Rach’talik, in addition to wanting to replace Shala, was a virtuoso with explosives. The LX-1s went off in sequence, not all at once, washing the central area with wave after wave of laser fléchettes. Each blast scoured the center of the warehouse from a different angle, guaranteeing that no unexploded mines would be hit, but adding laser fire to the chemical fires and exploding drums.
And he even saved the blast from above for last, maximizing the chances that Shala would live long enough to know he had been betrayed.
Had Rach’talik gone for quantity instead of quality, I, too, would have been reduced to a greasy, steaming stain on the duracrete. I knew, from the second I saw the remote fall, I had only one chance at survival, and only one chance to try to contain the damage. I sank within myself, touched the Force, started it flowing, and sucked in every stray erg being sprayed on my direction. I felt sting after sting, as if I were sliding through a Sarlacc’s gullet, and it felt as if I were descending into a black pit of pain. I directed some of the Force to help me blunt the pain, but that made it much more difficult to hold on to all of the power I was absorbing.
I knew I couldn’t hang on to it for long, and I knew I needed to use it to contain the explosion’s deadly force. As I had done in the grotto to save Tionne, I channeled all of it into telekinesis and raised my left hand. I twisted my wrist, starting the energies swirling into a vortex. I could feel the air begin to whirl around me, tightening, quickening. Flames from the chemical fires leaped toward the center of the room, spinning themselves into the vortex. Loose debris, flaming bits of duraplast and rattling, clattering pieces of scrap metal flew into the air, filling the fiery cyclone with dark specks.
I pushed and drove the vortex up and out through the roof, enlarging the hole the last mine had already opened. Chemical drums sailed up, exploding as they went, pulsing green and purple fire through the rising funnel. Flames wreathed me and I sucked their heat in, then vented it back out, up and out, building the firestorm’s strength until it ripped the warehouse’s roof off and crumpled it like a discarded piece of flimiplast.
The warehouse’s doors banged open, then ripped free and flew like sabacc cards into the maelstrom. The warehouse’s viewports imploded as air rushed in to feed the firestorm. I no longer needed to push, it had become a thing of its own, almost living, certainly breathing. I felt it tug at me, but the energy it fed me kept me rooted in place. I reached out with my mind, pitching up into the column of fire the last several unexploded chemical drums, watched them blossom brilliantly, then smiled. The explosion had been contained, drawn inward. Though the warehouse’s corrugated metal walls glowed dully from the heat, they had not buckled. The tremors from the explosions had rippled out through the ground, but beyond that—and the fiery spear thrust into the sky—only the warehouse would be damaged by the Hutt’s deathtrap.
I felt the firestorm’s power begin to wane and I knew things were almost over, but I still had lots of energy left in me that I had to vent somehow. I looked up and allowed my smile to broaden. Everyone knows the Jedi came here to die. Let’s show them he did no such thing!
I expanded my sphere of responsibility and touched every mind I could find. Into them I projected a simple vision, one that would terrify many and reassure others. I let them see the shaft of fire stabbing up into the sky, and at its bottom was the hilt of a lightsaber. A giant figure of a man clad in green and black rose up through the black smoke, then the fire vanished as he switched his lightsaber off. He faded back into the smoke and was no more.
I opened my eyes and nodded as I surveyed the destruction. Shala had set a trap, and, in turn, had been trapped himself. I should have died, but I survived—survived in a way that Corran Horn of CorSec could never have managed. I had survived—no, I had won. Shala’s spectacular defeat would certainly crack the resolve of the other groups. A push here, a nudge there, and they would fall.
I hooked my lightsaber on my belt, then looked down when I heard it clunk on the duracrete. It lay there on a fireblackened floor, when it should have been on my hip. And it wasn’t because I didn’t have a belt to clip it to. While the Force allowed me to absorb energy and avoid being hurt by it—and lightsabers were notoriously durable—apparently my cloak and uniform were not.
It was at the point when I realized that I was naked that the first wave of exhaustion hit me and I began to notice other things. The imploding viewports had shattered into tiny little transparisteel fragments that had scourged me. I was bleeding from dozens of little cuts, including one across my nose and another somewhere in my scalp. I knew a simple Jedi healing technique could seal them and accelerate healing, but I found I was having trouble concentrating. Fatigue dragged at me, and I staggered back to sag against one of the amphitheatre’s walls.
In doing all I’d done, I must have burned off most of my personal Force reservoir. I couldn’t use it to link myself to the Force, to refresh myself. I was alone and tired, not thinking particularly sharply, but I knew one thing: if I stayed where I was, I’d be found and found out. The Jedi clearly survived the battle with Shala, but there was no way Jenos Idanian could have.
I scooped up my lightsaber and ran out of the warehouse. I headed north; at least, I think it was north. I kept with the way the night breeze was blowing most of the smoke, allowing it to cover me. From there I moved into the shadows and alleys, keeping low, watching carefully. I know a chunk of my feeling exposed came from my being naked, but a bigger piece came from my inability to touch the Force. With it to armor me, I could have pranced naked through the streets and no one would have given me a second glance. Now I was a naked guy with a lightsaber, which was bound to be seen as peculiar to even the most jaded eye on Courkrus.
I thought I had figured out where I was. I ran across a street and paused in the shadow of a store front to confirm my bearings, then I heard a lock click and the door began to open outward. Even though the store had been long closed, employees had been working inside. As they came out, I yelped and darted around the corner into an alley.
Which turned out to be a dead end. My dead end. And the single alley in Vlarnya that had a working light in it.
The two women came around the corner and stared at me. I stared back at them. They began to giggle and point. I leaned against a wall and tried to conceal my lightsaber behind my thigh. As they began to whisper to each other I looked away, hoping to hide my face so they couldn’t identify me. It wouldn’t take them any time to determine a man with a lightsaber had to be the hunted Jedi, and one hundred thousand credits, even split between them, would be enough to get them off Courkrus and buy them a life of luxury on any of a dozen other worlds.
I was done. It was over. Tavira would learn who I was—from me or from Elegos. Oh, Elegos, what have I done to you? She’ll destroy Kerilt. Once she had taken care of his world, she would have Mirax killed, probably before my eyes, then she would destroy me. I had succeeded in saving the people near the warehouse, but in doing so I had killed those I held most dear.
Then I felt strong hands on my shoulders. A blanket settled about me and I was turned away from the wall. I looked up. “Elegos?”
“There you are!” His rich voice boomed through the alley. “Drunk.”
“I …”
“Again!” he scolded. He reached down and plucked the lightsaber from my right hand.
“No, Elegos!”
Even though I tried to take it back, he raised the purloined weapon high and glared down at me. “So, where is it? Where is the rest of your speeder bike!?”
The women at the alley mouth burst out laughing. Clutching their sides, they reeled away and into the street. They glanced back, sharp laughter ringing out again and again as they thought about a naked drunken pirate who had demolished a speeder bike and only had the throttle assembly to show for it.
My knees gave way, but Elegos held me up. “Thanks.”
“You are more than welcome.”
I swallowed hard, my throat parched. “How
did you find me?”
“Your vision touched me and I assumed you might be in trouble.” He smiled and tapped his nose with a finger. “Ottegan silk, of which your clothes were made, has a distinctive scent when burned. Right now, you stink of it.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“I’ll endure it, for as long as it takes for us to get you home.” The Caamasi started walking me back toward the hotel. “And I wouldn’t fear for discovery, at least, not this evening. A lot of people saw a vision they hoped never to see tonight and are even now contemplating whether or not they want to stay in a place where they might get to see it again.”
I gave him a smile. “And you don’t mean those two women, right?”
“Not exclusively, no.” The Caamasi chuckled lightly. “Your work is done for this night, but its repercussions will go on for a good long time.”
FORTY-FIVE
I screwed the high energy flux aperture back on the head of the lightsaber and pitched to Elegos the blackened, misshapen lump that had been the diamond I’d put into the weapon. “Gone, completely gone.”
“It worked fine when you tested it initially.” He snatched the melted gemstone from the air, sniffed it, then rubbed a thumb across it. “Synthetic?”
I nodded. “Kubaz xurkonia. The crystalline lattice handled the energy while we tested it, but was probably ready to go down anytime. I trusted my grandfather’s comments about the various gems too much—I should have tested them. Actually, serves me right for trying to make a complicated lightsaber my first time out.”
Elegos frowned. “Why did you make one with variable blade lengths?”
I shrugged uneasily. “Well, I guess it was ego. Gantoris made one with two lengths and I wanted mine to be as good as his.”
“I thought you said he had a Sith Dark Lord instructing him at the time.”
“Sure, now you bring that point up.” I shook my head. “The longer length is useful for surprising an enemy, but not that practical in a fight. A simple block and a good swordsman would be inside my range and carving me up. Blade that long will also cause a lot of collateral damage, which would be fine if I was needing to do a lot of property destruction, but other than that it’s really just an impractical novelty item. Sithspawn, I don’t even know of any fighting styles to use with a blade that long.”
The Caamasi nodded. “Perhaps you can develop some when you replace the diamond. Finding a real diamond should not be that difficult—carbon is one of the more common elements.”
“True, but finding a stone with the proper cut, color and clarity will be tough.” I smiled. “Or getting it out of the gem cartels at a vaguely reasonable price will be.”
“When you free your Mirax, perhaps she can get it for you.”
I nodded solemnly. “I hope we’ll be testing that theory sooner rather than later.” I gave the lightsaber another quick glance. “At least I got the normal-length blade working again.”
Elegos accepted the weapon from me and clutched it in both hands. “I am pleased you managed to repair it, and that you survived your ordeal. Now you can admit you were wrong in how you dealt with Shala.”
“My strategy for dealing with him was perfectly sound.”
“Perfectly sound is a phrase seldom used to describe walking into an ambush.” The Caamasi shook his head. “You were wrong.”
“Not at all.” I frowned at him. “I really wasn’t the one who was ambushed, Shala was. I was just there to catch collateral damage.”
“Another rationalization. I expect better of you.” His eyes narrowed. “You were wrong.”
I started to protest, then folded my arms over my chest. “Elegos, I was a cop and a fighter pilot. Being wrong just doesn’t come with the package.”
“But you are a Jedi Knight now.”
His statement shocked me with its simplicity and truth. “You’re right, I’m a Jedi Knight. I was wrong, very wrong, and damn lucky to get out of there alive.”
The Caamasi smiled. “Not lucky, just strong in the Force. You protected others and thereby were preserved yourself. Never forget that fact.”
“No, no I won’t.” I smiled at him. “And the cop/fighter jock in me can admit to being grateful to you. Thanks again for the rescue.”
“All in a day’s work.” Elegos secreted the lightsaber away in a sideboard compartment, then headed for the food preparation station. “I’ve already been out this morning and learned a couple of important things that are the results of your Hutt encounter.”
I shrugged on my bedrobe and knotted the sash at my waist. The robe had been one of Tavira’s gifts. It had been fashioned from Ottegan silk of purple with gold trim at the collar and sleeves. I found it a bit too gaudy for my taste, but I was sore from the previous night’s ordeal, and it was light enough not to make me ache. Walking after Elegos in it was a bother, though, with the material trying to wrap itself around my legs with each step.
“What did you hear?”
Elegos set out a small platter with fresh pastries and poured me a container of a bluish zureber syrup that looked horrible, but tasted pretty good. “The destruction of Shala’s gang has caused serious problems. Apparently the Jedi’s appearance over the city galvanized some local citizens to form little hunting bands of their own. Several Blackstar Pirates were beaten and stoned when they left the Aviary. Rather nasty slogans have been painted on the walls and doors of some of the Invid spaceport docking facilities. While the locals love the money the Invids bring in, most are afraid that as long as they are here, the Jedi will remain and might begin to go after more than just the Invids.”
I sighed. “I’d hoped the indigs might see the Jedi as a protector.”
“The people here don’t so much want a protector as they do a benefactor.”
“Good point.” An idea occurred to me and I smiled. “I can take care of that. What else?”
“The clutches you had outfitted with hyperdrives?”
“Yes?”
“Gone. Appears a couple of the Survivors decided they would find surviving easier elsewhere.”
I smiled. “Timmser and Caet?”
“They were the ones you insisted on having trained on the ships so they could instruct others.” The Caamasi gave me an appreciative nod. “I didn’t think they would take the bait. I expected them to remain and oppose the Jedi.”
“I guess they heard there was a rumor that they were the reason I’d demanded a month from Tavira before becoming her consort. Story goes that I’ve been spending a lot of my off hours with them in a last grasp at freedom before becoming Tavira’s nighttoy. They’re both smart enough to know Tavira isn’t likely to care whether or not it’s the truth—just the rumor will damage her image and demand retribution.”
Elegos narrowed his eyes. “And where would that rumor have come from?”
I shrugged. “You know me, when I’m drinking I can’t keep a secret and I’m depressed enough to mourn my love life in public.”
“Well done.” He sipped from a glass of the blue syrup, which turned the golden down of his upper lip green until he licked it clean. “Will you rest today, or keep up the pressure?”
“Nothing breeds success like success.” I took a big bite out of a pastry, chewed, then swallowed. “The Invid system has one huge weakness and I need to push and exploit it before Tavira can act.”
The huge flaw in the way Tavira controlled her groups was what she saw as keeping her safe: all communication was pretty much one way. The HoloNet could keep her informed about big events in the galaxy, like a major New Republic push against her subsidiary groups, or events like the Sun Crusher and its destruction; but she was blind to local Courkrus news. Word of an impending operation reached us when a small craft, like a Skipray blastboat, entered the system and commed directly with the headquarters of the various groups. During these runs she picked up local news, but until she made one of those runs, she’d not know anything about what I was doing.
I handled the benefactor problem ra
ther quickly, and mopped up the rest of Shala’s crew at the same time. Rach’talik had gathered a small band around himself and set up housekeeping in a warehouse in which Shala had stored a lot of the loot his group had taken. The night after the Great Hutt Roast—as it became known locally—I hit the warehouse, scattered the various denizens, then threw the place open to the public. This action became known as the Fire Sale, since it was assumed anything left in the place would be burned, and it was picked clean in hours. A few minor scuffles broke out, but visions of a shadowy presence caught in the corner of the eye was enough to quell them.
Two days later a communications ship arrived from Tavira. I would have loved to have been there to watch the communications officer when he tried to raise Shala and the Fastblast and got no answer. The information he got from the others wouldn’t have pleased him any better, since desertions had decimated the Blackstar Pirates and LazerLords. Most of the Red Nova crew had gone native, leaving the Survivors and Riistar’s Raiders the best off of the groups. In three weeks of absence, the cutting edge of the Invids had been considerably dulled.
Elegos and I expected a reaction from Tavira, and got it more quickly than we thought possible. Within a day after her communications ship left Courkrus, I awakened to a pounding on my suite’s door. I heard Elegos’s voice, had thrown back the covers and pulled my robe on, but didn’t get even as far as closing it when the door to my bedroom burst open and Tavira stalked in. She shoved me back on the bed, then stood there with her fists on her hips, looking down at me.
“Surprised to see me?”
I blinked and swiped sleepsand from my eyes. “Surprised? No, I suppose not.”
“Are you pleased?”
“Yes.”
“Harumph.” She eyed me appraisingly. “I would think you would show it more.”
Star Wars: I, Jedi: Star Wars Page 44
