Starbreaker was pleased to note that there was no fear in the Strike’s squeaky voice, only excitement. He felt it, too. He rubbed his hand across the scar on his cheek. A Jedi had given him that on Mandrine, their accursed lightsaber burning through the thick layer of mucus that usually protected Gloovans from extreme heat. It had only been a nick, but it had been enough to brand him for life. Pan Eyta had told him he was lucky that the Jedi hadn’t taken his head, but Starbreaker didn’t feel lucky. The scar was a constant reminder how his raid on Kiapene trading post had been unsuccessful. He had lost a lot of Strikes that day and barely escaped with his Cloudship in one piece. This was a chance to even the score.

Thumbing a cam control on the arm of his chair, he zoomed in on the image of the Vectors on the scope. At least two potential kills. Starbreaker had lost eight Nihil on Mandrine, but even he would have to admit that the majority of them were incompetent rabble. If anything, the Jedi had done him a favor. He had taken more care choosing his new recruits, and two Jedi skulls were worth more than the slugswabs he’d lost. Those three lightning bolts were as good as his.

“How many scav droids do we have?” he growled.

“A full complement,” the Fluggrian replied.

Five dozen. Excellent. Enough to pick the Innovator clean once the raiding parties were on board, and more than enough to slice through two Jedi Vectors.

“Launch ’em,” he barked.

“How many?”

“All of ’em. Every single one.”

Long ago, Loden Greatstorm had led his newly minted Padawan toward the Elphrona Outpost’s main training gallery.

“Today we will practice with training remotes,” he had said, and Bell’s heart had sunk. He had only been Loden’s apprentice for two days and had spent most of that time meditating at his Master’s request, preparing his mind to learn. Finally he was ready—and for what? Training remotes? He’d been using remotes ever since he had first constructed his lightsaber on board the Crucible, Professor Huyang peering over his shoulder. Bell had thought being a Padawan would bring new challenges, not just repeat the same old lessons.

His frustration had only grown when he felt Loden’s amusement over his Padawan’s obvious disappointment. Was Loden laughing at him? Well, he’d show the Twi’lek exactly what he was made of. He’d slice that damn training remote in half. No, better than that. He’d crush it like an egg with the Force. The thought had made him smirk, imagining his new Master’s face, the components of the remote tinkling to the floor as he released his grip on the Force.

Then they’d come around the corner, stepping through the ornate ashstone arch that led to the gallery.