Free The Ruins of Dantooine by Voronica Whitney-Robinson Page A

obviously in pain, and she wondered how she could have come to doubt him.
    Whether it was the onset of shame or the fact that she just wanted to be honest with him, Dusque blurted out, “Are you an Imperial bioengineer?”
    The Ithorian turned off his device, stopped surveying, and stood up. He had a perplexed look on his face, as though he was trying to figure out thejoke in her absurd question. “You know what I am,” he told her. “Why do you ask?”
    The pile of rocks she had been surveying was abandoned. She lowered her pack to the ground and sat down with her back against it. The cold stones felt good on her shoulders. She motioned to Tendau with her hand, inviting him to sit with her.
    As soon as the Ithorian had lowered his large frame to the ground, he asked her, “Is this about last night?”
    Dusque smiled ruefully. “Right to the heart of it, as usual. Am I so transparent?”
    “Child,” Tendau started, “it’s not because you are transparent that I know you, but because you are honest. And last night, you were not yourself. Something or some
one
frightened you. It pained me,” he continued, laying a hand against his chest, “to see you so far removed from yourself. Will you tell me what has happened to cause you to question?”
    Dusque turned away, once again consumed by doubt laced with fear. It was this unnamed fear that had changed everything for her. She shifted onto her knees and started to rummage through her pack. “If we’re going to be here a while,” she explained, “we might as well be comfortable.” She found her small tool kit and in a matter of moments had a tiny but cheery fire burning. The damp was starting to seep into her bones and she knew that if she felt uncomfortable, the Ithorian felt worse, no matter how stoic he remained about it.
    “As usual, you are a wonderful observer. Something did happen last night,” she said and then faltered.
    “Do you want to share this with me right now,” he offered, “or would you rather we not speak of it?” Dusque knew he had made the offer because he sensed her unease. And with that simple act of kindness, she knew in her heart that if there was anyone she could or should trust, it was he.
    “Thank you for that,” she replied and he smiled at her, giving her the time she needed. “Does it ever bother you,” she began, “to do the things we do?”
    “Is that why you asked if I was an Imperial engineer?” he asked. Dusque nodded. The Ithorian stared into the fire a moment before he responded. “It is something I wrestle with,” he admitted.
    “I wanted so much,” he went on, “to see all of Mother Jungle in her many incarnations. That need drove me from my herd ship to pursue the stars. And in the course of that pursuit, I was ‘recruited,’ if you will, into Imperial service.
    “At the beginning,” he added, “it did not seem so bad.”
    Dusque nodded in understanding. “And now?”
    It was Tendau’s turn to sigh. “And now, it is different.”
    “Why now?” Dusque asked, hoping that his answers would somehow guide her.
    “I thought,” he admitted, “that the Empire would leave us alone. And I believed that nature should be allowed to take its course. But after the Battle ofYavin, we were no longer uninvolved. The Empire decided to leave a garrison stationed on Ithor. Like so many other worlds, the Empire had implanted themselves like a blight on us. It was then that my eyes were opened.” He stopped and looked into the small fire and did not continue for several long moments.
    “I believe in the Mother Jungle,” he said eventually, “and disease is a part of her mystery. By design, it serves a purpose, as do famine and competition for territory. All of these things are unpleasant for some to observe, but a single part in a larger cycle. But when one starts to tamper with nature, the disease that should be checked runs rampant instead. I believe the Empire places the galaxy out of equilibrium. It is the