Delusions of Grandeur Read online

  "Would you mind translating on this one?"

  "Why, certainly, Master Jacen. How could I mind? After all,

  translating has always been my primary function, though it's seldom used

  these days. I am fluent in over six forms of communication. Why, in my

  prime, I--"

  "Em Teedee," Jaina cut in.

  "Yes, Mistress Jaina?"

  "The translation please?"

  "Oh, yes. My associate, Artoo-Detoo, was sent by Master Luke to request

  that you report to the landing field to assist Master Peckhum in

  unloading supplies for the Jedi academy and for the New Republic

  defensive forces. He is due to arrive in just over four standard

  minutes."

  "Old Peckhum's coming here?" Jaina asked.

  "Hey, that's great," Jacen said. Lowie jumped to his feet.

  "Perhaps Peckhum will bring news of Zekk," Tenel Ka said.

  Jaina blushed slightly and looked away, and Jacen knew the same thought

  had occurred to hell "Well, what are we waiting for?" she asked.

  Jacen turned back to the incubator. He picked up the perfect,

  triangular shard of eggshell, put it in his pocket, and crooned to the

  little hatchling. "Don't worry, Nicta. We won't be away long." Then he

  and his companions raced together out to the landing field.

  .Though they'd seen it twice before, Jacen found it hard to get used to

  Peckhum's new ship, the Thunderbolt. It still seemed strange to see the

  old spacer flying the modern midsized cargo hauler.

  The gleaming entry ramp extended, and several more New Republic soldiers

  accompanied Peck-hum down to the ground.

  "Hope you don't mind some company," Peckhum said as the guards headed

  for their briefing rooms.

  "Had to drop off supplies with the ships up in orbit, and these five

  needed shore leave something' fierce.

  I also brought someone else with me. Chief of State Organa Solo wanted

  to make sure he got here safely."

  Jaina's eyes lit up. "Zekk?"

  Peckhum sighed. "Naw--wish it were. I have been getting' messages from

  Zekk fairly regular, though. Doesn't say much, 'cept that he's learnin'

  a lot about bounty huntin'."

  Jaina slipped the holorecording out of her pocket and pressed it into

  Peckhum's hand. "Will you get this message to Zekk for me?"

  "Sure will," Peckhum said. "Least we know the people we love are safe,"

  he added. "Which is more

  than my passenger can say."

  "Raynar?" Jacen guessed.

  Peckhum nodded. "I'm afraid that boy could use a good deal of cheerin'

  up right now."

  Lowie rumbled his willingness to help and headed up the ramp.

  "Don't worry, we'll take good care of him," Jaina assured the old

  spacer.

  "This is a fact," Tenel Ka said. "We will remain close to him while we

  unload supplies."

  "We'll find a way to get his mind off his worries," Jacen said,

  following Lowie up the ramp.

  'Tll even tell him some of my best jokes."

  "Uh-oh," Jaina said as she and Tenel Ka hurried on board. "We're all in

  trouble now."

  A SHOOTING STAR streaked across the velvety blackness of the night. From

  his safe perch in the treetops, Lowbacca looked up hopefully, wondering

  if it was a ship arriving unannounced. Perhaps a stranger, perhaps

  another addition to the New Republic defense fleet .

  . . perhaps his friend Raaba.

  His golden eyes studied the trail of light--but it dwindled to a fiery

  sparkle. Just a small meteor. The complex gravitational paths in the

  Yavin system sent many fragments of rock and dust into the fourth moon's

  orbit.

  It wasn't Raaba, then. Not yet.

  With a grumbling sigh, Lowie leaned back against the cushioning branches

  of the Massassi tree. Another false alarm. Returning to his routine of

  scouting the night sky, he let his thoughts and his memories drift again

  ....

  He had come here alone after dark, disregarding

  the dangers of Yavin 4's wilderness. Lowbacca was a powerful Wookiee,

  and he could take care of himself. The jungle moon's predators couldn't

  hold a candle to the nightmares he'd already encountered in the lower

  forest levels on Kashyyyk.

  Trying to hide his inner turmoil from his friends Jacen, Jaina, and

  Tenel Ka, Lowie had climbed out of the partially rebuilt Great Temple in

  the middle of the sleeping period. Lowie had hauled himself along the

  dew-slick stone blocks until he reached the place from which he could

  spring across to the wide boughs of the nearest Massassi tree.

  From there, he climbed higher until he reached the treetop canopy.

  He spread the shiny leaves and found himself a spot where he could sit

  back and look up into the vastness of stars. Where he could keep watch.

  His friend Raaba was out there . . . somewhere.

  Lowie touched his syren-fiber belt where Em Teedee normally hung.

  He had left the little droid switched to recharge mode on a shelf in his

  quarters.

  Em Teedee would have scolded him for going out alone at night, and

  undoubtedly would have talked too much when Lowbacca simply wanted peace

  and quiet.

  Below, he heard a large animal crashing through vines and underbrush.

  Plant-eating creatures chittered through the leaves, searching for

  tender night-blooming flowers. He heard the howls and snarls and

  snapping twigs of some violent struggle, but the commotion was far away.

  A nocturnal stalker had found its food for another day.

  It seemed long ago that Lowie had undergone his ordeal, risking his life

  in the lower Wookiee forests.

  It had been an important rite of passage to secure the gossamer fibers

  from the jaws of the carnivorous syren plant. And he had done it alone.

  Lowie had been cocky, so foolishly brave, but he had come back a hero,

  earning new respect from his fellow Wookiees. That newfound standing

  had won him the freedom to choose what he wished to do with his life.

  More than anything else, Lowie had wanted to be a Jedi Knight ....

  He hadn't dreamed, though, that his bravado might prove deadly for his

  friend Raabakyysh, a chocolate-furred Wookiee female who was a close

  companion of Lowie's sister Sirrakuk.

  Normally, comrades would accompany Wookiees during this coming-of-age

  ritual. But Raaba had been so impressed by Lowie's solo feat that she

  had attempted to duplicate it. If Lowbacca could do it alone, Raaba

  reasoned, then she needed no assistance either.

  Raabakyysh had vanished that night, leaving behind only a bloodied

  backpack. Lowie and Sirra had mourned the loss of their friend.

  Everyone had presumed her dead.

  But on Kuar, while Lowie and the other young

  Jedi Knights were searching for Bornan Thul in the ancient ruins, Rabba

  suddenly reappeared. She had been hiding all this time, trying to find

  her own way in life.

  During her long absence, Raaba had joined the Diversity Alliance, a

  political movement she believed in fervently. Its leader, a Twi'lek

  woman named Nolaa Tarkona, demanded restitution for all the damage

  inflicted by humans upon alien species.

  When Tyko Thul offhandedly insulted
Tarkona in conversation, Raaba had

  taken offense and departed from Kuar.

  Now Lowie feared his long-lost Wookiee friend might not come back--at

  least not anytime soon.

  But he still held out hope.

  From his perch in the trees he perked up again as he saw another flaming

  streak cross the sky. The burning white line sliced the night.

  But it was just another shooting star.

  He sighed again and settled back to wait. It would be a long night.

  The next morning, his body aching from his long vigil, Lowie went to the

  comm center and requested permission to send a message to his family.

  The request was quickly granted. All Jedi trainees had the freedom to

  communicate home whenever they wished.

  While Lowie secured a transmission link back to

  Kashyyyk, he checked the chronometers on the wall and calculated the

  time shift, hoping he wouldn't wake his family in the middle of the

  night. He saw that it was early morning back on the forest world; both

  of his parents would be at work in the high-tech computer fabrication

  facility.

  Lowie's sister Sirra answered the call; her image glowed brightly before

  him. She stood back in surprise, opening her mouth in a wide grin as

  she recognized her brother. Thanks to her radical trimming and cutting,

  Sirra's fur stood up in bristly shocks. She shaved it in various

  patterns at the wrists, ankles, knees, and elbows to give herself a

  distinctive look, an individuality that many younger Wookiees preferred.

  They each designed their own fur patterns, trying to establish a new

  identity for the youth of their species in this time of prosperity after

  years of Imperial oppression.

  No one else in the comm center had any idea what the two barking,

  growling Wookiees were saying to each other, so Lowie did not worry

  about eavesdroppers. He had wanted to let Raaba keep her secret, give

  her time to deliver the news herself, but he needed to talk to

  someone--someone who understood.

  Warning Sirra to keep his words in strictest confidence, he told her he

  had good news and bad news. Lowie stumbled around at first, unsure of

  how to begin. Finally, he blurted out that Raaba

  was alive, then breathlessly summarized how the chocolate-furred Wookiee

  had shown up on Kuar.

  Sirra was overjoyed to hear the news and voiced a yelp of ecstatic

  surprise. She followed with several minutes of joyous questions and

  demands for details, interspersed with low crooning and cries of

  delight.

  When Lowie explained how Raaba had vanished again, though, Sirra gave a

  concerned growl. But even that sad note was not enough to diminish her

  joy at learning that Raaba still lived.

  Lowie's own thoughts remained in turmoil. No matter how often he

  contemplated Raaba, he still couldn't make up his mind how he really

  felt about her, what he hoped might happen between them, or what he

  expected her to do.

  After leaving appropriate greetings for his parents, Lowie signed off.

  He shuffled down winding stone corridors on the way back to his

  quarters.

  With a long, throaty sigh, Lowie picked up the translating droid and

  switched it on, finally ready to face the day's training activities.

  Em Teedee bubbled happily. "Ah, Master Low-bacca, good morning to you!

  I must say, I feel thoroughly recharged. How utterly restful it is when

  we're not out having dangerous adventures."

  With a click, Lowie attached the little droid to the glossy fibers of

  his belt.

  "I trust you slept well yourself, Master Low-bacca?"

  the droid asked.

  Lowie gave a noncommittal grunt, which Em Teedee took as a yes.

  INSIDE THE BUSTLING, hollow asteroid of Borgo Prime, signs along the

  walkway fluoresced and flickered, leading Zekk back to Shanko's Hive.

  The dark-haired young man had received his first bounty assignment

  inside that popular cantina--and he had come back empty-handed.

  Zekk rehearsed various explanations. The blue-skinned bartender,

  Droq'l, had hired him to find a scavenger and his cargo, but Fonterrat,

  the missing scavenger, was dead and his cargo of precious ronik shells

  destroyed. He had no idea how his employer would react to the bad news.

  How would Boba Fett have handled this situation?

  Zekk asked himself. Fett, one of the most respected (and feared) bounty

  hunters in the galaxy, would waste no energy on lengthy explanations or

  excuses. Fett would come straight to the point. Zekk decided he would

  have to do the same.

  Tossing his ponytail over his shoulder, Zekk stopped before the entrance

  to an enormous cone-shaped building with horizontal ridges like smooth

  circular waves up its sides. He took a brief moment to perform a Jedi

  relaxation technique, something Master Skywalker had taught him--not

  Brakiss of the Shadow Academy.

  Then, projecting all of the confidence a professional bounty hunter

  ought to feel, Zekk strode into Shanko's Hive.

  Air clouded with exotic scents and flavors enveloped him in a pale gray

  haze. Though the interior of the hive cantina had no flat edges, the

  contrasting islands of sound and silence, of light and dimness, gave the

  illusion of dozens of shadowy corners. A quick glance at the bar told

  Zekk that the insectoid proprietor Shanko had emerged from hibernation

  and was in no mood to humor fools.

  Brief, confident, professional, Zekk reminded himself. His steps did

  not falter as he walked toward the bar and tossed a credit chit on it.

  "Osskorn Stout," he said without preamble. "I have business with your

  bartender."

  Dark, foamy ale sloshed onto the counter from the flagon Shanko thunked

  down in front of him. As Zekk scooped up the tankard to take a gulp,

  one of Shanko's many glossy arms roughly swept out to mop up the spill

  while another gave an abrupt jerk, indicating an area to Zekk's right.

  Still drinking thirstily, he looked over to see Droq'l in conversation

  with a patron who stood just outside the circle of light cast by the

  bar's globe-lamps.

  Zekk nodded his thanks, and with renewed confidence strode toward the

  three-armed bartender.

  As if he had an extra eye in the back of his head--which he did, Zekk

  now recalled--Droq'l turned just as the young bounty hunter approached,

  tankard in hand.

  "Did you find what I sent you for?" the bartender asked, his blue face

  eager.

  "Fonterrat is dead. On Gammalin."

  Droq'l grimaced, showing his shiny black teeth.

  "Gammalin, huh?"

  Zekk shrugged. "Fonterrat accidently exposed the colony to a plaque. He

  was imprisoned after the plague hit. The frightened colonists destroyed

  his ship and burned his cargo, but the sickness swept through the colony

  anyway. It killed every human."

  "And Fonterrat wasn't human," the bartender mused, "so he starved alone

  in prison after those colonists ruined my shipment of shells." A glint

  of pleasure replaced the disappointment in his eyes.

  "At least it was a slow, lingering death."

  Zekk nodded warily. He reached into his v
est pocket and produced the

  holocube that contained the scavenger's final message.

  Droq'l watched the entire holomessage, sighed, and spread all three

  hands in a gesture of resigned

  acceptance. "Just as well. I might've been tempted to terminate

  Fonterrat myself for his incompetence."

  Then, to Zekk's pleasant surprise, the bartender paid him in full.

  "Glad to see a young trainee with some presence of mind," he said.

  "You finished what I sent you to do, and you had the good sense to bring

  back proof of it. That's more than I could say for some bounty hunters

  two or three times your age."

  A thoughtful look crept over the bartender's blue-skinned face, and he

  drummed the fingers of two hands on the bartop. "Come to think of it, I

  may have another job for you, if you're interested. Got a client who's

  looking for a bounty hunter. Wants someone resourceful and

  trustworthy--but unknown.

  That might just be you."

  "You seem to be a good enough judge of character," Zekk said, crossing