Star Wars_ Darth Bane 03_ Dynasty of Evil - Drew Karpyshyn [9]
Stepping out from behind the rocks, he called out in a loud voice, “Show yourself!”
A blaster bolt ripped from the darkness toward him. At the last second he deflected it with his lightsaber, sending it off harmlessly into the corner—a technique he had mastered years ago while still a Padawan.
Too close, he thought to himself. You’re slow, hesitant. Trust in the Force.
The power of the Force enveloped him, but something about it still felt wrong. Its strength flickered and ebbed, like a static-filled transmission. Something—or someone—was disrupting his ability to focus. A dark veil had fallen across his consciousness, interfering with his ability to draw upon the Force. For a Jedi there was nothing more terrifying, but Medd had no intention of retreating.
“Leave the miners alone,” he called out, his voice betraying none of the uncertainty he felt. “Show yourself and face me!”
From the far corner of the room a young Iktotchi woman stepped forth, holding a blaster pistol in each hand. She was clad in a simple black cloak, but she had thrown her hood back to reveal the downward-curving horns that protruded from the sides of her head and tapered to a sharp point just above her shoulders. Her reddish skin was accentuated by black tattoos on her chin—four sharp, thin lines extending like fangs from her lower lip.
“The miners are dead,” she told him. There was something cruel in her voice, as if she was taunting him with the knowledge.
Gingerly using the Force to extend his awareness, Medd realized it was true. As if peering through an obscuring haze, he could just manage to see the bodies of the miners strewn about the chamber, each branded by a lethal shot to the head or chest. In the few seconds it had taken him to collect himself, she had slain them all.
“You’re an assassin,” he surmised. “Sent by the royal family to kill the rebel leaders.”
She tilted her head in acknowledgment, and opened her mouth as if she was about to speak. Then, without warning, she fired another round of blaster bolts at him.
The ruse nearly worked. With the Force flowing through him he should have sensed her deception long before she acted, but whatever power was obscuring his ability to touch the light side had left him vulnerable.
Instead of trying to deflect the bolts a second time, Medd threw himself to the side, landing hard on the ground.
You’re as clumsy as a youngling, he chided himself as he scrambled back to his feet.
Unwilling to expose himself to another barrage, he thrust out his free hand, palm facing out. Using the Force, he yanked the weapons from his enemy’s grasp. The effort sent a searing bolt of pain through the entire length of his head, causing him to wince and take a half step back. But the blasters sailed through the air and landed harmlessly on the ground beside him.
To his surprise, the assassin seemed unconcerned. Could she sense his fear and uncertainty? The Iktotchi were known to have limited precognitive abilities; it was said they could use the Force to see glimpses of the future. Some even claimed they were telepathic. Was it possible she was somehow using her abilities to disrupt his connection to the Force?
“If you surrender, I will promise you a fair trial,” Medd told her, trying to project an image of absolute confidence and self-assurance.
She smiled at him, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. “There will be no trial.”
The Iktotchi threw herself into a back handspring, her robe fluttering as she flipped out of view behind the cover of a thick stone outcropping. At the same instant, one of the blasters at Medd’s feet beeped sharply.
The Jedi had thought he had disarmed his foe, but instead he had fallen into her well-laid trap. He had just enough time to register that the power