Star Wars Ep VIII : The New Empire

Chapter 12: Omen

"This is it," Trojor growled as he pulled the large land speeder to a stop.

Poe shaded his eyes against the late afternoon sun as he blinked at the thick line of trees ahead of them. They had been traveling through open grassland all day with little protection from the sun, so Poe had thought that he would be eager to have some shade once they reached the forest; however, the tall, multicolored trees seemed to him foreboding, a seemingly pleasant disguise for what actually lurked within.

"You can't take us any farther?" Maz asked, peering up at Trojor. He leaned a large furry arm over the side of the speeder, considering. Poe watched appallingly as the catlike Trianii shoved a large toothpick between his massive fangs, eyeing the trees ahead with obvious distrust. Trojor spit out the toothpick over the side of the speeder and straightened himself.

"For you, I risk my life. We go farther," he declared, hitting the gas once again, steering them along the path and into the line of trees.

"Thank you, friend," Maz said, smiling and patting Trojor's muscular arm.

"So, what's the big deal about this forest again? Why doesn't anyone go in here?" Poe asked, eyeing the light blue grass and bright orange bushes along the ground.

Trojor glanced behind his shoulder at Poe. "This forest is harmless," he said. "It is who lives here who is not."

"They're that hostile?" Maz asked inquiringly.

"Yes," Trojor grunted, nodding once. "Five friends came into this forest one day. Only one came back out," he said cryptically.

Poe furrowed his brows. "What the hell?" He said under his breath, eyeing the three Organa soldiers who sat next to him. They all shrugged.

"Who lives here, then?" Maz asked.

"No one knows his name," Trojor said, "but everyone calls him the Prince."

"Well, we'll see about this damn 'prince,'" Poe spat. "I'll bet this joker's never met the power of the Order," he said, elbowing the soldier next to him.

"They say he has travelled far and wide," Trojor continued. "That he has great power."

"Do you know, Trojor?" Maz asked, narrowing her eyes. "Do you know of this power he has?"

Trojor paused to think as he focused on the slimming path ahead. "I hear he has the strength of many men. That he can set fire to buildings with just his hands," he said, lashing his clawed paw out in front of him in imitation.

Maz stared directly at Trojor for a few moments, lost in thought. She then lifted her goggles to rub her small eyes.

"Do you really think this guy could have Rey?" Poe asked Maz anxiously.

Maz narrowed her eyes, watching the path ahead. She pressed her hands to her temples, seeming to focus for a few moments before letting out a long breath. "I'm not sure. I do not sense her presence. But if what Trojor says about this 'Prince' is true, I very much hope he does not," she said.

After about twenty minutes of coasting through the forest, Trojor slowed the speeder once again to a stop. "I do not dare go farther," he grumbled. He placed a large paw onto Maz's tiny shoulder. "I wish you luck in finding your friend," he said, but his voice sounded more sympathetic than hopeful.

Poe, Maz, and the three soldiers climbed out of the speeder, and Maz nodded to Trojor, who nodded solemnly back.

"I will wait for you here until late tomorrow morning," Trojor called as they began making their way down the overgrown dirt path. "I will pray for your return."