No Jedi would use the Force to accomplish something as easily done with their hand—but lives had been saved by the ability to unlock a Vanguard’s hatch from a distance, or fire its weapons, or even make it move. Bell didn’t think he could do it, and he wasn’t sure Loden could, either. Indeera…maybe. She was by far the most technologically minded of their crew. She usually drove whenever they took the machine out—today was no exception.

Indeera had chosen the most direct course to their destination, a straight shot through the landscape across a low-slung set of hills. A road did exist, running from the outpost to Ogden’s Hope and looping back out to the claim zones, but it was an indirect route. Using it would take time they did not seem to have, based on the emergency message they’d received. So the ride was bumpy, uneven…but it was fast, especially with Indeera at the controls.

The Vanguard crested the rise.

“Smoke,” Loden said.

Bell turned to look through the Vanguard’s windscreen and saw what his master was referring to—a wide column of dark smoke, far ahead and in their path, revealed now that they were over the hills.

“If that’s not the Blythe homestead, it’s right next door. Do you think…” Indeera said.

“I do,” Loden replied. “The Nihil, from what I’ve heard, are destroyers. They take what they want and wreck what’s left. They use gas attacks, too—that could be what we’re seeing.”

“Looks like a fire to me,” Indeera said. “Take the wheel, Loden. I’m going to run out a Veil, see if I can get a look at what we’re heading into.”

“And it gives us a chance at a multifront response if the Nihil are still there, or if they left any surprises,” Loden said.

Indeera nodded. She got up from her seat as Loden grasped the control wheel. The Vanguard slowed.

Indeera made her way back to the passenger compartment, moving past Porter Engle, who sat in silence, his single eye blank, staring at nothing.

Outwardly, the Ikkrukki was calm, but Bell sensed roiling energy in the man. Porter Engle, the kindly cook, inventor of ingenious dishes and dispenser of useful aphorisms, was being set aside. What was appearing in his place felt like a dormant volcano beginning to wake—simmering and ready, filled with unimaginable power. The ancient Jedi was summoning up a ghost: one of his former lives. A version of himself the Padawans told stories about. Someone the sort of people who attacked defenseless settler families should pray they never met.

“Are you all right, Porter?” Bell said.

“Yes,” the old Jedi answered without shifting his gaze.

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.