Indeera opened her throttle, shooting headfirst toward the dreadnaught, her laser cannons blazing hot. Force willing she would land a direct hit to the Nihil flight deck. The other options were that she would be dismantled by the scav droids or reduced to atoms by the cruiser’s battery. Either way, she’d always believed that one Jedi was all it took to make a difference. Now it was time to put her theory to the test.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

The Elegencia

“Jedi Vector, coming right at us,” Chell Trambin yelled as the Elegencia’s viewport lit up with laserfire.

“Then that’s how they’ll die,” Pan said, locking onto the fighter.

The Elegencia shook, not from the Vector’s attack or the exploding ordnance in its belly, but from above.

“What the hell was that?” Pan growled, grabbing hold of the console to stop himself being thrown to his own deck.

“Ships arriving out of hyperspace, Tempest Runner,” Chell reported shrilly, checking his scope. “Multiple signals. At least twenty so far.”

“No!” Pan cursed, forgetting about the Vector and switching to a tactical view of the space above them. A damn transmission must have got through, reinforcements finally arriving. But from where? The Republic? The Jedi? Who?

Indeera had never seen ships so graceful. They weren’t from the Order or any Republic world, their lines as refined as the shuttle that had made the journey from Shili the day before.

A transmission came from the lead cruiser, which was already barraging the Nihil dreadnaught. “Attention all fighters. This is Trido Tamaree of the Royal Togruta Fleet. Enemy craft must disengage or be destroyed. This is your first and final warning. We shall show no mercy.”

Indeera didn’t doubt it. Suddenly it was the Nihil who were outnumbered, more Togruta ships arriving with every passing second. An entire fleet.

Opening a channel, she issued a response, never taking her eyes off the Nihil’s flight deck as she raced forward. “Togruta fleet. This is Indeera Stokes of the Jedi Order. The Force welcomes you to Valo. Now blow those junkheaps from the sky.”

Pan scrabbled for his command lounger, damage reports streaming in from every ship that still functioned.

“Should we respond?” Chell asked as the deck continued to buck.

“Only enough to get us out of here,” Pan barked back, opening a channel to what was left of his Tempest. “All Nihil, the storm has passed. Take to the escape Paths, now.”

“Shall we cover the evacuation, sir?”

“What?”

“Protect the others while they leave?”

“What do you think we are? The Republic? Get us out of here!”

The Morseerian swiveled back to his console, punching in coordinates, as Pan sank back into his lounger. Reinforcements may have arrived to pull the Jedi from the fire, but they were too late. The strike—his strike—had been decisive. There would be no ignoring the Nihil now. There would be no ignoring him.