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Chen leaped out of his seat. He dug his claws under the ventilation duct cover. To Tinian, the Nashtah Pup suddenly felt claustrophobic, with too little air inside.

“Thanks, Flirt.” She breathed slowly and deliberately. “Can you still get Bossk?”

“He’s working inside the locker. He found the leak. I can’t … quite … get Hound to cooperate. He’s very strong-willed. I’d like him if he weren’t in our way,” she added brightly.

At least Bossk wasn’t on the bridge, watching.

What could Tinian do with a flame carpet warhead? She’d never dreamed she would have this responsibility. She must launch and destroy it so that no one would ever use it. It was irreversibly set on heat seeker status.

Maybe Bossk meant to gas them, then put the Pup on autopilot and flame the Wookiee compound?

She didn’t have time to guess. She must decide what to do. She could send Bossk and his Hound’s Tooth straight to the Trandoshans’ Scorekeeper. Lacking air to co-fuel its onboard flammables, that torpedo would impact the Hound like a huge, heavy projectile.

No. The Pup had no hyperdrive. Destroying the Hound would strand her and Chen in Imperial space.

She knew she wasn’t thinking clearly. The answer ought to be obvious.

The Pup’s approach vector carried them out of the planet’s shadow. Lomabu’s sun rose above the world’s blue crescent.

The sun! She knew it was obvious.

“Brace yourself, Chen,” Tinian exclaimed. She rotated the Pup 120 degrees, aimed the torpedo launcher’s snout directly at Lomabu’s sun, and fired. The Pup lurched. Chen hit his head on an overhead and howled.

Tinian held her breath and tracked the warhead. After a quick three-count, its onboard rockets kicked on. It streaked sunward. Several hundred degrees of heat wouldn’t harm anything there.

Grandfather I’att would have smiled.

Evidently Bossk hadn’t seen her launch the warhead, because nothing happened immediately. Tinian nosed the Pup groundward. “Chen, how’s it going in there?” They still had far too much altitude to eject. If Bossk gassed them, they were trapped.

Chen stood with one long, hairy arm jammed up the ventilation duct. He turned his head, pushed his arm harder, and groaned.

Tinian bit her lip. If Bossk got back to the bridge, he would know she’d fired the warhead. He would know she’d betrayed him, and warheads weren’t easy to procure. “Flirt? Are you getting close?”

“Maybe,” chirped the little droid. “He’s still working.”

“Keep Bossk off the bridge, or it’s our lives.”

“I’m trying!” Flirt insisted. “If you’d leave me alone—”

“Will do,” Tinian answered. As Chenlambec twisted a piece of metal off one console and shoved it up the ventilation duct, Tinian steered toward colonial space.

This time they approached from the east, over water. Scanning a shimmery blue horizon, Tinian spotted the four looming guard towers.

The Imperials would be on intruder watch this time. As if to confirm Tinian’s thought, a blast of turbolaser fire flashed from one tower. It barely missed the Pup.

Tinian hated being shot at. Gulping, she swept both hands over its board. “Chen, where are our shields?”

He howled.

“None?” she cried.

A grizzled Wookiee spotted the tower guards firing. Whispers inside the compound had told him to watch for an attack. He sprinted toward the southeast guard tower. All around him, Wookiee slaves dropped their loads and attacked their overseers.

A human arm flew. Approval thundered from a hundred Wookiee throats.

The prisoners drove their guards into the tower. The Empire may have found the Wookiees of Kashyyyk defenseless, but it had taught them to fight back.

A louder roar swept in from over the sea. Imperial lasers tracked it for several blasts. Then the gunners swiveled their turbolasers inward. A long metal snout pointed into the compound.

At this range, the gunners didn’t miss. Soil, sand, and duracrete—and a dozen prisoners—vaporized in a fiery flash. The shock wave knocked the ancient Wookiee to his knees.

He scrambled around the raw new crater toward the guard