Chapter 23: Kashyyyk Part 2

The walk to the Wookiee village was a mix of awe and tension. The huts, constructed from various types of wood, displayed impressive craftsmanship. Wookiees of different fur colors populated the village, their gazes fixed on Zaalbar with a blend of amazement and, in some cases, hostility.

Dawn leaned in close to her adopted daughter, Mission, and whispered softly, "Whatever you do, do not leave Zaalbar's side."

Mission met Dawn's gaze and nodded solemnly. "Okay, Mama Dawn."

They were disarmed upon arrival and led to a grand house built from wroshyr wood. The modern glow-rods illuminated the interior, adorned with woven rugs and colorful murals depicting Wookiee legends. Five armed humans stood guard around Chuundar's throne, flanked by two Wookiees by the door. The sight of the armed humans filled Zaalbar with unease, as it was his worst nightmare coming true.

Zaalbar had been positioned beside the throne, with Mission steadfastly at his side, gripping his large paw with her tiny hands. The rest of the group stood before the throne, blaster rifles pointed at their backs, granting them a view of the Wookiee Chieftain before them.

Chuundar, the Wookiee Chieftain, was an imposing figure with well-groomed black fur and ornate adornments, including his father's prized amber necklace. He rose from his carved wooden throne as the group entered, flashing a predatory smile before addressing them.

"Step forward and address the mighty and wise Chuundar," he declared, his voice carrying an air of authority. "Did you think you could walk the upper boughs of Kashyyyk and not be observed? I've had my climbers and scouts watching you and your ship."

The Czerka captain seized the opportunity to speak, advancing a few steps. "Your presence here threatens to upset a lawful business arrangement, as well as transporting a dangerous animal, an attack droid, and who-knows-what on that smuggling boat of yours. We hold authority here. Most of the time, we put your kind to death… but we'll indulge Chuundar on this." His wicked smile revealed his malevolent intentions. "I actually like his idea… fits you Wookiee-lovers just right."

Bastila, her Jedi composure unwavering, interjected with a pointed statement. "And, as you have no doubt discovered when taking our weapons, you are holding six members of the Jedi Order. The corporation would not want to be implicated in our deaths, but allowing the Wookiees to be our executioners serves your purposes admirably."

The Czerka captain dismissed Bastila's words with a cruel retort. "Shut up, lady. Give it a couple years, and the Sith will have exterminated the rest of you."

Chuundar, maintaining a veneer of rationality, addressed the situation. "I don't often allow visitors of your kind, but you travel with a mad-claw," he gestured broadly around the room. "I was only seeing to the safety of my people."

Zaalbar, his frustration and anger boiling over, couldn't contain himself any longer. He waved his massive paw towards the Czerka guards who still held their blaster rifles pointed at the party's heads and shouted, "And yet you flank yourself with Czerka slavers! Are they not outsiders, or have you sold all of Kashyyyk to them!"

Chuundar's smile remained unnervingly serene as he responded, "Ah, Zaalbar. You've been exiled many years. You should not speak in that tone. Things are different now. You are a mad-claw without honor. You have no voice among our people. I, on the other hand, am Chieftain."

Sarryn, his gaze unwavering, added his voice to the conversation. "For someone who thinks only of his people's safety, you have certainly done a good job of surrounding yourself with the enemy."

Chuundar's confidence appeared unshaken. "You can talk all you like, but no one will believe you," he retorted. "I've had a long time to guide what my people think. They trust me, Mighty Chuundar. Even with my brother insane and my father enslaved, I rose to protect my people, despite it all..."

Zaalbar's surprise was evident as he interrupted, "Father enslaved? 'Mighty' Chuundar? What are you talking about? You were the runt!"

Chuundar's composure slipped as he roared, "I am no runt!" He cleared his throat and made an effort to regain control. "Like I said, Zaalbar, a lot has changed since you left."

Dawn's patience wore thin as she demanded answers from Chuundar. "What do you want?" she pressed; her voice laced with frustration. "I know there's a reason we're here, so are you going to tell us, or are you planning to show how long it takes for your breath to poison us all?"

Chuundar, seemingly unfazed by her hostility, responded with a hint of condescension. "I've not killed Zaalbar because I take pity on my poor and insane brother. I hope that eventually he and I can come to an agreement. However, I have heard you. You seek something in the Shadowlands, as do I."

Bastila, cautious and guarded, inquired further, "What do you know of it?"

"I know of its location—the ruins in the lowest part of the Shadowlands," Chuundar revealed. "There is an insane Wookiee that has taken to living in the same old ruins. Like Zaalbar, he too became a madclaw and now roams the Shadowlands, lost in his guilt and rage. He is interfering with my Czerka allies, and that is not good for business. I want you to kill him."

Willow's contempt for Chuundar grew with each passing moment. She couldn't contain her anger any longer. "You sell out your own people, turn on your own blood, and you're not even sorry about it! 'Mighty' Chuundar appears to be nothing more than a fur-covered Hutt!"

"I know little about the Hutts, but they would understand what your exiled companion does not," Chuundar said, his tone dripping with condescension. "Young Zaalbar has no foresight. Imagine the destruction if Czerka came in with blasters firing. I saved many lives... Of course, I also gained weapons and arranged for my rivals to be harvested." He paused, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"I'm with Auntie Willow on the 'fur-covered Hutt' opinion," Mission said, her voice filled with defiance as she crossed her arms, glaring at Chuundar.

"And what makes you think we'll do as you ask?" Willow said evenly, her eyes narrowing with determination and her voice steady, despite the rising tension.

Chuundar's face became harder and more dangerous, his eyes cold and calculating. "You take my offer, or I will allow my Czerka allies to take you outside the village and kill you all. If you choose to live, Zaalbar will stay here to ensure your loyalty. You can't defeat me here. No one would dare oppose me to join with an outsider or an exile."

"I… I will do as you ask," Zaalbar said, his voice heavy with resignation and sorrow. "My life belongs to the human woman, and I give it for her."

"Big Z, no!" Mission's voice trembled with panic as she looked desperately to her friends. "He… he can't do that! Just because he's Chieftain, he can't hold Zaalbar prisoner, can he?"

Dawn leaned in, her voice a mix of frustration and resignation. "I don't like this either, Mission. But he's holding the cards right now. We have to play it his way."

"Okay… okay, Mama Dawn," Mission took a deep breath, her resolve hardening even as her heart ached. "Then I'm staying here with Zaalbar." She moved closer to her friend, her small frame standing tall with unwavering loyalty and determination.

"Mission, no," Zaalbar said, his voice pleading, filled with concern for his loyal friend.

The Twi'lek defiantly crossed her arms and shook her head, her resolve unwavering. "No talking me out of this, Big Z. Someone's gotta stay and make sure you're treated all right."

"Enough talk!" Chuundar's voice thundered through the room, his anger palpable. "I've given my orders! Goorwooken will take you to the Shadowlands by elevator. You wait at the home of the Holder of the Laws until he can come for you."

Dawn leaned in toward Zaalbar and Mission, her voice a whisper filled with determination. "Don't worry. We'll get you out of this. I promise."

"I agree," Mirin chimed in, her voice steady and supportive as she stood by her mate.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The group moved out of the chieftain's house, the weight of Chuundar's ultimatum hanging heavy in the air. Bastila took charge, pulling out a small communicator and flicking it on with a practiced motion. She spoke into it with urgency, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Carth, can you hear me?"

There was a brief pause, then Carth's voice crackled through the communicator. "Bastila? Are you okay?"

"At the moment. Is something wrong?" Bastila's voice held a note of concern, her brow furrowing as she awaited Carth's response.

"Yeah," Carth replied grimly. "Seems Czerka has sent armed guards around the Hawk. We're not going to be able to take off until they give the okay."

Willow shook her head incredulously. "Got to hand it to them, they work fast."

Bastila nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "Meet us by the entrance to the Wookiee village. We'll explain the situation then."

"Okay, me and Canderous will head out. We'll let HK stay with the ship and make sure no one gets on board," Carth confirmed decisively.

"Good, we'll meet you soon. Bastila out." With a finality in her voice, Bastila turned the communicator off and sighed heavily. "It appears our mission has become more complicated," she murmured, her eyes scanning the group, silently assessing their readiness for the challenges ahead.

"This is not right," Juhani said, her voice low and resonant, her fur bristling in agitation along with her aura. "That a being could lead his people into slavery… I think of how I and my family were treated, like animals."

"Where are you from, anyway?" Dawn asked gently, realizing how little they knew of Juhani's background.

"A pit of a world in a distant part of the galaxy," Juhani replied, her eyes gazing distantly as memories surfaced. "My parents fled there when our world was overrun by the Mandalorians. It was a poor choice, though. The people there were intolerant of aliens, and the only work to be had was hard and back-breaking."

"I'm sorry," Dawn murmured softly, her empathy palpable.

"It was not your fault," Juhani reassured her, her voice steady and firm. "It… is not something I wish to think of often." With a slight turn of her head, she signaled the end of the conversation, her body language closing off further discussion.

Dawn felt the urge to press Juhani for more, to offer comfort or understanding, but Mirin's hand on her shoulder gave her pause. Dawn glanced at her Cathar wife and saw the wisdom in Mirin's restraint. There were wounds too deep to be healed with words alone, wounds that needed time and trust to mend. She closed her mouth, swallowing the words she had been about to speak, and instead reached out to gently squeeze Juhani's shoulder in silent solidarity.

As they waited for Carth and Canderous, the group was escorted to the Holder of the Laws' residence. It was smaller than Chuundar's ostentatious "palace," yet radiated a sense of ancient dignity and craftsmanship. The structure, weathered by time and intricately carved with symbols of Wookiee tradition, stood as a testament to enduring heritage.

Outside the home, they encountered two other Wookiees. One was visibly young—a child named Woorwill. The other, older and imposing, was engaged in a stern conversation with him.

"Woorwill, you make me worry! Even I cannot protect you, and it shames me to admit it," the elder Wookiee admonished, his voice gruff with concern.

Woorwill, however, seemed captivated by the newcomers, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Look, father! They are so strange - short and hairless."

"Woorwill, damn it! These are not to be trusted! They... all of their accursed kind... they have no honor, and seek only to use us as animals and slaves," the elder Wookiee retorted bitterly, his distrust palpable.

"We're not slavers," Sarryn interjected firmly, her voice cutting through the tension.

Fascinated, Woorwill continued to study them. "I've... I've never spoken to outsiders, or even been so close to one. I mean, Chuundar teaches us to understand you, but..." His youthful face contorted into a scowl. "I suppose you're here to laugh at us and gloat over how many of us you've taken. Can you even understand me?"

"We understand you just fine," Willow replied calmly, her tone softening. "We're just here to find out more about the planet. Chuundar is holding our friend in the Chieftain's hall until we're able to finish a task for him."

The elder Wookiee, Jaarak, leaned in closer, his expression a mixture of astonishment and suspicion. "Friends of a mad-claw? He is not your slave?"

"No," Bastila affirmed firmly. "We are Jedi – we don't own slaves."

Jaarak snorted derisively. "Humph! I am Jaarak, and I have seen too much in my years. There is no such thing as honor in your kind. Stop bothering my boy! He doesn't need you taunting him!"

"But what if they know something, father?" Woorwill interjected eagerly, his youthful voice filled with curiosity. "They're friends of the mad-claw, and who knows what he has told them? Maybe they can help..."

"Help? Have you gone mad yourself, boy?" Jaarak's tone turned harsh, his brows furrowing deeply. "These are outsiders. Look around you. They do nothing but lie, and steal, and taint the best among us." He glowered at the group; his distrust palpable. "Talk to me if you must, but you leave my son alone!"

"Easy, easy," Dawn interjected calmly, sensing the tension mounting. "We're just trying to learn more about you all."

Jaarak waved a dismissive arm. "I've nothing to say to you. Go and learn what you can while bleeding this world of its people and honor."

"Should we ask if they've seen Rorworr, father? They understand us. Most outsiders don't bother to learn our language," Woorwill persisted, undeterred by his father's disapproval. His eyes flickered with hope, eager for any shred of information.

"I will not speak to them, and neither will you, Woorwill! I'll not allow it," Jaarak's voice thundered with finality, his fur bristling in anger and distrust.

"Who's this Rorworr?" Sarryn asked, her curiosity piqued despite the elder Wookiee's clear disapproval.

Woorwill's eyes lit up with admiration as he spoke eagerly, ignoring his father's stern warning. "Oh, he was the greatest! He's led hunting parties through the Shadowlands, and even fought against outsiders! Slavers... like... like you probably are. He's taught me a lot. He said I could grow up to be as strong as him, and that I'd fight you, too. I will, too. I will!"

"I take it he's missing?" Dawn asked gently, her voice tinged with sympathy for the young Wookiee.

Woorwill nodded solemnly. "Yes, for ten days now. He went down in the Shadowlands and hasn't been seen since." His expression darkened with worry. "I hope he's okay. Those slavers are tough, but I know Rorworr would go down fighting! He can't die, he's too strong to just—"

Jaarak abruptly yanked on his son's arm, cutting off Woorwill's words with a growl of frustration. "You are outsiders, and your kind have done more damage here than any one of you could ever hope to fix! You taint us and bring out the worst in everything. You will get no respect from me. Come, Woorwill, we're heading home while we still have one."

With a firm grip, Jaarak dragged his son away, leaving the group exchanging uncomfortable glances in their wake.

"For some reason, I figured this place would be a little friendlier," Willow remarked dryly, her disappointment evident.

Dawn sniffed; her frustration clear in her tone. "Guess it doesn't matter what species it is, there's always some... difficult individuals in the bunch."

"Dawn," Bastila interjected, her voice gentle yet admonishing.

"Bastila, it may have been a poor choice of words but you can't say you don't agree," Dawn retorted, her expression unapologetic as she met Bastila's gaze squarely.

Bastila sighed softly, understanding Dawn's sentiment but wary of the tense atmosphere. "We must remember that perspectives here are shaped by long-standing histories and conflicts," she said diplomatically, trying to diffuse the tension.

Willow crossed her arms, her frustration evident. "Yeah, well, I don't like being lumped in with slavers."

Mirin placed a comforting hand on Willow's shoulder, her voice calm yet firm. "We're here to help, regardless of how we're perceived. Our actions will speak louder than words."

Dawn nodded, her features softening with gratitude towards Mirin. "You're right," she admitted, her tone apologetic. "I just hate feeling judged for things we haven't done."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Canderous and Carth arrived twenty minutes earlier, their expressions grim as they surveyed the tense situation. They knew their options were limited, and compliance seemed the safest course for now. The group was soon escorted to a walkway leading to a substantial wooden elevator. Standing there was Gorwooken, a formidable Wookiee whose glare spoke volumes of caution and wariness.

"I am Gorwooken," he introduced himself gruffly. "Chuundar has told me to lead you down to the Shadowlands. I will warn you there are creatures there even the strongest of us are wary of facing. Many have gone into the Shadowlands and few have returned."

"Any other… outsiders go down there?" Dawn inquired, her voice tinged with curiosity and a touch of apprehension.

"Only those Chuundar has allowed," Gorwooken replied sternly. "And the Hairless One. He has lived there for many years. He respects us as we do him although he is… strange."

The group boarded the elevator, and Gorwooken began to operate the controls, lowering them down into the depths of the Shadowlands. The descent was slow, the ambient light gradually fading until darkness enveloped them like a shroud. By the time they reached the forest floor, it felt as though they had descended into the dead of night, with only faint shadows of towering trees visible around them.

Exiting the elevator, Carth and Canderous took point, the Mandalorian activating a light attached to his rifle to pierce the gloom. The others followed cautiously into the dense, eerie forest.

Bastila's expression was troubled as she surveyed their surroundings. "This place is so alive… it is difficult to focus through the Force."

"Oh, good, not just me," Dawn remarked wryly, her hand instinctively resting on her lightsaber. Willow and Mirin flanked her, their own lightsabers at the ready. She started at a sudden rustling sound behind her and spun around, her heart racing. A spider-like creature crawled up a nearby tree, its legs skittering across the bark. "Now I'm really reminded of back home," she quipped, sharing a glance with Willow, who nodded in agreement.

Carth shook his head grimly, his distrust deepening. "This isn't good. I'm betting that Chuundar sent us down here just to get rid of us."

"Way ahead of you on that one," Dawn replied dryly, her tone tinged with resignation. "But then, a trap's only a trap if you're not expecting it. As long as we know what's going on, we won't fall—" Her words cut off abruptly as she stumbled over something unseen and fell back. Mirin swiftly caught her, her brows furrowing in confusion as she scanned the spot where Dawn had tripped, finding nothing.

Then, with a crackling of energy, the air before them shimmered and revealed a Mandalorian in full armor. Two more materialized beside him, all aiming rifles at the group with deadly intent.

In moments, the crew found themselves surrounded as nearly a dozen Mandalorians appeared out of thin air. They encircled the group, their weapons poised and ready to fire at the slightest provocation. The Jedi and their allies instinctively moved closer together, backs against each other, assessing their options in the face of overwhelming odds.

Willow glanced sideways at Dawn amidst the tense standoff. "You're beginning to sound like Buffy with those ironic comments."

"Well, I am part Slayer," Dawn retorted with a hint of a smirk, though her eyes remained focused on the Mandalorians.

Canderous sneered at the Mandalorians, his disdain evident. "Stealth suits, eh? You probably spend your time hunting the Wookiees who come down here, selling some and killing the rest." He shook his head disapprovingly. "Am I the only one with a sense of honor anymore?"

The Mandalorians remained silent and unmoving, their visors reflecting the dim light of the Shadowlands as they maintained their vigilant stance.

"Actually," a dry voice echoed in the darkness, cutting through the tense standoff. "They're with me."

The group turned to see a squat man clad in a distinctive blue coat, his face obscured by goggles and a white cowl, stepping confidently forward with a smug smile.

"Oh, you've gotta be shitting me!" Dawn exclaimed, her frustration and disbelief evident in her voice.

The man's smile widened into a smirk. "You've led me on a nice little chase. But no one gets away from Calo Nord in the end."

"How in all the HELLS did you get off Taris alive, Nord!" Canderous demanded, his voice a mix of grudging respect and incredulity.

The bounty hunter just smirked, his expression smug and self-assured. "Three words, Canderous. I'm. A. Professional."

"Got three words for you, too," Dawn snapped, her frustration palpable. "But Bastila would be pissed if I said them out loud."

Mirin cast a wry glance at her wife, a subtle smile playing on her lips. "I would likely be pissed if you said them out loud," she remarked dryly.

Carth eyed the Mandalorians surrounding them warily, his voice edged with caution. "I'm surprised, Nord. From what I've heard, you work alone."

"I do," the bounty hunter affirmed, his gaze flicking between the assembled group with calculated scrutiny. "But in this case, I felt some backup was needed. It just so happens that these Mandalorian mercenaries were already here, working for Czerka. All it took was a cut from the bounty I'll be getting on you and they were willing to help out."

Sarryn licked his lips nervously, his mind racing through their limited options. "Don't suppose there's any point in trying to offer you more, is there?"

Nord shook his head, his tone final and uncompromising. "Sorry, kid. This is about my rep more than the cash. I'm going to need to protect it, after all. Now, as I'm sure you're aware, you're surrounded and the slightest move against us is going to end up with all of you blasted."

"Isn't that what you're going to do anyway?" Willow asked, her voice challenging and defiant.

"Not if your friend goes with me," Nord replied, nodding towards Bastila. "Lord Malak is paying me double if she's in good shape."

Bastila's face hardened, her expression resolute. "I would rather die."

Nord sighed, exasperation coloring his tone. "They always have to do it the hard way…" He shook his head and pulled out his blasters, the metallic gleam catching the dim light. "Come with me, and I'll be satisfied just leaving your friends here with no weapons. Make this difficult and…" He let his voice trail off, the threat hanging ominously in the air.

Dawn shook her head, determination blazing in her eyes. "You want her…you'll have to get us all, Nord."

The bounty hunter shrugged; his expression indifferent. "If that's the way it has to be…" He made a motion, and the Mandalorians aimed their rifles with precision, ready to fire.

Without warning, Dawn vanished in a flash of green light, her sudden disappearance leaving Nord and the Mandalorians astonished. She reappeared only for a few seconds each time, her movements a blur, but it was long enough to yank the rifles from the Mandalorians' hands, leaving them disarmed and bewildered.

The Mandalorians stared at their empty hands, momentarily stunned, and that was the opening Juhani and Mirin needed. With swift, fluid motions, their lightsabers ignited and swung out, cutting down the nearest foes with lethal precision. In seconds, the group was on the attack.

Willow was slashing out with her lightsaber, expertly knocking a mercenary back, while Carth fired at a pair of advancing foes. The Mandalorians' armor, though tough and capable of deflecting blaster shots, was no match for the Jedi's lightsabers. Carth and Canderous found themselves falling back, allowing the Jedi to take the lead. The Jedi's lightsabers effortlessly deflected laser fire before slicing through the enemy's armor and flesh with precision and ease.

Amidst the chaos, Willow rolled to avoid a blaster bolt and suddenly found herself staring up into the muzzle of a blaster. Calo Nord stood over her, the weapon leveled at her forehead with a steady arm. He glanced up just in time to see Sarryn cut down the final Mandalorian. Sarryn's face fell as he saw Willow on her knees with a gun to her head.

"All right!" Nord yelled, his voice betraying a slight crack in his usually cool composure. "I don't know how you all pulled that off, but you try it again and she pays for it! I've got this on a hair-trigger, so if anyone tries anything, I'll—"

Nord stopped mid-sentence, letting out a small gasp. Willow instinctively rolled out of the way, but the blaster didn't go off. Instead, Nord stood motionless, staring ahead in shock. He then looked down at the bar of green energy protruding from his midsection. The lightsaber was pulled out, and Nord collapsed to his knees, a look of utter incomprehension on his face. He pitched forward and lay still.

Everyone stared at him in disbelief before becoming aware of the green lightsaber flashing behind the spot where Nord had stood. It was held by a black man dressed in non-descript brown robes. "Ah, the damnable racket of battle!" he said in a gravelly voice as he turned the lightsaber off and stepped forward.

He appeared to be in his 60s, judging by the lined wrinkles on his face. He was completely bald, with a goatee that was almost entirely white. However, his body was still strong and athletic, showing little signs of the weakness of age. His eyes were dark and steady as they took in the group standing before him. "Well, well, well. To what do I owe the honor of such an interesting group of visitors?"

Dawn was the first to find her voice. "Who are you?" she demanded, her lightsaber still at the ready.

The man smiled, a calm and almost fatherly expression. "My name is Jolee Bindo."

"A Jedi Master?" Dawn asked, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and awe. "Here?"

Jolee grunted, waving off the title. "Don't coddle me, child. I'm no Jedi, and I'm certainly not your Master. My days of glory are behind me. I'm just the crazy old man who lives in the woods."

Willow tilted her head, curiosity evident in her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Jolee glanced around the dense, shadowy forest. "I think it best we talk somewhere safer. We can leave these bodies to the scavengers. A lovely thing about Kashyyyk, the forest takes care of its own waste." He started to walk off, motioning for them to follow. "Come on, my home isn't far from here."

After a brief exchange of glances, the group decided to follow him. Carth and Canderous lingered just long enough to check the dead bodies, collecting weapons and other items. Canderous's eyes lit up as he pulled a sizeable load of credits off Nord's body. "This will be a help," he muttered, stepping over the lifeless bounty hunter.