Journey to Star Wars: The Force Awakens Lost Stars (4 page)

When they flew near one of the eastern ridge arches, Ciena’s voice crackled through his helmet’s speakers. “I see some icicles that need
to be taught a lesson.”

“Got it.”

The arch came into focus on his viewscreen grid. Three icicles hung from the rock like stalactites, most of them about as thick as his arm. Big for an icicle—small for a target.

Thane took aim, fired, and sent shattered ice spraying into the air. He grinned as he heard Ciena’s victory whoop.

“Think you can find me a couple more targets?” he said.
They never blasted indiscriminately, because a few falling rocks or icicles at this altitude could turn into an avalanche down
at habitation levels. But he and Ciena had learned everyplace safe to shoot where ice could possibly hide.

“Oh, yeah,” she replied. “Hang on.”

Thane knew exactly how she’d loop the ship downward. Even without guessing their exact destination, he could sense just
from the slightest shift of their wings which way she would move
next. He and Ciena had flown as a team every chance they’d had for the past five years. By now they worked together like two hands of the same pilot.

The V-171 dived into Stepson’s Gorge, a narrow, craggy pass that challenged ships at every turn. Ciena steered them down deep, no doubt intending to give Thane some practice targeting
overhead. As they descended, they swooped past one of the many small waterfalls within the gorge. Despite the freezing chill, the falls still flowed, though more in a trickle than a gush. At that
hour of the afternoon, the light caught the water at the perfect angle for a rainbow, and an icy outcropping nearby caught the prismatic light, reflecting it in a dozen directions at once. Every
rock and line of snow seemed to glitter. It was one of those perfect moments all the more spectacular because in an instant it would be gone, never to be seen again.

Thane heard Ciena whisper, “Look through my eyes.”

He’d known she would say that.

Maybe it was finally time to find out why.

After flying practice, Ciena and Thane went to the Fortress.

So they’d named it when
they were eight years old and inclined to be dramatic. Really the space was nothing but a cave, albeit a cave they’d spent several years fixing up to their
satisfaction. Every few weeks, one of them would show up with something else to add to their collection. Most of the nicer stuff (the proton-fuel heater, the holo-games) had been brought by
Thane—castoffs from his family, luxuries they had
tired of or would never miss. Ciena’s offerings were humbler, but she consoled herself by thinking they were more important. The
Fortress would have been incredibly uncomfortable without the thick blankets and hide rugs she’d brought. Those, too, were castoffs, passed on by valley kindred trying to modernize their
dwellings to Imperial standards. But they were warm and soft, the ideal lining
for their nest hidden away from the world.

Really the cave was located fewer than fifty meters from the Kyrell family’s hangar, but the mouth was tucked above one outcropping and overshadowed by another, making it so secret that
Ciena sometimes thought she and Thane might be the first people in the history of Jelucan to walk inside. In short, it was the perfect hangout.

Occasionally,
each of them went there alone, but mostly they visited the Fortress together, talking about everything in the world and dreaming about their future among the stars.

“My father said it was three dozen senators who walked out,” Ciena said.

Thane shrugged. He was less interested in politics than Ciena was and continued lounging on the red rug, staring out at the sunset. “What difference does
it make whether it was twenty or
thirty-six? Out of hundreds of senators, that’s not that many either way.”

“They refused to cast votes. They’re going to be replaced by Imperial appointment. That’s a big deal, Thane.”

“It’s just some rich old politicians being self-important. That’s their idea of fun.”

“How could they betray their oaths? Their
honor
?” Ciena still couldn’t fully believe
it. “Everybody knows it was the Senate that steered the galaxy into civil war
before the Emperor established order again. Why would anyone take the peace we have now for granted?”

Thane shrugged. “Probably they’re really fighting about something else entirely and just saying it’s all about these high ideals. When they realize they don’t have any
power anymore, they’ll come crawling back
to the Emperor and forget all about the stuff they were arguing over before.”

“You’re really cynical sometimes.”

“I’m right, though. You’ll see.”

Ciena sighed as she lay back on the black gundark hide, its thick fur as cozy as any bed. From this angle, the sunset blazed magnificently just beyond the far ridge of mountains. The light
glowing into the cave turned Thane’s hair to true
red and added warmth to his pale skin, and something about the way it fell made his face look startlingly older.

He’ll be handsome,
she thought. Strange though it was to realize that, Ciena felt she was only being objective. It wasn’t as if she and Thane were—as if they would
ever—well, they wouldn’t. If her parents loathed her having a second-wave boy for a friend, how would they react
if she ever fell in love with one? And while Thane had never explicitly
told her about the way his father treated him, she’d seen the bruises and sensed in his silences the things he hadn’t said. Thane’s father would do worse than that if he ever
thought the two of them were together.

Besides, she and Thane…maybe they were
too close
to each other to fall in love. Sometimes she felt that
they were two parts of the same person.

“Hey,” Thane said quietly, carefully. “Can I ask you something that might be, uh, personal?”

Had he guessed what she was thinking about? Ciena sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. “You can ask. I don’t promise to answer.”

“Fair enough.” He paused again before continuing. “Every once in a while, when we see something really amazing, you whisper,
‘Look through my eyes.’ Is that a
valley thing? What does it mean?”

It
was
personal, but Ciena found she didn’t mind Thane’s knowing. “Yes, it’s one of our customs. A rarer one, though. See—when I was born—I was a
twin.”

“A twin?” Thane sat up straight. Even a second-waver would be intrigued; most planets had myths and legends about twins. “For real? But I thought you were an only
child.”

“I am now. My sister, Wynnet, died only a few hours after we were born.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right. It’s not as if I remember her or anything. But I live my life for both of us.” Ciena held up her arm to show off her leather bracelet.
“Didn’t you ever notice that I never take this off?”

“Well, yeah, but I thought you just
liked
it.”

Ciena ran her fingertip
along the braid. “I wear it as a symbol that I’m still tied to Wynnet. All my life, everything I do, everything I see—it’s as much of the world as
she’ll ever have, because I share it with her. So when I see something especially beautiful—anything amazing, or sometimes even things that are especially bad—I say those words.
My sister looks through my eyes, and I show her the most important moments
of my life.”

Thane leaned back on the rug. “That’s…really great. I mean it.”

Ciena nodded. “Sometimes it feels like this huge responsibility, living for Wynnet, too, but mostly it reminds me to look for what’s truly special. Maybe I wouldn’t see so much
of that if I weren’t looking for her.”

The sun had finally dipped below the horizon. Although light still suffused the lower part
of the sky, higher up the blue had become dark enough to reveal small twinkling points of light.

Ciena whispered, “Someday, once we’ve made it to the academy—I’m going to show her the stars.”

“Come on,” Thane said. He sat opposite her, cross-legged, deep within the Fortress. “You know this.”

“Do I?”

“This guy started a
war
.”

Ciena’s head
swam. They’d been reviewing galactic history for three hours now. “Okay. The criminal gang that interfered with a legal execution on Geonosis and sparked the Clone
Wars was led by…by…” She shut her eyes, winced, and said, “Mace Windu?”

Then she opened her eyes again to see Thane grinning at her. “See? You knew it all along.”

Next to them, the CZ-1 droid clucked approvingly. “Your grasp
of history is excellent, Miss Ree. In my opinion, you should be much more worried about calculus.”

Her face fell. Thane glared at CZ-1. “I knew we should’ve installed the tact upgrade.”

“What use is tact if it keeps you from learning?” CZ-1 shuffled closer, his ancient joints no longer easy to move. “When you first smuggled me into the ridgecrawler to bring me
here for study sessions,
you said I was to ensure that
both
of you passed the exams. I can’t do that by pretending you understand certain subjects when you don’t.”

Ciena could’ve groaned in despair. These weren’t even the entrance exams for the academy. These would only allow her to qualify for the academy’s preparatory courses. “If
these
tests are kicking my butt, how can I ever pass the real ones?” She tried to
make it a joke, but her voice cracked.

Thane heard her. “Hey,” he said, leaning closer. “You’re smart enough. You’re strong enough. You can fly any single-pilot ship in the Imperial Starfleet, and I bet
you could even handle a Star Destroyer on your own, if they gave you the chance.”

She had to laugh. “I doubt it.”

“I don’t doubt it.” His words became firmer, more forceful. “I don’t
doubt
you
. So stop doubting yourself, okay? We can do this.”

Ciena repeated the words to make herself believe them. “We can.”

When they were fifteen—

“Kyrell!” The E&A—Endurance and Agility—coach stood over Thane, who lay panting on the ground. “Get it in gear or get out for good!”

Every month, in the preparatory track, they had to run a different obstacle course. Gradually, the
courses became more difficult, even dangerous. If would-be cadets broke a limb or gained a
scar, it was just proof that they weren’t fit to be there in the first place.

Not finishing the course—it didn’t get you automatically expelled, but it put you really high on the list of kids who would be first to go.

But his back and shoulders hurt
so much
….

“Hey.” Ciena kneeled beside him.
“Come on. Get up.”

Thane shook his head. His muscles quivered with exhaustion. Beneath his loose black E&A gear, bruises and cuts burned with each movement he made. He’d had less than two hours’
sleep. Every muscle ached; his bones felt heavier than carbonite. “I can’t.”

“Like hell you can’t.”

He lifted his head from the rubbery red surface of the E&A room to see her kneeling over
him. The first moment their eyes met, Thane realized he wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from
her. “Last night—my dad—”

Normally Oris Kyrell lectured his sons. Often he caned them, but only for a few strokes. However, the night before, his wrath had exploded as never before. Thane had not realized he needed to
fight back until he was too injured to do so. His father’s punches and kicks
had not stopped until Thane was on the floor bleeding. Neither of his parents had helped him up afterward, nor had
they acknowledged his injuries in the morning. Apparently they were determined to pretend the incident had never happened.

Bruised and aching, Thane had to bear the truth alone—at least until Ciena’s eyes widened in understanding. “You can still do it,” she whispered. “You got
this far,
right?”

“I’ll try,” he said, between deep gulping breaths. “But you have to get back on the course. You’re losing time.”

“I’m ranked number one in E&A, remember? I can afford to lose a few minutes. And I swear to you right now, Thane Kyrell, if I have to pick you up and carry you to the end of the
course, I will.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that counts.”

More students ran past them, vaulting over the next high barrier, with only a few grunts and groans from those who had touched the sharp edges. These were the slowest kids, or close to it. Ciena
would finish last, and Thane didn’t expect to finish at all.

He rolled over to look her in the face so maybe she’d see how deeply he meant it.
“Go.”

Ciena only leaned closer. “Thane—don’t
let your father win.”

Hatred of his father did what hope couldn’t. Fueled by pure spite, Thane struggled to his knees, then to his feet. Though he staggered at first, he managed to catch himself.

“Ready to run?” Ciena began bouncing on her heels, eager to get moving.

“Yeah.” Thane took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

Somehow he hurled himself over the barrier. Although Thane made it
to the end in last place—he made it.

Afterward, in the privacy of the gear room, he sat on the bench, carefully stripped off his shirt, and let Ciena see the worst of it. The shame made his face burn. Even though he knew he
wasn’t the one who ought to be ashamed…here he was, showing Ciena how he let himself get beaten until the skin of his back split open.