Star Wars_ The Dark Lord Trilogy - James Luceno [308]
With a whirling motion Chatak got far enough inside Vader’s long reach to inflict a forearm wound. But Vader scarcely reacted to the hit, and instead of seeing cauterized flesh Shryne saw sparks and smoke fountain through Vader’s slashed glove.
Then he lost sight of them again.
Wedged into the crowd, he wondered if he could use the Force to call one of the trooper’s blaster rifles into his grip. At the same time he hoped that Starstone had abandoned her lightsaber at the landing platform, and wouldn’t attempt to join her Master against Vader.
We need to learn what happened to the Jedi, he tried to send to her. Our time for dealing with Vader will come. Be patient.
He wondered if he was right. Maybe he should attempt to reach Chatak, weapon or no. Maybe his life was meant to end here, on Murkhana.
He looked to the Force for guidance, and the Force restrained him.
A pained cry cut through the chaos, and the crowd of prisoners parted just long enough for Shryne to see Chatak down on her knees in front of Vader, her sword arm amputated at the elbow. Vader had simply beaten her into submission, and now, with a flick of his bloodshine blade, he decapitated her.
Sorrow lanced Shryne’s heart.
Unreadable behind his mask, Vader gazed down at Chatak’s slack body.
The clone troopers relaxed the cordon somewhat, allowing the prisoners to spread out. And the moment they did, Vader began to scan faces in the crowd.
There were techniques for concealing one’s Force abilities, and Shryne employed them. He also prepared for the possibility that he could be found out. But Vader’s black gaze moved right past him. Instead, it appeared to focus on Olee Starstone.
Vader took a step in her direction.
Now I have no choice, Shryne thought.
He was ready to lunge when a shock trooper called to Vader, reporting that the commandos had been captured. Vader stopped in his tracks, glancing in Starstone’s direction before turning to Salvo.
“Commander, see to it that the prisoners are loaded into the transport.” Again, Vader scanned the crowd. “A less accommodating dungeon awaits them on Agon Nine.”
Vader had no sooner turned his back to the prisoners than Shryne was in motion, edging, elbowing, shouldering his way through the crowd to Starstone, whose narrow shoulders heaved as she attempted to suppress her grief at her Master’s death. Realizing Shryne was at her side, she turned into his comforting but brief embrace.
“Your Master is with the Force,” he told her. “Rejoice for that.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why didn’t you help her?”
“I thought we’d agreed to abandon our lightsabers.”
She nodded. “I abandoned mine. But you could have done something.”
“You’re right. Maybe I should have challenged ‘Lord Vader’ to a fistfight.” Shryne’s nostrils flared. “Your Master reacted in anger and in vengeance. She would have been more use to us alive.”
Starstone reacted as if she had been slapped. “That’s a heartless remark.”
“Don’t confuse emotion with truth. Even if Bol Chatak had defeated Vader, she would have been killed.”
Starstone gestured vaguely in Vader’s direction. “But that monster would be dead.”
Shryne held her accusing gaze. “Vengeance isn’t becoming in a Jedi, Padawan. Your Master died for nothing.”
The prisoners were on the move now, troopers herding them toward the boarding ramp of the military transport.
“Fall back,” Shryne said into Starstone’s ear.
The two of them slowed down, allowing other captives to maneuver around them.
“Who is Vader?” Starstone asked after a moment.
Shryne shook his head in ignorance. “That’s something we might be able to learn if we can remain alive.”
Starstone took her lower lip between