The Force Awakens

Chapter 3

Finn tried to get comfortable in the gun turret. The controls resembled those shown on broadcasts for classic starship collectors. There were plenty of nifty gauges and switches, but nowhere could he find an ON button. The Corellian freighter was a genuine antique. But it could fly—boy, this baby could fly. Finn felt the power of the engines thrumming through the conduits of the ship. Niima Outpost quickly disappeared, replaced by dunes of sand. Whether the freighter was fast enough to outrace the two First Order TIEs remained to be seen.

"Stay low," he said into his headset mic, "and put up the shields—if they work!"

The Reys voice crackled in his earpiece. "Flying this thing isn't as easy as it looks."

Finn swung back and forth in the turret, getting dizzy. The seat's gyros were so loose that even a wiggle would swivel it. "Try sitting in this thing!"

"Hold on! We're going low!" I replied.

Low we went, plunging the freighter toward the desert, then pulling up and slowing to skim the surface. We flew so close we lopped off the tops of a couple of sand dunes. The TIEs zoomed over us to avoid a crash, raining down fire with their cannons.

Luckily, I had gotten the shields up in time. Laser fire sizzled and died before it could damage the freighter.

"You ever gonna fire back?" My voice rang in his earpiece.

"Working on it!" He pressed every button and toggled every switch. He didn't know what did it, but the targeting computer suddenly came online. Holding the triggers in his hands, Finn fired the quad lasers at the TIEs.

All his shots missed.

"I thought you said you were a gunner?" I ask him, noticing his failed shots.

"Blasters, not ships." The TIEs looped to attack. He continued to fire, having no luck. "We need cover! Quick!"

"We're about to get some," Rey commed back.

Her idea of cover concerned Finn and I. She steered the freighter toward what could only have been a former war zone. Demolished vehicles and starships spread out for kilometers, forming a terrifying obstacle course where one wrong turn meant certain death.

Finn kept his fingers on the triggers—and his shots finally connected. A random burst pierced a gap in one of the TIE's shields and took out a wing. The starfighter smashed into the hull of a wrecked capital ship. Finn let out a cheer. "That was lucky!"

"Nice shot!" the Rey said.

Our celebration didn't last long. The other TIE unleashed a barrage that hammered the freighter's shields. The impact rocked Finn in his seat and jammed the turret in place. He couldn't swivel, meaning he couldn't target—he could only fire.

"Cannons are stuck in the forward position," he said. "I can't move 'em—so you gotta lose 'em!"

Rey and I tried to shake our pursuer by diving into the center engine thruster of an Imperial Super Star Destroyer. All of a sudden we were speeding through a tight maze of shattered beams and crumpled walls.

"Are we really doing this?" Finn asked in disbelief.

"Get ready!" I commed.

"Ready for what?"

The narrow confines hadn't scared off the TIE. Its pilot tracked every move we made and pelted the freighter with lasers.

After a quick climb, we broke out of the destroyer into blue skies. Finn lurched in his harness when I decelerated and cranked the freighter around to face our pursuer. The enemy fighter emerged from the destroyer, dead center in Finn's crosshair. I had lined up his target for him. All he had to do was fire. Which he did.