by Timothy Zahn
“Of course, Your Highness,” Threepio said. He gave a little bow and shuffled his way back out into the gathering dusk.
Leia sighed and looked around her. Her restless wandering around the dukha had brought her to the genealogy wall chart, and for a long minute she gazed at it. There was a deep sense of history present in the carved wood; a sense of history, and a quiet but deep family pride. She let her eyes trace the connections between the names, wondering what the Noghri themselves thought and felt as they studied it. Did they see their triumphs and failures both, or merely their triumphs? Both, she decided. The Noghri struck her as a people who didn’t deliberately blind themselves to reality.
“Do you see in the wood the end of our family, Lady Vader?”
Leia jumped. “I sometimes wish you people weren’t so good at that,” she growled as she regained her balance.
“Forgive me,” the maitrakh said, perhaps a bit dryly. “I did not mean to startle you.” She gestured at the chart. “Do you see our end there, Lady Vader?”
Leia shook her head. “I have no vision of any future, maitrakh. Not yours; not even mine. I was just thinking about children. Trying to imagine what it’s like to try to raise them. Wondering how much of their character a family can mold, and how much is innate in the children themselves.” She hesitated. “Wondering if the evil in a family’s history can be erased, or whether it always passes itself on to each new generation.”
The maitrakh tilted her head slightly, the huge eyes studying Leia’s face. “You speak as one newly facing the challenge of child-service.”
“Yes,” Leia admitted, her hand caressing her belly. “I don’t know if Khabarakh told you, but I’m carrying my first two children.”
“And you fear for them.”
Leia felt a muscle in her cheek twitch. “With good reason. The Empire wants to take them from me.”
The maitrakh hissed softly. “Why?”
“I’m not sure. But the purpose can only be an evil one.”
The maitrakh dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry, Lady Vader. I would help you if I could.”
Leia reached over to touch the Noghri’s shoulder. “I know.”
The maitrakh looked up at the genealogy chart. “I sent all four of my sons into danger, Lady Vader. To the Emperor’s battles. It never becomes easier to watch them go forth to war and death.”
Leia thought of all her allies and companions who had died in the long war. “I’ve sent friends to their deaths,” she said quietly. “That was hard enough. I can’t imagine sending my children.”
“Three of them died,” the maitrakh continued, almost as if talking to herself. “Far from home, with none but their companions to mourn them. The fourth became a cripple, and returned home to live his shortened life in the silent despair of dishonor before death released him.”
Leia grimaced. And now, as the cost for helping her, Khabarakh was facing both dishonor and death—
The line of thought paused. “Wait a minute. You said all four of your sons went to war? And that all four have since died?”
The maitrakh nodded. “That is correct.”
“But then what about Khabarakh? Isn’t he also your son?”
“He is my thirdson,” the maitrakh said, a strange expression on her face. “A son of the son of my firstson.”
Leia looked at her, a sudden horrible realization flashing through her. If Khabarakh was not her son but instead her great-grandson; and if the maitrakh had personally witnessed the space battle that had brought destruction on Honoghr … “Maitrakh, how long has your world been like this?” she breathed. “How many years?”
The Noghri stared at her, clearly sensing the sudden change in mood. “Lady Vader, what have I said—?”
“How many years?”
The maitrakh twitched away from her. “Forty-eight Noghri years,” she said. “In years of the Emperor, forty-four.”
Leia put her hand against the smooth wood of the genealogy chart, her knees suddenly feeling weak with shock. Forty-four years. Not the five or eight or even ten that she’d assumed. Forty-four. “It didn’t happen during the Rebellion,” she heard herself say. “It happened during the Clone Wars.”
And suddenly the shock gave way to a wall of blazing-white anger. “Forty-four years,” she snarled. “They’ve held you like this for forty-four years?”
She spun to face the door. “Chewie!” she called, for the moment not caring who might hear her. “Chewie, get in here!”
A hand gripped her shoulder, and she turned back around to find the maitrakh gazing at her, an unreadable expression on her alien face. “Lady Vader, you will tell me what is the matter.”
“Forty-four years, maitrakh, is what’s the matter,” Leia told her. The fiery heat of her anger was fading, leaving behind an icy resolve. “They’ve held you in slavery for almost half a century. Lying through their teeth to you, cheating you, murdering your sons.” She jabbed a finger down toward the ground beneath their feet. “That is not forty-four years’ worth of decontamination work. And if they aren’t just cleaning the dirt—”
There was a heavy footstep at the door and Chewbacca charged in, bowcaster at the ready. He saw Leia, roared a question as his weapon swung to cover the maitrakh.
“I’m not in danger, Chewie,” Leia told him. “Just very angry. I need you to get me some more samples from the contaminated area. Not soil this time: some of the kholm-grass.”
She could see the surprise in the Wookiee’s face. But he merely growled an acknowledgment and left. “Why do you wish to examine the kholm-grass?” the maitrakh asked.
“You said yourself it smelled different than before the rains came,” Leia reminded her. “I think there may be a connection here we’ve missed.”
“What connection could there be?”
Leia shook her head. “I don’t want to say anything more right now, maitrakh. Not until I’m sure.”
“Do you still wish to go to Nystao?”
“More than ever,” Leia said grimly. “But not to hit and run. If Chewie’s samples show what I think they will, I’m going to go straight to the dynasts.”
“What if they refuse to listen?”
Leia took a deep breath. “They can’t refuse,” she said. “You’ve already lost three generations of your sons. You can’t afford to lose any more.”
For a minute the Noghri gazed at her in silence. “You speak truth,” she said. She hissed softly between her needle teeth, and with her usual fluid grace moved toward the door. “I will return within the hour,” she said over her shoulder. “Will you be ready to leave then?”
“Yes,” Leia nodded. “Where are you going?”
The maitrakh paused at the door, her dark eyes locking onto Leia’s. “You speak truth, Lady Vader: they must listen. I will be back.”
* * *
The maitrakh returned twenty minutes later, five minutes ahead of Chewbacca. The Wookiee had collected a double handful of the kholm-grass from widely scattered sites and retrieved the analysis unit from its hiding place in the decon droid shed. Leia got the unit started on a pair of the ugly brown plants and they set off for Nystao.
But not alone. To Leia’s surprise, a young Noghri female was already seated at the driver’s seat of the open-topped landspeeder the maitrakh had obtained for them; and as they drove through the village at a brisk walking pace a dozen more Noghri joined them, striding along on both sides of the landspeeder like an honor guard. The maitrakh herself walked next to the vehicle, her face unreadable in the dim reflected light from the instrument panel. Sitting in the back seat next to the analysis unit, Chewbacca fingered his bowcaster and rumbled distrustingly deep in his throat. Behind him, wedged into the luggage compartment at the rear of the vehicle, Threepio was uncharacteristically quiet.
They passed through the village into the surrounding cropland, running without lights, the small group of Noghri around them virtually invisible in the cloud-shrouded starlight. The party reached another village,
barely distinguishable from the cropland now that its own lights were darkened for the night, and passed through without incident. More cropland; another village; more cropland. Occasionally Leia caught glimpses of the lights of Nystao far ahead, and she wondered uneasily whether confronting the dynasts directly was really the wisest course of action at this point. They ruled with the assistance or at least the tacit consent of the Empire, and to accuse them of collaboration with a lie would not sit well with such a proud and honor-driven people.
And then, in the northeast sky, the larger of Honoghr’s three moons broke through a thick cloud bank … and with a shock Leia saw that she and her original escort were no longer alone. All around them was an immense sea of shadowy figures, flowing like a silent tide along the landspeeder’s path.
Behind her, Chewbacca growled surprise of his own. With his hunter’s senses he had already been aware that the size of their party was increasing with each village they passed through. But even he hadn’t grasped the full extent of the recruitment, and wasn’t at all certain he liked it.
But Leia found some of the tightness in her chest easing as she settled back against the landspeeder’s cushions. Whatever happened in Nystao now, the sheer size of the assemblage would make it impossible for the dynasts to simply arrest her and cover up the fact that she’d ever been there.
The maitrakh had guaranteed her a chance to speak. The rest would be up to her.
They reached the edge of Nystao just before sunrise … to find another crowd of Noghri waiting for them.
“Word has arrived ahead of us,” the maitrakh told Leia as the landspeeder and its escort moved toward them. “They have come to see the daughter of the Lord Vader and to hear her message.”
Leia looked at the crowd. “And what is the message you’ve told them to expect?”
“That the debt of honor to the Empire has been paid in full,” the maitrakh said. “That you have come to offer a new life for the Noghri people.”
Her dark eyes bored into Leia’s face in unspoken question. Leia looked in turn over her shoulder at Chewbacca, and raised her eyebrows. The Wookiee rumbled an affirmative and tilted the analysis unit up to show her the display.
Sometime during their midnight journey the unit had finally finished its work … and as she read the analysis, Leia felt a fresh stirring of her earlier anger toward the Empire at what they’d done to these people. “Yes,” she told the maitrakh. “I can indeed prove that the debt has been paid.”
Nearer now to the waiting crowd, she could see in the dusky light that most of the Noghri were females. The relative handful of males she could spot were either the very light gray skin tone of children and young adolescents or the much darker gray of the elderly. But directly in line with the landspeeder’s path were a group of about ten males with the steely-gray color of young adults. “I see the dynasts have heard the word, too,” she said.
“That is our official escort,” the maitrakh said. “They will accompany us to the Grand Dukha, where the dynasts await you.”
The official escort—or guards, or soldiers; Leia wasn’t quite sure how to think of them—remained silent as they walked in arrowhead formation in front of the land-speeder. The rest of the crowd was alive with whispered conversation, most of it between the city dwellers and the villagers. What they were saying Leia didn’t know; but wherever her eyes turned the Noghri fell silent and gazed back in obvious fascination.
The city was smaller than Leia had expected, particularly given the limited land area the Noghri had available to them. After only a few minutes, they arrived at the Grand Dukha.
From its name Leia had expected it to be simply a larger version of the dukha back in the village. It was certainly larger; but despite the similarity in design, there was a far different sense to this version. Its walls and roof were made of a silver-blue metal instead of wood, with no carvings of any sort on their surfaces. The supporting pillars were black—metal or worked stone, Leia couldn’t tell which. A wide set of black-and-red-marbled steps led up to a gray flagstone entrance terrace outside the double doors. The whole thing seemed cold and remote, very different from the mental picture of the Noghri ethos that she’d built up over the past few days. Fleetingly, she wondered if the Grand Dukha had been built not by the Noghri, but by the Empire.
At the top of the steps stood a row of thirteen middle-aged Noghri males, each wearing an elaborately tooled garment that looked like a cross between a vest and a shawl. Behind them, his arms and legs chained to a pair of upright posts in the middle of the terrace, was Khabarakh.
Leia gazed past the row of dynasts at him, a ripple of sympathetic ache running through her. The maitrakh had described the mechanics of a Noghri public humiliation to her; but it was only as she looked at him that she began to grasp the full depth of the shame involved in the ritual. Khabarakh’s face was haggard and pale, and he sagged with fatigue against the chains holding his wrists and upper arms. But his head was upright, his dark eyes alert and watching.
The crowd parted to both sides as the landspeeder reached the dukha area, forming a passage for the vehicle to move through. The official escort went up the stairs, forming a line between the crowd and the row of dynasts. “Remember, we’re not here to fight,” Leia murmured to Chewbacca; and summoning every bit of regal demeanor she could muster, she stepped out of the landspeeder and walked up the stairs.
The last rustle of conversation in the crowd behind her vanished as she reached the top. “I greet you, dynasts of the Noghri people,” she said in a loud voice. “I am Leia Organa Solo, daughter of your Lord Darth Vader. He who came to you in your distress, and brought you aid.” She held out the back of her hand toward the Noghri in the center of the line.
He gazed at her for a moment without moving. Then, with obvious reluctance, he stepped forward and gingerly sniffed at her hand. He repeated the test twice before straightening up again. “The Lord Vader is dead,” he said. “Our new lord the Grand Admiral has ordered us to bring you to him, Leia Organa Solo. You will come with us to await the preparation of transport.”
From the bottom of the steps Chewbacca growled warningly. Leia quieted him with a gesture and shook her head. “I have not come here to surrender to your Grand Admiral,” she told the dynast.
“You will do so nonetheless,” he said. He signaled, and two of the guards left their line and moved toward Leia.
She stood her ground, again signaling Chewbacca to do the same. “Do you serve the Empire, then, or the people of Honoghr?”
“All Noghri of honor serve both,” the dynast said.
“Indeed?” Leia said. “Does serving Honoghr now mean sending generation after generation of young men to die in the Empire’s wars?”
“You are an alien,” the dynast said contemptuously. “You know nothing about the honor of the Noghri.” He nodded to the guards now standing at Leia’s sides. “Take her into the dukha.”
“Are you then so afraid of the words of a lone alien woman?” Leia asked as the Noghri took her arms in a firm grip. “Or is it that you fear your own power will be diminished by my coming?”
“You will speak no words of discord and poison!” the dynast snarled.
Chewbacca rumbled again, and Leia could sense him preparing to leap up the stairs to her aid. “My words are not of discord,” she said, raising her voice loud enough for the whole crowd to hear. “My words are of treachery.”
There was a sudden stirring from the crowd. “You will be silent,” the dynast insisted. “Or I will have you silenced.”
“I would hear her speak,” the maitrakh called from below.
“You will be silent as well!” the dynast barked as the crowd murmured approval of the maitrakh’s demand. “You have no place or speech here, maitrakh of the clan Kihm’bar. I have not called a convocate of the Noghri people.”
“Yet the convocate is here,” the maitrakh countered. “The Lady Vader has come. We would hear her words.”
“Then you will hea
r them in prison.” The dynast gestured, and two more of the official guard left their line, heading purposefully toward the steps.
It was, Leia judged, the right moment. Glancing down at her belt, she reached out through the Force with all the power and control she could manage—
And her lightsaber leaped from her belt, breaking free from its quick-release and jumping up in front of her. Her eyes and mind found the switch, and with a snap-hiss the brilliant green-white blade flashed into existence, carving out a vertical line between her and the line of dynasts.
There was a sound like a hissing gasp from the crowd. The two Noghri who had been moving toward the maitrakh froze in midstride … and as the gasp vanished into utter silence, Leia knew that she’d finally gotten their complete attention. “I am not merely the daughter of the Lord Vader,” she said, putting an edge of controlled anger into her voice. “I am the Mal’ary’ush: heir to his authority and his power. I have come through many dangers to reveal the treachery that has been done to the Noghri people.”
She withdrew as much of her concentration as she could risk from the floating lightsaber to look slowly down the line of dynasts. “Will you hear me? Or will you instead choose death?”
For a long minute the silence remained unbroken. Leia listened to the thudding of her heart and the deep hum of the lightsaber, wondering how long she could hold the weapon steady in midair before losing control of it. And then, from halfway down the line to her left, one of the dynasts took a step forward. “I would hear the words of the Mal’ary’ush,” he said.
The first dynast spat. “Do not add your own discord, Ir’khaim,” he warned. “You see here only a chance to save the honor of the clan Kihm’bar.”
“Perhaps I see a chance to save the honor of the Noghri people, Vor’corkh,” Ir’khaim retorted. “I would hear the Mal’ary’ush speak. Do I stand alone?”
Silently, another dynast stepped forward to join him. Then another did so; and another, and another, until nine of the thirteen stood with Ir’khaim. Vor’corkh hissed between his teeth, but stepped back to his place in line. “The dynasts of Honoghr have chosen,” he growled. “You may speak.”
