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Vestara’s brow shot up. “I will need their help to get inside.”

Ben could see by the way Vhool’s eyes narrowed that the last thing he wanted was the two Jedi within earshot of a comm station—which only made sense, if what Ben suspected was true: that help was on its way.

“It’s not that hard, Vestara,” Ben said. He reached out to the Shadow, using the Force to release the lock hidden inside the boarding hatch. “Just palm the control pad. It’ll open.”

Vhool studied Ben for a moment, then said, “Your cooperation has just saved your life, Jedi.”

Ben shrugged. “Hey, we’re still on the same side in this thing,” he said. “Aren’t we?”

“Of course.” Vhool’s tone was cool, but Ben could tell that his act had bought them a little time. The Sith turned back to Vestara. “Prepare the craft for departure. We will be leaving as soon as I return with your father and High Lord Taalon.”

Vestara could not keep her eyes from widening, but her tone remained cool. “As you command, Master Vhool.” She glanced back at Ben. “Is there anything I should know about cold-firing procedures?”

“Just one thing.” Ben grinned. “You wouldn’t want to leave without us.”

Vestara suppressed a smile that Ben couldn’t read, then nodded curtly at Vhool. “That will depend on the wishes of High Lord Taalon, of course.”

She hurried ahead to the Shadow and palmed the control pad. As the hatch opened, Vhool turned back to Luke. “You and your son will await High Lord Taalon’s pleasure here.”

He sent three of his escorts to round up the rest of the Sith on the island, then ordered the others to wait with Ben and Luke.

“Treat them as allies as long as they behave like allies,” he said. “But if they do anything suspicious—”

“Why would we do that?” Luke interrupted. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Vhool could not prevent his eyes from drifting skyward as he spoke. “We Sith are merely cautious by nature.”

The Keshiri turned toward the gathering hall, and a moment later the Shadow’s repulsorlift engines whined to life. Ben half expected to see the star yacht rising off its struts as Vestara made her escape alone.

Instead a hatch cover beneath the nose slid open. Several of the Sith guarding Luke and Ben turned toward the sound, then scowled in confusion when a retractable blaster cannon dropped from the opening.

“Whoops—she did it again.” Ben rolled his eyes and tried to sound casual. “Wrong button.”

This seemed to reassure the Sith—until a flash brightened the sky. Ben glanced up to find a silver globe of radiance almost directly overhead—then a second and a third globe appeared, all contracting with the distinctive reverse flare of a detonating proton torpedo. A flurry of secondary explosions followed, filling a section of sky with roiling blossoms of fire. Smoke trails and flashing bolts of color began to spiral down through the atmosphere, pieces of disintegrating starships and starfighters bringing their dogfights dirtside.

The SteathXs had arrived—and not a moment too soon.

Ben glanced over at his father, looking for the cue that said it was time to grab for his lightsaber. But Luke Skywalker’s eyes were fixed on the skies, looking worried and sad and weary. Ben thought for a moment that the battle was going poorly for the Jedi, that the Grand Master was sensing the pain and fear of his dying Jedi Knights.

Then another series of flashes erupted, a little off to their right, and Ben realized his father wasn’t looking toward the battle at all. He was concentrating on their quarry, no doubt trying to get a fix on Abeloth and Ship—and some idea of where they would be headed. Two StealthXs appeared in the sky, swooping downward in pursuit of half a dozen outdated Javelins. Cannon bolts began to stream from the StealthXs, and the first two Javelins were plummeting seaward when an alarmed voice cried out from the gathering hall.

“Stop Vestara Khai!” Vhool’s boots began to pound across the circle toward the Shadow. “She killed—”

Ben did not