Early in 20 before the Battle of Yavin
"Sing for me, my goldenthroat!" Noggox's voice boomed through the palace throne room.
The young Vagaari posed and thought about what she would sing for the Hutt. She also wondered if her song might also appeal to the Jedi who, according to Noggox's announcement, would be arriving here today. The Hutt knew that it was Marasha's wish to see a Jedi in the flesh, and today that wish would come true. She wondered whether the Jedi Order would send a human to Affa or one from an exotic species she didn't know yet. Surely it would be like it was when that chunky Jedi spaceship was nearby the now lost Vagaari fleet. That time she'd felt, as if some very powerful beings were in her vicinity. She hadn't been able to place this feeling at the time, but now she would know and recognize when a Jedi was approaching.
Marasha was just about to open both of her mouths when she felt the tingling sensation in her neck that ran through the young Vagaari when something was about to happen that would fundamentally change things. That had already been the case, before Jorj Car'das had been led into her father's throne room. Back then she had ignored it and just waited to see what would happen. After the destruction of the Vagaari fleet, she had vowed to pay closer attention to such warning signs. But what exactly should she tell the Hutt? That she felt a presence of the same power she had already felt emanating from that gigantic Jedi spacecraft seven years ago? How would a being as force-insensitive as Noggox, whose species was immune to mind tricks, react to such warnings?
She felt into the Force again. She was dark, violent and evil, treacherous, merciless! But at least there was only one person traveling with it. Why did the Jedi, who were supposed to protect the galaxy, send such a...?
Noggox's two guards who came through the door answered this her silent question as the newcomer was ushered in. The man was tall, much taller than the men of various species Marasha had ever seen on Jedha or here on Affa. His yellow face was covered with dark gray tattoos that looked so forbidding and frightening that they would have suited any Vagaari mask. He wore an impressive crown of horns on his head, his yellow eyes shining with barely concealed hostility. His mouth was twisted in disgust, but that was how many creatures reacted when they saw a Hutt. The stranger was muscular, his movements calm and powerful. He wore dark gray armor that clearly marked him as an accomplished warrior. But something was missing. And that missing thing was in Meedo's pink suction cup hand.
"Oh mighty Noggox," the pink Rodian said to his master. "We caught this guy behind the hangar and he was carrying this weapon. He didn't resist."
Like a trophy, Meedo held up the huge halberd, which he himself would hardly be able to fight with. Marasha looked at the captive, whose hands were tied behind his back with steel shackles. At least he wouldn't be able to get the weapon back that quickly. Nevertheless, Car'das had not carried any hand weapons with him and even without them he had brought a lot of death and suffering. What if there was some foul magic in that blade too? However, this wasn't the Jedi they were expecting.
"Mighty Noggox," Marasha interrupted and went to the Hutt on the dais. "Can we speak in private?"
The Hutt waved his hand toward the back door. "When I'm done with this."
She leaned over to his ear and stretched as best she could with her now four-foot-five feet. "It's important. It's because of him!" She didn't dare look over at the guy. She knew he would sense it if she behaved too conspicuously. "Do you know him?" asked the Hutt.
"I know his kind. He is dangerous. You should get rid of him while you still can."
"I can still do that if he told me what he was doing here," Noggox said back just as quietly, then he motioned for her to get down from his pedestal again. She opened her right mouth again only to close it again silently. The Hutt had made his will known and she had to follow.
Idiot!
She did as she was told and stood to the side, fixing her gaze on the door that was the back exit of the hall.
Noggox waved to Meedo and he handed him the halberd. The Hutt weighed the strange warrior's weapon in his hand. The horned one stood silently before the ruler of Affa and waited for permission to speak. Marasha thought it was very professional. When she thought of Car'das... or of Noggox's guests who had simply started throwing their concerns into the house - and Noggox had tolerated it. Now, however, the Hutt's wide mouth had turned into a relaxed smile.
Boobies!
"You are in danger," the warrior began darkly in his deep voice. "A Jedi will come."
Marasha took a few slow, discreet steps toward the back door. She was still able to escape, especially since her singing skills were currently dispensable.
"Bwahahah! What a thigh slapper!" Noggox said, patting his big belly as his rattling laugh filled the throne room. "I appreciate the warning, but as you can see, I am in no danger. My fortress's defenses are state-of-the-art, my guards are as loyal as they are deadly. You were smart to surrender. As for the Jedi, you will be surprised to learn that I expect his arrival within the hour. I have invited him."
The grey-armored warrior rolled his yellow eyes. Apparently he wasn't particularly interested in what Noggox had just told him. Marasha knew that he was waiting for his turn, for the fulfillment of his true mission that went beyond the role of a mere messenger boy.
"Two of my ships that were carrying parts to the Republic shipyards in Fondor were recently ambushed by space pirates."
Marasha listened. Had Noggox just mentioned space pirates? Around here?
"Nice axe," Noggox said, amused, as was his wont. "What brings you to the planet Affa, stranger? The Jedi claims that the space pirates are allies of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He has offered to accompany my cargo to Fondor. I hope the Jedi, the pirates and the Confederates slaughter each other..."
Marasha furrowed her brows. Why did Noggox tell the stranger all this? Her father would have asked this giant clear, precise questions instead of bombarding him with a torrent of his own sensitivities. What she liked even less was this three-way constellation that Noggox thought he was so superior to. So he had invited the Jedi to think about his death now. And then there were the pirates and the Confederacy of Independent Systems. It probably made sense that their leader, Dooku, would hire pirates to thwart Republic-affiliated Noggox. But the Miskara of her people would never have told such a thing to a runaway captive. How weak and soft this Hutt was! She found herself wishing that the stranger would try something to stop this torrent of talk.
'Try?' her father's mocking voice sounded in her little ears after Jorj Car'das had offered the Miskara to try to activate the battle droids he was carrying with him. Marasha knew instinctively that the yellow guy wouldn't try anything there. No, he would do what he had to do without wasting many words. Thank the stars he was tied up – still. She took a few more steps, moving sideways to the back door without ostentatiously turning her back to those in the hall. Nobody paid any attention to her – a good thing.
"I'm curious," she still heard Noggox's chatty tone. "How do you know the Jedi is traveling to Affa?"
Finally! thought Marasha. Finally a concrete, targeted question, albeit quite late!
"Count Dooku," the yellow man replied, and the two words sounded like a curse.
"Dooku?" Noggox repeated in genuine surprise.
Marasha rewinded time to the day the Separatist leader had come to Affa. Dooku also had a pretty scary aura of power around him, but it was very focused and controlled. With this giant, however, it seemed very raw and as if all the powers he possessed could burst out of him at once without anyone being able to stop him.
Two more steps and Marasha had made it. The door was within reach and, as an escape exit as she knew, not secured. "You are in danger," she heard the stranger continue in a neutral tone, then his tone became harsher. "Because Dooku knows that you invited the Jedi!"
There it was, what Marasha had been waiting for - a naked threat. So Dooku had sent the stranger to take revenge, state an example, whatever.
Marasha pressed the button and the door slid open. She slipped through and came face to face with a Gamorrean who held his lance at an angle to cut off her path.
She moved her hand as if to apologize for sneaking away. "I am to tell you from Noggox to go inside to protect your master," Marasha said in a commanding tone.
The massive guard stared at her with dull eyes for a moment, then time stopped.
Marasha froze and saw, as if through a haze, how the portly fellow with tusks on his face walked through the back entrance in her place, back into Noggox's throne room. Then she heard a loud clink. She looked through the open door to see the halberd, which was flying across the hall, completely detached. The rest of the action was obscured by Noggox's massive figure on his pedestal. At that moment she knew that the clinking sound from earlier was caused by the broken shackles that the captive must have thrown off. If it was that easy for him, had he ever really been trapped? For Noggox and his people, perhaps, but not for someone with the Force.
The singing of the huge weapon through the air, its rush through vulnerable flesh, the loud cracking of bones cut in two, mixed with the screams of pain of the hit and dying, reached her small ears set high on her head in a horribly loud cacophony.
"Stop him!" the Trandoshan shouted - his screams merely an inconsequential accompaniment to this symphony of violence.
Marasha stood behind the doorframe, her back pressed against the wall, suppressing a two-part whistle from both of her mouths, as if she could give it away among all the sounds of that butchery in the throne room. She breathed a cautious sigh of relief as the screaming, the entire sound of the killing, became a little less and, above all, quieter until it died down completely. There was absolute silence in the throne room for a while, then she heard the Hutt's excited gasps. "Stop!" she heard Noggox's voice - as high, as desperate, as whining as she had never heard it before. "I have credits. I can..."
Stupid, ignorant weakling!
A whistle from the blade once again whizzing through the air of the throne room, followed by a wet slapping sound, ended Noggox's sentence.
Her thoughts of the now dead Hutt were interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching the back door. So the guy sensed that there was a survivor, a witness to the massacre. Now the yellow one would complete it - quickly, purposefully, mercilessly - just as her people had done before in their requisition campaigns or punitive actions.
Marasha woke up from her torpor. She instinctively crouched down, pushed off the wall with the sole of her foot in a strappy sandal, and ran. The heavy steps followed her, becoming lighter and faster.
Marasha felt herself starting to sweat beneath her purple, gold-trimmed dress. At least the pleated, floor-length skirt was airy enough to run with. The straps of her sandals rubbed painfully against the skin of her ankles. This footwear was made for show, not for escaping a certain death. The yellow one came closer; she could hear a hissing that was more like a wild animal than the sounds of a rational being. What was he? She knew she would never find out. Either because he would kill her or - and that was what she wanted - she would escape him.
He caught up, much too quickly! Vagaari were never known for their long legs, but while running they still could develop a high speed. Still the warrior behind her was unnaturally fast! What was he? She still wasn't about to find out. She turned one corner and then zigzagged around another. The stranger would have to pause to make the double change of direction just like she, who knew the building.
The young Vagaari stood in front of three turbolifts. One of them was open and waiting for passengers. She got in and pressed the cellar button. In holodramas, people usually went to the top. How stupid! However, in the basement there were exits that would lead her out of the palace to safety. Assuming the damn turbolift door closed, which it didn't - yet.
A second passed. She didn't see her pursuer, but she felt his aggressive presence steadily approaching, rounding the first corner. Thanks to his loud hissing, she could now even hear him.
Another second went by. The large turbolift door began to close. He would soon turn the corner again - the second and last.
The third second dawned and the horned man appeared in front of the already half-closed turbolift.
No!
Marasha pressed her back against the cool steel wall of the turbolift. In the desperate reflex of a hopeless defensive battle, she tightened her arm muscles and defensively stretched her brown palms forward, as if she could thereby prevent the clawed hands of the yellow giant in front of her from placing themselves on the halves of the door as they moved towards each other in order to prevent them from sliding together; but there was nothing else she could have done but make this last, rebellious resistance. The muscular, heavily armored arms came closer - and with them these huge, murderous hands, whose fingers had almost reached the two halves of the turbolift door. With claws like that, how could anyone...? Oh yes, he could certainly hold the door open with his huge paws. And with such long claws you could kill wonderfully!
"Amacrisier!"
In two voices the Vagaari word boomed from the still half-open turbolift cabin through the long hall, in which there was nothing but the three side-by-side doors that led to the turbolifts ... and the yellow warrior. Purple eyes stared into yellow, red-rimmed irises, then those burning eyes flew away from her - like the entire warrior, thrown backwards by a power the likes of which Marasha had never felt coursing through her veins before.
The third second was complete and the turbolift door slid completely closed. As a result of her outburst Marasha fell backwards, slumping against the cool steel wall of the turbolift as the cabin began to move slowly, reassuringly in its own way.
The door slid open again just as slowly as it had closed before, but time no longer meant anything to Marasha. Still stunned by what she had just done, she stood up and staggered out of the turbolift. The door behind her closed and the turbolift started moving to go up again. At that moment, Marasha's sense of time returned. She had to get out of here before the yellow one would be able to keep on coming for her.
She ran through the underground hall, reached the end, crossed another hall - always towards one of the delivery entrances that she knew. She was reassured to see that the yellow giant's presence was no longer felt. Apparently he had dismissed her escape as not being significant enough to be worth following. Or maybe she had really been good enough to leave him behind. A third hall was filled with the half-light of Affa's dusk. There, on the other side, a huge open gate yawned - the gate into... what actually?
Slowing her pace, Marasha headed for the exit. Noggox had said the Jedi would arrive in an hour. She looked at her chrono. Only ten standard minutes had passed in which Noggox's end and her escape had occurred. A buzzing noise brought her out of her thoughts. An egg rose from the ground, just big enough for two people, she estimated. She had already seen this egg somewhere. Noggox would certainly have known who this sleek spaceship belonged to. The further the alien spaceship moved away from Affa's ground, the more Marasha was filled with a feeling of calm and security that seemed very unusual to her. She had just lost her master. Nobody knew who would guarantee the continued existence of his droid factory after Noggox's death, and the maintenance of his court living in the rooms of his palace.
She attempted to call Bearsh, but her Vagaari comlink indicated that the subscriber was out of range. Actually, she could have guessed that. She would go to one of the public transmitter stations to connect to Dool Pundar to ask for Bearsh. She wondered what else she should tell the Neimoidian. That she wanted to put herself under his protection again? Bearsh would have used the opportunity to create a suitable story and to build a new life for himself. That's exactly what she would do now. Then she could still contact Dool Pundar to ask him about Bearsh.
༺༻
The hum of an incoming spaceship interrupted her thoughts about the future. She extended her senses and recognized something familiar, new and ... safety. The people who just arrived were not a threat. And one of them...
Something made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She saw the white hexagon of the huge spaceship conglomerate before her again, felt the power present there. No, there was no fatal wave from the incoming ship. The wave had already been there and she had escaped it. Still, there was something that touched her - something from the past. She would find out what it was.
The presence was drawing closer - a clear, calm, calming force - the Jedi had come! Now, finally, she would have the opportunity to fulfill her part of the vow she had made with her cousin. She would explore the Jedi Force - too old or not, she would come up with something. Especially since she had just collected valuable information that she could use to trade and prosper. She hurried to the square landing pad where she knew guests would land.
The shuttle was painted red and white and descended to land. The entry hatch door opened. The first thing Marasha saw was a tall, red-skinned humanoid with messy black hair held back from his face by a red headband. The guy was even taller than the yellow one from before, he had to be at least three standard meters high. No, that wasn't the Jedi! The group also included four white-armored Republic soldiers, all of them human, as she already knew. A yellowish battle droid ran behind. Marasha was surprised that a Jedi even traveled with such machines. This contradicted everything Kuvuta and Noggox had told her about Jedi. But apparently battle droids were more widespread in the Republic than she had previously thought.
The group regrouped to head towards the entrance to the Hutt's residence - straight forward. Now Marasha could finally catch a glimpse of the Jedi, who had previously been obscured by his white-armored companions - only to freeze into a purple and gold-clad pillar of salt. Her heart stopped for a moment. Involuntarily, the image of Hana, the little Geroon girl, forced itself into every corner of her conscious mind. She could still clearly remember the angst and the fear of death that had stood in the little one's big, brown eyes. Now that fear of death was written in her own purple eyes. No doubt the Jedi noticed.
Marasha forced herself to remain calm and instead studied the Jedi's face. He was still quite young, maybe ten or eleven years old. Did the Jedi send children into battle? Had things gotten that bad in the galaxy? Or were these children already that good?
She felt herself breaking out in a sweat again as she looked into the Jedi's bright blue, sharp-featured face, into his glowing red eyes that seemed to pierce her - just as they had when Commander Thrawn and his companions on the Vagaari fleet's flagship had walked unsuspectingly past her and Bearsh to rescue the traitor from the zero-G plastic bubble. But back then, seven years ago, Thrawn at least couldn't see her and Bearsh, but now that she was face to face with a real Chiss, live and in color, and he was looking directly at her, she was seized with sheer horror. Until now, no one knew of her species here in the Republic. Why on earth did the Jedi have to send a Chiss to Affa?! By now the group had gotten close enough to be able to talk to each other. The red-skinned humanoid wanted to say something to her, but the Chiss ordered him to remain silent.
"You don't need to be afraid," he said to her in a reassuring tone in Basic without any accent. "It's strangely quiet here in front of the palace. Do you know what happened here?"
"Noggox is dead. His entourage too. I managed to escape and now I'm here."
She felt the Chiss looking at her face and her dress. "Did you work for Noggox?" the Jedi asked sympathetically.
"I was a singer in his court."
"Let's go into the hall," the Jedi decided. "Can you stand it?" he asked her considerately, as if she were the younger of the two.
Marasha narrowed her eyes briefly. "I guess I'll have to go through that."
"So you didn't see it?" the Jedi wondered.
"I escaped the throne room before it started, but I felt it."
"You felt it?" the Chiss asked, looking intently into her purple eyes. She wore a mysterious look. "I feel things like that, yeah. I guess that's why I'm still alive."
"So you escaped the throne room before the massacre began. What happened then?"
"I heard through the open back door how the slaughter began. After Noggox was dead, the assassin sensed me and followed me. I was just able to escape into a turbolift cabin, which then took off."
"What did the assassin look like?"
"He was yellow with dark gray tattoos, quite tall, with horns. He had yellow eyes and carried a halberd with him, which he must have killed everyone in the throne room with. And..." she paused pregnant with meaning. "He seemed to know the Jedi Force - just like you."
The Chiss thought about it. "From your description, this could be the same assassin who killed two Jedi and many clone troopers on Devaron."
"So you already know him?"
"We are working at full speed to capture him and bring him to justice. Your description will help us a lot."
"He said he was working for Count Dooku. He left about half an hour ago in a smaller, egg-shaped spaceship."
"Yes, we know that. He uses Dooku's solar glider on his missions. But I'm being so rude," the Chiss changed the subject. "I am Padawan Nuru Kungurama. What is your name?"
"I am Marasha."
"And your family name?"
"We don't have that."
"That's strange," Nuru said. "What species are you?"
She swallowed. Noggox had told her that Jedi would recognize lies immediately. That's why Marasha didn't think it would be a good idea to begin her approach to the Jedi Order with a lie. Especially since she couldn't know whether there might even be Geroons as Jedi if the Order had Chiss in its ranks.
"I'd rather keep that to myself," she replied in a sad, mysterious tone.
The Chiss boy smiled. "If you tell me your species, I'll tell you mine."
"You're a Chiss. It shows," she replied challengingly.
For a moment his red eyes widened. "Wait a minute! You know my species? How? I haven't met anyone in Republic space who could tell me straight away that I'm a Chiss. And we're pretty far from my home."
Marasha considered. She had just made a grave mistake. All she really wanted to do was show that she didn't have to tell him about her species. Her left mouth smiled. "Maybe it was a bird chirping to me."
"Are you from Wild Space?" he tried again to find out something about her origins.
"I am a refugee and have no home," she explained firmly. "Noggox the Hutt took me in and made a living for me here. That's all you need to know."
Nuru Kungurama looked a little embarrassed at this answer, then they had already reached the palace. Marasha led the Jedi and his six-man squad to the throne room.
When the Jedi, his friend, the clone troopers, the battle droid and their young guide entered the soiled audience hall, they had to be careful not to step in pools of various colors of blood and slip, shortly after passing through the entrance gate, so evenly distributed the assassin had carried out his bloody craft in the hall.
It had never smelled particularly good in Noggox's audience hall, despite the various air exchangers that were always running when the late ruler of Affa held court, but Marasha had already heard that other Hutts didn't smell much better than her former boss. The worst thing - the Rodian Meedo had once told her - was when several Hutts were gathered together and constantly demanded company and service. Now, however, the giant snail's usual sweat and pheromone fumes were joined by the stench of half-digested food, mixed with the strong smell of stomach acids that one usually smells in the vicinity of immediate vomit. The clone troopers, who had taken off their helmets after arriving on Affa, looked at each other briefly, then, as soon as they entered the throne room, they put their helmets back on to breathe through the air purification system integrated into their armor.
To the left of Noggox's repulsor platform, Marasha saw Meedo's body lying there. The stranger had chopped off the head and severed a leg of the pink majordomo, who had briefly kept his blade. Dark blood surrounded the corpse.
"Yes," Kungurama murmured as they examined the mutilated bodies. "Just like on Devaron."
Marasha's gaze fell on the repulsor platform on which the body of her former employer lay. Split neatly vertically down the middle, the Hutt's head still rested on his massive torso. The yellow eyes, now very wide apart due to the powerful blow, looked fixedly and fearfully in different directions into nowhere. Dark intestines, their contents and watery blood spilled out of a gaping cut in the snail creature's thick belly. The aviator sunglasses that Noggox had always liked to wear to demonstrate modernity and openness to the galaxy were lying on the floor. The yellow giant must have stepped on it on purpose, because both glasses and the frame with a strong kick were crushed into countless shards.
"I was right about the raw meat," said the red giant next to the Chiss, as if he were visiting a restaurant.
Nuru curled his upper lip. "I think that would be too much even for you, Gizz."
"Does that mean our mission is over?" the battle droid asked, his photo-receptors fixating the dead Hutt.
"No, Cleaver," the Chiss replied. "We have to report to Master Yoda and coordinate further action with the temple. After all, we should secure a transport of goods for Noggox and we can't just call it off because he's dead. You know that the Republic needs this delivery."
"Roger, roger," Cleaver replied monotonously.
The Chiss boy turned to the Vagaari girl. "Would you like to come with us to our ship and later testify about what happened?" Marasha had spent months, if not years, wondering what to say when she met a Jedi. How she could convince the Jedi to take her to his order's temple. But now that this Chiss Jedi was offering her exactly that, she was speechless and couldn't answer right away.
"I can understand that this comes as a surprise to you, Marasha," Nuru said understandingly, "but you would be helping the Republic a lot with this."
Marasha found her language again. "You mean I should fly with you to Coruscant... to the Jedi Temple?"
"Only if you want me to."
Her eyes began to shine. "It would be an honor!"
༺༻
They went back to the Jedi shuttle. Nuru activated the holoprojector and a blue cylinder came to life, in which the image of a small green man with big ears materialized.
"Master Yoda, Noggox and his entire entourage have been murdered," Nuru Kungurama reported. "We have a witness here who saw the assassin and can identify him. She told us that he works for Count Dooku and she can also give statements about the crime. And... she is Force sensitive."
"The droid heads for Fondor – still there they are?" asked the little man. "We have secured Noggox's factory. It appears his freighter is untouched. How should we proceed?"
"Hmmm ... independent from the Hutt Council - Noggox was. Necessary for our fleet - the cargo of this freighter is. To the shipyards of Fondor - the droid brains you bring. Because Dooku his fingers in it has ... help you will get."
"Help?" it came back from the Chiss.
"Another Jedi - dispensible has become. Soon after at Affa - arrive he will. The Force with you - may be, Nuru!"
One of the soldiers pointed his black-gloved hand skyward. "Commander, a Jedi Hunter is approaching."
Marasha winced. The soldier had called the Chiss Commander. Just like Car'das had called Thrawn Commander back then. She thought about how it would feel like if she called the Chiss the same thing. What would Bearsh say to that?
The hunter came closer and the transparisteel vault opened. Marasha saw a green man with many tentacles of the same green color on his head that reached to his waist. His eyes were large, round and black. He might have been in his mid-forties, but she didn't recognize his species.
"Master Fisto! I just spoke with Master Yoda and…" the Chiss began.
"I'm aware of the murders here, Nuru," the tall green man replied as he climbed out of his Hunter. "Master Yoda told me everything. Clone intelligence is on the way... Thanks to our witness, they won't have too much to do. Our job is to fly to Fondor. We'll put my fighter in the freighter's hangar. Nuru, you and I, we'll take the freighter."
"Whoa! Who gives the orders here?" asked the red one.
"Gizz," Nuru said, "Master Fisto is a Jedi General. He is above me in rank."
Master Fisto smiled. "But Gizz is right, Nuru. It is your mission. Your orders, Commander?"
There it was again - that word that had this negative connotation for Marasha in connection with a Chiss. And now even the Jedi general, who was at least four times his age, was addressing the boy like that.
"We'll take the freighter," the Chiss decided.
They boarded the spaceship and entered the passenger compartment. Marasha looked around. Everything in the ship was clean and tidy. There were no signs of repairs such as bulging welds, applied patches or abrasions on the interior paneling. The air was neither too warm nor too cold and smelled like the atmosphere at the top of a mountain on a sparsely populated planet. The metal fittings on the seats and the other interieur were shiny and showed no signs of rust or scuffing. And everything was quiet and peaceful - no loud hustle and bustle like there used to be on the great ships of her people's lost fleet. Gizz sat on the back bench next to Marasha, while on the front bench Master Fisto chatted with the Chiss piloting the freighter.
"Master Fisto, I…" the Chiss searched for the right words, "I regret that I never told you how sad I was at the loss of your former Padawan Nahdar Vebb."
"And I should have offered you my condolences for Master Lanchu Skaa. I was with your late master when he fell on Geonosis. As for your second master Ring-Sol Ambase… I hope he is at peace."
"My condolences from me too," said Marasha from behind, next to a snoring Gizz. "I didn't know so many Jedi were dying now."
"My second master did not die," the Chiss replied. "He left the order of his own accord."
"Something like that works?" she wondered.
Nuru turned to her. "Democracy and freedom do reign here in the Republic. Of course it's possible."
They exited hyperspace via Fondor. In front of them lay a planet, mostly shrouded in yellow-greyish clouds. Surrounding the celestial body were orbital platforms that looked like crescent moons orbiting their planet.
Marasha nudged Nuru from behind and pointed to one of the platforms hanging in orbit. "Are those ships? Does anyone live there?"
"Wait until we get closer," the Jedi replied. "Then you will see the ships being built in these shipyards."
"What kind of ships are built on Fondor?" she wanted to know.
Nuru allowed himself a look behind her and smiled. "Mostly combat ships – the really big ones."
"What's between us and the shipyards?" asked Gizz, who had now woken up.
Marasha looked out the window. One of Fondor's shipyards was now in the immediate vicinity, but just as she was about to examine the ship, which lay in that dock like a baby in a cradle, an almost complete circle of a white ship pushed itself in front of the viewing window. She knew this ship, at least from what Bearsh had told her.
"That's Dool Pundar! That's his pirate ship! And that's no coincidence!", Nuru Kungurama confirmed her fears.
"Let's sort this out later, Nuru," said the green Jedi master with the many tentacles on his head. "Twelve Vulture droids are approaching us at high speed... and this freighter can't outrun them. Stay close to the attack shuttle while I go to my fighter."
"Gizz, take over the laser cannon!" the young Chiss ordered the big red one.
Marasha saw Master Fisto activate a comm system. "This is Kit Fisto, General of the Grand Army of the Republic. Dool Pundar...surrender! Now!"
The young Vagaari hid her slim figure behind Gizz to avoid being seen. Dool Pundar's face would soon materialize in the comm system. And being seen by this pirate as a traitor who was working for the Jedi who were preparing to attack him was the last thing she wanted right now. Because, unlike Car'das and Thrawn back then, she had not discussed such a turn of events with the Neimoidian in advance.
"Well? So afraid of evil space pirates, young lady?" Gizz teased her. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
The Vulture droids fired at the freighter to disable its defenses. Gizz had already taken a hit at the back, but the shields were still holding.
"Then we'll take the flock straight back to their hive," Nuru announced. "Hold on!"
The young Chiss steered the freighter directly into the Profit's landing bay, from where the Vulture Droid Hunters had swarmed out. Now they latched onto the freighter again and crashed into the hangar and in front of it because there wasn't enough landing space. The landing was so hard that Marasha was roughly pressed against the back of Nuru's seat, behind which she now hid in fear.
"You'd best stay here in the freighter, girl. We'll get him out of here soon - at least I hope so," Gizz said, patting Marasha on the shoulder.
"I didn't have anything else to do," she replied in a thick voice.
"See you then, Marasha," the Chiss said goodbye to her. "May the Force be with you!"
She smiled. "Thank you, with you … with you too."
It took less than ten minutes for the two Jedi, Gizz and the clone troopers to get back into the freighter. Without Dool Pundar, Marasha noted with relief.
Nuru interpreted her relief as being happy that everyone had returned to the ship safe and sound.
"Yes, we're back, but Pundar and his crew are in escape pods. So we're going to hand over his freighter to the Fondor spaceport authority. And the cargo to the shipyards," the Chiss updated Marasha.
"At least he had to escape without loot," she said.
Nuru smiled boldly. "Fondar's space patrol will pick up his escape capsules."
They landed and handed over the cargo and freighter to the responsible official. They then went back to the red and white shuttle, where Nuru contacted Master Yoda.
"Nuru, to see you – happy I am," the green grandmaster said.
"We were just attacked by Dool Pundar's gang, but managed to repel the attack. Pundar's people have fled. Should we pursue them?"
Yoda cradled his green head. "Of the opportunity the pirate - advantage he wanted to take. Failed he has. But that he works with Dooku - to prove we have."
Yoda's green eyes turned at the green Jedi. "Looking for Pundar – help you will, Master Fisto."
The Grand Master of the Jedi Order turned to the Chiss again. "As for you and the breakout team: With the witness of the Affa massacre – return to Coruscant you should."
Marasha let out a two-note whistle. Regardless of whether the green Jedi caught Pundar or not, she would not be there and from now on she could devote herself fully to the new task, as she had promised Bearsh - provided she was not too old for it. On the other hand, Nuru had specifically mentioned to the Grandmaster that she had the Force. He and Fisto had also talked about how many Jedi were now falling in battle. So the Order had to replenish its ranks from somewhere.
Kit Fisto and his hunter left the ship with which Nuru, Gizz and the Breakout Squad were traveling. The Chiss sat in the pilot's seat and they took off Fondor.
Gizz, who was sitting next to her again, placed a huge arm around her on the backrest behind her, but without touching her. "Say, little one, you have very interesting gold tattoos on your cheeks and chin," Gizz began a conversation with Marasha. "Is it always like that with your species, or do you also make them in silver or green?"
"It's all nature," she replied. "We are born with these gold markings."
"I noticed those gold marks on your skin too," Nuru chimed in from the front. "I don't know of any species that has such marks. Only the Mirialans and they tattoo something like that on these places, but only in black or brown."
"Blood Carvers are even completely golden," a soldier chimed in from behind after removing his helmet – like his brothers in arms.
Only then did Marasha see that the faces of the soldiers were all very similar, far too similar for it to be a coincidence.
"Blood Carvers are much bigger than them, Chatterbox," Gizz argued. "And besides, they're ugly as hell."
"Are there Blood Carvers among the Jedi?" asked Marasha.
Nuru laughed. "They're very rare and pretty special. Anakin Skywalker once killed one, I don't know anything more about them."
"He definitely didn't look golden after that," Gizz sneered before turning back to Marasha. "Do you have gold marks like that elsewhere on your body?"
"Gizz!" Nuru snapped. "Please save your backhanded compliments for the waitresses at Dexter's Diner!"
"It's okay, Commander," Gizz muttered. "I just wanted to say that…"
"It's good, please don't make it worse!" Nuru cut him off to save his friend from being embarrassed again.
"Are you brothers?" Marasha asked Chatterbox.
"Yes, we are. We are clone troopers," the person addressed replied proudly. "We were created in Jango Fett's image and we serve the Republic! That's all you need to know, kid."
"Who actually decided that it should be this Jango Fett?" Marasha wanted to know. "Was he that good?"
"He was the best bounty hunter in the galaxy," Chatterbox explained. "And we have won many victories, which should sufficiently prove his suitability."
That wasn't enough for her. "So you don't know who decided what you look like?"
"What?" asked another clone trooper. "You don't like us?"
She smiled apologetically. "That's not what I meant."
"No, Breaker," another soldier chimed in, "she certainly meant we should all look like Cleaver back there." He pointed to the yellowish battle droid that stood at the back of the wall.
"I don't know anything that speaks against it, Knuckles," the battle droid replied flattered.
"No!" she protested. "Definitely not."
"Oh, poor Cleaver, there you have it. You're even uglier than us," said Breaker, pointedly pitying.
"Now stop it!" Marasha ended the teasing. "I've just never heard of anyone creating a clone army. That's why I would like to know who decides something like this. But maybe this knows … Commander Nuru," she squeezed out the last two words.
The Chiss shrugged. "I have to confess: I don't have any idea," replied the Jedi.
She smiled with both mouths. There's so much you don't know, little Chiss!
Author's note: This chapter also deals with events that take place in the comic "Strange Allies", Volume 7 of The Clone Wars series by Dark Horse (2011). I've slimmed down the plot considerably here. The Twi'lek Kuvuta Pindi is usually not as nice as in my story, but towards the end of the comic there is a rather unpleasant, absurd and embarrassing incident between everyone involved. Things are different here, as there is no need to prolong Marasha's journey with unnecessary stopovers.
And with this chapter we have arrived at the Clone Wars. I now read in a book about Star Wars that Timothy Zahn was given strict instructions for his novels to keep anything that took place in the Clone Wars era out of his novels. Thankfully, I'm not bound by this instruction, so I can get the most out of it, especially when it comes to The Clone Wars TV series, which I absolutely love.