If she went back to the farm, nothing would have changed and she would be no nearer to delivering the information. She had no choice but to go on.
The bank was overgrown in places and she stepped into the river, knowing it would be shallow. The knowledge didn’t make it any more pleasant to wade in sodden boots. But it was a reliable route, and it kept the gdans from trying their luck with her.
They were wary of Jinart. Etain wondered why the Force didn’t deter them from stalking her as well. It was more confirmation, if she ever needed it, that she really wasn’t much of a Jedi when it came to utilizing the Force. She had to concentrate. She had to find that single-minded sense of both purpose and acceptance that had so long eluded her.
Although Etain had clearly not yet come close to mastering control of the Force, she could see and feel beyond the immediate world. She could feel the nocturnal creatures around her; she even felt the little silver weed-eels parting to avoid her before they brushed her boots on the way downstream.
Then she became aware of something she wasn’t expecting to encounter in the wilds of the Imbraani woods.
A child.
She could feel a child nearby. There was something unusual about the child, but it was definitely a youngster, and there was a feeling of loss about it. She couldn’t imagine any of the townspeople letting a child out at night with gdans about.
Ignore it. This isn’t your problem now.
But it was a child. It wasn’t afraid. It was anxious, but not scared as any sensible child should have been, wandering around alone at night.
Suddenly there was something touching her forehead. She put out her hand instinctively as if shooing away an insect, but there was nothing there. And still she felt something right between her brows.
It dipped briefly to her chest, exactly on her sternum, and back up to her forehead. Then she was suddenly blinded by a light of painful intensity that shot out of the darkness and overwhelmed her.
She had nothing to lose. She drew her lightsaber, prepared to die on her feet if nothing else. She didn’t need to see her opponent.
There was a slight ah sound. The light snapped off. She could still sense a child right in front of her.
“Sorry, ma’am,” a man’s voice said. “I didn’t recognize you.”
And still she detected only a child, so close that it had to be next to the man. For some reason she couldn’t sense him in the Force at all.
Red ghost-images of the light still blinded her. She held her lightsaber steady. When her vision cleared, she knew exactly who she was staring at, and she also knew Jinart had betrayed her.
She’d probably betrayed Fulier, too.
Etain could see the distinctive full-face Mandalorian helmet of Ghez Hokan.
The sinister T-shaped slit told her all she needed to know. She raised the lightsaber. Both his hands were resting on his rifle. Perhaps the child—the unseen child—had been a lure, a distraction projected by Jinart.
“Ma’am? Put the weapon down, ma’am—”
“Hokan, this is for Master Fulier,” she hissed, and swung at him.
Hokan leapt back with astonishing reflexes. She didn’t recognize his voice: it was younger, almost accentless. He didn’t even raise his rifle. The monster was playing with her. She spun on the ball of her foot and very nearly took his arm off. Sudden rage constricted her throat. She slashed again but found only air.
“Ma’am, please don’t make me disarm you.”
“Try it,” she said. She beckoned him forward with one hand, lightsaber steady in the other. “You want this? Try me.”
He launched himself at her, hitting her square in the chest and knocking her backward into the river. The child was stillthere. Where? How? And then Hokan was on top of her, holding her under the water with one hand, and she dropped the lightsaber. She fought and choked and thought she was going to drown and she had no idea why she couldn’t fight off an ordinary man with both her fists. She should have been able to muster more physical strength than this human.
He hauled her up out of the water one-handed and dumped her on the riverbank flat on her back, holding both her arms down.
“Ma’am, steady now—”
But she wasn’t finished yet. With an animal grunt she drove her knee up hard between his thighs, as hard as she could, and when she was frightened and desperate and angry that was very hard indeed. She hadn’t known it until now.
Etain gasped as her knee went crack. It hurt. But it didn’t seem to hurt him.
“Ma’am, with respect, please shut up. You’re going to get us both killed.” The sinister mask loomed over her. “I’m not Hokan. I’m not him. If you just calm down I’ll show you.” He loosened his grip slightly and she almost struggled free. Now his tone was bewildered. “Ma’am, stop this, please. I’m going to let go and you’re going to listen to me explain who I am.”
Her breath was coming in gasps and she coughed water. The ever-present child so disoriented her that she stopped trying to dislodge him and let him struggle to his feet.
Etain could see him—it—clearly now. She could see well in the darkness, better than a normal human. She was staring at a huge droid-like creature clad in pale gray armor plates with no face and no markings. And it had a blaster rifle. It– he—held out a hand as if to pull her to her feet.
Well, it wasn’t Ghez Hokan. That was all she could tell. She took his armored hand and got to her feet.
“What in creation’s name are you?” she managed to ask.
“Ma’am, my apologies. I didn’t recognize you at first. This is entirely my fault for failing to identify myself correctly.” He touched black-gloved fingers briefly to bis temple, and she noticed the knuckle plate on the back of the gauntlets. “Commando of the Grand Army CC-one-one-three-six, ma’am. I await your orders, General.”
“General?” Voices coming from things that appeared to have no lips reminded her too much of droids.
He tilted his head slightly. “My apologies. I didn’t see the braid… Commander.”
“And what’s the Grand Army?”
“The Republic’s army, ma’am. Sorry. I should have realized that you’ve been out of contact with Coruscant for a while now, and …”
“Since when did we acquire a Grand Army?”
“About ten years ago.” He gestured to the bushes along the bank. “Shall we discuss this somewhere less public? You’re presenting something of a target to anyone with a night scope. I think even the local militia can manage one of those between them.”
“I dropped my lightsaber in the river.”
“Let me get it, ma’am,” he said. He stepped into the shallow water, and the light on his helmet flicked on. He bent down and fumbled in the illuminated water, then stood up with the hilt in his hand. “Please don’t use it on me again, will you?”
Etain raked her soaking hair back from her face with chilled fingers. She took the lightsaber carefully. “I don’t think I’d have much luck anyway. Look, why are you calling me Commander?”
“Ma’am, Jedi are all officers now. You are a Jedi, aren’t you?”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“No offense, ma’am—”
“I’d ask the same question if I were you.” Commander. Commander? “I’m Padawan Etain Tur-Mukan. Master Kast Fulier is dead. It seems you’re the soldier I have to help.” She looked up at him. “What’s your name?”
“Ma’am, Commando CC—”
“Your name. Your real name.”
He hesitated. “Darman,” he said, sounding as if he were embarrassed by it. “We need to get out of here. They’re looking for me.”