The Force Awakens (Star Wars) (23 page)

Poe stared at her. “The Empire?”

Admiral Statura nodded in agreement. “It makes sense. The Empire would have been
looking for the first Jedi temples. In destroying all the Jedi sanctuaries they would have acquired a great deal of peripheral information.”

So intent were they on the current conversation and its possible ramifications that no one noticed that a light had come on atop a small R2 unit shoved back among the rest of the equipment in the
room. Nor did they see that its hemispherical head had
turned to look in their direction.

“We’re still at war with First Order,” Leia pointed out. “A war that won’t end until either it or the Resistance is destroyed. The next time, without Luke, we won’t stand a chance.”

The silence that ensued was broken by a flurry of beeping and whistling the likes of which the somber gathering had not heard in some time. In the case of this particular
beeping and whistling, not in years.

No one was more surprised than C-3PO when R2-D2 came rolling forward to join the assembly.

“Artoo! What—what is it? I haven’t seen you this functional since—” He was interrupted by a fresh farrago of beeping that all but drowned him out. “Slow down! You’re giving me data overload!” Whether the mechanical hand that rose to the side of the golden head
to indicate a headache truly reflected what the protocol droid was feeling or was simply a gesture for the benefit of watching humans, only C-3PO knew.

An excited Leia moved closer. Of all the organics in the room, no one had a more personal relationship to the little droid than she did.

“What’s he saying?” she asked.

The protocol droid explained. “If the information you are seeking
was in the Imperial archives, he believes he may have catalogued that data. He’s scanning through it now.”

Rey stared at the diminutive droid. “Artoo has
the rest of the map
?”

“He’s certainly implying the possibility!” C-3PO told her. “I’ve
never
heard him beep with this much energy before.”

Emitting a long, sustained whistle, R2-D2 projected a full
three-dimensional image of a huge
navigational star chart. No one in the room could fail to notice that it was missing a substantial fragment. In response to the hovering image, BB-8 began beeping excitedly.

“Yeah, buddy, hold on,” Poe told him. “I have it.”

Moving to the side of the spherical droid, the pilot removed from a sealed compartment in his clothing the tiny and very old data device he had originally received
from Lor San Tekka. Inserting it into an appropriate receptacle in BB-8, Poe stepped back. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a lens on the droid’s curved side came to life, projecting a large section of starfield. Shrinking it down so that its proportions matched those of the missing piece within R2’s map, BB-8 adjusted his position slightly.

The two disparate portions merged perfectly
to form a completed chart.

“Oh, my stars!” Threepio’s exclamation was no less astonished than those of his organic counterparts. “That’s it!”

What caused Leia to sway slightly had nothing to do with the Force and everything to do with heartfelt emotion.

“Luke…”

“The map.” Rey could only stare in wonder as her eyes wandered over a shining, resplendent portrayal of a substantial
portion of the galaxy. “It’s the whole map!”

“Artoo!” C-3PO’s tone was that of a proud relative complimenting a member of his family. “Artoo, you’ve done it!”

Cheers and spontaneous embraces filled the room with so much joy that no one paid any attention to who was hugging what representative of whichever species. Rey and Poe were not excluded, though their sudden, tight clinch of shared
excitement led to a moment of mutual awkwardness.

“Uh, hi,” the pilot mumbled. “I’m Poe.”

She nodded slowly, searching his face and finding that she liked it. “I recognize the name. So
you’re
Poe. Poe Dameron, the X-wing pilot. I’m Rey.”

“I know.” He smiled back, a little more at ease. “Nice to meet you.”

Amid all the shouting and spontaneous applause, few noticed a
protocol droid
as he bent over the now quiet astromech unit.

“My dear friend, how I’ve missed you.”

Within the intensive care pod in the medical center, Finn lay in a medically induced coma, his health and life still very much in the balance. Dr. Kalonia’s prognosis had been favorable, even positive, but nothing certain could be said until Finn had fully recovered. When wholly parsed, the phrase
“be all right” could mean one thing to a physician and something else entirely to the patient.

Sitting beside him, a deeply concerned Rey noted the hour. It was time to go. Leaning in to him as closely as the pod would permit, she kissed him softly, her words full of determination.

“We’ll see each other again. I believe that. Thank you, my friend.”

Cleaned up and visibly refreshed
from his long period of inactivity, R2-D2 led the way up the
Millennium Falcon
’s loading ramp. Nearby, Chewbacca was performing the usual last-minute checks of the ship’s external systems. Ordinarily it was a two-person job, but he insisted on doing it by himself.

Standing at the foot of the ramp, an uncertain and uneasy Leia found herself fiddling with the seals on the front of the jacket
Rey was wearing.
Foolish nonsense
, she told herself even as she continued. Unworthy of her status and position. But it felt so right, and so natural, to be doing so.

“I’m proud of what you’re about to do,” she told the girl.

Rey replied in all seriousness. “But you’re also afraid. In sending me away, you’re—reminded.”

Leia straightened. “You won’t share the fate of our son.”

“I
know what we’re doing is right. This is how it has to be. This is how it
should
be.”

Leia smiled gently, reassuringly. “I know it, too. May the Force be with you.”

She watched until Rey was inside the ship and the ramp had closed
behind her. Then she joined Poe, BB-8, and C-3PO in moving to a safe distance.

In the cockpit, Rey headed for the copilot’s seat, only to find her way blocked
by a massive, hirsute form.

“Chewie, the
Falcon
flies better with two people at the controls, you know that. I’ve already sat in that seat. I’m ready to do so again.”

A series of moans came from the Wookiee. Then he turned—and sat down. In the copilot’s seat.

Rey felt herself tearing up. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Chewie groaned and, to make certain she grasped his meaning,
gestured to his left. Toward the pilot’s position.

Sitting down, she settled herself in. She could do this. If Chewbacca felt she could do it, then who was she to dispute him? As she hesitated, the Wookiee reached over and mussed her hair. Grinning, she made a show of trying to slap his hand away. He had no idea how much this innocent, familial gesture meant to her. Behind them, R2-D2 beeped
happily.

Facing forward again, she completed a last scan of the console, assuring herself she knew where everything was. From experience, she knew that the
Falcon
was a forgiving ship. She intended to do right by it. Reaching out, she let her fingers play over the controls. Beside her, Chewie did likewise as he groaned his approval.

The
Millennium Falcon
rose.

The planet was
mostly ocean, dotted with a sprinkling of towering islands formed of black rock: the throats of volcanoes whose slopes had long since eroded away. Greenery caped the stony flanks, falling in emerald waves toward the azure sea. Above the calm waters, flying creatures soared on wide wings of translucent white.

A great uproar broke out among the wheeling flocks as something larger and louder
than any of them descended toward the surface. The
Falcon
banked toward one of the bigger islands, slowing as it did so.

A wide, flat area at the base of the island’s central mountain
provided just enough room for the ship to touch down while avoiding the water. It sat there for a while. Slowly, an assortment of small, furtive land animals began to peer out of the forest that cloaked the mountain,
drawn by curiosity to this strange arrival.

The ramp descended and the ship’s crew emerged. Wookiee and droid looked on as Rey, her old staff strapped to her back, began working her way up the steep, jungle-clad incline before her. Occasionally she would pause to catch her breath and to look back. Each time, Chewbacca would wave. Had he been equipped to do so, R2-D2 would have done likewise.

So old were the stone steps she ascended that grooves had been worn in the front edges by the tramp of thousands of footsteps. The climb was steep, the air humid, and she felt herself tiring. But the thought of stopping never once entered her mind.

Eventually, finally, she found herself in a small clearing occupied by several modest stone structures. The prospect was unbearably primitive.
Within the structures there was no movement save for the hurried retreat of small, covert creatures.

She halted abruptly. There was—something. She turned sharply.

Some distance from her, at the periphery of the forest, stood a figure shrouded in a simple cloak and robe. It did not matter that it was facing away from her. She knew instantly who it was. Yet all she could do was stare in
silence.

Whether motivated by her stare or by something unknown, the figure finally turned toward her and pulled back his hood.

Luke Skywalker.

His hair and beard were white, and his countenance was haunted. He did not speak, nor did she.

Remembering, Rey reached into her pack and removed his lightsaber. Taking several steps forward, she held it out to him. An offer. A plea. The
galaxy’s only hope.

She wondered what would happen next.

BY ALAN DEAN FOSTER

PUBLISHED BY RANDOM HOUSE

STAR WARS

The Force Awakens

The Approaching Storm

Splinter of the Mind’s Eye

TRANSFORMERS

Revenge of the Fallen

The Veiled Threat

Ghosts of Yesterday

Transformers

THE FOUNDING OF
THE COMMONWEALTH

Diuturnity’s Dawn

Dirge

Phylogenesis

PIP AND FLINX

For Love of Mother-Not

The Tar-Aiym
Krang

Orphan Star

The End of the Matter

Flinx in Flux

Mid-Flinx

Reunion

Flinx’s Folly

Sliding Scales

Running from the Deity

Bloodhype

Trouble Magnet

Patrimony

Flinx Transcendent

THE DAMNED

Book One: A Call to Arms

Book Two: The False Mirror

Book Three: The Spoils of War

The Chronicles of Riddick

Dark Star

The Black Hole

Cachalot

Midworld

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A
LAN
D
EAN
F
OSTER
has written in a variety of genres, including hard science fiction, fantasy, horror, detective, western, historical, and contemporary fiction. He is the author of the
New York Times
bestseller
Star Wars: The Approaching Storm
and the popular Pip & Flinx novels, as well as novelizations of several films, including
Transformers, Star Wars,
the first
three
Alien
films, and
Alien Nation
. His novel
Cyber Way
won the Southwest Book Award for Fiction, the first science fiction work ever to do so. Foster and his wife, JoAnn Oxley, live in Prescott, Arizona.

alandeanfoster.com

Facebook.com/AlanDeanFoster