Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights 01_ Jedi Twilight - Michael Reaves [84]
Fortunately, though Nick’s affinity with the Force was tenuous at best with others, it was a little stronger when turned inward. He’d always been good at controlling his own autonomic responses; he could stay cool and calm in most emergencies. Which was what he had done in this case, calming his heartbeat, slowing his respiration, lowering his skin temperature. Out of the corner of his eye he’d noticed Jax watching him, and felt the faint probing of the Jedi’s mind. A moment later it had stopped, and Jax had leaned back, apparently satisfied, and murmured something to I-Five.
That had been close.
They made it to the fourth floor without incident. A few Ugnaughts and Ishi Tib peered from their cave-like habitats as he and the others passed. Nick didn’t blame them for being jumpy—it had been a pretty eventful night already, judging by the shattered floor and the blaster marks, and seeing such a heterogeneous group enter the scene could only be adding to their confusion.
The fourth floor was mostly dark, lit only by the flickering of fluorescents. As they cautiously approached a corner, a faint voice could be heard. Nick was unable to make out the words, but the voice was male; smooth and cultured, but with an undertone of menace. It reminded him, for some reason, of Vader’s voice, although it was quite different from Vader’s in tone.
As the Jedi and the Paladin edged closer, Nick felt a sudden blossoming of danger just out of sight around the corner. Was he sensing the danger through the Force, or just through some subconscious fear of his own? It was maddening, at times, to have such a tenuous connection to it. Somehow, he doubted a Jedi ever had these misgivings.
Fortunately, in this case it didn’t matter. He didn’t have to lead, only to follow. And the two he was following were skilled and trained Jedi. They weren’t going to lead anyone into a trap.
That, unfortunately, would be Nick’s job.
Both Laranth and Jax stiffened, pausing for a moment in their slow approach. Nick wondered what they were sensing. What he was getting was a faint but insistent sense of … resolve. Ruthlessness. It felt like a dark smudge against his brain. It felt unclean, somehow.
He saw Jax draw his lightsaber, though he didn’t ignite it. Laranth unholstered her blasters. Nick felt his own hand itching for the blaster at his belt.
This was not good. If Jax wound up getting himself killed on this mission, Vader would be a very unhappy Dark Lord. Though one part of Nick’s brain was still desperately trying to come up with a way out of this farrago without betraying his friend, another, larger part was reminding him that to fail Darth Vader was about as smart as walking into a nexu’s den wearing a meat suit.
Jax lit his lightsaber. He and Laranth sprang around the corner.
And into a hail of blasterfire.
thirty-three
As Jax came around the corner, he was fully prepared to deal with whoever or whatever was there. In mid-leap he’d reached for the Force, secure in his knowledge that through it he’d be granted a few seconds’ worth of prescience—enough to easily deflect whatever came his way.
But once again, the Force simply wasn’t there.
Before he could recover from the shock of the betrayal by his senses, a salvo of energy bursts battered him to his knees. The searing pain of the blasts filled him, setting afire every nerve, every cell, in his body. But as bad as it was, it was eclipsed by the pain of having reached out and, once again, finding only void instead of the familiar connection that was so much a part of him.
Dimly, he realized that the barrage of energy bolts had ceased. He was momentarily confused, because he could still hear staccato bursts of blasterfire. He opened