Hoth Sucks

Hoth sucks.

You already knew this, though. Everyone knows this. You didn't join the Imperial Academy to serve here. Sure, "Long live the Emperor!" and all that. But on an abandoned ice rock in the ruins of a Rebel Base which they abandoned at first sight of a Walker? What glory is there in that?

You had assumed your high scores in the academy would get you an exciting post.  Not necessarily at the front lines of the war, but certainly not behind even the rear-guard.  Even Dantooine would have been fine - a Rebel base abandoned long before the Imperials ever landed there.  At least you would have been warmer there.  But that base had been searched and searched again for a Rebel cache - surely the Rebels would have left something to return to; yet nothing had been found.

That was the idea here, too.  The Rebels had evacuated so quickly they must have forgotten something.  It was inevitable.  That was why you’d been sent.  Of all your scores, forensics had been your highest mark.  But while you’d pictured an exciting life of spycraft, like the holograms you’d grown up seeing, the truth was much plainer.  Spies are basically crime investigators, but the crime is “being the enemy”.

Unfortunately, the attack had destroyed so much of the base there was little but rubble to investigate.  Though the heart of the base had been restored, many of the deeper corridors remained collapsed.   You'd been here for almost a year and uncovered very little.  You were getting antsy, and more than a little tired of the blue fingertips that marked just about everyone who lived here.  But higher-ups see your presence as something valuable.   There’s a lot of prestige in store for them in overseeing a major discovery, even if that means grinding you to dust.  But is there really anything to find?

Hoth sucks.

You raise the spoon to your lips and sip at the soup.  At least the food’s hot.  You feel the warmth go down your throat and into your stomach.  General Veers continues his point, though it’s the same he’s been making for months.  “We have to get off this ice cube.  This corner of the galaxy has resources worth gathering, but Hoth doesn’t have them.  If we could get our hands on some orbital stations, we could use this system as a staging area without being so damn cold all the time.”

You nod along with the other officers.  Hoth is on the Hyperspace route that goes through Anantapar, Bendeluum, and newly occupied Bespin.  Taul and its metal mines isn’t too far away, either.

One of Veer’s aides speaks up, “We shall send a message to Coruscant, detailing the supplies needed and the benefits to the Empire.” 

“Don’t bother Coruscant.” Veers waved a brown-gloved hand.  Send it to Grand Moff Koda on Tokmia.  At least then if he refuses we’ll find out before we die of old age.”  There was laughter around the table.

Veer’s turns to Colonel Bucko, who looks down at his monitor.  “Everything else seems to be in order.  Morale seems high.  Our exploration of the Rebel base continues,” he looks up at you, “and continues to reveal nothing yet.”  His gaze tightens,  “Surely you tire of your lack of progress?”

You’re used to such jabs by now.  Bucko derives his importance from his command, but you make no such equation.  There are so many reasons people join the military.  Some for purpose, some for validation, some for bloodlust, some for structure.  Some, like Bucko, enjoy the domination.  And when they aren’t on the front lines, they find others to conquer.

“If there’s nothing to find, that is also valuable information.” You say, keeping your voice level so you don’t sound defensive. “If the Rebels are able to, without much warning, completely evacuate a whole base of all personnel and supplies, then that is absolutely crucial information to have.  If that’s the case, then when we find their new base, we will need to prioritize interception over assault.”

“Aah, how fortunate for you,” Bucko sneers, his gruff voice rising in mockery.  “You find nothing and yet still complete your mission.  Interesting.”

“I did not say that,” you interject.  “We still have a lot of the base left to uncover, and it’s pretty easy to imagine the rear of the base being where supplies were left over.

“I prefer to deal with reality – not my imagination.”

“Then keep digging,” Veers chimes in, shooting a hard glance to Bucko, says,  “Next item.” You force a smile.  Same old story.

When the meeting was done, General Veers stands, quickly followed by everyone else at the table.  You salute along with everyone else, holding it until Veers reciprocates.  After a moment he says “Long live the Emperor!”, which is quickly echoed around the room.  Then, he crisply turns around and walks out, trailed by his aides and Bucko.  Everyone relaxes at his absence.  You walk towards Captain Janus.  You’ve always found it easier to talk to people of the same rank.

“Hell of a meeting,” she says before you can speak.
“It almost makes me want to just go outside and wait for death.”
“I wouldn’t stop you.”  She says, winking a green eye at you.
“Thanks for your consideration.”  You both walk out the door.  “You understand why this investigation needs to be done, right?”
“Of course,” she answers.  “I do hope you find something, really.  It would certainly liven things up here.”
“But even finding nothing is valuable information.”
She scoffs.  “Good luck convincing the General that nothing is something.  That isn’t the kind of results he’s hoping for.”
“Damn ambition.” You mumble.
“Where would we be without it?”  She replies.
“Further than we are now.”
She stops and turns to you, pointing a finger in your face.  “When it’s counter to your goals, ambition is an obstacle.  But if this whole base was under your control, your ambition would be the fuel that drove your investigation forward.”  She lowers her finger, its blue tip contrasting with its natural tan color. “That’s the use of ambition.  Rise up, get power, rein it to your own purposes.  But expect everyone to question you like you questioned them.”
You consider what she says, but she continues before you can respond, “Just climb.  Anyway, see ya.” She turns down the corridor towards her quarters

***

Every week, every trooper must spend two hours digging through the rubble of Tango.  It’s the most you’ve gotten done in the way of harnessing the manpower of the base.  But when Veers gives, he also takes.  Anything found is to be reported back to Colonel Bucko’s lackey, Major Mukherje.  If Hoth’s barrenness makes Bucko cruel and vindictive, it just makes Mukherje lazy.  Even if something were reported of note you doubt it would reach Bucko’s desk.  Even if it did, you strongly suspect it would never reach yours.

The next day, you check the assignments, marking down the names of the people who did their shovel shift the previous day into your datapad.  Then you go to the mess hall.  You find room at one of the officers’ tables near the back and watch the people come in and out.  That you zone out is not that unusual.  The officers’ table has the most vapid conversation of all.  Anything important is kept to secure channels.  Here, the talk is simply about public news and personal letters.  Commander Sodarb’s twin had recently given birth.

You see one of your marks come in.  You wait for him to sit, then join him at his table.  Even under your clothes, the bench is cold as ice.  The benches at the officers’ tables are covered in Tauntaun fur.

“Nothing,” He says, knowing why you’re there.
“We both know it isn’t nothing.”
“Nothing, truly!”  Then he sighs.  “A few torn labels and some empty cartons with traces of bacta.”
“And you were in hall section EB7.23, yes?”
He nods.  You plug the information into your datapad.
“OK – thanks for your time.”

“Admiral Piett?”  You hear someone say as you return to your seat.
“Yes, just came over the news.  Piett’s making a victory lap visit to the whole parsec region.
“I served with Firmus in academy.”  Captain Rowlkein chimed in.  “Grim chap.  He didn’t even laugh much back then.”
“So is the Executor making the rounds, too?”
Someone spits on the floor, “No, he’s flying a TIE fighter from system to system.”
“I’ve always wondered what kind of shadow the Executor makes.”
“He won’t stop here.  Who’s he going to give his speech to, the Wampas?”

Another mark.  You go to them, careful not to step on the slowly freezing saliva.

“Olm!”  You hail.  They wave back.  Private Olm Ness is one of the few people on Tango who seems to genuinely like talking to you.
“Take a seat.  I found something you’ll be interested in.”
Olm had been piling the debris to one side to clear up the corridor.  They’d dropped one of the rocks, and the floor made a strangely hollow sound.  “So I go down to my knees, yeah?  Then I went prone.  I saw a small line on the floor.  I pried it open.  Only blackness.  I tossed a rock down there and it hit ground pretty quickly.”  You feel your eyes light up.  Olm smiles widely.  “I knew you’d be glad!”
“Did you tell Mukherje yet?”
Olm scoffs.  “Why bother?  I need to go down first.  If nothing’s down there, he’ll berate me for wasting his time.  And anyway,” their smile returned to their face, “I’ll need a second, down in the dark.”

That evening you meet Olm in Tango’s cantina.  Turning the old Echo Base Command Center into a room of leisure is a nice touch, another reminder of the failing Rebellion.  The central computer has a bar overlaid it and speakers above play the latest thumping tune popular among Imperial citizens.

The two of you leave and they show you down to the collapsed hallway in question.  They get down on the ground and pry the panel off the floor.  They crack a light stick pulled from their belt and toss it down.  The blue light reflects brightly off the snow.

The two of you go down.  Standing on firm ground reaffirms what you had suspected – this space must be part of the original design.  Maybe older.  When Echo base was captured, it had already been built to Academy standards, with the ground covered in metal panels.  A reminder that technicians also rebelled.

They pick up the light stick and hold it up.  You crack your own stick, though it doesn’t help much.  Though the walls on either side are close enough you could touch both sides at once, the space beyond gives way to a tunnel in both directions.  It extends far beyond the reach of the light sticks.  The two of you walk slowly, breathing in the noticeably colder air, your breath tinged blue when you exhale.

“The walls are straight,” You observe.  You run a bare hand across them.  “They’re made of ice.”

“How does Tango stand with these tunnels under it?”  Olm asks.  “Where’s the foundation?”

“The tunnels only intersect sometimes.”  You say, pointing back to where you began.  “The corridor goes this way.  The tunnel crisscrosses it at that point.”  You stop walking.  “Olm, we should go back.”

“Go back?!”  They ask, “We just started!”

“Look, I don’t know about you, but I expected you had found a secret Rebel storage or something.  But we don’t have the tools for a big exploration.  We need to come back with something better than these lightsticks.  Maybe even a blaster.”

They considered for a moment.  “OK, how about this.  We turn around and walk down the other side of the tunnel a bit, too, then we go back.  OK?”

Olm turns and you lead the way back.  As you pass by it, you stop to examine the entry hole.  The panels around the hole are thicker, and impacted snow is wedged between.  You realize Olm hadn’t found just a loose panel, but an access panel.  For all you know, there are dozens strewn around Tango base.

You look down to see the silhouette of Olm standing at the end of the hall immuninated by their own light stick.  “Wait up!”  You shout, and dash after them.  Olm turns around, but suddenly their light goes out, and you hear a cry.  You stop short, skidding on the frozen dirt.    You hear Olm’s voice shouting.  At the edge of where your light reaches you see a creature on all fours, smashing something on the ground.  Your mouth goes dry.

“Stupid thing, come on.”  Suddenly blue light erupts from ahead of you, and the shadows make way for Olm, on the ground, hitting their light stick on the ground.  “Got it!”  They shout.  You begin laughing.

“Olm,” you gasp.  “I thought something had gotten you.”

“Gotten me?”  They asked.  “Like what?”

“A wampa or something.  I don’t know.  I just.  Whew.”  You catch your breath, wiping freezing tears from your face.  “It’s fine.  Don’t worry.  But now you see?  We need something more reliable than these light sticks.”

“Yeah,” they say, getting up and walking back to the hole.  You both clamber out, replace the access panel, and retire to your rooms.

Sleep is when you get your best thinking done, so it’s a shame that you’re too excited to get any.  Finally, after tossing and turning interrupted only by brief bouts of dozing off, you decide to get up an hour early.  There’s no point lying in bed with your mind like this.  You go to the gym to start your day.  A few reps of weights, some cycling, all topped off by a hot drink, will get your body up to your mind’s speed.  As the morning dawns, others join you at the officers’ table.

“Another Death Star?”
“It’s like the Emperor only understands might.  How are we supposed to govern – through fear, alone?  I’d like to retire somewhere one day, you know.  What are we gonna do, blow up every system the Rebels might hide in?”
As you take a drink of your tea, you wonder where the tunnel might lead to:  A secret Rebel cache of supplies.  Forgotten plans.  A hidden rear-guard.  All three?
“Well, if we’re getting another, maybe we can convince him to blow up Hoth.  Alderaan was a nice place!  But Hoth sucks.  Let’s blow it away and save everyone the trouble of avoiding it.”
“One thing at a time.  First, let’s make sure this Death Star is safer than the first one.”
“How’d they get the first one again?”
“Lucky shot into one of the exhaust ports.” You say.  You’d studied it extensively in academy.  While no one wanted to admit it was luck, the port was hardly two meters why.  What other credible explanation existed?
“Well let’s eliminate those.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” someone else says, “Even something as small as a TIE needs exhaust ports.  But they don’t need to be so exposed.  We could add some defenses around it.”
“You say that as if turbolasers didn’t harass every Rebel that went down that trench.”
“Then let’s get creative.  Make a gravity well.  The Death Star is big enough to produce its own gravity anyway.”
“That’s much too risky,” You respond.  “If any Rebel gets aboard they can turn the well against the base itself.  And that’s ignoring the danger of malfunction.”  The lack of imagination was at times astonishing.
“Then something else.  I don’t care how they do it.  But if we’re gonna keep building superweapons, they shouldn’t be so dangerous.”

You see Captain Janus stand up with her tray, and quickly you stand up and walk over to her. “Come to the commissary with me, Janus?”
Sliding the waste from her tray down the garbage chute she says.  “You’re lucky.  I’m going that way anyway.”
In the empty hallway you tell her what you’ve found.
“Bucko won’t want to hear it from me, but he respects you.  You keep his TIEs nice and shiny.  Won’t you at least take a look?”
She shakes her head, “I’m not getting involved.  I’ve got my career to consider.  Bucko’s my best chance off-planet.  Hoth sucks, and if I need to stay in this system I at least want on that orbital.”  You look at her pleadingly, but she presses on.  “My hands are tied.  My parents need the money.”

There are so many reasons people join the military.  Some for purpose, some for validation, some for bloodlust, some for structure.  But some just join for the steady paycheck.

“Oh, come on.”  You wave off her concerns as if they were Logaher beetles.  “He isn’t going to demerit you for this.  You get paid the same whether you’re here or there,” You nod your head upwards.
She stops.  “I said no.  It ain’t happening.”
You try a different angle, “But we might find something real big.  Don’t you want to be a part of - Oh shit.  Here he comes.”  She turns around to see him.  You both stiffen to salute.
Bucko bellows your name from down the hall.  “Distracting my captain, are you now?”
“Sir, no sir!”  Outside the meeting, you must be deferential.
“Then what is this?”
“Sir, just a chance meeting outside the commissary.  She’s coming, I’m going, sir!”
“Captain Janus,”
“Yes, sir?”
“Walk with me.  I was just going to inspect one of our wings.”
“Yes sir.”  She turns to you, her eyes both apologetic and clearly relieved.

That evening you find Olm at the access panel.  “I was only able to get a few lights.  Sorry.”  They open their hand to reveal a handful of light sticks.  You laugh.
“You forget, I’m an officer.”  You throw your grey backpack to the ground and kneel down, your uniform barely keeping the cold off your knees.  You lay out the contents of your bag.  “Here, we got a few lanterns, two blasters, some rope, a hook and,” you shake your datapad, “a map file.”
“You found a map of the tunnels?”
You look up, letting your disbelief show, “No, you idiot.  A map of Tango.  We can overlay the tunnels to see how they intersect.  I have a feeling there are access panels all over the place.”  You push two lanterns and a blaster forward, “Here, take these.”
They hook the lanterns to their belt and click the blaster.
“Did you just set yours to kill?”
“Yeah.”
“Set it back.  If we do find anyone, we’ll want to question them.  But I’m not so hopeful about that.”
You throw the backpack back on, hopping down the hole.  You turn your lantern on.  It shines far down the hallway, bright yellow light bouncing off the icy walls.  The light reveals a corner several meters down.  Turning the corner, the tunnel continues into the darkness.

“Hold on,” you say.  “Before we go anywhere, let’s secure this rope.”  You take the hook and press it firmly into the floor, then you tie the rope to it.  After a few tugs, you’re satisfied.
“What’s the rope for?” Olm asks.
“So we don’t get lost.  If something happens to us, no one’s gonna come for us.”

The rope’s cold in your hand as you uncoil it behind you.  You feel the ground crunching slightly below your feet.  Your breath comes out in yellowed puffs before fading away in front of you.  After turning a few corners, your bag starts beeping. “Hold on,” you say “We’re under another cooridor.”  You pull out your datapad and silence the sound. “I had it trace our location.  There should be another access panel nearby.”  You start wiping away the frost from the ceiling, “Help me out.”
“Oh, here it is!”  Olm exclaims soon after.  “Hell, that metals even colder than the snow! Here, let’s pus-“

Almost automatically you find yourself tackling them to the ground.  “Hey, what the-”

“We don’t know who’s up there,” you whisper harshly.  “What would you do if someone just popped out of a hole in the ground?  You’d shoot first and ask questions later.  We’ll check it out from above when we can.”  You tap datapad to mark the map, then put it away.  “You could have just said so,” Olm says, wiping their uniform as they stand up.

The tunnel turns again, and then again.  “We should head back.  This rope won’t last much longer,” you say to Olm.  “We already have one good lead.  And we can walk down the other side of the tunnel, too.”

“Hold on,” they say.  “Stand here.  I’m gonna go down as far as I can before I lose sight of you.  Oh, and don’t worry, no wampa is gonna get me,” they chuckle as they walk away.

You take a seat and dig into your backpack, pulling out a small stack of wafers.  You let it thaw in your mouth before you can chew it.  While you wait, you look at the map again.  The tunnel has taken you far beyond Tango’s perimeter – farther even than the old Echo base, according to the battle reports.  Whatever you’ve found, it’s old.  But tunnels like this don’t occur naturally…

You hear your name and look up.  “Hey come help me with this!”  You can hardly see them, and their voice doesn’t carry well in the snowy tunnel.  You bring the rope with you, but it tightens after a few meters.  With a grunt you force a light stick in the ceiling and into the floor, and leave the rope where it is.

“This is a door!”  Olm points when you get close enough.  “But the hinge is on this side, so it must pull, but there’s no handle.  Can we wedge it?”
Looking through your bag you find nothing thin enough to be slid into the door.  “Looks like we’ll need to come back.”
“Like Hutt we are!  We’re so close, come on!”
“It’s been down here for probably years,” you say.  “It isn’t going anywhere.”
“But what could be behind it?  I won’t be able to think of anything else.”
“Well you’re gonna have to.  I didn’t bring anything that will work.”
Olm glances around the hallway as you begin repacking.  You see him look at his blaster.  “Don’t even think about it.  We can’t have this tunnel collapse in on us.”
“Then hand me your pad.”  Olm says.
“Why?”
“The datapad might be thin enough.”
“No – even if it is, it’ll snap before it opens the door.”
“At least let me try.  I mean, it’s only fair, given that you tackled me.”
“That was because you-” You stop. No use getting defensive. You let out an annoyed sigh. “Then we can go back?”
“Yes.”
You hand them the datapad.  “Be careful.”  They slide it between the door and the wall.  They gingerly press on it, and a low creak is heard.
Olm says, “Get a lantern down there.  Get rid of some of that frost.”
The snow begins to melt away, and you see the door moving.  “OK, here’s your map.  And you’re welcome for being so clever.  Now, help me pull this.”

The two of you pull on the door, edging it open.  The hinges squeal and one of them breaks.  This door hasn’t been used in ages.  The door falls into the room.  The lower hinge hangs on, and the door bounces slightly a foot or so off the ground.  The two of you crawl under the door, lanterns up.  You see what looks like a control room.

“Well hot damn!” Olm shouts.  “This must be more Rebel stuff.”
“How much of a base must be down here?” You wonder aloud.
“Let’s check it out!”

The two of you enter, taking a closer look at the find.  The computers are off and don’t respond to any attempts to turn them on.  Most of the keys are completely frozen.  The lantern melts away the frost, but the keys still don’t respond.

There’s a doorway on the other side of the room, but the door is open.  Though you’ve heard no voices, you bring your blaster up as you walk through, hooking your lantern to through a beltloop.

“Olm, cover me.”
“Oooo, I haven’t heard that since academy training!”

Through the doorway is an empty mess hall.  On the other side there are a few more rooms – they all have hologram projectors in the middle – and another hallway that reveals about a dozen bedrooms and facilities. “It’s all completely deserted,” Olm says, wandering.

Except the closets are bursting with supplies.  Food, weapons, cold-weather outfits, you name it.  Everything needed for a functioning base except people and power.  Most of the bedrooms have two or four bunkbeds, but one of the bedrooms is a luxury suite, at least comparatively.  The words RA NA are written on the door.  It also has a console in the corner, and a few power cells in the closet.

You take the power cell and place it into the console.  It boots up, asking for identification and password.  Too easy.  “Yes, my name is General Reikann, ranking commander of Echo Base.  Password:  Alderaan.”  Rebels are always so sentimental.

“Access denied.  Shutting down.”  The console goes black.  You have no idea if the password is wrong, the identification, or both.  You tap the keys, but nothing happens.  Must be on lockdown.  Standard anti-espionage technique.  You can try again in about an hour.  You take the power cell and leave the room.  Seeing RA NA on the door as you leave, you consider it unlikely General Reikann ever used that room.  You’d need another name.

Back in the mess hall you see Olm going through cabinets.  “Don’t make a mess,” you implore.
“Hey, most of this food is expired.  My grandfather used to hoard food.  I haven’t seen an expired label since I was a kid.  Even the dry stuff, and that stuff lasts decades.”  They smile as your face shows surprise.  “I figured a spymaster like you would have noticed how weird that is already.”
“I didn’t look yet.” You snap, though immediately you become annoyed at your own tone.  They’re just pushing your buttons.
“Maybe they’ll promote us off this rock for finding this place.”
“Olm, we can’t tell anyone.”  Their face drops, “Not right away, I mean.  We need to do some more looking around.  A Rebel base right under our feet is a bit worrisome.”
“An abandoned base,” they correct.
“No – a hidden base.  These supplies are too well organized.  They mean to return.”

You go to the hologram projector in the mess hall and put the power cell in it.  The projector buzzes with life and a projection appears before you.  The man in front of you wears a cloak.  “Welcome to Hoth, General.  You will find everything you need for a resistance in this desolate planet.  It’s a big world in a big galaxy.  The Empire can’t be everywhere at once.  While I do what I can in the Senate, you need to organize this sector.  Since you made it this far, I trust my contact has put you in touch with traders and smugglers sympathetic to our cause.  Obviously, we can no longer communicate directly.  Your time in the Senate is at an end, General.  Politics can only delay the growing might of our Emperor.  It is up to you to stop him.

“You will find my old room stocked with datadisks.  They will each help you create a support web from which you can foment dissent.  We must inspire a movement.  No rebellion is successful without the will of the people.  This is a desperate hour for us all.  May the Force be with you.”  The man bows and the hologram disappears.

The hologram disk noisily ejects completely from the projector and lands at your feet.  You bend to pick it up, but even before you touch it you can feel it’s heat;  Too hot even to be comforting on Hoth.  You hold it at eye level, but a moment later it starts to spark and, realizing what’s happening, you drop it before it self-destructs in your face.  On the ground, the hologram disc begins to emit smoke, before jumping slightly off the ground, landing in two pieces.  Whoever was meant to see that hologram obviously never did.

“Well that was weird.”  You hear a voice behind you.
“You watched it, too?”
“Yeah.  The Senate hasn’t been around for years.  Whoever that old guy was, he’s long gone I bet.  That would explain the expired food, I guess.”
“It’s only been a few years.”
“Good point.”
“Nonetheless, there are lots of holograms down here to go through, apparently.  I’m sure they’ll make other references we can use to determine when this was all prepared – and by whom.  And for whom.  I wonder what General he meant.”  You stand up straight, “I’m glad you saw this one – I don’t know who would believe me if I didn’t have a witness.  This is really crazy stuff.”

Checking the time, you realize you’ve been gone longer than you intended.  “We should get back.  Thanks for coming, Olm.  I’ll bring a recorder droid next time, so you don’t get accused of being AWOL.  But please don’t tell anyone.  Not yet.”
“But you’ll mention me when you do report this?”
“Of course!  You’ll get your due, I promise.”
Olm eyes you warily in the dim light.
“What kind of promise do you want?”
Silence.
“Olm!”
“I’m thinkin’, I’m thinkin’.”
More silence.  You start to gather your things.  You pull out the map, to make sure it tracked you correctly.  If you’re coming alone next time, you definitely don’t want to get lost.
“Come on, let’s go.”
You duck under the door first, and Olm follows you out.  You find the rope and light sticks you left behind and put the light sticks away.  As you retrace your steps back, you coil the rope around your arm.  The distance seems much shorter than when you first came out.
“Hey, remember that time you thought a wampa had gotten me down here?”
“Yeah,” you say, chuckling.
“That’s the promise.  If you don’t tell people I was with you, I’ll tell ‘em you were scared over nothing.”
“OK.  That’s acceptable.”  More than acceptable.  You would have snuck Olm officer rations for a month if it would have kept them quiet.  This is easy.  You like Olm, but they’re a simple person.  You’ll buy them a few rounds in gratitude anyway, once this is over.

***

R5 follows the instructions on the map inserted into it.  It’s white light fills the tunnel so brightly you need to ask that it dim itself.

When you return to the base, you find the door now lies on the frozen ground.  The lower hinge must have broken off during the night.  Gravity never sleeps.  R5 follows you to Ra Na’s room.  The room lights up, the frost reflecting the light nicely.

“OK, get ready to record.  Let me know when your systems are up.”  The droid begins to hum while you look at the hologram projector.  Whatever message is waiting, it was never found.  Until now.

You’d already pondered the possibilities last night.  Sleep is a wonderful thing.  And, just as you had hoped, you dreamed.

Dreams, of course, were just a manifestation of anxiety and wishes and the day’s events, but you’d occasionally found them insightful.  Your dreams were never predictive; but they were mold-breaking.  They helped you see new opportunities.  Perspectives on situations you had not considered before.  It was one of the things that helped you succeed as an investigator.  You were able (and, moreover, willing) to see things others could not.

Last night you dreamt of Ra Ga, a Rebel sympathizer, who coordinated secret bases all over the galaxy.  Hoth had one.  Dantooine had one, and Yavin IV.  Alderaan had had one.  Even Coruscant had one.  Some were broadcasting messages of dissent.  Some were supplying local resistance.  Some were jamming Imperial messages.  In any case, in your dream you uncovered one after the other after the other.  Their safe-havens overturned, the Rebels laid down their cause.  You were a hero of the Empire.

R5-91’s beeps interrupt your reflection.  A radar dish protrudes from the droid’s dome, and some indicator lights were on that weren’t before.  You insert the power cell into the hologram projector, pushing until you hear a satisfying click.  The hologram machine whirrs.  A blue cone of light pours out of the projector, but no message appears.  You see R5 through the sea of blue light, who lifts itself on its legs, as if to shrug.  Cautiously you touch the eject button, but nothing comes out.  You begin searching the closets.

You’d never tell anyone your dream – they’d laugh at the obvious ambition.  But the idea of a string of secret bases – that was new.  General Veers and his ilk thought like the military commanders they were, but the Rebels were not a military unit.  That much was clear from the message.  That’s not how they thought of themselves, so it’s not how they’d organize themselves.

A series of secret bases suggested they were playing a waiting game.  While the Empire sought to engage the Rebels in a crushing military defeat, such a goal was impossible.  As Hoth itself suggested, the Rebels would just flee.  They didn’t feel the need to fight.  They only meant to survive.  What are they waiting for?  The Empire is only getting stronger.

You eventually find a closet full of drawers with datadisks, all labeled and in alphabetical order.  Ra Na was in no rush when he put this base together, that was clear.

You grab a case of disks labeled “MN”.  Most of the cases are two letters, though a few are single.  There are several cases labeled “S”.  The strangest you see is XZ.  Apparently Y is worth its own case.  Your heartbeat races as you realize the depth of the mystery you have uncovered.  You return to the hologram projector and R5.

What are they waiting for?  And answer had occurred to you at breakfast, while the others were talking about if there were any planets worse to be stationed on then Hoth (Burbank had said Bespin, but only because of his fear of heights).  The Rebels might be trying to outlive the Emperor.  Death eventually comes for everyone.  And it is unclear who would take his place.

Vader?  Darth Vader does not command the respect of the core worlds like the Emperor does.  The Emperor brought an end of the Clone Wars.  While the Emperor demands harsh action when the military encounters any resistance, Vader is well-known for lashing out even at his own commanders.  His political legitimacy would be questionable, at best.

What about Admiral Piett?  The military might support the raising of one of their own, but Piett commands even less respect in the core worlds than Vader.  To them, he’s just a warrior, if they know his name at all.  The Empire is more than its military.  He’d never be able to command the political bureaucracy of the governors.

With succession uncertain, the Rebels very well could be positioning for that moment.  In fact, it was hard to find a better explanation for their hit-and-run tactics.  The attack on the Death Star was the exception, not the rule.

You kneel in front of the hologram projector.  You open the MN case and grab one container labeled “Mon Mothma.”  There are a few disks in it.  You grab one and hold it up to the projector.  “Still recording?”  R5 affirms with a beep.  You slide it into the projector.

The still image of a woman appears, and rotates like it would in any encyclopedia datadisk.  But the toneless narrator of encyclopedias has been replaced by the booming voice of Ra Na.  “Mon Mothma is the Senator from Chandrila.  She is very sympathetic to our cause, and will be a powerful ally.  She is assertive and eloquent, but she possesses no battle training nor any inclination to learn.  However, she understands the importance of meeting might with might.  If Chandrila is near your system, set up hidden channels of communication with her.  She will assist with logistics in any way she can.”  Then the disk popped out.  You reach for it and toss it toward the wall.  Even touching it only briefly, your fingers are quite hot.  You put them in the snow at your knees and watch the datadisk smoke, spark, and then break in two.

R5 whistles.  “I know, right?”  You say.  You grab another datadisk.  “OK, keep recording, we got a lot of these to get through.”

You go with R5 again and again during that week, hoping to absorb as much information as you can before the next scheduled officer’s meeting.  The spy network set up by the Rebels is vast.  Much larger than you had been taught in the academy.  It appears as if the Rebels have allies on every system.  Senators all the way down to smugglers.  Having grown up in the core worlds you had always thought the Alliance was a fringe operation, but it wasn’t.

Or, at least, it hadn’t been.  You remind yourself that these files are over 20 years old.  They had clearly been created in the year or so following the formation of the Empire.  Many of the file cases had been about the Jedi who purportedly survived the purge.  One was named Yoda (The entirety “Y” file was dedicated to him) hiding somewhere beyond the rim (The hologram never said where, unfortunately).  Another, Kenobi, tasked with hiding “One of our most important assets”.  There was an especially large file on Skywalker, who had apparently died in Darth Vader’s attack on the Jedi Temple.  Those files were relatively useless, though.  Darth Vader had hunted down and destroyed the Jedi in the years following the formation of the Empire – every school kid knew that.  That this Kenobi and Yoda should die last is of little concern.

And indeed, it seemed plausible that the Alliance had been reduced as the years went on.  When you looked up Alderaan, Ra Na mentioned it was his home.  Who knew how many hidden supplies and been blown away with it, or secret contacts had been frightened into hiding.

You end up discovering so much that you decide your discovery cannot wait until the next officers’ meeting.  Calling General Veers, you speak with his secretary and make an appointment for the next day.  There’s nothing ever really happening on Tango.  You’re a little surprised he can’t see you that very day, but then he doesn’t appear at dinner, either.  Something is keeping him busy.

At the officer’s table the mood is different, too.  No one was in a mood for small talk.  You learn, through hushed tones, that a report had surfaced about large spy unit of Rebels had infiltrated Imperial networks.  Though the plot was uncovered and many of the spies killed, It was impossible to know for sure if the stolen information ever reached the Rebels.  Your discovery feels more and more urgent.

After dinner you go to the cantina to kick back.  Your meeting with Veers is in the late morning, so you can indulge yourself a little.  You find a couch to lean back on, sipping your favorite.

Janus interrupts your mood.  She sits down next to you.  “I haven’t seen you looking so satisfied in a long time.  Maybe ever?”
“My little adventure has paid off.  I am still sorry you turned me down.”
“I am not.  I don’t want to be involved.”
“Then don’t be.”  Did she just come to rustle your feathers?
She takes a long sip of her drink, then turns to face you. “But we are friends.  I’ll tell you this.  You’ve been sloppy.  People are talking.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing!”
Olm…
“It’s you!  You’ve stopped asking everyone about what they find after their shovel shifts.  No one really knows – and I‘ve said nothing – but we all know it.  Well, they all suspect it.  I know it.”  She winks at you.
You take a moment to consider.  “Thank you for telling me.  You did not need to.  I appreciate you looking out for me.”
“You’re welcome.  See ya.”  She gets up and walks away.

What does it matter anyway?  You swirl your glass and take a drink.  You already have a meeting set up with the General.  If he had already found out, he would have confronted you already.

The best piece of evidence you have that there are bases all over the galaxy was the hologram on Mon Mothma.  Ra Na had said “If Chandrila is near your system,” but Chandrila is nowhere near Hoth.  Chandrila is farther away even than Couruscant.  That meant the datadisks had been mass-produced.  Finishing your drink, you stand up and let your body bounce to the heavy thumps.

Olm comes up to you, almost nose-to-nose.  “Hey, my good friend!”  They yell in a way that immediately tells you their state of mind.  “Tell me, when will we be heroes?  I have kept my end of the bargain.  I was thinking we should charge people to come see our tunnels.  We can make a nice profit from it and show off the desperation of the Rebels.  COME TO HO-”  They catch themselves, chuckle, and lean forward, putting their mouth to your ear.  “Come to Hoth.  See the frozen world the Rebels dared called home.”  They lean back, smirking.  “Catchy?”
“Yeah, I’m sure that will be approved.” You say, rolling your eyes.  “As it happens, I have a meeting with the General tomorrow.  I will tell him everything, and I will ensure you are given your due.”
“Aah, yes.  And 10% of the profits, hm?”
“Uhh, sure.”
“Now, now, don’t be stingy.  Anyway.  I have a date, if I read the signs correctly.  I won’t be so cold tonight, eh!  Well, see you.  And.”  They raise their glass shakily, “Long live the Emperor!”  You repeat their toast and down your glass, relieved to see them stumble away.  You go to the bar to refresh your drink, and get back to the music.

***

The next morning you are awoken by a pounding.  The world swirls as you get up.  It pounds again.  Blinking you look around, and realize the noise is not coming from your head, but the door.  It pounds a third time.

“Fine, what, hold on.  OK.”  You wonder what you mean as the words pour out of you.  You shake your body to wake yourself up and pull your robe around you.  You get to the door, which pounds again.  “Nerf herders, hold on.”  You open the door.  You see General Veers standing there, dressed all in uniform.
“I hear you wanted to see me.”  He says.
You snap suddenly to attention, though your robe opens a bit as you salute.  “Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir.  I thought our meeting was later today.  I must have misheard your secretary, sir.”
He salutes back, meeting you eye-to-eye.  “No misunderstanding.  Just a change of plans.”  He relaxes his stance, and you close your robe.  “We’re shoving off, most of the garrison.  Off to Endor.  But before we go I’d like to hear about your progress.  Rumors abound.”
“Ok.” You say dumbly.
The silence between you two thickens quickly.  General Veers says, “May I come in?”
“Oh, yes, umm, sorry.”  You’re still blinking yourself awake.  This is meeting is already off course.
General Veers sits down in the brown chair you have in the corner.  You go to your unmade bed, there being nowhere else to sit.  Suddenly, the impulse to clean up takes over, and you turn to make the bed.  “No need,” he says.  Torn between habit and orders, you will yourself towards obedience and sit down.  “Tell me what you’ve found.”

“I found a series of tunnels under Tango.  Old, impacted ground tunnels.  Among them I found an old Rebel base.  I found a large collection of datadisks, and from listening to them it seems the base was built when the Senate was still functioning.”
“So Echo Base was operating for almost a generation before we...”
“No, sir.  This is an old base, but it isn’t an abandoned base,” as the sleep clears from your mind, details return, “It’s too well stocked.  And the datadisks are set on a self-destruct protocol after being listened to.  They exploded after I listened to them. So we know no one heard them before.  Don’t worry, I brought a droid down to record them.  ”
Veers considers this.  “Who were they left for?  Who left them?”
“I don’t know.  Datadisks are narrated by someone I can only identify as Ra Na.  He addresses the disks to some General who served in the Senate.  Well, the introduction disk.  The other disks make very general references to planets and names.  I think they were mass-produced and distributed around the galaxy.”
“Ra Na….  Sounds like a Jedi name.”
“I thought so, too.  But no such name is in the records.”
“Public records.  Imperial records have more thorough information.  You should check those.  I’ll get you an access code.”
“Thank you, sir.”  You silently tighten your jaw, resisting the urge to say you already checked the Imperial records.  And with my own access code, thank you very much.
 General Veers rises, so you do, too.
“Captain, it seems you have made an important discovery.  Unfortunately for you, it’s a bit for naught.  We leave to smash the Rebels once and for all.”
“Sir, permission to speak freely?”
“Have you been holding back?”
“It’s just that the specifics of this base suggest to me there are many such bases spread throughout the Galaxy.  Any effort to engage the Rebels is in vain.  We can defeat them a dozen times, it doesn’t matter as long as these secret bases are around.  This one was never used, but who knows how many were?  We need to cut off their supplies and their support.  As long as they have these bases they will endure, and the war will go on.”
“I’m not the one you need to convince,” Veers firmly puts a gloved hand on your shoulder.  “I envy you, Captain.  I really do.  I just follow orders.  The Emperor calls me and my men to Endor and I don’t have a say in that.  My duty is to do the best I can with the troops I have.  I did well here.  I hope to do as well there.
“Your work is important.  More important than the others realize.  And I bet even if we defeat them at Endor, we’ll still need to chase down and snuff out these bases.  So maybe you’re right, in that way.  When it comes up with Piett, I’ll give him your name.”
It would be unwise to continue this argument.  You nod.  “Is that all?”  Veers asks.
“Oh.  Private Olm Ness.  They helped me find the base.  They were the one who found the first access panel to the tunnels, during one of their shovel shifts.  They deserve recognition, too.”
“Noble of you to bring them up.  Very well, I shall add their name to my report, when I get to it.”
You can’t help yourself, “When you get to…”
“Yes.  I told you.  We are leaving for Endor.  All other projects will get sidelined until we’re off.  But you’ve given me quite a bit to think about.  In fact, I think I see a way for us both to get what we want.  Get yourself cleaned up.  Officer meeting is in an hour.”  Veers turns and walks out.

As you walk down the silvery halls to the meeting, you can’t help feeling torn.  Hoth sucks.  You’ll be glad to be rid of it.  But Hoth is also your only clue to the larger scheme.  Ra Na’s base is by far the most important find of your career.  Being drawn away now undercuts all that.

Your only hope now is that General Veers keeps his word, and that after the battle he is able to lend the weight of his name to your mission.

You take a seat at the crowded table, across from Janus and Muhkerje.  Veers sits at the head, with Bucko next to him.  When everyone has arrived, Veers stands.

“We are evacuating this base.   The Rebels believe they have found a unique opportunity to strike a blow against the Empire, but it is we who will strike one against them.  They cannot hide from us forever.”  You resist rolling your eyes.  “Colonel?”

Bucko stands, “Listen up.  We’re done freezing our asses off here.  We’re taking the Tyrant and the  Avenger, and we intend to be off by nightfall.  First shuttles will bring up the walkers to those destroyers.  Janus, start moving the TIEs, but leave a squadron of bombers and a squadron of fighters.  We won’t leave the Starburn without light craft.”  Bucko looks up.  “Is that ion cannon fixed yet?”

“No, sir,” said one of the officers.

Bucko looks at you, “Alright.  Make that your first priority.  With only one Star Destroyer you’re a bit vulnerable.  The ion cannon will help.  Though personally I think the Rebels coming back here would be a long shot.”  My first priority…?

“Hamedry, you inspect the bunks as the troops pack up.    Have them lick the floor clean if needed – get their tongue stuck to the floor for all I care.  We need to leave a few platoons behind anyway.  Oh,”  Bucko says your name.  “Get those trenches fixed up, too.  You can have the men help you in your search, but remember,” he raises his voice to emphasize, “you are to hold this base if attacked.  Especially given what you already discovered, we don’t want the Rebels to be able to reclaim those supplies.”

Your mind is a swirl as Bucko gives everyone else evacuation duties, but returning to you occasionally to double-check some minutiae.  You hear your name again and look up,  “Worst case scenario, blow the damn place up.  Set charges ahead of time.”  But you’re not in demos.  Bucko is a jerk, but he’s nothing if not professional.  You thought you two shared a grudging respect of each other, but maybe…

Eventually, Bucko sits down.  Veers stands, but motions for everyone to stay seated.  “What we forgot to make clear, but must by now seems obvious, is that Tango has a new commander.”  He gestures towards you, smiling.  Then he whips the hand down and hits Bucko on the shoulder, who grunts.  “An innocent oversight, I’m sure.  Either way, as soon as my shuttle leaves the ground, command will transfer.  You will have full command of the couple dozen troopers who remain and the material Bucko already laid out.  Admiral Poddar will report to you from Starburn, though he'll maintain command on-deck.  Congratulations.”  There is brief applause around the room.  Janus smiles brightly at you and nods when your eyes meet.  “And now, to your duties.”  Those around the table stand and salute Veers, who salutes back.  The room echoes with “Long live the Emperor!”  Bucko and his other aids follow him out of the room.

You immediately gathering your things rush after them.  “Sir, sir!”

Bucko and Veers turn around.  Veers holds up a finger and leans back to his aides, whispering something.
“Sorry,” Bucko says.  “Things are happening so fast.  I forgot the General hadn’t made that clear before.”
“Sorry?”  You sputter out.  “That’s it – just sorry??!”
“What, want me to kiss your boot?”  His eyes blue flare up.  “I made a mistake.  But you’ve got your command.  Show some dignity.”  He sticks a finger in your chest, not quite making contact.
“Enough!”  Veers said, now back.  He swats Bucko’s finger away.  “An army of children sometimes.  Is that why you’re here, to harass my Colonel?  You’ve been given command.  I expect some gratitude.  This is a win-win.  You aren’t pulled away from your project, and I leave the base in competent hands.”  He turns suddenly and walks away.
“No.  I just.”  You take a deep breath as you jog to catch up with them.  “Thank you for trusting me with command.  I won’t let you down.  I just was wondering.  The orbital plat-”
“Everything has been sent to your datapad.  Move into my room and you can use the command console there, too.  Your duties are clear.  But no, the platform is being put on hold for now.  All attention is against the Rebels.  We can worry about trade routes later.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re on your own for now, Captain.  Use this time well.”
“And another thing,” Bucko says as you all enter the docking bay, “Private Olm Ness is staying here with you, too.  He will be told shortly.  Give him a promotion.  It will soften the blow of being stuck here.”
“A small promotion, to be clear.”  Veers adds, walking onto the ramp to his shuttle.  You stand at the bottom as he turns to you expectantly.  You snap into a salute.
Veers salutes back.  “Long live the Emperor,” Veers shouts as the engine roars to life.
“Long live the Emperor,” you respond as enthusiastically as you can.
“And keep this place warm for us, will ya?”  Bucko laughs as the ramp retracts.  Veers stand by quietly, though you swear you see a hint of a smile just as the doors close.  The wings descend as the shuttle takes off.  You watch it disappear into the atmosphere, willing it to explode.  But no such luck.

A command of your own, and it’s on this ice bucket.  Hoth sucks.

Copyright ©️ 2020 Maslow Stories

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I consider this story still a draft. I edit it occasionally. If you have any feedback for me, I'd love to hear it! Email me at armaslow@gmail.com. Please put "Star Wars Stories" in the subject line. Thank you!