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She tried. She attempted to envelop Vader in a bubble of seamless Force energy, but she, too, found handling the Force as difficult as Jax had. He felt her frustration as broken threads of quivering energy.

No matter. Lightsaber flashing, Jax began to inch toward the Dark Lord.

The Inquisitor, Tesla, immobilized by shock, seemed to come to himself suddenly. He ignited his own weapon and met Jax blade for blade, intent on keeping the Jedi from his obvious purpose. With the place coming down around them, and with no way of reaching Vader, Jax found himself in a standoff with the Inquisitor.

He glanced at Kaj, huddled with Laranth in their corner, face white and terror-filled. What had Vader done to him, to keep him from even attempting to use the Force? How had the Dark Lord turned him from an unpredictable and implacable enemy into a pet he dared let out of its cage? Jax knew he’d never get any answers to those questions if he couldn’t end the stalemate.

Above the sizzle and clash of the two crimson blades, Jax heard a blessed sound behind him: the whine of I-Five’s laser. The droid had freed himself and was working on the doors. Jax caught his breath when he saw the condition his friend was in—one arm all but severed, dangling by a few wires, and most of his upper torso crushed. He’d had to drag himself to the doors, and his single functioning laser was sputtering badly. Nevertheless, he persevered.

Marshaling all his energies, Jax bore down on the Inquisitor, pushing him back toward his dark master. He handled the Sith blade as if it were an extension of his body, as if his mind wielded it without the intermediary of his arms and hands. Thrust, parry, thrust; high to low, then high again.

Tesla, his face shiny with sweat and twisted into a rictus of pure rage, tried to hold, but was forced to give ground. His gaze bored into Jax’s as if he might do him physical damage with that as well. Jax knew he wanted to.

Back and back, closer and closer to Vader the two fought, until a clever feint by Tesla pulled Jax slightly off-balance. The Inquisitor’s grimace became a death’s-head grin of elation. He shifted his blade to one hand and whirled it in an arc toward Jax’s side.

A glancing blow of Vader’s erratic power struck the Inquisitor and tumbled him, head over heels, into a tangle of wrecked machinery and optical fibers. His lightsaber extinguished and spun away, clattering to the floor.

Jax abruptly found himself facing Darth Vader with nothing but his lightsaber. Opportunity or disaster? he asked himself.

Vader’s helmeted head turned toward him, half obscured by the frantic flow of Force static. Every nerve ending in Jax’s body tingled with the regard. He raised the blade and saw the mirrored movement of Vader’s hand.

Vader issued two words; Jax couldn’t tell if he heard them with his ears or through the Force: You cannot.

A warning? A hope? A lie? Before Jax could answer with word or lightsaber, the doors behind him slid open.

Jax saw Vader’s head tilt toward the doors, and swung his blade in an overhand arc. It struck the envelope of Force cocooning Vader and ricocheted as if it were made of mere metal. The shock of the contact numbed Jax’s arm and hurled him to the floor.

“Jax!” The voice was Laranth’s, calling from behind him; he turned and scrambled to his feet. Through the open control room doorway he saw Thi Xon Yimmon, Tuden Sal, and a team of Whiplash operatives that included, incredibly, Den Dhur. They were armed to the teeth, fangs, and mandibles.

Laranth stood just inside the door, one hand extended toward him. Next to her Tuden Sal struggled to remove Kaj without hurting him; the boy seemed intent on getting to Vader. He was screaming inarticulately; what it was Jax couldn’t make out above the booming sounds of Vader’s Force blasts. As Jax stumbled toward them, reaching for Laranth’s outstretched hand, Kaj broke free of Sal and darted past him. Before Jax could react, the boy was slammed by Force energy and wrenched off his feet. Vader had effectively roped him with a lash of pure energy and was