by Jude Watson
“Paxxi’s device can duplicate any print in a security or registration system,” Guerra told them.
Obi-Wan understood at once. Paxxi’s anti-register device could be valuable beyond measure. It would allow the user to seize property and goods and break into any print-reliant security system throughout the galaxy.
“That device is very dangerous,” Qui-Gon said quietly.
“Dangerous?” Guerra asked. “Not so, Jedi-Gon! It will help us!”
“But if the Syndicat knew you had it – if anyone knew, it would put you in great danger.”
Paxxi waved a hand. “we are not afraid. Not so! I lie, of course we are. But that makes us careful. We can steal the treasury, leave the planet if we have to, even sell the device on the black market –“
“Can you imagine how much it’s worth?” Guerra chortled. “Twelve fortunes!”
Qui-Gon looked stern.
“Not that this is important,” Guerra hurriedly said. “First, we break the Syndicat, yes?”
“Which brings us back to our problem, my brother,” Paxxi said. “Our stolen goods were here. Now they’re not. So,” he said to Qui-Gon, “we can’t break in.”
“Yet,” Guerra added. “But so, we will.”
“As soon as we find the device,” Paxxi added helpfully.
“We had better return,” Guerra said. “Lockdown will be soon. Duenna will be waiting.”
With an exasperated sigh, Qui-Gon followed them from the room. They located the device that moved the wall, and it slid smoothly back into place. Then they took the floaters back to the pen behind the staircase. Quickly, they headed up to the main level.
“You’re late,” Duenna whispered worriedly when they appeared. Her bright orange eyes swept the corridor behind her. Then her tense face softened when she looked at Paxxi and Guerra. “But I am glad to see you. They ordered a random routine sweep of the lower floors. I could not warn you.”
“We took care of the guards,” Paxxi assured her. “But downstairs is empty now. No goods are stored.”
“So sorry to tell you now,” Duenna said, walking quickly down the corridor with them. “I just found out after I left you. The supplies were moved to the warehouse by the spaceport. Most of them will be loaded onto Prince Beju’s transport to be taken back to Gala.” She paused near the door. Now you must go. Quickly! Terra and Baftu have returned. Lockdown is in only a few minutes.”
“Duenna!” The voice was sharp, commanding. Footsteps clicked in the corridor off to the right. “Duenna!”
Duenna’s face went pale. “It is Terra!” she whispered.
Chapter 10
The corridor was wide and empty. There was nowhere to hide. Duenna put a finger to her lips. Then she scurried around the corner into the adjacent corridor.
Qui-Gon commanded them all with his sharp blue gaze to be still. He pondered their situation. Terra was only meters away. Obi-Wan’s hand drifted to the hilt of his lightsaber, prepared for anything.
“No need to run me down, old woman.” Terra’s voice cracked like a whip. “Where have you been?”
“in the kitchens,” Duenna said. Her voice was a murmur.
“In the kitchens. Eating again? Or avoiding me?” Look at me.”
There was a pause. Guerra and Paxxi suddenly reached out and gripped each other’s shoulders.
Terra’s voice slowed to a purr. “What are you hiding from me, Duenna? Have you seen Paxxi and Guerra?”
Paxxi and Guerra squeezed each other hard.
“Not so. I have not,” Duenna replied. Her voice was steady.
“Yet you are not surprised to hear they are on Phindar,” Terra said.
“I am surprised,” Duenna said. “I choose not to show it.”
“Insolent!” Terra’s voice now shimmered with anger. “Perhaps I should warn you, old woman. If you see Paxxi or Guerra, if you even talk to those traitors, I will personally see to it that you are renewed!”
Paxxi and Guerra looked at each other with stricken expressions.
“But not before you see the brothers die before your eyes,” Terra hissed.
“No!” Duenna cried. “I beg you –“
“Beg if you wish,” Terra said. “Obviously, there isn’t a level you won’t sink to. You do my bidding, clean my clothes, pick up my trash, why should you not beg me?”
“I would beg, if you would only hear me,” Duenna said in a shaky voice. “If only you would hear what you were, what you could be again –“
“Enough! Hear me, Duenna. Any contact with them, they die. And your memory is gone forever, old woman. But don’t worry – I will choose the most terrible planet I can to drop you on! Now come with me. I need my bath drawn.”
Terra’s forceful footsteps headed off. They heard Duenna’s softer tread behind hers.
“Come,” Guerra whispered. “We must go.”
They slipped into the silver armor coats and mirrored visors. It was easy to mingle with the rest of the Syndicat guards as they left the building.
As soon as they reached the dark street, Guerra led them down a narrow alley. There, they removed the coats and visors. Guerra put them in a satchel her carried.
“Why does Terra suspect that Duenna will contact you?” Obi-Wan asked the Derida brothers. “Does she know that Duenna is a rebel sympathizer? Isn’t it dangerous to use her?”
“No so,” Guerra said softly. “Terra knows nothing for sure. She is afraid Duenna will contact us because she knows Duenna is our mother.”
Obi-Wan shot a surprised look at Qui-Gon. “But why is she working for the Syndicat?”
Qui-Gon wanted to hear what the Phindian brothers had to say.
Guerra and Paxxi exchanged a rueful look. Paxxi nodded at Guerra. “The Jedi should know,” he said.
“Yes, so,” Guerra said sadly. “Duenna works for Terra because Terra is her daughter.’
“So Terra is –“
“Our sister,” Paxxi said.
“She is not the sister we had,” Guerra explained. “Not the one we knew. She was renewed when she was only eleven years old. The Syndicat raised her. She had no memory of the girl she used to be. She grew up here, in this place, with cruelty and power.”
“With no love,” Paxxi said gently.
“So that is why our mother sacrificed her life,” Guerra said. “She thought even as a servant, she could give Terra love. Maybe bring back part of the girl she knew.” Guerra shrugged. “Yet is was never so. Terra did not change. Duenna still remains. She will stay and watch over her daughter – no matter what she is. No matter what she has become.”
Chapter 11
That night, Guerra and Paxxi shared their cramped quarters with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. It was a tiny room in the small house that Kaadi shared with her family. She had insisted the brothers stay with her once she’d found them, and she’d welcomed the Jedi just as warmly.
They bedded down for the night on blankets spread on the floor. Paxxi fell asleep immediately, and Qui-Gon was in the state the Jedi called restful-sleep-in-danger, his eyes closed but a corner of his mind alert at all times.
Obi-Wan could not sleep. He could not stop thinking about what it must be like to lose you memory. He could not imagine anything more terrible. He had worked so hard at the Temple, made deep friendships, learned so much from the Masters. What if all that was taken from him?
“Are you awake, Obawan?” Guerra whispered from the blanket nest to him.
“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered softly.
“Yes so, I thought so,” Guerra said. “I heard you thinking. You are still angry with me?”
“I’m not angry with you Guerra,” Obi-Wan said. “Maybe I was impatient with you. You never tell the whole truth.”
“Not so,” Guerra whispered. “Oh, I lie. You are right, Obawan, as you are always. I sense that you do not agree with the decision of Jedi-Gon to help us.”
“Not so,” Obi-Wan said. “. . . Or so. Maybe I lie.”
“Ah, you tease me,” Gu
erra said mournfully. “And this I deserve from you, I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your sister?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Terra.” Guerra murmured. He let out a gusty sigh. “She is my enemy, is she not, and yours? Yet it was not always so. You must believe this. If you could have known her as a child! Sunny and bright and eager! And funny! She was our tagalong, we called her, my good brother Paxxi and I. Baftu took all that was good and erased it, then filled in the spaces with hate. You see why we must crush them, Obawan? That is why Duenna risks so much – she and Paxxi think if the Syndicat is no more, they can reach Terra again.”
“Do you think so?” Obi-Wan asked.
Guerra sighed again. “No, friend,” he said. “I do not. But I hope so. Just as my family does. In some cases, some strong-minded beings can resist the effects of the memory wipe. They can hold on to flashes of memory. Just scraps of things – a face, a smell. A feeling. I fear it is not so for Terra. It has been so long for her. I have not the belief that my good brother does. I have only this tiny hope in my heart.”
“It’s something to hold on to,” Obi-Wan said.
“Yes so,” Guerra said quietly. “So if I tricked my friend, if I maybe did not tell him everything in the beginning, maybe my good friend Obawan will understand and grant me help again.”
A pause stretched out between them. Obi-Wan’s irritation at Guerra left in a rush. He saw the terror and pain that Guerra had lived with. Just as on the mining platform, when Guerra had covered his fear of certain death with smiles and jokes, here on Phindar he would do the same. Qui-Gon had been right to help them. Obi-wan knew that now.
“Of course, I will help you,” he whispered, but Guerra was already asleep.
* * *
The following night, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Guerra and Paxxi slipped the armor coats over their clothes and donned visors. Under the shelter of the overhang, they watched the activity at the warehouse by the spaceport.
There didn’t seem to be high security. Syndicat members entered and exited the buildings without showing passes. They would only have to pretend to be delivering a shipment for cover. Or at least the hoped so.
Paxxi and Guerra had worked all day to father authentic-looking supplies. Although their containers were marked “Bacta” and “Medpacs,” they were actually filled with old circuit parts. But at least they would have something to carry inside.
“As soon as we’re inside, we should split into two groups,” Qui-Gon instructed. “Guerra, go with Obi-Wan, Paxxi with me. We’ll start at opposite ends and meet in the middle, if we can. If you can locate your goods and find the anti-register device, leave. If we can’t find it, we all exit the building in twenty minutes. We can’t take any chances.”
“But what if we don’t find it?” Paxxi asked.
“We try again,” Qui-Gon said. “We can’t risk being discovered. The sooner we get out of there, the better.” He turned to Obi-Wan. “Don’t forget to keep your hands in your pockets so that no one can tell how long your arms are. We must look like Phindians.”
Obi-Wan nodded. The four walked quickly across the courtyard. At the door of the warehouse, Qui-Gon barked out, “Delivering bacta,” to the guard at the door. The guard waved them through.
Inside was a vast, high-ceilinged space. Row after row of transparent shelving units went from one end of the building to the other. Each shelf was piled with bins and cartons. Syndicat members in silver armor coats loaded supplies onto floaters, then headed for the large loading dock in the rear.
Paxxi and Guerra stopped, their faces registering shock. Obi-Wan knew why. Here was row after row of everything the Phindian people desperately stood in line for. Med supplies. Food. Parts to make their speeders run, their droids and machines operational. All hoarded by the Syndicat. The brothers had known this, but seeing it all with their own eyes must have been like receiving a blow.
“Keep moving,” Qui-Gon said in a pleasant tone that hummed with urgency underneath.
Hands in his pockets, Obi-Wan headed off with Guerra to the far end of the warehouse. They quickly strode down row after row. Other Syndicat members sometimes passed them. They would nod and keep going.
“This is easy, Obawan!” Guerra whispered. “So glad we stole these coats!”
Suddenly, the comlink in Guerra’s coat began to signal him.
“Guard K23M9, report in,” a voice said. “Explain whereabouts.”
“It’s probably a routine check,” Obi-Wan murmured.
Guerra activated the comlink. “Warehouse delivery,” he said.
After a pause, the comlink crackled. “Unscheduled. Explain.”
Guerra looked at Obi-Wan in a panic. “Tell him he’s mistaken,” Obi-Wan whispered.
“Not so!” Guerra said rapidly into the comlink. “Orders received.” He shut off the comlink.
“We’d better do this fast,” Obi-Wan muttered.
They turned down the next row. As Guerra scanned the shelves, Obi-Wan kept watch.
“Found it, Obawan!” Guerra cried softly. “There, to shelf! I recognize my carton of energy cells. It must be here.” He climbed up on the bottom shelf, then reached up with his long arms. He grabbed a carton and hauled it down. Peering inside, he smiled broadly. “In here, at the bottom.”
Obi-Wan shoved the carton marked “Bacta” in its place. “all right, let’s go.”
They strode down the aisle, trying to look as though they weren’t hurrying. An announcement suddenly boomed out of a speaker near them.
“Guard K23M9, report to security. Guard K23M9, report to security.”
“That’s me! What should we do, Obawan?” Guerra asked panicked.
Obi-Wan thought carefully. They had to get the anti-register device out of the building. “Give me your coat,” he ordered Guerra.
Guerra hesitated. “But that will put you in danger, Obawan. This I did once on Bandomeer. Bu this I will not do again.”
“The Force will protect me,” Obi-Wan told him, even though he doubted it. “You must find Qui-Gon and get that device out of here.”
“You can use the Force to escape?” Guerra asked.
“Yes. Hurry.” Obi-Wan slipped out of his own coat. Reluctantly, Guerra did the same. They exchanged the armor coats. Guerra put on Obi-Wan’s and tucked the carton containing the anti-register device under his arm.
“Now go,” Obi-Wan told him as Syndicat guards suddenly appeared around the corner on floaters
Guerra swiveled and walked away, past the guards who headed for Obi-Wan. They did not give him a glance. Obi-Wan turned and saw four more guards heading for him in the opposite direction. He knew he could not resist. Even if her were to get past the guard here, security would lock down the building, and Guerra would never make it out. There was only one thing he could do. He had to surrender.
Guerra disappeared around a corner. The guards sped up to him and hovered, their blaster pointed at his neck, the only unprotected part of him.
“Guard K23M9, you are out of your quadrant,” one of them said. “You know the penalty. We will escort you to headquarters. Resist, and you’re dead.”
Obi-Wan nodded. He climbed aboard the largest floater. The guard behind him kept the blaster against his neck. They took off for Syndicat headquarters.
Chapter 12
Obi-Wan watched and waited for the chance to escape, but it was impossible. Part of his Temple training had been in patience, but it had been his worst subject.
The headquarters was swarming with guards. First, he was stripped of his armor coat and visor.
“He’s not a Phindian,” one of the guards said, surprised. Obi-Wan said nothing.
The other guard grabbed his lightsaber. He tried to activate it, but could not. “What is this? Some primitive weapon?”
Again, Obi-wan said nothing.
The two guards looked at each other nervously. “We’d better take him to Weutta.”
Weutta turned out to be the head of security. The irises
of Obi-Wan’s eyes were scanned to compare to the real Guard K23M9. Obi-Wan saw the words NO MATCH on the screen. Nothing else came up.
“So, we have no record of you, rebel” the security head said, pushing his face up to Obi-Wan’s. Who are your contacts? Why did you come to Phindar? What happened the guard K23M9?”
Again, Obi-Wan said nothing. Weutta gave him a light jab with a force pike. Even that touch was enough to send him to his knees. His head spun, and his side was on fire from the electrifying jolt.