Secret Union
I don't don't own anybody, George Lucas and 20th Century Fox do. Planet of Twilight and the Canon books after it (Crystal Star, specifically) never happened, but this takes place about six or seven years after the Thrawn Trilogy (11 or 12 after ROTJ).
Mara Jade finds herself on the executioner's block while on a routine trading run for Karrde. Will someone be able to save her in time? There is also a sub-plot to come, about the first-ever Noghri Jedi.
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The sound system of the cantina blared with lively jizz music. A figure garbed in a dark, military-style uniform watched a particular couple at the bar. A comm device stuck partially out of his right ear.
The redhead sat at the far right side of the bar, chatting happily with the man standing next to her. She tipped back another shot glass of whiskey.
"You said this was your first time to Fokask. How long have you been here in River City?" he said loudly.
"Got in yesterday morning," she replied, equally loud. "Hey, there's a stool open." She pointed to the now-free barstool just down the bar. Her companion snatched it and dragged it over to her.
"Ah," he said in relief as he sat down. "Forty minutes is much too long to be standing up. Of course, being the gentleman that I am, I would never think about asking you to relinquish your seat."
"Good," she retorted, "'cause I'd never give it to you." She chuckled.
"And you're the captain of ...?" The end of his sentence trailed off.
"What?" She beckoned to the bartender for a refill.
"What's the name of your ship?"
"The Jade's Fire."
"So she's all yours, huh?"
"Almost. This is my first run with her. If I make enough money for my boss on this trip, then I'll own her from the ramp to the cockpit."
"Think you'll be needin' a co-pilot?"
"And a navigator. Or just one, if they're good enough." She grinned at him. Taking a glance at her chrono, she downed the rest of her liquor. "Well, I should head for my room."
"Leaving so soon? I just sat down," he whined.
"I need to get down to the Registrar's Bureau tomorrow and fill out New Account forms, if I want to trade here in the future." She tossed a handful of credits to the bartender. Standing, she smoothed the skirt of her bright yellow dress.
"How about I walk you to your room and bid you sweet dreams?"
She grinned coyly at him over her shoulder as she headed for the door. "You can do a lot more than that, flyboy."
With a beaming smile, he paid for his tab and followed her. Surreptitiously, the uniformed man followed them.
Outside, the couple was giggling as they made their way across the speeder park to her hotel, which was at the far corner of the plaza – fairly close walking distance. The uniformed man spoke into his wrist comlink, "Coop, they're headed for your ten."
The reply the couple never heard, for it went to the device in his ear, was "Copy that, Roj." A few minutes later, "Coop" spoke again. "Yeah, we have a definite code 108. I repeat, we have a code 108."
Roj Tyrridan ambled along, following after the couple. He was there only to observe, to record evidence of the minor infraction and make sure it didn't escalate into a felony. The man was a native, one of their own citizens, and code 108 referred to a law that was meant to protect him from being taken off-planet against his will.
During the days of the Empire, Fokask had had a problem with the slave trade, and when they became a member of the New Republic new laws were written to protect its citizens from off-worlders – all off-worlders. So far, the woman was only walking with the native. If he entered her ship willingly, with no gifts, exchange of services, or coercion from her part, the minor infraction would be filed but no charges would be pressed. It would be logged in the system as a fully legal, fully consented start of employment in an off-world company, then the case would be shut.
But while the woman was still lodged on the planet, if she attempted to give anything to the man – especially after the conversation that had just been recorded in the cantina – they would have definite grounds for a solicitation/slavery felony.
And that was a charge punishable by death.
Roj followed the couple to the front door of the hotel, then stood looking at a kiosk outside the entrance. His partner, Carnius "Coop" Cooper moved from his surveillance position to follow the couple inside. Roj waited five minutes, then entered the lobby. Together, he and Coop converged on the receptionist's desk. They showed the droid their badges, and a visible change went through the robot as its security programming took over. "Yes sirs, how may I be of assistance?"
"Could you direct us to your security center?"
"Certainly, sir. It's through this door to your left, then down the corridor on your right. Security is in the second door on the left."
"Thank you. Coop?"
"It's compiling now, Roj."
Roj nodded and led the way back. At the door to the Security Center, they each took out their badge holders and inserted their ID cards into the slot next to the door. They walked through to the foyer, and waited for Hotel personnel to check their credentials.
The door buzzed, and Coop pulled it open as Roj grabbed their IDs. "Evening folks," Coop began. "I'm Officer Cooper, this is Officer Tyrridan. We're from the Eighth Precinct and we have reason to believe there's a possible code 108 in progress in one of your suites."
"Come on in. I'm Captain Mertaal. We're always happy to help stop the slave trade. Who's the perp?"
"The suite should be registered to a Mara Jade. Home residence: Coruscant." The security officers searched their computer logs for the guest list and came up with the room number. "There she is, suite 317. Let's open a surveillance file."
A holocam view popped up on the computer screen. The young native was sitting comfortably on the couch in the lounge. He had taken his shirt and boots off, and was sipping from a wine glass. A small host of delicacies was laid out on the table in front of him.
As they watched, Mara Jade walked into view. She was carrying a bottle of wine, and she topped off both their glasses. She was wearing a silk robe, and a matching pair of silk pajamas underneath it.
"Here we go," said Captain Mertaal. "Typical ploy – get them drunk and give them the shaft."
"Mm-hmm," Roj mumbled.
"Do you have a sound feed on this?" Coop asked. "We need to get confirmation that she's enticed him with a job."
"Well, let's tweak the settings here." He tapped a few keys, some ash from his cigarillo falling onto the desk. He took the cig from his mouth, held between his first two fingers. Tapping off the excess ash, he put it back in his mouth and pointed to the main monitor. "Here it comes."
"So, how long have you been flying?" Jade asked.
"Oh, about nine years now. In the big ships, I mean."
"Do you have much experience with freighters?"
"Sure. Cargo haulers, too."
"Good, then," Jade remarked as the native took a sip of his wine.
He slid closer to her on the couch. "So what kind of ... benefits can I expect working for you?"
"Well," she smirked, "I'm a woman, and you're a man."
He smiled. "Yes, we are."
"And we can behave like adults about that."
"I know I can."
"And it does get quite lonely in hyperspace." She gave him a mock pout.
"I've heard that." He leaned in closer, as if to kiss her, and the men in the security booth stopped watching. Roj headed upstairs with the other officers.
Once on the third floor, he headed down the corridor to his right. He drew his blaster, made certain it was set for wide stun beam, and set himself in a stationary position in front of the door to suite 17. He clicked on his wrist comlink. "Coop, I'm in position."
"On my way up, Roj."
When Coop arrived on the third floor with the hotel's lawyer, he had in his possession the specialized datacards that would serve as their entry warrants. As Roj, Coop, and some of the others trained their blasters on the door, Captain Mertaal slid his all-access passcard into the slot next on the wall.
The door whooshed open, and the Captain stepped back. The men with their weapons already drawn went in first.
The couple on the couch sprang apart, and when Captain Jade stood up, she had a small blaster already in her hand. A cylindrical, silvery object flew to her other hand, and when it spouted a beam of blue light, the police officers tensed.
Captain Mertaal made his way to the front, blaster drawn and set for stun. "Freeze, police!" he commanded.
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Mara had felt no warning from the Force. She turned the hilt of the lightsaber in her hand. She sensed no malicious intent from these men. Instead, she got the impression they were trying to do their jobs, and were protecting her new copilot.
She narrowed her eyes and shut off her lightsaber. She kept it in her hand, though, and demanded, "What's going on here?"
"Mara Jade?"
"Yes?"
What he said next shocked the hell out of her.
"You're under arrest for attempted solicitation for the purposes of acquiring a slave. Give us the weapons."
Dumbly, she surrendered her blaster and other weapons. The officers assured her her lightsaber would be kept safe, and she nodded. They put stun cuffs on her, and she wondered exactly what she was being arrested for. She wasn't trying to get a slave. A copilot, yes. But a slave? Never.
As they escorted her down to the lobby, she thought she saw a flare of light. It wasn't until later that she would find out what it was from.
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A man wearing an old grey flight suit sipped his caf in the breakfast area of his hotel's lobby. It was a smaller hotel, only about 200 rooms, and they had their news screens on the wall above his table.
He listened with half an ear as he ate his Dweezel. But he looked up and paid attention when he heard "Jade arrested."
There was a vid feed showing police and a hotel security team leading Mara Jade out of her suite to a secure speeder. The reporter was saying the Coruscani had been arrested in River City for breaking Fokask's slave laws.
He frowned, tuning in for the entire report.
Apparently, the trader had used the wrong initiative trying hire a new co-pilot. She'd been taken to a jail cell and processed the week before. Now, she was in court, awaiting the verdict of her trial.
The man finished his caf and stuffed the rest of his pastry in his mouth. He hurried upstairs and placed a call to his lawyer.
When the Twi'lek answered the line, he cut to the quick. "Listen, I need you to do some research for me."
"Certainly. What's the subject?"
"I'm on vacation here on Fokask. I just saw a news report that indicated Mara Jade had been arrested for breaking the slave laws."
"You must be joking."
"I kid you not."
"I don't believe it."
"Me neither, which is why I want you to represent her. Find out exactly why she's being charged. Let me know whatever you find out."
"You're certain of this?"
His client only nodded.
"We'll get right on it."
He switched off the com and turned on the vid. Court was just adjourning in Jade's case. He listened somewhat impatiently for the verdict.
He was, quite frankly, stunned when he heard it.
She'd been sentenced to death.
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When the pilot returned that evening from dinner, his lawyer had left a message to call him. He punched the reply button before he even put his bags down.
"Ah, good," the attorney said when he saw his client. "I just called you not that long ago."
"Just got in. What'd you find?"
"Nothing good. Their anti-slavery laws are very strict, almost too much. The evidence presented was fairly incriminating.
"The ground rules for employing a Fokask native state that the prospective employer cannot provide the applicant with gifts of any kind. This falls under the anti-slavery laws. With me so far?"
He nodded.
"Now, they also have a subset of anti-solicitation laws that falls under the same code. Under these regulations, sex cannot be used either as a form of enticement or as a form of coercion."
"Wait, wait, wait," he interjected. "You mean to tell me Mara Jade was arrested on a prostitution bust?!"
"I'm afraid so."
His jaw dropped, then he remembered what he'd heard that morning. "And the punishment is execution?!"
"They have a zero-tolerance level for these things."
"Did you find anything? Any kind of loophole at all?"
"I did find one. In six previous cases, the defendant made an appeal of their guilty verdict. In all six, the verdict was overturned in light of the fact that the defendant was engaged to be married. In court, the prisoner testified that he or she viewed the hire as a legitimate start of new employment, and the one-night stand they treated as one last fling as a single person before they entered marriage.
"In these cases, the fiancé was brought to Fokask. The couple was married here. In the very first case where this loophole was exploited, the couple married, left planet, and were divorced about three months later.
"In order to combat this exploitation, the marriage laws were changed. Now, the couple has to stay married for five years. A droid is present for the consummation of their union, and then follows them off-planet. If either spouse has an affair, the parolee is sent back to Fokask and executed. If the marriage proves to be false, or a marriage of convenience, the parolee is sentenced to death."
"So, if Mara was engaged, she'd have a way out?"
"Oh, sure," the lawyer replied. "But you know Mara Jade. Is that sort of occurrence even likely?"
"No, I suppose not." He ran a hand over his beard and mouth and began tugging at his bottom lip with thumb and forefinger.
His lawyer caught the gesture; knew what it meant. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm not sure yet. I've only got the beginnings of a plan. Stand by on this, will you? Be ready to contact her trial attorney if I think of something."
"You bet, boss."
He cut the connection, and went over to lie on the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking.
How could he get his friend out of this?
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Mara Jade sat in her jail cell, meditating. She figured Skywalker'd be proud of her if he could see her now. This was probably the stupidest and most Jedi-like thing she'd ever done. But there was nothing else for her, now. Oh sure, it was a ridiculous crime to be sentenced to death for, but it was her own dumb fault for not researching the laws first.
So here she sat, meditating as Luke had taught her. The Force flowed through her, and she felt somewhat calmed. At least she could face death with her dignity intact.
She opened her eyes, hearing the click of the door lock being disengaged. A guard pointed a blaster at her, ordered her to get up and face the back of the cell. Mara complied, and they cuffed her hands and feet.
They led her to a visitor's room, and before they opened the door she felt a mind reach out to her. It was still shielded, so the thought it sent felt full of echoes: 'Follow my lead.'
Mara tensed and looked around. Was someone going to stage a prison break for her? She'd be ready for that. Accepting your death and wanting it were two very different things.
She went through the door, and found herself looking at a stranger.