Free Star Wars - Eruption by John Ostrander Page A

You get the easy job.”
    “The Force be with you.”
    Lanoree turned back to the round wooden table and narrowed her gray eyes. Both sides were already at the breaking point. Violence was ready to erupt. But Lanoree had a theory: Sometimes the best way to cut off violence was to use it first.  Her right hand dropped to the slugthrower at her hip. She didn’t often carry one — didn’t need it most times — but something told her to wear one today. If there’s one thing Lanoree learned through her experience, it was to listen to her instincts.
    With one fluid move, she aimed the slugthrower straight up over her head, and fired three bursts into the ceiling. The arguing stopped dead and all eyes went to the auburn-haired Ranger. Je’daii were mysterious beings to most of the sentients of the Settled Worlds. They went where they willed and intervened where they chose or, they claimed, as the Force directed. They had strange powers and were both respected and feared. Right now, Lanoree was feared.
    Good. That meant she had their attention.
    The slugthrower still in her hand, the Je’daii Ranger sat back in her chair, placing the weapon on the table before her, the barrel pointed at the now silent delegation. She spoke quietly. “The last time I was a negotiator was on Ska Gora. Before I was done, forests were ablaze and one of the parties was dead.”
    She leaned forward. “I was hoping these negotiations would go smoother.”
    In truth, the deaths and the burning forests on Ska Gora haunted Lanoree. The negotiators here on Zerist, however, didn’t need to know that.
    “Perhaps we should begin again,” she suggested in a low murmur. They did, quietly, and with nervous glances in her direction.
    ***
    Certain he hadn’t been seen by anyone, Hawk reached the side of the five-story building and glanced upwards. One guard was directly above him and the other would be across the roof. It was vital that he silence both before they could give alarm — assuming the girl was alive.
    The Ranger brought his sword out of its sheath without a whisper, holding it in his right hand as he let the balance within him slip into the dark side. Hawk knew the dark side well; he dwelled too deeply in it once and it got him sent to Bogan, a moon of Tython where those who drifted too far to the dark side were sent by the Je’daii Council for solitary reflection and meditation until they returned to the balance. Right now he needed to use aggression, however, which meant channeling the dark side. He eased into it with a comfortable familiarity while he crouched and then Leaped straight upward, letting the Force carry him. Hawk cleared the edge of the roof, right in front of the very surprised Twi’lek guard, and without hesitation slashed his sword across the guard’s neck. He died silently.

    The other guard sensed something amiss and started to turn. Hawk gestured with the Force and pulled him across the roof. The guard gasped for a moment before being impaled on the Ranger’s sword. Their eyes met and Hawk recognized him. Deon Aarlaa — one of his brother’s personal guards. Aarlaa’s eyes registered recognition as well, and then life faded from them. Hawk felt his death in the Force and part of him, the part that fed on the dark side, felt a deep satisfaction.
    The Ranger let the body slide off his sword and took a deep breath, centering himself again in the balance. It was tempting for Hawk to just stay in the dark side as had once before. It was seductive but dangerous.
    Hawk found a stairway in the middle of the roof leading down into the building and descended cautiously. Two floors down were two large rooms on either side of the stairwell, the doors left wide open in the haste of the evacuation. At first blush, they appeared to have been used as dormitories for workers that were unmarried; cots were overthrown and debris littered the floor.
    Hugging the stairway wall, Hawk glanced through the doorway and found Oma. The girl