But there was no sign of the Tholothian as they climbed back into the sky. In fact, the air was remarkably clear, not only of the noxious gas but of the Nihil forces as a whole. Was the attack over? Had the tide finally turned?

Elzar glanced up and realized that the answer to both questions was a definite no …

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Fair park, Valo

What was Pan thinking? They were still on the ground!

The force of the first explosion knocked Lourna Dee from her feet, aggravating the injuries she had endured when that damn Jedi had thrown her through the roof. Her shoulder had been dislocated and, although she had rammed it back into place, was still raging with pain, as were the ribs that were obviously broken. The fact she could still run was a minor miracle, as was the fact that her skull was still in one piece. The last thing she needed was to be vaporized by one of her own bloody bombs.

Lourna pushed herself up, crying out as bones grated together.

The plan had been clear since the beginning. The raid would end with a carpet bombing, the charges dropped from the edge of Valo’s atmosphere, one final indignity—but only when her Tempest was clear!

“Pan? Pan!” she screamed into her comlink as she forced herself on. “Can you hear me?”

The comm came apart in her hands, damaged beyond repair in her fall. Lourna threw it aside in disgust, spotting three of her own Tempest running for cover as the bombs continued to fall.

“You three! Wait!”

The Nihil brought their weapons up, surprised by her shout, the largest of the trio—a maskless Alzarian with scales the color of pus—unleashing his flamethrower in her direction. Lourna leapt over the stream of ignited conflagrine, the pain in her shoulder almost worth it for the satisfaction of loosening the reptilian’s jaw with the heel of her boot. If the other two Nihil didn’t recognize her without her mask, they sure as hell recognized the brutality of the kick. The Alzarian thudded to the ground, blood gushing from his ruined mouth. Lourna reached down and snatched two of the syringes that were strung through the idiot’s bandolier. The first she punched into her own arm, the second she slammed into the Alzarian’s broad back. He may have provoked her wrath, but she still needed the horned brute on his feet, even with a jaw that was hanging loose.

“You have a ship nearby?” she barked at the two Nihil who could still talk—a bear of a human wielding a large plasmaul and a female Weequay who glared at Lourna with venom. “Well?”