Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [38]
“In the Regulan system,” Han interrupted, “out near Dubrava.”
“Dubrava?” Kyp asked, turning in his chair. “I didn’t know there was anything near Dubrava.”
“Barab One is near Dubrava.” Saba’s dark eyes fell on Kyp and remained there, as though she considered anyone who did not know the galactography of her home sector a potential meal. “It is in the Albanin sector, along with Hidden Tegoor, Blaudu Octus, and, of course, Blaudu Sextus.”
“Oh, that Blaudu Sextus,” Kyp said, nodding as though he had merely needed reminding. “Of course.”
Saba sissed at him, then directed her attention to the circle in general. “Blaudu Sextus invites slave labor from Blaudu Octus.” She turned back toward the Solos. “Is it the Octusi on the march?”
“You guessed it,” Han said.
Han pressed a sensor on the console, and a hologram appeared over the projection pad in the center of the speaking circle. The image depicted a line of centauriform aliens, with an Ithorian-like torso and head rising from the forequarters of a shaggy, barrel-chested nerf. They were marching single-file through a warren of cut-stone buildings, carrying sloppily rendered placards that depicted broken shackles and manacles. Although they were moving at a fast trot and filling the air with a high-pitched keening that would have been painful to hear in person, the marchers appeared eager to avoid causing property damage, remaining in a narrow line to avoid trampling the airspeeders parked in front of the buildings. In the foreground of the hologram appeared the impish figure of Madhi Vaandt, a doll-faced Devaronian female with pointed ears, narrow bright eyes, and white hair almost as wildly kept as Octusi fur.
“… can see, the Octusi are a gentle species. Even when they choose to throw off the shackles of slavery, they show the utmost concern for the safety and property of others,” Vaandt was saying. The scene shifted to a poorly lit spaceport in the dead of night, where a trio of huge Mandal-Motors troop transports sat almost invisible in a darkened corner of the landing field. “So why, then, was this the scene last night, at an industrial spaceport just twenty kilometers away?”
The scene assumed the greenish blue tint generated by a light-gathering lens. Several hundred Mandalorian commandos appeared, debarking the transports in assault sleds, in hovertanks, and on foot. Kenth’s stomach immediately grew hollow and queasy, and even before he could grudgingly ask Leia for a report, Saba was on her feet, her scales bristling and her fangs bared.
“Chief Daala goes too far!” A loud crash sounded behind her as her heavy tail slammed into her chair and sent it toppling to the floor. Betraying no sign she had even noticed, Saba continued, “The Octusi are no threat to the Blaudunz. Octusi never fight … not even to save their own lives!”
“Perhaps you should give us a background report on these cultures, Master Sebatyne,” Kenth suggested. Glad for an excuse to close the holofeed before the other Masters grew outraged as well, he signaled Han to kill it. “Maybe it will help us understand Chief Daala’s thinking.”
“What’s to understand?” Han asked. “Daala sees defiance, Daala crushes defiance. It’s the same strategy she learned sitting on Tarkin’s lap.”
Despite the sarcasm, Han deactivated the hologram, and Saba became the sole focus in the circle. The Barabel took a moment to collect her thoughts, flicking her tongue between her pebbly lips, then raised her gaze to address her fellow Masters.
“The Octusi are the natives of the Blaudu system,” she began. “They are a simple-minded species, and most Blaudunz—the colonizers of Blaudu Sextus—do not accept that they are truly sentient.”
“Are they?” asked Ramis.
Saba spread her hands. “That is for Master Cilghal to say, not this one,” she replied. “The Octusi speak and understand nearly a hundred wordz, but they do not read or write, and they have no concept of time beyond now,