Chapter 22 - Rally

Sound booms reached Edric's ears as the three of them turned to exit the farmhouse. Objects in the living room and kitchen trembled in their place as the earth shook from the approaching fleet. The rumble became a roar when their trio emerged from the house and joined the pair of Max and Lyra who were already staring skyward. In the clouds, ships began to pierce through like a meteor shower—a ragtag fleet of vessels breaking the atmosphere in tight formation, some faster than others.

Edric counted them as they descended: two modified LAAT gunships, their hulls scarred but proudly bearing the marks of the Partisans covering the original insignia of the Republic, a squadron of Z-95 headhunters that had clearly seen better days, and at least half a dozen other craft of varying sizes and origin. Each one bore custom markings and equipment, and Edric wondered if those were a reflection of their owners—perhaps testament to the resourcefulness of Rono's crew, a fleet cobbled together from the scraps of war.

The sight of the LAATs sent an unexpected ripple through Edric, memories flashing unbidden across his mind. Tarnos. The landing zone, the shouts of his clone comrades, and the deafening roar of war. The engines of the gunships back then had the same sound, the same vibrations in his chest. And just as quickly, another thought hit him and he wondered what happened to the clone he befriended, Lokk. His throat tightened, but he shook the memory away, knowing due to Order 66, that trooper would shoot him on sight if they would meet again. There wasn't time for ghosts now anyways.

The ships settled into a hovering pattern above the sea of grass, their engines kicking up clouds of dust and whipping the tall strands into a frenzy. The lead vessel, a battered CR90 corvette that looked like it had survived the Clone Wars by sheer stubbornness, touched down not too far from the landing pad where the Beast was resting. The corvette's landing struts groaned as they took on the full weight of the vessel.

Edric noticed Sid's eyes widened, his mouth falling open. "Whoa…" he muttered, craning his neck to take it all in. "I've never seen this many Z-95s in one place. And those LAATs! They look banged up, but—stars, look at the mods on those things!"

He was clearly impressed by the fleet even though they all looked like they were due for a thorough maintenance. But looks could be deceiving, Edric had to remind himself, knowing that the Beast wasn't exactly the newest model either, and she could still bite like a nexu when it mattered the most.

"At least Rono took our request seriously," Edwin added, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Edric glanced at Lyra then. She was standing a few steps ahead, her eyes gleaming with pride as she watched the fleet settle into the grassland. When she turned and caught his gaze, she offered him a bright smile. A warmth spread through Edric and he reflexively returned the gesture, his lips curving just slightly upward. When she was near, the constant storm inside him calmed, as if she were able to anchor him to a mesmerizing shore. He wasn't sure if this was love, after all he had no reference for such feelings, but whatever it was, it terrified and thrilled him in equal measure. But there was something else, a voice again that belonged to the past, its whispers raking on his skin painfully like long nails. That he didn't deserve her. That, just perhaps, she didn't truly feel the same way. Even if the Force told otherwise.

He wished they had more time to figure out what it all meant, but the looming mission cast its shadow over everything. Still, watching her now, in her green battle armor that matched her eyes' color, stirred something in Edric's gut and he felt like melting.

The CR90's boarding ramp lowered with a hiss, pulling him back up from his haze. It released a swirl of dust, momentarily obscuring the figures emerging from within. When the fog cleared, Rono stepped forward, his red Duros eyes gleaming as he surveyed the area. He was flanked by a motley crew of humans and aliens, each clad in mismatched armor that looked as cobbled together as their fleet. They carried an assortment of weapons—everything from blasters to vibroblades.

His crew had already sprung into action. Some dispersed to their ships, running equipment checks and prepping weapons, while others set up portable scanners and communication arrays in the grass. The scene reminded Edric of clone troopers preparing for battle, though these fighters carried themselves with a different kind of discipline—one born from choice rather than programming.

Rono's smirk widened when his gaze landed on Max. "Nice place you've got here," he called out, gesturing broadly toward the farmhouse. "Bit too rustic for my taste, but I suppose it beats that heap of junk you call a ship."

Max crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow, his mouth twitching as if holding back a grin. "At least my 'heap of junk' doesn't look like it was assembled by Jawas after they had one too many drinks."

Here we go again, Edric sighed internally seeing the two old friends 'catching up'.

Rono pretended to look hurt, but then a grin escaped his facade and closed the gap to give a brief hug to Max.

"Should we give them a moment?" Lyra whispered to Edric as she stepped back to be beside him, her voice laced with dry humor as she leaned closer.

Her closeness sent a shiver down Edric's spine and his hand moved involuntarily toward hers, but then he caught himself and pulled it back. In the end, he smirked, murmuring back, "They might tear each other apart."

As they pulled away, Rono's sharp red eyes scanned the group, taking in each member with a flick of his gaze. His brow arched briefly as it landed on Edric and Lyra, clearly noticing the close proximity between them that made Edric lean slightly away from the girl. He cursed himself for being that obvious just a split-second later. A knowing smirk played at the edges of Rono's lips too. "Lyra," he said warmly, "still keeping questionable company, I see."

Lyra tilted her head. "You'd be disappointed if I didn't," she replied with a grin.

Rono chuckled, then turned his attention to Max with mock severity. "And I'm still pissed at you for poaching her. You could've at least let me keep my second-in-command."

"Hey, that wasn't me!" Max shot back, holding up his hands in mock surrender before pointing at Edric. "Blame the kid. He's the one who worked his Jedi mind tricks on her."

Edric rolled his eyes. "First of all, I don't need Jedi mind tricks," that didn't come out the way he had hoped, but it was too late. "Second, I didn't 'poach' anyone. Lyra makes her own decisions," he said and gave a nod to Lyra. She only raised her eyebrows at him. Edric cut himself off from the Force briefly, he did not want to sense any of her embarrassment on top of his own.

Rono gave him an exaggerated smirk. "Oh, I'm sure she does." His gaze lingered on Edric and Lyra just long enough to make the former Padawan feel the heat rising to his cheeks too. But before Edric could muster a retort, Rono had already moved on, his attention now caught by Sid.

He clapped the boy on the shoulder, making him jump slightly. "And here's your new recruit. The resident genius." He gave Max a pointed look. "You know, that offer to join my crew still stands, Sid. We've got actual working ships that could use your talents."

Sid opened his mouth, clearly flustered, "I—uh—"

"Hey!" Max interrupted, stepping forward and waving a hand in Rono's face. "Back off, Bone. Go find your own mechanic."

"I'm just saying, he's wasting his potential on your rust bucket of a ship."

"Rust bucket?!" Max exclaimed. "You take that back, or I swear I'll strap you to the Beast's sublight engines and make you part of the rust."

Rono threw his head back, a gravelly laugh bursting from his throat and so did the rest of the group. Lyra was the first to crack, letting out a snort that quickly turned into full-blown laughter. Sid followed, practically doubling over as he clutched his stomach. Even Edric couldn't hold back, a chuckle escaping his lips that turned into a deep laugh, the nerves slightly lifting like steam venting from a boiling pot.

Rono's eyes then flicked to Edwin, who stood silently at the edge of the group, his arms crossed and his expression as telling as a durasteel wall. The two exchanged a curt nod—civil but distant.

Edric couldn't help but notice the distance they both kept. He had hoped his brother could be a little more trusting, especially with allies like Rono. In the past few days, Edwin had started opening up, at least to their small crew, but with outsiders—even friends like Rono—he still kept his guard firmly in place, like a soldier who'd been burned too many times to take unnecessary risks. Their legacy could change the fate of the galaxy, but these people were still fighting against an Empire that had infinitely more resources than any of them. And they weren't afraid of helping them either.

Edric glanced at his brother and gave him a faint nudge with his elbow, whispering, "You know, he's on our side."

"I know," Edwin replied quietly, his voice clipped. "But we shouldn't waste time with pleasantries."

Edric sighed but decided to let it go. Rono, sensing the shift in the conversation, clapped his hands together. "Alright, enough with the warm and fuzzy reunion. Let's talk strategy. We've got a fortress to take and not a whole lot of time to do it," he said then pointed with his thumb to the corvette behind him. "My squad leaders are waiting aboard. Shall we?"

They followed Rono up the corvette's ramp, the metal groaning beneath their boots. The ship's interior was a maze of exposed pipes and cables, emergency lighting casting everything in a dim red glow. Signs of hasty repairs were everywhere. Welded plates covering battle damage, jury-rigged systems held together with spare parts and miles of tapes. Yet despite its weathered state, Edric noted there was something reliable about the vessel, like an old soldier who refused to quit.

The command center was nestled deep within the ship's belly, a cramped room dominated by a large holotable. Star maps and tactical displays flickered in the air, casting blue shadows across the faces of the squad leaders already gathered around it. As Edric entered behind the others, he could feel a certain buzz building in the room, the Force only emphasizing it to the level he could almost taste it.

He looked around at the squad leaders gathered near the holotable. They were as varied as the patchwork fleet Rono had assembled. A towering Aqualish with a cybernetic left arm stood with arms crossed, while beside him, a wiry Bothan examined a datapad with intense focus. Near the holotable's controls, a scarred human woman with close-cropped gray hair adjusted the display settings.

Rono cleared his throat to draw attention. "Alright, everyone, time to meet the team. These are the folks who'll be risking their necks with us. Max, Edwin, Edric, Sid, and, of course, Lyra—though most of you know her already."

"And the squad," Rono said, gesturing to the assembled group. "Meet Krax," he nodded to the Aqualish, "best pilot this side of the Core. He'll be leading our air assault." The Aqualish's cybernetic eye whirred as he sized up the newcomers.

Rono moved on. "Ursk," he said, nodding to the Bothan, "is our resident slicer and comms specialist. If it's got a signal, he'll find a way to crack it. Though," Rono added with a wry glance at Lyra, "not quite as fast as our mutual friend here." Ursk scoffed at the Duros' comment, clearly hurt by being only second best in their leader's eyes.

"Commander Serra," the gray-haired woman gave a curt nod, her bearing suggesting formal military training. "Formerly of the Republic Naval Intelligence, now she keeps this rabble in line."

After finishing up, Rono turned back to Edric's group. The former Padawan stole a brief glance across the faces of their new friends. They all looked disappointed in a way, at least that was what the Force broadcasted to him from them. Maybe they had expected more than seemingly green kids, a man that looked like a brute and a middle-aged bounty hunter to go to battle with. Even if two of them were wielding lightsabers and could also use the Force, they were still outnumbered and that meant they would prefer experience over youth. Hopefully though, they would prove them wrong.

"Now that the introductions are out of the way," Rono said, clapping his hands, pulling Edric back to reality, "let's get to business." He gestured toward the holotable, and Serra keyed a few controls, bringing up a detailed projection of the Imperial fortress.

The image floated above the table, the stronghold's jagged towers and imposing walls highlighted in stark relief. Red lines marked energy signatures, shield coverage, and weapons placements. Two large anti-air cannons sat upon the two towers hugging the tallest third one in the center. Shield generators were scattered across the top of the walls, covering most of the building. The assembled group leaned in, studying the display as holographic pixels moved about, simulating the troops' patrols.

"We've been monitoring their comms after we sent a Z-95 to recon the area from orbit," Serra spoke first, her voice carrying the clipped accent of a Core World native. "Their patrol patterns, shield rotations, everything. What we found is... strange."

Edric leaned closer, his brow furrowing. Something about the deployment felt off, though he couldn't immediately place it. Beside him, Edwin tilted his head, his eyes scanning the data.

"Their forces are spread thin," Edwin observed, his tone calm but pointed. "Too thin for a facility this important."

"Exactly," Serra replied with a stiff nod. "Either they're overconfident, or—"

"Or it's a trap," Max finished with a scoff.

"Could be both," Rono said. "But that might work in our favor, we still have the original plan, which could work. They think they're untouchable with the natural defenses around." His red eyes gleamed. "There's something else I wanted to discuss with you," he continued, glancing at Max, his expression shifting, and Edric could sense some reluctance not just in the Force but even in his tone. "Had a transmission from Saw while en route. He wants us to level the whole facility."

The room fell silent for a moment. That wasn't exactly on the cards when they talked about the initial strategy. Edric exchanged a glance with Edwin and although he knew from Max the Partisans had an interesting way of dealing with Imperial targets, it still sounded a bit too drastic.

"Level it?" Max asked, leaning forward. "That wasn't part of the plan if I remember right."

"Plans change," Rono said. "Saw thinks this fortress is too valuable for the Empire to leave standing, especially if we risk our asses. Which means we need more than just a distraction." He gestured to Lyra and Max. "You two will need to go with the big guys. While they handle their... personal business or whatever, you'll disable the shields and anti-air defenses."

Something cold settled in Edric's stomach. He had faced down armies of battle droids, survived Order 66, but the thought of Lyra infiltrating that fortress made his throat close up. He could already see the dangers waiting inside with dark corridors where a single misstep meant death, Imperial patrols with itchy trigger fingers, and somewhere in those shadows, Kael himself.

He wanted to protest, to suggest another way, but he caught Lyra's eye. The determined set of her jaw, the quiet confidence in her stance—she wasn't some helpless civilian to be protected. She was a warrior in her own right. Still, it took everything he had to swallow his objections and simply nod.

"That would give us a clean shot at the whole facility," Krax added, his cybernetic eye whirring as he studied the layout.

Commander Serra nodded. "With those defenses down, we can turn this diversion into a proper siege."

"Assuming we can get in and disable the shields and guns," Lyra said, studying the schematic.

"That's where those caverns come in again," Rono replied. He highlighted a network of tunnels beneath the fortress. "Our scans show at least three possible entry points. One of them has to be good enough," he pointed at the middle chamber.

Edwin's expression hardened. "We'll need to move fast. The longer we're inside—"

"The more likely they'll detect us," Max finished, following up with a sigh. "Story of my life, kids."

"You could take Drone with you," Sid suddenly spoke, and took a step forward with his droid hovering above his right shoulder, mainly directing his words at Edric. "I'll show you on the way. He can scan the caves and quickly let you know which one to take through my goggles," he explained, knocking on the lenses. Edric nodded at him with narrowing eyes. That was not a bad idea at all. "And when inside, he could help alert you to patrols too," he added, turning to Max.

"Good thinking, kid," the bounty hunter thanked him.

"What about getting out?" Edric asked, his voice sharper than he intended. The image of Lyra and Max trapped in that fortress, surrounded by Imperial forces, made his stomach twist. His own survival felt secondary—if he fell trying to stop Kael, so be it. But he couldn't bear the thought of leading his friends into a death trap when this was his legacy.

"Sid will remain in orbit with the Beast," Rono said, his tone matter-of-fact, as if their escape was just another line item on a checklist.

Sid stepped forward again. "I've made some modifications to help with that," he said, pulling up the Beast's schematics on his datapad. "Reinforced the shields, added some sensor bafflers to mask our approach signature too. Even managed to boost the sublight engine efficiency by about twelve percent." He glanced at Max. "Though I had to, uh, borrow some parts from the secondary systems."

Max crossed his arms. "Define 'borrow.'"

"Nothing critical!" Sid assured quickly. "Just the backup life support and—"

"The what?!"

"It'll be fine! We just... shouldn't stay in space too long if the main system fails." Sid's enthusiasm was undampened by Max's glare. "But the Beast can take more punishment now, which we might need for the extraction if things don't go too well."

Rono stared at Sid for a second with a raised eyebrow then shrugged and gestured towards Max. "I've told you you're wasting his talents."

"And I've told you to kriffing drop it," Max replied without missing a beat.

Rono flashed his teeth in a grin before turning back to the boy. "He'll be ready to pick you up at the drop-off point once we clear the place out."

"And if something goes wrong?" Edric pressed, his eyes flickering briefly to Lyra before meeting Rono's gaze. "If the Empire has more forces than we expect, if they can't reach the extraction point—"

"Then we improvise," Rono replied with another shrug, as if the question weren't worth entertaining. "But let's not let it come to that, alright? Keep your comms open." His tone turned firm, his sharp red eyes locking on Edric's. "Timing is everything. No heroics. No going off script. Got it?"

"Sure," Edric muttered, though a flicker of flame remained in his chest as he crossed his arms. This time, he didn't want to let the fire spread, instead he took a deep breath and reached out to the Force around Dantooine, extinguishing his anxiety.

Commander Serra adjusted the display again, expanding the holo to reveal streaks of light representing projected flight paths in and out of the valley where the fortress was nestled. "The squadron of Z-95s will be rotating in threes, flying in every 15 seconds to draw their attention and keep it," she explained then zoomed out, highlighting key areas around the fortress. "Meanwhile, the two LAATs will maintain a holding pattern above the valley, waiting for an opening. When the opportunity presents itself, they'll drop ground troops here—" she marked a zone near the outer walls where larger boulders offered natural cover, "—and here."

Ursk, the wiry Bothan intelligence officer, stepped forward, his fur rippling slightly as he spoke. "I'll be in my ship on the slope of the volcano across from the fortress," he said, his voice calm but firm. "From there, I'll work on slicing into their communications network. Once I'm in, I'll scramble as much as I can—block their reinforcements, delay their orders, disrupt their defenses."

Edric, however, found himself biting the inside of his lip, his gaze lingering on the holo projection of the fortress. The plan was sound, but it was also incredibly dangerous. Too dangerous. He glanced around at the gathered faces—the scarred, battle-worn veterans of Rono's Partisans. These people were risking their lives, for the faint hope of striking a blow against the Empire. A blow that, in the grand scheme of things, might only be a pinprick. The Partisans had no guarantee of survival, no promise that this mission would turn the tide of anything. Yet here they were, willing to charge into the fire for a cause that wasn't even entirely their own.

Edric cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "This... this is a lot of risk for your people. I just want you all to know that I appreciate what you're doing. We all do."

Rono turned his red, gleaming eyes toward Edric, his expression unreadable. "We don't fight because it's safe, kid. We fight because someone has to."

Edwin stepped forward, breaking the tension. "We should go as soon as possible," he said, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of urgency. "Get some rest on the way. We'll need it."

"I'm with you, big guy," Rono nodded and so did the squad leaders. "Let's have our comlinks open. My guys are filling up the Beast with supplies as we speak. We'll leave in two hours."

Upon Rono's words, the group started to disperse.

The next two hours passed in a blur. Edric watched the organized chaos unfold around him as everyone prepared for departure. The Partisan crews moved like a well oiled machine, loading crates of supplies that were mostly ammo and weapons into the ships like ants preparing for winter. There was a cacophony of noises—the whine of repulsorlifts, the clatter of equipment, voices calling out instructions in various languages.

In the Beast's cargo hold, Max was seated on a crate, methodically checking his blaster and the assortment of hidden weapons strapped across his usual attire of a leather jacket and some armor underneath it. Each one was tested, adjusted, and reholstered with the instincts that came from years of dangerous jobs. He looked up as Edric entered, flashing that signature mischievous grin that somehow managed to be equal parts reassuring and infuriating.

"Got the nerves, kid?" Max asked, his voice light, but probing. His sharp eyes, however, saw right through Edric's weak attempts at composure.

Edric forced a lopsided grin, scratching the back of his neck. "Nerves? Me? Nah. Just, you know, saving the entire galaxy. No big deal." He added a weak chuckle that did little to mask the tremor in his voice.

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but let it slide for now. "Right." He chuckled and went back to checking the power levels on his blaster. "Don't worry, kid. Worst case, we go out in a blaze of glory. And by glory, I mean screaming."

Edric rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Leave it to Max to lighten the mood, even when they were about to walk straight into the sarlacc pit.

His own preparations were far simpler. His yellow-bladed lightsaber hung prominently at his belt, no longer concealed within the holster of his blaster. There was no point in hiding it where they were going—it would see more use than the blaster anyway. The familiar weight of the hilt was both a comfort and a reminder of the responsibility resting on his shoulders. He found himself touching it more often than he should, his fingers brushing against the smooth metal and leather-bound grip. It was like an unconscious reflex, as if checking it was still there would somehow ground him.

The kyber crystal inside resonated faintly with his emotions, a hum only he could hear. It was steady, soothing, like the rhythm of a heartbeat, but it also carried a certain sadness—perhaps echoing his own doubts. The connection was subtle but ever-present, a quiet song of his bond with the Force.

Max caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and smirked. "You keep petting that thing like it's a lucky charm, but you know it doesn't do the work for you, right?"

Edric exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. "I know, I know. Just… feels like I need all the luck I can get right now."

Max stood and slung his blaster over his shoulder, stepping closer and patted the boy on one side, his hand heavy but reassuring with a tight squeeze.

"We'll be fine, kid. Now, go get your head on straight. Can't have you turning into space dust on my watch. I've got a reputation to maintain."

Edric chuckled despite himself. "Wouldn't want to tarnish that, would we?"

Max grinned, stepping back toward the crate he'd been sitting on. "Go practice swinging that laser stick of yours or meditate or whatever it is you Jedi do. I'll be here preparing to save your sorry ass when you inevitably get into trouble."

"I'm not a Jedi," Edric added and gave him a mock salute, unable to suppress a smirk. "Wouldn't dream of stealing your thunder anyway, Max."

The bounty hunter waved him off with an exaggerated gesture, already focused back on his weapon.

As Edric turned away, his gaze landed on Lyra, who sat cross-legged near the far corner of the cargo hold. Her rifle rested across her lap as she carefully cleaned it. The scent of weapon oil and the faint metallic tang of ammunition filled the air. She looked more ready than Edric felt he could ever be—calm, focused, and methodical. But even so, through the Force, he could sense an undercurrent of unease beneath her steady movements. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was there, like a faint ripple on the surface of a still lake.

"Hey," he said softly, approaching her. She glanced up, her dark green eyes meeting his.

"Hey yourself," Lyra replied, offering a small smile before turning her attention back to her rifle. "Max gave some fatherly advice? Thought he was going to lecture you all day."

Edric chuckled as he dropped down to sit on the floor across from her, legs crossed. "Kind of? Pretty sure he could talk for days if he wanted to."

"Max has his moments," she agreed, tightening a screw on her rifle before setting it aside. She leaned back slightly, studying him. "You okay?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he said, watching her hands move with a slight tremble over the weapon. "You seem... tense."

"Says the man who hasn't stopped fidgeting with his lightsaber since the briefing." Her eyes sparkled with gentle teasing, and Edric realized his hand was indeed resting on the hilt again. Kriff.

"That obvious, huh?" He forced himself to let go of the weapon, but his fingers felt restless without something to hold, so he just awkwardly clasped his hands together.

"Only to someone who's been watching," she said softly, then quickly added, "I mean, someone who's fought beside you before." A slight flush colored her cheeks as she focused intently on reassembling her rifle.

Edric's heart did a strange flutter in his chest. "Well, I'm glad you'll be watching my back in there," he managed, then winced at how weird it sounded.

Lyra glanced up, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips, and Edric caught the faintest of a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Just your back?"

Before Edric could stammer out a response, Max's voice rang out from across the hold. "If you two are done making eyes at each other, we've got some supplies to load!"

Edric felt his face burn as he jumped to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in the process. Lyra laughed—a bright, genuine sound that made his embarrassment worth it.

"Coming!" she called back, then looked at Edric. "We should probably..."

"Yeah," he agreed quickly. "We should."

As they moved to help with the loading, their hands brushed briefly, sending electricity through Edric's skin. He tried to focus on the task ahead, but his mind kept drifting back to that moment, to her laugh, to the way she had looked at him.

Just as they managed to move the last of the supply crates into place, Edwin entered the Beast with a small pack slung over his shoulder, his expression solemn.

"Everything secure?" Edwin asked, setting his pack down.

"Think so." Edric glanced at his brother. "You ready for this?"

Edwin was quiet for a moment, his hand resting on his hip, close to his own lightsaber hilt. "As ready as I'll ever be. Father would be proud, you know. Of both of us."

The words caught Edric off guard. Before he could respond, Sid burst in, arms full of equipment, nearly dropping half of it as he stumbled up the ramp.

"Sorry! Just need to make a few final adjustments to—" He stopped, looking between the brothers. "Oh, um, am I interrupting something?"

"No," Edwin said, picking up his pack. "I should check the crates are properly secured anyway." He gave Edric a slight nod before heading further inside.

Sid began setting up his equipment at a nearby console, Drone hovering faithfully by his shoulder. "I managed to add a more powerful energy cell to him. He will be able to hover without noise. I've also programmed him to recognize Imperial patrol patterns," he explained excitedly. "He can warn you before you run into any trouble. Well, mostly. I hope." His confidence seemed to waver slightly.

"Hey," Edric said, squeezing one of Sid's arms. "You've done more than enough. We wouldn't have made it this far without you. And when all is done… I was serious when I said we can help you understand the Force better."

The boy brightened at that, then his expression grew serious. "Okay. Just... be careful down there? All of you."

The comm system crackled to life with Rono's voice: "All ships, prepare for takeoff."

"That's our cue," Edric said. "Come on, let's get to the cockpit."

Through the viewport, Edric watched the other ships beginning to lift off—first the Z-95s, then the LAATs, their engines painting the grass golden in the fading light. The corvette rose last, like some ancient beast awakening.

"Show time," Max announced, firing up the Beast's engines. "Everyone strapped in?"

As they broke atmosphere, Edric took one last look at the farmhouse below, its weathered stone glowing amber in the sunset. Everything that had led him here—leaving the Jedi, meeting Max, finding his brother, Lyra—it all seemed to converge on this moment.

"Coordinates locked," Max said, his hands dancing across the controls. "Ready to make the jump."

The stars stretched into lines, and Dantooine, along with any chance of turning back, vanished into the swirling blue of hyperspace.