Star Wars_ I, Jedi - Michael A. Stackpole [150]
The taller man shook his head.
“Remart.” I smiled as I took a step toward him. “He couldn’t think of a stupider name.”
Because of the Force, I knew Remart’s right fist was coming even before he knew he was going to throw it. I twisted slightly to my own right and brought my head around so the punch didn’t land with full impact. I still felt it—it worked my jaw around good—but it didn’t drop me to the floor the way it should have.
I turned my head slowly back toward him and smiled. “By the Emperor’s black bones, you hit like a Chadra-Fan. No report, this time.” I waved him away contemptuously and started back toward my table. “Come back some other time after you learn how to throw a punch.”
I felt him coming at my back, so I turned quickly to the right and stepped laterally toward him, directly along his line of attack. I hit him with a stiffened finger-blow square in the throat. He gurgled and staggered back, more surprised than hurt, and struggled to stay up on his feet. He backed a few more steps, then leaned heavily on a table with two other Bolt pilots seated at it.
I noted, with satisfaction, that they sidled away from him.
I pointed at him. “I gave you one punch for free. Never again. You leave me and the rest of Rock Squadron alone. You aren’t part of it anymore, so what we do is of no concern to you. You say anything to my people—beyond asking permission to get your disgusting form out of their sight—and we’ll have it out, you and I. You understand that?”
Without waiting for an answer, I looked at the other two Bolts at that table: “Get him out of here—I’ve got your tab—and tell Captain Gurtt I’ll speak with her on this matter at her convenience.”
I returned to my chair and pulled it back up to the table. I picked up my ale mug, drank, then kept it in front of my mouth as I glanced at Caet. “Hope you didn’t find that embarrassing. I know you could have taken him.”
The white Shistavanen shook her head and one of her ears rotated in my direction. “Gallant. Grateful.” I noticed the fiberplast table had little curls of material where her claws had gouged parallel furrows down to the edge. “Old foe, never learned ‘no.’ ”
I nodded and drank some more, killing the dryness in my mouth and throat. “I’m surprised you voted him into the Bolts.”
“Couldn’t kill him, so we got him out that way.” Caet regarded me carefully. “He was a bully and animal. Kech was afraid. Remart wanted fame, money, power. He was good pilot so didn’t die. Good enough for Bolts, so we sent him.”
I lowered my mug. “His coming back here to pick on you means the Bolts aren’t putting up with his antics. Why did he come for you?”
She glanced down and a low growl rolled from her throat.
I raised my left hand. “S’okay, I don’t need to know.”
Caet stood and pulled her cloak on. “Walk.”
“As ordered.” I drained my ale, then walked over to Timmser and handed her a stack of mismatched coins. “You get my tab, the Bolts’ tab and one round for the Rocks, right?”
“I copy.” Timmser gave me a quick smile. “Nice work there, Jen.”
“Don’t try to repeat it.” I winked at her. “And three flight will be at the training center at dawn, and you’ll have my change.”
I followed Caet out into the cool night and we began wandering aimlessly, though the growl in my stomach told me I’d want some food soon. “Nice night, isn’t it?”
She nodded and peered off at the dueling crescent moons. “Peace. Nice to know peace some.”
“I’d like to hope, someday, there will be more peace than war in the galaxy.”
“With that dream, you are in wrong place.” Her lips peeled back in a grin, flashing lots of white teeth. “No peace from Remart.”
I shrugged. “He’s sneaky and, deep down, a coward. I’m not worried about him, though.”
“He came for me because he broke me.” Caet fell silent after that admission and I thought she’d used up her quota of words for the day. I let the silence hang between us, not