Saga - ST Learning from the Enemy (post-Bloodline, pre-TFA)

I've recently finished Aftermath: Empire's End, and saw that the way it weaves threads towards TFA leaves some things unexplained. One of them is this: as late as Bloodline, neither the title "First Order" nor the name "Snoke" are known at large to the New Republic. In TFA, Leia knows Snoke has been influencing her son, and knows the name. This is my take on how that knowledge came to the Republic.

Timeline: Between Bloodline and TFA
Characters: Rae Sloane, Norra Wexley, Wedge Antilles
Relationships: Minor Norra Wexley/Wedge Antilles
Other: This is a one-shot. No continuation is intended.

LEARNING FROM THE ENEMY



Norra Wexley is taking a bath when her apartment door chime rings. It takes her sometime to even realize what it is—surprise visitors aren’t common. Mildly annoyed at the interruption, she throws on a robe and heads to answer. The newcomer rings several times, at very regular intervals.

When she opens, she has to look up. A two-meter tall black humanoid droid of an unfamiliar construction stands in front of her. “Are you Norra Wexley?” it asks in a tinny feminine voice.

“Yes.”

“Please submit DNA sample for confirmation.”

“What? No—”

“I must confirm you are Norra Wexley,” the droid states. Her memory flashes back years ago, to Mr. Bones. Still, she is not about to give a strange droid her blood.

“Why?”

“To deliver a message.”

“What sort of message?”

“I must confirm you are Norra Wexley before releasing any information.”

“Not interested. Good—”

A small panel in the droid’s chest snaps open and a blaster barrel pops out, pointing straight at her face. “I must deliver this message.”

“You can’t deliver it if you kill me.”

“I have set the blaster for stun. When you are unconscious, I will confirm if you are Norra Wexley. If you are not, I will leave you alone to search for the real Norra Wexley. If you are, I will place myself at your disposal.”

“I am Norra Wexley. But can this wait?”

“How long would you make me wait?”

Ten years, flashes through her mind, but it’s doubtful if this droid will appreciate a joke like that. Probably will just fire the blaster if the time exceeds the parameters it follows. “One hour.”

“Acceptable.”

“Well, come in,” she says, and closes the front door. “Stay here,” she orders, and returns to the living room, where she picks up her commpad. This is way too strange to take by herself.


***


Even though she assured him nothing was wrong, Wedge arrives within fifteen minutes in a manner that borders on abuse of power—he flies his X-Wing right up to their balcony and climbs out, before ordering his R5 unit to take the ship back to base. She wishes she could bring in Temmin, too, but he’s off-planet with his unit. She gives him a prolonged kiss the moment he takes off the flight helmet.

“What’s happened, dear?”

She explains. “What do I call, you, anyway?”

“I am CA-3,” the droid declares.

“Kathri,” Norra assembles the verbal version. The droid strolls into the living room. “Who is this?” she turns to Wedge.

“My husband. Any message you deliver to me, I will share with him anyway, so you might as well let him listen in.”

“That is acceptable. If you are really Norra Wexley.”

“Oh, well.” She snips off a few strands of her hair and hands them to the droid. The machine puts the material into its mouth.

Nothing happens for several moments. Then a pleasant chirp erupts from the droid. “You are Norra Wexley. Are you ready to hear the message?”

She looks at Wedge. He is relaxed, but he has not taken off the flight suit—which means his blaster is in easy reach. She sits down next to him on the couch and whispers in his ear, “This had better not be a prank by our friends—or by Temmin.” She turns to Kathri. “Alright.”

Another panel on CA-3’s chest reveals a holoprojector when it opens. A light beam from it materializes into a shimmering blue figure standing in their living room—and both of them tense up instantly, since they recognize the woman.

Imperial Grand Admiral Rae Sloane.


***


The figure is life-size—from what she knows of Sloane, it’s probably exactly life-size. The effect of the admiral being right in the room with them increases as she takes a few steps which are accompanied by minor sounds—footfalls on a hard floor, rusting clothes. Sloane is dressed much like the enemy she’d killed with Norra’s help, Councilor Gallius Rax, had been back then—a white dress uniform of a Grand Admiral, though she has no cape. Sloane takes off her uniform cap, revealing that her hair has gone white. The hologram zooms in on her face. The dark-skinned woman has taken no effort to make herself look younger than she is—and she is old. The eyes are lively, though, and her mouth bears a hint of a smile.

The projection zooms back out to a full-sized Sloane facing the two of them. “Norra Wexley,” she begins. “If you are listening to this, that means I am dead, and have been for some time.”

“Stop playback,” Norra orders the droid, who complies. “I don’t believe it.”

“You think it’s a lie?”

“No, I just—I’ve occasionally wondered what she went off to do—not enough to really try to find out. I expected it’d wonder forever. Apparently not.”

“Do you want to hear the details?”

She nods. “Resume.”

Sloane gazes ahead at them. “It also means that my attempt to wrestle control of the neo-Imperial forces in the Unknown Regions has failed. This is unfortunate; both my Empire and your New Republic would be better off if I became Empress.

“I have tried my best, over the years, to make my ideal of the Empire a reality. I believe I had some successes, but ultimately, that effort must be judged a failure, though I do not believe it is my fault. Until the battle of Endor, I never had a power base of my own from which to grow influence, and the tools I used were forged by the hands of Gallius Rax and Palpatine. They left stains too deep for me to rub out.”

Wedge frowns. “So they’ve been hiding out there all this time.”

Sloane resumes. “We found more than just a seed crystal set up as a contingency in case Palpatine’s Empire fell out here, though. We found—or were found by—a being capable of wielding the power of the Force, who called himself Snoke. He claimed to share our goals, and the Shadow Council was eager to use his abilities, and those of his trainees, the Knights of Ren, in our war against the Chiss Coalition. I voiced concerns, remembering Palpatine and Darth Vader, but was overruled.

“My concerns proved justified. When we won the war, I was appointed military governor of the newly conquered territories, and was put to the task of integrating the Chiss into the Empire. I see now that this was in order to keep me away from the central ruling body while Snoke rose and changed things. I was popular with the troops; killing me then and there would have provoked resentment.

“After three years as military governor, I was recalled to meet the new Shadow Council, now led by Snoke. Other members were also new, Brendol Hux was dead and his son, only twenty-two, sat in his place. Snoke unveiled his plan for war against the New Republic, neutral worlds, and any Imperial remnants that refused to merge with us. I protested; this was not what I wanted the Empire to be, and I foresaw no outcome other than a repeat of the Rebellion even if the initial conquest succeeded. Whatever side won such a war eventually, it would not increase order or stability, and be only to the detriment of the galaxy.

“I said so. I refused to be a part of that. Armitage Hux seemed to agree with me, and since I spent years mentoring him in the military arts, I trusted him the way I never had his father. I initiated a motion within the council to remove Snoke for treason. Snoke initiated a countermotion to do the same to me. When the vote was split evenly and Hux put in the role of tiebreaker, he sided with Snoke.”

“Pause.” Norra studies the other woman’s face. The voice had been somewhat dispassionate, but now, her expression conveyed anguish. Whatever the history behind the words, Sloane had felt the betrayal deeply.

“And they claim our politics are problematic?”

Norra sighs. “It looks like she realized her mistakes—but too late. Resume.”

“The Knights of Ren stormed in and struck down every councilor who voted against Snoke with their lightsabers. I managed to escape only because I knew which chair contained the secret exit. I got off a grenade at Snoke, but he made a public appearance very soon afterwards, so the wound, if any, was slight. I managed to avoid patrols and steal a ship, though all clearance codes have been changed, leaving me unable to communicate with the fleet.

“I am recording this aboard the stolen ship, on my way back to Chiss space to attempt to rally what support I can. You can appreciate the irony of me starting a rebellion, and of using the New Republic as a backup plan in the event of its failure—which, unless something extraordinary has happened, the arrival of CA-3 signifies.

“The droid’s memory banks, in addition to this message, include information on our territory—First Order territory. Snoke chose the new name; I always preferred the simple ‘Empire’, with no qualifiers. He also stole the name from a speech I gave when we first arrived.” That statement brings a smile to Sloane’s face, and she takes a deep breath before continuing.

”The fleet lineup may change in the interim, but it is nothing you cannot find with probe droids. More importantly, I am including information on the Chiss—of whom my former colleague, Grand Admiral Thrawn, was one. Maybe you can sever them from Snoke’s control. There’s also Gallius Rax’s private journal, chronicling his life and conversations with Palpatine. Rax, as I learned from what he said to me at the moment of his death, was responsible for planning for the Emperor’s possible death. The internal structure of the First Order—training, recruitment, and control—is his creation, though Snoke and the Knights of Ren fit into the mold suspiciously well.”

Wedge frowns. “Could Snoke have been Palpatine’s apprentice? It would be like him to have two levers on the contingency, to use one against the other if he was betrayed.”

Norra orders another pause and considers. “You’d know more, being friends with Skywalker. Regardless, I doubt Sloane is hiding things at this point. She doesn’t know, either. Uhm, didn’t, I guess.”

“It’s been a while since I heard from Luke—but he should know about this. Assuming it’s true, of course.”

“I think we’d better. Resume.”

Sloane’s hologram looks directly into their eyes. “Lastly, after our history, I owe you an explanation for why I am doing this. If I fail to unseat Snoke, he will go on with his plans. I may delay him, but only his death at my hands will stop the war against the Republic.

I have felt this war would be to the detriment of the galaxy, even if in the short term, galactic unity is achieved. I have also seen that the First Order Security Bureau aims, first and foremost, to control the thoughts of First Order members, believing that to be the essence of maintaining control. In a galaxy they conquered, those with my politics would be subject to purges as readily as those with yours, perhaps more so, since we would be considered a greater threat.

“Empress Rae Sloane and the New Republic could have coexisted. Supreme Leader Snoke will destroy both if he can. Snoke is my enemy, and I am not picky about my allies. Your husband and I worked together to bring down Gallius Rax; I will give what aid I can to the New Republic against Snoke. You are now warned. Do what you will. Nothing will please me more if this message never arrives, or if it arrives by mistake, with an envoy from me as Empress clearing up the matter. Not sending it, though, is a dereliction of duty—a failure to do everything in my power to destroy Snoke.” She places her uniform cap back on her head. “Thank you for hearing me out, Norra Wexley. Good luck to you and the New Republic.” She straightens out her uniform, snaps to a precise attention stance, and raises her hand in a formal salute. Five seconds pass, then the hologram disappears.

Wedge and Norra sit in silence for a while. “Kathri,” she finally asks the droid, “how did you get my DNA?”

“New Republic military records.”

Wedge gulps. “Uh-oh. If a simple droid can slice that—”

“I am not a simple droid. I am a First Order Courier and Assassination Unit, model 3.”

“C-A,” Norra comments. Wedge points a blaster at the droid. “You will be inspected by New Republic Intelligence.”

“As Norra Wexley wishes. My orders were to deliver the message and place myself in full disposal of Norra Wexley.”

“I do wish that. But Sloane constantly mentions that we shouldn’t have received this message if she took over. How would that work?”

“I was placed in an escape pod and ejected in the Fidall system, near a First Order industrial world. I hid myself, doing nothing except monitor their communications. My assignment activated when the death of Rae Sloane was publicly announced.”

“They could have lied.”

“Not the First Order. They don’t want to risk demoralization if the person shows up.”

“I see. Very well. You are at my disposal, you say?”

“I am, Norra Wexley.”

“Then my first order—you are also to obey my husband as you would me.”

The droid turns her head. “Scanning... parameters recorded. I will obey you, Wedge Antilles.”

“I’m going to take it to General Kern tomorrow,” Wedge says.

“Do you keep in touch with Luke Skywalker?”

He sighs. “Not regularly. But I know a couple of people who joined him to train as Jedi. I can get in touch with them.”

“Good. Will you be alright if I go off-planet for a few days?”

“Sure. Where?”

“Hosnian Prime.”

“To tell the Chancellor?”

“Him, too, if I can get an appointment. But I was thinking about Leia.”

“She isn’t there anymore. She left the day her Senate term was over.”

“I know. But wherever she is, I’m sure she is still doing work on behalf of the galaxy, and that means knowing what happens at the capital. And she is probably the best person to judge how, when, and if to make something like this public.”

“Another war,” Wedge growls. “We lasted longer than the Empire, and without so much oppression. Somehow, I don’t feel like it’s enough.”