Jaina stood directly behind her parents, her hand on the hilt of her lightsaber. She didn’t like being so far away from reinforcements in such an unknown situation, and having her weapon within constant reach went a long way toward easing her apprehensions. Everyone knew that the Ssi-ruuk were adept at mental coercion; who was to say that General Panib wasn’t a brainwashed slave intending to deliver the delegates from the Galactic Alliance to his masters at the first opportunity?
The presence of the P’w’eck didn’t particularly reassure her, either. In fact, when two more of the creatures had joined Lwothin, Jaina’s misgivings had intensified immediately. She assumed them to be bodyguards by the way they took up position behind Lwothin, although she had to admit they didn’t look any different in appearance from their superior. They wore odd-looking weapons fastened to their harnesses: flat disks with businesslike snouts protruding from one end. Paddle beamers, she assumed. The energy beams of such weapons couldn’t be deflected by lightsabers, but they could certainly be bent a little.
Lwothin himself did not have a physique that allowed him to sit on chairs like the others present, so he was sprawled out on an assortment of cushions at his appointed place around the table. This didn’t detract in any way from his intimidating mien.
“Blaine Harris, the Deputy Prime Minister, is on his way from Salis D’aar,” Panib said by way of preamble. “But we shall begin without him.”
“I wouldn’t say we’re a captive audience,” Han said, sitting restlessly at Leia’s side, “but we’re prepared to hear you out.”
“You’ve come at a very awkward time for us. I hardly know where to begin.”
“You could start with entechment,” Leia said.
“We know that you think it an abomination,” Lwothin said through C-3PO. “And I can sympathize with your feelings. My species has been exploited by it for thousands of years. We know its past evil.”
“Be that as it may,” Han said. “But I’ve seen plenty of slaves point the same weapons at their masters once they’d won their freedom.”
“I’ll admit the temptation was strong,” Lwothin said, his beak clicking together at the end of the short phrase. “But perhaps I should tell you the story of how we came to be here. Maybe then you will understand us better.”
Jaina saw her mother nod for him to continue, then settled back into the large, upright chair to listen.
“It has been almost thirty years since the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium waged war in this section of the galaxy,” he began. Jaina knew the story. Initially courted by Emperor Palpatine, the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium had expanded aggressively into Imperial territories, starting with Bakura. Unfortunately for the Ssi-ruuk, that advance had been immediately repelled by the local Imperial government, with the unlikely help of the Rebel Alliance. Further incursions into the galaxy were discouraged by the New Republic, which forced the Imperium back to its home-worlds. Nothing had been heard from them since. Jaina gathered that everyone assumed they either had learned the error of their ways, or were gradually stockpiling for a more determined surge.
Just like the Yevetha, she thought.
“In fact,” Lwothin said, “our former masters were assessing more than just their tactics in the wake of their defeat.” Ssi-ruuvi society was strictly clan-based, he explained, with each clan designated by the color of their scales. The absolute ruler was the Shreeftut, assisted by the Elders’ Council and the Conclave. The Conclave advised the Shreeftut on spiritual matters—another aspect of life considered very important by the Ssi-ruuk. Their belief system taught that the spirit of any Ssi-ruu who died away from a consecrated world would be lost forever. It was for that reason that the Ssi-ruuk preferred to use combat droids powered by the enteched souls of captives to fight their enemies rather than risk their own lives in battle.
“Entechment had served our masters well for many centuries. They had never seen any reason to change. The abhorrence with which you greeted the technology came as a complete surprise to them. They had assumed that all cultures would employ the same techniques. That you didn’t only underscored the novelty of the technology you did use: that of fusion and ordinary matter.
“Clearly the Rebel Alliance beat our former masters for more reasons than different technology, but that was one aspect they could focus on. They had seen Imperial and Rebel Alliance vessels in action above and around Bakura. They knew enough material physics to back-engineer the technology and re-create it in their laboratories. Within ten standard years, they possessed prototype hybrid vessels that employed your technology for shields and engines but were directed by enteched minds. With a significantly reduced drain on their life forces, such pilots existed much longer and in less agony than before.”
“But they were still enteched,” Han interrupted.
“Yes. The mind of every prototype droid fighter consisted of a soul stolen from the body of a P’w’eck. The fact that their suffering had been lessened was balanced by the fact that they suffered longer. The situation was still undeniably wrong.
“Into this time, the Keeramak was born.”
A new note entered the P’w’eck’s voice. It might have been fear, Jaina thought. Or maybe awe.
“What is this Keeramak?” Leia asked.
“It is hard to explain in terms that you might understand. You know that those of the Ssi-ruuk with blue scales ruled the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium, and that the gold-scales were our priests. Yellow-scales studied the sciences of matter and energy. Those with russet scales were our warriors, while those with green scales were workers. Below them, barely above my own species, were those resulting from a mixed or unsuccessful breeding: the brown-scales. Some suspected them of being the progenitors of the P’w’eck in ages past. Regarded as dim-witted and brutish, they were fit only for the most menial of lives. Many, especially those born of a forbidden union, were destroyed at birth.
“That was the world into which the Keeramak was born. It is important you understand this, because the Keeramak should not exist. One of a brood of brown-scale Ssi-ruuk, the Keeramak alone possessed color. But it does not just have one color: the Keeramak has all colors. That is what makes it unique among the Ssi-ruuk.”
Lwothin performed a complicated gesture involving the muscles of his tail and spine, as though shrugging his entire body. “That the Keeramak was a sport, a deviant birth, was clear. It had no clear gender, and its size was anomalous. But that was irrelevant. Its birth sent shock waves through the Ssi-ruuk. They place a great value on spiritual matters, as you know, and such a birth had been prophesied for millennia. The Keeramak, the birth of many colors, would be the one to take the oppressed and make them lords; the Keeramak would make the weak strong.”
“What you’re saying,” Han said, “is that the Ssi-ruuk embraced the Keeramak because they thought it would lead them to victory over us, right?”
“That is correct,” Lwothin said. “They raised it like a king, with every privilege and opportunity to learn and grow. The Keeramak soon proved to be exceptional in all respects: strong, intelligent, wise. It argued with the Shreeftut over the limitations of power, it challenged the Conclave on matters of theology, and it rivaled the Elders’ Council when it came to minor points of law. But ultimately it was the Keeramak’s compassion that was its greatest point—as well as the Ssi-ruuk’s undoing.”
“It chose you over them?” Leia asked.
“The Keeramak was the one who led us to victory over our former masters. It conceived our revolt and consolidated the aftermath. Within a year, Lwhekk was ours and the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium a thing of the past. And now, five years on, the Keeramak still guides our destiny.”
“Impressive,” Leia said. “Throwing off an oppressor is only the beginning of a long and difficult journey.”
Jaina nodded, knowing that her mother spoke from experience.
“In the wake of our liberation, we have continued research into entechment,” Lwothin said, through C-3PO. “We have found ways to nourish the stored minds rec
laimed during our revolution. The life energy distilled from concentrated banks of algae and other primitive life-forms can prevent the decay common to previous soul-captures. It also goes a long way toward staving off the discomfort many feel when enteched. Now that we have diverted much of the life-draining work to your forms of technology and reduced the strain on the enteched soul, we have reversed many of the wrongs forced upon captives and slaves in the past.
“The droid fighters you saw today are piloted by those enteched in the last days of the Imperium.” Lwothin’s triple eyelids blinked in a complicated manner. “Although we do continue to offer entechment as a form of military service, there are few who willingly sacrifice their physical lives. There’s no way back, of course. Such a decision is not lightly made.”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be,” Leia said as she faced General Panib.
From the tone of her mother’s voice, coupled with the set of her shoulders and the way she sat in the chair before her, Jaina could tell she wasn’t entirely convinced by Lwothin’s lengthy explanation—even though it did concur with the odd Force readings they’d had from the droid fighters.
“General Panib, have you seen anything to contradict Lwothin’s statement that no one has been enteched against his or her will?”
“None of us have been enteched, if that’s what you’re getting at,” the general said. “In fact, there have been no aggressive moves made against us whatsoever. Although …”
“What?” Han prompted, leaning forward slightly in his chair.
“Well, that’s something else we will need to talk about: why you’ve come at such a bad time. The P’w’eck arrived here two weeks ago, offering a treaty. Prime Minister Cundertol and the Senate deliberated for days before arriving at the decision to accept the offer. The Prime Minister’s announcement caused a few riots. It’s hard to explain to the general population that we haven’t sold them out.”
“I can understand that,” Han muttered.
“We thought the people were coming around,” Panib went on. “The defense advantages of joining with the P’w’eck are obvious, given the Yuuzhan Vong’s gradual drift this way. And we had a lot be grateful to them for, since they did get rid of the Ssi-ruuvi threat.” Panib fidgeted uneasily. “But there are complications—and conditions.”
“Such as?” Leia asked.
“Lwothin has mentioned religion; the P’w’eck are like the Ssi-ruuk in that they share some of the same traditions. In order to make them comfortable, there are details we have to attend to. Cundertol wanted this Keeramak of theirs to come to Bakura to sign the treaty in person, but he—it—wouldn’t come unless Bakura was consecrated. You see, it believes like the rest of the Ssi-ruuk that if it dies away from one of the sacred worlds, then its soul will be lost forever. And the fact is, assassination isn’t out of the question—especially given the volatile temperament of some of the public right now.” His glance to Lwothin was filled with apology. “We are neighbors; we must learn to trade and fight side by side. If Bakura and the P’w’eck are to work together, then we have to consider all our religious beliefs. We’d like them to feel safe enough to visit here. Toward this end, Cundertol managed to find a compromise: the Keeramak would come to Bakura to perform the consecration in person. The ceremony was planned for two days from now. That’s where things stood when—”
“When Prime Minister Cundertol disappeared,” interrupted a voice from the entrance to the chamber.
Jaina’s grip on her lightsaber tightened instinctively as she turned to see a tall, aging man in a scarlet robe approach the table. His face was long and angular, the bones beneath clearly showing. Two Bakuran guards closely shadowed him, rifles held firmly across their chests.
“Deputy Prime Minister Harris,” Panib said, standing. He sounded relieved. “Thank you for joining us.”
Harris indicated for Panib to return to his seat, then nodded to everyone else around the table by way of greeting. “Princess Leia, Captain Solo: it’s a pleasure to meet you again. And of course you, Lwothin.”
An attendant brought up a chair, and he sat between the P’w’eck and Leia.
“I apologize for the delay,” he said to Panib, “but there was a bomb threat at the main spaceport and I had to take a shuttle from Lesser Grace. As you can see,” he explained to the rest of the table, “we are suffering from a pronounced civil unrest. Not on behalf of the majority, I imagine, but rather a violent and unprincipled minority who think they know what’s best for Bakura. This minority has decided that the P’w’eck are no different from the Ssi-ruuk, and the Keeramak’s visit here is nothing more than an elaborate ruse that will result in the entechment of everyone. ‘Once an enemy, always an enemy’ is their maxim. There is simply no room for negotiation.” He clenched his fists helplessly on the table. His gaze fell upon Leia and Han. “I understand you have experienced interference from them already.”
“A secure transmission was interrupted by someone warning us away,” Leia said. “Whoever it was had access to comm channels that should have been restricted.”
“They are everywhere,” Harris said sourly. “As the consecration looms, their desperation increases. They have been behind at least five disruptions to subspace communications in the last fortnight. Kidnapping Molierre Cundertol was an act of suicidal bravado. It is strange but, while I have to condemn their methods, I can’t help admire their spirit.” He shook his head sadly. “Nevertheless, we will never negotiate with terrorists.”
“What about Cundertol?” Han asked. “Any idea where he’s being kept?”
“We’ll find out soon enough. Especially now that we have the terrorist leader in our hands.”
General Panib was clearly taken aback by this news. “Since when?”
“She was taken into custody shortly before I left to come here. We have her in a security holding cell, awaiting interrogation.”
“Is she—” Panib hesitated. “—who we suspected she was?”
“Malinza Thanas,” Harris answered with a smug smile. “Yes.”
The surprise in the room was palpable. Jaina knew the name. Malinza Thanas was the daughter of people her parents and Uncle Luke had met on Bakura the first time they’d visited. When Malinza’s parents had died, Luke and Mara had taken her on as a sponsor child, visiting her a couple of times. She’d heard nothing about the girl being a terrorist leader, however.
“Malinza?” Leia asked. “Are you certain of this?”
“There’s no doubt,” Harris stated. “She admits it herself.”
“She admits she kidnapped the Prime Minister?” Panib asked.
“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“When you say ‘interrogation’—”
“I don’t mean to imply torture, Princess,” Harris said. “We are a civilized people, and it would take more than a little civil unrest to reduce us to savages.”
“This doesn’t add up.” Han was shaking his head. “Whoever we spoke to when we arrived warned us away because they thought we were after your ships. They implied that the P’w’eck were your allies. But that contradicts what you’ve just told us about the terrorists. If they’re anti-P’w’eck they wouldn’t want any association with them at all.”
“What can I say? They are confused and directionless, their aims unclear even to themselves.” Harris shrugged dismissively. “We have suffered at the hands of such isolationist groups ever since the overthrow of the Empire. There are indeed those who resent the intrusion of the New Republic into our affairs. Some of these may have allied themselves with the anti-P’w’eck movement to gain the illusion of numbers. Such people won’t be happy until Bakura stands alone against the rest of the galaxy—and inevitably falls alone, too.”
“So what now?” Panib asked.
“The first thing, General, is to put our house in order. While we look for the Prime Minister, I suggest we end martial law and begin preparations for the consecration. The treaty depends on it; the Prime Minister would
not want it delayed for anything. With your permission, I shall convene the Senate and get things moving.”
“Of course.” The general’s relief was obvious. “There’s not much time, and a lot to be done.”
Lwothin spoke up. “ ‘We understand that this is a difficult time for you,’ ” C-3PO translated,” ‘and we are grateful for your continued efforts to bring our governments together.’ ” The P’w’eck’s beak snapped emphatically.” ‘I will convey my assurances to the Keeramak that all is in order and the ceremony will go ahead as planned.’ ”
“Thank you, my friend.” Blaine Harris inclined his head in the direction of the P’w’eck ambassador. “And you, of course,” he added to Han and Leia, “are very welcome to attend also. I’m sure it will be a fascinating glimpse into a culture we’ve theorized about for many years, but never had the opportunity to see with our own eyes.”
“We’d be honored,” Leia said. “The Galactic Federation of Free Alliances will be very interested to observe the ceremony.”
General Panib stood, and the others around the table followed suit. “I hope you won’t be offended if I call this meeting to an end, but I have urgent matters to discuss with the Deputy Prime Minister.”
“Of course.” Leia accepted the explanation with her usual diplomatic aplomb. “And thank you for taking the time to explain the situation here. There are still some aspects I’d like to discuss in more detail at a later date, if possible.”
“It would be my pleasure to accommodate you,” the general said. He spoke and moved with a confidence that had been lacking before the Deputy Prime Minister’s news. “And I shall ensure that Salis D’aar spaceport is secured for your arrival. Hopefully with Thanas in custody, the situation will cool down a little now.”
Refugee: Force Heretic II Page 6