Author's note: Wow, has it really been five months since the last chapter upload?! Work etc. has been very time-consuming lately, but I kept adding to the chapter draft bit by bit. Now it's here! It's somewhat longer than previous chapters, mainly because it involves two of the important action sequences in the story. As ever, I hope you enjoy!
Several long, awkward seconds passed, yet the young brunette's outstretched hand and unnervingly broad grin showed no sign of wavering. Just as Yaqeel's amber blade had powered down, Rey spoke again, her voice trembling with eagerness and trepidation alike as she lowered her head and shoulders into her best attempt at a bow.
"I-I mean, it's an honour to meet you, Master Jedi."
Great, the old Bothan sighed inwardly. A Jedi enthusiast. Just what I needed!
Carefully treading around the splintered furniture and unconscious bodies that now littered the cantina floor, Yaqeel tried her best to be polite but direct to the excited youngster. "Thank you for your assistance, but I really must be on my way. Our little scuffle's no doubt attracted some unwanted attention and the last thing you want is to be seen with me when they get here."
"But Master Jedi!" Rey continued as Yaqeel hurried out into the glaring Jakku sun, refusing to let the Bothan get more than a couple of metres away from her and speaking so quickly that Yaqeel could barely keep up. "Surely, I could still help you somehow? I-I'm not the best reader or writer, but I can pick things up quickly and you never know when you might need a personal assistant! I'm also pretty good with machines – maybe you could do with a driver? Or…or a mechanic? I know you probably need to check if I'm symbiote-compatible, but there's plenty I can do even if I'm not!"
'Symbiote-compatible'? Yaqeelbriefly wondered before replying. "Look, I appreciate that you're trying to make yourself useful, but I'm in the middle of an important and dangerous mission! I can't just start picking up random civilia-"
Before the Jedi could finish, a crimson bolt streaked past, missing the pair by inches and blowing a hole clean through the cantina wall.
"Get behind me!" Yaqeel yelled as her lightsaber snap-hissed back to life, the brilliant blade swishing through the air to deflect the building stream of blasterfire. Along the dusty street, she and Rey could make out several pairs and trios of shooters coming straight for them, wrapped from head to toe in desert garb. There was no doubt about it: the First Order agents had called for reinforcements. And they're blocking the way to my ship! Yaqeel realised with a grimace.
"This way – I've got a speeder!" Rey shouted over the noise as she tried her best to keep the Jedi Master's blade between herself and the oncoming blaster bolts. "There's room for two!"
As much as Yaqeel hated the prospect of getting this civilian even more involved in life-threatening Jedi business, the Bothan knew she had little choice but to accept the girl's help. Still batting away the incoming bolts, Yaqeel followed Rey into a low run around the corner of the cantina.
Just ahead of the Jedi Master, Rey leapt onto a curious contraption. It had a somewhat long and boxy main section, coloured with rust. Presumably, that was where the engine was housed. Jutting out of the rear was what appeared to be a pair of thrust nozzles, vertically arranged with a small, metal plate at either side that was the same colour as the main body. On the top nozzle sat the driver's seat, where Rey was frantically starting up the engine. Evidently the young human had been somewhat exaggerating when she claimed that there was 'room for two', but with the small mob of shooters rapidly gaining on the pair, Yaqeel was in no position to insist on finding a more spacious mode of transport. Still, Yaqeel mused as she scrambled aboard the makeshift speeder, barely squeezing into the space on the seat behind Rey, if she built a working speeder out of scrap, then she wasn't lying when she said she was 'pretty good with machines'!
As soon as they were in place, the twin turbojets below them roared into life. "Hang on!" Rey shouted over the din of the turbines and approaching blasterfire. "This'll be a bumpy ride!"
"I think I'd figured that out already, but good advice!" Yaqeel responded while clinging to the girl for dear life. The ramshackle buildings of Niima Outpost zipped by as the small, levitating vehicle picked up speed, kicking up sand in its wake. Just as Rey turned the next corner, something small and fast entered the rightmost edge of Yaqeel's vision. A quick turn of the head gave her all the confirmation she needed. "They've got speeder bikes!"
"I see them!" Rey yelled back as she steered the hurtling craft towards the Niima Outpost limits, taking pains not to hit the handful of other vehicles dotting the dusty road. "Don't worry! I know just where to lose them!"
With a twist of Rey's hand, the makeshift speeder jolted forward. All over her body, Yaqeel felt the desert air whipping through her fur. Carefully turning her head once more, the Jedi Master could make out five speeder bikes hot on their heels. Attached to each hovering, one-person craft was a sidecar where a First Order fighter sat with a heavy blaster carbine. Moments later, red bolts were filling the air around Rey's speeder, edging closer with each passing second.
"They're still gaining on us!" Yaqeel shouted over the roaring engine. By now their surroundings had shifted to the dunes and scrapheaps of the Jakku desert. Here and there, the incoming blaster shots left burn marks in the sand. With a speed and grace that surprised the old Jedi, Rey weaved the speeder through the growing heaps of sand and scrap metal, keeping as many of them between the pair and their pursuers as possible. Already the bikes were struggling to dodge the oncoming obstacles. More bursts of blasterfire spat from the sidecar gunners, but without a clear line of sight, the bolts thudded harmlessly into the burned-out chassis and other pieces of junk that whizzed past the duo.
Keeping her left arm tight around Rey's torso and her legs clamped firmly on the speeder seat, Yaqeel stretched her right hand towards the ground beneath them. Reaching into the Force, she focussed its energies into her open palm before pushing them downwards, forming a constant, telekinetic stream. A thick cloud of sandy dust billowed out from under the speeder and right into the path of their pursuers. The lead pair of bikers desperately tried to move towards its edges, but it was too late. The speeder bikes hurtled straight into the dust cloud, blinding them completely. Seconds later, a loud crash rang through the desert air. Though a lifetime of Jedi ethics had taught her to treat violence as a last resort, Yaqeel could not help but chuckle at the sight of the two thrown drivers careening out of the cloud and smashing face-first into a sand dune.
The moment was short lived. Already the three remaining bikes had darted their way through the dissipating dust, narrowly avoiding the scrap piles that had downed their blinded comrades. Bit by bit, they closed the gap, blasterfire edging perilously near the speeder.
"They're gaining again!" yelled Yaqeel.
Rey's eyes widened as a scarlet bolt missed her head by inches. Sharply pulling the speeder around a corner to start heading back towards Niima Outpost, she doubled her efforts to lose their pursuers among the wrecks and junk heaps, but for all her weaving and dodging, the speeder-bikers stuck to them like insects on a carcass. Worse still, the paths between the piles of scrap and sand were narrowing steadily. Soon they would have little room to evade the mounting blasterfire. Just as Rey was frantically looking ahead for an escape route, something caught her eye: something that gave her a flash of inspiration.
With newfound resolve, Rey flattened herself upon the driver's seat and held down the accelerator as far as it would go. The speeder roared even louder as it hit full throttle.
"We're heading straight for that wreckage!" Yaqeel called with growing alarm, keeping her grip as tight as possible. "If we don't start turning now, we'll crash!"
"I've got an idea!" Rey shouted back over the bellowing engine. "Trust me on this!"
The landscape around them was a blur, yet Rey could feel every fraction of a second, timing even the slightest movements of her hands on the controls and of the trembling speeder below them. Dead ahead loomed the wreck – the section of some long-downed air- or spacecraft, half-buried in the sand with a large, thin wing jutting out vertically. Right behind, the three bikes had increased speed to keep pace with the fleeing pair, blaster nozzles still flashing furiously.
Still Rey held her course.
Just as Yaqeel shut her eyes to brace for impact, the young woman pulled the speeder to the left, missing the oncoming wreck by less than a metre.
Panic-stricken, the pursuing drivers scrambled to alter course. The lead one was not so fortunate. With almost no room left to steer, he could only bring his speeder bike far enough to the left for the jutting wing of the wreckage to narrowly miss the front of the vehicle…
…and slam straight into the sidecar coupling.
With no steering system of its own, the sidecar hurtled through the air before smashing into the ground. Robbed of its gunner, the speeder bike wobbled for several seconds before trying to fall back, only to find the trail between the dunes and junk piles so narrow that it could not let the rear bikes overtake, blocking its comrades' line of fire.
"A little close for my liking," Yaqeel remarked through a grin. "But I can't argue with the results!"
Still, the pair were far from out of trouble. Already the scrap heaps were spreading out again. Soon their pursuers would have the duo in their blaster sights once more.
Looking ahead to where the furthest edges of the scrapyard bled into the outskirts of Niima Outpost, inspiration struck the Jedi. "Can you take us through those ships coming up on the right?"
"On it!"
Revving a new burst of life into her speeder, Rey shot straight for the ships Yaqeel had indicated. It was a row of disused vessels on the fringes of the Niima Outpost landing field, sitting on support struts as they awaited resale. Some had been the better wrecks hauled in from the desert, patched up until they were more or less spaceworthy again. Others had been sold or abandoned at the outpost by passing spacers for myriad reasons.
Just as the incoming blasterfire resumed, Rey manoeuvred the speeder beneath the hull of the first ship, darting between the support struts. Keeping as many of the sand-battered vessels between them and the approaching speeder bikes as possible, the makeshift vehicle zipped along the row.
Closing her eyes with deep, meditative breaths, Yaqeel reached through the Force once more. This time, she felt the tendrils of her mind stretching back to the first ship in the row, grasping the struts that kept it several metres up from the hot desert ground. With a clench of her fingers, she yanked the struts right out from under the vessel.
Her timing was true. With a metallic groan, the battered ship plummeted to the scorching sands beneath, straight into the path of the speeder bikes. The drivers frantically tried to brake or change course, but it was too late. With a deafening crash, the bikes collided with the hull, smashing them to pieces. Though Yaqeel was too focussed on getting herself and Rey to safety to sense the First Order fighters' deaths through the Force, she doubted there were any survivors.
With a melancholic sigh at the grim business a Jedi's life occasionally entailed, Yaqeel turned back to her impromptu driver, who had mercifully brought their vehicle to a much more tolerable speed. "I don't think we've got anyone else on our tail, but those militias that attacked us earlier must be still be around. Is there somewhere we could lie low while I think of how to get to my ship without catching their eye?"
In answer, Rey pulled the speeder into a gentle stop between two seemingly abandoned light freighters at the edge of the landing field, their derelict forms keeping the small craft out of sight. Regaining their breaths, the pair dismounted, keeping to the shadows as they peered across the spaceport for more First Order movement. Once she was sure there were no enemy operatives in sight, Yaqeel turned to the youthful scavenger. "You said your name was Rey, right? I must say – that was some impressive driving out there! Where did you learn how to handle a speeder like that?"
"Thank you, Master Jedi!" Rey replied, the nervous excitement creeping back into her voice. "To tell you the truth, I taught myself."
The answer took Yaqeel aback. "Really? You taught yourself how to do all that?"
"Oh yes! Well, at first I needed someone to show me the basics, but once I knew them and got more confident in the driver's seat, I'd just…" Rey gave an almost dreamlike sigh before continuing. "I'd just sort of…do what came naturally. It's hard to put into words – it's like I could…feel something pulling my hands on the controls. Like…like an instinct you always trust, even though you're not sure why you trust it."
Rey gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry, I'm just rambling now!"
For several seconds, Yaqeel looked thoughtfully. Mulling on Rey's words, her mind flashed back to all those terrifying, near-miss moments on the speeder where the young woman seemed to time each turn to the split second. At the cantina, Yaqeel had been too preoccupied with getting back to her ship and too irritated at the unwanted company to detect anything unusual about this overly enthusiastic local. Now, bringing Rey into focus, the Bothan began to appreciate just how brightly Rey seemed to shine within the Force.
Unfortunately, all of Yaqeel's testing equipment was stashed away in her starfighter. Still, based on what she had seen and heard so far, Yaqeel strongly suspected that, out here on one of the most backwater worlds in the known galaxy, she had stumbled across an undiscovered Force sensitive.
As if the Force itself had wanted her to do so.
Adopting a much friendlier tone than she had used with the girl so far, Yaqeel finally responded. "No, I think I understand you perfectly well. Tell me, Rey – how long have you been interested in the Jedi?"
A slight blush crossed the young woman's features. "Almost my whole life. I…I know I probably made a fool of myself back there at the cantina, but out here in a place like this, the stories I'd hear from spacers or on the cantina holoscreen about the Jedi were…well, they were some of the only things I had to look forward to. I know it sounds ridiculous, but every so often, I'd dream that a Jedi would come and take me away from here. I know they were just dreams, but they seemed so real. Then today, I was just passing through this outpost to hand in my latest haul at the stand, I heard all the commotion inside the cantina, I ran up to the window to see what was going on and…there you were, lightsaber in hand…as if my dreams had finally been answered."
Yaqeel saw that same awestruck sparkle in Rey's eyes that she had seen when they crossed paths. This time, the sight threw Yaqeel back into a distant memory – one from about seventy years ago.
Yaqeel was frightened. Yes, the Masters had told her that fear led to the dark side, but she had only been at the Jedi Praxeum for a few standard days. Never had so many lightyears stood between her and her family. Everywhere the Bothan youngling shuffled along these unfamiliar hallways, she encountered more and more robed strangers – some close to her age, others much older. A few sensed her agitation and tried to ask her where she was going or if she was looking for someone, but by this point, Yaqeel was in too frantic a state to listen and, even if she had heard their well-meaning questions, she doubted that she would have been able to answer them. She scarcely even noticed that her brisk walk had become a panicked run.
Just as she turned the next corner, she slammed into the brown-cloaked legs of a much taller figure, knocking her back on the floor. Embarrassed, Yaqeel returned to her feet and tilted her head upwards, preparing to apologise.
Then she gasped.
Looking down at her was a face she recognised immediately. Yes, the light skin and sandy brown hair had begun to show their age since the old news-holos she had seen throughout her childhood, but it was him: the Hero of the Rebellion himself.
With pools of reassurance behind his warm blue eyes and a comforting smile on his lips, Master Luke Skywalker spoke. "Hello there, little one. You must really be in a hurry to get somewhere!"
Yaqeel could only nod in silent wonder. Already she could feel her waves of panic receding.
For a moment, the elderly Yaqeel looked upon her infant self from the outside, seeing the awestruck eyes that must have met Master Luke's gaze…
…then the scene melted away, with that same awe now beaming from Rey's brown eyes.
A gentle smile spread across Yaqeel's features as her fur rippled into the Wrendui patterns that her fellow Bothans would recognise as a gesture of openness. "In all the commotion, I don't think I properly introduced myself. I'm Master Yaqeel Saav'etu of the Jedi Order and, while I'd have preferred us to get acquainted in circumstances that weren't so life-threatening, I must say you've made quite the first impression! Tell me – do you have any family here?"
A downcast look crept over Rey's face. "I'm afraid not. You see…I'm an orphan."
Yaqeel felt a pang of regret at her question. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that. I only asked because I wanted to know if there's anyone here on Jakku to whom you'd need to explain a long absence."
Rey's brows and mouth shifted into a puzzled, yet hopeful, expression. "A long absence?"
Yaqeel continued. "It turns out that I could do with an assistant on this mission after all! Be warned: it's extremely dangerous work – our little tangle with the First Order here will probably be the first of many brushes with them. Still, if you think you're ready to take on the risks and to come with me offworld, you're more than welcome to take the job and I'd be more than happy to start teaching you a thing or two about the Jedi arts! Indeed, if you have the kinds of talents I suspect you have, then, once we're done with our mission, I'll gladly bring you back to our Temple on Coruscant as a candidate for Jedi training!"
The sheer shock on Rey's face lasted so long that Yaqeel began to worry that she had placed too great a weight upon the girl without warning. Then the shock melted into a smile more radiant than the Jakku sun. "Yes! Yes, I'll take the job!"
The young woman was practically jumping up and down. "I…I can't believe it! A Jedi Master wants my help and thinks I could even become a Jedi myself!"
A sudden thought brought her to an abrupt standstill. "Does that mean I won't find out if my body can take the symbiote until we get to Coruscant?"
Yaqeel stared incredulously for several seconds. "I might have to make some…clarifications about the Jedi before your formal candidacy for apprenticeship. But first we need to get off this dustball! My starfighter only has room for one, but once we grab a few things from there, it shouldn't be too hard for us to find a ride out of here…"
For the sixth time in the last four standard minutes, Finn drew a deep breath. Fighting to keep his steps and posture steady, the fully-suited stormtrooper approached the grim, metal doors to the cell block. It had taken tremendous care for him to put all the pieces in place for the plan that he and Poe had come up with after their last meeting. First, he had needed to work out which security cams needed to be taken out and when and how to plant a looper on them without arousing suspicion. Then he had needed to construct multiple small explosives from stolen materials – ones whose absence could escape the Absolution's inventory checks – and plant them around the ship. More than once, Finn's nerves had shaken at the sound of approaching footsteps, but through focus, skill, and luck, he had put every bomb in place, out of sight and timed to detonate in the next few minutes. Under less grave circumstances, Finn would have chuckled at the irony that the very skills the First Order had trained him in were now being employed against them.
Even now, the doubt gnawed away in Finn's stomach. He was a Bloodwolf. Ever since that fateful day his teenage self was selected for the First Order Stormtrooper Corps, the Third Platoon had been the closest thing he had to a family. They were the people he had trained and fought alongside in a spirit of duty and camaraderie. They were his pack. Was he really prepared to betray them like this? The gnawing intensified as Finn began to wonder how many of those same people – how many of his pack-mates – might be killed by the bombs he had planted.
The trooper's mind was racing. Maybe I can still pull out of this? They say the Supreme Leader is merciful to those who repent. Maybe if I-
Just as quickly as that train of thought had entered his head, Finn shunted it aside. As little as he wanted to accept it, what Poe had told him was true: there was no longer any place for someone like him in the First Order and there was no way to save Poe other than by breaking him out. Though it went against every instinct instilled in him these last few years, Finn had to break from the pack.
For better or for worse, he was now a lone Bloodwolf.
With a low hiss, the heavy doors before him slid open. Taking a last deep breath, Finn strode into the cell block – his course of action clear, his fate anything but.
From his cell, Poe glared silently at the white-armoured trooper standing guard on the other side of the barrier. He had not been interrogated in several days, but his body had taken a great deal of punishment these last few weeks. That he still had the strength to stand and walk was frankly a miracle. Every so often, his tired eyes drifted to the cell door. Whether Finn had succeeded in planting the bombs and cam loopers, he did not know. Nor could he tell how much longer he would need to wait for Finn to get here.
If Finn's coming at all…
Moments later, the door opened. In walked another stormtrooper. With only a silent nod to acknowledge the handover, Poe's initial watchman stepped out of the cell. In a matter of seconds, the new guard had slammed the door shut and hurried along the back wall to attach a small object to the security cam in the corner. There was no doubt about it – this was Finn.
"Did you do it?" Poe asked with a tremble of hope.
"Yes," the trooper answered, sounding as if he could not quite believe it himself. "I did it. But we've gotta hurry – those bombs are gonna blow any minute now and, if they sound the alarm before we're outta the cell block, we might get stuck in here! Can you walk?"
Propping himself against the cell wall, Poe pulled his aching body to its feet. His legs felt weak beneath him, but with effort he stayed upright. "Yeah, I think so."
"Okay – get ready to move!"
Poe nodded as he saw Finn reach for the controls on his side of the transparent barrier. With a soft hiss, the barrier slid upwards. The Resistance fighter's heart leapt a little as, for the first time in weeks, the soles of his boots touched the floor outside the cell.
Having mentally rehearsed their plan many times since Finn's last visit, Poe immediately turned away from the renegade trooper and put both hands behind his back. A pair of cuffs snapped shut around his wrists. As expected, Finn kept the thin durasteel binders unlocked: they just needed to look convincing.
Soon the pair were stepping out of the cell and into the main corridor of the detention block, Finn slightly behind at all times, nudging Poe every now and then with his blaster rifle. Up ahead they could see a couple of sentries on either side of the cell block door, each clad in the same accursed white armour as Poe's "escort".
It was not long before one of the troopers signalled them to halt. "Where are you taking this prisoner?"
"Transfer order from Captain Phasma," replied Finn, masking any trace of nerves in his voice.
The sentry's head tilted slightly in puzzlement. "We weren't notified about any prisoner transfer."
"The captain has special plans for this prisoner. She felt it best to keep the transfer on a strictly need-to-know basis. I was instructed to bring him directly to her."
The trooper stared at Finn through the black visors of his helmet. "I'll need to see your authorisation."
Poe held his breath as Finn slowly handed over a small datapad. For several long, agonising seconds, the sentry examined the displayed information. Eventually, the guard's helmet tilted back up to face the pair. "I'm afraid I'll need direct confirmation from Phasma before I ca-"
A distant boom interrupted the trooper, sending slight but unnerving tremors through the metal floor beneath them. All at once, the detention block broke into a hellish din of blaring alarms, red lights flashing in all directions. Seizing the opportunity, Poe snapped off his unlocked cuffs and tackled the shocked sentry to the floor. In the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Finn bringing his blaster up and around with practised swiftness before smashing the rifle butt into the other guard's helmet, leaving the trooper sprawled out unconscious. Beneath him, Poe's own armoured opponent was pushing back against him, one gloved hand reaching for the blaster now lying on the floor beside them. An abrupt flash later, the sentry slumped motionless beneath him.
"Nice shot!" Poe observed with gratitude to Finn as he sprang back to his feet, picking up his stunned opponent's rifle. Over the blare of alarms, he could just about hear the cries for help ringing out from the cells and wondered if he could get to the detention block control room and deactivate all the locks and barriers. He pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come to him: the Resistance was counting on him to finish his mission and, as awful as he felt about leaving the other prisoners to their fate, he could not afford to risk that kind of detour. "Right, let's get outta here!"
Willing his tired and battered body into motion, the Resistance fighter headed for the exit before noticing his accomplice's hesitation. "What are you waiting for? They'll have the doors sealed any second!"
Snapping to attention, Finn took his position slightly in front of Poe, ready to lead the way. As they took their first hurried steps through the cell block door, Finn called back with a trace of uncertainty in his voice. "Should we keep our blasters on stun?"
Poe suppressed a sigh before replying through his trademark grin. "Your choice, but I doubt they'll return the favour!"
The defector gave a sober nod as the pair proceeded, reluctantly switching the setting on his blaster. Up ahead, through the infernal flashes of the warning lights, they could see the next set of doors: the ones that would lead them out of the detention facilities and into the main sections of the Absolution. Already they could see the daunting, metal doors starting to close from each side. Summoning even more from his thinning reserves of energy, Poe willed his legs into a sprint, straining not to fall behind Finn. Just when it seemed the doors would slam shut right in front of them, the pair leapt through the remaining sliver of space in the middle, crashing into the outside corridor as the mechanical lock whirred into place behind them.
With pounding hearts, the duo picked themselves up, Finn gesturing for Poe to follow him to their left. It was just as manic outside the detention block. Here and there through the blaring alarms, members of the Absolution's crew ran with disciplined haste, many heading for the deck where Finn's time bomb had gone off. Moments later, a second blast rang out in the distance, sending even more crewmen and troopers scrambling for the stairwells.
"This way!" Finn called back as he turned right into a long, narrow hallway. Every so often, the lights ahead flickered ominously from what Poe could only assume to be explosion damage to the power supply. About thirty metres in, Finn brought them to a halt before a medium-sized hatch on the left wall. "This leads to a maintenance shaft," Finn explained as he grabbed and turned the handle. With a slight creak, the hatch swung open. Sure enough, there was a narrow, vertical shaft inside, dimly lit with metal climbing rungs stretching up and down as far as the pair could see. "We need to go down nine decks to reach the hangar we want. Are you strong enough to climb?"
"I think so," Poe replied as he peered into the foreboding depths. "Not that I have much choice!"
"Okay, I'll go first!"
With that, Finn slung back his rifle and reached into the shaft. He found and gripped the best-placed rungs before pulling his whole body inside and starting his descent with caution and urgency alike.
Poe quietly stood at the edge of the shaft, feeling his muscle aches return as he prepared to follow his unlikely partner down what would doubtless be an arduous nine-deck climb. Like a doomed soul descending through the Nine Corellian Hells…
"Looks like they've got all sides covered." Yaqeel fought a sigh of exasperation as the words left her lips. For the past few standard minutes, she and Rey had made their way through the Niima Outpost landing field, taking pains to avoid detection. From there the Jedi Master and her newfound travel partner had worked out exactly where she must have hidden her StealthR, only to find the parked starfighter surrounded by nearly twenty rifle-toting paramilitaries. Among those standing in front of the Jedi craft, Yaqeel could make out Thaeeti's distinctive, three-horned features. Judging by his hand gestures, the First Order operative was ordering the remaining militiamen to set up a perimeter around the captured fighter.
Staying in cover beside Yaqeel, Rey frowned at the sight. "Maybe we could fight our way through?"
Yaqeel shook her head. She might have taken that option twenty or even ten years ago, but advanced age had left her heavily reliant on the Force valour technique to give herself the necessary speed and strength to fight effectively. Between the intense heat, the cantina brawl, and the speeder chase, her muscles were already starting to feel the strain. Besides, I wouldn't just be trying to shield myself from all that blasterfire – I'd also be trying to shield Rey.
The old Bothan breathed sharply. "I don't like it, but I think we'll just have to let them keep the fighter and start looking for a new ship." She inwardly grimaced at what the First Order might do if they got their hands on the starfighter's cutting-edge stealth systems, which had come even closer to a 'true' cloaking device than those on its StealthX predecessor. Although, Yaqeel remembered, I do still have a way to throw a hydrospanner in the works…
"Master Yaqeel," Rey began as the pair crept further behind the sand heap they were hiding behind. "I just had a thought. Most of them are either guarding your fighter or searching for us, right?"
"Right."
"How many people do you think they've left to guard their own ships?"
An amused smile crept across Yaqeel's face as she caught the young woman's drift. "You know, Rey – I'm starting to think I'll really enjoy working with you!"
"Ok, we're clear – just a little further!" Glancing down the corridor in both directions, Finn clasped his hand around Poe's sweat-drenched arm and pulled him through the hatch. Giving the exhausted Resistance fighter a moment to catch his breath, Finn looked with a soaring heart at the metallic, cavernous space that lay just beyond the open door at the end of the hallway. Only a few nights before, he had checked every hangar on the Absolution's floor plans that might offer the pair an escape route. It quickly became apparent that, no matter which hangar they chose, they would have an enormous task on their hands. Every hangar on this Star Destroyer could have its doors shut remotely at the first sign of an unauthorised take-off. Still, Finn had been able to narrow down the few hangars of the ship that had backup manual controls in addition to the remote ones. This was one of them.
And if I correctly judged the position and blast radius of my last few time bombs, I should have seriously kriffed up the circuitry for this hangar's remote controls and security systems!
Once Poe had taken all the deep breaths he needed, Finn began to lead him to the end of the corridor. "There it is! Once we're in, all we have to do is access the manual controls, open the hangar doors, find a ship, and get outta h-"
"Halt! Put down your weapons!"
Finn swore under his breath at the sudden shout from behind them. With instincts honed through countless stormtrooper drills, he ducked and spun into a low crouch, bringing up his rifle and peering down the sights. A pair of glowing, red bolts flew perilously close overhead, right where his chest had been. Poe followed his lead, bringing his own rifle to bear. With a gentle squeeze of the trigger, Finn let off a burst of blasterfire. The first attacker – a near-human, grey-uniformed naval security officer – fell under the crimson hail. The second – a thick- and tan-skinned Weequay in identical garb – ducked into a nearby crevice in the wall, raising a small, metallic comlink to his mouth in what could only be a call for backup. Keeping the Weequay pinned with occasional blaster shots, the two escapees edged their way towards the hangar. Finn's stomach turned as his eyes fell upon the dead security officer lying in the middle of the hallway. The man might not have been a fellow stormtrooper, but this was still the first time Finn had knowingly killed a First Order member.
The first time he had knowingly taken the life of a former brother-in-arms.
As the shudders ran up Finn's spine, he spotted the familiar glint of white body armour rapidly approaching in the distance. Through the mounting dryness in his mouth, Finn called back to Poe. "Get to the controls! I can slow them down here, but we need those hangar doors open fast!"
"On it!" Poe answered with urgency, willing his aching muscles into motion once more. As his fellow escapee dashed for the panel at the back where the manual controls were, Finn took a new position at one side of the door to the hangar, leaning out ever so slightly to aim his blaster down the corridor. The second the approaching stormtrooper squad entered the sights and range of his rifle, he fired. The blaster bolt narrowly missed the lead trooper, leaving a smoking, black mark on the wall behind. Taking their own firing positions, the armoured soldiers responded in kind. Finn pulled back to hug the wall, taking a sharp breath as a rain of enemy blaster bolts missed him by inches. Some bit into the edge of the door. Others shot past into the hangar. Returning to a crouch, Finn leaned out again, this time sustaining his blasterfire. One trooper hit the ground with a pained yell as a red bolt connected with his thigh. Finn grimaced at the sound. At this distance, he had no way of telling if these stormtroopers were his now-former platoon-mates, but the prospect of gunning down his fellow Bloodwolves was no less unsettling.
Behind him, Poe was fighting to keep a cool head at the control panel, trying to work out how to open the large hangar doors into space. While Finn's stream of suppressive fire was slowing the enemy's advance, he could not keep every trooper in the squad pinned at the same time. Bit by bit, the gleaming white figures were gaining ground along the hallway. Already the gloomy assessments were flooding into Finn's mind. At this rate, it'll be only a couple of standard minutes before they reach the hangar. And that's assuming they don't get reinforcements beforehand!
Still, he had one trick left up his sleeve.
Reaching into a pouch on his utility built with his left hand while he squeezed off more blaster rounds with his right, Finn pulled out a small object: a vaguely cuboid device with a safety-locked button on top.
It was a remote detonator.
Two nights previously, when he was scoping out the hangar as a potential escape route, an idea came to him. After putting a looper on this corridor section's security cam and anxiously calculating how long he had before the next patrol was due, he had hurriedly unscrewed the cover from a small air vent on the wall and placed a little surprise inside. Finn could vividly recall how much sweat had dripped from his brow in his rush to screw the cover back on and remove the looper from the cam before somebody noticed, but by the skin of his teeth, he succeeded.
Unlike the other explosives he had planted around the Absolution, this bomb did not have a timer: its only trigger was the button under Finn's left thumb.
The button he had just unlocked.
A chorus of hums and whirrs rang out from Finn's left. "Finn!" Poe called to him from behind. "I've got the doors open, but I still need to start up this shuttle! How much time can you buy us?"
"Just enough!" Finn yelled back, leaning out to lay down more suppressive fire. He could make out the vent with the hidden bomb about ten metres down the hallway. If I time the detonation just right, we ca-
A searing pain shot up his right arm.
Finn felt his face contort into a scream as his left arm covered the fresh blaster wound, his dropped rifle clanging against the floor. Already the stormtrooper squad was rapidly closing the gap and, from what Finn could tell, Poe had not finished starting up the shuttle behind him. Still gripping the remote detonator in his left hand, the defector knew there was no more time for niceties like optimum timing or getting a safe distance. With a silent plea to the Force that the troopers charging down the corridor were not his old pack-mates, he pressed the button.
The explosion threw Finn backwards onto the hard, metallic floor of the hangar. A wave of pain shot through his body as the bright flames licked his armour. Mercifully, he had still been a good few metres away from the centre of the blast zone, his heavy plasteel plating taking the worst of the discharge.
He could not say the same for the troopers in the hallway.
Weakly raising his head to peer down the corridor, Finn saw the still bodies sprawled across the floor, their once pristine armour almost completely blackened. Through the fire and smoke, he could just about discern further figures approaching from the distant end of the hallway: the reinforcements had arrived. Seconds later, the roar of engines told Finn that Poe finally had the shuttle ready for launch.
"Go!" Finn shouted through coughs and splutters. He waved desperately at the cockpit window of the three-winged craft for Poe to take off, removing his helmet so that the Resistance pilot inside could read his lips. "Just go! I can't walk fast enough to get aboard, but I can slow them down here!"
As the words left him, Finn pulled his battered, pain-wracked body into a sitting position. With his good hand, he reached for his blaster rifle and brought it under his left shoulder, ready to resume firing. If this is gonna be my final stand, then at least I'll go out doing the one thing in life I was actually good at!
Time seemed to slow in the First Order shuttle cockpit as Poe watched Finn's impassioned plea for him to take off. The launch controls before him were ready: with barely more than a flip of a switch, Poe would be out of the hangar doors and free to finish his mission. Sure, he had needed Finn to break out of his cell, but now that the turncoat had served his purpose and Poe had little time to spare, leaving Finn to make his little heroic last stand seemed a perfectly reasonable course of action.
Besides, Poe thought to himself, isn't this just what that Imp deserves? It's good that he helped you get to this point, but that can't undo the things he's done.
The chilling sight of Teq'ah's dead face flashed in his mind.
It can't wash off the innocent blood on his hands.
Still, Poe's thoughts continued, he's got a lot of firsthand knowledge of First Order tactics and strategy. Maybe he can be an asset to the Resistance after all?
In that vital moment, Poe made his choice.
The world around him was a blur as he sprinted down the shuttle's ramp and across the hangar floor to where Finn had already resumed his streams of suppressive fire. Sending his own blaster shots down the burning hallway, Poe ducked his head below Finn's free arm, using his neck and back to heave the wounded trooper into a stand. "On your feet, soldier!"
Finn's coughs resumed as he staggered backwards towards the boarding ramp, Poe supporting him each step of the way. "I told you to take off!"
Squeezing off more rounds of blasterfire to keep the pursuing stormtroopers pinned, Poe replied with all the gusto he could summon. "You're with the Resistance now, and the Resistance leaves no one behind!"
Poe sighed inwardly as the words left his lips: the stock phrase he had heard in countless clichéd war holos. Already his mind was flooding with gut-wrenching memories.
All the Resistance fighters who had failed to get to their extraction point on time.
All the civilians he had promised the Resistance would come back to help, only for the war effort to shift the organisation's priorities elsewhere.
All the villagers lying dead on Ilis because of him.
Yeah, Poe mused bitterly as he pulled Finn into the shuttle, slamming the button to withdraw the ramp and close the hatch. The Resistance leaves no one behind…
Within seconds, he was back in the pilot seat, carefully guiding the shuttle through the open hangar doors. Moments later, the small craft vanished in a jump to lightspeed.
"Any sign of 'em yet?" Thaeeti grumbled into his comlink as he circled the captured StealthR for the umpteenth time, the fingers of his other hand clutching a freshly rolled and lit cigarra.
"Still nothing," came the faint reply. "Maybe they snuck off into the desert?"
"Not likely," Thaeeti answered, bringing the cigarra to his limps for a long drag. "Even if they don't try to retake the Jedi's starfighter – and I'm damn sure we're dealing with a Jedi, not an Imp Knight – they know that the only way off this rock is through Niima Outpost, so they've gotta be around here somewhe-"
A tremendous woosh kicked up a mighty gust around him, kicking up sand and putting out the cigarra. Tilting his head towards the painfully bright Jakku sky, Thaeeti saw a large object hurtling overhead. Though it was rapidly moving beyond naked eyesight, the First Order operative needed only a second to realise what the object was.
"My ship!" Thaeeti bellowed with rage. "The Jedi poodoo stole my ship!"
Kicking the ground in frustration as the craft disappeared completely, Thaeeti mentally braced himself for the report he now had to write for his superiors…and for what his superiors would probably do to him after such a serious kriff-up.
Although, Thaeeti thought as he desperately sought some favourable angle to salvage the situation, my superiors would surely appreciate me delivering them a fully-functional Jedi starfighter with cutting-edge stealth tech! If I spin it just righ-
A sudden blast from behind knocked Thaeeti off his feet. After several seconds sprawled and stunned on the sandy earth, the First Order agent slowly pulled himself into a sitting position and looked back. As the smoke and dust cleared, Thaeeti's eyes confirmed his fears: the starfighter was in flaming pieces across the ground.
A remote self-destruct! Thaeeti realised instantly as the despair gripped him even tighter. Scrambling for the nearest large fragment of the wreckage, he began to kick sand over the flames, urging his fellow paramilitaries to do the same. It's fine! His panic-stricken mind assured him against all evidence to the contrary. Maybe there's enough in the most intact pieces of wreckage to give our engineers some ideas? In which case, I won't have to report a total failure, right? Right?!
A resigned sigh left Thaeeti's lips. Yeah, I'm completely kriffed, aren't I?
Though Phasma's face remained obscured by her chromium-plated helmet, the tension in the air was so thick that, all around her, people swore they could feel her furious stare burning through the Star Destroyer's bridge.
There was no mincing words about it: the last few standard hours aboard the Absolution had been a total disaster. A valuable prisoner had escaped before they could extract the desired intel from him. They were still repairing systems after all the bombs that had gone off in quick succession throughout the ship. They had suffered casualties on multiple decks, including an entire stormtrooper squad. A Xi-class light shuttle had been stolen from right under their noses.
But from Phasma's perspective, perhaps the most damning thing to emerge from this catastrophe was the revelation that the prisoner had escaped thanks to a turncoat stormtrooper. A stormtrooper who had planted the bombs, broken the prisoner out of his cell, and slain his former comrades.
A stormtrooper she had given the highest commendation just a few weeks ago.
For any First Order member to commit apostasy on her watch was a source of tremendous shame. For the apostate to be someone whose training Phasma had overseen herself, someone who was supposed to embody absolute devotion to the Supreme Leader and the True Imperial Creed, left a stain on her soul so deep that nothing short of personally bringing the traitor to justice could complete her atonement.
"Do you have any clue where the prisoner and his accomplice might have gone? Perhaps my brother Knights and I could be of assistance?"
It took all of Phasma's discipline not to show disgust as she turned to face the man addressing her. Standing just a few metres away was a figure in weathered, black robes with a dark, metallic mask beneath his hood. The morbid sockets on the mask where the eyes and nose would be reminded Phasma of a human skull. This was the Knight of Ren who was supposed to extract the intel from the Resistance prisoner's mind. For one as pure in her devotion to the Creed as Phasma, few things were more humiliating than looking incompetent in front of a heretic.
A heretic the Supreme Leader wants me to work with, Phasma reminded herself before replying. "No, but if he's been visiting sites where your brother Knights have been searching for artefacts, that should narrow down the range of locations he'd investigate next."
Just as Phasma was about to order one junior officer to update the holographic map display accordingly, another spoke up from the comms desk. "Captain – we've just received a report from Agent Thaeeti on Jakku. He says he caught an enemy agent probing into our smuggling and black-market operations, investigating where our Force artefacts are going." The officer – a dark-complexioned human female with neat, brown hair – went still as she read further. "Captain…he says the enemy agent was a Jedi."
Phasma's eyes widened beneath her helmet. "Are you certain?"
"Yes, ma'am: the report says the agent was a Force user with an amber-bladed lightsaber." And an Imperial Knight would have a white-silver blade, Phasma added mentally before her subordinate continued. "Agent Thaeeti also says that the Jedi stole and escaped on his ship: one of the converted light freighters we use for covert operations."
Phasma slammed her armoured first upon the nearest panel. "That bungling fool! If the Jedi have come this far beyond Alliance Space and tracked us all the way to Jakku, then who knows how much they've managed to find out?!"
She turned to face the Knight of Ren once more. "And I don't think I need to remind you that it was your raids on old Jedi and Sith sites that attracted their accursed order's attention in the first place!"
The Knight met Phasma's cold, masked stare with his own. "And I don't think I need to remind you that we raided those sites in accordance with the Supreme Leader's commands."
"The fact that you were following the Supreme Leader's commands doesn't mean you did so competently. If my Inquisitorial stormtroopers had been assigned to take those artefacts, they would have left much less of a trail to follow!"
"And if you can excuse my frankness, Captain, after everything that's happened right here – on your watch – in the last few hours, you're in no position to question anyone's competence. And who knows? Perhaps the Supreme Leader entrusted us to retrieve those artefacts because we understand how each piece of lost knowledge within them comes together to serve the Balance."
"That's enough, Ap'lek."
The pair turned towards the unexpected voice. There, in a tenebrous corner of the command deck, a tall figure stepped out from the shadows, as if he were materialising out of the darkness itself.
Like the Knight of Ren Phasma had been speaking to – the one called 'Ap'lek' – the unannounced visitor was entirely wrapped in ominous black robes. He even hid his face under a similar mask, albeit one with a single, horizontal visor surrounded by a distinctive silver inlay rather than the more skull-like design of Ap'lek's.
This was no ordinary Knight of Ren. His mere presence sent chills down even Phasma's spine and his dark, distorted voice carried a weight of authority that even the most imposing of his fellow Knights could never quite match. This was the man the other Knights called 'Master': the man apprenticed to the Supreme Leader himself.
"If the Jedi Council has sent its lackeys to uncover our plans, so be it. I know the minds of Jedi better than anyone: the twisted secrets they hide beneath their masks of virtue. In the meantime, Captain, I would be more than happy to help you find your lost prisoner...and to give him a thorough interrogation…"
Author's note: Here we are, a whole seven chapters in! I decided to make the Jakku chase speeder-based rather than ship-based because I wanted a bit of variety and thought that Rey's makeshift speeder in the film was rather underused. Also, while the camera reveal of the Millennium Falcon in the row of ships at Niima Outpost was cute, I thought a coincidence like that would be a bit too contrived here, especially as this version of the events takes place in 95ABY rather than 34ABY.
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