A New Dawn

by John Jackson Miller

  Hera watched as Expedient circled the facility. “Are we going to have a problem getting back out?”

  He shook his head. “Doubt it. These beams are for traffic manipulation. This place is so well protected, they wouldn’t need tractor beams rated to yank fleeing ships from the sky.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  Kanan stood up to stretch his legs—and thought back. There was one thing the controller had said that had disturbed him. “Weird. They changed our call sign.”

  “I know why,” Zaluna called. Kanan turned to see her on the chair across from Skelly. As soon as they’d left hyperspace, she’d gotten her datapad out and started looking for news on the public channels. “They changed your name because there is no more Moonglow.”

  “What?”

  “Moonglow has been blamed for the big blast on Cynda.”

  Across the aisle, Skelly gawked. “That’s not true!”

  Zaluna shook her head. “It was a Moonglow team that found your first bomb, remember?”

  Kanan rolled his eyes. “I was there. Don’t remind me.”

  “I was in the Transcept monitoring room when the word went out on that,” Zaluna said. “They called it a natural occurrence, so nobody would get spooked about the mining company’s practices—”

  “Or would see that a dissident existed,” Hera put in.

  “Right. Now they’ve totally changed that story, saying that the collapse earlier this week and the giant explosion were both Moonglow’s doing. The company has been dissolved, with its assets placed under Imperial control.”

  “Nothing like stomping all over someone’s good name after you’ve killed them,” Kanan said. Lal Grallik had been nice to him. Count Vidian was starting to roll up some big numbers in the debt column.

  Expedient traced a long arc toward a massive disk-shaped landing station connected by huge spars to the rest of the facility. Several open ports revealed a sprawling loading area.

  The comm system came to life again as the vessel cruised into the landing bay. “On landing, debark and begin loading product as it arrives on the conveyers. Take standard precautions—you’re on our turf now.”

  “Great,” Kanan said when the transmission ended. “Now I guess I work for the Empire.” He looked to Hera. “What’s the plan?”

  “The plan is, you do what they tell you,” she said, standing up and checking her comlink. “Load the ship. And wait for my call.”

  Kanan’s eyes widened. “Wait. You’re leaving?”

  “That’s right,” she said, adjusting the blaster in her holster. “I’m going to destroy the station.”

  Kanan nearly fell over Hera’s feet trying to get between her and the door. “Destroy the station?” He couldn’t believe his ears. “I thought you were all about being careful and undercover. Now who’s the loose cannon?”

  “I know what I’m doing.” Hera looked directly up at him and explained, a little less patient than she had been until now. “Cynda isn’t just some little rock in the sky above Gorse, Kanan. I read up in the ship’s gazetteer while you were sleeping. Zaluna was right. It’s a rogue planet that entered the system and got captured—massive enough they might start revolving around each other in a million years, if Cynda doesn’t break up first.”

  She pointed her thumb toward the aft of the ship. “But you saw how many starships are here. They’re going back to break up the moon for sure, and not in a million years. They’re doing it now. The people down below on Gorse are in danger now. So something has to be done now.”

  Kanan refused to budge. “Here I thought I was the suicide flier.”

  “I call it logic.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the deck. “Now, are you going to get out of my way or not?”

  Shaking his head, Kanan stepped away from the airlock door.

  She looked back at the others. “I’m sorry things worked out this way. If I don’t make it back, you should try to warn people somehow. Then Kanan can take you someplace safe.” She paused. “Somewhere besides Gorse.”

  Kanan looked at Zaluna, who was clutching her bag tightly to her and shaking her head over the thought of losing her homeworld. “The Jedi used to take care of these things.”

  The remark startled Kanan. Jedi were a topic people weren’t supposed to speak of. “What do you know about the Jedi, Zaluna?”

  “More than that silly story the Empire put out about them.” She looked up wistfully. “I saw Jedi in action, you know, long before you were born. If innocent lives were threatened, they would figure out what to do. Even in a no-win situation.”

  Hera nodded. “We could use one, now.”

  “Or maybe it’s time for people to be their own Jedi.” Emboldened by the subject she was speaking on, Zaluna looked confidently from Hera to Kanan. “They weren’t gods—just people like us, who saw a need. If they could find a way, I’m sure we can.”

  Maybe, Kanan thought.

  And then it came to him.

  “Wait,” he said, as she started to work the door handle. “Let’s say you somehow blow this whole monstrosity up. Are there other depots like this?”

  Hera looked back at him, nodded. “Not exactly like this, but there are stockpiles in every sector.”

  “So if the Emperor thinks having a bunch of easy thorilide is worth ruining the Gorse system already, wouldn’t he just try it again?”

  “I imagine so.”

  “Then I don’t get what you’re trying to accomplish,” Kanan said. “You’re the one that thinks futile gestures are stupid.”

  “I’m buying time.”

  “For what? Is it worth sacrificing yourself to delay the inevitable?”

  Hera shrugged. “I don’t want to sacrifice myself, no. But you’re describing a situation where we just sit back and let the Empire do whatever it wants.”

  “No, no. There’s another answer. It’s not enough to prevent it now. We’ve got to make them never want to try it again.”

  Kanan’s mind raced. Hera watched him, curious. “Go on.”

  He began talking, not yet sure where he was going. “Okay, look. The Empire didn’t even have this fool idea until they got it from Skelly—”

  “Fool that I am,” Skelly interjected bitterly.

  “—and then they tested it, back there with that big blast. But how did they know the test worked—that it didn’t destroy the thorilide it freed?”

  “I saw probes searching the debris,” Hera offered.

  “So did I,” Kanan said. He began pacing. “Vidian wouldn’t just demolish a moon without the Emperor’s say-so. He’d have to send a report.” He paused and snapped his fingers. “So we send another report—or ‘fix’ the one he’s about to send.”

  “Yeah, just let me at it,” Skelly said, interested. “I can throw cold water on the whole thing. I’ll say crushing the moon will ruin what they’re going after!”

  “So we say the test didn’t work.” Hera nodded. “It would cause confusion—maybe slow them down until we can warn people. But can we make it look legitimate?”

  “No problem,” Zaluna volunteered. “Where would something like that be kept?”

  “With Vidian,” Kanan said. He scratched the side of his head and looked at Zaluna. “Would you be able to find him using the station’s surveillance?”

  “Maybe,” she said. Then, “Yes. Just get me to a terminal I can slice.”

  Hera seemed pleased. “I like it better than blowing the place up. But this will be harder than just me sneaking around. Skelly’s known, and we may be, too, for all we know.”

  Kanan nodded. Then something told him to turn around. Outside, a flash of color caught his eye. “Wait,” he said, recognizing what it was. “Look!”

  Hera and Skelly joined Kanan far forward and looked out onto the landing deck of the shipping node. A dozen other freighters—Baby Carriers and former thorilide haulers alike—were parked with their ramps down. Under the watchful eyes of ranks of stormtroopers, individuals short and tall de
scended from the vessels, all wearing head-to-toe coverings in fluorescent orange.

  “Hazmat suits,” Hera observed.

  “We’re here to load baradium-357, all right,” Kanan said. “That’s Naughty Baby.”

  Supporting himself against the back of the passenger seat, Skelly nodded. “It’s like we guessed. They need the big stuff to destroy the moon. I ran the numbers on it in my report—wishing I hadn’t.”

  Hera stared. “What are the suits for? Does it blow up if you breathe on it?”

  “That’s not the reason for them,” Skelly said, hobbling back to his seat. “The canisters have an outer shell full of toxic coolant. Nasty stuff, if it leaks.”

  “Will it kill you?”

  “Maybe. But you’ll kill a bunch of people first. It’s psychoactive—produces irrational violent impulses.”

  Kanan laughed. “Check around your house for some, Skelly. It’d explain a lot.” Then something dawned on him. Kanan snapped his fingers and turned. Expedient’s supply cabinet was between the forward compartment and the cargo area. Opening the door, he beheld his own supply of bright orange outfits, hanging neatly from a rack. Masks sat on an upper shelf. “I’ve seen these in here but never used them.”

  Hera stood before the door and stared. “You’ve got your own wardrobe?”

  Kanan removed a suit. “That’s Lal’s thinking. We never knew what we’d be carrying from day to day, and she didn’t want anyone getting hurt. The suits are meant to be thrown away, so they’re cheap enough. And one-size-fits-all. Or most, anyway.”

  Efficient, Kanan thought, though he decided against mentioning that Vidian would probably approve. He looked back to Skelly and Zaluna. “We’d need you both with us. It could be dangerous—”

  “Tosh,” Zaluna said, rising. “We know what’s at stake.”

  Skelly rolled his eyes. “Let’s go before my meds wear off, and I start thinking clearly.”

  “Okay,” Hera said, pulling down the masks. “We try this your way. But if this doesn’t work out, we go back to my plan.”

  “Dying is never a plan. But you’ve got a deal.”

  It was the rare space station that a Star Destroyer could dock with. Among Calcoraan Depot’s many arms was a long astrobridge that mated to an airlock on Ultimatum’s hull. Sloane figured Vidian had calculated some minuscule time savings in it.

  He had met her at the connecting port. Greeted was too strong a word, since as usual he seemed to be engaged in silent comlink communication with someone else. Given how many sights they passed, their ride in the tramcar from node to node felt like a tour—only a tour in which the guide had almost nothing to say.

  They passed an arrival area in which heavily plated robots were being disassembled. She had never seen anything like them. “What are those?”

  “Droids.”

  “Of what sort?”

  “Heat-tolerant. The depot supplies projects across the sector, not just Gorse.”

  She was anxious to show what she knew. “Heat-proof. Baron Danthe’s firm made them, then? He holds the monopoly.”

  Vidian visibly bristled at the baron’s name. “Yes. Many firms supply the Empire, including his.”

  “But those are employees of one of your firms taking them apart.” She recognized the logos on the uniforms.

  “Standard maintenance.” Vidian accelerated the tramcar, indicating the subject was closed.

  They rode on past several more junctions, offering opportunities for more glimpses of the depot’s shipments and more terse exchanges with Vidian. Sloane wondered if Vidian even remembered that he had asked her here.

  “It’s an amazing place,” she finally said. “I appreciate the opportunity to see it.”

  “You don’t find the logistical world too tedious?” he asked as their car began to slow.

  “It’s what makes the Empire go.”

  “Agreed,” Vidian said. He pointed to a small cabinet in the car. “You’ll want what’s in there.”

  Sloane opened the compartment and withdrew a transparent face mask. Donning it, she saw a sign for landing station 77 up ahead. There were hazmat-suited workers all around the floor, taking meter-high cylindrical drums from pneumatic tubes and delivering them to freighters. “The explosives,” he said, gesturing. “Being loaded here and at several other nodes, for return to Cynda. Testing has shown that organics will move explosives more quickly than droids will. Fear is a useful motivator.”

  “Of course.” She looked at Vidian, maskless. “Don’t you need—?”

  “My lungs have been augmented to reject poisons.”

  The car stopped, and Vidian stepped out onto the shipping floor. Sloane followed.

  “The explosives must be deposited deep within Cynda using shafts drilled at precise locations.” He paused and looked at her. “My prep teams are already en route to the moon, but your military engineers could help speed things along.”

  Now we’re to it, Sloane thought. “Of course. They’re at your disposal.”

  “Fine.” A red-clad human stepped forward to Vidian, offering him a datapad. The count passed it to Sloane. “Convey these instructions to your crew.”

  As a pair of workers passed carrying drums, another tramcar arrived from a different direction. Vidian gestured toward the loading floor. “I must finalize my report for the Emperor. Stay and educate yourself.” He walked toward the vehicle. Then he paused and looked back at her. “It’s good to have an ally in the military who understands what I’m doing.”

  It was the closest thing to warmth she’d seen from him. She bowed her head. “Your lordship commands.”

  “That’s our boy,” Kanan mumbled as he set a canister on the deck of the loading floor.

  Hera nodded, anonymous in her orange getup but for the big bumps on the loose-fitting head covering where it protected her head-tails. “He hasn’t sent the report yet,” she said, her lovely voice muffled by the mask. “More luck that he’d drop by here!”

  “If you can call it that.”

  “Skelly!” Hera called out.

  Kanan pivoted to see the hooded Skelly limping through the crowd of busy workers toward Vidian. Worse, he was carrying his pouch of explosives. His blood running cold, Kanan picked up the baradium canister and started walking quickly in that direction.

  Skelly was a dozen meters away from Vidian’s back and reaching for his bag when Kanan interposed himself. He shoved the canister into Skelly’s hands. “Here you go, buddy. Back to the ship.”

  Skelly, his expression invisible through the opaque faceplate, seemed poised to keep on going. “Don’t you see?”

  Vidian? You bet, Kanan wanted to say. Instead, he twirled Skelly around. He nodded to one of the stormtroopers standing guard. “Sorry. Big place. Easy to get turned about.”

  Skelly resisted as Kanan pulled him away from the tramline. Vidian was in the car already, seemingly none the wiser. “Skelly, have you lost your mind?”

  “But he’s right there, Kanan!”

  “Not now!” Kanan pulled him back across to where Expedient was parked. “You want to blow us all up?”

  “It’s him or us.”

  “That’d be him and us,” Hera said. Stepping over, she took the canister from Skelly’s hands while Kanan pulled the bag off his shoulder.

  “Watch him,” Kanan said, turning to Expedient’s ramp. “I’m putting this where he can’t get it.”

  Kanan shook his head as he locked the sack of bombs away. Time had only seemed to magnify the injuries Skelly had suffered at Vidian’s hands; it was getting harder to get the guy to see reason through his pain. As he disembarked, Kanan saw that Hera had stationed Skelly by the ramp with a datapad, pretending to take inventory. That was the best place for him, right now.

  Zaluna approached carrying a canister as gingerly as she might carry an infant. “Will they blow up if you drop them?”

  “Just a little,” Skelly said.

  “He’s kidding,” Kanan said. “But if you do, make
sure that hood is secure.” He didn’t want to imagine Zaluna on a chemically induced killing spree.

  Minutes later, Hera returned from a nonchalant walkabout of the loading floor. “Okay, Vidian’s gone to the hub,” she said in a low voice. The layout was on Skelly’s datapad now, having been downloaded from a nearby terminal by Zaluna—but it had taken too long to get, and Expedient was nearly fully loaded. They’d be expected to leave the station after that.

  “We need to slow this down,” Hera added. “And I don’t know how we can get over there.”

  Kanan suppressed a chuckle. “And you were thinking you were going to have the run of the place.”

  “I’m not taking this bunch through the ductwork,” she said, looking about. “And the stormtroopers are everywhere, making sure we’re where we’re supposed to be.”

  Kanan looked back the way Vidian had departed. There were three parallel portals there: a service hallway, with the canister-delivering pneumatic conduit on the left and the tramcar tube opening on the right. Kanan put his finger in the air. “There’s the answer,” he said. “We change where we’re supposed to be.”

  Before she could ask him anything, Kanan stepped away.

  Whistling to himself, he casually strolled over to the conduit where canisters, gingerly moved along on a gentle cushion of air, appeared in the loading area. Glimpsing left and right and seeing no one looking, Kanan disappeared up the service tunnel.

  He saw there what he’d seen when walking past earlier: a spindly-looking silver droid, minding the controls on the outside of the tube. Kanan walked past to a maintenance door on the tube’s exterior. With a twist, he snapped the hatch open.

  “Wait!” the droid chirped. “You can’t do that!” It clanked toward Kanan—who then grabbed it, shoving it bodily into the meter-wide tube. With a shove, he jammed its torso backward, fully lodging it inside. Then he slammed the maintenance panel shut.

  The blockage light was already flashing outside the opening when he stepped back out onto the loading floor. Kanan looked at the light and swore loudly. “The stupid thing’s stuck.”

  Workers gathered at the opening. Sloane marched over. “What’s going on here?”