Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 04_ Agents of Chaos 01_ Hero's Trial - James Luceno [10]
[As you would have died for them,] Attichitcuk rumbled, nearly showing his fangs. [A life debt is just that.]
Malla, too, was glowering at Han. [You would not defame Chewbacca’s memory by refusing to allow his debt to be honored.]
Jaina swallowed audibly. “Dad doesn’t mean any dishonor.” She glanced at her father. “Right, Dad?”
Han stared at her, mouth still ajar. Malla’s vibrato growl had summoned a memory of a day following the wedding when Han had tried to persuade Chewie into remaining behind with his bride rather than accompanying him back to Nar Shaddaa. He thought, too, of Groznik, a Wookiee who had attached himself to the Rogue Squadron pilot Elscol Loro, wife of a man named Throm to whom Groznik was life-debted.
“Right, right,” he said at last, looking from Jaina to Malla. “I’d cut off my arm before I’d dishonor Chewie’s memory in any way. You know that. It’s just that …”
Everyone waited.
“It’s just that I’m not ready.” He shook his head as if to clear it, then looked up at Attichitcuk and the others. “Chewie’s still alive for me. I can’t just allow him to be … replaced. You’ve gotta understand that. He was more than a protector. He was my closest friend.”
The Wookiees exchanged sympathetic looks and indecipherable brays.
[He clings to his memory of my husband,] Malla remarked sadly.
[He needs time,] Attichitcuk growled, somehow without making it sound menacing.
“That’s it,” Han said, grasping at straws. “I just need time.”
After what seemed an eternity, Chewbacca’s father nodded his huge head. [Then time we’ll grant you. The life debt involves more than simply providing shelter from bodily harm. It succors the spirit, as well.]
Han saw the truth of it. “I want that to go on.”
Malla put her huge paws on his shoulders. [Then it shall.]
THREE
Holographic images of star systems and entire galactic sectors pirouetted in a blue-gray shaft of projected light. Flashing overlays showed hyperspace lanes that linked far-flung regions of space. The pressure of a fingertip against a touch screen was sufficient to conjure information on individual worlds, stars, or lightspeed routes. Dots of artificial light expanded to reveal data on native species and cultures, planetary topography, population statistics, and in some cases defense capabilities.
“It disheartens me to have to subject you to inert technology, Eminence,” Commander Tla’s tactician apologized, “but we have yet to discover a way to separate the data from the metallic shells that sustain them. And until our villips have had a chance to absorb the captured information, we have no choice but to make do with some of the enemy’s own machines. Each has been cleansed and purified, but I’m afraid there is simply no disguising their vacuity of spirit.”
Though repulsed by the devices that had been conveyed to him, Harrar granted the tactician absolution. “To abhor a thing in ignorance is to fear it. A deeper understanding of machine nature will only firm my resolve to see machines exterminated.” He waved his abbreviated hand. “Proceed.”
The tactician, Raff, inclined his tattooed head in a bow, then raised a bony, gloved hand to the animated hologram. “As you can see, Eminence, we have here nothing less than a portrait of the galaxy. In broad strokes to be sure, and yet detailed enough to aid us in our push toward the Core.”
His protected forefinger made contact with the touch screen, and a representation of the Obroa-skai and neighboring star systems took shape in the cone of light.
Scrawniness wasn’t confined to the tactician’s hands. Rail-thin wrists poked from the voluminous sleeves of his robe, and a spindly neck protruded like a baton from the robe’s high and equally spacious collar. Pledged in service to Yun-Yammka, the god of war, Raff had a mouth that was a black-stained maw, featuring an outsize tooth that sometimes wreaked havoc with