by Claudia Gray
Was it all a dream? Rahara thought dully as she stamped down the compressor lock, pushed the unit forward, and did it again, and again. Was I just imagining I was free, that I used to be a jewel thief and go all around the galaxy with diamonds and opals and crystals?
Maybe she had been. Maybe she needed to believe that, to make herself think it was true. Because otherwise she’d have to live the rest of her life down here knowing she’d once been something so much more than one of Czerka’s grubby tools. That she’d been able to fly between the stars. Better to convince herself that this—the work, the pit—was all there ever was, all there ever had been, all there ever would be.
How long would it take to convince herself of that? Years, Rahara figured. But it could happen. Would happen. She’d forget about her life before—
“Rahara!”
Startled, she nearly missed the compressor lock. As her hands pressed it down automatically, she looked up to see a face peering through a thicket of pipes. “…Pax?”
“Yes, of course it’s me.” He sighed in exasperation. “Were you perhaps expecting the chancellor instead?”
Rahara began to laugh at the same moment her eyes filled with tears. Maybe she could’ve imagined a life as a jewel thief, but she could never have dreamed up anyone like Pax Maripher.
A few other people working nearby—a human and two Sullustans—had noticed Pax, too. One of the Sullustans surreptitiously pulled the gear that would stall the compressor line. Usually that was done to take care of minor malfunctions, so the floor supervisor wouldn’t pay any attention at first. The Sullustan had bought them a minute. Rahara looked at her in gratitude before turning back to Pax. “How did you get here?”
“The Jedi actually made themselves useful to us for a change. Now, come on.”
The shock of it hit her. “You’re breaking me out?”
“Why else would I ever be here? To take in the scenic view?” Pax gestured at the dark, dank maze of machinery in the pit.
“I know—it’s just—” Rahara tried to wrap her head around it. “You said—you don’t put your neck out for me, and don’t expect me to do it for you. That would be ‘irrational.’ ”
Pax’s expression gentled. “So I said. But—it turns out there are things that matter much more than rationality.”
He reached out with one hand, and she took it. But when he pulled her toward him, Rahara resisted. “No.”
“Yes, yes, I know it’s very dangerous, therein lies the heroic nature of my escapade, but there’s no other way to leave this place than to, you know, leave.”
Rahara looked back at the Sullustan who had helped her. The others working on her section of the line. Farther down the row, more humans, a few Duros, and an Abednedo. A dozen species within sight, maybe thirty or more represented here—adding up to hundreds of enslaved people, all of whom were trapped just as she had been trapped. Who had never even been able to imagine what they might do with a life that was their own.
“If I’m getting out of here,” she said, “so are they.”
“You mean instead of sneaking out safely, we’re going to lead a slave uprising?” Pax considered this, then smiled. “Excellent.”
* * *
—
On the Meryx, Obi-Wan had very little to do but wait. The ship’s sensors weren’t sharp enough to pierce through the Leverage; while he could’ve signaled the corvette to talk with Qui-Gon, that stood a very good chance of alerting Czerka to his presence.
He decided to study the Meryx—if he was going to have to pilot it soon, he might as well get to know its quirks. The engines, controls, and such were very much what he would’ve expected. No Gozanti-class freighter could ever be highly maneuverable, but Pax’s modifications helped. The only real surprise was how well the lower cargo hold had been retrofitted as a berth for the Facet.
A Nivex-class starfighter, he thought, looking down at its coppery surface. Cieran make, I think, but Pax will have modified that, too. Obi-Wan dropped down into the cargo hold to take a better look—
—which was when alarm klaxons began to ring inside the Leverage.
Obi-Wan startled. The quickest way to tap into intraship communications was through the Facet, so he jumped inside. He turned on the engines and scanned for comms, just in time to hear: “—disturbances on lower levels, lock down access bays immediately!”
“Like the access bay I’m in right now?” he muttered. “Splendid.”
But Obi-Wan smiled at the very strong probability that these “disturbances” were the work of Rahara and Pax.
He pressed the control for extraship visuals. As he’d feared, Czerka GA-97 and unipod droids were already rolling into the bay to lock all controls, including those for the doors the Meryx would need to get out of here. The droids would have to go. Obi-Wan put his hand on his lightsaber, then remembered the kohlen sabotage—there was no telling what his lightsaber was good for right now, which meant he’d be a fool to take it into combat.
Wait, he thought. Why am I looking for weapons when I’m sitting in one?
The Czerka droids halted the moment the lower doors of the Meryx opened and the Facet dropped down and began to fire. Obi-Wan targeted the first unipod, then the second, blowing them to pieces instantly. This would set off a security alarm, but since the Leverage was already on high alert due to the revolt, probably Czerka’s response would be slowed—
His console lit up with the words AUTOPURSUIT INITIATED.
“No—I don’t want—” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as the Facet not only targeted weapons without him, but began to move forward. “How do I shut this off?”
He had no time to find out. The Facet zoomed ahead, targeting droid after droid; Obi-Wan could steer the ship, but he couldn’t stop it, not even as it flew toward the inner doors. His hands clenched the controls as his starfighter zipped into the open corridor. Now he was in a tunnel—one that twisted and turned—with no more than a meter of safety on each side.
You always wanted a real flying challenge, Obi-Wan told himself as he took a sharp left turn, narrowly avoiding destruction. Here it is.
Another voice inside him answered, I take it back! But it was too late to do anything but plunge on.
* * *
—
Rahara had never enjoyed any moment in a Czerka vessel as much as the one when she swung a metal bar straight into a control panel. The sparks that shot across the room looked like fireworks.
All around her, the newly freed were allowing themselves to celebrate through sheer pandemonium. Every panel that could be pried off was; the others were smashed. Whatever tools and gear they could scavenge were being distributed among the crowd, which became more and more “armed” by the second.
“As charming and well deserved as this orgy of destruction is,” Pax shouted over the din, “it shouldn’t take precedence above escaping from the Leverage!”
Assuming they could escape. Rahara had heard the commands to shut down access bays. Other counterinsurgent moves would follow. Czerka knew how to put down uprisings. As much as Rahara wanted to believe they’d get away, she knew that this was equally likely to end in bloodshed.
But if Pax could hope, she would, too. She grabbed his hand and began leading the way forward, faster and faster, until she broke into a run.
* * *
—
“Master Jedi—” The corvette’s comm officer pointed to a screen for Qui-Gon to read. “This is what just came over intraship on the Leverage.”
At the moment, the corvette was fighting a losing battle to keep the tethered royal ship from angling itself to fire on the Czerka ship. They could hold the Righteous in place, more or less, but could not keep the ship from turning within that place. Already they were within range of the Leverage, and the corvette couldn’t tow it away fast enough.
So Qui-Gon’s min
d was preoccupied when he looked down at the comm officer’s panel, but not after he’d read what was there. “A slave uprising?”
“Thought the plan was for Obi-Wan and your guy to slip in, slip out, nice and quiet,” Rael said. He’d been pacing the floor ever since Queen Fanry’s holo.
“The plan appears to have altered.” Qui-Gon considered the possibilities. He asked the comm officer, “Is the Righteous able to intercept those messages as well?”
“Quite possibly, sir, though I don’t know if they’re doing so.”
“Let’s find out. Put me in touch with the queen again.”
Inwardly, he thought, I hope Obi-Wan’s all right.
* * *
—
As the Facet plunged through the twisting corridors at intense speed, Obi-Wan had given up trying to come up with any coherent thoughts. It made more sense to just yell, “AAAAAAUUUGHHHH!”
* * *
—
“Four minutes to targeting range,” said the weapons officer.
“Excellent.” Fanry settled into the captain’s chair. Her feet still didn’t touch the floor. She’d have to have it lowered. “Keep pushing back against our former regent, would you? Let him try his hardest to stop us, and fail.”
The comm officer said, “The Jedi’s corvette is signaling us again.”
“We have nothing to say to Averross!” Fanry snapped.
“It’s the other one, Qui-Gon Jinn.”
She respected this Jedi, who had stood up to Czerka, but she was fast losing her patience with him. “Let us humor him one last time.”
Jinn appeared via holo, seeming to stand on her own bridge. “Your Majesty, may I call your attention to what’s happening within the Leverage?”
“What’s happening to the Leverage is that it’s going to be destroyed.” The Righteous wasn’t as large as the Czerka ship, but it was far better armed, as she was about to demonstrate.
“Not to it. Within it. Turn your sensors to their intraship communications—you do have all the Czerka codes, don’t you?—and see for yourself.”
So, they’d done a search and realized how much Czerka intel her team had amassed. No matter, Fanry decided. The comm officer obeyed Jinn’s suggestion without waiting for Fanry’s order, a breach of protocol she would address later. But her concerns about that faded when she saw the word UPRISING.
“Your Majesty.” Cady lit up, happier than Fanry had ever seen her. “The people inside—they’re trying to get away! We could help them!”
Fanry laughed. “And let Czerka go? Hardly. We have sworn to show them no mercy, and we shall not.” Cady’s face fell.
“Fanry, it’s Rael.” Her old regent appeared in the holo. Just the sight of him angered her almost past the point of reason. But she still heard him when he said, “You can punish Czerka, or you can save innocent lives. You have one choice. Make it a good one.”
She hadn’t listened to Rael Averross in years, and didn’t intend to start now. “Weapons officer?”
“Yes, Your Majesty?” The officer’s voice was strangely hoarse.
Fanry opened her mouth to give the order to fire—then stopped when the cold muzzle of a blaster pressed against her temple.
“I helped you do this,” Cady said, trembling even as she held the gun on her queen. “No. I made this possible. Planting the slicer dart, helping sabotage the crab droid—you made the plans, but I had to do the hard work. And I did it all because I thought that getting rid of Czerka meant getting rid of slavery. But this is just about you, isn’t it? About having power for yourself.”
It was scary having a weapon pointed at her head. Fanry somehow had never realized that before. Via holo, she could see her fear reflected in Rael Averross’s expression. How dare he pretend to truly care about her? And why weren’t any of the bridge officers coming to her aid?
But Fanry ruled over Cady. Always had. Always would. Some things could never be changed. “As your queen,” she said evenly, “I order you to put your weapon away.”
Cady shook her head no. “Looks like we’re having our second revolution of the day.”
* * *
—
Qui-Gon was relieved to know Fanry had been overthrown, at least long enough to prevent vast bloodshed—but the real battle was still going on inside the Leverage. He had to make sure the right side won.
As soon as the holo from the Righteous faded out, he connected to the Leverage again. When Meritt Col reappeared, she looked more frazzled than before.
“Yes, yes, the queen’s no longer a problem,” she snapped. “If you had anything to do with that, thank you, but I have other issues to deal with.”
“Such as setting free the people currently rebelling within your ship,” Qui-Gon said. “The former slaves.”
“How many more times must I tell you?” Col asked. “They will always be slaves.”
“The situation has changed, Supervisor Col, as you would know if you were better versed in Republic jurisprudence. ‘During extreme political upheaval, any group found to be imprisoned against their will, without having been convicted or accused of any offense against the law, shall be liberated. Anyone responsible for imprisoning these people is committing a criminal act.’ ”
Col scoffed. “This is one day of problems, Jedi. The crown princess is now queen, as planned, even if the particulars are unfortunately very difficult. Who’s to say that this counts as ‘extreme upheaval’?”
“Only a designated representative of the Republic can make such a finding,” Qui-Gon said. “Such as Obi-Wan Kenobi. Granted, Obi-Wan hasn’t yet done so, but he’d be happy to once he gets the chance. And as it happens, Her Majesty has already been overthrown.”
“You’re twisting the law to suit your own purposes. You think this momentary disadvantage will make me agree to anything.” Meritt Col rose to her feet, apparently ready to leave the bridge and take on the uprising herself. As the doors to the wide outer corridor opened, she said, “I promise you, Jinn, this will not stand longer than—” Her voice broke off, and turned into a scream.
Qui-Gon’s eyes widened as a starfighter inside the Czerka ship barreled through the outer corridor, flying straight onto the bridge. Czerka officers, including Col, fell to the ground. The starfighter then landed, snapping chairs and consoles as its weight settled onto the deck. Was it his imagination, or did that ship look familiar? Qui-Gon’s astonishment peaked when the starfighter’s hatch opened to reveal—“Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan’s face was pale, his stare somewhat dazed. He looked at the holo for a long moment, taking gulping breaths, then ventured a weak smile. “I don’t suppose you believe I meant to do this?”
“No.” Qui-Gon began to smile. “But as it turns out, you’re right on time.”
“You flew through the ship’s corridors?” Qui-Gon put one arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders as they walked away from the corvette’s docking bay. Behind them, Rahara Wick and Pax Maripher were helping the ship’s crew register approximately three hundred former “units of sentient property” as refugees. “Congratulations on being in one piece.”
Obi-Wan still appeared to be in shock. “It was terrible,” he said, his eyes staring fixedly ahead. “I don’t ever want to fly again. Ever.”
“Oh, come now, Padawan.”
“I hate flying.”
“You’re only shaken up,” Qui-Gon said. “That feeling will pass.”
“No, it won’t.”
“We’ll see. For the time being, we have enough to do on the ground—on Pijal.”
* * *
—
Within two days, faced with public outrage over the blackguards and the judicial ruling that a coronation by violence was illegal, Queen Fanry agreed to abdicate in favor of a distant cousin. The new Queen Lamia’s reign lasted only a few hours, just long enough to sign new
treaties that set up a democratic Assembly with ample representation for lunar citizens, abolished slavery in the system, freed any enslaved persons brought to the system, made possible the new Pijal Hyperspace Corridor, and last of all—the item that had to go last—ended the Pijali monarchy forever.
There was, however, a nominal head of state, a governor who would help focus the Assembly’s efforts.
“As for my first act,” said Governor Orth as she sat at her new desk, “I intend to cancel any and all contracts the government has with Czerka Corporation.”
“You never did care for them,” Qui-Gon recalled.
“Nor did I make any secret of it. Yet the princess never realized we had so much in common. If she would’ve confided in more of us, she might have realized how much support there was for standing up to the company. But of course, Czerka wasn’t the point. Only the excuse that let her feel righteous about seizing absolute power.” Orth sighed, and for a moment her expression became wistful. But then she was back to her usual brisk self. “Princess Fanry remains under house arrest—which in a palace is scarcely harsh punishment.”
“How is she taking that?”
“Not very well. Honestly, I think it’s begun to hit her, the weight of some of what she’s done. Deren pulled through, and she’s asked to see him to apologize.” Orth shook her head. “Poor man. He wanted nothing to do with the blackguards. But he’d sworn to obey the princess in all things, and he held true to his oath. It nearly killed him.”
Qui-Gon asked, “How long does Fanry remain under arrest?”
“Four years. Although she was briefly head of state, she’s legally a minor for all other purposes. So her punishment ends when she turns eighteen. After that, I’m thinking a university on a faraway planet sounds like the right idea.” Orth looked thoughtful. “Very far away.”
“Fanry doesn’t lack courage,” Qui-Gon said. “Or will. She may have a great deal to offer, once she’s grown. What’s become of Cady?”