Orla crept closer to the cave entrance. By then she and the others could hear movement, even muttering. They had clear passage into the very chamber where the hostages were being held. Master Laret, just ahead of Orla and Cohmac, held herself in battle stance, waiting for the right opportunity.

Tactical training clearly indicated that the ideal moment for action would come when sounds were farthest from the entrance, and that they should enter swiftly, immediately scan for the hostages and the kidnappers, protect the hostages first, and go after the kidnappers second. Their lightsabers would provide cover that allowed them to first defend, then attack.

Yet all Orla’s instincts were telling her, Find the kidnappers and take them out first.

But tactical training existed for a reason. She decided not to ignore it.

Heavy footsteps headed farther from the door. Master Laret shifted position subtly, but enough to tell the apprentices the moment was at hand. The order was silent but Orla heard it as surely as though her master had shouted:

Go.

All three of them burst through the cave entrance at once. Orla’s instincts were so strong they seemed almost to be steering her blade—but she held on, maintaining formation as they moved to surround and protect the hostages.

A tall, heavily armed Lasat sprang forward, but not at the Jedi themselves. Most species couldn’t have leapt over two humans and an Umbaran in one bound, but a Lasat could, and this one did. Orla realized what was happening too late to jump up and block him, only in time to think, There’s nothing between him and the hostages—

Thandeka screamed as Isamer’s blaster pointed directly at her. It was the first and only time she’d screamed during her abduction, and despite her mortal terror, she hated that she’d broken, even in the last split second of her life.

Then Cassel flopped toward her, not able to cover her body completely but close. His blue face was only centimeters from hers. Their eyes met.

The blaster bolt fired, deafening and blinding her as though it were the end of the world.

Master Laret spun around, slashing her lightsaber through the Lasat’s midsection in the instant after he’d fired. The two halves, cauterized, fell to the floor, and then there was no sound at all. It was all over within one minute. Orla stared at the wreckage before them—the smoldering walls and crates, the dead bodies on the floor, shot by their own deflected blaster bolts. How could it have ended so quickly?

The next sound she heard was sobbing.

Orla turned to see Monarch Cassel lying on the ground, his robe still smoldering from blaster burn. He was very near death. Queen Thandeka knelt beside him, tears streaming down her face. “You covered me,” Thandeka managed to say to Cassel. “You protected me. Why?”