[Legacy Of The Force] - 07(31)
But he was still the best lightsaber swordsman around-excepting possibly Luke, perhaps the best there ever had been.
Caedus waited until the timing was perfect, waited until an incoming bolt arrived at the same moment as one of Mithric’s attacks so he could devote a single maneuver to both. He caught Mithric’s blow toward the hilt of his lightsaber. He caught the bolt near the tip, deflecting it up and straight into Mithric’s chest.
Mithric staggered back, the center of his chest blackened, as the smell of burned skin and meat filled the air. Caedus leapt up and executed a single, precise lateral blow.
Mithric’s head fell from his shoulders. His body toppled down half a second later.
Caedus and Horn spun to face each other. An expression of sadness crossed Horn’s face, but his dismay did not distract him. He caught three more blaster bolts with his lightsaber blade without looking at their firers.
Caedus gestured toward his troopers, signaling them to cease fire. They did; now the only ranged fire to be heard came from the speeders, still chewing the shuttle to pieces.
Caedus flexed his injured leg experimentally and decided it was not too bad. It would take his weight and allow him some footwork. He gestured toward Horn. “You going to try this alone?”
Horn shook his head.
Caedus smiled. “You’re a fraction of the man your father is.”
“Funny. That’s what I was going to say to you.” Horn seemed to blur as he dashed toward the shuttle, his sprinting speed augmented by the Force.
“Don’t be an idiot! That thing will never take off again.”
Caedus left off his harangue as Horn ran up the side ramp where the Bothan had disappeared moments before.
No matter. The shuttle would not take off; Horn or Hu’lya, or both, would be captured, and after a lengthy enough interrogation, Caedus would know where Luke and the Jedi were now hiding.
He bent over to pick up Mithric’s head by its ponytail. The Falleen’s eyes were still open, staring forward, eerily lifelike, but his skin color had gone to gray. Caedus dropped the head and looked around.
Where was Katarn?
The door slid open and Allana saw Jacen filling the doorway. He was sweaty but calm.
She wasn’t sure why, but the first thing she said was, “You’re hurt.”
He nodded, unconcerned, and entered. “A little bit. Nothing important. I put a bandage on it.”
“What happened?”
“Well, when Why-Vee was taking you out of the speeder, bad people showed up to try to take you away from me.”
Uncomfortable, she fidgeted. “I don’t like riding around in the box.”
“It helps keep people from seeing you. That way it’s harder for them to figure out where you are, harder for them to try to take you. Is it uncomfortable?”
“Not really.” In fact, it had a miniature cooling unit that kept the air fresh and clean, and she had her datapad in it. And Why-Vee, though he was dull and didn’t know any games-except Shoot the Scarhead, which he wouldn’t tell her how to play-carried it in a very smooth ride. But it was cramped. She couldn’t stand up or move around in it. “I just don’t like it.”
“Well, this morning was just a test. Most places, we’ll be able to drive right into a building in the speeder and not worry about the crate. But you’ll still have to use it sometimes.”
She knew her voice sounded glum. “All right.” She looked at him, waiting again for him to say the special words, but he didn’t.
He did have other special words, though. “I love you, Allana.”
“I love you, too. But I miss Mommy.”
“So do I.” His voice turned sad. “So do I.”
SANCTUARY MOON OF ENDOR, JEDI OUTPOST
The thorns dug deeper into Ben’s cheek, pressing against him in the fevered way the creations of the Yuuzhan Vong had when inflicting pain, and he could feel them injecting their venom. His cheek swelled, and kept swelling. He could feel the skin growing taut, the tissues beneath it beginning to rip, his nerves screaming…
And so he knew it was a dream. He was gone from the Anakin Solo, out of the Embrace of Pain, away from Jacen and his tortures. It was over.
He didn’t wake up immediately, but the dream ended there, with his realization. The vine had no more power over him. It went limp and still. His cheek ceased to hurt. A moment later he realized that he was growing impatient, bored, and it was then that he opened his eyes.
Actually, his cheek did hurt, just a little, and was still slightly swollen. He rubbed it as he stared around.
His “room” had once been a walk-in wardrobe belonging to the commander of this outpost, and as such it was large enough for the military cot, small table, and chair that had been brought in as his personal furniture. It wasn’t much of a room, but it was better than most of the Jedi here received.