Star Wars_ X-Wing 03_ The Krytos Trap - Michael A. Stackpole [92]
Wedge smiled at Cazne’olan. “Convey to her my profound appreciation of her offer, and my sincere regret at having to refuse. Ultimately I am here as a representative of the Alliance. Perhaps some time when I am merely here as myself.…”
“She will understand, I think.”
“I hope so.” Wedge frowned for a moment. “I have a question to ask you about something you said a moment ago.”
A lek twitched. “Ask.”
“You pronounce my name as Wedgan’tilles and Nawara Ven’s name as Nawar’aven, running them together. When you mentioned Bib Fortuna, you distinctly broke his name up. Why?”
Cazne’olan nodded slowly and let his lekku slip from Wedge’s shoulder. “Bib Fortuna was a member of the Una clan. Because of his predations on his own people, he was cast out. The joining of personal and clan names is, among us, a sign of belonging. Breaking the names apart is a statement of the distance between that person and his people.”
Wedge nodded. “How do you decide what a name will become? Nawara is a member of the Ven clan, but you make his surname into ‘aven’ when you pronounce it.”
“And I know your surname is Antilles, but I break it in two.”
“Exactly.”
The Twi’lek laughed lightly. “Naming conventions are determined by a venerable set of rules—superstitions almost—that transform names into auspicious omens. Ven, for example, translates into Basic as ‘silver.’ Nawara would translate roughly as ‘speaker’ or ‘tongue,’ either of which suggests a gifted negotiator. However, if his name were pronounced as Nawara’ven, because of peculiarities in Rylothean, his name would mean ‘tarnished silver.’ By changing the pronunciation slightly we retain the correct meaning.”
“I’m impressed.” Wedge smiled openly. “So, what does my name mean, the way you pronounce it?”
The Twi’lek shrugged. “There is no good, direct translation of foreign names, but Wedgan’tilles comes close to ‘slayer of stars.’ ”
“I like it.”
“It is much to be preferred to the alternative suggested by the Basic pronunciation.”
“Which is?”
“Difficult to translate.”
“Give me a rough go at it.”
Cazne’olan’s braintails twitched sharply. “Being generous, it is ‘One so foul he could induce vomiting in a rancor.’ ”
Wedge shuddered. “I prefer your pronunciation, I think.”
A gentle vibration running through the ground forestalled further lessons about Twi’lek culture. He assumed the vibration was produced by the raising of the portcullis, so he looked off toward where the tunnel entered the Kala’uun cavern. Boiling up out of it, in three pairs, came a half-dozen Uglies. The X-wing fighter’s distinctive S-foils jutted out from the sides of a TIE fighter’s ball cockpit. The stabilizers had been fastened to a collar that surrounded the cockpit, and as the fighters maneuvered and cavorted in the air above the assembly, he saw the S-foils rotating around the cockpit, making the design similar in principle to that of the B-wing fighter in service with the Alliance.
Never seen those before. Must be a homegrown Twi’lek design. The S-foils collapsed into a single wing on either side of the cockpit, then landing skids extended from the bottom of the collar and the peculiar ships descended. They landed in a rough semicircle facing the Alliance ships, easily menacing all the visitors.
One of the cockpit hatches opened and a huge Twi’lek pilot emerged from the top of the sphere. He wore a black Imperial flight suit, but a scarlet loincloth and cloak had been added to make it seem closer to native warrior attire. His lekku had been tattooed with a variety of sinuous and serpentine shapes which Wedge supposed were Rylothean glyphs, but he could not even guess at their significance.
As the warrior strode over to the circle, the music died and the servants shrank back. Sienn’rha stopped her dance and retreated into Wedge