“Now do you understand?” he shouted at the guards as refugees streamed into the compound, headed for the starship.

The guard captain watched the refugees for a long moment, then looked up at Loden. He dropped his rifle, as did the rest of the guards.

Loden lowered his lightsaber. He looked at Bell.

He smiled.

Then a moment of uncertainty, for both master and apprentice.

“Do you sense that?” Bell said. “From Master Kriss, on the Third Horizon.”

“Yes,” Loden replied. “Something is wrong.”

Chapter Fourteen

Avar Kriss stood before the projection wall on the bridge of the Third Horizon, still displaying the Hetzal system. The crisis had evolved from a stage of reaction to one of management. No new fragments had appeared from hyperspace in some time, and many of the existing projectiles had been dealt with in one way or another.

She was still listening to the song of the Force, and she knew additional Jedi were beginning to arrive in the system, to use their skills to help.

As she watched the screen, she saw Jora Malli and Sskeer execute a complex maneuver alongside two Republic Longbeams, destroying a fragment moments before it could impact a transport carrying several thousand evacuees.

“That’s done,” Jora said over the bridge comm, entirely matter-of-fact.

“Thank you, Master Malli,” Admiral Kronara said, standing to Avar’s left. “I…wasn’t sure you’d get there in time.”

“Thank the Force, Admiral,” Jora said, “and your teams. It was a joint effort. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see what else Sskeer and I can do out here.”

Something is wrong, Avar thought. She knew this was true, down to her bones, but she couldn’t figure out what felt so off.

“Call coming in from Coruscant, Admiral,” called one of the bridge officers. “It’s Chancellor Soh, asking for a status update.”

“Put her through, Lieutenant. I think she’ll be happy with the good news.”

Kronara turned to her, smiling. He wasn’t celebrating, exactly—people had died in this system, and they still didn’t know what had caused the disaster in the first place—but he clearly felt like he had done his job well, on little notice and with no planning. Skill and training and inspired improvisation had saved the day here: the perfect outcome for a military man.

“I should know better than to say this,” Admiral Kronara said, “but I believe the worst might be over.”

You should know better than to say that, Avar thought. The Force was still singing in her mind, and right in the middle of it, still, a huge, blank spot. A silence. Something she was missing.

The admiral stepped to a comm station to take the call from the chancellor. Avar did not take her eyes off the screen.

What am I missing? she asked herself. What?