CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Engines screamed in shrill protest. Structural members groaned under intense strain. The floor bucked and kicked in vain pursuit of relief. The entire ship shuddered, marked by the shrieks of failing metal.
"Enough, enough!" Jaina barked. "Shut her down!"
In front of her Jag leaned against his restraints and slapped the emergency shut-off. The Shadow seemed to let out a sigh as stress bled from her connections and the engines thrummed down. Jaina was out of her seat by the time equilibrium was restored.
"Where are you going?" he shouted after her.
"To space those blasted Force-sucking lizards," she snapped, not too loudly, hoping he might not hear.
"What? Wait!" He was after her in a flash. "You can't do that."
Strutting down the hall, she snorted. "Just watch me-YEEE!"
A sudden jolt threw Jaina into the bulkhead, and Jag on top of her. "I would not advise it," Jag breathed into her hair. She could feel him taking in the scent of her, enjoying the proximity.
Placing a hand on either shoulder, she shoved for all she was worth. "You don't say."
She took off down the corridor, but he stuck to her like a planet to a sun. "Not if you want to see that precious backside of mine you're always gawking at ever again."
Jaina stopped and spun on him. "What does that mean?"
He practically ran her over. "You see, it turns out that –"
"Wait. Who'd you get these stinking ysalamiri from, Jag? Jabba?"
"Well, I don't think he would go as far as to encase me in carbonite, but he –"
Throwing up her hands, Jaina said, "Karrde. It's Karrde, isn't it?"
His look of chagrin was all the evidence she needed.
"Of all the kriffin' bantha-brained schemes…"
The problem was, Jaina knew Jag was right. Karrde wouldn't forgive him – or her. If they ever got out of this mess, he'd surely tell Mara what they'd cost him, and where, and how. Then they'd both be in a sarlacc's pit of trouble. Mara's wrath for eternity was more than even Jaina could fathom. "All right. How about we just move them?"
"Much better."
She started down the corridor at a fast clip. A moment later the whush and whirr of an airlock attachment sounded from the starboard hull. Jag jogged to catch up to her.
"We can't be in the destroyer yet," he noted as they came upon a door. "Jaina, I'll –"
She slapped his hand away from the door's console, and tapped the entry code. "Probably afraid we're crazy enough to blow the ship in the hangar…" Jaina stared at the console when it flashed red. "What the –"
Jag reached around and punched a quick sequence. "Couldn't be too careful."
The door whisked open and Jaina stormed inside. "You know, Jagged Fel, if we weren't about to be boarded –"
"You'd kiss me hard and proclaim my quest for a declaration of love a success?"
Now on either side of the dreaded ysalamir's cage, she shot him the dirtiest look possible. Her father would have been proud. "Move it, flyboy. Toward the other one."
Glancing from Jaina to the second ysalamiri nutrient cage deeper in the room, then back, Jag said, "Some help would be nice."
She stared at the large bulbous eyes blinking out at her, and shivered. "On second thought… I'll pass. Where's my lightsaber?"
"In the stateroom," Jag grunted out as he began to drag the cumbersome cage across the floor. "In my –"
Without waiting for the rest, Jaina sprinted from the storage closet. For the briefest flicker of a moment, the Force erupted into her soul like a bright beacon of warmth. Almost as quickly it was gone, leaving her wistful for another taste. She lowered her head and charged forward.
Sliding to a stop, Jaina overshot the stateroom's door. Unaccustomed to such missteps, she cursed while she punching the entry code.
Red light!
"Sonofasith!" Jaina smacked a palm to her forehead. "The code, Jaina. What's the code?"
Quickly, she considered her alternatives. Recall the code Jag had used on the other door? Assuming he used the same code everywhere, Jaina wasn't sure she even could remember. She definitely didn't have the benefit of the Force to enhance her memory recall. Run back to Jag and ask? Already the sounds of their attackers' efforts to gain entry were filtering down the corridor in a series of clangs and whines.
Momentary panic set in – until suddenly Jag raced into the hall.
"Two-seven-two-seven," he shouted at a run.
Not in the mood to thank him – not until they'd both gotten out of this mess safe and sound, at least – Jaina beat the code into the panel. A green light followed and the door whisked open. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jag charge into the next storage compartment even as she dove into the stateroom. Once inside, though, she hesitated.
"Where would he keep it?"
Predictably, everything was neatly stowed. If she hadn't known better, Jaina might have missed the fact that he had ever been there. She'd shared a bunkroom with Jag enough times, though, to give her plenty of insight about where to look. Kneeling, Jaina felt under the bed's comforter for the latch to the storage compartment. The hidden drawer hissed, then slid forward to expose its contents.
She grinned despite everything. "Same old Jag."
His black travel bag sat nestled in a corner. Not overstuffed, just perfectly filled. With no regard for the time or effort it took Jag to maintain such perfection, she unlatched the bag and unceremoniously dumped its contents on the floor. Immediately, she began rustling through the myriad of clothes and personal items.
Pants pressed perfectly. Crisp white shirts. Belts. A bottle of cologne she'd given him on Jiawai. Rolled socks. Briefs. A dash of red –
"Wait a second…"
Jaina yanked on the red string and out came a racy negligee, lacy and barely there. Batting her eyes, she regarded it for a heartbeat – or two.
WARNING. WARNING. BREACH OF HULL.
The Shadow's automated voice broke Jaina's reverie, and she hurled the sexy apparel on the bed. Back to digging through the bag's contents, Jaina found her usual calm increasingly elusive. Without the Force she felt truly helpless, especially since her search was coming up empty. Typically, she could have found her lightsaber with merely a thought, like sensing an extension of her very being.
Her fingers hit something hard but indeterminate; it was wrapped in the material of a shirt. Desperate she pulled it out. The object was round, but something piqued Jaina's curiosity. She unwrapped the small box, and paused.
There was no mistaking the velvety container. Only one thing could be inside. For about a millisecond she considered looking, but then her conscience – always speaking in her uncle's most severe Jedi Academy lecture tone – took over. You have given up the right to pry.
With a sigh, Jaina dropped the small box and resumed her search. Almost immediately, her fingers hit something cool – and round. "Thank the maker!"
Snatching the long familiar cylinder, Jaina jumped to her feet just as a wave of comforting energy washed over her.
"Even better!"
Jaina bolted for the door, then stopped. She turned back, eyeing the small box where it lay on the floor. Scrambling, she snatched the box and then the negligee.
"No way some stinking pirates are going to get their grubby hands on these," she huffed while crossing to the back wall. Only two other people in the galaxy knew what she did – there was a secret compartment, seamless and undetectable, built into the wall. With practiced ease, Jaina located the invisible button and pressed it with the Force.
There was a soft tone followed by a hiss. A second later there was a hole in the wall where none had been. Jaina tossed in the precious items before hitting the trigger again. She blinked and the wall was once more intact.
"Jaina! Hurry up!"
She glanced around the room, wondering what she was forgetting. Outside the room the sound of metalcutters droned louder and louder. She sprinted for the door.
"Mara is going to kill me…"
At the thought of her aunt, Jaina drew up, then about-faced abruptly. With a simple thought she found another hidden latch. Servomotors sprang to life, and the cabinetry along the side wall spun through a complete half-circle. In their place three huge racks, overloaded with every type and make of weaponry imaginable, emerged.
"Now we're talking." Jaina snatched a vibroblade and stuffed it in her boot. A sonic grenade she snapped to her belt. A LMD-89 Disruptor she slung over her shoulder. Then one blaster for each hand.
There was a loud bang right before Jaina's ears popped from a change in pressure. Almost instantly the rapid burst of charric fire staccatoed between laser fire. With no thought for her own safety, Jaina leaped into the corridor, both blasters blazing. She fired and cross-stepped into the opposing doorway, flattening her back to the door.
Ten. She counted ten invaders.
Jag was pinned down in a bulkhead between her and their attackers. Her immediate concern was getting him behind her – behind her lightsaber.
"I'll cover you," Jaina shouted over the din of the crossing volleys.
Jag nodded. After a two-count Jaina stepped out from her cover, firing bolts as fast as her blasters would allow. Jag ducked and scrambled toward her, slinging his charric over his shoulder by its strap as he came. Shooting quickly but accurately, Jaina overwhelmed their opponents momentarily. A Bith dropped. Nine.
The intruders were skilled warriors, though. They recovered in seconds, returning fire with coordinated precision. The instant Jag was clear, Jaina tossed the pair of pistols back over her shoulders into his waiting hands. Simultaneously her lightsaber jumped into the air, igniting with a snap-hiss.
The result was dramatic and effective. The sight of a glowing purple sword stunned her assailants, and there was a momentary lull in the spray of fire. Jaina stood in ready position, her blade crossing from hip to shoulder, humming ominously. The pirates – or so she guessed by their motley appearance and mixed species – stared back, wary and waiting.
Then from out of the wisps of smoke at the far end of the corridor, a commanding figure appeared. The tall man in black fatigues strode forward with icy composure. A pair of blaster pistols were strapped to his hips. Even more menacing, though, was the shining silver metal covering the left side of his bald head, the glowing red cybernetic orb instead of a left eye, and his silver robotic left hand. Filing in behind the cyborg were a dozen or more armored men.
"Okay, so not pirates," Jaina muttered.
Her Force sense was hindered by the odd arrangement of voids around the ship, but Jaina could still tell this man was definitely someone to be reckoned with. He regarded her for a moment before addressing the troopers forming up along the narrow corridor.
"Get them."
"Oh kriff," was all Jaina got out before laserbolts drenched the air.
She blocked shots as fast as she could, returning most toward the shooters, zipping others off to scar her aunt's ship. Jag fired the pair of blaster pistols unerringly. They both hit their marks repeatedly, but immediately realized their accuracy was futile. Every hit was easily absorbed by the soldiers' armor.
And not only was the armor effective in nulling their efforts, but the soldiers were beginning to coordinate their targeting. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Jaina to maintain her position. She retreated slightly to give herself distance, that slightest bit more of time to parry the shots.
Try as she might, she couldn't find a way to turn the tide. Jaina blocked and parried. The soldiers crept forward with practiced skill. Then Jaina retreated. Repeat. Then again.
She'd lost count by the time she glanced at Jag out of the corner of her eye and noticed the beads of sweat on his brow and streaks of perspiration marking his shirt.
"Getting to you, flyboy?"
Jag aimed and fired. "Those things were… heavy."
"Oh." Jaina whipped her blade in a figure eight, pinging four bolts away. "Need to step up the performance training, then."
"Jaina –"
"No time, Jag." The bolts were coming fast and furious. "Get back."
"Jai-"
"Jag," she growled, unsure how long she could hold this position.
He heeded her warning and sprinted to the next protruding bulkhead. Jaina took one deliberate step back, then another, all the while trying to devise a plan –
The current of information vanished abruptly. She'd backed into a void! The lightsaber became an unbalanced, awkward tool in her hands, and Jaina's mindset shifted from guarded to vulnerable. She never stopped guiding the weapon; she would continue her task as best she could.
One shot whizzed past. Then another.
Poing. Poing.
"Ktah!"
"Sorry," Jaina grunted, her arms now feeling heavy and slow. Desperate, she marched forward until she found the edge of the void. She fell into the Force, allowing it to guide her hands.
"That last swing of yours almost took my head off."
Poing.
"You should've warned me how close we were to your lizard friends," she panted.
"You should try letting me finish a sentence. You might learn something."
Poing. Poing. Ping.
Shots were still getting by, but only ones she allowed. Sweat beaded on Jaina's brow and trickled into her eyes. Her body was a flurry of motion, random movements strung together by the guidance of the Force. She couldn't keep this up forever.
"Can't you kill a couple of those things behind us?"
"At this point, gladly. If I could," Jag said.
And he was right. They were pinned against the wall, and her tired defense was too flawed to protect him. Seemingly out of choices, Jaina hesitated on her next move.
Switching the blade to one hand, she reached for the sonic grenade on her belt. Blindly she triggered the fuse, then palmed the cylindrical device.
"Forgive me, Mara."
She would have to drop her guard momentarily to wind up for the throw. She timed the maneuver the best she could. Just as her blade lowered and she attempted to judge a good target for the grenade, Jaina saw the cyborg aiming his blaster.
All she saw after that was red fire, followed by a bright light. Then black.
Jaina's legs buckled, and she heard the grenade hit the floor beside her.