that the charismatic leaders name came up in conversation more and more
frequently, yet he knew little about the Twi'lek woman.
The two Wookiees finally reached the - top of the tower and perched
themselves comfortably on the creaking metal latticework, letting their feet
dangle. Lowie relaxed into the sense of peace and safety he always felt when he
was up high, as high as the tops of the wroshyr trees on Kashyyyk.
His ribs still stung, but he ignored the pain.
Raaba touched Lowie's arm and pointed to a feathered. avian that swooped
and dove around the tower, snatching irides cent flying insects from the air.
Then she continued with her story.
The compassionate, visionary Twi'lek woman, Nolaa Tarkona, had frightened
Raaba at first. Her lone twitching head-tail and stern features intimidated the
young Wookiee. But Nolaa had asked nothing of her and had seen to it that Raaba
had the best of medical attention.
When Raaba was fully recovered, the Twi'lek had offered her a place to
stay, a ship of her own, intensive pilot training, and a job flying for the
Diversity Alliance and helping to spread the word about the idealistic new
movement. The opportunity was everything Raaba had hoped for, and she gratefully
accepted. She came to admire Nolaa Tarkona, to identify with her fiery
enthusiasm, her single-minded pursuit of her goals.
Day by day Raaba learned more about the atrocities that humans, whether in
service to an empire or a republic, inflicted on the alien species of the galaxy
all alien species. As Lowie listened uneasily, Raaba described many examples of
the torture or enslavement of aliens by humans. She explained how Nolaa Tarkona
believed that by banding together, the nonhuman races could put a stop to such
practices and protect themselves. In their unity, in their diversity, lay their
strength against the oppressors.
Nodding his shaggy head, Lowie agreed that it did sound like a worthy
cause, to help the many downtrodden species recover from the damage inflicted by
the prejudiced. and evil Emperor. He and his friends, Jacen, Jaina, and Tenel Ka
had often banded together to fight for an important cause or against a common
enemy, he told Raaba, and they had always been stronger together.
Flashing him a dubious look, Raaba pointed out that humans could not always
be trusted, and that deception came in many forms.
The remark hurt. Lowie trusted' his friends as much as he had always
trusted Raaba and Sirra. Brushing down the dark streak of fur over his eyebrow,
he asked mildly if letting friends think you were dead--letting them spend
months mourning you and grieving for you--was one of the forms that deception
came in.
Raaba groaned at the rebuke, admitting in a pained growl that she had been
unfair to Lowie and Sirra and to her own family.
She had been reluctant to go back to Kashyyyk, however, until she had made
something of herself, something she could be proud of. She wanted to return home
successful and triumphant, a Wookiee hero.
She refused to be seen as a coward who could not finish what she set out to
do.
Now, with her work for the Diversity Alliance, she felt proud of who she
had become, and things were changing.
Then her voice sank almost to a whisper and she apologized for leaving
Lowie, for all the pain she had caused him.
Lowie nodded mutely and traced a finger along the trimmed fur at Rabba's
wrist and knee. He thought of his sister Sirra and how she, too, still felt the
pain of a lost friend. He 'couldn't wait to bring Raaba back home. It would be a
fine celebration.
Far below, a pair of avians chased each other through the rusted
latticework and darted out the other side. Almost as if she could read his
thoughts, Raaba turned her hand palm-upward to grasp Lowie's and assured him
that she would no longer hide behind a lie. She had important work to do,
important work for the Diversity Alliance, and that required her to stop hiding.
command such devotion.
THE WORLD OF Chroma Zed boasted the most spectacular amphitheater
facilities Nolaa Tarkona had ever seen.
A broad balcony served as a speaking platform, the absolute center of
attention halfway down a sheer cliff face. The balcony podium was bracketed on
either side by a bifurcated waterfall--two streams of rushing water that
slithered down the cliff to join again in a churning pool far below.
Cold, damp spray surrounded the platform, reeking of chemicals.
Nolaa would have found the water undrinkable, had she been inclined to try
it; so contaminated was the water with natural petroleum from oil seeps,
bubbling black pools near the source of the river, that the tumbling falls were
coated with a sheen of oil.
Huddled in cliffside galleries, the gathered Chromans watched and listened.
Tossing her writhing head-tail over her shoulder, Nolaa scanned the thousands of
faces perhaps tens of thousands--that poked out, while the remainder of the
Chroman's bodies hid in the shadows.
They were wormlike humanoids with smooth heads, smooth skin, and webbed
hands. They burrowed into mountainsides and chose homes near trickling water to
keep themselves perpetually moist. Their eyes were huge and round, their mouths
lipless and quivering.
When Nolaa stepped up to the podium to speak to them, the Chromans raised
their voices in a thundering, bubbling cheer.
The Empire had enslaved the Chromans as miners, using their natural
propensity for burrowing to harvest mineral resources on hellish planets. On
each slave world, the Imperials had made a practice of choosing one random
Chroman as an example, to ensure the cooperation of the rest. They would drag
the unlucky specimen out of the group's damp and comfortable tunnels and then
make a great show of fastening the victim onto a sunbaked rock, where it would
writhe and desiccate under the heat, oozing protective body slime until all its
moisture reserves ran out, leaving only a mummified husk.
Such were the excesses that humans visited upon all alien species, Nolaa
Tarkona thought. She bit. down hard, grinding her sharpened teeth together.
Before she started her much-anticipated speech, two pale Chromans emerged
at the very top of the cliff, near where the tumbling waterfalls plunged over
the edge.
They carried torches high in their topmost hands, keeping the hot flames as
far as possible from their sensitive wet skin. The pair of Chromans squirmed
forward to toss the flaming brands onto the oil-slicked water.
The flames caught and traveled quickly.
A sheet of fire spread, covering the surface of the water with blazing
color. Twin molten banners of glory unfurled as the fiery streams surged down
the cliffside to celebrate-Nolaa Tarkona, leader of the Diversity Alliance,
their most revered speaker.
The flames blazed, the Chromans cheered, and Nolaa raised her voice.
"My esteemed colleagues, my dear friends, those who have also felt the
crushing weight of human persecution you do me great
honor." She was well aware
of the spectacular image she must have presented, framed by streams of fire.
"Looking at you all, thinking of the past and what you have suffered, I
know how your memories must have left scars on your hearts, on your entire
civilization. But it truly saddens me to tell you that your story is not
dissimilar to what has happened to my own people, to the Calamarians, to the
Bothans, to the Ugnaughts, to the Rodians to practically every alien species in
the galaxy. It makes me weep. But the fire of my anger evaporates all of my
tears."
Nolaa fell silent for a moment, respecting the memory of the tortured and
the dead.
"And let us not forget the treatment of the Wookiees, enslaved for their
brawn and their mechanical abilities; or the Noghri, whose planet was devastated
and their people forced to become killers, or the Ithorians, whose verdant and
sacred jungles were burned, purely out of spite.
"Too many others of our kindred have suffered at the hands of the human-
loving Empire. We must put a stop to the human reign of terror." Tarkona let her
piercing gaze travel around the galleries, making eye contact with individual
Chromans whenever possible.
"You know the truth of my words. Over the centuries, humans have brought us
sorrow in countless ways."
Shouts and howls of outrage exploded from the gathered Chromans as they
vented their frustration at the years of oppression and senseless slaughter.
"And yet--" She waited for them to quiet down enough that she could be
heard.
"And yet... that very sorrow has been a harsh and effective teacher. We
must remember what we have learned, and never allow it to happen again?
Murmurs of anticipatory excitement rippled through the galleries.
Nolaa Tarkona gauged her audience, sensing when they were ready for her to
go on.
"Now, humans must come to experience the full extent of our pain... and
share in it. Only in that way can they ever truly understand what they have
done. By sharing our sorrows with them, we can lessen those sorrows. Humans must
understand in their hearts that we will no longer bow to their aggression."
She filled her voice with all the unwavering fervor of her convictions. Her
remaining head-tail thrashed with agitation. "And sharing our knowledge and our
strength can lead to release, for all alien species. To freedom from the tyranny
of all humans--for all time."
Thousands of Chroman faces leaned forward, hungry for her next words.
"Join me in my Diversity Alliance, and we need never fear enslavement
again!"
The crowd roared.
Now that she had finished, Nolaa felt her own heart beating with the
passion of her belief. She understood the terror of this species, of all
oppressed species. She felt their anger, their need for revenge--a revenge that
she and the Diversity Alliance could provide... if only all races from all
species would work together to demand the respect and autonomy that was
rightfully theirs. She stared at the crowd, and it seemed to her that the number
of wormlike spectators had doubled since she'd begun her speech.
High up on the cliffside, out of view, several Chroman workers operated a
dam mechanism that shut off the flow of water to the split streams of the
waterfall. The fiery water slowed to a trickle, then stopped as the last
feathers of flame fell into the pool below, where they burned themselves out.
After a few moments' pause, the workers opened the dams again--this time at
full force. Foaming white water stampeded over the edge, still smelling of
chemicals.
Nolaa Tarkona raised her clawed hands, and all the Chromans cheered wildly,
welcoming her as their savior. She would do her best to live up to that
expectation, no matter what it might take.
ON THE PLAGUE-RIDDEN colony world of Gammalin, Boba Fett strode from the
doorway, extending his blaster as he approached his captive.
Zekk could read no expression on the helmet-encased face, but he sensed a
tension and a wariness in the bounty hunter's movements. Fett stalked forward,
as dangerous as a tightly coiled spring.
"I recognized your ship as it flew over," Boba Fett said. "You are the one
who fired on me in the Alderaan rubble field." He paused.
"Few have shot at me and lived."
Zekk knew his own expression must be murky and inscrutable behind the
faceplate of his environment suit. "You were trying to kill my friends. I only
defended them."
Boba Fett stood straight, as if taken aback. He raised his blaster pistol a
little, slightly off target from Zekk. "Then you fired upon me with honor," he
said. "Understandable."
Zekk couldn't believe what he was hearing, but through his Force senses he
could tell that Fett was sincere. He took a gamble.
"I wasn't trying to steal your bounty, you know. I'm a bounty hunter, too,"
he said boldly. "I'm still in training... but I have my first assignment."
"And is your assignment the same as mine?" he said. "To find Bornan Thul?
If so, we are rivals."
Zekk chose the safest response, while still answering truthfully.
"No, I got my assignment from a three-armed bartender on Borgo Prime.
Droql told me to find one of his scavengers, Fonterrat, who supposedly came
to this colony. Unfortunately, it looks like my lead was a dead end that is, it
looks as if everyone is dead."
Fett snapped up his blaster pistol, then holstered it. "Your mission does
not conflict with mine. No bounty hunter may kill another on a hunt unless they
are direct rivals Bounty Hunters Creed. I will not harm you."
"Then why did you shoot at me?" Zekk asked. Gradually he lowered his hands
from his gesture of surrender.
"Had I truly intended to hit you, I would have succeeded," Boba Fett said.
Zekk shuffled his booted feet, uncomfortable to be surrounded by one deadly
bounty hunter and hundreds of unburied colonists killed by some unknown disease.
"So... do we go our separate ways then?
I need to find information about my bounty."
Fett marched up to Zekk. "No. We stay together. There is little enough to
search in this town, and either of us might find valuable information."
"Aren't you afraid of catching the plague through your helmet?" Zekk said.
"My sensors indicate that the plague organism has died out," Fett answered.
"I deduce that the strain was fast-burning and short-lived."
Zekk didn't question the statement. "In any case, my helmet is airtight."
They sought out the spaceport's traffic control tower on the assumption
that travel records might help them to unravel the mystery of the last days of
Gammalin.
Since the turbolifts were inoperable, they climbed the clanging metal steps
to the peak of the tower.
Giant windows cut into the walls of the circular chamber alternated with
dead gray computer screens that had once displayed flight paths. Three bodies
clad in rough uniforms sat slumped on chairs, gray-skinned and covered with the
green and blue plague blotches. Imagining the stench of death inside that hot,
enclosed chamber, - Zekk was g
lad he had kept his suit helmet on.
Boba Fett nonchalantly yanked a body out of one chair as if it were no more
than dirty laundry, then seated himself in front of a terminal. Zekk took his
position at another screen, happy to see that the backup systems and the power
grid remained functional. After a rapid search, he began to download the last
few files in the logbooks.
Silently, Fett searched for details known only to him, while Zekk scanned
the arrival records for any indication of a visitor named Fonterrat. In the
oppressive silence, he turned to the other bounty hunter.
"What led you here to this planet?"
"A rumor... a hunch... a partially restored bit of data from a damaged
file."
Given that half the bounty hunters in the galaxy were out searching for
Thul now, Zekk figured it was the best answer he could expect. "Well, it looks
like I found the record of my target," he said, spotting an arrival document
naming Fonterrat.
He played the record, which showed the docking of the scavenger's ship as
well as a manifest of its cargo. Zekk was pleased to note that the bartender's
ronik shells were still on the list.
Within hours of Fonterrat's arrival, though, the plague had begun to spread