Free Lords of the Sith by Paul S. Kemp Page B

let’s get you home. A new home.”
    A servicecar took the two of them back to the garret Isval had left earlier in the night. She led Ryiin up the stairs—the drunk was still there—and into the garret.
    “It’s not much,” Isval said, showing the room to her. “But it’s safe and it’s yours.”
    “What do you mean? You’re not staying? Isn’t this your place?”
    “No, it’s yours. It’s paid up through the year.”
    “The year!”
    “There’s food in the cabinets, and a few hundred credits in the drawer by the cooler. That ought to be enough to get you situated.”
    Hearing all that, Ryiin looked unsteady. She reached for a chair, slid into it. Her eyes welled. Isval stripped off her headdress, her clothing,and slipped back into her ordinary shirt, trousers, and weapons belt. Ryiin watched her throughout.
    “I don’t understand this, or you. What are you? Why are you doing this?”
    “I told you,” Isval said, looking in the small mirror. She took a rag, wet it from water in a jug, and wiped off the mask. “I used to be what you are. What you
were
. I just…want to help. I wish someone had helped me.”
    “That’s not what I mean,” Ryiin said. “Why me? I’m just a nobody.”
    “You’re not nobody! You’re not. I picked you…by chance. You were with an Imperial and you two were alone.”
    “So you…look for them? Imperials to kill? Why?”
    Isval looked back at her by way of her reflection in the mirror. “You have to ask?”
    Ryiin could not hold her reflected eyes. “Have you…done that before? Killed Imperials?”
    This time Isval looked back at her own reflection. “You have to ask?”
    Ryiin said nothing, but she shivered.
    “I have a friend,” Isval said. “He wants to save the whole planet. But that’s…too big for me, too much. I just want to save someone, a few people. Maybe you.”
    Ryiin smiled.
    Isval cleared her throat and gathered her things. “Take care of yourself, Ryiin. I don’t normally check back. Dangerous for both of us.”
    “Normally? You’ve done this for other girls?”
    “I have.”
    “Sounds like you’ve already saved a few someones. Can I ask how many?”
    “Many. Doesn’t matter.”
    “And each time you…”
    Mentally, Isval finished the sentence.
Killed someone?
    “I’m going now,” Isval said.
    “Wait, I don’t even know your name.”
    “You don’t need to. Good-bye, Ryiin.”
    “Well, thank you. Thank you so much. Not just for saving me, but for not doing it.”
    Isval stopped in the doorway but didn’t turn. Over her shoulder, she said, “Why do you care so much?”
    Ryiin shook her head, shifted on her seat. “I don’t know, but…it has to stop sometime, doesn’t it? The violence. The killing. Someone has to stop, or it’ll never end. Right? Maybe I’m saving you.” She laughed.
    Isval looked down at her hands but didn’t reply.
    “What is it?” Ryiin asked. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.”
    “You didn’t say anything wrong,” Isval said. “You probably didn’t spend a lot of time in the Hole, though. Good fortune, Ryiin. Don’t go back, all right?”
    “That’s it?” the girl asked.
    “That’s it.” With that, Isval left the garret, another girl lifted out of bondage. Some of those she’d helped in the past had drifted back, but most didn’t. Their new lives weren’t easy, but at least they were no longer slaves.
    She hailed a servicecar and, as the vehicle moved off, Ryiin’s words replayed themselves for her.
    It has to stop sometime, doesn’t it?
    Isval didn’t see how it could stop, not for her. She had the driver take her back to the Octagon, Level Two.
    “You don’t look like a Level Two kind of lady,” he said to her.
    “You’d be surprised,” she answered. She exited the car and headed down, into the deeper dark. She found the nook soon enough, the Imperial still lying there semiconscious, his hand broken, his face purpling from the blow she’d struck him. Spit and