The Beginning Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
The cockpit of Lyra's battered freighter rattled with every gust of wind, the hull groaning like an old man's bones. She sat hunched in the pilot's seat, running a quiet systems check while Hondo Ohnaka's latest cargo clanked softly in the hold behind her. Another job, another coin purse to keep her head above water. Not that Hondo would ever let her drown, even if he didn't tell her that. She's been working for the old pirate turned trader for years now, their history running thick with hardship. He had saved her once; he'd do it again.
Lyra let out a breath, her lips set in a tight line while she waited for the buyer. She always got nervous when she ran jobs alone, although she never told Hondo that. Time slipped away, and just before Lyra was going to call it, the buyer arrived. "Took you long enough," she grumbled before opening the hold. The exchange was quick, cargo delivered, payment secured. She returned to the cockpit, firing the engines. The ship began its climb into atmo, Lyra gritting her teeth and pulling the yoke up as she fought against the cross winds. Finally, breaking free of the planet's gravity, she made the jump to hyperspace. Stars swirled around her into the familiar whirr of blue and white. Settling into her chair, she silently patted herself on the back. Then, from across the cockpit, a small ping rang through the air. It blipped once. Twice. A repeating signal, faint but insistent. She frowned, moving towards the comms. The message unfolded across the screen, the words sending a shockwave through Lyra's entire body.
General Leia Organa calls for aid. First Order attack on Crait.
A plea, broadcast through a dozen systems. Lyra's breath caught, her pulse roaring in her ears. She knew that call. She knew her. For a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't think. She just sat there staring as the hum of the engines filled the silence. Answering that call would mean stepping out of the shadows, out of the safety net she had built around herself brick by brick. It would mean exposing everything she had spent years protecting, and subsequently running from.
Her hand hovered over the comms switch. A minute passed, then another. She didn't answer. Instead, she moved back to the pilot's seat, her jaw clenched. Shame burned hot in her belly. But she had her own job to do.
By the time she stumbled back into her own home, the adrenaline had burned away, leaving the hollow ache of sadness in its wake. She collapsed into bed, boots still on, face in her pillow. A scream ripped from her chest, feral and raw, followed by sobs she couldn't be bothered to stop. The tears flowed, hot and angry, until sleep dragged her under. She dreamt of her mother's voice, her father's shadow, a young man with dark hair and fire in his eyes. A family now lost and broken.
When Lyra rose the next morning, the twin suns of Batuu had barely begun to rise. Dawn still clung to the clearing around her small stone dwelling, morning dew coating the steps leading down toward the outpost. She stumbled into the kitchen, eyes still swollen from the tears she shed the night before. She poured herself a cup of caf before sinking into one of the mismatched dining chairs. The chair across from her sat empty, almost mocking her. Another sob broke loose before she could stop it. She pressed her hand to her mouth, rocking softly in the silence. Tears spilled down her cheeks once more, soaking into the neck of her tunic.
But then, something stirred. A flicker. A spark she hadn't felt in years. It started small, a whisper of something tugging at her chest. Her breath evened out, tears drying slowly in rivers across her cheeks. She rose from her seat and crossed the room toward her travel pack. Reaching in, Lyra fished out her data pad. She had scanned the ping from last night, trying to trace its location. It was roaming, still unsettled. Something hummed, deep in her chest. If Leia was calling for help, things had gone from desperate to worse. And if no one else had answered... then maybe it was her turn.
Lyra's hands shook as she pulled the data pad closer. She found the signal again, tracing the frequency. With a shaky breath, she locked onto the signal. She opened an encrypted channel, typing one word: Brightstar.
A name not spoken in years, but one given to her by the strongest woman in the galaxy. Lyra hit send quickly before letting the data pad clatter to the kitchen counter.
Lyra blinked, the memory fading. She placed her datapad back in her pack, grabbing the Resistance issue one instead. She lowered herself onto the bunk slowly, the palms of her gloved hands pressing into her eyes. The weight of that choice had carried her here. Back to Leia. To the Resistance. To whatever would come next. Shaking away the feeling, she crossed to the small fresher.
She cleaned herself quickly, exhaustion seeping out of her pores in waves. When she was finished, she tied her hair in a loose braid before crashing back down onto the bunk, her new data pad in hand. The last thing she saw before her eyes fell closed was the running lines of intel she had brought here, already uploaded into the resistance database. Whatever tomorrow brought, Lyra would be ready.
Lyra wasn't sure how long she had been asleep when her eyes flew open, her hand shooting instinctively to the blaster lying on the nightstand. She sat up with a jerk, her ears honing in on a noise coming from the hallway outside. What sounded like something rolling, the stone hallway making a low noise as whatever it was picked up speed. Lyra crossed the room, putting her ear to the door. As the noise grew closer, she recognized the distinctive whirring, followed by what sounded like the indignant chirp of a droid. She stepped into the hallway as another round of agitated beeps came from somewhere around the corner, followed by what sounded like heavy boots. Lyra watched, her brows drawn together, as the noise drew closer. Then, a voice cut through the hallway.
"BB-8, I'm sorry! Buddy, where are you going?" a male voice called, farther away than whatever he was chasing. "What do you mean you're telling Leia?! It's the middle of the night, pal. She's asleep," the voice attempted a whisper, but it was no use.
Lyra leaned back against her doorframe, arms folded, waiting to see exactly who and what had thought this was a good idea. As she watched the end of the hallway, a small orange and white droid came barreling down it, right towards her. It let out another warble of sound when it spotted her, almost picking up speed. Lyra tried to hide the laugh that threatened to bubble out, but it was squashed quickly as the little droid whizzed past her, almost crushing her toes.
"What the - shit," She jumped back, barely missing the doorframe. The droid gave a beeping apology before continuing, hell bent on whatever point he was trying to make.
"BB-8!" the voice was closer now, rough with exertion and more than a little exasperated. "Would you slow down?!"
The droid answered with a series of sharp beeps that needed no translation. Lyra caught the gist: reckless, careless, left me behind again.
"I know, I know," the voice huffed, and then he appeared: broad shoulders in a bright orange flight suit, hair in a glorious mess that suggested helmet hair and bad decisions. He skidded to a halt when he spotted her, mouth parting like he hadn't expected an audience. Lyra blinked at him, the realization of who he was hitting her immediately.
"I'm sorry for all the noise; it's been a weird day." An apologetic smile spread across his handsome features.
Lyra arched a brow. "Let me guess. He's the responsible one?"
The corner of his mouth kicked up, like a smirk was his default setting. "Depends who you ask."
"I just did," she said, nodding at the droid, who beeped triumphantly.
The pilot chuckled, low and warm. "Traitor," he muttered at BB-8, before tipping his chin at her. "Hope he didn't wake you."
"I don't think it's me you need to worry about," Lyra said easily, tilting her head. "Though if this is your idea of a quiet night, I'd hate to see what loud looks like."
That earned her a proper grin. Cocky, sun-bright, and maybe a little curious. He lingered a beat too long, eyes flicking over her like he was trying to place her.
"You new?" he asked finally, voice softening in interest.
Just then, BB-8 made contact with the General's door. It sounded down the hallway with a clanging echo, the little droid slamming himself into it over and over again. Other doors in the hallway began to open now. Resistance members, bleary-eyed in the late hour, peeked out at the scene. The door at the end of the hall flew open, and BB-8 went crashing inside. More clanging came from the room within, followed by a few low, apologetic beeps.
"Dameron, you nerf herder! Get your droid out of my room right now, or so help me," The General stepped out of her quarters and into the hallway, an exasperated look on her face.
Lyra clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh threatening to break free.
The pilot straightened like he was under enemy fire. "General, I—I swear, I tried to stop him. He's just... persistent."
BB-8 beeped a shrill defense from behind her ankles, his head a little lopsided from the crash.
"Persistent?" Leia repeated, eyes narrowing. "You let him barrel down my corridor like a blaster bolt in the middle of the night."
Poe winced but rallied, flashing that same grin he'd just given Lyra, as though charm might be a shield. "With respect, General, I think he was just worried about me."
Leia's glare could have cut durasteel. "You don't say."
Lyra, leaning against her doorframe, finally lost the battle with her grin. Poe caught it, a blush starting to creep slowly up his neck.
"Get him out of here, Dameron. Now. And if either of you wakes this wing again, I will personally see to it that you're grounded for a week."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, snapping into contrition with practiced ease. Then, under his breath, just loud enough for Lyra to catch: "Worth it."
BB-8 gave a smug beep as Poe crouched to herd him down the hall.
Before following, Poe glanced back at Lyra one more time. That grin was back, softer now, more curious than cocky. And then he was gone, footsteps fading with the droid's light chirps.
Leia exhaled slowly, turning to face the few others who still lingered in the hallway. "False alarm, everyone." She waved her hands slightly, exasperation in her voice, "Just Dameron being the glorious idiot he always is." The rest of the onlookers slowly drifted back to their beds, some grumbling, some laughing. For half a second, Lyra braced herself. Leia's eyes were locked on her.
"Don't encourage him," she said, though the fondness under her tone betrayed her.
"I didn't," Lyra answered, lips twitching.
"He's a good guy, just has his head in his cockpit most of the time instead of down on solid ground," Leia said, shaking her head with a smile.
"Looks like this place is full of surprises," Lyra said, looking back in the direction the man headed.
"More than you know," Leia shook her head.
"So that's Poe Dameron, huh?" Lyra asked, throwing her thumb over her shoulder.
"And his 'persistent' droid." Leia deadpanned.
Lyra giggled, her eyes looking back toward the now-empty hallway. "Funny," she turned back to Leia, whose smile had broken across her face. "I thought he would be taller."
"The posters don't do him justice, apparently," Leia said, throwing a wink in the younger woman's direction. Lyra rolled her eyes but smiled.
Lyra padded back into her room, the door closing behind her with a soft hiss. She walked over to the bed, grabbing the datapad she had fallen asleep with. She was awake now, might as well put it to use.
Poe walked quietly down the corridor, BB-8 still humming at his heels. He looked down at the small droid, shaking his head.
"You can't just run off like that, buddy." BB-8 gave another little warble as if to say 'watch me'. Poe couldn't help when a smile cracked across his face.
His thoughts drifted back to the hallway, the woman standing in the doorway watching everything unfold. A new face, one he knew he would remember. He could still hear the soft quip she had said, sharp and amused. It lodged annoyingly in his brain. By the time he reached his quarters, Finn was already waiting for him, stretched across the bunk with a datapad in his hand.
"Where've you been?" Finn grinned, tossing the data pad onto the bed.
Poe set his hands on his hips and shot a look at BB-8, who was rolling innocently in place. "Had to hunt down a rogue droid. He thought it would be a good idea to fling himself into the General's quarters."
Finn's eyes went wide before a laugh ripped from his chest. "You're joking."
"Nope," Poe rubbed a hand across his face, groaning. "Woke up half the wing doing it, too."
Finn let out another laugh, leaning back into the mattress. "Oh, I bet Leia was pissed."
"Livid," Poe grinned, toeing off his boots. "She threatened to ground me for a week if it happens again." Finn let out another laugh that shook the walls. Poe just grinned, continuing to undress. He was halfway through unzipping his flight suit when his mind drifted back to the mystery woman.
"There was a new girl down there. Haven't seen her before." He slung the jumpsuit onto a nearby chair before heading into the fresher. "You heard about any new recruits?"
Finn propped himself up on an elbow, a puzzled look on his face. "Not since a couple weeks ago. Wait," He sat up fully, his eyes searching the ceiling. "Didn't Jess go pick up that operative today? The one that's been in the field. What was her name again?" He snapped his fingers, trying to jog his memory.
"Valkyrie," Poe said as he stepped from the fresher. He had changed into his civvies, a Henley pushed up to the elbows and soft pants. His curls dripped softly on the front of his shirt. His gaze flicked to Finn's as he crossed the room, taking a seat beside his friend. "But that can't be right... she looked so..."
"So what?" Finn asked, a grin tugging at his lips.
Poe shook his head, lips quirking up. "I don't know, put together." He pulled a face before adding, "I pictured this Valkyrie as some sulking shadow with a limp and an eyepatch."
"Maybe that's her daytime look." Both men broke into a laugh then, the sound filling the room. After they composed themselves, Finn added. "I guess we'll find out at the debrief tomorrow."
"Yeah," Poe's voice was softer now. "Guess so." BB-8 gave a low whistle as if in agreement. Poe let his head thunk back against the wall, still seeing her green eyes staring at him from the doorway.
