Марта Уэллс - From a Certain Point of View

Corwi didn’t quite sell the poised, confident leader on the latter idea, but she secured permission to travel to Echo Base. She’d be on Hoth for as long as the Rebellion stayed there, so she’d go ahead and chronicle everything she saw. Corwi liked to think her passion for sharing the Rebellion’s story with the galaxy in the hope of attracting always-needed recruits came across as enthusiastic to Mon Mothma. She knew she asked for a lot, but Corwi believed in the Alliance’s mission to restore justice to the galaxy. She put her all into her work to increase the numbers, because she knew the more people stood against the Empire, the better off the galaxy would be. Corwi balanced any pleading edge in her voice with recruitment data and anecdotes.

Her arguments worked. Corwi arrived on Hoth dressed in layers of vests, shirts, and wraps, her recording gear carefully wrapped in a large pack. She wasn’t one to waste time “settling in.” Particularly not in this sort of location. It all had a we’ll make do with what we have feel, which was very much the Alliance way. Roughly carved walls met a stark floor with supplies strewn in a haphazard fashion here and there. Maybe she could find some hot broth, but as far as creature comforts went that was about it. She made holos to inspire, but Corwi tried to temper her material with realism. She knew she couldn’t win the Rebellion interest or respect by pretending every day in this war was a noble parade.

Corwi had to be honest when she made holos to galvanize others to stand by the Rebellion. Honest and hopeful. She knew quotes from Luke, Leia, and maybe even Han would be exactly what she needed. Others in the Alliance uttered the trio’s names in a kind of awed tone; they put the heroes on pedestals. Her sources reported that even some backwater planets were beginning to recognize these names and trade stories about them. This was the time to put together new holos, to work with her artist friend Janray on new propaganda posters with any—or all—of the three heroes. They would be the fulcrum for this next, wide wave of recruitment.

But Corwi had to find time with these heroes first. She had no way of knowing if she’d be expected. Her trip came together quickly, and she understood communications to and from the secret base were on an as-needed basis. They’d expect this final shuttle carrying supplies to make the base optimally operational but maybe not so much the propagandist who had tucked herself into a tight space between crates of rations and blankets for the ride.

She reported in to a General Bygar. He was hurried and clearly had other matters to attend to, but he welcomed Corwi nonetheless. Bygar passed her off to a communications officer, who gave her a brief overview of Echo Base. Where to find the caf, the medical bay, the basics. Comms Officer Farr outlined the evacuation plan quickly, with the weary voice of someone who had clearly been through it a million times. When she finished, Corwi inquired about speaking with Princess Organa. Surprise flickered on Farr’s face. She all but laughed at Corwi’s request. The princess, she informed Corwi, was working in the command center, an area limited to essential personnel only. Corwi had no chance of speaking with her.

Corwi filed that information for later; she wasn’t going to give up that easily. So she asked after Luke Skywalker. Farr described Luke as affable; he’d probably be happy to talk with her, but he was on patrol outside. That left Han Solo. Corwi had heard the smuggler and informal rebel could be taciturn; she wasn’t thrilled about having Han as her only option, but she had to try. And despite his reputation as a scoundrel—or maybe because of it—he had to have interesting stories to tell. Farr took Corwi to the Millennium Falcon, where Han stood with a frustrated look on his face. Normally Corwi wouldn’t bother with someone who was scowling, but her choices were limited. Han actually rolled his eyes when Corwi introduced herself and muttered something about not being the kind of role model the Rebellion should put forth for recruitment. Determined to get something—anything—Corwi quickly set up her equipment. She asked Han why he flew into the battle above Yavin 4, what the Rebellion meant to him.

“Listen sweetheart, I’m no hero. I saw a fight and pointed my ship at it,” Han barked.

She tried to pose a softer follow-up question; he brushed her off.

Then Han gestured at his Wookiee companion. “You know what? Chewie would be happy to answer your questions,” he said with a patronizing smile on his face.

The resolute feeling she had when she approached faded. Corwi didn’t think she’d ever interacted with someone so unpolished, so brash. She’d been wrong about him. Corwi probably would have received more useful answers from Chewbacca. He was a hero of Yavin, too, she recalled, and there had to be a protocol droid somewhere around here to translate. Maybe she would try to talk with Chewbacca later—only when Han wasn’t grumbling nearby.

She stowed her gear and asked the nearest officer about Luke. He was still on patrol. As evening crept closer, word traveled around the base that Luke Skywalker hadn’t reported in and no one knew where he was. Han apparently left on a tauntaun to search for him. Corwi noted the tension in the air when she dined in the mess hall. When she wandered back to the hangar deck out of curiosity, she saw Leia looking outside into the unfriendly mass of white and blue, distress rolling off her. Corwi took a step toward Leia and paused. Leia looked…scared. Corwi struggled to process the thought because she’d never witnessed Leia show vulnerability. If the princess was this concerned, the situation was more dire than Corwi first thought. It wasn’t the time to pepper Leia with questions, especially as it looked like they were going to have to close the shield doors to block Hoth’s fatally cold nighttime temperatures with Luke and Han still missing.

The next morning Corwi was relieved to learn that Han had discovered Luke, and they’d both returned to the base. The Rebellion needed them. Their friends needed them. Corwi wanted to give them time to thaw and recover before she checked in again. But according to a conversation she overheard in a corridor, a vicious creature had attacked Luke. He wasn’t in critical condition or anything, but he did require medical attention. That could actually work for Corwi—a holo featuring a hero in the medbay, injured in his service to the Rebellion but still bright-eyed about his purpose and belief in the Alliance. It could be perfect. And though Corwi dashed to the nearby medical bay, Luke was in a bacta tank when she arrived. That wouldn’t do.

—

So here she was, bonding with the tauntauns and waiting on word of Luke being in a less compromising position. She needed to formulate a new plan. Tauntauns’ garbling, rustling noises weren’t really recruitment material. To have to tell Mon Mothma she didn’t get anything would be embarrassing after all her pleading—she didn’t want to consider the option. Mothma gave Corwi a way out of the Imperial Press Corps all those years ago. The Empire had pulled Corwi in with other holojournalists after the fall of the Republic. At first, Corwi was naïve about the Empire’s intent. She thought she’d continue reporting the truth of events around the galaxy, as she’d been doing for years. Instead, the Imperial Press Corps was a propaganda machine for the Empire. Broadcasters were fed stories that were either outright lies or a heavy manipulation of the truth twisted to put the Empire in a flattering light. Though the extent of the Emperor’s ambitions weren’t clear in the early days, Corwi felt the oily sense of wrongness in her bones. It wasn’t only being made to tell lies, it was that it became obvious the Empire was in the business of oppression. Where their forces went, a certain bleakness followed. She didn’t last long before quietly leaving one day and going into hiding.