Chapter 3
Slave I
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Denburn Kyjark held his cloak tightly around himself as he strode
through the Deviator's halls; the very air in the ship seemed evil. Two of
Kanruyen Branober's personal guards, deceptively innocent in royal blue
robes, accompanied him towards Branober's receiving room. With each step,
Kyjark wanted more and more to turn around and run. Only the desire to
live kept him from doing just that.
After nineteen years, thought Kyjark, why did this particular skeleton have to come out of the closet? In the time since the raid on the Van-Dessel royal residence on Henber, Kyjark had cleaned up his life. He had a wife, son, and promising business on Coruscant; he couldn't be associated with the likes of Branober, not anymore. There was once a time when he would have done anything for a good-sized stack of credits, but that was the old Commander Kyjark. Denburn had buried that self long ago, when he had seen just how far gone Kanruyen Branober was.
Even now, when Kyjark closed his eyes, he could see the smoldering remains of the ransacked and demolished house on Henber. Servants' bodies lay strewn among the rubble, like their masters aboard the Freeflight, an undisturbed tomb deep in space.
As Kyjark speculated on what his old employer would ask him to do, his thoughts strayed to his wife, Eneera. She and Ofen, his son, would be homeless and penniless if he did not return. All their assets were locked up in stocks and insurance, hopelessly tangled in red tape. If Kyjark were to be killed on this trip, Eneera and Ofen would be no better off than the scum in below-ground Coruscant. Denburn knew that whatever Branober asked, he would have to do, for the sake of his family. The thought weighed on him heavily; he had wanted to turn the corner from a bad life to a good one and never look back, but it seemed that he hadn't gotten far before Branober called due old debts.
Long before Kyjark was ready, the double doors of Branober's receiving chamber were sighted at the end of the hall. The ex-mercenary commander steeled himself, then followed the guards inside.
"Commander Kyjark," Kanruyen Branober's voice was smooth and deadly.
"Just Kyjark," Denburn corrected calmly.
"Ahh, yes," Branober smiled indulgently, "You've cleaned up your act, haven't you? Well, I must say that is very good--for you--but it could also prove beneficial for me, too. You see, there is something that I still haven't got, something I have been searching for for a lifetime. Do you know what it is?"
"The Nondiran Files," Kyjark said without pause.
"Yes, yes, good memory, Commander."
"I'm not a commander, Branober; I haven't got any troops at my beck and call."
"Yes, that is a problem, isn't it..."
"I'm useless to you! Please, just let me go back to my wife, my son, my business. I'll be of no help at all!"
"You're very modest, Commander, but I'm afraid you don't understand. I'm hiring you as the new commander of my personal troops as we search for those files; what do you say?"
Kyjark paused before answering, forcing the words through unwilling lips. "Sounds...great."
Branober noted the lack of enthusiasm, but chose not to regard it. He knew the situation that Kyjark was in, and it fit his plans perfectly. "Very well, now I must fill you in on all that must be done, and done quickly."
Kyjark moaned inwardly; so much for starting over. He could only hope that the files would be found speedily and quietly. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Annbri awoke, she wished he hadn't. Her mind reeling, she slumped back down on the pallet, allowing waves of hopelessness to wash over her. After ten minutes or so, a helmeted head appeared beside the cage. Boba Fett was silent for a moment, then handed her a small packet of freeze-dried food. Annbri turned away from him, her stomach knotting up at the thought of consuming anything.
"I have to keep you alive," insisted Fett, tossing the packet onto the end of the pallet, "You're no good to me dead."
Annbri turned back to glare at him. How could anyone be so completely selfish? She kicked the packet, sending it flying across the cage, coming to a stop on the durasteel floor across from her.
"Suit yourself," said Fett impassively, turning to leave.
"Where are we going?" challenged Annbri to his back.
"That's a very good question." Fett climbed the ladder up to the cockpit and silence held dominion over the cage area once more.
Annbri swore in fifteen different languages as she bored angry holes in the food packet with her eyes. If Fett thought that she would live to fetch a large sum for him, he was wrong! She would starve herself to death before helping him.
Annbri drifted in and out of consciousness for the next hour, and finally unable to sleep any longer, she rose to take a turn about the cell. Her hunger won over her resolve, and she peeped inside the food packet, then devoured its contents, mentally kicking herself all the while.
Feeling guilty, she leaned against the door to gather her thoughts. Suddenly, her support gave way, and she tumbled out onto the floor. A small, surprised cry escaped her lips, which she quickly silenced. Had Fett really left the door to her cage open? She couldn't imagine him being so careless as to forget, but it was equally hard to imagine him wanting her to escape. Disbelieving her luck even as she slipped down the short hall to the only way out, the ladder to the cockpit, she smiled to herself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Boba Fett checked his course on the ship's datascreen. So far, Slave I was right on target for Henber, the only connection Fett had to go on. He turned back to his datapad, where a picture of Anmei Van Dessel in all her splendor opened an encyclopedia article about the last Matriarch of the Van Dessel household. Boba Fett had read it dozens of times before, but this time he was looking at the picture more carefully. He could easily see the familial resemblance, the delicate features, and the graceful poise that clearly linked Annbri the slave to the Royal House of Van Dessel. The only problem was, so many people had come forward, claiming to be the lost Heir of Van Dessel, that the royal houses of Henber had refused to listen to any more claims. This, Boba knew, would seriously jeopardize his scheme.
He wondered briefly whether Annbri had discovered that her door was not locked yet. He checked the cage recording monitor just in time to see her tumble into the hall. The sound of boots on the ladder behind him confirmed what Fett had just seen.
Without turning around, Fett spoke. "Hello."
"Why wasn't it locked?" Annbri covered the distance between them with a few long strides. She pointed forcefully towards the ladder from whence she had come and repeated, "Why not?"
"Did you want it to be locked?" Boba Fett was slightly amused.
"Well, no, but shouldn't it have been? I mean, why would you want me wandering around your ship?"
"There's not many places you could have gone except here."
"You're avoiding the question. Why wasn't it locked?"
"It was a test."
"A test for what?" Annbri threw up her hands in exasperation.
"To see whether you were smart enough not to try to escape. You passed."
Annbri rolled her eyes. "Hooray."
"Don't be stupid."
"Fine, just fine. So what does happen to me now?"
"You will go into partnership with me. I am correct in assuming that you are curious about your family?"
"Yes..."
"I, too, am searching for them. In order for my plan to work, we must work together to find the long-lost Nondiran Files. Without them, we can prove nothing."
"A partnership, with you?"
"Yes."
"And what if I say no?"
"You would go back inside that cage for considerably longer, and it would be locked this time."
"I'll say yes." Annbri wished she could see Fett's face as he nodded once, then silently turned back to his controls. She wanted to pull off his helmet, see the man few had ever laid eyes upon. She was so close... She stretched out a hand to touch the back of his helmet, but withdrew it just before contact. For some reason, she could not bring herself to do it.
"I knew you weren't as stupid as most slaves," Fett's expressionless voice said, "They would have carried through with that plan." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After nineteen years, thought Kyjark, why did this particular skeleton have to come out of the closet? In the time since the raid on the Van-Dessel royal residence on Henber, Kyjark had cleaned up his life. He had a wife, son, and promising business on Coruscant; he couldn't be associated with the likes of Branober, not anymore. There was once a time when he would have done anything for a good-sized stack of credits, but that was the old Commander Kyjark. Denburn had buried that self long ago, when he had seen just how far gone Kanruyen Branober was.
Even now, when Kyjark closed his eyes, he could see the smoldering remains of the ransacked and demolished house on Henber. Servants' bodies lay strewn among the rubble, like their masters aboard the Freeflight, an undisturbed tomb deep in space.
As Kyjark speculated on what his old employer would ask him to do, his thoughts strayed to his wife, Eneera. She and Ofen, his son, would be homeless and penniless if he did not return. All their assets were locked up in stocks and insurance, hopelessly tangled in red tape. If Kyjark were to be killed on this trip, Eneera and Ofen would be no better off than the scum in below-ground Coruscant. Denburn knew that whatever Branober asked, he would have to do, for the sake of his family. The thought weighed on him heavily; he had wanted to turn the corner from a bad life to a good one and never look back, but it seemed that he hadn't gotten far before Branober called due old debts.
Long before Kyjark was ready, the double doors of Branober's receiving chamber were sighted at the end of the hall. The ex-mercenary commander steeled himself, then followed the guards inside.
"Commander Kyjark," Kanruyen Branober's voice was smooth and deadly.
"Just Kyjark," Denburn corrected calmly.
"Ahh, yes," Branober smiled indulgently, "You've cleaned up your act, haven't you? Well, I must say that is very good--for you--but it could also prove beneficial for me, too. You see, there is something that I still haven't got, something I have been searching for for a lifetime. Do you know what it is?"
"The Nondiran Files," Kyjark said without pause.
"Yes, yes, good memory, Commander."
"I'm not a commander, Branober; I haven't got any troops at my beck and call."
"Yes, that is a problem, isn't it..."
"I'm useless to you! Please, just let me go back to my wife, my son, my business. I'll be of no help at all!"
"You're very modest, Commander, but I'm afraid you don't understand. I'm hiring you as the new commander of my personal troops as we search for those files; what do you say?"
Kyjark paused before answering, forcing the words through unwilling lips. "Sounds...great."
Branober noted the lack of enthusiasm, but chose not to regard it. He knew the situation that Kyjark was in, and it fit his plans perfectly. "Very well, now I must fill you in on all that must be done, and done quickly."
Kyjark moaned inwardly; so much for starting over. He could only hope that the files would be found speedily and quietly. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Annbri awoke, she wished he hadn't. Her mind reeling, she slumped back down on the pallet, allowing waves of hopelessness to wash over her. After ten minutes or so, a helmeted head appeared beside the cage. Boba Fett was silent for a moment, then handed her a small packet of freeze-dried food. Annbri turned away from him, her stomach knotting up at the thought of consuming anything.
"I have to keep you alive," insisted Fett, tossing the packet onto the end of the pallet, "You're no good to me dead."
Annbri turned back to glare at him. How could anyone be so completely selfish? She kicked the packet, sending it flying across the cage, coming to a stop on the durasteel floor across from her.
"Suit yourself," said Fett impassively, turning to leave.
"Where are we going?" challenged Annbri to his back.
"That's a very good question." Fett climbed the ladder up to the cockpit and silence held dominion over the cage area once more.
Annbri swore in fifteen different languages as she bored angry holes in the food packet with her eyes. If Fett thought that she would live to fetch a large sum for him, he was wrong! She would starve herself to death before helping him.
Annbri drifted in and out of consciousness for the next hour, and finally unable to sleep any longer, she rose to take a turn about the cell. Her hunger won over her resolve, and she peeped inside the food packet, then devoured its contents, mentally kicking herself all the while.
Feeling guilty, she leaned against the door to gather her thoughts. Suddenly, her support gave way, and she tumbled out onto the floor. A small, surprised cry escaped her lips, which she quickly silenced. Had Fett really left the door to her cage open? She couldn't imagine him being so careless as to forget, but it was equally hard to imagine him wanting her to escape. Disbelieving her luck even as she slipped down the short hall to the only way out, the ladder to the cockpit, she smiled to herself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Boba Fett checked his course on the ship's datascreen. So far, Slave I was right on target for Henber, the only connection Fett had to go on. He turned back to his datapad, where a picture of Anmei Van Dessel in all her splendor opened an encyclopedia article about the last Matriarch of the Van Dessel household. Boba Fett had read it dozens of times before, but this time he was looking at the picture more carefully. He could easily see the familial resemblance, the delicate features, and the graceful poise that clearly linked Annbri the slave to the Royal House of Van Dessel. The only problem was, so many people had come forward, claiming to be the lost Heir of Van Dessel, that the royal houses of Henber had refused to listen to any more claims. This, Boba knew, would seriously jeopardize his scheme.
He wondered briefly whether Annbri had discovered that her door was not locked yet. He checked the cage recording monitor just in time to see her tumble into the hall. The sound of boots on the ladder behind him confirmed what Fett had just seen.
Without turning around, Fett spoke. "Hello."
"Why wasn't it locked?" Annbri covered the distance between them with a few long strides. She pointed forcefully towards the ladder from whence she had come and repeated, "Why not?"
"Did you want it to be locked?" Boba Fett was slightly amused.
"Well, no, but shouldn't it have been? I mean, why would you want me wandering around your ship?"
"There's not many places you could have gone except here."
"You're avoiding the question. Why wasn't it locked?"
"It was a test."
"A test for what?" Annbri threw up her hands in exasperation.
"To see whether you were smart enough not to try to escape. You passed."
Annbri rolled her eyes. "Hooray."
"Don't be stupid."
"Fine, just fine. So what does happen to me now?"
"You will go into partnership with me. I am correct in assuming that you are curious about your family?"
"Yes..."
"I, too, am searching for them. In order for my plan to work, we must work together to find the long-lost Nondiran Files. Without them, we can prove nothing."
"A partnership, with you?"
"Yes."
"And what if I say no?"
"You would go back inside that cage for considerably longer, and it would be locked this time."
"I'll say yes." Annbri wished she could see Fett's face as he nodded once, then silently turned back to his controls. She wanted to pull off his helmet, see the man few had ever laid eyes upon. She was so close... She stretched out a hand to touch the back of his helmet, but withdrew it just before contact. For some reason, she could not bring herself to do it.
"I knew you weren't as stupid as most slaves," Fett's expressionless voice said, "They would have carried through with that plan." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~