by Alex Wheeler
Star Wars – 0 ABY
Rebel Force #6
Uprising
by Alex Wheeler
CHAPTER ONE
The moon was dead.
A film of red dust lay over the cratered land. Nothing disturbed the still, acrid air. There was no sound; there was no movement. There was only scorched, flat ground stretching to the bare horizon. If life had flourished here once, that time was long over. Erased, all traces of creature or creation wiped out.
Gone.
And so there was no one to see the bright star that skimmed across the horizon, nearly invisible in the light of the rising sun.
There was no one to understand that the star was a ship, circling the moon. Its first visitor in millennia.
Certainly there was no one to recognize the ion trail as that of a rusty old CloakShape fighter.
Unseen, the CloakShape orbited the moon, spiraling closer and closer to the thin atmosphere.
And inside, Commander Rezi Soresh—former Imperial Commander, current fugitive—stared blindly into space, and waited to die.
Twenty-seven days, sixteen hours, and four minutes.
That was how long he'd been waiting. Ever since Darth Vader had convinced the Emperor he was a traitor, Rezi Soresh had been on the run.
He snorted. On the run. What a joke. On the crawl was more like it. Hobbling from one star system to the next. Creeping through the shadows. Desperately scrounging for food, for shelter, for ships. One month before, he had been one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. Then he'd been blamed for the disaster on Belazura—even though it hadn't been his mistake that got the Imperial garrison destroyed. The ambush of the Rebels should have worked. Would have worked, if it hadn't been for the Jedi scum. And even so, it wasn't his fault. Darth Vader had twisted the facts, convinced the Emperor that Soresh was incompetent, maybe even a traitor. All because Vader was jealous of Soresh's power. If Soresh hadn't had a backup escape plan, he would be dead.
But life wasn't worth much anymore. Thanks to the Rebel vermin and the vengeful Dark Lord, Soresh was nothing. Less than nothing.
He was prey.
There were those who believed that the galaxy was teeming with life. Fools. The galaxy was a vast and empty wasteland, small outposts of civilization sprinkled through trillions of kilometers of void. Rezi Soresh was no fool—he knew how to use the emptiness. He knew how to hide.
But Vader was no fool, either, and Soresh had never expected to survive this long. Gradually, as he drifted aimlessly through the wilds of the Outer Rim, something had changed in him. Something had awoken, something he'd never expected to have again: Hope.
Perhaps he was as smart as he'd thought. Perhaps Vader wasn't as powerful as he'd feared. Perhaps he had a chance to save himself, and reclaim his rightful position at the Emperor's side. To get revenge on his enemies.
He had stumbled upon this moon by chance—but perhaps it was destiny.
Soresh dropped altitude and skimmed over the arid land, surveying his new home. It would take time to build a new base of power. It would take resources. But he had ample amounts of both. There were still sources he could risk trusting, secrets he could use to manipulate, to blackmail, to obtain what he needed. As one of the Emperor's most valued advisors, he'd been trusted with a large discretionary fund. Over the years, Soresh had siphoned the money into more than a hundred accounts. He had cultivated a cadre of underlings who would be loyal only to him. He had collected black market information, and knew more about his enemies than they knew about themselves. For one standard month, he had lived as a dead man, afraid to risk any contact with his old life. But living in fear, drifting through nowhere, endlessly waiting—it was no better than death. And it was no longer tolerable.
As always, he would be patient, and he would be careful. Soresh knew how his enemies saw him. They thought he was a narrow man, cowardly, paranoid, more comfortable with a datapad than a blaster.
They were right. But they failed to understand that these were not weaknesses; they were his greatest strengths. In the end, they would allow him to rise from the nearly dead. They would allow him to strike back. He would take them all down, all his enemies, all the ones responsible for stranding him here in this brutal no-man's-land.
He didn't have a plan, not yet. But he knew where his revenge would begin. He would start with the one who had started it all, the man who had been the beginning of Soresh's end.
Luke Skywalker.
CHAPTER TWO
"Did you say something?" Luke whispered.
"What part of quiet don't you understand?" Han Solo hissed.
"I thought I heard my name," Luke said.
"Well, maybe you should think a little more quietly," Han snarled.
Chewbacca growled at them.
Luke shut his mouth. When a Wookiee carrying a giant bowcaster shushes you, you take his advice. Especially when he's the only thing standing between you and a roomful of soldiers with blasters.
Luke sighed. Back on Yavin 4, this had sounded like such an easy mission. Go to the Royal Palace of Nyemari, grab the duchess's access codes for the Nyemari Imperial Military Installation, get out. He didn't understand how it had all gone so wrong so fast. Much less how he and Han had ended up crammed into a shoe closet, with only a thin curtain of Dramassian shimmersilk separating them from the duchess's guards. A thin curtain and, of course, Chewbacca, who was posing as a guard himself. Apparently, to most Nyemarians, all Wookiees looked alike.
As usual, Han had been determined to blast his way out of trouble, but Luke and Leia had convinced him to wait. Their orders were to infiltrate sight unseen. And Leia had insisted they follow orders. Of course, that was before Leia set off to explore the west wing of the palace while Han and Luke took the north and south. She should have rendezvoused with them an hour before, but there was no sign of her. Luke tried not to worry. Leia could take care of herself. Still…
"Do you think we should go find her?" Luke whispered.
Han smiled crookedly. "If I know the princess—"
There was a deafening crash and explosion of plaster as a sleek black airspeeder barreled straight through the wall. The room erupted in chaos as guards fled from the oncoming speeder. Laserfire from its forward cannons peppered the room, blasting holes in antique wallpaper, the clari-crystalline vases, and several dozen shoe boxes.
"—she'll find us," Han finished, as he burst out of the shoe closet, blaster blazing.
"What are you waiting for?" Leia cried, urging them into the speeder. White plaster dust coated her braided brown hair.
Luke, Han, and Chewbacca piled in. A phalanx of guards poured into the room. Laserbolts screamed through the air.
"We have to get out of here!" Luke shouted over the noise of battle. He whirled around to send a stream of laserfire at their pursuers. The speeder lifted off the ground.
"Thanks for the brilliant idea!" Leia aimed the speeder straight for the giant transparisteel window. "Duck!"
Luke cradled his head and braced for impact. A shower of transparisteel rained down on them as they hurtled into open air. Two stories below, a fleet of Royal speeder bikes lifted off the ground and gave chase. Leia increased thrust and they shot forward at 650 km/hr.
"I thought you wanted us to do this quietly," Han shouted over the engine roar.
"Change of plans." Leia jerked the stolen speeder hard to the right, tipping so precariously they nearly toppled out of the vehicle. She wove skillfully through the maze of skyscrapers, blasting through buildings when she couldn't go around them. The Royal guards were determined, but they couldn't match Leia's piloting skills. "You complaining?"
"Not today," Han te
ased.
"Feel free to let yourself out," Leia snapped.
Han stretched out in the seat, hands behind his head. "I'm fine right where I am, Your Worship. You can rescue me any day of the week." He coughed loudly, adding under his breath, "Especially when it's your fault we needed rescuing in the first place."
"Excuse me?" Leia said.
"I said—"
Chewbacca cut Han off with a loud roar. Luke gave the Wookiee a friendly slap on the back. "I'm with Chewbacca," he said. "How about we escape now, argue later?" Or never, he added silently. After months of crisscrossing the galaxy with Han and Leia, he was ready for a break.
"In that case, I suggest you hold on." Leia yanked the controls to the right, angling them on a collision course with a thirty-story tower. Luke clung to his seat as Leia pulled back hard. The, speeder lurched into a vertical climb, hugging the side of the building. Far below, Imperial speeder bikes skidded and smashed into duracrete, as they made clumsy attempts to follow. Leia ignored them. She hunched over the controls, eyes laser-focused on the narrow course ahead of her. There was little for Luke to do but admire her graceful flying as she steered them through the city-sized obstacle course. Their remaining pursuers quickly fell behind, lost in a forest of duracrete and transparisteel.
Soon they were alone in the sky, emerging from the dense city center into an empty stretch of land at the fringe of the capital. The Millennium Falcon was parked at a hangar only a few kilometers away.
"Now," Leia said to Han, relaxing her grip on the controls once the danger had passed, "I'd like you to explain exactly how this was all my fault."
"You were the one who tripped the silent alarm."
"Only because you were the one who tripped over your own two feet and knocked me into it."
"Are you calling me clumsy?"
"Of course not! I'm calling you a clumsy, blaster-brained nerf herder."
Luke sighed and leaned back in his seat. It was going to be a long ride home.
Anem, the capital city of Nyemari, was home to the most modern, architecturally sophisticated spaceport in the Meridian Sector.
Han refused to take the Millennium Falcon within a hundred kilometers of it.
Instead, he'd docked the ship at the South Anem Spaceport. It was little more than a large warehouse, built in the no-man's-land where the city bled into the desert. Its equipment and fixtures hadn't been replaced or repaired in three decades. These days, no one bothered to use it but grizzled spacers, smugglers, and any other unsavory characters with shadowy business on Nyemari.
In other words, it was Han's kind of place.
Li Preni, a Nyemarian who'd been fixing up ships at South Anem Spaceport for years, owed Han a favor. And he'd sworn on his life that he'd take care of the Millennium Falcon. But Han didn't trust anyone to take care of his ship—especially not a Nyemarian who'd sell out his own mother for a bottle of lum. The Falcon might not look like much, with her crumbling shield projectors and wonky power generators, but treat her right and she'd be your best friend. She was the fastest ship in the galaxy, and Han never felt quite right when she was out of his sight.
But as they approached the main hangar, things felt less right than usual.
It wasn't anything specific. Just a certainty, in his gut, that something was wrong. And Han always trusted his gut—that was why he was still alive. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on their ends. Shadows flickered at the corners of his vision. He swore he heard footsteps behind them, but every time he spun around, the street was clear.
"Calm down," Leia said. "Your precious ship isn't going anywhere."
"What is it, Han?" Luke asked, sounding concerned.
Say what you wanted about the kid and his Jedi hokum, Luke understood gut feelings. But Han shook his head. If he was right, and yet another bounty hunter was on his tail, that wasn't Luke's problem. Luke wasn't the one who'd double-crossed the biggest, ugliest, meanest Hutt this side of the galactic core. Han had been fending off Jabba's minions for months, and he wasn't about to let another one ruin his day.
"Didn't expect to see you back so soon," Li Preni said, as soon as he caught sight of Han. The Nyemarian scurried over, looking shifty and up to no good. But there was nothing unusual about that.
"Didn't expect to see me back at all, you mean," Han said. He knew Li Preni wanted the Falcon for himself. In fact, Han was half convinced that Preni had been the one to tip off the duchess that they were infiltrating the palace.
"Might have been a better plan," the Nyemarian hissed, leaning in close. Han gagged on Preni's thick, putrid breath. It smelled like a rotting bantha carcass. "Someone's been looking for you."
"Looking for us?" Luke said nervously. "Who?"
But Han was unsurprised—his gut was never wrong. "Was it that Farghul bounty hunter slug?" he asked. "You'd think he learned his lesson back on Iridonia."
Preni shook his head. "Just some Glymphid. Offered a big bounty if anyone could point him toward the crew of the Falcon."
"And what did you tell him?" Leia asked.
"Told him I never heard of you," Preni said.
Chewbacca growled and took a step closer to the Nyemarian. A big step.
"Okay, okay!" Preni squeaked. "I may have told him you were in town. But I didn't say you were coming back today, I swear!"
"Only because you didn't know," Han growled.
"Forget him," Leia said. "Let's get out of here before whoever it is comes back."
"Better idea," Han said, drawing his blaster out of its holster. "Let's stick around."
"Han…" Luke tapped the pouch containing the stolen access codes, a reminder that they had more important things to do.
"Don't gimme that look, kid," Han said wearily. They were exactly the same, Luke and Leia, always telling him to stop, think, wait. Be patient.
Well, now it was their turn to be patient. It was past time to send a message to Jabba. And Han decided this Glymphid was just the guy to deliver it.
CHAPTER THREE
Leia wanted to throttle Han. As usual. He was acting like they hadn't just spent three days on the run. Like there was no rush to get the access codes off the planet and back to Yavin 4—much less get themselves off the planet before the duchess's forces figured out where they were.
How did I get here? Leia asked herself, not for the first time. Once, the Rebel Alliance had been her only priority. Destroying the Empire had been all she cared about. Then, out of nowhere, Luke and Han had dropped into her life. Destroying the Empire still mattered—but so did they.
Which was why, fuming, she followed Han out of the hangar and back into the alleyways of Anem. Good friends were hard to find—and even harder to ignore when they were about to do something stupid.
"This way," Han hissed, stepping over a heap of rotting acid-beets. "I think I saw the guy slip around the corner."
Chewbacca's tracking skills and Han's "gut" guided them through the maze of narrow streets. The pavement was cracked and uneven, frequently giving way to rubble. Leia couldn't believe how different this area was from the dense city center, with its glossy, crystalline skyscrapers. There, everything had been smooth and silver. Here, every building was a patchwork of bright colors and mismatched materials. Market stalls dotted each corner, hawking for rolow berries, krayt dragonskin pouches, and small pourstone statues of the duchess. The rich, sweet scent of roasting hambones choked the air. In the city center, speeders jockeyed for space at death-defying speeds. But here, the only traffic was a line of sallow creatures that looked like lumpy, bloated eopie, and the occasional wild pack of roaming voorpaks.
As for the alien they were tailing: More than once, Leia caught a glimpse of a long proboscis or scaled leg disappearing around a corner. But it was always too quick to be caught, too slow to escape them completely. Something was wrong.
But Han wouldn't be stopped. He led them into a cramped alleyway, zig-zagging through heaping dumpsters. The heavy stink of rotting garbage was overwhelming. L
eia held her breath, walking faster and faster until she was nearly running. She pushed past Han and exploded out of the alley, drawing in a desperate breath of clean air. She nearly choked on it when she spotted the Glymphid standing only a few meters away, his finger extended toward Han.
"Found you!" the Glymphid hissed. The alien was tall and thin, with tan, scaly limbs and suction cups at the end of each narrow finger and toe. Red eyes peered out over a long, sharp snout.
"Worst mistake you ever made," Han drawled. They had landed in a dusty, disused plaza. A decrepit fountain sat in the middle, spigots dry and rusting. They were completely alone with the Glymphid. Leia was suddenly sure that was no accident. "Now, you go back to Jabba and—"
"I have something for you," the alien interrupted, rushing toward them on gangly legs. "Wait!" he yelped, freezing as three blasters and a bowcaster were leveled at him. The alien raised his hands in the air. "It's just a message. I don't even have weapons. You can search me."
"Jabba sent me a message?" Han asked.
"Not you," the Glymphid said. "Him." He extended a long, suction-tipped finger toward Luke.
Without thinking, Leia stepped in between Luke and the Glymphid. "What do you want with him?" she asked.
"Him?" Han said, eyes wide. His head swiveled back and forth between Luke and the alien. "You sure it's him?"
The Glymphid pulled out a datapad. "The human traveling with the Millennium Falcon, pale hair, low intelligence—"
"Hey!" Luke exclaimed. Han snorted. Leia shoved him.
"—answers to the name of Luke."
"That's you all right, kid," Han said grudgingly.
"I been looking for you for a long time," the Glymphid said. "And it's worth a big reward for me if you just listen to this message." He thrust a holochip and small holoplayer in Luke's face.
"What do you think?" Luke asked.
Leia narrowed her eyes at the Glymphid. "We need more information before we can—"
"Let me see that." Han seized the equipment. Before Leia could stop him, he shoved the chip into the player and switched it on.