Crosscurrent by Paul Kemp Page B

the Massassi shouted down the hall. Roaring, he swung his lanvarok in a downstroke for Relin’s head, but Relin sidestepped the blow and it slammed into the deck while Relin drove his lightsaber through the Massassi’s abdomen. The Massassi groaned, dropped his weapon. His clawed hands groped reflexively for Relin’s throat as he died.
    Shouts from down the hall told Relin the dead Massassi’s comrades had heard his call. He took a thermal grenade from his flexsuit, stepped out of the room, and tossed it down the corridor at the onrushing Massassi, each with a blaster and lanvarok bare. Recognition of what he had thrown widened their eyes and they dived for cover, but not before one of them got off a blaster shot.
    Relin deflected it with his lightsaber and ducked back into the room he had vacated as the grenade exploded.
    Flames bathed the corridor in orange. The Massassi’s screams were lost in the explosion and the shock wave rattled Relin’s teeth. Alarms shrieked, and fire foam hissed out of valves in the ceiling.
    Relin heard shouts from the other direction and the stomp of many boots. The ship’s entire security force would be coming. As would Saes. He had to move.
    He drew his blaster with his off hand and pelted down the hall, past the bodies of the Massassi, toward the hyperdrive chamber. The time for stealth was past.
    A pair of Massassi appeared in the hallway before him, both with blasters drawn. Before they could shoot, Relin dropped one with a shot from his own blaster, opening a smoking hole in the Massassi’s black uniform and sending the insignia of rank on his chest skittering across the floor. The second Massassi fired his blaster rapidly while shouting for aid and backing away.
    Relin closed the distance, deflecting the blaster shots with his lightsaber as he ran, leaving a trail of scorch marks in his wake along the wall and ceiling. At five paces the Massassi tried to draw his lanvarok, but Relin lunged forward and was upon him too fast. The clean hum of his lightsaber gave way to a muffled sizzle as he cut the Massassi in two.
    He did not slow, could not slow. Shouts told him that pursuit was right behind him. Alarms were sounding all over the ship. When he reached a thick blast door, an idea struck him and he drove his lightsaber’s tip into the control panel. The circuitry expired with smoke and sparks and the blast door descended with a boom. He assumed his pursuers would be able to go around, but it might buy him a few extra moments.
    Drawing on the Force, he enhanced his speed and ran in a blur for the hyperdrive chamber.
    The young helmsman did not look up from his screen as he spoke to Dor. “Colonel, we are clear of the gravity well. System scans show no additional Jedi ships.”
    Dor nodded. “Begin the jump sequence.”
    As the helmsman obeyed, the weapons officer said, “All Blades are returned to the ship, Colonel Dor.”
    Dor heard the question hiding behind the comment. “The Infiltrator remains in range?”
    “Yes, Colonel.”
    Dor stroked the tentacles of his beard. “You have until we jump to destroy it.”
    The helm recited the jump sequence countdown. The weapons officer gave the order to the gun crews to fire at will.
    Eight Massassi warriors armed with blaster rifles and lanvaroks loitered in the large open room adjacent to the hyperdrive chamber. The quills, lumps, and scars that scored their red flesh made them look deformed.
    Relin slowed only long enough to count their numbers and ensure there were no others. He did not bother to hide himself. They were too alert for that. They saw him, pointed, showed their teeth in a growl. Six pulled their blaster rifles to their shoulders to fire while another spoke into his comlink and the last headed for a wall-mounted alarm.
    Without breaking stride, Relin held up a hand, took telekinetic hold of the blaster rifles aimed at him, ripped them from the Massassi’s hands, and flung them across the large chamber. One fired when