He felt the wind rush through his hair, he felt the grip of Padmé's small but deadly hands firmly against his torso, he felt in his hands the controls of the speeder, every movement, every motion subject to his whims, and it was in moments like these that he felt he was truly in heaven. The dark canyons of the nightlands flew by below them, the moonlight sharpening the edge of every cliff and ledge. Here, lost to the night, away from all their restrictions, they were free. Padmé, a Sith master, his avenging angel, bringing the cruel hand of justice to those who deserved it. And he...well, he would be whatever she wanted him to be.
Of course Padmé had a plan. The bounty hunter assumed the party that hired him was just one of Ryloth's many insurgent cells, the assignment to bomb the room of a Republic senator. Her instructions had been precise, the bounty hunter did well, with Padmé subtly guiding the bomb from the bounty hunter's plant to its final location, no one was truly harmed besides a few cleaning droids and the bank accounts of the government, one that Padmé assumed was corrupt anyhow, so she cared little for their expense. The bombing gave them time to flee, to see the planet away from the watchful eyes of their protection, and she had all their next steps planned out.
"Where do we go now," he asked once he found a spare speeder.
"Where do you think the slavers are," she whispered into his ear.
He thought for a few moments. "Where they can gather the most slaves. Where the war is."
Of course the Governor downplayed the war to representatives of the Republic. It was local in nature, and mostly contained to a few specific sectors, he claimed. Padmé knew better to trust him, and her contacts told her otherwise, that the insurgents were steadily gaining ground through the nightlands, the half of the planet that never saw the light of their sun. Most of it was empty ground, of course, but they had taken control of the few cities on the harsher half of the planet and, just as significantly, controlled most of the mines as well as the supply routes fueling the planet's industry on the other side.
Not satisfied with occupation with one half of the planet, the insurgents were moving to broach the dawn zone, the dividing line where the skies were permanently split between light and dark. The cliff city of Rajar, the hub of the dawnlands where half a dozen trade routes converged through a rare break in both terrain and atmospheric winds, was the obvious hinge point of the upcoming battle, and it was here that Padmé decided they would begin their quest for answers.
"We've got company," Anakin said. They both felt it, and soon enough, the display panel warned them of five ships approaching them from the opposite direction.
"Unidentified ship, identify yourself," a scaly voice ordered over the comm.
"We represent the Republic and come in peace," Padmé said calmly. The response was curt.
"Turn around and leave the quadrant. This is your first and last warning."
Anakin shrugged as Padmé unlatched a small contraption tied over her back. "Well, we tried."
She took the first shots, firing two guided rockets that took down two of the incoming ships before they even knew what hit them. They had finally stopped on Kamino after destroying Jabba's palace, where they had killed the bounty hunter, Fett, whom Sifo-Dyas had chosen to be the clone template. The Mandalorian left a treasure trove of weapons in his quarters, as well as a young child. The kid they mind-wiped and sent off to an orphanage on Corellia, and the weapons Anakin had further tinkered with until they were perfect for their purposes.
"Hang on," Anakin yelled back as he spun their speeder to dodge the enemy fire. More backup ships flew onto their radar, and Padmé shot true at them even as she clung on for her life hanging upside down. They breezed past several ships, who turned abruptly into pursuit. Anakin slammed suddenly on the brakes and jammed the propellers, plunging hundreds of feet down as one of the enemy ships swerved and crashed into one of its compatriots.
"Fuck!" Padmé rarely lost her composure, but she could not tolerate her own failure in the heat of battle. Several of her shots missed, missiles flying harmlessly into the canyon walls as they entered the narrow ravine before they had a chance to pivot back to their targets. She felt Anakin swerve the speeder more violently, left to right to left to right, daring their pursuers to follow, as she slung her rocket launcher, now empty, back over her shoulder. Without a pause, she closed her eyes, concentrating on the fast moving battle around her, and Force pushed several of the ships into the cliffs. With only one ship left, Anakin relaxed his evasive maneuvers, and Padmé squeezed her hand together, crushing even from a distance the ship and its pilot alike.
"The computer traced the origin of those ships to a small factory outside the city," Anakin said. "I'll be on the lookout for more bogeys."
"It's odd," Padmé said. "I've seen no reports of rebel forces in Rajar yet."
"Wonder if that was a vanguard. Those definitely weren't the governor's ships."
"Not officially at least."
They flew low to the ground on the approach to a large factory that, like many of the buildings and cities on Ryloth, was built into the sandstone cliffs. The structure looked like it had been abandoned for years, yet there was a flurry of activity within its confines, and they both sensed fear, panic, and sadness emanating from the building.
"Slavers," Padmé whispered after they docked their speeder on a small cliff above. There was a frenzy of activity below, as several slavers rushed a few dozen captives onto a small transport.
"They must be worried their friends haven't returned yet." Anakin pulled out a small blaster. They were operating on Republic grounds here, so they couldn't reveal their abilities in the Force unless there were guaranteed to be no living witnesses. "Let's give them a taste of that medicine."
They jumped down onto the platform and started firing on the slavers, advancing relentlessly. The few remaining slavers panicked and started running for their transport, not even bothering to fire back. None of them even made it close to the ramp, and soon it was just the two of them and about thirty twi'lek would be slaves, mostly younger females, along with a few children. Anakin turned his attention to a lone female standing by the dock, a datapad in her hand. She looked maybe Padmé's age, maybe a little younger, but she was older than most of the others gathered.
"You," Anakin said sternly, blaster raised, "you were processing them."
"I...I was...," the young woman stammered. A young male twi'lek jumped out of the ship fearlessly, and both turned their blasters on him, with only his panicked look of concern for the other woman stopping them.
"Please," he yelled out. "We're not your enemies. Kara's a slave too."
Anakin looked over at Padmé, who nodded. The young twi'lek seemed sincere enough. "Who's onboard the ship," she asked.
"Only a few captives, sir. They lost contact with the rest of the party and were in a rush to leave."
"We killed the rest of their party," Anakin said darkly, as he heard hushed whispers among the rest of the captives, and felt a sense of hope rise echo through the empty room.
"We weren't...," the woman called Kara started, but Anakin quieted her with a hush.
"I understand," he said. As a former slave himself, he knew that oftentimes they had little choice but to follow their owners' orders, no matter how despicable. The alternative wasn't death sometimes, but torture of not just themselves, but their families and friends were they captive as well. "Who do you belong to?"
"Koen," Kara said.
"You're a rebel then," Padmé asked. Koen I'llirio belonged to one of the chief clans backing the rebellion.
"My name is Wipper. Some of those you killed were commandos, scouting out the city's defenses. Others were pirates hired by the clans to reap the city for potential...prisoners."
"A raiding party," inquired Padmé.
Wipper nodded. "They want to collect their goods before they're damaged by the battle."
"Are you going to turn us into the Governor's guard," Kara asked fearfully.
"No," Anakin said. "We represent the Republic, and as of now, the Republic has not chosen to take a side in this conflict. Besides, you were slaves. You had no choice."
"That doesn't matter to the regime here," Kara replied. "Me...maybe they'll mind me useful...but Wipper...they might just see him as another combatant and..."
"We won't turn you in," Padmé said gently, stepping up and putting her hand reassuringly on Kara's forearm. "Our first priority is returning these...these kids back to where they belong. Were they taken from Rajar?"
"Some of them won't have any homes to return to," Wipper said, his eyes shameful at what his masters had done.
"As long as the city can provide food and shelter, that will be good enough for now." Padmé gestured towards the captives for them to board the transport. Some still looked at them with distrust, but with little other choice, they obeyed.
"We'll return to the capital to see if the Governor can provide any additional aid. That should give you time to escape."
"Yes," Kara said, but her downturned eyes indicated that she did not believe her words. She looked back at the two Sith, eyes hopeful and fearful at the same time. "What should we call you by?"
They looked at each other. Neither had revealed any Force abilities to anyone here, but still it didn't hurt to be safe.
"Leia Thule," Padmé said. "And my husband, Luke."
"They're shipped to various corners of the galaxy after the bids come in." Kara talked as Anakin ran the scanner over her body in the waiting room of the local mayor's office. "I try to make sure they're comfortable while they wait...but..."
"It's okay. There's nothing more you could do." Anakin could feel her exude guilt, even though she deserved to feel none. "You had no choice."
"There's always a choice," she insisted. "I'm good at organizing things. They saw that, and they decided to use me that way rather than...other kinds of slavery. But I could have chosen death. Should have."
"Then you wouldn't be here today," Anakin said. "Now you can help others with your skills."
"I'm not sure if there's much I can do in a war zone. Wipper's a fighter though. He's always been, ever since they took him as a youngling."
"You care for him," Anakin asked.
"He's a friend," Kara said thoughtfully. "Probably the only friend I have."
"He's in love with you, you know." The chip scanner beeped as it passed over the back of her left shoulder.
"He's just a child," Kara protested mildly.
"He's about my age, and I've been with...Leia, for many years now."
"Maybe it's different with you core people. How can you be so sure?" She seemed dismissive, Anakin thought, yet intrigued by the revelation. As a slave, she had obviously not bothered to consider such trifling things such as romance.
Anakin closed his eyes and hovered the palm of his hand above the spot where the scanner told him the inhibitor chip would be. He could see it in his mind, every circuit, ever wire, every groove along its small surface. It was a standard issue, one they had encountered hundreds of times before, and with a delicate movement of his fingers, he deactivated it with the Force. Padmé was much better at this, but it was his custom scanner that ensured that they never failed to locate the inhibitor chips.
"You're free now," Anakin said matter-of-factly, as if the news wasn't life changing for the woman. "If you ever get to the medcenter, you can tell them the chip is here...," he pointed to the spot on her upper back. "I'd remove it now but we don't have the tools."
Kara's eyes widened in disbelief. "How...how did you do it?"
"The scanner," Anakin lied. "It remotes in and jams the frequency until it breaks." He rose, studying the painted gray walls of the small waiting room in the mayor's office. Padmé and Wipper were out in the city, repatriating the captives. "I met her when I was nine," he said, resuming their previous topic. "I was a slave too, out in the Outer Rim."
"This is personal for you," Kara said in realization.
"For both of us. Leia was part of the party that freed me. She took me in, freed my mother, gave me a place to live...an education. I love her, she is my life." He turned and for the first time the twi'lek woman felt the sheer intensity of her savior's blue eyes, "and I see the same longing in his eyes. He worships you...just like I worshiped her...before our love was requited."
"There's still a war going on," Kara said, trying to dismiss the young man's suggestions. "This isn't the time for love."
"When else then, when you stand to lose at any time everything you care about?"
Just then, the lobby door burst open, and the subject of their conversation ran eagerly in.
"Kara! I'm free now! She freed me!" Without reservation, he ran in to hug his friend and fellow former slave.
She looked at warily Anakin as they hugged. What would have been an innocent action just minutes before suddenly had new meaning in her eyes. "Me too, Wipper. Me too."
They were soon followed by Padmé and another young male twi'lek, this one wearing much more officious robes compared to the rags that barely passed for clothes on the two now former slaves. The man walked up to Anakin, taking his hand to shake it.
"You must be Luke Thule. I met your wife out in the old town. Thank you for everything you've both done for our city."
"Just doing our jobs," Anakin said demurely. He sensed an air of authority around this man, despite his age. "You must be the mayor?"
He nodded warmly. "Paan Thothlis."
Anakin sensed a sudden pang of fear coming from Kara and Wipper.
"Of Clan Thothlis," Padmé asked, understanding instantly the concerns of her new friends. Clan Thothlis was one of the most powerful clans on the planet, second only to the Governor's.
"Don't worry," Paan said, looking knowingly at the two. "I haven't been in contact with my family for almost half my life now. Something of a pariah, I guess."
"These two were innocents," Anakin pressed. "They had no choice in who they were working for."
"I understand completely," Paan tried to assure them, but Kara's eyes still looked to Anakin's in fear, wondering if she could trust the mayor. "I'd say that Rajar remains a safe haven for all who don't mean us harm...but I don't know how much longer we'll be safe for anyone."
"Do you think an attack is imminent, Mayer Thothlis?"
"Please, call me Paan." The twi'lek frowned at the young woman. "We have a day, maybe. Two days at the most. They're always preceded by raids like the one you encountered. Any time longer than that...our supply routes have been blocked in every direction. If they don't attack us, then we starve. All of us."
"If your Clan is so powerful," Anakin asked, puzzled, "why can't they help you?"
"My father is Councilor Yaak." Everyone in the room gasped. Yaak Thothlis was the head of his Clan, and one of the most powerful figures on the planet whom Anakin vaguely recalled meeting in the bevvy of handshakes from earlier that day. "I am his eldest son. I disclaimed my family, and they disowned me. On Ryloth, such actions are final."
"So? Your family will let this city burn just for some petty vendetta?" Anakin tried to calm his voice, be the diplomat Padmé told him he had to be for their grand plan to take shape, but he felt the anger burning inside him. Was this man lying to him? No, he didn't think so. Anakin wasn't mad at the mayor, he was mad at everything else. At the pirates, the slavers, the sight of all the captured girls. The sad, resigned eyes of Kara, which had already endured a life of agony, and how strikingly similar they were to someone else's long ago.
"I can tell you care," the mayor said sympathetically. "You're from offworld, but you care. That's more than most of them here can say. The ruling clans all come from the brightlands, so that's all they're concerned with. The nightlands they've already let the rebels lay waste to, and what little forces they have left in the guard not already protecting the core clan cities, they're fighting to reclaim the mine routes. For cities like this stuck in the middle...I wish I could say I'd fight, but we have trouble enough scavenging the wasted lands for food and scraps."
"We won't let that happen, Paan," Padmé said, and Anakin recognized the steely, determined look in her eyes when she set her mind on something. "An...Luke and I will return to the Bruk'ira, and we'll get help."
"You won't find a sympathetic ear back in the capital. My name won't help either. I've already sent intermediaries, at the expense of tradition and my own pride. They got nowhere."
Anakin couldn't help but wonder at the psyche of the man. He was worn, broken even more than slaves he had known on Tatooine. How could he give up so easily, he wondered.
Because not all of them have our powers, Padmé's voice spoke back to him. "We'll figure something out," she said out loud. "The Republic will not let your people down. We've ignored the cries for help on Ryloth for too long."
Anakin walked over to the Kara and Wipper, who had stayed silent through the entire conversation. Slaves didn't interrupt and disrupt the discourse of their betters, he knew too well. "You'll be safer here than in Bruk'ira. We will return, I promise. All this will not have been in vain."
"I believe you," Wipper said, his eyes defiant, his spirit ecstatic having finally broken free of his bonds. "I don't know why, but I do. You've come to save us, but know that when you return, I'm willing to fight for you." He looked around the room, at the mayor, at Kara, her aura showing much less confidence than her younger friend, yet Wipper asserted again, his lekkus quivering in excitement, "we will all fight for you."
Nightshade's sydneylover150: Unfortunately, no Satine in this story :( but maybe in the future
spirouFR: Thanks!
