by Jude Watson
“So you seem” Guerra said, “the Syndicat will stop at nothing. Which brings us to how you can help.”
“If the wise Jedi would be so kind,” Paxxi added.
“You saw the signs in the shops, the market place,” Guerra went on. “The Syndicat controls all the shortages. It is a method of time control, just as renewal is mind control. The shortages are fake. If the people are waiting in line all day just to feed their families, they don’t have time to revolt you see. Do you ever get enough? Not so. Supplies are doles out carefully so that you have to wait in line the next day as well.”
“The Syndicat has stored everything we need,” Paxxi continued. “Food, med supplies, building supplies, everything. It is all hidden in warehouses. We know this.”
“And some of it is held in giant storage rooms underneath their headquarter here in Laressa,” Guerra said. “So you see our plan? If we can liberate the goods, we can show the people that the Syndicat has been depriving them of food and medical supplies. They will rise in revolt! All we need is your help. I saw the Jedi mind control on the mining platform. Obawan convinced the guards to let him into storage. You see, he can do the same here!”
“Stop,” Qui-Gon said flatly. “First of all, Jedi Knights aren’t thieves. Second, we have our own mission. We are not here to interfere in another planet’s problems. And, just for argument’s sake, how are you two planning to get all those goods out of the building without a fight? And why do you think this will break the back of such a powerful criminal organization? Surely the Syndicat has enormous sums at their disposal. Why would breaking into one storage area change anything?”
“Aha! Good, Jedi-Gon. So smart, just like Obawan!” Guerra said, nudging Qui-Gon with a friendly shoulder. “Let’s discuss. First I must tell you that the storage area must have another entrance. How else could they sneak goods in and out? So all we have to do id get inside, find the other entrance, and so easy! We take everything out!”
“Not so east,” Qui-Gon said.
“But worth the risk, I think,” Guerra insisted. “Another point I must make – along with food, medical supplies, and weapons, Paxxi and I know there’s a vault, too. All the Syndicate treasury is there!”
“A vault,” Qui-Gon repeated. “That implies high security.”
“Yes, so!” Guerra agreed happily. “But Paxxi and I have the key!”
“How did you get a key?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Ha! He asks how!” Guerra said to Paxxi.
“Ha!” Paxxi agreed. “Long story!”
“We have a way to get in the building, too,” Guerra said. “You see? Easy. So? You will go?”
“Let me get this straight,” Qui-Gon interrupted in disbelief. “You want two Jedi to help two common thieves steal a treasure from a bunch of gangsters?”
Obi-Wan was silent. He agreed with Qui-Gon. It was not a Jedi-style mission. Yoda would never approve. As much as he liked Guerra, he was glad the qui-Gon had raised the objection.
“Yes, exactly!” Guerra said, still cheerful in the face of Qui-Gon’s irritation.
“Wait, brother, we should explain further,” Paxxi said. “We should assure the Jedi that we are far more interested in liberating our people than in stealing treasure.”
“So, of course!” Guerra agreed. “Not that a little treasure wouldn’t help –“
Guerra was interrupted by a commotion coming from the café. Quickly, Paxxi slipped out of the room to investigate. Within moments, he was back.
“So sorry,” he announced. “I’m afraid it’s time to go. Assassin droids searching for us all, I fear!”
Chapter 7
Qui-Gon sprang to his feet. He was not anxious to meet up again with those deadly killing machines. “Is there a back door?”
“Better that that, Jedi-Gon,” Guerra answered. “Follow me, please.”
Guerra moved to the fireplace. He pressed something Qui-Gon could not see. The wall shifted, and an opening was revealed.
They heard a crash from the café. “Time to hurry, I think,” Guerra remarked pleasantly. “You first, Paxxi. Show the way to Obawan.”
Paxxi slipped into the opening, and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon followed. Guerra came last, shutting the opening behind him. The steps were stone with a depression in the center from the pressure of hundreds of years of footsteps. Paxxi moved quickly, Obi-Wan on his heels. At the top of the stairs he pushed through a grate and disappeared.
Qui-Gon climbed out and saw that he was on the roof, as he expected. The opening for the secret staircase was concealed as part of the venting system. Guerra slid the grate back into place.
Qui-Gon moved closer to the edge of the room and dropped to his knees. He lay flat, then moved forward a few inches to peer over the side.
Assassin droids patrolled the streets below with jerky movements. Silver-coated Syndicat guards directed them, waving blasters. Swarms of the droids entered one shop or business after another. They threw chairs, tables, shelving, personal items out into the street as they moved. It was like a tribe of insects, picking each area clean. Any Phindian who had the misfortune to find themselves on the street quickly scurried away before the assassin droids or the Syndicat guards could administer a blow with the butt of a blaster or a jolt from a force pike.
“It doesn’t look like they’re searching,” Qui-Gon said in a low tone to Guerra, who had lay flat beside him. “It looks as though they mean to spread terror.”
“Yes, so, Jedi-Gon!” Guerra agreed nervously. “And their plan is working.”
Qui-Gon froze. “Footsteps,’ he said in Guerra’s ear. “Coming up an outside staircase.”
“Time to go,” Guerra said. He pushed himself back out of sight.
The gestured to Obi-wan and Paxxi to keep quiet. Using their long, powerful arms, the brothers swung themselves over to the next roof. Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan. The gap between the two roofs was wide. If Obi-Wan couldn’t make the jump alone, Qui-Gon would have to carry him on his back.
He asked the question silently: Can you make it? Obi-Wan nodded instantly. Once again, Qui-Gon was impressed by his Padawan’s sharp instincts. Obi-wan always seemed to know what he needed from him.
The boy hesitated only a fraction of a moment. Qui-Gon saw him gather the Force around him. Then he ran with quick, long steps up to the roofs edge and jumped. The Force and Obi-Wan’s own strength propelled him safely to the other side.
Qui-Gon leaped after him. Obi-Wan courage often impressed him, as did his instincts.
The Derida brothers were already halfway across the second roof, using their long arms to push off from the ground, increasing their speed. Guerra glanced back to make sure the Jedi were following.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan caught up, and the four jumped to the next roof. There was a structure on top of this roof, a small power shield. They darted behind it. The four stood for a moment, listening, hoping their pursuer hadn’t followed this far.
But they heard something leap onto the roof. Their pursuer was out of their line of sight, but gaining. Paxxi let out a soft groan. They moved quietly and quickly to the end of the roof. Guerra reached it first. He grabbed the edge of the roof and coiled his fingers around it, ready to leap.
Suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed him by the neck. Guerra made a strangling noise. Qui-Gon whirled, ready the strike at the Phindian female who held Guerra.
“Guerra, it’s me! Kaadi!” the female said.
“K-K-aaa –“ Guerra answered.
“Oh. So sorry.” She dropped her hand from around Guerra’s neck. “Just trying to stop you. You run so fast!”
“Not fast enough, I see!” Paxxi said joyfully. “Lucky for us! We missed you, Kaadi.”
Guerra, Paxxi, and Kaadi entwined their long arms around each other in a Phindian hug, squeezing three times to show their great affection. They pushed their faces close to each other and beamed smiles for a long moment.
Rubbing his neck, Guerra turned to the Jedi. “Good friends to us Jedi-Gon
and Obawan, meet Kaadi, good friend also.”
“Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon corrected.
“That is what I say,” Guerra agreed. “Kaadi’s father owns the café where we almost got captured. It has long been a meeting place for rebels. She fights the Syndicat, too.”
Kaadi grinned. She was a small female, with jet-black hair and yellow eyes shot through with green. “I move goods. Do you need a spare part for a speeder? An energy battery?”
“No, thank you,” Qui-Gon said politely. He seemed to be constantly surrounded by thieves on this planet.
“And any word of your good father Nuuta?” Paxxi asked sympathetically, ducking his head as that he could look at her directly.
Kaadi’s smile faded, and she shook her head. “We will hear if he is no more, we think. News will reach us.”
Guerra and Paxxi were silent for a moment. Both of them reached out and wrapped one long arm around Kaadi’s slender frame
“Her father is one of the renewed,” Guerra explained to Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. “He was sent to Alba.”
Qui-Gon nodded sympathetically. Alba was a world in the midst of a bloody, chaotic civil war.
She gazed at him with her clear yellow-green eyes. “Yes, it is bad there. But to be Phindian is to hope.”
“Yes,” Qui-Gon said quietly. “You must always hope.”
“But let me talk of why I chased you,” Kaadi said. “I must tell the Derida brothers that you have been spotted. The Syndicat knows you have returned. Efforts have been redoubled to capture you.”
“We are not afraid,” Guerra said. “Not so, I lie!”
“Do you mean all that activity down there had to do with Guerra and Paxxi?” Qui-Gon asked.
Kaadi shook her head. “Not only. They are looking for the Jedi, too. But also, anyone they know to be a rebel. Terra and Baftu are beginning mass arrests. An important visitor is arriving, and they want to be sure there is no trouble. They are proclaiming that any acts of sabotage or disruption will be met with death or renewal! Even if you a suspected of such things.”
“Who is arriving?” Qui-Gon asked curiously.
“Prince Beju from the planet Gala,” Kaadi answered.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan glanced at each other.
“Out spies tell us that an alliance is planned,” Kaadi said thoughtfully. “The Syndicat will fund the Prince’s mission to retake the governing of his planet. The Prince has already created a false shortage of bacta on his planet.”
“That’s an awful thing to do,” Obi-Wan said.
Qui-Gon had to agree – bacta was a medical miracle, healing even the most serious of wounds. “The injured on Gala will suffer needlessly,” he observed.
“Yes, the Prince had no conscience, just like Baftu and Terra,” Kaadi said. She pressed Guerra’s hand for a moment. “I am sorry to say this. Now the Prince will return to Gala with the bacta from Phindar. He will be a hero to his people. The Syndicat will move in. They will control Gala as they control Phindar. It is planned so.”
“And then they will take over the star system, one planet at a time, yes?” Guerra said softly. “Using fake shortages of what the people need. Wiping their memories. Assassin droids will kill opposition and others will be renewed.” He blinked at Qui-Gon. “We have seen how quickly this method can work.”
It was a cold-blooded plan. Qui-Gon knew that Guerra was most likely right when he said Gala would be only the first step.
He had tried to keep his distance from Paxxi and Guerra’s schemes. Now he saw that there was more at stake than he’d thought. If they could destroy the Syndicat’s grip on Phindar, his mission on Gala would be easier. He and Obi-Wan had to ensure that free elections would take place.
But there was more. Qui-Gon felt a deep stirring of anger. Kaadi’s bravery in the face of her distress about her father had touched him. Even Guerra and Paxxi had moved him. Behind their clownish behavior was deep suffering. He could feel it. The living Force pulsed in the brothers, strong and pure. He didn’t know if he could trust them completely, but he knew they deserved his help.
Sometimes, Qui-Gon reminded himself, fate finds you.
“We’ll help you,” Qui-Gon said to Paxxi and Guerra. Before the brother’s could speak, he held up a hand to stop them. “But you must promise me something.”
“Anything, Jedi-Gon,” Guerra vowed.
“You will tell me the complete truth always,” Qui-Gon ordered the sternly. “You will not withhold information, or shade it, or twist it. You will obey the Jedi rule to tell the clear, solid truth.”
“Yes so, Jedi-Gon!” Guerra rushed to assure him while Paxxi nodded energetically. “For a hundred moons I would not lie to you again!”
“Never mind the hundred moons,” Qui-Gon said. “Just do as I say.”
Obi-Wan shot his Master a questioning glance. Qui-Gon could see that the boy didn’t understand his decision. His interpretation of the rules was too strict. But he would follow his Master nonetheless.
“It is better to act quickly,” Guerra said. “We should break into Syndicat headquarters tonight.”
Kaadi looked pale. “Break into headquarters when you have price on your head? Who thought of that?”
“I did,” Guerra and Paxxi said together.
“Very brave plan, so?” Paxxi asked her.
“Maybe brave,” Kaadi said. “Or maybe crazy.”
“Brave or crazy, we shall see,” Guerra said, unconcerned. “With Jedi along, what can go wrong?”
Qui-Gon gave the Derida brother’s a look of rueful exasperation. “We’ll find out tonight, I’m sure,” he said.
Chapter 8
The Syndicat headquarters were housed in a once grand but now crumbling mansion with extensive security. There were heavy gates to get inside the compound, and a laser security beam over each door and window.
“All you have to do id get us by the two guards,” Guerra whispered to Qui-Gon. “we’ll do the rest.”
Qui-Gon hated having to rely on Guerra’s honesty, but he had come too far now to turn back. He nodded.
Paxxi and Guerra led the Jedi around the compound to a back entrance. There, a guard in the usual long silver coat and dark visor stood, hand on a blaster slung in a holster crossed over his chest.
There was nothing to do but walk straight up to him. “Good evening,” Qui-Gon said. “We have an appointment.”
The guard’s head tilted to take in the two Jedi and the two Phindians. They couldn’t see his eyes. “Move along, worm.”
Qui-Gon brought the Force to bear. He surrounded the Syndicat guard’s mind with his own will. “of course, we may enter,” he said.
The guard lowered his blaster. “Of course, you may enter,” he repeated.
“You see, my brother Paxxi!” Guerra exulted. “The Jedi are powerful. I do not lie!”
“I see, brother Guerra,” Paxxi said. “It is so!”
They walked quickly through a small yard packed with landspeeders, speeder bikes, and a few gravsleds. Another guard stood before a wide stone staircase leading to the back door of the mansion.
He stepped forward, raising his blaster. “Who are you and what is your mission here?” he challenged.
Again, Qui-Gon summoned the Force. With guards like these, it was easy to overpower their small minds. They were used to taking orders and rarely thought independently.
“We are welcome to look around,” Qui-Gon said.
“You’re welcome to look around,” the guard said blankly, lowering his blaster.
They walked past him and up the stairs. Beams of laser security crisscrossed the doorway.
“Your turn,” Qui-Gon said to Guerra.
“Ah, I do nothing,” Guerra said. “You’ll see.”
A second later, the beams shut off. The door opened. An older Phindian woman with dark hair threaded with silver stood facing them. She wore the long silver coat of the Syndicat guards. Qui-Gon tensed, but she waved them inside.
“Quickly,” she said.
They stepped into a grand room with gilded walls of brilliant green stone. Soft rich carpeting was under their feet, covering the floor. The windows were hung with shimmering tapestries.
“All looted from our citizens,” Guerra murmured.