He used the sensors in his helmet to check for traps, but found none … which wasn’t surprising, since the Shadow Academy’s attack had been completely unexpected; the Jedi Knights had not had time to prepare.
Orvak entered the Massassi temple, shouldering his pack. He raced down the corridors, unfamiliar with the layout of the pyramid. He saw living quarters, large dining halls … nothing of significance that he could destroy.
He made his way down to the rubble-sealed hangar bay, where he thought he could plant his detonators to best effect and blow up all the Rebel starfighters. But when he emerged from the turbolift, he squinted in the dim lighting, unable to believe what he saw. Orvak found only a single, sleek-looking ship, all curves and angles. Nothing more. No fleet of spacecraft, no major defenses. He snorted in disbelief.
Suddenly, alarms squealed out from the hangar bay. Flashing red lights stabbed at his eyes. A small barrel-shaped droid hurtled toward him, whistling and screeching. Blue electric bolts sparked from a welding arm that protruded from its cylindrical torso.
Orvak slammed himself back into the turbolift, punching the controls to seal the doors. Could the Jedi have installed a force of assassin droids? Lethal, weapon-wielding machines that would never, ever miss?
But as the doors sealed shut and the turbolift whisked him upward, his last glimpse showed him that the attacker was simply a lone astromech droid trundling across the floor, sounding the standard alarms installed in its base. Apparently, however, no one remained in the temple to hear them.
He chuckled nervously. One astromech droid! It annoyed him when mere machines held too great a sense of their own importance. He no longer feared a trap.
Orvak had to find a different place for his purposes anyway. Someplace more special.
He finally located it on the highest level of the great pyramid.
Taking the turbolift to the top, and holding his blaster ready to shoot anyone who came out of the shadows, the Imperial commando stepped into the grand audience chamber.
Here, the walls were polished and inlaid with multicolored stones. At one end rose a great stage, from which Orvak could imagine the Rebels gave lectures to their students, handed medals to each other after victories in the war against the rightful rulers of the galaxy, perhaps even performed their disgusting rituals.
Yes, he thought. Perfect.
Moving quickly, heart pounding with the thrill of accomplishing the mission that had already cost the life of his companion Dareb, Orvak unslung his pack. He pulled off his black helmet to see better in the light that filtered through the temple skylights.
Smoke blackened the sky outside, like burnt paint brushed across the air. Distant sounds of the continuing attack echoed like ricochets inside the audience chamber. But he heard no one else nearby, no movement. The temple was empty, and he had the time to work.
Orvak strode up to the stage, his boots thumping on the stone floor. Yes, that would be the best place, a central location where the incredible blast could reflect from all sides. He yanked off his heavy gloves so that he could tinker with the fine electronic components.
Working cautiously, he removed his seven remaining high-powered detonators and linked them together. Then, he plugged all of the explosives into a central countdown timer and spread them out like the spokes of a wheel in the grand audience chamber.
Yes, it would be a fine explosion.
Ideally, when all the detonators went off simultaneously, the explosion would rip off the top of the temple like a volcano erupting. The shock wave would punch through the floor to the levels below and blast the walls outward. The entire pyramid would come tumbling down, no more than a pile of ancient rubble—as it deserved to be.
Orvak returned to the central unit and fiddled with the controls, kneeling on the polished surface of the stage. He thought with smug satisfaction that no more Rebels would ever lecture here. No future Jedi Knights would learn Rebel ways. This room would hold no more victory celebrations.
Soon it would all be gone.
Kneeling on the ground, Orvak keyed in the initiating code. All around the chamber, detonator lights winked green, ready to go, waiting for him to send the final command. Surveying his handiwork, he smiled and pressed the activate button. The timer began to count down. Not much time left for the Jedi academy.
As he moved, resting his hand on the floor, Orvak caught a glimmer of motion out of the corner of his eye … something glittering and translucent, almost transparent; it had caught a reflection of the light somehow.
He pulled out his blaster, remaining in a protective crouch. “Who’s there?” he called.
Then he saw it again, an iridescent sinuous shape slithering toward him across the stage. He lost sight of it once more.
Orvak fired his blaster, gouging holes in the floor around him. Streaks of energy bolts ricocheted around him. He flattened himself on the stage, afraid of return fire. He couldn’t see the shimmering invisible thing anymore, and wondered what it could have been. Some sorcerer’s trick, no doubt. He shouldn’t have dropped his guard, but the Jedi would never get him.
Just then, Orvak felt needles of pain sting his hand. He looked down to see tiny droplets of blood welling from two punctures in his palm—and the triangle head of some kind of viper, a glassy crystalline snake!
“Hey!” he shouted.
Before he could lash out at it, the crystal snake dropped away from him and slithered toward a narrow crack in the wall. Orvak saw a last spangle of light, and then the serpent disappeared… .
But by now he was beyond caring, because a warm fog of sleepiness had begun to steal over him. The pain from the snakebite in his hand dulled to a throb, and Orvak thought drowsily that a long sleep could only make it better.
He collapsed into a deep slumber right beside the countdown timer.
The numbers ticked inexorably downward.
15
Tenel Ka stood at the edge of the Imperial battle platform, her muscles tense, her body and reflexes ready to react.
She coiled her fibercord before returning it and the grappling hook to her belt. Then, with her single muscular arm, she held up her rancor-tooth lightsaber and ignited it. Beside her towered Lowbacca, ginger fur standing on end, dark lips peeled back to reveal fangs. The Wookiee used both hands to grip his clublike lightsaber with its molten bronze blade.
Surprised to see unexpected enemies, stormtroopers on the battle platform marched forward with blasters drawn, confident of their victory.
Em Teedee wailed. “Oh dear, Master Lowbacca—perhaps we should have planned this attack a bit more thoroughly.”
Lowie snarled, but Tenel Ka stood tall, her confidence unshaken. “The Force is with us,” she said. “This is a fact.”
A single TIE bomber swooped overhead, dropping proton torpedoes into the forests. The sounds of blaster fire ricocheted around them.
On the raised command deck of the battle platform, the Nightsister Tamith Kai stood in her black cloak like a preening bird of prey. She turned, her midnight hair writhing around her head with static electricity, her wine-dark lips curled in a sneer. Tenel Ka and Lowie took three brave steps toward the waiting stormtroopers.
One of the white-armored soldiers, apparently nervous at seeing the two young Jedi Knights, fired his blaster—and Tenel Ka whipped her energy blade across to intersect the incoming energy bolt, deflecting it into the sky.
Then, by unspoken agreement, she and Lowie charged forward, yelling. They slashed with their lightsabers so furiously that though the stormtroopers sent out a volley of blaster fire, they were thrown into chaos. Lowie and Tenel Ka forced their way through them like a whirlwind.
On the command deck above, Tamith Kai strode forward to gaze down at the skirmish. “The girl is mine. I’ll crush her heart myself,” she said.