Adaptation is the key to survival.
It was almost too easy. All that was left was the cleanup, which was better than the battle any day.
Shmi had handed Anakin over to Obi-Wan— a show of trust Obi-Wan doubted anyone but he and Shmi understood the significance of— while she helped coordinate with the slaves. Qui-Gon and Tholme went in for what was bound to be a very awkward holocall with the Council.
Obi-Wan assisted with the injured, bouncing Anakin in the birikad, strapped to his front. Anakin was docile and sweet, despite the less than hospitable environment. Obi-Wan crouched to examine a slave who had taken an injury; a long cut up her arm.
"Not fatal," Obi-Wan told her, giving her a reassuring smile. "You'll be all right. Wait over there, please."
Triage came almost naturally to Obi-Wan, as a man who had been on both ends of it many a time.
Two Twi'leks, an adult and a youngling, approached Obi-Wan next. They looked similar enough that Obi-Wan thought they were probably related. A happy incidence, then, that they had been found now. A few more days and they probably never would have seen each other again.
"He got trampled, in the fighting," the older said, anxiety in his eyes.
"May I?" Obi-Wan asked, still crouched. Anakin was a comfortable weight on his chest, and didn't stir, letting Obi-Wan have his hands free. The youngling nodded warily. He gently probed along the child's wrist, first with his fingers then with the Force. "Broken," he said, then repeated it in Ryl. "Hurts?"
The child nodded, lip wobbling.
"Let's see what we can do about that, then, yes?" Obi-Wan asked. Gently, he held the broken wrist and wrapped the Force around it, dulling the pain and snapping the bone into place all at once. His Healer's skills were coming in handy.
The child's eyes widened, and so did the other Twi'lek's. "Thank you," said the youngling, then the older. "Thank you."
Obi-Wan waved them off, embarrassed. He stood, cupping Anakin's head, and turned to the next round of triage. He directed a sprained ankle to low priority and a slightly more serious concussion over to immediate treatment.
Some of the slaves had medical experience; folk medicine, developed for helping people as quickly and inexpensively and unobtrusively as they could. Obi-Wan could bet that he could learn more from them than he could in a couple years at the Temple.
"You shouldn't be expending the Force so easily," Qui-Gon said, coming up behind him. "Not after so long being cut off."
"I won't overextend," Obi-Wan said. "I know my limits."
The slaves from the first trip, the "guests'' of the Controllers, had set down by now too. They were helping where they could, bandaging wounds or keeping watch over the captured slavers and hired guns.
Qui-Gon gave him a doubting look, but let it lie. "Hello, Anakin," he greeted.
Anakin gave him a cheerful look and a nonsensical babble in return.
"Indeed," Obi-Wan said, as if agreeing with him. "How did it go?"
"Well, technically, we didn't interfere. The slaves more or less did this on their own, and we merely helped out in order to rescue our padawans," Qui-Gon said. "Not to mention that now the slaves and the Mandalorians have now actually requested our help on this. What kind of Jedi would we be if we didn't help?"
"They bought that?"
"Not at all," Qui-Gon said.
Obi-Wan grinned. "Did you get permission to arrest the Hutt syndicate? We have pretty good evidence that they were breaking Republic laws in Republic space."
"These ones, yes," Qui-Gon said. "Not the ones on Nal Hutta or any of the other Hutt worlds. Though the Senate is not happy about even this."
"I'll bet." More planets than cared to admit it relied on the Hutts to stimulate the economics of their planets without Republic control. Things had gotten better since Palpatine had been very thoroughly removed from office, but politicians could always be counted on to be politicians.
"The audio from the worm you slipped into one of the Controllers' pockets helped too," Qui-Gon said. "Evidence enough of their atrocities."
Obi-Wan perked up. "You got useable audio?"
"Yes," Qui-Gon said. "Actually, Tholme and I were just going over the recording— I had hoped to get you or Shmi to translate this." He dug in the pockets of his robe and found a small recording device.
Obi-Wan bounced Anakin idly up and down as they listened.
At first it was typical posturing threats from Jerga and a few other Hutts— one of which, Obi-Wan was fairly sure, was Jabba. His nose crinkled with distaste. The female Controller clearly understood Huttese, but like a lot of people preferred not to speak it. The Hutts almost all understood Basic anyway, and they just liked making people translate for them as a power play.
"Mama won't be happy about this," said one of the Hutts. "She doesn't want us bringing attention to the Summit." Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. That sounded promising.
"What's the point of leaving home if we're not going to make a profit off it?" another Hutt grumbled.
"We'll do a quiet auction," said another. "Just for a couple credits. Just to make the trip worth it."
Hutts were, if nothing else, eminently predictable.
"What are they saying?" Qui-Gon asked.
Obi-Wan frowned. "Can you get Shmi over here?"
While Qui-Gon waved her over, Obi-Wan listened to the recording, tilting his head.
"We'll sell the upstarts, then get the rest of the cargo gone," Jerga said.
"No!" the Controller burst out in Basic, this apparently being too much for her. This was probably what had interested Tholme and Qui-Gon in the first place, as opposed to the minutes of Huttese that they couldn't understand. "Look, I'm useful! I can fight! You don't have to get rid of me. I could be a good bodyguard! A hired hand!"
The Hutts laughed.
In real life, Shmi approached. She didn't ask for Anakin back— another show of trust. Instead she just patted his head. "What is it?"
"Do you recognize what this is?" Obi-Wan asked, scrolling through the recording. "I know the word, but not in this context."
He played the clip again— the Hutts talking about something called the Summit. Shmi's eyes widened. She uttered a soft oath.
"The Summit," she said. "The Hutt Business Summit."
Obi-Wan started to grin.
"And what's that?" Qui-Gon asked.
"It's a very rare event," Shmi said thoughtfully. "Not more than once every few years. It is when the Hutt families gather to break bread, count up recent profits, and resolve any leadership disputes. All slaves know of it— it is usually a holiday on slave worlds. Even the cruellest master usually tightens their grip once the Hutts are gone."
"And it's here," Obi-Wan said, almost bouncing now. Anakin picked up on his excitement and started waving his hands and babbling.
"Why's that good?" Qui-Gon asked.
Shmi had a hand over her mouth to cover the slowly growing smile on her own face. "The Senate would never go after all the Hutts at once. Too much political and economic power, not to mention the sheer logistics—"
"You're right," Obi-Wan said. "We'd never get permission for that. But what we do have is permission to arrest every Hutt on this planet."
"We could take out most of the galaxy's slavery operations in one swoop," Shmi said, awed.
"Just so long as they don't get away," Qui-Gon said.
"I think that can be arranged," Obi-Wan said.
Qui-Gon's comm beeped. He answered it, and Xanatos popped up over the device, flickering blue. "You were right, a few Hutts got away," he said. "I found them. They're getting on a sail barge right now."
Shmi and Obi-Wan exchanged looks. Without a word, she started helping him wrestle out of Anakin's baby harness, transferring him smoothly over to Shmi.
"Where?" Qui-Gon asked.
"There's a hangar down here," Xanatos said. Qui-Gon looked to Obi-Wan, who nodded. He had been in enough bases to know where the hangar would probably be— a place where ships could take off, especially something as big as a sail barge, slightly underground but opened up to a clear shot for space— yes, Obi-Wan had seen a door on their way through the facility that would probably lead them there.
"All right. We'll be right there," Qui-Gon said.
Obi-Wan leaned into field of the hologram. "Get a speeder warmed up for us."
"Yes sir," Xanatos said dryly.
Qui-Gon shut off the comm.
"Go," Shmi said.
Obi-Wan and his master took off in a blur. Traversing the facility was much easier now that the former slaves had cleared out all the bad guys and liberally destroyed almost everything they could see.
Obi-Wan had been right about the hangar bay. It was easy enough to find, and they got there just in time to see the Hutt's sail barge taking off into the distance.
Xanatos pulled up next to them in an open-air speeder. "What now?" he said.
"Let me drive!" Obi-Wan said, clambering over him into the seat.
"Force, kid, manners," Xanatos said, being jostled into the backseat as Qui-Gon got into the passenger. "Where are we goi— kriiiiff—"
Obi-Wan shot the speeder forward at full speed.
Hutt sail barges were popular sources of on-planet transportation for the Hutts and whatever slaves or servants they decided to bring along. They were big hulking things but surprisingly fast, which meant if they let it get too far away they could lose them.
And the Hutts, being smart business-wise but having few other priorities quite like keeping themselves safe, would be making a beeline to the closest safe haven. In this case, it would be where all the Hutt elders had holed up. The matriarchs and patriarchs of the Hutts were usually too big and too venerable to move about. If they were anywhere, they would be keeping themselves safe somewhere with a lot of food and far away from their offspring.
"Slow down," Xanatos said, and Obi-Wan noticed that even Qui-Gon was looking quite pale.
"I know what I'm doing," Obi-Wan said, affronted, taking the speeder towards the sight of the barge in the distance. "We can't lose them."
"Yes, we have to stop them from leaving the planet, but we can't if we die—" Qui-Gon said, his knuckles white where they gripped the side of the speeder.
Obi-Wan was starting to sympathize with Anakin Skywalker, something he tried not to do if at all possible. Really, if they were going to complain about a little flying, which wasn't even that crazy to begin with— Obi-Wan swerved around a column on a hairpin turn— they just as well might not have come. At least when Obi-Wan scolded his padawan for flying crazy, it was because he was flying them through electrical couplings or leaping from the speeder in mid-air.
"Don't be fussy," Obi-Wan said. "Oh, hold onto something, we're about to reach the edge of the biodome."
Obi-Wan realized he had no idea what lay outside the artificial life inside the dome. He had been fairly busy being unconscious when they were brought in here. Well, if it was something bad, now was the time for Qui-Gon, Xanatos, or the Force to warn him.
They zoomed through the permeable edge of the dome with a thick, soupy feeling. The atmosphere was immediately different, from thick and humid to arid and, well—
Obi-Wan yelped. "Cold!"
"Nar Hekka," Qui-Gon said, with grim amusement. "Not suitable for life until the Hutts established their domes."
"Force," Obi-Wan said, only stopping himself from taking his hands off the steering wheel to tuck them under his armpits with conscious effort. There was white snow in all directions— flat and featureless, with very few rock or ice formations. A dead planet.
"We have to go back," Xanatos said, hunched in on himself in the back. Freezing air, interspersed with bits of ice, flung itself at them as the speeder kicked it up. "They'll see us immediately on this landscape."
"So we hitch a ride with them," Obi-Wan said. "No big deal."
"I'm starting to be afraid of what that means in your world," Xanatos griped. "Just hurry up and do whatever you're going to do before I freeze off my… lightsaber."
Obi-Wan grinned. "Hutts like warm planets. They won't be out on the sundeck. Which means they won't spot us if we come up behind them."
"Yes, but we can't stay so close forever without crashing into them or making an error and straying too far," Qui-Gon said, over the wind.
"That's why we get a ride from them," Obi-Wan explained again, missing Anakin— the adult one— once more. They rarely even had to discuss their plans, just a wink or a nod or a brush of the goatee, and they were off. "Just hold on. You'll see."
The Hutt yacht was visible now. It was an ugly thing, designed for gaudy luxury and impressive heights more than anything. It wasn't the one Obi-Wan had seen rarely in the distance on Tatooine, the one he'd watched from the other world while Luke and his friends destroyed it, but it might as well have been. It was designed very similarly, except it would move over ice better than sand.
Obi-Wan pulled the speeder up within a few feet or so of the barge.
"Take the controls, please," Obi-Wan said, and didn't wait for Qui-Gon to respond before climbing out onto the nose of the speeder. Qui-Gon lurched to grab the steering.
"You're crazy, padawan," Qui-Gon said.
"Don't worry," Obi-Wan shouted back. "I've done this a hundred times!"
"No you haven't!" Qui-Gon said.
"Oh," Obi-Wan said, with a grin. "Right. This should be fun then." He jumped and grabbed onto the back of the barge deftly. He heard Xanatos swearing behind him, and smiled again to himself.
Obi-Wan prodded the panelling on the metal, and was unsurprised when he revealed a small panel set into the ship. It opened, revealing a keypad. Obi-Wan took a hand off the ship— inciting more swearing behind him— to use the Force to help him slice into the mechanisms. The panel blinked green, and the back of the ship began to open.
Access panel. Everyone always forgot to secure those, because they were mostly used by droids and servants.
Obi-Wan hung onto the side and gestured for Qui-Gon to fly the speeder inside. Qui-Gon glared, but he did, and Obi-Wan set the door to close again before flipping neatly and landing inside the speeder as it powered down inside the barge.
"You're going to be the death of me," Qui-Gon said.
Obi-Wan didn't think that was very funny. "They won't be coming down here," he said. "We can hide here safely for a while." They disembarked the speeder.
It smelled like engine grease and motor oil down this deep, where the Hutts would not care to go— away from the drinks cart and various lounging couches up above. Various pipes and wires hung from the ceiling above, crowded in with tools and mechanical parts.
An ominous pair of glowing red eyes suddenly flickered in front of them. Xanatos ignited his lightsaber quickly.
"No, don't!" Obi-Wan said, as the light of the saber illuminated the room, and along with it several droids. "They're harmless."
The eyes proved to belong to a protocol droid, a clunky old model with several parts grafted onto it. It whirred.
"Don't be afraid," Obi-Wan said. "Come here, my little friend."
"They're Hutt droids," Xanatos said. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at him.
"Please don't tell the Hutts that we're here," Obi-Wan said to the droid. It tilted a head at him. "I'm going to remove your restraining bolts, all right?"
Various other droids emerged from the shadows, beeping hopefully. Little B-D units, valet droids, astromechs. Many of them had been modded to hold drink trays or other functions outside their original purview. It was not a difficult leap to bet they were not happy with their lives here.
Removing a droid restraining bolt was easy enough, especially the cheap type the Hutts were using, the same kind that two-bit smugglers used all over the galaxy. A droid could pry it off themselves if it hadn't been programmed into the bolt not to let them, and if they were willing to endure a little electric shock, and if they knew to do it in the first place.
They were eager enough to get their restraining bolts off— one droid rolled forward first, bravely.
"Wha—" Obi-Wan said. "Artoo!"
R2D2, in the flesh, beeped at him suspiciously.
"Of course I know you!" Obi-Wan said, getting down on his knees to be on R2's level. "You're R2D2!" He started working on R2's bolt, one hand resting on his familiar metal dome. He had never been particularly close with Anakin's droid, but he was glad to see him now. He had always assumed R2 was of Nubian make, but he supposed he had never really known the droid's true backstory before the fateful day on the Queen's cruiser.
Artoo whistled. "I am not weird," Obi-Wan said, offended.
The restraining bolt popped off, and Artoo let out a delighted beep, spinning in a few testing circles.
Obi-Wan grinned. He finally remembered he had an audience when the lights flickered on, and looked up sheepishly to find Xanatos with his hand on a lightswitch and Qui-Gon giving him a fond and exasperated look.
"Sorry, Master," Obi-Wan said. "I got us in, didn't I?"
The other droids clustered around for their turns.
At least it would give them something to do.
Chapter header from TCW - 3X18 The Citadel
Mando'a translations:
Birikad - baby carrying harness.