CHIRRUT HAD not ever expected to find himself on another planet, fighting to help destroy the deadliest weapon in the galaxy. But after the Death Star blew his hometown—Jedha City—to pieces, he didn’t have anything else to do or anywhere else to go.

He’d lost almost everything in that attack: his friends, his family—even the Holy City itself. The only thing he had left was his faith in the Force and his best friend, Baze.

That was what had taken him to Scarif. It would have been easy for him to plead off after Cassian and Jyn had taken him to Yavin 4. He was blind, after all, and most people expected less of him because of that. He could have asked to be led away from all this, and no one would have questioned his choice.

He would have known, though, and so would Baze. Just because he couldn’t see didn’t mean he couldn’t be useful in the fight against the Empire. And if there was any chance at all that he could help stop the Empire from using the Death Star to utterly conquer the entire galaxy, how could he walk away from that?

He had the echo-box transmitter on his belt; that helped him figure out where he was in the world. Plus he had Baze. And most important, he still had his faith in the Force.

So he’d gone with Baze and the rebel commandos and helped them place their bombs on the various landing pads situated around the Citadel. Then, after Sergeant Melshi had detonated them, Chirrut had also joined the fight.

For a while, it seemed like the rebels had the upper hand. They had hidden themselves well, and the stormtroopers were having a hard time finding them. The stormtroopers also had only blaster rifles to defend themselves with, and the rebels could pick them off from cover without much fear.

But then Chirrut heard something he’d never heard before. It thrummed like a herd of engines, but it also lurched forward with a gigantic gait, like that of a beast several stories tall. The others couldn’t see what it was through all the smoke the bombs had thrown up, but such things didn’t distract Chirrut. They couldn’t.

He heard them coming, whatever they were, and he knew what he had to do. “Baze!” he shouted. “Baze!”

He heard his old friend hesitate. Baze stopped firing his weapon for a moment, the souped-up blaster with the ammo tank he carried on his back. He froze there and said, “What?”

While Baze listened for what Chirrut had already heard, Chirrut turned and bolted away from the things coming toward them. As he did, he shouted, “Run. Run!”

The gigantic walking machines emerged from the smoke then, like ancient monsters shambling forth from their lairs. Chirrut heard someone call them by name: AT-ACTs.

Whatever they were called, the massive machines opened fire on the rebels. Blaster fire erupted all around Chirrut as he raced for cover with Baze right behind him. Explosions seemed to surround them, but they weren’t about to give up.

Chirrut knew the real battle was just starting.