Star Wars_ Cloak of Deception - James Luceno [110]
The shooter was dazzlingly fast with his hands and body, dodging bolts and throwing himself from one side of the narrow walkway to the other, concealed body armor absorbing the few shots that did manage to find him.
Qui-Gon leapt forward. Slashing horizontally with his blade, he severed two of the walkway’s tubular vertical supports.
Then he slashed downward to rend the struts that braced the platform.
Abruptly both sections of the cleaved walkway tilted, sending Qui-Gon and Havac’s shooter staggering toward each other and the increasing gap between the now dangling ends of the platform.
A crazed yell tore from the shooter’s throat. He slipped to the floor and began to slide along the grating, firing both weapons at Qui-Gon as he fell.
* * *
Into the brief silence the musicians inserted between the second and final fanfares, came a rush of voices raised in panic.
Seated stiffly at the center of the Coruscant delegation’s rostrum, Valorum wasn’t sure what had provoked the screams until he saw Sei Taria, with one hand pressed to her mouth, pointing toward the hall’s ceiling.
In the maze of walkways below the dome’s oculus window, blaster bolts darted and crisscrossed in the tinted light. Others glanced from a lightsaber’s green blade. Sparks showered down on the drummers and trumpeters like a benediction.
Sei screamed.
Jedi Masters Adi Gallia and Vergere rushed forward, their swords ignited.
Then a figure plummeted from one of the walkways.
From the Trade Federation’s side of the hall, the chair of the directorate watched open-mouthed as a blaster fight erupted in the overhead trusses and gantries. On the floor, at the same time, three Jedi and several judicials were moving quickly if surreptitiously toward the directorate rostrum.
The Kuati glanced between the ceiling and floor. Had the summit been engineered to trap the directorate? he asked himself. Would the Republic be so bold as to attack them in public?
The security droids had gone from standing at attention to postures of readiness, crouching slightly, with arms crooked and left legs extended behind. They were programmed to answer to any or all of the directorate members—or at least relay a directorate member’s commands to the central control computer on board the Trade Federation vessel—but the droids responded best to the Neimoidians.
The Kuati chair looked around for Viceroy Gunray and realized that he hadn’t returned. At a loss for what to do, he swung to one of his aides.
“Activate the force field!” he ordered.
The sounds of blasters and panic on the floor infiltrated the media booth Havac had secured. Seated in a chair with a hand weapon leveled at Havac, Cohl heard the holocam click on and saw Havac glance at it.
“Am I correct in assuming that you intend to kill me?” Havac asked. “Killing is what you are good at, after all.”
“You’re doing pretty good for an beginner, Havac.”
Havac snorted in disdain. “I’m prepared to die for the cause, Captain.”
“Maybe you are,” Cohl said. “But I’m not going to give you that privilege. You’re going to die for killing Rella. Besides, your cause is lost.”
Havac glanced at the cam again. “You think so?”
Cohl gestured toward the transparisteel window. “You hear those blaster bolts? The Jedi found your shooter—the one controlling the droid. Valorum is out of danger. I never thought much of the plan anyway, seeing how Valorum is trying to dismantle the Trade Federation, the same as you are.”
Havac laughed shortly. “You failed to see the truth, Cohl. You really are too old for the game. What makes you think that we were ever after Valorum?”
Cohl’s grin straightened.
Grimacing in pain, he pushed himself out of the chair and limped to the window. The blaster fight had thrown the hall into utter chaos. The members of the Trade Federation Directorate were standing behind their