The Alzarian landed on his face, Voru’s full weight bearing down on him. Stellan turned to look for the woman, who had targon trouble of her own. The red fur darkened around his mouth, Matari jumped, but the Twi’lek was quicker, swinging her maul at the animal’s head. The hammer connected and Stellan felt rather than heard the targon go down. Voru abandoned the Alzarian to run to her brother’s aid, but the Twi’lek leapt, using the targon’s back to propel herself at Stellan. He crossed his sabers to protect himself, but his arms were like lead. The Twi’lek’s hammer struck the blades with the sound of a thundercrack, the force of the blow knocking both lightsabers down. Stellan toppled forward, overbalanced, and the Twi’lek brought the pole of her weapon up, catching him under the chin. Stellan tasted blood as he was flipped over by the impact, his lightsaber hilts clattering beside him as he hit the ground. If he had been capable of rational thought he would have expected to feel the maul cracking his skull like an egg, but instead he could only lie stunned. The world spun as he tried to push himself up, flashes of yellow and red streaking past him.

He looked up, trying to focus. Matari and Voru were racing after the woman, who was running full pelt toward the lumbering walker. She was going after the others, going for the regasa and the chancellor. All things being equal, Maramis would be able to take the woman, but what had been equal about today? Stellan pushed himself to his feet, not really sure what he expected to do before his legs gave out. He threw out an arm to break his fall, but it folded beneath him, unable to stop him thudding to his side.

It was down to Matari and Voru now, although the red targon was wavering, still suffering the effect of the plasmaul’s blow. It didn’t matter. Stellan smiled through bloodied teeth. The Twi’lek may have bested him, but she couldn’t outrun one, let alone two targons. And yet, as she neared the oh-so-slow walker, Stellan saw the woman pull a device from her belt. A weapon? No, a grappling hook that shot up toward the back of the REW. It found its target, locking into place, and the Nihil flew up into the air, the cable retracting. The targons leapt, but she was already out of range of their claws, speeding toward her victims, her plasmaul gripped tight.

“No!” Stellan cried out, as if his shout alone would be enough to bring her down. He crawled forward, desperate to save the people he’d pledged to protect, desperate to do anything.

Boots smacked down beside him, a fingerbreadth from his head. Was it the Alzarian, still jacked up on the stims, ready to finish him off?

“Stellan!”