Dark Force Rising (Star Wars) swtt-2

by Timothy Zahn

  Standing two meters to Thrawn's right and a little behind him, Pellaeon shifted his weight imperceptibly between feet, stifled a yawn, and wondered when this ritual would be over. He'd been under the impression they'd come to Honoghr to try to inspire the commando teams, but so far the only Noghri they'd seen had been ceremonial guards and this small but excessively boring collection of clan leaders. Thrawn presumably had his reasons for wading through the ritual, but Pellaeon wished it would hurry up and be over. With a galaxy still to win back for the Empire, sitting here listening to a group of grayskinned aliens drone on about their loyalty seemed a ridiculous waste of time.

  There was a touch of air on the back of his neck.

  "Captain?" someone said quietly in his ear-Lieutenant Tschel, he tentatively identified the voice. "Excuse me, sir, but Grand Admiral Thrawn asked to be informed immediately if anything out of the ordinary happened." Pellaeon nodded slightly, glad of any interruption. "What is it?"

  "It doesn't seem dangerous, sir, or even very important," Tschel said. "A Noghri commando ship on its way in almost didn't give the recognition response in time."

  "Equipment trouble, probably," Pellaeon said.

  "That's what the pilot said," Tschel told him. "The odd thing is that he begged off putting down at the Nystao landing area. You'd think that someone with equipment problems would want his ship looked at immediately."

  "A bad transmitter isn't exactly a crisis-level problem," Pellaeon grunted. But Tschel had a point; and Nystao was the only place on Honoghr with qualified spaceship repair facilities. "We have an ID on the pilot?"

  "Yes, sir. His name's Khabarakh, clan Kihm'bar. I pulled up what we have on him," he added, offering Pellaeon a data pad. Surreptitiously, Pellaeon took it, wondering what he should do now. Thrawn had indeed left instructions that he was to be notified of any unusual activity anywhere in the system. But to interrupt the ceremony for something so trivial didn't seem like a good idea.

  As usual, Thrawn was one step ahead of him. Lifting a hand, he stopped the Noghri clan dynast's presentation and turned his glowing red eyes on Pellaeon. "You have something to report, Captain?"

  "A small anomaly only, sir," Pellaeon told him, steeling himself and stepping to the Grand Admiral's side. "An incoming commando ship was slow to transmit its recognition signal, and then declined to put down at the Nystao landing area. Probably just an equipment problem."

  "Probably," Thrawn agreed. "Was the ship scanned for evidence of malfunction?"

  "Ah ..." Pellaeon checked the data pad. "The scan was inconclusive," he told the other. "The ship's static-damping was strong enough to block-"

  "The incoming ship was static-damped?" Thrawn interrupted, looking sharply up at Pellaeon.

  "Yes, sir.

  Wordlessly, Thrawn held up a hand. Pellaeon gave him the data pad, and for a moment the Grand Admiral frowned down at it, skimming the report.

  "Khabarakh; clan Kihm'bar," he murmured to himself.

  "Interesting." He looked up at Pellaeon again. "Where did the ship go?"

  Pellaeon looked in turn at Tschel. "According to the last report, it was headed south," the lieutenant said. "It might still be in range of our tractor beams, sir.

  Pellaeon turned back to Thrawn. "Shall we try to stop it, Admiral?" with Thrawn looked down at the data pad, his face tight concentration. "No," he said at last. "Let it land, but track it. And order a tech team from the Chimaera to meet us at the ship's final destination." His eyes searched the line of Noghri dynasts, came to rest on one of them. "Dynast Ir'khaim, clan Kihm'bar, step forward."

  The Noghri did so. "What is your wish, my lord?" he mewed.

  "One of your people has come home," Thrawn said. "We go to his village to welcome him."

  Ir'khaim bowed. "At my lord's request." Thrawn stood up. "Order the shuttle to be prepared, Captain," he told Pellaeon. "We leave at once.

  "Yes, sir," Pellaeon said, nodding the order on to Lieutenant Thchel.

  "Wouldn't it be easier, sir. to have the ship and pilot brought here to us?"

  "Easier, perhaps," Thrawn acknowledged, "but possibly not as illuminating. You obviously didn't recognize the pilot's name; but Khabarakh, clan Kihm'bar, was once part of commando team twenty-two. Does that jog any memories?"

  Pellaeon felt his stomach tighten. "That was the team that went after Leia Organa Solo on Kashyyyk."

  "And of which team only Khabarakh still survives," Thrawn nodded. "I think it might be instructive to hear from him the details of that failed mission. And to find out why it's taken him this long to return home." Thrawn's eyes glittered. "And to find out," he added quietly, "just why he's trying so hard to avoid us."

  CHAPTER

  10

  It was full dark by the time Khabarakh brought the ship to ground in his village, a tight-grouped cluster of huts with brightly lit windows. "Do ships land here often?" Leia asked as Khabarakh pointed the ship toward a shadowy structure standing apart near the center of the village. In the glare of the landing lights the shadow became a large cylindrical building with a flat cone-shaped roof, the circular wall composed of massive vertical wooden pillars alternating with a lighter, shimmery wood. Just beneath the eaves she caught a glint of a metal band encircling the entire building.

  "It is not common," Khabarakh said, cutting the repulsorlifts and running the ship's systems down to standby. "Neither is it unheard of." In other words, it was probably going to attract a fair amount of attention. Chewbacca, who had recovered enough for Leia to help into one of the cockpit passenger seats, was obviously thinking along the same lines. "The villagers are all close family of the clan Kihm'bar," Khabarakh said in answer to the Wookiee's slightly slurred question. "They will accept my promise of protection as their own. Come."

  Leia unstrapped and stood up, suppressing a grimace as she did so. But they were here now, and she could only hope that Khabarakh's confidence was more than just the unfounded idealism of youth.

  She helped Chewbacca unstrap and together they followed the Noghri back toward the main hatchway, collecting Threepio from her cabin on the way.

  "I must go first," Khabarakh said as they reached the exit. "By custom, I must approach alone to the dukha of the clan Kihm'bar upon arrival. By law, I am required to announce out-clan visitors to the head of my family."

  "I understand," Leia said, fighting back a fresh surge of uneasiness. She didn't like this business of Khabarakh having conversations with his fellow Noghri that she wasn't in on. Once again, there wasn't a lot she could do about it. "We'll wait here until you come and get us."

  "I will be quick," Khabarakh promised. He palmed the door release twice, slipping outside as the panel slid open and then shut again. Chewbacca growled something unintelligible under his breath. "He'll be back soon," Leia soothed him, making a guess as to what was bothering the Wookiee.

  "I'm certain he is telling the truth," Threepio added helpfully.

  "Customs and rituals of this sort are very common among the more socially primitive prespaceflight cultures."

  "Except that this culture isn't prespaceflight," Leia pointed out, her hand playing restlessly with the grip of her lightsaber as she stared at the closed hatchway in front of her. Khabarath could at least have left the door open so that they would be able to see when he was coming back. Unless, of course, he didn't want them to see when he was coming back.

  "That is evident, Your Highness," Threepio agreed, his voice taking on a professorial tone. "I feel certain, however, that their status in that regard has been changed only recent-Well!" he broke off as Chewbacca abruptly pushed past him and lumbered back toward the center of the ship.

  "Where are you going?" Leia called after the Wookiee. His only reply was some comment about the Imperials that she wasn't quite able to catch.

  "Chewie, get back here," she snapped. "Khabarakh will be back any minute." This time the Wookiee didn't bother to answer. "Great," Leia muttered, trying to decide what to do. If Khabarakh came back and found
Chewbacca gone-but if he came and found both of them gone-"As I was saying," Threepio went on, apparently deciding that the actions of rude Wookiees were better left ignored, "all the evidence I have gathered so far about this culture indicates that they were until recently a nonspacefaring people. Khabarakh's reference to the dukha-obviously a clan center of some sort-the familial and clan structures themselves, plus this w,hole preoccupation with your perceived royal status-"

  "The high court of Alderaan had a royal hierarchy, too," Leia reminded him tartly, still looking back along the empty corridor. No, she decided, she and Threepio had better stay here and wait for Khabarakh. "Most other people in the galaxy didn't consider us to be socially primitive."

  "No, of course not," Threepio said, sounding a little embarrassed. "I didn't mean to imply any such thing."

  "I know," Leia assured him, a little embarrassed herself at jumping on Threepio like that. She'd known what he meant. "Where is he, anyway?" The question had been rhetorical; but even as she voiced it the hatchway abruptly slid open again. "Come," Khabarakh said. His dark eyes flicked over Leia and Threepio-"Where is the Wookiee?"

  "He went back into the ship," Leia told him. "I don't know why. Do you want me to go and find him?"

  Khabarakh made a sound halfway between a hiss and a purr. "There is no time," he said. "The maitrakh is waiting. Come." Turning, he started back down the ramp. "Any idea how long it will take you to pick up the language?" Leia asked Threepio as they followed.

  "I really cannot say, Your Highness," the droid answered as Khabarakh led them across a dirt courtyard past the large wooden building they'd seen on landing-the clan dukha, Leia decided. One of the smaller structures beyond it seemed to be their goal. "Learning an entirely new language would be difficult indeed," Threepio continued. "However, if it is similar to any of the six million forms of communication with which I am familiar-"

  "I understand," Leia cut him off. They were almost to the lighted building now; and as they approached, a pair of short Noghri standing in the shadows pulled open the double doors for them. Taking a deep breath, Leia followed Khabarakh inside.

  From the amount of light coming through the windows she would have expected the building's interior to be uncomfortably bright. To her surprise, the room they entered was actually darker than it had been immediately outside. A glance to the side showed why: the brightly lit "windows' were in fact standard self-powered lighting panels, with the operational sides facing outward. Except for a small amount of spillage from the panels, the interior of the building was lit only by a pair of floating-wick lamps. Threepio's assessment of the society echoed through her mind; apparently, he'd known what he was talking about.

  In the center of the room, standing silently in a row facing her, were five Noghri.

  Leia swallowed hard, sensing somehow that the first words should be theirs. Khabarakh stepped to the Noghri in the center and dropped to his knees, ducking his head to the floor and splaying out his hands to his sides. The same gesture of respect, she remembered, that he'd extended to her back in the Kashyyyk holding cell. "Ilyr'ush mir lakh svoril'lae," he said. "Mir'lae karah siv Mal'ary'ush vir'ae Vader'ush."

  "Can you understand it?" Leia murmured to Threepio.

  "To a degree," the droid replied. "It appears to be a dialect of the ancient trade language-"

  "Sha'eah!" the Noghri in the center of the line spat. Threepio recoiled. "She said, 'Quiet,"" he translated unnecessarily.

  "I understood the gist," Leia said, drawing herself up and bringing the full weight of her Royal Alderaanian Court upbringing to bear on the aliens facing her. Deference to local custom and authority was all well and good; but she was the daughter of their Lord Darth Vader, and there were certain discourtesies that such a person should not put up with. "Is this how you speak to the Mal'ary'ush?" she demanded.

  Six Noghri heads snapped over to look at her. Reaching out with the Force, Leia tried to read the sense behind those gazes; but as always, this particular alien mind seemed totally closed to her. She was going to have to play it by ear. "I asked a question," she said into the silence. The Noghri in the center took a step forward, and with the motion Leia noticed for the first time the two small hard bumps on the alien's upper chest beneath the loose tunic. A female? "Maitrakh?" she murmured to Threepio, remembering the word Khabarakh had used earlier.

  "A female who is leader of a local family or subclan structure," the droid translated, his voice nervous and almost too low to hear. Threepio hated being yelled at.

  "Thank you," Leia said, eyeing the Noghri. "You are the maitrakh of this family?"

  "I am she," the Noghri said in heavily accented but understandable Basic. "What proof do you offer to your claim of Mal'ary'ush?" Silently, Leia held out her hand. The maitrakh hesitated, then stepped up to her and gingerly sniffed it. "Is it not as I said?" Kabarakh asked.

  "Be silent, thirdson," the maitrakh said, raising her head to stare into Leia's eyes. "I greet you, Lady Vader. But I do not welcome you." Leia held her gaze steadily. She could still not sense anything from any of the aliens, but with her thoughts extended she could tell that Chewbacca had left the ship and was approaching the house. approaching rather rapidly, and with a definite agitation about him. She hoped he wouldn't charge brashly in and ruin what little civility remained here. "May I ask why not?" she asked the maitrakh.

  "Did you serve the Emperor?" the other countered. "Do you now serve our lord, the Grand Admiral?"

  "No, to both questions," Leia told her.

  "Then you bring discord and poison among us," the maitrakh concluded darkly. "Discord between what was and what now is." She shook her head. "We do not need more discord on Honoghr, Lady Vader."

  The words were barely out of her mouth when the doors behind Leia swung open again and Chewbacca strode into the room. The maitrakh started at the sight of the Wookiee, and one of the other Noghri uttered something startled sounding. But any further reactions were cut off by Chewbacca's snarled warning. "Are you sure they're Imperials?" Leia asked, a cold fist clutching her heart. No, she pleaded silently. Not now. Not yet. The Wookiee growled the obvious: that a pair of Lambda-class shuttles coming from orbit and from the direction of the city of Nystao could hardly be anything else.

  Khabarakh moved up beside the maitrakh, said something urgently in his own language. "He says he has sworn protection to us," Threepio translated. "He asks that the pledge be honored." For a long moment Leia thought the maitrakh was going to refuse. Then, with a sigh, she bowed her head slightly. "Come with me," Khabarakh said to Leia, brushing past her and Chewbacca to the door. "The maitrakh has agreed to hide you from our lord the Grand Admiral, at least for now."

  "Where are we going?" Leia asked as they followed him out into the night.

  "Your droid and your analysis equipment I will hide among the decon droids that are stored for the night in an outer shed," the Noghri explained, pointing to a windowless building fifty meters away. You and the Wookiee will be more of a problem. If the Imperials have sensor equipment with them, your life-sign profiles will register as different from Noghri."

  "I know," Leia said, searching the sky for the shuttles' running lights and trying to remember everything she could about life-form identification algorithms. Heart rate was one of the parameters, she knew, as were ambient atmosphere, respiratory byproducts, and molecule-chain EM

  polarization effects. But the chief long-range parameter was-"We need a heat source," she told Khabarakh. "As big a one as possible."

  "The bake house," the Noghri said, pointing to a windowless building three down from where they stood. At its back was a squat chimney from which wisps of smoke could be seen curling upward in the backwash of light from the surrounding structures.

  "Sounds like our best chance," Leia agreed. "Khabarakh, you hide Threepio Chewie, come with me."

  The Noghri were waiting for them as they stepped from the shuttle: three females standing side by side, with two children acting as honor wardens
by the doors of the clan dukha building. Thrawn glanced at the group, threw an evaluating sweep around the area, and then turned to Pellaeon. "Wait here until the tech team arrives, Captain," he ordered Pellaeon quietly. "Get them started on a check of the communications and countermeasures equipment in the ship over there. Then join me inside."

  "Yes, sir."

  Thrawn turned to Ir'kbaim. "Dynast," he invited, gesturing at the waiting Noghri. The dynast bowed and strode toward them. Thrawn threw a glance at Rukh, who'd taken Ir'khaim's former position at the Grand Admiral's side, and together they followed. There was the usual welcoming ritual, and then the females led the way into the dukha.

  The shuttle from the Chimaera was only a couple of minutes behind them. Pellaeon briefed the tech team and got them busy, then crossed to the dukha and went in.

  He'd expected that the maitrakh would have managed to round up perhaps a handful of her people for this impromptu late-evening visit by their glorious lord and master. To his surprise, he found that the old girl had in fact turned out half the village. There was a double row of them, children as well as adults, lining the dukha walls from the huge genealogy wall chart back to the double doors and around again to the meditation booth opposite the chart. Thrawn was seated in the clan High Seat two thirds of the way to the back of the room with Ir'khaim standing again at his side. The three females who'd met the shuttle stood facing them with a second tier of elders another pace back. Standing with the females, his steelgray skin a marked contrast to their older, darker gray, was a young Noghri male.

  Pellaeon had, apparently, missed nothing more important than a smattering of the nonsense ritual the Noghri never seemed to get enough of. As he moved past the silent lines of aliens to stand at Thrawn's other side, the young male stepped forward and knelt before the High Seat. "I greet you, my lord," he mewed gravely, spreading his arms out to his sides. "You honor my family and the clan Kihm'bar with your presence here."