Crosscurrent (7 page)

The Massassi put the point of the lanvarok on Relin’s chest and pushed him up against the wall.

Relin understood then how things would go. He looked up and down the corridor, saw no one.

With his free hand, the Massassi pinched the comlink on his collar.

“This is Drophan, security detail five. I have a—”

“My superior is Memit Nadill,” Relin said.

“Go ahead, Drophan,” said the voice from the comlink.

But Relin’s words had creased the Massassi’s forehead and his fingers released the comlink. “Memit who? I do not know that name.”

“He is a Jedi Master on Kirrek.”

“A Jedi what?”

“Say again, Drophan. Your transmission fell off. Say again.”

Relin’s words finally penetrated the Massassi’s armor of incredulity and his yellow eyes widened. He leaned into his lanvarok as his hand went for his blaster.

Relin projected a telekinetic blast from his palm, pushed the Massassi across the corridor, and slammed him against the wall. The impact summoned a gasp of pain and sent the blaster to the floor. The Massassi ignored it, growled, and lunged for Relin with the lanvarok.

Relin ignited his lightsaber and the green blade met red flesh, severing an arm on the crosscut, then the head on the backswing. The Massassi’s corpse fell at Relin’s feet.

“Report, Drophan,” said the voice in the Massassi’s comlink.

Relin saw no point in hiding the body. They would know he was aboard soon enough. Deactivating his lightsaber, he sprinted down the hall. He decided to risk a communication.

“Drev?”

“It’s thick out here, Master. But I’m holding.”

Relin heard the tension in his Padawan’s voice. The rumble of a near miss carried through the connection, along with Drev’s grunt.

“It’s about to get thick in here, too,” Relin said. “Not much longer. Rely on the Force, Drev. And hang on.”

Saes stalked the bridge, the susurrant rush of his robes loud in the quiet. None of his crew met his eyes. On the viewscreen, the Jedi Infiltrator weaved and darted through space, upward of twelve Blades in pursuit. Laserfire crisscrossed the screen, a net of glowing lines. Frustrated comm chatter from the Blade pilots carried over the bridge speakers.

Saes used the dark side to probe the Infiltrator pilot’s connection to the Force and found him more of a potential than a fully realized Force-user, though he was an extraordinarily intuitive pilot.

He could not be alone.

As Saes watched, Blades came at the Infiltrator from two sides and the bottom, a claw encirclement.

“They have him now,” muttered a junior officer.

The Jedi cut hard to the left and engaged a booster, blasting one of the Blades from space as he did so, and gained some separation from the rest. Soft curses sounded from the bridge.

“He’s heading for another transport,” Dor observed.

The Infiltrator wheeled around and the transport pilot took evasive maneuvers but it was far too little. The Infiltrator’s lasers spat energy; the transport and its ore turned to dust.

Saes’s anger grew. He could not afford to lose any of his ore. Out of habit, he tapped his forefinger on the point of one of his jaw horns.

“Intensify scanning in system,” Dor ordered the helm. “This Jedi cannot be alone. More will be coming.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

Saes ground his fangs as the Infiltrator weaved out of another trap laid for him by the Blades. He glared at the weapons officer, a human male with gray at his temples and concern in his eyes.

“Can you get a lock?”

“No, Captain. The ship has some kind of sensor scrambler. We could blanket an area and bring him down even without a lock, but he’s too near our ships.”

Saes nodded. “Prepare a firing solution to provide a safe corridor for the transports. Transmit it to the Blades’ navicomps to keep them clear.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Saes turned to Dor. “End planetside operations.
Order every transport back to
Harbinger
and
Omen
. A firing corridor will be provided for them.”

“Yes, Captain,” said Dor with a nod, and began transmitting the orders.

“Firing solution ready, sir,” said the weapons officer.

“Fire,” Saes said.

Harbinger
’s laser cannons put a curtain of flames in space, dividing the Infiltrator and Blades from the transports. The transports took immediate advantage and sped for the landing bays.

“As soon as the transports are aboard, recall the Blades,” Saes said to Dor. To his weapons officer, he said, “Then you blow him from space.”

“What?” Dor said, and the exclamation turned heads on the bridge. For a moment, Saes thought Dor to be questioning his order, but he soon saw otherwise. The colonel tilted his head into his earpiece. As he listened, his skin turned a deeper red and his tentacle beard quivered with anger. “Double security around all sensitive areas. Establish search teams and comb the ship. Dor out.”

“What is it?” Saes asked.

Dor’s beard twitched as he leaned in close to Saes and spoke in a low tone. “The body of a security guard was found in the corridor off the landing bay. His arm and head were severed. It appears to have been the work of a lightsaber.”

Adrenaline fueled Saes’s pheromones, increasing their odor. “A lightsaber,” he muttered to himself. “Then the explosion in the bay was not an engine malfunction.”

“It appears not.”

“We have a Jedi aboard.”

A murmur went through the bridge crew. The smell of their sweat sweetened with excitement.

Dor tapped his palm on the hilt of the lanvarok he
wore even on bridge duty. “If these Jedi are a vanguard for a larger force …”

Saes nodded. He could not take the chance. Sadow would be displeased with a delay in the delivery of the Lignan. To the helmsman, he said, “Move us out of the planet’s gravity well and prepare the ship for hyperspace. Plot a route to Primus Goluud and jump as soon as all our ships are back aboard.” To Dor, he said, “You have the bridge.”

Dor nodded. “Yes, sir. What are you going to do?”

Saes put his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. “I am going to retrieve my mask and find our stowaway. A captured Jedi would make a nice gift to accompany the Lignan for Master Sadow.”

Relin felt the mental fingers of his onetime Padawan and knew that the dead Massassi’s body had been found. Saes was searching for him. Relin resisted the impulse to lower his mental screen and reveal himself. He needed to accomplish his mission, not correct a past wrong.

He hurried through the maze of corridors, using the Force on groups of two or three crew to remove himself from their perception. The crew of
Harbinger
was on alert, searching for him, and Relin found it increasingly taxing to render himself hidden from them.

Ahead, he heard the heavy tread of boots and the booming bass voices of several Massassi. From the sound of it, he put their numbers at six or seven. Given their alert status and attunement to the dark side, he would not be able to use the Force to hide from them. He checked one of the nearby hatches, found it locked, checked another, found that locked, too.

The voices drew closer. He could not make out their words. They were speaking their native language.

He pulled an overrider—an electronic lockpick—from his suit and attached it to the nearest door’s control
panel. Lights flashed as the equipment interfaced and the overrider tried to find the door’s open code. The Massassi were around the corner. Relin would not get clear in time. He took his lightsaber in hand and ignited it.

The Massassi fell silent. They must have heard him activate his lightsaber.

The overrider flashed green and the door opened with a metallic hiss. Moving quickly, he detached the overrider and slid inside as the Massassi rounded the corner.

A meeting room. A large table surrounded by chairs and dotted with three comp stations sat centermost. A vidscreen, powered down, took up one wall. Transparisteel windows made up the bulkhead, allowing a view of the system outside.

He crouched with his ear to the door, listening to the voices of the Massassi. They sounded like they were right outside, separated from him only by a thin layer of metal, talking in hushed tones. He winced as his comlink activated and Drev spoke.

“The transports are returning to the landing bay and both dreadnoughts are moving, Master.”

Relin heard laserfire in the background of Drev’s transmission, but his mind was on the Massassi in the corridor outside.

“Stand by,” he whispered. “Stand by.”

The voices outside went silent. Had they heard Drev? A human would not have been able to hear the comlink transmission, but Massassi had keener senses than humans. Relin sat behind the door, lightsaber humming in his hand, the calm of the Force in his heart, waiting, waiting …

Nothing.

He glanced back out of the meeting room windows to see the background of stars shifting slightly as the ship moved away from Phaegon III and its gravity well.

“They are preparing to jump,” he said to Drev. He had to get to the hyperdrive, and now.

“Get off that ship, Master, or you’ll go with them.”

“There is still time.” He pushed the button to open the hatch. “I’m near the hyperdrive chamber and—”

He found himself staring at the uniformed chest of a Massassi security officer, who held his lanvarok in one hand. The bone spurs and studs under the Massassi’s red flesh gave it a tumorous appearance.

“Here!” the Massassi shouted down the hall. Roaring, he swung his lanvarok in a downstroke for Relin’s head, but Relin sidestepped the blow and it slammed into the deck while Relin drove his lightsaber through the Massassi’s abdomen. The Massassi groaned, dropped his weapon. His clawed hands groped reflexively for Relin’s throat as he died.

Shouts from down the hall told Relin the dead Massassi’s comrades had heard his call. He took a thermal grenade from his flexsuit, stepped out of the room, and tossed it down the corridor at the onrushing Massassi, each with a blaster and lanvarok bare. Recognition of what he had thrown widened their eyes and they dived for cover, but not before one of them got off a blaster shot.

Relin deflected it with his lightsaber and ducked back into the room he had vacated as the grenade exploded.

Flames bathed the corridor in orange. The Massassi’s screams were lost in the explosion and the shock wave rattled Relin’s teeth. Alarms shrieked, and fire foam hissed out of valves in the ceiling.

Relin heard shouts from the other direction and the stomp of many boots. The ship’s entire security force would be coming. As would Saes. He had to move.

He drew his blaster with his off hand and pelted down the hall, past the bodies of the Massassi, toward the hyperdrive chamber. The time for stealth was past.

A pair of Massassi appeared in the hallway before him, both with blasters drawn. Before they could shoot, Relin dropped one with a shot from his own blaster, opening a smoking hole in the Massassi’s black uniform and sending the insignia of rank on his chest skittering across the floor. The second Massassi fired his blaster rapidly while shouting for aid and backing away.

Relin closed the distance, deflecting the blaster shots with his lightsaber as he ran, leaving a trail of scorch marks in his wake along the wall and ceiling. At five paces the Massassi tried to draw his lanvarok, but Relin lunged forward and was upon him too fast. The clean hum of his lightsaber gave way to a muffled sizzle as he cut the Massassi in two.

He did not slow, could not slow. Shouts told him that pursuit was right behind him. Alarms were sounding all over the ship. When he reached a thick blast door, an idea struck him and he drove his lightsaber’s tip into the control panel. The circuitry expired with smoke and sparks and the blast door descended with a boom. He assumed his pursuers would be able to go around, but it might buy him a few extra moments.

Drawing on the Force, he enhanced his speed and ran in a blur for the hyperdrive chamber.

The young helmsman did not look up from his screen as he spoke to Dor. “Colonel, we are clear of the gravity well. System scans show no additional Jedi ships.”

Dor nodded. “Begin the jump sequence.”

As the helmsman obeyed, the weapons officer said, “All Blades are returned to the ship, Colonel Dor.”

Dor heard the question hiding behind the comment. “The Infiltrator remains in range?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

Dor stroked the tentacles of his beard. “You have until we jump to destroy it.”

The helm recited the jump sequence countdown. The weapons officer gave the order to the gun crews to fire at will.

Eight Massassi warriors armed with blaster rifles and lanvaroks loitered in the large open room adjacent to the hyperdrive chamber. The quills, lumps, and scars that scored their red flesh made them look deformed.

Relin slowed only long enough to count their numbers and ensure there were no others. He did not bother to hide himself. They were too alert for that. They saw him, pointed, showed their teeth in a growl. Six pulled their blaster rifles to their shoulders to fire while another spoke into his comlink and the last headed for a wall-mounted alarm.

Without breaking stride, Relin held up a hand, took telekinetic hold of the blaster rifles aimed at him, ripped them from the Massassi’s hands, and flung them across the large chamber. One fired when it hit the deck, and the shot blew the booted foot from one of the Massassi. He fell to the floor, cursing in his language, the ruins of his ankle leaking black fluid.

Relin fired his blaster and put a fist-sized hole in the back of the skull of the Massassi about to push the wall alarm. Black blood and brain matter splattered the wall as the body slid to the floor.

“Run,” he said to the remaining Massassi.

The six still standing grinned mouthfuls of sharp teeth—the teeth of predators—and drew their lanvaroks, spun them with skill until they hummed. Relin knew what was coming next. He would have to take care that his suit did not get damaged.

As one, the Massassi jerked back on their lanvaroks. A shower of the sharpened disks attached to the haft, each a few centimeters across, sprayed at Relin. Ready for it, he used the Force to augment an upward leap over
the projectiles and reached almost all the way to the ceiling, ten meters up. All but one of the disks flew harmlessly under him. The last scored his forearm, but it was little more than a scratch and did not seem to penetrate his suit.