Read Online Star Wars: The Last of the Jedi, Volume 4 by Jude Watson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jude Watson
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waste my time with denials.”
The man swallowed. He quickly consulted a hand-crafted ledger. “Winama Naberrie. Ryoo Thule.”
“Give me their addresses.”
“Winama Naberrie, alas and sadly, died before the Battle of Naboo.”
“Then the other one!” Malorum roared at the man. He didn’t like to lose his temper—he felt a loss of control was always a mistake, but he’d been provoked by hours
of evasions. And it could be effective.
To his surprise, the man stood his ground. “Ah, well, I don’t have that information per se, you see. This is the office of the Essentials Provider—”
Malorum had had enough of this. Always it was the same. The person would tell him he really didn’t have the ability to help him while maintaining an expression of deep concern, then repeat
his title or the name of the agency, and Malorum would be led round and round in a helpful, polite way that got him nowhere.
He put his blaster next to the man’s cheek. “Do you see this?” No more yelling now. Just a quiet voice that held menace.
The man’s expression turned to fear. “Yes.”
Slowly he rotated the blaster until the barrel was pointing toward the outer office. “I am going to take this blaster and shoot everyone in this office in front of your eyes if you
don’t give me the information.”
The man looked up at him. Incredulity turned to horror as he realized that Malorum was perfectly capable of doing it.
He bowed his head. “Ryoo Thule now lives in the lake district of Naboo in the family villa called Varykino. In Translucence Cove.”
“That isn’t much of an address.” Malorum gave the blaster an extra push against his cheek.
The man raised his head. Something flashed there, some defiance that Malorum decided he didn’t have time to smash. Naboo would come to understand, as all worlds would, who was in
charge.
“That is the way we do things on Naboo. It is the only direction I can give you.”
Malorum wanted to shoot him, but he stormed out instead.
He had what he needed. It was tedious to have to do his own investigating, but he couldn’t trust anyone else. He had to dig and dig until he had what he wanted. He knew the lake district
was remote; he’d need local transport. All to see an old woman who might hold the key to something he still didn’t understand.
Solace and the others landed their ships on an entry platform on the outskirts of Theed. They knew the Imperials were monitoring the hangar. Clive was familiar with Theed and
led them through the streets.
“The people of Naboo are no fans of the Empire,” Clive told them. “They’ll keep their mouths shut. Just follow me. I know Theed well.”
“I don’t need a tour of cantinas,” Ferus told him suspiciously.
Clive laughed. “I can show you those, too, mate. But let’s start with some contacts. I know a former captain in the army who can help us—Gregar Typho.”
“I know him,” Keets said. “I interviewed him a couple of times. Senator Amidala trusted him.”
“Lead on,” Ferus said.
Captain Typho was in an office off one of the wide boulevards of Theed. He rose from his desk a bit awkwardly, in the way of an active man who was unused to office work. He had a small eye patch
over one eye and was wearing a uniform over his powerful build. He remembered Keets well and greeted Clive warmly.
“I heard you were in prison,” he said.
“I wasn’t crazy about the accommodations. This is my friend, Ferus Olin. We’re all here to help locate an Inquisitor named Malorum.”
Captain Typho nodded. “We know he’s here. We’ve been tracking his movements. He began at the Imperial battalion offices—we know they’re setting up a spy network
here. We’re keeping them under surveillance even as they spy on us. They’ve taken over a government building next to the hangar. Despite the laws of Naboo, which forbid it, we suspect
they are secretly stocking weapons and explosives there.”
Curran Caladian frowned.
The man swallowed. He quickly consulted a hand-crafted ledger. “Winama Naberrie. Ryoo Thule.”
“Give me their addresses.”
“Winama Naberrie, alas and sadly, died before the Battle of Naboo.”
“Then the other one!” Malorum roared at the man. He didn’t like to lose his temper—he felt a loss of control was always a mistake, but he’d been provoked by hours
of evasions. And it could be effective.
To his surprise, the man stood his ground. “Ah, well, I don’t have that information per se, you see. This is the office of the Essentials Provider—”
Malorum had had enough of this. Always it was the same. The person would tell him he really didn’t have the ability to help him while maintaining an expression of deep concern, then repeat
his title or the name of the agency, and Malorum would be led round and round in a helpful, polite way that got him nowhere.
He put his blaster next to the man’s cheek. “Do you see this?” No more yelling now. Just a quiet voice that held menace.
The man’s expression turned to fear. “Yes.”
Slowly he rotated the blaster until the barrel was pointing toward the outer office. “I am going to take this blaster and shoot everyone in this office in front of your eyes if you
don’t give me the information.”
The man looked up at him. Incredulity turned to horror as he realized that Malorum was perfectly capable of doing it.
He bowed his head. “Ryoo Thule now lives in the lake district of Naboo in the family villa called Varykino. In Translucence Cove.”
“That isn’t much of an address.” Malorum gave the blaster an extra push against his cheek.
The man raised his head. Something flashed there, some defiance that Malorum decided he didn’t have time to smash. Naboo would come to understand, as all worlds would, who was in
charge.
“That is the way we do things on Naboo. It is the only direction I can give you.”
Malorum wanted to shoot him, but he stormed out instead.
He had what he needed. It was tedious to have to do his own investigating, but he couldn’t trust anyone else. He had to dig and dig until he had what he wanted. He knew the lake district
was remote; he’d need local transport. All to see an old woman who might hold the key to something he still didn’t understand.
Solace and the others landed their ships on an entry platform on the outskirts of Theed. They knew the Imperials were monitoring the hangar. Clive was familiar with Theed and
led them through the streets.
“The people of Naboo are no fans of the Empire,” Clive told them. “They’ll keep their mouths shut. Just follow me. I know Theed well.”
“I don’t need a tour of cantinas,” Ferus told him suspiciously.
Clive laughed. “I can show you those, too, mate. But let’s start with some contacts. I know a former captain in the army who can help us—Gregar Typho.”
“I know him,” Keets said. “I interviewed him a couple of times. Senator Amidala trusted him.”
“Lead on,” Ferus said.
Captain Typho was in an office off one of the wide boulevards of Theed. He rose from his desk a bit awkwardly, in the way of an active man who was unused to office work. He had a small eye patch
over one eye and was wearing a uniform over his powerful build. He remembered Keets well and greeted Clive warmly.
“I heard you were in prison,” he said.
“I wasn’t crazy about the accommodations. This is my friend, Ferus Olin. We’re all here to help locate an Inquisitor named Malorum.”
Captain Typho nodded. “We know he’s here. We’ve been tracking his movements. He began at the Imperial battalion offices—we know they’re setting up a spy network
here. We’re keeping them under surveillance even as they spy on us. They’ve taken over a government building next to the hangar. Despite the laws of Naboo, which forbid it, we suspect
they are secretly stocking weapons and explosives there.”
Curran Caladian frowned.
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