“I don’t think so,” Luke said, trying to sound more confident than be felt. With five-six; now-blasters trained on him, it was going to be a race to see whether be could get his lightsaber out fast enough to deflect the shots that would be coming his direction the instant he made a move toward the weapon.
But there was the slideway two steps to his left. One section in each direction; both moving at reasonably high speed. “We’re wasting time,” one of the other men spat “Burn him and let’s-“
And in that instant, in the middle of the sentence, the child moved.
It was so quiet and so smooth that at first Luke didn’t realize what was happening. The child rotated out of his panicked death rip on the old woman toward the nearest of the knife-wielding assailants, one arm swinging across the man like a stylized slap cross his chest that fell short of its intended mark. The arm movement seemed to deflect the child like a ricocheted stone toward the second assailant; the slapping movement again, and he was now winging toward the third man&mdash
And with a gurgling gasp, the first man collapsed into a heap on the ground.
Someone swore with startled viciousness, the blasters pointed at Luke wavering as sudden confusion intruded on what had two seconds earlier been a solidly secure situation. Heads turned back toward the child and his grandmother&mdash
And then the second man crumpled, and the third man started to do the same, his knife now inexplicably in the child’s hand. But only briefly; an instant later, with an abbreviated flick of the wrist, the knife flashed across the short distance to bury itself in the chest of one of the other assailants.
And as it did so, the hood fell back far enough to finally expose the child’s face.
It wasn’t a child beneath that cloak. It was a Noghri.
That single glance was the last clear view any of them had of the he alien. For some, it was the last clear view of anything they would ever have. Even as Luke grabbed for his lightsaber the Noghri became a blur of motion: diving, rolling, slashing with blades now in both hands, evading the frantic sputtering of blaster shots with casual ease. A grenade clattered to the walkway at the old woman’s feet, vanished as Luke reached out through the Force to maneuver it through the gap between guardwall and roof and, send it hurling straight up.
By the time it exploded harmlessly far above them, the battle was over.
“Master Skywalker,” the Noghri said, nodding gravely from the center of the carnage as be slid his two assassin’s knives back to concealment. “I am honored by your presence, and grateful for your assistance.”
“Such as it was,” Luke said, shaking his bead in astonishment. seen Noghri in training and practice combat and had thought knew the limits of their fighting skills. He hadn’t even been close. “Somehow, I think you would have managed quite well without me.” “Your pardon, but that is not true,” the Noghri demurred, stepping over the bodies and coming over to him. “Your distraction was most timely, allowing me nearly four extra seconds I would otherwise not have bad.”
“Not to mention the grenade,” the old woman added. She had crouched down beside one of the dead and was going through his pockets with practiced fingers. “If not for your quick action, we would all have been killed. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Luke said, eyeing her with growing doubts she finished her search and moved on to the next body. A Noghri warrior and a woman with the expertise of a professional pickpocket were not exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d come leaping to the rescue. “May I ask who you are?”
“Not who you’re probably afraid I am,” the woman said, pausing in her search to flash him a smile. “It’s really quite honest and mostly respectable. My name is Moranda Savich; Plakhmirakh here is currently attached to me as my bodyguard. We work for an acquaintance of yours: Talon Karrde.”
“Really,” Luke said. “Oddly enough, I was just thinking out trying to make contact with Karrde.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Moranda said, straightening up. “He’s just arrived on Cejansij.”
“You’re joking,” Luke said, frowning. “What’s he doing here?”
“Who ever knows what Karrde’s doing anywhere?” Moranda interred philosophically. “Why don’t you come along and ask him yourself?”
Luke looked down through the guardwall at the city lights below. Once again, he’d managed to be in the right place at the right time. The Force was indeed with him. “Thank you,” he said to Moranda. “I believe I will.”