Chapter 8
From space Alderaan looked like a jewel. And a jewel it was, beautiful and precious. Ananké's heart ached as she watched her home planet grow as they neared in a shuttle. It was bound for Crevasse City, her hometown and one of the best vacation spots on the planet. Crevasse was famous for its hotels and restaurants.
The atmosphere gave the planet a bluish hue, but she knew that it was actually brilliantly green. It had no major oceans or mountain formations, only gentle hills and wide plains of grass with the occasional forest or swamp. There were literally thousands of kinds of grass in countless colours and fragrances.
The white clouds swirled beneath them, then around them and suddenly, swerving a herd of Thrantas, they must be the only ones who didn't acknowledge the right of imperial vessels to go first everywhere, Ananké thought smiling, the shuttle flew over an endless sea of green. The plains really looked like an ocean, the wind even moved the grass to look like waves. Ananké had to fight back sudden tears. Everything that had happened in the last months had made her fear that she'd never see Alderaan again, or worse, that she would come back and feel nothing.
A short time later they touched down on a landing-pad over Crevasse. As soon as the ramp went down Ananké raced out of the shuttle and flung herself with a whoop of joy headfirst from the shallow durasteel platform into the soft grass surrounding it. She closed her eyes and deeply inhaled the wonderfully alive and earthy smell before turning around to lay on her back to exhale and feel the sun on her skin.
When she opened her eyes she saw Admiral Thrawn looking down at her, arms crossed in front of his chest and with a slightly amused expression on his face.
Ananké grinned embarrassedly and got up.
"Well, I think I'll go and see how Estiphe has been doing."
"I still think that you'd be better protected if you'd stay in a hotel."
Ananké rolled her eyes.
"I can get my friend Ob Khaddar to protect me."
"And what is he, a Wookiee," Thrawn asked raising his eyebrows.
"No, better. He's a Dug. And yes, he's an artist; he makes the most amazing grass-paintings."
With that Ananké gave a little wave and went to find her mentor. She planned to have a little chat with her.
Estiphe Cheroder looked up from her work when she heard the door chime. Who could it be? Puzzled, she went to the door and opened it.
"Ananké!"
"Hello, Estiphe."
Something in her former ward's voice and expression made her stop the attempt to hug her. Instead she gave a little nervous smile.
"Come in, dear."
Ananké nodded and followed her to the living room.
"How was Coruscant ?" she asked to break the silence.
Ananké seemed to think carefully about her answer and Estiphe couldn't help being nervous because of it. Something wasn't right.
"It was enlightening," she said at last.
"Yes, I suppose it would be. Have you met anybody interesting?"
"Oh yes, lots of people. Therana Iskranfe, the daughter of a Moff, for example. She's one of the two people who kept me sane. The other is an admiral of the Imperial. Thrawn is rather unique, he's from the unknown regions and nobody seems to know his species. And he loves art. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the most important of them all … my father."
Estiphe couldn't hold back a gasp. Ananké threw her a piercing look.
"You knew."
The older woman averted her eyes and nodded.
"You knew and never told me!"
Estiphe looked back up.
"Your mother and I thought it would be best."
Livia Inverres had been a good friend, her best. In their early childhood they had been inseparable, but the bond had been severed when the Jedi had taken Livia to Coruscant to study. Not even her own parents had been allowed to visit. They had met again after the Jedi had cast her out, Estiphe had helped her to adjust – Livia hadn't known anything other than the Jedi Order since then, but she had been a wise and knowledgeable woman who always helped Estiphe with tricky decisions.
When Livia had hidden from the Purge they remained in contact, and when the Jedi Healer decided to become one with the Force she had taken her daughter in, had tried to raise her like an Alderaanian, had succeeded in many ways. Ananké had become an artist and a true lover of living things.
Angry words made her snap out of her reverie.
"But didn't I deserve to know the truth?"
Estiphe turned her head back towards her surrogate daughter.
"Has that truth brought you any happiness?"
Ananké leaped from her seat and started pacing the room.
"Happiness? Hardly. He tried to twist and mold me from the first time we met. Tried to turn me into his own image. Had Vader - Vader of all people - and some agent, who is now after my blood by the way, train me. He granted me a little reprieve until that mess is sorted out, but then I'm expected to go back to them, maybe even help him with that devilish plan of his…"
Estiphe got up too.
"What plan," she asked sharply.
"His personal slave, a Mon Calamari named Ackbar, was able to a look at some files. The Empire is building a space station equipped with a laser strong enough to vaporize a whole planet in one shot."
Estiphe could do nothing but stare at Ananké.
"So it's true," she whispered.
"So it seems."
"You must tell me everything you know. We've tried to get this kind information for ages."
"We? Oh, I see, the rebellion."
Estiphe wasn't sure if it had been a good idea to tell Ananké of her ties to the Alliance. But if she couldn't trust her, then whom could she? She hoped Ananké hadn't forgotten her teachings.
"I can't tell you any specifics about the project, but I know the flight date and the route of Tarkin's personal convoy to the shipyard. If you can organize an interdictor cruiser, you could waylay him somewhere. Ackbar will be with him, he's been in Tarkin's service for years and assembled a lot of knowledge; he'll be of much help, if he can be freed. He's very keen on joining you."
"Then tell me the date!"
Ananké just shook her head.
"You can't risk having any records of this. Is Princess Leia on planet at the moment?"
Estiphe nodded.
"Contact her aide, a woman named Winter. This information would be safest with her. Tell her to meet me somewhere in the plains. That will reduce the risk of somebody eavesdropping on us."
Estiphe sighed.
"Now tell me how you've been. I'm sorry about never telling you the truth; I just wanted you to have a chance at a normal life."
Ananké collapsed back into the couch.
"I'm completely exhausted. I was homesick the whole time, had nobody I could trust, the air was stale and polluted and I was miserable at everything my so-called teachers tried to teach me. I mean, it's been months and I hardly know one end of a lightsaber from the other. I won't even get into my piloting or shooting skills."
Estiphe sat down beside her and folded her long arms around her.
"I'll find a way for you to disappear. You won't have to go back."
The girl in her arms started to shake silently and she needed a moment to realize that she was crying. She didn't look good either, all pale and drawn. The bones were simply too visible. How could Tarkin do something like that to his own daughter? It may have been wrong not to tell Ananké about her parents, but it certainly had been the right decision not to tell him that he had a daughter. Ananké was highly intelligent and had a rather devious mind, it was terrible to think what Tarkin would have turned her into if he had been able to control her from her infancy.
She just had to get Ananké away from Coruscant. They had done enough to her there.
A few days later Ananké watched Winter's speeder disappear in the distance. Now the deed was done, she had turned traitor on her father, very likely signed his death warrant with telling the rebels how to get to him. She returned to her own vehicle and started the engine.
The talk with Estiphe a few days ago had been rather painful. She had always trusted her, had admired and loved her. She wasn't her mother, of course, but she had been the most important person in her life. And she had known. Couldn't she have warned her? Warned her to stay away from all of that? Ananké suddenly realized that Estiphe had done just that, she had been less than glad when her arts tutor had asked Ananké to go to Coruscant with her works. She had tried to dissuade her in every way possible. But she had been pigheaded and stupid. Too blinded to see behind the glittering possibilities, behind the adventure of it all. And now she had to suffer the consequences. She had been in over her head right from the moment she had walked into Tixor's gallery. And in a few days she had to go back to all of that.
Time to see a friendly face. She had tried to find out what Ob was up to, but his current project was kind of top secret. Thankfully she'd been able to find out where he was currently working.
She could see it from far away, a space of naked earth in the endless grass. When she had parked her speeder, well, Estiphe's actually, on the edge of the field, she got out and started to look for her friend.
They had met at the university, where both of them were outsiders; he, because he was the only one of his kind studying arts and she because of her slightly antisocial nature. In many ways they were the complete opposite of each other, Ob with his head filled with nonsense and his fiery temperament and the quiet and rather rational Ananké.
It wasn't easy to spot the small, brown skinned Dug in the soil; the fact that said soil covered a lot of him didn't make finding him any easier. But when she finally reached out with the force she suddenly knew where he was. Careful not to step on freshly planted seed Ananké strolled over to her best friend.
"Hey."
He looked up and fathomless black eyes met her own. Suddenly a wide, toothy smile appeared on his horse-like face.
"Didn't think I'd see you again."
His small, thin body was deceptive, he had muscles like steel-wires and the reaction time of a Jedi. Like all Dugs. Ananké hadn't been joking when she had told Thrawn that he would be able to protect her.
"Yeah, I'm back. But there's the little problem of an imperial agent trying to get my head on a platter. First I almost killed her and then I saved her life, I'm not exactly sure which of the two she's madder about."
Ob Khaddar clicked and stomped something in his native language that didn't sound exactly polite.
"Just let her come. She won't get past me. I'm not the sportiest of us Dugs, but I'm still way quicker than humans. No offence."
"Non taken. I've seen you in action far too often."
Ob gave some kind of shrug.
"It's hardly my fault if these core-world idiots think I'm small and helpless."
"Well, you can't really blame them. The Empire frowns upon schools that teach about other races than humans. But it's fun to see their faces if when you sit on their chests in five seconds flat pulling their ears and clicking at them."
The toothy grin was back. Ob was rather mild tempered, but since he was a Dug that was only relative.
"What are you working at?"
"Well, I guess if I can tell anyone, it's you. The Emperor is due to visit in two weeks, so the government thought that somebody should make a grass painting in his honour. I applied, and since I'm the best who applied, I was chosen to do it."
Ananké blinked.
"You? You are making a grass painting in Palpatine's honour?"
Ob did some mischievous sounding clicking.
"Ah, but do you see these," he held up some seeds, a strange looking action, since Dugs had hands and feet reversed, "they will only need one week to grow and will bloom for two. They are for the face and the hood. And these," he held up different seeds, "will take the same time to grow but last only for one week; they are for his eyes. And last but not least, these black lilies here open after two weeks. Do you understand?"
"I think so. You want the painting to change the day the Emperor arrives. And black lilies... Ob! You wouldn't dare!"
"To paint him exactly how he's like? I would and I did."
"Are you suicidal?"
He snorted.
"Hardly. I made arrangements with some smugglers to hide me."
Ananké rolled her eyes.
"And do you really think that scum will keep you hidden when the Emperor puts an astronomical bounty on your head? How can you be so stupid?"
Ob let his face droop sheepishly.
"Oops. Didn't think…"
Ananké was on a roll now.
"No you didn't! You hardly ever do! You and your nerf-brained schemes, always getting yourself into trouble! And I'm always the one who has to save your skinny ass!"
"Hey, what are friends for?"
Ananké narrowed her eyes and growled. Ob Khaddar sighed.
"I'm sorry. I just was so excited about my plan…"
"… that you didn't think about the consequences properly. Oh well, I might know someone who might help. We can't let him know the whole truth though. He is an Imperial Admiral after all."
"You know an Imperial Admiral?"
Ananké just shook her head.
"Long story, I'll tell you later. Now go back to planting your seeds, the sooner you're finished, the sooner you can go and hide. I'll go and test the waters with Thrawn."
"You really should reconsider your choice in friends."
The little artist turned around quickly but didn't seem surprised to see him. It hadn't been difficult to find her, Thrawn just had to fly to the place from which she had painted most of her landscapes. He had thought that it was very likely that she would return there to think, and he had been right. He sat down in the grass in front of her.
"I'm starting to see what you mean," she sighed.
"I studied his works. Ob Khaddar is extremely talented, if a little misguided," Thrawn said with a smile.
"Misguided in which way?"
"He's telling the truth as he sees it, never caring how dangerous that could be."
"Tell me about it," Ananké said sarcastically.
"I take it this isn't the first ... ill-considered plan?"
"Hardly. What do you know about his plan anyway?"
"As I said, I studied his past works, found out what his current project was and came to the conclusion that he will be very likely in trouble. I'm curious, how did he think to escape?"
She sighed again.
"Since it won't make much of a difference, I might as well tell you. He hired some smugglers to get him away from Alderaan and hide him somewhere. But you can't rely on smugglers if your adversary has more money."
"So I suppose you want me to help him."
"Well, you hinted time and again that you didn't agree with the persecution of artists."
"Hm... perhaps. Well, in any case I think persecuting this fool would be a waste of recources. He may be rebellious, but he isn't a danger to the Empire. He will become one if we make a martyr out of him, so this should be avoided. If he's forced to stay in hiding by a bounty on his head he should stay quiet, and if he isn't persecuted by Imperial troops the Rebels won't care either. He'll simply be forgotten. I'll see to it that he's given a bit of a head start."
Ananké pressed her lips together and nodded. She seemed tense.
"I suppose you expected more," Thrawn asked with a raised eyebrow.
The little artist looked at him and shook her head.
"No. I was thinking about something else. Giving Ob some breathing space is all that's needed; Dugs are survivors."
"Do you think he'll return to Malastaire?"
"No. He isn't exactly liked there. He's kind-hearted and can get quite philosophical. If you know Dugs in general you can tell that he's rather unusual."
They sat for a while watching the sun set in a riot of colours. Something had happened to Ananké. She had seemed so exuberant when they had arrived on Alderaan, but now she seemed dejected – no, apprehensive. Maybe she was afraid of going back to Coruscant?
"You should return to Imperial Center as soon as possible. I was informed that Mara Jade returned to duty this morning. She is on the way to her next assignment now, but she might plan on coming to find you first."
"Oh."
Thrawn stood; he had enough of her moodiness.
"Contact me when you are ready."
"I will, thank you."
He left her sitting in her favourite spot of nowhere. All things considered, everything was falling into place quite nicely.
A/N: Hello, sorry to have kept you all waiting, but I hope you liked it anyway. Neila, you're my hero (give Rin my regards, her input was most valuable)
