Ro reached for his helmet, slipping it over his face. He needed to be the Eye. He needed to be strong, not like his father, or Loden Greatstorm, or Kisma bloody Uttersond.

The comm buzzed in his ear. “What is it?” he snapped, a little too forcibly.

A frosty voice came over the line. Lourna Dee. “A ship is approaching.”

“So?”

“It is Republic.”

They had been found? How? And why was the woman bothering him with it when the course of action should be clear.

“Then make sure they never land, Lourna. Shoot the damn ship down.”

Lourna Dee let the channel go dead. This was not going as she’d planned. Reviving Pan had been a risk, but one she had enjoyed, especially seeing the meathead’s face when he thought she was going to follow him to Cyclor. Getting most of his Tempest to stay on Grizal—that had been easy enough. After all, he’d left them to face the Togrutas on Valo. But now, now she’d wanted to comm into the Elegencia, to gloat, to hear Pan choking on his own blood, if Ro’s toxin hadn’t stopped his diseased heart. The cypanid hadn’t cured him, it had only prolonged his agony.

As for Ro … Lourna hadn’t decided what to do about Ro yet … she’d prepared the lies for when he found that Pan had survived, that he had taken the Elegencia to raid Cyclor … and that he was now stardust. Depending on how he took the news, Lourna had planned on using it as leverage, or to proceed with her plan of taking the Gaze and the Oracle. She didn’t need a Dowutin to do that, and if Ro tried to stop her, then she’d rip that hidden syringe from his wrist and take out his eyes one at a time.

The only thing she hadn’t prepared for was Grizal being discovered. This was a wrinkle she could do without.

Lourna switched channels on the comm, hailing the Nihil that had alerted her to the incoming craft. “Target the enemy. Bring it down.”

“Tempest Runner,” the gunner posted at the laser tower responded. “They are signaling. It is Amarant.”

Amarant. Another surprise, and one more to her liking. The Lamproid had been one of her most trusted Clouds. She was not what anyone would call a sentimental woman—not if they wanted to keep their skull connected to their spinal column—but leaving Amarant behind had been a particularly bitter pill to swallow. She had plans for the venomous slug, but had thought him dead. And now here he was, returning to base. He would make Storm for this. Unless …

She grabbed a disruptor rifle, barking into the comm as she made for the door. “Let him land, but scan the ship.”

“For what?”

Wasn’t that obvious? Was everyone trying to annoy her today? “For tracking devices, you idiot. Get it done, now.”

“Up!”