“We’re okay, Indeera,” he said. “Just a few surprises the Nihil left for us. Mole mines. Seems to be over now. But we lost the Vanguard.”

“If they left mines, it means they thought they might be followed,” Indeera said. “Means they got away.”

“I think so, too,” Porter said, walking up, his lightsaber back in its holster. “My guess is they have a ship parked somewhere in one of the transit zones. The magnetic fields are rough around here, so they couldn’t just land by the house and take the family. They had to land, then speeder in. Then the family killed their speeder, so they stole the steelees and set out to ride back to their ship.”

“How are we supposed to catch them now?” Bell asked, pushing himself up off the ground. “The V-Wheel’s done.”

“Still got three steelees left,” Porter said. “I can saddle them up, and I can use the Force to convince them to work with us, to give us everything they’ve got to save their people. If we hurry, we can catch these monsters before they take the family offworld.”

“Do it,” Loden said, then lifted his comlink again.

“Indeera, we’re going after the Nihil—there are beasts here we can ride. You head back to the outpost and get a Vector. We might need it to follow them off the planet.”

“Got it,” Indeera said. “May the Force be with you.”

Loden replaced his comlink in his belt and walked toward the burning remains of their Vanguard. The vehicle’s two halves were now separated by several meters, shards of debris scattered amid the open space between them. He stopped near what was once the driver’s compartment.

“What are you doing?” Bell asked.

“The internal systems on the Vanguard are hardened against attack. In theory, you can blast a thousand holes in one and the wheels will keep turning. Now, this poor V-Wheel isn’t going anywhere ever again, but maybe it can still make itself useful…”

He lifted his hand, and a long metal panel on the front of the wrecked Vanguard began to vibrate, lifting away slightly from the rest of the machine.

“Help me, Padawan,” he said. “This thing’s on tight.”

Bell lifted his own hand, and the blackened metal panel tore free, flying backward and skittering across the ground. Loden bent and peered into the Vanguard’s inner workings.

“Mm,” he said. “Looks intact.”

He gestured with his hand, closing it into a fist, and Bell heard the sound of metal bending and snapping from inside the engine compartment—little spangs as of thin clasps being stressed beyond endurance.