Клаудия Грэй - Into the Dark

The Drengir believe they can use this station to wreak havoc across the galaxy , Reath thought. The Nihil believe they can, too.

Which means if anybody’s going to hold this station, it has to be the Republi c—

But maybe nobody should hold it at all.

Almost at the moment Cohmac would’ve given up all hope of finding a clear path, a glint of illumination revealed just enough space clear of debris for him to bring Dez through to the docking ring.

Dez tried to make it through on his own, but his movements were still slow, uncoordinated. Cohmac had to help him every centimeter of the way, practically dragging him at the end. What had the Drengir done to him? What toxic effects did their poisons have? Was Dez recovering—or was a slower-acting substance working its way through his system, tearing him down?

“Here we are, see?” Cohmac adjusted Dez so he could look ahead, into the entrance of the Vessel . “Back where we belong.”

“The Drengir…”

“No, no,” Cohmac said, hoping Dez could truly understand. “They are gone now. They can hurt you no longer.”

As he hustled them toward the Vessel ’s airlock, a large shadow in the distance—darker than the other shadows—caught Cohmac’s eye for only an instant. In the next, he could see nothing there. But it had looked like…It couldn’t have been…

Cohmac muttered, “Geode?”

The scent of smoke clung to Affie. It seemed to have embedded itself in her clothes, her hair, even her skin. She longed for that incredible bathtub in Scover’s fancy Coruscant hotel room.…

But that was too close to longing for Scover for Affie’s approval. She couldn’t think about that as she crawled back into the guts of the Amaxine station. Her loyalty to Scover couldn’t coexist with her desire to erase the illegal practices that apparently formed such a large part of the Byne Guild’s prosperity. Her love for her adoptive mother was at war with her love for the biological mother she’d lost so long before.

She’ll see how much better it is to do without it , Affie reasoned as she crawled. She’ll be happier knowing her pilots are safe. I won’t have to turn anything in, just show my proof to her, and she’ll back down. It’ll teach her a lesson in the best possible way.

Next up on Affie’s list of places to search was the station’s gravitational matrix. It was located up high—near the very top of the sphere. Instead of crawling, it was time to climb.

When she found the access tube that led upward, her heart sank. It was narrow and showed more signs of age than most other areas of the station; just with the beam of her glow rod, she could make out several places where panels were missing, exposing wires. There was no other illumination in the tube, meaning she’d have to make her way upward in the dark. And vines had grown through holes and slits in the walls, curling all around the tube ladder’s rungs. That would make it slippery, but Affie told herself the tube was almost too narrow for her to fall. At least the 8-Ts were busy.

She began working her way upward, glow rod tied to her utility belt so the beam would point up; instead of clarifying her path, it swayed back and forth, casting eerie wobbling shadows. The vines on the ladder were even trickier to work around than she’d thought, because the slightest pressure sent sap running down the rungs and across her palms.

And by then she understood that no matter how narrow the tunnel was, she could still plummet all the way down. She’d just be more likely to break a limb along the way.

Keep going , she told herself, ignoring the trembling in her muscles as she pulled herself even higher up. You have to keep going—

“Affie!”

The echoing voice startled her so badly she nearly lost her grip. Swearing under her breath, Affie steadied herself and pointed the glow rod’s beam downward. “Leox, what are you doing here?”

He’d stuck his head through the access hatch, which showed her just how dangerously high up she was. “Getting you off this station immediately.”

“I’m not done.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. See, the Drengir want this station. The Nihil want this station. Once they find out about it, my guess is the Republic’s gonna want this station, too, and if not, they’ll blow it to smithereens. Regardless, this place isn’t Byne Guild territory anymore. Even if the Republic leaves it intact, there’s no way Scover can keep using it. Code or no code, no other pilots are going to be forced through here, not ever.”

That should’ve made Affie feel better, but it didn’t. “That’s not enough.”

“Why?”

She ignored this. “I have to keep going.”

“You’re not trying to save the other pilots any longer,” Leox said. “If that was all this is about, you’d have started down that ladder already. What you’re trying to do is save Scover’s soul. That’s not your job, Affie. Only Scover herself can do that.”

Affie leaned her head against the nearest rung of the ladder. Her hands itched; the sap irritated her skin. Leox wasn’t wrong about her reasons—she could see that—but turning back still felt so wrong.

“Affie, please.” The raw pleading in Leox’s voice got to her. “Your life’s not worth one bit less than hers. If you ask me, it’s worth a whole lot more. So will you get back down here?”

She held on for one moment longer, envisioning her long-lost parents in this same tube. If they’d had a way out, they would’ve taken it. They would’ve wanted her to be safe.

It was for them—not for Leox, not even for herself—that Affie finally began descending toward safety.

Recon around the station had only darkened Orla’s take on their chances. She saw no strategic areas to take that would give them an advantage over the Nihil. It took only a few scans to confirm the enormous scale of the Nihil ship; the Vessel would stand no chance in a space battle against it. They literally had no option but to run away and hope they weren’t seen—and with access to the Vessel so limited and hazardous, she wasn’t even sure they’d get a chance to run. And where the heck was Affie?

You need more time , she told herself. So you have to buy some, somehow.

The best way of buying time from an enemy was usually to create a distraction, by making a mess so big that the Nihil would keep themselves busy cleaning it up while the Vessel got away from the Amaxine station.

Exactly how much bigger a mess can I make? The place is already on fire.

Then it hit Orla. I take a mess we already cleaned up and make it messy all over again.

If the Jedi had had so much trouble fighting the Drengir and so much trouble fighting the Nihil, Orla could hardly imagine the trouble they’d have fighting each other .

Sometimes bottling up the darkness only made it stronger. Sometimes you had to let it go.

Running through the broad airlock ring of the Amaxine station, Reath thought, I actually came back to this place of my own free will? I defied orders to do it? Maybe Drengir pollen warps minds.

Once he’d finally gotten within a couple dozen meters of the Vessel without running into any more of the Nihil, he felt encouraged. Better yet was when he caught a flash of white moving amid the shadowy columns of metal—Orla Jareni’s telltale robes.

She looked equally relieved to see him. “Thank the Force. I thought the Nihil might’ve caught up with you,” Orla said, putting one hand on his shoulder.

“They did. Or, actually, Nan did. But she said that since I’d returned her to her fleet once, she’d give me one break. So here I am.”