Writer's notes - Updated 04/07/2007 - Big mahalo to BaM for the beta, which resulted in a major rewrite. We are still on the theme of the rise and fall of kings.
Kingmaker – Part II
Kashyyyk – The Village of Rwookrorro
The Chief's Lodge was a cavernous structure of ancient wood and modern metal; a fusion of tradition and offworld influence. The massive Wroshyr-wood doors opened into a spacious interior framed by deep brown walls, richly colored tapestries woven of rich fabrics, and intricate carvings that decorated the ornate pillars holding up the vaulted ceiling.
The lodge had been the seat of power for Kashyyyk for centuries, housing the great Wookiee chiefs. It had been off limits to non-Wookiees until three years ago when Freyyr was deposed. Now, the stench of Czerka Corp permeated its wooden halls.
Freyyr eyed his eldest son with suspicion and allowed him to enter first. Chuundar appeared to be the recalcitrant son, bowing low and opening his hands in supplication. Freyyr nodded cautiously and saw Chuundar's guard lining the hall, standing at attention.
"We offer you the respect that you deserve, Father," the black-furred Wookiee purred and motioned deeper into the hall. "Please, have your friends and guard join us." With respectful ceremony, he led the older Wookiee, his guards, and the team past the line of his own guards, who each bowed as Freyyr strode by. With each passing step the old Wookiee grew more confident…more relaxed.
Chuundar walked around the seats and his entourage spread slowly throughout the hall. His Wookiee guard bowed low to him, but Freyyr and his friends remained still. "Father, much has changed since you left," he said in a sad tone. His posture was sunken, indicating subservience. "I am afraid that I have much to learn yet. I am in need of your council."
Freyyr's suspicions began to evaporate and his heart jumped in his massive chest. Could things be as they once were? Could this nightmare be over? He had suffered so much agony and humiliation these past years. He almost believed it when they began to call him 'Madclaw'.
Chuundar made eye contact with him and his face was so inviting. With a grand flourish, he offered the old chief the seat of honor within the lodge. "Father, please be comfortable. You have been away far too long," he said submissively. Chuundar clapped his giant hands impatiently. "Quickly, food and drink for the Chief! Can't you see Freyyr has returned?"
Without thinking, Freyyr took it all too eagerly, the three years of dreaming of his lost kingdom while eking out a miserable existence like a feral beast had made him desperate and more than a little mad. In the back of his mind, an instinct warned him that something was wrong, but the joy of finally fulfilling his dream of returning to the lodge with his sons reunited was too powerful, dulling his senses. He so much wanted to believe that everything would be as it once was, and his initial martial fervor faded away.
As the old Chief sat, he saw Zaalbar already positioned on a cushion on the floor of the lodge with the human Carth next to him. The Twi'lek girl, Mission, ran up to Freyyr's son, the look on her face one of great relief. "Z, are you okay? Boy, this is becoming a habit…my having to rescue you."
Zaalbar chortled, though Freyyr thought the laugh sounded forced. Perhaps it was the stress of his situation or the two Czerka guards he saw when he looked back. Freyyr dismissed it as he settled into the warm seat. His sons would be reunited under him. He would be a king again.
Elsewhere in the Lodge
Aerin and the rest entered behind Freyyr and sat. She looked over to see that Carth and Zaalbar were already there. Carth, who looked unwashed and unshaven, gave her a curt nod.
Aerin returned the gesture, her expression strained with her face taut, her eyes searching the lodge.
"Have they treated you well, Carth?" she asked.
He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "Well, I could use a bath," he quipped as he took a sniff of himself. Carth could always be counted on for a witty comeback when things were tense.
Aerin smirked at the grand display and looked around, not wanting to observe the spectacle. Her eyes wandered around the room and she absently took count of the team.
Where's Canderous? she thought as HK came and stood behind her, ever vigilant. She furrowed her brows, searching for the Mandalorian, but he was nowhere to be seen.
At the Chief's Seat
Around Chuundar, Wookiees bowed and fawned over him and he played up the ceremony, nodding and warbling back to his cronies. Musicians and dancers played for the crowd, setting a lively atmosphere within the hall. Freyyr, the old Wookiee, allowed himself a toothy smile as he remembered the old festivities that had played out here in years past.
Finally, Chuundar clapped his hands loudly and the players scurried off. After the ostentatious courtesies to Chuundar were finished, the new chief sat next to Freyyr.
"Father, you are most welcome again in our hallowed halls. As a gesture of good will, I have invited your friends to sit with us during our parley."
Freyyr made quick eye contact with Aerin and nodded. Then, he looked back at Chuundar. "That is good of you, my son," he said, but then his voice became stern and cautious. "However, look at our world now…infected with Czerka core slime…slavers, who take our people!"
Chuundar splayed his hands as if in sincere apology. "Father, what I did, I did for the good of Kashyyyk. Our world is now prosperous, enriched by the technology and wealth of our allies."
Freyyr grunted disapproval and growled softly. "But what of our traditions? What of our stewardship over the forest? Chuundar, can we not go back to the way it was before?" he asked, almost pleading. His fire of resistance was burning low and he longed for his agony to be over. He could see the end in sight – if only Chuundar would embrace him again.
Chuundar sighed as if growing impatient, then shook his head, as if disappointed in a child. It was becoming clear that the son was gaining the upper hand and would press his advantage. "Father…Father, the world changes. If we do not adapt, we run the risk of losing everything to those with more power. The old way is dying…I must create a new dynasty, a strong dynasty. Speak to Zaalbar, he is beginning to understand."
The old chief looked to his younger son, his growl rising, demanding Z's response to what he had just heard.
Zaalbar bit his lip and ruffled his fur with his hands. "Chuundar has said many things of the new prosperity of Kashyyyk, Father. Some of these things make sense…." Although his words were clear and confident, his expression was not. His eyes sought for real answers. Zaalbar looked at Aerin. "Please, Aerin Dakar…I am confused."
The Jedi could see Freyyr and Zaalbar being worn down by Chuundar's force of will. She stood at her seat with Juhani and Jolee at her side. "Zaalbar, you must trust me. You can't condone the enslavement of your own people. You must discuss this with Chuundar as a condition of reconcilement. We must put an end to it."
Juhani nodded emphatically in agreement, even as Chuundar burst from his seat and stomped aggressively toward the Jedi, towering over them in melodramatic fashion. The massive muscles of his arms were tensed and his hand gripped his giant glaive's handle.
The coal-black Wookiee glowered at them. "Offworlders, you are here only by my whim. Do not anger me!" he bellowed and he drew his Cortosis-woven glaive, shaking it at them. Aerin could see the razor-sharp edge dancing in front of her face and she stepped back a pace.
She glanced over to see HK's eyes brighten and a small flame ignite near his hand where his flame thrower was.
Zaalbar also bristled. "Brother, please do not threaten my friends."
Chuundar scowled and his guards moved forward, only to be met with Freyyr's own Wookiees. The earlier goodwill seemed to dissolve instantly as Chuundar's faction became more and more aggressive, shouting insults and brandishing fists.
I don't understand, thought Aerin. It seems as if Chuundar wants a confrontation now.
As the Wookiees on the floor began yelling and shoving at each other Aerin thought she glimpsed a pinprick of red light settling on the back of Freyyr's head, but she lost the optical sights of a sniper rifle in the resulting tumult.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. By the Force, this is an assassination. We've been set up by Chuundar.
Fear gripped her body and she inhaled deeply, extending the Force around her, looking for the sniper. Something was amiss, but she could not find it. Scanning quickly across the lodge, there seemed to be a void, an absence of the Force.
I must act now!
She saw Freyyr rise, shouting for everyone to be silent as he waved his hands wildly, trying to settle the growing conflict. Aerin acted without thinking, thumbing her lightsabers to life as she rushed the old Chief, weapons held forward. He gasped at the sight of her, lunging at him with lightsabers blazing. "Treachery!" he managed to yell before Aerin slashed away two blaster bolts aimed at Freyyr's head.
In unthinking reaction, Freyyr kicked her away with his enormous foot and she fell to the floor with a grunt. Blaster bolts from above crashed into Freyyr's Wookiee guards and three of his loyal guard fell sprawling with the spray of blood and fur. His ruse now uncovered, Chuundar drew his massive, Czerka-forged glaive and split the head of another Wookiee. "I will end this once and for all!" he yelled and smashed Jolee with his enormous fist.
Old Bindo collapsed to the ground senseless as Juhani moved to defend him. From her seat, Bastila rolled backward off of her cushion and stood, powering her lightsaber and thrusting it up into the open mouth of a Czerka guard. As the guard dropped like a masterless puppet, Carth seized his pistol and shot the other guard in the forehead.
As Zaalbar gaped in horror at the ruined reconciliation, the lodge came alive with the flashes of blaster fire and swinging blades. Wookiees of both factions tumbled and fell, but only Chuundar's forces entered to replace the slain; they controlled the only entryway.
At the lodge center, Chuundar deftly parried Juhani's strikes and pressed her sparkling blade down with his tremendous strength. With his left hand, he grasped her throat like a vise and lifted the Cathar clear off of the ground. He flexed his massive arms, preparing to crush her windpipe with his bare hands, but a sudden burst of flames seared his back, causing the Wookiee to drop his prey and howl in pain.
Other Wookiees ran madly about, swathed in flames like their chieftain as HK pumped them with short bursts from his flame thrower. "Gleeful Statement: Napalm sticks to Wookiees."
Nearby, Bastila swirled her double-bladed weapon about her body, slicing the arms off of one Wookiee. Switching to a Soresu Form, she whirled about, blade spinning in an iridescent yellow arc to deflect a pair of blaster bolts aimed for her backside, but another Wookiee took advantage of her distraction by tackling her from behind. With both hands, he smashed her on the floor repeatedly like a rag doll, a sickening crunch sounding with every strike. As the Wookiee grasped Bastila's limp neck and let out a fierce war cry, a bolt from Carth's blaster splattered his brains over the lodge floor.
The commander turned, trying to pick friend from foe, but a sniper shot smashed into his violet breastplate, hurling him backward. As he lay on his back, stunned, he could see Bastila's bloody face and Aerin spinning wildly holding back three Wookiees. Carth shook his head and tried to stand.
Unbeknownst to him, ruby crosshairs were centered on his head. Before his would-be killer could pull the trigger, however, the sniper's world exploded as Canderous' bolt tore into his back between the shoulder blades and he fell screaming from the rafters. Across the lodge, another sniper fell to a precise shot from Mission, even as a nearby wall exploded and Wookiees of Freyyr's faction crashed through the new hole. The Wookiee, Jaarak leapt through the hole, his face twisted with thirst for retribution. Seemingly frenzied, he led the charge against Chuundar, as young Woorwill followed him in.
In the center of the lodge, Zaalbar and Freyyr rushed at the smoking Chuundar. The coal-black Wookiee threw a pewter mug into Zaalbar's face, stunning him, and then traded blows with Freyyr. The old Wookiee took a slash across the cheekand his blood began to seep into his matted fur, but he paid it no mind in his frenzied attack.
From the side, Jaarak howled in rage and charged at Chuundar with reckless abandon. Seeing the mad rush, the Chieftain barely managed to side step the attack and impaled Jaarak with the mighty glaive, sinking the razor-sharp blade deep into the old Wookiee's guts. Jaarak screamed, but grasped the shaft of the glaive with his huge hands.
"Now, you die, traitor!" he growled through bloody teeth, pulling the blade deeper into himself despite the agony, freezing it in place.
Pulling frantically at his weapon, Chuundar's eyes grew big with surprise and horror just as Freyyr sliced his arm off and the limb crashed to the floor. Running up beside his father, Zaalbar thrust his glaive into Chuundar's chest and Aerin slashed him down the back with two long, raking cuts, searing flesh and bone. Blood gurgled up from Chuundar's mouth as Zaalbar twisted the blade deeper into his foe's sternum. With a mighty heave, Zaalbar pulled his glaive from Chuundar's broken body, leaving the corrupt chief to pitch forward, wheezing weakly as the life fled from his body. The red necklace, Chuundar's symbol of oppression, fell broken from his neck, scattering its stones across the blood-stained floor. Immediately, Chuundar's forces and their Czerka allies threw down their weapons and begged for mercy.
Jaarak collapsed with the upstart chief; his life was now spent. The Law Keeper and Woorwill rushed to Jaarak's side as he spat his last breath. "Woorwill," old Jaarak gurgled, "forget about Roorworr, you are the hero now. You stood up for freedom. You fought against tyranny."
The young Wookiee looked back at his mentor, not fully understanding what he had just heard. "Forgive me, I slew Roorworr. He was a traitor to his people. You must know this," he said quietly before his eyes rolled upward.
Woorwill fell backward in shock and horror. "Noooo," the young Wookiee roared, shaking his head at the truth of his hero's demise.
The Keeper of the Law laid his hands on the young Wookiee and took him aside to tell him of Roorworr's treachery.
In the center of the blood-spattered lodge, Freyyr and Zaalbar howled in grief for Chuundar, mourning his fall despite his evil.
When rending groan died away, the reinstated chief looked over to his last living son and hid his face. "I cannot look upon you. My failure has caused twenty years of agony for you and for my people. My son, I am not worthy to lead. You must now bear the burden of being the chieftain."
Zaalbar took a step back and his eyes grew wide. He bit his lip as if deep in thought, but before he could answer, a young Twi'lek tugged his arm.
Standing to the side, Mission's eyes grew wide. "Zaalbar…you're a chief? I…I always thought you were just…just like me. You know…a nobody."
The giant Wookiee looked down at his friend with a reassuring smile. "Mission, we are more alike than you can know. It was your courage that brought me this far. When I am truly Chief, you will always have a place here." He then looked to his father and knelt. "I kneel to the true chief," he said, bowing his head. "You have restored our family to honor and your past has been cleansed." Then, he looked over to his traveling companions and continued, "Father, I have work yet to be done. I have pledged a life debt to follow Aerin Dakar and will meet any fate that awaits her. I will return one day, but the people need their leader now and that leader is you, Father."
Freyyr blinked as if surprised and then knelt before his son. Gently, he reached out and took Zaalbar's hands. "I…am humbled by the wisdom of my son. Let us bury our dead and prepare to drive out the Czerka." Then, the chief rose and held his glaive over his head. He looked over to his guard and commanded, "Send runners to the other villages and rally the Wookiees. The time of enslavement is over."
Freyyr's commanding presence brought a roar of approval from the crowd and even Chuundar's Wookiees joined the cause. The bustle of activity grew within the village and the team helped the Wookiees to inter the slain in the Shadowlands. It was important for them to lay the dead to rest before any further battle could be joined. There, Komad Fortuna, the Twi'lek from far off Tatooine, was laid to rest with honor, acknowledged as a hunter to the end. Alongside of him, Jedi Knight, Guun-Han Saresh was interred and the living Jedi gave thanks to his having joined with the Force.
Aerin and Juhani sat beside Komad's grave as Canderous cleaned his weapons farther away, trying to distract himself. The Cathar sighed. "How many have died for freedom? How many on Taris perished for the cause of stopping Malak? How many more will die before we achieve victory or defeat?"
Aerin blinked, trying to stifle the raw emotions that Juhani's question brought up. "Basically," she said after a moment, her voice sarcastic, "you mean, how many have died so that we can complete this 'heroic' mission?" The Padawan wrestled with her feeling, unsure of her conviction to complete this quest, but she refrained from further comment.
Nearby, HK groused as he poured dirt over some graves. "Disgruntled Protest: I am only programmed to kill them, not cover them up too."
Bastila came and sat down next to them. She had heard their conversation and looked at the two other Jedi sternly. "I did not board Darth Revan's ship and fight her just to fail now. I am sorry for the deaths of those who fought for our cause and of the innocents, but we cannot allow that to deter our mission."
Juhani pursed her lips, feeling chastised. "You are right, of course. We must persevere in our quest. After what I endured on Taris and how the Jedi saved me, I would gladly give my life to free others. I am glad we will help the Wookiees to be liberated. It's just that in the face of all the pain and suffering that exists in this galaxy, it just seems like just another drop in the bucket. It never ends," she said, trailing off into a whisper.
Aerin nodded and furrowed her brows. "Yes, so it seems, but like you said, we must persevere. In the end, all we can do is hope that our actions somehow influence the greater good."
Deep in the untapped recesses of her mind, a long-suppressed memory formed in her subconscious, taking her to a different time and place.
She enters a dark chamber and a Sith Lord turns to confront her. He is dressed in silver armor with high boots. With a flick of his wrist, he snaps his lightsaber to life, its thin, red blade shooting forth, hissing with deadly hunger. Seeing Aerin, he stops and a curious expression comes over his face as if he recognizes her. "So, you've come to take your rightful place?" he asks in a challenging way.
Then, as the vision cleared, she shook her head to clear it. These dark portents were becoming routine for her now and she choked the feelings of power down into her gut. "Yes, we must endure," she said in a cool monotone.
The Village of Rwookrorro – Late EveningFreyyr and Zaalbar sat, deep in conversation within the lodge talking about the future of Kashyyy while Aerin sat with the team nearby, enjoying the respite. Finally, after darkness fell, Freyyr and Zaalbar stood, their discussions concluded for the moment. Once again as father and son, they chief walked over to the humans and sat on their haunches.
"I must thank you people…" Freyyr growled. "For offworlders, you have demonstrated rare courage and trustworthiness. Zaalbar and I have determined that we must throw the Czerka off of Kashyyyk and have come up with our plan. However, that is for tomorrow. Tonight, we shall have a small celebration and honor the Wookiee traditions. Bacca be praised."
On his command, Wookiees brought refreshments from the forest and long, wooden musical instruments for entertainment. The massive woodwind, called a Digeridoo, made low, resonating tones, striking deep chords within Aerin's psyche. A group of Wookiees played deep into the night while great platters of food and draughts of thick ale made the rounds.
Amid the rumble of music, Canderous drank deeply from a wooden mug as he polished his Mandalorian armor, buffing out the blaster residue. "This harness can take a pounding in battle," he told the marine Kyle Durren with a hint of pride, "but you have to maintain it well." He nodded in satisfaction as he replaced the straps. Canderous was famous among his people for his meticulous preparations for conflict. His weapons were always sparkling and he never lacked for equipment in a pinch.
Canderous had come to appreciate the forest world. The hunt and the action on this planet had kept him well occupied and he had come to respect some of the ways of the Wookiees. "I am glad that they have learned to fight for what is theirs again," he said boldly before turning back to the marine. "We must be ready; there will be more battle tomorrow."
Then, the mercenary thought for a moment and raised his mug. "To Komad…a worthy hunter."
Kyle too, was maintaining his gear, field stripping his blaster and running a cleaning rod down the barrel to remove any ionic residue. The marine was thankful that he had been selected for this mission, but often wondered about the youthful leadership of the team. He had been in numerous battles from Malachor on and knew how good teams could break under brittle commanders.
I'd fight for Captain Onasi any day. Why wasn't he put in command? Bastila is too high strung and Aerin is too audacious.
He looked over at Bastila, who sat with a bandage around her head. He was glad she wasn't seriously injured.
From an open hut nearby, the sound of hammering could be heard. Freyyr stood behind a muscular Wookiee, who was reforging Bacca's Sword. Sparks of orange and yellow flew into the air around the Wookiees as the hilts and the blade were melded back into one.
When the process was completed, Freyyr took the massive weapon with its alien alloys and rotated it in his grasp. The balance was perfect and the edge, keen. It would slice through all but the stoutest of armors. The chief held the blade high above his head and bellowed, "Bacca be praised! Come here my son."
Zaalbar approached and knelt before his father.
"Rise, my son. Accept this, the symbol of authority of the Wookiees, as my penance. It is yours, my son. Wield it with justice. We shall await your return to the bosom of Kashyyyk, when you shall tell us all of your exploits."
Zaalbar's eyes grew wide with shock. "Father…I…I cannot."
Freyyr shook his head vehemently. "You have earned it, son. You will rule the Wookiees one day."
From the gathered crowd, Mission stood and shouted, "Z, whaddya stupid or something? C'mon!"
Zaalbar coughed nervously and accepted the great sword. "I shall do justice to your gift, Father. I will fulfill my lifedebt and bring honor to our people."
Aerin translated this for Carth and the others. She let out a contented sigh. "After all we have been through…the death and sacrifice, it is things like this that give me hope."
Carth shrugged, indifferent. "I hate to say it, but I'm past hope. All I have now is duty. I think Zaalbar understands that." He rubbed his freshly shaven chin, his eyes distant as he contemplated something in his past.
Aerin came behind him and rubbed his shoulders. He flinched and then tried to move away, but Aerin held him in place. "Hey, I'm just returning the favor. I'm not asking you to trust anyone."
He sighed and his shoulders relaxed a bit as she worked her fingers into his tense muscles, kneading out several knots. He winced as she focused on a particularly tense point near his neck. "Man, I'm not as young as I use to be. When I first joined up, I could fight all day, drink all night, and be ready to go at the crack of dawn."
Aerin chuckled. "Carth, it's not the age, it's the mileage." She slid her fingers up to the sides of his temples and ran them along his hairline to ease out more of his stress.
Carth closed his eyes for a moment, but then opened them and turned to face Aerin. She gave him a quizzical look with the hint of a smile. Carth grasped her hands and moved them from his head. "I…I," is all he could say. He gazed at Aerin, her raven hair hung damply in the misty air, framing her rosy cheeks. Her gray eyes bored into him.
Aerin licked her lips and leaned in toward Carth and his heart skipped a beat. Their lips met.
"Padawan Dakar, what are you doing?" interrupted Bastila sternly, causing the two to scramble apart, flustered and red. "There is still a Star Map to find, or have you forgotten?"