Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns Of Force - Plot & Excerpts
Neither of his fellows had noticed it—a fact that gave him a perverse tickle of pride. Not all Inquisitors were created equal, it seemed. The intriguing sensation grew in strength as they pressed onward, rising several levels to a more affluent sector. As they drew nearer the source, it began to flash across his sight in lambent flurries of sparks. They had just entered a neighborhood in which quartets of resiblocks were built around deeply buried courtyards and plazas when he was brought up short by its intensity. A shower of sparks all but blinded him, his skin flushed with heat, a strange roaring filled his ears, the tang of ozone was in his nostrils … and then it was gone. Completely and utterly gone—as if someone had thrown a thermo-blanket over a fire. Tesla cast about helplessly and futilely, snarling in the rage of bereavement. “It was him! I know it was him!” “Pavan?” asked his second, Yral Chael. “No. Not Pavan. The other.” He felt Chael trade glances with the third of their number, a Corellian named Mas Sirrah.
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