Malgus leapt high into the air, shouting with rage, his blade held high for a killing stroke. She rolled aside as he came down and his blade sank to its hilt in the rubble of the Temple. She leapt to her feet and unleashed a backhand crosscut at his throat. He got his blade free and vertical to parry it, but at the same time she pointed the blade end of Master Zallow’s lightsaber at Malgus and activated it.

He must have sensed his danger at the last moment for he slid partially aside. Still, the green line of Master Zallow’s blade pierced his armor and side and elicited a snarl of pain and rage. Before Aryn could follow up, Malgus drove an open hand into the side of her face.

She was unready for the blow. The Force-augmented impact exploded a spark shower in her brain and sent her cartwheeling away from Malgus; she slammed into a rock and landed on her side ten meters away. Adrenaline pulled her to her feet, though she swayed unsteadily. She spat a mouthful of blood and held both lightsabers at the ready.

Malgus stood astride the ruins, his blade sizzling, eyeing the smoking hole in his armor, the furrow in his flesh.

Seeing an opportunity, she did not hesitate.

Using the Force to guide it, she hurled Master Zallow’s lightsaber at Malgus. The blade cut a glittering green arc through the air as it spun end over end toward Malgus’s head.

Despite his wound, the Sith slapped aside Aryn’s Force-hold on the blade and snatched it out of the air, as quick as a sand viper. He deactivated the blade, held the hilt in his hand, studied it. He looked up and over at Aryn, his eyes burning. She imagined him smiling under his respirator.

“This weapon did not avail him and it will not avail you.”

The sound of an engine pulled Aryn’s head around. She whirled, her blade ready, and saw the Armin speeder roaring out of the sky like a comet, Zeerid in the driver’s seat. T7 sat in the rear. He came in too hard and the thrusters could not completely stop the speeder from slamming into the ruins. Metal creaked. Dust flew up.

“Aryn!” Zeerid called. “Get in!”

Zeerid looked past her to Malgus, seemed to consider unloading a blaster shot, but thought better of it.

“Come on, Aryn!” Zeerid shouted, and T7 backed him up with an urgent whistle. “Please. You said you would help me.”

She hesitated.

Malgus looked at her, brandished Master Zallow’s hilt, a taunt to keep her there.

She made her decision.

She wanted to efface the smugness she’d heard in his tone, to see in his eyes what she had seen in Master Zallow’s. Killing him was not enough. She wanted to see him in pain. She just had to figure out how to do it.