“What’d you do?” she asked.
“I’m not really sure, if you must know.”
Zorii shook her head.
“Should’ve handled that myself,” she said. “You’re a pilot, not a slicer.”
“Hey, I got it to work, didn’t I?” Poe said as Zorii cautiously walked down the hall, blaster drawn.
“What? That’s it?” Poe continued as he caught up to her.
They’d reached an intersection. There were no signs of life. The halls echoed with their light footsteps. Is there anyone else on this ship? Poe wondered.
“Can you just be quiet for a minute?” Zorii hissed as she looked left, then right. “I’m trying to figure out where we are—and how to get to the bridge.”
“What is it we’re after, Zorii?” Poe asked, his energy levels waning. The rush and scramble to get on the cruiser and through the phalanx of droids had worn him out. “Ledesmar has something the Spice Runners want, right? It isn’t just about knocking out a competitor. I mean, why risk so much for that?”
Zorii didn’t respond, instead going farther down the hall, motioning for him to follow. Before Poe could reach her, he stopped—she’d raised her hand in alarm. She pointed to her ear. He heard something, too—a soft clanking. Had one of the cloaked droids made it through already? He doubted they were built for stealth.
“What is it?” Poe asked.
Zorii pointed down the hall. There, about midway, Poe noticed an EV-class droid leaning on the far wall at an awkward angle, its long legs buckling under its body.
“Well, it can only get better,” the droid said to herself, her voice melodic and oddly cheerful.
Poe and Zorii shared a bemused look.
Poe grabbed his blaster and started down the hall, ignoring Zorii’s whispered pleas to wait, which were followed by a string of curses Poe hadn’t thought she knew.
“Hey, you all right?” Poe asked.
The droid looked up, her movements eager and quick.
“Hello, new friend,” she said. “How did you find your way on this cruiser?”
“Look, I don’t have time for a full download, but it seems like you need help,” Poe said. “What’s your, uh, name? Is that it?”
“I am Eevee-Sixbeesix,” the droid said, taking Poe’s offered hand and slowly getting to her feet. “I’m doing well, all things considered. Though I am overdue for a systems check.”
Poe wasn’t keen on droids. They weirded him out. He liked people. Living beings with personalities and foibles. Droids were just—odd. Poe hadn’t had much chance to interact with droids back on Yavin 4, but he thought he had an idea what they were like. This droid was different, though. Almost…happy?
Even this brief exchange was giving him the creeps. But if this droid knew how to get them to Ledesmar, then it would be worth it.
“Sure, I get it.” Poe heard Zorii approaching behind him. “We need to find the bridge on this ship. Can you take us there?”
“I’d be happy to,” EV-6B6 said. “But you should be careful. This is a Moraysian cruiser, you know. Some very bad stuff has been happening here lately, and it’s really starting to make me reconsider—”
“Find a friend?” Zorii said. She wasn’t joking. Her movements were jittery. She didn’t like that they’d stopped in the hallway.
“Where is everyone on the ship?” Poe asked the droid, who’d managed to take a few hesitant steps down the hall. “Anyone else on board?”
“Yes, yes, plenty of people,” EV-6B6 said. “Well, at least one. I hate to be negative, but she’s not very nice. She’s ensconced herself on the bridge. She seemed really upset at the people who owned the ship before. It was kind of violent and—”
“Ledesmar?” Zorii asked. “Can you take us to her?”
“I suppose so, but it might lead to a fight,” the droid said. “And you both seem really nice, so I’m not sure I’d want you to get hurt—”
Poe gripped the droid by the shoulders.
“Listen, Eevee, buddy, it’s been nice meeting you, but we’re not joining a cult together just yet,” Poe said. “We need to find Ledesmar. Fast. We have a handful of angry, violent droids waiting for us on the other side of that hangar door we’d like to avoid. So any help you can offer would be much appreciated, whether you want to give it to us or not.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” EV-6B6 said, “I guess I don’t have much choice. Follow me.”
With that, the droid spun around and began to make her way down the hall at a brisk pace. Zorii and Poe followed not far behind.
“You think she’s running the entire ship alone?” Zorii asked as they continued to follow EV-6B6 farther down the winding hallway. “How is that even possible?”
“Think about it, Zee,” Poe said. “Those ships were moving in an automated fashion—they were responding to what we did, but not in the way human pilots do. They didn’t adapt or react in time.”
“Huh,” she grunted. “So that’s why you were able to pull that trick off. They were heading for the Claw but had no idea what you might do—mostly because it was unpredictable.”
“Right,” Poe said with a nod, a bit unsure if Zorii was complimenting or insulting him. “And even after we got off the ship—we haven’t seen another life-form. It’s all automated.”
“This way,” EV-6B6 said with a wave. “My guess is she’ll be upset, so you may want to draw your weapons just in case.”
“Wait,” Zorii said. “What’s your story, droid? Why are you so keen to help us?”
“Well, helping is what I do,” EV-6B6 said, her robotic expression pensive, though Poe could have sworn the mech was giving off an air of joy. “And this Zabrak woman, Ledesmar, hasn’t been very nice to me. You have. My masters are gone. The people I knew on this ship are gone. It makes sense to help and be appreciated.”
“Who was on this ship before?” Poe asked, stepping closer to the droid. “A full complement?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” EV-6B6 said, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. “My masters were thieves, criminals—members of the Pyke organization. I guess they have a bad reputation, but they treated me well. Ledesmar stole this cruiser and its assortment of ships and eliminated the repair crew. It was not nice.”
“So you’re a droid that belonged to thieves?” Zorii said, raising an eyebrow slowly.
“Yes, and I feel very unhappy that things have to go this way,” EV-6B6 said. It took Poe a second to realize what was going on. Then the doors on either side of the hallway opened and a squadron of the cloaked droids—armed with large blaster rifles—appeared. “I meant what I said. You both seem very nice. My story was true, but being the property of a thief, you learn the tricks of the scoundrel trade—including double crosses. My sincere apologies.”
“Follow us if you want to live,” the central droid said, motioning with its weapon.
“Droids,” Poe muttered to Zorii. “I should’ve known. You can’t trust these walking junk heaps.”
“Shut up and get that brain of yours thinking,” Zorii snapped back. “This isn’t some Yavin Four swamp race you’re losing—it’s your life.”
The enforcer droids led them onto a turbolift. A few boarded with them, leaving EV and the remaining droids behind. The one who’d spoken to them tapped a few buttons, and the lift shunted downward.
“What do you guys do for fun around here?” Poe asked.
None of the droids responded. In a few moments, the lift came to a stop and opened onto a sprawling bridge—that was completely barren of people. A few RX-series droids manned the essential stations, from what Poe could tell—the helm, a security terminal, and perhaps a general systems area. But it was as bare-bones as a ship of this size and class could get—probably risky considering the sheer number of things that could go wrong with a ship that was, in essence, a floating city.
At the center of the bridge, though, was a living person: a tall Zabrak woman draped in a flowing red cloak, her pale forehead framed by smallish horn
s above and around it. Designs decorated her face and visible skin. She wielded a long spearlike weapon with blades on each end. Zhaboka, Poe thought. His father had told him plenty of stories from his time out in space, one of them involving a Zabrak who claimed to be a Jedi, but Kes had never been sure. The zhaboka was a traditional Zabrak weapon, Poe knew. And it was deadly as hell.
Ledesmar stepped toward them with an air of confidence and ease. She was not threatened. In fact, based on her expression, Poe thought she was amused.
“This is what the famed Spice Runners of Kijimi have to offer me in terms of resistance?” Ledesmar said. “Two children? So trusting, you’d follow a droid into the mouth of the nexu?”
Ledesmar got closer, scanning Poe quickly but lingering over Zorii—her demeanor shifting from calm to slight concern.
“Could it be?” she said, squinting as if trying to see past Zorii. “How did you get here?”
“I should ask you the same thing,” Zorii said. “You have something that belongs to us.”
There it was, Poe thought. The real reason they were there. But why had Vigilch and his own teammates refused to clue him in on what it was? Did they not trust him yet? Probably not, and Poe understood—but it stung all the same.
“Do I?” Ledesmar said with a shrug as she continued to walk around them, the droids stepping back to allow her free rein. “That’s funny, because I don’t own much beyond this ship—which I stole myself, from the very people who enslaved me for most of my life—the Pykes, who, as far as I know, are sworn enemies of your people. Tell me, dear one, what is it you think I owe you, or the Spice Runners?”
Zorii gritted her teeth. Before she could say anything, a large boom caught the group off guard.
Poe, Zorii, Ledesmar, and the droids turned to face the explosion, which enveloped the far side of the bridge, smoke and flames growing quickly. Ledesmar raised a hand, warding off the droids.
A few moments passed, and three shadowy figures emerged from the wreckage. Vigilch, bruised and battered, a large gash across his already scarred face, and Marinda Gan and Gen Tri not far behind, looking about as bad. Marinda limped behind their leader, and Gen Tri’s walk, which usually seemed more like floating, was stilted and awkward. They were messed up, Poe thought, but he’d never been happier to see them.
“Ah, the rest of your little crew,” Ledesmar said with a sneer. “That makes things easier.”
She leapt forward, and her speed took Poe off guard. Before he could register her movements, she’d sent the end of her weapon into Vigilch’s midsection, causing the Klatooinian to bend forward and release a piercing, pain-drenched groan. She pulled the zhaboka out carelessly, sure to make the exit of the weapon as painful as the entrance. Vigilch folded into himself as he collapsed to the floor. Gen Tri and Marinda Gan seemed taken aback and stepped away from Ledesmar to regroup. But it was too late.
Poe realized they weren’t the only ones entranced by the Zabrak murderer—the droids had shifted their focus to Ledesmar, their master, and were ignoring Zorii and Poe, whom they’d not bothered to disarm or bind in any way. Poe gripped his blaster and sent a few quick shots toward the combatants. One missed completely, but the other nailed Ledesmar’s right leg mid-leap, sending the athletic thief twisting down a short flight of stairs and onto a lower level of the bridge, clutching the wounded limb.
It had bought them maybe five seconds, but it was enough time for Gen Tri and Marinda Gan to scatter, and for Poe and Zorii to take cover behind the ship’s main navigation terminal—by design.
“They can’t get too blaster-happy now,” Zorii said. “They’ll only hurt themselves by destroying the ship’s controls. Even droids know that.”
“They’re mine,” Ledesmar said, her voice booming from across the bridge. She wasn’t talking about Marinda and Gen Tri, Poe knew. He watched as she leapt toward them, her agile body somersaulting over chairs and terminals to reach the far end of the bridge, where Zorii and Poe stood—blasters at the ready. They were both in a state of shock, not expecting Ledesmar to recover so quickly or to be able to reach them with such ease.
She swung the zhaboka as if it was an extra limb and knocked the blasters out of their hands in one precise motion, leaving Poe staring at his empty hand for a moment. A moment too long, he would soon learn.
He heard Zorii’s angry scream before his pained one as the blade of Ledesmar’s weapon slashed at his side, gouging deep. The blood came fast, and he crumpled to the floor, clutching his midsection. He tried not to look at the wound, but he couldn’t help it—it was deep, the dark red blood already seeping through his clothing and covering the area, the pain and mess of it all spreading fast.
“Achhkk!” Poe grimaced as he rocked on the floor, waiting for Ledesmar to stand over him, weapon poised and ready to slam through his skull. His body was gripped by fear of a looming darkness—amplified by the blinding pain he felt in his side, which was quickly spreading all over him. He reached for the wound, immediately regretting the move. He looked down to see his hand coated in blood. His blood.
But his vision of Ledesmar finishing him off never came to be. Instead Poe’s ears were shaken by another anger-fueled, bloodcurdling sound. It was Zorii again, but this scream wasn’t laced with shock; it seemed to come from the base of her very soul—from a pure, animalistic hatred Poe would never have guessed her capable of.
He lifted his head slightly and saw the two figures sparring—Zorii had somehow knocked the spear from Ledesmar’s grip, and the two were now clenched in hand-to-hand combat, Zorii pushing back on the Zabrak, her eyes fiery with rage. Ledesmar was momentarily caught off guard. Poe tried to get up, but an explosion of pain in his side sent him back down, doubled over.
“Your droids won’t save you now,” Zorii said through a clenched jaw as she continued to press her advantage over Ledesmar. “Give me what we came here for.”
“You’ve confused a momentary surprise with an advantage, little one,” the Zabrak said, her knee pistoning upward and connecting with Zorii’s chin, leaving her bloodied and disoriented for a moment. It was all Ledesmar needed. She sent two quick punches to Zorii’s face, and she was down, arms up, like a fighter desperate to avoid the finishing blow.
Poe tried to reach for her, but he couldn’t control his body, the pain enveloping him more tightly with each passing second. Was this the end of his story? A runaway child of the Rebellion, killed in the midst of some galactic gang war? Did he even know what he was fighting for?
No, but he did know who he was fighting for. He moved his leg and felt something at his left heel. The zhaboka. The weapon’s long staff was tucked under Poe’s boot. He lifted his head and saw Ledesmar standing over Zorii, who seemed on the brink of losing consciousness. He’d only have one chance.
The kick was strong and focused. Poe sent the weapon spinning in Zorii’s direction. But it seemed hopeless, and Poe half expected to hear it rattle off the wrong way, based on how their luck had been playing out. He saw darkness on the edge of his vision, a blackness he knew wasn’t sleep, though it beckoned to him like a warm, uninterrupted nap. He didn’t hear the clanging of the weapon’s blade as it rattled down the stairs. Didn’t hear Ledesmar’s laugh as she noticed Poe’s feeble attempt to save his friend. Instead, he heard a thick, almost squishy shunk, followed by a watery rasp and Ledesmar’s final words:
“This…this wasn’t…the deal.”
Then she fell to the ground, impaled by her own weapon. Zorii Wynn stood over her, not a drop of emotion on her blood-spattered face.
“He appears to be waking up.”
“He’d better—for your sake,” Zorii said as she stood over the droid who’d betrayed them.
“Well, we’re in luck—I have some medical programming in my databanks,” EV-6B6 said, backing away from Poe, who’d been laid out on the bridge’s upper level. “Your wound has been sealed and I’ve stopped the bleeding. It appears Ledesmar didn’t cause any permanent damage. It seems like it’s your luc
ky day, Poe Dameron.”
Zorii, Gen Tri, and Marinda Gan stood nearby as the droid finished patching him up. Poe could see Ledesmar’s lifeless body in the background, and a cold sweat overtook him. He knew it wasn’t a side effect of whatever the droid had done to revive him.
“How do you feel?” Marinda asked him, genuine concern on her face. She placed a cold hand on his cheek.
“I’m…I’m not sure,” Poe said. He tried to get up and instantly regretted it. The pain in his side had lessened, but it was still there. Whatever the droid had done to him only softened it. He winced as he sat up. Zorii sat down next to him, her hands on his shoulders.
“Slow down,” she said. “We almost lost you there.”
“No such luck,” Poe said, his expression a mix of forced humor and sharp pain. “Not yet, at least. What happened to Ledesmar’s droids?”
“We silenced them,” Gen Tri said, back to their usual ghostlike demeanor. They were a few paces away from the group and turned to survey the bridge. “That’s how we found this droid—who seemed to be the only remnant of the previous crew.”
“That is correct, my new masters,” EV-6B6 said, nodding dutifully. “Not everything I relayed to you was a lie, despite my ultimate betrayal. Which, I may add, was born of necessity, not any dislike for you.”
Poe got to his feet—gingerly, each movement clouded with the threat of more pain. But as he stood, he felt better, and he took a few hesitant steps onto the main bridge.
“Whatever you pumped into me, Eevee, it seems to be working,” Poe said. “Guess not all droids are bad, even if you did give us up to Ledesmar.”
“It was a decision I swiftly came to regret, Master Dameron,” EV-6B6 said with a curt nod as she began to pack a small kit of medical supplies. “I do hope you come to understand, and forgive me.”
Zorii approached Poe, a hand on his arm, her eyes focused and clear.
“You’re very lucky, Poe,” she said. “That was too close.”
Poe nodded. No quips this time. She was right. But he did have a question.
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