PAIGE’S death hit Rose hard.

The young technician took refuge in a utility corridor on the Raddus. The initial shock she’d felt learning what had befallen Paige’s bomber had spiraled into grief. Her older sister meant everything to her. Paige was the person Rose had admired since her first memory. The two had spent their childhoods together, suffering through the First Order’s brutal takeover of the mining colony where they grew up, looking out for each other in those dark hours, yet also trading joys and laughs and secrets only sisters could share.

Rose sniffled and stared at the old phase-band ring that the bomber squadron commander, a stout, silvery Martigrade named Fossil, had given her to honor her sister’s sacrifice. What looked like an ornate ring could, by the switch of a tiny lever, iris open to reveal the starbird crest of the Rebel Alliance. During the rule of the Empire, senators had worn rings such as this to hide their loyalty to the Rebellion. The historical significance of this gift would have deeply affected Paige.

But history and politics were least on Rose’s mind. She could only think of Paige. How she would never hug her sister again when she returned from a mission. How the two of them would never adopt a pet together or get to ride a Pamaradian prancer or a fleet-footed fathier. How they would never talk, just talk, like they could for hours, sometimes about what was going on, sometimes about nothing at all.

Rose touched the only other piece of jewelry she owned, a medallion of Haysian smelt that hung from a necklace. It was the shape of a half crescent and engraved with the emblem of her home. Paige had worn a medallion just like it. Their matched pair represented the double-planet system of Otomok, containing Hays Major and Hays Minor, their homeworld. It also signified the closest of bonds between Rose and her older sister. They were like planets orbiting each other.

Except that now they weren’t. Now one of the planets was gone.

The echo of footsteps told Rose that someone was near. But who else would come down here? All the other engineers were engaged in repairs elsewhere on the cruiser.

Rose wiped away her tears with her sleeve and stood. She tiptoed to the corner and peeked around it, spying a young man in a patched-up flight jacket. He opened the hatch of an escape pod and threw the sack he carried inside.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

At the sound of her voice, the young man knocked his head against the hatch. He turned, pretending it didn’t happen. “Hi. I was, umm, just doing a—”

“No, what are you doing here, down in maintenance?” Rose moved a little closer. She recognized him from somewhere. “You’re…Finn!” She blushed. She should’ve identified him at first sight. Anyone who followed galactic events knew who this young man was. “The Finn!”

“The Finn?” he repeated.

“I’m sorry for being an idiot, it’s just, I’m not an idiot, I work behind pipes all day and talking with Resistance heroes is not my forte and, oh, I’m Rose and—”

“Breathe,” he said.

It was exactly what Paige would’ve said. Rose quit talking and breathed. It calmed her down, but she felt even more embarrassed. She had the tendency to jabber on like an excited astromech.

“I’m not a Resistance hero,” Finn said. “But it was nice meeting you, Rose.”

He stood in the threshold of the escape pod, looking at her. He wanted her to leave. “Okay,” she said.

She retreated into the utility corridor. If only she could tell her sister! Finn was so charming and courageous and—

She turned back into the hallway just as he was about to duck into the pod. “But you are a hero and that’s important. You left the First Order, and what you did on Starkiller Base—”

“Listen—”

Rose talked over him. “When we heard about it, Paige—that’s my sister—said, ‘Rose, that’s a real hero. Know right from wrong, and don’t run away when it gets hard.’” She took another breath, glad to get it all out.

“Sure” was all Finn said in reply.

His nervousness perplexed her, though it was also possible he was just taken aback. She had that effect on people. “You know, just this morning I’ve had to stun three people trying to jump ship in these escape pods, running away.” She pulled out her electro-shock prod and waved it around to demonstrate.

Finn leaned away and frowned. “That’s terrible.”

“I know. Anyway…” Her excitement began to wane as she reconsidered the situation. Why was someone of his stature in maintenance? Shouldn’t he be advising the other officers?

“Well, I should get back to…” he said, fidgeting, “what I was doing.”

“What were you doing?”

“Checking. Just checking the…ah…doing a check,” he stuttered.

She glanced past him into the pod, at the sack he’d tossed inside. “Checking the escape pods?”

Finn nodded. “Routine check.”

“By boarding one? With a packed bag?” she asked.

“Okay. Listen—”

His hemming and hawing didn’t sound like what a hero would say. He sounded like a deserter.

Rose jabbed her electro-shock prod at him. Its high-voltage discharge could fuse broken circuits and shock a human deaf and dumb.

It sent Finn tumbling into the wall.

Poe and the surviving members of the Resistance leadership sat in the tight space of the Raddus’s emergency bridge. Commander D’Acy, who had been on an errand when the attack destroyed the main bridge, addressed the assembled. “General Organa—Leia,” she said, with reverence, “is unconscious but recovering. That’s the only good news I have. Admiral Ackbar, the rest of our leadership—they’re gone. Leia was the sole survivor on the bridge.”

Standing near Poe, C-3PO sounded like he was caught in a loop. “Oh dear, oh dear…”

“If she were here,” D’Acy said, “she’d say save your sorrow for after the fight. To that end, she left clear instructions as to who should take her place. Someone she’s always trusted, who has her full confidence.”

Poe straightened in anticipation. Though they had their differences, Leia had always recognized his dedication to the Resistance. He would be proud to accept any leadership role on her behalf.

“Vice Admiral Holdo, of the cruiser Ninka,” D’Acy said and stepped back.

The choice was such a surprise to Poe that he didn’t know whether he felt crushed or grateful he wasn’t picked. He had never met the vice admiral in person, but he had heard that she and General Organa had been friends since youth. He also knew she was recognized as a great strategic mind, admired even by Ackbar.

“Thank you, Commander.” Dressed in a slender gown and neck wrap a few shades darker than her purple hair, Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo bore herself with dignity and grace. “Look around you. There are four hundred of you on three ships. We are the last of the Resistance, but we are not alone. In every corner of the galaxy, the downtrodden and oppressed know our symbol and they put their hope in it. We are the spark that will light the fire that will restore the Republic. That spark—this resistance—must survive. That is our mission.”

Her voice conveyed a quiet strength. Everyone on the bridge hung on to her words, including Poe.

“To your stations, and may the Force be with us.”

Poe blinked. That was it? She hadn’t given them any instructions. Yet no one else seemed puzzled.

Poe leaned over to C’ai Threnalli, who was sitting next to him. “That’s Admiral Holdo? Battle of Chyron Belt Admiral Holdo?”

The Abednedo mumbled an affirmative.

“Not what I expected,” Poe said. A great military strategist should have formulated something more than a speech.

As the others disbanded, Poe approached Holdo and saluted. “Vice Admiral, Commander Dameron. With our current fuel consumption, there’s a very limited amount of time we can stay out of range of those Destroyers.”

“Very kind of you to make me aware.”

“And we need to shake them before we find another base,” he said. “What’s our plan?”

She rebuffed him immediately. “Our plan, Captain? Not commander, right? Wasn’t it Leia’s last official act to demote you? For your Dreadnought plan, where we lost our entire bomber fleet?”

“Captain, commander, you can call me whatever you like, I just want to know what we’re doing,” Poe said.

“Of course you do. I understand—I’ve dealt with plenty of trigger-happy flyboys like you. You’re impulsive. Dangerous. And the last thing we need right now.”

Holdo wasn’t being sarcastic. She was being serious. Poe couldn’t contain his shock. “Leia put the Resistance in your hands? Do you even have a plan?”

“Captain Dameron, that is need-to-know information, and you do not need to know. Stick to your post and follow my orders.” She turned her back to him and went to a console.

Poe froze, unsure of what he should do. BB-8 rolled around him, trying to buoy his spirits, but he needed something more than reassuring beeps. He needed wisdom and advice.

He needed General Organa.