And yet, when the shuttle touched down, it wasn’t Avar Kriss who gracefully stepped through the hatch but a short figure wearing a bulbous helmet above his mission robes. Elzar had only met Starlight’s archivist at the dedication ceremony, but the Ugor had made a distinct impression: mainly the ability to bore the wings off a Drethi. Elzar had only made it through their conversation by imagining what OrbaLin looked like beneath his containment suit. Few people had seen Ugors in their natural form, which Elzar believed resembled a cytoplasmic blob, their suits manipulated by wriggling pseudopodia that also facilitated the creature’s senses. OrbaLin was the only Ugor to be accepted into the Order, a fact that the archivist had mentioned at least seven times during their brief encounter.

“Master Mann?” the Ugor said as Elzar stopped in front of the ramp, the archivist’s thick accent crackling past his helmet’s speaker. “What a pleasant surprise. Have you come to help with the artifacts?”

“Artifacts?” Elzar looked expectantly up the ramp but there was still no sign of Avar, only packing droids pushing a long line of hovercarts loaded high with crates.

“For the Starlight Pavilion?”

“No, well, of course I will, but … where is the marshal?”

“Marshal Kriss? Why, she is on Starlight.”

Elzar frowned. “She’s cutting it a bit fine, isn’t she? The opening ceremony is tomorrow.”

OrbaLin shook his helmet. “She isn’t coming.”

“I’m sorry?”

“She cannot. The Drengir threat. I have come in her place.”

Elzar’s mood darkened, and for the first time in months he felt the shadows of his vision return. Avar wasn’t coming. He had been so looking forward to spending time with her again, to hearing her voice, her laugh, without the hiss of a holoprojector. No wonder Stellan had told him not to wait. He’d known she wasn’t on the shuttle, the sanctimonious puffbag.

“Well?” OrbaLin said. “We have plenty to transport to the pavilion if we’re going to set up in time.”

Elzar didn’t try to hide his sigh. “Fine. Show me what needs doing?”

OrbaLin produced a datapad, excitedly scrolling through an itinerary while Elzar stewed. This was just typical. However keenly he felt his disappointment, Avar’s absence also highlighted how far apart they had drifted. He glanced up at the sky, spotting a single star among the blue. She was out there right now, keeping the frontier safe while he was here on Valo, shifting ancient trinkets from the back of a transport. Tomorrow she could be leading Jedi into battle for all he knew, while he would be gawped at by diplomats and tourists.

Like a hragscythe in a cage.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Republic Avenue, Valo