Chapter 13

"I wish we had a protocol droid," the commander grumbles.

"We don't need one," Gary replies. "King Gorneesh speaks basic, his wife Urgah too."

"How'd the compound end up trading with them?"

"It's not just them; most imperials trade with them," Gary explains as they walk. "You can only eat so many protein sticks and rations. Blurrg is good, but the boar-wolf is delicious. I used to roast a pig on Life Day. Lantern birds aren't bad either."

The commander groans, "Ignoring the protocols that violate and security risks it poses-"

"Yes, besides that," Gary nods vigorously.

"-and the fact that I've only eaten rations for years now. If General Syndulla had offered a pig roast, I might have surrendered."

Gary roars with laughter, "Definitely. Since we're laying all the cards on the table, she's not hard to look at either."

"She'd cut your throat in a heartbeat," the commander points out. "She's a terrorist!"

"I'm not saying it won't be difficult," Gary fights not to laugh. "But love finds a way."

The commander's palm smacks his helmet. Still chuckling, he waves for Gary to stop. "Enough screwing around; anything else I need to know before we reach this gate?"

"The Duloks think they're smart and know the land, but their cunning is childlike. They ride blurrgs and eat them. The village has a motte and bailey layout: the king's relatives live in the motte while the rest insulate the leaders from attacks from the surrounding bailey. They have an arena, but I've never seen them use it."

"How was the Empire's relationship with them?"

"Surprisingly good," Gary answers. "Despite our anti-alien directives, they supplied meat regularly and asked for little in exchange. They respected our power and authority."

"Not enough to keep them from stealing the vane," the commander reminds him. "Did you bring something to trade? I forgot, and all I have are rations and what's on me."

"Yes," Gary pats a bag hooked on his utility belt.

"Okay, I'll let you take the lead because you have experience. Wait-look there."

From a dozen paces away, Duloks ransack a rebel shuttle. They throw out crates of supplies while removing seats, then testing them on the ground around the shuttle.

"They're not bright," Gary admits as they approach the gates. The Duloks raise spears and spiked clubs, but there's no hostility behind it. The commander examines the furred creatures with their crudely painted fur and floppy ears. Gary pauses beyond their hearing, "There's not nearly enough Duloks. The gate is always well guarded, especially with-visitors."

"Doesn't matter. We need that emitter."

Gary slings his carbine then yells, "Good friends, we come to trade!"

One yells, "We don't have magic spear! You go to witch!"

"Magic spear?" The commander looks at Gary.

"They must mean the emitter vane. It kinda looks like a spear," Gary shrugs.

Suddenly, a roar of excitement rises from the village. The commander looks, along with every visible member of the hamlet. Achingly, they stare at the arena; it's impossible not to. A gasp follows, by held breath before another roar of excitement.

The Dulok's shoulders slump, looking back at them, "You go to witch. Go. Now."

"Where is the witch? Can you show me on our map?" Gary asks, displaying the datapad. The warrior stares simplemindedly until Gary explains the datapad to him. Then he points, and Gary marks the coordinates. "It's in a restricted area; I guess we know why-"

Another roar drowns him out. The villagers stare longingly, and the commander shares their feeling. The rush of excitement, of competition, of hanging on a gladiator's every move.

"What I wouldn't give to sit, relax, and watch for a few hours," he laments. The commander would know that feeling anywhere, not just fighting but racing and sports too.

"I don't like them; it seems cruel," Gary says before asking. "What's going on there?"

The Dulok guard looks away suspiciously, "Nuthin…"

The commander motions to Gary, who opens his pouch to reveal some soap. The Duloks howl excitedly until the largest swats them away, yelling, "Mine! Mine! I saw it first!"

"Soap?" The commander asks irritably.

"Don't overthink it," Gary replies casually.

"I hate this planet."

Gary laughs at him while the alien demands, "You give me pouch!"

"I'll give you half a bar," he counters.

The big Dulok chews on his lower lip before agreeing, "We caught offworlders. King Gorneesh wanted ransom, but they too strong. Now they fight."

"It couldn't be," Gary says. They share a look before he asks, "What do they look like?"

"A big human, a black-eyed offworlder, and a female with long head-tails."

The commander knows his position is precarious enough between the rebels and the Ewoks. He knows he should ignore it. Gary suggests, "We could steal the shuttle."

"I know," the commander stares at the arena.

"We can flee, take the shuttle to the witch, blow it up, or sneak attack the rebels with it."

"I know, but it won't hold enough people to leave Endor," the commander replies. "Who stays, and who's left behind? I won't abandon our soldiers. Its weak shields will not protect us from X-Wings. Even if we leave our people and escape, where will we go? Where's the Empire holding, versus those that have turned traitor or fallen to insurgents?"

"I don't want to leave, but I have a wife and daughter, and I want to see them again."

"I know, Gary, and I don't blame you. I know we should leave, go straight to the witch, and ignore this, but my gut says otherwise. You! Take us to your king." The Dulok's eyes widen, and he shakes his head fiercely. He peeks over his shoulder before shaking his head again. The commander threatens, "Take us to your king, or I'll cut off all trade, all soap, from the Duloks."

The villagers gasp, arguing with the guard until he grunts, "Come."

"It's hard to believe people can live like this," Gary motions, looking at the hut.

"I grew up like this. I've lived in caves and huts during my tours. My family's home was the same size as the huts. We herded banthas, and my father was the best hunter in our village."

"That sucks," he scowls at Gary, who shrugs. "What? It does, I grew up on Javis-12, and I couldn't wait to get away from that station. I spent my youth repairing mining equipment and ships. Every day we struggled for food and water. Until I left, I had no idea how corrupt the corporation was. When the imperial recruiters came through, hundreds of us signed up. I didn't like the Empire, but I hated Jarvis-12. Now, I have a nice home on Corellia."

"What about your parents?" The commander asks.

"They died a year after I left, a blowout. They're common on Jarvis-12. You?"

Before he can answer, another deafening roar halts them, accompanied by stomping feet. Here, they can feel the crowd's voice, followed by a sudden silence. Then—chanting, again and again, they call. The simple wooden structure shakes frighteningly. Dust falls as the chanting grows louder, straining the vines binding it together. The Dulok leads them to stairs, but Gary stops him, "I have a bad feeling about this. If we take the shuttle, we can fly anywhere."

"Until X-Wings shoot us down," he replies. "We're the insurgents here."

"Poo-doo," Gary groans. "You're right."

Gary continues, but a stair bends under the commander's weight. Deeply concerned, he grabs handholds the rest of the way. They emerge beside a platform reserved for the king and his wife, surrounded by benches full of spectators. King Gorneesh is easy to identify. He's brawny and holds a massive club. Plus, a coppery protocol droid sits next to him, the king's other arm wraps possessively around it. His wife scowls at them, whispering in the king's ear and pointing heatedly. The guard pleads with them before being dismissed.

The rest of the Duloks ignore the visitors, too engrossed in the battle. The commander indulges with a look, feeling his heartbeat speed up. His blood warms in excitement as he examines the field, no more than dirt, with three large spiked columns made of wood. By his guess, the battle has been going for a bit but already owns the crowd. Whether roaring with joy or holding their breath in suspense, the Duloks refuse to look away.

There, at the center of the arena, stands Hera Syndulla. She's battered but holding a spear. A burly human and a lean Sullustan stand with her, opposed by a large winged creature. Its lips recede, displaying a row of fangs before its long neck coils. Suddenly, it snaps with a serpent's quickness. It claws and pounces at them, but the three cooperate, holding it at bay. Surrounding the trio are defeated opponents. Several Duloks lay face down in the dirt alongside a few boar-wolves. Each of them is bloodied but alert and focused.

The beast snaps its teeth at Hera, who rolls away. Simultaneously, her comrades strike. The big human slams a club while the Sullustan thrusts rapidly with a spear. The creature trembles with the hits, retreating before them. Its eyes dart from one opponent to the next.

"How'd they catch a condor dragon?" Gary wonders. "Look, they bound its wings."

"It's beaten, and it knows it," The commander looks at the crude netting constraining its wings. "Look at its eyes. Desperation is making it sloppy, but at least it'll go down fighting."

"What you want?" King Gorneesh demands. "The witch has the magic spear. You go!"

"Why did you take the spear?" the commander asks. "Why does the witch have it?"

King Gorneesh looks away before complaining, "You go now! I'm watching fight!"

"We're willing to trade for the information," Gary adds, revealing the soap.

"Gary?" The king's wife perks up immediately. She looks at Gary and smiles shyly, stroking the fur behind one floppy ear. The king glares at her, then turns furiously at the stormtrooper, shoving the droid away. Urgah pats the bench next to herself. "Come sit, Gary."

The commander looks at him, "Is there anything else you'd like to disclose, trooper?"

"No-no-no, no sir. Nothing happened, nothing at all." Gary quickly changes the subject, flashing the soap again, "Why did the witch tell you to take the spear? Why does she want it?"

King Gorneesh frowns, folding his thick arms over his chest. Finally, he shrugs, "The witch said to take the spear; when offworlders fight. We give to Charal, but the offworlders came and demanded the spear. The witch wants off Endor. That's all I know!"

Gorneesh reaches for the soap pouch, but the commander stops Gary from handing it over. He offers only a single bar. The king grumbles under his breath but takes it.

"This feels like a trap," the commander tells Gary. "Why else would she want us to come to her? With things bad as they are, we'd take whatever help came our way."

"I've been on Endor a while and never heard of a witch." Gary thinks about it, "But someone knew and marked that area restricted for a reason. Imperial protocol directs us to detain and transfer witches to authorities, and we would have."

"Don't trust him, commander!" Hera shouts. Although he faced the field, his mind was distant, and the commander didn't know she's spotted him. "Gorneesh is a liar-watch out!"

With Hera holding his gaze, King Gorneesh kicks him from behind. Caught by surprise, he's flung over the side and falls into the arena. A second later, Gary lands on top of him.

"Not Gary!" Urgah cries out. "No!"

King Gorneesh laughs heartily, the crowd joining him, celebrating their misfortune. Gorneesh yells, "Now, I'll have the soap and my revenge on you, Gary!"

"Nothing happened!" Gary screams. The commander shoves the stormtrooper off before climbing to his feet. His back feels off, weak but tight and inflexible when he turns.

King Gorneesh isn't the only one exploiting their distraction. Although the rebels had the condor dragon weakened, the king's treachery distracts from it. The beast slams into the Sullustan, hurling him against a wall and knocking him out. Before it can finish him, the Human and Hera yell to taunt it. Suddenly, it bites the human, latching onto his leg. The condor dragon whips him about wildly. Stubbornly, the rebel whacks the condor dragon with his club. Hurt, it releases, launching him into the stands. He remains still as the nearby Duloks ridicule him.

"They need help!" Gary declares before firing his blaster into a wall. The condor dragon jerks back before turning its gaze on them. "I missed on purpose!"

Provoked, the condor dragon lunges straight over Hera, landing near the imperials. The commander raises his rifle, but the beast rams him, knocking him to the ground and hurling it out of his hands. Pain blurs the commander's vision, his heart pounding in his ears, while the beast dodges side to side to avoid Gary's shots.

The commander rolls back to his feet, causing his back to tense again. Meanwhile, Gary barely evades the condor dragon's fangs, not quite screaming in retreat. The commander reaches for his pistol, but the ax is already in hand. Clenching his teeth, he sprints towards it and slashes its hip. It flinches, protecting that side but allowing him to hack its tail, nearly severing it.

"Cut the ropes!" Gary proposes. "Then it can fly away!"

The words barely pierce his fury; the pain and his betrayal intensify his outrage. The condor dragon drags the wounded leg, tail drooping at an odd angle. It tries to guard its injured side, circling away, while the commander advances. He sidesteps the first weak slash, surging forward before he rolls beneath it. Along its belly, several of the ropes converge in a thick knot. He grabs it and holds on while the condor dragon thrashes about, sawing at the hemp rope.

One line snaps, loosening the netting. The condor dragon flails about, suddenly ignoring him. Its wings flap, loosening the bindings until it latches onto a rope and tears itself free. It shifts position as the commander stands up, glaring into his eyes. It shrinks away from him before turning its attention on its Dulok captors. With a single leap, it jumps into the stands. The condor dragon snatches up a screaming Dulok and flies away, disappearing into the forest.

With a trembling breath, the commander surveys the arena. Gary nods, assuring him he's okay. Hera is examining the Sullustan. He picks up his rifle and points at Gorneesh. "Let us out."

"Boo!" A Dulok cries before others join it. The crowd grows angry, hurling trash at them. Garbage rains down on all three, forcing Hera to shield the Sullustan with her body. "Booooo!"

Already incensed, the commander holsters his ax and levels his rifle, ready to unleash a burst into the stands. Then King Gorneesh surprises him, swinging his club against a large square gong. The dull but thundering sound silences the arena and carries to the village beyond. The commander crouches defensively, expecting an attack or reinforcements to appear.

Instead, the Duloks chant, "Trop! Trop! Trop!"

The word spreads swiftly through the crowd until every last one yells it. The Duloks beat their chests in unison. Each one stands, male and female alike, with reverence.

"What's happening?" Hera demands.

The massive doors crack open, and the Duloks howl with delight. The second door swings open too, and the commander knows whatever is coming must be enormous, for each door is huge. A black-furred leg as thick as a tree steps into the area. Vaguely humanoid, the creature is gigantic. It peeks over the village walls with two beady eyes, examining them, as its lupine ears flutter.

Gary screams, "It's a Gorax!"

"TROP!" The crowd thunders as the beast raises its mighty fists into the air.