“Sounds lovely,” Shriv quipped. “Who suggested we come here, again?”
“You did,” Zay said.
“That’s right.” He sighed dramatically. Waved a hand over his shoulder without turning. “Okay, Pacer, you’re up. Riggers, Hazmats, all that. Run everyone through it again.”
The young pilot hadn’t spoken since their earlier disagreement, but he didn’t seem to be radiating frustration like he had earlier. Shriv guessed that Pacer was the kind of kid who walked around looking for a fight, a chance to prove he was just as big and bad as the larger people around him. Shriv knew the type, may have been the type himself once upon a time. He figured the trick was to give Pacer enough room to prove himself and maybe the kid would settle down. In their flight through hyperspace, he’d already been thinking about how that would all go down, but he wanted to see what the boy had to offer them first.
Pacer leaned in between Shriv and Zay.
“Bracca is run by the Scrapper Guild,” Pacer explained. “My big sister joined up a year or so back. She told me all about it last time she was home. The guild is divided into Riggers, Hazmats, and Cutters. Different jobs for different kinds of people. She also told me about the Ibdis Maw and the decommissioned New Republic ships it eats.”
“She tell you how we can steal a few ships?”
“No, but she said the work is hard, though the pay is good.”
“Great, maybe we’ll all join up if we survive this.” Shriv was only halfway joking.
“My sister is a Rigger,” Pacer continued like he didn’t hear him. “She said they’re always looking for new recruits.”
“So what exactly is a Rigger?” Zay asked.
“Demolition and salvage in hard-to-reach locations. Climbers, mostly. Daredevil work.”
“Cool.”
“Will she help us?” Wesson asked.
Pacer nodded confidently. “She hates the First Order as much as I do.”
“Good enough for me,” Shriv said.
He spoke over his shoulder, pitching his voice to address the rest of the team. “Remember, we don’t need martyrs on this mission. We need live bodies to fly these ships home. So if we’re caught, our cover is that we’re an unsavory lot of junk traders looking to score a few New Republic ships. We are not the sad remnants of the Resistance known as Dross Squadron.”
Silence. Finally Stronghammer spoke. “You’re a strange man, Shriv Suurgav.”
“Strange doesn’t cover it,” Raidah murmured.
Shriv touched a finger to his temple in a salute. “I aim to please.”
“We’re being hailed,” Zay said. “By the guild.”
Shriv turned his full attention back to the front of the ship. “Okay, Dross Squadron, buckle up. Here we go.”
“SO WHAT’S THE STORY on Leia’s friend, Senator Casterfo?” Norra asked as they loaded their bags into the shuttle craft. It was an old Imperial model that belonged to Teza Nasz and had carried her to Ryloth from Rattatak.
“Leia said that he had been framed by some paramilitary terrorist group, the seeds of the First Order, a few years ago.”
“That seems strange. Is she sure this is the same guy?”
Wedge shrugged. He motioned for Norra to hand him the crate of supplies closest to her and she did. He took it, tucking it under the seats in the back of the cargo hold. “She admitted it’s a wild guess. But he has the same initials, and the list called him a senator. How many senators can there be with the same name?”
“Depends,” Snap said as he sauntered up the ramp. “Is it a popular name on…what did she say was his home planet?”
“Riosa,” Karé filled in.
“Right.” Snap gave his wife a smile. “Just seems unlikely that he’s been in prison all this time, hidden away. Especially with a list of crimes like that.”
“Not that strange,” Teza chimed in. She was stretched out on a long bench in the cargo area, eyes closed. “You kill people, you run the risk of making them martyrs. But you imprison them for life, let them grow old and feeble, drive them insane with your well-concealed tortures, and then trot them out for public consumption every so often.” She folded her hands over her stomach, eyes still shut. “It’s much more effective. No one follows a martyr out of pity.”
They all paused for a moment, staring. The ex-Imperial cracked one eye open. “What?”
“Are you sure she has to come?” Snap asked.
“It’s her ship,” Wedge said.
“And you’ll need me to get through First Order security.”
“I can get us through,” Norra countered.
Teza rolled over onto her side and met Norra’s gaze. “You’ll need me if you want to sneak in and avoid bloodshed. If my idea doesn’t work, then by all means we’ll shoot our way through.”
Norra raised her hands briefly in surrender before continuing to pack.
“And they called me a barbarian warlord,” Teza murmured.
Wedge sighed. He wasn’t thrilled about bringing Teza along, but she did have a point about both the ship and her knowledge of the security systems they could expect once they hit Coronet City. He knew they needed a shuttle that could carry Casterfo and any other prisoners they found, and leaving it to chance to steal one was too risky. But he sure did wish they had Snap and Karé in their starfighters backing them up. If he was honest, he wouldn’t mind flying something a little faster and a little sleeker himself.
“We got everything?” he asked.
Affirmative answers from the two Wexleys and a silence from Teza that he took as a yes. He dropped the jumpseat down and strapped in. He was mission leader, but he’d given the captain’s chair to Snap. Teza pushed herself to her feet and slouched toward the cockpit. She leaned down to talk to Snap. Wedge couldn’t follow the details of their conversation, but as long as she was on their side, he would let Snap handle it. Norra dropped into the seat next to him, buckling her own restraints. Her eyes were bright, and she grinned.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” she asked. “To be doing something again.”
He nodded tightly. His stomach was in knots. Not because of the danger of sneaking through First Order lines; he’d done much the same a hundred times as part of the Rebellion. And not because Leia was counting on him to rescue her friend and return him safely to her. But because he was headed home.
Wedge hadn’t been back to Coronet City since he was a teenager. After a string of odd jobs, he’d gotten a gig flying cargo ships out of the busy port. That lasted until the Empire recruited him to Skystrike Academy. It had been a dream come true. But dreams have a way of turning into nightmares, and his was no different. When Sabine Wren had showed up to help him defect to the Rebellion, he had been more than ready to go.
The ensuing decades seemed to have gone too quickly. So many friends lost, so much ground gained and then lost to his enemies, and through all of it he had never gone home, back to Coronet City. Well, he was going now. He only hoped his first trip home in all these years wouldn’t also be his last.
POE FOUND FINN SITTING on his bunk in the Millennium Falcon deep in conversation with Rey. Their heads centimeters from each other, knees touching side by side. Rey was speaking in a hurried whisper, shoulders tense, her whole demeanor focused. Poe was torn between not wanting to interrupt and being tempted to listen in. Not that he wanted to eavesdrop. He just felt at a disadvantage around Rey. He still didn’t know her well and she clearly meant a lot to Finn, and Finn meant a lot to him, so Rey mattered. But she was private, cagey almost, and so far she had not been willing to open up to him. Spying seemed like a logical solution. How else was he going to get to know her? Even so, he wasn’t that much of a jerk.
He cleared his throat loudly. “Sorry to interrupt.”
The two jumped apart. Rey’s ever-present staff had been resting against the bed, and her sudden m
ovement sent it careening toward the metal floor. She reached for it before it could hit, reflexes lightning-fast. Poe whistled low in appreciation. She flushed, embarrassed.
“I should go,” she said as she stood, staff in hand.
“Rey…” Finn started, but she was already pressing past Poe, who moved out of her way with a murmured apology. She was gone before Finn could finish his plea.
“Sorry,” Poe said. “I wouldn’t have interrupted if it wasn’t important.”
Finn leaned forward, resting his arms across his knees. He looked distracted, worried. Whatever they had been talking about, it had been serious.
“If you need to go find her, finish the conversation…”
“No.” Finn gave a little shake of his head, as if clearing it. “It’s fine. Rey will work it out on her own. She’s smart like that.”
“I have no doubts.” Poe hesitated before he asked, “So the two of you aren’t…”
Finn looked puzzled at first, but then his expression shifted to amusement. “No, nothing like that. Just friends.”
“And Rose?”
“Oh.” Finn shook his head no. “We talked about it, and Crait was…a moment. But that’s it. Friends there, too.”
Poe laughed. “I can’t keep up with your ‘just friends,’ man.”
Finn flushed, rubbing self-consciously at his neck. “I know. It’s been a lot. But never mind all that. I know you didn’t come to talk about my love life, or lack of one. So what is it that couldn’t wait?”
“You heard that Leia wants me to go get that political prisoners list?”
“The auction in Coronet City,” Finn confirmed. “Going undercover to sneak into some mysterious thief’s private party.”
Poe grinned. “That’s right. I have room for one more on the invitation.”
Finn tilted his head. “Oh yeah?”
“I want that to be you.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Finn held up a hand, eyes narrowed. “You want me to go with you to an occupied city and pretend to be some crime lord at an underworld auction so we can steal a list of the First Order’s top-secret most wanted? A list the First Order and a number of unsavory sketchy types would happily kill us for if they knew we had it?”
Poe hesitated. He had been sure that Finn would be up for it. “What? That doesn’t sound like fun to you?”
“Hell, yes, that sounds like fun. I’ll do it!” Finn said, clapping his hands together and laughing. “Anything to get me off this planet for a while. I mean, I am dedicated to the Resistance.” He pressed an open palm over his heart. “Dedicated! But I’m crawling out of my skin with counting supplies and tallying rations and fuel and…” He shuddered dramatically. “I thought sanitation work on Starkiller Base was dull. This making lists and counting stuff edges out mopping up after muddy combat units by a kilometer.”
Poe grinned. “Glad to hear you’re in.” He offered his hand and Finn shook it with enthusiasm. “We’ll leave in an hour, once Charth has the ship ready.”
“Who’s he bringing?”
“Not sure yet, but we should go find out.”
Finn rummaged around under his bunk and pulled out a bag. “I don’t need an hour. I’m ready to go.”
Poe shook his head, amused. “Do you stay packed like that?”
Finn paused before he answered. “Force of habit, I guess,” he said, voice somber. “Never had a home before, and it wasn’t unusual to get reassigned. You always had to be ready to leave a place. To leave your friends.”
Poe pressed a sympathetic hand against Finn’s arm. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I know it must have been rough.”
Finn shrugged. “I didn’t know any different then.” His eyes rested on Poe’s, and the commander held his gaze, unblinking. Finn’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t even have a name.”
Poe squeezed the younger man’s shoulder.
“But you’ve got both now,” he said. “A name, and friends. And maybe a place to unpack before long.”
Finn stood up. He embraced Poe briefly. Emotion passed between them that neither needed to articulate. Finn returned the slap on the shoulder, and the two headed out of the Millennium Falcon.
* * *
—
“Hey,” Poe said, as they made their way across the hangar to Charth’s ship. “I know you said Rey had it under control, but is everything okay? With Rey? That conversation looked serious.”
Finn’s brow furrowed in thought. “She’s gone to talk to Leia about it. She didn’t want to burden her, but I told her Leia needed to know.”
“Whoa,” Poe said, hand grasping Finn’s arm and bringing him to a stop. “Is there something I should know, too? If Leia’s in danger…”
“Rey will handle it,” Finn said. He sounded confident, assured. Poe wasn’t convinced. But what choice did he have? Leia had always managed to take care of herself. She didn’t need Poe to be her bodyguard. And Rey was formidable. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Leia.
Finn started walking again, and Poe double-stepped to catch up.
“What’s the plan?” Finn asked.
Poe could feel the anticipation building. He wasn’t much for undercover work, but he was glad to be doing something. And part of him wanted to see Coronet City and the famed shipyards of what had once been Corellian Engineering Corporation. He knew now the legendary shipbuilders were under the First Order’s thumb, but occupation or not, Corellia still built some of the greatest ships in the galaxy. And if he and his team happened to liberate one or two for the return trip? Well, hadn’t they just determined that the Resistance needed ships?
“The plan is that we find Charth and his teammate and then we get our asses down to Coronet City.”
* * *
—
“Suralinda?” Poe asked, again.
Charth nodded. He was dressed in a deep shade of blue, the fabric rich and expensive looking. He wore a cape over a matching shirt and pants, with a black-and-gold coronet around the base of his lekku that was similar to the one Yendor always wore. Poe wasn’t sure what it meant, but it must signify rank of some kind. The RDA insignia had been replaced by the official Ryloth emblem..
“Is that a problem?” the ambassador asked. “I thought you would appreciate me bringing another member of Black Squadron. I considered my sister, but if something were to happen to us, I wouldn’t want my father to lose both his children.” He said it matter-of-factly, but Poe could read the tension in the set of his jaw, the way his lekku seemed unnaturally still, like he was trying very hard not to give any emotion away.
“Of course,” Poe said, reassuringly. “She’s a great choice. It was just a surprise. I didn’t know you were acquainted.”
Poe had never seen Charth smile before but he did now. “She’s quite something. Fierce. A warrior. She could almost be a Twi’lek.”
“High praise,” Poe said. “I’m sure she would appreciate it.”
“Appreciate what?”
They both turned to see Suralinda approaching. She had changed out of her pilot’s uniform and wore, of all things, a dress. The dress was formfitting until it hit the ground, where it cascaded across the floor in a puddle of bright-purple silk, only a shade off from Charth’s skin.
“Where did you get that?” Poe asked before he could stop himself.
“Yendor gave it to me. There’s a whole wing of historical clothing here. Do I look like an ambassador’s girlfriend?” She struck a pose, hand on her hip. In her other hand she carried more clothing. Suits on a hanger, wrapped in translucent sheeting.
“I was thinking you would be my attaché,” Charth demurred. Poe wasn’t sure that Twi’leks blushed, but if they did, Charth was definitely blushing.
“Oh.” Suralinda shrugged, unconcerned. “Whatever works, as long as I get to wear the dress
.” She dragged the hangers with the clothes over her shoulder. Slapped them against Poe’s chest. He instinctively clutched them to his body.
“Got something for you and Finn, too,” she said with a mischievous grin.
“What are you talking about? And how did you know Finn was coming? I just invited him.”
“Lucky guess,” she said, the grin on her face growing wider. “Anyway, the clothes from the historical clothing collection are here. Maz said you needed to look dapper, so I brought you dapper.”
Poe sniffed at the garments suspiciously before holding them out at arm’s length for inspection.
“The clothes are not going to hurt you, Poe.” She rolled her eyes toward the stars.
“I know that,” he said, defensively. “It’s just—”
“We’re all set!” Finn said, walking briskly toward them. “Connix transmitted the confirmations and the money for our buy-ins. We have cover stories, too. You,” Finn continued, looking at Poe, “are Lorell Shda, notorious weapons dealer who wants that list to free some old brothers-in-arms who were caught up in the First Order sweeps of your home planet. I am your business partner, Kade Genti, who—”
Poe laughed. “Really? That’s your name?”
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s a bit…”
“A bit what?”
“Kade Genti, Master of Section Nine!” Suralinda exclaimed.
“Who?” Charth asked.
“A program on the entertainment feeds when we were kids. Well, when I was a kid, at least. That is where you got it, right?”
Finn looked sheepish. “Connix asked, and I had to think fast. I remembered the comics from when I was a kid. FN-1971 would sneak them in. They weren’t regulation, and they would have sent us to reprogramming if they’d known, but man, were they great.” He frowned. “Do you think anyone will notice?”
“That your name is the same as a dashing cartoon character from Coruscant?” Suralinda shrugged. “Who cares? Half the people there will be using aliases. Might as well pick a great one.”
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