Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 08_ Ascension - Christie Golden [160]
Vestara noted all this in the space of half a heartbeat as it descended on them. Four of its six arms, each ending in a hook, reached out to swipe at them while the hideous head darted with shocking speed toward—
“Ben!” Vestara cried. Ben dived away as the mandibles scraped at his mask, rolling on the cave floor and coming up fighting. The instant he moved, Vestara laid into the creature, her red blade sizzling as it bit into the hard substance that protected its body. Natua Wan charged at it as well, and the two women moved swiftly so that the creature was being attacked on two sides.
One of the tail pincers snapped at Natua, taking a huge chunk out of her leg. The Falleen hissed in pain but faltered only a little, renewing her attack while Ben dived at the creature from behind. It let out a terrible, screeching wail as Ben’s lightsaber struck at the pincer, burning and blunting it but doing far less damage than it should have, and then whirled to again target the young Jedi. Their blades seemed to have only minimal effect. When the lightsabers struck the creature, their glow dimmed, somehow, as if the thing was draining energy from the blades.
Vestara extended a hand, trying to Force-shove the creature away from Ben. To her astonishment, the creature merely stumbled a little and continued its onslaught. Ben grunted in pain as slaver splashed down on his arm, burning it like acid.
Vestara felt a wave of pain at Ben’s injury—a deep, dull ache in her chest—and growled furiously as she charged forward, her lightsaber almost musical, singing an angry song—
—singing—
The realization struck her so hard she stumbled and lost a precious second. How had they been so stupid!
She knew what the monstrosity before them had to be. They had been unbelievably, unforgivably complacent to think that simply because nothing had been recorded about these tunnels and what dwelled within them, there was nothing they needed to fear.
The monster that had come out of the shadows—which was now attacking Ben—was a mutated rhak-skuri.
Once it had been only a few millimeters in length, a harmless, natural being, but centuries of exposure to the Sith and the energy of dark-side rituals—and quite possibly deliberate alchemical efforts—had transformed it.
“Rhak-skuri!” she shouted. “Come for me!”
It knew its name.
It paused, ever so briefly, in its assault on Ben, whirling to stare at her with its glowing, multiple eyes, its antennae waving as if in agitation—or pleasure. It Force-shoved Ben and Natua back without removing its attention from Vestara, and for a second she felt heavy and sluggish.
… Ssssssiiithhh …
The word, spoken in her mind, was like a cold hand clamping down on Vestara’s heart.
No. She wasn’t a Sith, not anymore, she—
… Ssssssiiithhh …
It was not harming her, and without knowing how she knew, she understood what it wanted.
It had gone from a simple insect to this monstrous entity over centuries. By exposure to the dark side; by honoring rituals in which it had been encouraged to unleash nightmares. And it had learned not to give without taking.
Somehow she understood that it would not harm her. She was Sith. She was one of the things-that-make, and long, long had it been since the Dream Singer had encountered the Makers. But it needed a sacrifice.
It would feed, and remain strong, and serve the dark side.
As would she.
No! Vestara summoned all her energy and renewed her attack. She realized suddenly that only two were attacking the Dream Singer—herself, and Natua.
Ben stood stock-still, ignoring the acid eating into his arm, his eyes wide, his mouth open—
—his mouth—
Vestara realized with a shock of horror that Ben’s mask had been ripped away by the rhak-skuri’s last attack. He had inadvertently inhaled the pheromones and was now experiencing horrors that even she could not imagine.
And she understood just how the rhak-skuri fed.
It was a living being. It would