Most Wanted

by Rae Carson

  Han could hardly fathom it. All those people dead—a whole syndicate—for only three hundred thousand credits. Better them than him and Qi’ra of course. Still, it felt wrong.

  “What changed her mind?” Qi’ra asked.

  “You did. She contacted us again during the exchange and said three young scoundrels made her see things differently. So we transferred the money, and she blew up their ship and everyone in it. In the days since, we’ve pursued stragglers throughout the sector, taking them out one by one. In short, we have wiped them out.”

  “All of them?” Han practically squeaked.

  “They were a scourge on the galaxy,” Tool said.

  Han and Qi’ra exchanged startled glances. The Kaldana captain had said the exact same thing about Rodians.

  “That was a clever double cross,” Qi’ra said. “Coldly practical.”

  Han gave her a confused look. It sounded like she admired them for it.

  “Hey, it’s better to be the betrayer than be the betrayed,” she said.

  “But…so many people,” Han said.

  “I care little for the death counts of organics,” said Tool. “It’s nothing like what droids have experienced.”

  Suddenly, Han was glad no one had gotten the shield technology. Not the Kaldana, not the White Worms, and especially not the Droid Gotra. Tool had almost convinced him their cause was worthy. Han had gone so far as to defend the Gotra to the Engineer.

  Well, that would be the last time he got swindled into believing in a cause. Cause was just a fancy word for war, and war always got people killed, often innocent people. Like Tsuulo.

  “My organization thanks you for being such loyal allies in the fight for droid equality,” Tool continued. “We’ve decided to bestow a token of appreciation. It’s a street speeder—”

  Han gasped.

  “—which we shall present to your Rodian friend.”

  Han’s heart sunk.

  “He saved me from nonfunction, and his technical skills allowed the datacube to stay out of enemy hands. Where is he? I expected him to join us.”

  “He’s dead,” Qi’ra said flatly. “The Kaldana killed him.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  “Hey, we helped with all that stuff!” Han said. “We kept the datacube out of—”

  “Yes, but mostly Tsuulo,” Tool insisted. “I’m disappointed to hear of his demise. Does he have an heir?”

  Qi’ra stepped forward. “We are his—”

  Han put a hand on her arm. His voice was glum as he said, “His brother. He has a brother named Reezo who is in dire need of a speeder right now.”

  “Han!” Qi’ra protested. “We need resources.”

  “We’ll figure something out. This is the right thing to do.”

  She glared at him. “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Qi’ra sighed. “No. I don’t. Tool, we’ll make sure that speeder gets to Tsuulo’s brother.”

  Tool inclined his head in a very human gesture. “The Droid Gotra thanks you.”

  Qi’ra led the way as they raced back to the White Worm lair. She hated being late. Hated it. The mess hall was empty when they arrived. “Blast,” Qi’ra panted out.

  “Just keep running.” Han sprinted through the mess and its scattered tables to the tunnel leading to the Sinkhole. They burst through and skidded to a halt at the edge of Lady Proxima’s scummy pond.

  White Worms surrounded the pond, lining every bit of free wall space. Some sat in the upper adjoining tunnels, legs dangling over the edge. Morning light filtered thick and blue through the high clerestory windows. There were even more humans in the gang now, kids Han didn’t recognize. Lady Proxima must have done some recruiting while they were gone.

  Actually, she had probably recruited the humans to hunt them on the surface back when she still wanted all three of them dead.

  Lady Proxima herself huddled in the center, half-submerged. Her jewelry glistened with dripping water, and her dominant arms were twitching with anticipation.

  When she saw them, she emerged from the water, exposing her long wormy body and her tiny swimmerets, causing the water to lap at the concrete edges. As always, Qi’ra had to resist the urge to recoil. She was just so huge, taller even than Moloch.

  “Qi’ra. Han,” she said, in a voice meant to convey maternal affection, though it made Qi’ra feel like a juicy bug about to be squashed. “Just in time, my darlings.”

  “You commanded our presence, and we obeyed,” Han said with a grin.

  Rebolt stood off to the side, glaring at them. No doubt he’d been hoping they’d be late. Qi’ra wasn’t sorry to disappoint.

  His hounds were with him, massive grinning beasts with thick slimy hides the color of spoiled cream. They sat calmly, their giant heads reaching above Rebolt’s waist. One licked at its paw. The other yawned, pointed tongue flicking in and out. Qi’ra knew they could jump to action at a single command from Rebolt.

  “Now that all my darling children are here,” Proxima said, “it’s time to choose a new Head Child of the White Worms. Rebolt, Qi’ra, and Han, please step forward.”

  They obeyed, stepping to the very edge of the pond.

  Qi’ra stared straight ahead, her chin up, lips set stubbornly. She didn’t want anyone to know how much she wanted this. How disappointed she’d be if she didn’t get it. She was going to play it cool no matter what.

  “I’ve narrowed my choice down to you three. Rebolt, you are loyal. Dangerous with those hounds. An enforcer.”

  Rebolt inclined his head in acknowledgment.

  “Qi’ra, you are smart, observant, and strategic. A tactician.”

  All true, but Qi’ra did not respond in the slightest.

  “And, Han, you are instinctive and lucky, liked by everyone around town. An ambassador.”

  Han shrugged. “It comes naturally.”

  Rebolt glared at him. Qi’ra failed to hide a smile.

  But Lady Proxima’s beakish mouth turned down into a frown. “And occasionally disrespectful,” she added.

  “Which is why,” Han said loudly, his voice carrying, “you shouldn’t pick me.”

  Rebolt gaped. Qi’ra mouthed, What are you doing?

  Han straightened and addressed Lady Proxima as respectfully as Qi’ra had ever heard him speak to anyone: “Honored Lady, you should choose Qi’ra.”

  Qi’ra’s eyebrows practically reached her hairline. A hubbub arose as the White Worms crowding the Sinkhole began mumbling among themselves.

  “It’s the lady’s decision, not yours,” Rebolt said.

  “Of course it is,” Han said. “And since the job comes down to you or Qi’ra now, and you are supposedly the loyal one, then our beloved lady must know the truth.”

  “What truth?” said Proxima, looming closer.

  “Yeah, what truth?” Rebolt demanded. One of his hounds sensed his tension and shifted on its hindquarters, growling low.

  “When we were on assignment, Qi’ra received a job offer. Something that would allow her to see the whole galaxy. Maybe even make her rich. But she turned it down. Out of loyalty to you, Honored Lady.”

  Everyone gasped.

  Qi’ra wasn’t about to tell them that the facts were right but the motivation was wrong.

  “Furthermore,” Han continued, “she’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t have survived that assignment if not for her. I would follow her lead anywhere, and so should everyone here.”

  As speeches went, it wasn’t too bad. Especially for Han. He was more cut out for leadership than he realized. Even Qi’ra could see that.

  Lady Proxima loomed over Qi’ra, then slowly, inexorably lowered herself until they were nose to nose. Her huge face dwarfed Qi’ra’s, and her nostril slits twitched, as though she was sniffing the girl.

  Qi’ra didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. She would be poised. She would not panic.

  “Is it true, Qi’ra, my darling?” Proxima said. “Did y
ou reject the whole galaxy for me?”

  One heartbeat. Two.

  “Yes, my lady. My home is here. With you.”

  Proxima drew herself to full height again, water sloshing everywhere. She clapped her dominant hands together, and her swimmerets waved with excitement. To everyone crowding the Sinkhole, she said, “Please welcome your new Head, Qi’ra of the White Worms!”

  A cheer went up, and no one cheered more loudly than Han. Qi’ra felt vaguely stunned while kids surrounded her, slapping her back, shouting congratulations. Even Moloch inclined his head at her in acknowledgment.

  Only Rebolt stood off to the side, seething, his hounds dancing with barely contained anxiety.

  Lady Proxima waved her arms, and the crowd hushed.

  She said, “In celebration, the mess will serve a second round of breakfast.”

  Another cheer. But Qi’ra couldn’t quite bring herself to celebrate. She was too confused. Why had he done it?

  Yum, thought Han as he headed to second breakfast. More rat sludge.

  But this marked the beginning of Lady Proxima’s keeping her end of the bargain and feeding them two meals per day, so Han wasn’t about to complain. As they all herded themselves through the tunnel back into the mess, Qi’ra grabbed Rebolt’s sleeve.

  “Rebolt,” she said, and he spun to face her.

  Everyone froze and stared, waiting to see what would happen. Han moved closer, ready to tackle Rebolt if he tried anything.

  Rebolt hesitated before replying, “What?”

  “I have an errand for you.”

  Horror filled Rebolt’s face as the true import hit him. Qi’ra was in charge now. She could order him to do anything. A muscle in his jaw twitched. Then he managed, “Yes, Head. Whatever you need.”

  But he turned to glare coldly at Han.

  Han smiled. He couldn’t wait to hear what she’d cooked up.

  “Take a few of your dog biscuits and deliver them to a friend of mine,” she said. “His name is Powlo. Tell him it’s in gratitude for helping Han, Qi’ra, and Tsuulo, for letting us visit.”

  Rebolt’s eyes narrowed. “You mean Old Man Powlo? That creepy hermit?”

  “Powlo is a great ally of the White Worms, and we shall continue to cultivate our relationship with him,” Qi’ra said. Quickly, she gave him directions.

  Rebolt turned to go.

  “And, Rebolt!” Qi’ra called after him. He paused but did not turn around. “Don’t scare him. Leave your hounds behind.”

  He stormed off, and Han felt his grin grow wider and wider. “He really hates us now,” he observed.

  “Oh, yes,” Qi’ra said. “But he already did. I realized I had to put him in his place quick. Establish my authority. Be careful with him, Han. He’ll blame you for all this.”

  That was Qi’ra, always thinking.

  As they stepped into the mess, Han said, “Tsuulo would have loved to see that happen.”

  Qi’ra gifted him with a sad smile. “Yes, I think he would have.”

  They sat at one of the lily pad tables. A few others tried to join them, but Qi’ra waved them off. When no one was in earshot, she leaned forward and said, “Han, I have to know. Why did you do it? Was it just one of those impulse decisions?”

  “Sort of. Maybe.” The truth was, Qi’ra deserved the position. And it was more important to her than it was to him.

  “But I thought you really wanted this.”

  “I did.” He leaned close so their faces were a hand’s breadth apart, and he whispered, “There are some things I want even more. Like escaping Corellia. With my only friend.”

  Her cheeks colored, and she sat back in her seat. A tiny smile curved her lips. “No one’s ever sacrificed something for me before.”

  “Well, don’t get used to it,” he said gruffly, suddenly uncomfortable. “And I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t deserve it.”

  She was still smiling. He loved that smile. “I think I finally believe you,” she said. “You’ll never betray me, will you, Han?”

  “Course not.”

  A little boy no older than seven years old approached, wearing smudged goggles and carrying a bowl. Qi’ra started to wave him away, but the boy said, “I’m Hallro. I’m new. Moloch says you get a bowl of creamed herring now that you’re Head.”

  “Oh. Uh, thanks, Hallro.” Qi’ra sniffed it, shrugged, then took a bite. The boy in the goggles backed away.

  “How is it?” Han asked.

  “Creamy,” she said. “And fishy.”

  “I guess it beats rat sludge.”

  “Barely. Here, have some.” She shoved the bowl at him, and he didn’t hesitate to take a huge bite.

  It wasn’t awful. “So,” he said, wiping his mouth, “you’re sharing your special ration with me. Just the two of us. Alone. Eating a meal together. Is this…a date?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  You couldn’t blame a guy for trying. If he was being honest with himself, he was a little relieved. What he needed right now was a friend. Even though Qi’ra just might be the prettiest, most interesting girl he had ever met.

  Something in her face changed, and Han got the feeling she was holding back a smile. “But maybe…someday…” She let the idea dangle in the air.

  Someday sounded good. “Yeah. Maybe.” He gave her his most charming grin.

  They ate in companionable silence, in the way of trusted friends who didn’t need to fill a space with conversation. Han had meant what he said to Qi’ra in the escape pod. What keeps you flying is having one person in all the galaxy to fly with. Someone you can trust to have your back.

  Qi’ra might be his one person. She would always have his back, and he would have hers. And together, someday soon, they would fly away.

  RAE CARSON has been inspired to make up stories ever since seeing a certain 1977 film. She’s the New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of award-winning fiction, including the acclaimed Girl of Fire and Thorns trilogy. Rae lives in Arizona with her husband, surrounded by cats and tie-in merchandise.

  FLORIAN NICOLLE is an illustrator from Paris, France. You can see more of his work at www.behance.net/neo_innov.