Shatterpoint

Nick said softly, "You got any idea what we're go

"We're going to surrender." SURRENDER T

he Highland Green Washeteria was an imposing verdigris-domed edifice of gleaming white tile set off by obsidian grout. When the groundcar pulled up to it, its sign was dark and its elaborate array of arched windows were sealed by durasteel blast shutters.

A block away, the streets were choked with burning wreckage; here, all was dark and still.

The squad's noncom peered dimly through the groundcar's windscreen. "Du

"Maybe he wants a bath," Nick said dryly from the rear compartment, where he sat among the other four sweaty, tired-looking regulars. "Which wouldn't do any of you guys any harm either, I mean, shee." "He's here," Mace said from the front seat next to the noncom. "Let's get out." "I guess he could be here," the noncom admitted reluctantly. "Okay, everybody out." As the squad piled out onto the walkway, the noncom muttered, "I still think we shoulda tried the Ministry. And I probably oughta put binders on you, too." "There's no reason to go to the Ministry," Mace said. "And you don't need the binders." "Ahh, frag the binders anyway. Okay, let's go." The noncom tried the blast-shuttered door.

"Locked." Purple energy flared. Durasteel sizzled. White-hot edges dulled to red, then darkened entirely. Mace said, "No, it isn't." The noncom used the barrel of his blaster rifle as a pry bar to swing open the door. "Hey, what are you guys doing here?" The broad sculpted lobby of the Washeteria had been turned into a heavy-weapons nest. A platoon of militia crouched, squatted, or lay behind temporary barriers of expanded permacrete.

Tripod-mounted repeaters were levelled at the open door. The men's faces were drawn, their eyes round and haunted; here and there a rifle muzzle trembled.

An oddly familiar voice replied, "A guy might want to ask you the same question." "Well, I captured that Jedi everybody's looking for, didn't I," the noncom said. "Here, come on in." Mace stepped around the open door.

"You!" It was the big man from the spaceport pro-bi showers, and he didn't look frightened at all.

Mace said, "How's your nose?" The big man went for his sidearm with an impressively swift draw.

Mace's was faster.

By the time the big man's blaster cleared his holster, Mace was staring at him past the sizzling purple fountain of his blade. "Don't." Nick said, "You guys know each other?" The big man held the blaster steady, aimed at Mace's upper lip. He said sourly, " Capturedhim, did you?" "Uh, sure, Lieutenant-" The noncom blinked uncertainly. "Well, okay, they surrendered, but it's the same thing, right? I mean, he's here, ain't he?" "Stand away from them. All of you. Right now." The squad scattered.

Mace said, "I need to see Colonel Geptun." "Y'know, that's a fu

Mace said, "I can stop it. Those ships your droids are chasing are piloted by men under my command. But if something were to happen to me…" The big man's chin drew down stubbornly. His men frowned at each other; some bit their lips or shifted their weight. One of them said doubtfully, "Hey, Lou, y'know-I got two kids, and Gemmy's up with another-" "Shut it." "Your choice is straightforward," Mace said. "You can follow orders and open fire. Most of you will die. And your families will be left out there. Without you. And without any hope other than that their deaths might be quick.

"Or you can bring me to Colonel Geptun. Save hundreds of thousands of lives. Including your own.

"Do your duty. Or do what's right. It's up to you." The big man ground out his words between clenched teeth. "You know the last time I could breathe okay?" he growled, pointing at his nose. "Guess. Go on. Guess." "Yours is not the only nose I've broken on this planet," Mace said evenly. "And you deserved it more than he did." The big man's knuckles whitened on the blaster.

Mace lowered his lightsaber but kept its blade humming. "Why don't you call the colonel and ask? It is possible," he said with half a nod back toward the bloody chaos outside, "that he has changed his mind." The lieutenant's scowl thickened until it broke under its own weight. He shook his head disgustedly and let his gun arm fall to his side. "They don't pay me enough for this." He came out from behind the permacrete barrier and went to the house comm at the hostess desk. A brief conversation went on in undertones. When it was over, he looked even more disgusted. He returned his blaster to its holster and waved his empty hand at his men. "Awright, stand down, everybody. Put 'em away." While his men complied, he walked over to Mace. "I'll need your weapons." From behind Mace's shoulder, Nick said, "You don't have to take our weapons." "Don't quit your day job, kid." The lieutenant held out his hand. "Come on: I can't bring you down there armed." Mace silently handed over his lightsaber. Nick flushed while he dangled his pistols from one finger through each trigger guard.

The lieutenant took both pistols in one hand, and weighed Mace's lightsaber in the palm of the other. He gave it a thoughtful frown. "The colonel said you're Mace Windu." "Did he?" The officer looked the Jedi Master in the eye. "Is it true? You're really him? Mace Windu?" Mace admitted it.

"Then maybe I don't mind the nose so much." The big man shook his head ruefully. "I guess I'm lucky to be alive at all, huh?" "You," Mace said, "should consider a new line of work." The entrance to the Republic Intelligence station was a waterproof hatch; it was disguised as part of the checkered tile pattern on the bottom of a steaming mineral bath fed by the natural hot springs below the Washeteria. The lieutenant led Mace and Nick to a wading-stair from the deck down into the shallow end. Two sweating regulars brought up the rear, rifles slanted across their chests.

Nick made a face. "Stinks in here. People really want to go in that?" "Not many, I bet," the big man said. "If they did, it wouldn't make a real good secret entrance, would it?" A concealed latch opened a code panel that swung down from the stair rail. The lieutenant tucked Mace's lightsaber under his arm so he could punch some keys, and the field generator built into the stairs and the pool floor hummed to life. An electric crackle heralded the opening of a cha