Below the drift, Chancellor Soh had managed to get the walker out of the fair park, trudging over what was left of the Unity Arc. The gates had been smashed, the spheres of the founders lying like broken Life Day decorations on the ground. The Alderaanian sphere smashed beneath the walker’s tread as the REW lumbered on. On its back, Stellan and Maramis stood with their faces to the sky, Stellan batting away strafing runs from passing marauders while the guard captain took shots at their engines with a kiavene almost drained of energy. All the time, Regasa Elarec kept the others huddled nearby, away from most if not all shrapnel. Stellan’s body ached and his mind reeled from the horror that had befallen the fair, but he kept going, for light and life and the frightened souls in his charge. This was why he had become a Jedi. This was his duty.

At the controls, Soh pulled up sharply as a Vector streaked from the sky and plowed into a nearby stone tower, sending debris rocketing out in all directions. The blazing craft hit the ground and skidded into a café where survivors were sheltering. The building came down, sending a plume of dust out into the already fogged air. Stellan shuddered as he felt a Jedi life enter the Force. Was that Mikkel Sutmani?

“We must help them,” the regasa shouted, peering over the edge of the walker.

Stellan would have agreed, but the decision was taken out of his hands.

“I’m taking us down,” Lina Soh shouted back from the cockpit.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Maramis asked, only to be silenced by his queen.

“Captain …”

“As you command, Supreme Huntress.”

At a flick of a switch, the REW’s legs folded down so its riders could disembark. Soh and Yovet led the charge, racing toward the survivors, Matari and Voru following close behind, with Stellan and Maramis bringing up the rear in case of ambush.

The building was a mess, the survivors even more so. Stellan did what he could to support the structure using the Force while the others pulled the injured clear. Even Madam Conserra forgot her airs and graces to finally get her hands dirty.

“Can anyone hear me?”

Stellan almost missed the tinny voice over the cries of the wounded and the Nihil’s aural assault. It was only when it sounded again that he realized what it was.

“Is anyone there?”

Stellan activated the comlink on his wrist. “Vernestra?”

Relief filled his former Padawan’s voice. “Master Gios? Is that you?”

“The same. What are you doing on Valo?”

“It’s a long story. It’s good to hear you.”

“And you, Vernestra. OrbaLin and Rhil must have gotten the comms up and running.”

“Not us,” the archivist said, joining the conversation. “Although we might have gotten a message offworld.”

“Might being the operative word in that sentence,” Rhil Dairo added, speaking over OrbaLin’s connection.