Star Wars: After the Rise

Chapter 2: Escape

Upon realizing he would be passing by the communications array on the way back to the detention center, the pilot had an idea.

"Mind if I could go to the refresher real quick?"

"You have one in your cell," a guard immediately barked back.

"Please," the pilot pleaded, feigning desperation. "It's been a while since I've gone, and it's gonna be bad. I need to go right now."

"You can wait-"

"Hold it." The other guard stopped, pulling the first one aside. "If it's really that bad, we'll have to clean it up. If he destroys another system's refresher..."

The first trooper sighed. "Very well. Don't you dare try anything stupid."

"Wouldn't dream of it." The pilot shuffled off into the communications array while the troopers continued their conversation.

Inside the array was just one bored-looking engineer. Presumably there was no reason to call other ships if this was meant to be a secret army, but it was still a stroke of luck.

"Excuse me," the pilot said. The engineer looked up. "You wouldn't happen to know what a 'sleemo' means, would you?"

The engineer looked confused, and a little offended. "I beg your pardon?"

"A 'sleemo.' I'm from the Mid-Rim, and I don't recognize the term. I only ask because the two troopers outside let me use the refresher in here because a 'greasy, do-nothing sleemo' would have to clean it up instead of them. Said something about you finally 'doing something of value.' Seemed a little mean, so I wanted to ask if-"

"Those fragheads!" The engineer ignored the rest of the pilot's ramblings and shot up. "I've had it up to here with those two."

The engineer stormed out the door. Even as the blast doors closed, the pilot could still hear a shouting match occur between the three cultists outside. Smiling to himself, he bent over the comms.

The pilot wasn't exactly an expert in Star Destroyers, but remembers back to when he and his brother would fix up old ship parts as kids. Once you've seen one broken-down set of comms, you've seen them all. Still, it took him a minute to figure out how to work the panel. While working on it, he was trying to figure out who to call. His brother? No, he wouldn't answer. He was probably too busy with the new "Galactic Alliance" or whatever they were calling themselves these days. He might get him in touch with someone who can help. But that would take him too long. It's not like that message the Calrissian guy sent out to everybody during the Battle of Exegol a few weeks back. He only had one shot at this, but even then there was no guarantee-

The Calrissian transmission! He had created a channel that spread like wildfire throughout the galaxy. The pilot's brother had gotten it from a friend who got it from someone else, but even if it didn't come directly from the source, the comms channel he had opened made the transmission public to all sympathetic ears. Since the channel was so widespread, even if it was still up, it was highly unlikely anything he sent would even be found in the flurry of replies that were no doubt sent in the wake of the battle. Regardless, it was his best chance to stop whatever group of freaks he'd been abducted by. Maybe even save his skin, or the little community on the planet's surface. It was better than nothing.

Doing his best to mark down the coordinates, the pilot reopened the channel and sent a direct transmission to its source to a ship called "the Millennium Falcon."

After he sent the message, he heard a loud bang out in the hall. Preparing himself for another assault, the pilot braced himself, but saw it was nothing. The engineer and the two troopers had escalated their argument, and things had gotten physical between the three. With that diversion in place, the pilot had a new idea. He might've gotten his request out, but maybe he could warn the farmers down on the planet's surface.