Chapter Text
“Tell me about your homeworld.”
Lieutenant Kaydel Ko Connix looked up from her bank of monitors to where Rose Tico stood behind her. The young Resistance commander, head of the Engineering Corps, held a mug in each hand with one extended forward. Kay spied a wisp of steam curling from the rim and inhaled, taking in the fragrant aroma of caf, a blend different from the sludge they’d been drinking since putting down roots on Ajon Kloss.
“This didn’t come from the latest ration delivery. Where did you get this?” Kay asked, turning fully in her chair to accept the gift.
“If I answer, will you tell me about your homeworld?”
Kay sipped, reveling in the explosion of multiple flavors. The caf exhibited strong forward notes of cocoa and cinnamon, and finished light. If she had to guess, Rose lifted a bag of beans from that casino in Canto Bight while in search of the Master Codebreaker, a small act of rebellion but nonetheless a favorable one for them. Quickly, though, Kay dismissed the thought. It meant Rose had to carry said contraband with her throughout her ordeal on the Supremacy, and that made absolutely no sense.
Regardless of the where or how, this beat the caf rations of late. Kay vowed to drink slowly to make it last.
“Why would you want to know about Dulathia?” Kay gestured for Rose to take the free chair next to her. “Search the holonet for any information you need. Is it relevant to a mission?”
“It’s conversation, to pass the time,” Rose said. “I’m aware I can research the system, but surely you bring a more colorful perspective. I like learning about where we all came from, and how we all ended up here. In the Resistance, of course.”
The commander appeared tired, with her dark hair falling out of its ties and fine lines creasing in the corners of her eyes. Kay knew how seriously Rose took her promotion, as well as her assignments from General Organa to help establish this base and survey weak spots in First Order technology to exploit. This was a critical time in the war, and every person in the Resistance had an important job, even if they didn’t appear so at the outset. Some, like Rose, would likely work through all the cycles if allowed.
It may have explained the caf, but it pleased Kay to see Rose taking cues from her body. The woman needed a break, and she’d chosen to spend it with Kay. She liked that notion more. She liked Rose’s infectious smiles and cherubic features. Kay kept those thoughts to herself, however. In the midst of a war, it seemed crass to make an overture. She wasn’t wholly certain Rose was attracted to women, either.
On the other hand, life was short. Recent battles proved as much. The Resistance enjoyed the camouflage of the jungle planet for now…
“Is Dulathia like Ajon Kloss?” Rose asked, bringing Kay back into the conversation. “You seemed to adapt to the weather better than anybody else around here. It’s nothing like Hays Minor here. I don’t think I’ve stopped sweating since we landed.”
Rose said this, yet glowed. Kay noticed no damp spots on the woman’s work shirt, not like their colleague Beaumont Kin. He dripped sweat like a Tattooine pod racer. It hadn’t escaped Kay’s mind that Rose noticed something about her , too.
“Some parts, yes,” Kay said, and set her mug near the main console. “There are jungles and rainforests closer to the equator, but where I come from the temperatures enjoy seasonal change. I miss the snow.”
“I don’t expect we’ll see snow while we’re here.”
Kay quirked up her lip, failing at a smile. “Depends on how long the war lasts,” she said. That earned her a groan, and Kay searched her mind for something more pleasant to say when one of her monitors pinged an incoming message.
“I don’t recognize this code,” she told Rose, concerned. Whoever paged them now was not from the Resistance, or any established allies. Kay watched, bewildered, as lines of unreadable text scrolled before her. “I speak and read several languages fluently and this has me baffled. Have you seen ciphers like this before?”
Rose stood and leaned closer, reading the screen over Kay’s shoulder. Twin scents of cocoa and cinnamon filled the space between them, yet the fear of receiving a possible virus designed to attack their systems also hung heavy in the air. Kay shifted to one side, giving Rose room to examine the encryption.
“Where’s Threepio? Maybe he can piece together a few words of this,” Rose said after several seconds of tense silence. Kay dispatched the first passing junior officer to search and retrieve, and within minutes the general’s protocol droid was shuffling over to offer his services.
Which, thankfully, brought them a few steps closer to solving the mystery. Threepio identified the text as a combination of several languages, including basic and lesser used tongues. “In this lead sentence alone, Lieutenant Connix, I am picking up words in ancient Ovissian, Shyriiwook, and… oh dear.”
“‘Oh dear?’” Rose pressed, sounding nervous. “I’m not familiar with that system.”
Threepio straightened his posture and turned to her.
“I’m finding words in ancient Sith as well.”
The revelation seemed to take the air out of their space. Despite the jungle heat, Kay rubbed her arms to fight off the chill. Anyone daring to communicate with them in Sith words either approached them with a wicked sense of humor, or somebody within the First Order thought to toy with them.
“That’s a rather odd combination of languages to use for one message,” Rose said. “You know what it says? I know a few phrases in Shyriiwook thanks to Chewie, and nothing here looks familiar.”
“Of course. I am fluent in over six million forms of communication. The words in this message are not straightforward, however, but are jumbled, Commander Tico.” Threepio pointed out one line from the screen and explained how whoever sent the coded message not only alternated the languages but scrambled the letters in each word before adding the extra layer of encryption. “It is perhaps not the most sophisticated method of relaying secrets,” he added, “but I calculate the sender is an ally, just not a very clever or technically savvy one.”
“I don’t know,” said Kay. “It would not occur to me to create a puzzle like this. Whoever sent this is dedicated.” She glanced at Threepio. “They must also know we have the means to decipher their message.”
For a droid incapable of displaying facial emotion, Threepio seemed to compensate with a slight bow of his head. He thanked Kay and bent back to the screen. “Indeed, Lieutenant. However, this message doesn’t relay any sensitive information beyond providing coordinates and a request to meet in person.”
“What?” Rose slammed down her mug on the nearest surface, startling Kay. “All that trouble to invite us to a party. Or a trap. Did our secret admirer at least give a name?”
Threepio confirmed, no. “All it says, Commander, is that the sender has intel of great interest to the Resistance, regarding the First Order. If these coordinates are correct, the informant would be sending us to the Sinta Glacier Colony.”
“A mining colony on a floating chunk of ice,” Rose said, and met Kay’s gaze. “You said you missed the snow, but I wouldn’t recommend it as a vacation spot. I understand the First Order recently annexed it. It’s kind of a thing they do with mining colonies.”
Kay’s heart ached for Rose, seeing the distress shadow the other woman’s face. She watched Rose fight the memories of her own homeworld in order to focus on the task at hand.
“We have an ally there, one of the mine overseers. He’s skimmed from the First Order’s surplus minerals before and sent the goods our way. Maybe this time he has more to give.” Kay considered, too, the possibility of this message serving as a lure. What would the First Order expect to gain, though? They had to know the Resistance wasn’t so trusting as to send an entire fleet to a remote area of space and hope for the best.
Kay conceded the decision to Rose, being the senior officer. “There’s only one answer here,” Rose said as she downloaded the encrypted message to her pad, “we take it to a higher power and let them decide if it’s worth pursuing.”
///
General Leia assembled an away team to meet their contact at Sinta Glacier. Poe Dameron intercepted the order and changed the roster. By the time Leia allegedly discovered the ruse, the Millennium Falcon had long jumped into hyperspace.
“It’ll be safer for us never to return,” Finn told him, glowering over the ship’s dejarik’s table.
Poe focused on the moving game pieces, calculating possible play patterns according to his next move. “If you’re so concerned about how Leia plans to punish you, then why did you agree to come with me in the first place?”
“Somebody has to mind you children. That will be my defense. If Leia sees through that,” Finn said, shrugging, “I’ll say I was coerced.”
Poe side-eyed Chewbacca, who merely growled out a laugh and executed a move that put the game in his favor. Though Poe knew the Wookiee loved to win, their arrival at Sinta forced them to abort the game. If Chewie harbored any upset about it, seeing their mission to completion trumped any ill feelings.
What was so damned critical that Boolio, their informant, refused to share over their encrypted communication channels? Poe pondered this question throughout the transfer of intel to R2-D2’s memory banks, and the ensuing escape flight from the TIE fighter squadrons come to erase them from existence.
When they returned to Ajon Kloss, banged up but free of all shadows, Poe clapped Finn on the back. “If you ask me,” he said, “Leia will be relieved to know we’re alive.”
Finn glared at him.
///
General Armitage Hux stared at the severed, multi-horned head Supreme Leader Kylo Ren unceremoniously tossed onto the meeting table. Eyes closed in death, broad lower lip tucked close to his drooping nose, what remained of the Ovissian wobbled a bit before settling on the hard surface. At least Ren had the decency to drain the head of its blood before showing off his trophy.
Hux didn’t miss, also, the proximity to which Ren had placed the traitor’s head. Another foot and Hux would have the thing in his lap. A sign of suspicion, or a power move to exert his authority? Hux bet on the latter.
He cast his gaze down and away from Ren, fighting to conceal his betrayal and to focus on the knight’s latest tirade. Ren’s angry pacing of the conference space spoke to Hux of distraction; the Supreme Leader was on edge, and thankfully mired in another distraction that kept Hux’s deception far in the background.
The girl, the scavenger accused of slaying their previous leader, Snoke. Hux hadn’t believed it for a second. She’d rejected Kylo Ren’s hand, and now he brooded down every corridor like a spoiled brat denied a treat. He resumed wearing his helmet, now repaired in a fashion more suitable for a wild social on Canto Bight.
He suffered through the demoralizing briefing with all the aplomb learned to him over the years. He deflected the taunts of sensing unease at Ren’s appearance, and bit his lip at the announcement of Enric Pryde’s promotion to Allegiant General. Why not let the old battle-ax have his private ship and quarters as well? Hux counted the seconds in his head until Ren dismissed them with the order to find the spy and solve the problem. The man-child then flounced away as dramatically as he’d entered the room, with a line of toadying officers at his heels.
Except Hux. Still seated, he crossed his legs and examined the severed head left behind. Perhaps Ren assumed Hux would dispose of it. Let it rot here for all he cared.
“So you were the one,” he said to the partial corpse, his voice low. “No point in researching records to learn your name, as it’s irrelevant to the First Order. The Resistance may consider you a hero, or a martyr, but to me you were simply a means to an end.”
Hux had never visited the glacier colony himself, instead assigning a team to inventory the mines’ output. Recent discrepancies in Sinta’s ledgers necessitated a face-to-face visit, after which all parties involved were able to reconcile the numbers. The probability of Resistance sympathizers working within the colony inspired Hux to test his theory.
Lay the bait in plain sight, see who takes it. Send a coded message to the Resistance and see the line tug. The Ovissian’s head proved the information made it off the glacier.
He walked the long way to his quarters under the pretense of inspecting various stations. A quick survey of his ready room revealed no anomalies. Seated at his desk, Hux brought out an unregistered data pad and checked the inbox. Three messages awaited him.
One, from Lieutenant Mitaka, confirmed delivery of Hux’s cat Millicent to distant relatives of the general on Arkanis. He nodded at the message, pleased to have secured his pet’s safety. The official story among the First Order, as planted by Hux himself, was that Millicent suffered a terminal illness and was put down. Hux suspected either Ren or Pryde might do the animal harm just to spite him.
One, from a well-bribed junior officer in engineering, acknowledged the temporary closure of a lower-level escape pod for “maintenance updates.” Hux wanted a clear passage to the pod in the event he and Mitaka needed a more swift exit than planned.
One, from a Resistance contact, codename Wingman, read, “Message received,” followed by an access code to an encrypted channel in the event the informant could spare further intel or simply “wished to chat.”
Hux sighed. “Somehow, Palpatine returned,” he said. “What’s more to say?”
Yet he saved the message. Ren undoubtedly had plans worth leaking.