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Skywalker: Resurgent Ch.9: It's All Coming Together
"It's certainly a much more impressive looking ship when it isn't crawling with pirates, I'll grant you that," Leia remarked.
We were exiting the hangar bay of the ship as Leia made her comment. It was hard to hold a conversation in the currently bustling hangar as it was swarming with activity left and right. Prisoners were being offloaded, equipment was being checked, and the former slaves who hadn't wished to stay had transports waiting for them to take them to an Alliance friendly world.
Our rendezvous with Alliance forces had been met with many happy tidings but also an explosion of activity. Among other things, Han, Chewie, Leia, and Threepio were all happy for my safe return. Han had flown everyone over on the Falcon less than an hour after we'd arrived and begun offloading prisoners and had begun taking on a small army of technicians and specialists to crawl over this heap and inspect it for traps, faults, or anything especially dangerous.
And speaking of; I'd been helping see to the separation of the new recruits from the ship's compliment of former slaves who still wished to leave. In total, of the one hundred eighty-six slaves we'd freed, one hundred and four of them had decided to stay on with us. I'd sort of hoped for more but was also amazed that more than half of them had chosen to stick around and help. Perhaps they were just the ones with nowhere else to go or thought they wouldn't get a better offer elsewhere, but I wanted to hold true to my promise and make sure that each of them had a place with us.
As for the rest, they'd be transported elsewhere. We'd located the control devices that were used to keep the slaves in line and from escaping. Yes devices, as in more than one. There were three in total and were rigged with proximity triggers to activate if any of the slaves got more than a kilometer away from the ship. We'd had them deactivated safely, but it'd take more time to remove the implanted explosives. Fortunately, I'd gotten word that there was a certain organization based out of Chardaan that's always willing to lend a hand in situations like this and was apparently run by more than one Alliance sympathizer. That was where we were sending the rest who simply wanted to be free and/or away from this life. I wished them all well, although I doubt I'd see any of them again.
My attention had been immediately taken up by my friends as the Falcon's ramp came down and they descended it to greet me.
Han had greeted me with a firm handshake and a casual greeting that made mention of how glad he was that I had survived my 'little excursion,' as he put it. Leia was much less concerned about playing it cool and greeted me with a hug, as did Chewie a moment after her. The big wookiee had glomped all of us together in his massive arms, even lassoing Han into it as Threepio chirped his congratulations for our mission's success.
I'd asked them to follow me to a conference room I had set aside for us to meet. Since the hangar deck was swarming with people trying to complete one task or another and we were kind of in the way, I figured it to be for the best. Threepio had broken off to catch up with Artoo, who was once again in the hangar control room helping coordinate the rush of activity.
"They may be owned by the Empire these days but nobody can deny that Kuat Drive Yards don't turn out some impressive ships," Han remarked. "Not bad at all, even if she's a bit of a relic."
"A relic?" I snorted. "Hardly. Just because she's not the latest design doesn't mean she doesn't still have more than a bit of life left in her. Something I intend to put to good use once we get her fully operational again."
"So you're really planning on keeping this tub?" Han asked. "I'd just as soon strip her for parts. These things were notorious for being overdesigned and that was before the modifications Redbeard added to her. You're probably better off selling her for parts and buying your own ship with the profits from that."
Chewie growled his disagreement with his friend's opinion.
"Thank you, Chewie," I replied. "It's nice to have a more educated opinion chime in with support for my ideas."
"Oh, come on," Han rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Don't tell me I'm the only one here who doesn't buy into that Clone Wars-era nostalgia? The ship's underarmed for a vessel its tonnage, it's tail heavy, the ventral side has totally inadequate weapons coverage-"
"Boys," Leia interrupted. "Could you perhaps have this conversation some other time? At least when I'm not around?"
"Not interested in starship design, your highness?" I asked cheekily. "Well as it happens, I'm glad you both decided to fly on over. I've got a little something for us all just through here."
We came up to a door leading to one of the conference rooms this ship boasted. Although, conference room may have been understating it. The plush chairs and elegantly designed metal table wouldn't have been out of place in some high class corporate boardroom somewhere. Neither would the obviously well stocked liquor cabinet sitting against one wall.
The only things out of place were the three conspicuous looking boxes sitting on the table itself.
Han let out an appreciative whistle at the scene.
"Let it not be said that Crimson Jack didn't spoil his crew on the accommodations," he remarked. "He turned this place into a luxury yacht."
Walking over to the cabinet, I gestured to the various bottles that came in all sorts of different colors and shapes.
"A lot of this stuff is probably going to disappear over the next few days," I lamented, pulling out enough glasses for the four of us. "So, I thought we could all enjoy a quick toast before this all goes away. I however, have no idea which of these is good and which is trash. So, I'm appealing to your superior expertise in this matter."
"Don't mind if I do," Han said agreeably. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and began sorting through the labels. A moment later, Chewie came up behind him and began doing the same.
"And although you didn't ask," I continued, pointing at the boxes on the table. "All of your missing credits, accounted for and returned."
"Aw, kid," Han said, putting a bottle of clear liquid back on the shelf and turning to face me. "You really didn't have to do this, y'know? I'd have been fine."
"Yes, I did," I told him firmly. "For several reasons, sure, but also because I promised you I'd get you your credits back."
The fact that it spared him the attentions of bounty hunters like Boba Fett and whomever else Jabba would send after him was also a big relief to have off of my mind. Also, I wasn't sure what specifically had inspired Han to stick with the rebellion in the years leading up to Hoth, but in case I had inadvertently changed things without realizing it or had missed an opportunity somewhere, I was sure this would help ingratiate Han just a bit with me and therefore the cause.
"My advice though?" I went on. "Get your butt to Tatooine as soon as possible and get that bounty off your head. No telling what kind of mood Jabba will be in when he finds out he lost a whole Venator. Word will get out eventually and I wouldn't want to be around him when he's enraged. The stories of what he does to his enemies are bad enough when they're told secondhand."
"I will," Han nodded. "Seriously though, Luke; thanks for this. I know you didn't have to go out of your way for me but I appreciate it nonetheless. I owe you one."
"Well, if you feel that strongly about it," I replied. "We can talk about it when you get back. There might be some opportunities you'd be interested in either around here or with the Alliance."
"You're not coming along?" Han asked. "I thought you'd like to visit those folks of yours?"
I hesitated a moment before answering him. While nobody said anything and it only lasted for a moment, I was sure my friends had noticed my pause.
"No," I said at last. "No, I'll have to do that some other time. I'm going to be too busy getting this hulk fit for duty and taking on the rest of the fighters originally slated for Red Squadron. You and Chewie should just go yourselves."
"You sure?" he asked. "I can hold off for a few days if you'd like. It'd be no trouble at all."
I thought I saw a touch of concern in his expression before he smoothed it away. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that except that right now I wished he would just drop it.
"I'm sure," I confirmed. "I'm going to be way too busy in the coming weeks to just take off for a few days. I started something here, so it's only right that I stick around to make sure all the little pieces keep moving the right way."
"Besides," I smirked. "You won't want me hanging around just in case news does reach the big slug faster than it should have. Since I'm told I'm something of a trouble magnet, you're probably better off if I stay here."
"Speaking of staying here," Leia interjected. "I hope you're not thinking of keeping the name for the ship that Crimson Jack gave it. Have you thought of any name alternatives?"
"I'm not sure, actually," I admitted. "I've got some ideas but nothing seems to really fit so far, y'know?"
I was tossing a few names back and forth in my head as a suggestion. Keeping the name Rigor Mortis was not an option since I doubted anyone would want to keep the name and I personally didn't like it. I had considered calling it the Enterprise, but I don't think that one would pass either. It also just didn't feel right, if that made any sense. Neither would any Earth specific names for that matter since many of them wouldn't be relevant to the people serving aboard her here and now. That eliminated Yorktown and many other names I'd thought up. Redeemer, maybe? The Avenger? The Prodigal Knight? Maybe just call it the Rogue? No, all of those sounded wrong for one reason or another.
Why was this so hard?!
"I'll make sure I come up with something," I assured her.
"Well, you'd best come up with something before your debriefing tomorrow," Leia advised. "Before you know it, it'll go to some kind of committee and you'll end up burdened with some name you don't like. Since you led the operation, odds are that whatever you call it will end up sticking since it'll be in the official report."
"Ships without names are bad luck," Han chimed in with his opinion. It seems he had also found a bottle he liked. Surprise, surprise, it was some kind of Corellian whiskey. "And I think I found just the right bottle."
"Then I'll pour," I offered, twisting the cap off the bottle and lining up the glasses.
"By the way," I added, handing Han and Chewie their glasses. "Leia; would you mind meeting me sometime tomorrow after my debriefing with Dodonna and his staff? I've got some stuff I want to run by you."
"Sure," she replied easily. "What's it about?"
"I've got another idea I want to chat with you about-"
I broke off as Han tuned to Chewie and gave a loud, "Uh oh!" which brought an amused huff out of the big wookiee.
"What?" I asked, turning to him. "What did I do?"
"Oh, it's nothing, kid," Han replied good-naturedly. "Just the inevitable reaction to hearing that you've got another 'idea' you want to run with. Seeing as how the last one saw you leading a military operation against a bunch of pirates, I can't wait to hear about this one."
Chewie nodded vigorously in agreement with Han's words.
"I'm not that bad," I protested. "Leia, tell them! This was a sound and sane plan that you were proud to be a part of planning!"
Leia suddenly seemed very interested in the conference room table and didn't turn to meet my eyes. The amused twitch at the corner of her mouth was the only tell that she meant it as a joke.
"Oh, whatever," I waved off. "New rule; you can't let me pour you all drinks if you're going to poke fun at my amazing ideas. Han, that goes double for you since you were holding your glass while you made that remark."
Han wore a suddenly put-upon expression at my response while Leia smirked at him and Chewie outright laughed.
"But all of that can wait until tomorrow," I waved off. "The galaxy won't spiral out of existence if we simply enjoy ourselves a little bit. Let's just be grateful that today, the good guys have won, the Empire and the Hutts have taken a bloody nose each in the last week, and we're all still here to laugh about it."
"Hutts don't have noses," Han remarked, holding up his glass. "But your point is still made. I for one, will drink to that."
"And so will I," Leia chimed in. "This was well done, Luke. You should be proud."
Chewie raised his own glass, grunting his agreement.
"Let's just be happy for now that everything's going so well," I said, holding up my own glass.
We all clinked our glasses together as my friends echoed the sentiment.
As it turned out, Han has excellent taste in booze. The amber liquid went down smoothly.
Later, after our little gathering broke up as we all acknowledged that we all had somewhere else we should be, I was cleaning out Jack's old quarters. Since I might be the one that gets them, I might as well make sure they were clean of any personal effects and double check for anything of intelligence value. I was taking one of the pieces of wall decoration down -some kind of beast's head that had been mounted- when I discovered something hidden behind it.
I thought it might be some kind of safe at first. Upon closer examination, I saw that it was a placard that seemed firmly attached to the wall. It was scuffed and faded and had been bolted to the bulkhead at some point, which is probably why it was still there and Jack had just hung something over it. Curious, I scrubbed some of the grime off of the surface as writing became legible. Date of commission, built with pride by Kuat Drive Yards... and a name.
I looked at the blocky black letters over gold background as I considered them.
I tilted my head.
I smiled.
Looks like new ship had a name after all.
The Resurgent.
~Skywalker: Resurgent~
Late the Next Day...
"Thanks for coming."
"You made it sound important," Leia replied easily. "I think you've earned the right to have someone listen to your ideas before calling them dumb. Before we get to it though, what's wrong with your hands?"
I waved a bandaged hand in negation to her concerns.
"It's nothing," I assured her. "Just a little training accident which has left me with singed fingertips. I'll be fine by tomorrow."
My hands were wrapped in bandages, as the medic had ordered that they remain that way for the next twenty-four hours. He'd treated them with a bacta spray and informed me to return the next day to have them looked at again or sooner if I experienced any complications.
An ability I had wanted to try was blaster deflection with my bare hands. Vader demonstrated it in Episode V when he deflected Han's blaster shots just after Lando had betrayed them. Of course, that might have just been his cybernetic limbs soaking up the shots, but it was also an ability demonstrated in the KOTOR games as a Force power. I'd figured that learning how to deflect blastershots would be extremely useful if I was ever caught unawares or without my lightsaber.
Of course, life isn't a video game and I actually have to practice an ability before using it, but the ability seem possible, if in theory. A blastershot was essentially a condensed beam of energy. If I could coat my hands in Force energy, or some kind of ionized charge, then I should be able to use my bare hands to deflect the energy.
Theory hadn't held up well to reality at first, however.
I hadn't been stupid enough to try shooting myself with a blaster, even on a stun setting. Instead, I had used one of the training remotes I usually kept around for lightsaber practice. I'd just switched the settings around to fire on me without my lightsaber being active and had slowed it down to fire a bolt once every sixty seconds as a start. Even on a lighter setting, those training blasts still stung a bit. I'd kept practicing until my poor hands had looked like I'd left them sitting out under Tatooine's twin suns for a few hours and had developed a wicked sunburn.
Thankfully, my hands looked well enough and still worked just fine, even with the damage. I'd have these bandages off soon enough and everything would be fine. On the plus side, I was pretty sure I could do it. I just had to work on protecting my poor hands a bit more before trying this for real. Plus, all this practice will be useful for some other techniques I want to work on at a later time.
"If you're sure," Leia said, eyeing my hands suspiciously.
"I am," I assured her. "Please, take a seat."
I gestured towards the couch that sat against the far bulkhead in what I thought of the living room area of my new quarters. I had been reluctant to take Jack's place as my own, what with my still lingering feelings of wrongness since I was the one to kill him in this very room, but I had relented eventually. Biggs and Wedge had both told me that I had to take the captain's stateroom if I was going to be in charge. Not only would it send a weird message if I didn't but it's not like it was that much more extravagant than the other officer's quarters in terms of anything other than floor space or privacy.
Still, they were quarters aboard a ship, and a warship at that so there was only so much room. There was a living space with a sitting area consisting of a couch and two chairs as well as a desk near the door leading to the hallway. There was a private 'fresher with all the amenities one would expect as well as a private bedroom which was dominated by a sinfully comfortable bed and an absurdly large closet space.
Most of the decor was gone now but I and just about everyone else would be keeping the furniture, it seemed. Nobody seemed eager to replace the absurdly comfortable amenities aboard with more common military-grade counterparts. In fact, I wouldn't have been surprised if there were personnel keeping an eye out for anyone attempting to make off with a chair or mattress they'd already claimed for themselves.
"So what's this about?" Leia finally asked, making herself comfortable.
"I think it's time you and I had a conversation about the threat we face and what we need to think about going forward," I said, sitting in the armchair across from her.
"Oh?" Leia asked.
"It's about Palpatine and his true nature," I said seriously. "He's not what he appears to be."
"So he's not a murderous tyrant, pruning and weeding a garden of vipers, sycophants, and brainless fanatics?" Leia asked lightly.
"Well, he is," I admitted with a smirk. "But there's more to it than that. He's also a Sith. A very powerful one too. His other name is Darth Sideous."
"A Sith?" Leia asked, looking surprised. "You're sure of that?"
"Absolutely," I confirmed. "You mean you didn't already know? I'm kind of surprised your father never told you as much."
"He told me what the Sith were," she muttered. "Not that it was hard to come across the name with the likes of Darth Vader around. You're saying he's like Vader? Another Sith Lord?"
"The Sith Lord," I emphasized. "He's the one who converted and trained Vader. Before him, it was Dooku. Before him, it was Maul. And before that, he was the apprentice to a fellow named Plagueis; the heir to a dark legacy stretching back millennia."
"Wait, wait," Leia said, holding up a hand to stop me. "Dooku? As in Count Dooku? As in the leader of the Separatist movement?"
"And a former Jedi," I added. "He became dissatisfied with the Republic and the Jedi after a few important and messy events and struck out on his own, away from the order. One thing led to another and he ended up becoming the next apprentice before the Clone Wars broke out. Whether he intended to kill his master one day for the sake of the galaxy or whether his goals shifted at some point during the war is up for interpretation. What we know is that he was killed by the man who would later become Darth Vader."
"That's..." Leia trailed off, placing a hand on her head as if to ward off a coming migraine. "That's insane. I'm working through the implications here, so please bear with me. You're saying that Palpatine is a Sith. For how long?"
"Most of his life, I believe," I answered, becoming thoughtful as I considered when about he must have began his training. "Since his late teens or early twenties, I think."
"That long..." Leia whispered before her face turned from contemplative to angry. "And Dooku was his servant after he left the Jedi and before the Clone Wars?"
"It makes for some grim math, doesn't it?"
"So it wasn't just him using the war to his benefit," Leia continued, still looking angry. "You're telling me he was the mastermind. He played both sides to achieve the desired outcome. The one that he benefited from."
Leia was now speaking as if those were statements and not questions.
"I don't suppose you have proof?"
"Not as such," I said regretfully. "Last time I checked, dreams and visions still weren't admissible in most galactic courts."
"No, they aren't."
"It's hard to explain to someone who isn't trained in the Force," I said. "But it does fill in a few holes, doesn't it? Like why Vader, who flaunts his power so frequently, is subservient to a man who plays himself like the kindly, yet geriatric grandfather."
"That is something many people have wondered about," Leia admitted. "There's been a lot of speculation about what would make a man like Vader subservient to Palpatine. This makes more sense than many of the theories that have been tossed around."
"How about the incredible series of events that propelled him to his current position? If Palpatine was a manipulative Sith Lord, pulling strings from the shadows, a lot more things start to make an uncomfortable amount of sense, don't they?"
"A rather uncomfortable amount of sense..." Leia muttered.
"Trust me; it only gets darker and more depressing the longer you think about it and the more you apply it to," I added. "Like how weirdly the Clone Wars were fought. How the Separatists, with their ready-to-go armies and fleets, were always kept from achieving their goals somehow by a Republic military that should have been scrambling to catch up. How there were new ships and armies ready to mobilize for the Republic almost as soon as the war started. How about how the Grand Army was so broken up into smaller units and divisions, there rarely seemed to be enough troops to get any one task done?"
"You're right," Leia broke in. "It does get more depressing the deeper you get into the topic."
"I'm not just telling you all of this to upset you," I assured her. "I'm telling you because I think it'd be a good idea to start fighting back on Palpatine's strongest front."
"What do you mean?"
"The Alliance has a good PR angle to work from. It's fighting to put down the evil empire and restore freedom and hope to the galaxy. With the Empire committing heinous crimes just about every day as a matter of practice, there's no shortage of people willing to listen. But knowing that Sideous is hiding this kind of thing, we can start putting events into a different context by filling in bits of missing information and letting people draw their own conclusions from them."
"Luke, why would people care?" Leia asked suddenly. "If Palpatine is a Sith, why would that matter to most people when he's already the Emperor? Even if we told everyone, the Empire controls the news and has always dominated in that field. How would you even begin to fight back in that regard?"
"You're right that Palpatine has dominated the media and has essentially written the narrative for decades," I agreed. "Breaking in on that front is going to be hard. It's been hard. The Alliance has had a rough time getting its message out as it is. However, I believe this," I said, bringing out a datapad from my pocket and setting it on the table between us. "Will be a game changer. For once, we'll be striking Sideous instead of Palpatine. We'll be hitting him right where he won't be expecting to be hit."
"And you think you can accomplish this?" Leia asked seriously. "How?"
I placed my hand on the datapad I'd set down earlier and slid it across the table to her.
"Have a look."
Looking at it and me curiously, Leia picked up the datapad and turned it on. She read the first line aloud with a trace of confusion and incredulity in her voice.
"'The Renaissance Man?'" she read aloud.
"Mon Mothma is a terrific writer," I commented. "Her publications she put out at the start of the Alliance, 'A Call to Reason,' made for fascinating reading. I intend to pick up that trend and bring it back, even stronger. Writing under a pseudonym, we can start distributing not just anti-Imperial literature but anti-Sith literature. Start telling people about the corruptive nature of the Dark Side and how warped many of its practitioners are. Using knowledge of the Force, presented in plain basic for anyone to understand, we'll be shining a light on a part of Palpatine's rule that he's worked very hard to keep secretive."
As I was speaking, Leia alternated between looking at me and scrolling through the short essay I had handed her. Once I finished, her attention was focused on the datapad in her hands as she skimmed through it and gauged it for its worth.
"It... certainly makes for an interesting read," she eventually said.
"That's the intention," I said, smiling.
She set the datapad down on the table abruptly. Placing her hands in her lap, she gave me a serious look.
"Luke, how exactly is it you know all of this?" she asked.
'Ah,' I thought. 'Here we go.'
"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I told you Kenobi told it to me?" I asked.
"No, I wouldn't," she affirmed. "For one, you're dodging the question. For another, you've shown a remarkable level of insight whenever you've pitched one of your ideas to me. General Kenobi hasn't shown that in any of the conversations I've had with him, so I don't think it's a Jedi thing. I've seen it when you've talked with others too. Mostly with General Dodonna and with Han. So I'm asking; what's going on?"
"Would you believe that the short answer is 'the Force?'"
Leia gave me a very unimpressed look as I held up my hands and shrugged.
"Really, I don't know a better way to put it, Leia," I told her. "You know that I'm Force sensitive and I've been trained by Kenobi. Well... there is a bit more to it than that. I was the one who sought out Kenobi. Because I knew exactly who and what he was. Just like I knew who you were when you drew your blaster on me behind that sandcrawler."
"How?" she pressed.
"When I was fifteen," I began. "I came down with what my aunt and uncle thought was a serious fever. Except, it wasn't. At least, it wasn't just a fever. I experienced what many Force sensitives would call a vision, except mine lasted far longer than any vision that any of them would be familiar with. When I woke up, I saw... so much. Not everything, but a lot. It was like the galaxy had poured itself through my mind like water from a jug and had left droplets of moisture, of knowledge behind."
"So you saw the future?" she asked.
"And the past," I elaborated. "And things that could have been as well as things that never were or will be. It was like... a big puzzle. I had to sort through the pieces and discern what was useful from what wasn't. Some of it I'm still pretty sure is useless, but suppose it is meant to provide context at least. Here and now, I am putting to use the pieces I have and using them to the greatest effect. In that way, I suppose it's more like dejarik than a puzzle..."
"Say I believe all of this," Leia hedged and pointed to the datapad on the table. "What makes you sure that this is true? That Palpatine is a Sith?"
"Because I had Kenobi confirm it for me," I told her, tapping a finger against the side of my head. "And there is no information up here that says otherwise. There's enough info that's peripherally accurate that I have no doubt that Palpatine is the mastermind to many galactic travesties over the last few decades. Knowing this, I intend to fight back with more than just an X-wing or a lightsaber. I also intend to beat him at his own game; information. And what's even better is that I'll do it by telling the truth."
Leia stared at me for a long moment.
I stared back.
Eventually, she sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingertips and closed her eyes. I waited for her to say something before I continued.
"I'm pretty sure this is the part where I'm supposed to call you crazy," Leia said at last. "Maybe check that bottle you drank from yesterday for spice or hallucinogens of some kind."
"You also drank from that same bottle," I noted, amused.
"Which might be why I'm inclined to take you seriously about all of this," she replied with a sigh. "Maybe I'm feeling the effects of whatever it is too."
"But you don't really think so," I pointed out.
"No," she admitted. "You've been too lucid, too right for me to just dismiss you as crazy. Like that device you'd insisted on carrying with you aboard the Death Star. It was like you'd expected to need it well in advance. I had worried, once or twice, that you might have been some kind of spy. For whom, I had no idea. But that theory never seemed to really hold up to serious consideration."
"I'm on your side, Leia," I insisted. "And I want to prove it again to you, if I can."
"And I believe we're on the same side too," she acknowledged. "Some of that might be instinct but I can tell you're being at least mostly honest with me."
I shrugged, not wanting to acknowledge that I really was only being mostly honest in this conversation. Perhaps Leia noticed this or perhaps she didn't, but she chose not to press the point right now in either case.
"I still have questions," she stated, raising and pointing a finger at me.
"And I'll be happy to answer what I can," I replied.
We spent another hour talking before calling it a night. She did indeed have more questions and I was able to answer most of them. I didn't tell her everything though. This was a lot for any one person to take in and I didn't want to overwhelm her right now. There'd be time to discuss family relations at a later date.
I hadn't even really lied here, if you looked at it from a certain point of view. For all I know, everything I said to her was completely true. And at worst, it was the truth condensed down into a form that she'd be willing to accept. Perhaps there was some greater power at work or some underlying mystery as to who I was, am, or used to be. Or perhaps it didn't matter either way. I am me, I am here, it is now, and I had plenty enough to deal with without adding on an existential crisis.
For now, I was happy with the progress we'd made here.
~Skywalker: Resurgent~
One Week Later...
"This exercise will be focused on moving in tighter formations and splitting to confuse enemy tracking systems," I lectured. "Stick with your wingmates and follow the direction of Lieutenants Antilles and Darklighter. Fighters will once again launch under emergency scramble protocols. I know you're probably sick of those drills by now, but it's imperative we know them so well as to do them in our sleep. I'm confident we can shave at least thirty more seconds off of our best times by the end of the day. Any questions?"
Looking into the crowd of assembled pilots, I saw nobody raise a hand and didn't sense anything more than the usual mix of boredom and apprehension that I'd come to associate with these flight drills. Taking the lack of response as a 'no,' I decided to wrap this up.
"Alright," I said. "Let's get it done. Dismissed."
There was a slow trickle of pilots leaving out the back of the briefing room now that we had finished. As the last of them filed out, I let out a big sigh I had been holding back and shuffled a few sheets of loose flimsy that had been left sitting on the podium I was using.
We'd been at this for nearly a week now and I'd be lying if I said things weren't getting a bit old. But, it was necessary to break in the new pilots and crew members before we went charging into the action again. Even the most eager among us had to admit that these things had a learning curve to them and the practice drills we were doing had shown some positive results.
Still standing behind the podium, I rolled my shoulders as my mind wandered back to that big debrief with Dodonna and the other officers a week ago.
After we'd returned to Alliance territory with the Venator, the loot, some prisoners, and a new potential recruits, I'd found myself in a debrief with Dodonna and several other officers, including a very pissed looking Commander Pye'ke.
Needless to say, the reactions were mostly positive, given our outstanding success. A new warship, even one that was technically a pirate vessel, was still an incredibly valuable commodity. Everyone was excited at the idea of at least looting the ship for parts or allocating it to the sector's fleet forces. I immediately put a stop to that line of conversation when I declared that it was already being slated for a new command. Mine, specifically.
That had drawn some frowns, including one ferocious glare from the implacable Commander Pye'ke, as many had apparently been under the impression that the ship was either going to be stripped for parts or otherwise gifted to one of the several understrength fleets in the Alliance Navy. Some had even argued that we didn't have any Venators in the Alliance fleet for a reason and that it would be absurd to try and keep just the one.
However, I had talked with Dodonna before embarking on this mission. In detail, I listed my plan for how to best utilize the captured ship. As the author of the Alliance's outrageously successful starfighter doctrine, he had been interested at first and then excited as our conversation delved into how to use the ship as a dedicated carrier and mobile strike platform. While Dodonna's original ideas had stemmed from utilizing hyperspace capable fighters to their greatest effect, mine was to use a Venator as a launch platform for X-wings, Y-wings, and even A-wings with their tiny and limited jump capacity. The ability to deploy directly from the Resurgent would greatly increase the number of targets we could strike against.
This also brought on a topic I found slightly baffling in the Star Wars universe; everyone seemed ready to underestimate the Venator. It was a decent design and filled an important role when it first rolled out of production, but the Empire was so quick to decommission and pass off the leftovers from the Clone Wars, one might think that its successor vessel, the Imperial-class, had to be a fundamentally better ship.
Except, it wasn't. At least, not in the same ways.
Imperial-class Star Destroyers were iconic. Massive, bristling with turbolaser and ion batteries, heavy armor and shields, they cut right through enemy formations with their iconic wedge shape. They're ship killers, plain and simple. Meant to throw down with anything that gets in their way and usually come out alright at the end of the engagement.
However, they didn't boast nearly the same carrying capacity of the Venator-class. Neither in terms of fighter squadrons, nor in troops and materials. The Venators didn't have nearly the same amount of firepower, granted, but they could be much more than front line battleships like they had been mostly used as during the Clone Wars. I saw tremendous potential and was motivated by my special knowledge as I had described it in relatable terms to Dodonna.
It wasn't until Earth's second world war that people began seeing the potential of carriers as warships. The Battle of the Coral Sea, the Battle of Midway, and numerous other engagements backed up what I was aiming for here. When used properly, carriers could operate in a special role that placed them in a category completely other than those of standard warships. While the Alliance had scratched the surface with their use of Quasars and Carracks, I argued that it was time the Alliance explored a more dedicated and upscale version of something they had already realized; our starfighter corps was one of our greatest assets.
Of course, convincing one man of something he had already pretty much realized himself was fairly easy. Convincing a bunch of others over the objection that they weren't going to be getting a new warship so that instead, some upstart farm boy who thought he was a commander could test out his new idea about space warfare was a bit trickier.
To be honest, I didn't think I'd be getting my way here if I didn't have the backing of both Kenobi and Dodonna. While he was acquainting himself with his duties, Kenobi had also done me a huge favor by endorsing me and my ideas. While a few people were leery of allowing someone untested into a position holding such responsibility, the precedent already existed with how Jedi were granted officer roles during the Clone Wars. True, many of them didn't excel in their positions but an endorsement from the famed 'Negotiator' helped assuage many of those concerns. At some point, I'd have to find some way to thank my teacher for his help.
Not that Dodonna's support was anything to scoff at. The famed author of the Alliance's starfighter doctrine had a lot of weight attached to his name. He'd successfully coordinated operations against numerous Imperial targets, including half-finished star destroyers caught in dry dock. Victories such as those were what really kept the Alliance going strong, since the Empire couldn't easily hide losses so severe and word of them always spurred hope and better recruitment numbers. When I'd pitched to him the idea of recreating those feats and even surpassing his results with the Resurgent as the perfect platform to do so from, he was so enthused by the idea that I had momentarily wondered if he'd want to take command of the Resurgent himself. He didn't offer or even suggest it, but I was still wondering how I'd feel about it if he did or what ripples it might cause.
Combined with my miracle shot on the Death Star, the outrageous success in eliminating a pirate lord, freeing a bunch of slaves, and capturing a Venator intact, I was the Alliance's newest rising star. It boded well for my plans going forward that I was getting my way but it was also stressing me the hell out from time to time. With my new rank came actual responsibilities that I was working hard to adapt to, if only to keep others from the impression that I was in way over my head with all of this.
Commander Pye'ke in particular wasn't making it easy, as he seemed especially pissed he had to refer to me as 'Commander Skywalker' now. While he didn't go so far as to confront me openly about it, he'd been as uncooperative and as snide as he could get away with being whenever we had to interact. I'd resorted to audio-only transmissions whenever feasible. I was getting eager to get this ship cleared to operate on her own soon, if only to get away from the snide bastard.
A nice consolation we'd gotten was that much of the funds we'd secured from the pirates would be going to the newly established Rogue Cell. The artwork and much of the equipment would be passed off for the Alliance to do with as they pleased, but most of the actual funds would be ours to do with as we liked, as Dodonna had informed me.
"You did the work, you get the spoils," he'd phrased it.
I'd wasted little time working up a distribution chart for the credits. I'd decided that everyone would receive a small cut of the funds they'd helped acquire with only a slight marginal increase for the officers, squad leaders, and myself. It was a generous sum, if not the small fortune it might have been otherwise. A big portion of the funds had gone to providing for the new crew who had served as slaves before we'd arrived. Specifically, ensuring that they had money to spend for themselves on things like clothing that wasn't Alliance fatigues or other personal items. Most of that funding actually went to ensuring that their accommodations were at least as good as everyone else's aboard.
Nobody had objected when I'd made that decision. Apart from the fact that it'd make them sound greedy if they did, it only took one look at the slaves' former living arrangements for everyone to decide that it was a worthy cause.
Suddenly, the ship's intercom cackled to life in preparation for an announcement.
"The ship is now in emergency drill conditions," the voice informed. "Stand by for simulated alarms and orders."
Which meant that the scramble alarm would be sounding sometime in the next fifteen minutes or so. Sighing one last time, I finally exited the briefing room and decided to wander the ship's corridors before the announcement came. The point of these drills was to get everyone accustomed to running for the hangar deck or their assigned battle stations from wherever they might be on the ship and at a moment's notice. I could just hang out near the hangar deck, but that would ruin the spirit of the drill and be rather hypocritical since I'd already made a point to discourage people from doing exactly that.
'Once more unto the breach,' I thought, awaiting the inevitable start of this next launch.
~Skywalker: Resurgent~
Yet Another Week Goes By...
"I'm sure you'll all be happy to know that we'll be redeploying soon to meet up with the supply ship and the rest of the equipment we've been granted by Alliance Command. We'll also be picking up the rest of the personnel we've been allotted. From there, we'll begin operations against Imperial shipping and targets of opportunity."
There were excited faces in the conference room as I informed the ranking members of our group of our plans. Everyone had been working hard at getting settled in and preparing the ship for active duty. There was a slow tension building among a lot of the crew as to when and where we'd be hitting Imperial targets again but that was to be expected.
"Sir," Lieutenant Makks, the olive skinned human I'd met who was in charge of Aurek Squad spoke up. "Have we gotten all of the parts and equipment we've requested?"
"Not all of it," I replied unhappily. "We're not the only asset the Alliance has to fund and supply. That, and we have a problem due to the fact that there aren't any other Venators in the Alliance Fleet. Some parts are just going to be a pain to come by, to say nothing for replacement parts for the interdiction field generator. But don't worry," I hastened to add. "I've asked someone to look into some leads on some parts we can get our hands on. If it pans out how I think, we should have all of the parts and spare equipment we'll need for the foreseeable future."
Not that I intended to pay for said items, but that didn't have to be said. The only properties with Venators these days were all owned by Imperial corporations or territories. I'm pretty sure from my memories that the Corporate Sector managed to hang on to a couple of them but the only way I'd deal with them was if we were flat out of options and were able to pay what would surly be obscene fees.
"Have we gotten any useful intel on where we'll begin, boss?" Wedge asked.
"We have," I confirmed. "Intelligence jumped at the chance for us to intercept unguarded shipments in the depths of hyperspace where they'd be caught without support. Shipping schedules are being acquired and we'll be notified soon of where they want us to begin. Presumably, whichever shipments are carrying whatever the Alliance needs most and whatever it'd hurt the Empire most to lose."
There were accepting nods all around at that. While some may balk at the idea of using this ship to steal and leech off of the Empire, it was an undeniable fact of life that the Alliance military survived largely in part to what it managed to take from the Empire. Not every mission could be a critical strike against fleet or planetary assets.
"Barring any surprises or accidents," I went on. "We'll be getting underway in approximately six hours from now. Are there any more questions?"
There weren't.
"Then let's get this show on the road, people."
AN: I am obligated to inform you all that one of your fellow readers, Yexius, called this before it came up in the story. I actually originally decided to call the Venator the Redeemer, but the Resurgent just sounded better when I thought about it. I literally had written the change a day before he left the review calling it, so that's some damn amazing timing.
Happy Star Wars Day, everyone!
I wanted to get this one out as quickly as possible to celebrate the day and give you all a nice little something to read. I might do a little touching up later, maybe in formatting too, but what you see is basically what you get. I'm thinking we'll have two more chapters of original content. After that, we'll be hitting the main story again with events that some of you should recognize.
So, Renaissance Man? That name is definitely a joke but the idea is entirely serious. I thought it would be interesting to see if there was a recurring writer of anti-Sith propaganda who was more than willing to discuss the faults in this mysterious and highly flawed cult that's been around for millennia. Now, before you call me a Jedi Fanboy, let me be clear that this is targeted at Sideous and his practices as the Lord of the Sith. I'm not an ardent supporter of the 'Jedi way' by any means. What I do think is while the Jedi aren't perfect, they're still a step above the psycho behavior we see in many Sith and openly encouraged by Palpatine.
This story has rocketed to the top of the rankings! I am stunned and amazed by the outpouring of support you guys have shown and just want to say thank you for all of your kind words and support by following this story! It has been a blast writing for you guys and I look forward to doing so for some time to come!
Until next time!
