In the meantime, they needed a main base, a citadel that could be both a sanctuary and a fortress if things went further south. Pan Eyta had suggested the Great Hall, built by Ro’s father in the heart of No-Space, but that was hardly practical. It was little more than a floating platform, the vacuum of space held back by a force field so it appeared that you were literally dining in the stars. It was impressive but barely defensible, a place to inspire awe but not to withstand the Jedi onslaught that was surely just a matter of time.

The prison complex had been located by Zeetar, the Talpini whom Ro had elevated after Kassav’s Tempest had crashed and burned so spectacularly at Kur, taking Kassav with them. Zeet had come from Lourna’s own Tempest and was a brilliant engineer responsible for many of the Nihil’s latest innovations, from improved Path drives to the scav droids that had made stripping ships so much easier. Yes, the place was a garbage heap, but it was secure, and that was all that Lourna cared about. Like the Great Hall, no one would be able to find the planetoid without the Paths.

Of course, there were drawbacks. Lourna had never seen so much rain, lashing the weather-beaten walls of the complex day and night. Pan Eyta hated it and spent as little time here as possible. That suited her, although she would have liked to be able to keep track of her counterpart, especially after she’d joined Zeetar in relocating her Tempest to the camp. Lourna didn’t trust Zeetar, but Lourna didn’t trust anyone so that was nothing unusual. However, she did enjoy Pan’s face when, on a rare visit to Grizal, the Dowutin lumbered into the work space she had converted to her quarters. He took one look at Zeetar and drew back his lips into a snarl.

“Is this a joke?”

“Do you see anything funny?” Zeetar snapped back.

Lourna did, although she would never let either of them know, remaining as impassive and steely-eyed as possible.

Pan swaggered up to Zeetar, intent on staring straight into the Talpini’s beady little eyes. Usually he would have loomed over Zeetar, but things had changed.

“I see a little runt with something to prove,” Pan growled. “A little runt getting ideas above his station.”

Lourna had smiled when she had seen what Zeetar had done prior to Pan’s arrival. The tiny Talpini had constructed a colossal powersuit complete with pneumatic legs that put him head and shoulders over anyone on Grizal. Zeet himself was perched in the protective cage that made up the mech’s broad chest, the imposing setup completed by flame rifles on the loadlifter’s droid arms and grenade launchers mounted above his head. Now, for the first time, Zeetar was leering down at Pan.