“Then tell us,” Pan bellowed, throwing his hands wide. “Explain why the Storm needs an Eye. Why we shouldn’t take everything from you?” This time Pan didn’t give him time to respond, turning to the horde of Nihil who were looking more interested by the minute. “Because we could, couldn’t we, my friends? We could take the Gaze, we could take your old woman with the Paths in her head, and then what would we have? Certainly not someone telling us that we have to cower in the back of beyond. We should be out there! Writing our names across the stars! Are you with me?” A few of the crowd shouted back, mostly from Pan’s and Zeetar’s Tempest, but enough of Lourna’s warband to be a concern. “Are you with me?”

Ro needed to act.

“And what then?”

Pan tensed at Ro’s voice, raised just enough to echo around the former exercise yard.

“Where exactly are you going to strike first?”

Pan turned back to him, a sneer stretched across that ugly, smug face. “Anywhere we want, Eye.”

The title was an insult, not a tribute.

What are you going to do now? wheezed a voice in the back of Ro’s head, a voice that needed to be silenced along with the others.

Now I win, Ro thought back. Maybe you’ve forgotten how it is done.

Marchion Ro took a step forward, addressing not the Tempest Runner but the Nihil in all their number. “Pan is right. Of course he is. You could strike, like he ordered over Cyclor. Where Starbreaker and every member of his Cloud died at the Jedi’s hands.”

The Dowutin’s sneer turned into a scowl, but Ro didn’t give him a chance to respond.

“You could also kill me now.” He threw his arms wide, pushing out his chest, providing them with a target. “It would be easy enough. And you could take the Gaze Electric, squeezing every last Path from the Oracle, the woman who has been loyal to my family for centuries.”

There was no going back now. The Nihil knew of Mari San Tekka’s existence, but he’d be damned if they knew her true name or what she could do.

Because then you would have nothing, said the voice, but Ro knew that was a lie. He had all he needed.

“The Oracle has served me well,” he continued. “She has served the Nihil, through me and my vision.”

“Vision?” Pan scoffed. “What vision is that?”