“Did you kill everyone?” Dolin asked. “Is the First Order gone?”
Putting her boots on the ground and testing her ability to stand, Vi shook her head. “No. We got their officer, Kath, and two stormtroopers—I think. Shot the fingers off a third trooper, so unless he’s ambidextrous, he probably won’t be shooting at us again. Add those to the ones I took down in the market and in the ruins, and that’s…uh…” Her head was spinning.
“Eight dead, one wounded,” Kriki supplied.
“Nine down. And we still have no idea how many soldiers Kath ultimately brought with him.” Vi sighed and flicked her eyes at Archex, hoping he would say something about what kind of numbers they could expect, but he just looked away.
Fine. So he wasn’t ready to let the others know about his past yet. Vi would find him, later, to strategize. After they’d both gotten some rest. But first she had to play Mother Hen and get everything sorted.
“I doubt I’ll be functional tomorrow. Ylena, can you please tell Savi that I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to work for a couple of days?”
Ylena chuckled. “Oh, he already knows. And as you know, gathering—I mean, scrapping—is not that kind of job. Return to us when you’re well in heart and mind. Work only half a day, if you need to, enjoying the company in the morning and then napping through the heat of the afternoon. We will always be there, when you’re ready.”
As with everything Ylena said, there were undercurrents that Vi could detect but not accurately decode. Ylena was always saying two things at once, it seemed. But the overall gist was that she could heal and work when she was ready without getting fired, which was a better deal than most employers offered.
“And can you take back the speeder before something happens to it? I already owe Savi too much and don’t want to pay for any dings.” She tossed a glance at Zade, who was admiring the controls, running a finger over the fuelboost button.
Ylena inclined her head. “I can. Dolin, do you want to ride with me and join the others at the cantina?”
Dolin fidgeted with Waba’s leash. “That would, uh, that would be great!”
But Ylena cocked her head to the side. “Waba was the one who tracked Vi’s path to the First Order transport, right?”
Dolin squatted down to scratch the hog’s back, making him snort-purr with pleasure. “That’s right! Old Waba can find anything, if you give him a sniff first.”
“So if I let him sniff certain artifacts at the scrapyard, he might be able to find similar objects in the piles?”
“Probably.” Dolin considered it. “Although we’d need to be careful that he didn’t eat something unsafe or scratch his snout on rusted metal.”
Ylena’s face lit up with a smile. “Then perhaps you’ll consider bringing him along tomorrow. If he can do what I think he can do and find what I think he can find, the artifacts uncovered might greatly accelerate your ability to buy large pieces of equipment for your facility.”
“That’s some pig,” Vi said appreciatively. “Remind me to scratch him behind the ears when I can move again. Good luck, everybody. Good job. Thanks for saving my life. I’m gonna go into a coma now.”
She wasn’t sure how she made it back to her bunk, much less how she managed to get all the armor or her wig off, but she experienced a moment of utter ecstasy as she was finally wearing nothing but her underclothes and settled in under a blanket. After her years with the Resistance, it was hard to remember the last time she’d slept in a proper bed, which this rough stone niche definitely was not, but being horizontal and not in First Order binders was enough. At some point as she slept, Pook arrived and injected her with something or other, complaining all the while about the annoyances and multiple weaknesses of flesh and internal organs, but she just went back to sleep.
Time ceased to have meaning. The lights dimmed and rose, people came and went, Pook prodded her and scanned her and muttered. She drifted in and out of dreams. One time, she woke up screaming, and Kriki patted her hair gently and told her everything was going to be fine. Another time, she felt something cold and wet on her cheek and woke from a nightmare to find Waba licking away tears. But when Vi finally opened her eyes and sat up, feeling almost healed in body, if not mind, she knew one thing very clearly.
Despite whatever work Kriki had done to break down the First Order’s communications on Batuu, the remaining troopers were eventually going to blast back out into space, return to their main ship, and let their leaders know exactly what had happened here.
And then Vi’s worst premonitions would come true, and these good people would learn the might and power of the First Order.
They would be crushed, along with Leia’s plans for the Resistance base.
Which meant it was Vi’s job to stop that from happening.
“SIR? SIR!”
Lieutenant Wulfgar Kath tried to open his eyes, but the bright light only made his skull hurt worse. It was like the worst hangover of his life combined with heavy dehydration and a round of kickboxing in the gym. His head felt like a metal box full of ashes and wet towels, and even tiny movements were bad enough to make him wince and, to his great disappointment, whimper.
“He’s alive.”
Kath’s troopers helped him sit up and hobble to the transport’s medbay. He was not the sort of man who would allow himself to be undressed by his inferiors, so he lay there in full uniform, down to his shined black boots. He could actually see some spots and scuffs on them, which he found intolerable. But not nearly as intolerable as the story the troopers told him about how his prisoner had escaped.
He drifted in and out of consciousness for days and finally woke in a medcenter gown, his beard overgrown and his temper high. His second in command told him more bad news about how the Resistance had taken a cache of valuable supplies, a datapad full of First Order codes and plans, and their overall ability to communicate, whether long range or just across the outpost. Their helmets were basically useless now.
This was beyond a headache.
This was a catastrophe.
The only good news was that if General Hux called again, he would get nothing but dead air.
The bad news was that if that happened too many times, General Hux would send down another ship, and then Kath’s mission and career would meet a short and violent end.
“It’s a good thing you were wearing that armored vest, sir,” the medical droid observed, checking Kath’s vital signs. “Your chest is badly bruised, but nothing has been broken, and there’s no hemorrhaging.”
“Then fix me up and let me get back to business,” Kath said coldly.
“You have a concussion, sir. A very bad concussion. Further blunt-force trauma would’ve left you with irreparable brain damage. You’re going to be confused, dizzy, and incapacitated for several more days at least.”
Kath sighed heavily, which hurt like hell. “Then fetch the stims and boosters. I can’t believe you haven’t already put them to use.”
The meddroid looked to the nearest trooper, Kath’s second in command, CE-6675, who cleared his throat. “They’ve been stolen.”
That hit home; Kath needed those supplies. “All of them?” Kath asked in disbelief. “Including the ones in cold storage?
“All of them, sir. As well as many of our medical supplies.”
Even with his brain muddled, Kath quickly put two and two together. “If they knew where to find them that quickly, then one of them must be ex–First Order. Considering Starling is here, I’d wager it’s Cardinal. Did anyone see a man fitting his description?”
“Yes, sir.” Kath carefully swung his head around to address a trooper sitting on another berth in the medbay, his hand wrapped in a bacta glove. He was young, in his twenties, and his face was a war of pain and shame. “It was Captain Cardinal. He ran off with the Resistance spy and a thin man in flamboyant clothes. They split u
p, and I was unable to catch them.”
Kath took a deep and painful breath and felt the vein throbbing in his forehead. “You couldn’t catch them? You’re part of the most highly trained army in the galaxy, and you couldn’t catch any of them?”
The trooper held up his hand. “They shot off two of my fingers, sir. I was unable to pull the trigger of my blaster. And as I was the only trooper in the immediate vicinity left alive, I felt it unwise to leave you unattended, lest there be other hostiles in the area.”
“Your blood pressure is dangerously high, sir,” the meddroid noted, only fueling Kath’s rage; he hated being told things that were obvious.
Still, Kath struggled to control his temper, breathing through his nose and quivering with rage. “If the situation were favorable, you would be severely punished, and this droid would be melted for scrap.”
The meddroid wisely and silently returned to his closet.
“But we’re down to fourteen troopers—”
“Twelve, sir,” CE-6675 corrected. “Two were killed in the escape.”
Teeth grinding, Kath muttered, “Down to only twelve troopers. You’re dropping off like flies. Maybe I should put you all in the brig and request reinforcements, considering the failure of this squad.”
Not that he would do that—his troopers had no idea how much was riding on this mission for him—but he needed to motivate them somehow.
“Should we prepare to rendezvous with the Penumbra, sir?” CE-6675 asked. “They’ll have a more advanced medbay and will be able to tend to your wounds better. With the supplies left on hand, I’m afraid there’s little the meddroid can do. He has recommended rest and rehydration.” CE-6675 stepped back, hands behind his back in a show of deference that suggested he knew he’d overstepped his bounds.
“No. Absolutely not. I will not leave this planet until I have Starling in hand and have crushed whatever base the Resistance has built here and punished all their allies.”
“But, sir—”
Kath picked up the canteen by his side and threw it at CE-6675 with all his might. The heavy container bounced off the trooper’s betaplast armor and fell to the floor with a clunk. “I said no! Do not attempt to interrupt me again unless you want to be rebuked for insubordination, CE-6675. Just because I have a concussion doesn’t mean you’re free to opine on my strategy or the orders of my superiors. Remember your place.”
The trooper stepped back, head bent in acknowledgment. “Yes, sir.”
“Nothing has changed. Our mission remains the same. The troopers we lost were either weak or foolish, and good riddance. Those who are left must step up to the challenge and prove they are worthy soldiers of the First Order. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
“No, sir!” every stormtrooper in the area barked.
Kath tried nodding but found it made him want to vomit. “Good,” he said. “Then here are your orders. Go into the outpost and rough up these yokels. Question them about the Resistance spy. Hurt them—in her name. Threaten their families. Make them reconsider their allegiance to our enemy. Show them the might of the First Order. Repay those who appear eager to help us find victory. We caught Starling last time because she stepped in to defend civilians.”
Kath smiled and settled back into the pillows.
“Force her to do it again.”
VI HAD NO IDEA WHAT DAY it was when she hobbled into the room they were using as a mess hall. It smelled of caf, and she found the carafe beside a stack of metal cups and poured herself a healing portion. Dolin and Kriki looked up from their places at the makeshift table and smiled, but Archex, as expected, only scowled.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed yet,” he said. “Pook estimated that at least two more days would be necessary for you to heal properly.”
Vi rolled her eyes as she sat down heavily on a crate. “First of all, most of what bothers me won’t ever heal, so I’m not holding my breath. Second, I feel pretty good and have work to do. Third.” She put her hands on the table and cocked her head. “How long did Pook tell you to stay in bed?”
Archex cleared his throat and sipped his caf. “Uh,” he said. “How about that local holo-chess team?”
Vi snorted, glad to see a tiny glimmer of his sense of humor returning. “That’s what I thought. Somebody catch me up on what I’ve missed, in the outpost and around here, if you will.”
“The sentient beings were vexing, I am filled with existential dread, and your broken rib is mostly healed,” Pook said from a corner, where he appeared to be drilling holes in the rock just to make an annoying noise.
“Great, Pook. Good info. Next?”
Kriki puffed up her chest as she took a deep breath. “I was able to use the datapad to completely scramble their communications. Anytime they attempt to use their helmet comms, they’ll be patched into Palob Godalhi’s radio show.” She giggled into her hands. “And I jammed the signal on their on-ship long-range comm, so there’s no slicing out of that. I also reset and scrambled the comlink you found on the officer so you’ll be able to use their ship as a relay to reach the general, but their scans will just show some interference as it pings. Oh! And as you’ve learned, I bought some fresh caf in the market.”
That news made Vi grin so hard it hurt her bruised face. “Good job. Very, very good job. If I could pay you, I would pay you double. I’d say we’re just a few dead troopers away from having the perfect setup.”
“There’s bad news, too,” Archex began.
“Of course there is,” Vi muttered. “Hit me.”
Now Dolin spoke up. “The troopers have been spending more time in the outpost since the attack. They’re roughing up shopkeepers who won’t help them or who claim they know nothing about you or the Resistance. And the locals who want to help the First Order—those cowardly womp rats—the soldiers are giving them credits. Which means some people are starting to change their minds about you. About us.” His head hung. “One of the soldiers hit Oh-li with his blaster. Broke her jaw. She and Jenda still wouldn’t say anything.”
Vi’s heart seized up as she thought of how much suffering good people were willing to undergo in the pursuit of what was right. It was just like the First Order to figure out how to hurt her the most—by threatening innocent people. Of course, that was what they did best, anyway.
“Okay, so let’s think about this. We’ve got the surviving stormtroopers, but no officer. These troopers—they’re not paid to think, right?” She looked to Archex.
He snorted. “They’re paid to do as they’re told. Any instincts regarding creative thinking or rebellion against authority are programmed out—or they wash out and get sent to the mines or factories. So if they have no leader, then the highest-ranking trooper will take over. If they can’t contact their superior officers for further orders, they’ll most likely get offplanet as soon as they can.”
Vi looked up at him. “How much time before that happens?”
Archex shrugged. “Depends entirely on the trooper in charge. They could be making preparations right now, or they could have a tech with enough slicing skill to get the comms working. No offense, Kriki.”
“Oh, no,” Dolin muttered.
Everyone looked at him.
“One of the people who was saying nice stuff about the First Order was this skeezy slicer who hangs out at Oga’s—Marin Anke. Bought a round at the bar last night and said everyone could thank the First Order. D’you think they might be using him to fix whatever Kriki broke?”
Vi leaned forward. “This changes things. We’ve got to make sure that ship doesn’t get offplanet. If Hux and his cronies find out that not only am I here, but I killed their officer and the local populace is friendly to the Resistance…” She trailed off.
“They’ll kill everyone,” Archex continued for her. “They have no respect for people, for culture. Old, young, native, visiting, sid
ing with the Resistance or the First Order or remaining neutral. They’ll raze the outpost to the ground and forget it ever existed.”
A dark silence spread around the room as the makeshift lights buzzed overhead. Vi looked to each person there—Archex, Kriki, Dolin. She even looked at Pook, for all that he had no eyes. Zade, she knew, was probably sleeping off whatever he’d drunk last night. This site was never meant to be a permanent thing—it was just a collection of cobbled-together tech where Resistance ships could land for a while, where volunteers could come together to help plan strategy or teach recruits how to shoot and fly and slice. For all that they’d chosen a space created and lived in by the ancients, now it was just the briefest rest stop in the wide galaxy.
And yet Vi was willing to die for it, for this team that had collected around her and for the people of Black Spire Outpost. Savi and Ylena and the Gatherers, doing what they could to fight evil and helping her, even when they didn’t have to. Jenda and Oh-li, saying no even when they knew it would get them hurt. Salju trekking toward the crash not to loot it—but to make sure that if someone needed help, they would receive it.
These were good people, and this was their place.
And in a way, for now, it was Vi’s place.
And that meant that it was up to her to save it.
She took a deep breath.
“Okay, so let’s figure out how to make sure that ship never leaves Batuu.”
Everyone nodded.
“Can we just blow up their ship?” Dolin asked.
Vi gave him a warm smile. “I wish it were that easy. If the ship just exploded onplanet, the suits up in space would know that someone here had taken decisive action against the First Order. At the very best, they’d send another officer and a larger squadron to investigate. At worst, they’d skip that step and go straight to setting everything on fire, just in case.”
Kriki’s nose fluttered. “So we can’t kill their soldiers or blow up their ship, but we also can’t let them leave?”
Galaxy's Edge Page 29
