Чарльз Соул: Star Wars: Light of the Jedi (The High Republic)

The commander of the Eriaduan phalanx. Governor Mural Veen.

“Admiral Kronara,” the woman said. “We acknowledge that the Republic takes first position in this engagement, but we would request the courtesy of being allowed to take the Nihil flagship, considering the injustice these creatures visited upon our system.”

“Fine, Governor,” he agreed. “Be my guest.”

He didn’t even have to think about it. If the Eriaduan contingent wanted to attempt a boarding assault against the sort of enemy the Nihil had proven to be, more power to them. He suspected they would enjoy it, would find it a way to balance the scales.

And once they had the ship subdued, they could, perhaps, get some answers. There had to be a person in a position of power on the Nihil flagship. There was so much the Republic didn’t know about this organization and desperately needed to.

The Eriaduan vessels did not hesitate. As soon as authorization was given, they began to dart in, stabbing inward toward the Nihil flagship like the spear tips they resembled.

Kronara had seen a reek hunt once, on Ylesia. It had been like this. It wasn’t one big wound that killed the massive beast, but many small attacks, bleeding it out, until in the end, the huge creature had just lain down on the ground and died.

Every attack by the Eriaduans disabled one of the Nihil vessel’s systems. Propulsion, weapons bays, shields…one by one, they fell. The ship was crippled, now just a hulk floating in the void.

Kronara watched as the largest of the Eriaduan ships approached the dead Nihil vessel, in preparation for docking and boarding.

He did not envy any Nihil left alive on that ship. Not even a little bit.

Kassav sat in his command chair on the bridge of his once-beautiful ship. The music had stopped—just static coming from the speaker systems now. The deck was full of smoke from fried systems, but his mask filtered it out and left him able to see.

For instance, he could see the battle display screen, which showed him that his strong, powerful fleet was all but gone. A few little ships here or there, still valiantly fighting to the last…but that was all. What was left was no Tempest, and certainly not a Blaze. Barely a Strike, really.

Marchion Ro and his father had given the Nihil the Paths. Every last ship was equipped with a Path engine, directly connected to the hyperdrive and control systems. That machine let them do incredible things—ride along hidden roads behind the fabric of space, perform feats no other ships could match.

The Paths made the Nihil strong. And, as Kassav had realized too late, far too late, the Path engines made them weak. Marchion had simply…taken control. Put the ships where he wanted them. He didn’t know why—revenge, certainly, and some sort of power play, but there had to be more than that. The complexities were beyond him just then. Honestly, it didn’t matter anymore.

He heard the sounds of combat behind him and realized that soon enough, the last of the thousand or so fools who had decided to follow his leadership would be dead. His Storms, Gravhan, Dellex, and Wet Bub…all gone.

Kassav decided to tell the Eriaduans everything he knew. He could make a deal. He was good at that. There was so much he could tell them—about Marchion Ro and the other Nihil. Things they’d want to know.

“You are in command of this ship?”

Kassav spun his command chair, to see the Eriaduans. They wore battle armor and stood ramrod-straight, and made Kassav wish very much that he had chosen a different system from which to extort fifty million credits.

At the front was a gray-haired, blade-thin woman, and Kassav now realized he had no chance of surviving this. Not because of her imposing physical presence, or the blaster in her hand, or the blood spattering her armor to which she paid absolutely no mind.

No, his time was up because Kassav thought he recognized the woman’s voice, and if he was right, there was no deal to be made here. No way. But he had to try.

“I can help you,” he said. “We should talk. Seriously. Let’s make a deal.”

“I know what your deals are worth, Kassav Milliko,” replied Mural Veen, planetary governor of Eriadu, the very woman to whom he had made promises he had not fulfilled, and stolen from, and—

She shot him.

Admiral Kronara stood in silence on the bridge of the Third Horizon. None of the other crewmembers said a word, either.

They all just watched as the final Nihil ship, a small attack vessel of some kind, like a patched-together little freighter with no hope of doing any damage whatsoever to an Emissary -class Republic Cruiser, flew into the path of the Third Horizon ’s laser batteries and exploded.

The green light of the Kur Nebula illuminated a scene of utter destruction. Pieces of starships of all sizes drifted free across the battlespace. Most were Nihil, but the RDC task force had taken horrifying losses, especially when they had expected to be facing no more than a skirmish against an undisciplined bunch of raiders. The remains of two Pacifier- class cruisers and all their crews floated out there, too, along with far too many Longbeams, Skywings, and Vectors. And of course, their pilots.

If there was any consolation—and it was small solace indeed—it was that Kronara was absolutely certain, without any doubt, that the Nihil was a threat that needed to come to an end. Now…it had.

Whatever the Nihil were doing here, whatever this group had been…it was over.

Lourna Dee looked at the Jedi’s lightsaber. It was pretty, sort of, but it made her nervous to even hold the blasted thing. It was magic, they said.

I’m holding a magic sword, she thought. What the hell is going on?

“Give it to me,” Marchion Ro said, holding out his hand.

She handed it over, happy to be rid of it. Marchion gave it his own look, then began to tap it against his mask, the eye right in the center.

Tap.

Tap.

“You sure you want to do that?” Lourna said. “I mean, if it turns on…”

“It won’t.”

Tap.

They were in a cargo hold on the Gaze Electric, where Lourna had brought the last Blythe as well as their captured Jedi. She hadn’t caught either of their names. They were both still passed out from the gas, which made sense. She hadn’t wanted to take any chances with Jedi magic, and had dosed them again on the journey back from Elphrona.

“They work like this,” Marchion said, holding out the hilt.

He twitched his finger and the blade hissed into life, throwing the hold into golden relief.

He swung it a few times, like an experiment, seeing how it felt, listening to the humming, buzzing sound it made.

“I’m going to keep this,” he said.

Lourna Dee took an involuntary step backward, hating herself a little for it. But Marchion Ro was no Jedi. She wasn’t sure what he was these days, actually. He’d always had an edge, but he knew his place. He was the Eye, and nothing more.

Now…all that was gone. He seemed…confident, in some new and deeply unsettling way. Like he had changed, grown, become something greater than he previously was.

Or, as she was beginning to suspect, this was always what he’d been, and he’d just decided to hide it from her and the other Tempest Runners. But they’d all known it, hadn’t they? Down on some instinctive level.

Marchion Ro was a predator.

He spun, swinging the lightsaber faster now, big, deadly sweeps. Lourna stepped back again. She didn’t care if he thought she was a coward. If it slipped out of his hand, that thing could cut her in half with no trouble at all.

“Kassav’s Tempest encountered a trap set by the Republic, Lourna Dee,” Marchion Ro said. “A huge battle fleet. It was tragic. They all died. What do you think about that?”