When Grey Wolf reverted to realspace, the planet sitting beneath left Captain Niriz markedly unimpressed. He was no expert in reading biomes, but even he could see this planet was sick. Most of its surface was a dark violet-brown color; the few large lakes and inland oceans on its surface were a muddy grey-blue. White cloud-wisps were sparse. He spotted only a few patches of land that looked healthy.
As usual, Thrawn hadn't explained why he'd taken them to this obscure system on the far edge of Hutt Space. Niriz hoped that now, at least, they'd get some answers.
The grand admiral was sitting in his command chair, white-gloved hands templed in front of him. What his red eyes saw when they stared out at the ugly world, Niriz had no idea.
"Sir," he asked, "Is there anyone you wish us to hail?"
"No need. Prepare a shuttle and a guard."
"You'll be going down there yourself?"
"Indeed. I'd like you to accompany me as well, Captain."
"I see." He looked back at the planet below. "I take it here are some inhabitants, sir?"
"On the small patches of inhabited land, yes. They'll prove quite valuable to us."
"It doesn't look like natural devastation."
"It isn't. This planet was once fertile. Then a vessel crashed here during the Clone Wars, ruining its ecosystem. The Empire has been managing things since then, but I wanted to pay a visit to make sure things are still on track, given everything else that's happened."
"Are we here for the planet, or the inhabitants?"
"Both. If we are not managing the situation on the planet well, the inhabitants won't be of any use to us."
Sometimes he really wished Thrawn would come out and say what he was talking about. "Who are these inhabitants, sir?"
"They're called the Noghri, Captain. I believe I've mentioned them before."
Niriz nodded, suddenly understanding. The Noghri were as skilled assassins as you could find in the galaxy, and they'd loyally served Darth Vader for decades. Several years before, Vader had passed command of the Noghri commandos to Thrawn in return for a favor. Now Vader was dead, and as for the Noghri, there was no telling whether their allegiance remained. The race supposedly held a deep sense of honor, but like everything in the galaxy lately, one couldn't depend on how things were supposed to work.
"Does Isard know about them, sir?"
"I'm sure she's aware. I've no indication that she's attempted to coopt their services in my absence, but we must be certain."
"Do you have a mission for them as well, sir?"
"The shuttle, Captain." Thrawn's voice tinged with impatience.
"Of course. Right away."
It took fifteen minutes for the crew to prepare a Lambda-class shuttle and a squadron of stormtroopers. Niriz handed command over to Lieutenant Virel and followed Thrawn onto the shuttle.
Once they entered the atmosphere, Honoghr only looked worse. They flew over a seemingly-endless wasteland of violet-brown grass, mixed with patches of chemically-polluted water. When they finally arrived at a patch of fertile land, Niriz felt almost relieved.
When the shuttle set down at the center of the village, Niriz understood why Thrawn hadn't bothered hailing them. The place was a shockingly primitive collection of wooden roundhouses and huts. Torches rather than glow-lamps flickered in the twilight gloom. As they marched down the landing ramp with their stormtrooper escorts, a cluster of short, grey-skinned aliens gathered to watch them. Most had their bodies hidden beneath brown woven robes, and on first sight hardly looked like skilled assassins, but over the past four years Niriz had learned to look beyond first appearances, especially when it came to aliens. He saw the strong, long-fingered hands, the way the Noghri held their heads high and their feet spaced and staggered. He saw forearms knotted with muscle and eyes with vertical slits like a predatory katarn's.
The Noghri, some two dozen in all, stared at the newly-arrived Imperials. Thrawn was at the head of the column, and if he'd been expecting them to bow down in obeisance, he hid his disappointment when they did nothing of the kind.
When it became clear that the Noghri were waiting for an introduction, Thrawn spread his arms and said in Basic, "Your Imperial benefactors have arrived at last. Please, I wish to speak to your Maitrakh."
Niriz didn't know what that was, but it must have been a leader of some kind. The little grey-skinned aliens, however, kept staring wordlessly. Niriz wondered whether these creatures understood Basic at all. Their planet was clearly technologically backward, and it was probable they'd never had contact from the outside galaxy at all until the Clone Wars. Such a primitive species might have seen offworlders as gods, but if they'd been impressed by Darth Vader, they didn't seem to share that opinion of Thrawn.
There was a muttering from the back of the crowd. Niriz tensed. If these Noghri were truly as good at fighting as claimed, they should have brought more than a dozen guards.
The grand admiral raised his voice and said, "My name is Grand Admiral Thrawn. Command of the Noghri was passed to me by your savior, Lord Darth Vader, three years ago. I spoke with the Maitrakh of Clan Bakh'tor then and confirmed your loyalty. I wish to speak with her again. The Empire is calling on its debt."
There was a shuffling in the crowd, and one Noghri hobbled forward. Its hair was white and its used a long stick to help it walk. It looked up, blinked those vertical eyes, and said in thickly-accented basic, "I am Ovkhevam, Grand Admiral Thrawn."
"I require your Maitrakh. Where is she?"
"In the grand dukha, as always." Ovkhevam jabbed the tip of his cane toward what seemed to be the largest roundhouse in the village.
"Then take me too her." When no one moved, Thrawn added sternly. "I have come farther to be here than you can imagine. I am giving you an order as speaker for the Empire and Lord Darth Vader. I expect obedience. You owe the Empire a debt for its effort to rehabilitate your world. Will you defile your honor by ignoring me?"
"We know our honor," Ovkhevam said. Niriz caught a slight tremble in his voice. "And we know our obligation. Come. I will take you to the Maitrakh."
The crowd parted in the center, giving them room to pass. Niriz leaned in close to Thrawn and whispered, "He's uncertain. Defensive."
"Very good," Thrawn nodded. He threw a hand over his shoulder, flicking up two fingers. A pair of stormtroopers stayed with Thrawn and Niriz as they followed Ovkhevam, while the rest stayed with the shuttle.
"Do you know why?"
"I'm afraid I don't, Captain, but I'm as eager to find out as you."
It wasn't often that Thrawn admitted to being in the dark. Unfortunately, it didn't make Niriz feel any better. As subtly as he could, he placed the palm of his right hand on the butt of the service pistol holstered at his belt. He had no illusions that he could take one of Darth Vader's famed death commandos in a fight, but if it came, he didn't want to die without a weapon in hand.
The inside of the grand dukha, as Ovkhevam had called it, was a broad open space, sparsely decorated. It probably served as a gathering hall, perhaps for religious ceremonies or clan meetings, but at the moment it looked markedly empty. At the far side of the room was a low stage, and atop the stage was an empty throne.
Sitting at the base of the throne, so hunched and small that Niriz didn't notice her it first, was a Noghri even older than Ovkhevam.
"Maitrakh," Ovkhevam called, "The Empire has sent us a visitor."
The Maitrakh picked up its head and stared. "You are Grand Admiral Thrawn," it said in Basic. It voice was rasping but sounded, to Niriz's ears, distinctly female.
"You know me. We have met before." Thrawn took two steps forward. One hand remained at his side, palm facing back, signaling for Niriz and the stormtroopers to stay where they were.
"We have," said the Maitrakh.
"You pledged your loyalty to me, as you did to Darth Vader. Does that loyalty not hold true? Or has your clan broken its honor?"
"We have broken nothing."
"Then why am I not being greeted as I deserve?" Thrawn let anger seep into his voice.
Ovkhevam glanced at his Maitrakh as thought he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. The Maitrakh straightened her back, though she remained seated before the throne. "You are from the Empire," she said, "And as such we owe you for your work restoring our land to plenty. But you are not Darth Vader."
"Darth Vader is dead. He passed command of your people to me. Do you deny either of those things?"
"We do not. We know Darth Vader is dead."
"Who told you Vader had died?" If Thrawn was as surprised by that as Niriz, he hid it well.
"The New Vader came to us nearly two years ago," the Maitrakh said. "He called a convention of all the clans and told us what had happened. He said he was the leader of the Empire now, and requested our obedience. We gave it to him."
Niriz has read the datafile on Honoghr before coming down here and knew that one year here was only two hundred standard days; in other words, not long after Vader and Palpatine had died.
"Who is this New Vader?" Thrawn added a sneer to the title.
"He came to us wearing black robes and bearing a sword of red light," the Maitrakh said. "He worked wonders as Darth Vader did. He could move stones with his will, and touch the minds of the clan leaders."
A Jedi, then. Some said the Rebels had a Jedi on their side, but the Emperor had employed a small cadre of tame Force-users as well, and one of them would be more likely to know about the Noghri.
"Lord Vader assigned you to me," Thrawn insisted. "Did you hand over your honor to an interloper just because he told you to?"
"He told us you were dead," Ovkhevam spoke up. "Slain, in the same great battle that killed Darth Vader."
Now Niriz understood. These primitive beings couldn't tell if they were seeing a god descended or a ghost resurrected.
"You can see that I am clearly alive," Thrawn snarled. "Have you been serving him this past year?"
"Some of our commandos are in his service now," the Maitrakh said. She bowed her head low to the floor. "Please forgive us, Lord. We did now know the New Vader was deceiving us. When he told us, we all believed."
Force magic, most likely. Niriz had never seen a Force-user in his life and mostly been grateful for it; now he had a sinking feeling that his luck had run out.
"Did this New Vader give you a name?" asked Thrawn. "Or did you throw away your honor without his asking for it?"
"He only called himself New Vader," the Maitrakh's tone was almost apologetic.
"I recall his acolytes calling him 'High Inquisitor.'" Ovkhevam added.
"Describe his acolytes," said Thrawn.
The Maitrakh raised her head. "One had white skin, and long tails from his head. Another was a female, with short gold hair. A young one was with her. All of them had swords of light, just like Lord Darth Vader."
"And this New Vader," said Thrawn, "Did he see you with his eyes?"
"No. He had no eyes, but could see us still."
Niriz was starting to feel sick in his gut. He'd never met the man the Noghri were describing, but there was only one person it could be.
"And you say he has commandos with him now?" Thrawn pressed.
"Yes, from different clans."
"If I find this New Vader, if I force him to admit his lies, will your people bear witness and recognize my rightful place as ruler of all Noghri?"
The Maitrakh and Ovkhevam exchanged glanced before the old woman said, "I cannot speak for all clans. But Clan Bakh'tor will witness."
"Then select two witnesses to come with me now. Have them ready within the hour. I don't suppose you know where the impostor has taken them?"
"The stars are… vast and unknown to me."
"Very well. I will find him myself." Thrawn turned and looked at Niriz for the first time since getting off the shuttle. He said, loud enough for the others to hear, "Captain, let us return to the shutle. If these Noghri do not prepare two witnesses to accompany us, we will raze the village."
Niriz swallowed. "Understood, sir."
"One hour," Thrawn repeated, then spun and marched for the door. It was all Niriz and the stormtroopers could do to keep up with them.
Niriz didn't attempt to talk to the grand admiral until they'd retreated inside the shuttle and closed the landing ramp, sealing them inside with eight stormtroopers while four more remained outside.
"I should have foreseen this," Thrawn said, voice betraying rare anger as he stood in the cockpit. "I should have taken efforts to preserve our presence on Honoghr and ensure the Noghri's obedience."
"Sir, there was no way you could have known the Rebels would kill Darth Vader."
"Perhaps not, but command of the Noghri was delegated to me, and me alone."
"Sir… How do you intend to find Inquisitor Jerec?"
Thrawn looked out the shuttle's viewport at the village. Small, brown-robed Noghri were moving about, giving the parked shuttle a cautious berth. When the grand admiral didn't answer, Niriz ventured, "Perhaps we should contact Director Isard. She may have an idea where he is."
"Jerec is currently pretending loyalty to Grand Moff Kaine of the Pentastar Alignment."
Niriz was about to suggest they approach Kaine, then held his tongue. Assuming the grand moff did know where Jerec was, he wouldn't be likely to give information on his ally to Thrawn.
"But you are right, Captain," Thrawn said with a restrained sigh. "Isard likely has military intelligence keeping an eye on Jerec."
"How do you intend to get the Noghri back from him, sir?"
"I am... considering that." Thrawn's red eyes narrowed. "Have you ever met the High Inquisitor, Captain?"
"No sir." He didn't say he was glad he hadn't.
"He was a Jedi, back when there were Jedi. He threw his lot in with Palpatine, of course, but his only allegiance has always been his own design. The Emperor sent us on several missions together. He wanted someone looking over Jerec's shoulder."
An ambitious Force-user, then. Lovely. "It sounds as though he's gathered followers, sir."
"He has."
"Do you have any idea what he might have been using the Noghri for?"
"I can think of many possibilities. Jerec has not tried to carve out territory like the other warlords. He has a different design."
"A… Jedi design, sir?"
"Quite likely."
Thrawn stared pensively out the window. To fill the awkward pause, Niriz cleared his throat "I've never met any Jedi, sir. Is that they say… true?" he finished lamely.
"Jerec is a very powerful being. I have no doubt he used the Force to affect the minds of the Noghri clan leaders into giving him their allegiance."
"So you've experienced his power first-hand?"
"His… And other Jedi's." Thrawn's eyebrows drew together. "Some have suggested that the Force brings madness to those who use it. Given my experience with their kind, I have always thought that possibility… quite likely."
"Can we use that to our advantage, sir?"
Thrawn turned to fix Niriz with his red glare. "I believe it is the only option we have."
At the hour's end, three Noghri approached the shuttle. The ramp was lowered, and Thrawn and Niriz walked out with their stormtrooper escorts.
The Noghri in the lead was Ovkhevam. The old creature bowed, then raised his head and said, "These are Clan Bakh'tor's witnesses, Ekhrikhor and Akharan. They are two of our best warriors and will serve the Empire well."
"I welcome them aboard," Thrawn said, voice softer than before. "I assure you, when they return to Honoghr they will tell you that I have only said the truth."
Ovkhevam bowed his head again, but made no reply.
Thrawn waved Ekhrikhor and Akharan forward. The two Noghri bowed, then threw brown hoods over their heads and walked up the ramp.
Once everyone was inside, the shuttle ramp closed and the craft prepared for liftoff. The Nohri were placed on crash seats in the rear hold while Thrawn and Niriz joined the shuttle's two pilots in the cockpit.
As they watched Honoghr's ugly surface fall beneath them, Niriz leaned close to Thrawn and said in a low voice, "You told them that the Empire is working to reclaim their polluted land. Is that true?"
"We've had agriculture droids working the soil for the past two decades," the grand admiral said.
Niriz frowned. If they'd been making progress, he didn't see any of it. Then realization found him. "You've been poisoning their world."
"Their world was already poisoned. We've merely been making sure it remains that way."
"While keeping the Noghri in indentured servitude forever."
Thrawn nodded once.
"If the Noghri found out it… Well, I don't think their sense of honor would approve."
"It wouldn't, which is why they never will. They're good fighters but primitive, technologically and mentally. A simple ag-droid is like a divine mystery to them."
Their shuttle started to rock as they exited the atmosphere. As Niriz gripped his seat-rests tight, Thrawn leaned close and said, "Are you troubled by this deception, Captain?"
"It seems a little risky, sir."
"What we're doing is hardly cruel. You must understand that honor and combat are at the center of Noghri life. They live to serve, and to serve with their knives. What we are giving them is a chance to fight, and possibly die, in service of a noble cause. Ekhrikhor and Akharan, and all the other Noghri death commandos, follow a higher calling in the Empire's service than they ever could have done in petty clan wars on Honoghr."
"You make it sound like we're doing them a favor."
"I doubt they'd agree, but I believe we are. We are all here to serve a greater design, Captain. You. The Noghri. And me."
His voice had taken on a tone of uncharacteristic reverse. As the shuttle cleared the atmosphere and soared toward Grey Wolf, he asked, "What design is that, sir?"
"What else?" Thrawn gave the tiniest shrug. "A strong, stable, ordered galaxy in which every being has a place. Every one of us. And we must be willing to make whatever sacrifices and take whatever steps are necessary in service of that goal."
Niriz couldn't deny the conviction in Thrawn's voice. He felt strangely blessed to that the grand admiral had confided this to him, here and now, but deep down, he knew it was something Thrawn had already taught him a long time ago.
