Hunter removed his helmet and studied the triumphantly gesturing statue for a long moment. Despite the richly embroidered, jewel-encrusted robes he wore, the Zabrak nevertheless looked as though he would have been a formidable enemy in life. He was well-built and taller than average for a Zabrak, and the multiple horns that grew from his forehead were much longer than normal. Hunter folded his arms. "So that's Lord Lothal."

"I believe so." Vythia hadn't looked away from Lothal's face. She reached up, touching the statue's rigid, outstretched hand almost respectfully. "It seems that he spent his last moments in forcing his subjects to remain where they were."

Way to spend your last moments, Hunter thought with a raised eyebrow. He turned to Tech, who was still kneeling between the two statues. "Tech, any way you can open that door?"

Tech studied the wall for a few seconds more, then shook his head. "Not while these statues are here. Look." He ducked beneath the pleadingly upraised arms of the Twi'lek woman and crawled to the next figure, who stood directly across from Lord Lothal.

Hunter wove his way between the stone figures to join Tech. A man with high cheekbones and a shaved head stood with his back pressed against the wall. He, like the others, appeared to be in pain. Despite this, though, Hunter thought he looked quieter than the rest of the stone people . . . resigned, maybe? There was something about this man's colorless, time-frozen eyes that made it obvious he had been unafraid.

The sergeant pulled his attention back to Tech, who had gripped the figure's shoulder and was tugging ineffectively at it. "Tech, what are you doing?"

"Give me a moment." Tech moved both hands to the statue and pulled harder.

Hunter glanced from at the stone figure, which was not only taller than Tech, but rooted to the floor. "I don't think you can move him."

"You are most likely correct, but the –" Tech threw his entire weight back, lost his grip, and nearly went sprawling.

Hunter caught him by one arm and hauled him upright again.

Tech straightened, brushed his hands together, and finished his sentence. "– The controls are behind him."

"The door controls?"

"Yes."

"Hm." Hunter studied the statue more carefully. The man wore a long, plain robe, which all but hid the knife hilt in his wide, intricately decorated belt. His face – Hunter followed the stone eyes' gaze back across the room. At the moment of death, this man had been staring his oppressor down. Who was he? Surely not a Sith . . . And who were the rest of these people?

Realizing that his teammates had been quiet for nearly a minute now, Hunter pulled his attention back to his surroundings. Tech was beside him, and Wrecker was pacing along the back wall, eyeing it carefully – probably looking for inconsistencies that might reveal the presence of another hidden door.

Vythia was still standing before Lothal, wide eyes focused unblinkingly on his face. It looked almost as though she were trying to read the Sith lord.

To Hunter's left, Crosshair leaned against the wall, glancing between everyone in the room. He looked relaxed enough, but the snapped toothpick clenched in one hand gave the lie to his otherwise slouching posture. Hunter waited until Crosshair noticed him watching, then raised an eyebrow.

The sniper rolled his eyes as though Hunter's concern was entirely unwarranted, then straightened, casually tossing aside the broken toothpick. Well, Hunter supposed that if Crosshair was focused enough to be a pain, he was focused enough that there was no real worry about him panicking.

That left one teammate. Hunter shifted his gaze to Quinlan, who stood in the midst of the group of statues. His gaze was distant as he rested a hand on top of a young boy's head – the child looked to be no more than twelve or thirteen. The Kiffar's glazed eyes shut abruptly, and he jerked his head to one side as though trying to shake off a troublesome thought or feeling.

Hunter hesitated, then spoke. "Vos?"

Quinlan pulled his hand away from the boy's head, looking pensive, but it wasn't until Hunter called his name a second time that the Jedi looked up. "Sorry, what?"

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to find a clue that could help us. What does it look like?"

Hunter shrugged, his gaze flitting to Vythia.

Quinlan's eyes followed his own, and he made a wry face. "I'm not sensing anything different," he said. "The artifact still feels like it's a few hundred meters back. Thought maybe if I saw what happened . . ."

Vythia, now studying the runes that had been embroidered into the edge of Lothal's cloak, spoke without looking at him. "Can you not?"

"Not really. Nothing but emotions from this one, anyway." Quinlan's tone was casual, but he rested a hand gently on the statue's head, almost as though he wanted to comfort the long-dead boy. "I'll try someone else."

"Maybe that one." Hunter pointed to the man with the high cheekbones. "He looks . . . different."

"Yeah, you're right. Almost like a dignitary of some sort." Quinlan moved to join Tech, then reached out and touched the statue's hand, closing his eyes.

When a few seconds had passed without any change, Hunter grew restless. Putting one hand on his blaster, he turned back towards the stairway door. He'd never been claustrophobic, and he knew that even he couldn't truly feel the weight of the earth above this chamber. Somehow, though, the dim room seemed too small.

Maybe it was the knowledge that the statues in this room had once been living and breathing people. A battle had taken place here – even if only a battle of wills – but it had never ended. Between one moment and the other, everyone had been petrified.

Hunter wasn't scared of much, but the frozen, unfinished motions around him were making his spine crawl. He twitched his head to shake off the sensation and focused on his teammates again.

Wrecker, who had joined Vythia, was swinging his arms back and forth and looking between the Nautolan woman and the statue as though trying to understand what could possibly be so fascinating. Hunter had to wonder the same thing himself.

Crosshair had moved to the doorway and now leaned against it, staring sideways at the stairway landing. Tech hovered over Quinlan, datapad in one hand as his gaze flicked from the Jedi's face to the hand which rested on the statue's arm. Tech was completely focused – Hunter could tell because he wasn't moving, not even to take notes. That doesn't exactly happen often.

It was a full minute before the Jedi shifted and drew back. He hadn't made a sound, but somehow Vythia seemed to know he'd finished, because she spun on her heel to face him. "Well?"

The Kiffar blinked a couple of times as though clearing his vision. "This guy was with the Jedi."

"Oh? But not a Jedi himself?"

"No. He was a Force-sensitive and a Guardian of the Whills . . . I didn't know they'd been around for so long."

She raised a dark eyebrow. "I'm surprised you know about them at all."

Hunter tensed and glanced sidelong at the Jedi. How was he going to explain knowing that . . .?

Vos looked bored. "They literally guard one of the largest collections of shaped kyber crystals in the galaxy. I don't know too much about them, but they've got this uncanny way of knowing where people are. It's annoying."

"Wait," Crosshair said. "You tried to steal from them?"

Quinlan shrugged, but didn't actually answer. He gestured to the Guardian. "He and a small group invaded Lothal – I think they lost. He seemed to think he was the last one."

"Then what was he doing all the way down here?" Hunter asked.

"He came to destroy the temple."

"That would fit," Vythia mused. "The Jedi destroyed many temples during their invasion."

"Yeah." Vos rubbed his hands against the sides of his tunic. "Anyway, Lothal got here first – he used his people as a shield for the vault, trapped the Guardian, and told Darth Tanis to release his weapon. I got the impression the Guardian didn't know what that meant. He was busy trying to break Lothal's . . . mind-grip?"

"A Sith technique," said Vythia. "It is used to subjugate the wills of others."

Every time Hunter learned something new about the Sith, he felt more and more inclined to dislike them on principle.

". . . Right," said Quinlan. "The Guardian put up a good enough fight that Lothal finally pinned him to the wall."

He gestured with a faint grimace, and Hunter turned on his heel to observe the statue. He'd thought the knife was hanging from the Guardian's belt, because it was mostly covered by the robes. It had actually been driven through the man's waist.

"He pinned him to the wall?" Wrecker asked. "How? It's all rock!"

"Lothal managed," said Quinlan wryly. "He said the Guardian would pay for trying to destroy the Sith."

"Hm." Tech quirked an eyebrow. "It sounds to me as though the Guardian had already 'paid' at that point."

"I think Lothal was referring to the superweapon," Quinlan answered. "The last thing the Guardian heard was Lothal." His voice took on a raspier quality, and he leaned forward slightly as he quoted: "You will spend eternity protecting what you tried to destroy."

Crosshair glanced at the Guardian's still-open eyes. "And then he died?"

Quinlan abruptly dropped his odd persona. "No . . .? I mean, maybe. There was this rush of fractured purple light. Then the memories cut off."

Tech blinked. "Fractured purple light? What, precisely, does that mean?"

". . . It means I don't know how to describe it." Vos squinted thoughtfully all the same.

Vythia was staring at the Kiffar, but her eyes didn't seem to really be seeing him.

Quinlan didn't notice. "Okay. You know how light scatters when you send it through a prism?"

Tech nodded.

"Well, think of it like that – except the light was all purple instead of different colors and it filled the air and looked all, I don't know . . . fractaled? Is that even a word?"

"Fractalated," corrected Tech.

"Right. That."

Vythia looked awed. "You saw the Scourge."

The Jedi maneuvered his way out of the group of statues. "When everyone was petrified?"

"Yes." She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Quinlan, I did not envy you your gift of psychometry before, but now . . ."

Quinlan brushed past the last statue. "Okay, but why would you want to see people being turned into stone?"

She gave him a vaguely sympathetic smile. "None of you could be expected to understand."

Tech hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose it would be intriguing."

"It would be horrifying," Quinlan argued.

"Well, yes," Tech conceded. " But I still cannot understand how such a thing would happen. Based on the data I've gathered, it seems these people transformed completely into stone. I had thought that perhaps they were petrified the way most fossils are – though much faster, of course – but that does not actually seem to have been the case."

"No one really understood," Vythia said, making her way to the Guardian. "Even Darth Tanis did not understand."

"He didn't know what it would do?" Hunter asked.

She shook her head.

"Lothal seemed to know," Crosshair said, gesturing at the Guardian.

"He most likely foresaw it, mere moments before his death." Vythia examined the knife-hilt and brushed a finger along it. "The superweapon was supposed to kill those on the planet, not turn them into stone."

For some reason, the Jedi cast a darting look around the room as he backed away from the statues. "It didn't kill them?"

Tech gave his head a curious tilt. "Of course it killed them. They are obviously not alive; therefore, they must be dead."

". . . Obviously," agreed Vos with an uncertain grimace.

Hunter exchanged a look with Crosshair, but said nothing. Quinlan's unease probably had to do with the Jedi, or Jedi beliefs. Bringing that up now would only make Vythia more suspicious than she already was.

"So!" said Wrecker, breaking the awkward silence. "How are we gonna get through the door?"

He elbowed Vos in his usual friendly manner, sending him staggering.

"Ow," the Jedi complained. He elbowed Wrecker back, wincing when his elbow cracked against armor. "Ow again. And I have no idea."

"Indeed." Vythia paced from one side of the Guardian to the other. "We may well be forced to destroy this statue."

There was a short pause.

"That . . ." Tech adjusted his goggles. "Hm. Well, you are correct that we cannot access the door controls without first removing the statue from the wall."

Quinlan rubbed the back of his head. "I don't think we should."

"Yeah," said Wrecker. "Can't we just blow a hole in the door itself?"

Vythia's eyes flitted across all of them, and she smiled curiously. "You don't want to destroy the statue?"

Hunter stepped forward before the others could speak. "I don't like the idea of blowing up a person – even if he's dead and turned to stone."

"He is blocking our way forward," she pointed out. "And he is long dead. What will it matter to him what is done with his body?"

Hunter hesitated. He didn't know the answer himself. Based on what he knew – and it was little enough – the Guardian would probably be glad to no longer be blocking the way into Lothal's vault. Especially if he knew that Quinlan would be destroying all the artifacts they found. Still, though . . . "Not if there's another way."

"Well, then." Vythia's gaze shifted briefly to Crosshair. "I suppose we could try and find another way."

Crosshair shifted. "It's not like we're in any hurry."

Vythia only gave him a knowing smile before turning back to the door. "I am still concerned about attacking this structure directly . . . but breaking through the vault wall would keep us from being trapped inside, should something go wrong. Wrecker, you are the expert here. What are our chances of breaking through the door without harming these . . . statues?"

Wrecker reached for a charge. "Pretty good, actually. You guys get back. I'll take care of this part."


Quinlan watched from the stair landing as Wrecker finished placing the detonator tape. The Jedi Knight had, of course, used multiple explosives in the past. In fact, he figured he knew more than most Jedi about how one could use (and misuse) breach charges, thermals, and detonator tape.

Wrecker, though, took using explosives to a whole new level. Based on the big commando's usual carefree attitude, Quinlan had assumed he'd just slap a breach charge on the wall and hope it blew a big enough hole, but Wrecker was setting charges with focused precision. Guess it's not only Tech's who's scientific about his hobbies.

"Almost done," Wrecker said over one shoulder. "Everyone keep back – if I miscalculated somethin', these statues'll turn into shrapnel."

"Got it," acknowledged Hunter.

Quinlan glanced at the group of statues again. He'd suffered no excessive emotions from using his psychometry on the Guardian, because the Guardian had been so utterly calm when he died – or got turned into stone, or whatever. Quinlan hoped to the Force that everyone here had been killed, and not had their souls trapped, bound helplessly between life and death.

An old legend told about a group of Sith who had condemned their enemies to that fate once. To this day, it was said, no one knew how to release them. It probably was just a legend . . . Except that there were occasional reports of explorers and raiders who would camp near a particular temple, and then wake in a panic and leave, even abandoning their treasures, because the trapped souls had cried to them in their dreams. And people wonder why half the Sith planets are considered cursed.

"Done!" Wrecker's voice jerked him from his thoughts as Wrecker rushed into the small landing and ducked against the wall near Quinlan.

The muted, sequential explosions were followed by a clattering of falling rock. All six members of the team stepped away from the walls and peered back inside. None of the statues appeared to be damaged, but there was now a gaping hole in the wall, a few feet from the silent Guardian.

"Good work," said Hunter, moving into the statue room. "Vos, are you still sensing the artifact?"

"Yeah . . . but it still feels like it's it behind us."

Vythia shook her head. "I believe it is in the vault."

"Okay." Hunter drew his pistol and switched on the light. "You want us to head in first, Vythia?"

She considered a moment, then agreed. Wrecker handed her one of the lanterns.

Hunter and Tech moved to either side of the hole and checked the room before stepping in, turning away from each other as Crosshair covered the center. Quinlan followed with Wrecker, who carried the second lantern.

They all stopped together, just inside the entrance.

The vault itself was perhaps twenty feet across in both directions. Against the back wall and to either side of the team, a pair of golden eyes gleamed maliciously in the lantern light – two more of the four-armed statues, each holding one of the all-but-featureless figures in its clawed grip. The vault walls were curved, extending inward and upward until they joined a high peak, some twenty-five feet over their heads. Directly in the center of the floor was a case of shimmering glass, utterly free of dust, which rested on a base of what appeared to be solid gold. In the case gleamed a golden object.

Tech moved closer. "Is that the artifact?"

Quinlan's Force-senses screamed at him even through his shielding. He lunged forward, grabbed Tech's wrist, and yanked him to a halt. "Don't touch it."

"I was not intending to," Tech said, pulling away with a curious look. "I was only attempting to open the case."

"I meant, don't touch the case," Quinlan said, backing away from it. Something was deeply wrong with this vault, and he wanted nothing more than to get out.

"What is that thing?" Crosshair asked, jerking his chin at the artifact. "Some kind of mask?"

A shadow fell across the case, and Quinlan glanced over his shoulder.

Vythia entered the vault, black eyes glinting as she stared at the artifact. "Lothal's mask," she breathed.

Hunter shifted so that he could see both Vythia and the statues. "What about it?"

Vythia handed Hunter her lantern and approached the case, resting a hand on the golden base. "It is locked. The key must still be with Lothal."

"Uh." Quinlan swallowed against the unfamiliar dryness in his throat. "Well, we can't exactly do anything about that."

"No. Perhaps there is another key, though." Her gaze flitted up and around and came to rest on the back wall of the vault, between the two statues.

"Don't go near those," Wrecker warned. "That's what made 'em drop the breaking statues last time."

"Yes, I know." Trailing her hand on the case, Vythia walked around it, examining the edge where the glass joined the gold. "I do not want to break this . . . Far safer to use the key. But if there isn't one, we may have to."

Tech looked up from his scanner. "It would be exceptionally hard to break the case without damaging the artifact."

"You sure about that?" Wrecker asked doubtfully.

"Quite sure."

"But – it's just glass."

"This case is not made of glass." Tech adjusted his goggles. "It is made from what I believe to have been a single euhedral crystal."

". . . A what?" Quinlan asked.

"To put it simply, euhedral crystals have flat faces with sharp angles, which are oriented relative to the underlying atomic arrangement of the crystal." Tech returned to his datapad, pressing buttons without care while everyone else stared at him. "This case was made from an ideal crystal; it has no imperfections whatsoever. In fact, I am beginning to wonder whether it was grown in its finished shape – though that is unheard of. It would be next to impossible, even under the most carefully controlled circumstances."

Hunter's expression was impassive, but his eyes were smiling as he said, "You done, Tech?"

Tech glanced sideways at him, then gave a sheepish nod. "Yes."

"Right," said Wrecker slowly. "So . . . we can't blow the crystal up, 'cause it'll damage the mask. What about cutting it?"

"Even your vibroblade would only scratch it," Tech said. "I suppose Hunter could try his lightsaber, but I think that might also cause the crystal to shatter."

"Okay," said Wrecker. "Then what about blowing up the gold part?"

"Same problem," said Crosshair, slinging his rifle over one shoulder. "If that crystal explodes –"

"Then we cut through the hinges," Quinlan interrupted, not looking away from the statues. We have got to get out of this room . . .

"There are no hinges," said Vythia. "Only locks."

Quinlan moved cautiously over to the case. The golden mask, which rested on a bed of dark red material, was a near-exact replica of Lothal's face. Only the empty eye sockets and the six-inch horns which sprouted up and out from the forehead were different. The red fabric showed through the empty eyes, giving the otherwise serene countenance a dark look.

As Quinlan walked around the case, careful not to touch it, he realized that there was an oddly-shaped keyhole on each side, set into the rim that joined the crystal and the gold. "The keyholes all look the same."

"Yes," said Tech, not looking up from his screen. "Each side of the crystal is held tightly in place by two strips of impervium, which are held together by a series of clamps which pierce through both the impervium and the crystal itself. The clamps should disengage when the key is used."

"Simple enough." Hunter drew his knife. "Snap the lock, and the clamps release."

Vythia narrowed her eyes at the statues for a long moment, then nodded. "It seems the best way. Go ahead, Hunter."

Don't go ahead, Hunter, Quinlan thought, but he held his tongue with an effort. After all, despite his misgivings, nothing had happened when Vythia touched the case. . .

Hunter slipped the knife tip into the first lock, hesitated, then turned it sharply. A harsh snap sounded, and everyone looked warily at the statues.

Nothing happened.

Hunter let out his breath and moved on to the next lock. "So far, so good."

"Don't jinx it," muttered Crosshair, folding his arms.

Tech gave Quinlan a curious look and tilted his head at Hunter, as though to draw the Jedi's attention to the fact that Hunter had touched the case without any ill effects.

The second lock snapped.

Quinlan shook his head at Tech and turned briefly to check the entrance. Hurry it up, Hunter. We have to get out of here . . .

With another sharp turn of his knife, Hunter broke through the third lock.

Crosshair stepped further into the room, tilting his head back to examine the peak of the vaulted ceiling. Vythia moved closer to the case, hands hovering over the crystal.

The fourth lock snapped.

Vythia lifted the top of the case and set it gently on the floor. Still, nothing happened.

Quinlan backed slowly toward the entrance. The warning in the Force hovered gently in the air all around him, weak through his shields but still noticeable. Come on, let's move! he thought, wishing the others would back away from the mask.

Vythia rested her fingers on the artifact.

Nothing changed. Remembering what had happened with the shard of the Sith'ari's weapon, Quinlan focused on building up his shields until he could hardly hear the Force.

Drawing a deep breath, Vythia reverently lifted the mask.

A blast of dark energy was expelled through the room, striking at Quinlan's mind even through the shielding.

With a near-silent slither of stone on metal, the two statues rotated to face the group. Four sets of arms swung mechanically upward, then forward. Clawed fingers released their ebony captives, slinging them through the air at the intruders.

Quinlan and the commandos threw themselves to the ground, Hunter yanking his helmet on as he moved, but Vythia spun to face the statues too late. One of the flying figures clipped her arm as it flew past, and she was jolted hard into the gold frame, her upper back slamming against the metal edge.

Wrecker lunged up, grabbing Vythia and turning away to shield her as the ebony figures splintered against the wall to either side of the entrance. At the same instant, Quinlan's view was cut off as Hunter shifted, putting himself between the entrance and the Jedi.

When the spattering of shards against armor and stone died away, Quinlan pushed himself slowly to his knees. Wrecker got up, still with his arms around Vythia's shoulders, clutching her back against his chest the way she clutched the mask to her chest. The others stood, casting wary looks at the now-motionless statues. Blood dripped from Tech's forehead and chin and from Crosshair's left cheekbone.

Hunter removed his helmet. "Everyone okay?"

"I'm fine," said Wrecker, setting Vythia down.

"I am, as well," she replied breathlessly, pressing one hand to her upper back. The other hand held the mask carefully. "Thank you, Wrecker."

Quinlan stood, careful not to brace his hands against the multiple tiny shards that now peppered the floor. "I assume we're done here," he said, trying to keep his voice casual.

They returned to the open space between Lord Lothal and his victims, and Hunter was turning towards the stairway when Crosshair caught his shoulder and pulled him to a halt.

Hunter glanced at him in confusion. "What is it?"

Crosshair let out an exasperated huff. "When exactly were you going to mention the piece of stone in your arm?"

Hunter blinked and rotated his left arm, trying to catch a glimpse of the shard that had pierced through his blacks and the back of his upper arm. "I thought it was just a cut."

Tech leaned forward to examine the shard. "No, it is definitely a penetration. Shall I extract it?"

"I'll handle it," said Hunter. "Go get those cuts cleaned up. And next time, you and Crosshair keep your helmets on."

Tech rolled his eyes and went to obey, while Vythia moved carefully over to the stairway. She seated herself on the lowest step and rotated the mask slowly in her hands.

Quinlan rubbed the sweat from his forehead and tried to block the mask from his mind by turning back to the others.

Crosshair, still standing behind Hunter, removed a roll of medical gauze and a small bottle from his belt pouches, drew his knife, and said, "Wrecker?"

"Sure thing!" Wrecker marched over.

"Uh, no." Hunter tried unsuccessfully to back away, much to Quinlan's sympathetic amusement. "Wait – guys, I told you, I'll handle it."

"Sorry, Hunter." Wrecker caught the sergeant by his forearms. "Nice try, though."

"Hunter." Tech jumped into the conversation from where he was carelessly and inaccurately plastering bacta strips over the cuts on his face. "There is no way you could pull the shard out at that angle without injuring yourself further."

"Yeah." Crosshair slit Hunter's sleeve a bit further, sheathed his knife, and held the small bottle out to Quinlan. "Open that, would you?"

Quinlan obeyed while Crosshair unwound a length of gauze, which he also handed to Quinlan. Taking the disinfectant back from the Jedi, Crosshair rubbed some directly onto his gloves.

"How is that supposed to work?" said Quinlan, just to bother him. He'd long ago figured that the gloves must be waterproof.

Crosshair rolled his eyes, but ignored him in favor of studying the long, thin shard for a moment. Then, without further ado, he gripped it tightly and yanked it straight out, dousing the injury liberally with disinfectant in the same movement.

Hunter jerked and glanced over his shoulder to growl, "Blast it, Cross – warn me next time, would you?"

"Warning you never works." Crosshair pressed a fresh piece of gauze against the gash, handed Quinlan the disinfectant again, and reached for a small bacta patch. "You always get ten times jumpier."

"No, I don't," Hunter argued, his gaze shifting guiltily to one side.

Quinlan raised an eyebrow as Crosshair took the gauze back from him. So far, the sergeant had proven himself to be a truly terrible liar.

Tech trotted over to join them, helmet in one hand and datapad in the other. "Yes, you do."

Hunter gave a world-weary sigh. "Wrecker?"

Wrecker released him.

Crosshair slid the edges of Hunter's torn sleeve over the bandage to add some pressure. After winding the gauze around his arm to bind everything in place, he tapped his shoulder. "All set."

"Thanks," said Hunter a bit grouchily as he turned to face him. He started to speak, then eyed Crosshair's blood-streaked face instead, raising a meaningful eyebrow. "What about –"

"I'll handle it," Crosshair said, rubbing more disinfectant on his hands. He tilted his head pointedly, very obviously insinuating that he, unlike Hunter, could actually carry through with this.

Hunter smacked his arm with the back of one hand. "Stop being a jerk."

Quinlan snorted, despite himself. He was still a bit shaky from the aftereffects of the surge of panic he'd suffered when the two statues rotated like that. The memory of those impassively focused golden eyes as the statues hurled their black stone prisoners made the smile fade from his face. He drew a shuddering breath.

"Hey." Wrecker elbowed him, less roughly than usual. "Least we can get back up to the top now."


Yes, the Guardian was a direct tribute to Chirrut Imwe . . . A great character, despite his lack of screen time. :D