Inej didn't return to the Barrel immediately after leaving the conference room. She helped Jesper wander part of the way back there, let Wylan and Matthias do their own thing, and watched Nina and Kuwei's retreating backs as they presumably went off to do Jedi stuff.

The first thing she did was get to the bunkroom she shared with Nina and take a shower. She let herself relax for about half an hour before figuring that perhaps she should go greet the person who'd promised a whole barrage of questions for her.

"You," Anika said, immediately upon opening the door to see Inej standing there, "have a lot of explaining to do."

Inej had to grin. Anika was. . . a breath of fresh air. She was her best friend, after Nina, and the similarities between the two were staggering at times.

But while Inej loved Nina with all her heart, she still associated her with work, to some extent. Their relationship was complex and everywhere - they could go out one morning for waffles and end up breaking each other out of prison because a mission went wrong an hour later. Inej and Nina were the dream team, the Wraith and the Jedi, sisters in all but blood.

Anika and Inej weren't that close. They didn't work together on missions. They didn't even see each other that often when living on whatever base the Rebellion was using that week.

But Inej and Anika knew each other from before. From when Inej was a newly appointed smuggler, trying to find her way in a world she had suddenly rocked up the social hierarchy of. Anika, an old criminal compatriot of Kaz's, had taken one look at the former slave girl and decided to teach her the ins and outs of the trade.

Kaz had taught Inej how to survive, it was true. But Anika had taught Inej how to live again.

"I suppose I do," she conceded, allowing herself to be tugged into the bunkroom Anika shared with a pilot from her squadron. She glanced at her friend - all flyaway hair and shimmering irreverence and expressive hand gestures - and sat down on the bunk next to her.

"First things first, then," Anika began. That was something one would never expect about her: she was always extremely logical. "Why did you come into base on Kaz Brekker's beloved Barrel? Is the demjin himself here"

"I suppose a better question would be why you were on lookout duty in the first place," she pointed out.

Anika rolled her eyes. "Lost another bet with Lantsov. Been on duty for three days now - still got four to go."

"I find it eternally unnerving that you and one of our esteemed leaders have a habit of betting on the outcomes of battles and training exercises."

"You should've seen General Kir-Bataar. She cleared us all out a few credits." Anika winked cheerfully, then sobered up again. She poked at Inej. "You're avoiding the question."

"I suppose I am." With a sigh, Inej admitted, "I didn't have enough faith in my own slicing skills to entrust such an important mission to them. So I decided to recruit the expert, and naturally-"

"Kaz refused to fly in any ship other than his own," Anika finished. "You know, I can slice just as well as he can."

"You were busy making bets with higher-ups."

"That is cruel, Ghafa. Cruel. I feel betrayed. To think, all these years of calling you my friend-"

"I'm sure you'll get over it eventually," Inej laughed. Very few people could make her laugh as much as Nina could, but Anika was one of them. "You always do."

"I'm surprised you got over whatever it was Kaz said to you," Anika said thoughtfully, calculation replacing the mirth in her eyes as she looked at Inej. "You were cut up about it for months."

Inej tried not to look like she was grinding her teeth together. "Necessity trumps sentiment."

"Harrumph." Anika pursed her lips. "You're an emotional person, Inej, and you own it. Don't start locking them away now. As Nina would say," she leaned in and put on a hushed, reverent voice, "trust your feelings."

"Nina would kill you if she heard that sort of mockery."

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." Anika sat back against the wall, kicking one foot over the other. "And Nina's a Jedi. She won't kill anyone, 'cept Morozova."

"And Koroleva."

"Her too." Anika frowned. "I really hope I'm there to see those despots get what's coming to them."

"You'll be there in spirit, I'm sure." Her chrono beeped, then, and Inej glanced at the time. "I should probably head back to the Barrel, make sure Kaz or Jesper hasn't blown anything up yet."

"Jesper?"

"Kaz's newest partner."

Anika smirked. "I look forward to meeting him."

"I'm sure the feeling's mutual." Inej stood up, tapping at the belt round her waist - a nervous habit she'd always had, checking she was fully prepared. Only now, instead of ensuring she had all her toy spaceships and doodling books, she was checking for blasters and comlinks.

Oh, how things had changed.

"Promise me you'll come visit more often?" Anika asked, then added, voice half-serious, half-playful, ""Or I'll think the Imps have caught you."

Inej's eyes crinkled as she smiled wider. "I can do that." She turned to the door. "See you around, flygirl."

Anika smiled. It was a genuine smile - the kind that always lifted Inej's spirits, no matter the context. "See you around, Wraith."


Her conversation with Anika had put her in a good mood, so she felt positively vibrant when she finally got round to mounting the Barrel's boarding ramp. There were various sacks and bundles tossed haphazardly across the floor there, but that didn't stop her from bounding inside and shouting, "Kaz?" into the interior.

"He's in the back," Jesper called from the cockpit. Inej turned to ferret him out.

"Kaz?" She found him in what she recognised as the bunkroom she and Nina had shared, cradling a satchel she recognised as hers in his arms. "Why are you holding my bag?"

Although she doubted anyone else would have noticed it, he looked momentarily confused. "I'm clearing out all your stuff."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

He paused in the motion of picking up Nina's satchel from her bunk. Spying a glint of metal, she snatched it out of his hands; she did not what to know what would happen if a) Kaz got hold of Nina's lightsaber or b) Nina found out that Kaz had gotten hold of her lightsaber.

"Because I assumed this job was over."

Her head snapped back up to meet his eyes. They were dark, his mouth tightly bracketed, but she couldn't read his expression. Few could.

"It's still just a job to you," she said, something sinking in her stomach. Shame flushed into the vacuum left behind. She couldn't believe she'd left herself think that he might actually stay for once. "Even after two planets have been blown up, with countless victims, you don't care."

He narrowed his eyes. "Not enough to get myself killed, no."

Inej just sighed, and turned to leave. "Alright. Leave with your credits and we'll get another ship for the next mission."

She was already in the hallway and approaching the exit when Kaz said, "Wait."

She ignored the faint hope that stirred in her chest and looked back at him. "What?"

He bit his lip. "Come with us."

Inej blinked.

Then she blinked again.

"Kaz," she said, tone half-placating, half-rational. "I'm with the Rebellion. I always will be. You know this." Her tone grew impossibly soft. "I'm not going with you and Jesper."

He pursed his lips. The moment of vulnerability was gone: his eyes shuttered, his face hardened and he raised his chin minutely. "Alright," he said. "I guess I'll see you around then." He glanced down, and seemed to realise he was still holding her satchel. "Here." He dumped it in her arms.

"Thanks." She gritted her teeth, then forced herself to relax. "And. . ." At his expectant look, her shoulders slumped. "Yeah. I guess I'll see you."

Kaz opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it again. The silence stretched into awkwardness.

Naturally, Nina managed to break it with an unexpected entrance.

"Inej get in the cockpit with Jesper and Kaz strap yourself in we're taking off quickly!" she barked, then dashed into the bunkroom. "Have you seen my-" she cut herself off when she glanced back at the bundle in Inej's arms, "-lightsaber."

Inej was barely paying attention. "Why are we taking off?!"

Nina froze. "You didn't know?" She shook her head. "The Empire found our base. The Imperial Navy is on its way, and all non-essential personnel are being evacuated. Those working in covert operations are leaving for the rendezvous coordinates now. And as for us," she finished grimly, "Lantsov ordered us to continue the investigation. Figured we've already got a team together, why assign a different one? Use Kuwei's information, head to another world involved in the construction of this Death Star. See what we can find out. Then meet them at the next base once they've set it up and all has been cleared, etcetera."

"Are the others already here?" Inej cottoned on quickly, mind racing.

"Kuwei strapped himself in while I came back here. Wylan and Matthias are arriving. . ." Nina made the strange, distant face she always did when she communicated with the Force, ". . .now. So get in the cockpit and get us off this planet!" She paused for breath, then, "My lightsaber?"

"Sure." Inej handed it over.

Nina took it with a faint smirk curling the edge of her mouth. She glanced at Kaz. "I guess you're stuck with us for a little while longer, then."

Kaz was looking at Inej as he said, "I guess so."


The base was in chaos. Jesper watched Rebels scurry this way and that out of the viewport, occasionally glancing up at the triangular Star Destroyers that kept coalescing just beyond the atmosphere. Get here soon, Inej. I want to take off.

Almost like she'd heard his silent prayer, she appeared. "Ready to go?" she inquired, slipping into the chair on his right. If she'd noticed that he'd chosen to occupy the pilot's seat and not the co-pilot's, she didn't comment.

"I've run the pre-flight checks and she's ready for liftoff," he answered promptly, hands already flying across the console. "The only thing we need to do now is-"

A blast hit a building not far away. The ship didn't rock, but Inej looked anxious and Jesper gritted his teeth anyway.

"-fly," he finished, then yanked the controls. They flew upwards with a jolt; Inej yelped.

Jesper wasted a few moments of thought on apologies before turning back to the console, noting peripherally that Inej was doing the same. He didn't know if that Death Star was present - if it was, they were all thoroughly doomed, he knew that much - but he wanted to be out of here before he had cause to find out.

Dantooine's cerulean sky was approaching rapidly - probably too rapidly, a part of him thought, but they were in a hurry, they needed to get out of here, they needed to-

"How are those hyperspace coordinates coming along?"

"Kuwei gave me a destination just before I got in here," Inej answered. "Plotting the jump to lightspeed now."

"Well make it quick," Jesper muttered as they broke atmo, "because we're about to have - oh, karabast!"

"That's a new one," Inej somehow found the time to quip, even as her fingers blurred across the navicomputer and the ship rocked from the blaster shot.

"Shut up," he growled back, then he glanced up, out through the viewport, and his limbs locked up. Mother of moons. . .

"That's a big ship," he said faintly once he'd gotten his breath back. It had taken several moments to calm himself.

Inej barely glanced up. "Well, it is a Destroyer-" She cut herself off as she actually deigned to look at it, and her eyes bugged out of her head. "That's-"

"A Destroyer, we covered this-"

"-Koroleva's flagship."

Jesper gripped the controls even harder, even as they swerved to avoid fire from the turrets on one of the Destroyers. "Are you fragging kidding me-"

"Why is there so much swearing going on here?" The new voice was deep, disgruntled, and somewhat whiny. Matthias.

"Because," Inej said grimly, "we're in deep, deep shit." She glanced over her shoulder at the blond, who'd taken the seat behind Jesper. "Why are you up the front?"

"Kaz suggested, rather forcefully, that sitting in the cockpit and looking out the viewports might decrease the chance of me vomiting everywhere again." Matthias sounded so. . . put out. . . that Inej barely suppressed a smile. "He also mentioned the fact that the cockpit is yours and Jesper's territory, so he wouldn't be the one obligated to clean it up if I did."

Even Jesper had to bark a laugh at that. At least, until another shot clipped the side of the ship and he clenched his jaw against the shuddering.

Matthias was peering up at the blockade that had assembled itself over the planet. "That ship looks familiar. . ."

"We saw it on Eadu," Jesper bit out shortly. "It's Koroleva's flagship."

Jesper couldn't turn his head to look at him, but from the several moments of silence that came after it, it took Matthias several moments to digest the words. "Oh." His voice was weak. "How did she find us so quickly?"

Jesper looked to Inej - she was the Wraith; she probably had all the answers.

"Shit luck," she said promptly. "Our own shit luck."

"So now we're all going to die." Despite Jesper's attempts at flippancy, there was a sort of resignation to the words.

"No," Inej said firmly, "we're not. Standard procedure for evacuations is for the main ion cannon to fire two shots per transport, to try to blast a hole in the blockade. We just need to survive out here until they fire it, then we can jump to lightspeed through the opening."

"Easier said than done," Jesper muttered, dragging the Barrel into another impromptu nosedive to avoid a barrage of fire. Inej scrambled to follow suit.

Jesper would never remember what happened after that. Whether it was for two seconds or two hours, the world narrowed to his hands flying across the controls, the crimson and jade streaks against the black, the rush of blood in and out of his head even as he dipped and dived-

But never buckled. Never failed. There was some cosmic entity leading him through the dance, and he could feel the ship under his hands, feel the trajectory of the bolts he was dodging, feel Inej's focus and Matthias's terror and even the captain of the nearest Star Destroyer's amalgamation of anticipation and frustration. . .

He also felt Matthias tense up behind him. He was dragged out of his trance by the blond's question, "What's that ship doing?"

Inej asked it before Jesper could: "What ship?"

But then he could see it. A lone starfighter, X-wing class, was flying right up to the nose of the Star Destroyer. Koroleva's Destroyer, to be specific.

"Are they mad?" Inej asked, eyes following the motions. Then she stilled.

Jesper glanced over; her lips were slightly parted, her face drained of colour.

She looked. . . haunted.

"Inej? What are they doing?" Jesper couldn't quite keep the rising panic out of his voice. "Inej?"

Inej just shook her head. "The ion cannon should have fired by now," she whispered. "It should've fired, but it hasn't. There must be something wrong with it. And without it. . . there's no getting through this blockade."

Jesper almost physically felt the fear in the cockpit mount. Most of it was Matthias's, but a large part was his as well. Inej, peculiarly enough, was the only one who didn't feel afraid. Just. . . concerned.

"Unless. . ." She trailed off, then checked the scanners. "That ship is powering up its hyperdrive," she observed quietly. She narrowed her eyes, then widened them again, realisation stark again her face. "No!"

Jesper shot his glance towards the lone starfighter again.

Just in time to see it dissolve into a streak of blue.

"What the- are they crazy?" It was more exclamation than question. Jesper's heart was thudding. "They just blew themselves to bits colliding with the-"

"Yes. They did." Inej lifted a hand from the console. "But look."

Jesper looked.

They was something wrong with that Destroyer. The bridge had exploded in a cascade of brilliant sparks - it seemed to be drifting towards the planet below. And the ship was falling in two directions, splitting apart due to-

Due to a jagged line of molten durasteel where the Destroyer had been rent in two. Directly down the centre.

Directly where the starfighter's flight trajectory had taken it.

"Mother of-" Jesper began, but Inej cut him off.

"There's an opening in the blockade! Go!"

Wordlessly, he yanked back the lever and sent them into the swirling mass of hyperspace.


The ship rocked as they sustained heavy damage, but Nikolai's gaze was fixated on the epic space battle going on outside.

"You've got to be kidding me," Tamar breathed next to him, staring out of the evacuation ship Bittern's viewport, "who would be crazy enough to lightspeed right the way through a Star Destroyer?"

"Who was that?" Nikolai asked his aid, hovering beside them. "Can you identify the ship?"

"We can, sir," his aide replied promptly. Before he could continue, Tamar had turned around and snatched the datapad out of his hands.

"Let me see." She flicked through it, eyes narrowed. "Callsign, Red Five; name, Lieutenant-" She choked up. Nikolai glanced at her, a concerned question in his gaze. She looked up at him, and even if he had felt like joking around - though he rarely did, nowadays; war took its toll on everyone - her expression would have sucked all the mirth out of him. "It was Anika."

Anika, who would laugh and wager and race against the best of them. Anika, the ex-smuggler. Anika, who was well on her way to becoming the Rebellion's newest mascot, she was so popular.

Or rather, had been well on her way. Not anymore.

"It's certainly the reckless thing she would've done," Tamar offered. There wasn't a hint of a smile on her face; this wasn't the time for jokes.

But Nikolai tried for one anyway. "Well, kriff," he said, ignoring the scandalised look his aide tossed at him. "Looks like I'm behind on our little recklessness contest. What do you suppose I could do to narrow the margin?"

"Not now, kapitan," Tamar warned. Nikolai conceded with a grimace, then glanced outside again. Hope rekindled itself in his heart.

"Well, reckless or not, it opened a hole in the blockade," he pointed out. "She took out Koroleva's ship with her."

"Alina's ship," Tamar murmured. Unbidden, memories rose to mind - just as they had in the conference room.

Dark hair pulled back in a nonsense plait, wearing the robes of a Jedi but with none of a Jedi's serenity, Alina rolling her eyes - she'd always been so very expressive, whether it was terror or joy she was showing - and laughing. That's not how the Force works!

Silver tears and red eyes, voice cracked from sobbing. There is no emotion, there is only peace, the Jedi would claim. Mal's dead, Alina whispering despite it. He's dead and I miss him so much.

A high-spirited argument. I think the Supreme Chancellor's a noble man - especially for his youth. He's barely older than you or I. Shaking his head, wondering how, even with her Jedi education, she could be so innocent. He's a politician. Politicians are never trustworthy.

Nikolai closed his eyes.

So I shouldn't trust you? You're a politician.

I never said that. I'm the epitome of trustworthiness.

Sure, she's drawling, and I'm a Sith Lord.

Nikolai pretended not to have heard Tamar's comment.

"Prepare to make the jump to hyperspace!" he barked suddenly, making everyone around him jump. He shoved all the memories to the back of his mind - no use right now, no use right now-

"We can't, sir."

Something froze in his veins, spreading through his chest to lay its chilly fingers on his still-beating heart. They squeezed it tightly, a vice; he was sure he felt his heartbeat stutter for a moment. "Why not?"

"That blast earlier took out our hyperdrive," his aide explained. "The astromechs are wheeling out there trying to fix it, but-" The ship rocked underneath them; the aide fought to regain his balance, "-we're under attack by a squadron of TIE fighters. They keep picking the droids off one by one. My assumption is that they're trying to take us in alive."

There was no need to elaborate. When it came to the Empire, alive meant breathing. Meant torture and interrogation and pain and willing to do anything to make it stop-

Tamar voiced Nikolai's own question aloud: "Who can fly and shoot well enough to pick off the droids without destroying the ship and killing us?"

The thing was, Nikolai already thought he knew the answer.

Out of the viewport, he watched the squadron of regular TIEs congregate into attack formation a little way away. And they were led by a pilot flying a TIE Advanced.

Those ships were expensive, high-calibre, rare. And the only person who flew one that he knew of was the Commander of the Imperial Fleet herself.

"Alina's on that ship," he found himself saying. Tamar's mouth flattened into a grim line.

"Oh."

No flare of hope. No change in stature. Tamar had seen what Alina had done to Rebels - had seen her slaughter Nadia, one of the last remaining Jedi, in cold blood. She harboured no desperate hopes that Alina being behind the mask would change anything.

But Nikolai did.

Against all rationality, against all sense, Nikolai did.

Because Tamar hadn't been on Coruscant in the months before the end. She hadn't seen how hard Alina had taken Mal's death, nor how it had been Supreme Chancellor Aleksander Morozova himself who'd taken her under his wing and tried to comfort her, make her feel less alone.

The Jedi hadn't trusted her and her emotional ways - had alienated her because of them.

Nikolai had been back and forth, back and forth from his home planet of Naboo - he'd been too busy to make time for her.

But kind, noble, wise Morozova had found a way to make that time for her, and checked up on her, reminded her that he still cared, even if no one else seemed to.

Nikolai had been thinking about this ever since Zenik had dropped the bombshell of Koroleva's identity. And that seemed to be all it boiled done to:

No one else seemed to care.

No one else was there for her, checked in on her, tried to tell her that it would be okay. So all she had was the company of Morozova - a Sith Lord, their future Emperor - and her own fearful, embittered feelings. Ripe for the Dark Side pickings.

Alina had thought she was alone.

Nikolai wished he could have told her she wasn't.

He supposed it was too late now anyway. Alina Starkiller, the beloved Chosen One of the Jedi, was lost.

But some part of him still insisted that lost didn't mean gone forever.

He opened his eyes.

I'm the epitome of trustworthiness.

And I'm a Sith Lord.

"Please," he whispered, so quietly he wasn't even sure if Tamar heard him. He didn't know whom he was talking to - didn't know if anyone would hear him. Didn't know if the Force would grant him this small mercy, for once: to let her hear him. Hear him say everything he should have said before.

You're not alone.

I'm sorry.

I miss Mal too.

I'm here for you.

The words crowded together in his head - so much to say, and only one mouth to say it with. He took a deep breath.

High, spirited laughter. That's not how the Force works!

He hoped it was. He hoped it was. . .

"Alina," he whispered, "please don't do this."

The shape of the TIE Advanced turned toward the ship.

Why does a scavenger know how to fly?

Why does a senator ask silly questions?"

"Alina," he repeated. "Please."