Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [21]
Resolved to find a good place for an ambush, Vestara turned her gaze up the slope again and found a large, gray-green blossom hanging in front of her. It had no stamen or pistil, just a long tubular anther filled with a fine, rust-colored pollen.
“Ah, shrak!”
Vestara planted her heels and tried to whirl away, squeezing her eyes shut, but she was too late. There was already a spasm rolling up the anther, and a cloud of crimson pollen exploded into her face, filling her eyes with bright stinging pain. Her vision blossomed into flame-colored blindness. Knowing that to remain motionless was to die—no doubt slowly and painfully—she continued her spin and Force-leapt blindly away.
Whether she had turned across the slope or down it, Vestara had no idea—and she was never going to find out. She was still in the air when she slammed into a snarl of vines and simply hung there, bouncing. Thinking she had just gotten tangled, she reached for her lightsaber—then felt a vine tighten around her wrist and pull it away from her body. She tried to jerk free, but the vine was secured to her sleeve by a potent, sweet-smelling resin. When she grabbed it with the Force, its grasp grew tighter, stretching her arm out straight, pulling so hard that she feared her shoulder would pop out of its joint.
Vestara tried to blink her vision clear and succeeded only in coating her eyes with resin and making them sting even worse. She pulled her other arm from its sling and began to inch her hand toward her parang, trying to move slowly enough to avoid triggering another attack.
Something woody and sinuous slid up the inside of her arm and began to apply pressure in the opposite direction. Vestara’s heart began to hammer inside her chest, her breath coming in short gasps of panic. Another vine slithered up her leg, then twined itself around her torso and began to squeeze. Her thoughts began to whirl through her mind in a wild cyclone of anger and terror. After surviving so much on this world—attacks by carnivorous plants, Abeloth’s manipulations, being marooned with no hope of rescue—the thought of returning to it had filled Vestara’s heart with dread. But she had returned, because Lord Taalon had commanded it, and here she was again, blind and bound and about to become dinner for a tree.
“I … really … hate … this planet.”
Vestara grabbed her lightsaber in the Force and slipped it off its belt hook. The last thing she needed was for Ben to find her like this, and not only because she would be at his mercy. He had a bad habit of thinking he was saving her life, which usually manifested itself in a cocky grin that suggested he expected something in return—like maybe being honest or not betraying him when the chance came. She floated her lightsaber off to the side until it was several meters away, then depressed the activation switch.
The weapon came to life, emitting the familiar drone-and-crackle of a power supply focused through one of the Lost Tribe’s efficient Lignan crystals. Directing the blade by its sound, she slashed through the vines above her head and adjacent to her. Instead of dropping to the ground, Vestara tumbled away head-over-heels and found herself hanging upside down, caught now by her ankles and one arm. She used the Force to bring the lightsaber around above her feet.
Her legs quickly fell free and swung down until they were even with her head. Now she was hanging parallel to the ground, caught only by her waist and one arm. Believing she just might spare herself the embarrassment of being rescued by her Jedi rival, she floated the lightsaber into her free hand so she could cut more accurately, then twisted her body around, reaching up above her waist.
“Stop!”
Ben, of course. Vestara dropped her chin in frustration, then slashed through a vine. Her feet swung down just as she had expected, but