Resistance Reborn (Star Wars)

by Rebecca Roanhorse

  “What is it?”

  “Who cares? It’s delicious.”

  Poe looked closer at the layer of icing. “Are those…sea worms?”

  Finn stuffed what was left of his cake in his mouth. “De-lic-ious.”

  A bell chimed somewhere, marking the hour.

  “Come on,” Poe said. “Let’s find somewhere private and see what Nifera has given us.”

  In the far back corner of the massive room they found a balcony that looked out over Coronet City. Poe handed Finn the comlink Suralinda had given him and motioned for him to stay and keep watch at the balcony door as he himself stepped through into the humid sea air.

  He opened the clamshell packet and poured out the contents. Inside was an imagecaster with a single individual earbud. He slipped the bud into his right ear and pressed the button on the caster. A holo projected itself in front of his eyes. It was an adjudication droid holding a gavel. The droid greeted him as Lorell Shda and displayed the credit account that Connix had created for him. He whistled low in appreciation. That was a lot of money, probably the majority of the credits that the Resistance had. The gravity of the situation hit him all at once, and he swallowed nervously. The holo of the droid prompted him to choose an avatar that would represent him in the anonymous bidding. In keeping with the party’s theme, each avatar was a sea creature of some kind. Randomly, Poe chose a red crotty from the list. The holo in front of him blinked a confirmation that the red crotty was now associated with his account and asked him to please wait. He had no choice but to do as he was told.

  “How’s it going?”

  Poe jumped at Finn’s voice in his free ear.

  “I’m waiting for the auction to begin.”

  “Great! All clear out here.” Finn gave him a thumbs-up.

  The hologram started to change, and Poe turned his attention back to the screen. Something was happening. He watched curiously as the adjudication droid dissolved and in its place a horned serpent appeared. It slithered across his visual, thick and white, its scales shining, until it looped itself into an O shape, head rising above the juncture where the body and the tail met. It turned its horned head toward Poe and opened its mouth. Holographic words seemed to flow from its mouth. Not in Basic, but in a language Poe didn’t know. But he didn’t need to read the words to know what it said: All Knowledge Must Be Free.

  He knew that slogan. It was used by the Collective.

  Poe was surprised. He knew the Collective and had had occasion to deal with the criminal organization in his past. They were mostly encryption breakers, network slicers, and data pirates. Criminals with a cause, but criminals certainly. Of course, the Resistance wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law these days.

  The horned serpent unwound itself and slithered off the screen, replaced by the familiar adjudication droid and Poe’s avatar and the Resistance’s credit account amount. Poe watched as his credits were cut in half.

  “What the hell?” he said, alarmed.

  “Thank you for your generous donation to the Collective,” the droid said. “This donation is nonrefundable. The bidding will begin in approximately three minutes. Please stand by.”

  “They’ve already taken half our credits!”

  Finn poked his head around the corner. “Did you say something?”

  “The auction. They’ve already claimed half our credits as a ‘donation.’ ”

  “Criminals,” Finn said, shaking his head in disgust. “Can’t trust them.”

  “That’s not the point,” he said. “Well, not entirely. The point is that if this auction gets pricey, we won’t be able to compete.”

  Finn grabbed his arm, face intent. “We’ve got to get that list, Poe. That’s why we’re here. The future of the Resistance is that list!”

  “I know, I know.” He scratched at his chin. “I’ll think of something.”

  The droid said, “Bidding to commence in five…four…three…two…” A bell chimed in his ear, and the same document that he had seen back in Yendor’s library appeared on his screen—a list of encrypted names and locations under the heading SUBVERSIVES and another under CURRENTLY DETAINED. This was it.

  “Opening bid at ten thousand credits,” said the droid. “Do I hear twenty?”

  Poe grimaced, but he was determined to win.

  “Twenty,” he said into the mike. “You have twenty.”

  * * *

  —

  After that, the bidding came fast and furious. Poe had a hard time keeping up, especially with Finn asking him how it was going every few seconds. Back and forth, back and forth, and Poe tried to determine just how many parties were bidding, but everything was happening too quickly to keep track. If the bidding kept going at this rate, they simply couldn’t keep up. He covered the device in his ear for a moment, sheltering the mike and causing the holo to flicker off.

  “Fi—I mean, Kade,” he whispered harshly. “Go look around for other bidders. See if you can identify anyone that looks like they’re spending a lot of credits.”

  Finn looked at him quizzically.

  “Just try,” he said, motioning Finn forward with his hands. “Go. Tell me what you see.”

  Finn shook his head doubtfully but stepped back into the main area of the room, leaving Poe alone. Poe lifted his hand and fell back into the thick of the auction. In the few seconds he was away, the price had shot up another hundred thousand credits. He slumped. The exponential jumps were almost too big for him to comprehend. Another few minutes at this rate, and he would have blown through the Resistance’s maximum.

  Finn came back.

  “Anything?”

  He shrugged. “They all look rich to me.”

  “Anyone with an earpiece?” he asked, exasperated.

  “Not that I can tell, Poe. But I saw Suralinda and Charth. They’ll keep an eye out, too.”

  Poe nodded. It was the best they could do. Because he was certain now that he was not going to win this auction. Sure enough, the bidding climbed by exponents again, blowing past the Resistance’s funds. His avatar went dim and the droid said. “You have exceeded your reserve. Please add more funds at this time. If you fail to add more funds, this device will self-destruct in sixty seconds. One, two…”

  Poe ripped the device out of his ear with a muttered, “Dammit!”

  “What is it?” Finn asked over his shoulder.

  “We’re out.”

  “What?”

  “Too rich for us.”

  “What do you mean? Already?”

  Poe nodded grimly.

  “So this whole mission is a bust?” Finn asked, outraged. “A waste of time?”

  “No.” Poe scanned the room. He knew the list had to be here. Suralinda had said that the winners had to be physically present to claim it, as it could only be transferred to a personal device and would not be open to the larger network or be broadcast or transmitted anywhere. So maybe entering this auction at all was going about it the wrong way.

  A shout of alarm drew his attention to the grand entrance. Stormtroopers were pouring in across the bridge and through the front doors. The room that had been crawling with First Order officers earlier now seemed to have a distinct lack of them, as if they had been forewarned to clear out and within minutes had simply disappeared.

  “Something’s up,” he murmured to Finn.

  Bright party conversation faded to the silence of shock. The only sound in the room was the strange underwater music that continued to play from hidden speakers and the continued pounding of stormtrooper boots on the floor as they spread through the party, eerie white figures moving through the artificial deep.

  Behind them came a First Order officer, cold and spectral, stretched skeletal thin in his black uniform.

  “This is an illegal gathering,” he declared loudly. “Under the joint
authority of CorSec and the First Order, all guests will be detained and questioned. If you are innocent you have nothing to fear. However, if you resist, you will be shot.”

  Hasadar Shu stepped forward in his regal robe and belt of shark teeth, putting himself between the soldiers and the party guests. He held out a hand.

  “Stop!” His voice carried over the party. “This is a private residence! What is the meaning of this?”

  The stormtrooper in the lead lifted his rifle and pointed it at the man. He didn’t hesitate. He simply pulled the trigger.

  Hasadar Shu pitched back, neck snapping violently. He went down, a blaster hole in his forehead.

  A loud crash as someone or something outside of Poe’s direct vision knocked one of the towering banquet tables over. He caught the edge of a massive silver tower, full of ice and seafood, thundering as it hit the floor. The deafening boom reverberated through the room, loud and unexpected as a bomb. One of the stormtroopers, no doubt rattled by the noise, fired wildly into the crowd.

  And that’s when the screaming started.

  “WHERE IS EVERYONE?” WEDGE asked as they brought their craft in to dock. Nasz’s codes had worked like a charm, the woman at the other end of the transmission passing them through security with barely a second glace.

  Snap answered first. “As I understand it, Coronet City is under First Order occupation, but the local government’s still technically in charge.”

  “Technically,” Karé said, laughing softly. “We know how that goes.”

  “They’ve repurposed much of the shipbuilding, but CorSec still decides who comes and goes.”

  “Really?” Norra sounded skeptical.

  Her son shrugged. “They didn’t seem interested in us.”

  Snap was right. If they really were holding high-value prisoners here and building secret starfighters, destroyers, and ground attack ships, shouldn’t there be a little more security?

  “Maybe there’s some other priority tonight,” Karé suggested.

  “Or,” Nasz said, “maybe the populace has risen up in rebellion and the Resistance has vanquished the enemy on Corellia without having to lift a finger.”

  Silence, until Snap said, “You don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”

  “I don’t have any friends.” Nasz smiled. “And that’s the way I like it.”

  “Any thoughts about where they all went, Wedge?” Karé asked, bringing them back on topic. “You know this place best. Is it a high holiday or something? Evacuation of some kind?”

  The ship landed smoothly. Snap really had become an exceptional pilot. Not that flying a cargo ship was the height of the art, but to fly an X-wing and a bulky toad like this with equal skill? Well, it showed talent. Patience.

  “No idea,” Wedge said. “I haven’t been home for a very long time.”

  “Well,” said Nasz, standing. “Let’s go see for ourselves.”

  “We’re still going in armed,” Norra said.

  “Of course. We’re not stupid.”

  The exterior door opened and the ramp lowered. Wedge unbuckled his restraints and pushed himself to his feet. He took the blaster Norra handed him and put it in the holster strapped to his waist. Checked over his disguise, which wasn’t much of a disguise at all: brown pants and a jacket over a lighter shade of brown shirt. Something to make him blend in as a worker or a mechanic on his day off. The rest wore similarly nondescript clothes. All except for Nasz, who still wore her animal skin and armor one-shouldered jumpsuit, but at least had thrown a canvas jacket over it to tone it down to the casual viewer and hide the marks on her arm.

  Karé elected to stay with the ship, certain that a quick getaway would be needed, and Nasz insisted on coming, so the four of them—Wedge, Norra, Snap, and Teza Nasz—disembarked and made their way across the massive hangar.

  It was strange that no one was here. Sure, it was late, but this was a big intergalactic city. And Charth had said the First Order was building ships around the clock. Something was definitely going on. They’d made it all the way to the main doors that led into the heart of the building before anyone stopped them.

  “Halt, trespassers!” came a voice from behind them.

  “Easy,” Wedge murmured when he saw Nasz reach for the blaster in her waistband. “We talk our way out first.”

  Her fingers lingered at her holster for a moment before she raised her hands with the others and turned to face their accuser. It was a young man, dressed in First Order black and bearing no insignia to denote his rank. Wedge guessed he couldn’t be more than seventeen. He gave Nasz a look and she shrugged.

  “Hey,” Wedge said brightly. “We’re a little lost.”

  The boy glared. “You shouldn’t be here at all. This is a restricted area.” His eyes narrowed. “Show me your work badges.”

  “Work badges?”

  “You are mechanics, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not,” Nasz said.

  Snap snorted and Wedge sighed loudly. The boy’s eyes darted between the two of them. The understanding that he was in danger seemed to dawn on him, and he took two steps backward, eyes wide. He fumbled for the comlink attached to his belt, but Nasz was on him before he could pull it free. She landed a right hook directly to the cadet’s cheek and he went down immediately, his comlink skittering across the floor.

  “Really?” Wedge said. “You couldn’t just say you were a mechanic?”

  “Oh come on, Grandpa,” she said. “It was taking too long. At least I didn’t shoot him.”

  “You would make a terrible spy,” Snap said, quietly. Wedge wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or Nasz, but he chose to believe the comment was meant for the ex-Imperial.

  Norra shook her head and motioned Snap over. Together they lifted the unconscious young officer by his arms and legs and carried him to a corner. They dumped him there in the shadows and hurried back to Wedge and Nasz.

  “We should have asked him where everyone is,” Snap observed.

  “Yes,” Wedge said drily, “and I would have. If someone wasn’t so quick to solve every problem with their fists.”

  “I said I was sorry,” Nasz said.

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Well, I thought it.”

  “I doubt that, too.”

  “Hey,” Norra cut in. “Are you sure you two aren’t the married couple? Let’s go.”

  They passed into the main building without any other interference. Everyone really was gone. The building looked much like any other building, except that its long hallways were lined with framed blueprints of various ship makes and models. Interspersed between the framed pictures were dozens of award plaques and glass display cases presenting parts of old ships for interested eyes.

  “It’s like a museum,” Snap observed, his voice hushed.

  “Look at this,” Norra said, excitedly. “This is the original blueprint for a Baleen-class heavy freighter. Those things are monsters.”

  Wedge and Snap stopped to look, but Nasz kept walking. “This isn’t a tour,” she threw over her shoulder.

  They made their way down another hallway, this one lined with windows that looked out on the hangar from which they had just come. They were building ships here, all right. And not just massive freighters. Wedge spied a familiar TIE model and a couple more that looked like innovations on the fighters but were entirely unfamiliar. And one that made him sigh in appreciation: a Corellian CR90 corvette.

  “Look at that thing,” he said to no one in particular.

  “An old blockade runner,” Norra answered at his shoulder. “Now wouldn’t one of those be handy.”

  “We’ll see what we can do on the way out,” Snap said.

  “I do wish we had more time here,” he said, voice wistful. “Did I ever tell you that I had an aunt who worked for Corellian Engineering?”

>   Norra smiled. “Maybe we’ll really come back for a vacation sometime when the place isn’t occupied by the First Order.”

  The hallway ended at a lift, and beside it, a screen that when Nasz pressed her hand to it displayed a directory.

  “Where to?” Snap asked.

  “Records,” Nasz said confidently. “If the First Order is anything like the Empire, they’ll be meticulous record keepers.”

  “Can’t we access the records we need from anywhere?” Norra asked.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But I say best to start at the heart of the operation if you can.” She ran a finger down the display until she found what she was looking for. “Not so far. Seven floors up.”

  Norra pressed the button to call the lift and they waited, weapons drawn. The floor numbers ticked down from four, three, two…as the lift descended. Wedge held his breath, expecting trouble. The lift stopped, emitting a soft chime to signal it had reached the hangar level.

  “Get ready,” he said, shifting the grip on his blaster.

  The doors opened. To an empty car.

  He exhaled, relieved. Snap went first, checking the lift, even poking at the mesh roof to confirm no one was hiding above.

  “Clear,” he said.

  The air in the lift felt stale, heavy, nearly claustrophobic as they crowded in.

  “I’d almost rather we encounter some fighting,” Snap said, shaking out his arm. “This lack of engagement is making me nervous.”

  Norra nodded. “It’s like the enemy is hiding, waiting to pounce.”

  “Be glad we haven’t seen trouble, yet,” Nasz said. “Plenty of things could still go wrong.”

  “Absolutely no friends, huh?” Snap’s comment wasn’t a question as much as a statement of fact.

  They’d reached the seventh floor, and Wedge motioned them to silence. He knew it was idle chatter to get rid of some of the adrenaline, but he was trying to focus and for some reason the babble was bothering him today.

  The doors opened and they entered the hallway before them. Wedge signaled for Norra and Nasz to lead. He and Snap took the rear. They moved slowly from cover to cover, checking corners and doors, methodical and careful. They had almost reached the executive records office when they heard noise to their right. Norra motioned them back and they took cover just as a First Order officer exited from what looked to be a bathroom. His hair was disheveled, and he tugged at his uniform as if trying to straighten the crumpled fabric. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy with bags and skin sallow. His expression was haunted, his cheeks hollow, and a red welt was rising on his cheek. He made his way on weak legs to the lift, and they let him pass unmolested.