CHAPTER 51

“We can spread out and strike the Imperials,” Luke said to the Jedi trainees gathered in front of the Great Temple.

The mechanized assault troops crashed forward through the jungle, firing at imagined targets. Artoo-Detoo trundled toward the open door of the Great Temple, vanishing into the shelter of the hangar bay’s heavy shadows.

“They’ll be here in a moment,” Luke said. “If we Jedi can spread out in the jungle, we can hit them with surprise attacks.”

Tionne was concerned. “They’re much bigger than we are,” she said, “with a lot more firepower.”

“Yes,” Kirana Ti said with a stern expression, “but we can hide better than they can.”

“And,” Kam Solusar added, “we’re Jedi Knights. They’re just Imperials.”

Luke smiled at their confidence. “Callista,” he said, “maybe you should go with Han and Leia on the Falcon where you’ll be safer.”

She shook her head vigorously, the short malt blond hair waving in the humid air. “Not on your life. I’m staying here with you.”

He smiled gently at her. “All right, I’ll protect you with my Jedi powers. Just stay close.”

She scowled, suddenly reminded of her inability to use the Force, but her face flushed with a fiery determination. Callista had her lightsaber, and Luke switched on his own green-yellow energy blade. Kirana Ti held Gantoris’s old weapon with the harsh amethyst-white glow. Kyp drew his weapon. Some of the newer Jedi trainees took hold of the few blasters Kyp had retrieved from the stolen Imperial shuttle.

Luke held his lightsaber high. “Jedi Knights,” he called, “may the Force be with you!”

The trainees split up and disappeared into the jungle thickets.

As damp vines and tangled undergrowth wrapped around her, Kirana Ti stuck close to Streen. They made an odd pair, but the addled Bespin hermit was her good friend. Kirana Ti was strong and muscular, tall, a warrior even without the Force. Streen, on the other hand, was self-absorbed and distracted, wanting primarily to be left alone. Kirana Ti accepted him as he was. She knew he held great power within him when confidence let him tap into his full potential. Together, they formed a solid team.

Imperial siege machines crashed toward them, another troop of gawky scout walkers clomping through the underbrush. They blasted trees out of their way, knocked down heavy branches, and ripped up vines that tangled around their cumbersome, jointed legs.

“They’re not trying very hard to be quiet,” Kirana Ti said. “Bad tactics. Shows overconfidence.”

“What’s their plan?” Streen said, twisting from side to side. “What’s our plan? Does anyone have a plan? We should plan.”

She took cover in the shadow of a thicket and yanked him after her, squinting toward the approaching AT-STs. Sweat beaded on her brow, and she brushed it away. Kirana Ti gripped the smooth handle of her lightsaber. “The Imperials didn’t expect much resistance from a handful of trainees, so they’re not organized. It’s just a mad scramble with plenty of weapons and no plan.”

“No plan,” Streen agreed, nodding vigorously.

A pair of AT-ST walkers stomped into the clearing. Before she could stop him, Streen popped to his feet and chattered, “I’ll take care of these!” He rushed out to stand in plain sight of the two square-headed scout machines.

“Streen!” she yelled. Both walkers swiveled their boxy heads and trained weapons on the old hermit, but Streen raised his fists in the air and let out a loud yell as he swept his arms forward, using the Force to propel a battering ram of wind.

Kirana Ti was amazed at the speed with which he focused his mind on the Force, channeled his thoughts into exactly what he wanted to do, and then unleashed his powers. Or perhaps Streen didn’t concentrate at all … and therein lay his unusual strength.

The two scout transports toppled backward as if they had been slapped by a giant hand, tumbled end over end until they slammed into the bole of an ancient Massassi tree, flattened by the Force.

Streen rubbed his hands together. “There,” he said, then flashed a lopsided grin at Kirana Ti.

A third scout walker clomped out of the jungle, and Kirana Ti reacted swiftly this time, igniting her lightsaber and leaping toward the two-legged armored transport. She slashed sideways with the glowing purple-white blade and severed a mechanical leg at its knee. The scout walker toppled sideways and Kirana Ti jumped out of the way.

The pilot fired his laser cannons as the machine fell, but the bolts went wide, incinerating heavy branches from the trees. Hidden animals crouching in the underbrush burst into flight, squawking and shrieking as they scrambled through the forest debris.

Kirana Ti lopped open the armored hatch of the scout walker. The Imperial soldier inside scrambled to free himself from the crash netting, reaching for his blaster pistol—but Kirana Ti skewered him with the blazing lightsaber. He gave a short cry, and then a crackling hole in his chest prevented him from uttering another sound.

Kirana Ti climbed to the top of the smoldering hulk of the AT-ST like a warrior who had just vanquished a monster. Streen stood looking at the two vehicles he had crushed. Kirana Ti shouted to him. “Three down!” she said.

“Are there many more left?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Plenty,” she said.

Still wearing his perpetual frown, Kam Solusar met the Juggernaut alone. It was an ancient, cumbersome ground assault vehicle, obsolete throughout most of the Empire, though many old hulks could still be found in the Outer Rim Territories. Solusar remembered these massive “rolling slabs” that had been used to strike fear in Imperial opponents because of their mammoth size, though certainly not their efficiency or flexibility.

The Juggernaut was a huge tank bristling with three heavy-laser cannons, a pair of concussion-grenade launchers, and one medium-blaster cannon. Its five sets of wheels moved on independent axles, allowing it to roll through difficult terrain. The front and back ends each held a cockpit for pilots to drive the clumsy vehicle in either direction, since it was nearly impossible to turn the monstrosity around.

A lookout tower rose in a narrow unprotected stem above the front cockpit where the lowest-ranking storm-trooper had the unenviable assignment of spotting targets—while becoming the most obvious target himself. Because the Juggernaut was one of the least sophisticated heavy assault vehicles the Empire had designed, Kam Solusar assumed that its crew was not the best Admiral Daala’s fleet had to offer.

Alone, he had no obvious weapons: he had not yet built a new lightsaber, in part out of reluctance to wield such power again; he had done plenty of damage before he had temporarily given up his Jedi heritage. But he considered it a greater irony if he could convince the Imperials to destroy themselves using their own weapons. He couldn’t imagine a more delightful outcome.

Reaching out with the Force, the hard-bitten warrior sensed the crew of eight through the thick durasteel armor. He found no powerful or charismatic officer inside, just a group of weak-minded fools … exactly as he had expected.

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 Callista hung behind. He and Tionne would work together, linking Jedi powers in a way that she could no longer share.

Callista came to a dreaded realization that perhaps she had been unable to attempt new techniques to regain her powers because she was too close to Luke. He intimidated her with his own abilities, unconsciously emphasizing the fact that she had so little left. Perhaps she needed time by herself, to operate on her own terms, with no expectations, no need to perform for Luke Skywalker, to meet his level of ability. She and Luke were bonded, joined heart and spirit—but perhaps she needed to find her own strength again so that she could join his.

Now, in the midst of the jungle battles, she felt helpless and alone, tagging along like a burden rather than a companion. She didn’t need to prove anything to Luke—but she did need to prove it to herself.

“Here it comes,” Luke said, but his attention was focused on Tionne as the two Jedi Knights prepared to meet the Imperial battle machine. With their attention diverted, Callista formed her own plan.

The Imperial Flying Fortress approached them about four meters off the ground, hovering over an ancient deadfall where several giant Massassi trees had toppled in ancient storms.

Luke recognized the immense vehicle. Tactically, it was like a huge Imperial AT-AT walker but without the legs, merely the armored body loaded with heavy weaponry. It was rectangular with rounded corners and two heavy blaster cannons on a hemispherical turret on the top. A target identification network operated from sensors mounted around its outer hull. The machine hummed as it cruised forward, nosing its way through the thick branches, snapping them off when they refused to yield.

Its outer armor plates were already scarred from weapons fire, scraped from hard branches, and splotched with sticky smears of spilled sap. It cruised forward, heavy blaster cannons moving like rigid tentacles. Receiving signals from the target identification network, they fired deadly bursts upon any hapless forest creatures that happened to flee at the wrong time.

Luke concentrated on the armored monstrosity cruising toward them. He whispered to Tionne. “Together,” he said. “See that sharp tree stump? When the Fortress flies over …”

Tionne nodded, and they waited as the low hum of repulsor lifts drove the Flying Fortress over the ancient deadfall.

Luke focused his blue eyes on the sharpened trunk. “Now!” he cried. Luke and Tionne used the Force together, heaving the stump upward like a wooden stake through the lower hull of the Flying Fortress. The impaled siege vehicle spun about roaring with a burst of engine power. Its blaster cannons fired in all directions, setting trees aflame—but it couldn’t move.

“That tree.” Luke nodded toward another ancient trunk half-collapsed but held up by a net of vines. He and Tionne tugged on the dead tree with the Force, snapping the coiled vines and heaving the massive trunk down like an ax blade, many tons of solid wood slamming the Flying Fortress down into the deadfall, crushing it into an unrecognizable mass of smoldering armor plate.

Luke and Tionne leaped from their hiding place in triumph. They clasped each other’s hands in a celebratory grip.

“See, Callista!” Luke called. “We’ll take care of them, one by one!”

But when he turned to look behind him, he saw no sign of her. “Callista?” he called, glancing around in alarm.

Tionne also looked, but they saw no motion, received no answer in the thick jungle. Callista was completely masked from the Force, and therefore invisible even to their Jedi powers. Luke could not sense her, no matter how hard he tried.

“Callista!” he called again.

But she had vanished by herself into the thick jungle.