by Timothy Zahn
“I don't believe it,” Wyan murmured under his breath. “That blast wasn't that powerful. How could it have destroyed the body so completely?”
“I don't know,” Barris said, getting back to his feet. “And for the moment, I don't care. We're getting out of here. Now.”
He eased his comlink on, discovered the jamming had finally ceased.
“This is Colonel Barris,” he said. “All Imperial troops are to return to the encampment at once and prepare for evacuation.”
“Sir?” Wyan murmured, staring out at the forest. “Looks like they found him.”
Barris followed his gaze. Emerging into the clearing were the three stormtroopers who'd gone to look for their missing comrade... and they had indeed found him. Or at least, what was left of him.
“The perfect end to a perfect mission, “ Barris growled. “Come on, Major. Let's get out of here.”
Barris had half expected the transport and troop carriers would be attacked as they lifted from the forest and headed for the sky. But no missiles or laser pulses followed them up, and soon they were once again inside the shelter of the Strikefast's hangar bay.
Captain Parck was waiting beside the transport as Barris emerged. “Colonel,” he nodded gravely in greeting. “I don't recall giving you permission to leave your position.”
“No, sir, you didn't,” Barris said, hearing the weariness in his own voice. “But as you yourself pointed out earlier, I was the commander on the scene. I did what I deemed best.”
“Yes,” Parck murmured. For a moment he continued to look at Barris, then shifted his gaze to the transport itself. It seemed to Barris that his eyes lingered for a moment on the minor blast damage caused by the impossible explosion that had disintegrated that stormtrooper...” Well, what's done is done. I'm told you brought the alien encampment up with you.”
“Yes, sir,” Barris said, frowning slightly as he tried to read his commander's expression. He would have expected Parck to be angry, or at least pointedly dissatisfied with the troopers' performance. But instead, he seemed merely thoughtful. “Do you want me to have the techs get back to work on it?”
“There's no hurry,” Parck said. “For now, everyone is to report to debriefing. Those smuggler attacks were far too effective; I want to know everything about what happened down there.” He brought his gaze hard onto Barris. “As for you, Colonel, I want you to accompany me back to my office.”
So he was going to drop the hammer on Barris in private. A small favor, at least. “Yes, sir,” Barris sighed.
They left the hangar bay; but to Barris’s surprise they didn't go to Parck's office. Instead, the captain led the way up to the hangar bay control tower, the lights of which had been inexplicably darkened. “Sir?” Barris asked as Parck stepped to the observation window.
“An experiment, Colonel,” Parck said, gesturing to the man at the control board. “All right, dim the lights in the hangar bay.”
Barris stepped to Parck's side as the lights outside the observation window faded to nighttime levels. The transport and troop carriers they'd just left were prominently visible directly below; beyond them at the other end of the bay were three Kappa-class shuttles and a Harbinger courier ship. No one was in sight anywhere. “What sort of experiment?” Barris asked.
“The testing of a theory, actually,” Parck said. “Make yourself comfortable, Colonel. We may be here awhile.”
They'd been there nearly two hours when a shadowy figure emerged stealthily from the transport. Silently, it slipped across the darkened hangar bay toward the other ships, taking advantage of the sparse cover along the way.
“Who is that?” Barris asked, straining his eyes to try to penetrate the dim light.
“The source of all your troubles down on the surface, Colonel,” Parck said with obvious satisfaction. “Unless I'm mistaken, that's the alien whose home you invaded.”
Barris frowned. One alien? One alien? “That's impossible, sir,” he protested. “Those attacks could not have been the work of a single alien.”
“Well, we'll see if one or two others join him,” Parck said. “If not, I would say he was it.”
The shadowy figure had moved across the floor to the other ships now. For a moment it paused as if considering. Then, deliberately, it stepped to the door of the middle Kappa shuttle and slipped inside. “It appears he was indeed alone,” Parck said, pulling out a comlink and thumbing it on. “All right, commander, move in. He's in the middle Kappa. Set all weapons for stun: I want him alive and unharmed.”
After all the trouble the alien had created for Colonel Barris on the planet surface, Parck had expected him to put up a terrific fight against his captors. To his mild surprise, the other apparently surrendered to the stormtrooper squad without any resistance at all. Perhaps he was taken by surprise. More likely, he knew when resistance was futile.
Which to Parck's mind merely made the creature that much more intriguing. And made the nebulous plan forming in the back of his mind that much more feasible.
The hangar bay lights had been restored to their normal intensity by the time the stormtroopers escorted the alien out of the shuttle, and Parck found himself staring in fascination as the prisoner was brought over to where he and Barris waited. He was generally very Human in size and build, though with some notable differences. He was dressed in what appeared to be skins and furs, apparently made from the indigenous animals from the forest where he'd been living. In the center of a square of armed stormtroopers, he nevertheless had an air of almost regal confidence about him as he walked.
“Look at that,” Barris muttered, a note of disgust in his voice as he gestured toward the alien. “Reminds me of those dirty Jawa things on Tatooine. You know— with those—”
“Quiet, Colonel,” Parck murmured as the alien and his escort came to a stop in front of him. “Welcome aboard the Victory Star Destroyer Strikefast. Do you speak Basic?”
For a moment the alien seemed to be studying him. “Some,” he said.
“Good,” Parck said. “I'm Captain Parck, commander of this ship.”
Leisurely, the alien let his gaze drift around the hangar bay. Not like a primitive overwhelmed by the size and magnificence of the place, but like another military man sizing up his enemy's strengths. And weaknesses. “I am called Mitth'raw'nuruodo,”he said, bringing his eyes back to Parck.
“Mitth'raw'nuruodo,” Parck repeated, trying not to mangle the alien word and not succeeding all that well. “First of all, I want you to know that we did not intend to intrude on your privacy down there. We were chasing smugglers, and happened upon your home. One of our standing orders is to study all unknown species we come across.”
“Yes,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. “So said also the K'rell'n traders who first contacted my people.”
Parck frowned. K'rell'n traders? “Must mean Corellians,” Barris suggested.
“Ah,” Parck nodded. “Of course. I imagine dealing with them is how you learned Basic.”
“What do you wish of me?” Mitth'raw'nuruodo asked.
“What do you wish of us?” Parck countered. “You went to a great deal of effort to inveigle your way aboard this ship. What did you hope to accomplish?”
“If you plan to kill me, I would ask that it be done quickly,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, ignoring the question.
“We don't have to just ask you these questions,” Barris put in harshly. “We have drugs and interrogation methods—”
“Enough,” Parck said, cutting off Barris's tirade with an upraised hand. “You'll have to excuse Colonel Barris, Mitth'raw'nuruodo. You ran him and his troopers around in concentric rings down there, and he's not at all happy about that.”
The alien looked at Barris. “It was necessary.”
“Why?” Parck persisted. “What did you hope to accomplish here?”
“To return home.”
“You were shipwrecked?”
“I was exiled.”
The word seemed to hang in the fume-s
cented air of the hangar bay. “Why?” Parck asked into the silence.
“The leaders and I disagreed,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said.
Parck snorted under his breath, thinking about some of the louder members of the Imperial Senate. “Yes, we have the same problems with some of our leaders,” he told Mitth'raw'nuruodo. “Perhaps we can help each other.”
The alien's eyes narrowed slightly. “How?”
“As you see, we have many starships,” Parck said, waving a hand around the hangar bay. “There's no reason why we couldn't provide you with what you need to get home.”
“In exchange for what?”
“I'll tell you in a moment,” Parck said. “First, though, I'd like to know exactly how you were able to outmaneuver all those troopers down there.”
“It was not difficult,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, looking at Barris again. “Your spacecraft crashed near my place of exile, and I had time to examine it before your following troops arrived. The pilot was dead. I took his body and hid it away.”
“And filled his flight suit with grass,” Barris put in. “Hoping we wouldn't notice you'd taken his comlink.”
“And you didn't,” the alien reminded him calmly. “More important to me was that you would find the situation intriguing or disturbing, and that you would thus bring the suit and fermented pyussh berries back to your camp.”
“Fermented berries?” Barris echoed.
“Yes,” the alien said. “When fermented and crushed, pyussh berries are a strong lure for certain small nocturnal animals.”
“Which you'd strapped the gimmicked blaster power packs to,” Barris said suddenly. “That's how you got them in past our sentry perimeter.”
“Yes,” the alien said with a short nod of his head. “Also how I attacked the soldiers later. I used a sling to throw more of the berries onto their armor, which then drew the animals to them.”
“You also caused a TIE fighter to crash,” Parck said. “At least, I presume that was your doing. How did you accomplish that?”
Mitth'raw'nuruodo shrugged fractionally. “I knew the spacecraft would come to search. In preparation I had strung some of my monofilament line between two of the taller tree tops. One of the spacecraft hit it.”
Parck nodded. And at such low altitude, of course, the pilot wouldn't have had enough time to recover from the sudden impact. “It wouldn't have done you any good to capture the TIE fighter intact, you know,” he told the alien. “They're not equipped with hyperdrives.”
“I did not expect the spacecraft to survive,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. “I wanted the pilot's equipment. And his comlink.”
“But you didn't take the comlink,” Barris objected. “We checked at the encampment and it was still there.”
“No,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. “What was there was the comlink from the first pilot.”
Parck smiled in spite of himself. So simple, yet so ingenious. “So you switched the comlinks. That way, when we finally discovered the first one was gone and locked it out of the circuit, you still had one that functioned. Very ingenious.”
“Very simple,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo countered.
“So you killed a TIE pilot for his comlink,” Barris said harshly. Clearly, he wasn't nearly as impressed by the alien's resourcefulness as Parck was. “Why did you keep killing my men? For the fun of it?”
“No,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said gravely. “So that soldiers with fuller armor would come.”
“With fuller— ?” Barris broke off. “The stormtroopers? You wanted stormtroopers to come?”
“Your soldiers wore helmets,” the alien said, tracing an imaginary brim around his forehead. “No good for me.” He touched a hand to his face. “I needed armor that would cover my face.”
“Of course, “ Parck nodded. “That was the only way you would be able to enter the encampment undetected.”
“Yes,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo agreed. “I used an explosive on one first, so that I would have a set of armor to study—”
“Just a minute,” Barris interrupted. “How did you do that without anyone hearing the explosion?”
“It came at the same moment I began the communications jamming,” the alien said. “Of course no one heard.”
“Which you accomplished using the comlink you'd borrowed?” Parck suggested.
“Yes,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. “I studied the armor and found a way to kill the soldier inside without noticeable damage. I did so, then walked into the camp and went into the large ship. No one was yet inside. With small branches I had brought I stood the armor upright and put it outside the doorway, with an explosive inside to destroy it.”
“So that we wouldn't realize there were actually two missing stormtroopers,” Parck nodded again. “Again, ingenious. Finally, then, where did you hide during the ride up?”
“Inside the second power generator casing,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo told him. “It is nearly empty— I have been using it for parts to keep the first running.”
Parck cocked an eyebrow at him. “Which implies you've been here for a while. I can see why you wanted so desperately to leave.”
Mitth'raw'nuruodo drew himself up to his full height. “I was not desperate. It is necessary that I return to my people.”
“Why?” Parck asked.
Again, the alien seemed to study him. “Because they are in danger,” he said at last. “There are many dangers in the galaxy.”
“Including us?” Barris growled.
The alien didn't flinch. “Yes.”
“And how would you help protect your people from these dangers?” Parck said, throwing an annoyed look at Barris.
“They do not accept the concept of— I do not know the word. An attack made against an enemy before he attacks you.”
“A preemptive strike,” Parck supplied.
“A preemptive strike,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo repeated. “I alone of our warrior leaders accept this concept as being within the correct bounds of warfare.”
So he'd been a warrior leader, then. Obvious, now, really. “And you think you can now persuade your people to accept this concept?”
“I do not intend to try,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said calmly. “I do not need their permission to fight on their behalf.”
“What, all by yourself?” Barris said, his voice half incredulity and half sneer.
Mitth'raw'nuruodo eyed him, and Parck thought he could detect a note of contempt in the alien's face. “If necessary.”
“That's very gallant,” Parck said. “Also very foolish. And potentially very wasteful.”
“You have an alternative to suggest?” the alien countered.
Parck smiled slightly. “You're still studying us, aren't you?” he asked. “Even now, as our prisoner, with little hope of escape, you're studying us.”
“Of course,” the alien said. “You said it yourselves: you are potential dangers.”
“True,” Parck said. “On the other hand, how better to neutralize a potential danger than from within it?”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Barris's mouth drop open. “Captain, what are you suggesting?”
“I'm offering Mitth'raw'nuruodo the chance at a position within the Fleet, Colonel,” Parck said, watching the alien's face closely. There was no surprise there, no change of expression at all. Perhaps he was too shocked to react. More likely he'd already anticipated the offer. Perhaps had even deliberately maneuvered the conversation this direction. “Emperor Palpatine has many enemies,” Parck continued. “The resistance groups sprouting up show that much. A warrior leader of Mitth'raw'nuruodo's skills would be a valuable asset to us.”
“But he's an—” Barris broke off his sentence with a hiss.
“An alien?” Parck finished for him. “Yes, he is. But sometimes that doesn't make a difference.”
“It does with Palpatine,” Barris said harshly.
“Not always.” Parck lifted his eyebrows slightly. “I'm willing to risk it, Mitth'raw'nuruodo. How about you?”
“Th
e benefit to you is clear,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. “What would be the benefit to me?”
“Access to the Fleet's files on aliens here at the Outer Rim, for one thing,” Parck said. “A chance to use your skills to seek out and neutralize threats to your people that might exist within the boundaries of the Empire.”
He shrugged. “And who knows? Perhaps the Emperor would be willing to send you back here with a force strong enough to neutralize those other threats to your people that you mentioned. After all, a threat to your people would also be a potential threat to the Empire.”
Mitth'raw'nuruodo's eyes flicked to Barris. “And if I am not acceptable to your people?”
“Then I give you my personal promise that I'll take you wherever you wish to go,” Parck said.
“Sir, I strongly suggest you reconsider this,” Barris said, his voice soft but urgent. “The Emperor will never accept this— this creature.”
Parck smiled to himself. No, the Emperor did not in general think very highly of non-Humans... but there were some net secret exceptions. Such as the aliens Darth Vader had discovered on a ruined world and recruited into private service to Palpatine. The commander of Vader's ship on that mission— a cousin of Parck's and a former rival at the Academy— had been promoted to Vice Admiral for his part in that encounter.
Maybe Parck had finally found a way to match him. Or even to pass him up. “Have we an agreement?”
“The risk is worth taking,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. “I will come speak with your Emperor.”
Parck smiled, a warm sense of satisfaction flowing through him. He had his prize now, all right. A far better prize than the petty and totally insignificant smuggler still hiding on the planet below. “Excellent,” he said. “We'll leave at once. One warning, though: you're almost certainly going to have to change your name. 'Mitth'raw'nuruodo' is far too hard for the average Fleet officer to pronounce.”
“Of course,” the alien said, smiling. He looked at Barris, those glowing red eyes— as Barris had pointed out, so reminiscent of a Jawa's— glittering in deep contrast to the darkness of his blue skin and blue-black hair. “Perhaps my core name would be easier for the average Fleet officer. Call me Thrawn.”