The Rise of the Empire: Star Wars: Featuring the novels Star Wars: Tarkin, Star Wars: A New Dawn, and 3 all-new short stories

by John Jackson Miller

  Kanan nodded. “I guess he couldn’t live without Lal.”

  “He wanted justice,” Hera said in a soft voice, staring at the wall. “But expecting the Empire to prosecute one of its own is—”

  “Dumb?” Skelly said, looking abruptly at her.

  Hera shook her head. “I was going to say, something we have a right to expect. Which is why people are having second thoughts about the Empire. It’s not here to help you. It only exists to help itself.”

  “Boy, that’s right,” Skelly said, rubbing his forehead. “I sure got that Vidian wrong.”

  Kanan thought that was a whole different subject—and that the time for talking was past. The thing now was to get moving, before the Empire put search vessels into the air. “Come on,” he said to her. “We’re not far from The Asteroid Belt. We can decide what to do from there.”

  She didn’t respond. Reaching for her arm, he waved to Skelly. “You wanted the hoverbus, Skelly? Keep it. We’re gone.”

  “Wait,” Hera said. “You’re just going to leave him?”

  “Wrong. We’re just going to leave him, if you’re smart. I don’t think anyone saw you and me clearly at the spaceport, but everybody saw him. And that woman and her surveillance firm—their cams are all over the city. How long do you really want to hang around here?”

  Hera frowned. “But he’s injured.”

  “Which he did to himself.” Kanan looked her in the eye. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish, but whatever it is, this guy isn’t going to help you.”

  She looked at him for several seconds. For a moment, Kanan thought she was going to make a decision.

  And then he heard the thumping.

  It was amidships, coming from the closet-sized restroom compartment. The door frame had bent slightly as a result of the day’s damage to the hoverbus, and a sliver of an opening had appeared. As he approached, the pounding grew louder.

  “I know we’re in a dump,” Skelly said, “but that’s the biggest rodent I’ve ever heard.”

  Puzzled, Kanan walked to the rear and located a pry bar. Hera and Skelly gathered near the door as he returned. “This door always jams,” Kanan said. “And locks itself, and worse. Okadiah spent his summer vacation in there once.” He shoved the bar edge into the aperture and pushed. Something snapped.

  The door popped open—and a very tired Sullustan fell out.

  “Zaluna?”

  Zaluna Myder rolled on the floor, gasping and clutching her bag. “Air! Air!” She looked frazzled. She was wearing the same dark clothing from the night before, Kanan saw.

  Skelly looked at her in wonder. “Were you in there all this time?”

  “Through the bashing and the blasting,” she said, her throat dry. “The silly door’s too thick—you couldn’t hear me!” Zaluna looked up at Hera and Kanan with relieved recognition. Then her eyes fixed on Skelly. “You!”

  Skelly looked confused as the woman recoiled, sliding backward on the aisle floor. “What’s the deal? I don’t know you. How do you know me?”

  “You’re the bomber,” Zaluna said, big eyes growing improbably wider. “I ran the surveillance cam that got you arrested.”

  Skelly blinked. “You what?” Realizing what she’d said, he rocked forward on his seat toward her. “You what?”

  Zaluna fished in her bag and pulled out her blaster. “Keep him away from me.”

  Kanan slapped his hands on Skelly’s shoulder and pushed him back. “He’s not going to hurt you. He has Beatings One through Seven coming from me, first.”

  “Three through seven,” Skelly said. “Vidian got me first. And you gave me Beating Number One back on the moon yesterday.” He glared at Zaluna. “Did you see that, too?”

  “Yes,” Zaluna said, looking down. “I don’t think Kanan should have hit you.”

  “Thanks,” Kanan said. He shrugged to Hera. “See what I get for helping?”

  Zaluna put her blaster away. Hera stepped over to help her up into a seat. She looked back into the cramped compartment. “You’ve been in there how long?”

  “Since last night, when we saw Skelly come into the cantina,” Zaluna said, struggling to get to her feet. “The stormtroopers were outside. I was looking for someplace to hide, and the bus was there. But I got stuck. I couldn’t get a signal out—and the door’s so thick you couldn’t hear me.”

  Kanan chuckled and shook his head. “All the bombs going off, all the people shooting at us—and you were right there!”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it.” She looked to Hera. “We’ll have to discuss Hetto’s data cube later. I’ve got to get home. I’ve missed work!”

  Hera looked at Kanan with concern. “Zaluna, I don’t know that you should go home, or back to work.” Hera shook her head gently. “The Empire’s not just looking for Skelly anymore. They’re after this vehicle, and probably us, too—we don’t know. And until we know what they think about you, it’s not safe for you to go back.”

  Zaluna looked bereft. “I really stepped in something, didn’t I?”

  “It’s not mud,” Kanan said.

  The Sullustan closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. After a moment, she opened them again—seeming almost at peace. “All right. I’ve been thirty-some years on one side of the cams. It won’t hurt me to know what it’s like on the other side.” Seconds later, she was climbing atop her seat, stretching for the domed light fixture in the ceiling. It was just within her reach. “When people run, they never run smart,” Zaluna said, running her fingers inside the dome. “The secret is to make sure the watchers don’t know who’s running.”

  Hera was alarmed. “What is it? There isn’t a surveillance cam on board here, is there?”

  “This was once a city transport. Those were set up for commercial surveillance thirty years ago.” Finding nothing, Zaluna stepped down and moved to the next seat. Climbing, she repeated the process with the next light fixture.

  Kanan gawked. “Why would they bug a hoverbus?”

  “In those days, to see what beverages you preferred to drink on a commute,” Zaluna said, fishing around with her fingers. “These days, it’s for the same reason the Empire would watch a cantina, or an elevator. To catch threats before they become threats.”

  Skelly crossed his arms. “Everyone who called me paranoid, the line for apologies begins to the left.”

  Zaluna’s jowls flared upward in a Sullustan smile, and she removed a small widget from inside the fixture. “Ah. Just like I thought. One of our obsolete recorders. No live feed—it does a batch upload to the satellite once a week.” She pitched it to Hera as Kanan helped her down.

  Hera rolled the impossibly small recording device over in the palm of her hand. “It won’t send anything now, will it?”

  “No, it’s disconnected from the transmitter. But I admit I’d be interested to see what’s on it. I’ve been in the dark all day. I’d like to know what all the noise was about.”

  “You were better off where you were,” Kanan said. “I’d like to be able to forget it!”

  Hera stood in the doorway and looked at him. “Can you hide all of us at the bar until we figure out what the situation is? It’s safer if we don’t split up.”

  There was no use grumbling, Kanan realized. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that he wasn’t going to change Hera’s mind once she’d decided on something. “All right,” he said. “But at the first sign of a stormtrooper, Skelly, I never met you!”

  —

  “Bastinade is here,” Sloane said, sipping from a mug and gesturing to the Lambda descending from the sky.

  “Can your people keep this one from being blown up?” Vidian asked. “You only have nine more shuttles.”

  Sloane hid her expression behind her cup. The control tower’s caf was no good, but after the last few hours, any respite was welcome. They’d lost several transports, two TIE fighters—and, worst of all, their quarry. In a quarry: an agglomeration of pits filled with refuse and runoff like she�
��d never seen. The satellite trackers had lost the hoverbus after five seconds in the place. The stormtroopers could be combing the area for months.

  Until now, Vidian had said nothing about the incident, choosing instead to review the matter he’d first discussed with her back when they’d commandeered the hoverbus. A very strange matter, indeed, and one with potential ramifications for everyone who lived on Gorse. If it panned out, it might well turn more than a few model citizens into stark raving Skellies.

  It probably wouldn’t—but Sloane was anxious to get off the planet before something else happened. Any more time on Gorse, she thought as she headed for the shuttle, and I might not even get a substitute command again!

  IT WAS STRANGE, being in The Asteroid Belt alone. No customers had arrived yet, and he didn’t expect any for some time. Moonglow was undoubtedly still crawling with Imperials, and with the hoverbus out of action, Okadiah would have to find another way to get his regulars to and from the cantina.

  Kanan had thought a million times about ditching the others. But he didn’t want to abandon Hera, and she was convinced Skelly’s capture would have led the Empire directly to them. Who knew, maybe she was right. And she wouldn’t leave without Zaluna, not when the woman still had the data cube Hera wanted.

  At least Zaluna had been useful, leading them on routes she knew weren’t under surveillance. Once she had confirmed that the cams in the building were still dead, Kanan had sent everyone upstairs into the attic apartment. He’d lingered downstairs in the dark bar, gathering up whatever food he could find.

  Kanan had left that morning assuming he’d never see the place again. Now he had no idea where he’d be in twelve hours. He didn’t think anyone had gotten a good look at his face back at the Imperial spaceport, but he didn’t want to count on that.

  And something had to be done about his other guests.

  Someone worked the lock at the side door. Kanan quickly pulled his traveling bag off the bar and put it at his feet. Okadiah walked in, looking grayer than usual.

  “You’re here sooner than I expected,” Kanan said.

  “Something’s going on at Moonglow,” Okadiah replied, somberly placing his jacket on a peg. “You heard about Boss Lal?”

  Kanan nodded—and then shook his head. “I didn’t hear the whole story. What happened?”

  “They said a groundquake knocked her into an acid pool at the plant. She got too close,” the old man said.

  Kanan shook his head. “Terrible.”

  “Terrible lie, you mean.” Okadiah wandered through the darkness, straightening chairs. “I’ve known Lal Grallik for longer than you’ve been alive, my boy. She knew where to walk. She stepped in front of a vicious cyborg, is all—just like the guild chief did.” Pausing to wipe something from his eye, he turned. “They rerouted all our personnel transports to Calladan’s field. I took a hovercab over.”

  “That explains the crowd,” Kanan said, trying to sound normal as he looked around the empty bar. “I guess it’ll be quiet tonight.”

  “That’s one reason,” Okadiah said. He walked up to the counter and placed his hands together on it. “Some gentlemen met me when I landed.”

  Kanan found a rag and began to wipe the surface. “Were they dressed in white?”

  “Pretty foolish, given all the mud on this planet.” The old man walked to the far end of the bar and turned. Looking back, he saw the sack stuffed with food at Kanan’s feet. Evidently choosing to ignore it, he joined Kanan behind the counter. “They said the Imperials had to commandeer the Smoothride to the spaceport—and that someone stole it from there and took it for a joyride.”

  “Surprising,” Kanan said. “You’d think a big Empire would be more careful with other people’s property.”

  “It’s a good habit to get into.” Okadiah opened a bottle and set out two glasses. “Apparently whoever went on this joyride shot up a bunch of stormtroopers and did a hundred thousand credits’ worth of property damage.” Not looking at Kanan, Okadiah poured. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Kanan stood, stone-faced. “No, not really.”

  Okadiah picked up both drinks and looked at him. “That girl isn’t getting you into something?”

  Kanan didn’t answer.

  Okadiah watched the young man for a moment, before walking up to him with the drinks. “You’ve always struck me as a fellow with nowhere to go, Kanan—never as a man on the run.” He kept his eyes fixed on him. “Nowhere to go is better. Fewer people come around asking where you are.”

  Kanan nodded. “I understand,” he said, taking the offered glass. He gestured to a spot beneath the counter. “By the way, if you’ll check the safe, you’ll find some credits. I think someone dropped them behind a table.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Enough to put a down payment on another hoverbus,” Kanan said, shuffling a little on his feet. It was half the money he’d saved. “Er—probably not as new as the one you had.”

  “Then at least fortune smiled on someone today,” Okadiah said. He raised his glass in a toast. “May the spirit of death make a clerical error and forget you exist.”

  “Right,” Kanan said. Then he added: “To Boss Lal.”

  “To Lal.”

  Kanan downed his beverage and placed his glass in the sink. He picked up the sack of food and made for the staircase.

  —

  The raised voices behind the door silenced immediately when Kanan knocked. The latch opened. Seeing him, Hera lowered her blaster and let him inside.

  The room was a living space only in the Gorsian sense of the term. A chimney ran up through a low, slanted ceiling; from the street, there was no indication there was an upper level at all. Pipes ran along the floor, bisecting the moldy chamber. Portable lamps provided the only light. A mattress had been thrown onto some crates to create a makeshift bed.

  Zaluna sat at the foot of the bed, rubbing her ankles. The compartment had been a cramped place, and she’d slept wrong—when she’d been able to sleep at all. Skelly was seated in front of a little washbasin, doing his best to clean his wounds. And Hera was holding the door, looking as frustrated as he’d seen her.

  “Problem?”

  “We’ve just been discussing the day’s events,” Hera said, speaking evenly. She shot a look at Skelly. “Particularly some things that could have been done…differently.”

  “That’s what this crowd needs—a life coach.” Kanan walked past and began doling out food. Zaluna and Skelly reached for it eagerly. Kanan walked to the bed and sat down, offering Hera a seat and what remained in the bag. “Your table, madam.”

  After a moment, she sat with him.

  All ate in silence.

  “I’m serious,” Hera finally said as she finished her meal. “You’ve been doing this all wrong, Skelly. You need to forget the old way.”

  “That sounds familiar,” Skelly grumbled.

  Kanan chuckled. “What’s Skelly doing wrong now?”

  “It’s what I was trying to tell him earlier,” Hera said, crumpling the sack. “Gord confronting Vidian. Skelly blowing up everything in sight—it’s suicide. It’s not the way to do this.”

  “To do what?”

  “To run a—” Hera stopped. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “This is no way to make a difference against the Empire.”

  “They’re not trying to make a difference,” Kanan said, doling out the food. “They’re just trying to strike back.”

  “And I understand that. But if the people who have a beef with the Empire act solely in their own interests, it won’t do anybody else any good. In fact, it might make it harder for any kind of real rebellion to flower—”

  “Rebellion?” Skelly snapped. “Who’s talking about rebellion?”

  Nearby, Zaluna let out a tsk-tsk. She spoke to the air in a lilting voice: “This is how you get in trouble.”

  “Nobody’s talking about rebellion, that’s for sure,” Kanan announced. Zaluna had swept the room
for listening devices, but she clearly wasn’t comfortable with the words she’d heard.

  Hera rolled her eyes. “No, not us. We would never. But in theory…” She said the word loudly and looked reassuringly at Zaluna.

  “They really don’t like you talking theory,” the Sullustan said with a chuckle.

  Hera went on. “In theory, say you did have thousands of people—no, thousands of systems—enraged at a hypothetical Galactic Empire in a faraway galaxy. But they’re all upset over local matters, over particular grievances, and they never get together on anything. So they get no strength in numbers, no strategic advantages from cooperation. They’re easy to divide and conquer. And worst of all, no common spirit ever develops.”

  Skelly looked back in disbelief. “You’re saying we don’t fight back?” His voice reverberated in the small room. “What they’re doing to the moon. What they did to Lal. What they did to me—”

  “—was horrible, Skelly.” Rising, Hera walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “But you weren’t hurt by one person.”

  “You’re right. It felt like an army.”

  “You were hurt by a regime. You might get vengeance against the hand that hurt you—or that killed Lal. But you wouldn’t get justice. Not until everyone gets it.”

  Skelly’s eyes narrowed, and he looked back down in silence.

  On the floor, Zaluna drew yet another small device from her bag and started fiddling with it. “Checking my messages,” she said to those around her. “It’s safe.”

  Hera nodded.

  Skelly stared idly at the leafy stalk of the only vegetable Kanan had been able to find in the cantina’s larder. “You know, there were a lot of us that lost limbs in the war. All we wanted from the docs was to be able to do what we used to again. We didn’t volunteer to be turned into murder machines.” He leaned forward in a daze. “What’s wrong with that guy?”

  Kanan assumed it was a rhetorical question. He also realized that Skelly had taken a worse beating than he’d imagined.

  Zaluna gasped and dropped the gadget she was holding.

  The Twi’lek looked to her with concern. “What is it?”