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His magnetic boots clomped on the metal plating of the gigantic cylindrical power core. Tapered at one end like a spindle with a diamond-hard point, the core pressed against another contact point that rose from the south pole of the Death Star. Between the two points starfire crackled as the charge built up.

The skeleton of girders and access tubes, walled-off compartments, temporary quarters, and storerooms, formed a giant cage around them. Linked catwalks spanned open spaces like a tangled net. Though the prototype was the size of a small moon, it held very little gravity. Lando had to work hard to keep his balance, letting his magnetic boots determine the direction “down.”

“We have to go closer to the energy pods,” Mara said, her voice buzzing through the tiny earphone.

Lando looked for a way to respond and finally figured out how to activate his own helmet microphone. “Whatever you say. The sooner I get rid of these detonators, the happier I’ll be.” He sighed partly to himself but also for Mara’s benefit. “You’d think destroying one Death Star in a man’s lifetime would be enough.”

“I prefer men who never settle for enough,” Mara answered.

Lando blinked, not sure how to take her comment. He allowed himself a broad grin.

Holding out his gloved hand to steady Mara, Lando worked his way down the immense cylindrical core. He tilted his visor to shield himself from the glare pouring from the discharge at the contact points. Above them the pronged disk of the Falcon clung to a thick girder.

“Should be good enough here,” Mara said, reaching out. “Give me the first detonator.”

Lando rummaged in the shielded container and withdrew one of the thick disks. Mara cradled it in her padded glove and bent down to fasten it to the metal hull.

“We’ll work our way around and place them on the perimeter,” she said, pushing her thumb down on the synchronization button. The detonator lit up with seven lights blinking slowly, like a heartbeat, waiting for final activation.

“When they’re all emplaced,” Mara’s voice said, “we’ll give ourselves twenty standard minutes. That should be ample time to get back to the Falcon and get away.”

Without waiting for him to agree, Mara worked her way around the curving reactor core and turned to take a second detonator from him, planting it squarely against the plating.

Lando felt the faint vibrations of the core throbbing against his magnetic boots. The stored power seemed to be restless, building, waiting to be unleashed.

It seemed to take forever to traverse the circumference of the vast power core, planting the seven detonators. When they returned to their starting point, Mara leaned closer so Lando could see her face through the curved faceplate.

“Ready, Calrissian?”

“Sure thing,” Lando answered.

She punched the activator button on the first device. All around the perimeter the detonators winked blue as they began their countdown.

“Back to the Falcon. Hurry,” Mara said. Lando clomped after her.

A movement caught his eye from the side of the bucket-sized helmet, and he turned his head just in time to see the blocky armored suit of an Imperial spacetrooper. The enemy looked like a man-shaped AT-AT walker with reinforced joints on elbows and knees, heavy boots—and vibroblades like claws in his gloves. One slash and the spacetrooper could rip open Lando’s suit, killing him with explosive decompression.

The spacetrooper emerged from an access hatch in the framework above. He let the low gravity cushion his fall as his bulk dropped onto the power core. His heavy boots clanged on the metal as he landed next to Lando and Mara.

“Where did he come from?” Lando said, ducking as the spacetrooper lunged with the vibroblades in his gloves. Lando bent backward like a mucus tree in a gale. His magnetic boots held his feet in place, but he threw himself in the opposite direction. Vibroblades slashed past his chest.

Mara reacted more swiftly, swinging the empty padded container that had held the detonators, putting all her momentum