“Got ’em,” she answered, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “But we ran into trouble. Jedi, chasing us. Ship’s damaged. We won’t be able to make it to the transfer point before they get us. We need a new Path, right now. We’re still in atmosphere, so it’ll be a tricky one.”

“Jedi, huh?” Zoovler said, no longer so happy. “Path at such a low altitude…that’s gonna run into trouble with the planet’s gravity well. That’s a big ask, Ultident.”

Dent frowned. She’d told Zoovler her real name once, in a moment of booze-filled closeness at one of the rallies. Now he was using it, just like a weapon. Blasted little nothing man, thought he was so special, so superior because he was a Storm. He was just an Ugnaught. If she made it out of this she’d poison his drink next time, and laugh at him as his ugly little face turned black.

“Send me your coordinates. I’ll have to run it up the line,” the Storm said. “Don’t call again. Either you’ll hear from me with a new Path…or you won’t.”

The connection went dead.

Think, she thought.

It would take time for Zoovler to talk to the other Storms, then they’d have to decide whether to talk to Lourna Dee, and she’d make the call on whether to ask the Eye for another Path or just cut her loose. She was just a Cloud…the odds weren’t good. But she knew the Blythes were valuable, and if this whole thing could somehow be pulled out of the fire, everyone stood to gain—including Zoovler, including Lourna Dee, even including Marchion Ro.

That was the system. That’s why the Nihil worked. Everyone did things their way, lived how they wanted, took what they wanted…and everyone got a piece, so it was in everyone’s interest to keep the system going.

But if the Jedi caught them before all of that thinking and requesting happened, no one would get a damn thing. Especially Ultident Margrona.

“Mack,” she said.

“Yeah,” he answered, still firing at the Jedi chasing them, his shots hitting nothing but air.

“Take one of the kids,” she said. “The little girl. Throw her out the air lock.”

“Uh…” Mack said, doubt in his voice.

“What, now you got qualms?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t care, except that we already lost the adult human female. Now we lose another one, we’re cutting our return in half.”

You idiot, she wanted to scream. Who cares about money, when if we don’t get away there’s no profits, no credits, no life. We’ll be dead, you dumb Strike!

“The Jedi will try to save the kid,” she said, forcing a patient tone into her voice. “That’s what they do. Might give us a chance to get away.”