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The shale was restless beneath the windswept plain.
“Lyra!” Krennic smiled, false and sharp-toothed. “What an unexpected pleasure! I suppose the rocks were kind enough to tell you where we were.”
“They were.” Lyra walked ever closer.
“But, Darling girl, whatever is your plan? Listen to stones while scowling at me? You're outmatched, Pebble.” Krennic guestured lazily at his death troopers, their cackling black lances pointed in her direction. “I wonder if the ground will be sad when you join it.”
“Please,” Lyra whispered. She was not talking to Krennic.
The earth cracked open and swallowed Krennic and his death troopers whole. It sealed closed again, leaving Lyra, the plain, and the man.
Lyra turned slowly, facing the only figure left for miles. Galen Erso, the quiet man with unimaginable power, blinked owlishly over the scar in the earth. “I am fairly certain you couldn’t do that the last time we met.”
“I still can’t.” Lyra prayed she could keep herself together long enough to finish. “But the rocks can, and they like me.”
“They have excellent taste.”
A strike would have hurt less than a reminder of his kindness. She took a breath and continued. “Lend me your power. I need to show you something.”
“I’m storing it all.” Galen looked regretful. “I’ll need every ounce for the cleansing.”
“Galen,” Lyra said, her plea edging toward begging with each word, “if you ever loved—”
Lyra’s words choked off. Galen’s eyes softened, he opened his mouth.
Lyra held up her hand. “No...whether you loved me or not is irrelevant. If you ever trusted me, Galen, I beg you, spare me five minutes of your power.”
The wind died down, earth holding its breath as Galen looked at her, looked at the dirt, then took her hand.
Lifelightenergysafepurebrighthomelove. It was overwhelming and overjoying and would be over far too quickly, if Lyra couldn’t focus.
She placed her hand against Galen’s cheek. “Listen.”
The wandering sand sang songs of travel. The jutting boulders told tales of rain on their faces. Lyra pushed down, through strange earth more animal than mineral, through the bedrock humming vibrations of migration, down, down, to the crystals.
Galen’s crystals, his shield and furnace and sword and safehouse. They were screaming.
Galen’s eyes went wide.
“Do you hear them?” Lyra asked.
Galen’s mouth went slack. “I—I can’t. It’s too much—”
“Listen,” Lyra snarled. Her fingers spread wide across his temple, she forced their agony into his mind. “You did this.”
“No,” Galen whispered. “No, it is a renewal.”
“Krennic lied. Why do you think he worked so hard to rid you of me? He said it was for purification, but the crystals scream the truth. Your power is destroying the world.”
Galen sank to his knees. “What have I done?”
Lyra’s hand shifted, howl falling silent as her fingers traced his cheek. “Nothing that cannot be undone. It is not too late. Fix this. Come home. Meet your daughter.”
“Yes.” Galen said, and hope was born anew.