by Troy Denning
“Well, that sounds like slavery,” Kyp said. “Kind of.”
“But they’re allowed freedoms most slaves are not,” Kenth pointed out. He directed his gaze back to Saba. “Tell us how the Octusi are taken from their home to Sextus. Perhaps that will clarify the situation.”
“It won’t,” Saba replied. “The Octusi ask to be taken.”
“Ask?” echoed Kyp. “As in, Would you please move me a couple of worlds down-system and let me be your slave?”
“Yesss,” Saba hissed. “Blaudu Octus has a steep axial tilt, so the Octusi must spend their lives migrating, following the seasonz in search of good grazing. It is a hard life of moving fast, and they rarely live more than twenty standard yearz—barely long enough to rear their offspring.”
“But they have a longer life span on Blaudu Sextus?” Kyle asked. “That’s why they want to serve the Blauduns?”
“In a way, yes,” Saba said. “When an Octusi becomes too slow to keep up, the band will often seek out a harvesting ship from Sextus and ask the Blaudunz to take their beloved one. It is better than dying alone in hard weather, and Octusi have been known to live eighty yearz in the care of the Blaudunz.”
“And the Octusi know this how?” Kyle asked. “Because the Blauduns tell them?”
Saba shook her head. “Because other Octusi tell them,” she said. “The Blaudunz bring slaves to help with the harvesting, and they are free to tell younger Octusi about life on Blaudu Sextus.”
“Nothing is ever simple,” Kyp observed. “It sounds like slavery, and it doesn’t.”
“Yes, there is a lot to consider.” Kyle spoke in a slow, thoughtful tone that suggested he had grown more interested in the abstract question than the real problem—and that was a big relief to Kenth. At the moment, he could not afford to get into a heated argument with his Masters about whether the Jedi Order should be doing more to support Freedom Flight’s drive to eliminate slavery from the galaxy. “What about discipline and neglect? Do the Blauduns abuse their slaves?”
“There are bad beingz in every species,” Saba replied. “But the Blaudunz have lawz against mistreating any creature, and those lawz are enforced.”
“Which is rather beside the point, if I may say so.” Leia spoke without permission, not even bothering to glance Kenth’s way to seek it. “It’s the Mandalorians that are the problem, not the revolt.”
“Yes, exactly,” Saba said. “The Octusi will not fight, but they will not yield. Now that they have risen in protest, they will continue to protest until they have won.”
“Won what, precisely?” Kyle asked. “Emancipation? Wages?”
“It is strange that they would demand either,” Saba said. “They are free to return to Blaudu Octus on a harvesting ship anytime they wish, and they have alwayz been confused by the idea of money.” She looked toward Leia. “What does the report say?”
Leia thought for a moment, then shook her head. “The only thing Madhi has mentioned so far is freedom,” she said. “Nothing specific.”
“Which strikes me as suspicious,” Kenth said. “If the Octusi are free to live where they choose, free to return to their homeworld to die, and free to spend their leisure time as they wish, it’s hard to believe such simple beings even understand the ways in which they aren’t free.”
“What are you saying, Grand Master?” Barratk’l asked. Her voice was a bit less deep and gravelly than that of most Yuzzem. She had once suffered a grievous throat wound, and when it was repaired, she had asked to have her vocal cords thinned so that her speech would be more understandable to other species. “That it is permitted to keep slaves, as long as they lack the intelligence to realize what they are?”
“You know better, Master Barratk’l.” Kenth fixed the Yuzzem with an icy glare and held it until she finally averted her gaze, then turned to Han. “Would you replay the feed you just showed?”
“Sure.” Han touched some controls, and a moment later a holographic line of Octusi slaves was trotting through the speaking circle. “From here?”
“That’s fine, thank you,” Kenth replied. “Now would you freeze the scene and magnify one of those Octusi—one carrying a sign?”
Han scowled in puzzlement, but did as he was asked, and a moment later the hologram depicted a single life-sized Octusi. With shaggy white fur and a long, barrel-shaped abdomen connecting his hind- and forequarters, he resembled the beast of burden that his Blaudun masters claimed he was. But in the broad, flat trunk rising up from his forequarters, there was a gracefulness hinting at the tranquil nature Saba had described, and in his broad shoulders and hammer-shaped head there was a gentle beauty born of the uncomplicated integrity of a simple soul.
When Kenth activated his laser pointer, though, it was the broken shackles depicted on the sign that he illuminated.
“Master Sebatyne, have these beings ever been shackled?”
“No. Why would they be shackled when they have nowhere …” The Barabel let her question trail off, her eyes bulging as she seemed to comprehend the reason for Kenth’s question. “Shackles would be rare, Grand Master Hamner. Too rare.”
“So where did they learn the symbolism?” Kyle asked. He turned to the other Masters and added, “Grand Master Hamner is right. Someone put them up to this.”
The other Masters glanced around at one another, searching for a face that seemed to have some idea as to who might benefit from such a thing. Kenth allowed them ample opportunity to find someone, then finally cleared his throat.
When all eyes turned in his direction, he said, “I believe I have a theory. You’ve all heard of Freedom Flight, of course?”
The Masters nodded, and Han Solo chimed in, “For a secret organization, they’ve taken on a pretty high profile.”
“The saviors of slaves usually do, Captain Solo,” Barratk’l said. There was a defensiveness in her voice that Kenth found surprising, and he found himself wondering whether there might be a reason for that—a reason that might explain why Freedom Flight seemed to simply assume it should be able to count on Jedi help. “It is a hazard of protecting the wretched and crushing the mighty. They remember who you are.”
Han gave her an approving grin. “Hard to argue with that,” he said. “But how does it make sense for them to stir things up on Blaudu Sextus? There are countless stinkholes in the galaxy where things are a lot worse. Why start a revolt on a world where it’s hard to be sure they are slaves?”
It was Leia who replied. “Because of Madhi Vaandt.”
She stepped over to the control console and reached over the top to touch a control. The HoloNet returned to a live feed, where the hologenic reporter was interviewing a hairless green biped who stood only about chin height to her. He had sunken eyes, a long dagger-thin nose, and a broad smiling mouth that made him look rather perverse and wicked. As Vaandt peppered the unfortunate Blaudun with barbed questions about owning another being, Leia spoke over the tinny voices coming from the audio feed.
“What’s changed lately?” Leia pointed at Vaandt’s image. “Her. It’s no coincidence she happened to be on Blaudu Sextus when the slaves went into revolt. Someone tipped her off—the same people who convinced the Octusi they were repressed in the first place: Freedom Flight.”
Kyp shook his head. “I don’t see it,” he said. “The whole Blaudun-Octusi thing isn’t ugly enough. If you’re trying to draw attention to the plight of slaves in the galaxy, there are so many other places you can make a bigger impact.”
“Yeah, but no other place where you know Daala is going to have to send in the troops,” Han said. He looked to Saba. “I’m betting the Blauduns don’t have much in the way of riot police.”
“This one doubtz the need ever occurred to them.”
“And since the Octusi are too stubborn to stop on their own, you know there’s going to be a confrontation,” Kyle said. He glanced in Barratk’l’s direction, his brow furrowed in thought—no doubt because he was wondering the same thing Kenth was: whether a ne
w Council member from a once enslaved species would involve herself in such a thing—whether she would risk the lives of thousands to liberate hundreds of millions. “And you know it’s going to happen on live HoloNet.”
“No, it will not be a confrontation.” Saba fixed a bulbous eye on Barratk’l, then added, “Freedom Flight has made a mistake in their calculationz. This will be a slaughter.”
Barratk’l’s eyes widened noticeably, and she growled, “I hope you aren’t saying I helped them plan.”
Saba studied her for a moment, then replied, “No. This one is saying that Freedom Flight has made a mistake, and it would be good to let them know before it bringz blood.”
“Which is exactly what Freedom Flight wants,” Kyle said. His voice had assumed the deep, confident tone it usually did when all the pieces of a puzzle had come together for him. “There’s nothing like public outrage to force quick change, and if Daala blasts thousands of pacifist slaves on live HoloNet, it’s going to create public outrage.”
“But how does Daala fall for it?” Corran asked, raising his gaze for the first time since the subject had shifted away from Valin and Jysella. “If she’s smart enough to keep the Jedi bottled up inside our Temple, she’s smart enough not to fall for a trap like that.”
“Only if she knows everything,” Han said. “Whoever’s behind this is picking out-of-the-way worlds for a reason. Even Ken—er, Grand, Master Hamner—didn’t know anything about the Blaudu system before this.”
“But I would have before I sent in troops,” Kenth replied. He was so accustomed to subtle digs that he allowed Han’s to pass unanswered. “No, my guess is that there are things we’re not seeing here. For instance, why did Daala use Mandalorians?”
“Because she wants to make a point,” Han replied. “Nothing says don’t stir the soup quite like a brigade of Mando bucketheads showing up on your doorstep.”
Kenth shook his head. “No, she used Mandos because she was hoping to handle this swiftly and quietly,” he said. “What if she had the extra Mandos on alert in case things heated up here on Coruscant?”
“You mean in case the Alliance military started to show signs of siding with us?” Kyle asked.
“That would be one reason, yes,” Kenth said. He did not reveal that he knew this to be the case, as he had promised to hold in confidence all of the information Bwua’tu had shared with him. “She would have more faith in the Mandos to put down the revolt quickly—and to have no scruples about how they did it.”
“And she would think that just because Octusi are pacifists, they’re pushovers,” Kyp said, nodding enthusiastically. “She’s still that much of an Imperial.”
“That would mean Freedom Flight knew about the Mandalorian reserve,” Leia observed. Her expression was thoughtful but certain. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t expect Daala to respond so quickly—and they wouldn’t have had Madhi Vaandt waiting to expose her.”
“You are saying Freedom Flight must have a spy inside Daala’s office,” Saba surmised. She cocked her scaly head in contemplation, then dipped her chin. “This one agrees. It explainz much.”
“Yeah, it’s beginning to look like these Freedom Flight guys have spies everywhere,” Han said. “Kind of makes you want to know who they are.”
Whether Han meant the comment to be a jab at Barratk’l was difficult to say, but the anger that flashed through her dark eyes suggested how she had taken it. Not wanting Barratk’l’s relationship with the rest of the Council to turn sour so quickly, Kenth scowled in Han’s direction.
“If Master Barratk’l had anything to do with Freedom Flight, I’m sure she would have told us by now.” He waited until Han finally rolled his eyes and looked away, then gave Barratk’l a warm smile. “It’s not as though there would be any reason to hide such a laudable endeavor from the Council.”
The Yuzzem’s eyes softened, and Kenth knew he had earned her gratitude. Only eight more Council members to go, and he might be able to consider himself worthy of the chair he was occupying. He looked away from Barratk’l and ran his gaze around the rest of the Masters.
“So,” he said, “now that we understand the situation, what are we going to do about it?”
The blank looks that greeted the question suggested two things to Kenth. First, the Masters’ opinions of him had fallen so low that this was the last thing they had expected him to ask. And, second, he still had a chance to win them back.
“I think it goes without saying that we can’t permit a slaughter of this magnitude,” Kenth began, “no matter what kind of impact it might ultimately have on the condition of other slaves in the galaxy.”
Support came from an unexpected corner—Corran Horn. “Agreed. There is no tomorrow, only what we do, or fail to do, today.” He was quoting a new precept the Council was currently thinking of adding to the Jedi Code as a reminder to young Jedi Knights that the pursuit of noble ends never justifies base means. “We need to end this revolt before it turns into a bloodbath.”
Kenth paused and ran his gaze around the circle, giving each Master an opportunity to object. When none did, he said, “Ending this revolt will put the Jedi Order temporarily on the side of the slavers and the Mandalorians. Can we accept that?”
“This one cannot,” Saba objected. “We can also end the revolt by chasing the Mandalorianz away.”
“I don’t see how,” Tionne said. “If the Octusi will keep marching until they win, we’ve only delayed the confrontation.”
“Sometimes delay is prevention,” Saba replied. “The Blaudunz and the Octusi are not enemies. Without interference, they will come to their own arrangement—without blood.”
Kenth remained silent, waiting for someone else to point out the flaw in Saba’s plan. When no one did, he realized he would have to do that himself.
“Are you suggesting the Jedi take military action, Master Sebatyne?” he asked. “Because, at the moment, that is just not possible.”
“Of course it is not possible.” Saba’s tail thumped the floor so hard that Kenth felt the impact through the seat of his chair. “We have the Sith to fight.”
“So you’re suggesting … what, exactly?” Kyp asked. “Because chasing off an entire brigade of Mandalorians is a pretty tall order, even for a Jedi Knight.”
“You are right, Master Durron,” Saba said. “We may have to send two.”
The silence that followed suggested that the rest of the Masters were as stunned by the suggestion as Kenth was.
After a moment, Kyle asked, “Are you suggesting that we send Tesar and Wilyem?”
“No.” Saba’s head snapped around so quickly that Kenth wondered for an instant whether someone had reached for a lightsaber. “Why would you think that?”
“My apologies,” Kyle said, frowning in puzzlement. “I thought you meant to suggest them.”
“Tesar and Wilyem are busy.” Saba glared at Kyle a moment, then looked back to the circle. “We must send someone else.”
Kenth did not recall hearing of any mission involving the two Barabels. And these days, not hearing about anything involving a Jedi worried him. He thought for a moment, trying to recall the two Barabel females who had helped the Solos sneak a load of psychotic Jedi off the planet a couple of months ago. They had been the youngest members of the Wild Knights when Saba appeared with the band during the war with the Yuuzhan Vong, and they had flown with honor and ferocity in a half dozen space battles.
“What about Zal and Dordi?” he asked, finally recalling their names.
“This one said no!”
Saba stood and whirled so fast that Kenth had to exert an act of will to keep from leaping to his feet. Several other Masters did not bother, rising to stand in front of their chairs with their hands hovering over their lightsabers.
Saba glanced at their hands, then snorted in derision. “Dordi and Zal are not available, either. Barabel Jedi Knightz are not available.”
Kenth remained in his chair, more puzzled by Saba’s anger than he was
frightened by it. In a calm voice, he asked, “And why not?”
Saba’s scales bristled, and her tail lashed around so fast that Kenth and Cilghal both had to jump to avoid being swept off their feet. “It’z private.”
“Private?”
Kenth glanced over at the Solos for some explanation—and found them looking just as puzzled as he was. Whatever the Barabels were up to, they were keeping it completely to themselves—and a secret mission cooked up by Barabels could not be a good thing.
“Master Sebatyne,” Kenth said evenly, “like it or not, I’m the acting Grand Master of the Jedi Order. When four Jedi Knights disappear from the Temple without authorization, it’s my duty to find out why.”
The Barabel continued to regard him with a fang-filled snarl. “No, it is not. What Tesar and the otherz are doing is no one’s concern but their own.”
Kenth dropped his head in frustration. “Master Sebatyne, what I’m asking …” He caught himself and looked back up. “No. What I’m demanding—”
“Master Sebatyne,” Leia interrupted, “I think Grand Master Hamner may be concerned that Tesar and the others are acting against Chief Daala without his knowledge. After the actions of, um, certain Jedi Knights recently, it’s a reasonable concern.”
Saba looked from Kenth to Leia for a moment, her reptilian head rocking in thought. Finally, she looked back to Kenth.
“You think Tesar and Wilyem have gone out? To hunt … Daala?” Her fang-filled snarl changed to an equally fang-filled grin, and she began to siss so hard her shoulders shook. “No. This one … promises they remain in the Temple. They are not going anywhere …” More sissing. “… for monthz.”
A brief glance away from the Barabel revealed that the other Masters—and even the Solos, who knew Saba better than anyone—remained as puzzled as Kenth was. He shrugged and sank back in his chair, very tired and very ready for the Council meeting to be over.
“Very well, Master Sebatyne, I’ll take you at your word.” Without waiting for her to return to her seat, he looked past her toward Barratk’l. “I propose that we send Sothais Saar and Avinoam Arelis to Blaudu Sextus to convince the Octusi to delay their protest. Saar is a Chev, and he’s been working on the slavery problem for some time now.”