Timothy Zahn - Survivor's Quest

He led them through a dozen twists and turns to a small balcony overlooking a room that was, as near as Luke could judge, buried nearly dead center in the core of the ship. It was about the same size as the reception area had been, but with a much lower ceiling. Unlike the reception room, it was crammed full of consoles, displays, wall monitors, and Chiss. Most of the aliens were dressed in the same black as General Drask, though their outfits were tighter fitting, less elaborate, and clearly more functional. Luke spotted Drask himself on a circular podium in the center of the room, conferring with a Chiss wearing an outfit similar to his but with green patches where the general's uniform showed red.

"This is the command center," Formbi said, as calm as if he was leading a tour through an interesting display of painted shellfish. "The officer wearing green patches is Captain Brast'alshi'barku, the line commander of this vessel—you may address him as Captain Talshib. And that," he added, pointing across to the largest of the wall displays, "is apparently our incoming vessel."

Luke focused on the image. The alien ship looked like a slightly squashed sphere, light-colored but with a close-order pattern of dark spots covering the hull that could have been viewports, vents, or even just decoration. There was no scale on the display that he could see, but if the ships now swarming around it were more of the fighters that had run escort for the Jade Sabre, then the intruder was decently sized.

"Doesn't look like a warship," Mara commented from beside him. "They usually have at least one low-silhouette, high-firepower plane available to present to an approaching enemy. That thing's going to be a perfect target no matter what direction it comes at you from."

"You forget the Death Star," Luke reminded her. "It was shaped more or less like that."

"And its design stunk, too," Mara retorted. "It just happened to be big enough and mean enough to get away with it."

"Mostly," Luke couldn't resist saying.

"Whatever." Mara gestured. "This thing, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be even half the size of a Dreadnaught."

Formbi turned to Feesa. "Feesa, please go and ask the ambassador to join us," he said. "He, too, may find this interesting."

"I obey," Feesa said, bobbing her head in a quick bow and then hurrying off.

"The ambassador?" Mara asked.

"Yes," Formbi said. "Did I understand you to say you knew of a vessel of this type?"

"No, just a battle station of a similar shape," Luke said.

"It was destroyed a long time ago," Mara added. "Now, about this ambassador?"

She was interrupted by another trilling tone, a different combination of notes than the one they'd heard earlier. "Signal alert," Formbi identified it. "They're trying to communicate."

One of the smaller displays to the side cleared to reveal a pair of alien faces with large violet eyes, flattened ears rising high on the skull, and a pair of small mouths set just above the jawline. The skin was light tan, with a hint of exotic gold marbling about the jaw and cheeks. "What are they?" Luke asked.

"It's not a species I've seen before," Formbi said, leaning forward a little as if trying to see the image better.

"I thought you were the dominant species out here," Mara said. "Don't you know all your neighbors?"

"We have a significant number of stars and star systems, yes," Formbi said. There was neither arrogance nor apology in his voice; he was simply stating a fact. "But the Nine Families have long discouraged our people from probing or prying into the territories of others. Certainly the Defense Fleet and all official personnel are required to stay within our own borders."

He shrugged. "Besides which, there are also many small groups in this region of space, remnants of pirate attack or refugees of mass destruction by other aggressors. Plus, of course, there are those same pirates and aggressors. Even if we wished to do so, it would be a great undertaking to try to know them all."

"There are a hundred different threats out there that would freeze your blood if you knew about them," Mara murmured.

Formbi frowned at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I was just remembering something a Chiss once told me," Mara explained. "A warrior named Stent, back on Nirauan."

"Yes," Formbi said, his tone a little odd. Perhaps he didn't like being reminded that Parck had a lot of renegade Chiss working with him. "In actual fact, he may have underestimated the number. The galaxy outside Chiss territory is not a very safe place to be."

On the display, one of the aliens opened his mouths, and a flow of melodic sounds suddenly filled the room. Luke stretched out with the Force, wondering if he could get a sense of the words the way he'd once done with the Qom Qae and Qom Jha of Nirauan.

But those species' communication had had a Force component to it. This one did not, and his efforts were of no use.

"Ah," Formbi said. "At least they've been around the region long enough to pick up Minnisiat."

"What's that, a trade language?" Mara asked.

"Exactly," Formbi said, glancing at her with an approving look. "Minnisiat is the chief trade language among the various peoples of this area. Most Chiss know at least some of it, particularly those who live on border worlds like Crustai."

"What's he saying?" Luke asked.

Formbi pursed his lips. " 'Greetings to the noble and compassionate people of the Chiss Ascendancy,' " he said slowly. " 'I am Bearsh, first steward of the Geroon Remnant.' "

From the podium, General Drask was speaking now. It seemed to be the same language, though his voice was considerably less melodic than the Geroon's. " 'I am General Prard'ras'kleoni of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet,' " Formbi translated. " 'What is your business in Chiss territory?' "

To Luke's ears, Drask's question hadn't seemed particularly angry or threatening. The Geroon, though, apparently heard something different than he did. Bearsh's voice abruptly took on what seemed to be an alarmed tone, a sense that Formbi's translation merely confirmed. " 'We mean no affront. Please do not harm our vessel. We wish merely to honor those who died to free our people.' "

Drask looked up from his podium, his eyes searching briefly before locating Formbi on the observation balcony. "Aristocra?" he called. "Are you familiar with the event he refers to?"

"I have no knowledge of any such event," Formbi called back. "Ask him to explain."

The general turned and began speaking again. "I thought you didn't go out of your way to help people outside your territory," Mara said.

"We don't," Formbi said. The Geroon spoke again, and Formbi's glowing eyes narrowed as he listened. "I see," he said. "Interesting. Listen: 'We have heard you have located the bones of the Republic vessel known as Outbound Flight. The people who traveled in it sacrificed their lives that we might be freed from our enslavers.' "

"Wait a minute," Luke said, turning to Mara. "I thought you said Thrawn destroyed Outbound Flight."

"That's what Parck told me," Mara confirmed. "Maybe he was wrong."

"Or maybe this happened before Thrawn got to it?" Luke suggested.

Drask was speaking again. "General Drask is asking who their enslavers were," Formbi said, a thoughtful tone in his voice. "I wonder..."

His voice trailed off. "You know something?" Mara prompted.

"I have a thought," Formbi said. "Let's first see what the Geroon says."

Bearsh answered, stepping back from the holocam and waving his hands in a complicated pattern. "What's that behind him?" Luke asked, frowning as he tried to see past the two alien faces that were now only partially filling the screen. The area behind them seemed to be a large open room, possibly even larger than the reception area he and Mara had come through earlier. The walls and ceiling were colored a white-textured blue, and he could just see the tops of some kind of open structures above the aliens' heads.