Homecoming

- Zaalbar -


Tasharr was waiting for us at the Rwookrrorro waypoint.

"(Zaalbar)," she greeted, as we neared. "(The others have already ascended. I elected to wait for you and your off-world friend who has aided us so greatly)."

I glanced at Canderous, running beside me with an apparent grimace beneath his visor. I did not know the details, of how he had coordinated the breakout of my fellow people from the clutches of soulless Czerka, but I understood that we owed him a debt.

Although, I was highly unimpressed that he allowed Mission into the fracas. The thought of my young friend, down in the Shadowlands, set a growl of frustration growing in my chest, even as reason tried to argue with it. Mission is with Jen. Juhani has left to find them. They will be safe, Mission will be safe.

The thought did not reassure as much as I would have liked. A young Twi'lek cub did not belong amongst the perils of the Shadowlands, no matter her allies.

"(Come)," Tasharr chuffed, motioning us into the basket. I was aware of Canderous' Mandalorian friend quietly translating behind me. Although, friend might be too mighty a word, judging from the wariness in both Canderous' stance and scent. I reminded myself that this newcomer was not only a stranger to Canderous, but also a Czerka-hired mercenary.I would be keeping my eye on him.

We moved silently into the elevator. The warm air of the Shadowlands ruffled my fur. Tasharr patted me softly on the shoulder before taking guard, a small blaster pointed outward. I was quick to follow suit.

There were many deadly predators on Kashyyyk, and some of them were winged.

As the lift began to rise, Canderous settled into the side of the basket, his heavy weapon also at the ready. He turned to appraise me silently for a moment, before looking down and pressing a button on his wrist communicator.

It emitted a faint electronic hum as the signal was picked up. Dan of Fett stilled, ramrod straight, like a kath hound bristling to attention. Even Tasharr, facing away into the shadows, had her head cocked with interest.

"We're headed up to the hairball village in what passes for a lift around here," Canderous muttered into his wrist.

::Noted,:: the reply came, and I recognized the voice of Carth Onasi. I desired to hear from Jen, who was with Mission. Jen, who had fired out such dire news not so long ago. Orbital bombardment. To think that we might have brought such danger to Kashyyyk's surface – and it would be because of Jen's Star Map, no doubt – sent a shiver of trepidation through me. I had seen Taris, and heard of what happened to Dantooine. The same could not occur on my homeworld.

The sooner the Ebon Hawk left Kashyyyk, the better.

But my debt was to Jen, and my loyalty to both her and Mission. I would travel to Rwookrrorro and ensure my father reclaimed what was his, but then I would leave. The life-debt demanded it.

I had accepted the chains of my vow to Jen Sahara, since the words had first left my lips, since the moment Jen had thrown herself into the path of a rancor for my salvation. But my unwilling part in the capture of Bastila Shan added both urgency and shame to that debt. My honour held no recourse but to restore the Jedi, in any way I could.

Never had the responsibilities of my vow weighed so heavily on my soul. Never had I so much to atone for.

Carth Onasi was still relaying information to Canderous Ordo. ::-tracking her position, but she's still not answering me.:: There was evident frustration in the human's voice. ::You should get to the 'Hawk well before her, assuming you don't have a tea party with the Wookiees.::

"Yeah, I hear ya, Republic," Canderous replied in his drawling voice. "Carpet's gotta see his dad right, but he understands the urgency. If he forgets, my foot will remind him."

I huffed at him in irritation, and he threw me a smirk.

::Teethree's hacked into the Czerka air traffic control. It's patchy, but there's preliminary reports of a Sith warship exiting hyperspace in Kashyyyk airspace.::

It starts. The madclaw Sith were here.

"Huh. Jen's timing was spot on, then."

::Yes. I don't have details of the Sith starship, but whatever it is, it emerged directly in the path of the Meridus. Czerka staff are fleeing the starport like scattering gizka at the thought of a firefight in the stars above.:: Carth sighed, a gust of air evident over the transmission. ::Not that I blame them, most of these idiots are just office workers with blasters.::

I might have felt satisfaction at that, of the Czerka plague fleeing my planet, were it not contrasted with the thought of what the Sith might unleash upon Kashyyyk.

"Keep me informed of Jen's whereabouts," Canderous said. "She gave the warning, she'll be taking it seriously. She better." There was either impatience or irritation in the gravelly voice of my crewmate, but I did not think it was directed at Carth Onasi.

::Stang- I'm going- some hopeful is trying to slice the hatch open-::

Canderous snorted. "Right. I'll check in soon."

The shadows were slowly lightening as the lift continued its swaying ascent. I saw Canderous turn to his new acquaintance, this Dan of Fett who had elected not to follow his companions.

"This planet's getting hot – you've heard enough to figure that out for yourself. You're not getting a ride outta Kashyyyk through me," Canderous said, in a flat tone. Dan Fett's helm swivelled to face him. "So you've heard of me. Big deal. That don't mean I'm on the lookout for followers."

Dan of Fett cocked his head, as if in thought. "Why wouldn't you give a fellow Mandalorian a ride out of here?"

I did not like the thought of another Mandalorian on the Ebon Hawk. I had become accustomed to Canderous, and grudgingly trusted his loyalty to Jen, but I had heard enough about his kind. Battle was all important to them. Their self-worth was tangled up in their combat prowess, like a kshyyy vine choking an otherwise healthy sapling. I did not think the addition of an unknown extra was a good idea.

Although, I had not approved of three errant leavers from the madclaw Academy on Korriban, and yet they had surprised me. That quiet one, Kel Algwinn, even attempted to understand a few basic Shyriiwook greetings – something Canderous had not yet bothered with.

"You're unarmed, unproven, and I don't know you from a can of beans," Canderous snapped. "If you're a true Mando'ade, you should be resourceful enough to find your own way off Kashyyyk. Besides, it ain't my command, Fett. I'm not letting a stranger into the midst of our crew."

Tasharr shifted, her gaze still facing outward, but her attention obviously on the ongoing conversation.

"I'm no threat," Dan Fett retorted. "I will swear it." He drew in a breath, and then rattled off a long string of incomprehensible words in what I could only assume was Canderous' native tongue.

Whatever Dan of Fett spoke, it seemed to silence Canderous for a full minute. I glanced over to Tasharr, before turning my attention back to the brightening umbra.

It was good to see Tasharr again, alive and whole. It was better to see Growwhul, rushing through the Shadowlands, to embrace his estranged mate. To think that Chuundar had separated them, by selling Tasharr into slavery-

He was not the brother I had once known.

"What's your past, Dan Fett?" Canderous said, breaking the brief quiet. "Where have you been blooded? Were you active in the Wars?"

Dan Fett shifted, as if uncomfortable. His helm turned to point into the gloom, and his posture was stiff under his ill-fitting armour.

"Taris," Dan Fett said at last. His voice was arctic. "Duro. Jaga's Cluster."

"Huh," Canderous grunted, a considering tone evident in his voice. "So you served under Cassus."

"He was the leader of Fett," a cold reply shot back smoothly.

"You sing his battle songs?" Canderous demanded. "You honour his memory?"

Dan Fett dwindled into a silence that had Canderous raising his brows. I found myself staring at them again. Dan Fett may have been facing away from us, and his expression may have been concealed beneath a battered helm, but his lack of immediate answer was telling.

"You said it yourself, Ordo. A true Mandalorian values clan and honour above all else."

Canderous snorted. "And yet, that's not a kriffing answer, Fett. Cassus was your clan leader. You owe him your loyalty."

"I fought in the damn Wars," Dan Fett snarled, and it was the first real emotion I had heard from the dispassionate Mandalorian. "Cassus Fett would sacrifice anything, clan included, for nothing more than further standing in Mandalore's eyes. He didn't do it to win the damn war. He did it for his own perverse pleasure at slaughtering those weaker than him."

"I know of Cassus Fett," Canderous said. In contrast, Canderous sounded remarkably calm and unruffled. I had the distinct feeling he was pleased at finally getting under Dan of Fett's skin. "He was instrumental to our early success. Brilliant, ruthless, and a strategic genius. He was your damn leader. If you didn't respect him, then you should have challenged him."

"It's not always that simple, Canderous Ordo," Dan Fett said. His hand twitched, ever so slightly, toward his hip. I had thought the Mandalorian was disarmed, but it was possible he had left a concealed weapon on his body somewhere. "I followed an unworthy leader for a lot longer than I should have."

It would have to be a small weapon. Which did not mean it was not lethal.

"That's on your own head then, Fett," Canderous retorted. "You gotta make the choices you can live with."

With those words, Canderous struck a chord deep within me - for I had made tough choices, too. And while the stigma of madclaw would always lurk upon my soul, at least I had spoken truth.

Claws were a taboo, a throwback from our dark past when Wookiees had not mastered their own rrakktorr. It would have been acceptable had I thrown a punch at my nest-brother, or even pulled out a weapon. But lashing out with claws displayed a rabidity that was unacceptable, that any true Wookiee should have evolved from. A sign of madness from the days before we had found our souls.

I regretted the delivery of my actions, oh yes – but the actions themselves?

Once my words had been spoken, Chuundar would have found a way to exile me, to silence me – even had I kept my claws sheathed. For Father had not believed in Chuundar's dishonour, not then. And yet, had I the chance to walk back in time, I would not change my words. I would not say differently, and keep quiet against wrong doing.

For I had seen the weight of shame upon Drawwlog's shoulders, when I had entered Rwookrrorro with Jabakka. Drawwlog wore the aide's neckpiece with dishonour, and he knew it. His bowed back and slumped shoulders spoke the truth of his feelings, as did his gaze that had not been able to stay on mine for long.

Dan of Fett had turned back to face us, an armoured, anonymous figure whose attention was focussed exclusively on Canderous. "Sometimes, Ordo, it takes a lifetime to figure that out."

"Well, I was never particularly taken with Cassus myself," Canderous muttered, shrugging his shoulders in a dismissive fashion. "Sadistic shabuir. He may have led Fett to greatness, but he also damned them to decimation with his actions."

I did not understand Canderous at the best of times. Only a moment ago he had been praising this Cassus in an attempt to needle Dan of Fett, and now he seemed bored of the conversation. Even after all these years off-world, I still found humans – Mandalorian or otherwise – to be particularly contradictory.

Off-worlders were confusing.

Canderous' head tilted, as if he were eyeing Dan Fett over from beneath his visor. "Hiding a weapon from the Wookiees is damn idiotic," he said at last, and I understood my crewmate had not missed that slight, but telling, twitch on Dan Fett's part. "Look, Fett, I ain't gonna stop you following me, but I ain't protecting you either. Get in my way or the Wookiees', and it'll be your death."

"My death, my choice," Dan Fett muttered. "I need a ride out of here. I'll see if I can convince you yet."

A bark of laughter escaped Canderous. "You've got balls, I'll give you that."

They dwindled into silence; Canderous having said what he wanted, and Dan of Fett with no apparent reply. I could smell the perfume of lottie blossoms as the lift rose higher, the flowery scent of the herbs the Old Ones cultivated in the upper levels of the wroshyrs.

"(We are almost there)," Tasharr said, her head tilting upward. It was noticeably lighter, now. I felt the twist of apprehension in my belly, and wondered what we would find topside. Was Father facing Chuundar, right now?

Surely my brother had lost his support. Surely, my countrymen would now believe the truth.

"(Stay close)," I addressed Canderous. "(You may be attacked on sight if you are not with me or Tasharr)."

"He says we would stick with them," Dan Fett translated in a neutral tone.

"(And do not interfere)," Tasharr added. Her gaze homed in on the repeating blaster held in the firm grip of Canderous, before moving to trail over Dan Fett's armoured form. "(This is no business of off-worlders, no matter what aid has come before)."

It would sit in the craw of the Old Ones that we owed so much to an off-worlder. They did not see non-Wookiees as complete souls, not entirely. Most of my homefolk had never left Kashyyyk before, and did not comprehend that honour and dishonour could apply equally to any sentient, no matter their species.

"And we're to stay out of things, if we don't want to turn into Wookiee dinner." Dan Fett shrugged, an air of unconcern once more wrapped firmly about him. His stance had relaxed back into one of casual nonchalance – contrasting with Canderous who was taut with attention and purpose as he kept half an eye on the surroundings. Dan of Fett came across as a detached observer with no recognition of any potential threat to his person.

"You might still, Fett," Canderous muttered.

The basket halted with a familiar grinding of gears, and I heard a wuff of emotion from Tasharr. She had been absent for some time, shackled and enslaved, believing she would never set foot in Rwookrrorro again. The despair of that thought must had eaten into her soul, an Old One who had spent more than a century within the same village, not even departing when all her cubs had left the nest.

This would be quite a homecoming for her.

There was a young Wookiee waiting for us, a stolen Czerka rifle held awkwardly in his grasp. I did not recognize him, but judging by the scowl when his dark gaze landed on me, it was not a mutual unfamiliarity.

"(Growwhul asked me to wait)," he rumbled, his attention turning back to Tasharr. "(I know not why you are travelling with these-)"

"(Thank you, Kraytrron)," Tasharr spoke over him. Her voice remained mild, but the authority behind it was unmistakeable. "(Lead us, and fill me in on proceedings)."

He subsided, with a last glare at the Mandalorians, before falling into step next to the Old One. "(Fighting broke out as soon as Chorrawl breached Rwookrrorro with wild stores of Czerka pollution in our sacred Shadowlands. Many doubted him, but I did not. There has been something wrong with all the exiles, yours and Freyyr's chief amongst them)."

Tasharr inclined her head, as the two strode along the wooden paths that led deeper into the village. Normally, these walkways would be bustling with Wookiees, going about their daily business. Even when I had walked here with Jabakka mere days ago, intent upon reaching the Shadowlands, they had not been as empty as they were now.

But angry howls and fierce roars echoed from deeper within the walls of my home. I could only hope the bloodshed was not too great.

"(Chorrawl was soon overwhelmed, but then Freyyr arrived)." Kraytrron relayed, his long limbs hanging awkwardly by his side as if he did not know what to do with them. He was young, barely out of adolescence, and perhaps that was why I did not recognize him. "(There are many who feel the shame of not acting earlier, Old One. Many who feel the disgrace of keeping quiet)."

"(Let us focus on cleansing our village, Kraytrron. What of Chuundar?)"

"(The Old Ones were mediating at the Elder's Circle when Growwhul sent me back. Chuundar-)" Kraytrron paused briefly, throwing a suspicious look back to me over his shoulder, "(Chuundar was arguing that Freyyr's exile has clouded his mind. When I left, I heard Freyyr challenging Chuundar to face his honour in front of the gods)."

I sucked in a large gulp of air. Father had the build of a warrior, tall and muscular and fierce, and he had passed on his physique to Chuundar. But Father had aged in the six years I had been away, and his stint of exile had not done his physical form any favours.

I had noticed this immediately, even when we first reunited, even before Canderous had brought the freed Wookiees down to the Shadowlands.

"There is something ahead," Juhani murmured, her pointed ears drawing flat against the side of her face. After a brief rest, we were once more on the move.

Travelling through the Shadowlands with Juhani had been companionable, more so than I expected. The quiet that reigned between us did not have the awkward feel to it so common around off-worlders. Both Mission and Jen had a tendency to fill silence with meaningless chatter or superfluous observations.

I glanced sideways at Juhani. She stalked through my world with a warrior's grace, and easily matched my speed.

"(Is it what you sensed earlier?)"

Juhani shot me a brief frown as she tried to comprehend my words. Something, earlier, had the Cathar halting in alarm; head cocked, eyes roving the gloom, unease wafting from her short fur in acrid waves. She had not explained, and I deduced it must have been the Force. And Jen.

Whatever Juhani had been about to answer was interrupted by a reverberating howl of dissonance further ahead, a challenging warcry of a predator about to attack-

We both froze in readiness as a blurry figure rounded a large chocha bush, running at speed toward us.

He was a Wookiee. His fur was matted with grime and streaked with grey, and I did not recognize him. Obviously enraged at our presence, he closed in on Juhani, an outraised paw ready to strike.

"(Stop!)" I roared, as the Cathar ducked before leaping to the side. The Wookiee turned, and advanced on her again. "(We are not here to fight!)"

But my words had no effect on the stranger. Juhani held no lightsaber in her grasp, and her every step was a calculated retreat, an attempt to allow the aggressor to back down.

"(Off-worlder filth!)" the Wookiee howled, in a voice that was far more familiar to me than his bowed, straggled form.

"(Father!)" I yelled in shock. Oh, I knew that voice, be it calm or raised in righteous anger. "(Father, stop! It is I, Zaalbar!)"

His massive head jerked in my direction. His gaze, furious and near-rabid, was also clouded white with age. I saw the astonishment as it rippled through his face, eking away the anger and replacing it with bewilderment.

"(Father)," I echoed, and strode over with an outreached limb. "(It truly is me. This off-worlder is my ally, and means no harm to either you or Kashyyyk)."

Freyyr had listened, then, and his confusion slowly transformed into hope with every word I spoke. For my father had always held steady faith in the gods, and once he was truly convinced that I was there with him in the Shadowlands, he had decided my restoration was a sign of things to come.

Freyyr believed, deeply, that I had returned as his true heir. Even the taint of madclaw did not seem to dissuade him.

I did not know how to tell him that I would not be staying in Rwookrrorro.

The centre of my village was a round courtyard of roughly sawn planks, a large area for meetings and the telling of stories. Never had I seen it so full of bodies. Some lay in crumpled hairy heaps, and it tore at my heart to witness bloodshed amongst my own people.

Once, in ancient times, this sight was common. When Wookiees had not control over their rrakktorr, and turned claw upon each other.

In the centre of the Elder's Circle, my father stood facing he who had once been my brother.

My arrival was not unnoticed. Chuundar jerked his head in my direction, a furious scowl of recognition twisting his face.

"(Brother!)" Chuundar roared. "(I should have known this would be your doing. After all this time, you have returned to wreak ruin and disorder amongst our people. Our father named you well, madclaw!)"

A growl emitted from Freyyr. Standing against Chuundar, he looked old and bent with age. "(My second son spoke the truth from the beginning, Chuundar!)"

But there were a group of staunch Wookiees at Chuundar's back, encircling him in support, blades and bowcasters clasped grasped tight in their paws. Drawwlog stood, shoulders hunched in uncertainty, his gaze pinned on mine as one hand grasped the neckpiece that proclaimed him Chuundar's aide. And the eldest of the Old Ones, Jabakka, had a fierce glare turned on my father.

That surprised me.

"(You have been exiled, Freyyr)," Jabakka intoned in a low voice that nonetheless carried over the Elder's Circle. "(Exile can only be lifted by the true chieftain. Rather than cleansing your shame, you have returned to bring death into our encampment)."

"(Go)," Tasharr murmured from my side. "(The Old Ones are divided, but they should hear from you)."

I glanced back to see Canderous Ordo scowling at me.

"We ain't got much time, Carpet. If you're certain you're heading back to Jen, then get a move on."

I gave him a short nod, and stalked toward my father. There was a grumbling of discontent as my stride cleared the uneven wooden boards of the courtyard. There were so many memories of this location, evenings spent sampling fermented wasaka-berry juice whilst the Old Ones relayed fables and legends, the preparation rituals of young cubs about to head off on their hrrtayyk, ceremonies of mated ones declaring vows to one another-

And now, Wookiee blood stained the area. Chorrawl, young and fierce, stood over the fallen body of his brother as his glare focussed on Chuundar. Growwhul, standing stalwart at my father's side, faced off against his fellow Old One, Jabakka. Drawwlog, back bowed with the weight of his treachery, flanked Chuundar.

Brother against brother, friend against friend. All for Chuundar's ambition.

"(Chuundar has allowed Czerka to dig their poisoned claws into our planet!)" Chorrawl growled. "(He has sold his fellow Wookiees into slavery! Chuundar-)"

"(Off-worlder lies!)" Jabakka roared. He raised an accusatory paw, pointing directly at me. "(Look at who has reappeared, after claiming he would cleanse his shame in front of the gods. He brings off-worlders here, into the heart of Rwookrrorro, breeding discontent-)"

"(Do you doubt me, Jabakka?)" Growwhul raised his voice into the fray. "(Do you doubt Tasharr, who has spent days shackled in an alien ship, when Chuundar claimed she had been sent down to the Shadowlands-)"

"(I doubt what I cannot see with my own eyes-)"

"(Then come with me)," I interrupted, and all heads turned in my direction. "(All of you who doubt, come with me into the Shadowlands. I shall show you the Czerka lifts that Chuundar allowed. The traps full of dead tach to be processed. The encampments set up by off-world hunters brought here to strip our Kashyyyk of resources-)"

"(This is the voice of a madclaw)," Chuundar sneered, his eyes full of vitriol as he stared me down. "(A madclaw who was proven wrong years ago and should be no more than a ghost now!)"

Next to Chuundar, Drawwlog shuffled uneasily. My eyes turned to him.

"(Drawwlog)," I said, my voice dropping. "(Will you stay quiet once more? You knew, all those years ago, and hid the truth from Freyyr. I see the shame upon you, as you clutch at the baubles around your neck. You betrayed me. You betrayed Kashyyyk)."

He did not meet my gaze. Six long years ago, Drawwlog and Ruubarg had been the ones to tell me of the tach trade, to show me the depth of Chuundar's greed. But Ruubarg had been cast down by a mysterious illness, and Drawwlog had retreated into denial-

I sucked in a breath. Why? Why had Drawwlog back-pedalled? Unless… unless he was afraid of meeting the same fate?"(How did Ruubarg die?)" I gasped, glancing back to Chuundar. A flicker of emotion tightened his gaze, and I knew the truth, then, with a coldness that grieved me.

"(Chuundar)," I said sadly. "(You killed Ruubarg to silence him)."

A snarl of ferocity ripped from Chuundar, and he broke from the ranks, running forward-

Freyyr was there, but Chuundar was younger and stronger, and one massive swipe from his paw knocked my father straight to the ground.

"(This will end, now!)" Chuundar howled, and leaped toward me.

My arms raised in reflex, even though part of me was shocked frozen that it would end this way, with my stronger, older brother coming to strike me down-

And then Chuundar crumpled in mid-air, landing in a broken heap at my feet.

Dazed, I looked up to see Drawwlog, his bowcaster raised directly at where Chuundar had been.

An outpouring of howls erupted into mad cacophony, as I collapsed next to my brother. A charred, blackened hole gaped from the back of his head, and the acrid stench of burnt fur and blood sat heavy in the air. My brother. The grief was bitter, and surprising in its intensity. There was a rumbling in my chest, and I looked up through blurry eyes to see Drawwlog clutched firm in the grasp of others.

Freyyr was next to me then, one hand resting gently on the prone shoulder of what had once been my brother.

"(I have been blind)," my father murmured, his voice breaking. "(I must take part of the responsibility for this)." He breathed in, his gaze meeting mine.

"(It is true, then)," Growwhul said from some distance away. I could only stare at the slowly cooling corpse, as memories of my youth hit me with rapidly increasing emotion. Chuundar, steadying my grip on the first bowcaster I had held. Chuundar, explaining in detail how best to prepare for my upcoming hrrtayyk.

Chuundar, spewing forth lies in the throne room to protect his ambition at the cost of my honour. How had greed wormed its way so deeply into his soul?

"(Ruubarg's death was no accident)," Growwhul was still speaking, and I glanced up to see him advancing upon Drawwlog. "(The madclaw- Zaalbar spoke truth. Admit it, before us all, you who do not deserve to live, let alone wear the neckpiece of a chieftain's aide!)"

I heard a shuddering breath from Freyyr, his gaze remaining fixed upon the remains of Chuundar. He must have known that any reconciliation was impossible, and yet accepting the final outcome was likely the hardest thing either he or I had ever had to endure.

"(Kill him)," Chorrawl snarled. The fur around his neck bristled. "(Or I shall. It is time to wipe this taint from our homeworld!)"

Drawwlog's weapon had long been taken away, and he hung limply in the grasp of two Wookiees. He sensed his death, a dishonourable one through Wookiee justice, a blood-letting of vengeance-

"(No)," I said, struggling back to my feet. I blinked away the moisture in my eyes. "(No. There has been enough killing)."

Chorrawl's young face twisted with disgust, but Growwhul merely looked confused.

"(You plead mercy?)" Growwhul questioned. My father struggled to his feet, shoulders bent with grief, as Growwhul continued speaking. "(You, who have been dishonoured in part due to Drawwlog, would speak for him? Surely, you must understand that someone so unworthy cannot be allowed to live)."

"(I plead exile)," I spoke to Growwhul, but I was barely cognizant of the words as they tumbled from my mouth. "(One thing I have learned is that honour can come after dishonour. Drawwlog has long felt his shame. I smell it on him. Allow him the grace of seeking his own death in the Shadowlands, of appeasing his crimes in the eyes of the gods)."

How much the gods listened to us I did not know anymore. But it did not feel right to stand back while yet another Wookiee died by Wookiee hands. And Drawwlog may well have suffered more than I.

"(Exile)," Freyyr whispered. He exhaled, and then his posture seemed to swell with purpose. The rumblings of the crowd had ceased, and all attention slowly turned upon him. The feeling amongst the Wookiees had shifted, and although no one had spoken the words, I knew my father once more held the mantle of chieftainship. "(Both I and Zaalbar have suffered under this punishment unjustly. Perhaps it is time for exile to mean what it once did. Old Ones, what do you say?)"

There were quiet footsteps behind me. "(Your second son speaks with a wisdom beyond his years)," Tasharr said. "(I am in agreement)."

Growwhul's gaze was fixed on his mate. "(As am I)," he added.

Jabakka sighed, a deep broken sound that echoed across the courtyard. He stood across from me, surrounded by a small group of armed Wookiees that had backed Chuundar. The uncertainty was thick upon them, and they all looked to Jabakka, the eldest of the Old Ones, for guidance. His head bowed. "(I doubt my own counsel now, Freyyr. I am an old Wookiee, and this is for the chieftain to say. You… you are the chieftain. Perhaps there is much I have been blind to)."

Drawwlog's head lifted, at long last, and he stared at me from across the bloodied Elder's Circle. "(Thank you)," he whispered. "(I do not deserve this, not from you, but I will take the gift anyway)."

"(Get him away from here, then)," Chorrawl snarled, waving his arm dismissively in the direction of the Rwookrrorro waypoint. "(Let Drawwlog find his own end, while we chase the Czerka rot from our planet)."

There was a muttering of agreement from the crowd, and a few figures walked to Chorrawl's side. He had always been quick to anger, and intensely patriotic in his beliefs. Chorrawl, I felt, would storm the Czerka starport on his own if he had to.

I became aware of a clambering of footsteps, a further group of Wookiees heading toward the Elder's Circle now that the fighting had ceased. Most were nest-mothers with cubs on their shoulders, or trailing by their feet.

"(You want to attack the starport now?)" Growwhul rumbled, folding his arms as he stared down Chorrawl. "(We have wounded to heal, and dead to mourn. Czerka will still be here tomorrow)."

Drawwlog passed me, flanked by two armed guards, as he went to meet his fate. He met my gaze, but spoke nothing more. There was not anything more to say. In the end, his actions had spoken for him.

With a nod of respect, he raised his chin, and left the Elder's Circle.

"(Czerka are back-footed from our escape)," Chorrawl disagreed. "(The bloodlust runs through our veins now, Old One. It is time to strike)."

"(There are many who did not escape the starport)," Tasharr added. "(Their bodies lie in territory that Czerka have claimed as theirs)."

It surprised me, that Tasharr would offer an opinion against her mate. But Growwhul had not endured what Tasharr and Chorrawl had, the indignity and despair of impending slavery.

"(Zaalbar, my second son)," Freyyr intoned, his voice loud and clear. "(I would hear your thoughts. You have overcome trials which you should never have had to face. If you had not come back to Kashyyyk - against tradition, against the terms of your off-world exile - then Chuundar would still rule. Some of our people would be condemned to slavery, to an existence worse than death)."

I looked over the rest of the crowd, aware that all eyes were on me. Some held mistrust, some disgust, and some open curiosity. I took in a deep breath, and wondered at what words I could impart.

"(Czerka should not be allowed on Kashyyyk)," I began. "(But you must understand that Czerka Corporation is far mightier across the galaxy than any of you know. We can claim grievance against them, but they were acting with the acceptance of he who was your chieftain)."

There was a shuffling of feet at this. "(Chuundar is not our leader now, Zaalbar)," Freyyr said. "(Slavery has always been an abomination, and Czerka defiled our laws when they partook in this practice)."

"(They are filth we must scrape off)," Chorrawl growled. "(No more honourless off-worlders should be allowed on Kashyyyk, now we have seen first-hand what they are capable of)."

"(I hold no respect for Czerka or their dealings. But not all off-worlders lack honour, Chorrawl)," I said. "(I went to the Shadowlands to find my father, but it was my ally, an off-worlder-)" I halted, throwing an arm backward to gesture at Canderous Ordo, "(who enabled the rescue of our enslaved. And he was not alone. A young Twi'lek cub, who is as dear to me as a daughter, aided him. I have other allies on Kashyyyk, whom I have travelled with, and they may also have played a part)."

I looked around, and did not think I was convincing. Growwhul was frowning in discontent, and I knew the reminder of off-world aid would not be a pleasant one. But how could I make them see? Tarring all non-Wookiee with the same brush was both incorrect and blind.

I turned back to Freyyr. "(Father, I hold a life-debt to a human. Knowing little of me, she saved my life twice, once at great risk to herself. She holds more honour than Chuundar did. Do you not see? Things are not simply black or white, Wookiee or not-Wookiee)."

"(A life-debt?)" Freyyr mused, his forehead bunching. "(Zaalbar, I hear your words, and I can accept that some off-worlders may not be as soulless as we would like to believe. But that does not mean we should accept them on Kashyyyk)."

His openness surprised me. I had thought that Freyyr would rail against the idea of off-worlders having virtue of any sort. "(I am not sure I am advocating that, father. Merely that we should not remain unsighted as to what is out there. The galaxy is large, and there are powerful forces out there)."

"(Then we should do nothing to warrant their interest. But Czerka must be removed from Kashyyyk. The only question is when)." Freyyr paused, before raising his voice to a command that echoed throughout the crowd. "(Zaalbar, my second son. You are my heir now. I believed my eldest child six years ago, as custom dictates, but I was wrong to do so)."

The words were a balm to my battered soul.

"(Your son spoke of a life-debt to an off-worlder)," Growwhul grumbled, and Freyyr's gaze sharpened.

"(Life-debts are not common, and I have not heard of one given to a non-Wookiee)." My father sighed. "(Perhaps we can fulfil your debt in a material way that will appease your off-worlder's morality. For, Zaalbar, your place is here in Rwookrrorro. The gods have restored you as well as me. Together, we shall reclaim our planet from Czerka, and then you will take your place as my heir)."

It was… tempting, despite my conviction to follow Jen Sahara. I longed for days spent amongst the wroshyrs, away from the pollution and greed that I found inherent on other planets. Jen would release me from the life-debt if I asked. She was not one to hold someone against their will.

But I heard a whisper from someone in the crowd. Madclaw. I may have uncovered the truth of Chuundar's nature, but I was still struck with disgrace that did not easily fade.

One does not strike one's own with one's claws.

"(Father-)"

Freyyr moved closer to me, placing heavy paws on my shoulders. Perhaps there was uncertainty on my face, for he seemed to realize I was unsure of my path. "(Zaalbar, you belong here. You have travelled a hard road, and it is now time to come home)." My father's voice lowered, quiet enough to be a mere whisper between us. "(My son, you were wrong to raise your claws against your brother, but our people will come to accept this as just the wildness of youth. If you leave to follow your off-world ties… Zaalbar, if you leave, I must train another successor. And then, were you to return another day-)"

He did not finish his sentence. He did not have to, for I could see the shape of the future he illustrated.

As Freyyr's only true-blooded son still living, I held first claim to chieftainship. Although this could be challenged by the Old Ones, in general it was not. One only had to look at Chuundar's reign to see that the Old Ones preferred to counsel rather than dictate leadership.

If I left Kashyyyk, and returned some indeterminate time later, it could cause a schism between those who believed blood should rule, and those who followed Freyyr's chosen successor. Whoever that would be, it would be a Wookiee who had not left our home for off-world matters, and who did not hold the stigma of madclaw.

"(Stay)," Freyyr murmured. It was half-plea, half-command.

I could see my future. Setting down roots, finding my place once more. Sharing my experiences with my people, and enjoying the solitude that was easy to find on Kashyyyk. This world brimmed with life, pure and dangerous and beautiful, and nothing I had seen elsewhere in the galaxy could compare.

I would be happy. One day, I might have a cub or two of my own. I had never desired chieftainship, but I could set my mind to it and be worthy of the responsibility-

But I would have to forget my debt to Jen Sahara. I would have to ignore my part in Bastila Shan's capture. I would have to accept a parting of ways with Mission, whom I could not see electing to stay on my homeworld by choice.

The first two, I could only do by compromising my honour. My brother had spent his years doing just that.

"(Father, when I swore my life-debt to Jen Sahara, I meant the words. My own integrity demands I aid her until my vow is fulfilled. I cannot choose any other course of action and hold my head high)."

Freyyr's gaze was still and black. "(You might spend all your days travelling the stars, Zaalbar. Or, if you do return-)"

"(If I do, I would not wish to cause unrest amongst our people)." I knew, then, what I had to do. I had never desired chieftainship, but now the possibility was there, it made the next words difficult. I thought of my brother again, who had spent his lifetime disgracing the position, and knew I could do a better job.

I cleared my throat, and spoke the next words loud enough to be heard by all. "(In the eyes of the gods, I hereby rescind any claim to chieftainship. Honour compels me to leave Kashyyyk, and Rwookrrorro must carry the torch of leadership without me. One day, the gods be willing, I will return. But not with any claim to the position of chieftain)."

I heard someone rumble in the crowd. My father closed his eyes, but not before I saw a flash of grief cloud them, and it turned my stomach. My gaze skittered over his shoulder to Jabakka, the Old One who had backed Chuundar and despised my return.

He nodded at me in approval.

Freyyr breathed in a deep gust of air, and turned to address the crowd. "(Listen to my son! His insight humbles me. Truly, Zaalbar speaks with a depth of honour that is rarely heard. I am proud to call him my son)."

He threw his arms around me then, tight, and for a brief moment I was a cub once more, protected and loved by my authoritative father.

"(Take your good judgement with you)," Freyyr rumbled, "(and teach the off-worlders you meet what Wookiee wisdom is. Then, the gods willing, come back to us)."

He released me, and I saw Tasharr had walked closer, with both Canderous Ordo and Dan of Fett trailing in her wake. There was a considering gleam in her eyes as she laid a paw on my shoulder. "(Return to Kashyyyk one day, Zaalbar. You will be missed.)"

"(Czerka)," Chorrawl's intense growl cut through our conversation. "(Every minute we delay is an affront. Let us finish this)."

"It's time to head out, Carpet," Canderous grumbled from behind me.

Growwhul frowned at Chorrawl, and looked ready to object, again. The Old One desired Czerka gone from Kashyyyk, the same as every Wookiee still standing in the Elder's Circle, but he doubted the timing of an attack.

And then I recalled the information Carth Onasi had relayed earlier. My people knew little of the Sith, and had minimal interest in the Republic. Off-world events were of no interest to Wookiees, unless they touched on Kashyyyk directly.

This one might yet. But we could definitely turn it to the advantage of Rwookrrorro.

"(Father)," I said. "(There are off-world ships in orbit around our planet. I have had word from the pilot I travel with that a potential fight between Republic and Sith forces is brewing in our skies. Czerka staff begin to scatter in fear of what this might mean. There has never been a better time to capture their starport than right now)."

Freyyr's expression creased with puzzlement. "(A battle above us? Why would off-worlders be interested in Kashyyyk?)"

If I had time, perhaps I could explain about the Star Map, and the galactic quest the Ebon Hawk had embarked upon at the bequest of a powerful Jedi. But the name Bastila Shan would be unknown here, and the impatience rolling off Canderous Ordo told me that time was a luxury I did not wield. And now that I had committed to my decision, I, too, felt the urgency to leave.

For the Ebon Hawk would only invite the orbital bombardment Jen Sahara had warned of. It must leave Kashyyyk, and so must I.

"(There is a great war being staged across the galaxy, father. Suffice to say that now is our opportunity)."

"(Let us go, then!)" Chorrawl roared. He held a Czerka blaster rifle raised high in his grip. "(Even the madcl- even Freyyr's son is in agreement!)"

"(You are sure, Zaalbar?)" Freyyr questioned, as a low rumble of readiness grew from the crowd.

I nodded briskly. "(I am, father. But allow me and my ally to lead the way. I have friends and a ship in the starport that cannot be attacked)." I looked back to Canderous again, aware of the murmured translation from his Mandalorian companion.

"I ain't offered you a place on my ship, Fett," Canderous warned, aiming a flat look at Dan Fett. "Force the issue and you'll regret it."

The armoured Mandalorian shrugged. "I'm not out of time to change your mind yet, Ordo. Besides, if you won't grant me a lift, then I have to get to the starport to find another ride anyway."

"(Let us move out, then!)" Freyyr howled, and a chorus of Wookiees agreed. "(Zaalbar will lead us to reclamation!)"

The roar of my people grew to a deafening clamour of righteousness. I motioned to Canderous, took one last, long look around my home, and began the walk back to the Czerka starport.

xXx