Private Dust and Fire: Labor Dispute Escalation

[Cerrik]

The shuttle shuddered slightly as it entered the atmosphere of a mineral-rich world known more for its brutal weather and backbreaking labor than anything resembling diplomacy. The clouds outside the viewport swirled in rust-colored storms, choking the sky with dust from the vast mining pits below. It wasn't the sort of place one came willingly.

Cerrik sat the table inside his ship, arms tucked into the sleeves of his robe, silent as the briefing replayed in his mind: escalating tensions between the mining consortium and the labor guild, a week-long strike that had halted production, and now, a hostage situation. The word "negotiation" had already become a polite fiction. Someone had panicked, and the request for Jedi intervention had been made.

He glanced sideways at his companion, Perail, the hum of the engines filling the space between them. He was having her focus her mind on completing a puzzle box using only the Force while the ship made its descent.

Below, the central colony complex came into view—a scatter of prefabricated structures hunched against the wind, ringed by barren terrain and distant lights from automated mining rigs. Smoke curled lazily from one of the eastern sectors, too far from the main refineries to be an accident.

Cerrik exhaled slowly. "Let's hope they're still willing to talk."

The shuttle touched down with a hydraulic hiss, and the landing ramp extended. Blaster turrets tracked their descent, and a nervous-looking official awaited them at the base, flanked by security personnel far too green for the situation at hand.

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

During their journey, Perail was deeply engrossed in the puzzle her teacher had given her. She loved those things, they were fascinating. They were not to be thought through, but to be felt out. That, she had learnt, was the crux of what was called Force-sensitivity: some people had a special talent that allowed them to know things without seeing them, and to move things without touching them. It also came with an uncanny talent to be in the right place at the right time. It all made a lot of sense to Perail. Even when things had gone wrong for her, somehow everything that had happened had led up to this. If she had done any of a myriad of things differently, things would have taken a different path and she wouldn't have ended up here—except maybe she would, only in a different way! The seemingly accidental being actually inevitable was sort of the point.

The puzzle was an exercise in carefully listening to one's own intuition. You really had to study yourself, not the object. Staring at it intently didn't help. In fact, you could even keep your eyes closed. From the outside, it was a closed box, you couldn't see the mechanism inside, and you couldn't touch it, either. But somehow, if you listened to your hunches, you could apply an impulse—it was really more imagining than applying, or rather, the line between the two had become very blurry—in the right place to transition the mechanism to its next state, and if you did it right many times in the row, you got a satisfying click that said you'd solved it.

—​

The two Jedi stood inside their shuttle, waiting for the ramp to lower and open the way outside.

"Let's hope they're still willing to talk."

"I sense much agitation, Master. They might talk too much." Perail looked at her master with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She seemed to be in good spirits and quite unaffected by the tense atmosphere outside the ship that was already palpable to the Jedi.

The steam cleared and the pair walked down to the landing pad. Perail's remark proved prophetic: as soon as the Jedi came into view of those gathered, two voices broke loose, shouting all over each other. They were being met by a stern-looking blonde woman in a dark grey uniform, Kasinos Corporation representative Priscilla Torval, and a red-haired, bearded man in what looked like workman's clothes, except those clothes had clearly never seen the inside of a mine—the negotiator on behalf of the miner's union, Arik Denvar.

They both began to talk at the same time, introducing themselves so that Perail understood neither of their names. The two representatives, on edge, noticed that they were talking over each other and, neither being used to backing down or recognising the other's authority, the talking turned to shouting as they were both vying for the Jedi's attention.

"—does not condone—"

"—absolute outrage! Taking hostages—"

"—decades of exploitation! You think they'd resort to this if the corporation hadn't—"

The security guards behind the pair looked on in helpless silence.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

He made no immediate move to quiet the shouting—he simply observed, head slightly tilted. Then, he raised a single hand. No aggression. No command. Just a calm gesture, patient and deliberate.

"Peace," Cerrik said softly, his voice smooth and steady, yet it cut through the clamor like a blade of stillness. "You've both come here to be heard. So let's begin by listening."

He stepped forward, placing himself evenly between Priscilla and Arik, offering a faint, diplomatic smile that didn't quite touch his eyes. He looked to Priscilla first. "One voice at a time. You'll each speak. You'll each be heard. And we'll move forward from there."

Then to Arik. "Agreed?"

Cerrik's tone held no threat, no judgment—just the weight of a man accustomed to tension. "Shall we move this inside where we can sit down and discuss?" With that, he turned on his heels and started heading inside, motioning for Perail to follow.

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

Perail watched with a sense of wonder as Cerrik, in his characteristic manner, made everyone calm down and stop by way of his mere presence. It was almost uncanny. It probably required being as tall as he was, considered Perail with some disappointment.

There was a pause.

"Very well."

"Agreed."

Priscilla was quick on her feet to follow Cerrik and, indeed, overtake him promptly. It was, after all, the corporation's building, and she had a need to file like she was leading everyone there. Perail pulled her cloak around herself and followed.

The office building they entered was by no means constructed for representational purposes, and not for the comfort of the clerks, either. It was distinctly uninspiring—except if you were lucky enough to have a desk by the window that let you overlook the mountains, although again the landscape was marred by the conspicuous traces of the mining operation—gaping openings in the ground, approached by heavy machinery on wide dirt roads winding through the forest. If you were lower down, chances were you got to see more of the town, which was essentially just the workers' accommodation, or the processing facility near the mine itself. Whether the view of the landing pad for heavy transports, and the occasional landings and take-offs of the huge cargo barges, inspired you probably depended very much on your disposition.

As they walked, Perail leaned towards her master and stretched up as high as she could to ask quietly: "How do you do that, Master? Make them shut up..."

The security guards did not follow them into the building after Priscilla unlocked the door with her key card. She led them to what was obviously not her own office, but an unadorned meeting room on one of the upper floors. It had a large table in it, and a holoprojector at one end.

"Please, take a seat."

"You first", said Perail, pointing at Priscilla. She seemed to see it as her prerogative to perform a kind of secretarial function here. The woman gave her a slightly contemptuous smile.

"Vice President Priscilla Torval. I represent the Kasinos Corporation in this negotiation to make sure both corporate and personnel interests are met."

The miners' representative was about to cut in with an objection to this framing, but in the end just grunted.

"But right now we have an urgent hostage situation on our hands. The workers have invaded an office building and attempted to trap management. I escaped, but they're still holding Director Rend who normally runs operations here. We've tried to negotiate with them—they say they want Arik's conditions met. Arik knows very well that what he's asking for is not feasible and would mean the company has to close the operation here. And according to him, the union disavows the hostage takers and has no control over them. This is utter madness! Where is the good faith here?"

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

"A strong, calm presence can be a beacon to others, like a moth to a flame." He whispered back to Perail.

Cerrik's expression remained unreadable, composed in that effortlessly placid way of his. He moved like still water, taking a seat and only speaking once the silence settled like dust on the table.

"I believe good faith," he began, voice even and low like the rumble of distant thunder, "is often the first casualty when people feel unheard for too long."

He folded his hands on the table. "You say Arik knows his demands are unfeasible. That may be true. But desperation can lead people to demand the impossible—not out of ignorance, but because they see no better leverage." His gaze drifted to the mountains barely visible through the window—scarred, worked over, reshaped.

Then, calmly, without judgment, he returned his attention to Priscilla.

"Tell me: What has Arik asked for, exactly?"

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

The displeasure in Priscilla's reaction to the Cerrik's question was obvious even if she tried to conceal it in her instinctively professional way. She did not appreciate the turn the conversation had taken. In the best case, she believed it to be irrelevant and a waste of time—in the worst case, she thought it was a sign of the Jedi taking a side.

"He's asking for a 53 percent increase in wages over five years and a moratorium for 10 years on the introduction of droids and autonomous vehicles or anything with 'agentic capacity' into the operations, as well as an increase of 67 percent in the coverage of job accident insurance. That wage increase would have us running at a loss within seventeen months, and we would be unable to make investments in both efficiency and safety, which would make us uncompetitive regardless. It also runs directly counter to his stated aim of worker safety, as droids would be well-placed to perform the most dangerous functions."

She sighed with annoyance.

"Look, he knows enough about our numbers to know we can't grant that. I don't even blame him—he's negotiating. Don't mistake me, my job really is to find a solution that works for everyone. I'm not here to convince the union that everyone needs to continue as is. But it seems the union doesn't even have its own people under control. How can they claim to even be a legitimate negotiation partner? This isn't serious. We're not going to continue negotiating without knowing who is in charge and who represents whom—and we're not continuing this negotiation until this hostage situation is resolved, either, because this is outrageous. What would you have us do"—here she turned to Arik—"hire a security contractor and get everyone involved shot?"

Arik crossed his arms and looked displeased at what he considered her posturing, but he said nothing. His eyes were soon enough on the Jedi, studying him intently and awaiting his reaction.

Perail, too, looked to her master. This all went a bit over her head.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik did not respond right away. He let the silence stretch just long enough to cool the air a few degrees, his eyes steady on Priscilla without accusation or approval—just that deliberate calm of someone who intended to listen first.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but firm, with a trace of empathy carefully woven in.

"You're right that no progress can be made in the shadow of a hostage situation. No one here should feel forced into decisions under duress—least of all decisions that could shape lives for years to come. I don't believe you're posturing. I hear your frustration. The terms as they stand may be unworkable, and the danger posed by escalating tensions isn't something you should be expected to tolerate without a response."

He glanced briefly to Perail, then back to Priscilla, his tone even and considered. "But there's a reason the Jedi were asked to observe. Because there's more at stake here than numbers. And because peace, even industrial peace, can't come from just one side backing down."

He tilted his head slightly, thoughtfully. "What if, for now, we took a step back from proposals and counterproposals? Focus instead on defining some shared truths. Agree on who speaks for whom. Agree that hostages cannot be a tool of negotiation. If we can begin there, maybe we can return to the rest with fewer assumptions and more clarity."

His hands folded in front of him, patient as stone. "You both want a stable, safe future. The path to that starts with restoring trust—even if only a sliver at a time."

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

"I'm not resuming a negotiation while some of our personnel are being illegally deprived of their freedom!", protested Priscilla.

"Now look here", interjected Arik gruffly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and visibly miffed about the fact that he had not actually been invited into the conversation in all this time. "I can't make the guys back off. I told you that their actions are not condoned by the union. That's the only reason I agreed to having you brought into this in the first place. What the kriff am I supposed to do?"

Perail watched him intently as he spoke. It seemed to her that he was being truthful. When he had finished, she looked at her master to gauge his reaction.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik glanced thoughtfully at Arik, his calm demeanor unshaken by the rising tension in the room. His voice was steady and measured as he spoke, his words carrying a quiet authority.

"Is there any way we can get in contact with the ones who have taken the hostages? If we can settle that issue, then it seems negotiations can fully start between you two." His words were directed to both Priscilla and Arik.

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

"You'll have to go to the locked-up complex in person. I will leave it in your hands. I trust that you will make sure nobody dies—you can see how that would make things very difficult. But the corporation will press charges on those responsible. I won't even get into how the strike is not legal to begin with, but this..."

Arik was clearly uncomfortable with this, but couldn't find what to say. He was clearly sympathetic to the hostage takers, but thought they were misguided nonetheless. "I'd also like to know who instigated this, because it isn't making my job any easier!"

"I'll have someone show you the way."

As the two Jedi followed a security officer who led them through the extensive premises, Perail sank into thought. After a while, she turned to her master again. "Now we'll have the opposite problem. We'll need to make them talk", she remarked.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik walked in measured silence for a moment, the rhythm of his steps matching the pulse of thought behind his eyes. He had noticed the way Arik's jaw had tightened, the way his arms remained crossed even as he reluctantly agreed. That discomfort wasn't just about the situation—it was personal. A man torn between principle and pressure.

He offered a faint nod, hands clasped behind his back as he walked beside her, eyes scanning the route ahead with passive alertness. "We will," he agreed softly. "But not by force."

He glanced at Perail, his voice low and composed. "People who act out like this usually feel unheard. Cornered. If we listen first, truly listen, they might realize we're not just another voice telling them what to do."

A pause.

"Then we can guide the conversation where it needs to go. Patience, observation... and the right questions. That's how we'll reach them."

He looked forward again, but his tone remained thoughtful. "It's not always about having the power to stop someone. Sometimes it's about giving them a moment where they can stop themselves."

Another beat passed before he added, almost as an afterthought, "You learn a lot more when you stop trying to control the outcome. Trust the current, not the rock trying to resist it."

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

They were led back outside and a way through the premises. They left the paved area and continued on moist, reddish dirt. Everything was eerily quiet—the giant vehicles and transportation belts normally used to haul ore were standing still, as were the furnaces of the smelters. The economic damage from the entire production line having been wound down several days ago must already be enormous.

Say what you would about Priscilla, apparently she had a soul—she could have taken this whole incident as a pretext to crack down, bring in more security, have the hostage takers executed, and the strikers removed and replaced by workers from off-world. Or maybe she didn't have a soul, but merely a calculator—maybe the whole ordeal would simply have been too outrageously expensive. Who could know with these things.

"What do you think about those two we just spoke to, Master?" asked Perail quietly. She was, by now, accustomed to her Master's quiet posture, and had, after growing to be at ease with him, developed a habit of compensating for it by shamelessly pestering him with questions.

They were led to another, nondescript building. The security guard explained that the door had been locked, as well as the large gates that led to a machine hangar on the other side. The door panel, however, provided communications to the inside and they surely had someone posted to monitor them. They didn't know exactly what kind of weapons the strikers had, clearly they had somehow—nobody knew how, at this stage—got hold of a few crates, but they had no training in any event. The building was surely not secured in anything like a militarily sound manner, but their security troupe was also not equipped to assault it in a militarily sound manner, especially not in light of a hostage situation. That didn't mean that the two Jedi might not find a way to enter undetected if they really wanted to.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik glanced at the locked door, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. His arms were folded, and he seemed, as always, more attuned to the weight in the air than the facts being relayed. Finally, at Perail's question, he spoke—softly, but with that grounded steadiness she had come to rely on.

"They're afraid," he said. "But not desperate. There's a line they don't want to cross. That's important."

He looked over the reddish dirt, then toward the silent hangar gates, the massive machinery frozen in place like sleeping giants. His voice was thoughtful, almost gentle. "Fear can push people to violence. But if we move carefully, we might give them a way out they can live with."

He glanced at her, a faint smile playing on the edge of his lips. "You already see that, though. You wouldn't ask if you didn't."

He stepped closer to the door panel and activated it, trying to communicate to whomever is inside. "Greetings. I am Cerrik, Jedi Master from the Order. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

There were several moments of silence, then a slight crackling as the line came alive. The voice on the other side was gruff, the speaker was wary and sounded like he was under a lot of stress: "This is Renn Kadrel. Head of maintenance, sector three." He paused for a moment, then felt the need to assert himself: "I speak for the workers inside."

It seemed that he was not alone—through the static of the low-quality connection, the sound of hushed voices arguing in the background could still be heard.

The speaker paused again, perhaps conferring with those behind him.

"We have neither quarrel nor business with your Order. This is between us and Kasinos", he finally asserted, clearly suspicious of the Jedi's intention.

Perail felt a bit lost and found herself reduced to just standing there, being pretty—likely for no-one's benefit at all, as no camera was to be made out on the panel. The instinct to mediate, to hear everyone's needs and feelings, was one she possessed, but this situation was very much above her pay grade, it was in a wholly different world from the one she had grown up in—tenser, and with higher stakes. She found herself confused by it and didn't know who was right. That irked her even as she recalled her master's admonishment that taking sides was exactly not what they were supposed to do, at least at the outset.

She was glad that she could, as it were, hide behind him.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik waited, letting the silence stretch just a moment longer after Renn Kadrel finished speaking. It was an old habit of his—to let people hear the weight of their own words settle before he answered. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, almost disarmingly so.

"You have no quarrel with us," Cerrik agreed. "And we have no intention of making this our quarrel. We're not here to take sides." He let that sit a moment, steady as a stone in a river, before continuing.

"We're here because lives are at stake. That's all." His tone was light, but there was a gravity under it, like the soft rumble before a quake. "Yours. The hostages. Everyone caught in the middle."

He glanced to Perail, offering her a brief, almost imperceptible nod—small encouragement, a reminder she wasn't invisible just because the situation felt bigger than her.

"If you're willing," Cerrik said, turning his attention back to the panel, "we'd like to listen. No tricks, no pushing. Just... hear what you have to say. So no one has to get hurt who doesn't have to."

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

There was some murmuring in the background. The Jedi could make out some words from a younger speaker, something about 'standing our ground' and 'showing them we're serious'. There was a response that sounded more like grunting than speech.

Eventually, Kadrel could be heard again. "Right, listen up. First, those security folks that led you here - they feth right off." The man was not sophisticated, but he wasn't stupid, and he was used to managing workers to deal with tasks and problems. He has no difficulty structuring a situation, enumerating what needed to be done, and determining who was to do it. "Second, none of your Jedi weapons. Go back a few steps, put them on the ground so we can see 'em from the windows. Don't bother with a sniper, we ain't stupid. Third, when you come in, you're gonna find some blasters aimed at your person. 'S nothing personal."

Perail looked up the façade of the building—there were indeed windows on the floors above them, but she couldn't see them well from this angle. She looked at her master. She didn't speak, but it was clear what she was thinking, and asking with her eyes. We're doing this, right?

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik met Perail's eyes, and for a moment, it was like the noise from the panel and the murmuring from behind it didn't exist. He gave her the smallest, surest of smiles—the kind he reserved for moments when doubt tried to creep in.

Without needing to say it aloud, he answered her with a slow nod: Trust the Force. Trust yourself. Then he turned back toward the panel and spoke, voice calm, carrying no challenge, no resentment. "Alright, Kadrel. We'll follow your lead."

Cerrik unhooked his lightsaber from his belt—not with the solemnity of surrender, but with the quiet practicality of someone setting down a tool before walking into a forge. He stepped back a few paces, crouched smoothly, and placed the weapon down on the reddish dirt where it could be seen. Cerrik then motioned for the personael that escorted them to leave the area. "My apprentice and I can handle it from here."

Perail Staite