Lorian had not felt the Force in many years. When he reached out and felt it move, it startled him, as if he'd burned his hand.
But within seconds, it all rushed back, and he knew he could depend on it.
Dooku was ahead of him in the narrow passageway, running toward an airspeeder. Dooku must have known very well that Lorian was behind him, but he didn't bother to turn and engage him. Lorian was sure that Dooku was taking no more notice of him than he would a fly.
He had no time to think of strategy. He knew Dooku was vastly more powerful. Why was he doing this? he thought as he ran. Why? It was a death wish, a fool's errand, and he had never courted death or been a fool.
All the wrongs of his life, all the mistakes, all the unforgivable deeds, all the pain he had caused, all the lives he had broken, they were all here in this dark corridor. They would choke him, they would lay him flat, but the Force had touched him just when he needed it, bringing a memory of a childhood when he knew what was right and wanted to do it.
He had a blaster, but he knew its puny power would mean nothing to Dooku. Within seconds it would be wrenched from his grasp and fly across the corridor.
So why use it? Why use any weapon when Dooku could swat it away like a fly?
Lorian had not stopped running while he thought. What did he have that Dooku did not have? What did he know about Dooku that no one else knew? What did he know about him as a boy that would not have changed?
Did he have a flaw?
Pride. He was vain. He liked to be admired.
That wasn't much to go on.
Then Lorian noticed the airspeeder at the end of the corridor, ahead of Dooku. He was familiar with the model. It was a Mobquet twin turbojet with a boosted max airspeed. Mobquet Industries were known for their swoop bikes, not their speeders. Dooku's transport was a good choice for quick getaways, with its boosted airspeed and high maneuverability. But possibly, just possibly, Dooku did not know this: The Mobquet speeder had a flaw. The data cables that connected the frontal controls to the cabin were mounted behind a thin panel on the underside of the body. It would take Lorian about six seconds to find that panel and fuse those cables with a barrage from his blaster.
All he needed was six seconds.
He called ahead, his voice echoing. 'You've done well for yourself, Dooku. But did you ever realize that you couldn't have done it without me?'
Dooku stopped and turned, as Lorian had known he would.
'Excuse me, old friend?'
'The Sith Holocron. You accessed it, didn't you? Sometime later. You could never stand it if I knew something you didn't.'
'Why shouldn't I have accessed it?' Dooku asked.
Lorian kept moving forward. 'Of course you had the right. Yet you never would have had the courage if I hadn't done it first.'
Dooku laughed. 'You are unbelievable. Don't you realize how tempted I am to kill you? And now you're provoking me. You certainly live dangerously, Lorian.'
Lorian had circled around Dooku and stood near the speeder. Dooku was not afraid of him; he would allow him to come as close as he wanted.
Lorian leaned against the speeder, crossing his leg as though he had all the time in the world to chat. 'I realize now that I was wrong when I asked you to cover for me about the Holocron.'
'An apology at this late date? I'm overwhelmed.'
'I should have taken the responsibility myself. I wouldn't have been kicked out of the Jedi Order. I see that now. But now I wonder… why did I think I would?' Underneath the cover of his cloak, Lorian's fingers searched for the panel.
'I find revisiting the past so tedious,' Dooku said. 'If you'll excuse me — '
He put one foot on the speeder, ready to leap inside.
'Could it be that you encouraged my fears? Looking back, I find that strange. I would not have done that to you. I would not have fed your fears, but tried to allay them.' His fingers slid across a seam. He had found the panel.
Dooku's eyes flared. Lorian brought out the blaster and put the barrel against the panel.
The dark side surged in a shocking display of power, and Lorian found himself flung like a child's doll in the air. He slammed against the wall and then hit the floor, dazed. Somehow, he held on to his blaster.
Dooku saw it, of course. 'That was your clumsy attempt at a diversion, I suppose,' he said, drawing his lightsaber with the curved hilt. 'I think I've shown enough mercy. Let us end now what should have ended then.'
He had one last chance. One only. He could blast the panel and prevent Dooku from taking off. Obi-Wan and Anakin would have to do the rest.
If he failed, he would die. If he succeeded, he would also die. He had no doubt about that.
Lorian reached out to the Force to help him. He needed it here, at the last. He felt it grow, and he saw Dooku's eyebrows rise.
'So you haven't lost it completely,' he said. 'Too bad it isn't enough.'
