by Rae Carson
Zorii hoped Lluda was somewhere nearby, watching.
With a quick prayer to the Dai Bendu monks of old, all the gods she’d never believed in, and even the Force, Zorii gave a hand signal in front of her helmet, ordering the detonation.
The tower blew. Icicles flew out, shattered against rooftops. The tower roof itself shot upward like a missile.
The troopers standing between her and her ship looked up…and did absolutely nothing. They just went back to their business, hardly giving it any mind.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered aloud.
Something tapped her shoulder, and she whirled so fast she almost lost her balance.
It was Lluda.
Her hair glowed against the night. Her cheeks were not red and chapped the way Zorii’s would be. Her breath didn’t even fog.
“I’ll distract them,” Lluda said. “You go.”
“Not without you.”
Lluda smiled. “You already saved my life, taking me in. I do this and we’re even.”
No. She couldn’t stand to lose anyone else. “Lluda, what will you…where will you…” Zorii opened her mask. Pleaded with her eyes. “We can do this. We can leave together and—”
“You know me. I’ll be fine. I always find a way.” The girl gave Zorii one last lightning grin and said, “Watch this!” And then she was off, scampering over the rooftops like she was born to it.
Zorii muttered swear words in every language she knew. Then she swicked her mask shut and prepared to run.
“Hey!” Lluda called, waving her arms in plain sight of the troopers. “Down with the First Order! Long live the Resistance!”
Blasterfire erupted around the girl as she took off, screaming insults. As one, they pursued, even the black-clad Knight.
Zorii jumped from the wall and landed in a puff of powder snow. She sprinted for her ship, which proved no easy task with every step sinking shin-deep.
She breathed in relief when she ducked under the tarp and found her ladder still intact. Zorii triggered the lock with her helmet so that the cockpit canopy was opening as she climbed. She leapt inside, hit the converters, pumped the fuel line, and pedaled the repulsorlift for a quick takeoff. She’d leave hot, no lights, and hope they couldn’t follow.
Blasterfire shook her Y-wing as she pivoted toward a safer launch trajectory, but her shields held. She’d lose her pursuers, and make a fast jump to lightspeed. But then she’d double back to Kijimi City and do a quick sweep for her crew. She had to try. With a little luck, maybe she could still rescue Lluda or someone else.
But where to after that?
As her ship broke atmo, she decided where she was going. In the very same moment, she forgave Poe Dameron. He hadn’t run away from her and the gang; he’d run to something. Zorii would do the same.
* * *
—
General Armitage Hux stood before Allegiant General Pryde, several stormtroopers beside them. His leg wound had been smothered in bacta gel and bandaged. Now his leg was uncomfortably warm and a little bit itchy. Small price to pay for getting away with treason and murder.
“It was a coordinated incursion, Allegiant General,” Hux reported. “They overpowered the guards and forced me to take them to their ship.”
Pryde stared at him a moment, nose high, eyes narrowed. “I see.”
Hux kept his face perfectly, determinedly blank. The bandage around his pants was stained with blood. A good showing that would bolster his account, he thought. But beneath his pant leg, a bit of bacta gel had oozed through the bandage and begun to slither, wet and warm, down his leg.
Pryde’s perpetual frown deepened. Something flashed in his eyes, something Hux had never seen before.
He suddenly found the act of breathing to be nearly impossible.
Pryde turned to the unit leader. “Get me the Supreme Leader.” Then he grabbed the stormtrooper’s rifle, pointed it at Hux, and shot him point-blank in the chest.
Hux was not dead before he hit the ground. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly as flashes of pain lit up every fiber of his being.
“Tell him we found our spy,” he heard Pryde say.
His last thought was of the scavenger. He hated that girl. She had ruined everything. Yet over and over again, she had faced Ren and survived. It gave him one bright shining spark of hope against the oncoming dark: Ren might still lose.
Then that spark, too, was consumed by darkness, and Hux knew no more.
CHAPTER 13
Kef Bir was technically a moon of Endor, but to Rey it seemed like a whole world. Flying into the atmosphere had revealed vast seas interrupted by tentative patches of land, covered mostly with grass. Shrubbery was scarce, settlements nonexistent.
C-3PO had connected with the HoloNet and informed them that Kef Bir used to be almost entirely underwater. But recent decades had seen several cataclysmic events, which had vented water into the atmosphere and caused tectonic upheaval, revealing more and more landmasses. Some theorized that the destruction of the second Death Star was to blame. Debris from the moon-sized base not only had rained down for years, but had collided with several nearby asteroids, creating a chain reaction of bolide hits to the moon’s surface and atmosphere.
Kef Bir had calmed in the past decade, and life was finding a hold. The moon was rumored to have even attracted a small number of settlers and refugees, though this was unconfirmed, and the moon’s official designation remained “uninhabited.”
Rey hadn’t been able to fix the landing gear and repulsors entirely by the time they arrived—just enough to slow their impact a little. Which was why, when they all exited the Falcon bruised and shell-shocked, it was to the sight of a massive scar in the damp ground, running behind them in a straight line as far as the eye could see.
Her ship’s fuselage was half buried in mud, and they’d had to exit out of the top hatch, but the Falcon remained almost flightworthy, and with a few repairs and a little luck they’d be able to take off.
After Rey had gotten what she’d come for.
The air smelled of salt and sun-kissed grass. Water prickled her skin, as though something was kicking up spray. The sky roiled with angry gray clouds, but everything remained bright, for the gas giant Endor provided reflected light in addition to the system’s sun.
Rey led them up a steep, grassy slope, following the coordinates they’d gotten from C-3PO. Even the droids followed; D-O’s uni-wheel was surprisingly effective against the grassy terrain.
Her breath came hard and her legs burned by the time their heads crested the top. Then Rey forgot to breathe at all.
They stood on the edge of a cliff at least six hundred meters high. Below them, a violent steel sea stretched into fog. Swells the height of a Star Destroyer rolled back to reveal jagged black shoals, only to crash back down in an explosion of white water and froth.
So much water, all in one place, carving cliffs, spearing the sky, spraying them with wetness, even at this distance. Where she’d come from, water was one of the most valuable substances in the galaxy. Turned out, it was also one of the most powerful.
The fog was clearing, and their view of the ocean pushed farther and farther into the horizon. A shape began to emerge, like a mountain of metal. No, a whole mountain range of metal. Beside her, Finn gasped.
It was a ship, or rather the remains of one, except this ship was larger than any ship Rey had ever seen. Its tattered hull arched out of the violent swells like an upside-down bowl, the jagged remains of its superlaser focus lens aimed at the sky. It was just like the starship graveyard on Jakku, except wetter. And about a thousand times bigger.
“What-what is that?” D-O asked.
“It’s the Death Star,” Rey said, staring at the colossal wreck. “It’s a bad place, from an old war.”
“I don’t think General
Leia had any idea this was here,” Poe said, his voice filled with wonder. “A huge chunk of the second Death Star, still intact…”
“Of course not, Master Poe!” C-3PO said. “It was likely submerged for more than a decade after the Battle of Endor. A terrible battle, according to the HoloNet. Oh, I would hate to endure something so dreadful.”
BB-8 warbled a question.
“From the sky, Beebee-Ate,” Rey said.
“The wayfinder’s in the Imperial Vaults,” Finn said, as if saying the words would help him believe it. “In the Death Star.”
“I hate to be practical,” Poe said, “but it’s gonna take us years to find it.”
Poe was right. How do you search something the size of a moon? Where do you even start?
Rey blinked, remembering. From the southern shore…C-3PO had said. She whispered, “Only this blade tells.”
She retrieved the dagger of Ochi of Bestoon. Held up its wicked edge so that it shimmered in the light.
The shape of the blade lined up exactly with the outline of the wreck.
Poe leaned forward.
Rey peered closer. The dagger’s crossguard was hinged. Keeping the blade aligned exactly where it was, she used her other hand to gently swing the crossguard down until it clicked into place—
—And pointed out a very specific section of ruin, southwest of the superlaser lens: a star-shaped structure, nestled in a crook of the jutting wreckage.
“The wayfinder’s there,” Rey said.
C-3PO’s coordinates hadn’t been the location of the wayfinder; instead they’d indicated exactly where to stand so that the dagger would show them the way.
“Heads up,” Poe warned.
Rey whirled. Finn and Poe whipped up their blasters.
A young woman about Rey’s age rode toward them atop a creature that looked like a fathier with tusks except large-boned and with a more generous coat of fur. The woman had dark skin like Finn’s, and beautiful obsidian hair that framed her face like a halo. The only weapon she carried that Rey could see was a bow, and Rey found herself filled with admiration and kinship when she noted that the bow was made of salvaged blaster parts. This woman would have done fine on Jakku.
Then nearly a dozen others rode up behind her, similarly mounted and armed.
“Rough landing?” said the woman.
“I’ve seen worse,” Poe said.
“I’ve seen better,” the woman said. “Are you Resistance?”
“Depends…” Poe said carefully.
“We picked up a transmission from someone named Babu Frik.”
Poe lowered his blaster.
“Babu Frik!” C-3PO exclaimed. “Oh, he’s one of my oldest friends!”
“He said you’d come. He said you were the last hope,” the woman said.
Rey stepped forward, feeling a smidge of optimism. “We need to get out to that wreck,” she said, pointing. “There’s something inside we need.”
“That could end the war for good,” Poe added.
The rider considered a moment, then said, “We have fishing skimmers. I can take you there by water.”
“Do you see that water?” Finn said.
“Not now,” she agreed. “Too dangerous. We can get there at low tide. First light tomorrow.”
“We can’t wait that long,” Rey said. She turned to Poe and Finn. “Kylo Ren’s right behind us.”
“Kylo Ren?” the woman said, exchanging a startled look with some of her fellow riders.
“We don’t have time,” Rey said.
“Do we have a choice?” Poe said. “Let’s get fixing the ship.” To the woman, he said, “Do you have parts here?”
“Some,” she said. “I’m Jannah.”
“I’m Poe.”
They all headed down the hillside toward the Falcon, except Rey, who lingered, gazing out over the ocean at the wreckage of the Death Star. To be so close…
After a moment, she forced herself to turn and follow her friends.
* * *
—
The riders had dismounted to let their creatures graze and work out some kinks. Orbaks, Jannah had called them. Finn thought they were great, the way they kicked up dirt when they ran, tossed their long manes, play-fought with their huge tusks. They were a lot like the fathier he and Rose had ridden on Canto Bight, except joyful and free. Also stouter, as though built for endurance and cold weather.
He smiled as an orbak snuffled BB-8. It made a noise—half grunt, half whinny—which BB-8 imitated with limited success.
“Hello!” said the little cone droid.
The orbak tossed its mane and roared in response—not an unfriendly gesture—but the tiny droid recoiled. “No, thank you. No, thank you,” he said, as BB-8 tried to assure him that the orbak was friendly. Finn left them to get to know one another, entering the Falcon.
“What a dreadful situation,” C-3PO was saying, as he and Poe ran a diagnostic on the forward shields. “Is every day like this for you people? Madness!”
“Did we ever find his volume control?” Poe said.
Their crash landing had also damaged the Falcon’s reserve atmo tank, though it wasn’t yet leaking. Fixing it now would prevent a much larger problem later. Finn got to work, glad to have something to fill the time, to distract himself from worrying about Rey.
A while later, Jannah entered, carrying a small rez cylinder—exactly what he needed to patch the tank. “It’s an oh-six, but it’ll work,” she said.
Finn took the cylinder, stared at it. “That’s a First Order part,” he said.
“There’s an old cruiser on the west ridge, stripped for parts.” She paused, as though coming to a decision, then added cautiously, “The one we were assigned to. The one we escaped in.”
Finn’s eyes flew wide. “Okay, wait. You were First Order?”
“Not by choice,” she clarified quickly. “Conscripted as kids. All of us. I was Tee-Zed One-seven-one-nine. Stormtrooper.”
Well, that explained the bow made of blaster parts, and the armband containing a transponder.
Finn came to a decision, too. “Eff-En Two-one-eight-seven,” he said.
“You?”
He nodded. Then he grinned. Someone like him! He couldn’t wait to tell Rey.
He dropped the cylinder. Sat down and leaned forward. “I never knew there were more!”
“Deserters. All of us here were stormtroopers. We mutinied at the Battle of Ansett Island. They told us to fire on civilians.”
Finn winced. He knew exactly how that felt.
“We wouldn’t do it,” Jannah said. “We laid down our weapons.”
“All of you?”
She nodded. “The whole company. I don’t even know how it happened. Wasn’t even a decision really. More like—”
“An instinct. A feeling,” he finished for her.
She looked at him in surprise. “Yeah. A feeling.”
Finn was nodding again. “The Force,” he said emphatically. “It brought me here. Brought me to Rey and Poe.”
“You say that like you’re sure it’s real.”
“Oh, it’s very real. I wasn’t sure then. But…” He smiled. “I am now.”
Whatever she was about to say in response was cut off when Poe and BB-8 rushed toward them.
Finn’s heart thudded. Somehow he knew exactly what Poe had come to tell them.
“Rey’s gone,” Poe said.
As one, they all rushed from the Falcon. Droids trailing, they clambered up the rise.
“She took the skimmer?” Jannah said in disbelief.
Finn raised his quadnocs and swept his gaze across the sea. “I see her,” he said. “Waaaayyy out there.” He handed the ’nocs to Poe.
“What the hell’s she thinking?” Poe said.
&nb
sp; Finn knew exactly what she was thinking; she was going after the Sith alone, in a misguided attempt to keep her friends from harm. Stupid, wonderful, maddening Rey. “We gotta go after her,” he said.
“We’ll fix the Falcon and get out there as fast as we can,” Poe said, hurrying down the rise toward the ship.
Finn followed. “We’re going to lose her!” he said, his voice rising. Lose her—not necessarily to death. Possibly to something worse.
Chewie and Jannah kept back, saying nothing as they argued.
“She left us!” Poe said. “What do you want us to do? Swim?”
“She’s not herself. You don’t know what she’s fighting.”
Poe stopped. Whirled. “Oh, but you do?”
“I do. And Leia does.”
“I’m not Leia!”
“That’s for damn sure.”
Poe recoiled as if struck, and guilt pierced Finn. That had been too harsh. Too close to the truth of Poe’s worries and fears. He should have known better. Before he could apologize, Poe tossed the ’nocs to him and walked away.
Finn sighed, climbing back up the rise. He lifted the ’nocs, and gazed out across the ocean. Rey’s skiff was barely more than a mote against the turbulent water. He had no idea how she was managing to navigate that thing, how she hadn’t capsized yet.
He couldn’t swim to her—that would be suicide. Maybe Poe was right and the only thing to do was repair the Falcon as fast as possible.
“Finn?” came Jannah’s voice.
He lowered the quadnocs.
“There’s another skimmer,” she said.
Hope stabbed through him. He started running.
* * *
—
The fact that the Millennium Falcon was transmitting again had probably already traveled base-wide, but Leia sensed it was time for a motivational talk. She ordered everyone to gather so she could officially report. It was the perfect time for good news. A brief tropical storm had dropped the temperature. Birds chattered in the jungle canopy above, celebrating the delightful coolness.