Heir to the Jedi by Kevin Hearne Page A

on. The body was a strong but fairly lightweight insulated mesh, padded and reinforced on the torso and spine, designed to stop kinetic rounds and claws, I supposed. The helmets, by contrast, were almost absurdly heavy and cumbersome. We first had to put on a thick rubber insulation mask that the instructions claimed would shield us from the inevitable use of stun sticks to our own heads. It swept down across our collarbones and across the breadth of our shoulders. Then the helmet was fitted on top of that, so heavy that maintaining balance would be a problem. Any sudden movement forward or backward would tug your body in that direction, as I demonstrated by trying to look down. Nakari threw her head back to laugh at me and fell backward, pawing unsuccessfully at the walls to keep herself upright. We both toggled our comms and laughed at each other.
    “Remember that guy on Pasher as we got on board?” I said. “He advised that we practice somersaults in these!”
    “No way that’s going to happen!” Nakari said. “He must have been messing with us.”
    “Yeah, because I’m not sure I can get up now.”
    “What? Whoa. That could be a problem.”
    It was a problem, though not an insurmountable one. We managed to regain our feet, but not quickly and not without considerable strain. If we went down on Fex, we would not spring back up again. Running for more than a few steps might be impossible.
    “Did they even test these before giving them to us?” I wondered aloud, steadying myself against the walls of the passageway.
    “We should try out the stun sticks,” Nakari suggested.
    “Agreed. If we can’t take a hit now, think of what kind of mess we’ll be in on the surface of Fex. We’ll wind up like that first crew and maybe the second, too.”
    “Who goes first?”
    “Go ahead and try it on me,” I said. “It’s only fair. I ruined the nerf steaks.”
    “Very well, they shall be avenged.” She staggered over to the case of stun sticks and pulled out two, flipping them both on. The air around them rippled for a moment with an energy field and then settled. Lurching toward me and grinning through her visor, Nakari reached out with her right hand and thwacked me on the pate, which I could feel but hardly hear inside the helmet.
    Her voice crackled through the comm. “Anything?”
    “I’m not unconscious, so that’s good,” I said.
    “Copy that. Double strike incoming.” Both sticks pounded on the top of my helmet, but I felt only the indications of a soft impact. She wasn’t striking hard and shouldn’t have to.
    “No effect,” I said, encouraged. “Try the sides and the visor, too.”
    Experimentation continued and we discovered that the visors were not as well shielded. The stun stick didn’t knock me out, but I did feel a shock, jerk away involuntarily, and then topple backward from the weight of the helmet.
    “Okay, good to know,” I said.
    “Good to know they work, that’s for sure,” Nakari said as she helped me up. “I’m going to have a ton of notes on these suits for my father, but I think they should keep us alive long enough to stun anything that lands on us.”
    We had enough empty hours ahead that some rack time was not only feasible but advisable, so we took advantage and asked Artoo to wake us when he was ready to jump into the Deep Core. He did so, and after we guzzled some black, bitter instant caf that succeeded in clearing our heads while savaging our taste buds, I annoyed him by asking to triple-check his coordinates with the
Desert Jewel
’s nav computer. It took him less than ten seconds, but he sounded affronted.
    “Sorry, Artoo, but I’ve never jumped into the Deep Core before. It’s crowded in there and things move fast and this isn’t a well-established route yet, so I think an abundance of caution is warranted.” That seemed to mollify him, and I let him take us in for the jump. It was only fifteen minutes until the white lines of the stars collapsed into