. Privacy was prized here. In addition, everybody seemed to know everybody else, through a network of clans and families. If you had to ask for an address, it was proof that you didn’t know
the person well enough to contact them.
A small problem. Not an insurmountable one.
Malorum crossed to the building that housed the Naboo Essentials Provider, a typically gentle name for the office that controlled the power grid. He paused just inside the door to examine a
large holomap on the wall, a graphic image of the main power generator. He noted the corridors lined with electron gates, the catwalks, the bridges to dozens of levels, the deep central core.
Impressive. The Naboo did have some technical expertise after all. This would be an excellent world to exploit.
He strode into the main office and demanded to see the manager. In the usual display of polite evasion he was told that the office was about to close, but if he’d come back
tomorrow…
“I am a personal representative of Emperor Palpatine. Get him for me now,” Malorum snapped. He couldn’t wait to squeeze the information out of these maddening people like pulp
from a muja fruit.
The clerk rushed into an inner office, ornate robes flowing. Malorum had been waiting, hoping for this. He strode after him. He pushed through the door, almost knocking the man to the floor.
The manager stood up from his desk, his mouth gaping. He was older, his graying hair standing out in tufts over his ears. He had a kind face and gentle eyes. Malorum despised him
immediately.
“I am looking for the addresses of the grandmothers of the former Senator Padmé Amidala.”
“Senator Amidala, alas and sadly, is deceased.”
“I am of course aware of that.” Malorum slammed his hand down. “This
desk
is aware of that! I am the eyes and ears of the Emperor himself. Tell me the names of her
grandmothers. I know you know them so don’t
Similar Books
