Resistance Reborn (Star Wars)

by Rebecca Roanhorse

  He waited until she was done before he spoke. “Of course, I’ll have to add this to your permanent record, and appropriate disciplinary action will no doubt be taken. It’s for your own good, really. You see that, don’t you?”

  The girl said nothing, and he didn’t expect her to. She bent and finished gathering the boxes, this time more steadily having already learned her lesson, and walked to the door. Just as she passed through, Winshur’s other employee, Monti Calay, entered. The two assistants briefly locked eyes, and Winshur thought he saw a flash of something unexpected in Monti’s face. Was that disapproval? No, Monti had never given him trouble, had only admired Winshur. But for a moment he thought he saw something that looked like revulsion.

  Well, that look must have been meant for Yama, not him. Yes, that made much more sense. After all, it was her behavior that was in question, not his. Winshur was blameless.

  MORNING DAWNED HOT AND wet over Myrra, Akiva’s capital city. It had rained steadily through the night, and a thick mist still hung in the morning air. The yellow sun shone weak and waterlogged across the narrow alleys of the city proper and the verdant fields of the more generously landed outer settlements. Puddles gathered ankle-deep in the pockmarked dirt roads and gutters, filled to overflowing, dripping intermittently off the clay-tiled rooftops. Just outside the city among the settlements of family farms, Wedge Antilles dragged himself out of bed, put a pot of caf on to boil, and stepped outside into the relentlessly muggy morning.

  “It’s like sticking your head in a happabore’s mouth,” he observed to no one as he stretched his arms over his head and let loose a huge yawn. Something in his shoulder tweaked, causing a sharp pain in his lower back. He rubbed at the spot, mumbling a mild curse. That pain hadn’t been there before. He must have aggravated something weeding the garden with Norra yesterday. Wedge had been tortured by Imperials years ago and still bore the results. His body just wasn’t what it used to be. Of course, he reminded himself, old age was just as much of a culprit. Not as nefarious as the Empire had been, but even more relentless.

  He stepped off the back porch and made his way across his yard. It was a modest yard, just as the house was a modest house, but it suited him and Norra just fine. Big enough for the two of them and the occasional guest. Two bedrooms, a study, a kitchen, and an outhouse. Out back was a water collection system with a purifier and septic tank and the standard parcel of one hectare to farm. Norra had insisted they plant three varieties of peppers and plenty of the stubby maize native to the region. There were also two rows of purple tubers and a koshar melon vine and, of course, the poultry house Snap had built for them last time he visited. When was that? Wedge had a hard time remembering. Must have been a while now, well before Snap and Karé Kun had gotten married.

  It was early enough in the day that none of Wedge’s near neighbors were out yet, and it felt like he had the whole world to himself, even if that world consisted of a misty water garden. The weather reminded Wedge of the stories Luke had told him about Dagobah. Now, there was a name he hadn’t thought of in a long while, certainly not since Luke had gone off seeking…well, whatever he’d gone off seeking. Luke hadn’t really explained much to Wedge, but then he didn’t owe him an explanation. They had been kids together, really. Endor was a long time ago, and Yavin was even longer. Wedge didn’t have to look at a calendar to know that. He could feel it in his bones. In the ache of his joints in this damn humidity, in the fact that his eyes didn’t work as well as they used to, and now in the throb of pain in his lower back. Norra encouraged him to go to the doctor and have his ailments checked out. “They have medicine for those things, you know,” she had teased him last time he had complained, but he had earned his aches and pains, hadn’t he? He was one of the lucky ones. So many of his friends hadn’t survived the war. They didn’t get to live long enough to complain about the trials of old age. So he brushed Norra’s advice off and lived with the pain another day, a warped badge of honor.

  Wedge filled two bowls with clean water from the purifier next to the house and carefully carried them over to the keedee coop. He set them down on either end of the fenced-in enclosure and filled another bowl with feed. The tiny creatures inside were awake and restless so he let them out to get their exercise. They scampered out on two feet, fluffing their multicolored tail plumage with a lot of chirping and flapping, leaving bursts of bright blue and yellow feathers in their wake. He removed a wide square cloth from his pocket and spread it out. He could see there were almost a dozen eggs waiting for collection in the now empty nests, and he got to work retrieving the pale-green orbs. He remembered a game he used to play with his students at the academy called stack-sticks. They all thought it was a waste of time, but then his students had thought that anything that didn’t get them in the air and flying was boring. Typical pilots. He’d tried to teach them that flying was more than just hotshot maneuvers and force of will. You had to have finesse, too. Judgment. A willingness to take your time and make the correct choices so that when you were in the heat of battle you had learned to keep a cool head, and if your head failed you, then maybe your muscle memory would do the job instead. They didn’t get it at the time, but he hoped they eventually did, and it would serve them well in the future.

  The last of the eggs collected and wrapped safely in fabric, Wedge headed back to the house. He’d leave the keedees out for a couple of hours and come back before lunch to check on them. There weren’t many predators that would bother them this close to town, and especially not on a soggy day like today, but he didn’t like to take too many chances with the birds. They were a bit like part of the family now. He shook his head. When had he become so sentimental, and when had collecting eggs from docile fowl become the most dangerous part of the day? He was glad to be alive, that was for sure, but sometimes he wondered if his friends who had burned out fighting had the right of it. Retirement was no easy mission for an old soldier like himself.

  Movement from above caught his eye, and he looked up through the hazy air. A flash of metal and the familiar roar of engines as two starfighters streaked through the lightening sky. His pulse sped up. For a moment his fingers flexed in shock, loosening around his makeshift egg basket, and he almost dropped his day’s bounty. He braced the basket from underneath and tightened his grip.

  He would recognize those starfighters anywhere. The telltale cruciform, the sound of the engines as the sleek ships broke through the atmosphere. Those were X-wings. Now, what were they doing on Akiva, and—more important—why were they coming back around to land…here?

  “It’s gotta be him,” Wedge muttered as the first ship made its descent. He pressed back against the keedee coop and turned his face away from the sudden gale the ship stirred up. His bathrobe danced about him and the keedees squawked and screamed. At least they had the sense to go inside their coop, Wedge thought, instead of standing out here watching like bug-eyed worrts. But soon enough the starfighter was down and right on its heels, the second one.

  Silence descended suddenly as the engines shut off. Surely his neighbors had noticed that he had some visitors by now, but he looked out over the open field and saw the shutters of the nearest house still tightly closed. Hiding, he thought, but not for long. It was possible his neighbors took the landing in stride, but unlikely. Curiosity would get the best of them after a while, and they’d come asking. Of course, Akiva had been one of the first planets to join the New Republic, so maybe they didn’t mind seeing a couple of X-wings land in Wedge’s yard. On the other hand, a lot of folks were looking for the First Order to come in and clean up the mess that the fall of the New Republic had caused. The irony being that the First Order had caused the mess to begin with, but people didn’t think of it like that. All they saw was that the New Republic had made promises and failed to keep them. And now there was a new boss in town who would make things better. Wedge knew the lie in that, but he tried to keep the peace mostly, so he let it lie. No
rra had gone toe-to-toe with some of their more opinionated neighbors back when they still got invitations to dinner parties and get-togethers, but those had stopped coming since the last time she’d threatened to knock someone out. After that, the neighborly friendliness had dried up. Most of the people around here knew he and Norra had a past with the Rebellion, though none had the will to make trouble for them. But something like the X-wings in his yard? Well, that was rubbing it in their faces, wasn’t it?

  Wedge laughed quietly. They could use a little face-rubbing, he decided. Things were too quiet around here, anyway.

  The closest ship popped open its cockpit with a hiss, and a well-missed face greeted him. Karé Kun waved vigorously and he could see her big smile from here, her blond hair catching the light. She shouted something he couldn’t quite hear as she unbuckled her restraints. Wedge grinned. If Karé Kun was in the first starfighter, then his suspicions were right. It had to be…

  He turned eagerly to the second ship. The cockpit opened and all Wedge could see from this distance was a dark head and a familiar astromech droid. Wedge dropped his egg basket, all but forgotten, and walked as fast as he could to the second X-wing. Before he knew it, he was running and shouting, arms outstretched.

  Snap Wexley jumped lightly from the ship and landed on the green grass of Akiva. He opened his arms and caught Wedge in a hug.

  “Snap!” Wedge said, tears threatening to break. He never cried, but this? This was worth a few tears of joy. “Your mother will be so happy to see you!”

  “I’m glad to see you, too,” Snap said, “but we’re here with some news. Let’s go inside.”

  They broke from the hug. “Yes, come say hi to your mother. I’ll make an omelet. Oh.” He looked back over his shoulder at the place where he’d dropped the eggs. “I’ll make toast, then,” he corrected himself, laughing.

  “As long as you’ve got caf, we’ll be fine.”

  “Of course. Come on in, Snap. Welcome home.”

  The older man led the younger one across the yard, and the blond woman joined them as they made their way to the house. As they reached the back door, the sun broke through the lingering clouds, chasing away the morning gloom. It was going to be a sunny day after all.

  * * *

  —

  “Norra!” Wedge called as soon as they entered the house. “Come see who’s here. Norra?”

  The back door led directly into a small mudroom where Snap and Karé Kun paused. Wedge could see the two of them taking in the domesticity of it all. Garden tools hanging neatly from the walls, fertilizer and poultry feed arranged in marked bins, a bench where one could sit to remove muddy boots and overalls.

  “We’re not soldiers anymore,” Wedge said with a shrug. But what did Snap and Karé expect? He and Norra had come back to Akiva to make a simpler life, to put aside the killing and fighting. It had been a good idea while the New Republic was in charge. But now, with the kids looking and judging, it felt selfish and indulgent, like he was ignoring the larger galaxy out there.

  “I know you’re not,” Snap said with a reassuring nod. “This is all great. It looks like you and Mom are really happy.”

  “We are,” Wedge said, and meant it.

  He led them into the house proper. The room adjacent to the mudroom was the kitchen. It was dominated by a big wooden table surrounded by a low bench and an assortment of mismatched chairs. Back when they were still neighborly, the table could entertain a dozen people at once for meals. Now it was mostly just him and Norra and occasionally Snap’s two elderly aunts. Behind the table was a cooking station with a nice-sized oven and cooktop and a spigot that ran to the water purifier outside. Open shelves of dried goods and the door to a root cellar half full of tubers huddled in the corner. Norra had insisted they build in a cellar despite the unfavorable climate. She had also insisted that there be a tunnel accessible from the cellar that led out to the edge of their property in case they needed a bolt-hole. To Norra’s surprise, Wedge had agreed immediately. Norra had admitted she thought he would balk at the idea and think she was being paranoid. But both of them had been in enough close calls that neither would deny the value of an escape plan. So over a long two months in the dry season last year, they’d dug that tunnel. It would be a dirty unpleasant crawl if they ever had to use it, but knowing it was there seemed to appease Norra.

  Above the door to the cellar were rows of plates, cups, and cooking utensils in a variety of colors and shapes. Wedge had gone on a kitchen improvement binge recently, which mostly consisted of tracking down various merchants in the local markets that sold culinary supplies and buying them out. It made for an eclectic mix, but he liked it. It reminded him of where he grew up on Corellia, or—more accurately—what he had never had while growing up on Corellia. His had been a drab house, functional, pragmatic. He owned some things now purely for the joy of owning them.

  “It’s colorful,” Snap observed, eyes roaming the kitchen.

  “And homey,” Karé Kun added quickly, thumping her husband in the arm. “I love it.”

  “Have a seat,” Wedge said, motioning the pair forward. “The caf should be ready. Norra?” he called into the house again. “Where are you?” She had to have heard him. Never mind him, she had to have heard those X-wings land. Which meant she wasn’t coming out on purpose.

  He caught Snap and Karé Kun exchanging a look.

  “She’s fine, son,” Wedge protested. “She just gets in these moods sometimes. You know how she is.”

  “How could I forget.”

  Karé Kun stepped forward. “Why don’t I pour the caf while you go check on her?” she said, moving toward the low-bubbling pot on the stove.

  Wedge nodded, grateful. “Cups are up there. I’ll just be a minute.”

  He paused as she laid a hand on his arm. “Take your time.”

  * * *

  —

  The hallway was dark and quiet, and Wedge felt a sense of foreboding growing in his chest as he made his way to the back part of the house. “Norra?” he called again as he dipped his head into the bedroom they shared. But it was empty, the bed made neatly, military corners and all. He checked the guest bedroom, just in case, but it was empty, too. Which left only one room—the place that, once he thought about it, he had expected her to be anyway.

  Most of the rooms in their home were so clean and well kept that you could eat off the floor. The study was the only exception. Here chaos was allowed to reign, and reign it did. Shelves were packed to overflowing with various memorabilia from their trips around the galaxy. Here was a case of rare Carruthian brandy packed in next to the framed box where Wedge kept the various medals he had won as a hero of the Rebellion. There was his teaching certificate from the academy tucked in next to a box of Snap’s old toys, which Norra’s sisters had held on to and returned when she and Wedge moved in. They affectionately called it the Remembrance Room, because here they housed all their most precious memories. And there, in the sunlight streaming in through the window, stood Norra.

  She was much as she had always been since he’d known her. Long and slim, silver hair cut short and practical, face a series of angles and sharp planes in profile. She had aged, wrinkles crowding her brown eyes, just as they did his, which only made her more formidable, as if she had acquired wisdom to temper her innate charisma.

  She was looking out the window, likely right at the X-wings, and he couldn’t see her clearly, but he could guess that her face was filled with conflicting emotions. He knew Norra well enough by now to understand that seeing those starfighters would have stirred up feelings and seeing Snap, whom she’d no doubt watched cross the yard with himself and Karé Kun, was never easy for her. Even after all these years, even after her son had forgiven his mother, Norra had never quite forgiven herself for leaving Snap behind as a child while she chased after her now deceased husband who had been arrested by the Empire
as a spy. Which he was. And then, of course, it only got worse, because once she had found her husband, he had been ruined, brainwashed into an Imperial assassin. It was a mess, and one of the worst stories of Imperial cruelty that Wedge had ever heard, and he had heard a lot of them. And somehow Norra blamed herself for all of it. The problem was, she was a superior pilot, better than Wedge in a lot of ways—a fact he had no problem admitting. Good was good, and great was a whole other thing. Norra was great. But she was also…complicated. Haunted. Torn between her own needs and the demands of motherhood, her allegiance to the Rebellion and then the New Republic, and the people she loved. Day to day it was easier to set some of that aside, but with Snap here, and those X-wings? Well, no wonder she was in the Remembrance Room.

  “How is he?” she asked as Wedge stepped inside. “Temmin. Is he okay?”

  “He goes by Snap, Norra. You know that. And he’s fine. More than fine. Karé, too. Why don’t you come out and see for yourself?”

  She had not turned away from the window, so Wedge approached her, wrapping a reassuring arm around her waist. She flinched slightly in surprise, and he tried not to take it personally.

  “I thought…” She stopped and started again. “I thought, Why would they come without letting us know first if it was good news? To just show up and to land right here instead of in a proper port in town, well, it has to be bad news, doesn’t it, Wedge?”

  “Not necessarily,” he said, his voice soothing. “Snap’s never been one to follow rules, especially back here on his home planet. He probably feels like he’s entitled to park wherever he wants.” And landing out here let him avoid snooping authorities and people in town who might not remember Temmin Wexley all that fondly. He had been a small-time criminal before he joined his mom to hunt down Imperials. Nothing too terrible, as Wedge understood it, and it seemed doubtful to Wedge that anyone would remember the troublemaker Temmin had been as a kid, but maybe Snap thought better safe than sorry.