The Force Awakens (Star Wars) (20 page)

Down again they went as Han and Chewbacca fought to retain control while trying to level off. They almost succeeded. Back again among the trees, Han fluttered the sublight drive while Chewie fought to keep the ship functional. They continued to slow. In the
end, it was the forest that braked them, as hundreds of trees splintered and flew around them. The descending
Falcon
still kept going. Fortunately, the whiteness through which it plowed was composed of relatively fresh snow, not ice. It finally eased to a stop, half buried.

On the surface, all was cold and quiet once again.

Ren struggled to control himself. A great deal of his education
had been devoted to learning how to live and move forward in the absence of emotion. Right now, he needed every bit of that training to stay calm. As bad as had been the girl’s expulsion of his probing, worse was the knowledge she had acquired. At the moment, he did not feel powerful.

He felt diminished.

Becoming aware that an officer was waiting patiently for him to acknowledge his presence,
Ren waved the man forward.

“We have not found the girl yet, sir. The alarm has been propagated throughout the base and all troopers are on alert.”

“Yes.” Ren’s voice was almost indifferent, as if the bulk of his thoughts were elsewhere. He looked at the officer. “The trooper who was on guard?”

“Still being debriefed, sir. He doesn’t remember what happened. One minute he was at his
post, at ease. The next, he found himself in his quarters, changing out of uniform. Initial assessment indicates he is telling the truth.” The officer hesitated. “If you would wish to try stronger methods I can…”

“No—no. Keep questioning him. Just—questioning. He may remember something.” His tone darkened. “The girl. She’s here somewhere. There’s nowhere for her to go. When you find her, bring
her…” His voice drifted away, as did his attention.

The officer waited: to be questioned further, to be given additional instructions, to be brusquely dismissed. But Kylo Ren simply stared into the distance, seeing something that was not apparent to the officer, and maintained his silence.

There was no movement in the forest. A few flakes of snow drifting down made no sound. In the
midst of the trees, at the terminus of a very isolated and very linear disaster, rose an unnatural mound piled
high with whiteness. From somewhere within came a groan, deep, reverberant, and disgruntled.

“Oh, yeah?” The voice that responded was sharp and decidedly non-Wookiee in origin. “
You
try it!”

Beneath the snow and within the mound that was the
Millennium Falcon
, sparks erupted in
the passageway behind the cockpit. Having succinctly delivered himself of his opinion of the most recent effort at piloting by the ship’s captain, Chewbacca rose from his seat and headed back to deal with the problem, leaving Finn alone in the cockpit with a brooding Han.

“That should’ve gone better.” Han was studying the readouts that were still functioning. He shook his head, leaning forward
to examine a particular telltale. “That wasn’t supposed to be so rough. Nearly was worse than that.”

Seeing that Han was having a difficult time coming to terms with their arrival, Finn tried to reassure him. “Hey, you just performed the improbable by doing the impossible. It’s not like there was precedent to follow. I mean, I’m not a pilot, but I’ve been around a lot of pilots, and I’ve never
even heard anybody talking about trying what you just did. You did great.” He gestured around them: at the still intact cockpit, at the sky visible through that part of the forward port that wasn’t covered by snow, and at himself.

“We’re down, we’re alive, we’re all in one piece. I don’t understand. What more could you ask for?”

Han’s expression didn’t change as he rose and moved to help
Chewie. “Was a time it wouldn’t have been so rough.”

Not knowing how to respond to that, Finn, wisely, said nothing.

Within the command center on D’Qar, conversation was muted. Officers spoke in whispers, if at all, as everyone waited for word. When it came—no one said “if”—then talk would resume as normal. But for now, no one dared voice what they were thinking. What they feared.

Confirmation would come via a series of hastily linked encrypted hyperspace relays. It would be necessarily condensed, as well as reduced to a mathematical formula to minimize any chance of it being intercepted on its way out. As more and more time passed, initial hope began to flag.

Then Admiral Statura broke the tension, looking up from his console to smile at Leia. “The
Falcon
has landed,
ma’am.”

Moving to his side, she looked at his readouts. What they told wasn’t much, but it was enough. “I wish there was more information. I wish we knew—” She stopped herself. Slipping through the First Order’s planetary shields and landing safely would be worth nothing if the
Falcon
were discovered. She knew there could be no further communication until they had accomplished their task.
“Tell me they’ll get the shields down.”

Statura’s reply was firm. “They’ll get the shields down.”

“That was only marginally convincing,” she told him.

He smiled anew. “That’s what we’re operating on, ma’am. Margin, and a thin one at that.”

She nodded and turned to a controller. “Send off the X-wings.”

“Yes, General!” On the heels of contact with the
Millennium Falcon
, the controller
managed to muster some genuine enthusiasm. The operator seated beside her conveyed the formal order.

“All fighters cleared for takeoff.”

“Go, blue team. Go, red team,” the controller added.

Having been standing by and waiting for the word, the first dozen Resistance fighters to depart were away in an instant. Droids calculated and recalculated approach patterns to the First Order base,
reducing options to those deemed most likely to succeed, while the pilots did their best to restrain themselves and conserve their energy for the actual attack.

In the lead was an X-wing marked with distinctive black patterning. Poe was intent on the instrumentation, while BB-8 attended to matters better left to a mechanical. Behind them, the surface of D’Qar fell rapidly away.

“All teams,
this is Black Leader,” Poe said to the cockpit’s omnipickup, “altitude confirmed. Distance confirmed. Arrival coordinates confirmed.” He activated several controls, and the X-wing’s hyperspace propulsion system prepared to distort space and time. “Hold for jump to lightspeed on my go!”

When he was confident all was in readiness, he gave the signal. Like flames going out, one fighter after
another vanished from the present reality in a streak of light.

He had to see for himself. As he strode down the corridor where walls of exposed igneous rock alternated with panels and consoles of metal and spun synthetics, Ren’s emotions were boiling. His present mental state contradicted all of his training, but he could not help himself. He had reacted poorly to what had happened
earlier, and that had been reflected in the Supreme Leader’s judgment. To add to the discomfort, that slimy sycophant Hux always seemed to appear at the most awkward possible moment.

He gritted his teeth, angry at himself. It was a measure of his current weakness that something like jealousy toward an insignificant simpleton like Hux could even enter his mind. It was nothing but a waste of
physical energy and mental concentration. Hux—Hux was not worthy of such attention.

The girl, on the other hand…

Entering the holding cell, he found it, as expected, deserted. In the center, the single coppery-hued, angled bench stood empty, its multiple curving restraints open and mocking beneath the subdued red illumination from the ceiling. Unable to contain himself any longer, he pulled
his lightsaber, thumbed it to life, and launched into a series of wild swings and strikes, methodically reducing the room to rubble.

Hearing his howls of outrage, a pair of stormtroopers crossing at the far end of the access hallway changed course to investigate. What they saw within the cell as bits and pieces of red-hot debris came flying out caused them to retreat the way they had come—fast.

T
HANKS TO THE
snow and the heavy forest cover, the patrol droid did not see them, and the deformation warp from a heat distorter Chewbacca carried in a pouch served to mask their thermal signatures. From time to time, Finn had taken the more primitive but also effective precaution of using a branch to wipe out their footprints as they advanced. Where they could, they kept to rocky
surfaces, the better to minimize evidence of their passage. Slung across the Wookiee’s back was a duffel packed with advanced dentons whose explosive potential greatly exceeded their size.

Lengthening his stride, Finn moved up alongside Han and pointed. “There’s a flood tunnel over that ridge. We can get in that way.”

Han looked over at him. “You sure it isn’t safety screened? We can cut
through ordinary stuff, but…”

Finn shook his head. “There’s no screen at all. A screen would defeat the tunnel’s purpose.”

Han frowned at him. “You said you worked here. You never told us your specialty.”

Finn looked away as he replied. “Sanitation.”

Han gaped at him. “
Sanitation?
How do you know how to take down the shields?” He indicated Chewie’s backpack. “We’ve got enough stuff
to do the job, but we have to know where to set it. We’ve only got one chance to do this right. If we fail to bring their shields down, we might as well pack up and apply for First Order citizenship.” His voice lowered. “Also, everyone in the D’Qar system is going to die.”

“I don’t know how to take out the shields, Han,” Finn admitted. “I’m here to get Rey.”

Han turned a slow, frustrated
circle. “Anything else you’ve overlooked? Anything else you’ve forgotten to tell us?” Nearby, Chewbacca added his own groaning comment. “People are counting on us! The
galaxy
is counting on us!”

“Solo,” Finn shot back, “we’ll figure it out! We got here, didn’t we?”

“Yeah? How?”

Finn smiled encouragingly. “We’ll use the Force!”

Han rolled his eyes. “Again the Force. Always the Force.”
His gaze returned to the hopeful Finn. “I haven’t got time to explain it to you, kid, but—that’s not how the Force works.” He looked up and around. “Where’s that patrol droid?” Chewie growled back at him. “Oh really?
You’re
cold?”

Red borders flanked a ventilation grid that ran the length of the floor as Rey ran down the hallway, her former guard’s blaster rifle gripped tightly in both
hands. Needing to catch her breath, she ducked into an alcove that provided at least a nominal amount of cover from anyone moving up or down the passage. Though free of the holding cell, she had no destination in mind. A short survey of her surroundings provided one.

A long walkway was flanked on one side by a stone-and-steel wall. Possibly an exterior barrier, it offered no hope of an exit.
But on the other side of the walkway…

At the far end was a doorway leading to an open hangar. While she couldn’t see far beyond, lines of parked TIE fighters suggested the possibility of escape. All that stood in her way was the narrow, railing-free walkway that crossed a vast, open atrium—and at the far end, a group of stormtroopers engaged in idle conversation. No one was looking in her
direction.

Edging forward while keeping close to the wall, she soon found herself at the end of the corridor and near the start of the walkway. A cautious glance over the side and down revealed a seemingly bottomless pit; its sides were molded panels that were softly lit with hundreds of lights extending down, down, until even those lights were not sufficient to illuminate the shadowy depths.
How to get across without alerting the hangar guards on the far side presented a seemingly insurmountable problem. The walkway itself was flat and completely open, offering no cover to anyone trying to cross.

She couldn’t go back. This might be her only chance to get offplanet. And no matter what she had managed to do previously, she doubted Kylo Ren would allow her to manipulate him, or any
lesser minds, again.

The decision was made for her. The echo of approaching booted feet made her turn to look back the way she had come. A clutch of stormtroopers was coming up the corridor, heading her way. There was no chance they would fail to notice her standing within the shallow alcove.

Breaking from cover, she ran to the near end of the walkway. But instead of continuing across
and certainly drawing the attention of the troopers on the other side, she slipped over the edge. And just in time: The fast-moving squad coming up the corridor reached the walkway as she dropped down. Hanging there by her fingers, just out of sight, she reflected that what she was doing was no different from climbing the interior walls of derelict starships back on Jakku. The difference was that
there it was a lot warmer, and here the passersby were inclined to shoot at you.

If she let go or otherwise lost her grip, of course, it would solve all her problems. Permanently.

How many troopers were there in the squad? she wondered as they continued to pass above her. How long was it going to take them to get across? Hanging there, waiting, she had time to study her immediate surroundings.
What she saw suggested another way out, one that would not involve a possibly suicidal attempt to blast her way past a cluster of hangar guards.

Working her way sideways, hand over hand, while methodically locating shallow footholds, she made it across to a service hatch slotted into the wall of the atrium. It opened, silently and without the need to enter a code, at her touch. While still
yawning to depths unknown beneath her, the inner workings of the base that she was able to reach through the hatch provided access to better handholds. If she was lucky and didn’t lose her sense of direction, much less her grip, she felt she might be able to work her way across to the corresponding service area that ran underneath the TIE fighter hangar, avoiding the guards above. Then she would
have to find a way to access the hangar deck itself and without drawing any attention. Assuming she could do so, she could try to steal a fighter.

One simple predicament after another, she told herself.

First she had to get across. Once, she encountered a small service droid coming toward her. She held her breath, but it ignored her, intent only upon its programmed tasks.

Good thing,
she thought with relief as she resumed the crossing, that not all droids had the cerebral capacity of one like BB-8.

The stormtrooper who waited for the doorway to open expected to see an empty transport compartment. Instead, he found himself confronting two humans and one Wookiee, none of whom were inclined to engage him in casual conversation. Sensing this, the trooper reacted quickly
and reached for his blaster. Reactions still sharp from years of experience, Han fired, sending the trooper to the ground. As Chewbacca dragged the body out of sight, Han and Finn peered warily around the corridor’s first corner.

“The less time spent here,” Han quickly decided, “the better luck
we’re going to have. In fact, the less time we linger anywhere, the better luck we’re gonna have.”

“Yeah, I know.” Checking the corridor outside the transport compartment, Finn gestured to his right. “I got an idea about that.” He started off, Han and Chewbacca following.

With Finn leading the way, they managed to make it a considerable distance into the base. Spotting a figure coming toward them, Finn’s eyes grew wide. The advancing officer’s armor was highly reflective and the black,
red-fringed cape that hung down the left side very, very distinctive.

“Here comes our key,” Finn whispered.

Han took note of the oncoming figure, then glanced at Finn. “You know this one?”

Finn’s expression was tight. “Yeah, we’ve met.”

Reading the other man’s tone, Han nodded understandingly. “An old friend, huh?”

“Something like that.” Finn’s expression didn’t change. “As
much as I’d wish otherwise, we need her alive.” He started fumbling with his blaster. “I’m not real familiar with this model. Is there a setting to stun?”

Han grinned. “We’ve got something else that’s always set to stun.”

Far down the corridor a squad of troopers came into view and the three intruders tensed. But the troopers did not turn to follow the advancing officer, marching off instead
down a separate passage. Preoccupied with other matters, the officer failed to see the hairy mountain that plowed into her until it was too late. His massive arms wrapped around her, Chewbacca dragged his captive into the narrow cross corridor where his companions were waiting. As she struggled in the unbreakable grasp, she found herself turned around to confront a blaster pointed directly
at her face.

An unsmiling Finn had to restrain the finger that was resting on the weapon’s trigger.

“Captain Phasma. Remember me?” He moved his weapon slightly. “Here’s my blaster, ya still wanna inspect it?”

Phasma held on to her dignity. “Yes, I remember you. FN-2187.”

Finn shook his head curtly. “Not anymore. My name is Finn. A real name for a real person. And I’m in charge
now.”

From behind the former trooper, Han spoke up. “We’re just visiting. Finn’s been giving us a quick tour and it’s been real fun, but we haven’t seen the planetary shield control room yet.” He broke out into a broad, pleasant smile. “We’d really like to see the planetary shield control room.”

“Now,” Finn added menacingly.

Phasma sniffed derisively. “Why should I show you anything?”
Behind her, Chewbacca let out a threatening moan and tightened his grip. She let out a little gasp.

“Because if you don’t,” Han told her, “we’ll eventually find it anyway. But you won’t know that, because you’ll be dead.” He nodded toward his copilot. “Chewie here doesn’t like people who threaten his friends.”

She managed a slight shake of her head. “Even a Wookiee can’t crush First Order
armor.” In response, Chewbacca tightened his grip further. Her mask emitted a slight but perceptible wheeze.

“Well,” Han said nonchalantly, “there’s one way to find out.”

“Or,” Finn added, pushing the muzzle of the blaster in a little tighter, “I can simply shoot you. I’m well trained, you know. I know exactly where to put a kill shot. Especially at this range.”

“What are you up to
here?” she countered. “Are you with the Resistance? Independents?”

“Maybe we’ll answer your questions,” Finn told her. “Later.” Taking a step back, he gestured with the blaster as Chewie disarmed her. “Right now, you’re our tour guide. Let’s go.”

They managed to avoid the few technicians and troopers they encountered by ducking back into concealing alcoves or small passageways. There was
one guard stationed outside the room they had to enter. Stepping out into the open, Finn waved and smiled as he walked toward the man.

“Hey, hi! When are you off duty, mate?”

“Not for another…” The trooper outside the door peered at the
newcomer. “Why are you out of uniform? In fact, why are you even in this sector?” He started to bring up his rifle. “Put your hands out where—”

A single
blow from the Wookiee’s massive right hand put the trooper down on the floor, out cold. Han gestured with his blaster as he murmured to Phasma, who was standing in front of him. “What was that you said earlier about First Order armor and Wookiees?” The captain did not reply.

The shield control room was not large. With everything functioning normally, there was no need for technicians to be
on duty. The instruments monitored themselves. If a problem arose that they could not self-correct, appropriate notification would instantly be flashed to Central Command. If the difficulty could not be fixed from there, a tech or two would be dispatched to deal with the trouble in person. A planetary shield being a fairly straightforward thing, there was hardly ever a problem with the system.

One such problem was about to be artificially induced.

Taking a seat before the main console, Phasma paused. What was happening right now made no sense. Still, with her chest and shoulders throbbing from the Wookiee’s attention, she was not about to offer what would amount to pointless resistance. The fools presently holding their weapons on her would meet their inevitable fate soon enough.
She felt something hard push against the side of her helmet.

“Do it,” Finn ordered her. Chewbacca added a few choice moans and grunts for emphasis.

Reluctantly, she worked the controls. Accompanied by an appropriate succession of sounds, a sequence of telltales came to life. A readout flared, bright enough for everyone to see it clearly.

SHIELDS DISABLE INITIATED

Leaning toward
Han, Finn murmured worriedly, “Solo, if this works, and if I remember correctly what they told us about the shield system, we don’t have a lot of time to find Rey.”

“Don’t worry, kid.” Han replied without shifting the muzzle of his weapon a millimeter away from Phasma. “We won’t leave here without her.”

The stormtrooper captain sat back. “I can’t do this by myself. It requires two security
codes to access the full system and shut it down.”

“I’ve been in the business of dealing with liars and thieves my whole life. I know when someone’s telling the truth—and when they’re not.” Pressing the end of his blaster against one side of Phasma’s helmet, Han lowered his voice. “How well can you hear with one ear?”

More telltales came to life. When she was finished, a second message
appeared before them.

SHIELDS DISABLED

“You can’t be so stupid as to think this will be easy,” Phasma said. “My troops will storm this block and kill you all. Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work.”

“I disagree,” Finn replied without hesitation. “I was told escape from the corps was impossible, yet here I am. I was told that training prevented anyone from turning against the Order,
yet here I am. I was told that I was going to die on Jakku, yet here I am. And here you are.” He glanced over at Han. “What do we do with her?”

Han pondered a moment. “Is there a garbage chute? Trash compactor? I have a pretty good idea how they work.” When Finn threw him a quizzical look, Han shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve had hands-on experience.”