User blog:Bane7670/Uprising Series: Waiting


 * This will seem confusing to those of you who aren't up to speed with Uprising's story. Give this page a quick look to catch up if you still want to read this.

The comlink was still. It didn't move. It didn't light up. It didn't chime. Quill Bate stared at it intensely, willing it to do something. It should have done something by now, receive a call or record a message or anything else. Hell, Quill would be fine if it got up and started dancing to the beat of the cantina's lazily-composed band. At least that would give him something new to keep his mind occupied. But in the many long minutes he had his eyes fixed on it, it remained absolutely still.

Occasionally, he would turn it over in his hand out of boredom, having studied it for so long that he could draw it perfectly from memory on a piece of flimsy. Of course, he would have depicted it going off so that he wouldn't have to wait for word from his contacts any longer. That would be the logical thing to happen at this point, but the powers that be couldn't be expected to accomplish that much.

Quill should have been grateful for what his allies had done already, he knew. The Rebels gave him the window he needed to get into the Crypt and break their friends out, Her Majesty among them. The Noble Court, in turn, was indebted to Quill and established a network of security watchmen throughout the sector just for him. At Sir Corto's behest, they would "watch over him and defend his honorable spirit and resolve" wherever he went. Quill was unsure whether to find that touching or creepy. No more creepy than how the Kouhun showed their appreciation. Deathstick had

The Trade Spine League continued to give their wholehearted support, providing spare supplies and shelter where they could. Shortpaw started treating Quill like a second grandson, no doubt his unrelenting gratitude for the rescue of his real grandson on Burnin Konn. Quill always looked up to Shortpaw anyway, but wider access to the businessman's deep pockets just fine by him. Then there was the Ivax Syndicate, who lazily kept bodyguards and mercenaries at Quill's command should he ever need it. Voras was more resentful in his appreciation, but Quill expected little else from a Hutt.

Quill thought he saw a flicker on the comlink's display and perked up. With growing frustration, he realized it was just the dim shadow of a patron passing by his table in the cantina. He glowered at the rusty brown tabletop that had accumulated a thin layer of chromium dust since Quill sat down. Some of it probably got into his drink. Served him right for not downing it right away like patrons were supposed to. What else was he supposed to do but hadn't gotten to yet?

Then, the comlink went off. Quill felt his heart somersault as the yellow indicator light blinked rapidly. He picked it up off the table and activated it. "This is Quill," he answered.

"Hey there," Riley replied. "They're back. Meet me over in loading bay nine in five minutes."

"Got it," he said and switched the comm off again. Regarding his drink and deciding he was taking enough chances on his life as it was, he stood, dropped a few credits on the table and left the cantina. Finally getting somewhere.

In the loading bay, Quill watched his compatriots offload crate after crate from the shuttle.

"That's the last of them," Tryken said, holstering his data pad. "Fifteen cases of BlasTech weapons plus all the components needed to maintain them. Wish we could see shipments like this every week."

"Take what you can get, Tryken," Quill said, opening one of the cases a crack and inspecting the blaster inside.

"Where did you find out about this stockpile anyway?" Riley asked, leaning on her good leg with her arms folded.

"Got a tip from Alin. You know, that traveling merchant?" Quill was sure that was merely what she posed as, but figured Riley wouldn't care anyway. "Anyway, apparently some noble on Anoat was saving them up for a coup, then forgot about them."

"And then we remembered for him," Bib'vena said with a wide grin. His sharpened Twi'lek teeth made him look way too eager. Those Ryloth freedom fighters enjoyed collecting blasters almost as much as they loved using them on Imperials. "Couldn't believe some survivalists hadn't already uncovered it."

"Place was crawling with 'em," Tryken remarked sourly. "Speaking of, I already subtracted my payment from this lot. Kept a few things we picked up on the way for myself."

Quill patted him on the shoulder. "Tryken, old boy, one of these days you're gonna show me your collection."

"Like you'd care..." Tryken muttered as he sulked away towards the cantina.

"Doing this by itself is enough payment for me!" Bib'vena called as he returned to the shuttle to fly it out.

Riley smirked and turned to Quill. "So, anything from Bastion yet about that new base?"

"Nothing yet." Quill shook his head. "He's a hard man to reach, especially when he's working under a death mark. Give him time. He'll work it out"

"Hey, we did a lot more in a lot less time when we had a bounty on our heads."

"Technically, we still do, we just got better at living with it," Quill said with a shrug.

Riley nodded, then her eyes drifted. Quill saw the concern on her face and waved a hand in front of her. "You still here?"

"Yeah," she said without looking up. "I'm just thinking. Well, have been thinking for a while now. I see this shipment and I remember when we would've been beside ourselves to have this much at once. What some of these guns would go for on the black market... and to think we're giving them away free of charge..." Riley sighed and met Quill's eyes. "I don't know. I guess I'm used to just looking out for you. I'm not ready to have other people counting on us."

Doubt. It was natural. Quill was glad it wasn't just him. He put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "I don't know if I'm ready either," he admitted, giving Riley a worried look. "But ready or not, it's where we are now. Look at how far we came. We have every major faction in the Anoat sector on our side, rallying behind us. Not only that. We've given the people here something they haven't had in a long time: hope. Because of us, now the people―from the shopkeepers on Burnin Konn to the bureaucrats on Cloud City―they have something to believe in.

"Because of what we've done, the people around us are willing to help us like we helped them. Remember what dad always says, 'Better to have one more person than one more blind spot.' I never really appreciated that until now."

Riley looked off again as Bib'vena piloted the shuttle off the loading bay. She waited for the roar of its engines to pass before speaking again. "You're not the I-Work-Alone type you were when you came here." Riley paused. "...and we're not low-class thieves anymore. We're part of a movement now." She said it in such a neutral tone that Quill didn't know how to take it. "And yet, we're no more certain what tomorrow will bring."

Quill smiled. "Life of a smuggler, Riley. What's done has been done and what happens next will happen. Only way to prepare for it is just to take it as it comes. When we hear back from Bastion, we'll deal with it and make it work. Together."

Riley looked at him again and managed a thin smile, the sly grin that he knew her for. "Of course we're together. I'm not letting you plan things alone ever again."

Quill laughed. "Give it to someone better fit to lead an uprising?"

Riley took Quill's arm and turned him to face the crates piled before them. "Yeah, ME," she said. "Now get to work."