PAIGE spun in the turret seat of the bomber Cobalt Hammer, blasting at enemy fighters. Sweat trickled under the medallion on her neck. It was getting harder and harder to keep the TIEs away. Their numbers seemed endless.

“Almost there! Bombardiers, begin the drop sequence!” Tallie said over the bomber’s speakers.

Releasing the magno-charges was Nix’s responsibility as the bombardier of Cobalt Hammer. He was stationed at the top of the bomb bay, while Paige’s turret was located at the bottom of the fuselage and faced backward to ward off any pursuers.

She continued firing, sending more TIEs to their doom. She didn’t revel in any of it, knowing that each and every TIE was operated by someone like her.

The lead bomber Crimson Smiter zoomed past and opened its bomb bay door. “Sequence initiated,” broadcast its bombardier. “Payload ready to del—”

His transmission never finished. A TIE careened into Crimson Smiter’s bomb bay and sparked a chain reaction. All the bomber’s magno-charges went off, spawning a destructive wave that swept through space.

Paige was rocked in her seat and her viewport went white. After the brightness dimmed, she saw the explosive wave had consumed not only the crimson bomber and the nearby TIEs, but all the other bombers.

Cobalt Hammer was the only bomber remaining.

Down below lay the sleek chrome of the Dreadnought’s hull. But Nix would have to start dropping his payload soon. Sensors indicated that the Dreadnought’s autocannons were rotating away from D’Qar to the Resistance cruiser Raddus, on which Paige’s sister, Rose, currently served as a technician. She and thousands of others would die if the autocannons struck the cruiser.

A black X-wing sped under them. “Cobalt Hammer, why aren’t your bay doors open?” came the voice of Commander Poe Dameron. “Nix, come in!”

When Nix didn’t respond, Paige didn’t wait for further instruction from Fossil, her commanding officer on the Raddus. She unbelted herself and crawled out of the turret into the bomb chute. Not one of the thousand magno-charges had been dropped. They all rested in their berths along the length of the shaft, and the bay doors below remained closed.

Smoke billowed down the chute. Paige crouched. Through the haze, she made out a body in a bombardier flight suit lying on the highest catwalk. “Nix?…Nix?”

The pilot didn’t move. But an object in his hand blinked red—the bomb trigger remote.

“Drop the payload,” Poe shouted over the bomber’s speakers. “Now!”

Paige scuttled up a ladder to the catwalk. Poor Nix lay there, lifeless. The blast from the crimson bomber must have struck the upper part of Cobalt Hammer. She silently thanked Nix for managing to put the remote trigger within her reach.

The ship shook violently and Paige lost her footing. She fell off the ladder, down the chute, and smashed into a midlevel catwalk ten meters below.

Pain shot through her limbs. She could hardly move. The smoke thickened. She wheezed. TIEs must have hit the bomber again. Another barrage would probably destroy it for good.

Paige couldn’t let that happen. People were depending on her. Her friends. Her family. Her little sister.

Rose would die if Paige didn’t drop the bombs.

Paige turned her head to look up. Teetering on the edge of the catwalk, the remote shone through the smoke like a bright star on a cloudy night. The TIE fighter attack must have jostled it out of Nix’s grip.

Paige kicked at the ladder. The upper catwalk shuddered, but the remote remained on the edge. She mustered her muscles for another kick. Her boots clanged against the ladder. The remote bounced, but didn’t fall.

Smoke constricted her lungs. She couldn’t even cough. “Now! Drop them now!” boomed Commander Dameron.

Paige gave one last kick. It had much less force than her other two attempts. But it was just enough to knock the remote off the catwalk.

It ricocheted off one bomb, then another, falling down the chute. Paige stretched out with every bit of strength left in her.

She caught the remote. The next action came naturally, ingrained from operating the turret. Her thumb pressed the remote’s trigger.

A warning chimed, then the bay doors opened. From bottom to top, the racks retracted and the magno-charges tumbled from their berths. Down the chute they fell, a thousand black orbs, some painted with crude smiling faces or slogans like “Hi Snoke!”, and each containing enough destructive power to level a village. They pelted the Dreadnought, erupting on contact, blasting chunks from its hull. Within moments, flames engulfed the Fulminatrix and everything around it—including Cobalt Hammer.

As fire washed over the bomber, Paige touched the medallion that hung around her neck and thought of Rose.

General Leia Organa did not join the cheering on the bridge of the Raddus when the Dreadnought broke apart. She couldn’t celebrate the unnecessary sacrifices Poe Dameron had forced them to make. They had forfeited all eight bombers, along with most of the starfighter corps. The small Resistance fleet might escape this time, but it would not be able to mount an ample defense when the First Order attacked again. And attack again it would, she knew. The First Order would not stop until the flame of the Resistance was snuffed out.

Her job was to ensure that never happened. “Lightspeed,” she said.

The bridge crew promptly resumed their duties and all the remaining ships in the fleet followed her command.

Rey?

Finn woke with a start—and banged his head against something hard. Wincing, he found himself lying inside a bubble bed, wearing a squishy suit from his neck to his toes. He retracted the dome and promptly fell off the bed onto the cold floor.

He was in a sick bay, far from the snowy forests of Starkiller Base where he remembered he had been fighting Kylo Ren, the First Order’s black-garbed enforcer, in defense of his friend Rey. Relying on the advanced weapon training he’d received as a stormtrooper, he had managed to wield the lightsaber given to him by Maz Kanata and slash Kylo Ren in the arm. Incensed, Ren had lashed out with his own fiery blade, cutting deep into Finn’s flesh before all went dark.

Finn felt an ache where Ren’s saber had struck, but otherwise he seemed in good health. And if he had survived the encounter, it could mean that his friend had, too.

“Rey!” he called out. But there was no sign of her. He was alone.

The sick bay suddenly shook. Medical equipment fell off the shelves. Glow panels fluttered. Finn teetered up on uneasy legs. Sticky, icky bacta dripped from the tubes of his translucent body suit. The medicine had special properties that accelerated the healing process, but it was costly, even the synthetic blend the Resistance had acquired. His wound must have been quite severe for the Resistance to use its precious bacta on him.

He staggered out into a corridor. The walls gleamed white and were lined with access panels to circuitry and conduits. Engines hummed in the background. Finn figured he must be on a star cruiser.

“Rey?” he called again.

He peeked out a viewport and the dizzying streaks of hyperspace nearly made him sick. He turned away as a squad of soldiers in Resistance uniforms rushed past, paying him no attention, even in his current state of undress.

Finn didn’t know what was going on, but he had to find Rey before things turned worse. He also had to find some clothes.

After landing inside the Raddus’s hangar, Poe had BB-8 run a diagnostics program. Black One had sustained some hull damage in the combat, but nothing that couldn’t be patched. Poe would recommend that the mechanics replace the power junction box, in case it failed again. As for the experimental booster engine, it had saved his skin, so he’d keep it.

Interrupting his tests, BB-8 twirled his dome and blabbed in excitement, beeping too fast for Poe to understand. “Finn naked? Leaking bag? Your chips all right?” Poe asked. Turning his head, he saw why the droid was so animated. Finn was bumbling around near the hangar door, looking very lost and wearing a translucent bacta suit.

Poe climbed out of his fighter and hurried over to his friend. “Buddy! It’s good to see—” He stopped before he hugged the former stormtrooper. Gelatinous fluid was leaking from Finn’s suit and had dribbled a trail on the ground. “Let’s get you dressed. You must have a thousand questions.”

Finn had but one. “Where’s Rey?”