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Her injury wasn’t serious; Iktotchi horns contained no vital organs or major arteries. Even if completely severed the wound would not be life threatening, though it would be agonizingly painful. In time the missing chunk would even grow back, leaving no evidence of how close she had come to dying in the hangar.

But she had nearly died. She realized her opponent was cunning; he had wanted her to see him, knowing she’d double around to try to cut him off.

She had underestimated him and he had manipulated her, goading her into a careless mistake. He had set a trap and she had walked right into it. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Set crouched down behind one of the ships, gasping for breath. To some extent he had been able to resist the Iktotchi’s strange ability. He was able to fight through her ability to draw on the Force, but the effort had left him exhausted.

And it still messed you up enough so that she was able to dodge your lightsaber.

The Dark Jedi frowned at the memory of how close he had come to ending this battle, even as he forced himself to get up and get moving again. He couldn’t stay in one place for more than a few seconds, not unless he wanted to end up dead. He knew she’d be more careful now; he’d missed his best chance.

The Iktotchi was too quick for him to beat in a straight-up fight … not with her disrupting his connection to the Force and slowing him down. So far he’d managed to avoid a direct confrontation, but he couldn’t keep running for much longer. He had a stitch in his side, and his lungs felt like they were going to burst. Unless something happened to change the situation, the outcome was inevitable.

As if in answer to his prayers, there was a sudden change in the sound of the alarms. It took Set only a moment to figure out what had happened, and a new escape plan began to form in his mind.

The Huntress heard the change in the sound of the alarms, and she knew that they had maybe five minutes before the detonations began, and maybe ten before the entire complex was reduced to rubble.

Her opponent noticed the change as well.

“Hear that?” he called out from somewhere on the other side of the hangar. “This whole place is going to come crashing down around our ears. Why don’t we each just hop on one of these shuttles and get out of here before that happens?”

“I still have enough time to find you,” she shouted back, slowly heading in the direction of his voice. It sounded like he was near one of the shuttles on the far side of the room. “You’re getting tired. Wearing down. You won’t last much longer.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” he answered as she stepped from behind one of the ships, giving her a clear view of the man she had been chasing.

He was leaning casually against the side of one of the shuttles, near the thrusters at the rear. He glanced toward her but made no attempt to hide. Instead he just stood there, holding his lightsaber casually at his side.

Wary of walking into another trap, the Huntress began a cautious approach. As she took her first step, the silver-haired man pulled his arm back and brought his lightsaber down hard against the shuttle’s hull. There was a shower of sparks, and the blade bit a full centimeter into the ship’s reinforced exterior plating.

The man pulled his arm back and struck again, hitting precisely the same spot, the glowing blade carving even deeper this time. It was only on the third blow that the Huntress realized what he was doing.

The third chop brought the lightsaber deep enough to sever one of the shuttle’s fuel lines. Her opponent flung himself backward and she threw herself to the floor as a stray spark ignited the flammable liquid. Hundreds of tiny metal shards that had once been a fuel cell were sent hurtling through the air. The shuttle bucked once, its tail leaping a full meter off the ground from the force of the blast. A thick cloud of greasy black smoke curled up from the gash the lightsaber had left in the hull.

“Amazing weapons, aren’t they?” the man noted as she picked herself up from the ground. “Cut