Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 02_ Omen - Christie Golden [8]
She landed lightly, raced through the entrance, then whirled and touched the button that caused the door to this wing to slam shut.
He could open it from the other side, she knew. To prevent that, she shoved her lightsaber hilt-deep into the controls. They crackled and hissed, and her nose wrinkled at the acrid burning smell.
It wouldn’t hold them for long, but she’d bought herself a precious moment to think, blast it; clear her head and think. She was prey, trapped in the rancor’s lair, and she had to get out—
She took a slow, steadying breath, and with the control of a Jedi Knight she was calmed her racing, terrified thoughts. Jysella closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, and then slowly opened them.
And saw something very strange.
CILGHAL CAUGHT UP WITH RADD MINKER AS THE BRUBB WAS USING HIS lightsaber to cut a hole in the door. She reached out into the Force, trying to sense Jysella, startled to realize that the young woman was still on the other side of the door.
“Cilghal to security,” she said on her comlink. “Jysella Horn is directly outside the Archives on the south side. She has closed the door and destroyed the controls. Jedi Minker is currently cutting through the door with his lightsaber. My guess is that once she catches her breath she’ll head straight for the Promenade exit. She’s frightened, and I anticipate she’ll take the most direct route. Expect her to bolt.”
“Acknowledged. She won’t get past us.”
Cilghal replaced the comlink on her belt and extended her thoughts into the Force, trying again to see if she could reach Jysella and calm the panicked human.
She braced herself for the expected, almost animalistic fear that had buffeted her the first time she’d reached out to Jysella. Instead, she found something else entirely. The fear was still there, yes, but over and around it was something that was only vaguely familiar to Cilghal, and the Mon Cal healer couldn’t quite place it. She frowned, letting herself drop in deeper.
JYSELLA SAW HERSELF, RACING DOWN THE HALLWAY TOWARD FREEDOM. The hallway was flanked by large pillars on either side, supporting the beautifully carved roof. Before her astonished gaze, hitherto concealed doors in two pillars opened and two security droids emerged.
They started attacking her at once. Jysella watched, trying to understand what she was seeing, as her other self batted back bolts so quickly her lightsaber was nothing more than a blue blur. Was this really her, or just her imagination? What was going on? From the entrance, the five apprentices she had seen half an hour before—had nodded to in greeting—came rushing in. One of them was shouting something into a comlink.
The other Jysella lunged forward and brought her lightsaber down on one of the security droids. It sliced clean through the metal and wires. She flipped just as the other droid was firing, executing a one-handed cartwheel and lashing out with her lightsaber.
This droid, too, was disabled, slowing to a halt, black smoke emanating from it. By then the other Jysella was on her feet, and the apprentices were on her.
She watched, amazed at her own courage and determination, as she fought wildly. She did not escape unscathed. One blow dragged across her cheek, searing in a black burn. Another blow nearly severed her left arm.
Still, the other Jysella fought on. One by one, she slew them, dropping the false apprentices until there were none left. She did not mourn them; they were not really apprentices, simply more imposters. In agony, she stepped quickly over the bodies and made for the doors.
Jysella cried out as she watched what happened next.
So close—she was so close to making it. But even as the other