"The New Rebellion (Kristine Rusch)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

unison, all three children began to scream.


FOUR

Kueller strode across the hangar, his boots clanging on the metal.
Technicians prostrated themselves before him, their gloved hands extended on
the webbing. He walked so close to the group on the left that the hem of his
cape brushed their skulls. The death's-head mask adhered to his skin, giving
him comfort, giving him power.
"I need a ship," he said, his Force-strengthened voice echoing in the
large room. It was empty except for three TIE fighters in various states of
repair.
"Prepared, milord." His faithful assistant, Femon, rose to her feet. Her
long black hair hid her unnaturally pale face. With a flick of her head, she
flipped the hair aside, revealing kohl-blackened eyes and blood-red lips. She
had made her own face into a death mask that looked less realistic than his.
Kueller nodded. No one else moved. "Brakiss?" "Gone, milord." "He wasted
no time." "He said he had your permission." "You didn't check?" Femon smiled.
"I always check." "Good." Kueller caressed the word. Femon straightened
beneath his praise, as she always did. If she weren't so capable, he would...
He let the thought fade. No distractions, not even of the pleasant sort.
"Any reports from Pydyr?" "One thousand people are imprisoned in their homes,
as per your command," she said.
"Destruction?" "None." The word hung between them.
He allowed himself to smile, knowing that the expression chilled even his
hardest followers. "Excellent. Loss of life?" She clasped her hands behind her
back, taming her silver cape and outlining her willowy form. "One million, six
hundred and fifty-one thousand, three hundred and five, milord." "Exactly as
planned," he said.
"To a person. You'll be investigating?" "I always check," he said,
throwing her words back at her.
She smiled. The expression softened her face despite her attempts
otherwise. "Permission to accompany you?" For a moment, he hesitated. She had
been with him from the beginning. This part of the plan had been as much hers
as his. "Not yet," he said. "I have need of you here." "I thought we would
wait for Phase 2." "Oh, no," he said, purposely gentling his tone. "The wheels
are rolling. Better to maintain momentum than to lose advantage. Remember?"
"Vividly." In the shaking of her voice, he heard the residue of each and every
nightmare he had sent her, sometimes as many as five a night.
"Good," he said, and with his leather-gloved fingers he stroked her face.
"Very, very good."

The chamberlain pulled open the door to the Senate Hall as the heralds
announced Leia. All this pomp and circumstance had seemed unnecessary until
Leia's discussion with Mon Mothma. Now, after the strange event in the
dressing chambers, Leia was glad for the ceremonial diversion. It gave her a
moment to collect herself, to set aside the terror sent across space on a wave
of frigid cold.
She entered, head held high, two guards at her side. The stepped-up