His helmet felt like an oven.
Din immediately released his whistling birds upon the scoundrels; he didn't care that he would lose the birds until the Armorer could replace them.
Not when he could lose her.
The foundling needed to go into the pram; Din realized that he probably would have died if Cara had been holding him, and that thought didn't help the situation in his helmet.
She could be dead.
Shoving the pram closed and ignoring the child's protests, Din dove across the hallway and let the birds do their work; he didn't listen to the shrieks on the other side of the collapsing mountain.
Someone was still firing at him; with the pram closed and his helmet on, Din didn't particularly care. His first priority was opening the mountain and pulling out the treasure buried in it. Yanking back every piece of rock he could find, he didn't care that his gloves were going to rip or that he could still get nicked by blaster fire.
A ticking grenade landed right next to him-
-the explosion was going to bury Cara even more-
-he reached for the grenade to toss it back where it belonged-
-And Din found himself lifted up, along with half of the mountain, unsettled by the feeling of gravity without falling or a floor beneath him-
The foundling.
It had learned to open its pram, somehow, and its six fingers were outstretched-
-The baby spread his arms wide apart-
-And in a moment, Din found himself pushed aside, while rock and rubble flew past him, towards the remaining attackers-
The grenade went off farther down the hall than he could ever have thrown it, and everything that had been hanging in the air collapsed with a roar.
Din landed on his stomach, jerking his head up to find the child- had he been hit by a splinter or shrapnel-
The foundling turned towards him, smiling weaking with his ears perked up, like he wanted to make sure Din approved of his work. Pushing himself up, Din pulled the pram to his chest and gave the little one a quick scan for injuries.
The foundling grabbed his index finger, gave it a squeeze, and settled down into his pram to sleep.
And Din found himself alone in the ruins of the Jedi Temple.
No blaster fire echoing through the hall; no footsteps of another follower.
He turned to the mountain to continue digging for Cara-
And the foundling had done most of the work for him.
She was caked in dust, but he could see most of her face, her right arm, her left foot, and pieces of her armon. Stumbling to her side, Din tried to swallow back the rising lump in his throat as his helmet confirmed that her heat signature was steady, and she was still breathing.
He wouldn't have to leave the Temple without her.