The new fighters turned the tide with an unprecedented speed. But, truth be told, it was one in particular. The Clone Wars Holos had told of the droid horrors: machines moving faster than any man, even any Jedi. Vultures. Tri-fighters. The monster Grievous. And it seemed, after the technological setbacks of the Imperial era, they had come again. One such 'machine' was all it took to cut through Imperials and First Order like the shooting blade of an emerald lightsaber.

It was almost too fast to see. Most couldn't even see what kind of Wing it was - some would confirm that it was an X-Wing. One of the newer models, with the splitting wings and arrowhead nose, but the pilot was the real figure here, hidden by the space-black canopy. The silver dome of an astromech was also clearly visible, if you were fast enough to catch it. Droids already did so much for starfighters, it wouldn't be that big of a stretch to say that it could pilot an X-Wing on its own, right? And blast away with all five main cannons plus torpedo launchers?

First Order Eclipses, ISD-IIIs, TIE Daggers, Hexects, Clawcraft, all of them seemed to swarm in one big vortex now. The New Republic fighters did not question this, only charged straight down the monster's neck.

ARC-215 Corkscrews, X-177 Knlgrs, T-80 and -85 X-Wings, V-Wings, B-Wings, K-Wings, all of them blasting outward in all directions like a single omnidirectional turboturret.

In the sense of battles, it was a shock. In the sense of stories to be told over the HoloNet for years to come, the image would go down in infamy. The thunderstorm of cannonfire mirrored the atmosphere pretty well.

The X-Wing led the charge. And it was the first to break the two-fleet blockade.

Two shots, and the fifteenth Terror Trooper dropped. Around a corner came two more alien stormtroopers. She put them down before they could trip over the pile of other bodies.

She panted, hung her arms against the doorway for support. Someone, she'd lost track who, had shot out the opening mechanism. Her staff was dropped carelessly at her feet; bending down to pick it up would be impossible without falling over.

She slowly twisted a glance back. Bee Bee had two long cables in his hand.

Quietly, slurred: "How's… progress?"

"Dandy. Give us one - " She fired. Four more stormtroopers were coming down the hallway like a wall of fire, blasters going off crazily. At least two bolts whistled by her torso - a third hit her in the lower leg. She dropped, trying to yell and failing. The fire never stopped, and neither did hers. With the one arm she still had feeling in, she returned the favor, taking out their legs. She didn't hear him finish any part of that.

The last of the stormtroopers took up position behind the barricade of bodies she'd made. Had the Rodian not been so delirious, she might've come up with something better. Same went for the barely-half-focused Rey, who needed six shots to get to this Imperial, and eight before she dropped. She'd exhaust the cartridge before long, if blasters still worked how she remembered them.

She tried to push herself up. She couldn't. Something about how she lay put pressure on her side wound. She tried reaching behind her back for her staff, agitating a couple other wounds. But, clamping her eyes shut and forgetting pain was bad, she managed to grab of hold of it and get it in front of her. She stuck one of the blaster pistols in her belt and used both hands to try and haul herself up. She let herself forget about the other one completely.

It took several tries, a decent amount of pain and a good portion of her lungs, but she was back to her feet. She felt for her belt, half-hoping to find that razordisk again. Unfortunately, there was only that blaster pistol.

She could hardly see down the corridor. Her lungs felt like black rocks. She doubted her own limbs still existed.

I've faced it many times, but I don't think I've ever been this close. I just hope the view's better in whatever comes next. Father, Mother, Brother, I leave you.

If anything else came around that corner, she would dig a well within herself, funnel the last of her life Force - pull some extra from the air itself, even. The effort would kill her, but that part would be of no consequence.

What mattered was that the two droids - what were their names again? - would accomplish… something. Again, of no consequence.

Charlie had all the right wires still exposed. Wiring him up was not hard, especially to the deft gyromech whose specialty had been delicate equipment.

All that remained would be to throw the switch. If the girl could dole out blasterfire enough to let them do this.

To kill his companion. He might even use the word 'friend'. Their protector was dying, too. Heat was leaving her body, he'd seen dripping spots of blood on and off since the Ren had attacked, clear signs of delirium and feebleness. She should've died already.

The ironic, part, he decided, was that Poe was wrong: they'd stayed together, but each would die alone.

Ready… friend?

"Getting adventurous with our vocabulary, are we?"

Reckon so. Is there… something you'd like to say, before we go through with it?

The dome paused for a moment. Then spoke. He was warbled.

"Hmm. I'm… there's so much, actually. I wish I could've been a fleshbag. Do this for me: learn what you can, in whatever time you have left. Be more. Otherwise… Otherwise, just get it over with."

Beebee could not feel shame, but that was the word which came to mind as he keyed in the new command.

He ended with 'transmit'.

A computation droid's brain is specialized: quick processing of copious data, resistance to viruses and overloads, speedy transfers and creative analyses. Within two seconds, the droid ceased to exist, its stored data dumped in its entirety to the Net transmitter. Personality and related subroutines stayed in the shell, wiped completely.

Beebee found the files that he and the deceased had shared, and routed them through the transmission tower.

Inside the facility, and outside for possibly two miles in every direction, the hum of a databurst was comparable to a mob's screams. Beebee heard it, Rey heard it, everyone fighting throughout the base heard it.

And with a databurst - a step up from the usual live feeds - the bright discharge from the tower is like a lightsaber being ignited. There were plenty outside who saw it:

Kylo and Serbris Ren saw it.

Over hologram, Snoke saw it, and General Hux beside him.

Unkar Plutt, Wiles and the Teedos saw it.

The X-Wing and astromech saw it.

Thrawn saw it.

The deserting junkers saw it, along with every other Jakkui being within a thousand kilometers of Net Station.

The fleets above the planet saw it. The red discharge cast a beam through the vortex of ships, stretching out as far as light may go before hitting something it cannot pass.

But the real spectacle was the data - the data which has now been sent, to every corner of the universe with a HoloNet receptor on any channel. The mission set out by two rogue First Order astronomers has finally been completed. Rey hadn't cared what it was, neither of the droids could really comprehend it, but everyone who did - and everyone who didn't - now knew what it was.

The Dagobah-green X-Wing put down landing gear outside the station. Its cockpit opened, allowing its passenger to dismount before rapidly closing again. He would've gladly bantered with the astromech at most times, but this time was not most others.

"You have the ship: patrol for stragglers." The silver-blue R2 unit wheepled understanding, then lifted off again with a distinct mechanization. Leaving the black-clad occupant to walk into the station.

If he thought the battle overhead was fierce, he hadn't seen the inside. As far as he gathered, ejected Imperials had made a plan to take it back from the inside, and they and the new tenants had been reduced to petty children with large guns. And… someone new, a third party.

He walked slowly, following the impulse to explore the outer edges of the interior before reaching its heart. He followed a semicircular corridor around the outside, taking note of the First Order sense of decoration: suffocating amounts of red and reflective black, the psychological swallowing of all who entered in infinite Darkness. He saw the bodies everywhere, most of them called out from various rooms in the complex to walk right to their deaths. It'd been savage, as he'd found war often was. And he didn't feel the presence of that Other out here…

He doubled back, following until the sensation surrounding him was dragging him by the arm, pulling him into the open doorway where he saw it had all taken place.

All the new death, if you think of it as a smell, was enough to make him gag, even choke. But at least one of them was not dead - not yet, at least.

He crouched over the girl, contemplating if he should even do this at all. He'd killed before, he'd let others die before. She was a heavy contributor to the Darkness here, yet… He could not deny her the chance. He owed this to her.

Luke Skywalker placed a black-gloved hand on the girl's forehead. The life Force of the world itself became a one-way circuit, flowing through him into the recipient.

Rey opened her eyes, blinked several times. Something about the old man's face was… like a sense of deja vu. She'd seen the wide, old eyes and grimly wise expression before.

"Now I think we're even," he told her. She had no idea what he meant. "Come with me, we don't have long before reinforcements arrive."