CIENA BENT OVER the navigation station, one hand splayed across her aching abdomen, the other resting on the controls. The autonav system had repeatedly attempted to override her commands, but she’d finally managed to shut it down. Now all she had to do was wait.

She stepped back and sank into her chair. On the viewscreen ahead, the stars had been erased; nothing remained but the sandy surface of Jakku. With every second, the view of the world below became clearer. Ciena watched shadows expand into deserts and mountains. Sensors began to flare red, warning her of atmosphere breach. She ignored them.

At one point her vision blurred. When she lifted her hand to her face, her fingers came away wet. Ciena blinked quickly to clear her eyes. When her end came, she would not flinch. She wouldn’t turn away. It was the last experience she would ever have, and she intended to be fully present for every single moment, even the pain.

To die with honor—no one could ask for more—

The bridge’s blast doors slid open.

Ciena jumped to her feet. By instinct she reached for her blaster, but no Star Destroyer captain carried one on the bridge. How could anyone have gotten in?

Then she saw Thane.

The one person in the Rebellion—in the entire galaxy—who could have guessed the right words to say, Ciena thought in a daze, and of course he’s here.

Maybe she was dreaming, or hallucinating. Her brain had conjured up an image of Thane so she wouldn’t believe she had to die alone. He even wore a mourning band around one bicep, grieving like one of the kindred for a tragedy that had yet to come.

But then he breathed out in relief, a sound so subtle and yet familiar that it erased all doubt. This was real. This was happening.

“Ciena.” Thane began toward her, then stopped when she took a step back. He paused and lifted his hands as if to show he held no weapon…but she could see the blaster strapped to his side. “It’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“I’m not leaving.” The words seemed to come from a very great distance, as if she were hearing them instead of speaking them. “I’ll stay with my ship.”

“You know, we can have a long talk about honor and duty later. Right now, we need to get the hell off this thing before we’re in full-on atmospheric entry.”

Escape pods could handle planetary landings, but launching within the atmosphere was hazardous. Already the temperature readings outside the hull were climbing dramatically. Ciena felt her pulse quicken with fear—not for herself. “Thane, go to the nearest escape pod.”

He lifted his chin, like the stubborn, prideful boy he’d been so long ago. “Not without you.”

Anger flared in her. “You realize I ought to arrest you right now? Or shoot you?”

“We’re kind of outside the regulations here already.” Thane held out his hand to her, but she took another step away from him. Less than two meters separated them now. To either side of them, on the countless viewscreens and sensors, alarm lights flashed and scenes of battle and bloodshed flickered.

“You have to go! Don’t you understand I’m trying to save your life?”

“I’m trying to save yours!” He had looked at her that pleadingly, that desperately, when he had first tried to talk her into deserting the Empire with him. For Thane, perhaps, nothing had changed in the five years since. She felt so much older. So much sadder. Hollowed out. But he kept standing there, his hand outstretched, believing he could rescue them both. “Come on, Ciena. We don’t have much time.”

Thane didn’t see that there was no time left for her, none at all.

What have they done to her?

Ciena stood before him, so thin that she looked as if she could be crushed in a man’s fist. Her uniform hung on her, and that combined with the frantically blinking warning lights going off all around them made the scene seem more like some ugly parody of an Imperial bridge than the real thing. What scared Thane most, though, was the blankness in her eyes. Nothing of Ciena’s spirit shone through; he saw only anger and despair.

But his Ciena was still in there. He knew that only because she wanted to die rather than keep serving the Empire.

“Listen to me,” Thane said, trying hard to sound calm even as the Inflictor shuddered with its first real brush with Jakku’s atmosphere. The ride would only get rougher. “You don’t owe the Empire a damned thing. They don’t deserve your loyalty, and they definitely don’t deserve your life.”

“You don’t even know what loyalty means.”

“The hell I don’t! Ciena, if I weren’t loyal to you, would I be here?”

The ship shuddered again. Thane stumbled slightly to one side, and Ciena had to grab her chair to remain upright. She shouted, “Thane, you have to go! You have to get in an escape pod now!”

“I won’t leave you here.” He realized it could come to that—dying by Ciena’s side, here, today, rather than escaping with his own life.

Thane wanted to survive. As much as he loved Ciena, he knew from the past year that he was capable of going on after her death, even healing and finding peace.

But he didn’t want to live as the man who had left her behind to die.

He repeated, “I won’t leave you.”

“Please!” Ciena had begun to shake. “Please don’t make me responsible for your death. All I ever asked, in all those battles, was not to be the one who killed you.”

“I asked for it to be you. Because we’re bound, always, you and I—in life or in death. You know it as well as I do. That’s why we have to get off this ship together.”

Ciena remained silent for a long moment. The ship tilted to one side, artificial gravity warring with the real thing tugging them toward Jakku. On the viewscreen, the image of the planet’s surface slowly swirled; the ship had begun spiraling down.

Then she took one step toward him, and another. Thane could have wept with relief. “Good. That’s right. Come with me.”

She stood before him at last. Their eyes met. And Ciena punched him in the gut, hard.

As Thane sprawled on the floor, Ciena grabbed his blaster from its holster. She stood above him and he stared at her, trying to catch the breath she’d knocked out of him. “Is that it?” he said. “You’re going to shoot me?”

“Of course not,” she said. “I’m going to stun you and drag you to an escape pod myself. But—before that—you know I’m only doing this to save you, don’t—?”

Thane kicked her in the leg so firmly that she stumbled back more than a meter before falling on her back. The blaster skidded across the tilted floor, sliding far away from them both, and Ciena had to struggle to get back to her feet.

He was up, too, in fighting stance, blue eyes blazing. “You want to play this rough? Fine. We’ll play rough.”

One memory flashed in her mind, of how they’d met back when they were children—fighting for each other.

It looked like they were going to die the same way.

Ciena ran at him, and he couldn’t dodge her well enough to keep her from tackling him. As she slammed his head back onto the mesh floor, she shouted, “Get your rebel ass off my bridge!”

Thane threw her off, pushing her sideways. Even as she rolled against the wall, he said, “I’m going to rescue you whether you like it or not.”

Didn’t he understand? Didn’t he see? Why was he trying to steal her one chance to escape this hell and die with her honor? It was as if Thane had never known her at all.

She kicked savagely at him; the heel of her boot caught his jaw and sent him reeling. Ciena scrambled to her feet, which was when she caught a glimpse of the viewscreen—the image of Jakku was terrifyingly close, but it began to blur and blacken. The outside sensors were burning off from the heat of atmospheric entry. The windows were now brilliant orange, cutting off their view as the ship was sealed in flame. The warring factions in the atmosphere and on the ground would be able to see the Inflictor gashing a streak of fire across the sky like a meteor.

Thane grabbed Ciena’s leg and pulled her to the floor; the impact of her fall sent new pain stabbing into her gut wound. Even as Ciena gasped for breath, Thane seized the advantage, pinning both her wrists with his own. “Just come with me,” he said, panting. “You have to come with me now.”

She brought her leg up to knee him in the side and freed her hands. Ciena wanted to tell him to stop being an idiot, to run for a pod now, because it would be too late soon, if it wasn’t already—but all she could say was, “Let me go.”

Then she brought her fists together and swung them upward into his jaw. If she had to knock him out the hard way, so be it.

Even as pain splintered through his face, Thane saw the viewscreen blur and go black. They were out of time.

So he did something he would never, ever have believed he could do. He hit Ciena back.

But Ciena was a small woman, and he was a large man. The same blow to the jaw that had made him stagger sideways laid her flat. Guilt lashed him, but he couldn’t stop, not now—

She shoved herself upward; her shoulder hit his midsection under his ribs and stole his breath. As they both crashed into a control panel, he thought, Anyone watching would think we’re trying to kill each other, not save each other.

Power began to blink off and on as more components caught fire on entry. He heard a deep, terrible groan—the massive metal framework of the Star Destroyer shifting as the heat hit the melting point. Through the few small windows he could see nothing of Jakku or the sky, only flame.

Ciena pushed him away from her just as the floor tilted again. Now they were both sprawling, unable to stay upright. Thane scrambled to get a handhold on one of the chairs, a strut, anything that would help him up—

—when he saw a flash of black metal sliding along the wall.

He threw himself at it. Even as he rolled, he heard Ciena’s boots on the deck as she somehow got back on her feet. She ran toward him, the thumping of her steps faster, just as Thane got the blaster in his hands.

One flick of the thumb, set to stun and—now!

He glimpsed one second of horror on Ciena’s face before the blue bolt hit her. She collapsed to the floor so heavily that for an instant Thane feared he’d accidentally set the blaster to kill. But when he crawled across the tilting floor to reach her, he saw her chest rise and fall.

“I’ll ask forgiveness later,” he whispered. On his knees, Thane managed to roll Ciena over and pull her body over his shoulders. He tasted blood as he staggered to his feet and headed for the nearest escape pod.

His breakneck ride through the service tunnels had refreshed Thane’s memory of Large Vessel Design class, so he was pretty sure he knew where the pods were. What he didn’t know was whether or not he could even get one to launch. If the metal clamps had melted in the heat of atmospheric entry, the escape pod would be useless except as a place to die.

And of course the fleeing Imperials and escaping New Republic soldiers might have launched all the pods already—

Go, go, go, go, go, he chanted inside his head as he stumble-ran through the corridors of the Star Destroyer. The first pod location he reached showed empty; that one had been shot into space long ago. But just as Thane felt panic clutching at his mind, he got to a second location and saw an escape pod still there, waiting.

He hit the control panel with his knee, and the doors spiraled open. It was one of the smaller pods, but two people would fit. Thane dumped Ciena inside; as he crawled through the entry tube to join her, the lights suddenly went out. He was in pitch blackness, save for the scarlet firelight from the small porthole in the escape pod, which flickered across Ciena’s fallen body.

The power was gone. Would the doors close? Would the pod launch? If the explosive latches had melted instead of blowing, they were sunk.

Thane slammed his hand against the launch switch. He’d never seen anything more beautiful than the doors spiraling shut. As they locked, a terrible deep groan shuddered through the ship, like the dying roar of some massive beast.

Then the pod launched, shooting them away from the Inflictor.

The jolt knocked him against the pod’s curved wall, and Ciena rolled to the side. Thane crawled down beside her so he could brace her body against his. The limited repulsorlifts and acceleration compensators in an escape pod meant they had a rough ride ahead; he wasn’t sure the thing’s landing capacities would even work that close to the ground. Through the tiny porthole, he saw only brief flashes of blue, then gold, then blue, then gold—sky and sand tumbling over and over. Impact could be only seconds away.

He curled around Ciena, buried his face in the curve of her neck, and held on for the crash.

The pod hit the ground with a severe jolt—then again—and again. It was skipping across the sand, Thane realized. He and Ciena were jostled against the wall, never hard enough to kill them but always hard enough to hurt. Finally, one impact stuck, slowing them down bit by bit as they tunneled through Jakku’s desert and very gradually came to a stop.

Are we safe? I think we’re—

The pod jarred forward, into the air, so hard that Thane first believed another explosive charge had been set off. But the deep roar he heard told him the truth. The Inflictor had just crashed into the planet, and their escape pod was being thrown forward along with a tsunami of dust and sand.

He wrapped his arms more tightly around Ciena as the pod tumbled over and over; the small window showed nothing but red-orange sand. What if they were buried? What if the already-battered pod could take no more and burst open? He didn’t want them to smother down here, buried alive—

But slowly, the pod rolled to a stop again, this time apparently for good.

After a long second, Thane allowed himself to believe they’d survived the landing. But what if they were deep underground? Would his sensor beacon even be able to signal a New Republic rescue?

He switched on the sensor, waited a long moment—then saw the indicator turn green. Signal sending.

“We made it,” he whispered to Ciena, who lay unconscious against his shoulder. Maybe in her sleep, her subconscious would hear him and subtly let her know everything was going to be all right.

A small line of blood marked a cut on her forehead. Thane untied the mourning band from his arm to use as a makeshift bandage, staring down at her in wonder.

Of all the ships in the galaxy, I boarded hers, he thought.

Maybe…maybe Ciena and Luke Skywalker and the other traditionalists were right about the Force. Maybe there was some power that bound the galaxy together and took you unfailingly to your fate. The Force must have guided him to her so he could save her life and they could go on together.

It felt like all the cynicism and anger of his old life had finally melted away. He lived under the authority of leaders who were fair and just; he had fought a noble war and was on the verge of winning; he served alongside people he both liked and respected. Ciena had been freed from the shackles binding her to the Empire, and from now on she had no limits. Neither of them did. How was it that a guy like him—without hope, without faith—had found his way here?

He leaned his forehead against hers. Despite the painful bruises swelling on his face and body, despite the blood still seeping into his mouth, despite the terrible shape Ciena was in and the stifling heat of the escape pod, he thought that might be the single most joyful moment of his life.

Thane heard sifting sounds above and lifted his face to see the escape pod doors shiver. Then they slid open, sending a small cascade of sand streaming down onto their feet and revealing a New Republic search team silhouetted against the bright sun.

“Am I glad to see you guys.” He lifted Ciena in his arms. “Help me out, will you?”

“Sure thing, Corona Four.” One member of the team leaned forward to pull Ciena through the opening to freedom; Thane crawled out just after and flopped down in the sand beside her.

The medic leaned down. “Do you need assistance?”

“I’d take care of her first,” Thane said.

He expected the medic to begin examining Ciena’s injuries. Instead all the other team members pulled their blasters as the leader kneeled down with a pair of magnetic binders for her wrists.

“What the…?” The words died in Thane’s mouth as he realized the New Republic soldiers were doing exactly what they were supposed to do. They were capturing a high-ranking Imperial officer who would have to be tried for her crimes.

He’d thought he was rescuing her, that the Force had miraculously intervened to protect them both. All Thane had done was deliver her to prison.