Child of Endor, Part 1

I.
Finery did not suit Rin Fidsmore. At least, that’s how he felt. He was used to rougher cuts of cloth, resilient to the point of abrasive. Silk and velvet were too boring, yet appearing tonight in anything but would be most ostentatious.
He spotted Jaesa in a small crowd of ruffled gowns and feathers. Across the room, their eyes met. Though only fourteen, she stood as tall as the other women. When the need arose, she carried herself like an adult too. Where they came from, growing up fast was their only means of survival.
Rin had been just a whelp himself, barely nine years old, when Jorrah took him out of the tunnels. Pale and malnourished, so deprived of sunlight that the brighter lanterns – the ones reserved for the overseers – stung his eyes. Children were usually the first to perish, whether starvation or mine rats got to them first, but somehow he was still standing.
“Something to drink?” An insistent voice shook Rin from his thoughts. 
A man, barely older than he, stood in front of him with a tray laden with glass flutes of spirit. There were toasts upon toasts: to the betrotheds, to the merging family businesses, ad nauseum. Rin was feeling antsy. It was getting harder to play at being joyous with the very crowd that profit so much off of human suffering.
He glanced towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the sky outside. Any minute now….
Finally, from outside came the shriek of a solitary firework, surely a rookie mistake before the rest went off at midnight. Crowds pressed towards the verandah, indignant voices rising above the general thrum. People tutted in mild annoyance. Someone was surely getting fired. This was Rin’s cue.
Like clockwork, he felt Jaesa press a small key into his hand.
He darted towards the nearest exit, reversing the pattern on his neck kerchief as he went. Now, he would blend in with the help. Servers came and went with trays of refreshments or half-eaten food. Rin cringed inwardly at the waste, knowing those rejected bites could sustain a starving miner for days, weeks even.
He’d been over the route with Jorrah countless times. Getting into Alastor Fawkes’ private study would be a cakewalk. Once he entered the east wing, it would be the seventeenth door on the right. He crept past each door, mentally counting each one. At least, he came to the right one, and turned the key in the lock.
Rin shut the door and paused to let his eyes adjust to the dark. Straight ahead, lit only by shreds of moonlight sifting through thick, velvet curtains, was the spice mogul’s desk. Somewhere in its polished wooden depths was the object of his search: Alastor Fawkes’ ledger.
Carefully, he slid open the top drawer. He was about to begin sifting through the contents when he heard a floorboard creak nearby.
Rin froze, wishing he’d been able to carry a blaster, or at least a knife, without arousing suspicion. The way he saw it, if he screwed up, he was a sitting duck.
He craned his neck to where he remembered the sound, only to feel cold metal pressed against his throat.
“You have five seconds to explain yourself,” someone whispered. The voice was soft, words enunciated like a highborn. Rin detected the slightest quaver of uncertainty….
He looked up and found himself staring into the wide, fearful eyes of a young woman. She was small, with barely any meat on her bones, and short enough to stand comfortably upright in a spice mine. A meter and a half or thereabouts. Judging by the smooth, uncalloused hands gripping her knife and her elaborate dress, she'd never had to work a day in her life.
Rin jerked to the side and lunged, grabbing her velvet-sleeved arm and spinning her around so her weapon was pointed into herself. To Rin’s bemusement, the “knife” was merely a letter opener, blunted from frequent use. A simple squeeze of the wrist and the girl dropped it, the impact muffled by thick carpet at their feet.
“Didn’t go the way your swashbuckler books said it would, huh?” Rin quipped.
“I'll scream,” the girl countered.
With a sweep of the leg, Rin knocked her forward and pinned her face-down on the rug.
“Here's how this is going to go, little girl,” Rin hissed, spitting out a mouthful of auburn hair. “You're going to keep your pretty mouth shut until I find what I'm looking for. Got it?”
She whimpered softly in agreement.
Rin eased off of her and returned to his search. Time was running out. Whoever she was, surely someone would wonder where she went.
Sweat ran down his face as he rifled through the drawers. There were datapads on art, theater, and horticulture. One album of salacious imagery. A directory of contacts. A blank calendar.
“What do you want of my father’s?” The girl asked, slowly picking herself up off the floor. Something in his gut and in her tone told him not to stop her, that she could be trusted.
“A ledger,” Rin answered grimly, honestly. “Acquisitions, mergers …. people.” That last word rang hollow. To think Lord Fawkes saw them as anything more than tools of the trade seemed improbable.
Wordlessly, the girl crossed the room and looked up at a landscape painting, a forest scene. Barely perceptible to the naked eye were a set of hinges along one side.
It was an old safe, which was to be expected. These highborns valued their generations-old things. Nothing changed, simply maintained. Rin reached for the combination dial, but the girl gently nudged his hand away. With a few gentle, practiced turns of the dial, she unlocked it herself.
There was a soft hiss as the door opened. Inside were small, leatherbound books stacked several layers deep.
“Papa's ledgers,” the girl declared with a hint of smugness.
Rin opened the newest looking volume and flipped through the pages. It had everything they needed and more. He slipped it into the breast pocket of his waistcoat; the girl didn't protest.
“That's that, I guess–”
With unexpected roughness, she turned, grabbed his head and kissed his mouth. They fell gently into the painting, the safe door clicking shut behind it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rin could see the outline of two men peering through the doorway. From their perspective, his face was indiscernible and neither was hers. Two lovers in a secluded room were hardly suspicious at a gathering like this. 
At a loss for how else to acknowledge, Rin leaned into her, reciprocating the kiss as he listened to the receding footsteps.
After a time, the girl pulled back. “Father's security,” she stammered. “I-I’m terribly sorry.”
Rin shrugged. “Don't be.” It was a clumsy, inexperienced kiss, sure. But she had good instincts.  If not for her quick thinking, Rin would have been cooked. Without thinking, cupping her chin in one hand, he pulled her back in for another.
She let out a startled little noise, muffled by his lips on hers, before he felt her relax against his chest. She was cautious, curious, eager. He was happy to guide. For a short time, he let himself forget about the job.
Outside, another flare zinged into the night sky. Moments later, the light show started properly, bathing the room in colors. It was midnight.
The door to the study burst open again. Protectively, Rin pushed the girl behind him. 
It was only Jaessa. “Rin, that was the signal. We have to go,” she snapped, but paused when she realized they weren't alone.
She code-switched immediately. “Lady Iliana,” she said primly.
Iliana sighed. “It's alright. I already know.” She tried in vain to smooth her hair back into place, looking flustered.
“Jase, were you followed?” Rin demanded.
“I wouldn't be surprised,” Jaesa replied. “Do you have the book?”
Rin nodded. Heavy footsteps, many of them, were speeding towards the study.
“Go out that window.” Iliana pointed. “You'll land in the maze, but when you get out, keep heading south. You'll be at the old riverbed.”
Jaesa, taking the initiative, pushed open the window in question and climbed onto the sill. “Come on, Rin.”
Reluctantly, Rin pulled away and followed suit.
They landed in a shrub that broke their fall, but also its unnaturally square shape. He helped Jaesa up. She glared at him, visibly annoyed.
“You really had to make a pass at Alastor’s daughter, didn't you?”
Rin touched his lip wistfully. “She was already there when I….” His voice trailed off. “You were supposed to be watching her!”
“I didn't think she'd run off,” Jaesa retorted, “from her own engagement party!”
“Engaged?” Rin repeated.
“Yeah, she is.” Jaesa broke into a run, calling over her shoulder, “Gods, Rin. You really are hopeless!”

Jorrah was waiting for them in the speeder, watching his timekeeper with a look of great consternation. Jaesa climbed up front with him, leaving Rin to fend for himself with the cargo.
“They're here.” The older man spoke into his comm. “Heading to the rendezvous now.”
“Copy that.” The response crackled with feedback. “Bringing the ship around.”
A bolt of light shot past Rin’s ear before hitting the dashboard. “Company, Jorrah!”
Jaesa brought the blast shield up just in time to repel a barrage of laser bolts. Security had caught up to them.
“Swap with me, Rin!” Jorrah leapt to the back, leaving the throttle at max. 
“Rin, look out!” Jaesa screamed. Rin caught the yoke in time to swerve a large tree.
The old man reached out the window and fired off a few blasts. Alastor Fawkes’ security detail had bigger speeders and more gunmen. They were severely outnumbered, but Rin was used to these odds.
The Fawkes' land spanned several acres. Rin wondered how long security would keep up. Would they be followed past the border, or would they retreat to take it up with the police?
Hello, Constable, we would like to report a missing book. No, it's not easily replaceable. The Lord Fawkes' records of enslaved factory workers aren't something we back up in multiple databases. Surely you understand, it is not something we advertise.
Behind him, Jorrah cried out. “I'm hit!” Rin tried to focus on the road despite the stench of singed human flesh.
Screaming in fear, Jaesa picked up the blaster and fired clumsily at their pursuers. Just then, the comm crackled. “Jorrah, come in!”
Up ahead, a large freighter hovered close to the ground, the loading ramp open. Their freighter, the Ruin. 
Safe at last.
Rin hit turbo and sent their speeder up and aboard in record time.
Rin didn't wait for the engine to cut before helping Jorrah out of the speeder. “Medkit!” he howled.
Jaesa scrambled off to find one.
Tala, the copilot, came running over. She took to Jorrah’s other side and helped him over to a chair. “What happened?”
“Fawkes’ men caught on,” Jorrah winced. “They put up one hell of a chase.”
Jaesa returned with the medkit, a roll of gauze unfurling behind her like a tail. Rin intercepted it and Tala got to work.
“Did you get the ledger?” Hela asked.
Rin pulled it out with a flourish.
“Rin almost frakked the whole thing up,” Jaesa pouted. “Because of a girl.” She said the word the way one might say boils or worms.
Rin felt his face flush.
Hela and Jorrah chuckled. “At least we have it now,” Jorrah said, his tone laying the matter to rest.

They left the Ruin a short way's away from landmark Iliana mentioned, with plans to lay low for a few days. Some corporate entity had drained this once-majestic river of all its resources only decades prior. With nothing left to take, no one went near it.
Rin sat across from Jorrah in their mess room, watching him flip through the ledger’s pages. Neither spoke, only looked grim, each reliving things on their own. They'd all come from there, the very places listed. Factories, mines…. 
Tala, they found in a brothel along with seven other girls. Two of them were grown now, had families, and sent baby pictures regularly over holomail. Jaesa got a kick out of those.
Rin wondered if people knew the truth about where their goods came from. Not just luxury items. Basic things like soap, fruit, the clothes they wore. The lower the price, the higher the chances a small child was involved in the production. He knew this because he'd been one.
Jorrah cleared his throat. “Two active mining colonies on Kafor, six factories on Thalassa.” Jorrah scanned the relevant pages with his data pad, wincing from use of the bad arm. “These planets are poorly regulated, legal wastelands.”
“When do we hit these sites?” Rin asked.
“As soon as we can be sure they've put us out of their minds.”
Jaesa burst in. “Jorrah, there's no more purple carrots and Rin finished the cheese!”
Jorrah took a deep breath. “Jaesa, I was just telling Rin, we need to lie low until–”
“We're also out of kaf.”
Rin caught the speeder keys from mid-air. “Rin, go with Jaesa into town.”
Rin rolled his eyes while Jaesa gave a little squeal of delight.
“And be discreet!”


Rin and Jaesa parked the speeder behind a livestock barn. With a tarp for extra camouflage, hopefully no trouble would come their way. Just to be safe, they kept their hoods up.
“We're only here for food,” Rin reminded Jaesa, who was admiring a strange, snaggletoothed doll at a vendor's booth.
Jaesa put her gangly hands on her hips. “Did Jorrah say to hurry back?” A beat. “No, he didn't. Unlike yesterday, we can take all the time we want!”
“You can walk back,” Rin retorted. “Go buy your stupid carrots, jackalope.”
It wasn't crowded, which meant he could keep an eye on Jaesa from the shade of an empty booth. Most vendors were closed for a midday siesta. Those who stayed open could overcharge for convenience.
His hand jumped to his blaster the second someone touched him from behind. He whirled around to see a certain redheaded girl grinning at him from underneath a large sun hat.
Rin swore, causing the middle-aged woman at Iliana's side to bristle uncomfortably.
“Don't do that, Iliana. I mean, Lady Fawkes,” he added sarcastically.
“Walk with me, Rin.” Iliana took his arm and ushered him away.
“Can we lose the chaperone?” Rin cast a sidelong glance at the older woman.
“I could ask the same of your little friend there,” Iliana retorted lightheartedly. Gone was the genteel highborn character Jaesa had played last night. In her stead was a savage, slouching carrot-goblin, loading little parcels of dubious necessity into a canvas bag.
Jaesa noticed their visitor and pulled a most ungentlewomanly face.
Rin sighed. “What do you want, Iliana?”
She quirked her lips, those lips, in mock contemplation. “I want to see you again, in private.”
Rin’s blood rushed. Much as he tried not to think about it, all he wanted to do was kiss her again, right in the thoroughfare. But wasn’t she engaged? The very least she could do was explain.
“Fine. My dad’s study this time?”
Iliana chuckled. She stood on tip-toe to whisper in his ear, “The Belladonna, at dusk. Don’t be late.”
She turned primly on her heel and walked back to the other woman.
At the same time, Jaesa bounded up with a full bag of goods. “Are you finished talking to your giiiiiirlfriend?” she asked mockingly.
Rin shoved her, affectionately of course. “Are you ready to walk home?”