Light of the Jedi(99)

All around her, Vectors materialized, flashing out from the Ataraxia.

“On me, Jedi,” Jora Malli said, and the ships came up around her, creating the tight formation that only the Jedi ships could achieve.

It was a Drift, perfectly composed, and the only thing more beautiful than seeing one was being part of one.

The battle lay ahead, and they would turn the tide.



* * *





The Eriaduan ships had advanced slow and steady, and were now in visual range, which meant they were in weapons range as well, but they hadn’t started firing. Kassav thought he knew why. The hunters wanted to terrify their prey before they killed it.

A battle was one thing, but this waiting. It was agonizing.

The ships were all long, thin, bladelike craft. They looked like swords, edge-on, and they were headed straight for him.

“Divert a third of our ships to the Eriaduan cruisers,” he ordered, shouting at Wet Bub. “We need them gone.”

“You got it, boss,” Bub said.

He sounded dubious. Not surprising. Kassav was dubious, too. They had killed their fair share of Longbeams and Skywings, but the Jedi had finally joined the fight, sending out those blasted little Vectors. Still, whatever. Jedi could die, just like anyone. No one ever said they were immortal.

But the Nihil were running out of tricks to play, and the Republic was getting smarter, letting the big guns on their cruisers do more of the work. It was time to go. What Kassav really needed was a Path, but the odds of that were—

“Kassav!” it was Wet Bub, a new note in his voice—hope. “I’ve got Marchion Ro on the comm!”

“Put him through!” Kassav yelled. “Private channel!”



Marchion Ro’s voice sounded in Kassav’s mask.

“Hey, Kassav,” he said. “You ran into some trouble out there?”

I think you know we did, Kassav thought.

“Yeah,” he said. “Republic task force, a bunch of Jedi, even some ships from Eriadu. Like some sort of ambush. I know you want to get rid of that flight recorder, but we could really use a Path to get us out of here. We’re getting hit pretty bad, Marchion. My whole Tempest is at risk.”

“It was just supposed to be a few transports,” Marchion Ro replied. “I don’t know what happened. I’ll get you a Path. Just keep fighting. I’ll say something to your Tempest, too. As the Eye.”

“Okay, great, but how long do you think it’ll be until you can send a Path, because—”

The link went dead. Kassav wished he could race back along the transmission line, not to escape, but for the sole purpose of finding Marchion Ro and murdering him in the most savage manner he could dream up.

Wet Bub spoke again.

“Another transmission from the Eye,” he said. “Every ship’s getting it.”

“Put it through,” Kassav said.

The wreckpunk, still blaring through the bridge speakers, automatically reduced in volume as Marchion Ro’s voice echoed out across the New Elite and all the other ships in the Nihil fleet.

“I am the Eye of the Nihil, and I see the battle you’re fighting. I see the Republic, trying to take away your freedom, trying to take your hard-won credits, trying to take away your way of life…they want you dead. Just for living. Just for being. Just for walking a path they don’t own.

“Who are they to tell us how to live? Who are they to come to our territory and try to kill us? The Republic. The Jedi. What gives them the right?”

Kassav looked across the bridge. Dellex, Gravhan, Wet Bub, and all the rest—all had stopped what they were doing and were very still, just listening to Marchion Ro’s words.



He suddenly had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling.

“I will not allow this to happen,” Marchion Ro said. “I have a responsibility to the Nihil, and the freedom we all believe in so deeply. I am the Eye, and I will give you what you need to defeat our enemies. These are the Battle Paths, my friends, and with them…”

A pause, a held breath, and Kassav knew every single one of his people was ready, waiting, desperate to hear what Marchion would say next.

“…you cannot lose.”

The New Elite thrummed, all its surfaces vibrating with a strange new energy, down to its very core. Dellex shouted, looking at her screens.

“Kassav…the Path engine…something’s happening!”



* * *





Sskeer flew as part of the Drift, the connection to the Jedi all around him strengthened by whatever Avar Kriss was doing back on the Ataraxia. And the strongest connection of all was to Jora Malli, her ship just off to starboard, so close that their wingtips almost touched.

The Vectors had not yet engaged the enemy. The Nihil were still ahead, embroiled in battles with Longbeams and Skywings. He sensed anticipation, all around him, Jedi preparing themselves for the test of combat.

His own cockpit was bathed in green light, the color of his lightsaber blade. Everything was ready. He would defend, he would protect, he would bring justice. He was a Jedi, and he—

Something happened.

The Nihil ships…moved. Shifted. All of them, at once, were in one place, and then they were in another. They didn’t move as one, but in separate jolts and lunges, disappearing and reappearing in varying distances from their original positions.