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"Quit dreaming, kid, and prepare to jump," Han shouted, bringing the aiwha in for a landing. "We have to get in and out of that station before the Empire blows it away."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"The ships are in the far north wing!" Han shouted, leaping off the aiwha the moment its clawed paws touched the ground. He ran toward the building. Luke and the Wookiee followed close behind him, with Div bringing up the rear. "Follow me!"

"Hurry," Div yelled, "before—" A crack of thunder drowned him out. Div glanced up, expecting to see another storm swirling overhead. But the clouds had been replaced by a swarm of TIE fighters. "Incoming!" Div shouted, diving for cover as laserfire rained down on them. He shoved Luke out of the way just as the wall of a building exploded outward, showering the streets with a storm of flak.

The ground shook and shuddered as they raced toward the research station. Streaks of laserfire lit the sky. The air grew thick with smoke and ash. Div choked on the acrid stench of fire. He knew what would happen next. The Imperials would raze the city. Their attack would flatten the buildings and turn the remaining heaps of durasteel into an inferno. And then, when the ground was flat and lifeless, when there was nothing left—no motion, no sound, no hope—they would depart to wreak their destruction on another corner of the galaxy. They would leave behind nothing but corpses.

Broken bodies, like the bodies of his parents, their unseeing eyes clouded with blood.

Twisted shards of durasteel, like the smoldering remnants of the safe house, the last place he'd seen Trevor, before the Empire arrived.

And once again, they would leave him alive, alone. Surrounded by death. Because that's my job, isn't it? he thought wryly, refusing to allow the flood of self-pity. I live, while all those around me die.

The galaxy needs you, they had said, sacrificing themselves so that he could survive.

You are our hope.

But that hope had been crushed. Flattened, just like everything else.

No, he thought, furious with himself. This wasn't the time to lose oneself in memories.

He was no one's salvation. And that boy, that Lune, no longer existed. He was Div now, nothing more. Lune was as dead as his parents, as dead as his adopted brother, as dead as all that special, extraordinary potential that so many had wasted their lives to protect.

Dead as I'm going to be if I don't snap out of it, Div thought irritably. They had reached the research station, and he threw himself inside, along with Luke, Han, and Chewbacca, slamming the door behind them. They pounded down the corridors toward the north docking bay. The walls rattled as laserfire strafed the roof. The building was taking a lot of hits—too many. "Won't be easy to take off in this," Div muttered.

"Easy's boring," Han shot back.

A chunk of the ceiling collapsed. Div and Han dived out of the way just as a heavy rock of duracrete crashed between them. "I'll take boring," Div muttered.

But that wasn't an option.

In minutes, they made it to the docking bay, where the astromech droid waited beside three dilapidated ships.

"Good job, Artoo!" Luke exclaimed, hurrying toward the ship on the far right, a rusted Imperial Howlrunner with scorch marks along its fixed wings.

"The more ships, the more firepower," Han said, "so…"

"Agreed," Div said brusquely. Han was right; they needed as many ships on their side as possible. But no matter what, Div wouldn't have trusted anyone's piloting skills but his own. He chose the other Howlrunner, on the left, while Han and the Wookiee piled into the ARC-170 starfighter.

Han began to power up his ship. Luke's engines were hot and ready to go. But Div took an extra moment to inspect the exterior of his Howlrunner, making sure there was no obvious damage or hull breach; he even found a replacement for his defunct weapon in an inside compartment—a rusty but operational blaster. Maybe Luke and Han had trusted their droid to prepare the ships, but Div trusted