The Millennium Falcon slowly descended onto the alien planet below. The YT-1300 landed gracefully as the tentacles of the alien trees swayed side to side. "Well, here we are," Han announced to no one in particular. "Bimmissaari. Fur and moving plants a specialty."
"None of that," Leia scolded him, unstrapping from the seat behind him. She grabbed the small headset that sat ever so peacefully in the co-pilot chair. "General Syndulla," she said into the headset. A cackle sound quickly burst to life on the other end.
"This is Syndulla, is everything alright down there?" the voice of the twi'lek general replied ever so smoothly.
"We've landed with no difficulty. Just keep an open comm line, will you?" Leia said.
"Will do, Councilor."
Leia removed the headset and looked over at Han. "Something wrong?" she asked as Han rushed over to the nose window to see a group of small aliens approaching the ship.
"Looks like our reception committee is arriving a tad early," Han said with a bit of annoyance in his voice. "Better tell Luke to get Goldenrod ready. You sure you don't want to come with us, Chewie?" Han called out to his friend.
Leia strained her ears as Chewbacca growled out a curt reply. Even after all these years she still had difficulty understanding him. But if some words were less than distinct, the overall meaning came through crystal clear. "Oh come on," Han urged. "You've been fawned over before—remember Yavin? I didn't hear you complaining then."
"It's all right, Han," Leia put in over Chewbacca's response. "If he wants to stay with Artoo and work on the stabilizers, that's fine. The Bimms won't be offended."
Han looked out of the nose window at the approaching aliens. "I wasn't worried about offending them," he muttered. "Just thought it would be nice to have some extra backup."
Leia wrapped her arms around Han's neck. "Everything will be alright. The Bimms are friendly people," she assured him. "There won't be any trouble."
"I've heard that before," Han said dryly, pulling a comlink from a small storage compartment and fastening it to his collar. "A subtle way to talk to Chewie and General Syndulla without being so obvious," he explained to Leia.
"Ah," Leia nodded as she unwrapped her arms from Han's neck. "Seems you've been spending too much time with Commander Rex and his commandos."
"I've been spending too much time sitting in on Council meetings," he countered, sliding out of his seat and standing up. "After four years of watching political infighting, you learn the occasional value of subtlety. Come on Chewie—we'll need you to lock up behind us."
Luke and Threepio were waiting near the hatchway. "Ready?" Luke asked them.
"Ready," Leia replied, taking a deep breath. With a hiss of the airseal the hatchway opened, and together they walked down the ramp to where the yellow-clad, half-furred creatures awaited.
The Dawnbreaker drifted ever so slowly above Bimmissaari. Hera Syndulla stared at the endless field of stars that were nothing more than a twinkle. She had often wondered if her family traveled among them. Or at least, what was left of them. She could feel tears begin to form as she remembered what once was; Kanan: her first and only love, who gave his life to save them, Zeb: a loyal and true friend, who left to start anew, Sabine: a daughter in her eyes, who had lost all hope. And Ezra: her son, who died protecting the people and planet he cared for so dearly.
She couldn't help but feel a bit of envy for Leia. How her family survived the hardship of war. How they stayed together, even in the darkest time. They weren't perfect by any means, but they were certainly better than what she had now.
"General Syndulla," a voice called down the port side crew pit through the hum of conversation. "We're receiving a message from an old Alliance channel," the lieutenant said, reading out loud the schematics. There was a pause. The lieutenant looked over at Hera in surprise. "It reads as Fulcrum." Hera's eyes darted towards the transmitter. "Patch it through," she said quickly. A small holographic figure displayed before her eyes. "Fulcrum," she greeted, surprise in her voice. "It's been years since your last contact."
"It has," Fulcrum said, hiding beneath their hood. "However, I'm afraid I bring dire news. To put it simply, the New Republic is at stake. Something is coming, something dark—I sensed it. I believe whatever this threat is, could very well undermine everything we've worked hard to achieve."
"Undermine, how so?" Hera asked, a chill running down her spine.
"I've been hearing whispers of a new warlord returning from the unknown regions and uniting the remnants into his own empire." There was a pause as Fulcrum cautiously selected their words. "Hera, I believe Grand Admiral Thrawn is alive and has returned as the heir to the Empire. . ."
The arrival ceremony was short and, for the most part, unintelligible, though Threepio did his best to keep up a running translation of the ceremony. The welcome ended and two of the Bimms stepped forward, one still singing a melody as the other handed Leia a small electronic device. "He offers greetings to Distinguished Visitor Counselor Leia Organa Solo," Threepio translated, "and hopes your discussions with the Law Elders will be fruitful. He also request that Captain Solo returns his weapon to the ship."
The droid said it so matter of factly, that it took Leia a second to comprehend what he was saying. "What was the last part?" Leia asked.
"Captain Solo must leave his weapon aboard the ship," Threepio repeated. "Weapons of violence are not permitted within the city. I'm afraid there are no exceptions."
"Terrific," Han mumbled into her ear. "You didn't tell me this was coming."
"I didn't know this was coming," Leia countered quietly, giving the Bimms a reassuring smile. "Doesn't look like we got a choice."
"Diplomacy," Han cursed. Unfastening his gun belt and carefully settling it back onto the hatchway ramp. "Happy?"
"Aren't I always?" Leia nodded to Threepio. "Tell them we're ready."
The droid translated. And the two Bimms stepped aside and gestured towards the city.
They were twenty meters away from the Falcon, with the sound of Chewbacca closing the hatchway ramp behind them, when something abruptly occured to Leia. "Luke?" she murmured to him.
"I know," Luke replied in the same gesture, understanding quickly what she was trying to say. "Maybe they thought it's part of the Jedi outfit. Either way, what they don't know won't hurt them."
"I hope so," Leia said, forcing down her reflexive diplomatic misgivings. After all, if the Bimms themselves hadn't objected to it . . .
"Oh my, would you just look at that crowd." Threepio said, interrupting Leia's thoughts. There were hundreds of Bimms all dressed in the same yellow outfit, waiting where the path exited the trees. The official reception committee shifted into a single file and started down the gauntlet without giving the crowd a second glance; bracing herself, Leia followed.
It was strange, but not nearly as uncomfortable as she expected. Each Bimm reached out a hand as she passed. Their hands touched her every so slightly with a feathery lightness on her shoulder, arm or back. They bowed and cheered once Luke had followed her, doing the same gestures on him as they did to Leia. However they paid little to no mind to Han.
Still, Leia knew Han never liked the attention. And she was just as glad that Chewbacca never joined them. He hated—rather violently—being pawed by strangers.
They passed through the crowd, and the Bimm nearest Leia sang something to her. "He says that the Tower of Law is just ahead," Threepio translated.
"What's that building next to it?" Luke asked one of the Bimms. "Seems like a curious design."
The building in question was a three-level dome with the sides and roof cut off. Threepio translated Luke's question and the Bimms eagerly replied. "According to the Bimms, it's their main marketplace," Threepio told him. "They prefer the open air whenever possible. Though if you ask me, I'd say it's a terrible idea, especially in this environment."
"I've seen that design in a few other places," Han added. "The roof probably stretches to cover more of the dome's framework when the weather gets bad."
One of the Bimms sang something to Han, patting him on the shoulder. "He says perhaps you can be given a tour of the facility before you leave," Threepio translated again.
"Great," Han said with a forced smile. "Wonderful place to pick up a souvenir."
"Quiet," Leia warned through gritted teeth. "Or you can go back and wait with Chewie on the Falcon."
The Bimmisaari Tower of Law was fairly modest. It wasn't spectacular as most council buildings they had seen in the past, but it served its purpose. Inside, they were led to a large oval office where a group of Bimms sat patiently waiting for them. Three of them stood up and sang as Leia entered.
"They greet you, Princess Leia," Threepio began to translate, "However, they apologize for the fact that the talks will not be able to begin quite yet. It appears that the chief negotiator has fallen ill just moments ago."
"Oh," Leia said, taken aback. "Please express our sympathies, and ask if there's anything we can do to help."
"They thank you," Threepio said after another exchange of songs. "But they assure you that will not be necessary. There is no danger to him, merely an inconvenience." The droid hesitated. "I really don't think you should inquire further, Your Highness," he added. "The complaint appears to be a rather personal matter."
"I understand," Leia said gravely, suppressing a smile at the prim tone of the droid's voice. "Well, in that case, I suppose we will return to the Falcon and until he feels ready to continue."
Threepio turned to the Bimm, translating what Leia had said. One of their escorts rushed over to Threepio singing a suggestion. "Oh this is wondrous, Your Highness," Threepio said, turning back around to face her. "That young Bimm just offered an alternative: he would be delighted to conduct you to a tour of the marketplace while you wait."
Leia glanced at Han and Luke. "Any objection?"
The Bimm sang something else, causing Threepio to stutter a bit. "Oh—I see."
"What is it, Threepio?" Leia asked the droid.
"He suggests that both Captain Solo and Master Luke might find something to interest them in the Tower's upper chamber. Apparently there are relics that date to the Old Republic."
A quiet alarm went off in Leia's mind. Were they trying to split them up? "Luke and Han might like the market, too," she said cautiously.
The Bimm threw a hand in disapproval. "He says that they would find it excessively dull," Threepio translated. "Frankly, if it's anything like the marketplaces I've been too—"
"I like marketplaces," Han said, cutting him off, his voice dark with suspicion. "I like them a lot."
Leia looked over to Luke. "What do you think?"
Luke's eyes swept the Bimms; measuring them with his Jedi insight. "I don't sense any real duplicity in them. Nothing beyond that of normal politics."
"I'd say we stick together," Han told him sternly. "You know, just in case."
Luke grimaced. He was interested to see the relics dating to the Old Republic era, but Han did make a good point. "I'd have to agree with Han," he told Leia. "If anything, it would be a sense of security for your unborn twins."
Leia sighed deeply. "Alright then, Threepio," she directed the droid. "Please inform our friend here that while we are overjoyed by his offer, we would rather all go to the marketplace to wait until the Chief negotiator recovers." The droid sang to the Bimm every word she had said. The Bimms now seemed nervous as their attempt to separate them had failed. Leia, however, didn't over-empathize on the matter. It was just normal politics, nothing more.
The marketplace was filled with various vendors. Han couldn't even walk properly as he had to squeeze himself between vendors and customers alike. He'd seen a lot of marketplaces on a lot of different planets, but seldom one so crowded. Crowded with more than just locals, too. In the vast sea of yellow-clad Bimms—don't they wear any other color?—he could see several other humans and humanoid aliens enjoying the day.
"As you can see," Threepio translated as their guide explained the tour. "The marketplace has stood in the exact same spot for well over two hundred years. In fact, after the Clone Wars broke out, Bimmisaari became a sanctuary for the numerous victims of the war."
"You see," Leia told Han. "This is why this place is worth getting into the New Republic."
"I guess so," Han conceded, stepping to one of the booths and looking at the displayed items. The owner sang something towards him, gesturing at a small set of carving knives. "No thanks," Han waved him off. He glanced around his surroundings, observing both the people and the vendors carefully.
In the reflection on one of the knives, he saw three short aliens looking directly at him. Han quickly turned around to face his would-be attackers, only to find no one there. "Hey kid," he said, grasping Luke's arm. "See anything strange?"
Luke looked at Han, bewildered. He looked around him, taking in every scene happening in his surroundings. "I don't see anything out of the ordinary, Han. Why?" he asked.
"Thought I saw something," Han told him truthfully. "I don't know what it was, but I don't like it."
"Maybe we can ask to stop the tour early," Luke said, turning to Threepio. "Threepio, ask the guide if we can return to the Tower of Law."
There was no response. "Threepio?" he repeated looking around.
Threepio was staring off into the crowd. "Hey Goldenrod," Han snapped. "The kid was talking to you."
Threepio spun back. "I'm terribly sorry, Master Luke and Captain Solo," he apologizes. "But it seems our host has disappeared."
"What do you mean, disappeared?" Leia asked bewildered. They looked at the crowd in front of them. The Bimms were indistinguishable from one another while wearing their yellow-clad outfits.
"How could he just disappear?" Han asked as he rushed to Leia's side. Beside him, Leia gripped his hand. "I have a bad feeling about this," she warned him.
"We got trouble," Luke warned as he reached for his lightsaber. Han and Leia quickly turned in Luke's direction.
A few meters away, islands in the churning sea of yellow, three aliens appeared out of nowhere, facing them. Short aliens, not much taller than the Bimms, with steel-gray skin, large dark eyes, and protruding jaws.
And, held in their hands, stokhli sticks.
"There behind us, as well," Leia murmured as she glanced at a nearby reflection. There were at least eight more, arrayed in a rough circle ten meters across. A circle with them at the center of it.
"Who are they?" Luke asked as he hesitated to ignite his saber. He didn't want to cause a mass panic, let alone injure any of the innocent civilians who are caught in the crossfire.
"Beats me," Han said as he and Leia got behind Luke. "But they're not kidding around. Those things are called stokhli sticks—shoot a spraynet mist two hundred meters, with a good shockstun juice to take down a good sized Gundark." Abruptly, Han glanced over his shoulder. They had moved unknowingly away from the nearest part of the would-be attackers' circle. "They're herding us towards the down ramp, must be trying to take us without stirring up the crowd."
"What are we going to do?" Leia asked as gripped Han's hand tighter.
Han reached over to his comlink. "I think it's time to pull in the welcome mat," he said as he quickly activated the comlink. "Chewie, we need an immediate pick up, now!"
There was no response. Only static. He tried again, "Chewie, come in!" Still no response. His face turned pale as he attempted another call. "General Syndulla, do read me?" The same ear piercing static answered his call. He turned to Luke and Leia, fear forming in his eyes. "They've blocked all communications."
"Oh dear," Threepio hollered, "We're doomed!"