Book 7 - Yoda Dark Rendezvous by Sean Stewart

Author:Sean Stewart [Stewart, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, Star Wars
ISBN: 9780345463098
Publisher: Del Ray
Published: 2004-11-23T08:00:00+00:00

Back in the cafeteria, long lines of bored passengers were still queued up for food. Children dabbled designs on the plastic cafeteria tables with bits of dipping sauce, or tried to convince their parents they had eaten their vegetables by hiding them under overturned cups. On the other side of the room, opposite the food service area, a giant holovid display was running endless coverage of the latest tragedies of the Clone Wars.

In short, there was nothing to show that the world as Whie knew it had slipped over some terrible event horizon, never to be seen again.

“You were born Whie Malreaux,” the red-and-ivory droid said in its fussy, precise manner. “You came into this life on the planet of Vjun, after a difficult labor that lasted two standard nights and a day in early spring. You were a good-natured child, unlike your unfortunate brother, quick to walk and quick to talk. The one thing he did better than you was sleep,” the droid said, still speaking quietly but holding Whie’s eyes with his own. “For even as a very young child, you were troubled by your dreams.”

“How do you know all this?” Whie whispered.

“I was there.”

“But—”

The droid touched his livery of metal paint. “These are the colors of the House Malreaux, crimson and cream; blood and ivory, if you prefer. And I am a servant of that house.”

Whie felt as if his mind had just made the jump to hyperspace. Into it leapt the image from his most recent visionary dream—himself and Scout and the evil woman standing in a rich house, the rich carpet under his feet, and under it, stretching away from the woven edges, a checkered floor of red and ivory tiles.

Home. The word a certainty in his heart.

He was going home.

“When the Jedi stole you from your home—”

“Stole! The Jedi don’t steal!”

The droid brushed him aside with a brisk wave of his hand. “They found your mother in a weak moment, shocked by the death of her husband and so drunk she was half insensible. I urged her to reconsider, but nobody listens to a droid’s advice.” He sniffed. “The point is, the thing was done, and could not be undone. But within days your mother realized the Jedi had kidnapped the heir of a noble house. She sent me to Coruscant to watch over you, and wait.”

“Ten years? Eleven?” Whie said, incredulous.

The droid shrugged. He was extremely well programmed—while still clearly a machine, his movements were fluid, natural, and precise.

“My name is Fidelis,” the droid said. “I am programmed for absolute loyalty to the House Malreaux, which I have served through madness and war for twelve generations. Now I serve you.”

“But, but…I don’t want—” Whie stammered. “I am Jedi. I have no other family. I can’t accept your service.”

“Beg pardon, Master, but my service is mine to give. Whether you choose to accept it or not is outside the parameters of my programming.”

“Then I order you to leave me alone!”

“Your mother is currently the

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