Star Wars: Inquisitor: Rise of the Red Blade by Delilah S. Dawson

Author:Delilah S. Dawson [Dawson, Delilah S.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2023-07-18T00:00:00+00:00

/24.

GINNTHO’S DECEPTIVELY SLEEPY, LONG-LASHED EYES blinked. “A Pkorian. That’s where you’re from, isn’t it? Pkori?”

The tiny slicer now had Iskat’s total attention. Tualon could’ve been vaporized right beside her and she wouldn’t even have noticed.

“I don’t know where I’m from. I was given to the Jedi as a baby. There is no record of my home planet or species, and I’ve never seen anyone else like me.”

Ginntho nodded vigorously. “Pkori is a planet in Wild Space.” She tapped her whiskery head. “When I was a much younger being, I was a xenoanthropologist. Specialized in studying the cultures of uncontacted planets. They’re clannish on Pkori, haven’t achieved spaceflight and don’t want to, so when a ship shows up, it’s a big deal.”

“How’d you find it?” Iskat asked. “It’s not listed in the Jedi Archives.”

“Oh, xenoanthropologists talk.” Ginntho laughed, a deep belly laugh. “I asked an old professor about the most unusual cultures she’d visited, and they made the list, so I had to go see them for myself. Fascinating people! Most folk at least want the option of spaceflight, but the Pkorians would probably put a cage around their planet if they could. No ports, no comms, no electricity. Don’t speak Basic and don’t have a reason to. They only allowed my professor to land because she was Devaronian and they felt some kinship with her, and they only allowed me there because they thought I was a baby. So you’ve never been home to visit, eh?”

Iskat looked away. “The Jedi Temple is the only home I’ve ever known.”

“Eh, probably not missing much, unless you really love tea and the scent of wet cochukka wool. Quiet, slow place. Not even enough resources to tempt the Commerce Guild. No tech at all. Back then, I was endlessly curious. Now I’d just get bored. It’ll be good to be in a modern place again, I suppose.”

“How’d you get into slicing?” Tualon asked. “It seems a broad leap, from anthropology to scramble keys.”

Ginntho got a faraway look in her eyes. “I’ve been many things, but I get bored easily. Started with xenoanthropology, did some archaeology and collecting, worked briefly for an Ithorian on Batuu before I got involved with the droid depot there. Eventually moved on to a droid shop with my brother to learn the ropes and rebuild this B1, and naturally started to pick up slicing. It’s definitely the most exciting.” She looked around the ship. “But it does tend to get one in deep water.”

As the ship settled into hyperspace, Iskat asked Ginntho how to spell the planet’s name and excused herself to go to her bunk. She pulled out her tablet and searched for Pkori, but there was almost no information whatsoever—just as Ginntho had told her. A strategically useless planet in Wild Space, a fiercely clannish people who resisted technology, and that was it. She pulled up a star map and mentally plotted a course, which was a challenge in itself. If the Jedi were going to deny her

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