by Timothy Zahn
"How can you tell?" Maris asked.
"By the design and markings of the spacecraft," Thrawn said. "I can also tell that the visitor is of direct but peripheral family lineage."
"So is that good or bad?" Car'das asked.
"Mostly neutral," Thrawn said. "The Fifth Family has interests in this region, so this is most likely a routine survey. Certainly someone of higher rank, and from the First or Eighth Families, would have come to deliver a reprimand."
Car'das frowned sideways at Maris. A reprimand?
"You'll all be my guests at the welcoming ceremony, of course," Thrawn continued as the Springhawk made its way toward an empty docking station. "You may find it interesting."
Interesting, in Car'das's opinion, was far too mild a word.
To begin with, there was the welcoming chamber itself. At first it appeared to be nothing more than an empty, unadorned gray room just off the docking station. But at a touch of a hidden button all that changed. Colorful panels folded out from the walls, reversing and settling themselves flat again. A handful of draperies descended from hidden panels in the ceiling, along with wavy stalactite-like formations that reminded Car'das of frozen pieces of aurora borealis skyfire. The floor tiles didn't flip or reconfigure, but intricate patterns of colored lights appeared through a transparent outer surface, some of them remaining stationary or slowly pulsing while others ran sequences that gave the illusion of flowing rivers. Every color of the spectrum was represented, but yellow was definitely favored.
It was an impressive display, and the Chiss who stepped through the portal a minute later was no less impressive. He strode in flanked by a pair of young Chiss wearing dark yellow uniforms and belted handguns, his own outfit consisting of an elaborately layered gray robe with a yellow collar and generous yellow highlights. Though not much older than Thrawn, there was an air about him of nobility and pride, the bearing of someone born to rule. The movements of his escort were crisp and polished, and Car'das had the impression that they and the four black-clad warriors Thrawn had brought along were having a subtle contest as to which group could look the most professional.
Thrawn's greeting and the visitor's response were in Cheunh, of course, and once again Car'das was only able to catch occasional words. But the tone and flow of the speeches, along with the equally formalized gestures and movements, had a sense of ancient ritual that he found fascinating.
It was an attitude, unfortunately, that his fellow travelers didn't seem to share. Maris, with her philosophical disdain for the Republic's structured corruption, clearly had little patience with official ritual of any sort, and watched the proceedings with a sort of polite detachment. Qennto, for his part, merely looked bored.
The ceremony ended, the two yellow-clad Chiss moved back to flank the doorway to the ship, and with a gesture Thrawn led his visitor to where the three humans waited. "May I present Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano of the Fifth Ruling Family," he said, switching from Cheunh to Sy Bisti. "These are K'rell'n traders, visitors from a far world."
Chaf'orm'bintrano said something, his tone rather sharp. "In Sy Bisti, Aristocra, if you please," Thrawn said. "They do not understand Cheunh."
Chaf'orm'bintrano snorted, again in Cheunh, and the corners of Thrawn's mouth tightened briefly. "Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano is not interested in communicating with you at present," he translated. "One of my warriors will show you to your quarters." His eyes flicked to Car'das. "My apologies."
"No apologies needed, Commander," Car'das assured him, feeling a tightness in his throat as he gave Chaf'orm'bintrano an abbreviated bow. "None at all."
The rooms Thrawn had ordered for them were built along the same lines as their quarters aboard the Springhawk, though somewhat larger. There were also two sleeping rooms this time instead of one, with a common refresher station set between them. Qennto and Maris were shown to one of the rooms, while Car'das was taken to the other. Exploring his new quarters, Car'das discovered to his mild surprise that his clothing and personal effects had already been brought from his cabin on the Bargain Hunter and arranged neatly in the various storage drawers. Apparently, Thrawn was planning an extended stay for them.
He paced the floor for a while, trying not to think about Chaf'orm'bintrano and his unconcealed disapproval of their presence in Chiss territory. An hour later a silent warrior arrived at his door with a meal on a tray. Car'das briefly considered checking on Qennto and Maris, decided they could come find him if they wanted his company, and ate his meal alone.
Afterward, he sat down at the computer station and tried the procedure Thrawn had taught them aboard the Springhawk for accessing the Cheunh vocabulary lists. The procedure worked on this computer, too, and he settled down to study.
It was five hours later, and he was dozing at the computer station, when another Chiss finally came to fetch him.
He was taken to a darkened room that was a close double of the Springhawk's Forward Visual Triangulation Site. In this case the wide viewport looked out into the docking cavern outside, and Car'das could see the distant glow of drive engines as a vessel made its way toward the exit tunnel. "Good evening, Car'das," Thrawn said from one of the seats to the side of the room. "I trust you had a productive day."
"Reasonably productive, yes," Car'das said, going over and sitting down beside him. "I worked ahead a little on my language lessons."
"Yes, I know," Thrawn said. "I wanted to apologize to you for Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano's lack of courtesy."
"I'm sorry he took a dislike to us," Car'das said, trying to be diplomatic. "I enjoyed the welcoming ceremony, and was looking forward to seeing more of how the Chiss do things."
"It was nothing personal," Thrawn assured him. "Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano considers your presence here a threat to the Ascendancy."
"May I ask why?"
Thrawn shrugged fractionally. "To some people, the unknown always represents a threat."
"Sometimes they're right," Car'das conceded. "On the other hand, you Chiss seem quite capable of taking care of yourselves in a fight."
"Perhaps," Thrawn said. "There are times when I wonder.
Tell me, do you understand the concept of neutralizing a potential enemy before that enemy can launch an attack against you?"
"You mean like a preemptive strike?" Car'das asked. "Certainly."
"It's widespread among your people, then?"
"I'm not sure widespread is the right word," Car'das hedged. "I know there are people who consider it immoral."
"Do you?"
Car'das grimaced. He was twenty-three years old, and he worked for a smuggler who liked to tweak Hutts. What did he know about the universe? "I think that if you're going to do something like that, you need to make very sure they're a genuine threat," he said slowly. "I mean, you need to have evidence that they were actually planning to attack you."
"What about someone who may not plan to attack you personally, but is constantly attacking others?"
It was pretty obvious where this was going. "You mean like the Vagaari?" Car'das asked.
"Exactly," Thrawn confirmed. "As I told you, they have not yet attacked Chiss territory, and military doctrine dictates they must therefore be ignored. Do the beings they prey on have any claim on our military strength, or must we simply stand aside and watch as they are slaughtered or enslaved?"
Car'das shook his head. "You're asking questions that have been argued since civilization began." He stole a look at the commander's profile. "I take it you and Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano disagree on this point?"
"I and the entire Chiss species disagree on this point," Thrawn said, a note of sadness in his voice. "Or so it often seems. I'm relieved to hear that the question isn't as clear-cut for others as it is for our Ruling Families."
"Did you tell the Aristocra about the Vagaari ship?" Car'das asked. "There seemed to be plunder in there from a lot of different species."
"I did, and he wasn't particularly impressed," Thraw
n said. "For him, the defensive-only doctrine admits to no exceptions."
"What if some of those victims were species you know?" Car'das suggested. "Friends, or even just trading partners? Would that make a difference?"
"I doubt it," Thrawn said thoughtfully. "We do little trading outside our borders. Still, it might be useful to examine the treasure in detail." He cocked his head. "Would you be interested in assisting?"
"Of course," Car'das said. "Though I don't know what help I would be."
"You might recognize some of the artifacts," Thrawn said, standing up. "If they also prey on worlds of your Republic, you may have additional data that would be useful."
"In that case, you should also invite Maris and Qennto along," Car'das said, standing up as well. "They've traveled a lot more than I have."
"A good suggestion," Thrawn said as he led the way toward the exit. "That will also give Captain Qennto a chance to choose which of the items he'll wish to keep for himself" He smiled slightly. "Which will in turn help establish the relative values of the items."
"You're not cynical at all, are you, Commander?" Car'das said.
"I merely understand how others think and react," Thrawn said, his smile fading. "Perhaps that's why I have so much difficulty with a philosophy of waiting instead of acting."
"Perhaps," Car'das said. "For whatever it's worth, I doubt the people you'd be taking action to help would see any moral problems with it."
"True," Thrawn agreed. "Though their gratitude might be short-lived."
"Sometimes," Car'das conceded. "Not always."
8
With a sigh, Obi-Wan shut off his comlink and slipped it back into his belt. "Still nothing?" Anakin asked.
"No," Obi-Wan said, throwing a look at the darkening sky. The stars were starting to appear, and all around them house lights were coming on as families settled in for the evening.
Anakin muttered something under his breath. "We should have tried calling her earlier."
"We did try calling her earlier," Obi-Wan told him. "You were just too busy playing with Duefgrin's swoop to notice."
"Excuse me, Master, but I was working, not playing," Anakin said stiffly. "The Brolf we're looking for is named Jhompfi, he lives in the Covered Brush house ring, and he's supposedly using the burst thrusters on a speeder bike he uses to smuggle rissle sticks out to the Karts."
Obi-Wan stared at his Padawan. "When did you get all that?"
"When you were wandering around the neighborhood looking for clues," Anakin said. It was hard to sound hurt and smug at the same time, but the boy managed to pull it off "Those were the only times he'd talk to me." He wrinkled his rose. "I don't think he trusts grown-ups very much."
"You should have said something the minute you had that information," Obi-Wan said tartly, slipping the guide card into his datapad and keying for a house ring search. "Or hadn't it occurred to you that Lorana might be in trouble?"
"No, but it occurred to me that if we left too suddenly, Duefgrin might have called Jhompfi and warned him," Anakin retorted.
"Mind your place, Padawan," Obi-Wan warned the boy. It was a warning he seemed to be delivering more and more often these days.
Anakin gave a theatrical sigh. "My apologies, Master."
A map appeared on the datapad's display, showing the way to the Covered Brush house ring. "There it is," Obi-Wan said, angling the datapad so that Anakin could see.
"That's not the direction he was going when he left Duefgrin," Anakin pointed out uneasily.
"I know," Obi-Wan said grimly. "But right now, it's all we've got. Let's go take a look."
The neighborhood where the Covered Brush house ring was located was similar to many Obi-Wan had seen in his journeys around the Republic. It was poor but clean, a place where the people worked hard for what little they had but nevertheless worked equally hard to maintain their pride and dignity.
Some Jedi, he knew, treated such places and people with disdain or condescension. For his own part, he far preferred them to Coruscant's upper-level inhabitants with their immensely greater wealth but shifting-sand ethics. Most of the people in these places were friendlier and more forthright, without hidden political agendas or the lust for position and power.
At the very least, if someone here wanted to stab someone, he used a knife and not a deceitful smile.
"Where do we start?" Anakin murmured as they stopped beside one of the hedges across the street from the building.
"You could start by staying out of my way," a voice murmured from somewhere behind them.
Obi-Wan spun around, his hand darting beneath his tunic to his lightsaber as a face rose from concealment behind a section of hedge they'd just passed.
One look was all he needed. "Hello, Riske," he said, releasing his grip on his lightsaber. "Imagine meeting you here."
"I could say the same thing," Riske said sourly, jerking his head toward his side of the hedge. "You want to step into my office a minute?"
Obi-Wan glanced around. There were only a few Brolfi still out in the gathering dusk, and none of them was looking in their direction. Tapping Anakin on the arm, he did a quick backward leap over the hedge. He landed in a crouch, Anakin right beside him.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Riske said as he waddled over to join them, keeping his head down. "What are you doing here?"
"We're looking for a Brolf named Jhompfi," Obi-Wan told him. "He had someone steal a pair of burst thrusters for him this afternoon. We were hoping to ask him why."
"While you're at it, you could also ask about the explosives that disappeared from a mining site one of his close friends was working at," Riske said darkly. "Or about the stabilization system another friend apparently borrowed from his boss's hobby swoop, or the alloy packing cylinders that were lifted from another work site. You seeing a pattern here?"
Obi-Wan grimaced. "Someone's building a homemade missile."
"Or two or three of them," Riske said. "And it doesn't look like either of us will be able to ask Jhompfi about it, since he and all his friends seem to have disappeared."
"Wonderful," Obi-Wan said, peering over the hedge.
"Yeah, that's the word I was thinking," Riske said. "So what's your interest in him?"
"Our friend—the Padawan you ran into earlier—was following him," Obi-Wan said. "She's disappeared, and I can't raise her on the comlink."
"Too bad," Riske said. "Nice kid, but not much combat savvy."
"We're not ready to give up on her quite yet," Obi-Wan growled. "You have any idea where Jhompfi might have gone to ground?"
"If I did, I wouldn't be hanging around here," Riske countered. "I've got people checking out the Mining Guild centers, but if Jhompfi's not coming home I doubt he'd be stupid enough to go to any of them."
"So what do we do?" Anakin asked.
"What I'm going to do is head back to the hotel and make sure we've got our security set up," Riske said. "I'm figuring it'll come tonight—the duracrete slugs always disappear just before they drop the house on you."
"Or they might try for the city administration center tomorrow," Obi-Wan suggested.
"Unlikely," Riske said. "Jhompfi's hardly going to attack a place where his own guildmaster is busy negotiating for him. No, it's got to be the hotel, or maybe the route to the admin center in the morning."
Unfortunately, Riske's analysis made sense. "Okay," Obi-Wan said. "You tie down that end, and we'll keep looking for Lorana."
"Good luck." Riske shook his head. "You know, I almost planted a tracker on her earlier, just so I could make sure she was staying out of my way. I wish now I had."
"I wish you had, too," Obi-Wan said. "We'll just have to manage on our own."
"Jedi are supposed to be good at such things," Riske said, pulling out a data card and handing it over. "This'll give you a direct connection to my comlink, running it through one of our encryptions. Call me if you hear anything, okay?"
"I w
ill," Obi-Wan promised, sliding the card into his comlink pouch.
Riske nodded and moved away. He reached the far end of the hedge, glanced over it, then slipped back around and headed off at a brisk walk. "Now what?" Anakin asked.
"We'd better let Master C'baoth know what happened," Obi-Wan said reluctantly. "He and Lorana may be close enough for him to be able to detect her Force-signature."
"Maybe," Anakin said doubtfully as they returned to the end of the hedge and back onto the walkway. "You know, maybe we all should carry trackers."
Obi-Wan looked sideways at him. "I can think of at least one person who ought to have one," he muttered under his breath. "What was that?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Never mind."
C'baoth, when they finally raised him on the comlink, wasn't at all happy about being disturbed. He was even less happy when he heard their story "For the moment we'll pass over the fact that you involved yourself with the Barlok situation against my direct order," the Jedi Master rumbled, and Obi-Wan could imagine his eyes flashing from beneath his bushy eyebrows. "The important point right now is that you've put my Padawan at risk."
"I understand your anger, Master C'baoth—" Obi-Wan began.
"Anger?" C'baoth cut him off. "There is no anger, Master Kenobi. Not for a Jedi."
"My apologies," Obi-Wan said, trying hard to suppress some annoyance of his own. A situation like this, and all the man could do was recite Jedi canon? "It was an improper choice of words."
"Better," C'baoth rumbled. "What about you, Padawan Skywalker? Have you any thoughts?"
Obi-Wan angled the comlink toward the boy. "Not really, Master C'baoth," Anakin said. "Mostly, I'm concerned about Lorana's safety. I'm worried that she may have been killed."