Who Would Be Free

Kitster took to making his visits to the shop near closing time, giving him an opportunity to linger to speak with Vader or Theec and to check on the fugitives they were sheltering. Vader eventually gave in to this regular invasion and purchased folding stools for the three of them. Banai commonly concluded his visits with an invitation to dinner. At first, Vader tried to refuse, but both men ignored his protests and towed him along in their wake. For reasons he did not want to examine too closely, Vader was reluctant to make more than a mild effort at resistance, so he found himself taking his place in the Banais' kitchen at least once a week. Lalla's cooking was delicious, and though he refused to acknowledge it to himself, he enjoyed the company too.

One evening Kitster brought a bottle of Corellian whiskey instead of a dinner invitation, and the three lingered around the counter in the shop. He confided that Lalla was on a "trip" with the network. That particular week Vader had no extra employees, and they spoke freely. After several shots and some desultory discussion about the network's efforts, Kitster said in a wistful tone, pronunciation slightly fuzzy, "Sometimes I get so frustrated with our slow progress, I fantasize about freeing the whole planet."

Vader stared at him. "What makes you think you could do that?"

"Oh, I don't. It's just—look, I've been doing this for over a decade. Lalla's been at it longer. And we've freed fewer than a thousand slaves. That's a fistful of sand compared to all the slaves on Tatooine. Sometimes I daydream about what it would be like if they were all free…No more masters. No more freedom trail. No more secrets."

"What do you think would be required?" Theec said, words even more slurred than Kit's.

"Oh, I don't even know. Jabba keeps bringing in more captives faster than we can free them. Probably we'd have to take out the Hutts. And who could do that?"

"Yes," Theec's nod was grave, "just eliminating Jabba would be nearly impossible. And then some other Hutt would take over his syndicate."

They were all quiet for a time, contemplating a Tatooine without Hutts. Eventually, Kitster added, "And I've got no idea what the Empire would do. They've never taken much interest in Tatooine—or the Republic before them—but we might just make the whole situation worse."

"Almost certainly," said Vader, straightening slightly. His words were also somewhat slurred. "Slavery is legal in the Empire, although individual planets are permitted to outlaw it. But since there's no government, who could do that? The Empire would move in to fill the power vacuum if the Hutts didn't beat them to it. The Emperor won't go toe to toe with the Hutts over Tatooine—not enough here to make it worthwhile—but if he could increase his control without having to fight the Hutts? Definitely."

Kit stared at him. "How do you know that?"

Vader shrugged. "Elementary political theory."

"Right." Kitster nodded owlishly. "Well, I didn't know it. But it certainly eliminates that idea. I think overall I prefer the dust demon I know." He set down his glass with a thunk and stood. "I'll get home now. Lalla will scold if I drink any more."

Theec left with him. Pensively, Vader locked the door behind them and turned out the light over the counter. He sank into the chair in his quarters and picked up a half-completed scanner. As he worked, the conversation replayed in his head.

He shook his head ruefully. What a pipe dream. It was all well and good for a pair of slave boys to dream of freeing the slaves. But not even the Jedi Order, with all its resources, had felt equal to the task. What could a provincial shopkeeper and a newly-freed slave hope to accomplish? Idly, he considered the question as he absentmindedly connected wires and tightened screws.

It would have to be done by stealth. With the trackers in place, emancipation by decree would be nothing more than window dressing—the Empire certainly would never intervene. Neither through legislation nor enforcement. And it would be less than useless to demand the slaveholders disable the trackers. Not without an outsized police force. Which no one on Tatooine possessed.

Vader yawned, glanced at the chrono, then put down his work. Later, he lay in bed while disjointed thoughts chased round and round. Could a planet's worth of slaves be freed by stealth? The universal scanner could disable the chips, but almost certainly agents of the underground would have to visit each slave in person. That alone would be a monumental undertaking. He drifted off to sleep calculating how many agents would hypothetically be required to do it.

The next morning he awoke still mulling over the questions. They dogged his steps as he exercised, ate, and straightened his apartment. Several times he resolved to abandon the matter, but like a ball bearing in a groove, his thoughts continuously returned to it. He reminded himself it was merely an intriguing mental experiment.

The particular difficulty he kept stumbling over was how to prevent the Empire from rushing in to fill the power vacuum. Distributing the scanners would be a challenge, but with enough time he and Theec could construct the necessary number. Jabba's assassination he had already fantasized about in multiple loving variations over the past months. But a system that could not defend itself would swiftly find the Empire had snatched up its territory. Unless…

In his former life, he and Palpatine had engaged in many games through the years. One had centered on Vader finding ways to make his small rebellions and whims appear perfectly legal. Even necessitated by the constitution. If he recalled correctly, there was an article that might be exactly the loophole he required.

He visited a local cantina that had public access holoterminals and was gratified to find his memory was accurate. If certain conditions were met, the Imperial constitution guaranteed that the galactic government would not interfere in the internal affairs of a sovereign system. Of course, Palpatine, while publicly maintaining the inviolability of the Imperial constitution in galactic affairs, regularly disregarded both it and system sovereignty when it suited him.

But…

If this were handled just right…

It might make the public relations cost so high, Palpatine wouldn't find the effort worthwhile.

He intended to leave the matter there. He had established that the endeavor could be successful, but only under conditions so precise that the margin of error would be functionally nonexistent. Thirty years as a warrior had taught him that no plan so precarious had much hope of success.

Nevertheless, as the days passed, the possibilities continued to niggle at the edge of his awareness. He caught himself mulling over the guarantee of rights as he welded a speeder's tailpipe and reviewing legislative procedures in the silence between turning out the lights and falling asleep. One evening he set down the scanner he was assembling and grabbed a datapad, writing rapid notes for over an hour. Over the following days, he kept the datapad near and jotted thoughts down at odd intervals. Long-forgotten classes on galactic political theory and conflict resolution rose in his memory. Key phrases made their way into the increasingly detailed notes.

He made several visits to the dingy holo café, surreptitiously consulting contraband copies of the Galactic Republic's constitution, as well as Naboo's Charter and Alderaan's Declaration on Sapient Rights. He was meticulous about covering his tracks, as he did not wish to draw any unwanted attention. He told himself that there was really no need to take the risk at all. He should cease his efforts before someone grew suspicious. This was merely an intellectual exercise anyway.

But he could not break free from the fascination it held for him.

It was in the wee hours one night, when he had stayed up long past his usual bedtime, that he finally admitted to himself what he was doing. He wanted to free the slaves. Perhaps it was not a noble endeavor. He did not feel particularly concerned about the slaves as individuals. But he was deeply interested in discovering whether he could pull off a revolution right under Palpatine's nose.

It would be the first enterprise he had ever attempted solely on his own. As Darth Vader, he had operated ultimately under Sidious' command, though the Emperor had given him wide latitude to accomplish his missions. As a Jedi, he had almost always worked with Kenobi, even after he earned his Knighthood. And he would have consulted Padmé in any case for an assignment that involved this degree of politics. In fact, he really wouldn't mind consulting her now. He would even be glad for Kenobi's input, though it would have required overlooking a great deal of lava under the bridge. But Kenobi was probably dead and Padmé definitely was.

On the other hand, that left him the opportunity to see what he could do all on his own.

At last he visited Kitster's shop, a little surprised that for once the man was actually minding his business.

"Kraytrider," Banai said, his smile etching lines around his eyes. "This is a surprise."

"I suppose," Vader answered, dropping a datapad on the counter in front of Kit.

"What's this?"

"Something I wrote. I thought you might like to see it."

With an inquiring expression, Kit opened the datapad. "This is in Standard."

"Yes."

"I'll admit I don't read Standard very well."

"The other file is the Huttese. But the Empire will require that the official document be in Standard." Vader seated himself on a convenient stool.

Kitster keyed open the Huttese text and read in silence for several minutes. He looked up, his face blank. "This is a constitution," he said.

"Articles of government, but yes."

"Why are you bringing me a constitution?"

"You want to free the slaves, you need a government. It's the only way to both outlaw slavery, and also keep the Empire out of Tatooine."

A furrow appeared between Kitster's brows. "How would it do that?"

"The Imperial constitution guarantees systems the right to self-governance in accordance with their own customs, so long as certain conditions are met. This serves as a legal guarantee that Tatooine is not attempting to spread rebellion by freeing its slaves and that it will continue to pay Imperial taxes. As long as you follow through, the Empire will leave Tatooine alone. It isn't worth the trouble and the political consequences for the Emperor to override that section of the galactic constitution."

"How would we meet the taxes? Even if we—" Kitster lowered his voice to a whisper, though the shop was empty "—assassinated Jabba, we wouldn't have any money."

"I see you didn't read that far. This document confiscates Jabba's assets in the wake of his death."

"What death? Last time I checked, Jabba was alive and flapping his tail."

"Assassinate him, obviously."

Banai set the datapad on the counter with care. "…I wouldn't have any idea how to do that. I run a network of former slaves. We have no resources. No weapons."

"I might know a few people who could help. I assure you, killing Jabba is the least of our concerns."

Banai searched his face. "You're serious. This really is—" he lowered his voice again and shot a wary glance at the door "—a revolution."

"If you're willing," said Vader. "Come to my shop tonight after dinner, and I'll tell you the rest."