Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force (20 page)

He turned back to his workstation, desperately trying to herd his scattered neurons back into some semblance of order. He didn’t have the bota. Perhaps he was no closer to knowing who did, though he strongly suspected the little Sullustan. All that foot-dragging and naysaying was most likely just a smoke screen.

But suspicions did him no good at all. The Sullustan was currently out of reach, Inquisitors prowled the streets nearby, and the droid was preparing to put them between a rock and a rancor.

He tried to list his options. Rhinann truly believed that any crisis must be answered with a good list. Creating lists ordered the mind, calmed the blood, lowered the chaos level.

He could run now. That would be safest. But nearness to yet another Force prodigy had reminded him viscerally of what he was missing. That boy—that mere child—had
killed an Inquisitor and had even caused Jax Pavan some concern. If he could experience but a fraction of what it was like to be possessed of such
power …

He could bide his limited time and continue to press Den Dhur about the bota. He had already decided he would ask I-Five. He supposed a direct approach might yield better results.

He turned these ideas in his head for a moment, then blew another high note of exasperation through his tusks. What was he thinking? They had zero chance of remaining hidden from the dark gaze of Darth Vader. Certainly not with that boy radiating the Force every which way, and not with that obnoxious mech evidently determined to make a martyr of himself for Jax Pavan’s cause. One way or another, they were going to end up in Vader’s parlor, and when they did it would not be pretty. Vader would have Jax Pavan, Kajin Savaros, the sentient droid, the Sith Holocron, the pyronium, and the bota. Rhinann wasn’t sure what all that added up to, but he knew it wasn’t good. Vader held the winning array, any way he looked at it.

There was only one conclusion that made sense, unpalatable though it was. Rhinann reluctantly realized that he was simply on the wrong side.

At 0350 hours, Den and I-Five prepared to retrieve Dejah and tend to the removal of the Togrutan female from Coruscant. In such cases, Dejah’s twin talents of telempathy and pheromone production were especially effective. She could not only create an atmosphere of emotional safety that would ease the client’s passage offworld, but also knew when that atmosphere needed to be bolstered and when it could be withdrawn.

It was agreed that Jax should stay with Kaj and work on the field generators of Volette’s light sculptures. To his surprise, Laranth elected to stay and help him.

Just before he left, I-Five took Jax aside. “I expect my part in this will be completed by roughly twelve hundred hours. I have thus arranged to meet with Tuden Sal late this evening at the Sunset Cantina to give him our answer to his proposal.”

The words twisted Jax’s gut and made his lungs feel suddenly starved for air. “And what are you going to tell him?”

The droid tilted his head to one side and looked at Jax quizzically. “I said
our
decision and I meant
our
decision. You are a part of this, Jax. Therefore, when I return from this transfer, I think we should talk.”

“You realize those words are still scary even coming from a droid,” Jax replied. “You’d think a Jedi would be impervious to such things.”

“Why so?”

“We’re supposed to be centered, brave, in tune with the universe …”

“None of which supposes that you’re also numb or uncaring. Have you thought about it?”

Jax nodded. He had, mostly while he was supposed to be sleeping. Somehow the thought of I-Five assassinating the Emperor made him think of the bota. And he wasn’t comfortable thinking about the bota. It suggested another course to him altogether—one that was fraught with ambiguity and peril.

“I’m torn,” was all he said—though he was much more than that, he realized with a jolt. Ambivalence flooded him as if from an unseen cloud. He shook himself.
I must have been too caught up in everything else that was going on to let it get to me
.

That didn’t quite ring true. He’d thought about it whenever he’d lain on his bed in an attempt to sleep. It just hadn’t penetrated him until now. Not like this.

“I promise I’ll give it more concentrated thought. I know I need to. Can I ask what your thoughts are at this point?”

“You can ask,” said I-Five, then turned and went to join the others for the Whiplash mission.

Alone with Kaj and Laranth, Jax set his mind to learning the ins and outs of the photonic field generators in Ves Volette’s kinetic art. The boy watched, obviously impressed with the ability of the two Jedi to tinker with the devices’ mechanics.

“Is that part of your Jedi training?” he asked at one point.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” His attention on the guts of the sculpture, Jax moved a fibrous light-emitter array slightly and noted the corresponding movement of a fan of pulsing light in the air above his head.

Laranth said, “It looks as if aiming them is easy
enough, but what about increasing the frequency of the pulses?”

“Why would you need to do that?” Kaj asked.

“The more frequent the pulses, the more solid the wall. It’s like weaving a net. The more frequent or closer together the fibers of the net, the less gets through.”

Glancing at Kaj, Jax saw the light of comprehension dawn in his eyes. “I understood that,” he said. “So you worked on stuff like this in Jedi school?”

Jax and Laranth exchanged glances. “Every Jedi has to build and maintain his or her own lightsaber,” Jax told Kaj. “So we learn all the mechanics and physics of it. That’s everything from fashioning a hilt to selecting a crystal to putting it together with a field generator not unlike this one.” He nodded at the innards of the sculpture’s low, bowl-like duraluminum stand.

“But you didn’t build
that
lightsaber.”

Jax glanced down at the weapon hanging at the belt of his tunic. “No.”

“Doesn’t it make you feel strange to use that one? I mean, it’s
red
.”

Jax glanced at Laranth’s deadpan expression, then smiled wryly. “You mean because it’s what the Inquisitors use?”

“Well … yeah.”

“It does make me feel strange. I’ve been meaning to finish the one I started to build myself, but …”

But what?

“What’s stopped you?” Laranth asked. Her attention was on the selection of tools in Volette’s kit.

Good question. What
had
stopped him? “I didn’t have a power source that would resonate with the Ilum crystal to generate a coherent field.”

Kaj pointed at the open console on the light bowl. “Isn’t that one?”

The kid was quick, he had to give him that. Jax
blinked at the core of the light sculpture. The circuit board Kaj indicated was indeed a resonating power source, and he’d known it for some time. He’d also known that these sculptures and their component parts were just sitting here, waiting. Why hadn’t he asked Dejah if he could use one of them? She’d offered to sell them for upkeep, let him tinker with them for Kaj’s sake, so why not a power source for his lightsaber?

“You’re right,” he said. “I’ll have to ask about that.” He sensed Laranth’s bemusement and pointedly ignored it.

“What’ll you do with the old one?”

Jax could feel the boy’s attention on the weapon that hung at his hip.

Kaj continued, “I mean, you’ll have to teach me to use one, right? And there’s probably not the time or resources to build two …”

Jax grinned at the youthful enthusiasm. He wasn’t that much older than Kaj, he realized—less than five years—but he felt positively wizened in comparison.

In one corner of the room near Ves Volette’s workbench, a ping alerted him to the arrival of a message. With a glance at Laranth, Jax crossed to the workstation to view the source of the message. It was Rhinann.

Jax activated the HoloNet node. “Rhinann, is anything wrong?”

The Elomin’s craggy face said that a great deal was wrong. “Pol Haus has contacted us,” he said. “He wishes to speak to you.”

“Is this about the …” Jax glanced at Kaj again. “The matter he brought to us recently?”

“Oh, indeed. He wishes to know if we ‘have anything for him on the matter of the rogue Jedi.’ Those were his exact words.”

Jax felt the “rogue Jedi’s” sudden, intense regard. It was not comfortable. “Tell Prefect Haus that we’ve been tied up with another matter and haven’t got anything
for him yet. Tell him we still need to research the various connections.”

“I already told him that. He wishes to speak to you.”

“He’s there?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Are you …” Jax made a gesture with his hand that was Whiplash code for “cloaked” or “cloaking.” He hoped Rhinann would take his meaning and make sure his surroundings and location were obscured.

The Elomin inclined his head, then said, “Will you speak to him?”

“Of course.” Jax turned his head slightly and signaled Kaj to stay on the other side of the room. Wide-eyed, the youth disappeared behind his wall of woven light.

Haus appeared in the holographic display as a full-sized head and shoulders floating in thin air. “Jax Pavan!” he said in a tone that was almost jovial. “Your associate tells me you’ve no news for me about the item I’m seeking. Is this in fact the case?”

Jax caught a muffled and miffed
harrumph
from Rhinann. “My associate is apparently insulted that you don’t trust him, Prefect.”

“It has nothing to do with trust. It has to do with your function in that motley bunch of misfits you call an investigative team. The client has been leaning on me to get results. So far all I’ve gotten from my informants—and you from yours, I suspect—are looks that say my brain is fried on dreamspice if I think they’re going to tell me anything. May I remind you that the closer our client is to me, the closer he is to you?”

Jax took a deep breath. “I understand that part of the equation just fine.”

“Good. Remember, this isn’t a threat. It’s a warning. If the client thinks we’re stonewalling him, it will not be good for either of us. Incompetence he will overlook—for a time—but not subterfuge. We need to show him
something.” Haus tilted his shaggy, horned head and peered at Jax intently. “Do your research, Pavan. But do it soon, or the client is going to force my hand.”

“I’m not sure where to start.”

“Banthaflop. I know you. That head of yours is as smart as a whip. You’ll figure it out.”

He was gone then, leaving Jax to stand rooted to the studio floor.

He knows. Somehow he knows we have Kaj
.

Jax did need to complete that “research.” If he’d read Haus’s code right, he knew where he was supposed to do it. He turned to Laranth, who stood by, brow furrowed.

“You heard that?” At her nod, he asked, “Do you know what he’s hinting at?”

“Not firsthand. I don’t know any more about him than that he’s a sector prefect. Obviously we’re supposed to construe that the head of the Whiplash knows more.”

“Can you set up a meeting with Yimmon? I’d like his opinion … about a couple of things, actually.”

“Including Tuden Sal’s mad plot?”

“Do you think it’s mad?”

“Do you care what I think?” There was a challenge in those green eyes.

“Yes, of course I care. How could I not care?”

She shrugged. “When you left me in the medbay, you didn’t seem to care. You were suddenly very future-oriented.”

“When I left you in the medbay—” Jax began, then remembered that they had an audience: Kaj was watching their interaction with avid interest. Jax nodded at the light sculptures. “We should probably get back to work.”

“Yes,” said Laranth, deadpan expression back in full force. “We probably should.”

By the time they had accomplished the task, Jax was so tired he saw floating afterimages of light in reverse colors interacting with the product of their work. But they now had Kaj encircled by a series of half a dozen fans of illumination pulsing so swiftly that they seemed to sparkle.

Pleased with the effect, Jax had Kaj try a series of Force exercises and was rewarded by finding not a single leak. He and Laranth even went up in the gallery and leaned out over the lambent “roof” of the light structure. Nothing of what Kaj did escaped, even when he executed a Force leap that took him up to the level of the gallery rail.

“Am I really safe in here?”

His child-like uncertainty was engaging. Jax grinned. “Yeah. I think you are.”

“So what’s next?” the boy asked eagerly. “Can you teach me to use a lightsaber?”

Jax’s grin grew wider as he glanced at Laranth. He could just imagine what she thought of Kaj’s enthusiasm for the Jedi weapon. As usual, her expression revealed nothing.

“You want to talk up the blaster as a weapon of choice?” he asked.

She shook her head. “The philosophy of the Gray Paladins is simply that each Jedi should choose the style of
weapon that best suits him or her. From what I’ve seen of Kajin’s ‘style’ I’d say he may not need any weapon at all.”

The boy looked crestfallen. “I like lightsabers.”

“Then use a lightsaber, by all means. I’m sure Jax can help you build one.”

“Can we use the hilt of that one?” Kaj nodded at the Sith weapon.

“Sure.”

“Really? It doesn’t have to be—y’know—original?”

“A hilt can be made out of anything the Jedi is comfortable holding,” Laranth said.

“Can we start now?” Kaj asked.

“Building a lightsaber? No,” Jax said. “I need to—”

“No, I meant me learning to use one.”

Jax considered the idea, his eyes roving around the studio for some suitable surrogate for a lightsaber. He found a long piece of duraluminum about two and a half centimeters thick and only a bit shorter than a standard blade. Taking a remote, which he’d packed earlier, from his bag, he entered the cage of light, activated the droid, and tossed it into the air where it hung, humming, awaiting his instructions.

“Is that a toy?” Kaj asked.

“Not exactly. It’s a practice droid—a remote. It’s what every Padawan starts out with. It shoots EM beams at you, and you try to parry them before they hit you.” He gestured Kaj to a place along the sidelines. “Watch,” he said.