FINN tried to get comfortable in the gun turret. The controls resembled those shown on broadcasts for classic starship collectors. There were plenty of nifty gauges and switches, but nowhere could he find an ON button. The Corellian freighter was a genuine antique.

But it could fly—boy, this baby could fly. Finn felt the power of the engines thrumming through the conduits of the ship. Niima Outpost quickly disappeared, replaced by dunes of sand. Whether the freighter was fast enough to outrace the two First Order TIEs remained to be seen.

“Stay low,” he said into his headset mic, “and put up the shields—if they work!”

The girl’s voice crackled in his earpiece. “Not so easy without a copilot!”

Finn swung back and forth in the turret, getting dizzy. The seat’s gyros were so loose that even a wiggle would swivel it. “Try sitting in this thing!”

“Hold on! I’m going low!” she replied.

Low she went, plunging the freighter toward the desert, then pulling up and slowing to skim the surface. They flew so close they lopped off the tops of a couple of sand dunes. The TIEs zoomed over them to avoid a crash, raining down fire with their cannons.

Luckily, Finn’s new acquaintance had gotten the shields up in time. Laser fire sizzled and died before it could damage the freighter.

“You ever gonna fire back?” her voice rang in his earpiece.

“Working on it!” He pressed every button and toggled every switch. He didn’t know what did it, but the targeting computer suddenly came online.

Holding the triggers in his hands, Finn fired the quad lasers at the TIEs.

All his shots missed.

The TIEs looped to attack. He continued to fire, having no luck. “We need cover! Quick!”

“We’re about to get some,” the girl commed back.

Her idea of cover concerned Finn. She steered the freighter toward what could only have been a former war zone. Demolished vehicles and starships spread out for kilometers, forming a terrifying obstacle course where one wrong turn meant certain death.

Finn kept his fingers on the triggers—and his shots finally connected. A random burst pierced a gap in one of the TIE’s shields and took out a wing. The starfighter smashed into the hull of a wrecked capital ship.

Finn let out a cheer. “That was lucky!”

“Nice shot!” the young woman said.

Their celebration didn’t last long. The other TIE unleashed a barrage that hammered the freighter’s shields. The impact rocked Finn in his seat and jammed the turret in place. He couldn’t swivel, meaning he couldn’t target—he could only fire.

“Cannons are stuck in the forward position,” he said. “I can’t move ’em—so you gotta lose ’em!”

The young woman tried to shake their pursuer by diving into the center engine thruster of an Imperial Super Star Destroyer. All of a sudden they were speeding through a tight maze of shattered beams and crumpled walls. “Are we really doing this?” Finn asked in disbelief.

“Get ready!” she commed.

“Ready for what?”

The narrow confines hadn’t scared off the TIE. Its pilot tracked every move they made and pelted the freighter with lasers.

After a quick climb, they broke out of the destroyer into blue skies. Finn lurched in his harness when the young woman decelerated and cranked the freighter around to face their pursuer. The enemy fighter emerged from the destroyer, dead center in Finn’s crosshair. She had lined up his target for him. All he had to do was fire. Which he did.

The TIE exploded, its own lasers falling well short.

Finn sighed with relief as the freighter soared up and away from the planet Jakku.

Rey put the ship on autopilot and checked on BB-8. The wild ride had pitched the little droid around the cockpit like a kernpop in a kettle. He beeped that he would need 1.3 standard minutes to calibrate his servos.

Rey went into the lounge, where the young man sat near the holochess table, a big grin on his face. “Now that was some flying. How’d you do that?”

“Thanks,” she said. “But I…I’m not sure.”

“Wait—no one trained you?” he asked.

She shook her head. He seemed stupefied. “No one?”

“I’ve flown smaller ships, but I’ve never left the planet.” She didn’t mention that most of those “ships” had been virtual vessels in her flight simulator.

“Well, that was amazing.” His grin got even bigger. “You set me up.”

“That last shot was dead on,” she said. “You got him with one blast.”

He nodded, impressed with himself. “I know, that was pretty good.”

She laughed. “It was perfect!”

For a few moments, everything was perfect. Rey had given Unkar Plutt his comeuppance. She’d escaped soldiers and pilots aiming to kill her. And she’d found a new friend who, unlike BB-8, was flesh and blood. In fact, after getting a good look at him, he was quite—

He cut into her thoughts. “Why are we—”

“Staring at each other?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I don’t know.”

Fully calibrated, BB-8 spun into the lounge in a blizzard of beeps. Rey touched his sphere, calming him. “Hey, you’re okay, we’re okay. He’s with the Resistance and he’s going to get you home. We both will.”

She looked at her gunner, just now realizing the obvious. “I don’t know your name.”

“Eff-Enn-Two—” he started to say. But he corrected himself. “Finn. What’s yours?”

“My name is Rey.”

“‘Rey,’” he repeated. She liked how he said it.

A pop and a hiss delayed any further introduction. A decking plate had burst loose and gas was venting out. Rey ran over to the hole. “Quick—help me!”

Finn hurried up beside her. “What’s going on?”

She peered down but couldn’t see through the cloud of vapor. “I don’t know. I just hope it’s not the motivator!” Covering her eyes, she slipped into the hole.

Kylo Ren stared out into the darkness of space from the Finalizer’s bridge. Most of the crew were in their quarters, resting. But Ren could not sleep. Not when something so critical was almost in his grasp.

The officer on duty, Lieutenant Mitaka, approached. The man’s footsteps were tentative, as if he might run away at any moment. “Sir,” he said, his voice shaky. “We were unable to acquire the droid on Jakku. It escaped capture on a stolen Corellian YT-model freighter.”

Ren turned from the observation port. “The droid stole a freighter?”

“Not exactly, sir. It had help. We had no confirmation, but we believe Eff-Enn-Two-One-Eight-Seven may have been—”

Ren yanked his lightsaber hilt off his belt and ignited its beam. He held the blade overhead. Mitaka closed his eyes.

But it was not the lieutenant Ren struck. Instead he brought down his lightsaber on everything else around him. Slicing through consoles. Tearing open walls. Slashing holes in the deck floor.

When his fury was spent, Ren deactivated his blade and put it back on his belt. “Anything else?”

Mitaka swallowed. “The two were accompanied by a girl.”

Like fuel touched by a spark, Ren’s rage roared anew. He grabbed Mitaka’s throat and squeezed. “What girl?”