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They left the lantern-lit cavern and hustled up the stairs. At the top, Din paused. “What are you doing?” said Cara. “Listening.” “Without your helmet audio?” said Rex. “For the Darksaber.” Rex and Cara exchanged glances. After a minute, Din was able to pick up on the pulse again. There was something about it that jarred him, and it was powerful. A sudden image passed through his mind. He could see himself using the Darksaber to lay waste to hundreds of stormtroopers. And battle droids. With it, he would single handedly liberate Mandalore, and he would avenge the purge. All the clans would have to acknowledge that he was not dar’manda. He was one of them. “You got it yet?” said Cara. Din shook himself. What had he been doing? “It’s pretty close,” he said. “You two stay out of its way. And remember, anything you shoot at Gideon, he can send back.” Din reached up and pulled on the handholds on the slab of rubble that blocked the entrance. Rex and Cara helped. Once they’d

Sequel to The Foundling “You can come the easy way or the hard way.” Cara Dune slapped a puck on the table in front of a beefy Trandoshan. “I’m happy to do it the hard way.” Her target gazed up at her with barred lizard eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was under the influence of some kind of spice. The whole cantina reeked of it. “I didn’t do nothin’, Madam Enforcer.” His voice was a gravely hiss. “You’re wanted for embezzling guild funds. That’s something. And it’s just the top of the list. Now are you coming or am I dragging you back?” She fingered a tranquilizer dart. A good fight got the blood pumping, and Cara was ready. But it had been a long trip tracking this scum, and she wanted to be done with this job. The Trandoshan regarded her, flicking his tongue. It was near impossible to read his expression. Or maybe Cara just didn’t see the need to. “I like a girl with fight,” he rasped. “Oh, you won’t after this.” The muscles in his shoulder flexed. Before he could make a

Din pulled himself to his hands and knees, slowly realizing all the attention was on him and Gideon now. In heavy silence, the Mandalorian warriors stood tense like ready springs, wary of their enemies: the Saxon and Imperial troopers. Many from both sides lay dead or wounded. Ezra and Rex were helping Sabine up from where she’d been flung to the ground. She was holding her arm and acting a little dazed. Something suddenly hit Din in the head. No, it was something in his mind. He nearly collapsed again under the shock. It was the child, afraid, lost, confused. Din reached, as if throwing out his hand to catch him. Then the presence vanished. Din was left alone, like there was only air beneath him. Ad'ika . . . Child. There was nothing. Din couldn't find him, couldn't help him. One last time, he'd failed him. And now he was aware of others, the warriors, the ones who had looked to him for a leader. He could sense, pressing against him, disdain, pity, fear and . . . anger. For

Tola shook her head, clearing out the fogginess. But that didn’t get rid of the ache. That prisoner had turned out to be a real problem. Wait . . . She sat up, glancing around, blinking and dizzy. She couldn’t see him anywhere. Apparently he’d made a clean escape. Or the client had come and taken him without paying. Making a little growl of frustration, she pulled herself to her feet. Then she realized she was looking at a couple of bodies. One of them was still smoking, a deep slash through his leg. The prisoner. Tola yelped, jumping back and tripping into the ship ramp. She landed on her backside and sat there for a minute, covering her mouth and staring with round eyes. Contrary to the way she’d talked to Cara, she really hadn’t been in this line of work for very long. Most jobs she’d taken so far had involved kidnapping or spying, not bodies. This was so unexpected, and there had been a weird feeling about this whole operation, with Deeth being all cryptic, Rym so on edge, and

Sabine had gone during the night. Ahsoka couldn’t reach her. As a red sun rose over Coruscant, Ahsoka went through a morning exercise out on the deck. Here in the city, it brought back such strong memories of life at the temple. Part of her still missed it, or what it had been before the deepening shadow of the war had taken over. But even then, moments of light, of clarity had come. She moved through the sense of darkness brought on by the memories, reaching for light to bring in. But the dark cloud persisted. She turned and paused. Din had come out of his room, and stood behind the sliding door, watching her blankly from behind his visor. The cloud she was sensing hung over his head. She beckoned for him to join her. So he stepped outside. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said. “No, it’s fine,” said Ahsoka. “Have you tried these moves before?” She demonstrated a fluid, spinning sequence of motion. “Not this particular style.” “Want to try?” He watched her for a minute, and as

The Razor Crest hurtled through hyperspace, a cocoon amid the endless stream of blue lights. It was cold out there. And somehow, within the cockpit and a full suit of beskar armor, Din Djarin felt chilled. He sat at the helm, struggling to stay awake. It was long before they’d approach the exit. In the back seat, the child was snoring softly in a padded box Din had found for him. The tufts of hair on his little green head waved just slightly in the air from the ventilation system. The kid had slept almost the whole way, wrapped in a bantha wool blanket, clutching the mythosaur skull pendant in his tiny claws and getting slobber on it. Once in a while, his big green ears lifted slightly as he dreamed. Apparently, he'd used up all his adrenaline for the day, too. Din worried. One of these times the kid was going to really overdo it. But if he'd held back, he and Din and their companions would all be dead. Din could still smell the burning wreckage of the cantina and feel the heat

Gideon could sense the departure. It was something like a length of rubber stretching thin, but without the tension. The connection was weakening. It had also lost its potency when the hunter had the creature’s attention. Through the little pup, Gideon could get a sense of the man now. That impression had been there from when Gideon had first taken the infusion, but at the time, he hadn’t known or guessed what it was. Now it was clear. The Mandalorian had become an essential part of the creature’s consciousness. Its affection was tied to the hunter. And a lot of its fear. Not fear of him, but fear for him. Fear that he would be taken away. The man was a constant in its life now. He treated it as a child in need. There was warmth between them. Gideon found himself envying that. The last memory of his father was one of many vicious arguments. Gideon had made a mistake. It had cost his father a good deal. He’d threatened to disinherit him. To this day, Gideon had never known whether

A little boy sat alone in a corner of the shelter, where the whitish light was dim. He looked different from most of the other kids. It wasn’t that he was an alien or anything. He was new. He sat quietly with his knees pulled up against his chest and his hands clasped tightly around them. The hood of his little red coat was pulled down to hide most of his face. He didn’t feel like being noticed. A few grown-ups were sitting around the battered tables, casually supervising the children. The boy didn’t know any of them. Dirty crockery from a frugal meal had been piled up on the tables, waiting for when the fighting on the surface was over and everyone could get on with other things. The grown-ups were in full armor. They always were. The ones who waited down here with the kids wore plenty of bandages, splints, and slings too, marks of previous battles and skirmishes. Still, they could be intimidating, even if they had to limp over to break up a squabble that was getting out of