A SPIRIT of camaraderie pervaded the First Order transport. Backs were slapped. Weapons inspected. Light-hearted taunts exchanged. Would FN-2000 transmit accurate location data? Would FN-2199 run out of blaster packs? Would FN-2003 be able to keep up, or would he slip behind the rest? Would FN-2187 keep his helmet on?

FN-2187 laughed with his comrades, but he knew he should be focused and not let his exuberance for the mission cloud his preparation. FN-2003’s supportive nod reassured FN-2187 that the excitement was mutual. The troop transport shuddered when it hit the ground. FN-2187 stood firm. Unshakable. Immovable. At the ready. His squad mates did the same. It was their moment. It was what they had trained for years to do. They would look back on this day as the beginning of what would be a long and storied career in the stormtrooper corps.

The hatch lifted. The ramp extended. FN-2187’s helmet visor compensated for the dark of night. He would be able to see potential enemies in the infrared. But it took longer for the dust from the landing to settle and permit FN-2187 a full view of the battlefield.

The village was smaller and sadder than what had been portrayed in the simulations. Its tattered tents and sand-blasted hovels hardly seemed a proper sanctuary for Resistance fighters. But FN-2187’s duty wasn’t to question his superiors. It was to follow them. The First Order was always right.

FN-2003 nudged his shoulder. FN-2187 nudged back.

The signal was given.

FN-2187 marched out with his comrades into battle.

Poe climbed into his X-wing cockpit and switched on its systems. He felt guilty making an escape when First Order stormtroopers were attacking Tuanul. But Lor San Tekka would not let him stay. He said that Poe’s mission was too important. The stakes too high. The fate of the entire galaxy depended on Poe’s delivering the artifact he’d received from Lor San Tekka.

The entire galaxy. Tekka sure didn’t mince words.

BB-8 rocked back and forth in the astromech socket behind the cockpit. The droid was getting impatient. “We’re going, we’re going,” Poe said.

He activated the repulsors and began to edge the craft out from under the stone outcropping. Within moments, he’d have a clear path to launch.

There was a high-pitched ping-ping and the ship suddenly shook. Poe snatched the flight stick to prevent the X-wing from careening into the surrounding rock. They were taking enemy fire. The scanner showed two stormtroopers rushing at the craft, rifles raised.

The troopers weren’t on their feet long. Poe triggered his fighter’s drop-down laser cannon, setting the troopers ablaze, along with much of the neighboring vegetation.

More troopers would be on the way. Poe had to leave. He dismissed all prechecks and started the engines. The X-wing rattled in response.

Poe sprang out of the cockpit and scrambled down the fuselage. BB-8 popped out of the socket to roll with him.

The damage was worse than Poe had feared. Two of the engines smoked, struck at the weak points. Those First Order troopers had known the precise locations that would knock out an X-wing. Poe would not be leaving Jakku anytime soon.

He retrieved the leather bag Tekka had given him and removed what it held: a curious object resembling a bundle of silver blocks of varying sizes. The blocks were all adhered to one another, and some had red squares and rectangles visible along the sides. The item was so small yet so crucial to preserving all that was good in the galaxy.

Size never determined significance. BB-8 proved that every day. That’s why Poe trusted the little droid to keep safe what Tekka had given him and complete the mission in his absence.

He inserted the object into BB-8’s frontal data slot. “Get as far away from here as you can. I’ll come back for you.”

The droid shrilled a negative, not wanting to leave his master.

“Go!” Poe said, then lowered his voice. He regarded his loyal companion with an affection few humans extended to mechanicals. “I’m gonna take out as many of those bucketheads as I can. It’ll be all right. I’ll come back for you.”

BB-8 beeped rebuttals, but Poe would not be swayed. “Go on! It’ll be all right,” he repeated.

The little droid wheeled away, holding in his memory banks information vital to the security of the Resistance—a clue to the whereabouts of Luke Skywalker, last of the Jedi.