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Their own airspeeder exploded, throwing durasteel and plastoid and flame in all directions. The shock wave from the blast hammered Vestara’s ears but not her body—the outcropping, a durable blast shield, caught all debris headed their way.

The three of them rose. Tola’s speeder was gone. So was their own airspeeder, but not the same way—it existed now as a crater of burning junk and a column of smoke that, as it reached the top of the ravine, was caught by a crosswind and torn to shreds.

Ben sighed. “You know her, huh?”

“She works for my father.” Vestara collected her lightsaber, which she’d dropped when Luke hit her.

“Dad, she was doing what you did with me at the temple on Dorin. A Master hanging back to watch her students fight an enemy so she’d learn about them.”

Luke nodded. “Though she seemed perfectly content to sacrifice them.”

Vestara replaced her lightsaber on its clip. “You’re a big prize, Master Skywalker. Well worth the sacrifice of a few Sabers and apprentices.”

Ben frowned. “I wonder how they traced us here.”

Luke grinned at his son. “It doesn’t matter how they did. I’m just grateful that they did.”

Ben looked his father over. “You weren’t hit by debris to the head, were you, Dad?”

Luke shook his head. “Trust me on this, Ben. Sometimes it’s actually a good thing to run into your enemies.” He glanced around. “People from Kesla Vein are going to be here in a few minutes to investigate the blast. We’d better be gone when they arrive. Let’s get going.”

HAPES SYSTEM

“SIR. FLOTILLA BREAKING ORBIT, THREE BATTLE DRAGONS AND AN ESCORT of frigates and destroyers.” That was the voice of Dei’s pilot and second in command, Hara, drifting aft out of the cockpit.

Querdan Dei did not bother to poke his head into the cramped cockpit. The area in which he stood—a small compartment, one and a half by two meters in height, that provided access between cockpit forward, main work compartment aft, air lock port, and refresher starboard—was the only spot on this damnable spacecraft that was bare of apparatus, the only spot where he could practice his forms, and he wasn’t quite through with those exercises yet.

He straightened and placed his forearms against the compartment ceiling. Outside, he would have stretched, making himself a straight line from toes to fingertips, but there was no way to do that here. He swayed through a somewhat constricted version of the Snake Ascending a Waterfall exercise.

Hara, a lavender-skinned Keshiri woman, middle-aged and taciturn, had not one trace of Force sensitivity or imagination, but she was reliable, intelligent, and diligent. Dei kept his voice calm, though he knew Hara would not have alerted him if the flotilla was not potentially of great interest. “Enlighten me.”

“They’re accelerating away from the planet at atypical speed. We’re seeing transponder telemetry from only two Battle Dragons. The third is masquerading as a medical frigate, Jeweled Delight. Their formation suggests the Jeweled Delight is at the center of a protective pattern, at the sweet spot of overlapping weapons coverage.”

Dei sank smoothly from Snake Ascending a Waterfall into Mountain Storm. That exercise normally called for full splits, which were impossible here; instead, he kept his right knee cocked and fully extended only his left. Once he was down, he began the series of intricate arm movements that constituted the storm, suggesting winds around a mountain range. “All sensors and countermeasures to full power. Fall in behind that formation and pace it.”

“Sir?”

“Hara, the computer between my ears tells me that the odds are very high that we are looking at the Queen Mother departing Hapes. What does the computer embedded in this ghastly craft tell you?”

Another voice, male, floated out from the cockpit. “Still running those variables, sir.”

“Please execute my orders while running those variables.” With thigh strength alone, Dei slid back up to a standing position, then lowered himself for a second iteration of Mountain Storm, this time with his right leg