Star Wars: Rebel Rising(75)

“But you can do it?”

Jyn nodded. She couldn’t tell if Captain was relieved or disappointed by that.

“I wasn’t always a slaver,” he said finally, his eyes still on the ident pads. “Fact is, I used to be a slave myself.”

Jyn didn’t speak. She had learned her lesson on Five Points well.

“Allehander Pso was my last owner. Bought me from Kiretim, who bought me from my stepfather. Evil bastard, that man.”

Jyn knew a thing or two about bastard fathers.

“Being a slave…” Captain finally looked at Jyn. “It wears on you. I hated it. Kiretim made me wear a collar. It was a constant reminder that I was a thing. Not a person. Couldn’t do what I wanted. Couldn’t even dream, not with that thing strangling me.” He put his hand up to his bare neck. “Allehander took my collar off. He cares about what a person’s use is, not status. Saw I had a use.”

“As a slaver,” Jyn couldn’t help saying.

A shadow passed over Captain’s face. “As a pilot.”

“And this…?” Jyn indicated the ship.

“The cargo changes. It’s not all bad.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Is it worth it?” Jyn finally asked. “Is it worth helping other people be enslaved, just so you can have your freedom?” She sought his eyes, truly curious about his answer.

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “Now I have to ask you something. You gonna be a problem? It’s okay to not like what you do, but you still have to do it.”

“I was paid. That’s all I care about,” she lied.

Captain nodded once, accepting her answer. “Don’t let the boys ride you,” he said. “They aren’t used to being reminded what they are. They give you trouble, let me know.”

Jyn thanked him, but when he left, she locked her door again, making sure Captain heard the metallic click. Then she finally allowed herself to unpack. She spread out all her credits, the ones from Commander Solange and the ones from Allehander Pso, and she set them beside the twenty ident pads. She did not let herself think of the names written there again.

She knew what she should do, and she knew what she had to do.





Travel through the Five Points system was tedious, a series of short jumps as they zigzagged to avoid the space debris that littered the entire system. What should have been a quick journey was drawn out at an excruciatingly slow pace.

It was three days before Mathey and the boys let her go into the cargo hold. The boys hung back near the stairs, watching, as Mathey led Jyn into the hold.

There were seven cells, with two to three people in each one, despite the fact that the cells were about half the size of Jyn’s room. One bucket of water with a ladle hanging from the side stood near each door.

Jyn covered her mouth.

“Yeah, the smell’s the worst,” Mathey conceded. He had been warming to Jyn over the past few days. “We’re going to have to wash the floor with halliol acid to clear out the stink.”

The slaves had been trying to keep their areas clean, but the only thing in each cell was the bucket, and they couldn’t defecate there. “Why not just let them go to the restroom?” Jyn asked.

Mathey snorted. “Ain’t none of us have time to ‘escort’ ’em,” he sneered. “You volunteering?”

Jyn’s eyes watered at the stench, but she shook her head. Don’t show emotion, she ordered herself.

Jyn had read over all the ident pads, and she knew that most of the slaves were young, between the ages of seven and eleven. There was a difference, though, between reading names and numbers and seeing their faces.

The five adult slaves were all women, and from the way they reached for the children through the bars, Jyn suspected that most of them were the children’s mothers. None of them had similar surnames, but names meant nothing. Jyn knew that.

Mathey picked up a short stick that had been plugged into the wall. Jyn noticed that the nearby prisoners all scooted away as soon as he touched it, and she looked at it closer.

“Stun prod,” he said, slapping it in his palm. “Don’t kill ’em, but gives ’em a buzz.” He drew the last word out, widening his eyes in a way that made him look mad. He lunged at one cell holding three children, and the little girl inside screamed and scrambled to the back wall, slipping on the filth covering the floor. He laughed; he had only meant to get a reaction out of her, and it had worked.

“Leave her alone!” one of the women roared, straining to reach through the bars. “I’ll kill you!” she choked out, her face turning purple with rage.

Mathey turned, hate in his eyes, and Jyn stepped forward. She stood directly in front of the woman, but far enough away that her fingers couldn’t quite grasp Jyn.

“I was raised by a man who taught me to fight,” Jyn said. “He was the strongest person I ever knew, and he’d never let anyone hurt me. You know what my most important lesson was?”

The entire hold was silent, even the children.

The woman shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

“Don’t start a fight you can’t win.” Jyn turned on her heel and left the cargo hold. The boys howled at the woman, rattling the bars of her cage, laughing at her screams.