The Dawn Raider was as unimpressive a freighter vessel on the inside as she was from without. Glowpanels filled the corridors with barely adequate light. The durasteel decking was functional, with dents and scrapes marking its dull, metallic surface. Anonymous, unmarked cables and conduits snaked openly along the walls, scrambling over one another as they veered over doorways and around corners. The whole place was grey, grubby-looking, and a little corroded. Barin registered his surroundings automatically, and felt them rather apt. They suited his mood- dull, grey, with rot creeping in around the edges. Barin's feet clunked against the decking, counterpoint to the soft padding of the Wookie to his left and the ringing tread of the bulky Rodian on his right. Members of the Raider's crew could be seen here and there, through open doorways. The only hip not sporting a blaster was that of the Rodian, and he made up for that with the rifle slung across his back and a pair of wicked-looking, well used fighting knives at his belt. The faces that turned towards the young ex-Jedi held expressions of proud curiosity, challenging and dangerous as they sized up the intruder. Barin knew what they would see: a pale weed of a Human with a bruised face, trying not to move too stiffly despite the bruises and the pain of of his day's work. He returned their gaze with cool composure and smiled, grimly. He had been to darker places than this, and faced beings worse than they; and in all likelihood he had done far worse than many of them. As he stared back at his observers, unafraid, he saw their expressions slide into uncertainty. Barin felt himself smiling at having stared them down, and swallowed hard as he let his gaze slide away. The sweetness of that taste of power made him feel ill. It was the same power he had felt as his sword sunk into his Master's side. The same power he had felt as Juli's head smacked back into the permacrete. Even now, as he ran away in cowardice, the darkness shadowed him. He did not have the courage to face the light; and he could not even find the courage to grasp the darkness. "In here," said the Rodian, stopping at a door just like all the others. It sprang aside with alacrity, although Barin had not seen the Rodian operate any control. The opening stood there, waiting, lights flickering from within. Barin caught a breath, feeling unprepared. He had run; what was he running into? His thoughts had all been of escape. Only now, faced with the open door, did they turn to the future; and then only to ponder how to continue his escape. He seemed unable to contemplate anything beyond that. He had started running a long time ago, he realised now. He had started running when he first met Arina: running from the life he had been trained for, running from his Master's wishes. He had run from the knowledge that Arina was lost to him; run from the darkness even after he had embraced it. In his fear, unable to run, he had killed the one man in all the galaxy he had believed would never condemn him; and now he ran from whatever justice the Jedi deemed suitable. In trying to escape, he found himself being marched under guard to speak to the being he was informed had absolute authority over anyone aboard the Dawn Raider. He had run so far, and still there was no end. Freedom could never be his destiny. Taking a breath that was a little deeper than required, Barin stepped through onto the bridge beyond. The diminutive figure that awaited him was no larger than Master Yoda: a slender being with golden fur and a sweet, furry face. Then Barin looked into his eyes and any amusement at the being's appearance drained away. Here was authority. Here was the one who had no need to challenge anybody any more. "Ssssso," hissed the golden-furred being, and the sound was repeated from the box hanging about his neck. The creature spoke again, a jumble of sibilants that were picked up by the box around his neck and spat out a moment later in intelligible Huttese. "I am Captain Ball," the creature said. "You will call me 'Sir'. What name shall we call you by?" Barin hesitated. The question had not been 'what is your name?' The question, by its very phrasing, did not ask for his real name. "Marty," he said, pulling the word out at random. "These are the rules, Marty," the Captain stated. "You are a Cabin Boy. You are on probation until I say otherwise. You will follow the orders of myself, of the First Mate, and of your line officer, in that order. You will do nothing that will endanger the safety of the vessel or its crew except by the orders of one of those officers. You will work three watches every two day cycles. You will not leave the vessel except under the escort of a full crew member. Cabin boys do not get shore leave." Barin digested the words, and pondered his chances of getting back off the vessel alive if he disagreed with the Captain. There had to be other ships he could take. Perhaps he could stow away on board one of the large liners, they had so many passengers he could slip in among them unseen... "What if I decide not to join?" he asked. "You have no choice," the Captain replied, but as Barin began do contemplate escape in earnest, the Captain continued. "You needn't look like that, Cabin Boy. Nobody comes to the Raider if they have another choice. And you should learn to hide your feelings better." Automatically, Barin shut down his expression. The Captain stared his new recruit in the face, then nodded approval. "Good. You will have a bed," he went on. "What you do there is your own business unless it breaks one of the other rules. You will have one square meter of storage space in the small hold. What you keep in it is your own business. You will be provided with food and an allowance for clothes. Your clothing must be suitable for work. You may carry no weapon except under the supervision of the Chief Weapons Officer or your line officer. Fighting with other Cabin Boys or with members of the crew is forbidden when you are on duty. Your free time is your own within the constraints of the rules already stated." Barin's mind wrapped around what he had been told, probing the loopholes and the words left unsaid, and he found fewer restrictions than he had known since his Initiate days. His own time, his own business, space of his own. "Those are rules?" "You would like something stricter, Cabin Boy?" the Captain asked, the automatic translator giving no hint of amusement or disapproval. "I enforce the rules. It is the crew that sets them." Barin managed not to frown with thought. "You are not one of the crew, sir?"There was a long pause before the Captain spoke. "Good. You will do well here, I think. I am one of the crew, Cabin Boy. You are not. Yet." Barin was wary, but now he was curious. He knew the company he was among. He had not been expecting any sort of democracy. He wondered too whether what remained unsaid might not still has unspoken rules. After all, he might do nothing to endanger the ship; but by NOT speaking he might do so. He was a wanted man. They would find him eventually; and then he would be trapped between vengeful Jedi and vengeful pirates, and he thought little of his chance for escape then. Better to leave now, using that as his excuse. "Speak," the Captain commanded, watching Barin's face, nodding again when once more Barin remembered to blank his expression. "They will be looking for me," Barin said. The Captain gave a strange ticking sound that Barin eventually realised was laughter. "The bounty on my head is one million credits, Cabin Boy. Can you equal that? The Raider will not be found unless she wishes to be found." "I killed a Jedi Master", Barin said, and he knew he paled as he said the words even though his expression remained under durasteel control. The Captain gave him another of his penetrating glances. "Then you will be useful," he said. "Perhaps you can show Gunner and Vlek how it is done. But do not worry yourself, the Jedi have yet to find us. Besides, who will be concerned with Cabin Boy Marty? You are a nothing. A nobody. Your past is gone." The Captain made a flat gesture with his hand to emphasise the point. Gone? Could he leave himself behind? Become someone new? Barin's chin lifted; then, with only the barest flicker of a grimace as he yet again failed to suppress his reactions to the satisfaction of the sharp-eyed Captain, he dropped back into neutrality. The Captain's eyes half closed, studying him. "Learn quickly, Cabin Boy. Learn quickly, and you will earn a place here." The Captain nodded, then gestured at the door. "I shall put you in Gunnery for now, under Chief Weapons Officer Agragree. Perhaps you can set a good example for Not-So-Able-Spacehand Cash. Go. Shian will be waiting for you. She will make you an ID chip, change your appearance a little, show you your bed, and show you where to report. You will not see me again for a while." Barin nodded; the Captain gave no indication that he should salute. "Thank you sir," he said, and when the Captain made no response, he turned. It was not Barin who stepped back out through the door from the bridge. It was Cabin Boy Marty. A nothing. A nobody. An unknown probationary pirate, with a glimmer of light in his eyes as at last he caught his first glimpse of freedom. |
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| The Rules Of Freedom By HaiGan |
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