Two of the mole mines popped out of the ground—dark-gray cylinders with grinding, gear-filled mouths at one end, the means by which they yanked themselves through the soil. As Bell reached the top of his leap, he seized both with the Force and flung them as far as he could into the air, a reflexive move he hoped would do the job.

The remaining two mines had not left the dirt, their primitive brains unsure where their target had gone now that he was no longer standing.

A huge sound, a whoomph, then a second a moment later, as both airborne mines exploded.

Bell felt a wash of heat—intense, but survivable.

He fell, seeing the endpoint of one of the mole mine trails just below him, and aiming himself toward it as best as he could.

Bell landed, stabbing his lightsaber into the ground, impaling one of the two remaining mines. The final explosive shot up into the air, and he reacted without thought, the Force as his guide, slicing it in half before it reached the apex of its leap.

The two halves of the mole mine, neatly bisected, fell to the ground, and Bell looked up.

He saw that Loden and Porter were dealing with their own attacks—each in their own way. Loden was using the Force to yank the mines out of the ground before they got anywhere near him, sending them flying high into the air to explode harmlessly over the rust flats. Porter was in a low crouch, his lightsaber out and lit, a bright-blue blade he held in a reverse grip.

He was simply slicing the mines in half as they popped out of the ground. One after another—the maneuver Bell had performed just once and didn’t even truly understand how he’d managed, Porter was doing again and again. The expression on his face never changed. His blade flashed, and the metal fell, and he remained untouched.

Both Bell and Loden were transfixed. They were both good swordsmen, and Loden had some claim to being great. But this was like nothing they had ever seen. Not at the Jedi Temple, not from Master Yoda or Zaviel Tepp, or even old Arkoff. Bell couldn’t imagine what it would be like to face Porter Engle in combat.

The display of skill was beautiful, and they could not stop watching, and so they did not see the mole mine that burrowed its way beneath the Vanguard, then shot up and destroyed itself in a paroxysm of joyful self-immolation. The explosion ripped the transport in half and shoved Bell and Loden to the ground in an impact they were barely able to cushion with the Force.

“You all right?” came Indeera’s urgent voice. “Loden! Porter! Answer me! What the hell is going on down there? Everything just started blowing up!”

Loden groaned and rolled over onto his back. He pulled his comlink from his belt.