by Claudia Gray
“What in the worlds is Seastriker doing here?” Leia asked.
“I’ve no idea. How did he even fly down this far without crashing?”
“Not a clue. But it looks like he’s saved our skins.”
So he had. The last of their pursuers were no more than glowing rubble amid the stones below. Seastriker dipped his wings at the hoversled, no doubt signaling for Ransolm and Leia to head back to the Mirrorbright while he provided cover.
Ransolm pulled the sled out of its sharp ascent, steadying them both. Leia’s arm slipped away from his waist as he cut speed to a more manageable level. His breathing slowed as he realized the chase was truly over. His rescue mission had been successful.
Unnecessary, but successful.
Then Leia said, “You know…you’re not a bad pilot.”
He turned toward her. To his surprise, she was smiling.
Ransolm began to smile as well. “And you’re not a bad shot.”
—
Magistrate Xun apologized profusely to Leia about the abduction, and the failure of the Bastatha authorities to capture Rinnrivin Di. She accepted these apologies while idly wondering whether they’d even pretended to pursue him. Somehow she managed to sound regretful as she explained that Bastatha was now under conditional probational advisory of the New Republic; this was a fairly minor punishment as such things went, as much as they could impose upon a non-member world, but it would give the New Republic the right to observe and track activity around Bastatha for a while. She and Casterfo might not have the head of the cartel in their grasp, but they would have a chance to trace the cartel itself.
That was, if the cartel didn’t lay low on Bastatha for a while, which they surely would…
“Preparing for takeoff,” Greer called from the cockpit as Leia snapped off her communications with the Bastatha authorities. “Ready?”
“Just one thing.” Leia walked into the cockpit and hit the comlink. “Lieutenant Seastriker, you’re aware that you were operating outside standard safety protocols today.” His orders had told him to summon help—not to fly an X-wing into spaces that would’ve led most pilots to a swift demise.
“Yes, ma’am.” Joph’s voice crackled slightly in the speaker. “Am I on report?”
“You are not. But watch it next time. The regulations are there to protect you, and I knew the risks I was taking. All right?”
“Absolutely, ma’am.” Seastriker sounded unrepentant, but Leia shook her head and let it go.
Greer hesitated before saying, “Did Joph really dive into that cavern?”
“He did.” Leia recognized the look on Greer’s face now; it reminded her of Han’s expression anytime he saw a brand-new racing ship: pure longing. More softly she said, “Do you miss it? Flying like that?”
Greer’s smile faded as she put her hands on the controls for takeoff. “Just wish I could’ve seen him. That’s all.”
Leia didn’t push any farther, simply patted Greer’s shoulder as she walked back into the main lounge area of the ship. Korrie had already gone to her cabin, busily preparing the reports Leia would file upon her return, which meant Ransolm Casterfo sat in there alone, drinking his Gatalentan tea. By now his fine blue cloak had been stained and torn into a parody of itself, but to judge by the smile on his face, he didn’t care. His expression reminded her a little bit of Ben’s when he was little, running in after an afternoon of roughhousing with his friends, hair mussed, absolutely filthy, and proud of himself.
She gestured to her own tunic and pants. “You see now why I always come prepared.”
“Very prudent,” Casterfo said with a nod. “Next time I’ll know how to pack.”
She sat on the bench next to his. “You showed real courage today. You were also reckless—but I like that in people.”
“I underestimated you,” he admitted. “That’s a mistake I won’t make again.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean you underestimated my intelligence, or my deviousness?”
Casterfo’s grin widened. “You underestimate my intelligence if you expect me to answer that.”
Leia had to laugh. This guy was going to do just fine in politics.
Encouraged, he said, “If Rinnrivin wasn’t threatening you, what was he trying to accomplish?”
“He hoped I’d accept bribes to cover up his cartel’s operations.”
Casterfo drew himself upright, as if he’d been the one insulted. “He couldn’t possibly have expected you to go along with such a thing. With your history of service to the New Republic—”
“My history’s a little more complicated than you might think.” When Casterfo frowned in confusion, Leia pulled her cloak from the bench where she’d tossed it and drew the holocube from her pocket. “The Niktos hate the Hutts, and…let’s say I had a run-in with one of the Hutts a few decades ago. It didn’t end well for him.”
She put the cube on the low table between them; Casterfo picked it up. “Do you want me to watch this?”
“Not particularly. It’s not pretty.”
“You think I can’t handle it?”
Leia realized that, as late as this morning, she would have believed exactly that. But Ransolm Casterfo was far more than the empty suit she’d assumed him to be. “It’s up to you.”
He hit the control, then stared as he saw the small flickering image of Leia and Jabba. Casterfo said not one word as the murder unfolded again. Leia studied his expression carefully, waiting to see signs of disgust or, far worse, glee. Instead Casterfo’s face revealed that he understood every bit of the danger she had taken on—and also understood exactly why Jabba the Hutt had to die.
When the holo ended, Casterfo took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t have believed anyone could escape a Hutt’s chains with her life, much less take the Hutt’s life instead.”
“I wouldn’t have, either, until we did it.”
“This was you and your brother, yes? The famous Luke Skywalker?” Casterfo now looked as eager as a child who wanted to hear his favorite story again. “How did you come up with your attack plan?”
Leia had never actually told the tale in any detail, but she found herself warming to it: Luke’s “gift” of the droids, Chewbacca’s willingness to feign his own capture, her disguise as a bounty hunter. Casterfo listened raptly to it all.
She’d never been one of those former soldiers who reveled in recounting her old war stories. But finally Leia understood the appeal.
“Spectacular,” he said when she was done. “As daring as any rebel mission I ever heard of.”
“So you admit the rebels were daring? Not only terrorists?”
“No. Not only.”
This was far from a complete retraction, but Leia figured she could cut the guy some slack. “You’re not all bad, Casterfo.”
He gave her an arch look. “Such high praise.”
“I mean it. You’re brave, and you’re smart, and you fly so well I’m going to have to keep my husband from recruiting you for one of his racing teams. You’ve got a lot going for you, for a Centrist.”
He prickled slightly. “Do you think we’re all so terrible?”
“Apparently not,” she admitted, “but the way you think about the Empire—admiring it, honoring it—that, I can’t understand.”
“It is not the Empire itself I honor. Palpatine’s rule bred corruption and inhumanity, as I well remember.” Casterfo’s blue eyes met hers for only a moment. “I’d only just turned six at the time of the Battle of Endor, but I assure you, Princess, I was already old enough to have experienced the Empire’s evil for myself.”
It sounded like there was more there, but Leia knew this wasn’t the time to pry deeper into the man’s personal life. She leaned back on her bench, studying every small movement and shadow of his face. “So how can you proudly display stormtrooper helmets in your office? And how can you embrace a political philosophy so much like the Emperor’s?”
“Oh, the artifacts, they’re just a matter of histor
y, aren’t they?” Casterfo waved his hand absently, as if dismissing a banquet server droid who had come for his plate too soon. Leia’s irritation lasted only the instant before Casterfo continued, “As for political philosophy, all we Centrists want is to take a fair look at what aspects of the Empire actually worked. Centralizing power, creating maximum efficiency, binding the worlds of the galaxy closer together: Can you honestly say it did no good whatsoever?”
“Whatever good came of the Empire came at too high a price.”
“I agree completely. But what if we could achieve some of those same benefits without repeating Palpatine’s mistakes?” Casterfo leaned forward. “Surely you won’t deny the New Republic is committing mistakes of its own.”
“Not the evils of tyranny and control.”
“No. The evils of absence and neglect.”
Leia didn’t argue. She couldn’t. Casterfo’s words defined her own doubts about the direction the New Republic was headed in—namely, down.
Casterfo seemed encouraged by her silence. “The Populist approach is less ideal than idealistic. It requires a leader who exercises power through charisma and consensus rather than actual legal authority. With Mon Mothma, we had that. But she’s gone, possibly forever, and the galaxy cannot afford the disorganization that has followed. We must find another path.”
He’d seen the exact same critical flaws in their government that Leia had been discussing with Han for years. What struck her most strongly about Casterfo’s speech was not how much they agreed, however. It was how passionately he spoke. She had all but given up on the thought of making a difference through her work in the Senate. Casterfo still believed.
Should she pity his naïveté or honor his conviction? Leia found she could do both. “I think you Centrists want to move too far in the other direction…but you’re not wrong about the weakness of our constitution,” she said, drawing the tiny tracker from her cloak; he’d slipped it into the metal clasp at the neck. Clever. “We see the same problem, but different solutions.”
At least, she and Casterfo did. Leia had her doubts about most of the Centrist bench.
Casterfo sipped his tea, his expression thoughtful. “A pity you never stood for chancellor. You’re a powerful leader, someone with lasting moral authority. More than that, you know when to stop debating and take action. If more Populists were like you, the Senate and the New Republic would be better off.”
“I’m not eligible to cast a ballot on Riosa, you know. No need to flatter me for my vote.” Leia couldn’t resist smiling as she said it.
He smiled back, taking her joke in the spirit in which it had been intended. “I mean every word.”
Even after decades in politics that had taught her to trust almost no one, Leia realized she believed him. If any hope remained for the Populists to come to honest terms with the Centrists and find a middle path, it would be through politicians like Casterfo. Maybe she could introduce him to Tai-Lin Garr and Varish Vicly before she resigned, build some bridges between them, and put the beginnings of that process in motion.
Before she could think of the future, though, she still had to deal with the present. “You realize this mission isn’t over, don’t you?”
Frowning, Casterfo said, “We haven’t captured Rinnrivin Di, but surely that will be only a matter of time.”
“The galaxy’s a whole lot bigger and darker than you’re giving it credit for. Rinnrivin’s money will buy silence, and his reputation will create fear. He won’t crawl out of his rock for a while yet.” She sighed. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. We still don’t fully understand Rinnrivin’s operations.”
“Standard racketeering—”
“But on too broad a scale. Ryloth’s not that close to Bastatha, and its economy is struggling. Hardly worth looting on its own. The only reason for Rinnrivin’s cartel to target Ryloth is to try to get through them to the holdings of the few Hutts still in power. And anybody going after the Hutt fortunes is hunting big game.”
Casterfo’s gaze had turned inward, processing this information. “You said he hated the Hutts. Could this be as much about revenge as it is about profit?”
“Possibly. Or other factors could be at work.”
“Other factors?”
“We were able to download some information from the droids Rinnrivin left behind when he fled,” Leia said. The droids hadn’t all been servitors dispensing drinks; some held significant financial data. “Korrie ran a preliminary data analysis. While this can’t be the entirety of Rinnrivin’s operations, this alone suggests a network beyond anything I’ve ever seen—even from the Hutts.”
She punched her security code into the nearest terminal; holograms popped up, displaying the charts of their findings. Faint greenish light played along Casterfo’s face as he took it in. “Rinnrivin’s not even keeping most of the money,” he said in disbelief. “It’s being funneled into shadow corporations on various Outer Rim worlds. But of course, he must control those, too.”
“That was my first thought, too. And we’ll have to do a lot more digging before we can be sure. But it looks like Rinnrivin’s simply…giving that money away. We’re talking about fortunes. My guess is he’s not donating it to charity.”
Casterfo jerked upright, like a blaster bolt had hit him instead of a new idea. “Rinnrivin’s cartel is new. Too new to have built this kind of reach from the ground up, unless he had help getting started. A sponsor.”
He caught on fast. Good. “Someone else set Rinnrivin up,” she said, “and in return, Rinnrivin does their dirty work and skims off more than enough profit to keep him and his underlings happy.”
“But who would do this on such a scale?” Casterfo shook his head. “Criminal bosses normally don’t trust other criminal bosses to handle their operations. Whoever these people are, they must have extraordinary reasons for wanting to remain out of sight.”
Leia hesitated. She had no proof, only suspicions. Her observations had told her something, but not enough to act upon. Yet she felt that if she told Casterfo what she’d seen, no more, he would at least listen.
“I observed a group of humans at the casino last night.” How could she describe them? Nothing had particularly stood out except their leader. “One woman specifically—older, tan-skinned, silver-streaked hair, a slightly scarred face. She made a point of not watching us. Like she wanted others to believe she didn’t care. But it was too marked. Too obvious. That woman was acutely aware of our presence and did not want to be noticed.”
“I remember her,” Casterfo replied, surprising Leia. “I didn’t pick up on that evasion you observed, but I didn’t watch her long. She had an air of authority about her. I wondered whether she’d served in the military. The people with her acted as if she might have been their commanding officer, once.”
“Have you heard of the planet Daxam Four?”
“No. Wait. A sort of desert planet, isn’t it? One of the colder ones, on the Outer Rim.” Understanding dawned. “The sort of place these shadow corporations might set up shop.”
“Not a planet lots of people are in a hurry to visit, either. In other words, an ideal place to hide out.” Leia consulted her memory of the woman’s face, willing herself to remember each detail. “I found out those people we noticed were visiting from Daxam Four. They even seemed to intimidate the Niktos who ran the club.”
“Are they tied to the cartel, do you think? Could they be the power behind Rinnrivin’s operations?” Casterfo brightened. Once again Leia saw his youth, his eagerness, but it no longer made her look on him with contempt. Instead she saw someone overdue for a task equal to his ambitions.
Maybe she could provide that.
“I don’t know if they’re connected in the slightest,” Leia said. “Daxam Four doesn’t show up in the first set of planets we’ve traced the funds to, but that may simply be the first layer of false cover. Maybe this is nothing more than a hunch, but it’s a hunch we share. Willing to follow that hunch?”
/> Casterfo’s grin widened. “Wherever it leads.”
As if this were an adventure instead of a very dangerous undertaking—
—but Leia had finally tasted adventure again for herself. She had something meaningful to do. She’d regained a sense of purpose, and after far too long.
A little danger was a small price to pay.
“One mission is not enough.”
Ransolm’s voice rang out in the Senate as he stood at his console. For this speech, he was not alone. Princess Leia stood as well, with the holos and cams synced to show them standing together, even though they were separated by nearly the entire breadth of the enormous Senate chamber. They faced in opposite directions, so at least one of them would appear to be directly addressing half of the room. His elegant black shirt and cape contrasted with her ice-blue robes, as if they were both mirrors and opposites of each other.
“We have proved that Rinnrivin Di is a dangerous man,” he continued. “We’ve seen that his cartel reaches as far as any of the Hutts’ ever did. The allegations of Emissary Yendor have been proved legitimate, but our investigation must continue.”
He had addressed the entire Senate only a handful of times so far. Ransolm still found the experience dizzying—thousands of faces and species staring at him, listening to his every word, assessing his arguments through rationales he could neither predict nor control. He felt as if he’d never get used to it.
This made it all the more impressive to hear Princess Leia’s calm, confident voice. “During the reign of the Empire, corruption allowed organized crime to expand its influence far beyond anything the galaxy had ever seen before. Many worlds’ cooperation allowed us to turn that tide and reestablish the rule of law. But we cannot afford to become complacent. It is my belief, and that of Senator Casterfo, that Rinnrivin Di’s organization may represent a resurgence of organized crime, one we must put a stop to now.”