"Would you mind translating on this one?"
"Why, certainly, Master Jacen. How could I mind? After all,
translating has always been my primary function, though it's seldom used
these days. I am fluent in over six forms of communication. Why, in my
prime, I--"
"Em Teedee," Jaina cut in.
"Yes, Mistress Jaina?"
"The translation please?"
"Oh, yes. My associate, Artoo-Detoo, was sent by Master Luke to request
that you report to the landing field to assist Master Peckhum in
unloading supplies for the Jedi academy and for the New Republic
defensive forces. He is due to arrive in just over four standard
minutes."
"Old Peckhum's coming here?" Jaina asked.
"Hey, that's great," Jacen said. Lowie jumped to his feet.
"Perhaps Peckhum will bring news of Zekk," Tenel Ka said.
Jaina blushed slightly and looked away, and Jacen knew the same thought
had occurred to hell "Well, what are we waiting for?" she asked.
Jacen turned back to the incubator. He picked up the perfect,
triangular shard of eggshell, put it in his pocket, and crooned to the
little hatchling. "Don't worry, Nicta. We won't be away long." Then he
and his companions raced together out to the landing field.
.Though they'd seen it twice before, Jacen found it hard to get used to
Peckhum's new ship, the Thunderbolt. It still seemed strange to see the
old spacer flying the modern midsized cargo hauler.
The gleaming entry ramp extended, and several more New Republic soldiers
accompanied Peck-hum down to the ground.
"Hope you don't mind some company," Peckhum said as the guards headed
for their briefing rooms.
"Had to drop off supplies with the ships up in orbit, and these five
needed shore leave something' fierce.
I also brought someone else with me. Chief of State Organa Solo wanted
to make sure he got here safely."
Jaina's eyes lit up. "Zekk?"
Peckhum sighed. "Naw--wish it were. I have been getting' messages from
Zekk fairly regular, though. Doesn't say much, 'cept that he's learnin'
a lot about bounty huntin'."
Jaina slipped the holorecording out of her pocket and pressed it into
Peckhum's hand. "Will you get this message to Zekk for me?"
"Sure will," Peckhum said. "Least we know the people we love are safe,"
he added. "Which is more
than my passenger can say."
"Raynar?" Jacen guessed.
Peckhum nodded. "I'm afraid that boy could use a good deal of cheerin'
up right now."
Lowie rumbled his willingness to help and headed up the ramp.
"Don't worry, we'll take good care of him," Jaina assured the old
spacer.
"This is a fact," Tenel Ka said. "We will remain close to him while we
unload supplies."
"We'll find a way to get his mind off his worries," Jacen said,
following Lowie up the ramp.
'Tll even tell him some of my best jokes."
"Uh-oh," Jaina said as she and Tenel Ka hurried on board. "We're all in
trouble now."
A SHOOTING STAR streaked across the velvety blackness of the night. From
his safe perch in the treetops, Lowbacca looked up hopefully, wondering
if it was a ship arriving unannounced. Perhaps a stranger, perhaps
another addition to the New Republic defense fleet .
. . perhaps his friend Raaba.
His golden eyes studied the trail of light--but it dwindled to a fiery
sparkle. Just a small meteor. The complex gravitational paths in the
Yavin system sent many fragments of rock and dust into the fourth moon's
orbit.
It wasn't Raaba, then. Not yet.
With a grumbling sigh, Lowie leaned back against the cushioning branches
of the Massassi tree. Another false alarm. Returning to his routine of
scouting the night sky, he let his thoughts and his memories drift again
....
He had come here alone after dark, disregarding
the dangers of Yavin 4's wilderness. Lowbacca was a powerful Wookiee,
and he could take care of himself. The jungle moon's predators couldn't
hold a candle to the nightmares he'd already encountered in the lower
forest levels on Kashyyyk.
Trying to hide his inner turmoil from his friends Jacen, Jaina, and
Tenel Ka, Lowie had climbed out of the partially rebuilt Great Temple in
the middle of the sleeping period. Lowie had hauled himself along the
dew-slick stone blocks until he reached the place from which he could
spring across to the wide boughs of the nearest Massassi tree.
From there, he climbed higher until he reached the treetop canopy.
He spread the shiny leaves and found himself a spot where he could sit
back and look up into the vastness of stars. Where he could keep watch.
His friend Raaba was out there . . . somewhere.
Lowie touched his syren-fiber belt where Em Teedee normally hung.
He had left the little droid switched to recharge mode on a shelf in his
quarters.
Em Teedee would have scolded him for going out alone at night, and
undoubtedly would have talked too much when Lowbacca simply wanted peace
and quiet.
Below, he heard a large animal crashing through vines and underbrush.
Plant-eating creatures chittered through the leaves, searching for
tender night-blooming flowers. He heard the howls and snarls and
snapping twigs of some violent struggle, but the commotion was far away.
A nocturnal stalker had found its food for another day.
It seemed long ago that Lowie had undergone his ordeal, risking his life
in the lower Wookiee forests.
It had been an important rite of passage to secure the gossamer fibers
from the jaws of the carnivorous syren plant. And he had done it alone.
Lowie had been cocky, so foolishly brave, but he had come back a hero,
earning new respect from his fellow Wookiees. That newfound standing
had won him the freedom to choose what he wished to do with his life.
More than anything else, Lowie had wanted to be a Jedi Knight ....
He hadn't dreamed, though, that his bravado might prove deadly for his
friend Raabakyysh, a chocolate-furred Wookiee female who was a close
companion of Lowie's sister Sirrakuk.
Normally, comrades would accompany Wookiees during this coming-of-age
ritual. But Raaba had been so impressed by Lowie's solo feat that she
had attempted to duplicate it. If Lowbacca could do it alone, Raaba
reasoned, then she needed no assistance either.
Raabakyysh had vanished that night, leaving behind only a bloodied
backpack. Lowie and Sirra had mourned the loss of their friend.
Everyone had presumed her dead.
But on Kuar, while Lowie and the other young
Jedi Knights were searching for Bornan Thul in the ancient ruins, Rabba
suddenly reappeared. She had been hiding all this time, trying to find
her own way in life.
During her long absence, Raaba had joined the Diversity Alliance, a
political movement she believed in fervently. Its leader, a Twi'lek
woman named Nolaa Tarkona, demanded restitution for all the damage
inflicted by humans upon alien species.
When Tyko Thul offhandedly insulted
Tarkona in conversation, Raaba had
taken offense and departed from Kuar.
Now Lowie feared his long-lost Wookiee friend might not come back--at
least not anytime soon.
But he still held out hope.
From his perch in the trees he perked up again as he saw another flaming
streak cross the sky. The burning white line sliced the night.
But it was just another shooting star.
He sighed again and settled back to wait. It would be a long night.
The next morning, his body aching from his long vigil, Lowie went to the
comm center and requested permission to send a message to his family.
The request was quickly granted. All Jedi trainees had the freedom to
communicate home whenever they wished.
While Lowie secured a transmission link back to
Kashyyyk, he checked the chronometers on the wall and calculated the
time shift, hoping he wouldn't wake his family in the middle of the
night. He saw that it was early morning back on the forest world; both
of his parents would be at work in the high-tech computer fabrication
facility.
Lowie's sister Sirra answered the call; her image glowed brightly before
him. She stood back in surprise, opening her mouth in a wide grin as
she recognized her brother. Thanks to her radical trimming and cutting,
Sirra's fur stood up in bristly shocks. She shaved it in various
patterns at the wrists, ankles, knees, and elbows to give herself a
distinctive look, an individuality that many younger Wookiees preferred.
They each designed their own fur patterns, trying to establish a new
identity for the youth of their species in this time of prosperity after
years of Imperial oppression.
No one else in the comm center had any idea what the two barking,
growling Wookiees were saying to each other, so Lowie did not worry
about eavesdroppers. He had wanted to let Raaba keep her secret, give
her time to deliver the news herself, but he needed to talk to
someone--someone who understood.
Warning Sirra to keep his words in strictest confidence, he told her he
had good news and bad news. Lowie stumbled around at first, unsure of
how to begin. Finally, he blurted out that Raaba
was alive, then breathlessly summarized how the chocolate-furred Wookiee
had shown up on Kuar.
Sirra was overjoyed to hear the news and voiced a yelp of ecstatic
surprise. She followed with several minutes of joyous questions and
demands for details, interspersed with low crooning and cries of
delight.
When Lowie explained how Raaba had vanished again, though, Sirra gave a
concerned growl. But even that sad note was not enough to diminish her
joy at learning that Raaba still lived.
Lowie's own thoughts remained in turmoil. No matter how often he
contemplated Raaba, he still couldn't make up his mind how he really
felt about her, what he hoped might happen between them, or what he
expected her to do.
After leaving appropriate greetings for his parents, Lowie signed off.
He shuffled down winding stone corridors on the way back to his
quarters.
With a long, throaty sigh, Lowie picked up the translating droid and
switched it on, finally ready to face the day's training activities.
Em Teedee bubbled happily. "Ah, Master Low-bacca, good morning to you!
I must say, I feel thoroughly recharged. How utterly restful it is when
we're not out having dangerous adventures."
With a click, Lowie attached the little droid to the glossy fibers of
his belt.
"I trust you slept well yourself, Master Low-bacca?"
the droid asked.
Lowie gave a noncommittal grunt, which Em Teedee took as a yes.
INSIDE THE BUSTLING, hollow asteroid of Borgo Prime, signs along the
walkway fluoresced and flickered, leading Zekk back to Shanko's Hive.
The dark-haired young man had received his first bounty assignment
inside that popular cantina--and he had come back empty-handed.
Zekk rehearsed various explanations. The blue-skinned bartender,
Droq'l, had hired him to find a scavenger and his cargo, but Fonterrat,
the missing scavenger, was dead and his cargo of precious ronik shells
destroyed. He had no idea how his employer would react to the bad news.
How would Boba Fett have handled this situation?
Zekk asked himself. Fett, one of the most respected (and feared) bounty
hunters in the galaxy, would waste no energy on lengthy explanations or
excuses. Fett would come straight to the point. Zekk decided he would
have to do the same.
Tossing his ponytail over his shoulder, Zekk stopped before the entrance
to an enormous cone-shaped building with horizontal ridges like smooth
circular waves up its sides. He took a brief moment to perform a Jedi
relaxation technique, something Master Skywalker had taught him--not
Brakiss of the Shadow Academy.
Then, projecting all of the confidence a professional bounty hunter
ought to feel, Zekk strode into Shanko's Hive.
Air clouded with exotic scents and flavors enveloped him in a pale gray
haze. Though the interior of the hive cantina had no flat edges, the
contrasting islands of sound and silence, of light and dimness, gave the
illusion of dozens of shadowy corners. A quick glance at the bar told
Zekk that the insectoid proprietor Shanko had emerged from hibernation
and was in no mood to humor fools.
Brief, confident, professional, Zekk reminded himself. His steps did
not falter as he walked toward the bar and tossed a credit chit on it.
"Osskorn Stout," he said without preamble. "I have business with your
bartender."
Dark, foamy ale sloshed onto the counter from the flagon Shanko thunked
down in front of him. As Zekk scooped up the tankard to take a gulp,
one of Shanko's many glossy arms roughly swept out to mop up the spill
while another gave an abrupt jerk, indicating an area to Zekk's right.
Still drinking thirstily, he looked over to see Droq'l in conversation
with a patron who stood just outside the circle of light cast by the
bar's globe-lamps.
Zekk nodded his thanks, and with renewed confidence strode toward the
three-armed bartender.
As if he had an extra eye in the back of his head--which he did, Zekk
now recalled--Droq'l turned just as the young bounty hunter approached,
tankard in hand.
"Did you find what I sent you for?" the bartender asked, his blue face
eager.
"Fonterrat is dead. On Gammalin."
Droq'l grimaced, showing his shiny black teeth.
"Gammalin, huh?"
Zekk shrugged. "Fonterrat accidently exposed the colony to a plaque. He
was imprisoned after the plague hit. The frightened colonists destroyed
his ship and burned his cargo, but the sickness swept through the colony
anyway. It killed every human."
"And Fonterrat wasn't human," the bartender mused, "so he starved alone
in prison after those colonists ruined my shipment of shells." A glint
of pleasure replaced the disappointment in his eyes.
"At least it was a slow, lingering death."
Zekk nodded warily. He reached into his v
est pocket and produced the
holocube that contained the scavenger's final message.
Droq'l watched the entire holomessage, sighed, and spread all three
hands in a gesture of resigned
acceptance. "Just as well. I might've been tempted to terminate
Fonterrat myself for his incompetence."
Then, to Zekk's pleasant surprise, the bartender paid him in full.
"Glad to see a young trainee with some presence of mind," he said.
"You finished what I sent you to do, and you had the good sense to bring
back proof of it. That's more than I could say for some bounty hunters
two or three times your age."
A thoughtful look crept over the bartender's blue-skinned face, and he
drummed the fingers of two hands on the bartop. "Come to think of it, I
may have another job for you, if you're interested. Got a client who's
looking for a bounty hunter. Wants someone resourceful and
trustworthy--but unknown.
That might just be you."
"You seem to be a good enough judge of character," Zekk said, crossing
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