Aboard the shooting star

The news of the dissolution of the Treaty of Vontor had been stunning. Madhi had been torn between elation for the Niktos and Klatooinians and journalistic irritation that she hadn't been there to cover it while it was all unfolding. She had immediately ordered a change of plans, to go to Klatooine to cover what she could of it. Tyl Krain and the pilot of the Shooting Star, a Twi'lek named Remmik Kulavinar, hadn't been too enthusiastic, but she found that Shohta was. Watching him over the last few days had been alternately fascinating, heartwarming, and distressing. The former slave had a great deal to work through emotionally. Sometimes he seemed almost childlike, other times angry. But most of all, he struck her as vibrant, perhaps truly alive for the first time in his life.

On the flight to Klatooine, she recorded a brief essay to transmit to Coruscant. It would be played on the next Perre Needmo Newshour.

"To watch this…rebirth, almost, into who he now is—it is a privilege," she said, looking right into the cam. "It is humbling and frightening and exciting. And to think that his story, from slave to freed being, could be reenacted literally billions of times over—well, in this reporter's opinion, the galaxy is unprepared for the outpouring of emotions and contributions liberty and freedom could bring it. Governments stand to gain more than they lose. A freed being contributes so much more to a society than a slave. I'm excited to be living at such a monumental time in our history. This is Madhi Vaandt, reporting aboard the Shooting Star."

Tyl usually gave her a smile and some kind of word of approval, or else requested to do another take if he wasn't satisfied with the quality of her work, sound recording, or lighting. But this time, he said nothing, and Madhi was instantly alert.

"What is it, Tyl?"

"Remmik says you've got an incoming message," he said. "I didn't want to interrupt the filming, but he says he hasn't been able to identify or trace it."

"What did it say?" Madhi had few secrets from her crew, and they were all free to listen to any incoming messages. They were part of a team, with the same goal.

"It's scrambled," Tyl said. "Requires you to give a voice sample in order to play."

Madhi frowned. "That's very—" Her eyes flew open wide. "I wonder…Come on!"

She raced from the room that served as the set while traveling toward the cockpit, her small crew following her and crowding into the cramped space. Remmik glanced up as she entered.

"Tyl told me," Madhi said. Remmik nodded and rose, giving her the controls. She sat down and thumbed a button. "This is Madhi Vaandt, activating voice recognition. Please decode the message."

She was trembling as she waited, and then a voice began to speak.

"Greetings, Madhi Vaandt. I know that you are in receipt of our last letter. Thank you for staying silent on the nature of the Freedom Flight. While we are proud of what we do, and while rumors certainly abound, we would have you reveal more about us at a time of our own choosing."

Everyone was grinning nervously. Madhi couldn't have wiped the smile off her face if she had tried.

"Detour to the coordinates you are about to receive. I will meet you there. Come alone, and I will tell you more about our mission, and give you some information that you will find to be to your benefit."

"Alone? Mist—Madhi," Shohta said, stopping himself from using the phrase that, to him, denoted that Madhi owned him, "I don't like the sound of that. This could be a trap. I am sure you have amassed many enemies doing these reports."

"I'm sure, too," she said, "but the message referenced the letter."

"Which could also have been written by someone trying to entrap you," the Chev said. "Think about it. You were cautioned not to speak. Not to talk about the Flight until such time as this mysterious unknown being chose to speak with you."

Madhi, seated at the helm, glanced up at him. His history made him mistrusting. She imagined he had seen a lot of lies and betrayal in the service of Guumak. And the honest truth was, his argument made sense. She didn't discount that her pieces might be responsible for instigating protests on some worlds or that more than a few beings might be delighted to see her dead.

"There's something called a journalist's instinct," she said. "Some people call it a nose for news. My instincts are saying that this contact doesn't mean me any harm. I've been in worse situations than this, Shohta. Really, I have. Thank you for your concern, though." She turned to Remmik.

"Let's make that rendezvous," she said.

The place they were sent wasn't even named. A moon over a planet called Vartos, it was essentially a rock. An out-of-the-way rock, with a thin but breathable atmosphere. There did not appear to be any native plants or animals, nor was there any water. The specific area to which they had been directed was almost entirely flat, with only a few rock formations dotting the landscape here and there.

The ship landed gently, raising a furious cloud of dust. A second moon and Vartos shone like a pair of eyes in the dark nighttime sky. Madhi was running on adrenaline; she hadn't slept for two days straight. But she was used to that. Her career had frequently taken her to dangerous places where hot food, a warm bed, and personal safety were not always in abundant supply. And like any journalist, for Madhi, the thought of a good story made everything worth it.

"You sure you won't let me put a tracking device or a recorder on you?" Tyl asked. Madhi shook her head vigorously.

"Come on, Tyl, who do you think I am, Javis Tyrr?" The laughter broke the tension. "I know the contact said come alone, and I want to show I can be trusted. I'll take my comlink and bring a recorder, and ask his or her permission before turning it on. That's how I work."

Tyl sighed. "I worry about you, Madhi. You take a lot of risks."

She shrugged into her many-pocketed vest and went to the open hatch. Before jumping down she turned around and gave him a playful smile. "That's how you get the good stories, Tyl. You should know that by now."

And then, armed with only a glow rod, she stepped forward into the night.

The glow of the moon and planet cast a significant amount of light in a place utterly bereft of light pollution, and she was able to stride briskly and with confidence. The coordinates were quite specific, and Madhi quickly figured out that her destination was one of the few rock formations they had spotted from the air. She paused after walking for about fifteen minutes and looked back. She could still see the small lights of the ship, and nodded.

Madhi continued forward, until she stood in the shadow of the looming rocks that looked like jagged, broken teeth. She saw nothing, heard or smelled nothing, but just the same, she sensed someone was there.

"I've come alone, as you asked," she said.

"Thank you," said a voice right by her ear.

Despite herself, she started and turned quickly. A Bothan stood less than a third of a meter away from her. He was dressed in dark clothes, and most of his face was hidden by a cowl. He moved it back, revealing his features, and smiled, teeth flashing white in the moonlight.

"You must do this a lot," Madhi said, recovering.

"Indeed I do." He gave her a slight bow. "You handle it better than most."

"I take it you're the being who gave me the letter on Vinsoth?" she asked, recovering her professional composure. Her hand slipped down into her pocket. "Mind if I record the conversation?"

"I assumed you were already doing so."

Madhi shook her head. "I do interviews, not surveillance," she said.

"I approve," her contact replied. "You may record it, but only for your personal use. My voice and features must not be broadcast. Beings could die—including me."

She nodded. "Of course." Madhi clicked it on. "So…can you give me your name?"

"Not my real name," the Bothan said, "But you may call me Blink."

"As in, don't blink or you'll be gone?"

"Precisely."

"Okay, Blink. You are a member of the Freedom Flight. How long has the organization been in existence?"

"Formally? Only about six years. Informally, individuals and small groups have been assisting slaves to escape ever since the institution of slavery began. Always, where there is a hand to hold down and crush, there is another to release and nurture."

Beautiful words, Madhi thought. Wish I'd thought of them. This guy's a natural.

"Tell me how you operate."

"It is a loosely knit organization," Blink said. "Each chain knows of only a few links. That way, if one of us is caught, there is a finite amount of others we can betray if tortured."

"You expect to be tortured?"

His eyes glittered in the light. "Some cultures would not hesitate to Use torture. Think about what we are doing, Madhi. We could topple governments, destroy cultures, ruin worlds, according to what some beings believe."

"Do you believe that?"

"Yes," he said firmly, surprising her. "It will have to be the result of finally and completely stamping out the institution. The change will be drastic, more so in some places than in others. Understand, though, that it is not the chaos we are after. It is the order after that which we seek—the just order that must come once all beings are able to breathe free. If that order can come calmly and peacefully, then all the better. But it must come. You know that yourself, or else you would not be moved to cover these stories as passionately as you do."

He was right, she realized. She was proud of that, but at the same time knew she needed to maintain proper journalistic impartiality. She steered the conversation back toward its organization.

"So for instance, if you were captured, how many could you betray?"

"Only four," he said. He smiled, again showing white teeth. "But I would not talk."

"I believe that," Madhi said, and she did. "So you use aviation terms: flight path, pilot, cargo, and so on."

"We do. It is safer if we are accidentally overheard. Nine hundred and ninety-nine times, if you are in a spaceport and hear those terms, they are not Freedom Flight members uttering them."

"But that thousandth time they might be."

He nodded.

"What do you think of the situation on Klatooine? Was that instigated by the Flight?"

Blink started to answer, gave her a slightly crafty tilt of the head, and said, "Off the record."

Madhi immediately clicked off the recording device. "For my ears only," she said.

"And charming ones they are," the Bothan replied. Madhi chuckled. "For your ears only, then—no. We do have pilots and other Flight crew stationed there, of course. But the violation of the Fountain—such a thing is reprehensible to us. We respect the enslaved cultures we are struggling so hard to liberate, and endeavor not to do anything that would offend them. Later, perhaps, we will reveal this about the Flight, but for the moment, let beings wonder. Let the Flight scare those who stand to lose much through the abolishment of slavery."

"But the results?"

"The violence is regrettable, but under the unfortunate circumstances it is understandable. The Hutts, the Klatooinians, and the Niktos will have to reach some kind of accord—or not—on their own. Our Flight crews are already departing Klatooine to put their efforts elsewhere where they are needed."

"And where might that be?"

Blink chuckled. "Here's a question for you," he said, "and then I must depart. Where are you heading next?"

"I'm not sure I should be telling you," she replied cagily.

"I would assume Klatooine. But that's not where the story is. If I were you, I would be heading for Blaudu Sextus."

Madhi looked at him, confused. "I've never heard of it."

"Look it up." He stepped back, merging with the shadows of the jutting rock formation. "I think you'll be very glad you did."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT