by Revis, Beth
As she headed out of the park, she considered giving a few of her credits to the beggars. She didn’t. And she had no shame about that, either.
A pickpocket had stolen her pouch of protein straws. Jyn didn’t realize it until near the end of the day, when the lights of the station blinked, indicating that twelve standard hours of daytime were up and work shifts should change. In the bustle of people leaving their jobs and heading to their resident cubes, Jyn had been caught up in the crowd. By the time she was free, she found the small pouch of food was missing. Her hands shook as she checked her weapons, her hidden pocket of credits. Nothing but the food was taken; that, at least, was a small blessing.
Still, she had to spend another six credits for more.
The night shift seemed no different from the day shift. The overhead lamps still burned; the businesses stayed open. But the people seemed different. Harder. Jyn started recognizing the same faces over and over in the crowd, and she realized she was being tailed. Three human men. Her nerves were flayed; her body ached with walking in circles around the station. She couldn’t trust herself in a fight, not like this. She couldn’t trust herself to sleep alone, either, not with the three men watching, waiting.
Maybe they just want to rob me, she thought. But she couldn’t be sure.
An inn had rooms for rent, and Jyn passed over more of her meager supply of credits.
Sixty-seven left. But the men didn’t follow her inside the inn, and although she had to share a shower and toilet, the room she would sleep in had a locking door. Jyn collapsed on the pallet on the floor, one hand on the blaster, one hand wrapped around her body. She didn’t take off her clothes.
Jyn awoke early. She stared at the dark ceiling in the cramped room. For the first time since she had arrived on Five Points, it was silent. No voices from next door, no bustle from the streets outside. Utter silence.
Her near-constant inner dialogue—food, shelter, a ship off this place —had quieted as well. Without the noise outside and inside to distract her, an aching sorrow swept into all the hollow places that she wanted to ignore.
Akshaya was gone.
Hadder was gone.
It wasn’t the loneliness that clawed into her now. She knew loneliness; she understood that old wound. It was the deep, infuriating injustice of it all. The impossibility of changing what had happened. The knowledge that all she had felt for Hadder had amounted to…
Nothing.
Jyn curled up on her bed, pulling her knees to her chin, as if compressing her body would lessen the emptiness inside her. A sob burst out of her mouth, and she swallowed air, and then she was gasping, her shoulders shaking, desperate for breath. It felt as if her ribs had collapsed. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She could only sob, muffling her sorrow with the musty-smelling pillow as she rocked back and forth, weeping until she fell back asleep, exhausted from grief.
The innkeeper walked up and down the hall of rooms, banging on the doors with a heavy stick. Time to go.
Jyn scarfed down a breakfast of bread that was offered to all the nightly guests. It wasn’t much—mealy and dry. But it was something.
“Stay another night?” the innkeeper said, the loose skin of her arms slapping against her torso as she walked among her lingering guests. “I give discounts.”
She paused by Jyn. “Need a place, sweetheart?” she said in her low, gravely voice. Jyn wondered what her species was; she had never seen anyone like the innkeeper. Short and skinny but with loose skin all over and comically large feet.
Jyn shook her head. She needed to figure out where she could sleep, but she couldn’t afford to continue sleeping there. And she didn’t want to guess in what ways the innkeeper would make her pay her bills when the money ran out.
Jyn knew if worse came to worst, she could sell something. The only things of value she had were the necklace her mother had given her and her weapons. She needed the weapons.
Her hand went to her neck, fingering the leather cord the kyber crystal hung from.
The innkeeper started clearing away the bread dishes and empty cups, her scowl a clear indication that it was time to move on. Jyn kept her eyes on the HoloNet display, pretending not to notice, relishing the chance to just sit and think. Her gaze drifted to the bottom of the viewscreen, to the running ticker of local news. There didn’t seem to be that much. An advertisement for a special deal on credits at one of the gambling halls. An announcement for a stormtrooper formation exhibition happening in three standard days. Notices of jobs—none of which Jyn was qualified for. She started to look away, but then she noticed a name she knew.
Ponta, report to main processing unit on level TJ56.
“Time to go, sweetheart,” the old woman who ran the inn said, plunking down the dirty dishes she’d been carrying.
“Yeah,” Jyn said absently, looking past the woman’s shoulder.
“’Lest you pay me for another night, get out,” the innkeeper said, her voice sterner.
“I just want to read—”
“Ain’t free. Go.” There was steel in the old woman’s voice. The ticker display had cycled around and was showing the advertisement again; it would be several minutes before Jyn could get back to the name Ponta.
The woman pushed Jyn out of the chair. “Fine!” Jyn roared. “I’m leaving.”
Jyn stormed out, her mind churning. Someone named Ponta was to report to the main processing unit, where everyone who docked at the station checked in.
She felt her heart thudding with hope. Akshaya or Hadder—maybe both—was still alive.
Jyn took the lift to level TJ56. There was a line at the main processing unit, despite four droids working. Jyn stood to the side, scanning the crowd for Akshaya’s bright scarf or Hadder’s black hair. Her eyes darted from person to person, hope surging inside her with every blink. Ponta…someone named Ponta was going to report to this desk.
After nearly an hour had gone by, Jyn’s hope was turning to anxiety. Maybe the ticker had given a specific time and Jyn hadn’t noticed it? Maybe she was at the wrong desk.
“Miss?”
Jyn’s blood turned to ice as she faced the Imperial officer looking down at her. Tall and thin, the female officer had a cold look in her eyes. Her coarse black hair had been carefully braided and bound in a bun at the base of her neck, and her dark skin blended with the black uniform.
“Yes?” Jyn asked, forcing her eyes to look innocent, her hands to stay away from her weapons.
“I couldn’t help noticing you’ve been lingering here. Are you waiting for someone?”
“Um…” Honesty was probably the best option; the request that a person named Ponta show up at the desk was public, so it wouldn’t look strange for Jyn to say it. “I saw on the HoloNet that Ponta was supposed to report here?”
The Imperial officer’s face lit up. “Tanith Ponta? Is that you?”
And every single hope Jyn had for Hadder and Akshaya’s return crashed. She’d forgotten that the name she’d given when she’d landed was theirs. The processing unit had been looking for her.
“Yes,” Jyn said, wary but too tired to think of a lie.
“How fortuitous,” the officer said.
Jyn shot her a questioning look.
“Because I was the one requesting your presence.” The officer swept her arm out, and Jyn had no choice but to follow her to a private office down the hall.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chanted to herself. The Empire had simply posted her pseudonym, and she’d shown up . Saw would be apoplectic to see how easily she’d done the Empire’s bidding.
The office the Imperial took Jyn to was large, and furthermore, it had a window looking out at the expanse of space. A bright glowing star was perfectly framed in the square, and Jyn suspected it was actually one of the five planets in the system.
“Yes, I’m lucky,” the officer said, following Jyn’s gaze. “I understand why the main level of the station doesn’t have portholes, of course, but it lower
s morale, don’t you think?”
Jyn shrugged in a noncommittal way.
“Tanith Ponta…” the officer said, reading the datapad in front of her. “I’m Commander Lucka Solange.”
“Why am I here?” Jyn asked. She felt stupid, and that made her angry. Also, she was talking to an Imperial officer, something that always made her want to punch things.
“You arrived on a planet hopper, Ponta Two , yes?”
Jyn nodded, one short, sharp dip of her head. No use denying it. It was public record.
“That ship was labeled irredeemable and reclassified as scrap. Before scrapped ships are processed, I inspect them. That is part of my duties here on this station.”
“I didn’t know the Empire had official duties here,” Jyn said. Also true. If she had known, she never would have come.
“The Empire,” the commander said, “is everywhere.”
Jyn had no reply to that.
“In my inspection of the remains of your ship, I couldn’t help discovering that some elements were not exactly authentic ,” Commander Solange continued. “A less forgiving person might even label your ship’s permissions and identification codes as forgery.”
Jyn waited, fear coiling around her anger.
“Can you tell me who did these…alterations?” Commander Solange said, finally sitting down in the chair across from Jyn.
“No.” Jyn bit off the word. The less she said, the better.
Commander Solange narrowed her eyes. “That is indeed a shame,” she said. “You see, I have…use for such a person and her skills. But if you cannot help me, I’ll be forced to arrest you for possession of forged documents.”
Jyn’s head spun. Commander Solange held a communicator but hadn’t turned it on. She was waiting. She knew.
“And if it was me?” Jyn asked.
“Then I would be happy to send the ship on to the scrappers and conveniently forget about what I saw on board.”
“For what price?” Jyn asked. There was always a price.
Commander Solange leaned over her desk, evaluating Jyn. “I saw the recording of your arrival,” she said finally. “I have to say, I had my suspicions that you were skilled enough to have done the forgery. It’s very good. Some bits were outdated, of course—the Empire is on to you rogues—but it was very good. And you seem young.”
It took Jyn a moment to remember how old she was, and she was surprised to realize that she’d missed a birthday. Eighteen years. Keeping track of her age seemed like such a simple thing, but she’d legitimately forgotten about it.
“But I’ve been following you. No, not in person,” Commander Solange waved her hand when Jyn looked startled. “I’ve been watching the feeds from the camera security droids. You know how to handle yourself. You seem…scrappy enough to handle the job I need you to do.”
“What is it?” Jyn asked, impatient. She didn’t like the way this commander talked, as if each word she spoke needed to be tasted and relished and a sentence wasn’t complete without dropping subtle emphasis.
Commander Solange stood up and moved over to her window, staring out into space. “I hate it here,” she finally said, more emotion in those four words than in anything else she’d said. “The people are crude savages, no one of any importance comes to this station, and it’s boring .” She turned around, meeting Jyn’s eyes. “So boring, in fact, that one is reduced to visiting the gambling halls.”
Jyn leaned back in her chair. The picture was becoming clearer now.
“I’ve fallen into a spot of trouble. I’m in a bit too deep.”
“How deep?” Jyn asked.
The commander said a number that made Jyn’s eyes go wide.
“Exactly,” Commander Solange continued. “Too deep for me to work my way out. If I don’t pay off my debts, the gambling lord will start extorting me. Or he’ll report my debts to my supervisors. I very much do not want a few misspent months on this hellish station to ruin my entire career.” Her voice grew angrier, and by the time she finished, she was actually snarling.
Ah, there it is, thought Jyn. This is what makes her an Imperial.
“I don’t see how I can help you,” Jyn said.
Commander Solange turned to her desk, ripping open a drawer and dumping a handful of credits on the surface. Jyn reached out and picked one of them up. It was as long as her finger and three times as wide, the front decorated with the words PSO’S PALACE and a silhouette of a Twi’lek dancing.
“The gambling halls all use their own currency. I don’t know why,” Commander Solange said, waving her hand dismissively.
Jyn could guess why. It was easier to spend these credits, which looked almost like toys, than real credits. And it was probably a pain to cash out, meaning it’d be simpler to stay in one gambling hall for a night than to move around to multiple ones.
But then it hit Jyn what Commander Solange was asking her to do. “You want me to forge credits?”
The commander nodded.
“Counterfeiting these would be as difficult as counterfeiting real credits,” Jyn said, analyzing the gambling hall chip.
“Not really,” Commander Solange said. “There is less security on one of these. The Empire is slightly better at protecting its funds.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but Jyn had to admit that she was right.
“If I’m caught, the gambling lord will—”
“I’ll protect you,” Commander Solange said, but they both knew that wasn’t true. If Jyn was caught, she’d be on her own.
“It’s too obvious if you just show up with a pile of chips and pay off your debt,” Jyn said, thinking aloud.
“So make me a portion of them, and I’ll win my way out of debt.” Commander Solange’s voice was impatient. She leaned over her desk again, closer to Jyn this time. “Will you do it?”
Jyn’s hand tightened around the chip. “I’ll need supplies,” she said. “And payment.”
“Clearing your name of possession of forged documents is payment enough.” Commander Solange narrowed her eyes.
“No, it’s not,” Jyn said. “I want a thousand credits.”
“A thousand?” Commander Solange laughed.
“That’s a fraction of your debt. A fraction of what I’ll be counterfeiting for you. A thousand.”
“Fine.” Commander Solange waved her hand again. “But do it quickly.”
“I also need a place to work.” Jyn spoke in a rush. She was pressing her luck, and she knew it.
Commander Solange cocked her head. “You can work here. I have business on Uchinao; I will be gone for a week. You may use my office. There’s a suite there that’s stocked with whatever you might need. We have a deal?”
Jyn’s mouth slid into a smile. “Deal,” she said, shaking the hand of the Imperial officer.
It was little wonder why Commander Solange had been assigned to Five Points station. There was nothing there that the Empire wanted, so it didn’t matter that she was utterly incompetent at her job.
Once Commander Solange had set Jyn up with all the supplies she needed, she left, stating clearly when she’d be back and that all droids and other officers had been banned from her office. As long as Jyn was quiet, she’d be fine. Jyn waited several hours and immediately turned to Commander Solange’s databanks. She was no slicer, but it was easy to break through the commander’s meager protections and scan the least secure files. She flashed everything to a portable datapad she stole from the commander’s office. Maybe Commander Solange had thought that Jyn’s forgery skills were outdated, but Jyn had just downloaded clearance codes for any ship she wanted to steal in the future.
It’d be easier to get paid than to steal a ship, so Jyn focused on the task at hand. Forging the Pso’s Palace credit chips didn’t prove as difficult as she’d feared. A replicating holograph provided her with the casing image, and while the internal security of the chips was complicated, it was nothing that a little patience couldn’t solve. Jyn created a pile of Pso’s Palace credit chips
, all of varying amounts, and even scuffed them up to make them look older and used.
As with any counterfeit, a close examination of the credit chips would prove these were false. But Jyn had had Commander Solange buy up a couple thousand legitimate chips, and when she mixed them together, it was impossible to tell which were real and which were not by sight or scan.
When Commander Solange returned, the chips were done. “Oh,” she breathed. “These are marvelous.”
“Remember the plan,” Jyn said. It was Commander Solange’s own strategy, but she didn’t seem eager to follow through. “Use these to win a little. Stick to games of skill, like sabacc, and not just chance. The wheel of fate never plays outside the house’s favor.”
Commander Solange nodded, but she was distracted, her eyes glued to the credit chips.
“A little at a time,” Jyn reminded her. “Don’t blow it all at once.”
“If I do, you can just make more,” Commander Solange said.
“That’s a bad idea,” Jyn snapped back, but she wasn’t sure the commander heard her. Flood the gambling hall with fake chips, they were sure to be caught. The whole scam relied on Commander Solange winning in a slow and steady way.
“Right, well,” Jyn checked her own credits—real, Imperial credit chips. Commander Solange had paid her a thousand credits, as promised. “I’m gone.”
“Not off the station,” Commander Solange called.
“What?” Jyn whirled around. She’d intended to use the credits to buy passage on a ship—any ship.
“At least for a few standard weeks,” Commander Solange continued. “I’ve banned your scandocs from leaving Five Points, and I’ve posted your picture in case you try to bypass that. Must be sure this works and that I have no future use of you.” She tossed Jyn a communicator. “Just in case.”
Jyn ground her teeth. There was no point arguing. This was what you got when you dealt with the Empire.
