Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights II Streets of Shadows - Michael Reaves [40]
The night was quiet, save for the eerie whistling of a breeze through the columns and rooms of the ruined Temple. Except for the endless stream of air traffic high overhead there was no movement. All seemed calm again, but Sing did not relax. She could no more stand down from her state of habitual alert than she could stop breathing.
A slight movement behind her …
In the space of a breath Sing’s lightsaber was lit. The bounty hunter swung it in a deadly arc behind her, spinning about as she struck to face whatever foe might be lurking there.
Its body cut neatly in half, a large armored rat writhed momentarily on the ground before her. It shuddered briefly and then lay still.
With a grunt, Aurra Sing deactivated her weapon, clipped it to her belt, and strode off to resume her search for Jax Pavan.
“Extreme discontinuity in Force convergent.” Jax repeated the phrase to himself, then looked at Den and the Paladin. “Any idea what it means?”
“Well,” the Sullustan replied, “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I’m fairly certain that I have no karking idea whatsoever.”
“You’re a lot of help.” Jax turned to Laranth. “I hope you’ve got something more substantive.”
The Twi’lek shook her head. “I wish I did. Unfortunately, I’m just as baffled as Den.”
Jax looked around the room. Present were Laranth, Den, and I-Five. Missing were Rhinann and Dejah. Jax didn’t know where the Elomin was. The Zeltron was in one of the bedchambers sleeping off her concussive hangover. He sighed. “Anyone else care to venture a guess?”
I-Five spoke up. “Obviously the concept that is being communicated has something to do with four-dimensional perception. We know that the Cephalon can to a certain extent see into the future the way we can see down a path. Unfortunately, it’s a winding path that seems to meander through mist and clouds, rendering the final picture inconclusive.”
Den raised a brow. “Wow, that was almost poetical. Almost.”
The droid peered down at his companion. “This from a representative of a culture whose crowning artistic achievement is a paean to the military-industrial complex.” I-Five addressed his next remark to Jax. “It’s clear that the Cephalon was trying to apprise us of some future event. It is up to us to figure out its meaning.”
Den rolled his eyes, the result being quite impressive. “Why, why, why do these sort of hints have to be all roundabout and mysterious? Why can’t we for once run into a fortune-teller who’s clear and up front about things? A week from now the Festering Plague will break out in the Blackpit Slums. Wear gloves. Like that.”
“I doubt that the Cephalon was striving to be oracular just for effect,” the droid replied. “Attempts to reduce a four-dimensional tense into Basic are frequently less than completely successful.”
Jax was about to comment when a bulky shadow filled the doorway. It was Rhinann. His gaze swept over the others with monumental detachment and disinterest, to drop anchor upon reaching Jax.
“There are, as far as I have been able to determine,” he said lugubriously, “no lightsabers or components thereof remaining on Coruscant.”
“You’re sure?” Den asked. “Did you look behind the couch?”
Rhinann ignored this. “My investigation into the matter has been thorough and exhaustive. It is, of course, entirely possible that in a city covering five-point-one times one hundred and eight kilometers squared, a weapon approximately one meter long when activated and rather less when not just might have escaped my notice. If you suspect that to be the case, I urge you to continue your own search.”
“What about crystals?” Jax asked.
“No traceable signs of Adegan, Ilum, or Dantooine crystals, either. Again,” Rhinann added, “I cannot guarantee that someone somewhere