Light of the Jedi(60)



Bell decided to leave it alone. He wasn’t afraid of Porter—they were both Jedi, after all. But…he wasn’t sure how he felt about meeting a ghost.

Indeera slipped past them to the rear of the vehicle, where its two Veil speeders were stored on racks, one above the other. Like all the Valkeri Enterprises gear built for the Order, they were designed for Force-users, and as such were delicate, highly responsive machines. Little more than a seat strapped to a hollow duralium frame, with a single repulsor and four winglike attachments that sprang out from its sides, a Veil was basically a flying stick. But if you knew how to ride them, they were incredibly fast and maneuverable. A group of skilled riders, with lightsabers out and ready, could take down entire platoons of armored vehicles while sending blasterfire back at their attackers.



Veils were also incredibly fun, and Bell took one out to ride through the hills and valleys around the Elphrona Outpost whenever Loden gave him a rare hour off.

Indeera lifted one of the Veils off its rack, then kicked out at the switch that opened the Vanguard’s rear hatch. It flipped up, metal-scented air roaring into the compartment.

“Be careful,” she said to Bell, and then Indeera leapt out, the Veil’s wings flipping open as she did. He saw her catch the wind and flit away, gone in a blink.

Bell pulled the hatch closed. He got up and moved toward the front of the Vanguard, passing Porter, who said nothing. He sat in the driver’s seat recently vacated by Indeera. Ember lay between them, and Loden reached down to pat the creature’s head without taking his eyes from what lay ahead.

Through the windshield, the source of the smoke column was revealed as a burning, two-story home, the centerpiece of what had once been a small, neat homestead—what looked like a mining operation.

Loden slowed the Vanguard to a stop a few hundred meters from the fire. He looked at Bell. “Do you sense any survivors?”

Bell reached out with the Force. Nothing. Cold emptiness. “No,” he said.

“Neither do I,” his master said. “But we need to check anyway. See if we’re missing someone—or if there are clues to what happened. We will find justice here, one way or the other.”

Loden opened the door on his side of the driver’s cabin and stepped to the ground. Bell followed suit, Ember slipping down after him. Porter appeared a moment later, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his holstered lightsaber.



Bell realized he’d never seen the old man draw it. Not once.

Loden lifted a comlink and spoke. “We’ve arrived at the Blythes’ claim, Indeera. Looks like the Nihil burned the place. We’re going to look around. Do you see anything?”

“Nothing,” Indeera’s voice replied. “I’m on a rise about half a kilometer away. I can be there quickly if anything happens. I’ll let you know if I see anyone coming.”

“Good,” Loden said, and slipped the comlink back onto his belt.

“Let’s go, but slowly.”

He took a few steps ahead, toward the burning house. They passed a corral, where several terrified steelees rushed and stamped, their eyes huge, nostrils flaring. Porter lifted a hand.

“Easy, friends,” he said, and the beasts calmed immediately, sinking to their haunches, huddling together in their pen.

“Wrecked speeder,” Loden said, pointing at a smoldering pile of wreckage not far from the house. “Bodies, too. And a bunch of mining droids—taken out by blasterfire. My guess is the family tried to use the droids to defend themselves. Didn’t work, or not well enough.”

Porter called out from over at the steelee corral, where he was squatting, peering closely at a patch of disturbed ground by its gate.

“The Nihil took some of the family’s steelees when they lost their speeder. I can see the whole story right here in the dirt. Six people, four captives.”

He stood, and his face seemed cold enough to extinguish the fire.

“Two of them are kids.”

Bell looked more closely at the house—there was something on the door. It looked odd, like writing, or…

He stepped closer. The door to the Blythes’ home had been marked by three jagged lines zigzagging from top to bottom. The edges were ragged, savage, as if carved by a vibroblade running low on charge.

“There’s something here,” he said, and took another step.

The lines looked like…lightning. Three jagged lightning strikes. The heat from the fire was intense, but the symbol was fascinating, in some primal way. He moved closer, needing to see it as clearly as he could.



Ember barked, a sound of sharp, unmistakable alarm.

Bell stopped and turned to look at the charhound.

“What is it, girl?” he said, and then he noticed why Ember was trying to warn him—four trails of raised dirt, moving toward him at incredible speed.

Mole mines, Bell had time to think, and then he did two things.

First, he pushed Ember with the Force. He tried to be gentle, but the point was to shove her back out of harm’s way. Whatever damage he did to her, it couldn’t be as bad as getting caught in an explosion. Then Bell leapt, straight up, unholstering his lightsaber as he did.

The mole mines were designed to race toward their target just below the surface of the ground, and then shoot up into the air, exploding at roughly a meter high, sending out a ring of horizontal shrapnel along with a crown of intense heat and flame. They were deadly, and cruel—most people never even had a chance to recognize they were being attacked before they were killed.

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