Ep V: Chapter 32

The detonator rolls toward where Scora and the guests shelter behind the bar. The air is thick with blaster fire.

Enthea pushes with the ****, but it’s too late as Myra scrambles toward Scora, reaching for her hand. The detonator goes off, taking the floor and plenty of railing with it. Myra falls with a shriek, catching the twisted rail. Scora dives to grab her only to be intercepted by Enthea. The last thing Enthea needs is for the person she’s supposed to protect to end up on the surface in the Stormlands. Enthea knocks Scora to the deck and reaches out with the **** as Myra loses her grip.

“Enthea!” Scora warns as a speeder bike shrieks toward them, blasting away. Enthea needs her hand to maintain focus to keep Myra from falling. That only leaves one free. She brings up her lightsaber to block, but the heavy blaster bolts from the bike are too powerful. Her lightsaber spins away and she’s knocked off her feet and over the side, into the storm.

Enthea catches the screaming Myra and shields her as they plummet to the ground. Enthea takes the impact, rolling over immediately and pushing Myra free as a crackle of energy from the storm slams to the ground between them. Mist, dust, and fog swirls around them like walls. They can’t see more than a few meters, and already the sounds of the engines are gone. The bikes, the pirates, the hunting party—it’s all getting farther away by the second.

Enthea dives and rolls as another lightning strike obliterates the rock she’d been standing on. She grabs Myra’s hand and pulls her to her feet, yanking her forward and marshaling her senses. There’s something ahead that they can use for shelter. The dust stings their skin, and there’s only so much Enthea can do with the **** to keep it from slicing them apart.

A hulking shape appears in the gloom and Enthea plunges toward it, the hapless Myra stumbling along behind her.

Then they’re under cover and out of the wind. Myra falls to her knees, gasping. Enthea takes out her tiny light and turns it on, panning it around as they move deeper inside. It’s not a cave, as she’d hoped. It’s metal. This is the wreck of a ship, although Enthea’s not in a state of mind to be choosy.

“My stars. What is this?” Myra asks, getting shakily to her feet. Her dress is torn and her hair is messy, but it’s clear that she’s all right. Enthea wishes that she could say the same for herself. The impact when she lost her lightsaber and the fall were bad. Nothing’s broken, but something’s wrong with her shoulder. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed in a moment in a modern medical bay, but it’s unlikely that there’s one of those around.