I barely got those words out—I still can’t believe I said them at all. I was still struggling to breathe after feeling Vader’s invisible hand around my neck.

Air rushed back into my lungs, the hard, unforgiving metal of the hangar floor scraping against my knees. A good kind of pain—the kind that reminded me I was still alive.

Vader turned his back to me and sheathed his lightsaber. For the first time, I wondered what it would feel like when it touched my skin, blazed through bone and sinew, taking my life in an instant.

I’d thought…that was what I wanted.

But for those few seconds where I couldn’t breathe, where my vision started to blur and go black…

I realized that any method of death would always have those terrifying last breaths. That moment where you know you’re going to die.

I thought of my mother, of Amidala. They’d both known. They’d both devolved into fear.

And for the first time…my exciting, action-packed new job didn’t seem quite so exciting anymore.

Because I knew my face just now, when Vader had tried to choke the life out of me…it had that same fear.

I was weak.

Vader turned from me, studying the hangar.

APHRA:

I—

DARTH VADER:

Silence. You will answer for this.

APHRA (narration):

He raised a hand again and brought down the entire hangar ceiling.

He was on one side of the resulting avalanche—and me and my ship were on the other. I heard the muffled sounds of him greeting the stormtroopers and his new adjutant. Telling them I’d prepared “a trap.”

I wasted no more time. Even though the wind had been knocked out of me, I scrambled to my feet and got myself onto my ship.

This time, Vader had given me my door. I’d pretty much forced him to.

And I knew he’d make me pay for that.

SCENE 32

INT. THE ARK ANGEL. MOMENTS LATER.

APHRA (narration):

Despite being pursued by an Imperial cruiser and a whole mess of TIE

fighters, we managed to pilot our way through the Spire’s gaseous storm—the one The Ante thought was so attractive…

APHRA:

You know, I think The Ante was right—these storms really are pretty!

TRIPLE-ZERO:

I would concur, assuming you meant “pretty likely to kill you.”

BEETEE:

BLEEP!

TRIPLE-ZERO:

I have to agree, Beetee, being terminated would curtail our future plans for havoc. Can we make speed, Mistress Aphra?

APHRA:

Almost through. Almost…

APHRA (narration):

I maneuvered us around a cluster of lightning bolts, their brilliant flashes of light bouncing off the Ark Angel and casting a sinister glow over the controls of my ship. Trip actually did look like he was plated in the most precious of metals for a second—just like he always wanted.