"That's the last of the crates," Matthias said, dusting off his hands as he descended the cargo ramp. "Nearly all the supplies should be still available if the cargo pilots manage to fly them off during the battle. The Rebellion might survive this."
"And even if we don't, and the Death Star does fire," Nina said slowly, "there are other Rebel cells. Smaller ones - much smaller; it probably wasn't wise, in hindsight, to have so many of our soldiers at one base - but they exist. They banded together once; they'll do so again. The Rebellion will survive this." Her dark green eyes met Matthias's. "As long as there are decent people in the world, the Rebellion survives."
Matthias found he didn't have anything to say in response to that. He just nodded, and pressed his lips together.
"Can I ask you something?" Nina said abruptly. Matthias shrugged. "Why did you stay?"
He blinked, startled.
"I heard that the Barrel left the system five minutes ago," she went on. "You could've gone with them. Why did you decide to stay?"
Matthias could tell her the truth that had become a lie, that he had sworn to protect Wylan until his dying breath, and he was only here because of him. But that wasn't the whole truth.
The whole truth was: "I joined the Rebellion with Wylan - for Wylan. I stayed for me." He pressed his fist to his heart. "I stayed for you and Inej, who risk your lives daily for a dream more distant than the stars in the sky. I stayed because if I ran now, the way I ran from Mandalore. . ." He trailed off. "I'd never be able to live with myself.
"I stayed because the Empire is evil." He was quiet for a moment, then added, "I'm just glad I can finally see it."
He looked at Nina, and though she may be about to die, though her best friend was participating in a death run against the battle station, though it was too hot and too humid and too sweaty on Yavin IV, she was smiling.
Though leaving the atmosphere of Yavin IV did little to the internal conditions of the X-wing, Inej felt something change when they did so. There was no going back now.
The shipboard comm crackled to life. "All wings, report in," the woman from earlier - the commander of the squadron - ordered.
"Red Ten, standing by."
"Red Seven, standing by."
"Red Five, standing by," Inej said aloud, flicking a few switches on the controls more for the hell of it than anything else. She hadn't flown one of these things in so long. . .
"Lock S-foils in attack position," came the next order, just as the ship shuddered. "We're passing through its gravitational field; hold your positions."
Then they were emerging from around Yavin's red body, and Inej heard the cacophony of gasps resonate over the comm.
"Look at the size of that thing!" one pilot breathed out. Inej ignored the berating tone of Red Leader and tried to focus on calming her own heart rate.
You're not on-planet, powerless. Not anymore.
She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes briefly.
You have the power to destroy it, this time.
She opened her eyes again; the long, slow exhale that accompanied it released the tension in her muscles and relaxed her grips on the control. She heard Jesper's voice in her head: Loosen your grips on the controls; it's just going to make it harder for you to move quickly and tire you out prematurely.
Jesper, who'd left them all behind.
She didn't want to think about how much that stung.
She'd prove them wrong. She'd prove that they weren't going to die, that it wasn't a suicide mission, that the Death Star wasn't invulnerable and that one day, one day, the Empire would get what was coming to it-
She took another deep breath.
You have the power to do this.
So do it.
"Heading for the target shaft now," the commander of Gold Squadron said. "But we won't get far if someone doesn't take out those turrets."
Red Leader, replied with, "Copy that, Gold Leader. Targeting the turrets now." A breath then, "Red Squadron, attack formation. Draw their fire and aim for the turrets."
There was a chorus of affirmatives, then the squadron swooped down to the surface of the battle station and the barrage of fire began.
Inej couldn't help herself: she cussed with every swear word she knew, in every language she knew, as she dodged the green lasers shooting for her fighter. Green lasers the precise shape and colour of the turbolaser she was dreading, like each turret was its own miniature Death Star. . .
Inej didn't think she would ever see a day where what she saw on Eadu and Jedha didn't haunt her every waking thought.
But today, that just made it easier to point and shoot.
Taking out a turret wasn't taking out a battle station, she knew, but when she watched one explode under her fire, it definitely felt as good.
Her euphoria was culled by a scream over the comms.
"I'm hit!" a panicked voice shouted. "I can't-"
"Stay on target, Red Eleven," came the order.
"I can't-"
"Stay on target. . ."
A ship exploded off Inej's right flank. The screaming went silent as the comms hissed with static.
Inej felt the blood drain from her face.
This is it.
For the first time, she believed what Kaz had said.
I might die up here.
Would she have done it differently? She had to wonder. If she'd known that she was without a doubt going to die, would she have still gone up, in her last desperate attempt to succeed in what she'd failed at before?
Inej knew the answer to that. There had never been any other answer.
Yes.
One hundred times, yes.
The next turret, and the next, and the next. They all exploded in a shower of sparks. She didn't stop firing.
She would have. She would have still done this.
Sometimes I want to leave the Rebellion, she'd told Kaz. It was true.
But she didn't. For all this time, she'd stuck with it. She refused to leave the dream behind.
This was why.
More screams, from thrice as many pilots now, and blood thrummed just below her skin - she could feel her pulse in her palms, her fingertips, her neck - when they were suddenly silenced. With a shuddering voice Red Leader ordered them to cut off the attack and regroup.
Gold Squadron hadn't succeeded, Inej realised dimly. They'd all been obliterated.
"All wings, report in." There was a tension to the woman's voice; they'd lost so many, already. As awful as some of the Alliance's losses had been, they had never been this steep. Not in such a short time.
"Red Three, standing by."
"Red Five, standing by."
"Red Seven, standing by."
No one else answered. Inej heard the moment Red Leader realised it as well; she gave a grim sigh.
"Well then, Red Squadron." She tried for jovial, but it came out strained. Desperate. This was it. "Starting our own attack run now."
"Lady Koroleva," her aide said breathlessly, handing her a datapad, "the majority of the Rebel fighters have been destroyed, but four remain and our turrets are out of commission."
"We will have to destroy them ship-to-ship," she said, her mind already turning towards the thrill of flight and the feeling of life or death in her hands. "What is their heading?"
"The trench, my lady."
For cover? Or did they actually think they could make a difference against this battle station? What were the Rebels trying to achieve with this attack?
The armoured woman was suddenly brought up short by a fleeting thought she'd long believed irrelevant. Yul-Bayur - the designer of this battle station - had had a son. A son who'd been reported missing to the Star Destroyer in orbit over Eadu less than an hour before Alderaan's demise. And while this had been nothing new at the time - he'd apparently had a habit of attempting to break out of his quarters, before being dragged kicking and screaming back once caught - the timing was suspiciously convenient.
There had been a Rebel attack on the facility at that time - Koroleva herself had fought Zoya's half-trained padawan there. And Bo Yul-Bayur had been a mild Force-sensitive.
Was it possible his son was, too?
Was it possible the Jedi had sensed it?
Was it possible Kuwei Yul-Bo had survived the destruction of Eadu?
Yul-Bayur had hated the Empire, Koroleva remembered, quickening her step. Had hated it with a burning passion - was it possible he'd have built their weapon to be destructible?
And most important of all: Was it possible Kuwei Yul-Bo had informed the Rebels of whatever weakness his father had planted?
"Get all crews to their fighters," she ordered. It wasn't panic that fuelled her actions. It was urgency. Her silver cape flapped behind her as she walked, and she snarled as she said, "We will annihilate them."
These Rebel fighters would die.
They would die, and then Yavin IV would burn, and then Koroleva would hunt Kuwei Yul-Bo to the ends of the galaxy, until she was certain he was put down. Permanently. There would be no loose ends.
After all, she was nothing if not thorough.
"Red Five, you have incoming. TIEs at sector two."
"Thanks, Red Three," she gasped as she rolled, and then the Death Star was above her and-
The spluttering of static alerted her to the death of another comrade.
"Red Three? Red Three, come in."
Silence.
Inej pinched her lips together. Why does everyone have to die?
Was this the will of the Force?
How could it be?
How could the will of the Force be that the Empire won?
It didn't matter now. She gritted her teeth and kept going.
"This is Red Seven, I've got one on my tail-"
"I'm with you, Red Seven," she assured him, dodging her own pursuer and locking onto the TIE that had him in her sights. "Just one - more - moment. . ."
She pulled the trigger. The TIE veered off course, crashing into the side of the trench.
"This is Red Leader, starting my attack run now. Cover me." The comms switched off and Inej yanked the controls sharply to the right to avoid being pulverised.
The fighters came in hordes - there was nothing Inej could do but shoot, and shoot, and shoot. . . She dodged, then shot some more, then dodged again, until life narrowed to the view out of the viewport, the fighters in front of her, and the fighter that was as much a part of her as her own arms and legs.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't think-
But there came the exhaust vent, and Red Leader was nearing it, she was going to make the shot, and Inej was be damned before she let an Imperial shoot her off course before she made it-
Red Leader fired the shot.
"Did it go in?" Inej asked it at the same time High Command did, intruding on the comms for the first time since the battle commenced. They all waited with bated breath for the longed for explosion to come.
"Negative," they got instead. "It didn't go in."
"Karabast," Inej swore, but she had other worries right now; they was another TIE on her heels and she - couldn't - shake him-
"I'm on you, Red Five," Red Seven told her. "You're out of their sights." She let out the breath she'd been holding.
"Thanks, Red-"
She was cut short by a strangled cry.
"Red Seven?"
"I'm alright!" came the response. "My engine's been hit, it's out of control-"
Inej gave the suggestion without even thinking about it. "Get back to base, Red Seven."
It took a moment to register. "What? No!"
"You have to," she insisted through gritted teeth, veering her X-wing round to face the TIE pursuing her and blast them, "you're no use to us dead, and you can't fly reliably with a faulty engine."
"I'm with Red Five, Seven," Red Leader came in. "Get back to base. Someone has to survive today."
"But-"
"That's an order!"
Inej could practically feel the stubbornness and displeasure, but finally she saw the ship on her scopes turn round and fly back to Yavin IV.
"I guess it's just you and me now, Wraith," Red Leader said. Inej startled; she hadn't realised the woman knew who was flying with her.
"I guess so," she replied, squeezing the controls tighter.
"Restarting our attack run," the commander said, "and this is the last shot we'll get, so let's make it count."
"Affirmative, Red Leader."
"And by the way," she said, as they swerved round another destroyed turret, "if we're going to die together, call me Paja."
She had to smile at that. "Call me Inej."
"Well then, Inej," came the feigned cheerful voice, "let's make sure history remembers our ending as. . ."
Inej finished the sentence, something expanding to fill her chest. It seemed that when she was on the verge of death, never had she felt so alive. "Explosive." She took in a deep breath. "Let's make it explosive."
"You need to make the attack run," Paja said. "I'll cover you."
"Are you-"
"I'm sure, Inej. Go," and there was urgency in her voice now, the anxiety they both felt stretching her to breaking point, "now!"
Inej went.
She dived down low, so low that a lesser pilot might have collided with the floor of the trench by now. But Inej had been flying for as long as she could remember. She was no lesser pilot.
Behind her on the scopes she could see Paja ducking, diving, weaving, shooting - keeping those TIEs off her tail. They exploded easily but more and more kept coming, like relentless fireworks.
Until a TIE Advanced emerged out of the horde.
The first Inej was aware of it was Paja's string of fluent swearing as she dodged to avoid their fire. "Their shields are up," she hissed, "I can't-"
There was an oomph, and the sound was cut off.
"Paja?" Worry swelled in Inej's throat; she fought around the block to shout desperately into the comm, "Paja!"
Nothing came.
She was alone.
Everyone else up here was dead, and Red Seven had left, and Kaz and Jesper had left and Nina and Matthias and Wylan and Kuwei were on the moon behind her and they were going to die if she didn't blow this thing up herself and-
She was alone.
She blinked away tears, hissing out a breath between her teeth.
Focus. The TIE was still shooting at her. She kept low to avoid its targeting computer.
Think. Everyone was relying on her making this shot. This seemingly impossible shot.
Why was it impossible? Because the target was only two metres wide. But. . . no. Countless pilots had tried to take that shot today and failed. It wasn't just the size of the target that was the problem.
What had that guy in the debriefing said? The torpedo would have to take a ninety degree turn downwards. Only then would it go in.
It could turn ninety degrees downwards, she thought, or she could just fire straight down anyway.
The TIE Advanced - and by now, Inej had a pretty good idea who was flying that TIE Advanced - still had her under a barrage of fire. But she wasn't afraid.
In that moment, Inej forgave all transgressions Kaz and Jesper may or may not be guilty of by running away.
They hadn't been cowards. They had been survivors.
And Inej could accept that, if it meant she died with acceptance in her heart rather than resentment.
Because in order to do this, she'd have to time it perfectly. And while she did it, she'd be a sitting duck for Koroleva to shoot into oblivion.
Inej pressed her attack.
No going back now.
The exhaust vent was just coming up ahead, according to her targeting computer. She affirmed it, then switched it off. It wouldn't be able to keep up with what she was about to do, and she didn't need it anyway.
The comms crackled to life, High Command weighing in. General Kir-Bataar - Tamar - saying: ". . .Inej? You switched off your targeting computer. Is everything alright?"
"I'm fine," she said. It was only half a lie. "I'm alright."
"Are you-"
The target was in range. She switched off the comm, stopped evading the enemy's shots. Then, just like Jesper had taught her, she disengaged the front repulsors.
She was thrown heels over head, her nose dipping too close to the surface, and then- There.
She stared right down the maw of the exhaust vent.
She fired.
Her X-wing rocked, but it wasn't the explosion she wanted. The steering was off; she careened wildly through space, away from the Death Star, no control over her trajectory-
She was hit.
She could feel the heat of the electrical fire burning behind her; sweat stuck her hair to her forehead and drenched her back; her hands shuddered as she tried to move them.
She was going to die in this starfighter.
Well, if it's the will of the Force. . ., a part of her thought.
No, the rest of her thought.
In Inej's experience, very little was stronger than the will of the Force. But if anything was, then it was an organism's will to live.
Her will to live.
She mashed the eject button.
The motion that threw her into space stole the air from her lungs, even if she was wearing a mask and a pressurised suit. The X-wing behind her was rent in two by the blasts Koroleva hammered it with - she couldn't hear it, but she could see it, light playing through the darkness of space, even through her own eyelids, except. . .
An explosion her X-wing caused wouldn't be that bright.
And an explosion her X-wing caused wouldn't generate a large force either, and that was an immense force she felt shoving her away, flinging her, twisting and spinning, into the cold abyss of space-
She opened her eyes to see the TIE Advanced rocketing for her.
Revenge, she thought. The Death Star was gone - oh Force it was gone it was finally, finally, gone - and Koroleva wanted revenge. And Inej was sitting mynock, just floating here.
She refused to close her eyes as it approached. She would watch her death head on-
-as it got blasted out of the sky by a stray ship.
"What?" she said aloud into the secrecy of her helmet, but she knew in her bones who it was before she even glanced up.
The dilapidated hull of the Barrel had never been a more welcome sight.
It turned before her eyes, until she was facing the airlock and it was approaching her, gently scooping her up into its interior. She tumbled to the floor as artificial gravity kicked in then lay there, unmoving. Nothing quite seemed real.
"Inej?" She heard her name as if from very far away. "Inej!"
Then there were running footsteps, and there were hands on her shoulders rolling her over and- and Kaz was there. Kaz was there, terror in his eyes, tugging her helmet off and brushing her hair away from her face and clutching her biceps tightly.
Only later did she recall that he'd been chanting her name over and over and over, like a worried prayer.
Her eyes slid shut and she felt him tense, felt the breath lock inside his body. "Inej-"
"Kaz," she breathed. She couldn't manage anything louder, but it was apparently enough; he sagged, something that sounded suspiciously like a sob racking through him. She let her eyes slide open again and stared up at him in wonder, gaze tracing the contours of his face. "You- you came back."
His grip tightened, and he bowed his head.
"Of course I came back, Inej," he said, like this wasn't some irregularity, like this wasn't perhaps the sweetest thing she'd ever seen him do. "That's what we do, isn't it?" He voice rose higher, into hysterics; his grip on her tightened. "We come back for each other."
She bit her lip. She wanted to cry - but why, she couldn't tell. Stress? Trauma? Everything she'd always dreamed could be between her and Kaz but she'd never had the courage to pursue?
"Yes," she forced out. She was feeling lightheaded - the world spun, and spun some more. "We. . . come. . . back. . ."
The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was his panicked shouts.
.
End of Part I
.
So, that's Part I of this story finished, and I'm sorry to say it might be a while before Part II is ready to be posted. I've found, while writing this story, that it only really works when I've written ahead by about 10,000 words, so I can go back and fix plot holes before I post, rather than having to retcon them later. That being said, I hope I can continue posting within the month, but I can't promise to have enough written out by then.
Feel free to nag me if I'm taking too long to post; the last time I put something on a brief hiatus it was my TOG story Long Lost Lives and I never returned to that. But it's the most motivational thing in the world, knowing that someone wants to keep reading enough to actively nag me to keep writing.
Thank you for reading so far, and I hope to be back again in a few weeks!