Chapter Three
The Admonitor hung in orbited around the Miashku
planet, directly over the Capitol Marketplace, it's sheer size and
power dwarfed the freighters and yachts that frequented the trading
post. The multitude of communications satellites were like mites
flitting around a cougar, and the small strike cruisers of the world's
defense force was not comparable at all.
Exactly the impression Thrawn wished to make.
While the High Council debated allegence to the Empire,
Thrawn would make certain as many beings as possible saw the
Empire's power, and realize it was to be their friend than enemy.
That the commander of Unity Fleet was here, far from an Imperial
base with only his flagship would show his confidence in his men
and materials.
This was reinforced as he sent wings of TIE fighters on
practice maneuvers in space, which the local satellite-cameras
could record and broadcast. Thrawn even put on a few air shows
above the larger cities to show off the precision of formation and
superior technology and discipline of the Empire.
Until now the only military and police forces for the
Miashku were the private armies of the High Councilors and other
powerful citizens, composed of mercenaries, small groups of
corrupt killers for hire.
"We must show them the benefits of Imperial rule, such as
civilization." The bridge was its usual buzz of activity whenever
the Grand Admiral was present, with everyone at their best. What
pleased Thrawn was the security cams and performance reports
marked the crew as nearly this efficient when he was not in sight.
It could also have something to do with the two scarlet
figures who had accompanied him to the bridge and stood on
either side of the turbolift doors. Even Thrawn had to concede the
Royal Guardsmen were impressive in their silent menace.
Perfectly silent, perfectly still, they were ever watchful and
capable of exploding into action in an eyeblink.
With their lethal force pikes, any of the hundred weapons
under the red cloaks or just bare hands and feet they could deal out
death to the entire bridge crew. The Emperor had sent them as a
symbol of his presence and the authority vested in Thrawn. They
were also here to assassinate him if he showed any signs of trying
to build an Empire of his own here. No doubt they sent private
transmitions daily to Imperial Center and could easily receive
private instructions from the Emperor, by conventional means or
through a special link Palpatine seemed to have with all his elite
guard.
Parck licked his lips, his sole nervous gesture. "I still don't
like this, sir. The planet is a nest of vipers and we're a tempting
target up here, a chance to cut the head off Unity Fleet."
Thrawn smiled slowly. "A concentrated attack on the
Admonitor would require a good many ships and personal.
Coerl is the only power within reach strong enough to make that
kind of strike, and my intelligence sources report no movements in
this direction, nor are any of the other minor warlords and pirate
gangs concentrating military material for a large-scale attack. If
worse comes to worse we have two Star Destroyers and the
Interdictor Cruiser Black Hole ready to jump in-system at a
moment's notice."
Put that way, Parck had to agree, but he still disliked losing
the initiative. "To change the subject, sir, the Miashkus' awe of us
seems to have lost its edge. Their satellites are bombarding the
ship with advertisement for investment opportunities, goods and
services, and the crewers allowed shore leave on the surface have
been propositioned with everything imaginable. The crew would
be bankrupt right now if Imperial credits were the standard
currency out here."
"They will be soon." Thrawn said. "I've just received word
from the High Council. In one hour they will announce their
membership in the Empire."
Parck exhaled slowly, after days of solid negotiating the
major trade center of Zoab sector was theirs. This would tie half
the sector to the Empire, the other half coming with Coerl's defeat.
"Shall I have the conference room prepared for the formal
signing?"
"No, Captain, the High Council insists, and I agree, that the
signing should take place planetside in a public ceremony
broadcast into every household."
Parck gaped. "Sir I advise against this." He managed to get
out at last. "There are many who would like the alliance, not to
mention the Imperial presence in the Unknown Regions, stopped.
A military strike against the Admonitor might be out of the
question, but an attack on you personally is a simpler thing
entirely, especially in an open port where anyone could plant
agents with ease!"
Thrawn's eyes tracked the freighters that trafficked to and
from the surface. "We must show we have nothing to fear to win
their confidence. In any case, I've considered all this." He turned
on his heel and gestured Parck to follow him as he paced to the far
end of the bridge.
"An Imperial survey team will help in preparing the
ceremony sight and check for explosives, gas canisters and other
surprises." He spoke quietly. "During the event itself I will be
wearing body armor under my uniform that will protect against
anything less than a high-intensity blaster bolt. In addition, I plan
to stage a full military parade and air show. It will impress the
people, and incidentally it will put four companies of
stormtroopers around me and eight wings of TIEs overhead." He
stopped near the Royal Guardsmen.
"And finally, I will have these two at my side. The
Emperor's watch-nekks can finally start earning their keep." He
said the last lightly, neither Guardsmen so much as twitched, as
Thrawn expected. The last words were calculated to sting at their
pride and make them more vigilant.
Parck swallowed. It seemed everything had been taken
into account, but he still didn't like it.
******************************************
Vergere knew she was having a nightmare, but was
helpless to alter it or wake up. In the dream, a Star Destroyer
rained death on the world of the Nesz. Coral liquefied and bora
trees burned under the onslaught.
Then she saw Sang Anor walking among the fires, but now
he was a giant miles tall. Striding toward him was another giant, a
Chiss in the white uniform of a Grand Admiral. Sang Anor was as
glorious and terrible as a barbarian god, his deformed face a mask
of pure hatred. The Chiss admiral's eyes burned with the fires of
all the galaxy's hells. They met and grappled and fought in the
shower of turboblaster bolts.
Unnoticed by anyone but Vergere were the Nesz being
crushed under their feet.
Then the scene changed and the planet was a burned out
husk abandoned by Imperials and Vong alike. One lone figure
remained on the blasted landscape. It turned and she saw Oin's
face. The young Nesz's eyes were so weary, filled with sorrow and
a burden too great for Vergere to comprehend.
My fault, she thought, my purpose is to defend and I
brought death instead.
She awoke then, minutes before the alarm would've
sounded. Shivering, she left the small sleeping berth, used the
'fresher and went to the helm. According to the navicomputer the
ship was almost ready to come out of hyperspace. Her hands
trembled as she adjusted the controls. Vergere was too
experienced a Jedi to tell herself she'd simply had a bad dream. It
was a true vision of the future. She didn't know what to make of
the Chiss Admiral, aliens weren't allowed to serve in the Imperial
military, but the rest...
Vong works and Nesz alike destroyed, that was
straightforward enough. She had once spoken about glimpses of
the future with Master Yoda, the acknowledged authority in that
field. He claimed the future was always in motion, that sometimes
beings could alter its results by their actions, but did she dare
attempt to change what she'd seen if the sacrifice of a few
innocents could end the Yuuzhan Vong threat?
The ship reentered realspace in the Miash system. She
powered the ion engines and cruised on a course for the central
planet. Numerous other ships were heading to and away from the
world, and Vergere fell in with a small convoy of bulk freighters.
Rumors on the open comm channels was that the Miashku
were seriously considering alliegence to the Empire, and that the
Fleet commander himself was there with his flagship.
Rumors, it seemed, were true.
A grey-white Star Destroyer hung in orbit, terrible in its
size and majesty. Overwhelming, to one who didn't know the true
power of the Force, compared to which that war machine was just
an oversized toy. Her eyes narrowed and mouth thinned.
Ground control directed her to a small spaceport in the
Outer Ring of the Capital Marketplace. She settled into the
landing cradle and the comm flashed with advertisements for
cleaning services, permawax, refueling and upgrades.
Vergere went to her workroom and got a few gems and
credit chips to use for money. They should convert well despite
there being no standard currency in this part of the galaxy. After a
second?s consideration she decided on packing herself something
to eat rather than depleting what money she had on sampling the
local foodstuff.
She took a step toward the kitchen, and stopped. She
sensed a presence, someone moving around in the room behind the
door!
Vergere sidestepped and unhooked her lightsaber. Taking
a deep breathe, she hit the button to make the door slide open and
bounded into the room before the door was even a quarter open.
Her lightsaber blazed to life and she spun it in her hands. She
landed with the burning point at the throat of the intruder...
Oin!
The Nesz, eyes wide, stood backed against a cooler unit
with a half eaten meat roll in his clawed hand. He swallowed and
smiled sheepishly.
"Want some?"
*************************************
Lt. Stev Rollis and his four companions had found more
than enough to make their shore leave on the Miashku planet
interesting. Everything, it seemed, was legal here. The only
restrictions came from how much one could afford. Of course, the
Empire would clean this place up once they took control, and Stev
had yet to experience some of the more wild passtimes: all
Imperials on shore leave were under orders to keep their conduct
exemplary.
Besides, Imperial credits just didn't transfer well into local
currency, as the money of the Empire wasn't widely used out here.
There was no standard currency in the Unknown Regions,
ironically the most valued currency was Chiss money, giving the
alien Imperials a wider range of choices.
One of the reasons why Stev despised the blue would-be
humans.
Many of the humans in Unity Fleet had developed a healthy
respect for, even friendships with, the Chiss crewers. Not Stev.
Maybe it was their attitude that rubbed him the wrong way: they
were so smug, so secure in their greater knowledge of this part of
space. They even acted as if they were superior to humans! It
could also be that they often proved correct in their belief. Perhaps
it was the simple fact that he didn't like aliens.
He couldn't fault the Grand Admiral, the man had time and
again proved himself to all his subordinates down to the lowest
ensign. Stev was completely loyal to him. Well, there were
exceptions to every rule, and while he might tolerate one alien in a
command position, thousands of Chiss were downright stifling!
"When I signed on to serve the Empire, I thought I'd at least
be in the Empire, not the backwater of the galaxy working to
bring civilization out here."
"You have to wonder what the Emperor sees in this place."
Another trooper said in Basic, or as it was known out here, the
human language. Another drawback to living out here being the
lack of a standard language for all the diverse peoples. That
language being, of course, the human tongue.
"Perhaps his Majesty didn't know what else to do with his
pet Chiss." Another trooper sneered.
"You may not be happy out here," a strange voice called,
"but I am glad to have you here." The five Imperials turned and
saw a tall human leaning against a wall.
"And who're you?" Stev asked.
"My name is Hren Silra, but who I am is less important that
what I am. Human, brother, like you." He pushed himself away
from the wall and sauntered towards them. "There are humans out
here who have heard rumors of your Empire and its views. Who
would welcome the new lifestyle you would bring."
Hren's eyes narrowed. "But we did not expect you to be
fighting side by side with aliens, or a Chiss," he spoke the word
like a curse, "leading you. Maybe rumors of the Emperor's ideals
are only that: rumors."
"Unity Fleet is not the standard of the Empire, not by any
means." Stev drew himself up and spoke coldly. "This is a
temporary alliance."
Hren Silra smiled knowingly. "You are thinking, perhaps,
that you will use the Chiss for their ability and connections out
here, then abandon them when you have established control. But
the Chiss are clever. Be careful it is not you who are left by the
wayside." Stev felt a chill, this was frighteningly close to his own
half-realized fears.
Hren's smile warmed. "But enough of this. It is a time to
celebrate, is it not? Today the Emperor takes another step toward
extending his control throughout the galaxy." True, the formal
signing was scheduled to take place this evening. "And friend, I
know just the way fine humans like yourselves can celebrate in
style."
"That so?" An Imperial crossed his arms. Stev, like the
rest, could feel the sales pitch coming now. The planet's capital wasn't
called a Marketplace for nothing.
"A fine establishment, brothers, where equally fine
beauties, all of them human, are willing and eager to comfort
weary soldiers in every way they could desire."
"What if we're not that weary?" A trooper asked with a
smirk.
"Then be assured you will be." Hren smiled. Stev and the
others couldn't help but grin in return.
"These girls, they'd better not have any of the stuff that
floats around ports like these." Stev tapped his sidearm warningly.
"Strong, healthy specimens," Hren assured them, "the very
flower of humanity. And I am more than willing to accept
Imperial credits. They will soon be the standard currency after
all."
"All right then." Stev chuckled. "We'll give your place a
look over."
Their guide led the Imperials through a few dark alleyways
and old, unrepaired roads damaged by wheels, treads and age.
This was the Outer Ring of the capital, where the poorer denizens
dwelt far below the towering pillars of the Inner Ring. It was also
unpoliced and home to the more unofficial and popular of goods
and entertainments.
Hren walked past the spaceports situated at the edge of the
Outer Ring. Stev and the others followed, chuckling and joking to
one another as they swaggered. They were Imperial troops in a
city they controlled, a Star Destroyer hung over the planet like a
vengeful god's dagger. What did they have to fear?
They passed a couple of Chiss troopers, which they of
course ignored (most of the smug aliens frequented the more
classy and expensive places in the Inner Ring), saw a few ranats
gnawing on waste canisters, strange how the vicious rodents
managed to spread to every planet in the galaxy, and were offered
the wares of a dozen venders, but other than that they met no one.
Hren Silra stopped a nondescript building at the edge of the
Ring, near the landing pads for supply transports from other cities.
"This had better be worth the walk." Stev said coldly.
"You will find this a unique experience." Hren keyed the
side panel and the door slid open. He walked through, followed by
the Imperials.
Stev didn't expect what he found behind the entrance: the
building was a single room, windowless. Only a handful of the
glowpanels on the high ceiling still functioned, providing a few
patches of weak light that contrasted starkly with the inky
blackness. Hren had entered and continued walking towards the
center of the room, the light revealing him for seconds only before
the night-black nothingness swallowed him.
"What is this?" Stev demanded, but Hren didn't answer,
only continued walking across the floor in that same pace.
Because he kept walking, Stev and the others hurried after him. "I
said 'What is this?'" Stev roared, but the stranger had stopped and
turned on his heel, spotlit by a flickering glowpanel, and Stev was
forced to stop short of bumping into him. "I'm not in the mood for
games." He said in a dangerous voice.
Hren Silra cocked his head to one side, a half-smile on his
face. "The atmosphere isn't to your liking, brother?" He spoke
pleasantly, but the last word had a harsh, sarcastic edge. "It suits
my purposes just fine. Behind them, the door slid shut, locking out
the daylight. The unmistakable sound of a locking mechanism
came from that direction. As one, the Imperials felt a chill on their
scalps and ice in their stomachs.
They weren't alone.
Stev looked around and noticed the floor they'd walked
across. Plain grey permacrete, dusty, with small, circular drains
set at regular intervals on the surface. And they noticed the smell,
old and not completely covered up. The smell of blood. This was
no brothel, it was an abandoned abattoir.
Stev drew his blaster. The others, sensing ambush, began
to do the same. "This is a slaughterhouse." He bit out and pointed
the weapon at Hren's chest. The space around them was utterly
silent, whoever Hren's compatriot was, he obviously hadn't moved.
"Open that door and tell us what the deal is if you don't want to
know what a blaster bolt through the heart feels like."
"It could not hurt worse than having to call you 'brother.'"
The smile dissolved, and what replaced it was the coldest
expression Stev had ever seen. "And I said, the atmosphere suits
my purposes." He looked over Stev's shoulder into the darkness.
"Remember, I want no blood on the uniforms." And there was
such a whip-crack of authority in his voice than Stev jumped.
And then all hell itself burst loose. It all happened so fast,
faster than the eye could follow, it took Stev seconds to even
compile what he was seeing.
Long, lean shapes tore out of the darkness, launched
themselves at the Imperials. Stev saw a blur of half-naked
humanoids, their flesh a mess of old scars and tattoos. Blasters
went off, jerked by startled hands rather than deliberately fired.
Stev fired his own blaster and Hren Silra, but the other man was
making his own move by now, and he was much, much faster.
His body twisted to one side so the energy bolt burned past
his chest. His long arm shot out like a snake, his large hand seized
Stev's wrist, gave a small, almost uncaring twist, and snapped the
wrist-bones. Pain raced up Stev's arm, to the tips of his fingers to
the top of his head. His hand opened, the blaster fell to the floor,
and Hren pulled him forward and hurled him into the air.
Instinct made him tuck and roll as he struck the hard
permacrete. He lifted his head, focused dazed eyes, and saw a
nightmare scene. All his companions were down and disarmed,
none having the chance to get off a second shot before the
monsters batted their weapons aside. One of the savages drove a
knee into a man's chest, cracking ribs and rupturing internal
organs. Another simply took both sides of a trooper's head and
snapped his neck. Hren Silra watched, nodded slightly, then
turned to Stev.
He struggled to his feet, adrenaline gave him strength to
ignore his wrist, and rushed the other man. Stev was in a fighting crouch,
the undamaged left hand raised in a fist, he clung to one thought:
he was a fleet trooper, a soldier for the Empire, of course he was
superior to anything these savages had.
Hren Silra tracked him with cold eyes, and when the
Imperial was within reach his arm shot out again fast, so fast! He
reached through Stev's guard before he could react and caught his
throat in a vise-grip, stopping him cold. The arm lifted, forcing
Stev to straighten or have his feet leave the floor altogether.
Hren's smile had returned, this time with a sad, almost wistful
expression.
"See how helpless your dependence of machines had made
you? How weak? But there is some courage in this frail form,
isn't there? You will make a decent sacrifice to Yun Yammka."
The fingers tightened and Stev's eyes bulged as is air supply was
cut off. He pried at the fingers on his neck, he punched and kicked
at the man holding him. Stev was a big man, well versed in hand-
to-hand combat, but this was like hitting durasteel!
Hren Silra lifted his free hand and long, wicked claws
sprouted from under the fingernails. He reached up and touched
something on his face, and his face...sagged. It was as though the
skin was loosening, peeling away from the skull beneath, and that
was exactly the case.
If it were possible for Stev's eyes to bulge any farther they
would have. There was another face under that second skin. A
face straight from the hell his mother had used to scare him with as
a child. A place that, until this moment, Stev Rollis had convinced
himself he no longer believed in.
*******************************
With his face free of the masquer, Hren Silra opened his
hand and let the corpse fall to the floor, then turned to survey the
other Yuuzhan Vongs' handiwork.
"As you commanded," the senior warrior addressed him,
"not so much as a drop of blood stains their clothes." True enough:
there were bruises and broken bones, but the humans' skin had not
been pierced. And the fight would have ended in a fraction of the
time had that not been necessary.
"Good, I would have hated having to go out and find
another batch of fools to lure here. Strip them. But be careful not
to tear those uniforms." He looked down at Stev's body. He was
about Hren Silra's size, it would be a tight fit in some places, loose
in others, but it would do.
In minutes the five Imperials had been undressed. Four
ooglith masquers lay in a darkened corner of the slaughterhouse,
they were called over and their face-sections were pressed against
the faces of the corpses, long enough for the masquers' features to
alter and match the Imperials'. Hren Silra placed his own
masquer's 'face' on Stev's.
Two Vong then placed the bodies over a drain while Nom
Anor, the youngest present, fetched the ruaswyrms. The small,
white grubs that the Yuuzhan Vong used to dispose of waste
materials were released on the corpses, and quick as an eyeblink
the thousands of tiny worms bored into their flesh.
The gluttonous worms ate trails through the humans, and as
they ate they excreted corrosive acids in their myriad wakes.
Within moments the bodies began to deflate, to collapse in on
themselves. In less then half an hour the five were completely
liquefied. The ruaswyrms were summoned back into their
container. One of the Vong unrolled a long hose from the wall,
twisted the spigot and sprayed the floor. The five Yuuzhan Vong
gathered their ooglith masquers and turned to the uniforms.
A little less than an hour after they entered the old
slaughterhouse, the five Imperial fleet troopers appeared to exit the
building. They spread out and made for the central Marketplace,
where Grand Admiral Thrawn himself would appear to sign the
formal treaty in a few hours' time.
The Admonitor hung in orbited around the Miashku
planet, directly over the Capitol Marketplace, it's sheer size and
power dwarfed the freighters and yachts that frequented the trading
post. The multitude of communications satellites were like mites
flitting around a cougar, and the small strike cruisers of the world's
defense force was not comparable at all.
Exactly the impression Thrawn wished to make.
While the High Council debated allegence to the Empire,
Thrawn would make certain as many beings as possible saw the
Empire's power, and realize it was to be their friend than enemy.
That the commander of Unity Fleet was here, far from an Imperial
base with only his flagship would show his confidence in his men
and materials.
This was reinforced as he sent wings of TIE fighters on
practice maneuvers in space, which the local satellite-cameras
could record and broadcast. Thrawn even put on a few air shows
above the larger cities to show off the precision of formation and
superior technology and discipline of the Empire.
Until now the only military and police forces for the
Miashku were the private armies of the High Councilors and other
powerful citizens, composed of mercenaries, small groups of
corrupt killers for hire.
"We must show them the benefits of Imperial rule, such as
civilization." The bridge was its usual buzz of activity whenever
the Grand Admiral was present, with everyone at their best. What
pleased Thrawn was the security cams and performance reports
marked the crew as nearly this efficient when he was not in sight.
It could also have something to do with the two scarlet
figures who had accompanied him to the bridge and stood on
either side of the turbolift doors. Even Thrawn had to concede the
Royal Guardsmen were impressive in their silent menace.
Perfectly silent, perfectly still, they were ever watchful and
capable of exploding into action in an eyeblink.
With their lethal force pikes, any of the hundred weapons
under the red cloaks or just bare hands and feet they could deal out
death to the entire bridge crew. The Emperor had sent them as a
symbol of his presence and the authority vested in Thrawn. They
were also here to assassinate him if he showed any signs of trying
to build an Empire of his own here. No doubt they sent private
transmitions daily to Imperial Center and could easily receive
private instructions from the Emperor, by conventional means or
through a special link Palpatine seemed to have with all his elite
guard.
Parck licked his lips, his sole nervous gesture. "I still don't
like this, sir. The planet is a nest of vipers and we're a tempting
target up here, a chance to cut the head off Unity Fleet."
Thrawn smiled slowly. "A concentrated attack on the
Admonitor would require a good many ships and personal.
Coerl is the only power within reach strong enough to make that
kind of strike, and my intelligence sources report no movements in
this direction, nor are any of the other minor warlords and pirate
gangs concentrating military material for a large-scale attack. If
worse comes to worse we have two Star Destroyers and the
Interdictor Cruiser Black Hole ready to jump in-system at a
moment's notice."
Put that way, Parck had to agree, but he still disliked losing
the initiative. "To change the subject, sir, the Miashkus' awe of us
seems to have lost its edge. Their satellites are bombarding the
ship with advertisement for investment opportunities, goods and
services, and the crewers allowed shore leave on the surface have
been propositioned with everything imaginable. The crew would
be bankrupt right now if Imperial credits were the standard
currency out here."
"They will be soon." Thrawn said. "I've just received word
from the High Council. In one hour they will announce their
membership in the Empire."
Parck exhaled slowly, after days of solid negotiating the
major trade center of Zoab sector was theirs. This would tie half
the sector to the Empire, the other half coming with Coerl's defeat.
"Shall I have the conference room prepared for the formal
signing?"
"No, Captain, the High Council insists, and I agree, that the
signing should take place planetside in a public ceremony
broadcast into every household."
Parck gaped. "Sir I advise against this." He managed to get
out at last. "There are many who would like the alliance, not to
mention the Imperial presence in the Unknown Regions, stopped.
A military strike against the Admonitor might be out of the
question, but an attack on you personally is a simpler thing
entirely, especially in an open port where anyone could plant
agents with ease!"
Thrawn's eyes tracked the freighters that trafficked to and
from the surface. "We must show we have nothing to fear to win
their confidence. In any case, I've considered all this." He turned
on his heel and gestured Parck to follow him as he paced to the far
end of the bridge.
"An Imperial survey team will help in preparing the
ceremony sight and check for explosives, gas canisters and other
surprises." He spoke quietly. "During the event itself I will be
wearing body armor under my uniform that will protect against
anything less than a high-intensity blaster bolt. In addition, I plan
to stage a full military parade and air show. It will impress the
people, and incidentally it will put four companies of
stormtroopers around me and eight wings of TIEs overhead." He
stopped near the Royal Guardsmen.
"And finally, I will have these two at my side. The
Emperor's watch-nekks can finally start earning their keep." He
said the last lightly, neither Guardsmen so much as twitched, as
Thrawn expected. The last words were calculated to sting at their
pride and make them more vigilant.
Parck swallowed. It seemed everything had been taken
into account, but he still didn't like it.
******************************************
Vergere knew she was having a nightmare, but was
helpless to alter it or wake up. In the dream, a Star Destroyer
rained death on the world of the Nesz. Coral liquefied and bora
trees burned under the onslaught.
Then she saw Sang Anor walking among the fires, but now
he was a giant miles tall. Striding toward him was another giant, a
Chiss in the white uniform of a Grand Admiral. Sang Anor was as
glorious and terrible as a barbarian god, his deformed face a mask
of pure hatred. The Chiss admiral's eyes burned with the fires of
all the galaxy's hells. They met and grappled and fought in the
shower of turboblaster bolts.
Unnoticed by anyone but Vergere were the Nesz being
crushed under their feet.
Then the scene changed and the planet was a burned out
husk abandoned by Imperials and Vong alike. One lone figure
remained on the blasted landscape. It turned and she saw Oin's
face. The young Nesz's eyes were so weary, filled with sorrow and
a burden too great for Vergere to comprehend.
My fault, she thought, my purpose is to defend and I
brought death instead.
She awoke then, minutes before the alarm would've
sounded. Shivering, she left the small sleeping berth, used the
'fresher and went to the helm. According to the navicomputer the
ship was almost ready to come out of hyperspace. Her hands
trembled as she adjusted the controls. Vergere was too
experienced a Jedi to tell herself she'd simply had a bad dream. It
was a true vision of the future. She didn't know what to make of
the Chiss Admiral, aliens weren't allowed to serve in the Imperial
military, but the rest...
Vong works and Nesz alike destroyed, that was
straightforward enough. She had once spoken about glimpses of
the future with Master Yoda, the acknowledged authority in that
field. He claimed the future was always in motion, that sometimes
beings could alter its results by their actions, but did she dare
attempt to change what she'd seen if the sacrifice of a few
innocents could end the Yuuzhan Vong threat?
The ship reentered realspace in the Miash system. She
powered the ion engines and cruised on a course for the central
planet. Numerous other ships were heading to and away from the
world, and Vergere fell in with a small convoy of bulk freighters.
Rumors on the open comm channels was that the Miashku
were seriously considering alliegence to the Empire, and that the
Fleet commander himself was there with his flagship.
Rumors, it seemed, were true.
A grey-white Star Destroyer hung in orbit, terrible in its
size and majesty. Overwhelming, to one who didn't know the true
power of the Force, compared to which that war machine was just
an oversized toy. Her eyes narrowed and mouth thinned.
Ground control directed her to a small spaceport in the
Outer Ring of the Capital Marketplace. She settled into the
landing cradle and the comm flashed with advertisements for
cleaning services, permawax, refueling and upgrades.
Vergere went to her workroom and got a few gems and
credit chips to use for money. They should convert well despite
there being no standard currency in this part of the galaxy. After a
second?s consideration she decided on packing herself something
to eat rather than depleting what money she had on sampling the
local foodstuff.
She took a step toward the kitchen, and stopped. She
sensed a presence, someone moving around in the room behind the
door!
Vergere sidestepped and unhooked her lightsaber. Taking
a deep breathe, she hit the button to make the door slide open and
bounded into the room before the door was even a quarter open.
Her lightsaber blazed to life and she spun it in her hands. She
landed with the burning point at the throat of the intruder...
Oin!
The Nesz, eyes wide, stood backed against a cooler unit
with a half eaten meat roll in his clawed hand. He swallowed and
smiled sheepishly.
"Want some?"
*************************************
Lt. Stev Rollis and his four companions had found more
than enough to make their shore leave on the Miashku planet
interesting. Everything, it seemed, was legal here. The only
restrictions came from how much one could afford. Of course, the
Empire would clean this place up once they took control, and Stev
had yet to experience some of the more wild passtimes: all
Imperials on shore leave were under orders to keep their conduct
exemplary.
Besides, Imperial credits just didn't transfer well into local
currency, as the money of the Empire wasn't widely used out here.
There was no standard currency in the Unknown Regions,
ironically the most valued currency was Chiss money, giving the
alien Imperials a wider range of choices.
One of the reasons why Stev despised the blue would-be
humans.
Many of the humans in Unity Fleet had developed a healthy
respect for, even friendships with, the Chiss crewers. Not Stev.
Maybe it was their attitude that rubbed him the wrong way: they
were so smug, so secure in their greater knowledge of this part of
space. They even acted as if they were superior to humans! It
could also be that they often proved correct in their belief. Perhaps
it was the simple fact that he didn't like aliens.
He couldn't fault the Grand Admiral, the man had time and
again proved himself to all his subordinates down to the lowest
ensign. Stev was completely loyal to him. Well, there were
exceptions to every rule, and while he might tolerate one alien in a
command position, thousands of Chiss were downright stifling!
"When I signed on to serve the Empire, I thought I'd at least
be in the Empire, not the backwater of the galaxy working to
bring civilization out here."
"You have to wonder what the Emperor sees in this place."
Another trooper said in Basic, or as it was known out here, the
human language. Another drawback to living out here being the
lack of a standard language for all the diverse peoples. That
language being, of course, the human tongue.
"Perhaps his Majesty didn't know what else to do with his
pet Chiss." Another trooper sneered.
"You may not be happy out here," a strange voice called,
"but I am glad to have you here." The five Imperials turned and
saw a tall human leaning against a wall.
"And who're you?" Stev asked.
"My name is Hren Silra, but who I am is less important that
what I am. Human, brother, like you." He pushed himself away
from the wall and sauntered towards them. "There are humans out
here who have heard rumors of your Empire and its views. Who
would welcome the new lifestyle you would bring."
Hren's eyes narrowed. "But we did not expect you to be
fighting side by side with aliens, or a Chiss," he spoke the word
like a curse, "leading you. Maybe rumors of the Emperor's ideals
are only that: rumors."
"Unity Fleet is not the standard of the Empire, not by any
means." Stev drew himself up and spoke coldly. "This is a
temporary alliance."
Hren Silra smiled knowingly. "You are thinking, perhaps,
that you will use the Chiss for their ability and connections out
here, then abandon them when you have established control. But
the Chiss are clever. Be careful it is not you who are left by the
wayside." Stev felt a chill, this was frighteningly close to his own
half-realized fears.
Hren's smile warmed. "But enough of this. It is a time to
celebrate, is it not? Today the Emperor takes another step toward
extending his control throughout the galaxy." True, the formal
signing was scheduled to take place this evening. "And friend, I
know just the way fine humans like yourselves can celebrate in
style."
"That so?" An Imperial crossed his arms. Stev, like the
rest, could feel the sales pitch coming now. The planet's capital wasn't
called a Marketplace for nothing.
"A fine establishment, brothers, where equally fine
beauties, all of them human, are willing and eager to comfort
weary soldiers in every way they could desire."
"What if we're not that weary?" A trooper asked with a
smirk.
"Then be assured you will be." Hren smiled. Stev and the
others couldn't help but grin in return.
"These girls, they'd better not have any of the stuff that
floats around ports like these." Stev tapped his sidearm warningly.
"Strong, healthy specimens," Hren assured them, "the very
flower of humanity. And I am more than willing to accept
Imperial credits. They will soon be the standard currency after
all."
"All right then." Stev chuckled. "We'll give your place a
look over."
Their guide led the Imperials through a few dark alleyways
and old, unrepaired roads damaged by wheels, treads and age.
This was the Outer Ring of the capital, where the poorer denizens
dwelt far below the towering pillars of the Inner Ring. It was also
unpoliced and home to the more unofficial and popular of goods
and entertainments.
Hren walked past the spaceports situated at the edge of the
Outer Ring. Stev and the others followed, chuckling and joking to
one another as they swaggered. They were Imperial troops in a
city they controlled, a Star Destroyer hung over the planet like a
vengeful god's dagger. What did they have to fear?
They passed a couple of Chiss troopers, which they of
course ignored (most of the smug aliens frequented the more
classy and expensive places in the Inner Ring), saw a few ranats
gnawing on waste canisters, strange how the vicious rodents
managed to spread to every planet in the galaxy, and were offered
the wares of a dozen venders, but other than that they met no one.
Hren Silra stopped a nondescript building at the edge of the
Ring, near the landing pads for supply transports from other cities.
"This had better be worth the walk." Stev said coldly.
"You will find this a unique experience." Hren keyed the
side panel and the door slid open. He walked through, followed by
the Imperials.
Stev didn't expect what he found behind the entrance: the
building was a single room, windowless. Only a handful of the
glowpanels on the high ceiling still functioned, providing a few
patches of weak light that contrasted starkly with the inky
blackness. Hren had entered and continued walking towards the
center of the room, the light revealing him for seconds only before
the night-black nothingness swallowed him.
"What is this?" Stev demanded, but Hren didn't answer,
only continued walking across the floor in that same pace.
Because he kept walking, Stev and the others hurried after him. "I
said 'What is this?'" Stev roared, but the stranger had stopped and
turned on his heel, spotlit by a flickering glowpanel, and Stev was
forced to stop short of bumping into him. "I'm not in the mood for
games." He said in a dangerous voice.
Hren Silra cocked his head to one side, a half-smile on his
face. "The atmosphere isn't to your liking, brother?" He spoke
pleasantly, but the last word had a harsh, sarcastic edge. "It suits
my purposes just fine. Behind them, the door slid shut, locking out
the daylight. The unmistakable sound of a locking mechanism
came from that direction. As one, the Imperials felt a chill on their
scalps and ice in their stomachs.
They weren't alone.
Stev looked around and noticed the floor they'd walked
across. Plain grey permacrete, dusty, with small, circular drains
set at regular intervals on the surface. And they noticed the smell,
old and not completely covered up. The smell of blood. This was
no brothel, it was an abandoned abattoir.
Stev drew his blaster. The others, sensing ambush, began
to do the same. "This is a slaughterhouse." He bit out and pointed
the weapon at Hren's chest. The space around them was utterly
silent, whoever Hren's compatriot was, he obviously hadn't moved.
"Open that door and tell us what the deal is if you don't want to
know what a blaster bolt through the heart feels like."
"It could not hurt worse than having to call you 'brother.'"
The smile dissolved, and what replaced it was the coldest
expression Stev had ever seen. "And I said, the atmosphere suits
my purposes." He looked over Stev's shoulder into the darkness.
"Remember, I want no blood on the uniforms." And there was
such a whip-crack of authority in his voice than Stev jumped.
And then all hell itself burst loose. It all happened so fast,
faster than the eye could follow, it took Stev seconds to even
compile what he was seeing.
Long, lean shapes tore out of the darkness, launched
themselves at the Imperials. Stev saw a blur of half-naked
humanoids, their flesh a mess of old scars and tattoos. Blasters
went off, jerked by startled hands rather than deliberately fired.
Stev fired his own blaster and Hren Silra, but the other man was
making his own move by now, and he was much, much faster.
His body twisted to one side so the energy bolt burned past
his chest. His long arm shot out like a snake, his large hand seized
Stev's wrist, gave a small, almost uncaring twist, and snapped the
wrist-bones. Pain raced up Stev's arm, to the tips of his fingers to
the top of his head. His hand opened, the blaster fell to the floor,
and Hren pulled him forward and hurled him into the air.
Instinct made him tuck and roll as he struck the hard
permacrete. He lifted his head, focused dazed eyes, and saw a
nightmare scene. All his companions were down and disarmed,
none having the chance to get off a second shot before the
monsters batted their weapons aside. One of the savages drove a
knee into a man's chest, cracking ribs and rupturing internal
organs. Another simply took both sides of a trooper's head and
snapped his neck. Hren Silra watched, nodded slightly, then
turned to Stev.
He struggled to his feet, adrenaline gave him strength to
ignore his wrist, and rushed the other man. Stev was in a fighting crouch,
the undamaged left hand raised in a fist, he clung to one thought:
he was a fleet trooper, a soldier for the Empire, of course he was
superior to anything these savages had.
Hren Silra tracked him with cold eyes, and when the
Imperial was within reach his arm shot out again fast, so fast! He
reached through Stev's guard before he could react and caught his
throat in a vise-grip, stopping him cold. The arm lifted, forcing
Stev to straighten or have his feet leave the floor altogether.
Hren's smile had returned, this time with a sad, almost wistful
expression.
"See how helpless your dependence of machines had made
you? How weak? But there is some courage in this frail form,
isn't there? You will make a decent sacrifice to Yun Yammka."
The fingers tightened and Stev's eyes bulged as is air supply was
cut off. He pried at the fingers on his neck, he punched and kicked
at the man holding him. Stev was a big man, well versed in hand-
to-hand combat, but this was like hitting durasteel!
Hren Silra lifted his free hand and long, wicked claws
sprouted from under the fingernails. He reached up and touched
something on his face, and his face...sagged. It was as though the
skin was loosening, peeling away from the skull beneath, and that
was exactly the case.
If it were possible for Stev's eyes to bulge any farther they
would have. There was another face under that second skin. A
face straight from the hell his mother had used to scare him with as
a child. A place that, until this moment, Stev Rollis had convinced
himself he no longer believed in.
*******************************
With his face free of the masquer, Hren Silra opened his
hand and let the corpse fall to the floor, then turned to survey the
other Yuuzhan Vongs' handiwork.
"As you commanded," the senior warrior addressed him,
"not so much as a drop of blood stains their clothes." True enough:
there were bruises and broken bones, but the humans' skin had not
been pierced. And the fight would have ended in a fraction of the
time had that not been necessary.
"Good, I would have hated having to go out and find
another batch of fools to lure here. Strip them. But be careful not
to tear those uniforms." He looked down at Stev's body. He was
about Hren Silra's size, it would be a tight fit in some places, loose
in others, but it would do.
In minutes the five Imperials had been undressed. Four
ooglith masquers lay in a darkened corner of the slaughterhouse,
they were called over and their face-sections were pressed against
the faces of the corpses, long enough for the masquers' features to
alter and match the Imperials'. Hren Silra placed his own
masquer's 'face' on Stev's.
Two Vong then placed the bodies over a drain while Nom
Anor, the youngest present, fetched the ruaswyrms. The small,
white grubs that the Yuuzhan Vong used to dispose of waste
materials were released on the corpses, and quick as an eyeblink
the thousands of tiny worms bored into their flesh.
The gluttonous worms ate trails through the humans, and as
they ate they excreted corrosive acids in their myriad wakes.
Within moments the bodies began to deflate, to collapse in on
themselves. In less then half an hour the five were completely
liquefied. The ruaswyrms were summoned back into their
container. One of the Vong unrolled a long hose from the wall,
twisted the spigot and sprayed the floor. The five Yuuzhan Vong
gathered their ooglith masquers and turned to the uniforms.
A little less than an hour after they entered the old
slaughterhouse, the five Imperial fleet troopers appeared to exit the
building. They spread out and made for the central Marketplace,
where Grand Admiral Thrawn himself would appear to sign the
formal treaty in a few hours' time.