As it turned out, the large room on the second level didn't have much in the way of cover. There were two large pillars, and that was all; the rest of the room was completely empty. Quinlan stared at it for a moment before turning to Hunter, hoping the sergeant had some particularly brilliant idea or other, but Hunter was already shaking his head.
They set traps on that level and went down the stairs without further comment.
Soon, they were on the third level, working their way from door to door, checking inside each room and then placing mines. Zenaya was still in the lowest level. So far, nothing concerning had happened. . . Unless one counted Zenaya's heat signature hardly moving as concerning. Tech said he did, and everyone else agreed.
At Wrecker's direction, Quinlan was also setting mines. He twisted one to activate it and straightened, watching the indicator light flash and then turn off. "Like that?"
"Yeah." Wrecker paused his work to hand him another mine. "Go ahead and get the next door, about halfway up. Just, uh – careful not to forgot which doors you've already done."
"I won't." Quinlan looked across the hall at the other three commandos, who were taking care of the doors opposite him and Wrecker. "Hey, Wrecker, you sure they know which doors have been trapped?"
"Yeah." Wrecker tapped the visor of his helmet. "We can all see the beams."
". . . Oh. Good to know." Quinlan checked the next small room, which was, once again, completely empty. It was one of six in a row, all of which looked like the living quarters in Trayus. He couldn't imagine that Zenaya would be entering any of these rooms, but he and Wrecker trapped them anyway.
No one had seen any statues – four-armed or otherwise – in Aantonaii yet, but if there were any, they'd have to cut through the light beams in order to chase the team. At least there would be a little warning, this way. Hopefully.
As Quinlan activated the laser trap and stepped back, the futility of their actions suddenly swept over him. This won't stop her. What are we even doing? What am I doing?
He knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to kill Zenaya. What he couldn't quite figure out was why he was trying. Her ship was gone. She was trapped here – unless, somehow, she managed to get onto the Marauder without their knowing. Quinlan stopped moving as he wondered if that was even a possibility. He didn't really know Zenaya's powers, or her limitations. The team should never have come to Aantonaii. Quinlan should have listened to Hunter and called in help from the Jedi.
He set the next mine, hardly noticing what he was doing as he tried to think through the sudden confusion. He should have listened to Hunter – right? No . . . because if Zenaya managed to get off Malachor, it would be almost impossible to run her to ground. And even if the Jedi eventually managed to destroy her, it wouldn't be until hundreds of people had been injured and killed. Quinlan and the commandos had to at least try to kill her. . .
. . . before she kills us.
Letting out his breath shakily, Quinlan closed his hand around the black lightsaber hilt at his side and drew it. The familiar weight was not reassuring at all.
He didn't know why Zenaya had left them alive, but her deciding to let them live was the only reason he and the others hadn't been killed and their bodies left in the Trayus Core.
Zenaya was trapped now. They could just leave and wait for help from the Jedi. . . if they could be sure that she really had no other way off of Malachor. Darth Nihilius had been able to extend his reach across star systems to drain people of life. If Zenaya had even a fraction of those abilities, they would leave the planet and be killed anyway.
All the thoughts and doubts he'd been trying to ignore filled his mind, numbing it. He couldn't get rid of the idea that he was throwing away the chance Zenaya had given him, given all of them. She had decided, for whatever reason, to let them walk away from Trayus, and now they were all but asking her to kill them. But why would she give them the choice, if she'd known what they would do?
Quinlan watched distantly as the commandos moved closer together, discussing something that Tech was pointing out on his datapad. The Jedi knew he should at least have left the others behind. This attempt to destroy Zenaya would probably fail, doing nothing but buy the galaxy a little more time. Surely the commandos had to know that. Or was it possible that they actually thought they might have a chance against her?
As though aware of his look, Hunter turned around to meet his gaze, tilting his head questioningly.
Quinlan looked away, clenching one fist until his nails bit into the skin. It made his mind a little clearer, a little more focused. He was almost able to convince himself that the creeping fear that clung to the inside of his throat was from the Dark Side, and not because he and the others were walking to their deaths. . . or because he was more confused than he had any reason to be. Something was wrong.
A movement to his left startled him, and he jerked around to face Tech, who only blinked in response before continuing down the hallway. Quinlan followed. There was only one doorway left to trap on this level, and then they'd move down to the fourth level.
And Zenaya was on the fifth.
"Tech," Quinlan said, and paused to clear his throat. "Is she still down there?"
"She has not left the room," Tech assured him, holding out the datapad. "She has only moved to walk back and forth twice. Otherwise she appears to have been sitting still."
Quinlan looked at the scan results. A blurred, vaguely humanoid form was seated cross-legged on the floor. She must know that the Phoenix had been destroyed . . . but she really didn't seem to care.
"She's meditating," he said. His throat felt dry.
"Yes." Tech hunched his shoulders slightly. "I assumed as much."
As Quinlan followed Hunter and Crosshair towards the doorway, he opened his canteen and took a few swallows. Too bad he hadn't brought anything stronger than water.
Crosshair braced one hand lightly on the edge of the doorway and leaned in, then stepped back without speaking.
"Crosshair?" Hunter asked. "Is it clear?"
". . . Yeah – mostly. There's a statue."
"What?" Hunter had his pistol out.
"Not that kind." Crosshair pointed through the doorway. "There's a door opposite this one, and another stone person in that room."
Tech and Hunter exchanged looks, then slipped inside. Quinlan followed, and Wrecker and Crosshair trailed after him.
The flames that lit this room burned white, like those in the hallways, but two of the lanterns were enclosed by blood-red glass. On the opposite side of the marble floor stood a large rectangular prism of crystal. It was hollow, a meter wide in both directions, and extended from the floor to the ceiling. The prism scattered the light of the flames, and gleams of red and flickers of broken white danced on the walls and ceiling.
Across the room from the prism lay a deep slab of polished white marble that looked almost like a low table. Hanging from the ceiling, a meter and a half above it, was a triangular metal frame – it had probably been a support for whatever had stood on the table. The doorway cut into the wall across from the commandos seemed out of place, somehow. It was almost like there shouldn't be a door . . .
And then, Quinlan realized why. He didn't remember a door being in that picture, and yet this was the room from the picture, and from the vision. He was sure of it.
"There should be a shadow," he muttered. The words sounded empty and meaningless in the ancient stillness of the room, and he found himself reaching for the yellow crystal in his tunic pocket.
"This . . ." Hunter lowered his already quiet voice even further. "This is the room you saw in the vision?"
Quinlan nodded, studying the lanterns. Whatever had cast the shadow would have been right where the prism stood. "There should have been a statue, or something –"
"Perhaps –" Tech paused, studying the prism. "Perhaps whatever statue was here has been moved since the drawing was made."
"Yeah . . ." Crosshair adjusted his grip on the sniper rifle. "Or it moved on its own."
"Uh, I don't like the sound of that!" Wrecker backed away from the prism, trying to keep an eye on both doors at the same time. "I didn't hear nothin', but –"
A chill brushed over Quinlan at the memory of the golden-eyed statue that had followed them silently through Trayus. The last thing he wanted was to look up and see something similar, but worse, blocking the doorway with skeletal arms.
"The shadow didn't have four arms," he said.
Hunter and Crosshair exchanged looks.
"The crystal is hollow," Tech said obviously, pushing his visor up. "I see no way a statue could have left it, but – perhaps it did."
"We don't need to know how," Hunter said, starting for the opposite door. "Seems like the Sith statues do plenty of weird stuff they shouldn't be able to do."
"That –" Tech paused, then blinked and twitched a little, as though shaking off a memory. "That is certainly true."
"No kidding." Across the room, Wrecker was already putting a mine into place. "Let's get outta here."
"Hold up, Wrecker." Hunter leaned past him to peer into the second doorway. "There might be something . . ."
His voice trailed away.
"Something, what?" Crosshair demanded.
"Useful?" Tech suggested, joining the sergeant. "Something relevant to what we are currently – Oh."
"I'm guessing that means 'no'," Quinlan grumbled, peering between them.
The room in front of him was small. In the exact center stood a grey stone altar, very close in appearance to the altar in Trayus. The stone form of a richly dressed prisoner lay on top of it. Streaks and stains of rusty red marked the side of the stone that faced them.
At the base of the altar lay a broken skeleton, the gaping skull staring emptily at the door. The person to whom it had once belonged must have been dead before the Scourge, and it looked as though the ritual, whatever it was, had been completed in a hurry. The dead body had been dragged from the altar and tossed aside, and it had lain there ever since.
But the second victim had turned to stone, which meant she had been alive when the Scourge came. Quinlan took a step into the room, then another. The prisoner was, oddly enough, a Togrutan woman. She was still fastened to the altar by black metal cuffs identical to those in the Core. Quinlan's left hand closed briefly at the memory of the cold, immovable metal band around his arm.
The woman's wrists were fastened to either corner of the altar, just above her head, and her ankles were cuffed to the middle of the opposite end. Her fingers were clenched and her body was not fully on the altar. She had been twisting to the right, head flung back, and the position made the deep gash at the base of her throat all too evident.
Quinlan took another step towards the poor woman. Her face was fearful, her wide eyes staring sightlessly at the corner where the ceiling met the wall. She must have been close to death when the Scourge put an end to her terror.
Tech's datapad beeped, startling him out of his reverie, and Quinlan glanced sidelong at him. "Tech – what are you doing?"
Tech looked up from the skeleton. "I am attempting to discover which species this person was. I believe it was also a Togrutan."
"Togrutan?" Hunter stirred uneasily. "Male or female?"
"Female." Tech straightened and set the datapad on the corner of the altar, then leaned forward to observe the stone woman. His eyes narrowed slightly behind his goggles. "She must have been a noble?"
"I don't know." Quinlan rubbed at the side of his left arm and glanced at the woman's long skirt, which trailed down the side of the altar. "You mean because of the dress?"
Tech nodded and reached out, almost but not quite touching the stone folds of embroidered material. "It is strangely ornate, for a ritual victim being killed on an altar. Most members of cultures that involved themselves with the sacrifice of sentients gave their victims only simple tunics – when they bothered to give them anything at all."
Crosshair and Wrecker looked simultaneously at him, then at each other.
"Yeah . . ." Hunter said heavily, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "Thanks for that, Tech. Quinlan? What are you looking for?"
"Nothing." Quinlan stepped slowly back from the altar. He wasn't about to touch the cuffs, or anything in this room, but he wanted to unclasp them and release the woman.
Not that it matters to her. . . and it hasn't for thousands of years. He grimaced and turned away. "Two female Togrutans . . . they must have been the last victims for Zenaya's ritual."
With a final glance at the skeleton and the statue, he left the room. The others followed, and Wrecker activated the mine he'd already placed.
"The ritual," Crosshair muttered. "You mean the one that she did on that jewel Vythia used?"
"Yeah, I guess." Quinlan folded his arms as he passed through the second door into the hallway. He didn't want to risk brushing the walls, even with his sleeves. "Zenaya probably knew the Scourge was coming months in advance . . . She must have prepared for it by designing that ritual. Somehow, she manipulated the Force until she could trap her lifeforce in that jewel. Looks like she must have waited until the last second before performing it, though."
"Do you think . . .?" Hunter trailed off for a moment. "Quinlan, you think Vythia was after the jewel in the first place? Or was it just lying on the floor for centuries, and she just happened to find it?"
"I don't know." Quinlan followed Wrecker down the stairs toward the fourth level. "If I had to guess though . . . I don't think Vythia was always after it."
"Yeah, me either." Wrecker glanced over his shoulder. "But it wouldn't make sense for Zenaya to just leave the jewel lying around, though."
Hunter shrugged. "Maybe she was just taking a chance?"
"I don't know that, either." Quinlan glanced at the fourth-level hallway, which split in two directions. "Maybe she just hoped that eventually the jewel would be found – and that someone would complete the ritual. I think she probably had some idea of what would happen, though. . . Maybe she saw into the future, because she obviously had other things in place. Vythia knew what she needed to get."
"Saw into the future," said Tech. "That . . ."
"It's no weirder than his psychometry," Crosshair pointed out, jerking his chin at Quinlan.
"Yeah," Quinlan agreed absently, still thinking about Hunter's question. "I have a feeling Zenaya left some scrolls or something near the jewel to explain what it was for – to whoever found it."
"Except she didn't, really," Hunter said, turning into the right-hand passageway. "If she had, Vythia wouldn't have performed that ritual. . . Or would she?"
"No." Quinlan paused, watching Wrecker set another mine. "It seems to me that Zenaya arranged things in such a way that she could trick anyone who tried to perform the ritual. I mean . . . I can't imagine anyone wanting to be possessed by a Sith."
"Wait." Crosshair, who had just placed a mine halfway down the doorway, stilled abruptly, his fingers resting on the activator. "If Zenaya trapped her lifeforce in the jewel, then where is her body?"
A creeping chill crawled up Quinlan's sides and into his neck. Had Zenaya turned to stone, or had she actually died before the Scourge swept over Malachor?
"Her body?" Wrecker's hands lowered at his sides. "The skeleton near the altar wasn't, uh, hers?"
"Not unless she killed herself," Tech said. "I doubt she did – the spinal column had been severed at two different points, and –" He looked down at his empty hands, then up, his alarmed gaze flitting between Hunter and Quinlan. "I . . ."
"Tech?" Hunter turned fully to face him. "What is it?"
"I believe I left my datapad in the room with the altar."
"How?" Hunter demanded, but he was already heading back for the stairs. Quinlan followed. It was their only way to really keep track of Zenaya's position.
"I do not know how!" Tech replied, breaking into a run.
"That's weird," Wrecker announced in between running steps. "You never forget your datapad, Tech!"
Hurry, Quinlan thought, slipping between Crosshair and Tech. Hurry, or it won't be there anymore.
He didn't know why he was so convinced.
"I know." Tech drew a pistol. "But this time, I do not remember even setting it down."
"You did," Crosshair stated, as he ducked beneath the level of one mine. "You set it on the altar."
Tech didn't answer, but the look on his face was clear enough. He might as well have asked out loud, Why did I do that?
When they reached the room with the hollow crystal, they slowed down, all except for Tech, who wormed his way between the crisscrossing laser trap they'd placed in the second door, then rushed to the altar.
Quinlan stood in the doorway and watched him pick up the datapad – good, it was still there. They could still track Zenaya's position. He was just taking a quick breath of relief when Tech turned slowly to face the others.
Hunter stiffened, and Quinlan froze. There were two wide lines burned diagonally into the datapad, utterly destroying the screen and any hopes they had of knowing Zenaya's position. The glowing red edges of the cuts were only just starting to fade.
"She must have gone up the stairs." Tech's words had almost no inflection. "While we were on the fourth level."
"Yeah . . . " Hunter said in a low voice. Keeping his gaze on the door, he drew his vibroknife and flipped it into a reverse grip so that the sharp blade was held parallel with his forearm. "She didn't go back down past us. Quinlan, if she knows where we are there's no point in hiding anymore. We have to know where she is."
"I know. Give me a minute." Quinlan dropped to his knees and shut his eyes, seeking another lifeform in the Force. He was aware of his own, and those of the commandos, but there was no one else on this level.
He cast his mind out farther, not trying to touch Zenaya directly. All he needed to locate was the Force near her . . . An area significantly darker than the rest of Aantonaii. . .
Behind him, Wrecker was talking. "Hunter, we gotta catch her before she tries to take the Marauder. We still need a way off-planet, and if she destroys –"
The smooth, cool sensation of Zenaya's shielded mind brushed suddenly against his own. Quinlan jumped, then tried to jerk away, but she wouldn't let him withdraw.
Then, abruptly, her voice rang in his mind. Search for me as you will, Quinlan Vos, but you will never succeed if you refuse to learn.
He snatched at her shields, twisting them. With a soft laugh and an almost physical push, she released him, dismissing him from her presence, which was – where?
"I – I can't find her." Quinlan stumbled to his feet, a slow vertigo starting inside his head as her words sank in. If you refuse to learn . . . If you refuse to learn . . .
"She's hiding?" Wrecker asked.
Quinlan nodded. "And she knows we're looking."
Hunter took off his helmet and clipped it to his belt, then knelt. Quinlan bit his lip, watching uncertainly while the sergeant pressed one hand against the wall and the other against the floor.
For ten seconds there was nothing but silence. Quinlan found himself holding his breath, almost willing Hunter to find her, or at least to find something that would indicate where the Sith woman had gone. He was so intent on Hunter that he jumped when Wrecker cleared his throat nervously.
Only a moment later, Hunter shook his head and got up. "Either she's standing still, or she already left the palace."
"Hunter?" Wrecker whispered, shifting his weight. "Do we try to get back to the Marauder?"
The sergeant looked at Quinlan, then started for the hallway without answering.
"She'd be a fool to let us leave," Crosshair said. "Especially now that she's trapped."
"Hmm." Tech put his now-useless datapad into the pouch at his side as they moved quickly up the stairs. "I, for one, am not convinced that she is trapped as effectively as we would like."
A sense of amusement, as clear as laughter, brushed Quinlan and disappeared. She was listening to them. The Jedi grasped too late at Zenaya's presence, and before he could trace it, she was gone. With a hiss, he stopped walking and flung out his Force-senses in all directions in an attempt to catch her off-guard.
She only laughed again. But Quinlan! The answer is so clear! You made such a promising start, too, escaping from Trayus as you did. . .
Someone shoved him between the shoulder blades, and he twisted sharply to see Crosshair. The sniper jerked his chin at the top of the stairway, which was now only a few meters away. "Head in the game, Jedi. I think Hunter's got something."
At the same moment, the sergeant held up a closed fist and half-turned to face them, pointing to the hallway wall just ahead. "Wrecker – didn't you put a mine here?"
"Yeah."
"Well . . . it's gone."
"She moved it?" Wrecker whispered loudly.
Nobody answered him. Tech drew his second pistol and clicked the safety off, and Crosshair loosened his own pistol in its holster.
Hunter rotated his knife once. "Do we try for the main door or the tower?" he muttered.
In the main hallway, very close to them, a footstep clicked against the polished stone of the floor. Everybody went completely still as a pale blue laser beam shone across the top of the stairway at ankle-level, not a meter from Hunter. The beam flickered and vanished – at least from Quinlan's vision. The commandos stayed silently focused on it.
"How many did she set?" Quinlan asked in a low voice, gripping a lightsaber in either hand.
"Four that I can see." Hunter hesitated, then touched the floor. "Quinlan, she's walking back and forth in the hall . . ."
Waiting for them – if she was waiting for them, she was ready. She'd win, if they attacked her head-on. Quinlan took a slow breath. "The tower," he said. "Better to lure her up there than attack."
"It's a straight run from here," Hunter said, clenching his knife hilt. "If we can get up there and blow the wall, we can escape down the mountainside."
"It would seem to be our best chance," Tech said. "And if she follows us, we may be able to fire on her with the Marauder."
Before Hunter could answer, Wrecker reached for a grenade. Quinlan grabbed his wrist. "Do not throw explosives at her," he warned. "She'll deflect them at us."
"Oh . . .okay." Wrecker hesitated, then drew his blaster instead.
"Tech." Crosshair hefted his rifle. "Can you give me a distraction?"
"Yes." Tech's eyes narrowed determinedly, and he stepped up next to Hunter. "Tell me when."
Moving calmly, Crosshair pulled a reflector off his belt. "Now."
In two steps, Tech had jumped over the mine and was racing across the wide hall, firing towards the main doorway as he did so. At the same time, Crosshair threw a reflector between two of the other mines – it hit the wall facing the hallway where Zenaya was waiting.
As soon as Tech reached cover, he skidded to a halt and looked back at the rest of them. There wasn't a sound from the Sith woman.
"I'll cover you," Crosshair said, tilting his head at Hunter and Wrecker.
They shifted to stand near the closest laser, and the sniper aimed past Wrecker's knee and fired, sending three lasers ricocheting down the main hallway. Hunter stepped right over one of his reflecting shots and crossed the hall at a dead run.
A hissing snap sounded at almost the same instant. Quinlan grabbed Wrecker's forearm with both hands and yanked at him.
Wrecker jerked to a stop just as the three lasers returned, spattering into the stone directly in front of his face.
With an audible snarl, Crosshair threw another reflector at the wall across the main hall, firing almost before it had landed. His shots reflected twice this time, probably not getting anywhere near Zenaya, and at the same time Tech leaned out to fire a barrage of lasers from both pistols.
Wrecker and Quinlan moved together, avoiding the mines at a dangerous speed. As they reached the center of the landing, Quinlan ignited both blades, just in time to deflect four of Tech's lasers as they came back at him.
Across from him, the lightwhip's glowing red blade curved and hissed down, lighting up the black eyes of the Nautolan woman who wielded it. Quinlan hardly had time to notice anything else, because she snapped up the lightwhip, deflecting Hunter's shots at Quinlan, who blocked them just in time as Crosshair dashed behind him to safety.
The instant the four commandos stopped firing, Quinlan dove after them, landing in a somersault that brought him into the cover of the wall. Leaping to his feet, he asked, "Where are the other mines?"
"Pay attention," Tech answered shortly. He paused to make sure that Quinlan was following, then ran for the tower doorway.
Quinlan followed on his heels, ducking when he ducked and pausing to climb carefully over a beam invisible to him. He heard the others following, but above their footsteps sounded the wavering hum of the lightwhip.
Then the team reached the tower staircase, which wound upward around the inside of the circular walls for twenty meters and disappeared into a wide hole in the floor of the uppermost – and only – level of the tower. There was no banister of any sort, and Quinlan found himself keeping one hand on the wall as he ran after Tech, taking the stairs two at a time.
Why are you running? Zenaya taunted in his mind, and Quinlan tripped on the next step. Quinlan, stop running. Did you not wish to kill me . . . ?
"She's following," Quinlan warned sharply, just as he heard another shot from Crosshair's rifle.
"Keep moving!" Hunter snapped.
Tech slowed just for a moment at the top, flicking an electronic detonator to land against the wall before he darted through the hole and into the tower room.
Quinlan chanced a look down the stairs. Zenaya had not actually come into the tower itself, but the red glow from her lightwhip was hovering in the doorway.
Hunter followed his gaze. "Kark it," he muttered feelingly. "Wrecker! Get this entire doorway trapped while we start on the wall."
"I got it." Wrecker slung his pack to the ground and grabbed a handful of mines.
The other commandos had already turned on their helmet lights, but the large room was surprisingly dim, especially in comparison to the rest of the castle. Quinlan ignited his lightsabers again, holding up the blades as a second source of light.
The skylight, placed in the roof of the tower, was the first thing he saw. It was a thick, opaque glass that allowed almost no light through. He pointed with one blade, and Hunter nodded.
"That side, Tech," he said. "Thermals'll be safest."
"Understood," Tech replied, grabbing several grenades.
Quinlan drew back and threw his lightsaber, using the Force to guide it in a tight arc so he could strike at the skylight. A gold streak appeared where the blade brushed it, but the window didn't shatter.
"Must be crystal," Wrecker said. "It's okay, I don't think we'll need it. The room's big enough we won't blow ourselves up."
Recalling his lightsaber to his hand, Quinlan peered through the semi-darkness to find a lantern. They were everywhere else in this cursed palace, so there should be at least one or two . . . It took him a moment, but he located one across from the door.
When he pushed the crystal into place, gold light flared brilliantly from it and several other lanterns, which had been placed higher than usual all around the circular wall. The gold light lasted a few seconds before evening out into a bright white glow which clearly illuminated the entire tower room.
Quinlan turned on his heel, then froze, his gaze flicking across the room. Golden chains hung, spaced at even intervals, from the edge between the ceiling and the wall. They dangled down to end, two meters from the floor, in beautifully engraved cuffs. Only one set of cuffs, the one directly beside him, held a prisoner – a stone Twi'lek male, who was leaning back against the wall, eyes nearly closed in exhausted resignation.
When Quinlan looked at the others, everyone except Wrecker was staring uneasily at the gleaming, delicate-looking chains.
Tech glanced at Quinlan, but didn't say anything.
"Hey, Hunter," said Wrecker. "Catch!"
Hunter held up both hands, catching the charge that Wrecker tossed to him, and Tech and Crosshair suddenly went back to setting explosives while Quinlan stood close by and ignited both blades.
As soon as the sergeant finished setting the charge, he moved towards the stairs, one hand on his pistol. "Hurry it up," he ordered.
Crosshair and Tech didn't even acknowledge him. They were working together, Tech kneeling to place an explosive close to the floor while Crosshair reached higher up.
"Okay," Wrecker said. "Detonator's ready."
"We have finished," Tech confirmed.
The four commandos ran back towards the stairway, Wrecker clutching the detonator in one hand. Quinlan was about to follow when he caught sight of the Twi'lek statue again. The stone prisoner seemed to be staring hopelessly across the room, at where the explosive charges blinked.
With a sudden, angry motion, Quinlan struck the green lightsaber against the chains that held the stone prisoner. His blade scored through the gleaming gold on the outside of the chains and skidded, flickering off and then on. Cortosis . . . ? The window was unbreakable, the chains were unbreakable – this place was built to be a prison.
Quinlan spun. "Wrecker!" he shouted, racing towards the stairwell, but the countdown had already started.
"What is it?" Hunter demanded, as Quinlan dove to cover next to him, but the Jedi didn't have time to answer. The roar of explosives and falling rocks drowned out all other sound for several seconds, and the stairway vibrated beneath them.
When the sound died out, Wrecker said, "Careful – the floor should be okay, but there'll be loose rocks above us."
Quinlan darted up three steps and back into the room. The rock wall on the side of the tower with the skylight had completely disintegrated, but the chains were intact, swaying a little but still solidly embedded in the now-revealed wall of black metal.
"What . . ." Hunter's voice died away, then returned. "That – didn't even make a dent."
Crosshair looked up at the skylight and tilted his head. "Wait. Looks like it cracked the window."
"Here!" Wrecker moved to stand beneath it and locked his hands together. "Quinlan – hurry, try to cut through it!"
They had nothing else left to try. Quinlan scrambled up to stand on Wrecker's shoulders and clipped one lightsaber to his belt. With Wrecker gripping his ankles, he put a hand on the ceiling for balance and stabbed the green blade into the opaque material of the window.
It sputtered and fizzed, but sank in. Quinlan gritted his teeth and shoved with all his strength, trying to guide it around the perimeter of the skylight. With agonizing slowness, a glowing cut lengthened in the crystal-like window.
His sweaty hand slipped on the hilt, and he let go of the ceiling to grab the lightsaber with both hands, trusting Wrecker to hold him steady. The first side of the skylight had almost been cut through when he felt a faint draft of cool air from outside.
Suddenly encouraged, he glanced down to tell the others –
– and jerked in shock, a flash of heat and cold shooting over him.
Just inside the doorway stood Zenaya, who was watching him with her head tilted curiously to one side.
Quinlan stared back at her, heart slamming painfully against his sternum. Wrecker stiffened. The others swung around, saw the Sith woman, and split off in three different directions as they attacked.
Zenaya gestured with one hand, and Tech was thrown across the room to slam into the wall next to Wrecker. Hunter leaped and swiped his blade at her throat.
Leaning back slightly, Zenaya avoided both the knife and Crosshair's laser by a mere centimeter, then caught Hunter's right hand by the wrist. With a quick twist of her other hand, the Force coiled around Crosshair's rifle, ripped it away, and flung it down the stairs.
Growling, Hunter tossed his vibroblade to the opposite hand and stabbed downward towards her heart. The knife struck the black vest, skidded sharply, and flew out of Hunter's grip. Crosshair seemed frozen, one hand only just touching his pistol. Beneath Quinlan, Wrecker was shaking with the effort to move.
Jerking into full awareness, Quinlan reached for the Dark Side energy that surrounded him so completely, and sent it against the paralysis that seemed to have enveloped him.
Zenaya looked him full in the face, well aware of what he was trying to do, then glanced back at the sergeant. For no discernible reason, Hunter fell suddenly to his knees in front of her. She twitched her fingers upward, removing his helmet, then dropped it on the floor and gazed thoughtfully down at him.
With a violent effort, Quinlan wrenched free of the paralysis and leaped down, sending a powerful surge of dark energy at her as he jumped. Before he had even landed, Zenaya held up her hand and jerked it to the side, redirecting his attack into the wall.
"Too little, too late," she murmured, a quick gleam crossing her eyes. For an instant, the intrigue in her expression made her look like Vythia.
Near the wall, Tech grabbed at Wrecker for support and tried to stand. Crosshair fell to his hands and knees, dropping his pistol with a clatter, and when Quinlan tried to reach for his lightsaber, he was caught again in a powerful mental grip. The instant Tech got to his feet, Zenaya pinned him in place with a mere twitch of her fingers before throwing Wrecker sideways into the wall. Hunter was still kneeling in front of her.
Quinlan wrenched unsuccessfully against the invisible chains, and Zenaya gave him a demure look from beneath half-shut eyelids. "You should have listened," she chided quietly. Never taking her gaze from him, she reached down and closed one hand gently around Hunter's throat. "You should have left when I gave you the chance."
