chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was an experience watching Anakin work. The lad had a studious intensity that rivalled Hermione's own. He focused completely on the task at hand, without hesitation, seeming to know exactly what needed doing. He didn't stick his tongue out though, or twist a strand of bushy hair between his fingers.

My anxiety faded as HK's new body was fully assembled. There was no hesitancy or indecision as he reached for various tools or lined up different components. Robotic limbs linked seamlessly with the torso in minutes. Attaching the head took some more time.

The first delivery of cargo arrived during the assembly, but having watched for a while I was comfortable to leave HK's side to stow the pallets. HK had organised a delivery schedule with the dealers that would hopefully prevent any single delivery-being from seeing more than one other delivery. Still, I was prepared to place a few muggle-confounding charms, as needed. It turned out to be unneeded, as without exception, a simple droid made each delivery.

The expanded hold happily accommodated the massive volume of food. It wasn't anywhere near the limits of my magic; I didn't have enough funds to purchase enough cargo to fill that. But it did mean that I got the most out of my current supply of credits.

As I secured a load, a rhythmic clanking and soft, hydraulic hisses drew my attention. HK strode into the hold, his silver body looking quite spiffy. The rusty head took away some of the effect.

"Statement: The little meatbag has completed his task, Master."

"Obviously. That body is quite imposing," I said. It was true. At seven feet tall, the mostly silver droid exuded menace.

"Declaration: It is woeful, Master. An initial audit of this body's mêlée protocols indicates a thirty-eight point three four percent combat efficiency rating."

I rubbed my chin, wondering how in Merlin's name he managed to encapsulate a chaotic system such as combat efficiency down to a single value. "How do we go about getting you better, then? Given how rare the parts are, I don't imagine there's a local software shop we can buy combat - what did you call them, protocols?"

"Statement: I am programmed to improve my skills with use. Post-combat evaluations enable me to prune redundant code segments. Observing and rating innovative techniques expands my repertoire."

"The more you fight, the better you get?"

"Affirmative: Succinctly put, Master."

I considered that. "Well, stick with me and you'll get all the combat you could want."

"Confirmatory: I agree."

"You do?"

"Answer: Oh yes, Master. Your ability to manipulate spatial dimensions and mass - even on a relatively small scale - is one the entire galaxy would cheerfully go to war to control. You could purchase entire planetary systems with the sums that would be offered."

I swallowed as my mercenary instincts waged a sudden and intense assault on my homesickness. "Really?" I said in an involuntarily high pitch. I cleared my throat and repeated in my usual baritone, "Really?"

"Confirmation: Oh yes, Master. Any new technology that extends currently understood scientific limits is valuable. Manipulating spatial dimensions is so fundamentally revolutionary that should your ability become known, I calculate a high probability of actual planetary revolutions. The chance to take part in such broadly distributed violence is one I do not intend to miss."

I cleared my throat again. "I see. Well, if I were planning on staying here in this time, I might well consider that. But I'm going to do everything I can to find a way to travel back however far I've been flung into the future."

"Observation: Time travel, excluding understood relativistic effects, is considered impossible, Master. Traveling backwards in time violates currently understood physical laws."I snorted. "One of my best friends wanted to take more classes at school when she was thirteen. The headmaster gave her an object that enabled her to travel back in time over and over again, a couple of hours at a time, just so she could take the extra classes without him having to stump up further cash for more teachers."

What do you know; it is possible to render a droid speechless…

HK had numerous, entertaining and immoral suggestions for using a timeturner. He was almost crushed when I pointed out that I did not possess one in this time. I left him to his own devices, which would probably result in him coming up with a way to turn a tickling charm into a weapon of mass destruction.

Once I finished securing the last delivery, HK presented me with something he called a datapad. Rather than suggestions for various methods of killing, he had entered a list of possible planetary systems where we could sell the cargo; broken down by distance, expected price ranges, likelihood of discovery, levels of governmental corruption, organised crime, security and the like.

I sat down in the pilot's seat and began examining the data. After a while, Anakin entered the cockpit of the ship, HK on his heels. The boy spoke to me, his tone obvious that he'd just asked a question. I looked over to my droid with an eyebrow raised.

"Translation: The little meatbag wants to know if you have decided where to sell your cargo. Query: Shall I convince him that curiosity is a trait that is likely to result is loss of his respiration privileges?"

I shook my head. "No. Tell him I haven't decided yet."

The pair had a short exchange. Despite the fact that HK had equipped himself with a weapon that would not look too out of place on the top of a small tank, the boy exhibited no fear. Indeed, he stared up at the tall droid with an expression bordering on insolence.

Prime Gryffindor material, that one.

"Translation: The little meatbag suggests that we sell our cargo on Naboo, Master."

I frowned. That name was familiar; it was on HK's list. I swiped the screen of the datapad, locating and selecting Naboo. It had ranked well on some of HK's criteria, but poorly overall; demand was high for food and medical supplies, due to a recent occupation by a hostile force. But that force had likely taken everything of value that could be feasibly moved, leaving their ability to pay in doubt.

Still, beyond that (admittedly rather important) fact, it fit my personal criteria quite well. It was inhabited by humans, making it easier for me to blend in. It was considered a very free society, with low levels of corruption; meaning it was unlikely I'd be obliged to vanish from the local law enforcement's clutches or violently convince crime bosses that it was in their interest to leave me alone. "Why Naboo?"

HK didn't bother to translate. Anakin babbled away at my droid for some time.

"Observation: It appears that the data I supplied is obsolete. The post of Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Senate was recently vacated in exceptional circumstances. The new incumbent previously held the post of Senator of Naboo. Political analysts posit that it was the invasion of his homeworld that gave him the required boost in support to gain the position." At my blank expression, he continued, "Clarification: The Supreme Chancellor is the nominal head of the Galactic Government, the most powerful elected political position in the galaxy."

A smile grew on my face. "Really? So the guy in charge of the government across the galaxy comes from Naboo? I'd say that they're likely to get all the credits they need to rebuild."I shrugged and passed the heavy head to my new mechanic. "Your funeral. So to speak," I said.

Chapter 9

It was an experience watching Anakin work. The lad had a studious intensity that rivalled Hermione's own. He focused completely on the task at hand, without hesitation, seeming to know exactly what needed doing. He didn't stick his tongue out though, or twist a strand of bushy hair between his fingers.

My anxiety faded as HK's new body was fully assembled. There was no hesitancy or indecision as he reached for various tools or lined up different components. Robotic limbs linked seamlessly with the torso in minutes. Attaching the head took some more time.

The first delivery of cargo arrived during the assembly, but having watched for a while I was comfortable to leave HK's side to stow the pallets. HK had organised a delivery schedule with the dealers that would hopefully prevent any single delivery-being from seeing more than one other delivery. Still, I was prepared to place a few muggle-confounding charms, as needed. It turned out to be unneeded, as without exception, a simple droid made each delivery.

The expanded hold happily accommodated the massive volume of food. It wasn't anywhere near the limits of my magic; I didn't have enough funds to purchase enough cargo to fill that. But it did mean that I got the most out of my current supply of credits.

As I secured a load, a rhythmic clanking and soft, hydraulic hisses drew my attention. HK strode into the hold, his silver body looking quite spiffy. The rusty head took away some of the effect.

"Statement: The little meatbag has completed his task, Master."

"Obviously. That body is quite imposing," I said. It was true. At seven feet tall, the mostly silver droid exuded menace.

"Declaration: It is woeful, Master. An initial audit of this body's mêlée protocols indicates a thirty-eight point three four percent combat efficiency rating."

I rubbed my chin, wondering how in Merlin's name he managed to encapsulate a chaotic system such as combat efficiency down to a single value. "How do we go about getting you better, then? Given how rare the parts are, I don't imagine there's a local software shop we can buy combat - what did you call them, protocols?"

"Statement: I am programmed to improve my skills with use. Post-combat evaluations enable me to prune redundant code segments. Observing and rating innovative techniques expands my repertoire.""The more you fight, the better you get?"

"Affirmative: Succinctly put, Master."

I considered that. "Well, stick with me and you'll get all the combat you could want."

"Confirmatory: I agree."

"You do?"

"Answer: Oh yes, Master. Your ability to manipulate spatial dimensions and mass - even on a relatively small scale - is one the entire galaxy would cheerfully go to war to control. You could purchase entire planetary systems with the sums that would be offered."

I swallowed as my mercenary instincts waged a sudden and intense assault on my homesickness. "Really?" I said in an involuntarily high pitch. I cleared my throat and repeated in my usual baritone, "Really?"

"Confirmation: Oh yes, Master. Any new technology that extends currently understood scientific limits is valuable. Manipulating spatial dimensions is so fundamentally revolutionary that should your ability become known, I calculate a high probability of actual planetary revolutions. The chance to take part in such broadly distributed violence is one I do not intend to miss."

I cleared my throat again. "I see. Well, if I were planning on staying here in this time, I might well consider that. But I'm going to do everything I can to find a way to travel back however far I've been flung into the future."

"Observation: Time travel, excluding understood relativistic effects, is considered impossible, Master. Traveling backwards in time violates currently understood physical laws."

I snorted. "One of my best friends wanted to take more classes at school when she was thirteen. The headmaster gave her an object that enabled her to travel back in time over and over again, a couple of hours at a time, just so she could take the extra classes without him having to stump up further cash for more teachers."

What do you know; it is possible to render a droid speechless…

HK had numerous, entertaining and immoral suggestions for using a timeturner. He was almost crushed when I pointed out that I did not possess one in this time. I left him to his own devices, which would probably result in him coming up with a way to turn a tickling charm into a weapon of mass destruction.

Once I finished securing the last delivery, HK presented me with something he called a datapad. Rather than suggestions for various methods of killing, he had entered a list of possible planetary systems where we could sell the cargo; broken down by distance, expected price ranges, likelihood of discovery, levels of governmental corruption, organised crime, security and the like.

I sat down in the pilot's seat and began examining the data. After a while, Anakin entered the cockpit of the ship, HK on his heels. The boy spoke to me, his tone obvious that he'd just asked a question. I looked over to my droid with an eyebrow raised.

"Translation: The little meatbag wants to know if you have decided where to sell your cargo. Query: Shall I convince him that curiosity is a trait that is likely to result is loss of his respiration privileges?"I shook my head. "No. Tell him I haven't decided yet."

The pair had a short exchange. Despite the fact that HK had equipped himself with a weapon that would not look too out of place on the top of a small tank, the boy exhibited no fear. Indeed, he stared up at the tall droid with an expression bordering on insolence.

Prime Gryffindor material, that one.

"Translation: The little meatbag suggests that we sell our cargo on Naboo, Master."

I frowned. That name was familiar; it was on HK's list. I swiped the screen of the datapad, locating and selecting Naboo. It had ranked well on some of HK's criteria, but poorly overall; demand was high for food and medical supplies, due to a recent occupation by a hostile force. But that force had likely taken everything of value that could be feasibly moved, leaving their ability to pay in doubt.

Still, beyond that (admittedly rather important) fact, it fit my personal criteria quite well. It was inhabited by humans, making it easier for me to blend in. It was considered a very free society, with low levels of corruption; meaning it was unlikely I'd be obliged to vanish from the local law enforcement's clutches or violently convince crime bosses that it was in their interest to leave me alone. "Why Naboo?"

HK didn't bother to translate. Anakin babbled away at my droid for some time.

"Observation: It appears that the data I supplied is obsolete. The post of Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Senate was recently vacated in exceptional circumstances. The new incumbent previously held the post of Senator of Naboo. Political analysts posit that it was the invasion of his homeworld that gave him the required boost in support to gain the position." At my blank expression, he continued, "Clarification: The Supreme Chancellor is the nominal head of the Galactic Government, the most powerful elected political position in the galaxy."

A smile grew on my face. "Really? So the guy in charge of the government across the galaxy comes from Naboo? I'd say that they're likely to get all the credits they need to rebuild."

"Agreement: Indeed, Master. Such a situation is a veritable breeding ground for corruption, graft, profit and violence. Especially violence."

I nodded. "Naboo it is then," I said.

Anakin didn't need a translation. He gave a whoop of joy.

"But!" I snapped, holding up a hand and instantly damping his enthusiasm. "You are not coming. HK, tell him that I'll pay him well for his work putting you together, but he's going back to his family. I'm not kidnapping him."

Anakin flushed red as HK translated, though the tone my droid used was unnecessarily spiteful. The boy spat back a quick response.

"Translation: The little meatbag claims his only family is his mother. Further, he claims she is still a slave on Tatooine."

I regarded him for a long moment. "So why is he so insistent on going to Naboo then? Wouldn't he want to go to Tatooine? Or did he run away?"

Anakin answered HK's translation quickly.

"Translation: The little meatbag claims to be friends with the Queen of Naboo, Master."

I gave his homespun clothes a doubtful look. "Really?"

"Calculation: Vocal analysis suggests a ninety-eight point seven two percent chance of veracity, Master. Establishing contact with the local information service now. Confirmation: It is true, Master. As unlikely as it sounds, this boy was reportedly instrumental in defeating the occupying forces."I stared at Anakin for a long while, causing him to blush slightly. "Instrumental?"

"Clarification: According to the official reports, it was his singular actions that destroyed the command ship of the invading army."

I continued to look at the lad. "Could someone have edited those reports?" I asked dubiously. "I mean, if they were true it begs the question - what's a planetary hero doing here in rags? Anyone, especially a kid, who saved a whole world would be inundated with offers of a home by the wealthy and powerful, just for the status!"

HK dutifully translated and listened to Anakin's response. "Translation: Until recently, the boy claims to have been a slave on Tatooine along with his mother, only winning his freedom just before the election of the new Chancellor. The Nabooan Queen was a member of the party who freed him. After returning to Naboo and helping to liberate the planet, the individual directly responsible for freeing him deposited him here on Telos to work on the farms."

I frowned. It sounded fantastical. "Colour me suspicious."

"Confirmation: I have substantiated the events from local news and galactic news sources. The little meatbag did leave certain facts out of his narration, however."

"Oh?"

"Recitation: A single Corporation runs the vast majority of the farms on this planet. It is owned and run by… the group of individuals who attempted to arrest us. A prominent member of that group freed the boy and deposited him here to work."

I knew about operational security. "I see. Any reason you aren't naming them?"

"Answer: The little meatbag would no doubt recognise the word, Master, thus alerting him to the fact that we are aware of his duplicity."

I rubbed my chin. "That doesn't answer why they just dumped him here though."

"Deduction: The boy must be Force sensitive."

I immediately snapped my attention to HK. "What makes you say that?"

"Summarisation: Were he not, he would no doubt have been fostered somewhere on a civilized planet, as you posited. Even when I was last active, the Order in question laid a claim of jurisdiction over all Force sensitive meatbags. That aside, his recorded accomplishments both during the recent upheaval on Naboo and on Tatooine would be impossible for all but the most skilled or highly trained organic. Meatbags with Force sensitivity are capable of incredible feats by instinct. Finally, it is an open secret that failed students, and those yet to be selected for further training by a Master, are sent to these farms to…" HK paused and actually shuddered, "… ugh, work productively."

I covered my eyes with a hand. "Bugger," I said."Query: Master, is there a problem?"

I sighed deeply. A slave was rescued by magical beings. Told he was one of them. Saved the day and regarded a hero. Then abandoned in a place he hated to work with no friends while the magical beings got to live their lives as they saw fit.

If Anakin wanted to leave, I wasn't going to him deny that.

He'd proven his value already. And it sounded like he'd been exposed to the sort of violent excitement that filled my world. Of course, the Jedi would be pissed at me.

That thought brightened my mood. "Fine. Tell him to go and pick out a bunk. We're heading to Naboo."

Anakin turned out to be a genius in every sense of the word. He was a polyglot, able to communicate effectively in quite a few languages, though in a lot of them he was better with curses and threats than anything else. One he was fluent in was called Huttese, which HK assured me was very useful in underworld dealings.

He was also a mechanical prodigy; HK wasn't the first droid he had reassembled. Apparently Anakin had assembled and programmed a droid entirely from scraps before the Jedi found him.

I shook my head at that. When I was nine there was a kid at school who made his own crystal radio set following instructions he found in his grandfather's attic. He was considered a genius; so much so that he was picked on almost as much as me. At that age I was pleased enough to hide from Dudley in the school library, reading Biggles.

But that wasn't the end of Anakin's skills. After examining the navcomputer for an hour or so, he was confident that he could make the complex mathematical calculations necessary to plot out a course in hyperspace.

Hermione would have been insanely jealous. Mind you, she'd probably have been smugly satisfied that his hair was almost as bad as hers.

Personally, I was conflicted. I knew I wasn't the brightest wizard around, but Anakin's accomplishments under his circumstances would have given Leonardo da Vinci self-esteem issues. But I couldn't find it in my heart to be envious of him, he was just too likeable. Everything he did was to try and please me.I found that uncomfortable. I remembered being like that. Before the world's attitude burned it out of me. I tried hard to ignore the sensation; the memory of what I'd deliberately discarded.

But still, despite the freedom that came from the apathy of not giving a hoot for the rest of the world, I found myself feeling protective of the lad. Something I'd not been in years.

I continued my lessons in Basic as we traveled through hyperspace, and Anakin insisted on learning English in the meantime. The swirling azure vortex had been glorious to observe from the cockpit for maybe half an hour, before it started giving me a headache. I took to taking my lessons in the small recreation area rather than in the cockpit, where the flickering blue lights grew annoying on a datapad screen.

I did have to take control of the ship as we exited hyperspace at a navigation point in space. Telos and Naboo were both on a trade corridor that stretched from one arm of the galaxy to the opposite arm. The pre-calculated route from Telos to Naboo had a few waypoints. At the predetermined time, the ship dropped into space and the sudden darkness left afterimages dancing on my retinas.

For about five seconds.

A flash of blinding light arced across the inky backdrop and impacted high on the ship. It shuddered and lurched, and my ears popped at a sudden drop in air pressure. Something slammed shut back in the ship, and the pressure stabilized.

I swore, lunged forward and grabbed the controls. I jerked and twisted the control stick, hauling the ship around. "What the hell was that?" I demanded.

HK stood as still as a statue at the back of the cockpit. "Answer: We are under attack, Master," he said in a calm monotone. He turned his head to face one of the flashing warning lights. "Observation: That shot disabled our forward turrets."

I blinked. "Turrets? There are guns on this heap of shit?"

"Negative: Not any more, Master."

"Sodding wonderful," I grumbled, swinging the ship around so I could see the ship firing on us.

It was beautiful. Maybe five or six times the size of my ship, it oozed menace. It looked like a metallic raptor mid-swoop. A sleek, silver body framed by two 'wings' bristling with powerful looking guns.I loved it.

It fired again at us. But unlike my non-technical expectations for laser weapons, the bright energy pulses shot out at a speed slow enough that I could react. My significantly lightened ship nimbly dodged the blasts.

Anakin ran into the cockpit in a low, crouching gait. He dove for the co-pilot's seat and started slapping various parts of the console. He called out a couple of words in his piping voice, which I was too busy to try and translate.

"Translation: Shields up," HK helpfully supplied.

"This thing has shields too? Huh," I said, weaving through another salvo.

Anakin cheered. I grinned at him. He gave me the local equivalent of a 'thumbs up'. At least, that's how I translated it.

I grew more comfortable with my ability to weave my ship around the deadly flashes of light. Anakin's delight grew with each passing moment; he was definitely an adrenaline junkie. Even HK offered a typically underhanded compliment.

"HK, got any idea why they're attacking us?" I asked, almost lazily barrel-rolling over the next shot. It was all rather fun, though I'd need to come up with a long-term solution. Currently, the situation was a stalemate.

"Answer: That is almost certainly a pirate vessel, Master."

"You have pirates in space?" I blurted, giving that revelation all due consideration. "Cool."

"Recitation: Indeed, Master. Pirates will usually attempt to disable their victim's ship and negotiate safe passage in return for cargo. The probability of them adhering to any agreement once surrender is secured is low."

"They haven't demanded our surrender yet," I pointed out.

"Observation: We are clearly not disabled yet," he retorted testily.

A plan formed. I grinned; a wide and evil smile. "Perhaps we should surrender."

"Objection: Master! I protest!"

"I'm not actually going to surrender, HK," I spat, smoothly dodging around yet another blast. "I just want them to take us aboard that ship. It would be much simpler to hijack it from the inside, don't you think?"

"Mollified Answer: It would be more convenient, certainly."A pinging sound rang, and Anakin pressed a button on another console. A glowing blue figure with both long head tentacles and what looked like horns flickered into life above a lens. It gave a short speech.

"Translation: The Togruta demands our surrender."

I nodded. "Would he try to destroy the ship if we stopped moving and surrendered? He'd lose the cargo that way."

"Observation: Successful pirates do not needlessly waste valuable ships or destroy cargo, Master. The same could not be said for prisoners."

"Good. Can you tell where the bridge of that ship is?"

HK silently observed the distant ship for a few seconds. "Affirmative: Yes Master."

"Excellent. Tell him we'll stop and prepare to be boarded. When the two ships are attached and steady relative to each other, calculate and give me the distance and vector from our cockpit to their bridge. I'll apparate over to their ship while you meet the boarding party. Feel free to be as destructive as you like as you try out your combat programming. In fact, I insist upon it. I don't like pirates."

"Satisfaction: Oh Master, this is going to be fun."

An unexpected problem occurred half a second after I apparated onto the pirate ship. HK's directions were impeccable, and I appeared in an unoccupied spot barely a centimeter above the floor of the bridge.

I had side-along apparated Anakin with me. I wasn't about to leave him behind where one shot could open a hole that would vent the entire ship's atmosphere into space. The lad had been in combat before; indeed, by all reports had conducted himself superbly. I was confident that I could keep him shielded and safe.

But he was Force sensitive. And apparition did not agree with Jedi or Sith at all. He vomited down the front of my clothes.

The sudden, unexplained and inexplicable sound of a retching human proved cause for stunned surprise. That a glob of partially digested breakfast hung in the air on a partially invisible intruder no doubt added to the shock.

I spotted the being that contacted us and dropped him with a stunner. The vomit on my chest proved an enticing target, and the rest of the bridge crew drew weapons and aimed them at me.But I'd faced men with guns before; often enough that I could react by reflex rather than conscious thought. A wide-angled, weapon-summoning charm wrenched the drawn guns from their hands and the undrawn weapons from their holsters. I was mildly surprised at the sheer number that flew towards me.

I halted their progress and let them fall to the ground. Angered at being so simply disarmed, a Trandoshan roared and charged at me, arms wide and ready to tackle. I put a bludgeoning charm between his eyes. It snapped his head back and dropped him skidding on the floor, unconscious.

The other three beings on the bridge started screaming. One shouted, "Jedi!" and fell to his knees, arms aloft. Another jabbed a button and yelled a warning into a console. I could hear his voice echo throughout the rest of the ship. The last stood still, his attention wavering between the stunned captain, the unconscious lizardman, the pile of weapons, and the vomit on my chest; it being the only solidly visible part of me.

I gave my wand a flick and sent the one warning the rest of the ship flying into the immobile one. A distant explosion and faint echoes of weapon fire echoed up the corridor leading to the bridge.

It only took a couple more spells to completely neutralise the bridge crew. I vanished the vomit, dispelled the disillusionment and helped Anakin to his feet. "Are you all right?"

We'd covered that generic query in our language lessons. He nodded and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. He swallowed as he looked around at the unconscious beings before looking up at me with awe.

I gestured towards the pilot's seat. "Can you get control?" I asked.

He seemed to understand. He jumped into the seat and started fiddling with the control panel. My hesitancy faded. The lad looked like he knew exactly what he was doing.

I turned my attention to the entrance to the bridge. The corridor connecting it to the rest of the ship sloped up sharply, meaning that anyone coming to the bridge would have to walk down an incline. From my position, I could see people coming before they could see me.

Assuming their head was on the top of their body of course. I had to make certain assumptions.

Rapid footsteps turned into two pairs of booted feet running down the slope to the bridge. I tossed a couple of petrification spells at them, which caused both figures to stiffen and collapse forward. Two human males slid into the bridge on their bellies.

Anakin pulled his arms in and arched his back, looking as though he felt a spider crawling between his shoulder blades. He looked at me, almost in disgust. "What that?" he asked in crude English.I shrugged. "Magic," I replied. Without HK, we couldn't really get into a philosophical and technical discussion around supernatural powers.

He tilted his head to one side. "Why not I feel magic on that?" he asked, pointing out the starboard viewport. I glanced at the indicated direction to see the front of my ugly ship. There was a gaping hole in the top of it, exposing the inner workings. I felt my hairs on my neck rise at the thought of how close we'd come to death by depressurization.

I grimaced as I considered Anakin's question. It was probably the magical-detection warding runes I'd placed on the ship probably kept him from feeling the discomfort of my magic while aboard. "Wait until HK gets here," I replied. The weapon discharges were getting louder but less regular. So were the screams of terror.

Anakin nodded and turned back to his task. I looked around at the bodies and decided to restrain them using muggle methods rather than magic. Hopefully, enchanted handcuffs wouldn't offend Anakin's delicate disposition.

Or allow the aliens to escape. That would be irritating to have to subdue them again.

HK joined us in a remarkably short time. His silver body was pockmarked with burns and scorch marks, covered in arterial blood splatter (both blue and red) and his left leg was badly damaged, the foot dragging along the floor. But his attitude was positively giddy at his success. He did not express it so, however.

"Observation: That was the single most paradoxical experience of my existence, Master. As enjoyable as it was to finally indulge in some unadulterated violence, my performance was detestable. My shot grouping was so poor I could barely keep from scrapping myself out of despair. Twice I was saved from debilitating damage only due to incompetence on the part of my targets. As pervasive as such ineptitude is, I refuse to allow myself to rely on it."

"You just took on how many?"

"Answer: Twelve, Master."

I nodded. "You took on twelve pirates and walked away. And even if your shot precision was poor, that's still a reasonable kill count."

"Indignation: It is not reasonable, Master! You have no idea how reduced I am! When I served my creator, boarding a vessel such as this would not present me with any difficulty whatsoever. I would certainly not need extensive repairs."

I sighed, but pointed to the stains on his chest. "You've got a big gun, how come you let someone get close enough to get blood on you?"

HK held up his left hand. It had chunks of flesh and gristle stuck between the joints. "Answer: Two meatbags tried ambushing me with some droid retraining technology I am not familiar with. As they were inside the effective range of my weapon, I was obliged to manually extract their tracheas. Request: I require a short bladed vibroknife or similar to increase my efficiency in such situations, Master."

As someone intimately exposed to the seedy underbelly of humanity, I'd seen the inside bits of people before. But there was something deeply disturbing about a robot with the ability to tear someone's throat out and only worry about how inefficient the action was. I began to wonder at the wisdom of letting such a droid loose on the galaxy at large."Right, well, come here," I ordered, bringing my wand to bear. I vanished the biological remains from him and then cast a couple of repairing charms. Both Anakin and HK exhibited discomfort at the spells, but my droid was back to his pristine best in seconds.

HK at least was appreciative. "Gratitude: As distasteful as the procedure is, that is without doubt the most efficient method I have ever encountered for restoring mechanical components, Master."

I nodded. "Glad you like it. Can you tell if there are any other pirates alive on the ship?"

HK was silent for a moment. "Analysis: The restrained meatbags in visual range only; my sensors detect no other lifesigns, beyond the expected vermin and non-sentient organisms."

"Excellent. Right, let's work out how to get both my ships to Naboo, shall we? You know, I find myself rather enjoying collecting starships. I wonder if I can get the whole set?"

It took some work, plus some help from a couple of other droids (astromechs, HK called them) to operate the larger ship. The central computer, which controlled the navcomputer, was voice-locked, but that was easily solved by HK's ability to mimic someone's voice and a brief Legilimency scan on the head honcho to snag the code.

While Anakin familiarised himself with the ship's controls, HK trawled the computer for useful information.

"Discovery: The attempt on our vessel was not a fortunate happenstance, Master. It was a planned ambush."

I looked up from the pilot's console. "Planned? We only decided our destination just before we left. Unless…" I trailed off, consciously refraining from glancing over at Anakin.

"Deduction: The little meatbag's involvement is unlikely. Data sources on numerous planets were regularly accessed and evaluated by slicers aboard this ship. One person purchasing cargo at so many dealers on Telos raised several flags in their target assessment matrix."

I winced. "Well, we had to hide our ability to transport disproportionate volume somehow."

"Conjecture: I postulate that it was that very inexplicable behaviour that raised suspicions. Given the limited size of our vessel, it is highly likely that the crew inferred that we were hauling contraband, and that our legitimate purchase of bulk cargo was simply a crude cover.""Ah," I said. "We couldn't carry so much cargo in this small ship; therefore we were obviously transporting something far more compact and valuable. You know, that would make sense. But how did they know where we would be?"

"Recitation: Commercial hyperspace routes are public knowledge. Our departure vector limited the possible pool of planetary destinations. This particular waypoint is used by merchants leaving Telos on our vector traveling to a large majority of those destinations. The algorithms they used calculated that was an eighty-three point seven two percent chance of us exiting hyperspace at this point."

I grimaced. "Well, we'll need to work out a way to hide ourselves a bit better. But that's for later. Did you find any bounties for this crew?"

"Affirmative: Oh yes, Master. The crew were quite proud of the rewards offered for their capture or death. They advertised the posted bounties among themselves. One conveniently collated them all into a single data package. In English, I believe the term translates as 'bragging rights'."

Anakin finished with the console and piped up, a smile on his face. The kid was so guileless that I was going to have to teach him cards or something, just to stop his expression broadcasting his emotions.

"Translation: The new hyperspace route has been calculated and entered. The navcomputer on our other vessel has been slaved to this one. Both ships will follow the same route."

I raised an eyebrow at HK. "That's useful. But what happened to your usual disdain for meatbags?"

"Prevarication: I respect efficiency, Master."

I chuckled, figuring that Anakin had managed to calculate the route faster than HK had expected. "Telling me that you are distorting your response before you answer makes me think you are being less than truthful with me."

"Prevarication: It is your choice to believe so."

I turned to Anakin. "Go for it," I said with a nod, causing his grin to grow even wider. He pressed a couple of buttons, grabbed a lever and shifted it forward in one smooth move. There was the smallest shudder as the inertial compensator strained to cope with our sudden acceleration. I shook my head in wonder; even the most powerful inertia-damping charms couldn't come close to compensating to such abrupt changes in velocity.

"HK, can you see what you can find out about the jurisdiction of these bounties? See if we can unload them at Naboo. Oh, and see what we can do to keep this ship; it's much better than my other one. It doesn't have a faint yet persistent aroma of shit."We passed two more waypoints unmolested, though the tension was high each time. Finally, we reached our destination. Naboo was a glittering ball that looked even more like Earth than Telos. Dozens of ships were within visual range, waiting patiently for clearance to land. A few moments after we reverted from hyperspace, our com lit up.

The blue figure who appeared this time wore a severe uniform with a rank insignia. He barked a few threatening words that I didn't catch.

"Translation: The pompous meatbag has identified this vessel as belonging to a known pirate crew, and is demanding that we surrender. Observation: It appears he believes that a successful crew of anti-authoritarian criminals would surrender to him simply because he demands it in an authoritative tone of voice. The cognitive dissonance you organic meatbags display is astounding."

I shrugged, not disagreeing. I'd seen and dealt with puffed-up bullies before. "Tell him that we are simply innocent traders who fell afoul of this dastardly pirate crew," I said theatrically. "Inform him that we were fortunate enough to have with us a combat droid capable of pacifying an entire crew of reprobates. Oh, and tell him that we want the bounties posted on them and claim the ship as rightful booty."

HK appeared to process this. "Query: You intend to claim piratical behaviour to avoid being arrested for piracy?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Negative: Not at all, Master. Calculating possible responses. Charging weapons. This will be fun."

I grinned at him, but before I could suggest he calm down, Anakin spoke up. The hologram blinked at Anakin's name, was visibly startled at recognising him, and became almost subservient in manner."Or we could just use our resident celebrity," I said wryly.

Anakin's presence pushed us to the head of all sorts of queues. About ten minutes after the hologram disappeared, an official looking ship with sweeping, elegant lines pulled up alongside and docked with us. The cheeks on the boarding party ranged from pink with delight at the haul of surviving pirates to green with horror at the brutal vivisection on the deceased - I hadn't bothered cleaning the bits up yet. For a droid that claimed abominable levels of efficiency, he certainly could make up for it in sheer, distributed violence.

There was no condemnation however, which I found pleasantly satisfactory. Quite often over the past few years I'd been obliged to sit through lecture after repetitive lecture from indignant career bureaucrats who felt that my failure to bring in targets alive was simply due to a lack of effort on my part. Many Auror chiefs belonged to that seat-polishing set. Supposedly, it reflected poorly on them when a lone agent could waltz in and neutralise whatever problem they had.

I never could figure that mindset out. I wasn't constrained by the same laws they were, so of course I would be more effective in certain situations. You'd think that law enforcement leadership would be more enthusiastic. But no, the gratitude displayed by politicians who could take credit for ending a threat was always in direct contrast to the barely contained rage on Auror chiefs.

The Paris-based Auror chief in particular really had it in for me. Jean-Louis Devereaux absolutely loathed me; just because I was English. After all, every Englishmen knows that French women have a relaxed attitude towards matrimonial monogamy, right? And for someone pushing fifty, Madame Devereaux was a seriously fit witch who found fame, or at least infamy, intoxicating.

Fortunately, the French Ministry had fewer gripes with me than their Auror chief; especially the Mugwump Delacour. He was always pleased with my work; ever since the first bounty he hired me for resulted in such positive press that he ended up getting appointed to the ICW as France's representative. So long as he could keep Gabrielle on a different continent whenever I was in town, he was happy to pay my exorbitant rates to have problems neutralized.

Anakin's presence certainly solved one problem. Coupled with my high-priority cargo, we were given landing permission for my first ship. The other would need to remain in high orbit to be scanned and made secure by the pseudo-military forces on loan from the Galactic Government.

I was hesitant to leave my new ship in the hands of an armed force; it would make retaking it annoying and dealing with the consequences tedious. But Anakin assured me that the fellow in charge was honourable and would keep his word. Captain Panaka was not exactly Anakin's friend, but he was a well thought of ally.

Anakin was keen to go and see the Queen, while I was just as keen not to. Since his presence was already known however, forbidding him from socializing would no doubt attract even more unwanted attention. It was probable that the Jedi knew he'd disappeared from Telos, and if pirates had found us it wouldn't be difficult for the Jedi to do so.

Given that they'd dumped him on a planet and vanished into the sky, I wasn't sure just how much they valued him. Maybe by taking him I'd done them a favour? In any event, I wanted to sell my cargo and be off.So HK and I left him in the hands of the security team, took a shuttle over to my first ship, and descended to the planet's surface.

Even obviously damaged, my ship managed the atmosphere of Naboo with unexpected ease. On landing we got a few questioning looks and a couple of pointed laughs, but I had long ago learned to ignore such things.

There was no formal customs or anything; Naboo's infrastructure and civil service had been thoroughly stripped by the invaders. We had to pay a harried-looking lass (with a familiar crown of short horns - I had to forcibly keep myself from gripping my wand) a landing fee and a couple of other taxes based on the ship's stated hauling capacity for the right to sell items to the populous. I handed over the credits without a hint of the amusement I felt on my face.

We were directed to an open-air, bazaar-type market where dozens of ships were unloading food and medical supplies. These were then sold directly to buyers. There were a handful of uniformed beings keeping things from getting out of control, but for the most part they didn't seem needed. The people of Naboo seemed gentile, polite and peaceful; if rather hungry.

My cargo, coming from Telos, was quite in demand. Telos, or the AgriCorps at least, had a reputation for producing healthy, nutritious and uncontaminated food. The security seals on the pallets raised the value substantially.

HK's mercenary instincts served us well, as did our vast stores. We were able to supply uncountable small and medium buyers, and by keeping a track of what was selling quickly, HK could adjust prices on the fly.

I was kept busy levitating cargo out the doors and dispensing compulsion charms. Even after several hours, we only sold about half of what we had. With night falling and the bazaar winding down, we lifted off and flew across several timezones to another major city, where we did the whole repetitive exercise again. The market was smaller at the second city, with a different population mix. The humans were almost outnumbered by a species with long-ears, long-faces and short eyestalks - Gungans, according to HK. Still, they were hungry too, so we began sating the local appetite. Still encumbered with unsold cargo as that market wound down, we took off once more and picked a third major settlement, where we finally unloaded everything we had.

We hadn't been paid in credits, but in Senate-stamped trade tokens. Apparently there was some political resistance to just handing out hard cash to destitute victims of an invasion. There was some thought that it would just be used for unapproved purposes. It made little difference to us, however. There was a heavily-guarded station at the Theed spaceport staffed by Galactic Senate bureaucrats. They swapped the tokens for credits for offworld merchants who had official approval to trade.

I flew back and refueled the ship at the spaceport, noting that the pile of credits I'd taken from my ship's previous owners, Milanench and the two Jedi had expanded almost a hundredfold in just two journeys. At this rate, I'd be back at my previous level of personal wealth in no time.

The next morning HK transmitted a request for clearance to travel to the palace hangers to pick Anakin up. I flew the ship over the recovering city and landed in the assigned spot. On powering down the engines however, we were greeted by a group of Nabooan security forces led by Captain Panaka himself.

He made a declaration in Basic. I recognized it even though I could only roughly translate some of the words. I'd heard the same speech from officials often enough that I had long ago come to the conclusion that it was a standard script. "HK, did he just say that we were to go with them? I missed the second bit, but I'm guessing he wants me to disarm.""Affirmative: A reasonable approximation, Master. It was phrased as a request, but the underlying tone suggests otherwise. The meatbag also demanded that I remain here on the ship. He did not mention anything about your weaponry."

I snorted, crossed my arms and leaned against the bulkhead of the ship, a studied posture meant to convey disrespectful obstinacy. "Tell him we're only going to do one of those things, but it's his choice as to which."

"Observation: Openly defying meatbags charged with quelling resistance tends to escalate the violence level in a most satisfactorily rapid manner, Master. I have no objection whatsoever to laying waste to an entire planetary security force. However, bloodshed on such a scale will hamper future efforts to exploit their need for expensive supplies. This planet would no longer be a viable trading partner."

I kept my eyes directly on Panaka, but answered HK. "Ah, but he's not here to arrest us. He wouldn't be mucking about with requests if that was the case. He wants something. And he wants me at a disadvantage when he tells me what it is. I'm not inclined to play along, so tell him to pick which of his two orders he wants us to follow."

Our conversation in an unknown language caused a few narrowed eyes in the ranks. HK's answer caused Panaka to flush so much that I could see it even on his dusky cheeks. He spat out another demand.

"Translation:" HK began.

"Don't bother," I cut him off. I stared into Panaka's eyes and whispered, "Legilimens," while giving him an insouciant, one-shouldered shrug. "Tell him that he's welcome to either put his offer forward here, or sod off. It's no skin off my nose either way. But if he wants me to come with him, then we're both going. And we're going armed."

Panaka listened to HK, then raised his chin and retorted. Without understanding the words, through my spell I got the sensation of honesty, frustration and a tinge of shame.

"Translation: The meatbag claims that he merely wishes to offer you a commission. It is supposedly a delicate matter, however, and not to be discussed openly."

I nodded. "He's a rules-and-regulations guy, this one. And he wants something done that's borderline illegal, and it's making him frustrated."

"Observation: An astute analysis, Master."

I pushed off the bulkhead and strode down the ramp. "Well then, tell him that I'm always interested in money, so I'll happily hear him out. Come on. No sense in wasting time. We can ignore his demands for you to stay here while we walk."

Amid a constant stream of objections, we were taken into the palace via a back door and escorted through deserted corridors. Our destination was a secure room that contained a chap in ceremonial robes. Like most Nabooans I'd met, he looked haggard and weary. He spoke briefly with Panaka, who answered with disgust evident in his voice, before speaking to me. Panaka remained while his men filed out and firmly closed the door behind them."Translation: A standard, inefficient welcome and insincere inquiry into your physical health and status, Master. The meatbag's name is Sio Bibble."

I nodded, having understood the common phrases from my lessons. I tried replying in the local lingo. "Mr. Bibble, what you want?"

Bibble looked blankly at my question, and I made a mental note to redouble my efforts in learning Basic. Instead of answering, he asked another in return. I recognized it as a simple offer; would I like some food or drink?

I shook my head. "Credits," I said in Basic, holding up a hand and rubbing my fingertips together.

He sighed and shook his head minutely. "Very well," he responded. I was pleased at my ability to follow the simple conversation so far.

He took a deep breath, pulled out a datapad and started it up. He swiped the screen, showing me statues after paintings after books after jewellery. He spoke at length as he flicked past images of really quite impressive artwork.

"Translation: The Trade Federation stripped the planet of everything of value during the occupation and sold it. The Nabooans want it back, but can't afford to buy it."

"I find that hard to believe," I retorted. "The spaceport is swimming in money."

HK forwarded on my observation and listened.

"Observation: Bibble is a disturbingly honest politician, Master. He claims the credits supplied by the Senate are specifically for the relief efforts. Diverting them to a criminal organisation to buy back non-essential valuables would be looked upon unfavourably."

A simple snatch and dash job then. I wasn't disinclined, but I was curious as to why he was risking exposing himself to accusations of criminal collusion with someone he'd never met before. "Why I?" I asked in Basic.

HK listened to the answer. "Translation: They claim to have observed you advertising your services as a smuggler, moving large volumes of cargo undetected. Observation: They appear to believe that you somehow smuggled a large volume of food and sold it in openly in an effort to show off your skills. That is a conclusion that only a desperate meatbag could draw, given the data."

I gave Bibble an encouraging smile. "I'll take it as it comes. What's he offering, if there's not much in the way of credits?"

HK and Bibble negotiated briefly. "Answer, the pirate's ship, Master."I lost what joviality I had. "I will take that for myself with or without his approval."

"Technicality: Under Nabooan law, accused pirates are afforded some legal rights. As the Togruta legally owns the ship, simply taking it would be viewed as piracy on most of the planets we are likely to visit to trade. As the pirates are not Naboo citizens however, the costs associated with their legal defense are offset by impounding and auctioning their ship. Even purchasing such a vessel at auction is beyond your current finances, Master."

"The bounties on the pirates won't help cover it?"

"Negative: Official bounties are notoriously slow to be paid, Master. Bibble is offering the ship to you in a way that would make your ownership impossible for anyone to legally appeal."

I nodded. "So it's a crime for me to take his ship, but not for a government. Nice to see nothing ever changes. All right, let's discuss specifics. How many of these bits and pieces does he want in return for my ship?"

As HK and Bibble negotiated in earnest, I leaned back and watched the bureaucrat's body language. There was no need to let him know that any artifacts I recovered beyond the agreed number would be offered to him at obscene rates. He'd find it probably would have been cheaper to simply let me have my ship in the first place.

I got the impression that neither Bibble nor Panaka were too interested in dragging out the negotiations. Not only were there no doubt a great many demands on their time, and convincing someone they thought was a smuggler to steal stolen goods probably wasn't part of their usual job descriptions.

Job specifics agreed, I'd requested to be taken to Anakin so that we could leave. Panaka's attitude immediately went even frostier, but he complied, leading HK and I through the palace to a reception room where a group of women sat with my wayward mechanic.

The women were all uniformly dressed in delicate robes, with one exception. It could only be the Queen. No one else but royalty would willingly dress in such a ludicrous manner.I was quite surprised to discover that the Queen was a teenager. From what Anakin had told us and what HK had pulled from the local holonet about her achievements, I was expecting her to be some sort of muscular Amazonian warrioress. A slender, petite little girl did not fit the vision.

Still, as a scrawny, under-fed lad of twelve I'd managed to slay a basilisk with some allies and a big dose of luck, so who's to say she wasn't a true warrior? I wasn't going to discount her accomplishments.

She certainly carried herself as a warrior. The first words out of her mouth to me had Anakin flushing with shame and anger.

"Translation: The female meatbag wants to know if you have long had the habit of kidnapping helpless children."

I gave her a wry smile and a soft chuckle, not offended in the least. "Tell her not nearly as long as she has condoned slavery."

HK dutifully translated, and I was pleased to see a faint colour rise in her cheeks. Several of the other women shifted uncomfortably; one even looked at me with a murderous expression. The Queen raised her chin and retorted haughtily.

"Verbatim Translation: I have never condoned it, and I resent the implication."

"Sorry, were we not just making shit up about each other?"

"Observation: I had assumed that you wished to leave here without bloodshed, Master. How pleased I am to be proved wrong."

I sighed. "Just translate, HK. This is a verbal dance that people do when they know they've done something bad, or in this case, neglected to do the right thing. She won't admit that leaving Anakin in the Order's custody was wrong, but she knows they treated him poorly and she's angry about it. She'll take that anger out on me. But she's got nothing but righteous indignation to support her views." I paused. "Actually, tell her what I just said. I'm interested in her reaction."

"Observation: May I charge weapons, just in case?"

I waved my hand imperiously. "By all means, but surreptitiously, if you please."

HK spoke for a while, and the Queen's sullen demeanour did not soften in the slightest. She asked a short question."Translation: What did you intend to do with the little meatbag?"

I glanced over at Anakin, who had started to look at the Queen with a little less adoration and a little more irritation. "Do with him? He's a member of my crew, nothing more or less. He is as free to leave as he is to stay. He may go wherever and whenever he desires."

HK translated. He got it mostly right from what I could tell; Anakin looked pleased while the Queen looked decidedly less aggressive. She spoke quickly.

"Translation: She demands that you leave the little meatbag here on Naboo with her."

"Demands?" I asked him. "Do you mean, legally or morally?"

"Clarification: There was no justification specified, Master."

I crossed my arms. "Ask her if Anakin is a member of her family, or a citizen of this world."

As HK spoke, I gently sent out a tendril of Legilimency. Her emotions were all over the place; an impressive feat, given her calm demeanour. She truly cared for Anakin, but believed he belonged with the Jedi. Specifically, he belonged with the two who helped rescue her world. She gave HK a long answer.

"Translation: She admits that she has no legal authority over the boy, but insists that he is a part of the Jedi Order."

"Tell her that if she insists on returning him to them then despite her earlier claims, she does in fact condone slavery. Unless she has another definition for forcing an uneducated boy to work for no pay and have no choice in the matter."

That got her to flush hard; it was visible even through the heavy cosmetics. Her response was curt and flat.

"Translation: She claims that kidnapping him from his guardians is a criminal act."

I gave her a lop-sided grin. "Oh good, she's not denying it. Ask her if, legalities aside, it would be moral for me to surrender a child to someone else if that child was going to be sent to be a slave on a farm."

"Observation: Your methods of diplomacy are most satisfactorily unsubtle, Master. Translating now."

As HK offended the Queen even more on my behalf, I gave Anakin a wink. He smiled at me, but it was obvious he still adored the Queen.

"Translation: She denies that the Jedi order practices slavery, though she is noticeably vague on the specific details."

I rose to my feet. "Well, I'm not going to bother arguing with her any more. Tell Anakin - in Huttese - that we're off. If he doesn't want to come, I'll give him his pay and we'll be on our way, no hard feelings. If he wants to come, he's welcome. Coincidentally, we're heading to Tatooine, so we'll probably get the opportunity to go and buy his mother's freedom. What he's earned so far will be more than enough to cover it."The Queen and her guards were mightily offended as HK's use of Huttese. Anakin listened, but brightened considerably at the end. He responded in kind.

The Queen's entourage objected to the conversation she wasn't involved in, but I ignored them.

"Translation: The little meatbag wants to free his mother. He has decided to come with us."

I grinned and turned my back on the women. Despite the howls of offense at my impertinence, I swaggered out of the reception room with HK at my shoulder. Anakin trotted along behind, calling out over his shoulder at the Queen. They had a short, tight conversation, but Anakin was resolute. He was going to leave with us.