Galaxy's Edge

by Delilah S. Dawson

  “Where’d you learn to carve?”

  He seemed confused by the question at first. “What? Oh. On Jakku. I carved umbo nuts to sell as beads. There’s no shortage of wood here. I just…” He sighed. “I have to do something. Feel like I’m contributing.”

  Vi stopped, turned, and put her hands on his shoulders, looking directly into his eyes to drive her point home. “Your worth is not measured by what you produce. You understand that, right? Leia sent you here to support me and the eventual recruitment facility, and you can’t do that until there’s a facility. You’re doing exactly what I need you to do, right now. I’m not asking for anything more. I’m glad you’re here.”

  His deep hazel eyes seemed to soften and melt, and his eyelashes swept down and his lips parted as he leaned in, and—

  Vi released his shoulders and stepped back.

  “Archex, what are you doing?”

  He swallowed hard, eyes darting everywhere but at her in his confusion and embarrassment. “Oh, I…I mean, I thought that…”

  “Were you trying to kiss me?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut like a child trying to hide. “No. Yes. Maybe?”

  Vi tried not to laugh. Dr. Kalonia had told her this might happen as whatever feelings the First Order had suppressed in him naturally arose over time. His confusion was only natural.

  “Then I’ll go ahead and let you in on a little secret: I’m not into it.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah, why would you be? After what I did to you. I can’t believe I even tried to…It just felt like—I’m so sorry—”

  She interrupted him before he could dig himself into a hole. “Look. We work together. We’re partners. I care about you, but not like that.”

  She’d never cared for anyone like that, men or women, never had such urges, but he didn’t need to know that now. She shrugged almost comically, put her hands in her pockets, and started walking again as if nothing awkward had happened. After a moment, Archex joined her.

  “But when you touched me and looked into my eyes, I felt—”

  “A connection.”

  “Yeah.” The poor guy sounded so confused, and Vi felt bad that she was the only person around to explain it to him.

  “People have those all the time. They have relationships. We’re wired for touch. It’s not always about kissing. Sometimes it is. This time it wasn’t. But if you hit on anybody in town, I won’t take it personally. I’ll even be your wingmate.” She tossed him a grin. “Look, just know that I’m your friend, and I’m here for you. Not romantically or physically, but for pretty much anything else. You can count on me. Okay?”

  Archex sighed heavily. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry. Thanks.”

  Now Vi couldn’t help chuckling. “Well, at least we’ve reached peak awkwardness now, right? So everything should be smooth from here on out.”

  “I’ll tell you after I’ve seen town.”

  They’d reached the archway by then, and Vi enjoyed introducing Archex to Black Spire Outpost. Already it felt familiar and friendly, and their earlier miscommunication was soon forgotten. Archex was truly enthusiastic about the food at Tuggs’ Grub and had a spirited conversation with Cookie himself about spices, which he later hunted down in the market to use on the wild game he hoped to serve up back at camp. He sold his carvings to Zabaka at the toy shop for almost nothing but was bursting with pride at earning his own money for the first time—especially since the busy Toydarian told him she’d buy anything else he carved of similar quality. He haggled with an old woman for a heavy cooking pot, and she tossed in a carved spoon for free. For a while there, he seemed almost happy.

  When they stopped in at the cantina, she bought him a Jedi Mind Trick and watched with increasing amusement as he got tipsy and tried to sweet-talk the waitress. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was a waitress’s job to be nice to the drunk guy making a fool of himself at the bar, but she did slip the server a few credits for her trouble. As for Vi, she only drank a spicy Blurggfire, all too aware that if she wanted to live long enough to find and deliver the artifact to Oga tomorrow she’d need to be at her best.

  “I like this place,” Archex said, slurring a little as they walked back toward their camp, the moons glowing above and bathing the forest in silken blue light. “Th’outpost. Things don’t hurt as much here.”

  “That’s the alcohol,” Vi reminded him. “It numbs the pain.”

  He shook his head. “No. I think it’s the freedom.”

  Vi didn’t argue. For a former First Order trooper and true believer, it was a major epiphany. Let him think what he wanted. It was good to see him healing—and to see his beliefs organically aligning with the Resistance.

  Whether he knew it or not, Captain Cardinal was truly becoming Archex.

  He was becoming…himself.

  LIEUTENANT WULFGAR KATH WAS OFF DUTY and in the gym when his comlink chimed. He finished his set before acknowledging it.

  “Kath.”

  The answering voice was clipped, curt, and in no way friendly. “This is General Hux. We have received a tip that there may be a Resistance spy at Black Spire Outpost on the planet Batuu. The Penumbra is currently the closest First Order ship to that sector. You are therefore commanded to take a squad of twenty troopers, find the spy, and bring her directly to the Finalizer.”

  Kath stroked his beard contemplatively. “You said her. Is this a known combatant?”

  “We suspect it is Starling.”

  Kath carefully hid his sudden interest. “The one who turned and kidnapped Cardinal.”

  He could almost hear Hux’s sneer across the light-years. “Do not say that traitor’s name to me again.”

  “Yes, sir. Is there anything else, sir?”

  Hux exhaled, a measured hmm. “If the Resistance has business on Batuu, we need to know what it is. Any planet that gives aid to our enemies must be punished. Find the spy and learn what you can of Batuu’s strategic importance. You are to leave immediately. Hux out.”

  The comlink went silent, and Kath reached for his towel. He cleaned off the bench press with the same measured patience and exactitude he applied to everything. It was an odd hour, and he had the officers’ gym to himself, so he took his time as he considered this new assignment.

  He hadn’t been off-ship in years, not since he’d worn the number CD-0828 and gone on the requisite training missions alongside his old friend CD-0922. Captain Cardinal. They’d parted as young men but had met here and there over the years, always with a fond pat on the shoulder or a stiff nod, depending on who else was around. When he’d heard the news—that Cardinal was either kidnapped, dead, or defected—he hadn’t believed it. But when the footage from Cardinal’s personal droid had revealed an interrogation gone wrong and a man who’d been broken—who’d allowed himself to soften and weaken and break—then Kath had had no choice but to believe.

  He hated nothing so much as a traitor, except maybe a coward. To him, Cardinal was both. It would be a pleasure to hunt and hurt the spy who had first sown doubt in his mind.

  Although he knew Hux wanted results, and fast, Kath also knew that Hux was a man who understood appearances and the importance of doing things correctly. As he sat in the sauna, he considered the soldiers on the Penumbra who could be spared and who would do well on a rough planet on the edge of the galaxy, who wouldn’t be wooed by the cantina or grow tenderhearted toward the local population. After Cardinal’s fall, Hux had subtly tweaked the nightly programming to heighten a sense of duty and loyalty, and although he was not the commander of this vessel, the soldiers here knew that Kath would settle for nothing less than perfection. The Penumbra’s troopers, and Kath’s chosen troopers, would never fail him.

  After his shower, he packed a case and dressed in his officer’s blacks. He was a thickset, muscular man, almost two meters tall with a barrel chest and pale skin spatte
red with freckles. He combed back his thick auburn hair, trimmed and oiled his bushy but meticulously maintained beard, and made certain his hat sat perfectly. Then he made his calls, ordering his chosen soldiers to meet him in the hangar at the beginning of the next shift. Ten men, ten women, all of them solid and experienced with no marks for misbehavior or cowardice. He put in the proper datawork for their transport, their weaponry, their rations, their codes. Every detail, flawlessly arranged.

  Being chosen to lead this mission was a great opportunity for any officer hoping to work his way up the ranks. Thanks to a personal indiscretion in his past, Kath had lost some clout and was anxious to regain his footing. He had no doubts that he would succeed. Not only because Hux had given him clear orders, but also because he was a hunter who relished the thrill of the chase. He wanted revenge on Starling for what she’d done. And if it turned out that Cardinal had defected to the Resistance, Kath would take great joy in torturing the man slowly as proper punishment for turning his back on the First Order.

  But there was a dark side to this assignment as well. Kath knew the destiny that awaited First Order officers who failed, and the executioner’s vibro-ax was just as threatening as Vader’s Force choke had once been among the officers of the Empire. Worse yet, if the assignment had caught the attention of the Supreme Leader…

  Well.

  Either he came back with the spy, or he didn’t come back.

  * * *

  —

  They landed on Batuu in the morning and eschewed the spaceport for a quiet clearing in the ancient forest. According to Kath’s research, the First Order had never before shown interest in this backwater planet, so they had no way of knowing how the locals would react to their presence. On some of the more primitive worlds, the townspeople threw rocks at the troopers as if they were demons, and Kath wasn’t in the mood to gun down half the outpost if they could be won over to his side. His squad would march into town with adequate pomp and weapons in hand, but the locals didn’t need to know where they were based. Their massive transport, an MHU-6e Mobile Habitation Unit designed for temporary planetary occupation, was equipped with the necessary bunks, mess, armory, medbay, and supplies, so they should require very little from the outpost itself.

  The moment the MHU touched down, Kath informed his soldiers of their assigned jobs, sending troopers to scout the area, scan for resources, and maintain watch over the clearing. What he’d seen so far suggested the planet was a useless relic taken over by vegetation, the sort of place too shriveled up and poor to be of much benefit to the First Order. No industries, no mines, no prison systems, no orphanages, no shipyards, nothing they actually needed. Just a crusty old junkyard full of refuse and a town cobbled together of slightly nicer refuse.

  Personally, Kath rankled at such waste, to see a planet with breathable air and livable environments abandoned to languish and play host to parasites like simple farmers, shopkeepers, and filthy smugglers. Kath adored the orderly world of a Star Destroyer, the sharp lines and planes of architecture and the way doors slid silently and effortlessly closed, which meant he found the disarray of such wilderness insufferable, sneering at the way it was allowed to grow unchecked. The First Order had found him living in the slums on a desert moon in the Unknown Regions as a boy, and he’d never seen real nature until his first assignment onplanet. Consequently, trees made him uncomfortable.

  When he’d determined that everything was exactly as it should be, Kath and four of his stormtroopers loaded into their landspeeder and took off for Black Spire Outpost. As they approached the jagged and aesthetically egregious structures, he made mental notes about the town, from its haphazard nature to the various natural landmarks along the way. As soon as they were among what must’ve passed for the outer limits of the outpost, people began to stare and whisper. They weren’t a cosmopolitan folk, and they had unstudied manners and rough clothes that looked handcrafted of natural materials. When Kath saw another landspeeder parked at a filling station that looked like it also operated as a mechanic bay, he directed his pilot to park there.

  “Bright suns,” a young woman in a blue tunic and goggles said as she approached.

  “That’s close enough,” Kath barked.

  She stopped, both hands up. “No offense meant. I’m Salju, and this is my filling station. Do you need fuel?”

  Kath stepped out of his speeder and looked down at the girl, noting her worn boots and grease-stained cheek and filing her away as a simpleton. “I need information.”

  Salju put her hands on her hips and nodded. She looked wary. That was normal enough, though; the First Order could be terrifying, when they had to be, and all his soldiers carried blasters.

  “I’ll try to help,” the girl said.

  “I need to know who’s in charge here.”

  Salju smiled, a little impish, which Kath didn’t like. “That would be Oga Garra. She runs the cantina and the spaceport and a lot more besides. If you want to see her, you’ll need to ask at the bar. If you continue through the market, you can’t miss it. She’s a private sort, though, so you may need to deal with her second in command, a Karkarodon named Rusko.”

  Kath snorted. “Oh, she’ll see me.”

  Salju inclined her head. “As you say. May the spires keep you.”

  Kath returned to his seat in the speeder. “They definitely will not.”

  They had no problem finding the cantina, and Kath regretted the necessity of entering a place so rife with unsavory characters. He would have to polish his boots the moment they returned to their camp. He left one soldier in the speeder and instructed the other three to march before him with the same precision they would’ve exhibited when lining up for a speech from General Hux.

  “Just because the ground is uneven does not mean you may falter,” he reminded them. “You represent the First Order, and I’m certain you can imagine how the Supreme Leader would expect you to carry yourselves.”

  There were rules posted just inside the cantina, which he didn’t bother to read. If he broke a rule, they were welcome to attempt to throw him out and see if the wall still stood afterward.

  Kath signaled for his troopers to halt and strode toward the bar, where a curious old woman watched him, one eyebrow approaching long, golden bangs that had to be a wig.

  “Bright suns,” she said, almost a question.

  “Where is Oga Garra?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Only the ancients know.”

  He put a hand on his blaster. “Let me be more specific. I will see Oga Garra now.”

  “That’s not mine to decide,” she shot back, unafraid. “But I’ll let someone know.”

  The old woman disappeared, and after a few moments a new barkeep approached him, a younger woman who might’ve been pretty if he cared about such things, which he didn’t.

  “Get you a drink, sir?”

  He lifted a lip in disgust at such a thought. “I’m on duty.”

  The woman smiled a practiced sort of smile. “Well, come back when you’re not. We’ve got over twenty—”

  “No.”

  That single word, spoken so coldly, shut the girl right up, and she went off to find some greasy glasses to polish elsewhere.

  Soon a burly Karkarodon in leather armor swaggered out from a dark hall and looked Kath up and down. Kath sized him up in turn and experienced the strange feeling of knowing he wasn’t the largest guy around. That didn’t happen to him often, in the First Order.

  “Heard you want to see Oga,” the Karkarodon said.

  “You must be Rusko. So let me tell you how it goes. I’m Lieutenant Wulfgar Kath of the First Order, and I have been sent here by General Armitage Hux himself. My men have enough firepower to kill everyone in this town and enough ordnance to leave nothing but rubble behind. So don’t play the local tough-guy business with me, because I’m tougher. And don’t act like y
ou’re some sort of gatekeeper. Because I destroy gates.”

  Rusko laughed, a horrible scraping sound, and rubbed thick, sandpapery knuckles over what passed for his chin.

  “I like you, Kath. Come along, and I’ll take you to Oga—but only you. And maybe don’t play so hard with her, eh? She’s used to being in charge.”

  He turned to walk down the hall, and Kath signaled his men to stay—and stay alert—before he followed.

  “Let’s do each other a courtesy, Rusko. You try not to tell me my business and I’ll try not to beat you to death.”

  “I was just offering some friendly advice to an offworlder. We do things different in BSO.” The Karkarodon unlocked a hidden door and led Kath down another dark hall and up to a closed door. “But suit yourself. Just remember: You’re real far away from the people who care about you, both on the planet and especially down here. The walls, floor, and ceiling are solid stone. Nobody in the cantina would hear a blaster bolt, much less your screams.” He unlocked the door and waved a goodbye as he backed away. “May you have the better hand!”

  “Insufferable colloquialisms,” Kath muttered to himself as he stepped inside and waited for his eyes to adjust. At the other end of the room, a Blutopian sat at a desk surrounded by tablets and holographic screens. She didn’t look up as he entered, but she did pluck a stone snail from a large clay bowl and crunch into it noisily before sucking out its soft bits with a slurping wriggle of the pink tentacles around her mouth.

  “Figured you’d show up sooner or later,” she rumbled in Huttese, her voice like a serrated blade on a ship’s metal hull. Kath knew just enough Huttese to get by, and he had to assume she had the same understanding of Basic, even if her mouthparts would have trouble speaking it.

  “I am Lieutenant Wulfgar Kath of the First Order, and—”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Wulfgar’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Excuse me?”

  Oga looked up from her screens, the low light gleaming off her tiny black eyes. “It doesn’t matter what your name is. I know why you’re here, and I know what you want.”