Razor's Edge

by Martha Wells

  Metara invited them to sit down. Leia took a seat on one of the couches, and Han flopped down beside her, seemingly unconcerned. Terae’s gaze flicked over them suspiciously, and Leia tried to see her group through the other woman’s eyes: Han dangerous, Sian cool and calm, and Kifar stoic. Leia had no idea what she looked like. She suspected she just looked angry.

  She watched Metara silently. She wasn’t interested in exchanging pleasantries, especially as there was no telling how much this delay might already be hurting the injured aboard the merchant ship. She waited to hear what Metara wanted to say.

  Metara broke the silence abruptly. “We didn’t watch Alderaan be destroyed and then suddenly decide to become pirates. That isn’t what happened.”

  Leia inclined her head slightly. “What did happen?”

  Metara took a deep breath. “We were in the outer perimeter of the system. We intercepted some Imperial transmissions and realized that an attack was taking place. We set a course for Alderaan but didn’t arrive in time. We never actually saw the Death Star.” Her expression tightened at the name, as if it still cost her something to say it aloud. Leia knew how that felt. “Our sensors and communications were taken out by the blast wave, and we had to stop and make repairs. We had no idea what had happened, at first. Then we were finally able to make our way back and picked up the edge of the debris field. It was … a terrible moment.”

  Watching Metara intently, Leia realized that the captain had thought a lot about how she would explain what had happened, though it was doubtful that she had ever cast Leia in the role of the person she would be explaining it to. Perhaps she had rehearsed the speech in her thoughts, imagining herself justifying her actions to her commanding officer, or one of her parents, or a mentor. That didn’t bode well. It meant that Metara had been shoring up her defenses for a long time.

  When Leia didn’t respond, Kelvan said, “Everyone on the crew had lost … everyone, everything. Our families came from Chianar, Aldera …” At the mention of the Alderaanian capital, he shifted in embarrassment and looked away, as if suddenly remembering who Leia was. That she had lost everyone, too.

  Her voice a challenge, Terae said, “Where were you, Your Highness? When it happened.”

  “I was aboard the Death Star,” Leia said, keeping her tone cool, hoping she was betraying nothing. She had rehearsed this, too, and performed it so often she could do it as evenly as if she were speaking of some minor diplomatic incident.

  Terae stared, and Metara’s brow knit. Aghast, Kelvan said, “I thought that was a rumor.”

  “There are many rumors about what happened, but that one is true. I … escaped,” she said, not looking at Han, “not long after. I was on Yavin Four when the Death Star was destroyed.” But Leia wanted them to keep talking about themselves, not her. “What did you do then?”

  Metara rubbed her palms on her pants. “We detected some other surviving ships, on the outer edges of the system. They told us they knew where to make contact with the Alliance, that they were going to join it, to fight the Empire. My crew discussed it, and …” Her expression hardened. “We felt it was Alderaan’s association with the Alliance that led to its destruction.”

  She spoke the words as if she expected an argument. Leia said, “That is certainly true. Is that why you decided not to join the Alliance?”

  “Yes.” Metara lifted her chin. Leia’s failure to argue the point had clearly thrown her off her prepared speech, and her tone turned defensive. “We wanted to fight the Empire on our own terms.”

  Leia wanted to ask how attacking traders with no Imperial affiliations qualified as fighting the Empire, but she managed to refrain. “This was a decision you all agreed with?”

  She wanted to find out if there had been any dissent among the crew at that point. From the way Terae and Kelvan both looked at Metara to see what their response should be, she felt the answer was probably no.

  Terae said, “If Alderaan had kept to its principles of peace and neutrality, the Empire would not have attacked.”

  And if the Empire had not been corrupt, venal, and determined to destroy any hint of resistance, the Empire would not have presented a threat to Alderaan’s peace in the first place, Leia thought. This was not an argument she wanted to have again, but she seemed perpetually doomed to repeat it. Her punishment for surviving, perhaps. “Alderaan was too powerful, too influential. Sooner or later, the Empire would have found a reason to attack us, no matter how peaceful and neutral we claimed to be.”

  She met Metara’s gaze. “And becoming a pirate is an odd way to embrace the principles of peace and neutrality.” She added deliberately, “Pirates are one of the chief suppliers of the slave trade currently flourishing under the Empire.” She had been trying to halt the trade in sentient species since she had first become a Senator, and she probably knew more about it than the soulless bastards who profited from it. If Metara thought she could operate as a pirate and somehow keep her hands clean of the slave trade, she was a fool.

  Terae bristled. “We would never stoop to that! That’s not what we’re—”

  Metara stopped her with a glance. She told Leia, “We have never sold crews into slavery. We do not take captives.”

  “Then what do you do with the people left alive on the ships you target?”

  The question hung in the air a moment. Then Metara said, “We leave them aboard. After we’ve gone, they can call for assistance if their systems are too damaged to repair. All we’re interested in are the cargoes.”

  It was naïve at best, and Leia was sure Metara must be aware of that on some level. There were bound to be casualties; the crews of the targeted ships would believe they were fighting for their lives and freedom, and they wouldn’t hold back. And there had to be ships too damaged to repair, for whom help didn’t arrive in time. Not to mention the loss of property that could send small shipping concerns and merchant companies into financial ruin. “It’s a hard way to make a living,” Leia said, an edge of irony in her tone.

  Leia meant that it was hard on the victims, but Metara said, “Believe me, we’re all too aware of that. At first all we were concerned with was survival.”

  Han said suddenly, “There are a lot of jobs you could take on with a ship like this. Hauling freight or guarding merchant trade routes in backwater systems is boring, but you can live on it.”

  Leia didn’t glance at him. She knew that pirates often preyed on smugglers the same way they preyed on legal shipping, and that it was likely that Han had had personal experience with their depredations. And Han had had to scramble to make a living in the murkier margins of the galactic trade routes; that Metara professed not to be able to survive with this ship and her loyal well-trained crew must be like a slap in the face. But Leia would have preferred him to stay out of the conversation, mostly because she was worried enough about her own penchant for sarcasm and didn’t have the time at the moment to worry about Han’s.

  “That’s what we did at first,” Kelvan told him. “We also hired out as a picket ship for small trading posts, but …” He glanced at Metara again. “We encountered Imperials.”

  Leia suspected that “encountered Imperials” was a diplomatic way to describe whatever had happened. She had dealt with her own overwhelming moments of rage after Alderaan, though watching the Death Star be destroyed had helped. She suspected that what Kelvan meant was that Captain Metara had let her rage come before the good of her crew and ship.

  “We wanted peace, but it turned out we wanted revenge more,” Metara said.

  Yes, there’s that “we” again. “So you were recognized and attacked as an Alderaanian ship?” Leia asked. “Or you fired on Imperial ships?” She was certain now that she knew what had happened. Metara had stepped up as a strong leader, a source of security and stability at a time when everything familiar and safe had been wrenched away in the most painful way possible. The crew would have drawn closer together, formed even tighter bonds and more intimate relationships than befo
re. Metara wasn’t the captain of this ship—she was the head of a family. She might listen to the others’ opinions, but the final decision was hers, and they wouldn’t go against her. This was going to be even more difficult than Leia had anticipated. And it wasn’t as if she had ever thought it would be easy.

  Metara ignored Leia’s questions. “We discovered the local Imperial governor had trading concerns, and we attacked the freighters he owned. After that, we had to leave the area. We came here … because we had heard there were opportunities to strike at Imperial shipping.”

  Leia hadn’t heard of much Imperial shipping in this part of the Mid Rim. If there had been, the Empire would have a larger presence here and the local traders wouldn’t be such easy prey for pirates. Before she could reply, Kifar said, “That merchant you hit is from an agricultural trader. How is that striking at Imperial shipping?”

  He was right, but Leia didn’t need any help, and she didn’t want anyone changing the subject but her. She caught his eye, and he leaned back, his mouth grim.

  Metara frowned, but not at Kifar. It was clear the merchant ship was a sore point, but Leia couldn’t tell why. She didn’t think it was the moral failure that concerned Metara. Metara said, “That is in the nature of an obligation.”

  Leia lifted her brows. “Attacking the ship was an obligation?” She didn’t like the sound of that. “How?”

  A ship’s alarm rang out over the comm system, and everyone flinched. Metara pushed to her feet and moved a few steps away to take a comlink out of her jacket pocket. Leia watched Metara speak quietly and then listen to the answer. Terae and Kelvan watched their captain worriedly. Han leaned over and whispered to Leia, “If it’s that Imperial corvette, we could be in trouble.”

  Sian and Kifar leaned in to listen, Kifar frowning. If it was the corvette, that meant someone who knew their movements was reporting to the Imperials. There was no other way the Imperial ship could have found them again so quickly. Leia started to say, “If it is—”

  Metara turned around and said, “Please excuse me a moment, Your Highness.” She jerked her chin at Terae and Kelvan, who both stood and hurriedly followed Metara as she strode out through the forward door.

  The door sealed behind her, and Han, Kifar, and Sian all drew breath to speak. Leia held up a hand to stop them and glanced at the door into the corridor. Two of the crew members who had escorted them up from the hangar bay still waited out there, facing away from the lounge. She took out her comlink and, keeping her voice very low, said, “Gamble, come in. What’s happening out there?”

  “Princess, another ship just entered the system and is heading for us at attack speed.” Jerell sounded agitated. “It’s not Imperial, but we can’t read the ID and the sensors say it’s heavily armed.”

  “It’s another pirate,” Han said.

  Sian was startled. “How do you know?”

  Han shrugged. “This sector is lousy with pirates. It might be a heavily armed root crop freighter coming to the other trader’s rescue, but the odds are against it.”

  Leia told Jerell, “Get the Gamble out of there. Head toward the station and dock.”

  “But no, Your Highness, what about—”

  Leia cut across the protest. “You can come back for us later. We can’t risk the ship.”

  There was a hesitation at the other end, and Leia knew Jerell was checking with General Willard. “Blast it,” she muttered.

  “You think this pirate is working with the Aegis?” Kifar asked. “I know that out in the Tingel Arm, they say pirates work in big groups, almost fleets.”

  “It’s possible,” Han said, most of his attention on Leia and the comlink.

  Jerell replied, “Yes, Your Highness, we’ll take the ship into the station now.”

  Han sat back, visibly relieved, and Sian muttered, “Finally.”

  Leia agreed. She slipped the comlink back into her pocket as the forward blast door slid open. Kelvan stepped out and said, “Your Highness, Captain Metara has asked if you would please join her on the bridge.”

  Leia stood, and Han, Sian, and Kifar stood with her. Kelvan added, “Just you, please. For security reasons only.”

  Leia hesitated a beat, but Metara had still left them with their weapons. She turned to Han, whose expression suggested he thought they should perhaps use those weapons. She said, firmly, “Wait here, and don’t do anything rash.”

  Han lifted a brow. “Define rash.”

  Leia defined rash as just about everything Han did. “Just wait.”

  She followed Kelvan through some short corridors and onto a raised observation area above the Aegis’s bridge. Terae stood at the railing, watching the activity below with her brow furrowed in worry. Leia spotted Metara seated at the comm station, wearing a headset and having what was obviously a tense conversation with whoever was on the frequency.

  Some of the consoles, including the weapons console, Leia noted, had been replaced with units and boards that didn’t match standard issue. She didn’t think they were repairs; she assumed they were tied into the ship’s augmented systems. They would have had to install controls for the tractor beam and whatever weapons systems had been added.

  From where she stood, she had a good view of the image on one of the sensor holoscreens. The approaching ship had the outline of a large cargo hauler, but gunports had been added both above and below the bridge, and there was extra bulk built up around the module where the cargo doors should have been.

  Leia looked at Kelvan. “What ship is that?”

  Kelvan was distinctly uncomfortable. “It was sent by … our benefactor in this area.”

  “Your benefactor?” Leia repeated. “The benefactor who paid for all this extra equipment, the tractor beam, augmented weapons?”

  Kelvan seemed to be trying not to wince. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Leia had the impression that Kelvan didn’t approve of the arrangement, at least not entirely. She wondered if, despite his misgivings, he hadn’t protested, or if he had and Metara just hadn’t listened to him. Prodding for information, she said, “Not an Imperial, I presume.”

  It was Terae who answered. “No! Of course not.” She hesitated, then added, “The ship is from a pirate fleet. They have a base near here.”

  Leia swore in realization, drawing a startled look from Kelvan. “An organization of pirates supplied you with these altered systems and now you owe them service.” Suddenly Metara’s attitude toward the merchant ship’s cargo made a lot more sense.

  Terae shook her head, reminding Leia of a sulky teenager. “It’s not like that. It’s a business arrangement.”

  Business arrangement, for the love of—“Do these other pirates operate by your principles, or do they sell captured crews into slavery?” Leia managed not to put too much sarcastic emphasis on the word principles. “Or did you not bother to ask?”

  She saw Terae’s expression turn bleak for an instant and thought, So the answer is yes. That was hardly a surprise. Terae said, “We don’t have to act as they do. Once we’ve fulfilled our obligations, we can leave.”

  “Yes, a great many people have said that when accepting ‘arrangements’ with the Empire,” Leia said drily.

  Terae’s whole body stiffened in offense, and even the more level-tempered Kelvan looked away, his hands tightening on the railing. Before either could reply, Metara pulled her headset off and stood so abruptly that the bridge crew stared at her. Leia saw the captain take a deep breath for self-control, saw the tension leave her shoulders and her posture return to confident and calm. Metara was good at this. But then, if she hadn’t been good at it, this crew wouldn’t be here right now.

  Metara crossed the bridge to climb the few steps to the observation area. Though her face was still cool and neutral, Leia could read in the slight tightening at the corners of her eyes that what she had to report wasn’t good news.

  “They told me what that ship is,” Leia said. “What does it want from you?”

  “They wa
nt us to come with them, as we said we would.” Metara projected calm, but the underlying strain was just barely evident. “I told them we hadn’t had time to take the merchant ship’s cargo, and they said they were taking the entire ship. If we don’t comply, I know they’ll fire on us, and we’re outgunned.” She turned to Leia. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I meant to keep my word to you, but I can’t now. And if we let you leave in the pod, or even give you one of our shuttles, they’ll have you before you can reach the station’s perimeter.”

  Leia pressed her lips together to keep from saying the first thing that came to mind. Or the second. Her secure comlink would be out of range as soon as the Aegis left the vicinity of Arnot Station, so she and the others were on their own. She couldn’t afford to alienate Metara now. She settled on, “That merchant ship has injured crew members. And you know what pirates will do with them.”

  For a moment, real anguish flashed across Metara’s face. “I know, and I didn’t mean for this to happen! Believe me, I never intended—” She shook off her distress and an instant later was the calm professional again. She turned back to the railing and ordered, “Thomen, the Wastrel will be tractoring the merchant in and locking onto it. Prepare to follow them into hyperspace.”

  Despite the coolness with which Metara gave the order, she was clearly conflicted, and that gave Leia her first real hope that the Aegis could be saved.

  She pressed the advantage. “Did you tell the pirates that I’m aboard?” If Metara thought there was some sort of “honor among thieves” code among pirates, that they wouldn’t sell Leia and the others out to the Empire at the first opportunity …

  Metara looked honestly startled, as if the thought had never occurred to her. “No, of course not. I can’t avoid going with them now, but once we can leave, I’ll bring you and your people back here, or wherever you can rendezvous with your ship.” She added, “If you don’t trust us, and believe me, I understand why you wouldn’t, I can drop you off at a safe commercial port, where your ship can meet you.”

  “I see. Thank you.” Leia felt the tightness in her chest ease. Metara’s words had the ring of truth; someone who wasn’t planning to release them wouldn’t worry about the details of how to get Leia back to her ship. Metara had felt she had to see Leia in person because, whether she realized it or not, she wanted to justify her behavior to someone who represented the Alderaanian planetary security forces and civil authority that she had once served. Leia didn’t think Metara had gotten what she needed out of their meeting, but it was clear Metara didn’t want her hurt or captured, either.