by Ben Acker
It really did feel good having Dec call him “our kind of guy.” Relief washed over Mattis that the caper was over and they had gotten away with it.
“Mr. Hansen!” The voice came from the other end of the corridor, turning Mattis’s relief into cold panic. “All of you! Stay right where you are! Miss Nadle, Aygee-Ninety, and good gracious, Mr. Banz! I say!”
Admiral Ackbar. Oh, no. He approached them with angry intensity, waving one of his big webbed hands in their direction. The two sentry droids flanked him, their eyes flashing on and off methodically. His large cranium seemed to be pulsing as he reached where they stood.
“Dec Hansen, do you think the Resistance is made up of fools?” the Mon Calamari elder statesman asked.
“I definitely don’t,” Dec replied. He kept his cool.
“Then don’t treat us like fools!” Admiral Ackbar looked for somewhere to bang his fist but, not finding anywhere, threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “Now, you’re either here to help the Resistance or you are not. This isn’t a summer holiday!”
Mattis didn’t say anything and checked to see what the others would do. They did nothing. Sari held her head in her enormous hands in disbelief. AG leaned against the wall and kept to himself. Only Dec dared to stare down Admiral Ackbar.
“You come with me, Mr. Hansen,” Admiral Ackbar said. “The rest of you, go to your quarters. I’ll deal with you all before long.”
And with that he spun on his heel and marched back the way he had come. One of the sentry droids informed AG, “General Organa did not ask to see us.”
The other said, “You were misinformed.”
Then the sentry droids rolled behind Dec and herded him after Ackbar. Mattis, Sari, and AG-90 watched them go.
MATTIS DIDN’T KNOW his parents, but wherever and whoever they were, he knew they were good people. He was confident that they had fought in the final battles against the evil Empire. He’d only ever shared that suspicion with one person, a three-eyed girl at the orphanage named Jinby.
“Do you have any evidence of this?” she had asked. They were both about ten years old then. Jinby was a studious sort who liked logic and reasons and math.
Mattis didn’t have any evidence that his parents were great heroes of the Rebellion, but he didn’t need any. He didn’t care for math and had no use for reasons, and logically, his parents were too busy fighting the good fight against the galaxy’s evil to drag their child along with them. That’s logically why they’d left him in Marn’s care. He held out only a hair-thin sliver of hope that they’d return for him someday. Instead, he figured he’d meet them when the New Republic celebrated his exploits. They’d probably surprise him at the victory parade.
“Who are these people getting on my float with me?” he’d ask, knowing full well that they were his parents but not wanting to ruin their surprise. His mother would hug him so tight it’d be hard to breathe. His father would salute him stiffly, then wobble a little and hug him even tighter.
At first, Jinby didn’t agree that was probably exactly how it would go, and that was bad enough. Worse was when she conceded that, okay, probably it would happen that way. Mattis knew she didn’t believe it; she was just being nice. He decided never to repeat his story.
What he had never said to anyone, ever, not even once, was that he had the Force. The Force was with Mattis.
Ever since he had been a little kid and the Phirmists talked about the Force, he knew he had it. The Force was in everything, they said. Some people were sensitive to it. Some could wield it as a power. It was up to those people whether they used the power for good or for evil. Many didn’t believe in what they thought of as an “ancient religion,” but the Phirmists believed, and none more than Mattis.
Mattis had felt it swell within him. The Force. An energy that was created by and bound together all living things. Mattis would use that power to help people all over the galaxy. Just as soon as the Force manifested itself. He knew it was there, but so far, he’d been unable to push or lift objects or influence the minds of the weak (though he had tried). It was only a matter of time. He would meet someone, maybe even someone in the Resistance, who would tutor him in the ways of the Force.
But now he might never get the chance.
He sat on the hood of an unused base speeder, dangling his legs dejectedly over the pavement. A boxy yellow loader droid buzzed past. He thought he could hear it tsk. Mattis had really blown it.
How could he have been so stupid? He should have known better! Some hero! He’d known AG for five minutes! Why would he trust him? He’d known Dec for less. He shouldn’t have trusted either of them. What Mattis should have done, on arriving at the Resistance base, was keep his head down, follow orders, and find someone who could help him realize his potential.
But no! The first thing Mattis had done was disappoint Admiral Ackbar! Admiral Ackbar had fought bravely and triumphantly against the Empire. If Mattis had inadvertently gone against Admiral Ackbar and the admiral was a good guy, what did that make Mattis? A bad guy?
The Mon Calamari statesman made his way to where Mattis sulked and stood before him. Mattis wouldn’t be surprised if he was told not to bother unpacking, that he was being sent right back to Durkteel.
“You messed up,” Admiral Ackbar said.
“I know.” Mattis hated how weak his voice sounded.
Admiral Ackbar put a large red hand on Mattis’s shoulder. “It’s a bad start, Mattis,” he said.
“I know. I’ll go wait for the transport.”
Admiral Ackbar stepped back. The large black pupils of his globular, jutting eyes shifted, as if Mattis were written in a language Ackbar used to know.
“We don’t want you to leave, Mattis,” he said. “Ridiculous! Do you know the danger Snap and Antha Mont and the others courted in bringing you here? Why would we want you to leave?” Admiral Ackbar shook his head. Mattis couldn’t believe that in admitting to being a disappointment, he had disappointed Ackbar even more. “It’s hard to find upstanding young men and women to join the Resistance. We found you. Do you think I’m a fish-headed moron?”
“No!” Mattis said, much more confidently.
“Of course I’m not! And neither are General Organa and Commander Seastriker or anyone else in charge of this proposition. We’re smart. It’s why we get to be in charge. It was our decision to bring you in, and we trust our decisions.” Admiral Ackbar visibly softened. “You had a bad day, Mattis. But that doesn’t mean we’ll give up on you.”
“Thank you, sir,” was all Mattis knew to say, but it didn’t feel like enough.
“Come with me, son,” Ackbar said, and started slowly toward a nearby building. Mattis hopped off the base speeder and joined the admiral in step. “You got caught up in that silly business before you even got your feet wet.”
Admiral Ackbar walked Mattis into a small hangar where an A-wing fighter was stripped to its frame. A few maintenance droids and young ground crew banged on it with tools.
A young man maybe a few years older than Mattis approached them immediately. Unlike most of the young people Mattis had seen on the base, the man was dressed in a military fashion. The Resistance didn’t really have a uniform, but he wore a martial-styled jacket, and his hair was cut close to his head. He stood up straight and nodded deferentially to Admiral Ackbar.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said.
“Jo Jerjerrod,” Admiral Ackbar said. “This is your newest squad member, Mattis Banz. Mattis, Jo is your squad leader. He’s among the finest the Resistance has recruited. You listen to Jo and you’ll do just fine.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jo said. If he thought anything of Mattis, his bright blue eyes didn’t betray it.
“Keep in line, Mattis,” Admiral Ackbar said, waving a webbed hand and heading out.
“I’ll see he does, sir,” Jo said. But as soon as Admiral Ackbar was out of sight, Jo spun on his boot heel and walked away.
“Should I—” Mattis started.
&
nbsp; “Just stay where you are,” Jo called over his shoulder. He disappeared behind the skeletal A-wing for what felt to Mattis like a long, long time. An Ugnaught in a red tunic dragged a dorsal stabilizer fin across the floor near Mattis; the fin scratched along the pavement.
“Do you—Can I help you with that?” Mattis asked. The Ugnaught snorted and glared at him.
“Don’t mind Beckles,” Jo said, returning. “She thinks she can do everything on her own. Maybe she can.”
“Is this your fighter?” Mattis asked.
“No. I don’t know whose it’ll be. A Blue Squadron pilot asked me to take her apart and make sure she’s bombad.” Bombad was Gunganese for great. There was no world in the whole galaxy in which Dec and Jo would be friends, Mattis thought.
“Dec Hansen was supposed to do it,” Jo continued. “He’s a wild one, but he has a way with machines. Of course, he didn’t stick around to help at all, despite it being a direct order from his squad leader.”
“You.”
“Me. The task still needs doing. So I’m doing it. Hansen will regret that.”
“Okay.”
“Your training starts tomorrow, Banz. Are you going to be wild like your friend?”
“Dec isn’t my friend,” Mattis said. “I think.”
“Well, you should figure it out. You can follow orders, fall in line, and make a difference on the behalf of the Resistance, or you can be wild and we can’t trust you, which means we can’t use you. Give that some thought.”
“I’ll do the first thing,” Mattis replied. “Follow orders.”
“Good,” Jo said. “I want to show you something.”
Jo didn’t wait for Mattis but turned on his heel again and exited the hangar. Mattis had to run-skip to stay a few steps behind Jo as he strode across the base. Jo didn’t turn back to look at Mattis, nor did he speak any more; he walked with his back straight, and his boots clacked loudly on the tarmac.
They were in the command center when Jo finally spoke to Mattis again. “Hang back,” he said. “Be quiet and watch.”
The Resistance leaders were gathered around the command module. They wore stern expressions and watched as a serious-looking older man traced a pattern across a star diagram and spoke about the mission Mattis had seen begin that morning. Mattis picked out a label, Nardin, though whether it was a person or place, he could not discern. Then Mattis heard a name he knew well from the old stories: Luke Skywalker. Was Luke Skywalker part of the Resistance? Could Luke Skywalker train Mattis to be a hero, too?
Mattis had a lot of questions, but he was an old pro at what they at the orphan farm called the Competitive Silence Challenge. He could go for up to five minutes without speaking. Six if it meant impressing his squad leader.
The Resistance leaders seemed frustrated. They’d gotten word from their mission commander that the team hadn’t met its objective. The mission would take more time, which meant a greater likelihood that the Resistance would be discovered by its enemies. Plans were made and contingencies were considered. Mattis had many questions, and he was sure he had been quiet for an hour. Not even the Competitive Silence Challenge champion could do that.
As if Jo could tell Mattis was at the limit of his ability to stay quiet, he took Mattis out into the hangar and sat him down on a makeshift bench surrounded by a collection of greasy tools. An X-wing fighter had taken off from that spot just hours before. There was no one else around.
“Do you know what the First Order is?” Jo asked him. Mattis remembered hearing about the First Order from Snap, but Jo did not wait for a reply. “The First Order started out as a splinter group of the Empire. After the Battle of Jakku, they broke off and gained a modicum of respectability. They were even part of the New Republic for a while. But they’ve been planning something. An awakening of power and destruction. That’s what General Organa says, and she’s seen it before. General Organa helped Admiral Ackbar defeat the Empire a generation ago.”
Mattis tried not to roll his eyes. Of course he knew who General Organa was.
“We need to stop the First Order, Mattis. Us. We’re not playing a game here. The First Order is bad. They are bad people. It’s going to take discipline and training to stop them before they do some real damage. Discipline and training. You think your friend Dec has discipline?”
Mattis could feel Jo’s hatred for their enemy under his own skin. It felt hot and anxious. Dec wasn’t the kind of person who could defeat them. Dec broke rules.
“I can’t hear you,” Jo said. “Do you think Dec Hansen has discipline?”
“No!” Mattis said, louder than he’d said anything since arriving on the base.
“That’s it. Good. I will teach you to follow orders. I will teach you discipline and, in return, you will help me help Admiral Ackbar and General Organa protect the galaxy. Do you understand me?”
Mattis nodded, excited. He wanted to salute, but he didn’t want to salute wrong.
“Do you understand me, Mattis?”
“Yes!” Mattis shouted, saluting.
Jo smiled at Mattis’s salute. Mattis couldn’t tell if it was because he’d done it perfectly or wrong. Rather than ask, he decided he’d done it perfectly. Jo stalked past Mattis and told him to fall in, which meant follow him.
Lorica Demaris was waiting for them in an area called the Yard, despite its bearing no more resemblance to a yard than a wampa did to a pot of beans. The Yard was a small converted hangar in a remote corner of the base. A series of soggy knolls rolled off its back wall like ocean waves. Mattis could hear the hoots and shrills of local birds and longed to identify them from the books he’d read, but the Yard was windowless. It was spare save for two short rows of benches, various types of flight and combat equipment, and against one wall, a locked store of weapons.
Jo marched Mattis into the Yard, which was dim with artificial light. Maybe to sharpen their combat senses? Or maybe the Resistance didn’t have the power to generate electricity in every corner of its base. When Jo introduced Lorica to Mattis, she just raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh, we’ve met. How’s it going, Durkteel?”
Jo told him, “The Resistance is pleased to have Lorica on board. We know her reputation, of course.”
“Oh, does she have a reputation?” Mattis asked, matching Lorica’s disinterest.
Jo told Mattis that she did indeed and went into details, once again telling Mattis things he already knew. Jo seemed immune to sarcasm.
“He knows, Jo,” Lorica said, cutting him off. “He told me who I was a few times when we got here.”
“I was just surprised. I figured you’d have joined the Resistance ages ago,” Mattis said to Lorica. “I mean, you being you.”
“Being me?” She said it as if it were an insult.
“Lorica was brought in the same way you were, most likely,” Jo said. “Though probably the recruiters had to work a little harder to dig you up, Mattis.”
“My reputation preceded me, I guess,” Lorica said. “Jo was sent down to talk to me.” She lowered her eyes when she mentioned Jo. It made Mattis feel intrusive and jealous, for some reason.
“Lorica was a natural fit for the Resistance. I could tell in just the few times we spoke that she’d be a good soldier.”
“Already done some damage to some bad guys,” Mattis said, nodding.
“She has discipline,” Jo corrected him. “The things we talked about. It’ll take more than well-placed bombs to take down the First Order. You’d do well to follow Lorica’s lead. I’ll see you both at sunrise.” With that, Jo about-faced and stalked out of the Yard.
“He’s got a lot to prove.” Lorica shook her head.
“Is that true? Why?”
She glared at him. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just know how people are.”
Mattis stuck up his hands innocently. “Okay,” he said. “You know him better than I do.”
“I don’t know anyone.”
Mattis didn’t know what to say in response, so he took
in the Yard. He might as well get used to it. He’d be there for the foreseeable future. He looked for the birds but didn’t spot any of them. He realized his focus had drifted when Lorica broke the silence. “Did you really break into General Leia’s rooms?”
Mattis stumbled back a few steps. “Those were General Leia’s rooms?” he said. Dec had been more reckless than Mattis had known. The general’s quarters! It was a wonder Admiral Ackbar hadn’t court-martialed them! If court-martialing was something they even did there. Maybe he was lucky they didn’t.
Lorica was still staring at him. “I d-didn’t,” he stammered. “I mean, yes—not me—Dec did. I just kept watch—I mean—I just got here. You saw me get here! You just got here. I mean—”
“You’re going to be so much trouble, aren’t you?” There was menace but also a smile in her voice.
“Not if I can help it.” He sighed. “Can I ask you a real honest question?”
Lorica consented.
“Do you know if the Resistance has bathrooms? I haven’t seen any, and I’ve never needed one more.”
That made Lorica laugh. “Follow me,” she said. They left the Yard. Lorica led him to a row of doors, each with a symbol of a drop of water on it. “Any more questions?”
“Did you always know you were going to be a hero?”
“Don’t push it,” she told him, and then pointed. “Barracks are that way, mess hall’s over there. Past that, you’re on your own. See you at sunrise, Durkteel.”
Mattis was exhausted. He made his way back to his bunk directly. His rucksack was where he’d left it, and he saw that someone had claimed the bottom bed.
“Best friend?” Klimo, the enthusiastic Rodian, chirruped. He leaped up and smacked Mattis hard on the back. “I knew that was your bag! I found it! It took some looking, but I found it! We’re bunkmates, best friend! This will be so exciting! So much adventure for us!”
Klimo pushed Mattis down on the empty bunk and laughed loudly. “Tell me all about your life! We will stay up all night as best friends do! Is it true that you broke into the general’s rooms?”