Heritage/Chapter 18

He was a man of forty or so, though a health-conscious life gave him the appearance of a much younger person. His hair was still a vibrant red, and Wedge had to squint to pick out the minute traces of gray, the only tell-tale sign. He was lucky to have caught his old friend on Coruscant, especially at such a critical time. When Corran mentioned hearing Pash Cracken was back for a few days, Wedge jumped at the chance to speak with him. The holovid Wedge’s new resistance group had created had not yet been made public, and he wanted a chance to speak to all the leaders he could about it before that time.

Pash was standing in the middle of the wide public docking bay, legs shoulder length apart, one hand on his hip and the other directing workers to attention-needed areas of his Starlight-class light freighter. He didn’t make stops in the Core worlds habit anymore, preferring home on Contruum like his father, so Wedge felt safe in assuming that it was a forced sojourn. The frustrated erectness of his spine as the repairs went slowly gave credit to Wedge’s postulation. “Hello, Pash. Long time no see.”

The other man spun on his heel, surprised at the sound of Wedge’s voice. “Wedge!” He immediately outstretched his hand, and they shook vigorously. “What brings you around here?”

Wedge shrugged, noncommittal. “Just you. How have you been?”

Pash smiled, eager to catch up with his old friend. “Better than ever. I’ve just set up a starfighter academy on Contruum. They’re all as green as goblin moss, but have enormous potential. I expect great things. What about you? How are Iella and the girls?”

“Very well. Myri just entered the Junior Intelligence League Institute. Iella’s so proud.”

“I bet,” Pash continued to grin. “So really, what’s brought you out here? I know you didn’t come all the way to Sah’C Town just to see me.”

Wedge scratched his head, then took Pash’s elbow and led him toward a more private corner of the bay. “Have you heard about the massacres at Bespin and Clak’dor VII?” he whispered at last.

Pash nodded, a slight frown wrinkling his still-smooth face. “Yes. There’s been a lot rumors about an invasion lately. But the HoloNet is playing it quiet, so I assumed there wasn’t much to worry about. They always blow things out of proportion anyway. If there was a real threat I figured we would be in mass hysteria by now.”

Wedge grumbled something to himself about blasted politics. “Listen, there’s a lot of things Fey’lya and his cabinet don’t want you to know.”

Another smile. “There always is.”

“This time it’s different. Pash, they’re all Force-sensitives. Number estimates place their population in the millions.” He cleaned closer, pitching his voice lower so it wouldn’t carry. “They even managed to kidnap Leia Solo.”

His comrade’s sea-green eyes widened. “Really? I hadn’t heard anything like that. I thought Fey’lya was opening negotiations.”

“That’s what he says,” Wedge growled, rubbing the fine stubble on his chin. “But these invaders—the Baci—they don’t want to negotiate. They want to conquer everything. Our only hope is to band together against them and put down the threat before it escalates.”

“Wedge, you’re starting to sound like a radical,” Pash joked, only he was half-serious.

“Pash, you and I go a long way back. You know how I am. I hate war. My whole life has been nothing but a string of successive battles, only occasionally the person in my targeting computer changes. But these Baci are a different sort of enemy. I want my daughters to grow up in a safer galaxy than I did. If we let this opportunity pass, all could be lost.”

“I’m not sure I understand where you’re going with this,” Pash admitted. “But I have a feeling, and I hope it’s wrong.”

Wedge shook his head slowly. “Do you remember what a good pilot Corran was?”

“Of course. He was one of the best the Rogues had ever seen.”

“Do you remember how he got even better after he trained with Luke Skywalker?” Wedge countered.

The redhead frowned doubtfully. “There was a small difference.”

“Have you ever seen a Jedi fly?”

“They’ve sprouted wings?”

“Don’t be cute. I’m being serious,” Wedge harrumphed.

“Okay,” Cracken rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I flew against Skywalker in the sims once.”

“What happened?”

“Vaped me into oblivion.”

Wedge folded his arms over his chest in triumph. “What about hand to hand combat?”

“No. But I’ve heard things.” Pash was starting to look worried. He was following Wedge’s line of questioning to the conclusion and didn’t like the outcome.

“Imagine an entire species of beings who could manipulate their surroundings like that, and you have the Baci,” Wedge finished. “If the Republic is no longer willing to act, then we have to.”

“You’re starting to sound seditious, Antilles,” Pash sighed, but no longer had the same edge to his accusations.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I know,” Pash rubbed his forehead between his thumb and index finger. “But another rebellion? Why not try to work things out differently? How did it escalate this far for you?”

“Not just me,” Wedge corrected, “half the senior military personnel. And we’re going to broadcast a holo over the ’Net this evening outlining our plan. I wanted to give you a heads up…and ask for your help.”

“You haven’t answered half my questions yet.”

“We tried appealing to Fey’lya; numerous people at numerous times. Iella even went. Mara Jade Skywalker. Belindi Kalenda petitioned on behalf of the entire Intelligence Department. He’s unmovable.”

“What about the Senate? They’re the ones that have to vote anyway,” Pash countered.

“We asked for an audience and were denied. This is the only way we can see.”

Pash combed an uncertain hand through his hair and glanced around. “But with only half a military…you’ll never be able to do it.”

“We have some…outside help coming,” Wedge promised.

One red eyebrow raised minutely. “Not the Empire?”

“No. Better.”

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you yet,” Wedge winced. “Things aren’t finalized. But we still need all the help we can get. Come on Pash, we need leaders like you. We need those pilots you’ve been training. We need your dad’s support, the whole of Contruum.”

“My father?” then his face cleared of confusion. “So that’s where this has all been leading. You want me to recruit the old man for the second rebellion. What, did he turn you down?”

“Not in so many words,” Wedge winced. “But it’s not all about him. We need his help too, of course, but I also want you behind us, Pash. You’re one of the best pilot’s in the galaxy, and command a lot of respect and devotion for that. Others will follow you. And if Contruum joins, so will other planets. Please, just consider it.”

The youngest Cracken was quiet and thoughtful for a long time. “All right. I’ll think about it.”

“Listen to our broadcast tonight at 1800 hours. Main wave frequency.”

“I will. And Wedge, whatever I decide…good luck.”

The aging general smiled. “Thanks. I think we’re going to need it.”



Life was normal around Coruscant. Mothers and Fathers returned from their jobs to join their families for dinner. Young beings flocked into bars and clubs to watch the races, bet, drink, and make merry. Public offices closed for the business day. The evening rush left others stranded in heavy traffic. Younglings and crèchelings tended to their evening studies. But everywhere, near or far, home or away, people were watching the HoloNet.

Still, all was normal.

And then, for inexplicable reasons, the lights on their viewscreens went dark. Everyone went still. It was true, sometimes communications were disrupted temporarily because of an ion storm or some such occurrence. But that sort of interference always ended in static, never just dead air. What was happening? They soon got an answer.

Faces appeared suddenly. A group of them, mostly nearing middle-aged, and every one recognizable to anyone who had ever seen a holodrama. Was this some sort of new add, a military recruiting campaign? Some of the most famous beings in recent history stared at them with a grave bearing. Admiral Ackbar, a salmon-colored Mon Cal, spoke first.

“Good evening, gentlebeings of the New Republic. It is with solemn hearts we come to you today in this most unfortunate of times. For many years, the lengthiest part of all our lives, we have fought tirelessly to bring peace once again to our beloved galaxy. Tonight, we have been given the burdensome task of informing you of our failure.”

“In spite of what you may have heard,” another man picked up where the admiral had left off—the just-as-recognizable Wedge Antilles, “the force that decimated both the Bespin system and the Bith homeworld is not a docile group willing to compromise.”

“Not only have our citizens been ruthlessly murdered without any provocation,” Tycho Celchu spoke up, “but our very own government has refused to avenge these deaths. The killers of our friends, our family, our comrades, will go unpunished.”

“And soon,” Mara Jade Skywalker added, “if we do not act, it will be our turn to die without even the smallest defense.”

“My brothers and sisters in arms,” Gavin Darklighter pleaded, “I beg you to remember the days when we led you fairly, and victoriously. You know us. We have served alongside you, fought as comrades and not superiors. Remember the parity we have always treated you with, and know that we would not mislead you as our Chief of State has. We plead with you—for the sake of our posterity—to join with us in the defense of our galaxy.”

“These invaders have come without cause and without fear,” Han Solo added his voice to the cause. “They have robbed innocent beings of their very lives. They have managed to overtake people and places we would have never guessed harm could come to; my wife, Leia Organa Solo, among them. We have stood down enemies before, and we will do so this time.”

“I implore every being, from every walk of life, who hears this message to put your trust and faith in us like you’ve done in the past. Together, as a united people, we will not fail. The Force is our ally,” Jedi Master Luke Skywalker concluded. “But I also wish to caution you of the true danger our enemies—the Baci—present. They have bred themselves into a group of terrible power, each having a measure of Force-sensitivity. The same power you have seen the new Jedi Order and I exercise is also with our adversary; only they are infused with the same dark power of my enemies of old. That is the reason our concern is so great. Without your help, we are surely lost. You must have confidence in our words like you did when we promised an end to tyranny and the restoration of democracy. Now, to preserve that freedom, we must band together again. Even if it means temporarily renouncing the Republic we have all struggled to rebuild.”

“Our love of democracy has no bounds,” Admiral Ackbar finished, as he had started. “And on our sincerest honor, we promise to offer ourselves back to the Republic we love when this threat has been eliminated. Those of you who believe in us and our words, we will unite our forces at Mon Calamari in two standard days. We are looking forward to seeing you there.”



“It’s amazing what effect well-organized propaganda can have,” Jag Fel mused, not even looking up from the datapad he had tirelessly been typing away at for hours. Jaina had four times almost snatched it from him out of curiosity, but refrained.

“It’s the truth, plain and simple,” she countered. Footsteps and loud talking echoed above them, and both young pilots glanced at the ceiling. Jaina guessed that the animated conversation between her brothers and father had something to do with their own analysis of the ‘memorandum’, as the Solo’s had taken to calling it.

He shook his head, still not looking at her. He lounged comfortably in her father’s flowform chair, apparently not at all ill-at-ease with his captivity and guest-like status in the Solo home. That irked Jaina. Terribly.

Her grandmother’s words echoed around inside her head. Whether it was the proximity to her detainee or their sudden time alone together, the thought was thrust on her suddenly. ''He is probably the most disciplined soldier you’ll ever meet, but he is still a man. And you, Jaina Solo, are much prettier than you realize.''

She winced inwardly, the very thought paining her. She couldn’t do that. It just wasn’t in her to be so…unnecessarily flirtatious. Sure, casual flirting she had no problem with. Yet somehow the thought of invoking those kinds of feelings in Fel, let alone expressing them herself, was unimaginable.

''I know him, and he isn’t made of durasteel. He responds to family and loyalty. Go talk to him about your mother, about how she’s fought and worked her whole life to build this galaxy up and now it’s abandoned her. Cry. He’ll help you…You’re a Skywalker. You can do anything. Now go and save your mother.''

Jaina closed her eyes and pictured her mom. She had felt the darkness she had plunged headfirst into. She had tried to believe Luke, but it hadn’t worked. She was too in tune with Leia. And the truth of it was, the dark side had consumed her. If Leia wasn’t freed from the Baci soon, there would be no more hope. Jaina would never get her mother back. And Han would despair for the rest of his days, which would probably be short since in all likelihood he would drink himself to death.

She glanced at Fel. He wasn’t a bad sort, she supposed; just a little stiff around the edges. Maybe if she pretended it was all for real, it wouldn’t be so hard. Because in the end they really did need that army.

“The foundation of this Republic is the blood of my parents, my uncle. This isn’t easy for us, you know, to turn our back on it all. If we didn’t believe it, if we didn’t need it, this kind of action would have never taken place,” she whispered, putting as much melancholy in her tone as possible.

He glanced up from his work for the first time and met her eyes. “I understand that. But it can’t be my problem.”

Jaina sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She kept her eyes on his face and tried her very hardest to forget that he was her hostage. There was no denying he was handsome, even if he was irritating. “I know. And I mean it when I say that I’m sorry you were dragged into this.”

She caught a flicker of surprise. “Then why did you do this to me? You’ve torn me from my family, my career, everything. And after what you plan for me to do, none of it will be there for me to go back to.”

It was the most sincere and insecure things she had ever heard him say. All of a sudden, just like that, his guard was down.

Jaina swallowed. “Jag…I never meant to hurt you. And I don’t want your life to be ruined over this. I only know that my family, my world, is ripping apart at the seams. My mother—who’s always been the epitome of tact and self-control—has done the unthinkable. She’s chosen the fate of my grandfather. If she can’t be brought back, there’s no telling how far we’ll have to go to stop her. I can’t let her be alone with her pain and anger any longer than necessary.

“My dad is dying inside over it. If he doesn’t find hope soon, I’m afraid of what he’ll do to himself. The whole galaxy is in peril. Everything my family has worked so hard to achieve will be dashed in less than a year if we can’t get help.” I was surprisingly easy to cry, she realized as two tears fell gently down her face.

She could almost see his resolve cracking. Now, for the final blow. “Please…I need your help.”

He continued to stare at her, jaw set and eyes pained. Indecision still lurked there. What could she do? She had to somehow tip the scales in her favor. ''…but he is still a man. And you, Jaina Solo, are much prettier than you realize.'' Hesitant, she laid her hand softly on his knee and let another tear slide across her cheek. “Please, Jag. You’re my only hope.”

He stared at her, then at her hand and the thumb that gently caressed the fabric under it. She could feel the conflict inside him. Her heart both soared and plummeted. “I swore an oath…” he began softly, keeping his eyes averted.

“I know,” she whispered, praying to the Force her grandmother could somehow be so wise. “But I need you so badly.”

Suddenly he looked up, and she realized with a start how close his face had come to hers during the short conversation. And, for a split second, she thought he might kiss her. She closed her eyes.

“Jaina! Wedge just commed and he’s being swamped with pledges—” at the sound of Anakin’s voice they jerked away from each other so hard someone might have thought a concussion grenade had went off between them.

Jaina jumped full to her feet, wiping her tears and turning wide-eyed in the direction of his voice. “What?”

Anakin appeared in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. “Wedge! He just commed Dad and said that there are commanders and soldiers and pilots all through the military already calling to pledge their support to us! Even Admiral Kre’fey! We did it, Jaina!”

She became suddenly lightheaded with happiness. Somehow she ended up on the other side of the couch and in her little brother’s arms. “Oh, Anakin! This is more than we could have hoped for.”

“I know,” he agreed, embracing her fiercely. “Now we actually have a chance of saving Mom.”

She pulled back, smiling and crying at the same time. “We have a chance.”

“More than a chance.” Brother and sister turned as one to face Jag Fel, who looked distraught but resolute. He spoke to them both, but his eyes were on Jaina. “My life was destroyed from the moment that ship lifted off Csilla. There’s no reason yours has to be too. I’ll do what you ask.”