Legends of Darkover

Chapter 11

-oOo-

“Mr. Chekov, short warp out to the farthest limits of transporter range.  We need more response time.”  Uhura opened the ship-wide frequency.  “This is Lieutenant Uhura.  Send all damage and injury reports.”  She was hoping there wouldn't be any, since the shields had held--barely. 

The engines thrust, and the Enterprise leapt to a safer clime.  When they dropped out of warp seconds later, they were a good planet-length away from the Raptor.  Uhura hoped it would be enough. 

Sulu ran a fast calculation.  “Lieutenant,” he said over his shoulder, “Our shields are down to twenty-three percent power.  If we're hit by one more set of torpedoes, we've had it.”

“That's nice to know, Mr. Sulu,” replied Uhura dryly.  “Our tactics are shoot them before they hit us, warp if we miss.”

Chekov muttered something in Russian. 

“Remaining phaser power eighty percent,” said Sulu.

“Noted,” replied Uhura.  She glanced aside.  Lord Ardais had lost his footing during the fast maneuvering.  “Are you injured?” she asked.   /Captains have to say these things,/ she reflected.

He was sitting on the deck, glaring at the matrix in his hand.  “No.  I've found them.  Regis is with Danilo and Catriona.  Their location is A1-AS2.  Call your captain.”

-oOo-

Obi-wan was taking his Master's orders seriously after his embarrassed confession that he'd lost Regis.  He tore along B-level, disjointing droids like insects with his lightsaber.  The apprentice also surprised the occasional living crew member but cut them down before they could react.  He took a second to arm himself with a purloined blaster.

Fighting his Master's own Master was going to be difficult even for a Jedi of his confidence. 

He scouted closer, trying to make out exactly where Tyranus was.  Someone ran across the hall into a set of doors, and Obi-wan glimpsed consoles with seated crew and heard urgent voices.  This must be the backup command post. 

He opened his comlink and considered asking Qui-gon for advice, though if his Master was in the middle of a fight he would not appreciate the interruption.  Jedi apprentices were supposed to be self-willed and self-reliant, able to choose targets with good judgment and destroy them without any hand-holding on the part of their masters. 

Still, Darth Tyranus more of a challenge than usual, and there was the annoying fact that Obi-wan had no idea what the shielding console looked like.

“'Remember our journey?'  What in Force's name does that mean?” said Obi-wan, trying to decipher his Master's hint.  Qui-gon had a bad habit of being oh-so-mystical Jedi at times when Obi-wan yearned for a little more detail. 

/Journey?  What in Force's name happened during our journey?  Absolutely nothing, except--/

Obi-wan blinked.  Now that he thought about it, Qui-gon's suggestion was a very good one, if rather unorthodox.  Taking a few deep breaths for the oxygen build-up, he concentrated on the phrase 'shielding console—identification thereof,' and started his rush.

This ended with a loud, echoing bang and a painful bloody nose, a truly embarrassing end to his blitzkrieg. 

Some son-of-a-Gungan had locked the doors.  Of course, Jedi apprentices were supposed to check these things out first.  Afraid the sound had been overheard, Obi-wan shoved the doors open with a Force-push and rushed inside. 

-oOo-

“Retrieve the crystals,” said Regis to Danilo.  Glancing about for danger, Danilo quickly brought them back. 

“Please clear them, Domna Catriona.  I can't do it myself at the moment.”

“I must treat your hand first,” she protested.

“Clear the crystals!”  said Regis with desperation.  “They're far more important than my hand.”

“I've never worked with such strange matrices,” Catriona replied, “but I will try.  I warn you, as their owner had such a violent death they might not clear properly, and may retain some of his disgusting personality.  These are still glowing despite his death, and they should not.”

“What do you intend to do?” Danilo asked.  Catriona had drawn out her own matrix to match resonances with the crystals.  Gradually, the orange glow began to fade. 

“I'm going to key them to me,” explained Regis. 

“What for?” 

“If they're keyed, I think I can use this lightsaber.”

“What?!” Danilo exclaimed.  “Regis, you're wounded.  You CANNOT fight with it.”

“I only need one hand,” Regis retorted.  “Why do you think I held the crystals in my left?  It was to spare my right.”

“No,” said Catriona firmly.  “You should not attempt it with an injury so severe.”

-Give them to me,- whispered Danilo to Catriona.  -I must stop Regis.- He began to match resonances with her.  The crystals began to glow orange again.  Danilo lifted them out of Catriona's hand, staring into their depths.

“What are you doing?” Regis blurted.

“I've keyed them to me,” Danilo said.  “Give me the lightsaber.”

“Part of that Sith's mind remains!” said Catriona urgently.  “Don't do this thing!” 

Resignedly, Regis held out the lightsaber, showing his paxman how to replace the crystals.  “We need another weapon against the Sith.  You saw him deflect our blaster shots.”

Quickly, Danilo shut the housing and turned the lightsaber on.  The humming lance shot out and promptly turned from red to blue, then to a dull, purple-black. 

“Can you control it?” Regis asked urgently.

Danilo's face screwed up as he tried to manuver the weapon.  “It's—hard.  It's like the air has become solid around it.  Either that, or the lightsaber itself is fighting me.”

“I suspect it must be the latter,” said Catriona.

As Danilo struggled, they all noticed the murky color turn more blue, then change to purple again.  Danilo grunted with effort, trying a few more futile swings.  He shut the weapon off with a wordless noise of frustration.  “It seems not,” he admitted. 

“Just as well,” said Catriona.  “It has an evil feeling.  Regis?  Which way must we go?”

“Wait,” said Danilo.  He was staring into space with a grimace.  “Dyan has just contacted me.”

Lord Ardais did not waste time.  -Where are you?  Are there any numbers or symbols on the walls?  Who is with you?-

Danilo gazed about, giving his foster-father a view of where they were, and of Catriona and Regis.  The location A1-AS2, which Danilo had failed to notice in all the commotion, was quickly seized by Dyan.  -Regis is wounded,- Danilo added.

-What weapons do you have?- 

-Two blasters, a lightsaber, and Regis' dagger.  Regis wanted to use the lightsaber against the Sith, as it is their own chosen weapon.  The Sith can shield themselves against blaster shots with laran.-

-The dagger will be of no use, then.  What is this lightsaber?  Can you use it?  Turn it on.- 

Danilo clicked on the lightsaber again.  This time the purple color became brighter, with a hint of ruby.  Danilo tried to swing the weapon two-handed, straining hard, then suddenly the purple became red.  The weapon slashed sideways with a furious swing and cut a corner off a table.  Danilo gave a cry as if wounded.  -You swore you would never do that again!-  he raged at his foster-father.

-Do you remember the story of Dom Esteban Lanart?-

-Yes!  You are avoiding the subject.-

-He was the finest swordsman in the Hellers and lost the use of his legs.  Nonetheless, he still found a way to fight.-

Danilo blanched.  -NO!- he shouted back.

-You're not RUTHLESS enough to escape this situation on your own,- Dyan raged in return.  -You must have help!-

-You swore you'd never do it again!- Danilo replied furiously.

-Would you do it to save a life?  Regis is wounded.  I see from your mind that Catriona has other hurts.  I swear I will only hold the link until all of you are rescued safely.- 

Danilo squeezed his eyes shut in anguish.  “Do it,” he said aloud. 

The lightsaber's color abruptly shifted to a bright Sith red.  The paxman gave it a few experimental swings. The energy-blade moved easily.  This first test passed, it cut a blinding, fanciful calligraphy through the air. 

“Danilo?” Catriona asked uncertainly.  “What did Dom Ardais say?” 

“That's not Danilo anymore,” Regis told her, his eyes widening.

-oOo-

Spock had his communicator on as he hurried down the hall after Qui-gon, scanning left and right.  There had been no tremor in Jim's voice as he relayed the news about the photon torpedo attacks, but the Commander knew the Captain must have broken out into a cold sweat upon hearing Uhura's report. 

“Spock, Ardais says the captives are at A1-AS2.  Regis is with them and he's wounded.  Head straight there and don't stop for anything.”

“Affirmative, Jim.  We're off.”  Spock's eyes became fixed in a predator's burn.  After five years, he too felt the bond with the Enterprise.

The noise of firing came from the communicator.  “Damn it,” Kirk's voice spoke.  “We've hit droids.  They're blocking three sides of the next intersection.”

“We're con--”

Wall panels shicked open, and battledroids poured fire at Spock's team from both sides, droid arms flailing like clubs to crush heads and break shoulders.  Spock reacted instantly, firing as he ran, flinging his own arm out to bash droids aside.  “Keep moving!” he called to his men.  “Fire on both sides!”  Not even this ambush could be allowed to delay them.  The blaster fire and blows glanced off their life support shields as they ran the murderous gauntlet.  As they made it clear, Lieutenant Miller spun around with the firing mechanism of his phaser rifle depressed solidly, and the sheet of energy burst the remaining droids open like kernels of popping corn. 

One of the crewmen's shields had failed under the barrage, and Qui-gon, who was running back to help them, took off his own and gave it to the crewman. 

“You have no protection, now,” Spock said to the Jedi as they sprinted.  “It would be wisest if I led.”

“I am not without protection, and have more experience than you against the droids,” Qui-gon  reminded him.  “Besides, I sense that a Sith is near.”  The Jedi's eyebrows knit together, a gesture that would have greatly disturbed Obi-wan if he had been there.  “Yet for some reason I cannot pin down his location.  This is not normal.  Let me scout ahead.”

Reluctantly, Spock dropped back.  As Qui-gon stepped into the next intersection an ambush of droid fire came from all sides.  “Look out!” Spock cried.  The crew halted in dismay, for Qui-gon was standing right in the middle.  Qui-gon's lightsaber spun blindingly, catching and deflecting blaster fire.  A few bursts got past him—not even the most deft lightsaber could be in two places at once, but the Jedi merely deflected the shots with his Force barrier.  Droids  left the ground as Qui-gon pounded them into the walls with the Force. 

Spock raised an eyebrow.   The barrage ceased when the last droid shattered.  “It seems you spoke the truth,” said the Vulcan to Qui-gon. 

“Spock?” said Kirk over the communicator.  “We're pinned down.  We're getting low on phaser power and two of my men have lost their shields, though they're not hurt.  We're holding on, but you're going to have to get the kids.”

“Let me go to the Captain,” said Qui-gon to Spock.  “I can sense their location and will break them out.  The Sith are trying to capture the Darkovans, not kill them.  But they'll kill your Captain and his crew.”

Spock knew this was not according to orders.  Nonetheless, the Jedi's logic was sound.  “Go ahead.”

Qui-gon took off running down a side corridor 

“Jim?  Qui-gon's coming to help you.”

“Spock, dammit, you're not supposed to do this.”

“We're continuing our pursuit,” Spock assured him, fast glancing down corridors as he led his team.  He clipped the communicator to his belt again.  From the noise Spock knew the assault on Kirk's group was becoming heavy.  The volume increased suddenly as a metallic banging became a repetitious and deafening crescendo.

"Good God," said Kirk's voice over the communicator.

“Captain?” queried Spock.

"Just Qui-gon.  He's throwing droids like match sticks.  Damn, that's useful.  At this rate we'll join you in just a moment.”

A wall panel opened and Darth Inculcare exploded out like a horrific jack-in-the-box, his lightsaber swinging at Spock with the speed of a whip. 

Instinctively, the Vulcan blocked the blow with the only sizable piece of equipment he had—his tricorder.  The lightsaber connected with a discordant squeal of energy, and the tricorder blew up.  But just as the tricorder became shrapnel, Spock kicked out with his Vulcan strength, a strength that appeared to be a great surprise to Inculcare, judging by the watery look in the Sith lord's eyes and his gurgle as the blow landed in his crotch.  Spock seized Inculcare's saber wrist and neck in his most crushing grip and slammed his enemy against the wall as hard as he could.  Out of the corner of his eye he noticed another onrush of droids out of the wall panels ahead. 

As Lieutenant Miller shouted wildly into his communicator, “We're being attacked by a Sith!  We're being attacked by a Sith!” and the crew tried to get a shot in at Inculcare without hitting Spock, the Commander had an idea of his own.  He shifted his neck-grip to Inculcare's belt, and with a combination of bum's rush and battering ram, took off running down the hallway with Inculcare in front, slamming droids aside with his human shield, in the full heat of Vulcan battle-mind.

“Holy shit!” Miller said into his communicator.

“What's going on?” Kirk asked.

“Too busy!” Miller blurted as he and the others fried the remaining droids left in Spock's wake.

The pain-fogged look in Inculcare's eyes disappeared as he focused on Spock's face, noticing the dancing energy field that surrounded his assailant.  The next instant the Commander felt his life-support belt explode at his waist.  His shield vanished. 

With Vulcan strength Spock wrenched the lightsaber from Inculcare's grasp and slung his victim across the hall in front of a lift.  Inculcare came to his feet just as Miller and the others ran up.  The lightsaber hilt twisted hard in Spock's hand, trying to rip itself free.  “Fire!  Keep triggers depressed!”  the Commander shouted to his men.  A wall of phaser beams crashed into Inculcare, lighting up a man-shaped surface with energy. 

Briefly, Spock's battle-rage lifted as the Commander stared into the flowing mass of energy, so concentrated it moved like a fluid.  Was this barrage enough to finish off the Sith?

A hole appeared in the energy wall, scattering and bouncing away all light.  As if to mock his foes, Inculcare's face appeared.  He smiled at Spock. 

The Commander's mouth formed a rictus.  He knew he must order a fighting retreat if Inculcare could not be killed this way.  The lightsaber was still tugging violently in his hand. 

The semicircle of Enterprise crew was still firing with half-wild faces, their expressions lit bright as stagelights from the reflection.  Inculcare's eye flew to something else beyond them, and his smile disappeared.  The lightsaber in Spock's hand yanked so hard the Commander nearly lost his balance.  He was sliding across the floor, being dragged by the weapon right towards the Sith lord. 

“Cease fire!” a voice shouted behind them. 

A fast look from Spock caused him to echo the command.  He kept a death-grip on the lightsaber.   

Qui-gon sprang at Inculcare just as the phasers quit, a half-dozen strokes from the flying Jedi forcing the Sith lord back towards the lift.  Inculcare anticipated each blow, but facing a Jedi knight unarmed was foolhardy even for him.  The lift's doors opened as he threw himself  into it.   

Instead of continuing the attack, Qui-gon clapped a hand over the lift's exterior control panel.

“Hold it out,” he shot aside to Spock.

If this had been Kirk, the Commander would have argued about the wisdom of this move.  But Qui-gon obviously had his own ideas. 

Spock twitched the captured lightsaber in front of Inculcare's face, just out of range.  The Sith's expression darkened.  The next moves happened so fast the Commander almost missed them. 



The hilt tore out of Spock's fist, flying towards the angry Sith.  It halted in midair as Qui-gon fixed his eyes on it.  Inculcare flung out an arm and grabbed for his lightsaber just as Qui-gon sent a pulse of Force command into the elevator's controls. 

The doors clapped shut on Inculcare's outstretched arm and the lift plunged downwards with thundering speed. 

Something spun through the air in front of them as a horrible scream tore from the lift shaft.  The scream faded, growing weaker as the lift dropped.  The flying object bounced awkwardly to a halt, leaving bloody stamp-marks across the floor.  It was a clothed forearm, still clutching a lightsaber.

Spock raised both eyebrows.  “Innovative,” he said. 

“What the fuck?” said Miller.

The noise of pounding feet came from behind them as Kirk's crew came running up. 

“Spock?  Master Jinn?” called Kirk. 

“Darth Inculcare is still alive,” Qui-gon said, “but he is too weak to attack us again.”  He glanced down at the shorn-off forearm.  “Great as his physical injury is, his mental wound will be greater.  Leron Kravold was always vain.  Let's go.”

-oOo-

“The Captain and the Jedi are trying to fight their way over towards you,” said Danilo in an odd tone.   

Catriona gave him a taut nod and glanced at Regis.  Regis was swaying as he stood up, his face white and his breathing agitated. 

“Sit,” commanded the keeper.  Regis dropped to his knees, then fell over on his side.  Catriona lifted her matrix.  -He is going into shock.  I think I can stabilize him, but I do not have time to treat his hand as I should,- she sent to Danilo. 

While Catriona set to work, Danilo listened carefully to the distant noises.  Even Dyan had trouble grasping exactly where the trio was located in reference to Kirk's party, but Lord Ardais knew a sound rule of warfare.  The battle is where the noise is.  With his natural suspiciousness, he cased the room.  The blaster in Danilo's left hand rose as Lord Plagueis' face was shot off the ceiling lights. 

The room darkened.  “What?” said Regis in confusion.  His half-shut eyelids fluttered open as  Catriona forced his vital signs back to normal. 

“Can you stand?” Danilo asked.  “Follow me, but stay well back.  I must determine if the way is clear.”  He pulled apart one of the barricades and worked his way down the corridor.  He paused near a junction, listening to the echoes of commotion. 

“Danilo?  Catriona?” a voice called.  “Are you there? I'm going to lead you to safety.”

Danilo ran back.  “Get out of sight,” he insisted.  He rudely grabbed the other two, jerking them down and pushing the table back in place.

“Who is it?” Regis called down the corridor.  Danilo gave him an angry glare.  -Shut up!-  Lord Ardais barked.

“Obi-wan,” said the voice.  Obi-wan stepped out of a side junction and headed towards them.  Danilo's eyebrows came together in perplexity.

“Thank Aldones,” said Regis in relief.  He pushed aside the table.  “This is a friend of mine.  Come on,” he said to his companions. 

Uncertainly, Catriona stood up.  After a moment, Danilo slowly followed her around their makeshift barricade.

“Wait,” said Regis, “he doesn't feel--”

Danilo's lightsaber flew up to deflect the blast, but the rapid fire tumbled both Regis and Catriona unconscious to the floor.  Danilo fired back even as he flung himself down behind his friends and lay flat, using their bodies as shields.  He shoved Catriona forward with his shoulder to make his barrier higher. 

A Force-generated disguise fell away as Xiphos took careful aim.  He was impressed by the boy's manuver.  The Sith apprentice could not keep firing at the stunned bodies of Regis and Catriona without killing them, which was against his orders.  His only option was to storm Danilo's position.

He Force-jumped, his blaster firing as he flipped himself through the air.  A sharp slice dug into his hand.  When he landed, his blaster clattered to the floor, followed by a black-gloved cylinder.  When he lifted his hand to assess the wound, he stared in disbelief.  The leather-clad cylinder had been his own thumb.  He'd been maimed in midair.  The Force lessoned the pain, but he still couldn't believe it.  Enraged, he attacked with his lightsaber. 

He met a whirl of light. 

The next second a prod of red heat rammed nauseatingly into his eye, spraying tears in a shower before going dark.  Xiphos yanked his head backwards from the agony and fell to the floor with a strangled shriek. 

As he clutched his eye and howled into his palm, he retained enough of his training to roll away from the slash of Danilo's lightsaber.  Through his good eye he could see Danilo smiling strangely.  His opponent was toying with him.

Xiphos shook, blood dripping from the searing-hot hole in his face.  An anger so great it could rip bone like paper began to boil inside him.  He let it swell inside his body, raising his skin with a wheal of pure hate.  His arms trembled from the overload of Force-rage, and all motion around him slowed to a crawl.  With a speed faster than human, he launched himself at his enemy. 

Lightsabers met with a violent bang of energy as the boy parried him.  Nonetheless, they'd clashed so hard the boy was slammed right into the wall.  Once, twice, Xiphos struck out, and though Danilo somehow parried both blows, the force of Xiphos' swing knocked the lightsaber right out of Danilo's hand.  Dyan Ardais was supreme with a sword, but even he was handicapped by fighting a man's battle in a boy's body.

The orders of a Muun meant nothing to Xiphos in this moment.  Force-rage knew no master save itself.  He swung to kill. 

The lightsaber chopped into an invisible barrier, and hung there like a cleaver imbedded deep in a block of wood.  Xiphos struggled to move it, and failed.  Incredulous, he stared through his one good eye at his opponent. 

Danilo looked as amazed as himself.  From the floor a hand was raised, fingers taut.  Catriona rose, levering herself to her feet.  Her eyes were shut.  She turned towards Xiphos, unsteady and stiff as a zombie.

“What are you doing!?” Danilo cried. 

The girl could not be conscious, thought Xiphos with disbelief.  She COULDN'T be.  His insane rage detonated.  He knocked away the invisible clasp around his lightsaber with the Force and swung at the interfering bitch.

The next instant he was stumbling backwards to the noise of a splintering crack, as Danilo surprised him with a punch to his blind side. 

It was a boy's strength controlled by a boy's mind, but Danilo delivered the blow with all his might.  Three times he punched savagely, and Xiphos was knocked to the floor.  Danilo stamped on the apprentice's hand, trying to break Xiphos' grip on the lightsaber.

Though dazed, Xiphos struck out with the Force and heard the satisfying bang as the boy was thrown against the opposite wall.  Then the girl was before him again, her face blank.  She ran her fingers through the air in a strange gesture, and a horrible pain screwed its way into Xiphos' wounded eye, boring into his brain like something eating with hungry, snapping teeth.

Something spurted from his left ear.  The apprentice convulsed, then fell over.  A gray substance oozed from his broken eardrum, brain matter leaking out like pudding. 

Lord Ardais leapt from Catriona's body back into Danilo's, and Danilo grabbed her, easing the keeper to the floor as she collapsed.  Awkwardly, the paxman fetched Xiphos' lightsaber with his broken hand and snatched up Regis' blaster to stand guard over their prone bodies. 

For a brief second Dyan's consciousness returned to the Enterprise.  “Where are your men?” he snapped at Uhura in frustration.  “Regis and Catriona are down, stunned.  Danilo is the only one capable of action and he's injured.”

“We've just transmitted the information to the Captain,” Uhura replied.  The communicator link had been left open and Kirk heard Dyan's words. 

“Head for A1-AS2, NOW,” the Captain ordered.  In the background, Dyan heard Spock saying they needed to help Obi-wan with his assault, or the shields wouldn't fall.

“What is this about shields?” Dyan asked Uhura. 

“They need to destroy the shielding console on the Raptor's backup command post, or no one can beam back over,” replied Uhura.  Expecting an explosion of Darkovan curses, she was surprised to see a thoughtful look cross Lord Ardais' face. 

“I have an idea.”  Dyan fell into link with Danilo again, ignoring the boy's nervous twitch.  -I need your cooperation.  Merge your dona with mine.-

-Foster-father, I have almost no strength left for laran-work.-

-This will be the last blow, if it lands right.-

Lord Ardais concentrated, looking for a manned starfighter.  With his enhanced laran, he found the ship piloted by Captain Skyms.  -Hunt,- he commanded.  Dyan wasn't sure of the location, but Skyms knew what Dyan intended and began to shake with fear as the mental clamp shut tight around his will.  -Fire as you fly.-

In rising terror, Skyms found himself strafing the Raptor, searching for a transparisteel window. 

-oOo-

For Darth Tyranus, all struggle against the Enterprise was forgotten when he saw the wounding of Inculcare.  Even Lord Plagueis was distracted and silent.  

/There's no great loss without some small gain,/ Tyranus reflected.  He wished there was instant replay on the viewscreens.  This was a scene to relish over and over.  Was it possible to bronze a lopped-off arm like a pair of baby booties?  He'd love to give the arm back to Inculcare for his birthday.  The label would say, 'A present from Darth Tyranus and his apprentice Qui-gon Jinn.  Many happy returns!'

The slightly insane titter Tyranus emitted at this notion caused the bridge crew to give him wary looks.  /Yes, Darth Inculcare, I do have very good teaching skills./

For a moment he almost considered sparing Jinn's life, but recovered himself.  He'd do the proper thing.  If both he and Jinn survived the next few hours, Tyranus would send him a bottle of Viognier Grand Cru de Chateau Malreaux before killing him.  Tyranus did have a sense of occasion.



His pleasant daydream was interrupted by the sound of blaster fire exploding behind him.  Tyranus threw up his Force barrier and saw a blurred figure dashing across the tops of computer stations.  The intruder was using Force speed, whacking consoles like a xylophone with his lightsaber and shooting crewmen in the face with his blaster. 

Instantly the Sith Lord was after him.  Tyranus failed to get a good glimpse of the assailant's face, but the braided young menace was bouncing around the room randomly hitting everything in sight as if he didn't know what he was doing, and that was enough for Tyranus to identify him.

“Kenobi!” Tyranus bellowed.  “Stand and fight, you feckless son of a Bantha!”

“Sorry, Grandpa T.  I'm rather busy,” Obi-wan replied.  The apprentice was hurrying like a movie set on fast forward, and from Kenobi's perspective Tyranus was following slow as molasses.  Some of the crew were returning fire, but Obi-wan was going much too fast to be hit.  Unfortunately, Force speed had the price of a rapid collapse, as both he and Tyranus knew.

Tyranus longed to give the cheeky snot a dose of Force lightning, but he could not risk an attack that might damage the bridge.  He was closing in like a chess player, herding Kenobi leap by leap into a corner.

The energy from Obi-wan's blaster faded to a dull orange ball.  “Cheap blasters you have,” he said, pausing to pistol-whip a crewman.

 

Tyranus almost had him cornered. 

The ship's protections were still up.  Cursing, Obi-wan knew he must take a greater risk to find the elusive console.  He couldn't keep Force-speed up much longer.  “Ionize,” he whispered, praying he could do this in the midst of such a ferocious energy drain.  Instantly, a swath of computers shorted out.  Obi-wan Force jumped over Tyranus' head.  “Ionize,” he said again, sweeping another bank of consoles.  “Ion--”

Involuntarily, he felt himself dropping out of Force speed as his body reached overload.  He tumbled off the top of a console and fell to the ground on all fours.  /That was a mistake--/

The next second his lightsaber disappeared.  Obi-wan looked up to see it clenched in Tyranus' fist. 

The Sith lord swung hard at his prey, cutting air.

Obi-wan was gone. 

Tyranus blinked.  He'd heard of such things, Jedi's bodies disappearing instantly at the moment of death.  But this was very odd indeed.

“You missed me, you Sithbegotten fellator of Gungans.”

There was Kenobi, standing on the technician's catwalk, swaying with weariness.

Incredulously, Tyranus realized the little worm had Folded Space.  “I did not miss,” snarled Tyranus.  He Force-jumped to the catwalk.  Obi-wan's smile faded.  The apprentice was scanning the banks of computers below with an urgent expression.

Tyranus gloated.  “Is this panic, apprentice?”

Obi-wan's gaze flicked to the transparisteel windows, moved past, flicked there again, and became riveted.   “No, it's bald-faced astonishment.  Sometimes I just have more Force luck than I deserve.  Don't you agree?” 

Tyranus lunged, but Obi-wan Folded space again.  Enraged, Tyranus began to search the room. 

“Incoming!” one of the surviving crew yelled.

Tyranus looked up and saw Captain Skyms' ship heading right for the windows.    He cannonballed himself off the catwalk through the doors, which instantly blast-sealed as Skyms' starfighter exploded into the room.  The command post was annihilated.

As the vacuum-seal on the doors behind him began to fail, Tyranus felt the pull on his body.  His lungs strained as air was sucked out of the room with a whistling scream.  It was time for a dose of Force speed of his own.

From the walls Plagueis watched in silence, his fingers trembling claws of rage.

-oOo-

Lord Ardais gave a violent spasm when he heard the mental screams, and he had to seize hold of the railing beside Uhura's chair to hold himself upright.  When he recovered himself, Uhura staring in wonder all the while, he smiled at her.  “There is no greater pleasure than feeling a death, especially when it's not your own.”  The heavy-lidded delight on his face made Uhura feel sick. 

“Their shields are down, Lieutenant,” said Scotty laconically from the transporter room.  “I'm beaming them over.”

-oOo-