The Weequay pointed at a junker on the other side of the debris-strewn park. It was ugly, but it would do until Lourna got back to her own cruiser. For now, though, Lourna wasn’t looking at the ship. She was looking at what was in front of it. Who was in front of it, in all her finery. Suddenly the indignity Lourna had suffered at the hands of the idiot Jedi in the containment suit seemed worth it. Even the bombs seemed easier to forgive. Here was her prize.

Lourna held out her hand for the plasmaul, not expecting to have to ask. To his credit, the human handed over his weapon without question, flexing his knuckles in anticipation of the fight ahead. Lourna tested the maul’s weight, activating the energy field that covered the hammer’s blunt heel.

Yes, that would do nicely.

Her course set, Lourna Dee broke into a run, four simple words reverberating around her head:

Death to the chancellor.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

The Unity Arc

The bombs had been a surprise that even the Force hadn’t warned them about.

“Regasa, we must get you away from here,” Maramis told his queen, who was helping Madam Conserra carry a wounded Forshul from the wrecked building, its long gray hair matted with blood. The Supreme Huntress didn’t look much better, once-glittering robes soiled with gore from the victims, her regal face streaked with dirt.

“We must help,” she said as the ground shook from another explosion.

“No, the captain’s right.” Chancellor Soh joined them, similarly disarrayed, the hem of her long dress ripped and torn where she had used the material for bandages. “What you have done is beyond our expectations, Regasa, but my duty now must be to get you to safety. Don’t you agree, Council Member?”

Maramis looked at Stellan expectantly as the chancellor addressed him. Of course he concurred. The bombing was proof that the danger was far from over. Would these devils never stop?

As if to answer his question, long-range lasers lanced down from above, carving deep fissures into the ground. They swept toward the wrecked building, vaporizing anyone in their path.

“Back into the walker!” Stellan shouted.

Elarec Yovet looked around in despair. “But the wounded …”

“Take who you can,” Stellan told her, drawing his lightsaber. “I’ll protect those who are too injured to move.”

“As will I,” Maramis said, his kiavene already in his hand.

Stellan shook his head. “No, Captain. I need you to protect the regasa and Chancellor Soh. Will you do that for me?”

Maramis held out an open hand. “You have my word, Lord Jedi.”

The two men grasped each other’s wrists. “Then I know they will be safe.”

The sound of running boots broke the moment. Stellan turned to see a small band of Nihil charging at them, led by a Twi’lek with death in her eyes and a plasmaul burning in her hands.