So I watched star wars for the first time ever a couple of days ago and got insanely inspired. Thus, a new fic is born. There are going to be some similarities with star wars but hopefully not too much plot wise.

Either way, please enjoy :)


Chapter 1

Escape from New Oh - io5

The planets live in a state of peace, the senate keeping order to the legion

of the galaxy while governed by Emma, the Madame President. Her close adviser,

Will Schuester, plays part in a bigger role. The finding and training of those able

to wield the force.

Ever since the death of Luke Skywalker, there have been few with this ability. It

is said that four will prevail with the force, using it for good to keep the balance

within the galaxy.

An evil empress, Sue Sylvester, also searches for those. Not to train them but to

destroy them. Banished by the senate, she wishes nothing more that to watch

the world filled with misery, while being the supreme leader. She has been waiting,

building her army in secret until the right time to attack. Now she is ready, but

the senate may not be . . .


Will Schuester sits in the room of records, staring at the shelves of books. Knowledge of the past and all its secrets. Knowledge beyond compare.

But it's not the past that worries him tonight.

It's the present.

A heavy weight looms over him, one that he's never experienced before and one that he dreads. A presence is here – waiting, watching.

For what though?

He stands suddenly, taking to a brisk pace around the marbled floor as he thinks. It's only a knock on the door that brings him from deep within his mind.

"Will?"

The man turns, cloak floating in turn with him. "Burt," he greets the senator with a smile, "how are you?"

"Honestly?" the burly man sighs, moving to sit down, "troubled. The Madame President hasn't returned from her travels to the Bravo systems and we have received no communications from the Captain. I am beginning to suspect foul play."

Emma. Will's heart beats frantically at the news, mind jumping to the worst scenario. He forces a calm façade, though inside it can only be described as turmoil. "Foul play, you say? But her guards are the best in the galaxy, what could have possibly happened to them?"

Burt appears thoughtful, yet grave. "The same thing that happened to Senators Figgins and Bieste."

He holds in a gasp.

"Sue Sylvester."

"The Empress," he adds, a bitter taste in his mouth, "as she is calling herself."

He throws his hands up in confusion, "She doesn't have the resources to do this." His frown deepens, face carved with worry lines, "she was banished." Disbelief lines his words, not to mention a reluctance to believe Burt's words.

"I don't know how she's doing it, but everything is pointing toward her. She wants revenge, and she's clearly not going to stop at anything to get it."

Will ponders his statement. "How serious is this threat to the senate?"

"With our Madame President? Extremely. She could gain control in a matter of weeks."

"Then I must go rescue her."

"Will," Burt sighs, "Do you really think that is wise?" He hints toward something they've never spoken about aloud, but they've both known to be true for a while.

He purses his lips. "I will not let my feelings cloud my way."

"I fear they already have." He rises to his feet now, standing smaller than Will but seemingly so much bigger in that moment. Will does nothing to hide his disappointment, though inside he knows that there is truth in Burt's words. "I will take my men, and you must stay here. Continue your training of the young ones."

"There is not much left to train them, Burt," he admits, "everything that we know of the old ways has been given to them. I cannot fill in the gaps."

He places a firm hand on his shoulder. "You must teach them all you know. If the rumours are true, then Sue's fleet is building and we are running out of time. They may be our only hope."

A long pause follows, "but we have not yet found the fourth."

"It will happen. Have faith." His face is tired as he speaks the next words. "Now I must go and prepare my ship. Please, keep an eye on my son while I am gone."

"Kurt will be fine." A smile finally graces his lips. "Your son is strong."

Burt returns it, eyes fond, "I know, but he has a knack for trouble. I think Finn has been too much of an influence on him."

"Finn is a good kid, too. He just . . . needs to find his purpose."

"He needs to find ways to stop me from having an early heart attack," he jokes, "he and that Puckerman are very good at testing me." Will can't disagree with that. Finn, though twenty one, is still struggling with the jump into adulthood, and he only hopes that he makes it soon.

Another knock sounds around the large room, the two men turning in anticipation. "Sir, we've had a problem."

Burt raises his brow. "What is it?" he asks, impatient.

"Your ship, sir. It's gone."

"Gone?"

The man, barely over twenty, cowers under the gaze of his superior. Will doesn't blame him – Burt can be quite intimidating when he wants. "And who, dare I ask, has taken it?"

"Master Hudson, sir."

Burt sighs, a slow motion face palm following.

Looks like today isn't the day that Finn is delving into adulthood.


"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Finn asks as he stares ahead with concentration. The uncertainty is his eyes gives his feelings away, causing Puck to roll his own.

"Stop being such a pussy." He then smirks, tongue poking dangerously out between his lips, "Sam says that Chokko City is awesome. Drinks, girls – you can even see the asteroid showers from the planet's surface. That's some real romantic shit right there." He spins in his seat, flicking switches in a well-rehearsed pattern. When his enthusiasm doesn't reach Finn, he shoves his side to evoke a response.

Finn grumbles, punching him back, "what was that for?"

"Pay attention," he punches the line.

"I am."

Once again, his words betray him. And Finn feels . . . really weird. Okay, so he always feels kinda shitty when he steals his step – dad's ship, but this is different than some well-placed guilt. This is - it's new. A dread that fills every tendril inside of him and has his hands trembling as he controls the ship. Even Puck seems to notice.

He pauses in his long speech of what antics they'll get up to in Chokko. "You alright, dude?"

"Yeah . . ." Finn starts, blinking himself back into the control room. "I just –"

His words are cut short as the alarm system sounds, red blazing around the room as the two scramble to figure out what's wrong.

"Missile," Puck confirms, homing in with the computer, "not too far, either." He doesn't linger, "I'll man the gun. You think you can handle her by yourself?"

Finn, holding in his panic, nods determinedly, altering all the controls to manual. "Yeah, I can do it." His eyes scan back to the screen, "be quick, Puck. This thing is not giving up." He tries to steer away from it, but it's dead – locked on the ship. He can feel his pulse in his ears, blood coursing excitedly through his veins as the chase begins and his piloting skills are really tested. His grip is painfully tight on the controls, tugging the ship this way and that to try and evade the missile.

"IT'S NOT GOING AWAY!" Puck hollers from below.

His head spins, "Any idea where it came from?" His eyes lock straight ahead, looking for anywhere to lose it. "Could be rogue?"

He hears Puck scoff. "Rogue? It's coming right for us!" Finn inwardly curses, knowing his friend to be right. His confusion skyrockets as he sees no sign of a ship behind them. "I knew we shouldn't have come to the outerim," Puck continues, "full of pirates and crazy people who SHOOT AT YOU FOR NO REASON!" A series of slams and yells follows.

"Chill dude," he insists. Finn deepens his breaths, trying to remain in control. "BB – 8, come on bud. I'mma need you." He doesn't need to turn to hear his droid powering into action, a series of beeps alerting him to his alartness. "I need you to focus all power to the hyper drive," he explains, "I need to make a jump to lightspeed and I need to do it now."

BB – 8 rolls beside him, entering the ship's main control panel and beginning its work. The cockpit feels relatively calm despite Puck cursing and yelling as he shoots at their target. But the façade of success is broken through as the ship suddenly lurches forward, but not from any of his doing.

"WE'VE BEEN HIT!" Puck announces, frustration growing, "our blasters are gone."

"Shit, shit, shit," Finn murmurs, "BB – 8, gimme some good news." The droid rudely beeps back, "this is not the time to be patient." Footsteps alert him to Puck's return, the man jumping back into his seat and pointing to the screen.

"More, Finn. There are two more. What is going on?"

"I don't know but I don't like it." He clenches his teeth, doubt setting in. The ship frantically moves about the sky, weaving and dodging around the now three missiles intent on the falcon. The alarm systems plus Puck's incessant shouting send his adrenaline up once more, eyes narrowing ahead.

Still no sign of anywhere to hide.

Then he hears BB – 8 excitedly beeping behind him, and he doesn't hesitate to make his move. Without a second thought he turns on the hyper drive and squeezes his eyes shut in hope.

Then silence.

His breath held and body still, he panics for a moment. Is he dead? He can feel the heat of the malfunctioning ship, then the alarms begin to grow louder and louder again as his senses once more allow everything back in. For a moment, he'd been able to push everything away until there was nothing.

Finn frowns, no time to dwell on it as he realizes they're not out of danger.

"Stop the ship!" Puck continues to yell in his ear, so loud that he thinks he might be deaf now.

His eyes focus in on the planet, the same one that they're rocketing towards at a ridiculously fast speed, so much that they breach the atmosphere in a matter of seconds. The falcon shakes through it, debris falling off as it struggles to slow down.

The boy tries to ignore his friend's shouting. "I'm landing her, okay?" More like crash landing, he thinks, eyes wide and terrified. The falcon screeches in protest as he tries to slow her too soon, sending BB – 8 rolling backwards and crashing into the door. "Sorry!" he winces, then adds, "we can't slow down in time!"

Puck's head snaps toward him. "What?" He tries helping with the controls, but this eventually leads way to just banging the console and screaming out profanities. "Finn, if we die I'm gonna kill you!"

"We won't die!" he shouts, then hesitates, ". . . I think."


Rachel narrows her eyes at the latest guard to hurry her along – done this time with a strong shove forward. "I'm walking!" she hisses back, only to earn the same response. She groans, a combination of frustration, hopelessly and exhaustion. The sun beats down even through the thick, dark canopy of leaves; she feels sweat beading on her forehead.

Her curiosity peaks as she spies the single spire of smoke rising toward the golden sky, trying to look past the next engineer to see better, but failing. Damn her height! "Alright," Zimio grumbles aloud, not bothering to address any of them in particular. He points behind him, expression disinterested, "you know the drill. Anything valuable to be brought out, ya da ya da." Then his eyes harden, "and if any of you vermin try to steal any of it, then it's twenty lashes!"

She only rolls her eyes – being threatened is hardly a big affair any more. Why, it hasn't been even an hour since she was last threatened. One grows desensitised to this sort of stuff, you know? Still, she gets to work as best she can. The ship is large, well – built and beautifully maintained. Well . . . other than it having crashed, but that's a minor problem. Rachel stays out of the way of the other workers, finding herself in the main control room.

"I wonder who you belong to," she says aloud, stroking the battered console. No doubt the poor captain is now one of Karosky's prisoners . . . just like her. She gives a sorrowful sigh; she wouldn't wish this life on anyone.

Still, the ship offers solace from the growing humidity, and she supposes this is better than rotting away in some cell.

The ship intrigues her; with its advanced AI and selenechrome hardware, she finds herself no longer looking for anything salvageable but admiring the craftsmanship. Even with such a crash, having clearly approached the surface at a ridiculous speed, the majority of it remains intact. Just a few damaged motors and the control connection gone, though it's not like it's hard to override that.

Something else prods at her mind, coaxing out more questions. "Where did you come from?" She wonders, "You're not from the outer rim." This ship belong to something with status or money . . . or both.

Unable to help herself, she lowers herself to the captain's chair and wishes she could just fly this thing out of here. A smile dares to climb on her lips, for all of a few seconds.

"Hurry up in there!"

She jumps as Zimio bangs on the door, words harsh. Her shoulders slump in an instant, the nineteen year old slinking from her dreams to carry on inspecting the ship. Then, another noise, echoing in the metal work beneath her. Rachel's forehead scrunches together, before she opens the hatch behind the driver's chair.

She peers inside, "hello?"

To her surprise, a BB – 8 unit peers back at her, its outer casing dented by what she presumes was the crash landing. Upon spotting her, it beeps frantically and shoots a spark of electricity her way. "Hey, hey!" She jumps up, "I'm not going to hurt you." Rachel's voice lowers, eyes sincere, "How did you end up down there?"

It stares up in silence then, as though trying to figure her out. She frowns, shifting unsurely under the scrutiny of the droid. "Here," Rachel stares softly, lifting him onto the deck with a slight groan. The BB – 8 moves around the room, searching. "What are you looking for?"

It beeps in response, rolling back toward her.

"Your master?" she asks, "where is he now?"

More frantically the unit replies now, whizzing around the room as it recalls the event. As she suspected, the passengers on board have been taken prisoner by her own captor, and they'd stored him away to keep him safe. She pauses at the next few noises it gives. "You?" Her brow rises, "you want to help them? Look, you don't know Karofsky, there is no way that you're going to get in there without being captured yourself. Do you know how valuable droids are around these parts?"

It shakes its head.

"Well, your plan isn't going to work. So I suggest you escape to town and find a new owner there." She admits the next part with a heavy sadness, "no one escapes from Karofsky."

BB – 8 refuses to accept her answer, nudging itself into her leg as it responds. "You think I can help?" It gives an affirmative beep. "Well, I can't," she hisses. "If I knew how to escape I wouldn't be here, would I? I'd be somewhere else in the galaxy that isn't this swamp wasteland!" The unit almost becomes annoyed with her, which seems baffling to Rachel. It's rare that she gets to see such advanced droids.

"No!" She insists, "I'm not helping. You don't think I've got my own problems?" It rears up ready to barge into her again.

"No, stop it. Ow."

She watches it with agitation, lifting her foot to kick the droid only to find out that her foot is no match for its casing. "Ow, ow, ow, why did I think that would be a good idea?" She laments to herself.

A series of beeps follows that she swears are laughing. "Why you little –"

"Berry." She jumps as another guards enters the control room, staring at her in confusion. "What the hell is all that noise?" His glare puts her in her place, the girl taking a step backwards.

"It was the droid!" she points to the BB – 8, before quickly realizing her mistake. Okay, the droid is a little frustrating, but she doesn't want Karofsky of all people to have it. But when she peers down it's returned to low power, no signs of life from the little unit. She plays along, wondering how much she's going to regret this. "It – it . . . it got damaged – in the landing! Photoreceptor is shot and tracking software down." He gives her an unimpressed look, urging her to get on with it. Kneeling beside it, she bangs against its motor, wincing a little as it sends a minor shock of electricity around its circumference. Definitely on purpose. "Solid droid though," she continues, "it just needs some parts replacing if I could take it up to the workshop?"

He seems to consider this for a moment, peering back between her and the droid, until he sighs. "You better not be wrong about this, kid. One more mistake and Karofsky ain't gonna be happy with you."

She frowns, not having needed the reminder.

The guard glances around the room, looking lost among it. "Come on, let's get off this galactic garbage, and bring the droid with you."

"Yes sir!" she gives a mock salute, only for him to glower her way. Rachel peers away awkwardly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. He takes off quickly, allowing a few seconds for BB – 8 to power up once more, beeping away again. She glares at it, feeling that today is not going to be easy. "You can thank me later, first I've got to figure out how to get you to your captain."


"Let us out of here!" Finn kicks at the door, ignoring the pain blazing through his foot. Defeated, her hops back over to the wall not moments later and groans, "I can't take this anymore."

"Well if you stopped trying to break your foot," Puck deadpans from the corner. He continues to work his way through the wiring to the cell door, cursing every time he shocks himself.

He is quick to quip back, "You know what I mean." He stares through the tiny cubby hole into the dark chamber which teems with the filth of society. Crooks and criminals all gather, jeering away in the masses. Finn's eyes move over to their leader, a well built, arrogant man by the name of Karofsky. He's heard of him, but only the warning stories that Burt had laid upon whoever would listen. Finn stares with disgust as Karofsky watches two droids fight to the death, laughing each time one jolts away in an attempt to escape.

Once more, he bangs the door in frustration, mind drifting back to his own BB – 8 unit. He just hopes that the clever little droid can figure out a way to help them, even if it's just relaying a message back home. He'd take Burt yelling at him any day over being trapped in this desolate cell.

Then his eyes catch something, a flash of orange and white in the far distance. It looks an awful lot like the droid he'd just been thinking about, only his heart sinks when he realizes it's showing no sign of life, carried in the arms of a short brunette.

"Puck!" he chokes out, "they have BB – 8!" Finn narrows his eyes, "or . . . I think it's mine. It looks like it. Ah crap, what are we gonna do now?"

"Be quiet scum!"

Finn jumps back as a scaly arm slams against the door, the awful clanging reverberating around his ears. A snarl appears on his face, the man sick of being treated so lowly. The last twenty four hours have most definitely sucked.

Determination floods his face, "Puck, you better get us out of here. I don't care if I have to fight ever piece of crap on this planet to get back to the falcon, I need to get BB – 8.

"I'm working on it," Puck mutters, a bunch of multicolored wires hanging from his mouth. "This ship is a lot different to anything back home." He stares in bewilderment, "nothing but cheap fix ups and crappy work. We'll be lucky if I can do this in a few hours."

He sighs, "great."

Moving to peer through the door again, he frowns as there appears to be no sight of his droid any more. His heart sinks, and he yearns more than anything for his BB – 8 is still safely tucked inside the falcon and not about to befall the same fate of these poor droids before him.


"What are you talking about?" Rachel stares to the droid incredulously, "I can't just walk up to the cell and let him out. I will be killed!" She turns away from BB – 8, huffing loudly as she does to show her disapproval; this droid is almost as stubborn as her, and that's some feat. It's silent in the work shop, most other prisoners having been taken back to the ship to bring it to Karofsky's collection. With valuable ships dropping from the sky more and more these days, she knows that it'll be fixed to its former glory in no time, though captainless if she can't figure out a plan.

Grabbing her tools, she returns to BB – 8, kneeling on the floor before him.

Rachel sighs as he stares up at her. "We're not going to get anything done with you damaged," she says, opening his front panel. Inside, she can see a couple of the wires fried from a system's overload. The crash landing may have tested this little droid all too much.

Not too far away, she can hear the fanatic screams and shouts of those watching one of Karfosky's famous fights. It's barbaric, she thinks, to put two innocent beings against one another. But barbaric is definitely a word she'd attribute to her captor. "You have taken quite a beating," Rachel clips away the broken wires, "how did you end up landing here anyway?"

BB – 8 explains the story, too fast for her to keep up with, though she gets most of it.

"Someone was shooting at you?" The droid beeps in affirmation.

Rachel's brow scrunch together, unsurely. "But why would someone do that? As she speaks, she pulls her malleator out, returning the outer casing to its former smoothness.

"Hmm," she agrees to the droid's response, "there are a lot of strange things going on lately. People disappearing, attacks on ships . . . planets." Rachel pauses, her mind lost in another world for a few moments, "I have a bad feeling that whoever attacked your ship is part of something bigger."

Her frown softens then, Rachel trying to cast her thoughts in a more positive direction. "Alright, you should be all set now, I even increased your power efficiency by 22 per cent," Rachel proudly announces.

The droid moves freely, its orange markings rolling dizzily around the room. It seems impressed with the upgrade, quickly beeping back at her.

"No problem," she smiles, "it's my job, so . . ." Rachel's face falls again at the mention of that, the girl quickly trying to busy herself. She peers through the door, checking that the hallway is clear before she blockades it with one of the desks. The girl prays that no one tries to get in or she can kiss goodbye to the relative freedom she has now.

"BB – 8," she whispers, "this way." She leads the droid further into the depths of spare parts and broken droids. Rachel stealthily shifts the junk out of the way, turning to BB – 8 with a grin, "time to make a plan." Up ahead, an abandoned control panel calls to them, enticing the pair with the door hanging off one hinge.

"Do you think you can reroute power to this?"

Exposing its metal arm, BB – 8 connects with the hardframe. She watches as it scans the codes, projecting them against the scratched, metal walls for her to see. "There," Rachel points to the cell blocks, "that's where they'll be. New prisoners are normally sent to the vaults, so try them."

She gasps as the droid suggests something far more risky.

"All of the doors? Are you crazy?"

It gives an indignant noise.

"Wait – wait," Rachel gives a moment to think, "If we open them all, then there'll be a riot. Karofsky can't control all of the prisoners. Oh, BB – 8, you're a genius!" She inches closer, licking her lips in anticipation. A possibility suddenly looms over her, "but what if they get hurt in all the chaos?"

Her words come too late as she hears one final and very forceful click, and sure enough the shouts that suddenly echo around the entire ship.


Puck stares ahead with confusion as he figures out where to earth the wires to. He's really had enough of this stupid door and if it would just open that would be great.

Bang, bang.

He grits his teeth as Finn kicks the walls, again. "Hudson!" he growls, a combination of frustration, hunger and tiredness bringing out the worst in him. "Stop it."

Finn knows better than to bite back. Last time he ended up getting a spanner thrown at his head, and he still has the scar to prove it. "How are we looking?" his friend tries, hopefully.

"This thing is crap!" Puck curses, slamming his fist against it. "All fucking hacked up by some space cowboy who thinks he can wire a hardrive. I think a five year old could do a better job." He rolls his stiff neck, "the only impressive thing is that there is no way to override the controls.

"Yeah," Finn clenche his teeth together. "Real impressive."

"You're not helping."

"I just want to be out of this cell!"

He stands up, joints painfully stiff from being glued to the same spot for hours. Puck feels lightheaded as the blood recirculates his body, but that doesn't stop him from wearing a scowl. "And you don't think I do?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Puck throws his hands in the air, eyes narrowing toward his best friend. "I don't have the right shit to jimmy the controls, you're whining like a little baby and we're stuck on some god forsaken planet because some idiot sent a missile after us!"

Finn seems to be wearing the anger that he's feeling. And for a second Puck thinks Finn might actually punch him, but he doesn't. Instead, he places on well aimed kick toward the hacked wires and controls, face scrunching up in pain as his foot lands on the strong selenium. "Ahh, fuck!"

But Puck couldn't care less right now. "Finn," he reaches for him, eyes staring out in amazement and bewilderment.

"What?"

". . . The door is open."

His friend spins in an instant. "The door is wha –"

"Let's get outta here." He grabs hold of him tightly, dragging his lanky friend with all the strength he has (Finn is hard to lug around, okay) and rushing out in the stream of escaping prisoners. "What do we do? What do we do?" But when he spins, he finds Finn running in the opposite direction of everyone else. "Finn, what the hell are you doing?"

"They had my droid!" he shouts from afar.

"Your droid?"

He runs full pelt after him.

"Yes," Finn punctuates, a new lease of life in him.

"If you get me killed for a droid –"

"It's not just any droid."

Puck groans; why does he have to be friends with Mr fucking noble?

So they run, past fleeing prisoners, past the remnants of broken droids, and past a shit loads of guards who try to throw in a few punches. They dodge, just about, but Puck still follows with reluctance. As he's running, he suddenly spots something, eyes widening in delight. "Finn, Finn."

"What?"

"It's the falcon, it's here."

This slows down the boy, who appears suddenly conflicted.

Puck makes the decision for him. "You go get BB – 8, I'll get her ready, okay?" With that, he runs toward the ship, and the only chance they have of escaping. He just hopes that Finn makes it back to him, too.


Carole stares out of the window, staring as crafts fly this way and that. She tries to distract herself with the scenery, yet nothing works. In the end, she gives out a wistful sigh and moves toward her mug.

Nursing the warm drink, she feels slightly better.

"I'm sure he's fine."

She glances up at the sight of her step son, smiling. He's wearing his training robe, hair perfectly coiffed and certainty in his eyes. "He's gone too far this time," she states, trying to sound convincing. If anything, she just wants her baby home.

Kurt arches his brow, "Carole, he's just young."

"I know, but taking one of Burt's ships? Especially the falcon." She lets out a puff of air, annoyance flooding her features, "I just don't know what to do with him anymore. Stealing, vandalism – he's not even sleeping properly these days. Just mumbles something about weird dreams."

"Oh, with the girl? And the island?"

She nods blankly. "I'm worried about him. He's getting out of control." She tries to ignore the frustration that she feels at the whole situation, at the rift being put between her and Burt, but mostly at how she's struggling to protect Finn.

Carole sighs, lowering herself to the nearest chair. Kurt follows, placing a soft hand on hers, "he'll come home, just like he always does."

"And then what? He just goes gallivanting off again." A groan follows, "I just don't know what to do with him."

"Finn loves you," he insists, "and he'll do anything for you, Carole. He's a momma's boy."

"Pfft, he's hardly a boy anymore." At six foot two, there's no denying that her little Finn is definitely a man.

Her step son smirks, "you and me both know he's still a boy at heart. Or, he wants to be." He nudges her side, "he just needs pushing on the right path. My dad actually was talking about some academy."

She bristles then, annoyance returning. "He is not going to be shipped off to some training academy just so we can be rid of a problem. He belongs here, with us. His family."

Kurt's face is grave, lips pursed together. "We'll just have to see how it pans out. I mean, I love my brother but if I had a dime every time he did something stupid I could buy half the galaxy."

Deflating even further, her frown deepens. She just hopes he hasn't gotten himself into too much trouble this time.


"BB – 8, stop going so fast," Rachel tries to pursue the small droid, but she's going as fast as her legs will allow her. She inwardly curses her small height. Adrenaline pumps through her veins, her head spinning as she comprehends what they've just done.

She can't stop to think about the consequences. They've got to find BB – 8's captain, and now.

Rachel watches with dashing hopes as the small droid surges ahead, leaving her in its dust. The reality of what she's allowed to happen is crashing around her, the chaos almost too much to take in. Everywhere she looks, fighting and shooting takes place, and she can practically feel the pain of all those caught in the crossfire.

"Hey!" She tries desperately again, "wait!"

The droid disappears around a corner and out of her sight, her heart sinking as she watches helplessly. Rachel's decision seems all the more worse when she runs into Zimio, the man working on rounding up any prisoners who dare cross his path. She stops dead in her tracks, eyes wide and pulse ringing in her ears. I'm not going back to being a prisoner, she thinks, gritting her teeth together.

"Berry." His voice is harsh, matching their desolate surroundings.

Rachel stands her ground.

He pauses, taking in her expression. "You had something do with this, didn't you?" Without a second's hesitation, he's gaining on her, blaster pointed toward the girl who instinctively dodges each shot. She impresses herself with her own level of co – ordination.

But it's not enough; he's advancing quickly and she fears she'll be herded with the rest of the recaptured prisoners. She rushes backwards, pulling over anything and everything to slow his advance.

"Come here, you little runt!"

She squeaks as a shot flies straight past her head, darkness staining the wall beside her. Pulling her hands away from protecting her head, she starts running again, but with the feel of him hot of her heels. Lungs panting with exertion and fuelled only on adrenaline, she flees toward Karofsky's junkyard. Maybe she can find something to escape in. Anything.

A hand finds her arm, grasping around it sharply. Rachel winces, her whole body forced into a painful stop as she stares, wide eyed and desperate at Zimio. "Let me go," she struggling, kicking her legs in a final attempt. When one just misses his crotch, he tightens his hold on her, attempting to push her into a nearby cell.

Thud

Rachel winces as a pipe swings around, meeting him square on the side of the head. His eyes roll backwards, whites stares at her has he falls to the floor and reveals her savior.

The man is breathless, holding the weapon as though he doesn't know where his actions came from. It tumbles to the ground when he spies her, eyes holding her in a gaze that she can't quite place. His mousy brown hair is tussled, matted with sweat and dirt, which too is swiped over his fair skin. A boyishly handsome face hides beneath, one which looks as lost as she feels. But there's something else, something awfully familiar.

She stares back, searching his face and waiting for words.

"You," he states, barely a whisper but she catches it.

Her lips break from a uniform line into a deep frown, forehead scrunched tightly.

There is little time to think as more trouble follows them, this time a white armored figure appearing from the darkness and pointing his menacing looking weapon toward the man. She reacts on instinct, reaching for the blaster from Zimio's hands and shooting freely. Her target stumbles, yet his march continues.

"We need to go," she says firmly, reaching out for him.

Just as he lifts his hand, they both pause when they hear the shrill beeps of BB – 8 who surges back toward them, most of the suited guards behind him.

"BB – 8!" They announce in unison, turning to each other in confusion.

No time to question, she thinks, beginning her run toward the nearest exit. "This way!" she announces, dodging as blasters take aim at them. To her surprise, the suited attackers seem not to care if prisoner or captor, and instead shoot at all in their way. Her mind spins in confusion.

Who are they?

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" the man asks, easily keeping up with her in long strides. She nods surely, skidding around a corner and smiling as sunlight streams into the exit calling to them.

The pair pant in turn as they run, gasping for air as they set foot on the planet's surface. The dry grass crunches beneath their feet as she leads him and BB – 8 toward Karofsky's junkyard. Hundreds of ships lay dormant, some snatched by escaping prisoners and others, of less value, lay abandoned.

"Wait," he stops her, suddenly spotting something in the distance, "this way."

"Where are you going?" she hisses back, turning to him with a look of scorn.

He promptly ignores it. "My friend and my ship are that way – I'm not leaving them behind."

Rachel's frown deepens, but the sudden appearance of their pursuers has her running alongside him. "Why are they shooting at us?" Aren't they the innocent ones?

"I keep asking myself that question lately," he grumbles, seeming to be running low on energy as they slow through the maze of ships. Her lungs painfully cry for her to stop, but she can't. She's only reminded of this fact as more blasts shoot over their heads.

"Finn, over here!"

She peers up at the sight of another man, this time shorter, tanned. His face seems more matured than the other's, dark eyes and slight lines carved into his skin. Still, he wears the same expression of terror that they wear. Her eyes rise the height of the ship, heart skipping as she recognises it as the one from this morning.

"You're the captain from the ship landing?" she questions, for a moment forgetting that they are being hunted.

He spins around, face twisted in confusion. "What?"

"This ship," Rachel states, "it belongs to you."

Finn nods, then hesitates, "well . . . not exactly. But if you don't hurry up it's not gonna be ours for long." With that, he takes the final few strides toward the door, the metal creaking up his and the other man's weight. Rachel makes it too, BB – 8 whizzing in beside her.

"Who the fuck is this?"

Rachel suddenly finds herself the sole piece of attention and while she normally thrives under it, she feels uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

"Just start the ship," Finn rushes past the man and toward the control room. She has no choice but to follow, shadowing the familiar steps she had taken before. The pair before her jump into action, a well-rehearsed play of switches and levers. Rachel watches, hands clung onto the nearest surface as the ship judders into action, lifting from the dusty surface of the planet.

Still, she can hear the attack continue – they're still being shot at. She just hopes that the ship can withstand more damage while they take off . . . which doesn't seem to be happening yet. Rachel frowns, focussing away from her thoughts to see the two struggling.

"What's wrong?" she shouts; the one on the left winces, as though he'd forgotten she was there.

Her heart beats wildly as the ships heavily thuds to the ground once more.

Finn frowns, "something is wrong with the thrusters." He frantically tries to reroute the problem, though comes up short.

"They were damaged in the crash," she states, "Karofsky probably replaced them with a 43A model which means that you have to ease her into it. You can't just go full power."

The two turn, and only stare.

She shifts uncomfortably.

"How do you know what he did to it?" The dark haired one asks.

"I –"

"And why would I trust you?" he continues, "I don't even know you."

But when he turns to Finn, the man has already turned around and began tapping away at the control panel. "You with me, or what?" he asks, pausing.

He earns a glare, then, "yeah, yeah. We'll do it her way then."

Rachel's frown deepens, eyes narrowing. Neither catch it.

The ship is still taking a lot of fire, a noisy affair that has her heart beating out of her chest. She turns to BB – 8, who unsteadily moves around the control room as they slowly start rising in the air. This time, they make it higher, and she hears the tell-tale whirling of the engines.

Finn pulls back on the control, aiming them for the atmosphere. "Hey, kid," he turns to her, giving a lopsided smile that screams familiarity, "you might wanna hold onto something."

She takes his advice, moving over to the nearest seat and gripping on for dear life. Is now the best time to tell them that she's never actually been off this planet? Her stomach wobbles uncertainly at the movement of the ship, growing worse as their speed increases.

"Making a jump to lightspeed."

"Right," Finn agrees, "let's get off this god forsaken planet."

She would be offended, but she pretty much agrees with them. This is her escape from this planet, too. Into a world unknown, yet one that is calling out to her for something more. She can feel that she has a greater purpose somewhere. Just . . . where?


Finn's mind is not on piloting.

It is currently a big pot of swirling confusion that he can't seem to shift. He peers back to where the girl is holding on for dear life, BB – 8 clutched onto the walls beside her, and then returns his gaze ahead.

They seem to have lost their pursuers, though that's the least of his worries. And yeah, Burt is going to kill him for causing so much damage to the falcon but he sort of hopes he's more relieved that he and Finn are alive. They could still be rotting away in that cell.

"So?"

He spins around to face Puck.

"What?" He blinks.

Puck doesn't believe his innocence, eyes leading Finn to the girl. Now that the ship has slowed into a steady rhythm, she is detaching herself from the seat, face slightly green. He sighs, "Some guy was trying to hurt her. I couldn't leave her behind."

"She knows about Karofsky," he hisses, leaning in closer, "about what he did to the ship – what if she's one of his lowlifes and we're headed into a trap?"

"Dude, come on."

"I'm being serious!"

Finn is shaking his head before he can even register, "nah, I don't think so. She was being chased by those people too." He casts his mind back to seeing her, his troubling realization hitting him once again. That thought is pushed away quickly, to be dealt with later, "plus she knew BB – 8, and he doesn't trust people easily."

Though he gives a scoff, Puck doesn't seem to argue with that.

"If you're talking about me, I'd at least like to be allowed in the conversation," a stern voice suddenly sounds behind them, causing both of them to jump out of their skin. They turn, finding the girl with her arms crossed and face wound into a look of annoyance.

Finn has the decency to look apologetic. Puck does not.

"We're just wondering how trustworthy you are," he shrugs.

"You are," Finn corrects.

"I saved your lives," she announces, outraged. Her arm cross haughtily over her chest, "if it wasn't for me, you'd still be rotting in that cell."

"Excuse me now?"

He nudges Puck, a silent message for him to drop the damn attitude.

She groans, turning to BB – 8. "I found your droid in your ship – they were going to use him for parts but I brought him back to Karofsky's ship and together we unlocked the doors." Her gaze averts elsewhere, pride suddenly swelling in her face, "and I don't want to blow my own horn, but I also improved systems operations on him, so you're welcome."

Finn only stares, wondering how she'd changed emotions so quickly.

He turns to his droid, "is that true, bud?"

BB – 8 nods his head, rolling back and forth between him and the girl eagerly. He lets out a sigh, "she saved you?"

It beeps once more.

When he turns back to the girl, she's beaming toward him. "Now," she starts, "I never wanted to intrude, but it looks like we're in a rather prickly situation. Fugitives, fleeing galatic criminals together. You two strapping young men and me, the ingénue on her first interplanetary trip." Finn's pretty sure that only half of those are real words.

"You're never flown before?!" Puck asks in shock.

She frowns slightly, though shakes off his disbelief. "I've been rather . . . engaged in the past few years." After a drawn out pause a smile springs back to her lips, "but I feel like now is the perfect time to start anew." She throws her hand out in greeting, "I'm Rachel Berry."

"Noah Puckerman," Puck slowly strides from his seat, ignoring her gestures and sauntering past her, "but call me Puck." He turns back to Finn, "I'm going to check the thermal vindicators. Don't wait up." They both watch as the door closes behind him, BB – 8 following and leaving just him with Rachel.

He swallows nervously.

"Thank you," he starts, "for getting us out of there. I don't know what we would have done if you didn't."

"It's okay – you weren't the only one escaping." Her chocolate eyes look anywhere but at him.

"You?"

She looks down, wringing her hands together. "I've been there five years. I tried stealing a ship and then . . . you know."

It hadn't even occurred to him that she too were a prisoner, though not as he takes in her appearance it makes all the more sense. Her clothes are ripped, dirty; the same dark grey that the rest of the ship was. With a heavy heart, he notices the faded bruises and cuts that lay over her olive skin.

Rachel shifts slightly under his gaze, then clears her throat. "So, Finn, right?"

He smiles, "yeah."

She smiles, too. "Alright Finn, what's the plan now?"

"Get the hell out of this system and go home," he starts, turning backing to face the controls. It's on autopilot for home, yet he still checks everything is in order. He fills with surprise as she sits herself in Puck's chair, staring out to space in awe. "Not be killed by some random bunch of criminals," he laughs wryly, "and um, probably get in a ridiculous amount of trouble for stealing the falcon."

"The falcon?" she tilts her head in confusion.

"The millennium falcon," he says, "she's the ship."

Rachel smiles unsurely. "She's a she?"

"Of course she is!"

"Wait, you stole her?"

He waves off any concerns, correcting his words. "Borrowed. From my step dad – er, without permission." He then shrugs, "but don't worry, it's not like it's the first time.

That doesn't seem to fill her with confidence.

"And um," she worries her plump lower lip, "what do you think is going to happen to me?"

He frowns, suddenly remembering that the only home she's ever had is becoming farther and farther away. "My step dad works for the senate," he assures her, "nothing bad will happen to you. Like you said, new start."

Rachel nods, suddenly falling into silence. It remains like that for a while, and every so often she feels her eyes on him. She appears as though she's pondering something.

He is too. Deeply, deeply pondering.

Today has been a whirlwind adventure, greater than anything he's ever done. The icing on the cake is that he's met the girl that he dreams about, quite literally. And he has no idea what the hell that means for him.


Pretty excited for this one, not gonna lie :D Please review guys!