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Kam Solusar didn’t even bother showing himself. He remained hidden behind an ancient tree as he closed his eyes and concentrated. This would need to be quick.

He used the Force to wrench the barrels of the Juggernaut’s heavy laser cannons, punching the guns around to point down at the body of the vehicle itself. Welds shivered and metal strained as he ground the barrels into firing positions they had never been designed to use.

Then he sent out a spike of thought, an urgent message to the weakest mind he found, a simple Imperial gunner who had no idea where he was or why he was fighting.

Shoot the enemy! Kam Solusar commanded.

Reflexively, the gunner followed the order. He fired both heavy laser cannons at full power. The Imperial Juggernaut exploded under its own fire.

Kam Solusar ducked, but the trunk of the Massassi tree shielded him from the flying shrapnel. He shook his head in disgust. “Stupid idiots,” he thought, then slipped off to seek another target.

The horizontal hangar door beneath the Great Temple stood wide open, a gaping vulnerability into the pyramid stronghold of the Jedi academy.

A single AT-ST clanked forward past the abandoned Imperial shuttle Dorsk 81 had landed on the jungle moon. The scout walker fired several times, blackening parts of the temple rock. Then, unchallenged, it strode across the landing grid toward the open and waiting hangar.

The walker hesitated outside, then brilliant white spotlights stabbed into the cavernous darkness of the hangar bay. Nothing moved in the empty hangar, only shadows thick and motionless. A few lizard-rodents scurried to avoid the light.

The AT-ST commander, still apparently nervous, fired twice into the empty chamber. The bolts of his laser cannons ricocheted off the inner walls and flashed, causing minor damage spots on the stone. Receiving no retaliatory fire, the AT-ST lumbered forward. Its commander no doubt thought he could take over the Jedi stronghold and prevent any long siege.

As the scout walker stepped under the heavy upraised door, though, Artoo-Detoo, hiding in the shadows, chittered and came forward to activate the release controls. The heavy armored slab, thick enough to seal off the temple from heavy blaster fire, came crashing down.

Propelled by hydraulic pistons, the door squashed the scout walker in an instant, hammering it into the stone floor. Fuel tanks erupted, coolants spilled, and smoke poured into the air. The body casing of the AT-ST lay unrecognizable, like hammered-flat pieces of scrap metal.

Artoo whistled and hooted in triumph, then he worked the door controls again, raising up the stone slab and falling silent. The temple grew dark and sat waiting again, vulnerable.

Artoo watched the sunlit jungle outside, hoping to lure a new target.

As Kyp Durron ran to join Han Solo in the Millennium Falcon, Callista followed Luke and Tionne as they slipped behind the Great Temple into the thicker jungle where more Imperials were massing.

Callista felt anger and helplessness crippling her again. Luke had meant well, and had spoken only out of concern for her—but unconsciously he had flaunted the fact that he had Jedi powers and implied that she was helpless without them.

I’ll protect you, he had said.

That was the wrong thing to say to Callista. She didn’t want him to protect her. She wanted to do her own part. She had to find some way that she could strike as many blows to defend the Jedi academy as Luke did. She needed to prove that they could exist on equal terms. Otherwise their relationship had no future, as far as she was concerned.

She sensed the scratching hum of dark side shadows in the back of her mind, tempting her, luring her to dip into their evil powers for just a few moments, and then she would be able to use the light side.

But she knew that was a lie. Callista held her light-saber and sprinted beside Luke as they dove through a tangle of vines and lacy purple ferns.

A huge piece of heavy assault machinery plowed its way through the jungle toward the temple. Luke gestured for them to follow, but