Survivor's Quest

She broke off as a raucous trilling tone suddenly sliced like a vibroblade through the lounge. "Alert T-Seven!" a Chiss voice snapped over the speakers. "Arc twelve-two. Repeat: Alert T-Seven; arc twelve-two."

The nearest comm panel was at the far end of the next couch over. Luke got there first. "This is Master Skywalker," he said. "What's going on?"

"This does not concern you—"

"This is Aristocra Formbi, Master Skywalker," Formbi's voice cut into the circuit. "Please come to the Geroon vessel as quickly as possible."

"On our way," Luke promised. "What's happened."

There was a hint of a sigh from the speaker. "One of the Geroons has been shot."

There were a dozen Chiss swarming about the corridor outside the Geroon shuttle when Luke and Mara arrived. Two of them, Feesa and someone in Defense Fleet black, were kneeling beside the writhing and moaning figure of a Geroon, working on him with one of the ship's medpacs. Formbi, looking grim, was standing off to the side where he'd be out of the way. "What happened?" Luke asked as they were passed through the outer circle of Chiss.

"He was shot with a charric as he left his vessel," Formbi told them. "Upper back, left side. We're searching for the weapon now."

Luke stepped around Feesa and looked down, his heart sinking inside him as he got a look at the victim's face. It was Estosh, the youngest of the Geroons, his features twisted in pain at the charred and blackened skin across his left shoulder.

"You are a Jedi," Formbi went on. "I'm told Jedi have healing powers."

"Some of us do," Luke said, kneeling beside Estosh and studying the injured area. Behind him, he could feel Mara's sympathetic pain as she gazed down at the wound. She'd been shot with a Chiss charric once herself and knew exactly how it felt. "Unfortunately, neither of us has any special skills in that area."

"Is there nothing you can do?" Feesa asked.

Luke pursed his lips, trying to think. With himself or another Jedi, a healing trance would be the obvious answer. He might even be willing to risk it with Fel or one of the human stormtroopers, if the victim had been one of them.

But with an alien, especially one with unknown physiology and a mental and emotional structure he was unfamiliar with, it would be far too dangerous unless there was no other choice. "Can you tell me how bad it is?" he asked Feesa. "Is it life threatening, or only very painful?"

"It is certainly painful," Feesa said stiffly. "I do not know the rest. What does it matter?"

"It matters a great deal," Luke told her, looking around the corridor. The rest of the Geroons, he noted with surprise, were nowhere to be seen. "Where are Bearsh and the others?"

"Inside their vessel," Formbi said. "They say they are afraid for their lives."

Luke grimaced. But he supposed he couldn't really blame them. "Someone go tell them to get out here," he said. "Tell them there's nothing to be afraid of."

"They will not come," one of the Chiss said contemptuously. "They fear now that the whole of the Chiss Ascendancy stands against them." He made a clicking sound in the back of his throat. "They are an easily terrified species."

"They can be terrified on their own time," Luke told him shortly. "Right now, I need someone to tell me how bad this is."

"I'll go," Mara volunteered, crossing toward the entryway room. "If they don't trust the Chiss, maybe they'll trust a human."

Whatever it was she said to them, it obviously worked. Two minutes later Bearsh and the others emerged hesitantly from the transfer tu

"It is terrible," Bearsh moaned as he sidled nervously past the Chiss to Estosh's side. "How could someone do this to him?"

"We hope to learn that soon," Formbi said. "In the meantime, Master Skywalker needs to know if his injuries are life threatening."

Bearsh knelt down gingerly, his fingers probing the edges of the burned skin. Estosh tensed, but said nothing. "No," Bearsh said after a moment. "But he is in great pain."

"I know," Luke said reluctantly. "But I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for that. Jedi healing powers can be dangerous to use. I can't risk it if he'll most likely heal by himself."

"Of course not," Bearsh said, his voice sounding bitter. "He is only a Geroon, after all."

"I meant it would be dangerous for him," Luke said, trying hard not to be irritated. None of this was his fault, after all. "About all I can do is help you get him inside."

"That would be most kind," Bearsh murmured, his flash of bitterness subsiding. "Thank you."

"No problem." Luke stretched out to the Force, reaching for a mental grip on Estosh—

"That won't be necessary," Formbi said suddenly before he could begin lifting. "A medical litter is on its way. My people will take him inside."

Bearsh stood up. "We would prefer the human's help," he said stiffly. "We would prefer the Chiss not enter our spacecraft again."

"You don't have a choice," Formbi said flatly. "The Chaf Envoy is a vessel of the Fifth Family of the Chiss Ascendancy. As travelers within that vessel, you come under Chiss law and custom. If we choose to enter your vessel, we will do so."

For a long moment the two aliens stood facing each other in silence, Bearsh looking ridiculously small and fragile in front of the tall, regal Chiss. Then, with a sigh, Bearsh's shoulders seemed to sag. "Of course," he murmured, turning away. "As you wish."

Luke stirred, starting to take a step forward. Formbi was being completely unreasonable—

No.

He stopped in midthought and midstep as Mara's urgent warning flowed into his mind. He looked back around at her, caught the similarly warning look in her eyes.

His intended protest died away unsaid. It was Formbi's ship, after all. If the Aristocra wanted to make that point obvious to everyone present, it wasn't Luke's place to argue with him.

From down the corridor came two Chiss guiding a floating medical cart between them. Luke looked at Mara again, caught the fractional tilt of her head, and stepped away from the injured Geroon to give them room. A minute later, they had Estosh on the litter and were moving him inside. The rest of the Geroons walked beside them in stony silence.

"That's all, then," Formbi said, turning his glowing eyes on Luke and Mara as the party disappeared down the transfer tu

With a supreme effort, Luke merely nodded. "You're welcome," he said. "I don't suppose Estosh saw who shot him?"

Formbi shook his head. "He told Feesa the shooter fired as he entered the corridor. He wasn't even certain where the shot came from. We're searching for the weapon now."

"I see," Luke said. "Please let us know if you find it."

"Of course," Formbi said. "Good night."

"They won't find anything," he muttered to Mara as they threaded their way through the milling Chiss and headed toward their quarters. "Ten to one it's back in its rack or holster or wherever it was taken from."

"You think that's what our friend last night was looking for?" Mara asked. "A weapon?"

"Maybe, only he didn't take it then," Luke said. "If he had, the search parties today would have noticed it was missing. No, all he wanted yesterday was to find where a weapon was conveniently located so that he could grab it tonight, shoot the first Geroon who came out of their shuttle, then put it back before it could be missed."

"But why shoot a Geroon, of all people?"

"I don't know," Luke said in disgust. "Maybe someone wants to drive a wedge between them and the Chiss. Or maybe just between them and Formbi. Someone who doesn't want to see them get a world of their own."