Journey to Star Wars: The Force Awakens Lost Stars (45 page)

“Ciena!” he shouted, banging his fist against the metal. That was only to take out his frustration, because he knew she couldn’t hear him through the blast doors to the main
bridge. Not only were they too
thick for sound to carry, but they also couldn’t be destroyed by blasters or lasers, not even by a thermal detonator. She had sealed out every possible invader,
including him.

But there were only so many ways for a captain to seal the blast doors.

Thane realized he knew which way Ciena would choose; he’d heard her explain, once. She would use the captain’s-word method. Now the blast
doors were permanently shut to anyone who
didn’t know the word or phrase she had chosen to lock herself in.

He leaned his forehead against the metal and put his hand to the manual entry panel. An automated voice said, “State the password.”

Leaning down to the speaker, Thane whispered, “Look through my eyes.”

C
IENA BENT OVER the navigation station, one hand splayed across her aching abdomen, the other resting on the controls. The autonav system had
repeatedly attempted
to override her commands, but she’d finally managed to shut it down. Now all she had to do was wait.

She stepped back and sank into her chair. On the viewscreen ahead, the stars had been erased; nothing remained but the sandy surface of Jakku. With every second, the view of the world below
became clearer. Ciena watched shadows expand into deserts and mountains. Sensors began to flare red,
warning her of atmosphere breach. She ignored them.

At one point her vision blurred. When she lifted her hand to her face, her fingers came away wet. Ciena blinked quickly to clear her eyes. When her end came, she would not flinch. She
wouldn’t turn away. It was the last experience she would ever have, and she intended to be fully present for every single moment, even the pain.

To die
with honor—no one could ask for more—

The bridge’s blast doors slid open.

Ciena jumped to her feet. By instinct she reached for her blaster, but no Star Destroyer captain carried one on the bridge. How could anyone have gotten in?

Then she saw Thane.

The one person in the Rebellion—in the
entire galaxy
—who could have guessed the right words to say,
Ciena thought in a daze,
and
of course he’s here.

Maybe she was dreaming, or hallucinating. Her brain had conjured up an image of Thane so she wouldn’t believe she had to die alone. He even wore a mourning band around one bicep, grieving
like one of the kindred for a tragedy that had yet to come.

But then he breathed out in relief, a sound so subtle and yet familiar that it erased all doubt. This was real. This
was happening.

“Ciena.” Thane began toward her, then stopped when she took a step back. He paused and lifted his hands as if to show he held no weapon…but she could see the blaster strapped
to his side. “It’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“I’m not leaving.” The words seemed to come from a very great distance, as if she were hearing them instead of speaking them. “I’ll stay
with my ship.”

“You know, we can have a long talk about honor and duty later. Right now, we need to get the hell off this thing before we’re in full-on atmospheric entry.”

Escape pods could handle planetary landings, but launching within the atmosphere was hazardous. Already the temperature readings outside the hull were climbing dramatically. Ciena felt her pulse
quicken with fear—not
for herself. “Thane, go to the nearest escape pod.”

He lifted his chin, like the stubborn, prideful boy he’d been so long ago. “Not without you.”

Anger flared in her. “You realize I ought to arrest you right now? Or shoot you?”

“We’re kind of outside the regulations here already.” Thane held out his hand to her, but she took another step away from him. Less than two meters separated
them now. To
either side of them, on the countless viewscreens and sensors, alarm lights flashed and scenes of battle and bloodshed flickered.

“You have to go! Don’t you understand I’m trying to save your life?”

“I’m trying to save yours!” He had looked at her that pleadingly, that desperately, when he had first tried to talk her into deserting the Empire with him. For Thane, perhaps,
nothing had changed in the five years since. She felt so much older. So much sadder. Hollowed out. But he kept standing there, his hand outstretched, believing he could rescue them both.
“Come on, Ciena. We don’t have much time.”

Thane didn’t see that there was no time left for her, none at all.

What have they done to her?

Ciena stood before him, so thin that she looked as if she
could be crushed in a man’s fist. Her uniform hung on her, and that combined with the frantically blinking warning lights going
off all around them made the scene seem more like some ugly parody of an Imperial bridge than the real thing. What scared Thane most, though, was the blankness in her eyes. Nothing of Ciena’s
spirit shone through; he saw only anger and despair.

But his Ciena was
still in there. He knew that only because she wanted to die rather than keep serving the Empire.

“Listen to me,” Thane said, trying hard to sound calm even as the
Inflictor
shuddered with its first real brush with Jakku’s atmosphere. The ride would only get rougher.
“You don’t owe the Empire a damned thing. They don’t deserve your loyalty, and they definitely don’t deserve your life.”

“You don’t even know what loyalty means.”

“The hell I don’t! Ciena, if I weren’t loyal to you, would I be here?”

The ship shuddered again. Thane stumbled slightly to one side, and Ciena had to grab her chair to remain upright. She shouted, “Thane, you have to go! You have to get in an escape pod
now!”

“I won’t leave you here.” He realized it could come to that—dying by Ciena’s side,
here, today, rather than escaping with his own life.

Thane wanted to survive. As much as he loved Ciena, he knew from the past year that he was capable of going on after her death, even healing and finding peace.

But he didn’t want to live as the man who had left her behind to die.

He repeated, “I won’t leave you.”

“Please!” Ciena had begun to shake. “Please don’t make me responsible
for your death. All I ever asked, in all those battles, was not to be the one who killed
you.”

“I asked for it to be you. Because we’re bound, always, you and I—in life or in death. You know it as well as I do. That’s why we have to get off this ship
together
.”

Ciena remained silent for a long moment. The ship tilted to one side, artificial gravity warring with the real thing tugging
them toward Jakku. On the viewscreen, the image of the planet’s
surface slowly swirled; the ship had begun spiraling down.

Then she took one step toward him, and another. Thane could have wept with relief. “Good. That’s right. Come with me.”

She stood before him at last. Their eyes met. And Ciena punched him in the gut, hard.

As Thane sprawled on the floor, Ciena grabbed his blaster
from its holster. She stood above him and he stared at her, trying to catch the breath she’d knocked out of him.
“Is that it?” he said. “You’re going to shoot me?”

“Of course not,” she said. “I’m going to stun you and drag you to an escape pod myself. But—before that—you know I’m only doing this to save you,
don’t—?”

Thane kicked her in the leg so firmly that she stumbled back more
than a meter before falling on her back. The blaster skidded across the tilted floor, sliding far away from them both, and Ciena
had to struggle to get back to her feet.

He was up, too, in fighting stance, blue eyes blazing. “You want to play this rough? Fine. We’ll play rough.”

One memory flashed in her mind, of how they’d met back when they were children—fighting for each other.

It looked like they were going to die the same way.

Ciena ran at him, and he couldn’t dodge her well enough to keep her from tackling him. As she slammed his head back onto the mesh floor, she shouted, “Get your rebel ass off my
bridge!”

Thane threw her off, pushing her sideways. Even as she rolled against the wall, he said, “I’m going to rescue you whether you like it or not.”

Didn’t
he understand? Didn’t he see? Why was he trying to steal her one chance to escape this hell and die with her honor? It was as if Thane had never known her at all.

She kicked savagely at him; the heel of her boot caught his jaw and sent him reeling. Ciena scrambled to her feet, which was when she caught a glimpse of the viewscreen—the image of Jakku
was terrifyingly close, but it began to
blur and blacken. The outside sensors were burning off from the heat of atmospheric entry. The windows were now brilliant orange, cutting off their view as
the ship was sealed in flame. The warring factions in the atmosphere and on the ground would be able to see the
Inflictor
gashing a streak of fire across the sky like a meteor.

Thane grabbed Ciena’s leg and pulled her to the floor; the
impact of her fall sent new pain stabbing into her gut wound. Even as Ciena gasped for breath, Thane seized the advantage,
pinning both her wrists with his own. “Just come with me,” he said, panting. “You have to come with me
now
.”

She brought her leg up to knee him in the side and freed her hands. Ciena wanted to tell him to stop being an idiot, to run for a pod now, because it would be
too late soon, if it wasn’t
already—but all she could say was, “Let me go.”

Then she brought her fists together and swung them upward into his jaw. If she had to knock him out the hard way, so be it.

Even as pain splintered through his face, Thane saw the viewscreen blur and go black. They were out of time.

So he did something he would never, ever have believed he could do. He hit
Ciena back.

But Ciena was a small woman, and he was a large man. The same blow to the jaw that had made him stagger sideways laid her flat. Guilt lashed him, but he couldn’t stop, not now—

She shoved herself upward; her shoulder hit his midsection under his ribs and stole his breath. As they both crashed into a control panel, he thought,
Anyone watching would think we’re
trying to kill
each other, not save each other.

Power began to blink off and on as more components caught fire on entry. He heard a deep, terrible groan—the massive metal framework of the Star Destroyer shifting as the heat hit the
melting point. Through the few small windows he could see nothing of Jakku or the sky, only flame.

Ciena pushed him away from her just as the floor tilted again. Now they
were both sprawling, unable to stay upright. Thane scrambled to get a handhold on one of the chairs, a strut, anything
that would help him up—

—when he saw a flash of black metal sliding along the wall.

He threw himself at it. Even as he rolled, he heard Ciena’s boots on the deck as she somehow got back on her feet. She ran toward him, the thumping of her steps faster, just as Thane
got
the blaster in his hands.

One flick of the thumb, set to stun and—now!

He glimpsed one second of horror on Ciena’s face before the blue bolt hit her. She collapsed to the floor so heavily that for an instant Thane feared he’d accidentally set the
blaster to kill. But when he crawled across the tilting floor to reach her, he saw her chest rise and fall.

“I’ll ask forgiveness
later,” he whispered. On his knees, Thane managed to roll Ciena over and pull her body over his shoulders. He tasted blood as he staggered to his feet and
headed for the nearest escape pod.

His breakneck ride through the service tunnels had refreshed Thane’s memory of Large Vessel Design class, so he was pretty sure he knew where the pods were. What he didn’t know was
whether or not he
could even get one to launch. If the metal clamps had melted in the heat of atmospheric entry, the escape pod would be useless except as a place to die.

And of course the fleeing Imperials and escaping New Republic soldiers might have launched all the pods already—

Go, go, go, go, go,
he chanted inside his head as he stumble-ran through the corridors of the Star Destroyer. The first pod
location he reached showed empty; that one had been shot into
space long ago. But just as Thane felt panic clutching at his mind, he got to a second location and saw an escape pod still there, waiting.

He hit the control panel with his knee, and the doors spiraled open. It was one of the smaller pods, but two people would fit. Thane dumped Ciena inside; as he crawled through the entry tube
to
join her, the lights suddenly went out. He was in pitch blackness, save for the scarlet firelight from the small porthole in the escape pod, which flickered across Ciena’s fallen body.

The power was gone. Would the doors close? Would the pod launch? If the explosive latches had melted instead of blowing, they were sunk.

Thane slammed his hand against the launch switch. He’d never
seen anything more beautiful than the doors spiraling shut. As they locked, a terrible deep groan shuddered through the ship,
like the dying roar of some massive beast.