The Chosen One: A Reylo Story

Chapter 9: The Fire

"Watch out!"

Blaster fire whizzes by less than a foot in front of Rey. She's crouched behind an overturned landcruiser. She fights the urge to peek out again at their attackers ahead.

She leans back against the cruiser and rests the hilt of her blaster on her cheek. She brings her commlink up to her lips.

"How many more are there?"

Crackles, and then silence.

"About twenty," Jor's voice reemerges, panting.

"And you're sure there's only one way in?" She double checks with him.

"Rey, this dome was built to keep slaves inside of it. Yes, I'm sure."

She brings her index finger to her lip for a moment, thinking.

"How much time do we have?" She asks.

"I don't know... I... based on my sensors I'd say we have about three and half minutes before the bomb goes off. And I'm going to need at least thirty seconds to diffuse it."

For a second, the comm goes dead.

"Rey," Jor's voice breaks through again, sounding heavy, "I think... I really hate to say this... but I think... it may be time for us to pull out."

Rey exhales sharply. She hangs her neck, resting her forehead on the back of her hand.

She snaps back up and brings the comm to her lips. "In thirty seconds, I want you to run for that door."

"Rey," Jor responds with a tinge of alarm, "I don't want to see all those people die any more than you do, but there's no point in sacrificing our lives for nothing. There's four of us and twenty of them. There's no way any one of us can get to that door without being blown to pieces."

"Thirty seconds, then go for it," she tells him again.

She places her blaster on the ground beside her, and unhooks her lightsaber from her waist.

She switches it on and it crackles to life, one side glowing blue and one side glowing red. She likes this one... feels more like a quarterstaff.

She stands and bursts out from behind the cruiser, charging towards her attackers, deflecting blaster fire with her saber, dodging it, weaving around it. It's if she can feel every individual plasma shot leave its weapon and fly towards her on its course, a course she can sense almost without trying.

She leaps up to the large deck surrounding the outer rim of the dome. It's meant to be an open deck, for leisurely strolling, but it's been crudely fortified with junk, whatever's laying around it seems—metal crates, tables, sleeping pads.

There are eleven on her right and seven on her left. All eyes are on her, all blaster fire on her, as she descends from the air onto the deck.

She lands with both feet, still deflecting blaster fire, twirling her lightsaber all around her. With a wave of a hand, she casts the crude barricade on the edge of the deck towards the right, crashing it into oncoming slavers, knocking many of them back and down.

She turns and begins swinging and slashing precisely, disarming the slavers to her left by whatever means necessary, even if that means taking a few limbs. She turns to the right briefly, Force-slamming an onslaught of would-be attackers back.

She continues her progress to the left. Three standing now. One's running away. She Force-commands the weapons out of the hands of the two remaining slavers, casting them to the side. They back away, terrified. With one quick, fluid movement of her arm, she flings both men over the deck and out into the night.