Star Wars: Guardians of the Whills (Star Wars: Rogue One) Read online

  Frankly, it didn’t matter.

  What mattered—all that mattered—was that it was a Sienar Fleet Systems Sentinel -class shuttle, designed to carry up to seventy-five stormtroopers into battle, with Imperial command clearances for the skies over Jedha. It was expected. It was known. Every third day, it came out of hyperspace and into Jedha’s airspace, and it flew right past the Star Destroyer, and everyone aboard that Star Destroyer overhead just smiled and nodded and said how nice it was to see you again, sir.

  “They don’t really say that,” Chirrut said.

  “It’s an expression,” Fortuna said.

  Chirrut rubbed his chin. “It would be nice if they did say that.”

  “Ignore him,” Baze said. “Go on.”

  Since the visit was an inspection, the officers didn’t arrive with their own security contingent, Fortuna explained. They relied instead on the local garrison, and even that was token until they headed out of the city. As for the shuttle, once it was unloaded, there was barely a guard force left at the spaceport, only enough to keep the landing bay secure, and the pilot, who remained aboard the ship per Imperial protocol just in case the officers needed to depart in a hurry.

  The shuttle was just sitting there.

  If it could be secured quickly, relatively quietly, and if it lifted off again roughly close to when it was expected to depart, nobody would raise an eyebrow.

  But that was the complication. Lifting off from the spaceport and leaving the moon wouldn’t raise suspicion. But if Denic instead lifted off only to buzz half the Holy City and then set down outside the orphanage to take on passengers, it didn’t matter how quickly they could get the children aboard.

  Somebody was going to notice, and noticing would lead to questions, and questioning would lead to TIE fighters.

  A Sentinel -class shuttle versus a Star Destroyer’s complement of TIE fighters would only end one way.

  “Boom,” said Chirrut.

  “Boom,” agreed Denic.

  Several plans were suggested as to how to move the children to the shuttle, or the shuttle to the children.

  They spent a week trying to determine if it would be possible to commandeer one of the assault tanks, perhaps, and use that to clear a run to the spaceport. Baze went so far as to begin plotting possible routes to use before that line of thinking was abandoned. Kaya suggested they try to acquire landspeeders, four or five of them, but the streets were so regularly congested that it would require boosting the repulsorlift fields on the vehicles until they could essentially fly. That would bring the TIEs for a visit, and quickly.

  It was actually Denic who suggested using the partisans to start some manner of distraction in another part of the city, perhaps down by the South Wall. While the Imperials were occupied, Denic could bring the shuttle in low, and if they loaded everyone aboard quickly…

  “There are over thirty children,” Killi said.

  “I know,” Denic said.

  “Have you ever tried to get thirty children to do anything quickly?” Killi asked.

  “Point taken,” Denic said.

  It was Gerrera, via Fortuna, who suggested they just walk.

  “The General believes that even Imperial stormtroopers will hesitate to open fire on children who are simply out for a walk.” Fortuna always referred to Gerrera as “the General.” “Even if they wished to, doing so in broad daylight in front of the local populace would be a deliberately inciting act of violence. They’d have a riot on their hands.”

  “You seem to think that would bother them,” Baze said.

  “It would if they were the cause of it in such an obvious manner,” Fortuna said. “A child dies in the street, caught in the crossfire? That’s a tragedy, but they overlook it. They blame us, not themselves. They blame us for fighting their tyranny. If we had just accepted their boot on our neck, this would never have happened, they say. But in numbers? Unarmed? Doing nothing but walking to a spaceport? That would be a war crime .”

  “If you’re wrong?” Chirrut asked.

  Fortuna just shook his head. He didn’t want to say it.

  Chirrut considered the idea for a very long time. He and Baze discussed it at length. Then he brought it to Killi and Kaya, and all four of them discussed it all over again, and none of them liked it, either. But they all also agreed that it was the least risky of their options, as well as the one most likely to succeed.

  “But if it goes wrong…” Kaya said.

  “This,” Chirrut said, “is what is called a test of faith.”

  Chirrut led the way beneath the ancient stone archway into the spaceport, Althin’s hand in his, the other children following close behind. He felt Althin’s grip on him tighten, understood at once that the boy had seen the stormtroopers posted at the entrance, and he thought he could feel the stormtroopers, as well, watching them. But the stormtroopers didn’t move, and didn’t challenge them. By this point, Chirrut reasoned, they surely had heard any comm traffic flying around the city about the strange parade he was leading.

  He had no idea how many people were following behind them now, but he knew there were a great many. He could feel them, the essence and energy of them, pressing at his back like a wind filling a sail.

  “It will be fine,” Chirrut told Althin. “Trust in the Force.”

  The ground changed beneath his feet, the old stonework streets of the city giving way to the brickwork of the spaceport’s promenade. Ahead of him, not so far away now, was Baze. Ahead of him, not so far away now, was their goal.

  He hoped he would have the courage to do what was required when they reached it.

  There was noise rising behind him, a mixture of voices, far too many to make out. They held some urgency, yet seemed shy of anger.

  “What is happening?” he asked Althin. “What is happening behind us?”

  Another child, to his right, answered, and he recognized her voice at once. It was B’asia, the Togruta who had been hurt when the stormtroopers raided the first orphanage.

  “The people following us, there’re too many of them, Master Îmwe,” she said. “They can’t all get through the archway, they’re all…they’re getting stuck.” She giggled. “The stormtroopers don’t know what to do!”

  “There must be a great many of them,” Chirrut said.

  “I think half the city is following us, Master Îmwe!”

  “We are looking for number eighteen, B’asia. Do you see it?”

  “Yes, it’s up ahead. It’s right over here. I can see Master Malbus!”

  He heard the girl surging forward, the sound of her steps, and he felt Althin tugging at his hand, the boy similarly speeding up. As their pace increased, so too did that of those following them, and the echo-box and Althin told him at the same time to turn, and he felt the space around them opening, the sound altering as the roof above them gave way to the sky. The hangar bay had its own distinct feel, almost cavernous, and it played with sound, and for an instant he was unsure whether it was his own senses or the echo-box or both that confused him, threatened to disorient him for an instant. Althin stopped short. Chirrut could feel the energy around him, the living energy, the Force moving between beings, and he found Baze at once, knew him instantly, as he always did when his connection was strong.

  But there was a chill, and it wasn’t from the air, and it wasn’t from his friend.

  Something was wrong.

  “Baze Malbus,” Chirrut said.

  “Gerrera’s men,” Baze said. “They’re taking the shuttle.”

  The Force is with me,

  and I am one with the Force;

  and I fear nothing,

  because all is as the Force wills it.

  —The Guardian’s Mantra, author unknown

  From Collected Poems, Prayers, and Meditations on the Force,

  Edited by Kozem Pel, Disciple of the Whills

  TENZA AND WERNAD had boarded the Sentinel as planned, and Baze had moved to cover the entrance. Then he heard the blaster shot
, muffled from within the shuttle, and he turned back to see them dragging the body of the pilot to the ramp and dumping him onto the floor of the hangar bay.

  Baze practically snarled. “There was no need for that!”

  Tenza sneered at him. “He was Imperial. If it bothers you, be assured I made it quick. I could have made him suffer.”

  “Watch the entrance,” Baze told Wernad. He holstered the Morellian and moved to the pilot’s body. Their plan had been to restrain the pilot, keep him in binders aboard the shuttle in case they needed him to help fly the ship, or to provide any Imperial clearances they might need. Then Denic and Kaya would release him whenever they reached their destination. Now, Baze’s immediate thought was of the children and what they would see when they arrived. He didn’t want them having to step over a fresh corpse to board the Sentinel.

  The floor of the hangar bay was stone, worn smooth by age and countless landings and takeoffs, and here and there it shone as reflective as glass. The pilot’s helmet was still in place, but his body was already cooling as Baze hoisted him over his shoulder. He moved the body off to the side of the bay, out of the direct line of sight, set him down, and then went back and did the same for each of the stormtroopers. He was aware of Wernad glancing from the entrance of the bay and back to him as he worked. Tenza had disappeared back into the shuttle. He could hear noise from the promenade, a growing wave of sound, and he knew that Chirrut and the children and Killi and Kaya and Denic, all of them, had to be close, would be here in minutes.

  Baze had just finished shifting the last of the bodies when more of Gerrera’s men arrived, this time Fortuna and Sperado. Each had a large satchel slung across his back. They passed Wernad without stopping, heading straight for the shuttle’s ramp. Baze moved to intercept them.

  “You’re supposed to be watching their approach,” Baze said. “In case they need support.”

  “They do not need support,” Fortuna said, and tried to get around him, but Baze adjusted and didn’t let him pass. “They will be here in moments. Everything is going according to plan.”

  “Whose plan?”

  “The General’s plan, of course.”

  “The General’s plan was to get these children off Jedha.”

  “No,” Fortuna said. “That was your plan. This is too great an opportunity to ignore. We must seize it.”

  Baze started forward, reaching for the Morellian on his back, but there was no way it would be a quick draw, and his hand wasn’t halfway to the cannon before Sperado had his blaster free from its holster and pointed at his middle. Baze froze. Fortuna shook his head slightly.

  “I was afraid this might happen.” The Twi’lek looked at Sperado. “Keep him here. Give me your satchel.”

  Sperado slipped the strap off his shoulder and handed the satchel to Fortuna, his aim never wavering. Fortuna headed for the shuttle. The sound off the promenade had expanded, growing even louder. Chirrut and the children were close now, very close, and who knew how many others were coming with them.

  “There are thirty-four children coming,” Baze said. “They are on their way. And they will see you holding your gun on me. Is that what you want them to see?”

  Sperado hesitated, then stepped back and reholstered his blaster as smoothly as he had drawn it.

  “I really don’t want to have to shoot you,” Sperado said.

  Baze didn’t bother with an answer, just started for the entrance into the bay. He was halfway there when the Togruta girl came into sight, rounding the corner, and then Althin, pulling on Chirrut’s hand. More of the children were right behind them, and they all were funneling into the bay, and Chirrut was heading toward him. He could see it in Chirrut’s face, the brief furrowing of his brow, the tightening of his lips into a line. He knew something was wrong; he didn’t need Baze to say it.

  But Baze said it anyway.

  “Gerrera’s men,” Baze said. “They’re taking the shuttle.”

  Chirrut’s expression went flat for an instant. Beside him, still holding his hand, Althin’s eyes widened, seemed to double in size. Chirrut slipped his hand free from the boy’s, both of his own coming together on his staff. Past him, Baze could now see Killi and Kaya, and Denic at the back, ushering the children forward. Confused expressions on their faces turned to worry.

  “No,” Chirrut said. “They shall not.”

  He started forward, and Baze turned to walk beside him. After a moment’s hesitation Althin followed, and as soon as he moved, so did the others. Sperado came around to their left side, trying to keep pace. He wore, Baze saw, twin blasters, a double rig worn quick-draw style, and his furred hands hovered over their grips, but he had yet to draw. Wernad was hurrying to catch up, to flank them on their right.

  “Master Îmwe,” Sperado said. “Please, do not do this.”

  “These children have walked the length of the city,” Chirrut said, without breaking his stride. “They have been promised a ride in a shuttle for their efforts. I do not wish to see them disappointed. Do you, Kullbee Sperado?”

  “Don’t let them on board. You cannot let them on board.”

  They were approaching the base of the loading ramp, now. Baze looked back, saw that all the children, Killi, Kaya, Denic—everyone was with them. Past them, the entrance to the bay was absolutely clogged with men and women, citizens of Jedha trying to see what was going on.

  “Stormtroopers will be here soon,” Baze said.

  “It will take them a while to disperse the crowd,” Chirrut said.

  “Provided they don’t do it violently.”

  Chirrut nodded slightly. To Sperado, he said, “Why?”

  Fortuna, at the top of the ramp, answered for him.

  “Because the people need a symbol of hope,” the Twi’lek said. He spoke loudly, projecting for everyone in the bay to hear him. The low rumble of voices died away, people falling silent to listen. “Saw Gerrera will give them one.”

  “These children are a symbol of hope,” Baze said.

  “Look!” Fortuna pointed skyward, and everyone listening looked up.

  All of them except for Chirrut, and perhaps because of that, Chirrut understood precisely what it was Gerrera wanted to do.

  “Look at the symbol of your oppression!” Fortuna shouted. “How it hangs over all your heads, how it casts its shadow over all of your lives! We cannot live this way! We must fight them!”

  There was a ripple of confusion through the crowd. Althin reached for Chirrut’s hand and instead took hold of his robe at the elbow, gripping it tight.

  “Just how large does an explosive need to be to bring down a Star Destroyer?” Chirrut asked.

  The murmuring, the voices, all went suddenly, utterly silent.

  “You’d need a pretty big one,” Baze said. “If you loaded it onto a shuttle, you’d need to fly it right into the main hangar.”

  “Do you think that would do it?”

  “It might.”

  “It will,” Fortuna said.

  “I see,” Chirrut said.

  He grinned as he said it. Baze—despite everything going on around them, despite the hundreds of people behind them, and the children, and Killi, and Kaya, and Denic, despite the fact that they were rapidly running out of time before the stormtroopers broke through the human shield that the citizens of the Holy City had made for them—felt himself grinning as well.

  “So Saw Gerrera would trade a future for these children to strike a blow against the Empire?” Chirrut asked.

  Fortuna jabbed a long-nailed index finger skyward again. “He would free Jedha!”

  “That is not what will happen,” said Baze.

  “My friend is correct,” Chirrut said. “And neither you, nor Saw Gerrera, nor anyone else here is fool enough to think that it will.”

  “We must fight them!” Fortuna said.

  The words made Chirrut straighten slightly. He canted his head.

  “Wernad,” Chirrut said. “Is that you? I think I feel you here.”

>   “Yes,” the Trandoshan said. His voice was almost a whisper, and yet it carried throughout the hangar. “I am here.”

  “You said the same thing to me.”

  “I did, I remember.”

  “And now you do, it seems. And this is how you will do it. Do you remember what I said to you?”

  “‘Not with the innocent,’” Wernad said.

  Chirrut nodded to himself, canted his head the other direction. “You asked me to pray for you, Kullbee Sperado. Is this the place you were looking for?”

  Sperado did not answer.

  Chirrut extended his hand to the side, holding his walking stick. Baze took it from him. Chirrut dropped to his haunches, wrapped his arms around Althin, and lifted the boy, holding him much as he had the day he had found him, weeping, over his parents. The arm had healed well. The other wounds had not, yet.

  “They were promised a ride in a shuttle,” Chirrut said to Baze.

  “And you cannot stand to disappoint them.”

  Chirrut’s grin was almost gleeful. “You know me very well.”

  “Right,” Baze said. He turned and faced the children. “Come on, then.”

  Chirrut started up the ramp, and Baze took the Togruta girl’s hand and followed. Fortuna stepped out of Chirrut’s way, realized what he was doing, and started to move back to block Baze.

  “Think about everyone who is watching us.” Baze met Fortuna’s eyes. His voice was level. His voice was calm. Yet each word seemed to have his entire weight, all his strength, standing behind it. “And then think, very carefully, about what the General would want you to do next.”

  “The General will never forgive this.”

  “He won’t have to,” Baze said. “Our relationship with Saw Gerrera is over.”

  Fortuna hesitated.

  Then he moved out of the way.

  Baze led the girl into the shuttle and was only mildly surprised to see that Sperado and Wernad had followed them. More and more children were ushered aboard, Killi and Kaya moving among them, getting them into their seats. Chirrut was crouched on his haunches, facing Althin, now seated as well. Denic ascended the ramp but had to step out of the way as Tenza was ushered out by Wernad and Sperado, each of them carrying one of the satchels.