Light of the Jedi(46)
“I have a new group in my Tempest,” Lourna continued. “Seven Strikes under a Cloud. Came to me with a really interesting plan, actually—they found this settler family on a mining world, very connected. My guys want to kidnap them, hold them for ransom from their rich relatives. It’s smart.”
“No, Lourna. I told you. We all just agreed. No raids until the heat dies down from Hetzal.”
She stepped toward him, her thin face focused, her eyes intense.
“I’m telling you, Marchion, it’ll be easy. The planet is Elphrona, which doesn’t have much of a security force, and apparently the family decided to go all rustic, live way out on their own in the middle of nowhere. Easy pickings. We’ll be in and out.”
Marchion went still, which Lourna took as an invitation to keep talking.
“The Cloud asked for some Paths. You know…just in case. I know we’re under pressure, but this is a new group, lots of potential. I want to bring them into the fold, give them a chance to prove their worth. I’m telling you, too—this operation will have a huge payoff.”
“Elphrona…” Marchion said. “There’s a Jedi outpost on that planet.”
“Is there?” asked Lourna Dee, in a way that made it clear she had already known.
Marchion went silent. The Nihil were not just another group of raiders, like the thousands that operated in the Rim. They were special, powerful…and the reason for that was the Paths. In all the ways that counted, they made the Nihil what they were. They allowed crews to use hyperspace in ways denied to every other ship in the galaxy. Microjumps, leaps to locations inside gravity wells, entering hyperspace from almost anywhere as opposed to having to run elaborate calculations or travel to a non-occluded access zone…they allowed the Nihil’s ships to appear and disappear at will, like spirits. They could be anywhere, at any time, and no defenses could stop them.
The Paths made the Nihil what they were, but they came from a single, unique, not inexhaustible source, and Marchion had placed significant demands upon that source recently, both to fuel the Nihil’s growth and to support plans of his own. The Legacy Run disaster was not the only reason he wanted things to cool off for a little while.
Lourna Dee’s idea, though…it had possibilities.
There was no need to hold a formal vote. Lourna Dee was obviously for it, and the Eye’s two votes would ensure it went ahead, if Marchion Ro agreed.
“Fine,” he said. “Send me the plan, what you think you’ll need, and I’ll get you some Paths. But do not do anything to get the attention of those Jedi. Get in, grab the family, get out.”
“Thank you,” Lourna Dee said, and left. As ever, the woman never said a word more than she needed to.
Kassav and Pan Eyta glanced at each other, then back at Marchion Ro.
Pan shrugged. He left, following Lourna Dee back to the celebration outside.
Kassav did not.
Marchion lifted his mask and replaced it on his head.
“Dunno how that was fair, Ro,” the Weequay said. “You giving Lourna Dee a job, giving her Paths, but saying Pan and me gotta stop. I got people to feed, too. I got like a thousand people in my Tempest, and ain’t one of ’em gonna be happy with this. How about I send you some ideas, maybe you choose one and I can get something going? You’d get a share, too—a full third to the Eye, just like always. Don’t you want that payday?”
They returned to the Great Hall, walking past the spiked guard droids, who once again inclined their heads as the Eye and the Tempest Runner passed.
Marchion walked to the edge of the platform, Kassav close on his heels, right up against the blue lights that marked the border of the vacuum shields.
“Your father never would have done something like this,” Kassav said. “Shutting down the Paths? Forget it. Not Asgar Ro. He wasn’t any kind of coward, no way.”
Marchion Ro went very still.
“My father’s dead, Kassav,” he said. “I’m the Eye now. You can do whatever you want with your Tempest, but the Paths come from me. You don’t like it? You want to make a play for me, try to take what I’ve got? Go for it. Just be aware…”
He gestured out at the void.
“…there’s a price.”
“What are you waiting for?” Loden said.
Bell crept closer to the edge of the cliff and peered over. The ground didn’t look any closer than it had the last four times he checked. He looked back at his master, who had his arms folded. He was smiling, but it was one of those smiles that felt much more like a deep, disapproving frown.
Get on with it, that smile said. Unless you’d prefer to be a Padawan for the rest of your life.
The Jedi Order had established outposts across the less-settled sectors of the Republic, both as an opportunity to explore new regions and to offer assistance to any who might need it in those wilder zones. Not as large as full temples, they were staffed by crews of three to seven Jedi, often with a wide range of experience. Getting “outposted” was a common part of the Padawan training regime, and this was what Bell was doing on Elphrona. He and Loden had been there for a while, though they did get the occasional offworld assignment like the Starlight Beacon tour that had ended up with them in the middle of the Legacy Run disaster. They were originally due to be rotated back to Coruscant after that via the Third Horizon—but Chancellor Soh’s hyperspace blockade had gotten them sent back to the outpost for the duration.