by Greg Rucka
“Tell me those were the bombs,” Denic said.
“Those,” Baze said, “were the bombs.”
“One less thing to worry about.” She started for the cockpit, stopped. “We have three minutes, tops, before the stormtroopers decide that they’ve had enough of playing nice. Which means we’ve got two minutes to get out of here. Everyone get buckled up and say your good-byes.”
Killi was at the top of the ramp with Kaya. She had removed her respirator mask and was kissing her sister on the forehead. They embraced. Baze looked back to Chirrut, saw that he was giving Althin a hug. The boy was whispering something to him, and whatever he was saying made his friend smile.
“And I fear nothing,” Chirrut said. “Because all is as the Force wills it.”
Chirrut rose, moved to where Baze was standing, and Baze held out his walking stick, and Chirrut took it without hesitation. Beneath their feet, they felt a slight vibration as the primary repulsorlift systems came online, the engines beginning to power up.
“I’m going to miss you,” Chirrut said to Baze.
Baze smiled, then realized what Chirrut was actually saying, and said, “No, no. I am going to miss you .”
“Don’t be absurd. You must go with them.”
“No, you must go with them. It is for the best. They need your guidance.”
“This is not the time to argue with me, Baze Malbus. Here, your anger only grows. You must leave Jedha before it consumes you.”
“You cannot be left alone,” Baze said. “You would walk into walls.”
“I have not walked into a wall unintentionally in twenty years.”
“Yes, because I am here to keep you from doing that.”
“You must leave with them.”
Killi’s voice came up from the bottom of the ramp. “Don’t be absurd, neither of you is going anywhere without the other. Which means you’re both staying here.”
“With Saw Gerrera angry at us on one side for spoiling his plans, and the Empire wanting our hides now on the other?” Baze shook his head.
“The Empire will never know who was truly responsible for this.” Chirrut smirked. “They will blame Gerrera’s partisans, and in part they will be correct, and Gerrera will not dispute it for all the obvious reasons. And because, in the end, even if we did not allow him what he wanted, he still can claim yet another blow struck against the Empire.”
Baze grunted. “I really thought this was how I’d finally get rid of you.”
Chirrut laughed and headed down the ramp, Baze beside him. There was still a substantial crowd clustered at the mouth of the hangar bay, but Baze could see neither Tenza nor Fortuna. He and Chirrut stood with Killi, and Wernad, and Sperado. Together they watched as the ramp lifted into place and, almost immediately, the shuttle shuddered and lifted into the air. It rose slowly, ascending straight up, rotating in place as it did so. It cleared the top of the bay, and its nose lifted, and the engines roared.
Along with almost everyone else in the hangar, Baze found he was holding his breath.
Chirrut and Killi were praying softly, repeating their mantras.
The shuttle’s wings locked into flight position, and it banked gently, easily, as if it had all the time in the world. The shadow of the Star Destroyer fell over it, seemed to consume it, hiding it from view as the Sentinel passed underneath. Those who had lost sight of the shuttle instead turned their eyes to the hangar bay of the Star Destroyer.
But there were no TIEs to be seen.
No alarms could be heard.
Then the Sentinel was out of the shadow and into the sunlight, and the shuttle seemed to gleam in the sky as it accelerated, climbing faster and faster. Its shape grew less distinct, smaller and smaller, until it was a tiny speck, and then, an instant later, it was gone.
There was a moment of stillness, of silence in the hangar.
Baze and Chirrut could hear the stormtroopers approaching, the amplified voices shouting for people to clear the way. Hands reached for them out of the crowd, drew them in, wrapped them in anonymity. They saw Killi Gimm ushered away in one direction, found themselves shepherded along the promenade in another, until they were unknown and unnoticed once more.
Chirrut took a deep breath, let it go through his nose, settled his stance, his hands on his walking stick. Baze idly checked the Morellian in his hands and assured himself that it was fully charged.
“Tea?” Chirrut asked.
“Tarine?”
“Yes.”
Baze grunted. “Fine.”
They began the long walk home, through their city, together.
Credit: Jai Soots
Greg Rucka is a New York Times best-selling author of hundreds of comics and over two dozen novels, including the Star Wars books Before the Awakening and Smuggler’s Run . He has written for film, television, and video games. He lives in Portland, Oregon, with his wife, author Jennifer Van Meter, and their two children, Elliot and Dashiell.