Author's note: This chapter overlaps with the previous one-and-a-half chapters.
Clan and honour
- Canderous Ordo -
::I gotta go and see to Jen. I'll be in touch, okay?:: Mission's words rushed over the comm. The relief I'd felt at her voice blaring over Revan's communicator had dispersed with her report. Revan, injured and currently out to it. Mission, kidnapped by Mando'ade before being fried by Dark Jedi. The fact they now had some additional ally with a lightsaber didn't lessen my unease.
"Stay put, ad'ika," I shot back. "I'll be getting your position shortly."
I switched the link off and looked up, meeting the alien gaze of the Cathar. She'd been listening in, slanted ears cocked in attention.
"Jen's hurt," she murmured. "And Mission's with her."
I grunted in acknowledgment. "They're with one of your robes." I raised a hand to adjust the dial of my visor. The damn thing had been twitchy since I'd entered the Shadowlands. "I'll go after them as soon as I have their coordinates."
Juhani's eyes were wide and solemn. The fine fur on her neck fluffed out in the humid air of the Shadowlands. "I can get there faster, Canderous."
I felt my brows slam down. "You should have told her. I should have told her. You let her run off alone with one of your hu'tuun masters, gambling he wouldn't kriff with her mind-"
"I trust Master Zhar, Canderous. And he vowed he was on her side-"
My derisive snort cut over her weak-minded excuses. "Words are useless, Cathar. This has gone on long enough. I ain't being party to this Jedi mind-screw any longer."
Juhani continued to eye-ball me as her lips thinned. I'd say one thing for the Cathar, there was no staring her down. She'd grown steel in her spine since the Tatooine dunes belched her out. "I worry for her mind, Canderous," she said quietly.
She'd said that before. I wasn't buying it, not any longer.
"Better the risk than have her floundering around the way she has been." I crossed my arms. "I'm a simple man, Cathar, but I don't let indecision handicap me."
Juhani frowned. It was a dig, and she knew it. We'd reunited a few hours ago, and she'd made the wrong call.
…
"Canderous!" a familiar voice called, cutting through the mass of roaring Wookiee surrounding the Czerka-built elevator.
In another scenario, my blood would be pumping with the anticipation of testing my skills against the famed big game of Kashyyyk. But right now, all I wanted to know was Mission's location. And why she wasn't answering her comm.
Just like kriffing Revan.
I'd gone down with the second lot. As soon as the damn lift doors opened to show only an empty shaft with a lingering acrid smell, I'd cursed and ordered HK to follow me. About twenty or so Wookiees squeezed in with us, filling the enclosed space with a suffocating stench of musk and wet fur. Some were injured, and undercutting their pungent body odour was the tinny smell of blood.
But the ones left topside were decidedly worse off. It was descending into a bloodbath, up there. Czerka had rallied, and rallied hard once they realized their precious slave cargo was running out on them.
I didn't know if there'd be many Wookiees left to fill the elevator a third time.
At the base of the forest, we'd stepped into another scene of carnage, but this one had the Wookiees as the overwhelming victors. Bodies of ill-prepared hunters were strewn amongst upturned storage canisters and survival supplies. Rifles had been ripped from warm corpses by furry paws, and the Wookiees were now shooting at any noise or shadow they detected in the surrounding underbrush.
They were savage with their anger, and some of the bastards looked ready to challenge me before HK reminded them in Shyriiwook exactly who had yanked them out of that slave ship. I could take on a Wookiee, armed as I was – but not thirty-odd. I was getting pissed they kept forgetting I was on their damn side.
It was mostly the first lot, struck by battle-lust and feral rage. The ones who'd breached the Shadowlands, who'd hacked their way through the surprised hunters that had been swilling ale in the fortified Czerka camp at the base of the lift.
The same Wookiees who'd come down with Mission, even though there was no damn sign of her.
I hadn't been entirely surprised to spot Zaalbar. And, since he'd joined the party, the tall one next to him was probably his sire, the chieftain. As far as leaders went, he wasn't a pretty one, due to the snarled mank in his thick fur that made me wonder if he'd taken to mud-bathing. But there was no mistaking his status. The other Wookiees were crowded around him, heads bowed in deference as they listened to him holler in a deep, crusty voice.
But the Cathar-
No. No, I hadn't expected her.
"You're here with Carpet?" I demanded in way of greeting, as she came to a stop in front of me. HK was in the midst of the hairy figures, howled enquiries firing from his vocabulator towards a bowed Wookiee with grey fur. He was gathering intel from the ones who were here first – but he wasn't the least interested in Mission's whereabouts. "You seen Mission?"
The Cathar blinked, and her look of surprise was enough answer for me. "Mission? No, Canderous, why would-"
"She came down here with the first lot," I growled. "What about Jen?"
Juhani closed her eyes, sighing. "This place is wild and untamed. It stirs the blood. Everything feels more alive – the people, the animals, the trees-"
"Answer the kriffing question, Cathar!"
A nearby Wookiee glared at my raised voice. The savage one I took as Zaalbar's sire grasped a thick pole as tall as himself and gestured in my direction, and the bowed grey one placed a calming paw on his forearm. I heard Zaalbar howl in protest, saw him wave a hairy limb. He was standing to the side, behind the rest, a subordinate position in a pack dynamic.
Wookiees were not so far removed from their ancestry as other species. And I'd hunted enough pack animals to make a solid assumption that his exile had not been magically forgotten by his peers.
"I have not seen her, Canderous."
Something about Juhani's inflection gave me pause. I dragged my gaze back to her. "What?" I snapped. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I have sensed…" she sighed. "In truth, I do not know what I have sensed. Great power, deeper in the heart of the Shadowlands. Dark. Some of it, at least."
I didn't hold with the Jedi and their dark and light sides - but we both knew who the great power was. "Was she in trouble? Is she in trouble?"
"I do not know, Canderous-"
"You should have gone after her," I growled. "Why are you here, and not after her?"
Her face twisted in indecision. "Zaalbar," she explained in a soft voice. "Some of the Wookiees attacked him at first. He is an exile from his own people, Canderous. And then- even after his father spoke for him- I wasn't even sure what I had sensed. the disturbance in the Force had stopped, and I was too far away to pinpoint it, let alone assist."
But the torn look on her alien face gave away her true feelings. She wasn't sure she'd made the right call.
…
She was still frowning, either from uncertainty of her own damn choices, or annoyance at my reminder. "I will go after her, Canderous," she said softly. "With the Force as my ally, I can travel swiftly through the Shadowlands. I should be able to sense Jen when I get close enough, and Zaalbar is… somewhat accepted by his people, now."
It had taken us some time to secure the area. Zaalbar had run out in front, snarling rabidly as he chased down armed hunters fleeing the scene, taking risks against blaster fire to ensure none of them escaped alive. Zaalbar's warrior spirit may have done something to assuage his low position, but I doubted he'd ever have the proper status of a chieftain's son again.
During the previous hour, small groups of Czerka-paid hunters had returned to the area, either drawn by sounds of battle or heading back topside. And then I'd noticed Mission's comm-link signal had blacked out-
Well. She's safe now, more or less. She's with Revan. Lack of comms had been both stupid and dangerous on this planet. I stared pointedly at the Cathar's bare wrists. When we left Kashyyyk, I was going to implement a rule that no one stepped out of the damn 'Hawk without a comm slapped on their wrist. And, whenever someone failed to answer a bloody call, they would owe me a kriffing bottle of Corellian whiskey.
That should sort out both Revan and the Cathar.
But, more importantly, I'd have that overdue talk with Revan – before we left Kashyyyk, if possible. I'd sworn to make her face the truth at the conclusion of Korriban, and I'd let Juhani talk me out of it.
I didn't waste time on regrets, but this was one mistake I was gonna fix.
"We'll both go after her," I ground out at last. A flash of displeasure crossed Juhani's face, and I could see she didn't agree. I scowled. She was right in that she was faster, but the others weren't in any immediate danger now, and I wanted to see Mission personally back to the 'Hawk. That was one detail I'd rather Carpet not hear. Reserved though the Wookiee was, Mission's safety had a tendency to rile him up like a rabid kath hound. "Look, kittycat, I should have their position any second now-"
The comm chirped. Juhani's gaze flickered away to the distant figure of Zaalbar.
"Let me speak to Zaalbar," she murmured. I grunted in dismissal, waved her off, and answered the call.
::Ordo, do you copy?::
"Onasi," I acknowledged. "They finally let you go, huh?"
::Yeah, I- yeah.:: The Republic soldier sounded annoyed. Scratch that, he sounded pissed. To be fair, I'd feel the same in his boots. I would've liked his backup earlier, if he hadn't been so busy cosying up to his superiors. ::Dustil's filled me in. I'm not-:: he stopped with an irritated growl. ::Well, I'll leave the debrief for later. Look, have you heard from Jen? She's not answering.::
"She's wounded and knocked out, Onasi," I said shortly. "Your stuttering spawn should have relayed all of Mission's report."
I heard him sigh. ::Look, Ordo, we've not always seen eye-to-eye, and blast if I can understand why you lot value battle over life the way you do-::
"Is there a point to this?" I cut in. "For you might be lounging around in the cockpit sipping caffa, but I'm actually busy down here."
::I follow orders, Ordo,:: he said, his voice turning cold. ::Even if I disagree. Even if I'm left out of the loop.::
I didn't dispute the need for discipline, for the chain of command. You had to trust your men, particularly during war. But blindly following orders without weighing them against your own honour – that was dangerous. Weak. I wondered where Onasi's breaking point would be. He was implacable in his loyalty to his laandur Republic, but he didn't strike me as the sort who would sell his soul or tear down his own moral code to keep that loyalty.
I didn't agree with him at the best of times, but I held a grudging respect for both his character and honour.
"What's been going on up there?" I asked slowly. "Sithkid said you were pulled away again. What are the Republic doing on Kashyyyk?"
There'd been a couple of freighters, coming in to dock either side of the 'Hawk, both chock full of uniformed Republic soldiers who'd made a beeline for our ship the moment they landed.
::Our mission's critical to the war, Ordo, it's not that surprising,:: he muttered. ::Except… they're very interested in the crew. The Republic have appropriated this mission, and they want us all to report in before we leave Kashyyyk. Then, the Ebon Hawk will be docking with the Meridus. It's waiting in Kashyyyk airspace.::
"Report? You think I'll be reporting to one of your office managers?" I shot back, amused. "All of us, huh? Think you can get Mission to drop a salute?"
Actually, the Meridus sounded familiar. I frowned. And the Republic taking over would ruffle a few feathers. This had been a Jedi mission from the outset, but maybe Bastila's precious Order had lost authority when she'd been captured.
::Yeah, I - look, I get their interest, this may be our only chance to stop Malak, so in a way I'm surprised this didn't happen earlier. But-:: he broke off, sighing. ::There's something going on I'm not understanding, Ordo. And, I found out some of your history.:: He paused, before adding pointedly, ::General.::
I barked a laugh. "I could've told you earlier, Republic, but I didn't want to intimidate you," I mocked.
::Hardly,:: he fired back. ::Look, Ordo, you were a bigger player during the Wars than I realized, and your clan more active than I knew. We'll be staying with the Meridus for some time, I suspect. I don't know when we'll be released or what we'll do from there.::
The Meridus… I recalled it, now. The Meridus was an Interdictor-class heavy cruiser. A notable ship in the Republic armada, with its own supporting fleet. Even if Onasi were to disobey orders and refuse to dock – and he had no reason to do that – the gravity well projectors of the Meridus would be able to block us from entering hyperspace.
And it was orbiting Kashyyyk, in wait for us.
Onasi- he was trying to warn me, I realized with surprise. I wasn't wanted by the Republic as far as I knew – Malachor had well and truly ended Mando'ade might with the death of near all clan leaders and the scattering of the remnants – but I'd always held influence with the Ordo clan, and that had grown during the Wars.
I was high enough in the ranks to warrant some interest from the Republic – for if Ordo were to call a leader-seek, I'd be a contender.
Ordo had come out of the Wars burned and battered, but not as decimated as some of the others. We'd been one of the strongest clans, and one day it was entirely possible I could end up leading it.
Onasi- he was being circumspect, but there was an audible tone of concern in his words. He thought there was some danger to me. He was giving me a chance, a chance to avoid the Republic soldiers waiting in the starport. Despite our disdain for each other, our differing values, our opposing sides in the Wars.
Maybe, the grudging respect was on both sides.
But- I realized with a jolt- he had it wrong.
Revan. They're after Revan. Haar'chak, they know.
There was a damn Interdictor ship in orbit around Kashyyyk. The Republic wasn't after a Mando'ade general who'd spent the last few years pissing about with mercenary work. Even if I did go back and lead Ordo – which was a presumption in itself - the Mando'ade wouldn't be a major player, in galactic terms, for years. Our strength had been gutted.
But- their old hero turned conqueror, now a product of a kriffing Jedi experiment- Oh, yes, she was enough to scare them right down to their bollocks.
"I hear you, Onasi," I finally said. "Keep trying Jen. Haar'chak, I need to talk to her."
::You need to talk to her?:: he muttered in disbelief.
"Keep trying," I growled. "Send me her position. I'll go after her."
I switched off the comm, and looked up. The Wookiees were still howling at each other, and Zaalbar caught my eye, trotting over in my direction.
"Carpet," I acknowledged, glancing behind him. His countrymen had surrounded the area, some patrolling the boundary of the overturned camp, and the rest listening intently to the chieftain and the bowed one. And I couldn't see any sign of-
"Where's Juhani?" I demanded. "She was with you a second ago-"
He howled something.
"Translation: Brooding Tabby has run off to find Master," HK intoned from behind Zaalbar. "Observation: Master's last known location has been transmitted to your personal communicator. Primary objective to locate Master initiating."
"What?" I barked. "HK, stay put! Damn that Cathar!" My teeth gritted, and I glanced down at the wrist-comm. Geographical coordinates were blinking at me – and either HK's superior visual receptors had gleaned that data, or he'd hacked into the 'Hawk's communications to download them. I wasn't sure which one was more likely.
HK's red eyes gleamed. "Statement: No current orders from Master are active. Reverting to default objective: find and protect Master."
I growled as he began to move out. "Then give me a minute and we'll go togeth-"
The sound of blaster fire further afield had me halting, mid-rant. My heavy repeater was in my grasp in a flash. From here, all I could see was the red spit of laser dancing behind the massive girth of a wroshyr. Someone, up ahead, had broached the perimeter.
"HK, Zaalbar, to me," I commanded, rushing forwards. Zaalbar chuffed, loping next to me with an upraised rifle he'd no doubt pulled from a dead hunter. The snarls of his countrymen picked up, and the flashes of fire retreated away. I heard the puff of a smoke grenade, and some indistinct cursing.
Poor bastards. They won't be able to outrun Wookiees reclaiming Kashyyyk. Although, as Carpet and I neared the skirmish, I began to realize these hostiles were better trained than the others we'd encountered. We halted behind a wroshyr trunk to pinpoint their location. I guessed four or five of them, hiding behind cover as they took accurate potshots at the approaching Wookiees.
The earlier Czerka grunts had run in panic, and not made it far. This lot – well, they wouldn't last long, but at least they'd go down bravely, with honour. I pulled out a grenade, about to prime it-
"Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur!" someone yelled.
Today is a good day for someone else to die.
Haar'chak! My own tongue, being spoken here by those I was firing against-
"Stop!" I hollered in shock. "HK, tell the Wookiees to hold their fire!" I shoved the inactivate grenade back in my belt, switching to Mando'a. "(Hold your fire! State your clan and hold your damn fire!)"
I didn't hear the mechanical howls of HK's translation. I turned around wildly, and couldn't spot the damn droid anywhere. There was a blurry flash as three Wookiees ran past me, snarling.
"(Who's that?)" someone answered, an angry voice in the distance. "(If you're with those beasts, get them to stand down!)"
"Zaalbar!" I yelled. No, that won't work! Carpet has sod-all status- Zaalbar was howling something, all the same. Behind us, another group of overgrown hairballs were advancing, flanking each other with stolen blasters aimed at the shadows. The one in the centre, the leader, was Zaalbar's dad.
And I ran. Slung my weapon over my shoulder, hands free and unarmed, and ran straight towards the Wookiee chieftain.
"Those are my men!" I roared, metres away, my arms raised in the universal motion for halt. Next to him, the bowed Wookie with the dappled grey fur jerked in shock. On either side, hairy forearms belonging to others trained laser sights in the centre of my torso. "I led the escape of your damn Wookiees, now get them to stop firing at my men!"
One of them had to understand Galactic Basic. Damn HK for leaving!
Carpet's dad chuffed in anger. The bowed one gestured something. I could still hear blaster fire, and at the end of it those unknown Mando'ade were too outnumbered to survive for long.
"If it wasn't for me, your son would have died on Taris!" I bellowed. "If it wasn't for me, near all of these Wookiees would be sitting in a Czerka prison waiting to be shipped off-world as slaves!"
The bowed grey one understood, I was sure of it, with the way she cocked her head at my words. Even Zaalbar's skeevy dad stopped rumbling when I spoke, although now his face was contorted in a furry rictus.
Zaalbar's solid presence stepped to my side, and I turned to face him, my hands digging into his forearms in desperation. "They're not Czerka, Zaalbar, not really," I growled. "Just mercs doing a job. Just like I was on Taris. Rangir, you owe me. You all owe me. I'll have them throw down their damn weapons and leave the planet-"
He removed my clenched fists with relative ease. I was a strong man, but I was no Wookiee.
And then, Zaalbar's dad roared, a litany of Shyriiwook vowels in a voice loud enough to reverberate through the trees.
The nearby fire ceased, and Zaalbar thumped me on the shoulder, motioning towards the shadows. I understood the unspoken message. Go. Be quick.
I lurched forward, towards the Mando'ade.
"(Throw down your weapons and come out slowly!)" I bellowed. "(The hairballs owe me a favour and I've got them to stop their fire, but don't do anything stupid. They're trigger-happy and more than a little pissed at off-worlders!)"
A thickset Wookiee snarled something at me as he stomped back towards the others. But there were still almost a dozen facing the hidden Mando'ade, all now wielding ranged weapons and unholy anger.
"(I ain't surrendering to one of those!)" a young voice shot back. "(Better a quick death from a blaster, than being ripped limb from-)"
"It's not surrender, di'kut, I'm trying to get you off-world," I thundered. "And speak Basic, so the Wookiees can hear. I want to make sure they understand that the only thing y'all plan to do next is haul jets off their planet."
"Who are you?" a deeper voice yelled, the first one I'd heard.
"Canderous, of clan Ordo," I answered. "Now stop wasting time if you want to live!"
An uneasy silence descended on the shadows. A Mando'ade feared nothing, but the Wookiees were one of the more dangerous – and savage – species in the galaxy. And they had every right to be steamed at the mess Czerka were making on their planet. They looked like hairy guardians, dotted between the giant wroshyrs as they stared into the shadows, their noses raised and blasters aimed. Each of them, on a trigger-edge of violence.
I didn't even know the Mando'ade I was backing, and I damn well hoped they were worth it.
"Okay, I'm coming out," the first one called. A second later I saw a figure emerge from the dark. Clad head to toe in beaten armour, he held a blaster at his side, before tossing it to the feet of the nearest Wookiee.
"You better know what you're doing, Canderous," he said, as he walked slowly in my direction. "If you cause me an honourless death, I'll damn well haunt you in the afterlife."
Three more figures materialized, all throwing their weapons in the same fashion. One was limping heavily.
"Do what I say," I ordered, as a menacing group of Wookiees encircled them. Zaalbar howled something next to me, gesturing at his blaster before pointing at the nearest Mando'ade. "State whatever weapons are still on your person, before – slowly! – throwing them to the ground."
"There is no honour in this," one of them growled. "Coming forward like weak-"
"Oh, and there's honour in doing Czerka's dirty work?" I snapped, seeing one of the Wookiees facing them twitch aggressively. "Hired guns for nothing more than credits?"
It had been sitting in my craw, ever since I'd faced Jagi. There had been a decent sized group of Mando'ade on Dreshdae, wiling away the time as they picked up the odd merc job for cash. It was too much like what I'd done, wasting years on kriffing Davik Kang.
"There's a pistol on my hip," the first one said. "A shiv-blade by my thigh. Two grenades. I'm removing them now."
There was a shuffle amongst the rest as they copied him, all slowly stating their weapons before tossing them to the nearest Wookiee. Even the one who'd complained followed suit, so I figured the first one was their leader, of sorts.
"Canderous," he said, stepping closer to me. "Never thought I'd see you on the wrong side of a gun."
My eyes narrowed, as his hands moved to remove his helm. One of the Wookiees snarled in threat at the movement, yanking a rifle upwards. "I'm just removing my helm!" the Mando'ade protested. "Haar'chak!"
I felt a jolt of surprise as his weathered face came into view, from behind an in-line visor. Blonde hair shorn short around a heavily scarred face. A wide jaw and two round ears that stuck out prominently on either side of his head. Not a pretty man, but a damn capable one.
"Jacen," I said in surprise, my brows raising.
"Su cuy'gar, clan-brother," he replied in wry tones. "You're aiding the Wookiees, huh?"
Zaalbar rumbled something softly, but I heard the urgency in his tones. Still, kriffing Jacen. A cousin, on my mother's side. An up-and-coming leader of Ordo, I'd picked, from the battles we'd shared. He was quick, fast, and resourceful. I hadn't seen him since the fringes of Malachor.
"Something like that," I muttered. "I'd have a drink and catch up, but it ain't the friendliest of company, here. Who else is with you?"
"Trallia of Kelborn, Da'thok of Kelborn, and Jernnin of Lok."
Not anyone else I knew personally, but I'd heard of two of them. Trallia Kelborn was known for leading risky manoeuvres with small basilisk squads. In fact, her exploits were notable enough that it had sparked inter-clan wagering on her chances of survival at times. And Jernnin- Well. He'd been the third of the Lok clan, once.
Both blooded during the Wars, just like Jacen. Just like me. Veteran Mando'ade, scattered like useless drek around the galaxy.
"And Dan of Fett," another man called out in a bland voice, and a fifth figure strode into view, calmly handing a blaster grip-first to the nearest Wookiee. Clad in the same armour as the rest, but from the shifting of the others they hadn't expected him.
"Su'cuy," Jacen muttered to him. "Haven't seen you down here. Where's your hunter group?"
"Dead," Dan said succinctly. His visor turned to face me. "Canderous of Ordo. I've heard of you."
Zaalbar rumbled something again, giving me a rough nudge.
"Okay, keep your hair on," I muttered, before glancing over my shoulder to the Wookiee leader. He was glaring. "Give me a minute," I called to him, "and I'll get them out of here."
The chieftain growled something, and the dappled grey one echoed him in a calmer voice. The Wookiees surrounding them all put me in mind of a kath pack, tensed and waiting for the moment to pounce.
I sighed, turning back to Jacen. "You lot need to get out of here. Get back to the Czerka lift, and get off-world. This isn't our planet, and it's not ours for the taking. Not under Czerka. Rangir, we're better than this."
"Better than what, Ordo?" one of the others sneered. Da'thok, I thought, the argumentative one. "There are no more clans left, not after Malachor. You think to judge us for picking up honest work?"
Honest work. As honest as tracking down bounties for Davik and keeping the swoop gangs in line. "Yes, I damn well do," I growled. "Since when did we turn into aimless mercs who value credits over clan and honour? Our leaders may have been killed, our forces may have been routed – but Revan didn't break us. We broke us."
I turned to the side, and spat on the ground. "Clan can be rebuilt. Haar'chak, have we all forgotten what makes us Mando'ade? We grow strong through testing our mettle, through strengthening our clan. Defeat is nothing more than a set-back, a challenge to do better. When did we forget this? Since when do we allow defeat to crush us?"
The silence was electric. Dan Fett had folded his arms, and looked the most relaxed of the lot. Jacen sighed, scratching his head. "Malachor. It is gone, and you know its importance. But not only…" Jacen trailed off, before picking up again. "We lost our Mand'alor, Canderous. All the clans of any import lost their leaders at Malachor. Our fathers, our brothers and sisters, our generals. What strength remained has been dispersed through the galaxy. Just like me, and just like you."
"We are more than just our leaders, Jacen," I said. "Our leaders don't define us. Our bloodlines don't define us!" I gestured to Jernnin, whose four armoured arms gave away his Besalisk ancestry. And to Dan Fett, whose high-raised helmet named him as Cerean or Togruta. Adoption was clan, and that was an integral strength in the Mando'ade. "We are a culture, an idea, and we do not let any enemy – no matter how powerful – vanquish that idea!"
Again, they lapsed into silence, and I had no clue if anything I said was reaching them. But, haar'chak, it was time. Jacen, Trallia and Jernnin should be rebuilding our people. As should I. "Go home, leave this planet that's not ours, and go home to your clans. Tell them it's time to rebuild. It's time to seek new leaders."
"Ordo needs a leader too, Canderous," Jacen said, slipping his helmet back on. "Will you come with us?"
"Not yet," I muttered. Not yet. "I have something else to see out, first. But I'll be back within the year. If I'm not, then you know it's time to sing my battle songs to the stars."
"I will, brother," he murmured. Zaalbar, at my side, chuffed something, and we both looked to see him motioning towards the Czerka lift.
"Go back topside," I ordered. "Go back through the Czerka lift. Find a flight out of here quick, for as sure as the grizzle on your bollocks, Czerka won't be on Kashyyyk for long."
The approving roar that shook the ground told me enough Wookiees surrounding us had some understanding of Basic.
"Men," Trallia muttered, her visor shaking at me as she began to limp past. "Don't stay away too long, Ordo. If enough others feel as you do, then it won't just be individual clans looking for a new leader."
Her meaning was obvious. Mand'alor. It would be a good thing, to see the choosing of a new one. To witness our rebirth from the ashes of Malachor.
I would go back, I knew this now, had known it since I'd encountered Jagi. I would follow Revan first, see this out to its end, and then I would go back. Jacen wasn't the only one of my clan who might yet live. He wasn't the only one I held bonds to.
Zaalbar rumbled something further, a long litany of incomprehensible vowels as the Mando'ade slowly trudged through the now-Wookiee encampment, and a half-dozen armed hairballs followed them with blasters raised.
"You get I don't understand a damn thing you're howling, right?" I muttered. He continued to howl.
"They're planning on destroying the Czerka lifts," Dan Fett said. He'd halted, facing me, as the others continued to walk away. "Not yet, but soon. They're going to throw grenades in the shaft."
I turned, to stare at the unknown Mando'ade. His battered visor remained facing me, his arms held loosely at his side. "You understand Shyriiwook," I said slowly. "What are you doing on Kashyyyk, Dan of Fett?"
"I know enough to get the gist," he answered, shrugging beneath the bulky armour. He was as tall as me, not surprising given his ancestry, and he held himself with a warrior's alertness. "If you want to follow them topside, then now's your chance."
"As I said to Jacen, I have other business to attend to," I growled. "It's you who should be leaving."
Zaalbar said something more, gesturing wildly with his hands. Dan tilted his head to appraise him.
"Some of the Wookiees have gone back to their village, before they met up with-" He paused, waving irritably at the chieftain. "That guy, I can't pronounce his name," he muttered. "They took Czerka corpses as proof of the leader's dishonour, so there's likely a merry little shindig happening in their charming habitat topside. Your furry friend will be following them shortly, and wants to know your plan."
I scowled at the stranger. The other Mando'ade had vanished into the shadows, but this one seemed entirely too interested in sticking around. "As enticing as your translation skills are, if you stay here you won't last long. I ain't gonna protect you from your own stupidity."
A cacophony of Wookiee howls had us both turning, to see a small group of walking hairballs lope into the camp. One, a grizzled ancient figure with streaks of white running through his snarled fur, strode over to the bowed grey one, before embracing her fiercely. A few others nearby rumbled their approval.
"A mated pair, separated by the leader topside," Dan murmured. "Wookiees are interesting creatures."
Zaalbar snarled something at that, and Dan shrugged in apparent indifference. There was a loud roar from Zaalbar's sire, who was standing next to the grizzled newcomer. And all the Wookiees encircling them jerked to attention.
"Fighting's broken out in their village," Dan translated. "That old one who just came down reports that the corpses and news of a Czerka lift have started a riot. Seems a lot of the Wookiees topside didn't know about the Czerka presence."
"Zaalbar-" I started, but an upsurge of Shyriiwook rumbling completely drowned out my words. The Wookiees, as one, turned on their heel and began bounding out of the camp, and into the Shadowlands.
"Zaalbar! What the kriff's going on?"
But between the barked orders from the chieftain, and the mass exodus of howling Wookiee, I already knew. They were on their way to the Rwookrrorro elevator. And then-
A chirp from my wrist-comm snagged my attention. It was Revan.
::The Sith are rallying to commence orbital bombardment on Kashyyyk.:: Her words came through in a rush. ::I've sent the Map coordinates through. Whatever you're doing, finish up and get back to the 'Hawk.:: There was a deep intake of air. ::I'll collect Mission and meet everyone there. We must leave Kashyyyk as soon as we can.::
She switched off the channel before I could say a damn word, and ignored my immediate attempt to contact her back.
"Mand'alor's balls!" I cursed. I swung back to look at Zaalbar. We were alone, now, the rest of the natives having left us for dust. "You got that, Carpet? We gotta head back. You have to make a choice, the 'Hawk or your village?"
He gesticulated wildly, rough growls spitting out from his vocal chords, his eyes pinching in anger.
Dan started stumbling over the translation. "Something about a life-debt, and a mission that shouldn't be there-"
"Yeah, okay, so Mission's down in the damn Shadowlands, but she's safe-"
He roared louder.
"Look, she wasn't meant to be in the lift, Carpet, you can bawl her out later-"
A furry fist shook in my face.
"For the love of Mand'alor, would you focus on what's important?" I snapped. "You heard Jen. The Sith know we're here. We have to get off-planet."
He was still howling, and Dan Fett struggled to keep pace. "He wants to see his father in the village, first, something about his brother and dishonour, I think? But he's talking about a life-debt again-"
"Zaalbar," I forced out through clenched teeth. "It's one or the other. I ain't sticking around to be turned into a plasma smear in your damned forest."
Although- where had Revan's intel come from? Onasi had just relayed that a damn Republic cruiser was in Kashyyyk airspace. If the Sith planned to bomb Kashyyyk to get at the Star Map or Revan – or both – then there'd likely be a pretty party up in the skies, first. That might buy us some time.
"He's adamant he has to see this through," Dan was saying, his words interspersed with Carpet's rumbles. "But his life-debt will bring him back to your Jen's side, one way or the other. He says you should go back to the ship, he'll be as quick as he can but don't wait for him-"
I folded my arms. At the end of it, Zaalbar was one of the crew – and without a blasted comm. And it hadn't escaped me that Revan had delayed the shyrack caves, back on Korriban, for my own personal business.
"I'm coming with you, Carpet," I said. "And if your family feud drags out too long, I'll kick your furry butt."
Zaalbar nodded his shaggy head, and strode off into the Shadowlands. I had to run to keep up, and I knew he was slowing down for me.
Dan of Fett trailed us silently. Somehow, that didn't surprise me.
xXx
