CHAPTER FOUR

Mara moaned, turning over on her pallet. Drenched in a cold sweat and reeling from a sudden attack of nausea, she rose slowly and made her way out of the small hut into the pre-dawn darkness. Reaching a nearby hilltop that overlooked a black, glassy lake, she lowered herself to the grass, breathing slowly until the sickness passed.

She looked up at the stars, longing. It had been three months since her crash, and she'd seen no sign of any life other than the forest wildlife and the locals who had taken her in.

The Beresse, they called themselves. She'd learned enough of their language to be able to communicate with them. The woman she had met that first day during the vornskr attack was the Matriarch of the clan and the little boy, Miti, was her grandson. Sorada, the Matriarch, spoke a little Basic and had feared at first that Mara was one of the "Thieves." Mara had inadvertently found great favor with her and the other leaders by saving Miti, and in gratitude, they had hidden her in the hut from the true Thieves.

The Beresse were a simple race of farmers that had lived for hundreds of years in a symbiotic relationship with the "Traders." The "chusa" plant was indigenous to this part of the planet and was the staple food source for the clan. The leaves and beans were harvested each lunar cycle and stored in large warehouses. The Traders, however, were only interested in the plant's root. The Beresse grew and harvested the chusa crop, drying and storing the roots in large bins. The Traders would then come at the end of each cycle and exchange the roots for spices, meats, medicines, and a chemical growth accelerant for the next crop.

Puzzled by this relationship, Mara was given a small portion of the chusa root to taste. Almost immediately, she'd been overwhelmed by the most dizzying sense of euphoria that she had ever felt. After a few hours, her mind had cleared and she remembered that she had experienced that phenomenon once before. It had been when she was living at the Imperial palace, and the drug was called Kuussa by the courtiers. It was very expensive and highly illegal, even in the days of the Empire. Allegedly, the source of the drug had never been discovered. And although many attempts had been made to produce a synthetic version, the drug industry had never been able to imitate the effect of the genuine article.

Over time, the pressure to produce more and more roots had begun to interfere with the hunting and gathering necessary for the clan's survival. Rather than assist in the farming, the Traders had convinced the clan leaders to put all of their working forces into the fields and they, in return, would supply all the other needs of the colony. The Beresse were immune to the effects of the drug, and did not recognize the exploitation of their culture. They only knew that the human Traders were very pleased with large crops and rewarded them generously with tokens and goods that they would never have been able to produce themselves.

And then the Thieves had come. Pirates, Mara assumed, who had found out the source of the chusa plant production. They had arrived en masse, pillaging homes and storehouses, taking captives and leaving the simple farmers destitute. They had stolen not only the stores of roots, but the entire harvest of leaves and beans as well. The clan leaders had anxiously searched the skies for the Traders who would surely help them, but they did not come. They now lived in fear of when the Thieves would return.

Mara had jumped into the system during a battle between the Thieves and the Traders, but did not recognize any of the pirate ships from her dealings with the group on Sluis Van. Even from the short time that she had known him, she knew that Daven would never have participated willingly in such brutality and had obviously become involved with the wrong organization. He must have realized what their devastation would do to this delicate race, and contacted Mara secretly. Not secretly enough though, she thought, glancing over to the grove where she had helped the Beresse bury his body.

For the first few weeks that she had been there, Mara had spent most of her time salvaging what she could of Daven's ship and making repairs on the Sabre. Luke was certainly worried and she tried repeatedly to bring up the communications, but could not get the system calibrated due to the metal content in the trees.

That was when Sorada had approached timidly asking if she had anything to eat.

The Beresse were running out of food. The Thieves had come right after the harvest and had carelessly damaged a large percentage of the seedling crops by landing their ships in the fields. It had been decades since the clan had grown anything other than chusa crops and they could no longer provide for themselves. Mara sighed as she pulled her knees up to her chest. She had taken on the responsibility of teaching the clansmen how to hunt and find sources of nutrition in the forest, but the situation was only getting worse. The crops were growing too slow in the damaged soil and now a strange disease, brought by the pirates no doubt, was starting to spread among the tribe.

Another wave of nausea washed over her and she lowered her forehead to rest on her knees. Breathing slowly again, in through the nose and out through the mouth, she rode the wave until it passed. Startled by a hand on her shoulder, Mara looked up to see Miti standing beside her. He looked concerned and she smiled reassuringly, placing her palm to her cheek and then to his. He sat next to her and she lowered her legs so that he could lay his head in her lap. The Thieves had taken his mother captive, and he had become quite attached to Mara. Gently, she stroked his silky black hair as he drifted back to sleep.

The sky was just beginning to lighten on the horizon and soon, another day would dawn. "Oh Luke," she whispered. "I know you can't hear me, and I can't imagine what you must be thinking." A lump rose in her throat at the thought of him, "But I'm all right. And I will find a way to come home. I promise."

To be continued…