Ember barked again, this time looking up at the hole in the ceiling. Something was moving on the deck above them.

“Hello?” Senza called out, scrambling to her feet. “Is anyone up there? We need your help.”

Bell put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t.”

She looked at him as if he were mad. “Why not?”

“Because we don’t know who it is.”

“What does that matter? They might be able to help.”

They might, but there also was no way to tell if the newcomers making their way over the shrapnel of the upper deck were friend or foe. Those had been Nihil ships in the skies above the Innovator. Maybe the pirates were picking over the ship’s corpse before it sank to the bottom of the lake, back to claim what had been denied them above Cyclor.

The deck lurched, sending Senza crashing into Bell. Denis screamed, a sharp, shrill sound, the wreckage shifting dramatically. Bell reacted out of instinct, shooting out a hand to steady the debris through the Force. Now he was trapped. If he let his concentration slip, even for a moment, Denis would be crushed by the wreckage, and yet at the same time a pack of bloodthirsty Nihil could appear above their heads at any moment, and he was the only one who could hold them back.

Ember barked, reminding him once again that whatever happened, she had his back.

But first, he had to get the Pantoran out of the firing line.

“Senza?” he asked softly, reaching for his lightsaber with his free hand. “I need you to step toward the wall.”

The Pantoran’s eyes went wide as she realized Bell was going for his weapon. “Why? Are we in danger?”

Denis snorted a little bitter laugh. “I would say on a scale of one to ten, that’s a big, fat eleven.”

“It could be nothing,” Bell told him.

“But on the other hand it could be the people that sank the ship?”

“We’re not sunk yet.”

Bell wished he sounded more confident.

“Can’t you tell who it is?” Senza asked, waving her fingers beside her head to mime Jedi powers. “You know, with your … hooby-dooby.”

“My hooby-dooby?”

“Your magic.”

Bell sighed. “It’s not magic, and it doesn’t always work that way.” He didn’t tell the terrified woman that it probably would, if his senses weren’t being swamped by her understandable panic and the effort of keeping the debris from grinding Denis into the deck. Instead he turned his attention to his charhound, his eyes locked on the hole above their heads.

“Ember, you need to be ready, okay?”

The dog growled, ready to defend them all without hesitation, smoke curling up between her bared teeth.

“What is that?” Senza squeaked.

“Ever heard of fire-breathing dragons?”

“Only in fairy tales.”

“Well, Ember is very real, as is her flame. I’d advise you to keep your distance.”