Star Wars_ Darth Bane 03_ Dynasty of Evil - Drew Karpyshyn [8]
“What is being done to your people is wrong,” Medd agreed, choosing his words carefully. “I will do what I can to convince the king to stop his persecution of your people. But I cannot promise anything.”
“Then why are you here?” Gelba demanded.
Medd hesitated. In the end, he decided that straightforward truth was the only recourse. “A few weeks ago one of your teams dug up a small tomb.”
“Doan is covered with old tombs,” Gelba replied. “Centuries ago we used to bury our dead … back before the nobility decided they would dig up the whole planet.”
“There was a small cache of artifacts inside the tomb,” Medd continued. “An amulet. A ring. Some old parchment scrolls.”
“Anything we dig up belongs to us!” one of the miners shouted angrily.
“It’s one of our oldest laws,” Gelba confirmed. “Even the royal family knows better than to try and violate it.”
“My Master believes those artifacts may be touched by the dark side,” Medd said. “I must bring them back to our Temple on Coruscant for safekeeping.”
Gelba glared at him with narrowed eyes, but didn’t speak.
“We will pay you, of course,” Medd added.
“You Jedi portray yourselves as guardians,” Gelba said. “Champions of the weak and downtrodden. But you care more about a handful of gold trinkets than you do about the lives of men and women who are suffering.”
“I will try to help you,” Medd promised. “I will speak to the king on your behalf. But first I must have those—”
He stopped abruptly, the echo of his words still hanging in the cavern. Something’s wrong. There was a sudden sickness in the pit of his stomach, a sense of impending danger.
“What?” Gelba demanded. “What is it?”
A disturbance in the Force, Medd thought, his hand dropping to the lightsaber on his belt. “Somebody’s coming.”
“Impossible. The sentries at the tunnel outside would have—ungh!”
Gelba’s words were cut off by the unmistakable sound of a blaster’s retort. She staggered back and fell to the ground, a smoking hole in her chest. With cries of alarm the other miners scattered, scrambling for cover behind the rock formations that filled the cavern. Two of them didn’t make it, felled by deadly accurate shots that took them right between the shoulder blades.
Medd held his ground, igniting his lightsaber and peering into the shadows that lined the walls of the cave. Unable to pierce the darkness with his eyes, he opened himself to the Force—and staggered back as if he had been punched in the stomach.
Normally, the Force washed over him like a warm bath of white light, strengthening him, centering him. This time, however, it struck him like a frozen fist in the gut.
Another blaster bolt whistled by his ear. Dropping to his knees, Medd crawled to cover behind the nearest rock formation, bewildered and confused. As a Jedi, he had trained his entire life to transform himself into a servant of the Force. He had learned to let the light side flow through him, empowering him, enhancing his physical senses, guiding his thoughts and actions. Now the very source of his power had seemingly betrayed him.
He could hear blaster bolts ricocheting throughout the chamber as the miners returned fire against their unseen opponent, but he shut out the sounds of battle. He didn’t understand what had happened to him; he only knew he had to find some way to fight it.
Panting, the Jedi silently recited the first lines of the Jedi Code, struggling to regain his composure. There is no emotion; there is peace. The mantra of his Order allowed him to bring his breathing under control. A few seconds later he felt composed enough to reach out carefully to try to touch the Force once more.
Instead of peace and serenity, he felt only anger and hatred. Instinctively, his mind recoiled, and Medd realized what had happened. Somehow the power he was drawing on had been tainted by the dark side, corrupted and poisoned.
He still couldn’t explain it, but now he at least knew how to try to resist the effects.