Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [130]
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re speaking from depression brought on by the changes to your situation. Hang on to what’s important to you, and your combative spirit, your survival instincts, will return.”
“Sure.”
From his pocket, Bwua’tu pulled a sheet of flimsi and unfolded it on the tabletop before him. “We need to discuss the appeals process. I know how I want to proceed, but you need to understand my tactics if you’re to enhance them and improve your odds of achieving freedom. Shall I proceed?”
“Please.”
Tahiri tried not to tune him out, but her mind would not fix firmly on his words. He spoke of the order of presentation of appeals, of unofficially seeking the aid of the Jedi Order, of convincing a documentarian doing a HoloNews series on irregularities in the court system to profile her—a measure that would exploit her appeal as well as give the public a better understanding of what had happened at her trial while their attention was on the loss of the Fireborn and on the Jedi takeover. She nodded and accepted each of his recommendations, barely retaining details from any of them.
Then she felt it, a tickle of alarm in the Force. Her eyes widened. “Eramuth, get down.”
He froze midsentence. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Danger. Get down!”
Spry for an elderly Bothan, he went to the floor.
To Tahiri’s right, a booth exploded. Noise hammered at her ears. Smoke roiled out from the destroyed booth. Droids standing well back from the booth on the secure side of the hall flew backward and smashed to the floor. Buffeted by the explosion’s shock wave, Tahiri and her chair tilted toward the near wall and crashed to the floor.
Siren whoops filled the air. Tahiri rolled up to her knees to look around.
A transparisteel panel from one of the booths was now angled into the secure area, leaving a gap beneath it, and Chief Daala was in the process of scrambling through that gap.
Tahiri’s eyes stayed wide. This was an escape.
She spared a glance for Bwua’tu. The attorney was scrambling to his feet, apparently unhurt.
She looked at the gap again. Daala was now through it, tumbling down to the floor on the far side, half masked by smoke from the explosion.
If this was an escape planned by Daala’s friends or subordinates, surely it wouldn’t end here. Surely the woman had a route out of the prison complex.
Tahiri glanced at Bwua’tu again. He was staring right at her. When she caught his eye, he shook his head. She didn’t have to tap into the Force to know what he was thinking. Don’t.
She sprinted toward Daala’s booth.
And fell on her face. The ankle cuffs—
Her own moment of forgetfulness saved her life. Blasterfire hammered into the booth viewport above her, heavy blasterfire from her YVH escort droid. The droid was not being careful of the lives of those near Tahiri—it sprayed her vicinity with blaster bolts irrespective of the other prisoners, who scrambled wildly to get clear of the danger.
Tahiri continued her forward fall into a roll. She suppressed an urge to call on the Force to speed her movements. The stun cuffs she wore, especially designed for Jedi, would detect the brain activity consistent with Force use in humans and shock her, depriving her completely of the ability to use the Force and probably of consciousness, as well. In fact, it would only be a matter of seconds before someone in a control chamber activated that shock anyway and she’d be helpless.
On the floor below Daala’s booth, Tahiri sprang upward, slithering through the gap far more gracefully than Daala had. She did not go down to the floor on the far side. She gripped the top of the booth on that side and let her feet hang below the lower lip of the bent transparisteel panel, bringing her ankles together.
The YVH droid switched its aim from the transparisteel to her feet. It was a sensible,