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“They’re probably arguing,” the Princess essayed in disgust. She eyed the entrance. “Pretty soon they’ll remember what they were sent for. Then they’ll come rushing back in, begging your forgiveness.”

“I’ll bawl them out then,” Luke sighed. “Right now I’m—” He glanced around for Halla, saw her moving at a trot toward the distant idol. “Halla!”

“Let her go,” the Princess advised him, with an indifferent wave of one hand. “She’s not running anywhere with it.” She started walking toward the far side of the temple. “She’ll need our help to get it down anyway.” When Luke didn’t follow, she wondered aloud, “Aren’t you coming, too?”

“In a minute,” he assured her, his attention behind instead of in front of him. “I want to make certain this thing is dead.”

As the Princess strolled without hurry toward the statue, he moved to stand next to the visible portion of the hulk-corpse. He prodded it with his saber, sinking the shaft of azure destruction into dark flesh up to the hilt. It didn’t stir.

Satisfied, he turned to rejoin his companions. There was a faint, warning rumble and his gaze jerked skyward.

So did those of the Princess and Halla. “Luke!” they shouted simultaneously.

He didn’t need urging. What he did need was a second or two. The edges of the new hole in the ceiling were widening slightly.

Fate gave him the first second, begrudged him the second.

“Luke!” The Princess was running toward him now as the rumbling stopped and the last small stone fell heavily. Halla stood frozen, torn between the pile of rubble beneath which Luke was buried and the tantalizing proximity of the crystal. Drunk with its nearness, she continued on toward the statue.

Leia reached the small hillock of fresh broken rock, looked around frantically.

“Over … here,” a voice murmured, slow and full of pain.

He lay nearby, pinned on his back. She shifted debris from him, ignoring the cloying dust and the scratches the sharp fragments made on her hands and arms. But she couldn’t budge the massive block which had struck the temple floor and then tumbled to rest on his right thigh and calf.

“Try again,” he instructed her. They strained together. Leia put her back beneath one edge of the stone, thrust upward with what little weight she had. The block did not move.

They rested, breathing hard. Luke’s face was a mixture of fading pain and hope. “It’s not pressing on me with its full weight,” he told her. “If it was I wouldn’t have a leg to pull free now.” His gaze turned toward the silent entrance. “Dammit, where are those two? They could move this thing easily.”

“I am afraid your slow-witted companions will no longer be able to help you or anyone else, Skywalker.”

Luke went cold all over. A tall, blood-chilling shape stood on top of the rubble in the entranceway. Clad completely in black armor, it stared down at them expectantly.

“They’re both dead,” it informed them pleasantly, in a voice devoid of any spark of humanity. “I killed them. As for your ’droids, they are conditioned to obey orders. I had them turn themselves off.”

Slowly Leia’s mouth moved, forming a name. But no sound issued from between those perfect lips.

Moving leisurely down the pile of rubble, Darth Vader addressed them in a coldly conversational tone.

“You know, Skywalker, I had a difficult time finding out that it was you who shot up my TIE fighter above the Death Star station. Rebellion spies are hard and expensive to come by. I also found out it was you who released the torpedo that destroyed the station. You have a great deal to atone for to me. I’ve waited a long time.”

Casually he drew his own lightsaber, began swinging the activated energy blade loosely back and forth, chopping playfully at bits of stone and carving.

“You were lucky that time in the snubship,” he went on, as Luke fought to pull his pinioned leg free. He dug at the stone floor until blood ran from beneath his nails. “I probably won’t have the patience to let you last as long as you deserve. You may consider yourself lucky.” His voice dropped to a toxic whisper. “I expect no such