#book bl

He spat a curse, spun about, and fired at a stormtrooper over the head of a rebel half crawling through the underbrush. If he yelled for the blind man now, a dozen guns would be aimed his way. But if he’d lost Chirrut…

The smoke was everywhere. Trees burned as their trunks absorbed bolt after bolt. Baze stalked back the way he had come, concentrating his focus, narrowing his cone of vision as if sheer intensity would allow him to penetrate the haze.

“Baze! Baze!”

He heard Chirrut before he saw him. The blind man’s robes were marred with soot and soil and his expression was wild with alarm, but he appeared uninjured. Baze felt a rush of fury and an equal rush of relief.

“What?” he snapped. “What is it?”

“Run,” Chirrut said. “Run!”

With those words, as Chirrut grasped Baze by the arm and pulled him toward the shoreline, Baze’s senses expanded again.

—Rogue One: A Star Wars Story novelization by Alexander Freed