“So our best bet is entering here,” he said to Poe, filling in the blanks, “only we need a way to get past the troopers?”
“Create a distraction,” Norra offered. “Wedge and I can lead them off while the rest of you get through.”
“No guarantee they follow you,” Snap said, already looking worriedly at his mother.
“We’ll make it worth their while,” Norra said. “We’ll go in the way Yama said. We’ll make a lot of noise, make them think we’re bringing in the prisoners that way.”
“Mom…”
“We only need to split them. If we can get even half of them to follow us—”
“That’s still two against thirty,” Snap countered.
“Snap,” Poe said, voice quiet. “It’s not a bad idea.”
“Then I’ll go,” he said.
“Son.” Wedge hadn’t spoken yet, letting the debate play out. But now he did, picking his words with care. “We can do this, Norra and I. You get the prisoners out of here. Find us a transport big enough for everyone.”
Snap’s face brightened. “Maybe that blockade runner?”
“A man after my own mind. You think you can fly it?”
“Oh yeah.” And then his face fell, as if remembering the plan. “But what about you and Mom?”
“We’ll be okay,” Wedge assured him.
Snap stared at Wedge, emotions cycling over his face as quickly as the weather changed on Akiva. Wedge knew he wanted to protest but he didn’t. He pressed his lips together until they were thinned to white and nodded once before turning away.
Norra sighed, gaze lingering on her son.
“Okay,” Poe said, breaking the tension. “Go. We’ll make our move when we see the troopers split.” He thumped Wedge on the shoulder. “See you on the other side.”
* * *
—
The plan worked almost too well. Wedge was sure that all but a few of the sixty stormtroopers that Snap had spotted guarding the shipyard entrance were now firing at them. They had the slightly higher ground, and from their vantage at the top of a winding ramp, he could see the entire hangar spread out before them. And there, in the far corner, their shuttle.
A laser blast flew past him, too close for comfort, and he ducked back down behind the heavy metal desks he and Norra had piled up to serve as cover.
“How long do you think we can hold?” he asked. His blaster was overheating in his hand, and while he had a backup strapped to his belt, after that one was done, they were done.
“Long as we need to,” Norra said between gritted teeth. She leaned out to take a few more shots.
“And then what?” he asked.
She looked back at him.
He laughed. “Guess this is what I get for wanting to be a hero.”
“Since when have you wanted to be a hero?” she scoffed.
She was right. All he had ever wanted to do was be a pilot. Being a hero was secondary, and other people were better suited for the spotlight. Wedge had only ever wanted to do his best, recognition be damned.
“There!” Norra said.
Wedge peered over the edge of their makeshift shelter to see Snap and the rest of his team leading the prisoners at a run through the hangar. The group broke into two, Nasz and Charth leading the weak and injured to the Imperial shuttle where Karé ushered them inside, and the rest of the team, including Finn, Nifera, and Snap, headed for the big blockade runner. Everyone was accounted for except…
“Where’s Poe?” he asked. “And Suralinda?”
“They can take care of themselves,” Norra said. “Keep shooting. We’re almost out but we’re not there yet.”
Wedge took aim at a stormtrooper who had pressed forward again. He pulled the trigger, but the blaster didn’t respond. It was spent.
He muttered a curse and dropped it, reaching for his backup. But it was too late. Blasterfire, and his arm lit up in pain like it was on fire. He cried out and fell back, instinctively reaching for the place where he took the hit.
“Wedge!” Norra screamed. She crawled over to him, careful to stay low. She looked out only long enough to take down the trooper who had shot him. Then she was at his side.
“Are you okay?”
He shook his head, tears coming unbidden to his eyes. “Hurts like a bastard.”
“I bet.” She probed gently at the burned material and charred flesh. A grimace slipped over her face but was gone just as quickly.
“That bad?”
He didn’t have to ask. He could smell it. See a glimpse of white bone through his shirt.
“And it’s my shooting arm,” he said lightly.
“Well, it’s about time you get ambidextrous, husband,” Norra said, slipping his backup blaster from its holder and slapping it into his good hand. She turned him, careful not to jar his arm, until he was propped up, leaning just slightly over the edge of the desks. He squeezed the trigger, tentative, and then with more confidence. His aim was terrible, but it was better than nothing.
Norra gave him a tight smile and crawled back to her position.
The next time he managed to look out over the hanger floor it was all clear, which meant everyone had made it to their respective ships. As if in confirmation, the cluster of engines in the blockade runner rumbled to life. That got a few troopers’ attention, and they turned to look back. The smaller Imperial shuttle was rising under Karé’s command. A handful of stormtroopers broke off and ran for the shuttle, but they’d never make it before Karé got them off the ground. Even so, Wedge took the opportunity to lay down more fire, but he was already feeling dizzy, his good arm weak.
“Wedge…” Norra’s voice held a warning. “No passing out.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “But Norra, if I can’t stay on my feet, I want you to…” He swallowed. “I want you to—”
“Don’t even say it,” she growled. “We’re in this together. You stay, I stay. We make a run for it together or we don’t go at all.”
“But—”
“Done talking.”
He smiled. “I love you.”
“Good. Now stay alive.”
It was all bravado. There were still two dozen stormtroopers between them and the shuttle. Hopeless.
Wedge thought about the last time he’d been captured by enemy forces. He’d been tortured and his body had never fully recovered. He’d been a younger man then, and he had still barely made it out alive. If he was captured now he had no doubt that the First Order would gleefully torture him to try to find the Resistance’s whereabouts. He also had no doubts about whether he would make it this time. No, this was it, his last stand. He would rather die here with a blaster in his hand and Norra by his side than hope to survive the tender mercies of the First Order. Although…he looked over at Norra. What about her? Would he doom her to death, too? Maybe if he surrendered it would give her a chance to run. He hesitated…
And the wall to his left exploded.
The air filled with falling stone torn free from the interior wall of the building. Dust billowed around them, turning the world gray. Wedge coughed as the thick grime crawled into his lungs. Blinded, struggling to breathe, and his arm useless.
The sound of firing continued, but this was a big gun, not a stormtrooper’s rifle, and Wedge realized, incredulously, that someone was firing from one of the starfighters in the hangar.
“What the?” He dragged himself up in time to see the ship mow down the remaining stormtroopers like grain in the field.
“Poe better cut it out or he’s going to bring this building down on us, too,” Norra said as she came to his side, and while she had a point, all he could do was laugh.
“Do you think you can walk?”
Wedge nodded, and Norra got him to his feet.
“I did not see that coming,
” he admitted.
“Talk about it once we’re on board,” she said as they made their way down the now empty ramp. They hurried across the open hangar, expecting trouble, but the fighter hovered nearby, providing cover.
Snap was there to greet them as they reached the ramp of the blockade runner. His face clouded over as he took in Wedge’s wound.
“My own fault,” he said, jaw tight.
Snap nodded. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Dad.”
Something swelled in Wedge’s chest. His heart, he guessed. Dad.
“I’m great, son. Just great.” And he meant it.
POE LED THE SHUTTLE out of the Corellian atmosphere, Suralinda flying rear guard. He grinned as he banked and broke into space. The First Order ship he’d lifted maneuvered like a dream. Lightweight, flexible. It put the borrowed ship he’d been flying to shame. But he’d still take his X-wing over this beauty any day.
His comm blinked. Not the one on the ship, but his handheld. He answered it.
“Looks like we’ve got pursuit,” Suralinda said, voice bright.
“You sound happy about it,” he said.
She laughed. “Aren’t you? I want to see what this ship can do.”
She had a point. “Our focus is to get the shuttle and that CR90 corvette out of here. Don’t lose sight of the mission, Suralinda.”
“Copy, Black Leader,” she said, voice slightly mocking. “Breaking off to engage.”
He thought about arguing with her, but what was the point? It was Suralinda.
Another call came in. It was from the shuttle.
“Did you see we’ve got company?” Karé asked, voice tight.
“Suralinda’s on it. She’ll draw them off and keep them busy until we can jump to lightspeed.”
“There’s a problem. We got a call from the Falcon.”
Poe tensed. In the heat of their escape from Corellia, he had not forgotten that there was trouble on Ryloth, but there was little he could do to help, so he’d pushed it to the back of his mind. Now his worry came barreling back, and he asked, fear in his voice, “Everything all right?”
“Looks like the First Order found them.”
His stomach dropped.
“Leia’s all right,” Karé added quickly. “Everyone on the Falcon made it. But we lost some, including Charth’s sister and at least one of the Phantom Squadron.”
He swallowed down some of the initial panic he’d felt. Leia was okay. But at least two lives lost, and one of them Charth’s sister. Another likely a friend of Wedge and Norra.
“We can’t go back to Ryloth, Poe,” Karé said. “Where do we jump?”
“Pick a spot,” he said. “As long as it’s far from here and we know the First Order won’t be there.”
“They could be anywhere,” she said. “How will we know?”
They wouldn’t. They were on the run again, just like that. Nowhere safe. Nowhere they couldn’t be found. Except…
“Karé, let me talk to Nifera.”
A pause and then, “Hold on.”
A few seconds passed before Nifera’s voice came through. “Hello, Lorell.”
“It’s Poe. Poe Dameron.”
He could almost hear her smile. “I know.”
“We need somewhere safe to set down for a while. Not long. Just a meeting point to regroup, disseminate the list. A day at most.”
Silence at first, and then, “And you think I can help you?”
“I think the Collective can help us.”
“And why would they do that?”
“Because we just helped their benefactor escape certain death.”
A soft laugh that he definitely heard this time. “Very well, Poe Dameron. I’ll help you. After you make a generous donation to our cause.”
“Yeah, about that…didn’t you already take half our credits?”
“And now I aim to take the other half.”
If he agreed, he was close to bankrupting the Resistance. But if he didn’t, they wouldn’t have a chance to spend those credits because they might all be dead.
“Take the money, lady,” he said, jaw tight.
Another pause, and just when Poe was about to lose his patience again, Nifera was back.
“I’ve given your pilot coordinates to a safe house. She will transmit them to yourself and your other friends. I will let them know to expect us.”
His shoulders loosened in relief. “Thank you.”
“A pleasure doing business,” she said, and then Karé was back.
“Did she give you coordinates?” he asked.
“Yeah. Sending out to Resistance channels now.”
Poe cut the communication once he had the coordinates, too. He circled back around and waited until the shuttle, and then the blockade runner, blurred out, jumping to hyperspace.
He punched up Suralinda. “You ready?”
“Race you there!”
She accelerated and seconds later was gone.
Poe followed.
* * *
—
Poe pushed his way through the crowd, head down and hood drawn close to hide his face. He found the door, the lintel marked with the now familiar winding horned white serpent.
He glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching him, but if they were, he couldn’t spot them. He’d made this trip three times before, each time bringing in prisoners in small groups so they wouldn’t attract as much attention.
He nodded to Finn, who stood watch in a slice of alleyway across the crowded road. Finn returned the nod. All clear.
Poe opened the door marked with the sign of the Collective and ushered in his last group of prisoners. He’d brought the weakest first, those most in need of medical care. This final group was relatively physically functional, if not quite whole in other ways.
Ransolm Casterfo, Leia’s old friend, was the last through the door. Seconds later Finn joined him, and they went through together.
The door opened into a deserted storage room, but Poe already knew this was a deception. He wound his way through the huge boxes piled to the ceiling, catching a glimpse of the Collective, shrouded all in white, who hid on top of the crates, tracking his path, blasters in hand.
Finally they reached a small side door where Zay, the young pilot from Inferno Squadron, was ushering the last of the prisoners through. She smiled when she saw him.
“Is that everyone?” she asked.
“Should be.”
She let him and Finn duck through first. As she pulled the door closed, Poe saw two of the Collective appear to push crates in front of the door, hiding it as if it had never been there.
They entered a larger room, low-ceilinged and dark except for scattered yellow lights set high on the bare walls. Someone had set out long tables with food and drink. Nothing fancy, but the room had the feel of celebration about it. Muted, wary, but hopeful.
Poe and the others paused at the top of a small landing. Just below him, a handful of wide stairs led down into the main room, this one crowded with familiar faces and hushed conversation. He watched as Ransolm paused a few meters in front of him at the edge of the landing to look around, bewildered.
Leia approached Ransolm, a smile on her face as she climbed the steps.
The man seemed to shake, arms still at his sides, until Leia, very gently, as if aware he might break, embraced him.
“I thought you were dead,” Poe heard her whisper.
“But you came for me anyway, my friend.”
“I hoped,” she said simply. They stood there a moment longer, together, before she broke away. She pressed a hand to his arm. “Come meet everyone,” she said, ushering him into the room. Rose was there, and she took his hand, a warm smile of greeting on her face, and led him deeper into the room.
Leia watched them go before turning to Poe.
“General,” he said.
“Commander.”
Poe looked around. He saw that Leia and Rieekan had already turned the space into a sort of war room, a holomap of the galaxy spread out against one wall.
“Did Nifera give you the list?” he asked.
“Already disseminated,” Leia confirmed. “Yendor and Orrimaarko are making assignments now. We’ll find them all. Warn those who are in the First Order’s sights, rescue those in danger, and recruit who we can.”
“Yeah,” he said, absently. A sudden wash of doubt, and Poe felt daunted by the task ahead of them, but Leia’s voice brought him back, grounded him.
“One step at a time,” she said, no doubt sensing his anxiety. “We’re not taking on the entire First Order tomorrow. We can’t. But we can take one step, and that earns us another day to take another step.”
“We can’t do it alone.”
“And we won’t. We’ll find people, we’ll inspire them. Show them they aren’t alone, show them what’s worth fighting for. And we’ll prepare and rebuild. This,” she said, gesturing to take in the room, “is a beginning.”
Poe took in all the faces, all the people who were now the Resistance. Nasz stood by the map, arms crossed, arguing something with Shriv. Yama hovered nearby, never far from the warlord. Black Squadron was spread around the room, all accounted for, as were Wedge and what remained of his hodgepodge Phantom Squadron, and C-3PO and R2-D2 and BB-8.
His heart swelled. He loved this, loved seeing them all together. But Leia was right. It still wasn’t enough. And now, he had to break them up.
He stepped away from Leia, resting a hand briefly on her arm in gratitude as he passed. He planted his feet on the top step, surveying the room.
“We can’t stay here,” he said, projecting his voice over the assembly. Conversations faded as everyone turned to listen, faces wary. He cleared his throat, shaking off any lingering nerves. “If Ryloth showed us anything, it was that nowhere that the Resistance gathers is safe from the First Order.”
Resistance Reborn (Star Wars) Page 29
