“What someone should do,” Fingers continued, unaware that her conversation was being so closely regarded, “is investigate a little more. I mean, there are so many unusual animals there. You’d think somebody would want to know.”
“She’s got a good point,” Dusque told Tendau. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, because he was afraid he knew where her interest was going to lead.
“If some of the animals could be sampled and it turned out that they were originally indigenous to another planet, it might help narrow down just who did colonize the place,” she finished.
“It might,” Tendau agreed tentatively. “But by the same logic, it might increase the speculation, as well.”
“Even conflicting data has value,” Dusque argued.
Tendau was torn. He was glad she was starting to act more like her old self. Still, the gleam in her gray eyes was making him nervous. Although Tendau did not know the Zabrak handler, the woman looked capable enough. If she had lost two fingers trying to handle one, there was no telling what might happen to Dusque, with no experience tangling with borgle bats.
“All data is valuable,” he said. “All right, just what do you have in mind?”
“Well,” she began with an innocent tilt of her head, “as long as we’re already here, I don’t see why we couldn’t look into this a little more ourselves.”
Tendau sighed inwardly. It was as he expected. “The only issue, as I see it, is that we don’t have the opportunity to get our superiors to approve it. This idea of yours doesn’t have the sanctioning of the Empire.”
He saw Dusque straighten her back almost imperceptibly at his concerns. She had resumed her wary stance, and he wondered again what had transpired this evening to cause her to become so distrustful of him.
“Since when do you care so much about Imperial endorsement?” she snapped, and folded her arms. “Are you afraid someone is watching us?” Her voice had dropped, and she cast a quick eye around the room.
“You know me better than that,” he replied.
Dusque dropped her stern gaze as the Ithorian’s words sank in.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “I guess I’m just surprised that you could walk away from a mission that has this potential for discovery. Doesn’t seem like you.”
“Walk is exactly the point, Dusque. You know how painful it can be for me to move around planetside,” he explained. “Even here, where it is somewhat civilized, I have had some discomfort. Those two we were eavesdropping on mentioned that Rori was relatively inhospitable. I suspect that I will have some difficulty moving around there. I am afraid I would slow you down.”
“I could go alone,” Dusque said. “I have to go,” she added more intensely. “I have to get away from … all these people. I need—I don’t know, some space to think, I guess.” For a moment it seemed as if she were going to say more, but then she just clammed up. She looked unhappy.
“Even if I were to agree to this,” Tendau said slowly, “we only have enough funds to pay for our lodging here and transport back to the labs.”
Even as he threw up another excuse to dissuade Dusque, he watched as one corner of her mouth slowly curved upward. He knew that grin only too well. She always looked that way when she trumped one of their supervisors. She reached into her trouser pockets and pulled out handfuls of chips, which she promptly dumped onto the table. They lay there like a spotted rainbow.
“I think that’ll cover it,” she said gleefully.
Tendau tilted his curved neck and knew he had lost. She was determined to go, and if he didn’t go with her, he was certain she would attempt it on her own. He shook his head at her, but found a small chuckle inside.
Dusque leaned back in her chair and slowly rolled her head from one side to the other. Even over the bar chatter, Tendau could hear the joints in her neck crack several times. He worried even more about what it was that was weighing on her so heavily. It looked to him as if the small trip would be the quickest way for him to find out.
“I just want to get out of here,” she added quietly. “I feel like there are too many eyes on me. Just to have the ground under my feet and a sky overhead for even a little while …” She trailed off.
“All right,” the Ithorian agreed.
Dusque straightened her head and focused her eyes on him. “Really?” she asked quietly, and there was a childlike delight in her voice.
Tendau nodded. “When do you want to go?”
“How about at first light?”
“Will that be enough time to gather appropriate equipment?” he asked her.
“I’ve got my pack and a few extra items,” she replied, and Tendau watched as she perked up and grew more confident with each passing moment, now that she had something to focus on. “Anything else we might need we can probably get here. I think I noticed a crafting station near the spaceport. I’m sure that’ll cover it.” She shoved at some of her chips with a slim finger.
“There’s a travel terminal near the spaceport. When we arrived the other night, I noticed there were at least a few shuttles to Rori on a daily basis. We shouldn’t have any trouble purchasing tickets. We could be there and back in the matter of a day or so, no one the wiser.” She looked at Tendau, and he could tell she was reining in some of her excitement. “Are you really sure you don’t mind?”
“Anything for you, child,” he told her. “And who knows what we might learn once we arrive there, hmm?”
“Exactly,” Dusque agreed. “I’ll find you at first light.” She got up, and Tendau watched as she disappeared into the crowd.
“Who knows what we’ll find,” he repeated slowly to himself, “who knows?”
FOUR
“Where are you?” Dusque called, trying not to sound worried.
Waist deep in a marshy bog, Dusque was cold and miserable. She couldn’t believe Tendau had disappeared. And when she got no response, fear set in.
She and the Ithorian had arrived on Rori a few hours earlier. There were only two cities on Naboo’s moon, and they had chosen the one that bore the name of the man who had officially created the first colony: Narmle. However, what had started out as an outpost had grown into an almost respectably sized city, even boasting a hotel and a medcenter. Dusque had noted that the latter, tiny facility though it was, might come in handy, assuming one wasn’t wounded too far away from it. A thick, reedy bog separated Narmle from the other city, Restuss. Other than that, there was just a vast expanse of jungles and swamps.
“I can see why Narmle eventually gave up on colonizing this place,” she had told Tendau. “I haven’t seen such an overgrown planet in a long time.” The overcast skies added an ominous feel to the place.
Tendau had chuckled at her remarks. “First off, remember that this is a moon, not a planet,” he’d corrected her. “And for one as young as you, nothing is really a long time.” And then he had smiled at her.
The two had left the spaceport in search of more information prior to their search for the borgles. Before they had left Moenia, Dusque had questioned the fingerless Zabrak about the bats, but Fingers had grown hesitant to give out much information as soon as she had realized that Dusque was an Imperial biologist.
“Just why do you want to know?” she had asked.
“I overheard your conversation last night and I agreed with what you said,” Dusque explained.
“You were eavesdropping?” Fingers asked, shocked. She got a wary look in her eye, and her answers became much more guarded. Dusque soon gave up, empathizing with how the woman felt about discovering her privacy had been violated. She was rapidly learning about that herself.
Upon their arrival on Rori, they tried to glean a little more information about the borgles and their habitat. The few who would talk to them, after a tankard or two at the cantina, spoke in low voices tinged with fear. The borgles, it seemed, as well as a few other creatures, had garnered quite a reputation around the area. And it was not good.
“I don’t know anybody
who’s ever killed one of them things,” a drunken Rodian had slurred. “They’re just evil,” he added. No one else had been able to offer much more in the way of useful information except for the general direction in which they might find some caves that housed the creatures. They had to make do with that meager guidance.
Making sure she had emergency supplies in her pack, Dusque concluded that she was well equipped. Between her sampling tools and food rations for both her and the Ithorian, there wasn’t much more she could think of. She hoisted her pack on her back, and strapped a small but effective Twi’lek dagger to her thigh. And in consideration of the terrain, she even tied back her waist-length hair. Then, certain she had everything, she had checked in with Tendau.
“Are you sure you want to come along?” she had asked him one more time. “You could stay here in Narmle and we could use comms to stay in touch.”
“And what would be the point of my remaining behind?” he had asked. “I thought we were in this together. Besides, who would watch you if I weren’t there?” He had smiled at that, but Dusque became uneasy.
“Why would anyone need to watch me?” she asked, on edge.
The Ithorian lost his easy smile. “I meant,” he corrected himself, “who would make sure you stayed out of trouble?” The moment dragged out between them, filled with tension.
Finally Dusque broke the awkwardness. “Since when do I ever get into trouble?” she asked, deciding she had to lighten up more around the Ithorian.
He raised his long hand and started to count off. “There was the time on Tatooine, Yavin Four—”
“All right!” She laughed with genuine warmth and threw her hands up in defeat. “You win. Watch away.” And with that, she gathered up his gear, despite his protests, and placed the bulk of it in her backpack, to relieve him from some of the excess weight and pressure on his feet. She noticed one item that was out of the ordinary, however. Tendau had a CDEF blaster in his possession. She had never seen him carry any weapon before, other than a survival knife. She looked at him sharply.
“I have an uneasy feeling about this mission,” he told her gravely. “And I did not want to go into it unprepared.”
“Probably a good idea,” Dusque agreed hesitantly, but she was still unnerved by the sight of the deadly weapon. Of course, she told herself, all weapons can be lethal with the right training. Still, there was something almost sinister about the black, shiny blaster lying there like an unspoken accusation.
And so they had left Narmle on foot and headed out into the wilds of the Rori backwoods. For a while, Dusque and Tendau did no more than follow the rough coordinates that they had received from the drunken Rodian, who had simply said to go southeast. Each seemed lost in his or her respective thoughts, and the wide plains were ideal for contemplation. The gray, overcast skies fit the mood. The farther in they proceeded, the more Dusque sensed herself relax.
With the fields under her feet and the lack of prying eyes, she felt as though a weight were lifting. The only thing that preyed on her mind was her colleague. The longer they traveled across the plains, the more Dusque realized that what was troubling her about Tendau was not his actions at all, but the fact that she somehow doubted him. That was what had set her off balance. She knew there was only one thing to do, and she stopped her light run dead.
“What is it?” Tendau asked, immediately on guard. “Did you see something?”
“Not exactly,” she began. “But I thought this might be a good spot to do some foraging and surveying. We came here for samples, after all.”
“Good idea,” he agreed, but Dusque could see that at least part of the reason he was acquiescing so easily was because he was tired. She once again marveled at his fortitude in his work when he was so obviously in pain, and she wondered how she could have come to doubt him.
Whether it was the onset of shame or the fact that she just wanted to be honest with him, Dusque blurted out, “Are you an Imperial bioengineer?”
The Ithorian turned off his device, stopped surveying, and stood up. He had a perplexed look on his face, as though he was trying to figure out the joke in her absurd question. “You know what I am,” he told her. “Why do you ask?”
The pile of rocks she had been surveying was abandoned. She lowered her pack to the ground and sat down with her back against it. The cold stones felt good on her shoulders. She motioned to Tendau with her hand, inviting him to sit with her.
As soon as the Ithorian had lowered his large frame to the ground, he asked her, “Is this about last night?”
Dusque smiled ruefully. “Right to the heart of it, as usual. Am I so transparent?”
“Child,” Tendau started, “it’s not because you are transparent that I know you, but because you are honest. And last night, you were not yourself. Something or someone frightened you. It pained me,” he continued, laying a hand against his chest, “to see you so far removed from yourself. Will you tell me what has happened to cause you to question?”
Dusque turned away, once again consumed by doubt laced with fear. It was this unnamed fear that had changed everything for her. She shifted onto her knees and started to rummage through her pack. “If we’re going to be here a while,” she explained, “we might as well be comfortable.” She found her small tool kit and in a matter of moments had a tiny but cheery fire burning. The damp was starting to seep into her bones and she knew that if she felt uncomfortable, the Ithorian felt worse, no matter how stoic he remained about it.
“As usual, you are a wonderful observer. Something did happen last night,” she said and then faltered.
“Do you want to share this with me right now,” he offered, “or would you rather we not speak of it?” Dusque knew he had made the offer because he sensed her unease. And with that simple act of kindness, she knew in her heart that if there was anyone she could or should trust, it was he.
“Thank you for that,” she replied and he smiled at her, giving her the time she needed. “Does it ever bother you,” she began, “to do the things we do?”
“Is that why you asked if I was an Imperial engineer?” he asked. Dusque nodded. The Ithorian stared into the fire a moment before he responded. “It is something I wrestle with,” he admitted.
“I wanted so much,” he went on, “to see all of Mother Jungle in her many incarnations. That need drove me from my herd ship to pursue the stars. And in the course of that pursuit, I was ‘recruited,’ if you will, into Imperial service.
“At the beginning,” he added, “it did not seem so bad.”
Dusque nodded in understanding. “And now?”
It was Tendau’s turn to sigh. “And now, it is different.”
“Why now?” Dusque asked, hoping that his answers would somehow guide her.
“I thought,” he admitted, “that the Empire would leave us alone. And I believed that nature should be allowed to take its course. But after the Battle of Yavin, we were no longer uninvolved. The Empire decided to leave a garrison stationed on Ithor. Like so many other worlds, the Empire had implanted themselves like a blight on us. It was then that my eyes were opened.” He stopped and looked into the small fire and did not continue for several long moments.
“I believe in the Mother Jungle,” he said eventually, “and disease is a part of her mystery. By design, it serves a purpose, as do famine and competition for territory. All of these things are unpleasant for some to observe, but a single part in a larger cycle. But when one starts to tamper with nature, the disease that should be checked runs rampant instead. I believe the Empire places the galaxy out of equilibrium. It is the duty of every individual to find and restore balance.
“So,” he sighed, “to answer your question, I am a biologist who works for the Empire. I do not know for how much longer, though. Does that make sense?”
Dusque was silent for a while. She weighed his words against what she felt inside. Finally, she said, “And just what does one do to return the galaxy to equilibrium?”
The Ithori
an smiled at her. “My child, I do not have one answer for you. I wish I did. But each of us must make a journey to a decision that is for us alone. While my destination might be the same as yours, our paths must inherently be different.”
Dusque pulled her knees up against her chest and wrapped her arms about them, although she felt no chill. “And how do we know what our path is?”
Tendau reached over with his long arm and brushed her hair lightly. Dusque momentarily had a flash of her father. That gesture had been the only physical affection he had ever demonstrated to the sole girl in his brood. She was struck momentarily by a touch of homesickness, which she immediately banished.
“It will become clear to you,” he said gently, “in time.”
Caught up in the moment, Dusque confessed, “I met someone last night.” The Ithorian said nothing, only nodded to her to continue.
“He said he was with the Alliance,” she said quietly, lowering her voice even though there was no one else as far as the eye could see. “And he said he needed my help.” She looked at the Ithorian imploringly. “He … knew things about me.”
Tendau nodded gravely. “Dusque, there are very few secrets in this galaxy. You should know that. After all,” he added, “even our job is to unravel secrets at the most basic, genetic level. We are all watched as though under a microscope. We are all known to one degree or another.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I guess I thought I was under the radar, so to speak. I guess I thought no one really noticed me. I mean,” she added, “I never get any recognition at the labs. I got used to thinking of myself as invisible. And,” she finally admitted, “I think I liked being overlooked.”
“It is a shadow of a life,” the Ithorian said, “and one I have been guilty of, as well. I put my desires before the needs of others. But you have only been overlooked out of fear. Willel fears you because he knows that you will surpass him in ability soon enough.”
“So what do I do?” she asked.
The Ruins of Dantooine Page 6
