Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights 01_ Jedi Twilight - Michael Reaves [104]
The lightsaber’s crackle sounded to Nick like the thrumming of a taut, vibrating cable. The prince raised the shimmering blade over Jax’s head. “It’s nothing personal,” he said again. “It’s just business.”
There was no more time to wait for a miracle, and miracles weren’t exactly regular occurrences in Nick’s life anyway. He tensed. He had one card left to play, a bit of knowledge that Xizor didn’t know he had, and a reasonable chance now of implementing it before the Fallen could, quite literally, hand him his head. If he could get the drop on Xizor for just a second, he might be able to delay the prince long enough for the rest of his plan to work. He doubted he’d get much more time than that; Falleen were much stronger than humans, and their reflexes much faster.
Well, no one said it would be easy.
“Zu woohama,” he said quietly to the droid holding him. And then: “Release me.”
The pressure of 10-4TO’s grasp on Nick’s arms vanished. Though he’d spoken softly, it was obvious that the prince heard him, even over the hiss and crackle of the lightsaber. Nick didn’t hesitate; he leapt at the astonished Falleen, his target the upraised hand that held the lightsaber. As he did so, he shouted to Bug-Eyes, “Free the Jedi!”
He didn’t know how close he’d come to grabbing the weapon’s hilt, but it wasn’t close enough. Even though taken by surprise, Xizor was able to backhand Nick away, knocking him across the chamber and against the far wall. He felt a searing pain in his chest as he fell—
And then, to his astonishment, there was a miracle.
Unfortunately, it, too, was very painful.
Kaird wasn’t sure why he had been left alive. He’d figured on a life expectancy of maybe ten minutes after Xizor had realized his lab and its personnel had been destroyed—by what, Kaird didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. Xizor had muttered something about droids, but how could droids be responsible for such atrocities? Even battle droids were programmed for swift, clean kills—not so much out of humanitarian motives as simple expediency. Whatever had killed those scientists and their assistants had taken their time; they had enjoyed it.
He shuddered. If whatever had done this was still lurking about, then the only safe direction for them was straight up. But Xizor didn’t seem to care. All his attention was focused on the Jedi.
“It’s nothing personal, you understand,” Xizor was telling the Jedi as he raised the latter’s lightsaber. The prince’s blaster was still in its holster; evidently Xizor favored the Jedi’s own weapon for his execution. But then, Xizor had always been one for the dramatic gesture.
It’s nothing personal. Kaird almost smiled. When you took another being’s life, it was always personal. He’d looked into the eyes of too many sentients whose existences he’d terminated in the services of someone else’s “business” to know otherwise.
His musings were interrupted by something surprising: two words, spoken in a low voice by the human who had tried to pose as a Black Sun operative. Two words that he had heard spoken for the first time only recently, by Prince Xizor, to 10-T40.
“Zu woohama.” The code phrase to control the droid, followed by a quick, quiet command: “Release me.”
Obviously Xizor’s influence over the human had waned. Of course he didn’t have a prayer of success, but, just possibly, the distraction might give Kaird a chance. His legs weren’t bound; he could run, lose himself in the maze of corridors …
And get lost himself, no doubt. And then what? Wander around with his arms still cuffed until whatever tore through that lab like a rancor on synthoroot found