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Kaj came to rest in the high support scaffolding of the apothecary building. He barely noted that he’d leapt many times higher than he’d ever managed before, but was pleased with the vantage point. He’d seen Scarface just there—across the street on that ledge, several stories down.

He was gone now, but to Kaj’s eyes, he left an oily smudge in passing, not unlike the phosphor-trailing spotted slugs back on his parents’ farm. Mind going back to that day—the day the Inquisitor assigned to his village had taken their farm—Kaj aimed his stored outrage at this Inquisitor.

His eyes followed the slug trail along the ledge. It stopped abruptly. So he’d leapt from there to … Kaj swept the front of the building, seeing no movement, catching no recommencement of the trail.

Where had he—?

The realization struck Kaj as suddenly as if someone had flung open a window in his mind. He leapt again, arcing across the street to a higher ledge even as a bolt of Force-lightning struck the spot where he’d stood, dancing across the durasteel frame of the scaffolding.

Kaj’s heart hammered in his breast. Frip, but that had been close. He’d forgotten the taozin’s deadening effect. He leapt a third time, straight up, and lost himself in the shadows beneath a docking station. He did not lose track of the Inquisitor, though. Nor had the Inquisitor lost track of him. Scarface had dropped to the buttress he’d just fried with his Force-lightning and was taking aim at the docking station.

Kaj shielded with one hand and held the other out, cupped to collect whatever there was that could be collected. He needed ammunition—the energy and matter in the air would provide it.

The salvo of Force-lightning from the Inquisitor enveloped the docking station and sundered it, exploiting every crack and crevice in its aging fabric. It blew apart dramatically, chunks of duracrete flying in all directions. Beneath it, in his Force cocoon, Kaj waited until he was sure the docking station had shed its last loose piece. Then he dropped his shield and thrust energy and matter away from him in a huge wave, sweeping everything in its path directly at the Inquisitor.

Masonry bombarded the scaffold, carried on a tide of Force energy. The solid surface beneath it heaved, then rippled like a banner in the wind. Bits of the façade broke loose and fell away, crumbling beneath the metal buttressing until the huge bolts lost their grip on the masonry. With a groan of surrender, the scaffolding toppled toward the street, carrying a trail of debris with it.

At first Jax wasn’t sure who had fired the volley; then he saw the flutter of scarlet robes among the falling debris. The Inquisitor who only seconds ago had been charging him had vanished. Taken out by the debris? Unlikely. He was too resourceful for that.

Jax dodged back under the overhanging eaves of the building behind him, scanning the sidewalk for Laranth. He saw her just up the street to his left, craning her own neck to see where her opponent had gone. She didn’t see him leap from the concealing debris, because she was spinning toward Jax, leaving her own flank exposed.

In an instant too brief to measure, he saw what Laranth saw—the cloaked figure atop the overhang, lightsaber drawn, preparing to plunge it downward through the duracrete into the top of his head. His reaction was instantaneous: he dodged sideways, shoving his own weapon up through the ledge and raking it sideways with a strength borne of desperation. It parted the duracrete as if it were a dense, heavy liquid. There was an answering shriek of agony from above him.

A split second later he heard Laranth’s blasters fire. He turned and saw her adversary evade the shot, catching one bolt with the blade of his lightsaber and vaulting backward into the street. A large chunk of masonry rolled from atop a heap of rubble to obscure him from view.

Jax somersaulted out from beneath his protective overhang, angling toward Laranth, but ready to defend against attack from above as well. He rolled to his feet just as the wounded Inquisitor reared