As Vythia gazed up at Lord Lothal's face, Hunter removed his helmet and studied the triumphantly gesturing statue. Despite the richly embroidered, jewel-encrusted robes he wore, the Zabrak 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.

The sergeant folded his arms. "So that's Lord Lothal."

"I believe so." Vythia didn't look away from Lothal's face as 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, and turned to Tech, who was still kneeling between 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, who pointed to a particular statue. It was a man with high cheekbones and a shaved head who stood with his back pressed against the wall. He, like the others, appeared to be in pain. Despite this, 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 that he hadn't been afraid.

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 controls –" 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 had he been? Surely not a Sith – and the rest of the people? Why were they here?

Realizing that his teammates had been quiet for nearly a minute now, Hunter pulled his attention back to his surroundings. Tech was fidgeting next to him, while 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 on the statue's eyes with an almost unnerving intensity. It looked almost as though she were trying to read the Sith lord.

To Hunter's left, Crosshair leaned against the wall, gaze flitting 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. The sergeant waited until Crosshair noticed him watching, then raised an eyebrow.

Crosshair rolled his eyes as though Hunter's concern was entirely unwarranted, then straightened, casually tossing aside the broken toothpick. Well, Hunter supposed that if the sniper 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 the side 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. "Quinlan?"

Pulling his hand away from the boy's head, Quinlan looked pensively down at the statue's face, but it wasn't until Hunter called his name a second time that the Jedi finally looked up. "Sorry, what?"

"What are you doing?"

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

Hunter shrugged, glancing at 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 gestured to the man with the high cheekbones. "That guy looks . . . different."

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

When a few seconds passed without any change, Hunter grew restless. Putting one hand on his blaster, he turned back towards the stairway door, checking to make sure it was still open. 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 been able to end. 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. Twitching his head to shake off the sensation, he 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 was now leaning against the doorway and gazing 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 – the sergeant 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 didn't make a sound, but somehow Vythia knew 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 glanced sidelong at the Jedi and wondered how he was going to explain knowing that.

But Quinlan just looked bored. "They literally guard one of the largest collections of shaped kyber crystals in the galaxy," he said. "I don't know too much about them, except that 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, instead gesturing 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." Quinlan 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 was about to happen. He was busy trying to break Lothal's . . . mind-grip?"

"A Sith technique," said Vythia with a nod. "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. "Anyway, the Guardian put up a good enough fight that Lothal finally pinned him to the wall."

When he gestured with a faint grimace, 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, but 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 was going on about how 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."

"Hm." 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?"

". . . Actually, it means I don't know how to describe it." The Jedi squinted thoughtfully all the same.

Vythia was staring at the Kiffar, her eyes unfocused.

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 Scourge." Quinlan maneuvered his way out of the group of statues. "When everyone was petrified, you mean?"

"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. "Why would you want to see people being turned into stone?"

She gave him a vaguely sympathetic smile.

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

"Intriguing?" Quinlan asked, shaking his head. "It would be horrifying."

"Well, yes," Tech conceded. "But it would be fascinating to see the weapon. 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, then gestured to the Guardian. "Based on what he told him."

"Lothal 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. "It didn't kill them?" he repeated warily.

Tech tilted his head curiously. "Of course it killed them. They are obviously not alive; therefore, they must be dead."

". . . Obviously," agreed Quinlan 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 the Jedi in his usual friendly manner and sent him staggering.

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

"Hmm." 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 destroy it."

"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. 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 – which 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 . . . He shook his head. "Not if there's another way."

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

Crosshair shifted. "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 wall here would keep us from being trapped inside the vault, should something go wrong. Wrecker, you are the expert here. What are our chances of breaking through the door without harming these . . . statues?

"Pretty good, actually," Wrecker said, and reached for a charge. "You guys get back. I'll handle 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 meter or so from the silent Guardian.

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

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

"It is still misleading you." Vythia shook her head. "I believe it is in the vault."

"Okay." Hunter drew his pistol. "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 seven meters across in either direction. 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 eight meters 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. Lunging forward, he 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.

Crosshair jerked his chin at the artifact. "What is that thing? 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 along the case, Vythia walked around it, examining the edge where the glass joined the gold. "I do not want to break this. It would be 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, looking at the apparently fragile case.

"Quite sure."

"But – it's just glass."

"It is not 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 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 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 of the four sides, 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. When a harsh snap sounded, 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.

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

The second lock snapped.

Shaking his head at Tech, Quinlan turned briefly to check the entrance. Hurry it up, Hunter. We have got 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, and Vythia moved closer to the case, hands hovering over the crystal.

The fourth lock snapped.

Vythia studied it for several seconds, then lifted the top of the case and set it gently on the floor. Still, nothing happened.

Quinlan backed slowly toward the entrance. A warning in the Force hovered gently in the air all around him, weak through his shields but still noticeable. He wanted the others to back away from the mask.

Then 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.

With a nearly inaudible 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 to put himself between the entrance and the Jedi.

When the rattling of shards against armor and stone died away, Quinlan pushed himself slowly to his knees. Wrecker got up, arms still around Vythia's shoulders as he clutched her back against his chest the way she clutched the mask to hers. The others stood, eyeing the now-motionless statues warily. 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, pressing one hand to her upper back. The other hand held the mask carefully as she turned to look up at Wrecker. "Thank you, Wrecker."

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

"Yeah," said Hunter. "Let's get out of here."

They made their way back to the open space between Lord Lothal and his petrified victims, and were heading towards the stairway when Crosshair caught Hunter's shoulder and pulled him to a halt.

The sergeant glanced at him in confusion. "What is it?"

Crosshair let out an exasperated huff. "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 penetrating injury. Shall I extract it?"

"I'll handle it," said Hunter. "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.

Dragging one sleeve across his forehead, Quinlan 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 from his teammates, much to Quinlan's amusement. "Wait – guys, stop. 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 the Jedi. Taking the disinfectant back, 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 ignored him in favor of studying the long, thin shard. 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."

Hunter's gaze shifted guiltily to one side. ". . . No, I don't."

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

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

When Hunter gave a world-weary sigh, Wrecker released him.

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

"Thanks," said Hunter 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 disinfectant on his hands. He tilted his head pointedly, obviously insinuating that he, unlike Hunter, could actually carry through with this.

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

Quinlan snorted, despite himself, and absently noted that 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 slow breath.

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

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