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“My friends,” Nadon whispered. “Our enemy Captain Alima is coming. I do not know how to admit this, but I wish to kill him.”

The bark hummed under his touch, and a pure and holy feeling enervated him, as if light entered his every pore. The soothing mind-touch of the sentient trees nearly overwhelmed him with its beauty, but the trees were displeased by his confession. Above him, the black leaves trembled, hissing the words, “Noooo. We forbid it.”

“He slew the Bafforr of Cathor Hills,” Nadon said. “He is a murderer. And he killed your brothers so that he could gain greater prestige among evil men. His every intent was impure.”

“You are a priest of Ithor,” the woods whispered. “You have vowed to honor the Law of Life. You cannot slay him.”

“But he killed your kin,” Nadon reasoned. He did not know if the Bafforr understood him. Each tree in itself had limited intelligence, but through their intertwining roots they were connected and thus formed a group intelligence. A large forest grew wiser in lore than any other being, but these few trees were not a great forest. Still, Nadon had not come for their counsel, only for their permission.

“Our kin would have died in time,” the Bafforr reasoned. “Alima only hurried their end.”

“Just as I wish to hurry Alima’s end,” Nadon said.

“You are not like Alima.” The trees sharpened the focus of their mind-touch, and Nadon gasped at the beauty he felt as rivers of light cascaded through him. The profound peace that settled in his bones was meant both as a reward and a warning. While he basked in the glow, he dreaded the moment when he would have to leave the sacred grove and return to the mundane world. “If you break the Law of Life,” the Bafforr said, “we will no longer be able to tolerate your touch.”

“I would not kill him myself,” Momaw Nadon pleaded. “I would command the vesuvague tree to strangle him, or I would have the alleth consume him or the arool poison him.”

“All of these are lower life forms than us,” the Bafforr said, “and they respond to your command as if they were common weapons. But once again, we warn you, you cannot break the Law of Life.”

The mind-touch of the Bafforr withdrew abruptly, and Nadon choked out a sob as he was suddenly excluded from the group mind. He fell to his face and began to weep.

“Fancy meeting you here,” an unfamiliar voice said. Momaw Nadon turned.

Beneath a glow globe that shone like a moon stood an aging human in an Imperial uniform. Emerald-winged moths fluttered about the globe, and for a moment the human eyed their bright green wings.

Alima’s face was fatter than when Nadon had last seen him, and his voice had grown hoarser with age. His cheeks had sagged and his hair was graying, but Nadon recognized him. He would have recognized that face anywhere. “I see you are still a priest, crying over your sacred trees,” Alima said. He waved a blaster toward the grove.

“And I see that you are still a servant of evil,” Nadon said, “though somewhat fallen in rank.”

Alima chuckled. “Believe me, my old friend,” he countered, “my fall from grace was carefully orchestrated. Only a fool would want to be captain of Lord Vader’s flagship: The mortality rate is phenomenal. Still, Vader finds uses for me even as a lowly lieutenant—which is why I’m here. So, tell me—enemy of the Empire—where the droids are. I paid good money to learn the name of one who was said to be harboring them.”

“Then you wasted your money,” Nadon retorted, hoping that Muftak had extorted plenty. “I don’t know the location of any droid.”

“But you are an enemy of the Empire, serving the Rebellion,” Alima whispered dangerously. “I’m sure of it!”

“I know nothing about any droids,” Nadon answered softly. He checked Alima’s location. The warrior stood close to an arool cactus. Nadon could command it to strike, but in order to get within range of its stinging spines, Alima would have to move a couple of steps farther down the path.

Nadon got up from the forest floor, stepped onto the path, and backed away from Alima,