Before - Legends To Skin a Gundark (Trett) --COMPLETE

TO SKIN A GUNDARK

Rendell Trett is a Jedi, sworn to uphold the laws of the Republic. But when the laws are unjust, how can he uphold them and follow the Jedi code? A Padawan can?t do much to change the Galaxy?can he?


This is a bit darker than usual, and shorter, as well. It deals with slavery, and I consider it AU even by my OWN storylines. I think slavery probably ended much earlier, and much differently, and that Trett had nothing to do with it. However, this is the way the story wanted to be told?

A bit thank you to Knight_Dilletante for beta-reading!

 

* * *

?I can?t believe we?re doing this.?

?Padawan.? It was gentle, but it was a rebuke.

Rendell Trett grimaced. He hadn?t meant for his Master to overhear his comment. He would not apologize for it, though. Anger is of the Dark side. He exhaled, trying to release the anger, and made a few course corrections. The small fighter banked and angled towards the hulking transport vessel, which was waiting for them. It looked dirty, a dull, rusty color, shining in the deep space light as if it were crusted with grease. And yet he knew he was projecting his own dislike onto the ship. It wasn?t any different from any other transport. Except for its cargo.

?Approach the docking bay. And slow down!?

?Yes, sir.? The boy carefully maneuvered the small fighter to the bottom of the ship, and looked up at the great bulk looming over them. The protective membrane quivered, and opened. He hesitated, and guided the small ship inside. The membrane closed below them, and he hovered, looking around. To the right, he saw colored lights flashing, guiding him to the bracket where he could secure the ship.

?See it, R3??

There was a chirrup, and he waited while the small droid sent the information from the navibeacon. Now he could gently nudge the fighter into place, settling it into the brackets. Three figures in protective gear moved to clamp it in place, while he finished the landing sequence, and heard a low, weary hum as the small ship powered down.

?Well done, Renn.?

?Well, I didn?t want to have to explain to the Viceroy of Kha?pinn how we got one of his new fighters trashed after he was nice enough to lend it to us.? Trett shifted restlessly, glancing out the window.

?A few more minutes. They need to finish bleeding in the atmosphere.? Myron gestured to a colored bar on the wall. It was pale green, slowly turning blue. Trett tried not to fidget. Being able to breathe would be important. The instant it went from blue to shining white, he hit the control for the hatch, and scrambled over the side, dropping easily to the ground.

Myron sighed. ?You can power off, R3. We won?t need you until we arrive on Ananzial.? He stood, and waited while the ground crew pushed a ladder up to the fighter. Then, shouldering his flight pack, he descended. Trett was already waiting, scowling at the ground crew. Or, rather, at the collars around their necks.

They walked towards a large hatch membrane. Like the other it quivered, then slid back in a spiraling motion, withdrawing to reveal several humanoids, and two Neimodians.

Myron strode up to them, and bowed. ?I am Master Myron of the Jedi Order. This is my Padawan Learner, Rendell Trett. We have been asked to investigate the pirate activity in this sector.?

The Neimodian blinked, and nodded. ?We are?very honored to have you aboard. The pirates are indeed a threat to us.?

?And you would be??? prompted Myron gently.

?Forgive me. I am Dule Orduy, Chief of this mission. This is my second, Ghure Rigor.?

?And your other colleagues?? demanded Trett.

?They are not important, they are servants.?

?Slaves, he means,? mumbled Trett. He?d spotted the collars. He also spotted the look Myron favored him with.

?We would be happy to consult with you regarding your?mission,? continued Orduy.

?Actually, as long as we are here,? said Myron, looking around, ?we may as well have a full inspection. That way we can file it on reaching Ananzial.?

The Neimodians glanced at each other. ?This is?unexpected,? said Orduy. ?We were not anticipating this.?

Myron smiled, managing to look innocent. ?It?s a formality, I?m sure everything is in order. But really, we must.?

Orduy grimaced. ?Very well. Our servants will show you to your quarters, and after you have rested??

?No, that won?t be necessary. We might as well do it now, get it out of the way. We can rest and discuss the pirate attacks afterwards. Let?s start with the detention area, shall we?? Myron strode off down the corridor without waiting for an answer. Trett, with a startled look at their ho

 

Oh, Renata, this story is an unexpected surprise!

I like the way that Rendell is still young enough that he just can't resist saying what he thinks, although at least he mutters and doesn't blurt it out for all to hear. ?Slaves, he means,? mumbled Trett. He?d spotted the collars. He also spotted the look Myron favored him with.

Myron's certainly got his wits about him, hasn't he, announcing an inspection and starting off on it without giving the Neimoidians any chance to clear away the evidence. Good job! Go, go, go!

Can't wait to see how Trett saves the galaxy in his own special way!

 

Oooh! You put it up! Weeheee. This more than makes up for the even scarier banner that just popped up when I moved into the fic boards. I thought the initial one was bad enough. But this! [face_shocked] I'm gonna be sleeping with a nightlight on if I do my standard read-until-2am this week.

I have to laugh even in such a serious tale at And slow down! which is so familiar (my mum still says that) and such a nice insight into the relationship between Myron and Trett.

While I approve of Myron's doing anything that disconcerts these nasty Neimodians, I think I'm with Trett.

In the spirit of the holiday approaching, and because I have been married to a punster for far too long, and, after all, you gave me such a lovely straight line... a byte "You're Welcome" to Renata for letting me beta.

KD <escapes under cover of deafening groans>

 

Good introduction. I liked the descriptions.

 

I'm looking forward to seeing how Trett deals with slavery. He must be young enough to want to fly faster and mutter loud enough that his Master can hear what he has said... It should be interesting to see him get into trouble and then out again.

More??

 

A young Trett? What an unexpected treat

Thank You!

 

Thank you, everyone! I'm glad you like it so far. Trett's about 14, and the "surly hormone" is beginning to kick in.

Welcome, KoS! And hello to any of the Loyal Lurkers out there...

KD, Kitara and anyone out there in SoCalifornia, be safe. I am praying for you all; wish I could send you our rain!

Dianethx, glad you're back. Hope you're doing okay.

* * *

"What are we doing?" Trett's voice was less than a whisper, but he used the Force to project it towards Myron, so that none of the others could hear him.

"Inspecting the slave areas. It's part of the mandate. When you are board a slave ship for the first time, inspect it right away, starting with the detention areas. That way, they don't have time cover up violations and you are more likely to catch them."

Trett rolled his eyes. "We shouldn't have to be inspecting! Slavery is wrong!"

"But it is legal. So we must make sure there are no violations of the law." The apprentice snorted in disbelief, and sulked along a pace behind him.

Slavery was evil. But as far as the Republic was concerned, it was legal. And had been for hundreds of years. And the Jedi served the Republic. So instead of freeing people from bondage, they inspected slave ships to make sure the traders were following regulations. Instead of helping abolitionists in their fight, they tracked down runaways. Jedi were supposed to be the guardians of justice in the Galaxy. The Padawan rolled his eyes. They might be upholding the law. But this didn't seem like justice to him. He had been in the Jedi Order for fourteen years, and had tried desperately to follow the Jedi Code.

But this...was this worth it? Was this what he wanted to spend his life doing? Defending slavery?

"These are the detention areas?" asked Myron, as they entered an area. Trett gazed around the room. Long and narrow, there were openings on either side protected by energy fields, forming small cells. Five on each side, ten on each level, twenty in all.

"Why is it so dark?" he asked.

"We find that keeping it darker helps keep the prisoners calmer," explained Ghure.

"How many are currently being held?" asked Myron.

"Only five," said the Neimodian. Trett followed the two down the row of cells, and peered into one. There was nothing inside but a sort of hammock. The walls were spongy, padded.

"What kind of prisoners do you keep here?" he wondered.

"Slaves who are rebellious, troublemakers." Ghure pointed into one cell. A young human sat perched on the edge of the hammock. He glared when the party passed. A little way down, another one charged at the energy field, throwing himself against it. He fell back, and sprang to his feet. Trett's eyes widened. These men were young, only a few years older than him. They would wear those slave collars for the rest of their lives. What would that be like? To spend your entire life doing hard labor in a factory, or on a farm, with no vacations, no free time, no hobbies, as much education as someone thought you needed, forced to do what someone else told you to do? He stared down at the floor.

He hadn't expected Myron to stop short, and walked into him, then peered around the older man's shoulder. Myron was frowning at a woman being held in the cell. Trett studied her, feeling a pang.

She was older...not quite as old as Myron, but in her thirties, maybe. She was huddled on the hammock, hugging her knees against her chest. And she was rocking back and forth, sobbing.

"Why is she here?" asked Myron softly.

Ghure snorted. "We tried to take her daughter for medical treatment, but she didn't want to release the girl. She tried to attack the handler. So we are going to keep her here for a few days until she's calmed down and learned her lesson."

"How old is the child?"

"Six."

"Six?!" cried Trett. He started forwards, involuntarily. Myron moved, gripping Trett by the wrist as a warning. "Where is she now?" he continued, trying to pull away. How could they take a child away from her mother?

"There are other women in that unit, they will loo

 

Thanks for asking. I'm doing okay but I can't seem to write at all - my mind keeps skittering away. I'm sure it will pass in time...


So Trett is again exposed to slavery. A horrible thing...Slavery was evil. But as far as the Republic was concerned, it was legal. And had been for hundreds of years. And the Jedi served the Republic. So instead of freeing people from bondage, they inspected slave ships to make sure the traders were following regulations. Instead of helping abolitionists in their fight, they tracked down runaways. Jedi were supposed to be the guardians of justice in the Galaxy. Ah, yes. Very similar to what was going on in the 1850's in the States. Finding runaways and returning them to their owners - a very lawful and very ugly thing!
I liked the subtle way you showed just how awful it can be...

 

Slavery is legal? And the Jedi are expected to allow it? I think I'll turn in my lightsabre

My house is safe, I'm about 45minutes to an hour from the worst of the fires. But The sky is orange and the ash is so thick, many are wearing surgical masks. We need to do a rain dance!

 

Wow Mistress_Renata interesting story. So sad with the little boy. Great post.

 

When you are board a slave ship for the first time, inspect it right away, starting with the detention areas. That way, they don't have time cover up violations and you are more likely to catch them. Sounds like Myron speaks from long and bitter experience.

Yes, it does seem like Trett's in the throes of the "surly hormone", the way he's snorting and sulking along behind Myron.

Why didn't the mother want her child taken away for medical treatment? Just what kind of "medical" treatment did the slavers have in mind? I feel kind of sick just imagining what it could be. Go, Trett, go! Find out where the child is and make sure she's okay!

I wonder how Myron can stand this, time and again.

 

Nice how the Force is used for non solid objects as well....Trett's voice was less than a whisper, but he used the Force to project it

"But it is legal. So we must make sure there are no violations of the law."..great connection to the conversation Padme and Shmi had in The Phantom Menace.

The last part is sad indeed

 

Hello, everyone!

Kitara, I am glad to hear you're all right, but please do keep checking in if you still have power and time. This thing is still spreading... I feel so sorry for Happy_Hobbit.

And dianethx pegged the inspiration: I did indeed draw on my knowledge of the Civil War era to do this. I agree (and you will see) that the Jedi aren't exactly thrilled by their role. Knight of Swords pegged the other: Padme's discussion with Shmi. I knew I had smart readers!

Welcome, PattyB! I hope you enjoy this!

And don't worry, Jane, you'll find out about the little girl.

Uh, this is pretty short. But tomorrow's is long.

* * *

It was important to be thorough. Ghure's face twitched as Myron continued to make notations on his datapad.

"Temperature is a bit too warm," the Jedi said, glancing at a sensor.

"72 degrees is the standard for keeping humans!"

"Yes, but the number of people here raises the temperature. The sensor says it's over 85. That's a 500 credit fine." He eyed the area. "Also, it's twenty centimeters too narrow."

Ghure was scowling outright now. "The new standards were instituted after this ship was constructed!" he said.

"Then the ship must be refitted...before you make your return voyage," said Myron. Trett peered over his master's shoulder, blinking in surprise at the size of the fine.

The slaves in the regular holding areas seemed to be in good condition, and healthy, though they looked sullenly at the visitors who passed through. Trett clenched his fists, and felt a hard knot growing in his chest as he passed the children. Some were his age, some were still babies, nestled in the arms of their mothers. Was one the child of the prisoner he'd seen? They seemed okay, but... "I can't do this," he whispered. He was beginning to tremble.

Myron didn't seem to acknowledge this, but he looked at Ghure. "May we see the kitchens and the infirmary now?"

"Yes, this way."

Outside, Myron looked at his apprentice, who was taking deep breaths, desperately trying to calm himself. "Why don't you go to our quarters and unpack?" he said.

Trett swallowed. "I..." He didn't want me to come in the first place. He knows I'll screw it up. "No, I'm okay. I'll... I'll come too."

Myron bent forward, looking into his eyes. "Are you sure?" he said gently, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder.

Trett took a deep breath. "Y-yes. I'm sure."

"All right, then." He stood, and looked at Ghure. "Let's go. The kitchens?"

 

Slavery is LEGAL!??! AND THE JEDI ARE DEFENDING IT????????

I suddenly remembered exactly why I'm a fallen Jedi...


More, please!

 

I suppose if Myron is forced to allow this, he will make it very very costly and dificult to maintain the slave trade. (20cm- *Kitara takes out her micro ruler*) Good for him!

 

I love how you show Myron telling Trett that it is ok to be upset and need to step back (at least I think that is what he thinks he is telling his padawan) and yet Trett is hearing that Myron regrets having brought his padawan along. Even when we speak the same language we so often can't get our exact intention across. It makes one wonder how folks manage without a common language. (Hop hop hop. Sigh, not another one!)

I am in Northern California not Southern so while I thank Mistress_Renata for the concern she sent my way I will send it along with my own down south where it needs to go.

KD

 

Great post. I'd be there with Trett. I couldn't do that, especially as a Jedi. Guardians of peace and justice. This is not justice!

Actually, as for pegging it, I had done some research into the slave trade for my own fic. I bet you knew that people who sheltered runaways could be fined up to $1000 (a fortune in those days) or jailed. And the government allowed legally-sanctioned bounty hunters into free areas to bring the runaways back. A horrible time, a time to be thoroughly ashamed!

Looking forward to more...

 

fine reading

Trett clenched his fists, and felt a hard knot growing in his chest as he passed the children...very powerfull and emotional

 

Oh, I knew you guys were brilliant! You're picking up on all the subtext!

Padme's speech to Shmi led me to think that at one point, slavery must have been legal in the Republic. Which led me to wonder what the Jedi had done about that, since I didn't see them as willing to support that institution. It was an interesting moral dilemma, what does a good person do when the "right" thing to do really ISN'T the right thing to do? Hence, the story. It got a bit deeper than I'd thought...

* * *

Myron was genuinely tired when he had finished. He glanced around the small quarters they had been assigned. Jedi might be welcome guests on most ships, but not on slave vessels. They were a bit too thorough about their inspections. And with good reason. He smiled to himself. He would submit his report, and the Neimodians would have a fifteen thousand credit fine to pay. It would pretty much erase any profit margin they'd been hoping to make. A very satisfying thought.

He glanced over at his apprentice, who was seated on the edge of his bunk. Rendell was doing the deep breathing exercises again. His anger was under control, but it was still there, simmering under the surface. Myron studied the boy covertly, concerned. It was completely understandable, the boy's anger. He could not think of a single Jedi who supported slavery, and he personally dreaded having to do these inspections. But Trett was edging close to hatred, close to the Dark Side. And if they wanted to complete the mission, then he'd better figure out a way to help the boy cope, and fast.

Pretending he hadn't noticed the boy's state of mind, he went to the small flightcase and took out one of his treasured possessions-a small teapot with two matching cups, and a metal canister with compartments of different teas. It was his usual nighttime ritual, one the boy often joined him in. Using a small metal scoop, he put some into the pot, and, after a moment's consideration, added scoops of three different dried herbs. Force sensitives were often more sensitive to the chemical content of foods, which was why some things were forbidden in the Jedi diet, but the calming and relaxing properties of these specific herbs were very much needed now. He topped off the pot with the steaming hot water at the cistern, and stirred it to let it steep. Then he sat back, and looked at his Padawan.

"Well, that's done," he said aloud. "We can report on the state of the ship, at least." Trett glared, but said nothing. His dark eyes, liquid with fury, said enough. Undaunted, Myron pressed on, calmly. "What did you think?"

The young apprentice had to look away, and still said nothing. Myron waited, giving him time.

"What should I think?" Trett demanded finally. He was keeping his voice low, although they were alone. "How nice that several hundred living, sentient beings are enslaved in such comfortable surroundings?" He flushed. "I'm sorry, Master, I don't mean to be rude, but... I don't understand! How can we do this? How can we let this happen?"

Myron sat on the opposite bunk and reached out to take the boy's hands in his. "Now, Padawan, you need to stay calm and listen to what I am going to say. And think about it. Slavery is the greatest evil in the Galaxy, greater, probably than the Sith ever were. And every Jedi should oppose it. To feel anger and disgust is a perfectly understandable reaction. But it is legal. It is permitted by the laws of the Republic. And we are sworn to uphold both justice and the law."

"So we can't do anything about it," mumbled Trett, staring miserably into his lap.

"And there you are wrong," said Myron, rising and going back over to the table. Trett looked at him in bewilderment.

"True," continued the older man, pouring a cup of the tea and tasting it, "it would be satisfying to declare outright that we are going to abolish slavery, and go out there with lightsabers swinging, slashing through cages and bars and collars. But we would be going against our oath. There are radical abolitionists who are doing this,

 

Excellent. A wonderful way to end slavery...by making it unprofitable! Great idea! Unfortunately, it must be horrible to be faced with those who cannot wait, the ones that are trapped in the cycle of slavery!

Keep it up!

 

You blended the theme of slavery very finely into the Starwars universe.

This part got me aware that many Jedi that fall to the Dark Side initially start their downfall from something good.


(For example Anakin wanted to free his mother as Trett wanted the slaves to be freed)

 

Myron is a great master

 

Good posts. I loved the way you showed the padawan's emotions. I could see him holding the cup. Great post.

 

Awsome!