Aftermath: Empire's End (Star Wars: Aftermath #3)(118)

No turbolasers. No defenses at all. An unlocked door. Worry seized her: Was Rax even here? Were they too late?

Now she knows. He’s here. This ends.

Rax looks unarmed, as well. She sees no holster at his hip. Only him standing there, shoulders back, chest puffed out in his white naval uniform, a red cape sweeping behind him. My, he looks pleased with himself, she thinks. A smug twist to his lips adds further demonstration.

She thinks to punch that smug look right off his face.

“Did you see the show?” Rax asks her.

“I did,” she answers. “Was it all for me?”

“No. The whole galaxy was my audience. But you…” He kisses the air. “You know more than most. Which means you understood it better than almost anybody else.”

“I don’t understand any of it. So why don’t you explain it to me?” She holds up both her hands and gives a little shrug. “You’re so proud of what you did here. Tell me. What was this all about, Counselor? Or should I call you Galli? Precious little orphan.”

That stings him. He tries not to show it, but his lip twitches, his brow flinches. Her barb lands. “I don’t have time for this. I am leaving.”

Her hands form fists. “Only way out is through me.”

“So be it.” Rax walks toward her. Slow determination seems to urge him forward, the same determination of a predator stalking its prey—sure-footed, but with an easy, affable gait. Almost as if to say, Don’t worry your little whiskers about me. I won’t hurt you, little creature.

“I will say this,” Rax comments as he takes one deliberate step after the next. “You were so close to it. We were so close. I always thought you’d be with me here at the end. And here you are.” His face goes sour. “Just not how I pictured it.”

“You still thought I’d work with you? After Akiva? After Chandrila? You threw me into the fire again and again.”

“Fire forges some blades.” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hands, like someone throwing away a bit of garbage. “And it ruins others.”

He’s dead ahead of her now. Rax stops walking. He smiles.

“I’m not letting you leave here alive,” she says.

“How does this work, then? I don’t have a blaster.” He tugs back the curtain of his cape to show the void of weapons at either side. “I suppose I should have brought one. You should have, too.”

“If wishes were starships—”

He finishes the refrain: “Then farmers would fly.”

Sloane pitches forward into the breach, moving fast. Everything has been coming to this moment and she’s like a compressed spring coming unsprung—like she’s been saving up all that hatred and all that rage, tamping it down deep, so deep that it’s ready to burst out like a scalding geyser. The rage and the hate end at the front of her fist.

Rax isn’t a boxer. He hasn’t had to fight his own fight since forever—maybe since never. He doesn’t see the hit coming.

The fist clubs him in the nose. It gives way with a pop.

He goes down, and she drops atop him, snarling.

—

At the computer, Brentin’s fingers move hesitantly over the keys. He hits one button and the holoscreen flashes angrily, a pulse of red light filling the room. Brentin curses and closes his eyes, refocusing.

The ground quakes again, sending her heart into her throat. Norra sees the percentage dwindling. Now it’s down to 47.

“We should’ve given her the blaster,” Brentin says suddenly.

“What?”

“Sloane. She’s alone. And unarmed.”

Norra bares her teeth at him, then gestures at him with the weapon. “Brentin, I don’t even know which part is you and which part is the chip in your head. Until we get it out, I’ll never know. Just turn this thing off.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, staring down at the keys, his fingers moving frantically. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“Now isn’t the time.”

“Now might be the only time, Norra. I want you to know, the man who did those things on Chandrila—it wasn’t me.”

“…I know. But I also don’t know which man you are now.”

“I’m me. It’s not the chip.”

“So why are you with her?” Norra seethes. “She’s the enemy, Brentin. The one you promised to fight against with tooth and claw when you joined the Rebellion. And now here you are, traveling with her? Maybe that chip in your head scrambled your brain, but she’s not your wife.”

“She isn’t with the Empire anymore.”

“Oh. That’s comforting. I’m sure that erases everything she’s done.”

“It doesn’t. I know it doesn’t. But…” Her husband utters a wordless moan that devolves into a frustrated growl. The screen suddenly flashes red again and he squeezes both of his hands into fists. “I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t, okay? All I know is, even if I wasn’t in control of myself, I did a bad thing and I want to fix it. Sloane wanted the same thing, I think, and we found ourselves together here with common purpose—”

“?‘Together.’ That’s great.”

“Not like that,” he pleads. “Please. I love you. I’m here for you. And for Tem. I wanted to do something right to counteract the wrong I’d done. Being on Jakku, it felt good. It felt like justice.”