“I think it will, Mid Captain,” Thrawn said, his voice grim. “Unfortunately.”
CHAPTER FOUR
It had been a bad morning, Councilor Xodlak’uvi’vil groused silently to himself as he trudged up the three steps to the White Judgment Seat of Redhill Hall. It was an impressive title, he had to admit, for what was basically just a big chair in a big room. The chair lived up to the title, what with all the white marble and gold filigree and inset glitterstones.
But the seat and the title were just a fancy-dream way of saying this was where the local family head listened to the requests, demands, and teary-eyed slobberings of the people of Redhill province, here on the economically valuable but politically insignificant Ascendancy world of Celwis.
Lakuviv had no idea which of his predecessors had dreamed up this affront to any sense of proportion. Certainly Patriel Lakooni, who looked after Xodlak family interests for all of Celwis from a quarter of the way across the planet in Brickwalk, didn’t have anything nearly this pretentious from which to hear her cases.
But then, Lakooni could afford to be casual. She was blood, with no need to prove herself to the Patriarch or anyone else in the family. She would move to a more prestigious post whenever the family saw fit, perhaps becoming Patriel of one of the more important worlds, perhaps becoming a syndic or even Speaker in the Syndicure. If she was very talented, or made enough friends and allies, she might even rise someday to the Patriarchy itself.
Her life and future were secure. It was local Councilors like Lakuviv who needed to scramble for every bit of notice and contact and good impression they could get, in the hope of catching someone’s eye and being lifted from ranking distants to cousins. If and when that happened to Lakuviv his future, too, would be assured.
But that was a far-distant hope. For now, he would do his job: listening to complaints, dealing out justice, and working with the other families’ Councilors toward the common goal of making Celwis a shining example of what a Chiss world should be.
After all, what was good for the Ascendancy was also good for the families. And, Lakuviv hoped, for him personally.
The first five cases on the day’s roster were a typical mix: family squabbles that fell outside criminal court jurisdiction but were too high-end for local arbiters to deal with. Three of them were fairly straightforward, though the other two were a bit knotty. But Lakuviv had had plenty of experience at this sort of thing and sorted them out without too much trouble.
Not that everyone was happy with his decisions. But that was the nature of negotiation. Still, he was the Xodlak Councilor, with the family firmly behind him, and they all left the Judgment Seat quietly and in good order. If any of them truly felt they’d been unfairly treated, they could always appeal to the Patriel.
And then came the sixth case.
It was instantly apparent that this wasn’t going to be like any of those that had gone before, or really like anything Lakuviv had ever dealt with.
Four people entered the chamber, passing between the two ceremonial guards flanking the door. Three of them were aliens of a sort Lakuviv had never seen before: two of them about Chiss height with one slightly shorter than the other, the third about two-thirds the others’ height. An adult male, an adult female, and a child or midager, he tentatively identified them. Probably from the alien ship that had put down yesterday at the Brickwalk landing field, he guessed, though the Patriel’s preliminary report hadn’t given any details aside from the simple fact of their arrival.
More important, the report hadn’t said anything about them leaving Brickwalk and coming to Redhill. Perhaps the fourth member of the group was about to expound on that.
Lakuviv focused on him. He was a young Chiss, possibly a late midager, certainly no more than twenty years old. The cut and patterns of his clothing weren’t familiar—they weren’t any Xodlak style he’d seen—but the outfit had the air of stateliness and expense. He was talking softly to the aliens as they all approached the Judgment Seat. A guide or escort, maybe?
A third guard stepped into the chamber behind them and took up a watchful position beside the other two guards. Lakuviv sent him a questioning look, was answered with a small nod. So the standard weapons check had come up empty. They wouldn’t have been allowed in with anything like that, of course, but the simple fact that they hadn’t had any weapons for the guards to take away said something about them.
Lakuviv took another look at the aliens. Their facial skin was a mess of dark red and off-white folds, the mix of the two colors seemingly at random. The pattern was also slightly different on all three, perhaps how the species distinguished among themselves. Their mouths were lipless slits tucked away amid all the folds. Their eyes were black and yet, somehow, bright and clear. All three wore wraparound robes: dark red for the tallest alien, dark blue for the other two, all three robes with patterns of silver woven into the cloth.
Three paces from the Judgment Seat, the young Chiss motioned the aliens to stop. He himself took one more pace forward and bowed to Lakuviv. “Greetings and honor to you, Councilor Xodlak’uvi’vil,” he said. “I am Coduyo’po’nekri, here as a visitor to your world and province.”
“Welcome, Yoponek,” Lakuviv said, eyeing the youth with new interest. The Coduyo, like the Xodlak, were one of the Forty Great Families, the second tier of Ascendancy power, poised just behind the Nine Ruling Families. Whoever these aliens were, getting Yoponek to speak for them had at least guaranteed themselves Lakuviv’s full attention. “May I ask why you’ve come to Redhill instead of one of the Coduyo family lands on Celwis?”
“I’m currently on a wandering year, Councilor Lakuviv,” Yoponek said. “I’m traveling the Ascendancy, seeking knowledge and experience outside the classroom walls.”
“Ah,” Lakuviv said, nodding. Wandering years were a staple of some families: a gap year after basic schooling when a young person could travel and learn, meditate and self-examine, before returning to advanced schooling or other job training.
Proponents of the program claimed it helped young people better decide their goals and talents in order to avoid false starts in future studies. Critics saw it as a waste of parental money, with little evidence that it did anything but allow the midager to wallow in an extended period of self-indulgent laziness. Cynics said its true purpose was to get them out from underfoot during what was traditionally the most pompous and condescending time in their lives.
“During my travels I was fortunate enough to meet Haplif, his wife Shimkif, and their daughter Frosif,” Yoponek continued, gesturing to the three aliens in turn. “I’ve learned a great deal while traveling with them. We arrived on Celwis yesterday, and they’ve come here today to ask a favor of you and the Xodlak family.”
“Have they, now,” Lakuviv said, shifting his attention to the taller alien.
“They have,” Yoponek said. “They themselves are—”
“Do you do all their speaking for them?” Lakuviv interrupted.
“—cultural nomads who—” Yoponek broke off. “What?”
“If they want a favor, they must ask for it themselves,” Lakuviv said. “You—Haplif—do you speak Cheunh?”
“He wants you to talk to him,” Yoponek said to the aliens, switching to the Minnisiat trade language.
Haplif bowed his head low to Yoponek. He took a step forward to stand beside the midager and bowed again, this time to Lakuviv. “I greet you, Councilor Xodlak’uvi’vil of the family Xodlak,” he said, his voice surprisingly melodious, the trade language words coming out with more clarity than Lakuviv had expected from such an undeveloped mouth slit. “As our honored companion said, our group of Agbui are cultural nomads. For thirty years and more we have traveled the Chaos—”