OrbaLin heard Rhil scream over the whir of his blade, not that he had much time to react. By Surik’s Blade, the Twi’lek woman was impressive. Try as he might, he couldn’t force her back, her quarterstaff still in one piece despite numerous strikes from his lightsaber. That in itself wasn’t surprising. The staff dated back to the Blood Moon Uprising and was forged of phrik, one of the few substances that wasn’t susceptible to a lightsaber’s blade. Had she known what she was grabbing? Maybe, maybe not, but it was hardly important right now. OrbaLin had been trying to buy Ms. Dairo time, but her cry—and the fact that the recovered Lamproid was missing—meant extreme action had to be taken quickly.

The need for urgency only intensified as Dee got lucky, the end of the phrik staff catching his lightsaber hilt and sending it spinning from his hand. He’d barely had time to react before she delivered a blow that cracked his visor. OrbaLin tumbled onto his back, and Dee struck, slamming the staff down into what she assumed was his brain with a cry of victory.

If she had been fighting any other Jedi the fight would have been over, but Ugors were quite literally a different breed. The mass of jelly that usually resembled a face tightened around the end of the staff and held tight. She could wreck his helmet, but there was no way she was having one of his artifacts.

Calling on the Force, OrbaLin pushed with all his might.

The Twi’lek shot into the air like a rocket and didn’t stop when she met the ceiling, smashing through the pavilion’s roof to be thrown high into the poisoned air. OrbaLin never heard her land, but felt the crunch of her bones on the avenue outside. He would meditate on that later, but for now he had a life to save.

Yanking the staff from his helmet, the archivist jumped to his feet and raced toward the storeroom.

The Lamproid lifted Rhil from the floor, hissing through its cracked mask. She struggled but couldn’t free herself, not from its grip or from the now taut cables that were threatening to rip her implant from her face.

Her vision blurred with pain, but she saw a whirl of fabric and heard a dull thud as a containment boot met the side of the Nihil’s helmet, smashing its already weakened structure. The Lamproid grunted, dropping Rhil into a heap, and whirled around to face OrbaLin, who had landed from his flying kick and dropped into a defensive stance, the staff the Twi’lek had been using ready for battle.

The Lamproid lunged forward, knocking OrbaLin onto his back. Even if she couldn’t help him, Rhil knew she had to get the signal through. She hauled herself up the relay unit, checked the connections, and locked onto the Nihil signal.