Star Wars_ The Dark Lord Trilogy - James Luceno [111]
The speed of the train saw to the rest, ultimately whisking the droids into the canyon like insects blown from the windscreen of a speeder bike.
The loss of his confederates was noted by whatever computers were slaved to Grievous’s organic brain, but the loss neither distracted nor slowed him. His sole setting was attack. Successful at analyzing Mace’s lightsaber style, those same computers suggested that Grievous alter his stance and posture, along with the angle of his parries, ripostes, and thrusts.
The result wasn’t Vaapad, but it was close enough, and Mace wasn’t interested in prolonging the contest any longer than necessary.
Crouching low, he angled the blade downward and slashed, guiding it through the roof of the car, perpendicular to Grievous’s stalwart advance. Mace saw by the surprised look in the cyborg’s reptilian eyes that, for all his strength, dexterity, and resolve, the living part of him wasn’t always in perfect sync with his alloy servos. Clearly, Grievous—onetime courageous commander of sentient troops—realized what Mace had done and wanted to sidestep, where General Grievous—current commander of droids and other war machines—wanted nothing more than to impale Mace with lunging thrusts of the paired blades.
Slipping into the gap made by Mace’s saber, Grievous’s left talon lost magnetic purchase on the roof, and the general faltered. Mace came out of his crouch prepared to drive his sword into Grievous’s guts, but some last-instant firing of the general’s cybersynapses compelled the cyborg’s torso through a swift half twist that would have sent Mace’s head hurtling into the canyon had the maneuver prevailed. Instead Mace leapt backward, out of the range of the slicing blades, and Force-pushed outward, just at the instant of Grievous’s single misstep.
Off the side of the car the general went, twisting and turning as he fell, Mace trying to track the general’s contorted plunge, but unsuccessfully.
Had he fallen into the canyon? Had he managed to dig his duranium claws into the side of the car or grab hold of the maglev rail itself?
Mace couldn’t take the time to puzzle it out. One hundred meters away, the gunboat retracted its landing gear and rose from the roof on repulsorlift power. Reckless shots from one of the pursuing gunships obliged the Separatist craft to skew, then dive, with the gunship following close behind.
Mace and Kit watched in awe as the two ships began to helix forward around the speeding mag-lev, exchanging constant fire. Climbing away from the train’s sharp nose, within which the magnetic controls were housed, the gunboat made as if to bank west, only to bank east at the last instant.
By then, however, the gunship—leading its target west—had already fired.
Drilled by a swarm of deadly hyphens, the mag-lev’s control system blew apart, and the entire train began to drop.
In the darkness, buried alive, Anakin stretched out with his feelings.
In his mind’s eye he saw Padmé stalked by a dark, towering creature with a mechanical head, poised at the edge of a deep abyss, her world turned upside down. A surprise attack. Opponents locked in combat. Ground and sky filled with fire, smoke billowing in the air, clouding everything.
Death, destruction, deceit … A labyrinth of lies. His world turned upside down.
He shuddered, as if plunged into liquid gas. One touch would break him into a million shards.
His fear for Padmé expanded until he couldn’t see past it. Yoda’s voice in his ear: Fear leads to anger; anger to hated; hatred to the dark side …
He was as afraid to lose her as he was to hold on to her, and the pain of that contradiction made him wish he had never been born. There was no solace, even in the Force. As Qui-Gon had told