Resistance Reborn (Star Wars)

by Rebecca Roanhorse

  “No, Wedge,” he said. “The Resistance is not over. I’m here. Karé’s here. Black Squadron is out there right now looking for allies who will join us. As long as General Organa is alive, there is hope.”

  “Even she can’t live forever, Temmin,” Norra said. “And why should she be expected to?”

  “She doesn’t have to.” He turned to his mother. “Poe said as long as even one of us is alive and willing to fight, the Resistance lives on. We won’t give in to tyranny.”

  “And that’s why you’re here,” she said, cutting to the meat of the conversation. “To ask us to come back and fight.”

  Wedge raised his head. “Is that it, Snap?”

  Snap nodded. “You are both heroes, leaders. You could do a lot of good right now.”

  “Or,” Norra said, her voice dry, “we could just go back and die.”

  “Better dead than living under the First Order,” her son countered.

  “You could stay here,” Wedge said, suddenly. “Both of you. It will take years for the First Order to notice Akiva. We have nothing of value, no export or industry they want. We’re so far out on the Outer Rim, they would consider it a waste of time and resources to attack or occupy the planet.”

  Karé scratched at her cheek. “Didn’t you just say your provincial governor was gearing up to hand the capital city over?”

  “It’s all bluster,” Wedge said. “It won’t happen.”

  Snap shook his head, dubious.

  “I thought maybe you were here to tell us you were having children,” Wedge blurted.

  Snap stared for a minute, long enough for Wedge to look away, mildly embarrassed. Was that a strange thing for him to want? Another generation to carry on after him?

  “I won’t raise a child only to have them live under the First Order,” Snap said firmly.

  “It’s never that cut and dried, Temmin,” Norra said.

  “My friends call me Snap,” he said sharply.

  Norra reared back as if struck. Their voices had been growing louder, more heated, and now there was silence. Wedge could hear that the rain had started again outside. Not a sunny day, after all.

  Snap clasped his hands together and took a deep calming breath. “Mom. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, but her voice sounded anything but fine.

  “I think maybe everyone is a little wound up,” Karé said, doing her best to soothe tensions. “Maybe we should all take a break. It’s a lot to take in.”

  That’s an understatement, Wedge thought. But Karé had the right idea.

  “How about I make us some breakfast,” he offered. “We’ve got eggs, those tubers you used to like, all the spices you probably haven’t had since you left, Temmin…Snap. Let us feed you both and then we can talk some more. Brains work better on full stomachs, anyway.”

  “We don’t really have time—” he started before his wife laid a hand on his knee. “Fine,” he said, sighing. “Breakfast, and then we need to leave.”

  “Actually,” Karé said, “my ship could use a few repairs. The weapons system is still not acting right after it got taken out at Grail City. I’ve got my astromech working on it now. I think I’ll go check on him.”

  “And then Karé and I have an errand to run in town later, right, Karé?” Norra said.

  “What errand?” Wedge asked.

  “You know, that thing I told you about.”

  Wedge shook his head no.

  “Well, anyway,” Norra said, brushing his concern aside, “I’ll do that thing I need to do and get a feel for if anyone’s taken an interest in our guests. Oh, and pick up something for dinner, too. We should do something nice, don’t you think?”

  “We don’t have time to stay for dinner,” Snap protested.

  “Let’s play it by ear,” Karé said. “Should we go, Norra?” Before Wedge could protest further, Norra and Karé were up and heading out the door.

  “They’re coming back for breakfast, right?” Wedge asked no one in particular.

  Snap shrugged. “Hard to say. Mom’s up to something but Karé loves to eat. Could go either way.”

  “Norra’s definitely up to something,” Wedge agreed.

  “And there’s nothing you can do to stop it,” Snap said. “She’ll be fine or she won’t, but you won’t be able to stop her.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Wedge said airily. “I’ve lived with her for how many years now?” He said it lightly, but part of him worried. Well, Snap was right that there was no stopping her.

  Snap tapped a knuckle against the table. “So, food?”

  “I left my eggs outside,” Wedge said absently. “Likely broken, but I’ll see what I can salvage.”

  “I’ll get them.” Snap made to stand up.

  “No,” he said hastily. “I’ll do it.” Wedge pulled three big purple tubers from the pantry, dropped them on the table, and handed Snap a knife. Best to keep him in the house, since he didn’t trust him not to disappear, too. “Want to cut these up?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Wedge chuckled. For a moment, Snap sounded just like the kid he had been when he met him. Impulsive, strong-willed, and so sure he was getting the raw end of the deal at all times.

  “It’s like practicing knife skills, right?”

  “Who needs knife skills when you have a blaster?” Snap sounded genuinely baffled.

  “Because…oh, never mind. Just cut the tubers and I’ll get the eggs.”

  “Sure.” Snap pulled the bulbous purple vegetables closer. “You want them cubed or sliced?”

  “Cubed is good.”

  Snap nodded and cut into a vegetable. “Although I was serious about us not really having time for all this. I told Poe that—”

  “Hush, now, Snap. One thing at a time. Surely the First Order won’t destroy what’s left of the Resistance before breakfast. Even war heroes have to eat.”

  * * *

  —

  Norra and Karé did in fact return for breakfast, and, after a quick and surprisingly tense meal, headed back out the door on their mysterious errand. The rain was falling again, but Norra assured them that a little water falling on Akiva never stopped anyone from getting things done. Karé told Wedge that repairs were going as quickly as possible and she thought they’d be done by the time she and Norra returned.

  “They’re doing this on purpose, you know,” Wedge said once he and Snap were left alone in the house.

  “I know,” Snap said, a wry smile barely touching his lips. “Karé always knows how to settle things down.” He sighed and leaned back, resting his big hands across his chest. “I’m the hotheaded one, coming in here and laying all this information on you and not even giving you time to process it. So”—he spread his hands—“she’s giving you time.”

  “Your mother, too. She’s the one that will need convincing.”

  Snap barked a laugh. “Norra? She’s already halfway out the door.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she lives with a foot halfway out the door. I’m surprised you’ve gotten her to settle down for as long as you have. Out here raising keedees and growing crops. I can’t believe she hasn’t run off on some life-threatening half-doomed mission yet.”

  Wedge looked at him incredulously.

  “It’s kind of her thing, Wedge.”

  The older man laughed. “I guess it is.”

  Snap leaned across the table. “But what about you? Will you be okay leaving all this behind?”

  “I thought this was what I wanted,” Wedge said, gesturing at this kitchen, “but seeing you and Karé again, knowing that so few people are left to fight, that so many have died. I can’t stay here and let the Resistance die without doing my part.” He sighed. “I’ll miss my keedees. I was t
hinking of giving them names.”

  “Well, maybe you still can. When you get back.”

  Wedge stared out the window and let that well-meaning lie sit between them. He couldn’t see much from where he was, just a slice of storm-gray sky that seemed to stretch endlessly.

  * * *

  —

  “I want to sleep on it,” Norra said, sitting on the edge of their bed rubbing lanolin into her roughened hands.

  “What?” Wedge asked, surprised. He was wearing the loose pants he liked to sleep in and a worn collarless shirt.

  “I said I don’t know what I want to do yet, and I want to sleep on it.” She finished moisturizing her hands and slipped into bed, pulling the covers up around her. “Karé and I had time to talk today, and she brought up some very good points. I know Temmin is all ready to have us die for the Resistance, which, frankly, is not something I ever expected to hear from my son, but his wife is a bit more levelheaded.”

  “But I thought you already had one foot out the door!”

  She paused in the act of reaching to turn off her bedside lamp. “I had what?”

  “Temmin said—”

  “Oh, what does Temmin know about me? Children always think they’ve got their parents figured out, but it’s not true.” She pushed herself up on one elbow. “I’m happy here, Wedge. With you, with our little piece of land. I know I gave you a hard time about grandchildren and domesticity earlier, but I was only half serious. If we go back to help rebuild the Resistance with Leia Organa, we’re looking at certain death. I think we both know that. So maybe I chafe a bit at Akiva,” she said, shrugging. “That doesn’t mean I want to die.”

  “Are you saying the Resistance is a lost cause?”

  “No, I’m saying I want to sleep on it. And you should, too. We go into this with our eyes wide open if we go at all.” She reached over and turned off the lamp, leaving him standing in only the pale glow of the moon.

  “You’re right.”

  “I know. Now good night, Wedge. We’ll decide in the morning.”

  Wedge stood for a while, watching Norra until he could hear her soft snoring. Then he went to the closet and pulled out his old flight knapsack. He stuffed a change of clothes, a warm jacket, and some basic toiletries in it. He pulled their emergency stash of credits from the top drawer of the dresser, not bothering to count it. The bag seemed a little lighter than he remembered, but maybe Norra had borrowed some and forgotten to mention it. He put the knapsack under the edge of the bed, next to his boots. Norra might need to sleep on it, but he had already made up his mind.

  LEIA CURLED UP ON her makeshift bed and tried to pretend it wasn’t time to get up. But she kept dreaming of sausages and those big fluffy biscuits they had on Hosnian Prime back when she was in the New Republic Senate. She vividly remembered sharing one with Ransolm Casterfo, the young, charismatic senator from the Inner Rim planet Riosa. Ransolm had been her rival and then her co-conspirator and friend and her enemy again when he had revealed that Darth Vader was her birth father to the open Senate, and thus the entire galaxy. The timing and manner of the disclosure was devastating and essentially ended her legitimate political career. But she had been chafing at the reins of respectability anyway, the Senate being so contentious and at odds that it had become a useless partisan body. Nevertheless, Ransolm’s betrayal had stung. Badly.

  In the end he made amends for his betrayal of their friendship and faced his own trials—framed and falsely accused of terrorist activities and the assassination of Leia’s good friend and senator, Tai-Lin Garr. He was arrested and taken for trial to his homeworld, a planet that embraced the death penalty for such crimes. Ransolm’s final fate remained unknown. Leia had tried to start an inquest to clear his name, but her political clout was in ruins and she worried that an association with her did more harm than good. Afraid lending her voice to his cause would only hurry his demise, Leia left it alone, but she never forgot him. In the end, he had been a friend. Just thinking about him made her melancholy. He was a good man who had not deserved his fate, a man who would have been an asset to the Resistance. Someone who could have made a difference. Exactly like the type of people they needed now. And he was quite dashing. She smiled, remembering how he had swooped into her meeting with the notorious crime lord Rinnrivin Di thinking he was saving her when, in fact, Leia had been leading Di into a trap.

  “Rinnrivin Di!” she exclaimed, sitting up.

  Work paused around her. Lieutenant Connix, Rose Tico, and Finn had been talking quietly at a nearby table. They looked up now, concern on their faces.

  “Rinnrivin Di!” she said again, excitedly.

  “Is that a place, ma’am?” Rose asked politely.

  “No.” She good-naturedly waved Rose’s inquiry aside. “It’s a person. Was a person. I first met him when I was in the Senate and we were investigating the existence of a crime syndicate interfering with Ryloth’s shipping lanes. He had an underground operation on Bastatha.”

  Rose leaned forward, interested. Leia had noticed that the young woman had a hunger for war stories, or any stories, really, about the Resistance. She’s invested, Leia observed silently, and looking for connection. They were good qualities, and she made a note to herself to encourage Rose’s interest. Rose was still impulsive, as her unauthorized mission to Canto Bight evidenced, but she was competent and genuine and, most important, she cared. She’s someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, Leia thought. Young, emotionally vulnerable, but infinitely likable. And she reminds me a bit of Luke.

  Leia knew Lieutenant Connix well, although she was disappointed that she had supported Poe’s actions on the Raddus. She should have known better, but Poe was convincing, and Leia understood Connix had meant well. She was an asset to their cause, and Leia was glad she was here, but she needed to make amends for her role in Poe’s mutiny.

  She didn’t have as solid a reading on Finn, but Poe vouched for him and that mattered. She knew Finn was brave, and it was a bravery hard-won. He was one of the First Order’s orphans, a participant in a horrific program meant to instill ultimate obedience into child soldiers. Finn had somehow retained his humanity despite the conditioning, and once he had seen the opportunity, he had fled the First Order. Along the way he had become part of the Resistance, but Leia wasn’t sure where his heart lay. She guessed somewhere with his friends Poe, Rey, and Rose. And why not? If they weren’t fighting for their friends, what were they fighting for?

  “And is Rinnrivin Di here now?” Finn asked, dragging her back from her reverie, and obviously confused.

  Leia laughed. She motioned Rose over. “Help me up,” she said, sliding her legs off the bed and letting her feet touch the ground. She had fallen into bed fully clothed, exhausted after spending all night at the communications deck, and hadn’t bothered to even take off her shoes. Now she was glad she didn’t have to waste the time getting dressed.

  Rose hurried over dutifully and helped Leia to her feet.

  “Rinnrivin Di is dead,” she said by way of explanation. “Which is a very good thing, because he was a very bad man. When I was in the Galactic Senate on Hosnian Prime, the Ryloth ambassador petitioned the Senate for help investigating Di. He was sure that Di’s criminal operation was interfering with Ryloth’s shipping lanes, possibly funneling funds into a terrorist organization.”

  “Was he?” Rose asked, sounding awed.

  Leia blinked. “Yes.” It occurred to Leia that the places she had been, the people she knew, must seem fantastical to Rose. She made a mental note to tell Rose about the memoirs she had recently recorded. They might be of interest, and besides, it would do no one any good for the young not to know the galaxy’s history. That, no doubt, would doom them to repeat it.

  “So if Rinnrivin is dead,” Finn said, “why do we have to worry about him now?”

  “Worry about him? Who’s worried about him?”

/>   “You are,” Rose said, giving Leia a grin that bordered on the patronizing smile you gave your senile grandmother when you didn’t want to offend her.

  Leia huffed in irritation. “No. I don’t care a thing about Rinnrivin Di. I was thinking of pastries and it reminded me of an old friend who then reminded me of Di.”

  “Ah,” Rose said. “Got it.”

  “I don’t think you do have it,” Leia said. “Or else you’d be showing a bit more enthusiasm. Because I think I know where we can find help.”

  Rose, Connix, and Finn exchanged looks and then turned back to her, expectantly.

  “Keep up, please,” Leia said. “We’re going to Ryloth.”

  “Of course,” Finn said. “Makes perfect sense.” But the look on his face said Leia was in fact not making sense.

  “So is there an old rebel stronghold on Ryloth that we can revive, like on Crait?” Connix asked, excitedly, following along much better than the other two.

  “Not an old stronghold,” Leia corrected her, “but there is an old rebel, a friend. And he owes me a favor.”

  * * *

  —

  Leia hurried to the cockpit where she found Rey, Chewie, and Nien Nunb. They were arguing, voices low and urgent. Rey looked up when Leia came through the door.

  “Did we wake you?” she asked, concerned. “We were trying to be quiet.”

  “I’d slept long enough. What’s going on? Is there a problem?”

  “We’re low on fuel,” Rey said. She was strapped into the pilot’s seat. It’s where the girl belongs, Leia thought. Han would have approved.

  “We need to refuel but we’ve only got enough for one jump. If we choose wrong, we’re grounded.”

  Leia frowned. “That bad?”

  Rey nodded. “Nien Nunb thinks Tovash Tchii would be safe, and it’s within range, but Chewie says he knows an old smuggler’s way station where he and Han used to lay low sometimes. It’s farther out, but he says we should try there.”