“The starfighters have been ordered off. The city will stand. They’ve surrendered to the Republic. We have no reason to fight.”

Men like us are our own reason.

Mace shook his head. “This isn’t a big dog thing. If I must, I will hurt you. Badly.”

You can’t bluff me.

“No, but I can kill you. Though I would rather not.”

More Jedi rules?

Mace sagged. “Do you have a move to make? I’m too tired for this.”

Sleep when you’re dead, Vastor snarled, and leaped.

Ultrachrome flashed. Mace could have met him, blade to shields, but instead he slipped aside.

He had no intention of fighting this man. Not here and now. Not anywhere. Not ever.

Vastor was younger, stronger, faster, and immensely more powerful, and he wielded weapons that could not be harmed by the Jedi blade. Mace couldn’t win such a battle on his best day, and this day was far from his best: he was exhausted, badly wounded, and heartsick.

But the fact that his lightsaber couldn’t hurt those shields didn’t make them invulnerable.


- Shatterpoint, Chapter 23