Resistance Reborn (Star Wars)

by Rebecca Roanhorse

  “Our mysterious escort,” she said, acknowledging the woman with a nod.

  “Hahnee Brethen,” the woman introduced herself. “Pilot for the Ryloth Defense Authority.”

  “Ah.” And there was Leia’s answer. “You’ll pardon my ignorance, but I’m not familiar with the defense authority.”

  “And why would you be unless you’ve recently spent time on our planet?” the male Twi’lek asked, stepping forward and giving Leia a small bow. “Charth Brethen. Ambassador of the Ryloth Defense Authority.”

  “Oh dear,” Threepio said from somewhere behind Leia’s shoulder. “I’m scanning my data banks and I find no record of the Ryloth Defense Authority.”

  The woman looked slightly startled but the man, Charth, responded easily. “That’s because we aren’t officially part of any record you would have access to, droid. If we were, we wouldn’t be doing a very good job of staying off the scope.”

  “And whose scope do you wish to stay off?” Leia asked pointedly.

  Hahnee barked a laugh. “Who do you think?”

  “You’ll have to excuse my sister,” Charth said, cutting in smoothly. “We’re a bit on edge after what happened to the Hosnian system, and not everyone thought it was a wise decision to allow you to land here.”

  “I understand,” Leia said.

  “I don’t know that you do,” Charth said. “We’re taking a risk, having you here. Should the First Order find out that we’ve given you aid, we become targets ourselves. You could drag us into war…or worse.”

  Leia nodded. Despite Charth’s accusation, she was all too aware of the danger that trailed the Resistance. “We are grateful,” she said simply.

  His eyes locked on hers, considering. Leia held his gaze until, finally, he broke it, with a small shrug. “It wasn’t our call,” he admitted, gesturing to encompass himself and his sister. “It was his. So an exception was made.”

  His. Leia smiled. She had gambled correctly. “I’d like to see him now, if I could. We don’t have much time.”

  Charth nodded. “Then by all means, let us not keep him waiting any longer.”

  * * *

  —

  Despite Charth’s assurances of expediency, Leia found herself waiting while he offered them all a chance to eat and refresh themselves first. Leia remembered that the Twi’leks took hospitality seriously and was loath to decline, but time felt precious. She had spent enough of it already without any measurable progress. Soon enough Black Squadron would be heading back and she needed a place for them to call home, at least temporarily. She already knew she was going to have to talk fast to convince the RDA that this mysterious place in the desert was it.

  A door on the right side of the cave slid open and two Twi’leks, purple-skinned like Charth and no more than school-aged, rolled out a cart laden with platters of food and pitchers of fresh water.

  “For those of you who are staying,” Charth explained. “I know you don’t want to go far from your ship, so we will bring Ryloth hospitality to you.”

  They all watched as the two set up a table and chairs right in front of the Falcon’s landing ramp. One of the youths caught Leia’s eye, a familiar look of awe on her face. She quickly looked away when Leia noticed. Leia heard the girl whisper “princess” to her companion who stole a glance, too, before Charth pointedly cleared his throat. The two quieted immediately, focusing on their work.

  “You’re a bit of a legend,” Charth said, leaning slightly toward Leia. His tone was wry but not without its own touch of awe. “You’ll have to excuse their curiosity.”

  “Are they relatives?” Leia asked, her keen gaze picking out similarities in the facial features between the ambassador and the two children.

  Charth blinked, surprised. His lekku twitched and he hesitated a moment before saying, “Yes. These are my offspring.”

  And you are having them serve us, Leia thought. She recognized it for what it was—a gesture of trust.

  “You must be very proud,” Leia said earnestly, hoping he saw that she understood what he was doing. Charth watched his children for a moment, face expressionless.

  “Yes,” he finally said, giving Leia the briefest of acknowledgments. “I am.”

  The two children were done with their setup and Charth clapped his palms together briskly. “Please, help yourselves.”

  The crew of the Millennium Falcon did not hesitate.

  “Sure beats rations,” Finn muttered as he stuffed a leaf-wrapped tube of dried fruit in his mouth.

  “Don’t forget to chew,” Rose scolded him lightly.

  He ducked his head, chastised, and slid into a waiting seat. Rose gave him a smile. “We represent the Resistance now,” she told him. “We have to act like it.”

  Chewbacca roared in agreement and then dipped his big hairy paw into the vat of clear noodles in the center of the table. They all laughed, including Chewie, and for a brief moment some of the tension faded over the prospects of a meal shared with friends and potential allies. After the laughter faded and most of the crew had committed to eating, Leia pulled Chewbacca aside.

  “I want you and the others to stay with the ship,” she said. “Keep an eye on things. Connix can handle any communications that come in, and Finn and Rose can stand guard.”

  Chewie growled in concern.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll take Rey and Threepio.”

  Chewie protested, a low sound in his throat.

  “If they wanted us dead, we’d be dead,” Leia countered. “But just in case…” She turned her palm over, revealing a comm. “If there’s a problem, try to reach me. If you can’t, then follow my signal.”

  Chewie gave an affirmative growl.

  Leia turned back to her hosts. “Shall we?” she asked.

  Rey fell into step beside her as Charth and Hahnee led them away. Rey had readily agreed to accompany Leia, but she had insisted on bringing her staff and a blaster. To Leia’s mild surprise, their escorts didn’t object. C-3PO trailed them, happily commenting on Leia’s wise decision to bring him along since, as a protocol droid, he was most qualified to assist her.

  They crossed the length of the cave that remained relatively bright and airy. The rock ceiling stretched so far above their heads that Leia didn’t feel claustrophobic in the enclosed space as she thought she might. She watched Rey to see if the girl minded, but she seemed calm and observant, in her element. Leia was pleased to see it. C-3PO, however, insisted on rattling off half the known history of Ryloth as they made their way deeper into the caverns, which appeared to annoy Hahnee and amuse Charth. Leia found it mildly educational and appreciated C-3PO’s efforts.

  The droid said, “Did you know that early in the Clone Wars, your ancestor Anakin Skywalker helped fight for Ryloth against the droid armies? The Ryloth forces were led by Cham Syndulla, a terrorist—”

  “Freedom fighter,” Hahnee growled, getting in C-3PO’s face.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “He’s a hero here, Threepio,” Leia corrected him. “While Imperial records may have labeled him a terrorist, here among his own people he’s considered a freedom fighter.”

  “Oh, of course. I meant no offense. My historical records are often, well, historical. I will make the notation immediately.”

  “Great,” Leia said brightly. “Continue.” They’d entered another passage, this one seemingly lit from within.

  The droid continued. “Freedom fighter Cham Syndulla. In addition, his daughter Hera Syndulla served as a general in the Rebellion and New Republic. Her contribution to the record is quite remarkable. Now, I may be incorrect, but from my historical records I can extrapolate that the Ryloth Defense Authority is a direct descendant of Cham Syndulla’s Free Ryloth movement.”

  “Not a direct descendant,” Charth corrected him amicably. “But certainly a philosophical one. After
our history of oppression and slavery, certain factions have vowed to never have it happen again. There are those of us who have dedicated our lives to the continued liberty of our world, for ourselves and our children. Against any comers, First Order or otherwise.” He gave Leia a pointed look, his black eyes bright in the shadowy cave light.

  “So you are part of the government,” Leia said.

  “We operate with the full knowledge and support of the Rylothian government, yes,” Charth assured her. “But we are also somewhat…autonomous.”

  “A secret police force?” she asked.

  “A supplemental militia,” Charth corrected. “Recent events have made it clear that Ryloth needs a backup system, shall we say, should something incapacitate the capital. We are that backup system. We operate independently but with their full blessing.”

  “Not for this,” Hahnee reminded them.

  Leia pursed her lips, thinking. The last thing she wanted was for the RDA to see them as a threat to Ryloth’s freedom. “It is what drives the Resistance as well,” she said, picking her words carefully. “It is what we have in common.”

  “We heard the Resistance is all dead,” Hahnee spit bluntly.

  “Bloodied in the fight,” Leia admitted freely. “Hurting, but not all dead.”

  “That is good,” Charth said. “We admire this fighting spirit. Better dead than a boot on one’s neck.” He paused. “And we are here.”

  They had reached a wide, round stone door. The door was a deep garnet-colored stone. Burned into the door was the same symbol Charth wore on his chest, the symbol Leia had come to think of as “chainbreaker.” Charth pressed his hand against the door until it lit from within, bathing them briefly in a blood-red light, and then he pressed the door open. Hahnee went through first, stepping over the low threshold and ducking slightly to pass underneath the lintel. Charth gestured Leia in next, and she followed, Rey on her heels. He came through last, pulling the door shut behind him.

  At first glance, Leia thought they had entered a throne room. The space stretched before them over a hundred meters, stone under their feet, the same garnet as the door behind them. The walls were equally distant, a pale-pink stone heavily veined with silver and white, and Leia could see they were lined with…were those books? Scrolls, maps, bound books, and various forms of what looked like paper records filled shelves that looked like they had been carved out of the stone walls. Directly in front of Leia, the cave opened onto a massive balcony that overlooked the entire desert valley. She could see the hint of a sunset blossoming outside past the energy shield that held the blowing sand out and kept the chill in. In fact, this room was noticeably colder than the rest of the cave system had been, enough that she shivered and rubbed her hands along her arms. And there, between her and the balcony, where she expected a throne to be, sat a desk. Regal in its own way, its size three times that of a normal table and carved from a single piece of what looked like petrified wood. It was also practical, piled with holocards and a communications transmission module. And sitting behind it, the man she had come to Ryloth to see.

  He stood now to approach them. He wore a heavy robe, black with blue and silver embroidery, draped over his broad shoulders. His face was lost in the hood, but as he came closer, he lifted blue-skinned hands and pushed the hood from his face. It was a Twi’lek face, more handsome than Leia had remembered him. Age had been kind to him, had chiseled away some of his previous boyish appearance and left him looking distinguished. His lekku were patterned in a molten swirl of sky and ocean, and he wore them tied back with a sort of golden headpiece that reminded Leia a bit of a crown. But the man she had always known had no interest in power, and certainly this room he surrounded himself with didn’t speak to power as much as it spoke to a reverence of knowledge, despite its grandiosity.

  “Have you become a scholar in your old age?” she asked by way of greeting.

  “I have dedicated what is left of my life to preserving my people’s history,” the man admitted. “I don’t know if that makes me a scholar, a collector, or a fool.”

  “A bit of all three?” she ventured.

  He laughed, which was the response she was hoping for. So he wasn’t so much changed, despite appearances. They met in the middle of the room and he paused, deferentially, as if waiting. She took the initiative and leaned in to embrace him briefly. He returned the welcome.

  “Princess Leia,” he said, his voice resonating with respect.

  “It’s general now,” she joked, warmly.

  “Princess, senator, general. Is there nothing you cannot do?” he observed.

  “It doesn’t look like you’re doing too poorly yourself.”

  “This isn’t mine,” he said. “This was once the Ryloth Historical Society’s library. When they decided to found the RDA, they wanted us out of the capital, far enough away from Lessu that if it was lost, there would be a place to regroup. This”—he gestured to take in the room, the cave, the entire facility—“was available.”

  “They moved you out of the city and into the desert.”

  “And I let them,” he acknowledged, voice wry.

  “Ah,” she said, archly, “there’s where the ‘fool’ comes in.”

  He grinned, obviously charmed. “Indeed.”

  She took in his rich robe, the coronet that held back his lekku, and then let her gaze travel around the room. “And what should I call you these days? Certainly not fool. So scholar, historian, librarian?” She paused. “General?”

  “No, Your Highness. You call me what you’ve always called me. My name.”

  She smiled, fully confident that she could still call this man a friend. A friend that she was about to ask to risk his life, his home, and his very people. But she had no choice.

  “Hello, Yendor,” she said.

  He acknowledged her with a solemn nod. The previous lightness of their banter had all but evaporated, replaced with the tension of expectation and need.

  “You need my help.”

  “Desperately.”

  He gestured toward the terrace behind him.

  “Come. Let’s talk.”

  * * *

  —

  They took their tea on the vast balcony overlooking the red mesas of Ryloth. Yendor himself served them before taking a seat at the table with Leia, Rey, and Charth. Hahnee preferred to slink around the perimeter, in constant contact with someone on the other end of her comm.

  The tea was served in a clear vessel within which Leia could see a bouquet of dried purple-and-black flower heads unfolding under the influence of the heated water. They blossomed anew, releasing a rich fragrance into the desert night. The tea was accompanied by a plate of the same leaf-wrapped dried fruits Leia had seen Finn eat before they left the crew back at the Millennium Falcon. She took one out of civility and set it on her fired-clay plate. She hadn’t eaten all day, but the very idea of food made her stomach roil. She wouldn’t relax until she had secured some kind of assurances of Yendor’s aid. The way their conversation was going, however, she wasn’t sure if that was going to happen.

  “Ryloth doesn’t get involved,” Yendor was saying, his long fingers steepled under his chin.

  “I’m not asking you to get involved,” Leia said. She reached over and took the liberty of pouring herself more tea. “I’m asking you to let me and my friends impose on your hospitality for a while.”

  “You and your friends?” Yendor repeated, incredulously. “Is that what we’re calling the Resistance these days?”

  C-3PO, who had been hovering a few meters away, turned to the conversation. “Technically, General Organa is correct—”

  Leia held up a hand, and C-3PO stopped talking.

  “Yendor, you were a rebel once. And the Ryloth Defense Authority? What is that if not a tool to fight the First Order? We’re on the same side.”

  �
�I still am a rebel in here,” Yendor said, tapping a fist to his chest. “But it’s not just me. I have to think of my people, too.” His eyes cut to Charth.

  Charth sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Not just the RDA, but all of Ryloth. Our neutrality has been hard-won, and we will not fall under the influence of any foreign government.” He glanced at Leia. “Even yours.”

  Leia shook her head, amused. “What government? We’re barely a ship. If you think we’re in any shape to be a threat to your independence…”

  “I did hear the rumors,” Yendor said, thoughtfully. “Reports of a destroyed fleet, rumors of Luke Skywalker seen again and then gone…is it true?”

  “It’s true,” Leia said, and the admission only hurt a little.

  “Ahh…” Yendor shifted in his seat. He reached over and poured himself more tea, even though his cup was barely touched, eyes focused down. “And how was Luke? Will he be joining…is he part of this?”

  “Luke is gone,” Leia said quietly, and that one hurt a lot, after all.

  Yendor glanced up. “You mean…?”

  “Yes.”

  The Twi’lek leaned back in his chair. “So there are no more Jedi.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Leia said. She gave Rey a reassuring smile, but the young woman only looked at her like a frightened skittermouse. Yendor watched the exchange curiously.

  “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name,” he said to Rey.

  “I’m Rey,” she said quickly. “I’m just a junker from Jakku.”

  “I doubt that if you’re with Princess Leia.”

  “Or I was. Now I’m…a pilot.”

  Yendor gestured expansively. “A pilot is someone,” he said, and gave Leia a conspiratorial wink. “I was once a pilot, and a damn good one, until they made me wear these robes and take meetings. What kind of ship do you fly?”

  “All of them?” Rey winced. “I mean, any of them. Right now…the Millennium Falcon.”