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It took Johun several seconds to realize he wasn’t dead. Even missing the rocks, a fall from that height should have been lethal. Yet somehow he had survived, though he was now sinking quickly into the ocean’s angry depths. The Force, he thought in amazement. He had given himself over to its power during the fall; in return it had spared his life.

He realized he was still clutching tightly to the front of the Twi’lek’s shirt. Through the murky waters he could see his opponent’s head lolling to the side at an unnatural angle, his neck broken when they had slammed into the unyielding ocean surface.

Releasing his grip he swam toward the surface, pulling with powerful strokes. Just as his lungs threatened to give out, he breached, gasping and swallowing huge gulps of air. The girders supporting the platform rose up out of the water before him, only a few meters away. He kicked his legs and reached out to grab the slick, wet durasteel with hands already going numb in the chill waters, then began the long slow climb back to the top.

Blood poured freely from the cuts to his forearms. But though the wounds were deep, they hadn’t struck any critical nerves or tendons, and he was able to use his hands to help him along as he clambered up the girders.

He had reached the halfway point when he paused to rest, shivering in the wind. A voice called his name; looking up, he saw the face of Chancellor Valorum staring down at him. Knowing he needed to save his breath for the rest of the climb, Johun’s only response was a weak wave of acknowledgment.

Half a meter from the top Valorum’s arm reached down over the edge to clasp his own. The exhausted Jedi was grateful for the aid as the Chancellor helped him clamber up and back onto the safety of the platform. Johun tried to stand, but his limbs betrayed him. All he could manage was to roll onto his back and stare up at the sky, panting and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.

“You saved my life,” the Chancellor said, sitting down beside him to wait for the Jedi to recover from his ordeal. “I can never repay you for what you have done, but if there is ever anything you want of me you need only ask.”

“There is one thing.” Johun gasped from his back, still too tired to even try to sit up. “Hire yourself a kriffing security team.”

13

Zannah made her way slowly through Carannia’s market square, purchasing supplies to replace those Bane had inadvertently destroyed. Only a week had passed since she’d last been here, but in that short time a great many things had changed.

Kel was dead, for one. The HoloNet was buzzing with the news of the failed attempt to kidnap Chancellor Valorum, and all the accounts made specific mention of the red-skinned Twi’lek and his end at the hands of a Jedi Knight named Johun Othone.

Three of the others from the small group were dead as well, though reports indicated that two of the terrorists had fled the scene. From the descriptions given it was obvious to Zannah that Paak and Cyndra were the two surviving fugitives.

The attack had prompted immediate condemnation from the Senate and the rest of the Republic. More important, the Counts of Serenno had promised swift and decisive action to stamp out the separatist organizations that plagued their fair world. Based on the enormous rewards being offered for information leading to the capture of those involved in the attack, it seemed the nobles intended to keep their promise.

Even had Kel and his friends succeeded, Zannah now realized, the reaction of the Counts would have been the same. In the aftermath of the violence, the bodies of several members of Count Nalju’s household staff were discovered near the landing site. They had been sent to greet Chancellor Valorum on his arrival, only to be murdered by the radicals who had set the ambush.

The deaths of several long-serving followers was a great tragedy for House Nalju, but it paled in comparison with the horror elicited by the attack itself. The Count had personally sponsored the Chancellor’s visit;