Dynasty of Evil by Drew Karpyshyn Page B

blaster, pointing it at Set. But his hands were trembling so much he couldn’t even keep the barrel steady.
    Set shook his head. “If you’re going to kill somebody so you can steal their credits, at least go after an easy target.”
    “You liar,” Quano replied, his voice rising defensively. “You said you no Jedi.”
    With a flick of his wrist, Set used the Force to slap the pistol from Quano’s hand. Another gesture lifted the helpless bartender off the ground and yanked him across the room, where he landed in a crumpled ball at Set’s feet.
    Reaching down to seize one of the Rodian’s antennae, Set used it to pull his whimpering victim up to his knees. His free hand brought the blade of his still-ignitedlightsaber to within a few centimeters of Quano’s scaly face.
    “Let’s get one thing clear. I’m not a Jedi.”
    To emphasize his point, he flicked his blade, caressing it against the Rodian’s cheek for a fraction of a second. The sizzle of smoldering flesh was drowned out by Quano’s scream.
    “No kill, no kill!” he blubbered.
    The damage was minor; a burn that would heal within a week while leaving only a faint scar. But Set was satisfied his point had been made. Shutting off his lightsaber, he released his grip on the antenna and took a step back, giving Quano room to stand.
    The Rodian stayed on his knees, his hand reached up gingerly to examine his wound.
    “Now why would I want to kill you?” Set asked him. “You’re the only one who can take me to the miners and their talismans. Until I have them in my hands, I’ll do everything I can to keep you alive.”
    “What happen after you get them?” Quano asked, suspicious.
    Set flashed him his most charming smile. “At that point, we’ll just have to play it by ear.”
    Set could hear the voices of the miners echoing down the tunnel. He estimated they were only a few hundred meters away; from the tone of the echoes he suspected they were in a large, high-roofed cavern.
    They live like vermin, huddled in underground warrens, afraid for their lives. Pathetic .
    Ahead, his unwilling guide suddenly stopped and turned to look back at him. It wasn’t easy to read a Rodian’s expression, but it was clear what Quano was asking: I brought you this far—can I go now?
    Set simply shook his head and pointed farther downthe tunnel. Shoulders sagging, Quano continued to shuffle forward.
    They were close enough now that Set could actually make out what the miners were saying to one another.
    “You can’t be serious!” a deep-voiced man shouted. “The nobles murdered Gelba! We have to make them pay!”
    “If they got Gelba, they can get anyone,” another man protested. “I think we should lay low for a while. Let things simmer down.”
    “I agree,” a woman chimed in. “I know Gelba was your friend, Draado. But you’re talking madness!”
    Set could see light from the entrance to the cavern spilling around a bend in the tunnel just up ahead. Quano crept around the corner silently and crouched behind a rock that gave him a clear view of their quarry. He might have been a coward, Set noted as he moved up to join him, but he had a natural talent for sneaking and spying.
    From their vantage point he could clearly see the cave. It was dotted with dozens of large stalagmites protruding up like ugly brown spires from the floor. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, looking ominously like the teeth of some ancient stone monster waiting to chomp down on the people below.
    He counted an even dozen miners gathered in a loose semicircle near the center of the chamber. All of them were armed, just like the four guards he had dispatched at the tunnel’s entrance not ten minutes earlier. A few of the miners were sitting on short, flat-topped rock formations. Others paced nervously back and forth. One leaned against a nearby stalagmite. Two men and a woman appeared to be engaged in a heated argument. Four others were standing guard on the edges of the group,