“Don’t,” Lourna’s voice rang out. The Twi’lek was standing, hand resting atop her disruptor, which, thankfully, was still in the holster. Was she threatening him, or Pan? Ro couldn’t be sure. But there was no way Lourna could miss, not at this range, not with her aim. If she sided with Pan, Ro would be dead long before he could draw the Jedi’s weapon. Don’t react, he told himself. Don’t yell. Just stare her down. Stare into the barrel of the gun. Let no one see your fear.

“What are you doing?” Ro asked, focusing back on the Dowutin, keeping his voice steady.

“What we should have done a long time ago,” Pan told him.

“Interesting.” Ro turned to Zeetar. “And you are with them? The Tempests united.”

“I stand with the Storm,” the Talpini replied, the battle hammer held tight in the powersuit’s hands.

“I am the Storm,” Ro reminded him.

“You used to be,” Pan sneered. “Things are going to change, Ro. Things have to change.” He stomped forward, kicking Ro’s broken mask aside. “You have done much for us, that I grant you. You have brought us together, given us the Paths.”

“My Paths,” Ro reminded him.

Pan stared him down. “Are you sure about that?”

Ro felt his blood turn to coolant in his veins. He didn’t ask Pan what he meant. He didn’t have to, because the Dowutin hadn’t finished, not by a long shot.

“We know, Ro. We know about the old woman hidden on your ship. We know she gives you the Paths. And she’ll give them to us just as easy.”

“Not without my authority.”

That was a mistake. Ro knew it from Pan’s triumphant grin as soon as the words were out. He’d just confirmed Mari San Tekka’s existence in front of everyone.

Pan waited, not saying a word. Ro should have finished him off when he had the chance.

“And what are you going to do? Kill me? Storm the Gaze?”

The Dowutin made a show of considering this. “It’s a thought, or you could step aside. We know your secret now, and the secret of your father. I hear the woman isn’t long for this world, and what then, Ro? What would you offer?” His eyes flicked to the crate. “Whatever’s in your little box?”

“You have no idea what I can offer.”