Star Wars: Rebel Rising

by Revis, Beth

  Hadder shrugged. “They’re just rodents.”

  “They’re amazing,” Jyn insisted. “We spend so much time pushing the edges of our galaxy, jumping on ships to explore new planets, but we know almost nothing about each individual world. There is so much about each planet that’s unique, that’s special, and we ignore it because we’re so busy trying to throw ourselves into space.”

  “To be fair,” Hadder said, sweeping Jyn’s hair off her shoulder so he could kiss her neck, “I’m much more focused on throwing myself at you.”

  Jyn playfully pushed him aside. “If you were so interested, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

  “Because if you didn’t want me, you would break my heart and potentially my body.”

  Jyn leaned in closer, her lips centimeters from his. “Who’s to say I won’t do that anyway?”

  Hadder fell back onto the blanket. “You can do whatever you want to my body,” he said, his hooded eyes gazing up at her.

  So she did.

  It was dark by the time they got back. And Akshaya was there. Waiting in the hangar.

  “I didn’t take the ship offworld,” Hadder said the second he saw his mother.

  Akshaya cocked an eyebrow, and Jyn knew that for once she wasn’t worried about his flying. Akshaya’s gaze settled on Jyn, and she looked at her with evaluating eyes. Jyn hoped that she measured up.

  “Why are you back so soon?” Jyn asked.

  Akshaya’s shoulders sagged, and she turned around, heading back to their house. Hadder shot Jyn a worried look as he hurried to catch up.

  “Mum?” he asked.

  She waited until they were all back inside before she spoke. “The Empire’s cracking down. More than half the mines I usually ship for are now Imperial run.”

  Jyn sucked in her breath. She had suspected as much based on how little work Akshaya had been doing lately and how close they were to the Tamsye Prime system, but she had let Akshaya’s confidence lull her into complacency.

  “I wasn’t able to bring back enough ore,” Akshaya continued. Her eyes were red-rimmed and tired. “And there were Imperial officers at the refinery when I came in with what little I had for delivery.”

  Every nerve in Jyn was vibrating. She wanted nothing more than to run, right now, straight to a ship, straight to space. But she had Akshaya now, and Hadder.

  She wasn’t going anywhere. Not without them.

  “I know some places,” Jyn said in a small voice. “With your ship and my passes, we could…”

  Akshaya was already shaking her head.

  “Mum, we’re not children,” Hadder said. “We can fly. We’re not going to die like Tanith.”

  “It’s not that,” Akshaya said. “We can’t let the Empire run us out of business. I talked with Dasa at the refinery. She’s not going to sell the operation. I’ll just need to find new trade routes, different mines to work with.”

  Hadder was all nervous energy, stomping around the room. But Jyn was perfectly still. “The Empire doesn’t work like that,” she said.

  Hadder kept pacing, but Akshaya’s attention shifted to Jyn.

  “If the Empire wants the refinery, it will have it,” Jyn continued. “Not selling is not an option.”

  “The Empire’s not the best,” Akshaya admitted, “but they have to follow their own laws.”

  “No, they don’t,” Jyn said, but Akshaya ignored her.

  “I’m going to the diner,” Hadder announced, turning on his heel. Akshaya looked surprised but let her son leave the house.

  “They don’t,” Jyn told Akshaya again, forcing her attention back to her. “The Empire…you’re right. You were right all along. The Empire is the giant. And they’re about to stomp on our anthill. The best thing we can do is leave.”

  Akshaya walked over, reaching for Jyn. She framed her face in her hands, her long cool fingers slipping into Jyn’s hair. “This is our home,” she said, as if that was reason enough. She pulled Jyn closer, kissing her forehead, and then she, too, left the room.

  Jyn touched her face where Akshaya’s hand had been. She had not missed the subtle emphasis on the word our .

  And it broke her heart.

  Hadder didn’t come back in the next hour, or the hour after that. Jyn wandered into the night to find him. Skuhl was silent, the stars stretching out forever and forever over the blue-green grass wafting in the wind. The bells lining the street jingled, and the only other sounds in the dark came from the diner. When Jyn pushed the door open, the warmth, light, and noise spilled out into the peaceful street.

  It took her a moment to locate Hadder. He sat at a table in the corner, talking with a Twi’lek whose back was turned to her.

  Jyn sat down in the empty chair at the table. “Xosad,” she said, nodding to the Twi’lek, not letting on how surprised she was to see him again.

  “Ah. The infamous Jyn.”

  Hadder looked from Xosad to Jyn, a little startled, but he hid it well.

  “Infamous?” Jyn laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  “Never thought I’d see you away from Saw’s side.” Xosad’s voice was friendly, but Jyn knew that he was fishing for information. Saw was still out there, still doing missions, and she wasn’t. He wanted to know why.

  She wasn’t going to tell him. “So you’re the one encouraging people to fight the Empire.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Clearly you’ve met,” Hadder said somewhat nervously.

  “Which group are you working for?” Jyn kept her voice cool, distant. A part of her wanted him to say that he worked for Saw. Another part of her feared that answer.

  “The one Idryssa joined,” Xosad said. “It’s growing. A true alliance of fighters.”

  “Do you want some time alone?” Hadder asked. He moved to get up, but Jyn dropped a hand to his knee. He stayed sitting.

  “Why?” Jyn struggled to maintain her even tone. What she really wanted to know was if Saw had joined this alliance, too, if all her old contacts had. Had Saw found a new family under their banner?

  Xosad leaned back, choosing his words carefully. “I joined the rebellion,” he said, “because I have seen the fulcrum upon which the fate of the galaxy is balanced. And the Empire weighed heavily on one side, and only the rebels really stood against it. I figured I could help restore that balance.” He searched Jyn’s eyes. “I have seen the fulcrum ,” he said again, stressing the last word, as if it had some deeper meaning. He waited, his lips barely parted, anticipation clearly painted on his face.

  Jyn could tell that Xosad expected or at least hoped for some sort of specific response from her, but she had no idea what he wanted to hear. “Did Saw join as well?” she asked, not bothering to hide what she really wanted to know.

  Xosad’s shoulders sagged; he was disappointed by her answer. “He did some work with us, but he’s still fighting his old battles, his way.” He narrowed his gaze. “But you’re no longer fighting Saw’s battles with him,” he said. “The rebellion is growing. There’s good, solid leadership there. And people eager to join…” His eyes flicked to Hadder.

  “I can’t,” Hadder said slowly.

  Jyn looked around. The diner was loud, but it felt…wrong. “You’re not very good at being subtle,” Jyn said. Too many people were watching them but pretending not to. She stood. “Come on,” she told Hadder.

  “He’s not your lap dog, trotting after you because you whistle,” Xosad said, his voice low. He clearly had thought he’d made some headway with Hadder, then hoped to recruit Jyn as well. To watch them both dismiss him was a blow to his pride.

  “Actually,” Hadder said cheerfully, “I’m quite happy to follow her.”

  Jyn smirked at Xosad.

  “Such a shame,” the Twi’lek called loudly as they reached the door. Jyn froze. “All that training. You could kill any man in here and yet you just let yourself waste away in this provincial little—”

  Jyn didn’t let him finish. She whirled on Xosad, one hand gripping his lekku,
pulling down enough that he had to crane his neck, her thumbnail digging into the soft flesh. He flinched, but otherwise didn’t let anyone know she was hurting him. “You talk too much,” she growled. “You always did. The Empire is watching this provincial little planet, you empty-headed moof-milker, and if you think they don’t know exactly who you are and who you’re reporting to, you’re an even bigger fool than I thought.”

  She stood up, then flicked his lekku, pushing it off his shoulder. Xosad glowered at her but didn’t respond to her show of disrespect.

  Jyn stormed out of the diner, Hadder following at her heels. “You always have such interesting friends,” he commented as she stomped down the sidewalk. “It must be your pleasant personality, the way you’re constantly reaching out to new people with a smile and a laugh.”

  Jyn couldn’t help chuckling. Under the light of the three full moons, she grabbed him by his lapel, pulled him closer, and kissed him.

  “Oh, my delicate sensibilities,” Hadder muttered, his lips a breath away from hers as she rested her forehead against his. “You are quite the corrupting woman.”

  “Shut up, you,” Jyn muttered, pulling him in for another kiss, softer this time, gentle enough to let her pretend she wasn’t afraid.

  It started with stormtroopers. Their pure white-and-black uniforms shone sharply against the sleepy little town. They took over the diner. The Chagrian owner—his name, Jyn learned, was Gowayne—tried to protest the loss of his establishment, but then one day he was simply gone.

  Dasa, the owner of the refinery, was an older human woman. She and Akshaya started talking. And then more people joined. The foremen, some of the workers.

  “Please don’t let them come here,” Jyn begged. “Meet somewhere else. Let them meet. We should go. We have your ship.”

  Akshaya kissed Jyn on the forehead. “When the giant stoops down, even ants can win,” she said.

  “That makes no sense!” Jyn called after her as Akshaya went into the main room of their house, where the small group of dissenters met. “You realize that, right? That makes no sense!”

  Hadder took her out on the planet hopper so they didn’t have to be present while the refinery workers met. Jyn could tell he didn’t like doing it—the only time he ever expressed a reluctance to fly. He wanted to sit by his mother; he wanted to feel like the words they said in secret mattered.

  “The Empire thinks they can come in and just buy Dasa’s refinery for almost nothing,” Hadder growled, swiping at the long blue-green grass as he cut a swath through it. “Skuhl can’t be bought.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jyn muttered.

  “Xosad hasn’t left, you know,” Hadder said, shooting Jyn a look.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He said he had friends. He said they could help.”

  Jyn wondered what Xosad’s little rebel group was like. Idryssa had spoken of senators on their side, of larger players who could really make a difference. “I guess we’ll see,” Jyn said.

  When they flew back to town that evening, a pair of assault tanks stood on either side of the main street and a walker guarded the spaceport, its two long legs bent backward and the command viewports protruding like eyes from the armor plating. Another walker rumbled toward Akshaya’s hangar. Hadder landed the planet hopper and jumped out. Jyn stayed behind, hooking up her datapad to the mainframe of the ship’s computer. She could hear Hadder’s voice rising in volume; by the time she stepped out of the ship, he was shouting.

  “You can’t do that!” he bellowed. He caught sight of Jyn. “They say our ships are grounded.”

  “Come on,” Jyn said gently, touching Hadder’s arm.

  “If you have an issue with Imperial policy, I can take you to see my commander,” the stormtrooper said, his voice mocking.

  Hadder opened his mouth, but Jyn pressed her fingers into his arm. “Come. On,” she repeated, more firmly this time.

  He followed her. “I don’t know how you can stand to do it,” he said, hissing angrily. “You could have taken him out. I know you could. You could be fighting back.”

  He didn’t say it, but all Jyn heard was, You should be fighting back.

  They stopped outside Akshaya’s little house. Jyn stared into Hadder’s eyes, hard, trying to see the things she had lost in them. “You don’t understand,” she said finally.

  Hadder let out a huge breath, and all his anger and frustration left with it. “You’re right,” he said simply. “I don’t.”

  That night, there was no meeting.

  Dasa was gone. The foremen were gone. Imperial technicians now ran the refinery.

  “I have all the critical documents from the ship,” Jyn said, holding up her datapad. She downloaded information into two different port chips and slid one over to Akshaya. “I’ve forged clearance slips for the freighter and the planet hopper,” she continued. “It won’t be perfect, but it should enable you to at least confuse whatever blockade the Empire’s set up around Skuhl and give you a chance to escape. We’ll split up. You take the freighter; I’ll take the hopper.” The planet hopper only had a simple hyperdrive that couldn’t handle more than a small jump, and without a navicomputer she would have to input the coordinates with the port chip. Jyn was still no pilot, but she knew enough about the little ship to get where she needed to go, and she knew Akshaya would never agree to be separated from her son.

  Akshaya stared down at the chip. “They’re not gone,” she said finally. “Dasa and the others.”

  Jyn looked at Hadder, at the empty kitchen.

  “They’re not here,” Akshaya conceded, “but they’re not gone. I’m sure the Empire has them on a ship, for negotiations. Or something,” she added lamely.

  “Why are we splitting up?” Hadder asked Jyn.

  “We need to start over. It’ll be easier to do with two ships instead of one.” Jyn slid her datapad over to him, showing him the system she’d preprogrammed into the port chip, along with their forged clearance codes. The Five Points system was close enough to Skuhl for the planet hopper to handle but had no mining or refinery resources that would interest the Empire. Furthermore, the entire system was littered with space debris, forcing ships to limp along from planet to planet in a series of short and inconvenient sublight speed routes. It was the perfect place to hide. There were five inhabitable planets, but Jyn had set the coordinates to the space station in the center. They could decide where to go from there.

  Hadder took the port chip that his mother refused. He nodded at Jyn grimly.

  “Tomorrow,” Jyn said.

  “We’ll be ready,” Hadder replied, even as his mother tried to say it wouldn’t be necessary.

  Most of what Jyn needed she wore—the knife Saw had given her in her boot, the kyber crystal her mother had given her around her neck, the scarf to keep it hidden. Her satchel, stuffed with a few changes of clothes, a medkit, ration cubes. Only what she could carry.

  It was too similar to Lah’mu. All of it. The stormtroopers. The fear. It was a nightmarish repetition of when her first family, her last home was taken away.

  She planned to leave at dawn.

  She hadn’t planned on the stormtroopers attacking at midnight.

  The door was kicked in. Jyn, already dressed, scrambled up. She cracked open her bedroom door.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Akshaya cried, running forward. Hadder followed.

  “We have reports that you are harboring a person of interest to the Empire,” the stormtrooper said, his voice ringing.

  “Are you saying my son is of interest to the Empire?” Akshaya asked, drawing Hadder closer to her.

  “Someone of the name Jyn, last name unknown. Possible ties to a terrorist cell.”

  Jyn gently closed the door of her room. The only window was set high in the wall, and narrow, but she could squeeze through it. Akshaya was buying her time. She heard Hadder and Akshaya arguing with the stormtroopers, but before she was all the way out the wind
ow, she also heard the sound of smashing furniture and more doors being broken down.

  Jyn threw herself out of the narrow window, landing on the ground outside with a thud. She sucked in her breath but didn’t make another sound. Stormtroopers were patrolling the perimeter of Akshaya’s house and the hangar.

  Through the open window, Jyn heard a stormtrooper reporting in. “She was here.”

  Jyn crouched under the window. How much did they know? It must have been Xosad. He had been so obvious that he was recruiting for an anti-Imperial group. And his little outburst as she left—definitely overheard. Maybe they thought she was working with him and his freedom fighters.

  Or maybe they knew….

  She clutched her kyber crystal necklace through her shirt. They didn’t know. They couldn’t.

  She heard footsteps—heavy, armored footsteps—making their way around the house.

  No time to think. No time for regrets. She couldn’t just sit and wait to be found. There was no Saw to save her this time.

  Jyn leapt up and darted through the long grass toward the hangar. The walker was still positioned near the entrance, but it was powered down and, Jyn hoped, empty. She ran through its legs, making straight for the door.

  “Hey! Stop!” a stormtrooper shouted.

  Blaster fire marred the door seconds after Jyn dove through it. So much for reaching the ship unnoticed.

  Jyn hoped Akshaya and Hadder would take the opportunity she was about to give them. And she hoped whoever controlled the walker was still asleep.

  The hangar door burst open as Jyn dashed up the gangway of the planet hopper. She yanked the port chip out of her pocket, then initiated the launch sequence of the ship. Blaster fire scarred the boarding ramp as she raised it. Jyn flicked on the rocket boosters, spraying fire. She couldn’t hear the screams of the stormtroopers that had been rushing her, but she imagined them being cut short by the blasts.

  Jyn didn’t bother turning the planet hopper around. It had minimal charges that could be used to break up asteroids; Jyn fired them straight into the hangar wall, clearing a hole through the building. She rode high and hard, heading straight into the sky.