Dramatis Personae
(major characters in Clash of Fates I @ II)
Imperial forces-
Thrawn; Grand Admiral (Chiss male)
Voss Parck; captain (human male)
Dagon Niriz; moff (human male)
Fanis Veenir; commander (human male)
Beyin; general (Chiss male) *
Stent; pilot (Chiss male)
Drash Tevock; pilot (human male)
Yuuzhan Vong forces-
Sang Anor; Executor (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Ke'Nass; Prefect (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Nom Anor; feenir (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Ceis Grasm; subaltern (Yuuzhan Vong female)
Hren Silra; covert operative (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Kei Rascer; overseer (Yuuzhan Vong female)
Krelt; priest (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Wras; initiate (Chiss male)
Coerl; warlord (Jrukto male)
Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet-
Vraet; Syndic (Chiss male) *
Taesk; Syndic (Chiss male) *
Raine; commander (Chiss female) *
Jedi-
Vergere (Fosh female)
Nesz-
Oin; hunter (Nesz male)
Dra; lead hunter (Nesz male)
Vlu; elder (Nesz male)
* = has not appeared as of this chapter
Chapter 8
"This is it." Nom Anor paced around the bank, eyes fixed
on the half-sunken escape pod that jutted from the stagnant pool.
"How can you be so sure?" Ceis Grasm asked. Like Nom
Anor and the other five Yuuzhan Vong, the subaltern was girded in
vonduun shell armor and held a ridged amphistaff in one hand.
"The machine ship had dozens of escape pods, and launched all of
them into the atmosphere as it detonated."
"I have seen the intelligence regarding the battle." Nom
Anor answered easily. During the battle the Vong sensors, on the
ground, in orbit disguised as meteorites and on the coralskippers
themselves, had absorbed the events around them so the
information could be stored in and sorted by villips for easy
access.
"This pod altered the vector of decent several times to land
in this particular spot: a remote area outside our control. Also the
pod itself is virtually undamaged." He prodded the ground with
the tail of his amphistaff. "This is where the Jedi disembarked."
"A fine analysis, but you overlook one thing," Ceis Grasm
spoke in a voice that managed to be businesslike and patronizing at
the same time, "the machine is upside-down with all its weight on
the submerged hatch. How could they get out?" The female
Vong's tone dripped with false respect, making Nom Anor bristle.
Clearly she thought him no more that a half-trained boy, and
certainly she resented being put under the younger Vong's
command. The subaltern was no more than five years his senior,
but she had been raised from the feenir stage at an earlier age.
"She manipulated the Force," Nom Anor responded
promptly, "to move the pod to its current position after she made
her egress, probably to make this an unlikely-seeming landing spot
and fool search teams." like this one hanging unspoken. "You
are dealing with a Jedi, subaltern, and I feel you lack experience
in their ways." Nom Anor showed none of the satisfaction he felt
on seeing Ceis Grasm's eyes flash with anger before she could
hood them.
Not that it would've mattered if he had evidenced
satisfaction: nothing of their expressions could be seen behind the
masked helms.
Truthfully, any annoyance with the warriors was minor
indeed compared to the thrill of at last closing in on the Jedi. He
flexed his hand and unsheathed the sharp claws in his gauntlet's
fingertips, imagining tearing into Vergere?s feathery hide. "Now
we must hurry, she has enough of a head-start as it is." He reached
into a pocket in his bandolier and withdrew a single, soft feather.
It and others like it had been preserved by Sang Anor for the past
three years for just such an occasion.
He then raised his forearm to regard the trasedak attached
to it, the hooks on its short legs locked into his armor's minuscule
ridges. Nom Anor gently stroked the segmented body until the
trasedak extended two long, sensitive antennae and began waving
them about, probing the environment.
Nom Anor waved the feather slowly in front of the sensors
until the antennae stopped the directionless motions and instead
pointed directly at the piece of Vergere's plumage. The Vong
tucked it back into his bandolier and pointed his arm at the ground.
The trasedak had resumed its probing once the feather had been
taken away, but as Nom Anor paced along the bank the antennae
suddenly went ridged again, pointing at a spot at the edge of the
bank. A tight smile twisted the face beneath the mask as he slowly
turned, the antennae never losing their lock on the specific
chemical traces that matched the feather. Trasedaks were
incredible trackers in their natural state, and Yuuzhan Vong
Shapers had enhanced those traits in them to an astonishing
degree. Larger breeds of trasedaks were even used in warships to
pick out and track a specific machine-ship's ion trail.
And of course they all turned neuter once they reached
maturity, so that not even the scent of another trasedak during
mating season could distract them from their quarry.
"The Jedi went deeper into the swamp," Nom Anor said,
"probably to meet with native help."
"She will be disappointed." one warrior asserted. "We have
been hunting them for weeks, there can't be that many who aren't
slaves or dead."
"We shall see. But be on your guard, the Jedi might have
help."
"I will report our progress to the Prefect." Ceis Grasm
turned to a small villip mounted on her shoulder.
"Yes." Nom Anor spared the dutiful subaltern a glance,
and wondered when she would try and kill him.
Of course knew the Ceis Grasm's true purpose, had known
it the instant Ke'Nass had presented her: the Prefect was a fool,
and never more transparent than when he tried to be clever. The
only question was when and in what method the assassination
would come. He would have to watch and be ready.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, calmly
assessing the threat she posed to him. The subaltern was shorter
than him by half a head and not nearly as broad of shoulder. In
terms of simple, brute strength he guessed he would have the
advantage. He didn't let himself become overconfident, though:
years of study under Sang Anor had taught the young Vong to look
beyond appearances. Ke'Nass wasn't a complete idiot, he wouldn't
have chosen her if he wasn't sure she was up to the task, and while
it was true that fewer females than males succeeded as warriors,
the females that did were usually twice as good as the males.
A thought crossed his mind: had Sang Anor known he
would be put in this position? Yes, now that Nom Anor thought
about it, he believed so. Sang Anor was clever, and he knew
Ke'Nass well, was more than capable of predicting what the
Prefect's reaction to Nom Anor would be.
It didn't matter. This was just one more trial to overcome,
he would succeed and be escalated in the eyes of the gods, or he
would fail and die. It was the way of the Yuuzhan Vong. He
didn't fault his father for putting him in this position, it was to be
expected: the ways of the Yuuzhan Vong did not make for a gentle
people. They did not coddle their young, one had to prove oneself
worthy to grow and prosper.
This was why the Yuuzhan Vong were so much greater
than the other races of the universe, and only the strong would
have a place in the society the Vong would make in this galaxy.
"This way." They started into the marshes.
*************************************************
"No!" Was Stent's instant and furious response. "Out of
the question!"
"You don't have any other option." Vergere pressed.
"Parties of Yuuzhan Vong are flanking you on every side. They're
holding position only because they expect you to walk into their
ambush, but it's only a matter of time before they get suspicious
and attack. The only way through their net is to follow Dra's plan:
divide yourselves into small groups, say about five each, and let
the Nesz guide you out of this trap."
"If we do that the Vong would be able to pick us off one by
one." Stent snapped. "Besides, we only have a handful of com
links so the parties wont be able to communicate. We stay
together." The Chiss said with cold finality.
It was all Vergere could do not to roll her eyes. It was as
bad as she'd thought it would be. The arrogant humans and
aristocratic Chiss were determined to be the ones giving the orders,
convinced of their innate superiority. Stent wanted the Imperials
to attack the Yuuzhan Vong flanking them, or better yet engage the
ambushers ahead, which would only get them all killed. His
obvious disdain for the 'savages,' both Yuuzhan Vong and Nesz,
was starting to grate on her. Perhaps Dra was right, she should
leave these people to their own devices, at least they would keep
the Yuuzhan Vong busy.
But no, she reconsidered, glancing at the Imperials on
guard around them. Stent had stationed about half of them in a
rough circle inside of which the others sat, crouched or leaned
against bora trees, but even the ones at rest were alert and kept
their weapons ready. Whatever else they were, they were also
trained soldiers, which was something she and the Nesz needed.
The Imperials needed the Nesz and their familiarity with this
world more, though, the trouble was in making the offworlders
admit it.
Besides, as a Jedi she was bound to do her best to defend
their lives as well. They might serve the Empire, but they were
also frightened and far from home. She could empathize with
many of them. Except for one human in particular: an ordinary-
looking pilot standing near one of the bora trees. He was the only
pilot who seemed totally unconcerned with finding a Nesz arrow
suddenly sprouting from some part of his body. Of course he
wasn't worried, he would sense any attack by the Nesz through the
Force before it could happen.
Sensing a Force-strong individual among the Imperials had
been a surprise for Vergere, and the taint of the dark side she felt
emanating from him had been like an electric shock to the Jedi.
There was no question about it when she looked at the
world through the Force, not at the physical universe but at the
boundless ocean of life-energy around them. The energy flowed
around them all, connecting her, the Nesz and the Imperials
together. Waves and eddies of life-force seemed to swirl around
them, the different emotions giving each wave a new 'flavor.'
Living beings like herself, Oin and Stent appeared as bright,
starlike focal points of energy shining with life, giving off emotion
and power into the Force. The young man by the tree was like an
oozing sore, spilling out darkness like a leak in a canister of toxic
waste.
But the most amazing thing of all was that, unbelievable as
it might seem, the young man had no idea he was using the Force
at all!
But never mind that. She would turn her attention to this
unexpected development after she had dealt with the more
immediate problems, so she promised herself as she turned her
attention to the rest of the Imperial pilots.
The few divisions that had existed between the human and
Chiss pilots seemed to have evaporated on their trek through the
marshes. Humans and Chiss sat together, spoke quietly to one
another, checked each other's wounds and helped repair and clean
each other's weapons. Many even sat back-to-back in case of
trouble. The Yuuzhan Vong had done what dozens of Imperial
regulations couldn't: made these two insufferably arrogant races
get along.
The problem was, even if the Imperial humans and Chiss
had come to respect each other, they were still disdainful of the
Nesz, and unaware of how ridiculous the superior demeanor they
put forward looked.
The Imperial pilots were a pathetic sight, grimy and
sweating from the humidity and heat that was so comfortable to
the cold-blooded Nesz but not nearly as friendly to mammalian life
forms like humans and Chiss. Many were covered with insect
bites that itched horribly and scratches from spiny plants that
ripped through the cloth under their discarded flight suits. More
than a few were sopping wet from falling into the bogs and barely
getting fished out in time, losing or ruining most of their supplies
in the process.
The Chiss were too proud to scratch their bug bites in
public, but the Jedi could feel their discomfort. The pilots didn't
have much in the way medical supplies, only the survival kits that
were packed in the fighters, and they were running short.
Doubtless they were now very grateful for the immunizations
They'd received in the fleet that kept the worst of any unfamiliar
pathogens from them.
But they were still weary and worn out. They were well-
trained, but they were pilots, not infantry, and this terrain was
wearing them down.
Dra and Oin sat on either side of her, facing Stent and a
human pilot, the only two Imperial officers to have survived up till
now. The Nesz were impressed by the weaponry and discipline of
the Imperials, but weren?t in awe of them. This aggravated Stent,
who seemed to think the small reptilians should grovel at the sight
of the Imperials.
"We are running out of time," Vergere repeated, "you must
divide up and follow the Nesz, they will guide you out of this net.
We can all meet up again deeper in the marshes and plan our next
move, but we must act now!"
"And put my men in your trust, Jedi?" Stent replied tersely.
He spoke to her, not the Nesz. Indeed, he talked about the natives
as if they weren't even there. "We would be completely in your
power, those reptiles could kill us all easily if we split up."
Vergere narrowed her eyes. "The Nesz have had bad
experienced with offworlders, Stent. They would feel safer if they
had the upper hand."
"I've little reason to trust you." The Chiss snapped.
"Maybe this is all just a trick to divide us, so your pets can kill us
off and take our weapons and equipment." Stent turned his
glowing gaze on the two Nesz, appraising them as though they
were pieces of furniture. "Besides, what if these animals decide to
turn on us without you to keep them under control?" Dra stirred
angrily and Oin fisted his claws.
"You are mistaken." Vergere replied in a level voice, but
with a sharp edge to it. "The Nesz are not mine to command. Dra
here is the leader of his people, and he has given me permission to
speak to you on his behalf because of my knowledge of
offworlders and skill with Basic, but the final decision to even
provide you aid will be his."
Stent's eyebrows raised in surprise and outrage. "This is
idiocy!" He spat. "We are to trust in these inferior savages?
Never!"
The Jedi's reaction was instantaneous and unexpected.
Vergere's hand snapped out faster than Stent's eyes could follow.
She seized the dirty collar of the pilot's torn jumper and pulled him
forward until their noses were all but touching.
"You will not take that tone again." Her violet eyes flashed
dangerously. The other Imperials reached for their weapons, but
something in the Jedi's tone seemed to turn their hands to blocks of
ice even as her voice held their attention. "The Nesz have faced
more than you could imagine, more than they had the experience
to deal with and much more than any of them deserved."
"Understand this: I didn't have to come to you, and I don't
have to help you. Many of the Nesz believe you would be more
trouble than help and should simply be left to keep the Yuuzhan
Vong occupied. I am beginning to think they're right." She
released the Chiss with a backward shove. Stent's mouth twitched
as if he would bit out a reply, but he said nothing and did not meet
her eyes.
Vergere stood in a single, fluid movement and looked
down on the sitting Chiss. It was not a terribly great height, for she
was a short being, but to Stent it seemed she towered over him.
Oin and Dra stood with her, and the one-eyed Nesz spoke in fairly
understandable Basic.
"The Jedi has spoken for my people and I will leave you to
decide if you will accept our help on our terms, but consider this:
in the air and the blackness beyond you are formidable, but here
and now a handful of Nesz hunters could defeat you. You have
survived this long because the Yuuzhan Vong have allowed you to.
My people are one with the land and these invaders have hunted
us almost to the last. You stomp through the marshes like dying
mud-crawlers and leave tracks a blind Nesz could follow." One of
the Imperial opened his mouth for an angry retort, but Stent
silenced him with a glance.
"I ask you this: how long do you think you will last without
our aid when the Vong learn their plan has failed and begin
hunting you in earnest?" Dra turned and began walking away from
the Imperials, with Oin and Vergere following in his wake.
"Wait," Stent called after them and the Jedi and Nesz
turned back, "I don't think we need to consider it." The Chiss
managed to not sound condescending. "I don't like this, but the
only option we have left is to accept your terms." He glanced at
the others. "Are we in agreement?" A human commander
grumbled an assent while the other two Chiss snapped brief nods.
"It's settled. We'll follow your plan, but you remember this," and
now Stent's voice took on a dangerous edge at odds with his
bedraggled appearance but no less menacing, "if you betray us,
Admiral Thrawn will find out about it somehow, and he will
make you pay for it."
Vergere met the glowing eyes without flinching, and Dra
answered. "Have no fear, the Nesz will keep faith with you if you
do the same. Now we must hurry, before the Yuuzhan Vong
realize you are not going to walk into their jaws on your own."
*********************************************
Situated behind a towering bora tree, Prefect Ke'Nass held
a ready razorbug in one hand, his stiffened amphistaff in the other,
and watched through the eyeholes of his mask for the first of the
Imperials to step through the dense foliage.
He could see it all: the first dozen or so Imperials would
burst through and find nothing ahead but a vast and stagnant lake,
the horror on the man's face as he turned back-but where would he
go? Ke'Nass had already ordered the Yuuzhan Vong parties
flanking them to move in and drive the Imperials into the trap, so
there would be nowhere to run to.
Then Ke'Nass and the other ambushers would throw their
razorbugs and attack with whirling amphistaffs.
Humans and Chiss would push forward even as the infidels
ahead of them turned and tried to run from Ke'Nass and the others.
They would be caught between two groups of Yuuzhan Vong,
outnumbered and outmatched. It wouldn't be a victory for the
Vong, but a holy slaughter. Ke'Nass' face twisted in a bloodthirsty
grin as he imagined the terror in the infidels' eyes when he drove
the tail of his amphistaff into the first one's gut.
His bloody fantasies were rudely interrupted when the
villip perched on his shoulder morphed the features of Jentor Ghre,
a leader of a Vong party that should be flanking the Imperials and
herding them into Ke'Nass trap.
"Prefect," the villip said, "Prefect, I have information-"
"Yes, yes, what is it?" Ke'Nass said distractedly, was that
something moving through the foliage?
"The infidels, Prefect they are-"
"Be silent! They may hear you!" Ke'Nass hissed. Yes!
Someone was there, almost within throwing range! His fingers
itched on the razorbug.
"That is just it, Prefect the infidels are-" Now! The first of
the Imperials was in range!
"Do-ro'ik vong pratte!" Ke'Nass roared and jumped out
from behind the tree, throwing the razorbug with all his might. His
target moved, surprisingly quick, but not fast enough. The
razorbug decapitated him clean and Ke'Nass and the others rose up
and charged the beings behind the fallen form, a fountain of blood
spurting from its neck.
The blood-fever was so hot on the Prefect that it was not
until his next victim blocked his amphistaff with one of his own
that he realized it was a Yuuzhan Vong hunting party he had
attacked.
"What is this?" He choked and shoved the Yuuzhan Vong
backwards into his fellows. He heard a warning buzz and caught
his razorbug as it returned to him and let it fasten itself on his
bandolier. "How did you get ahead of the infidels? You will ruin
the trap!" He howled at the shocked warrior before him. The
Vong behind him, halted in their charge, looked at each other in
confusion.
"That is what I am trying to tell you!" Jentor Ghre's villip
shouted in his ear. "The infidels are not here! They have eluded
us!" Ke'Nass twisted his head to face the villip.
"Impossible! You assured me you had them flanked at
every side!"
"They must have-"
"Fool!" He roared and lashed the ground with his
amphistaff until even his fellow Vong backed away from him. He
stumbled, nearly tripped over something and looked down. The
head of the Yuuzhan Vong he killed was at his feet, the sightless
eyes seemed to mock him.
He howled and kicked the head as hard as he could, it flew
over the lake and landed with a plop near the center. How
could this happen? He was made a fool of, his glory stolen-
Then he knew, with a pang of sharp clarity, who was
responsible.
Sang Anor.
Somehow, the Executor had managed to do it to him again,
to frustrate his plans and steal his victory. Well he wouldn't
succeed, not this time. Ke'Nass would cleanse this planet of every
last infidel in spite of the plots of others and the incompetence of
his troops.
"Start backtrailing them! I want every Yuuzhan Vong out
here searching, now! The infidels can't have gotten far!" He gave
the headless body an enraged kick to the side and pushed past the
Vong party that had walked into the trap. "I want them found by
the end of the day!"
"And if we cannot?" Jentor Ghre dared to ask.
"Then we take to the coralskippers and start bombing this
planet until every last tree is burned to the ground." And if Nom
Anor was caught and killed in those bombings, well then so much
the better.
******************************************
Oin was lying to her. Vergere didn?t know what about,
exactly, but she sensed the conflicting emotions swirling around
him through the Force.
She hurried through the grass, thankful for the shielding
cover of the bora trees. She moved as silently as a brown-robed
ghost, and winced at every noise made by the Imperial pilots, who
were clumsy at best in this terrain.
They're not that noisy, she told herself, it's just that I'm
hearing things so much clearer at the moment. Since she could
not sense the Yuuzhan Vong through the Force, she had done the
next best thing: she was using the Force to enhance her own
senses. She could hear the tiniest of insects buzzing and
distinguish each flap of their transparent wings, see the tiny veins
and antennae.
Other than that, she had to rely on their Nesz guides. She'd
had no reservations about that until she had sensed Oin's deceit.
He and Dra were lying to her about something, and she couldn't
confront them about it in front of the Imperials and risk losing
their already shaky trust.
Not now, anyway, not while they were still too near the
Yuuzhan Vong patrols. Once they had reached the relative safety
of the deep marshes she would get Oin aside and speak to him.
She sensed no malice or intent to harm from them, just the deceit
itself.
There were only two Imperials with her, Oin and Dra.
Vergere supposed she was lucky, in a way, as they were the two
Imperials she was most interested in: Stent, the leader of the few
ragged humans and Chiss on this planet, and the young Force-user
whose name, she had learned, was Drash Tevock.
She had not been surprised when Stent had chosen to
accompany her, he as much as told her he would kill her himself if
there was any treachery. Drash was another matter. He had
specifically requested to accompany Stent, but his attention had
been (and still was) bent entirely in her direction. Vergere had no
idea why he had taken an interest in her, perhaps he sensed in her
the same sort of power he himself carried, all unknowing. They
say like calls to like, and the Jedi had often found more than a
germ of truth in the old saying.
They had put some distance between themselves and the
Vong ambush site when Vergere realized Dra and Oin were
guiding them in the wrong direction. The place they had chosen to
rendezvous with the rest of the parties was to the north, they were
veering due south. Stent and Drash, being unfamiliar with the
planet, wouldn't pick up on that, but the Jedi was experienced in
the local geography. She would get Oin alone and talk to him as
soon as Dra called a rest.
The Nesz leader hopped down from a bora tree a few
minutes later. That was the procedure they'd agreed on: two Nesz
to each party, one to stay with the party and guide them, the other
to range ahead, often staying in the trees for a better view.
"We can stop and rest for a few minutes." He said to them
in fairly good Basic. "There are no Yuuzhan Vong nearby and
scouts are on the lookout."
Stent sat on the waist-high root of a bora tree and stretched
his legs. He drank some water from his canteen and fished around
for a ration bar. Dra watched the processed food curiously until
Oin, who had more experience with aliens and their odd ways,
explained what a ration bar was. Dra shook his head in confused
disgust: why put offal like that in your body when the marshes
were full of fish and tasty grubs were under the bark of the trees?
Vergere found herself chuckling, much to her surprise. She
walked toward the two Nesz. Now was as good a time as any to
clear things up.
"Jedi." Vergere spun, mud stained robes swirling around
her, to face Drash Tevock. The pilot must have approached her
while her attention had been focused on the others. I must be
slipping she thought. Drash was watching her with apparent
calm, but there was a frightening intensity behind his dark eyes.
"Yes, Lt. Tevock?" She recovered quickly from her
surprise and folded her arms.
"I want to talk to you about the Yuuzhan Vong," he said
abruptly, "I want to know something about them, and you seem to
know all there is."
"Um, no, not everything," she said, quickly covering her
surprise and assuming the air of unflappable calm that Jedi had
been famous (and infamous) for, "the more technical aspects of
how their creatures are made, for example, and the deepest
mysteries of their religion are available only to initiates-"
"I'm not interested in that." Drash interrupted, and there
was no mistaking the eager tone. "I want to know more about their
fighters, the corralskippers."
Vergere blinked, the direction of the conversation was
taking her by surprise. Silently, she chastised herself, he was a
pilot after all: what else would he want to talk about? "What do
you want to know?"
"When we were first put through the new training sims the
officer in charge said that coralskippers were living things, and
that the pilots bonded to their fighters, effectively making the two
of them one organism. Is that true?" Vergere nodded. "Now tell
me," Drash licked his lips, "does it only work with Yuuzhan Vong,
or will a skip respond to, say, a human?"
"Yuuzhan Vong and humans are structurally similar,"
Vergere answered slowly, "and the coralskippers are highly
adaptive creatures, so I would say yes. Now-"
"Thank you." Drash said absently. "That's all I wanted to
know." There was a strange, distant expression on his face, and
Vergere sensed the mind behind those faraway eyes working
furiously. He probably wasn't even aware he'd interrupted her, so
caught up was he in the awesome idea he had.
As he turned and moved away, looking everywhere and
seeing nothing, Vergere took the opportunity to study him more
closely. She was amazed at how incredibly strong in the Force he
was. Had he been born before the Purges the Jedi Order would
have sensed him immediately and taken him into training as an
infant, if for no other reason than his own protection and that of
everyone around him: it was dangerous when a strong gift in the
Force went untrained.
It was a wonder that the Emperor or Darth Vader didn't
know about him. He made no attempt to shield the dark energy
that surrounded him like a stormcloud, he didn't even know there
was anything to shield. That was the most likely reason why
everyone who got near him instinctively disliked, even feared, the
young man: even normal beings would sense something of his
taint.
Only Vergere was equipped to see the full truth: that he
was an active thermal detonator that could go off at any time.
Drash Tevock was a danger to himself and everyone around him,
and now it seemed Vergere was stuck with him, yet another
responsibility she didn't ask for and, frankly, didn't feel equal to.
Not that the universe would adjust itself to be fair to her, she knew
that from experience by now.
Oin was kneeling beside a pond, dipping his snout in for a
drink, his back was to Stent, who was still resting. Vergere knelt
beside Oin, cupped her hands under the surface and spoke softly
while she mimed bringing water to her mouth.
"Where are you and Dra leading us?"
Oin's tail stiffened slightly, but otherwise he remained a
picture of serenity. Vergere didn't even sense real surprise in him
through the Force: obviously he didn't believe for one instant that
he had fooled her.
"We will reach the rendezvous point on time." He said
when his snout cleared the pool. He stayed down and kept his
nose close to the water, so as not to alert Stent that something was
up.
"What do you think you're doing?" She hissed. "Stent
doesn't trust us. If he suspects he's being betrayed-"
"He wont," Oin assured, "he knows nothing of the marshes,
he might as well be blind. What will it matter which route we
take?" He turned his head up and implored her with his eyes.
"This is important, there is something we must show you."
Vergere began to protest, but somehow the words died in her
throat. She felt Thracia's familiar, feather-light touch in the back
of her mind and knew, somehow, that whatever Oin was taking her
to was part of the path her Master had shown her.
"You should have told me." Was all she said as she got to
her feet.
"You would have asked questions." Oin replied.
"Questions I cannot yet answer." Vergere wanted to ask where
they were going, but knew somehow that this wasn't the time for
answers. Instead, she motioned for Oin to walk beside her and
quickly changed the topic.
"I need you to understand something," she said quietly,
"and for Dra to understand it. Does Dra know what..." she
swallowed "...what Nom Anor told you?"
"No," Oin shook his head, "he believes there is still hope
for the Nesz, that you bring help to drive off the Vong." The
Imperials would destroy the Yuuzhan Vong on this planet,
certainly, and the Nesz along with them.
"There might be hope yet," Vergere confided, "for some of
the Nesz at least. When I learned about the TIE pilots stranded
here I saw an opportunity for you. The Imperials will eventually
attack this planet, but if Thrawn knew some of his people were
stranded here he would undoubtedly try and rescue them. By
helping these pilots survive and fight the Vong garrisoned here, the
Nesz may be able to convince Thrawn to rescue them as well."
"Rescue?" Oin asked.
"He may be persuaded to transport as many Nesz as
possible off the planet before the Imperials raze it and eventually
settle you on another world. He might even find one similar to
this. If Stent and the other Imperials put in a good word for us,
that is."
"That is why I was so eager for this alliance between these
Imperials and the Nesz." She continued. "If we can somehow
contact Thrawn's fleet when it arrives, if he agrees to give the Nesz
sanctuary, and if there is time to gather and transport as many of
your people as possible off the planet." a lot of ifs, there, she
thought. "That is why we must help Stent." She finished.
Unbidden, the dream-vision she'd had while seeking out
Thrawn rose up before her: the planet laid to waste and Oin alone
of all the Nesz left alive. She shoved the vision aside and
concentrated on one of Master Yoda's sayings instead: Always in
motion is the future. There had to be a way to help the Nesz and
stop Sang Anor at the same time. There had to be!
Oin listened, but let none of his dismay show. The Jedi's
heart was in the right place, but her plan wouldn't work. It wasn't
enough for them to have a new home: the Nesz wouldn't be the
beings they were now if they left their planet. Besides, the
Eternals would still perish either way, whether the life-energy of
this world was slowly choked out by Yuuzhan Vong creatures or
obliterated by a fleet of Star Destroyers. Oin and the others
weren't about to let that happen to the beings who had been
parents, guides and protectors to the Nesz since there were
Nesz.
***************************************
"There!" The warrior had no sooner exclaimed than hurled
his razorbug at the top of a bora tree. The other warriors were
instantly on alert, amphistaffs raised in guard positions.
"What is it?" Nom Anor snapped as he tracked the path of
the razorbug with his eyes. The trasedak's antennae were vibrating
with an intensity that made them blurry to the eye, a sure sign that
the quarry was close.
"I saw something," the razorbug spun back into his
gauntlet-covered hand, "there." The talon-tipped finger pointed to
the treetop.
"The Jedi?" Nom Anor asked quickly.
"Looked like one of the slaves." The warrior answered.
"But you said they are helping the Jedi."
"Did you kill it?" Nom Anor asked quickly.
"No."
"Damn!" Nom Anor made the trasedak retract its antennae.
"Hurry! It will warn the Jedi!" He bolted through high grass, the
other Vong following on his heels.
***************************************
"You two certainly are talkative." Stent's stern but cultured
tone made them both turn in his direction. "Is anything wrong?"
"No," Vergere said smoothly, "I was just telling Oin some
of my adventures back in the days of the Old Republic." She
smiled. "I'd be glad to trade anecdotes with you, Commander, if
you're interested."
"No, I don't think so." Was Stent's curt reply, his glowing
eyes moving from Jedi to Nesz.
"Well, perhaps later then-" Vergere was stopped in mid-
sentence by a sound from the trees, a second later a Nesz scout
dropped to the ground and turned to Dra.
"Yuuzhan Vong are coming! Seven of them!" He hissed in
the Nesz language.
"The Vong!" Vergere said in Basic for the benefit of Stent
and Drash. "Go!" She motioned for Dra and Oin to lead the way.
"Follow them!" She said to the pilots.
"What about you?" Oin asked urgently.
"I'll follow," she said, "but if the Vong catch up," she hefted
her lightsaber, I'll be the first one they meet."
They ran through the grass with Dra and the scout leading
and the Imperials a few steps behind. Vergere followed a few
paces behind, her heightened senses directed at the area behind
them.
She heard the sounds of fast but stealthy beings moving
through the grass, then a low buzzing in the humid air. Vergere
whirled, lightsaber burning to violet life, and bisected the
razorbug. Seven black-armored Yuuzhan Vong were bounding
forward, they were almost on top of them.
Vergere narrowed her eyes. Seven of them, not good odds,
but she had to buy time for the others. She held her lightsaber in a
guard position, braced herself, and charged them.
She met the first Vong with a whirling slash of violet fire.
He blocked her blade with the tail-end of his amphistaff, but not
the spinning kick she delivered to the side of his head, knocking
him to the ground. She didn't pause, but continued her rush into
the rest of the Yuuzhan Vong.
A Vong tried to spear her and the Jedi leapt over him, using
her own race's natural agility and amplifying it through the Force.
Spinning in midair, she kicked him hard in the back before
landing, then ducked to avoid another swinging amphistaff. She
stabbed upward with her lightsaber, aiming for the joints in the
armor that she knew by long experience were the only weaknesses
in the living encasements.
The lightsaber's blade slid along the armored forearm to
the right elbow, where it penetrated. She twisted her wrist and
kicked the warrior in the abdomen at the same time, the impact
shoved him backward and severed his right arm from the elbow
down at the same time. The arm dropped to the ground, the
distressed amphistaff still in the clasped hand.
Embracing the pain, the warrior didn't acknowledge the
cauterized stump but rather pulled his coufee from his belt and
attacked. Vergere jumped and swung her lightsaber again, and the
warrior was just a little too slow to dodge. The blade struck where
the Vong's masked helm met neck and neatly decapitated him.
One down, Vergere jumped over the headless body,
dodging the amphistaff that lashed angrily in the nearby severed
arm's hand, six to go. Even now the first one she had knocked
down had bounded to his feet.
The Yuuzhan Vong had moved to surround her, and as one
they charged. The air sang with the whirl of amphistaffs and
burned with the lightsaber's fire. Vergere executed move after
move, flowing with eye-blinding speed, but there were just too
many of them. She struck aside an amphistaff with such force that
sparks flew from the impact and the serpent was cut in half, then
ducked and rolled to avoid attacks from behind and either side.
Blade-sharp snake tails stabbed down at her as she rolled,
one caught her robe but the poorly-used garment tore instead of
holding her pinned. She got her feet under her and slashed at the
Yuuzhan Vong who'd tried to stab her, now occupied with prying
his amphistaff's tail out of the ground.
The snake head turned flexible and spat venom at her, she
dodged and the poison flew over her shoulder. Thinking quickly,
the Jedi adjusted her swing and struck the head off the amphistaff
before it could harden again. His weapon now limp and lifeless,
the warrior reached for his coufee, but not before Vergere, by now
running purely on adrenalin and the Force, stabbed with her Jedi
weapon up into the Vong's armpits. She shoved the point of the
burning blade deeper, into the heart itself. The warrior died
instantly.
"Jedi!" The voice and blazing eyes were all too familiar.
Nom Anor leapt over the falling warrior and swung his amphistaff,
Vergere parried and jumped backward...into the Yuuzhan Vong
who had circled to attack her from behind. The Force did not alert
her to the attack, of course, or the gauntlet-covered fist that struck
the back of her head.
She was lucky the punch was only a glancing blow and
Didn't kill her instead of merely leaving her stunned, lucky it was
the warrior whose staff she had cut in half earlier, else he would
have stabbed her. But her luck ran out when the tail of Nom
Anor's amphistaff impaled her stomach.
The next instant she was lying on her back, with the dark
shape of Nom Anor standing over her. With her eyes she followed
the body of the amphistaff he held until it reached and buried itself
in her body, pinning her to the ground.
"So," Nom Anor pulled his helmet off with one hand and
let it drop to the ground, "it ends now." He had been escalated
since they'd last met: his face was broken along one side and
scarred along the other, tattoos swirled along his face and down his
neck. "Anything to say before you die, Jedi?" He braced his foot
on her chest and pulled the amphistaff out of her with a cruel twist.
She watched, transfixed, as a small fountain of blood
spurted from her stomach and stained her robe. Distantly, she felt
the Force tell her she might survive if she got immediate treatment.
Not a likely prospect.
She wrenched her gaze away from the growing stain of her
life blood and looked to Nom Anor, who spun the amphistaff over
his head. At least I bought some time for the others she thought.
Master Thracia, I will join you at last, you and all the others who
fell. The razor edge of Nom Anor?s staff descended for a killing
stroke...
And a heavy, reptilian body crashed into Nom Anor and
bore him to the ground. The other four surviving Vong spun
around and moved to spread out, but one was too slow to avoid a
blaster bolt to the chest at close range. The vonduun shell armor
held for a fraction of a second before melting and letting the
killing energy into the Vong's vital organs. The warrior dropped
like a stone.
Vergere shivered at the wave of dark side energy that
seemed to wash over everything like a tide of raw sewage. She
glanced up as the shooter, Drash Tevock, plowed into the Yuuzhan
Vong, an expression of savage glee twisting his face into a
Demon's mask.
There are some beings, Masters Yoda or Mace Windu for
instance, who shone in the Force with a pure, brilliant light for
those who were Force sensitive to see. Drash had that right now,
only he didn't shine.
He burned!
A fire raging out of control, destroying all in its path, that
was how Tevock appeared in Vergere's eyes.
"Do-ro'ik vong pratte!" A warrior screamed as he rushed
Drash, but the Imperial pilot was moving with preternatural speed,
unknowingly using the dark side to enhanced his speed and
strength to horrifying degrees. His blaster was dry, so he dropped
it and charged with only his bare hands. The Vong swung his
amphistaff to disembowel, and Drash caught the serpent just
behind the head. The Yuuzhan Vong found himself wrestling for
possession of his own amphistaff!
The Vong tried to brace himself but Drash's forward shove
knocked him backwards to the ground, leaving the amphistaff in
Drash's grip. The serpent turned flexible and lashed at the human,
but Drash simply twisted the snake's head to break its neck.
The Yuuzhan Vong was on his feet in an instant, coufee in
hand. He stabbed but caught only the edge of the Imperial's worn-
out shirt as Drash continued his berserker attack, delivering a
succession of punches to the warrior's body. The Vong was forced
backward, Drash's knuckles bled, and the vonduun shell over the
warrior's abdomen...cracked.
Vergere gasped when the reptilian claw gripped her
shoulder, then Oin was leaning over her, slit-eyes intense. "Can
you move?" He asked quickly as he pressed a fold of her robe over
the bleeding wound. "Can you walk?"
Narrowing her eyes, the Jedi focused her attention inward
instead of at the world around her. She stretched her feet, made
her toes curl and uncurl to confirm what her senses told her: the
amphistaff had missed her spine, she could walk. "Yes," she
nodded weakly, Oin wasted no time in getting her gently but
quickly to her feet.
"Hurry, we have to hurry," Oin muttered as he practically
carried her away from the fighting. Vergere drew on the Force for
strength and helped by walking as best she could, one hand was
pressed against her abdomen to help the robe staunch the wound,
the other arm was slung around Oin's long neck. She opened her
free hand and the lightsaber flew into her grip.
For the first time, she looked away from Drash and sought
out the other Yuuzhan Vong. Dra had surprised one of the
warriors and jumped on his armored back from behind, powerful
Nesz jaws were clamped on the Vong's head. Dra strained to
overcome the vonduun shell while using his arms to fend off the
warrior's amphistaff. So far the serpent hadn't bit him, but the
Vong was clawing like mad at the Nesz on his back.
Vergere's attention was diverted from the fight when the
final warrior, this one slightly smaller than the other Yuuzhan
Vong, appeared in front of her and Oin. The whirling amphistaff
stabbed at Oin, who tried to dodge while supporting Vergere's
awkward weight. The Jedi acted without thought, switching her
lightsaber to life and knocking aside an attack that would have
taken Oin's legs out from under him.
Vergere sucked in breath and held the robe tighter over her
wound, it had taken all her strength to block the Vong's strike,
which had nearly tore the lightsaber from her hand, and even now
the warrior drew back to strike again, moving with sinuous grace.
The Jedi knew she would not be able to keep hold of her weapon.
The Vong closed in - and was struck by a blaster bolt to the
shoulder that spun the warrior around. Stent fired again, this time
catching the warrior in the upper abdomen. The force knocked his
opponent backwards to crash on the ground. The Chiss was too far
away to actually penetrate the vonduun shell armor with his blaster
shots, but he could and did knock the warrior back down with the
force of the blasts whenever the barbarian tried to move.
"Come on!" Stent barked, eyes glowing furiously as
Vergere and Oin hurried past him.
"I told you to go on without me." She told the Chiss
angrily. Stent backed away from the fighting as well, keeping pace
with them.
"I would have," he said shortly, "but the natives refused to
leave without you."
Dra had succeeded: with a loud crack the Yuuzhan
Vong's helmet broke in the Nesz's mouth. The Nesz leader felt his
teeth sink into skin and tangle in hair, he bit down all the harder.
The Vong's skull cracked much more easily than the helmet that
encased it had, and the invader dropped, dead weight.
Dra jumped off the dead alien's back and ran toward his
allies, spitting out foul-tasting stuff all the way.
"Lt. Tevock, come on!" Stent ordered as he squeezed off
another shot at the smaller Vong. Drash wasn't concerned with his
superior's orders, though, and executed a spinning back-kick that
sent the warrior to the ground. Drash kept the attack up, landing
punches and kicks on the unmoving Yuuzhan Vong.
Then Nom Anor was rising out of the tall grass, holding the
broken body of the Nesz scout who had attacked him. He threw
the body aside, took up his amphistaff and rushed at Drash. The
Imperial whirled to meet him, holding the beaten Vong's coufee in
one hand.
The smaller Vong bounded up again, but this time charging
at Drash instead of the Jedi. The Imperial laughed as the both
converged on him.
Stent checked his blaster. "Low on power," he muttered as
Dra caught up with them, "all right, let's move!" With Dra leading
the way, the four fugitives ran deeper into the marsh.
"No," Vergere tried to look back, "we can't leave Tevock!"
He was deep in the dark side, but he still had a chance, could still
be redeemed, there were too few Force-strong beings left in the
galaxy to let even one perish.
"He's buying us time." Stent said.
Vergere tried to protest further, but could feel the strength
draining out of her as her body instinctively began putting her into
a healing trance. She turned her head once more to get a last look
at the Imperial pilot, and only now noticed that the robe over her
lower back was dark with blood. Nom Anor's amphistaff had gone
all the way through her body.
Like pinning an insect's wings was her last thought
before the world went black. Her lightsaber dropped from
nerveless fingers, but Oin caught the weapon before it could hit the
ground.
***************************************
Nom Anor lashed his amphistaff like a whip and caught the
human's knife-arm in its coils. He yanked the infidel's arm
downward and aimed a side-kick at his head.
Laughing, Drash ducked the kick and tried to charge Nom
Anor, but another amphistaff whipped around his legs and pulled
his feet out from under him. Drash fell on his face, pushed himself
up, and got a forearm-blow to the face from Nom Anor, followed
by a kick to the midsection that knocked the wind out of him.
Finally, Nom Anor was able to deliver a chop to the back of the
Human's neck, cutting the force of the blow at the last instant to
stun instead of kill.
Breathing hard, Nom Anor stared at the now-senseless
berserker who had, with his bare hands, nearly torn apart a
Yuuzhan Vong warrior in full armor.
A shadow crossed the Imperial. Nom Anor spun,
amphistaff raised in a guard position, to face Ceis Grasm. The
subaltern held her amphistaff ready also. They watched one
another for a moment and Nom Anor wondered if she would make
her move now to ensure that he would not return from this
mission.
Apparently not, as she relaxed and bade the amphistaff curl
around her arm. Nom Anor did likewise. Ceis Grasm loosened
her helmet and pulled it off, then looked down at the stunned
Imperial.
"I didn't know infidels could fight like that."
Nom Anor was glad she was looking downward, so she
didn't see the breath catch in his throat. He had never seen her
unmasked before; and she was stunning.
Her hair was the color of the void behind the stars, the
tresses were greased and stuck close to her skull now, which was
better for the helmet, but would be rich and lustrous when let free.
Her facial bones had been broken and remade until not a hint of
symmetry remained in her visage.
Tattooed symbols followed the contours of her face, traced
the crooked, off-center nose and enhanced full lips already
accessorised by numerous scars.
"Yes," he shook his head, reminding himself of who she
was and why she was here, "do you still see no chance for glory
here, subaltern?" He allowed a trace of mockery to color his tone.
Ceis Grasm stiffened slightly and fixed Nom Anor with a
cold stare. A week ago, he would have lowered his eyes instantly.
A week ago he would not have been able to speak to her at all in
such a tone. It was not a week ago, and Nom Anor returned the
pointed glare with one of his own, unconsciously aping an
expression his father often used to quell subordinates.
A trace of uncertainty appeared in Ceis Grasm's eyes, and
Nom Anor had the satisfaction of seeing a flush spread up her neck
and across her face. The female swallowed, but didn't look away
as she donned her mask again.
Nom Anor was surprised to feel the bite of disappointment
on seeing her face covered again, while a mischievous part of him
wondered at what kinds of markings adorned the body encased by
the vonduun armor, and just how far down that flush went...
A low groan broke the his concentration. Both turned to
regard the warrior the human had so badly beaten stumble to his
feet with the aid of his amphistaff, using the serpent like a cane.
He shook his head, saw the helpless Imperial and staggered
towards him, a low growl built in his throat.
"Hold!" Nom Anor's amphistaff went rigid on command
and the young Vong leveled the tail at the advancing warrior. The
man came to a reluctant halt, shaking with fury. "This human
fought with Yun Yammka's own heart, it would be a dishonor for
him to die here." He turned the Imperial over with his foot, and his
eyes widened when he saw the man's face clearly.
"I know this Imperial," he said, "or at least, I've met him
before." He noticed the other two Vong staring at him and smirked
a little. He narrowed his eyes. "I spared his life once as well."
"He cost us the Jedi you want so badly." The warrior
snarled.
Nom Anor narrowed his eyes. "A delay, no more; she is
wounded." A predator's smile twisted his face. "She will not get
far." He glanced at the warrior. "You are in no condition to track
her."
"A few bruises," he said dismissivly.
"Your ribs are broken." Nom Anor eyed the man's side.
"No heathen can harm a Yuuzhan Vong!" The warrior
drew himself up, disregarding the pain and clearly intent on going
on. "I am able to walk."
"Then take this Imperial and go find the nearest party of
Yuuzhan Vong." Nom Anor snapped. "That is an order." He bent
down to retrieve his masked helmet, made to put it on, then
changed his mind and tossed it on the Imperial's chest. "And take
that with you." He said. "I will kill the Jedi with my face bare."
"Have him taken to the temple." Nom Anor continued.
"And tell them they would be wise to keep him unconscious until
he reaches his destination." He turned away from the wounded
man and looked toward Ceis Grasm, who was watching him in
return, whatever expression she might have was once more hidden
by the mask. His would-be assassin, an enemy's blade, aimed at
his heart. "The subaltern and I will track the Jedi on our own."
Ceis Grasm narrowed her eyes at the challenge in his tone.
Nom Anor saw a kind of respect in her gaze as she inclined her
head in agreement.
***************************************
"Are you awake yet?"
The voice snapped Drash back into consciousness, but he
didn't allow his eyes to open. Bright light above him, he could see
it through his closed eyelids. He lay flat on his back on a cool,
smooth surface. Instinctively, he continued to feign
unconsciousness. He felt nothing of the stifling humidity and
insect buzzing he associated with the swamp. He was indoors,
then.
Where was he? What had happened? The last thing he
remembered was running from the Yuuzhan Vong while the Jedi
covered their retreat. He remembered feeling excitement, but no
fear. Then disappointment when he understood he would not be
taking part in the fight.
No, wait, the natives had refused to lead them, had gone
back for the Jedi, forcing Stent to follow. He remembered feeling,
hearing, smelling the fighting ahead. Then something had stirred,
something dark and deadly coiled within him, brought to rabid
wakefulness by the sheer fight-or-flight rush of adrenaline.
What happened afterward was a blur of sounds and images,
terrible, violent and yet exhilarating. Yes, he had...what had he
done anyway?
However it had turned out, it didn't look good, but seeing
as he was undoubtedly a prisoner of the Yuuzhan Vong it was a
wonder he was still alive.
He remained still and tried to slow his rapid heartbeat, keep
his breathing normal. It wasn't easy. He felt dulled, numb, he
could get no sense of his surroundings the way he'd always been
able to. Nothing but blank, empty space around him, like being in
a sensory-depravation chamber.
Calm, calm,he concentrated, and it was as though his
hearing intensified to preternatural levels. The speaker stood near
him by the sound of his voice, bare feet stirred slightly on the
polished floor. Drash didn't seem to be restrained in any way.
Cautiously, he opened his eyes a crack. He was just adjusting to
the bright light when he felt the serpent prod his arm.
He bounded to his feet with a cry of shock in his throat.
The Imperial spun, dropping into a defensive crouch, and took in
his surroundings at a glance.
A big, single room, like a receiving hall but bare of
furniture. The light came from a swarm of insects that crawled
and flew about the high ceiling, their myriad glowing bodies
revealed the living chamber of black coral in all its somber
majesty. The floor was polished mirror-smooth and shiny, the
vaulted ceiling was supported by ornately carved pillars of corral.
The room was dominated by a towering, massive statue of living
coral at the far end of the hall, grown in the image of a hideous
humanoid sitting on a throne of skulls.
Drash saw all that, but it was secondary. Most of his
attention was focused on the speaker.
The Yuuzhan Vong stood a few paces distant. He was tall,
thin even by the standards of the Vong, and obviously in advanced
age. Horrible burns covered his body, and his eyes...Drash shrank
away...he had no eyes, just empty sockets.
The ghoul wore a semitransparent garment resembling a
robe. A robe crisscrossed with blue veins. The fringes bristled
with hairlike feelers, some short, some long, and all moving like a
thousand antennae. It held the tail-end of a long amphistaff in one
skeletal hand, the snake's wedge-shaped head slithered around in
front of the Vong's bare feet. The forked tongue licked out and
Drash flinched.
"Ah, as I thought," the old Vong smiled, revealing a healthy
set of sharp teeth, he spoke Basic with only a slight accent, "awake
at last, and ready to begin your new life."
"Where the hell am I?" Drash's eyes darted around the vast
room, trying to peer into every shadow. Was it just the two of
them here? He couldn't tell. Normally he knew instantly how
many people were around him, but he got no feel for this place at
all!
"You are in the temple of Yun Yammka. I am Krelt, a
priest of the Slayer." The old one's voice was deep and full of
power, at odds with his obviously frail body. "You have been
brought here because the warriors believe you may be worthy."
"Worthy as what?" Drash didn't recognize the hoarse voice
as his own. He looked around for a weapon. Nothing of course:
they had taken everything but the clothes on his back. Even his
boots were gone. He shifted his bare feet on the cold floor and
noticed there were scars on his knuckles. Had they been bleeding?
"As a sacrifice, possibly." Krelt answered, facing Drash's
general direction. He took a few steps forward with the amphistaff
slithering on the ground before his feet. Drash might have risked
attacking the old priest if it wasn't for that staff: the snake watched
him with cold, alert eyes, he had no doubt at all it would be ready
if he tried an assault on its master. "But if you show yourself truly
worthy of Yun Yammka then a much higher destiny awaits you."
Drash felt the blood retreat from his face and it seemed a
layer of ice coated his skin. This all seemed familiar.
Familiar...and terrible. "What are you saying?" He found himself
backed against a pillar by the approaching priest, pressed against
the coral column with nowhere else to go.
"There is no need for fear." It was not Krelt's voice than
answered but another speaker, standing in the shadow of a pillar.
"It will only blind you to the truth."
Drash turned his head in the speaker's direction. The
glowing red eyes that speared him from the shadows confirmed
what the musical voice had suggested. A Chiss stepped into the
light.
And yet it was not a Chiss. Oh, it was humanoid in shape,
with blue skin and red eyes, but there the similarity with Thrawn's
race ended. The Chiss was thinner than any other specimen he'd
seen before. Drash's first though was that the Vong had starved
the other prisoner, but the emaciated body moved with strength
and grace that suggested no unhealthiness.
He was naked except for a loincloth around his waist, so
Drash could clearly see the alien's body was covered in tattoos,
swirling shapes and alien symbols burned into his blue flesh, as
well as a number of ugly scars. The Chiss' nose had been broken
and badly reset, and when he opened his mouth he revealed sharp,
white fangs.
"This is Wras." Krelt turned his blind face to the Chiss.
"He is an initiate into our ways, as you may be." Drash could say
nothing, only follow Wras with his eyes the same way he watched
the amphistaff. The Chiss crossed the room to stand at Krelt's side
and spoke to Drash.
"I was like you, once." Wras said. "In my ignorance I
fought them when I first came here. Now I know better." He
turned to Krelt and took the priest?s free hand. Reverently, he
pressed the back of the burned hand to his blue forehead. "He
showed me the truth, as he will now show you, but you must
accept and embrace it of your own will." The Chiss' fingers ended
in hooked claws. He turned to Drash, and the pilot saw the
fanatical fire in those intense, red eyes.
"Yeah," Drash choked, "I think I have time for a sermon,
just don't expect any donations." He tried to grin at Wras, but the
expression on his face was one of pure horror. "The Empire's pay
isn't too hot, he can tell you that."
"You have nothing to worry about." Krelt smiled. "Yun
Yammka's tribute comes from your flesh, not your purse." With
Wras beside him, he took another step toward the human. "And
our sermons involve action, not words." He touched the bluish
sack below one eye socket.
"Yun Yammka is a demanding master, and sacrifices must
be made." He turned his face toward the monstrous statue, the
light from the lumin bugs made its face seem to writhe. "In my
youth I failed to understand that, and so I dug out my eyes to better
see the truth." Drash turned white. "Your first lesson begins now.
Ready the Embrace of Pain."
Drash opened his mouth to ask what that was, but there was
no need. In response to Krelt's words something began to
unfold from the far wall.
"In the Embrace," Wras said, "you will take your first step
to finding the gods."
That was enough to break the frail facade of calm Drash
had tried to put up and drown him in a flood of raw terror. Now he
knew where he really was, why this seemed so familiar: he was
back in the commune again, back with Frae who was determined
to purify the little children no matter the cost. The faces were
different, the names were different, but that was all.
Drash screamed and pushed away from the pillar. He ran,
bare feet thumping on the floor, not knowing where he was
running to, just running as a little boy had once run when Frae had
decided he must be punished for some slight or even imagined
transgression. The old man's voice I do this out of love echoed
in Drash's skull in the sad, regretful tone that meant something
truly terrible indeed was in store for him.
Wras caught him before he had taken a dozen steps. The
Chiss wrapped his long arms around Drash and hauled him back to
the Embrace with hideous, unnatural strength. Drash screamed
again. Every step toward the Embrace of Pain was a step back in
time, to the shocklash across a little boy's naked back, to the cold
water and the boiling, to days on end without food or water until
he would beg for a scrap of garbage.
Panic made him thrash and writhe Wras' grip, even though
he knew he wouldn't get away. Had he ever really believed he'd
escaped from Zeser Frae? No, not really, not in his bones, not in
his soul. His life since the Empire had recruited him had been a
dream. A fantasy. He had always been in the commune, and he
always would be.
"We do this to help you." Wras said to him, and Drash only
screamed the all louder. The Embrace of Pain stretched its long
limbs toward him, and his screams were the screams of a child
caught in a nightmare from which he would never awaken.
(major characters in Clash of Fates I @ II)
Imperial forces-
Thrawn; Grand Admiral (Chiss male)
Voss Parck; captain (human male)
Dagon Niriz; moff (human male)
Fanis Veenir; commander (human male)
Beyin; general (Chiss male) *
Stent; pilot (Chiss male)
Drash Tevock; pilot (human male)
Yuuzhan Vong forces-
Sang Anor; Executor (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Ke'Nass; Prefect (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Nom Anor; feenir (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Ceis Grasm; subaltern (Yuuzhan Vong female)
Hren Silra; covert operative (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Kei Rascer; overseer (Yuuzhan Vong female)
Krelt; priest (Yuuzhan Vong male)
Wras; initiate (Chiss male)
Coerl; warlord (Jrukto male)
Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet-
Vraet; Syndic (Chiss male) *
Taesk; Syndic (Chiss male) *
Raine; commander (Chiss female) *
Jedi-
Vergere (Fosh female)
Nesz-
Oin; hunter (Nesz male)
Dra; lead hunter (Nesz male)
Vlu; elder (Nesz male)
* = has not appeared as of this chapter
Chapter 8
"This is it." Nom Anor paced around the bank, eyes fixed
on the half-sunken escape pod that jutted from the stagnant pool.
"How can you be so sure?" Ceis Grasm asked. Like Nom
Anor and the other five Yuuzhan Vong, the subaltern was girded in
vonduun shell armor and held a ridged amphistaff in one hand.
"The machine ship had dozens of escape pods, and launched all of
them into the atmosphere as it detonated."
"I have seen the intelligence regarding the battle." Nom
Anor answered easily. During the battle the Vong sensors, on the
ground, in orbit disguised as meteorites and on the coralskippers
themselves, had absorbed the events around them so the
information could be stored in and sorted by villips for easy
access.
"This pod altered the vector of decent several times to land
in this particular spot: a remote area outside our control. Also the
pod itself is virtually undamaged." He prodded the ground with
the tail of his amphistaff. "This is where the Jedi disembarked."
"A fine analysis, but you overlook one thing," Ceis Grasm
spoke in a voice that managed to be businesslike and patronizing at
the same time, "the machine is upside-down with all its weight on
the submerged hatch. How could they get out?" The female
Vong's tone dripped with false respect, making Nom Anor bristle.
Clearly she thought him no more that a half-trained boy, and
certainly she resented being put under the younger Vong's
command. The subaltern was no more than five years his senior,
but she had been raised from the feenir stage at an earlier age.
"She manipulated the Force," Nom Anor responded
promptly, "to move the pod to its current position after she made
her egress, probably to make this an unlikely-seeming landing spot
and fool search teams." like this one hanging unspoken. "You
are dealing with a Jedi, subaltern, and I feel you lack experience
in their ways." Nom Anor showed none of the satisfaction he felt
on seeing Ceis Grasm's eyes flash with anger before she could
hood them.
Not that it would've mattered if he had evidenced
satisfaction: nothing of their expressions could be seen behind the
masked helms.
Truthfully, any annoyance with the warriors was minor
indeed compared to the thrill of at last closing in on the Jedi. He
flexed his hand and unsheathed the sharp claws in his gauntlet's
fingertips, imagining tearing into Vergere?s feathery hide. "Now
we must hurry, she has enough of a head-start as it is." He reached
into a pocket in his bandolier and withdrew a single, soft feather.
It and others like it had been preserved by Sang Anor for the past
three years for just such an occasion.
He then raised his forearm to regard the trasedak attached
to it, the hooks on its short legs locked into his armor's minuscule
ridges. Nom Anor gently stroked the segmented body until the
trasedak extended two long, sensitive antennae and began waving
them about, probing the environment.
Nom Anor waved the feather slowly in front of the sensors
until the antennae stopped the directionless motions and instead
pointed directly at the piece of Vergere's plumage. The Vong
tucked it back into his bandolier and pointed his arm at the ground.
The trasedak had resumed its probing once the feather had been
taken away, but as Nom Anor paced along the bank the antennae
suddenly went ridged again, pointing at a spot at the edge of the
bank. A tight smile twisted the face beneath the mask as he slowly
turned, the antennae never losing their lock on the specific
chemical traces that matched the feather. Trasedaks were
incredible trackers in their natural state, and Yuuzhan Vong
Shapers had enhanced those traits in them to an astonishing
degree. Larger breeds of trasedaks were even used in warships to
pick out and track a specific machine-ship's ion trail.
And of course they all turned neuter once they reached
maturity, so that not even the scent of another trasedak during
mating season could distract them from their quarry.
"The Jedi went deeper into the swamp," Nom Anor said,
"probably to meet with native help."
"She will be disappointed." one warrior asserted. "We have
been hunting them for weeks, there can't be that many who aren't
slaves or dead."
"We shall see. But be on your guard, the Jedi might have
help."
"I will report our progress to the Prefect." Ceis Grasm
turned to a small villip mounted on her shoulder.
"Yes." Nom Anor spared the dutiful subaltern a glance,
and wondered when she would try and kill him.
Of course knew the Ceis Grasm's true purpose, had known
it the instant Ke'Nass had presented her: the Prefect was a fool,
and never more transparent than when he tried to be clever. The
only question was when and in what method the assassination
would come. He would have to watch and be ready.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, calmly
assessing the threat she posed to him. The subaltern was shorter
than him by half a head and not nearly as broad of shoulder. In
terms of simple, brute strength he guessed he would have the
advantage. He didn't let himself become overconfident, though:
years of study under Sang Anor had taught the young Vong to look
beyond appearances. Ke'Nass wasn't a complete idiot, he wouldn't
have chosen her if he wasn't sure she was up to the task, and while
it was true that fewer females than males succeeded as warriors,
the females that did were usually twice as good as the males.
A thought crossed his mind: had Sang Anor known he
would be put in this position? Yes, now that Nom Anor thought
about it, he believed so. Sang Anor was clever, and he knew
Ke'Nass well, was more than capable of predicting what the
Prefect's reaction to Nom Anor would be.
It didn't matter. This was just one more trial to overcome,
he would succeed and be escalated in the eyes of the gods, or he
would fail and die. It was the way of the Yuuzhan Vong. He
didn't fault his father for putting him in this position, it was to be
expected: the ways of the Yuuzhan Vong did not make for a gentle
people. They did not coddle their young, one had to prove oneself
worthy to grow and prosper.
This was why the Yuuzhan Vong were so much greater
than the other races of the universe, and only the strong would
have a place in the society the Vong would make in this galaxy.
"This way." They started into the marshes.
*************************************************
"No!" Was Stent's instant and furious response. "Out of
the question!"
"You don't have any other option." Vergere pressed.
"Parties of Yuuzhan Vong are flanking you on every side. They're
holding position only because they expect you to walk into their
ambush, but it's only a matter of time before they get suspicious
and attack. The only way through their net is to follow Dra's plan:
divide yourselves into small groups, say about five each, and let
the Nesz guide you out of this trap."
"If we do that the Vong would be able to pick us off one by
one." Stent snapped. "Besides, we only have a handful of com
links so the parties wont be able to communicate. We stay
together." The Chiss said with cold finality.
It was all Vergere could do not to roll her eyes. It was as
bad as she'd thought it would be. The arrogant humans and
aristocratic Chiss were determined to be the ones giving the orders,
convinced of their innate superiority. Stent wanted the Imperials
to attack the Yuuzhan Vong flanking them, or better yet engage the
ambushers ahead, which would only get them all killed. His
obvious disdain for the 'savages,' both Yuuzhan Vong and Nesz,
was starting to grate on her. Perhaps Dra was right, she should
leave these people to their own devices, at least they would keep
the Yuuzhan Vong busy.
But no, she reconsidered, glancing at the Imperials on
guard around them. Stent had stationed about half of them in a
rough circle inside of which the others sat, crouched or leaned
against bora trees, but even the ones at rest were alert and kept
their weapons ready. Whatever else they were, they were also
trained soldiers, which was something she and the Nesz needed.
The Imperials needed the Nesz and their familiarity with this
world more, though, the trouble was in making the offworlders
admit it.
Besides, as a Jedi she was bound to do her best to defend
their lives as well. They might serve the Empire, but they were
also frightened and far from home. She could empathize with
many of them. Except for one human in particular: an ordinary-
looking pilot standing near one of the bora trees. He was the only
pilot who seemed totally unconcerned with finding a Nesz arrow
suddenly sprouting from some part of his body. Of course he
wasn't worried, he would sense any attack by the Nesz through the
Force before it could happen.
Sensing a Force-strong individual among the Imperials had
been a surprise for Vergere, and the taint of the dark side she felt
emanating from him had been like an electric shock to the Jedi.
There was no question about it when she looked at the
world through the Force, not at the physical universe but at the
boundless ocean of life-energy around them. The energy flowed
around them all, connecting her, the Nesz and the Imperials
together. Waves and eddies of life-force seemed to swirl around
them, the different emotions giving each wave a new 'flavor.'
Living beings like herself, Oin and Stent appeared as bright,
starlike focal points of energy shining with life, giving off emotion
and power into the Force. The young man by the tree was like an
oozing sore, spilling out darkness like a leak in a canister of toxic
waste.
But the most amazing thing of all was that, unbelievable as
it might seem, the young man had no idea he was using the Force
at all!
But never mind that. She would turn her attention to this
unexpected development after she had dealt with the more
immediate problems, so she promised herself as she turned her
attention to the rest of the Imperial pilots.
The few divisions that had existed between the human and
Chiss pilots seemed to have evaporated on their trek through the
marshes. Humans and Chiss sat together, spoke quietly to one
another, checked each other's wounds and helped repair and clean
each other's weapons. Many even sat back-to-back in case of
trouble. The Yuuzhan Vong had done what dozens of Imperial
regulations couldn't: made these two insufferably arrogant races
get along.
The problem was, even if the Imperial humans and Chiss
had come to respect each other, they were still disdainful of the
Nesz, and unaware of how ridiculous the superior demeanor they
put forward looked.
The Imperial pilots were a pathetic sight, grimy and
sweating from the humidity and heat that was so comfortable to
the cold-blooded Nesz but not nearly as friendly to mammalian life
forms like humans and Chiss. Many were covered with insect
bites that itched horribly and scratches from spiny plants that
ripped through the cloth under their discarded flight suits. More
than a few were sopping wet from falling into the bogs and barely
getting fished out in time, losing or ruining most of their supplies
in the process.
The Chiss were too proud to scratch their bug bites in
public, but the Jedi could feel their discomfort. The pilots didn't
have much in the way medical supplies, only the survival kits that
were packed in the fighters, and they were running short.
Doubtless they were now very grateful for the immunizations
They'd received in the fleet that kept the worst of any unfamiliar
pathogens from them.
But they were still weary and worn out. They were well-
trained, but they were pilots, not infantry, and this terrain was
wearing them down.
Dra and Oin sat on either side of her, facing Stent and a
human pilot, the only two Imperial officers to have survived up till
now. The Nesz were impressed by the weaponry and discipline of
the Imperials, but weren?t in awe of them. This aggravated Stent,
who seemed to think the small reptilians should grovel at the sight
of the Imperials.
"We are running out of time," Vergere repeated, "you must
divide up and follow the Nesz, they will guide you out of this net.
We can all meet up again deeper in the marshes and plan our next
move, but we must act now!"
"And put my men in your trust, Jedi?" Stent replied tersely.
He spoke to her, not the Nesz. Indeed, he talked about the natives
as if they weren't even there. "We would be completely in your
power, those reptiles could kill us all easily if we split up."
Vergere narrowed her eyes. "The Nesz have had bad
experienced with offworlders, Stent. They would feel safer if they
had the upper hand."
"I've little reason to trust you." The Chiss snapped.
"Maybe this is all just a trick to divide us, so your pets can kill us
off and take our weapons and equipment." Stent turned his
glowing gaze on the two Nesz, appraising them as though they
were pieces of furniture. "Besides, what if these animals decide to
turn on us without you to keep them under control?" Dra stirred
angrily and Oin fisted his claws.
"You are mistaken." Vergere replied in a level voice, but
with a sharp edge to it. "The Nesz are not mine to command. Dra
here is the leader of his people, and he has given me permission to
speak to you on his behalf because of my knowledge of
offworlders and skill with Basic, but the final decision to even
provide you aid will be his."
Stent's eyebrows raised in surprise and outrage. "This is
idiocy!" He spat. "We are to trust in these inferior savages?
Never!"
The Jedi's reaction was instantaneous and unexpected.
Vergere's hand snapped out faster than Stent's eyes could follow.
She seized the dirty collar of the pilot's torn jumper and pulled him
forward until their noses were all but touching.
"You will not take that tone again." Her violet eyes flashed
dangerously. The other Imperials reached for their weapons, but
something in the Jedi's tone seemed to turn their hands to blocks of
ice even as her voice held their attention. "The Nesz have faced
more than you could imagine, more than they had the experience
to deal with and much more than any of them deserved."
"Understand this: I didn't have to come to you, and I don't
have to help you. Many of the Nesz believe you would be more
trouble than help and should simply be left to keep the Yuuzhan
Vong occupied. I am beginning to think they're right." She
released the Chiss with a backward shove. Stent's mouth twitched
as if he would bit out a reply, but he said nothing and did not meet
her eyes.
Vergere stood in a single, fluid movement and looked
down on the sitting Chiss. It was not a terribly great height, for she
was a short being, but to Stent it seemed she towered over him.
Oin and Dra stood with her, and the one-eyed Nesz spoke in fairly
understandable Basic.
"The Jedi has spoken for my people and I will leave you to
decide if you will accept our help on our terms, but consider this:
in the air and the blackness beyond you are formidable, but here
and now a handful of Nesz hunters could defeat you. You have
survived this long because the Yuuzhan Vong have allowed you to.
My people are one with the land and these invaders have hunted
us almost to the last. You stomp through the marshes like dying
mud-crawlers and leave tracks a blind Nesz could follow." One of
the Imperial opened his mouth for an angry retort, but Stent
silenced him with a glance.
"I ask you this: how long do you think you will last without
our aid when the Vong learn their plan has failed and begin
hunting you in earnest?" Dra turned and began walking away from
the Imperials, with Oin and Vergere following in his wake.
"Wait," Stent called after them and the Jedi and Nesz
turned back, "I don't think we need to consider it." The Chiss
managed to not sound condescending. "I don't like this, but the
only option we have left is to accept your terms." He glanced at
the others. "Are we in agreement?" A human commander
grumbled an assent while the other two Chiss snapped brief nods.
"It's settled. We'll follow your plan, but you remember this," and
now Stent's voice took on a dangerous edge at odds with his
bedraggled appearance but no less menacing, "if you betray us,
Admiral Thrawn will find out about it somehow, and he will
make you pay for it."
Vergere met the glowing eyes without flinching, and Dra
answered. "Have no fear, the Nesz will keep faith with you if you
do the same. Now we must hurry, before the Yuuzhan Vong
realize you are not going to walk into their jaws on your own."
*********************************************
Situated behind a towering bora tree, Prefect Ke'Nass held
a ready razorbug in one hand, his stiffened amphistaff in the other,
and watched through the eyeholes of his mask for the first of the
Imperials to step through the dense foliage.
He could see it all: the first dozen or so Imperials would
burst through and find nothing ahead but a vast and stagnant lake,
the horror on the man's face as he turned back-but where would he
go? Ke'Nass had already ordered the Yuuzhan Vong parties
flanking them to move in and drive the Imperials into the trap, so
there would be nowhere to run to.
Then Ke'Nass and the other ambushers would throw their
razorbugs and attack with whirling amphistaffs.
Humans and Chiss would push forward even as the infidels
ahead of them turned and tried to run from Ke'Nass and the others.
They would be caught between two groups of Yuuzhan Vong,
outnumbered and outmatched. It wouldn't be a victory for the
Vong, but a holy slaughter. Ke'Nass' face twisted in a bloodthirsty
grin as he imagined the terror in the infidels' eyes when he drove
the tail of his amphistaff into the first one's gut.
His bloody fantasies were rudely interrupted when the
villip perched on his shoulder morphed the features of Jentor Ghre,
a leader of a Vong party that should be flanking the Imperials and
herding them into Ke'Nass trap.
"Prefect," the villip said, "Prefect, I have information-"
"Yes, yes, what is it?" Ke'Nass said distractedly, was that
something moving through the foliage?
"The infidels, Prefect they are-"
"Be silent! They may hear you!" Ke'Nass hissed. Yes!
Someone was there, almost within throwing range! His fingers
itched on the razorbug.
"That is just it, Prefect the infidels are-" Now! The first of
the Imperials was in range!
"Do-ro'ik vong pratte!" Ke'Nass roared and jumped out
from behind the tree, throwing the razorbug with all his might. His
target moved, surprisingly quick, but not fast enough. The
razorbug decapitated him clean and Ke'Nass and the others rose up
and charged the beings behind the fallen form, a fountain of blood
spurting from its neck.
The blood-fever was so hot on the Prefect that it was not
until his next victim blocked his amphistaff with one of his own
that he realized it was a Yuuzhan Vong hunting party he had
attacked.
"What is this?" He choked and shoved the Yuuzhan Vong
backwards into his fellows. He heard a warning buzz and caught
his razorbug as it returned to him and let it fasten itself on his
bandolier. "How did you get ahead of the infidels? You will ruin
the trap!" He howled at the shocked warrior before him. The
Vong behind him, halted in their charge, looked at each other in
confusion.
"That is what I am trying to tell you!" Jentor Ghre's villip
shouted in his ear. "The infidels are not here! They have eluded
us!" Ke'Nass twisted his head to face the villip.
"Impossible! You assured me you had them flanked at
every side!"
"They must have-"
"Fool!" He roared and lashed the ground with his
amphistaff until even his fellow Vong backed away from him. He
stumbled, nearly tripped over something and looked down. The
head of the Yuuzhan Vong he killed was at his feet, the sightless
eyes seemed to mock him.
He howled and kicked the head as hard as he could, it flew
over the lake and landed with a plop near the center. How
could this happen? He was made a fool of, his glory stolen-
Then he knew, with a pang of sharp clarity, who was
responsible.
Sang Anor.
Somehow, the Executor had managed to do it to him again,
to frustrate his plans and steal his victory. Well he wouldn't
succeed, not this time. Ke'Nass would cleanse this planet of every
last infidel in spite of the plots of others and the incompetence of
his troops.
"Start backtrailing them! I want every Yuuzhan Vong out
here searching, now! The infidels can't have gotten far!" He gave
the headless body an enraged kick to the side and pushed past the
Vong party that had walked into the trap. "I want them found by
the end of the day!"
"And if we cannot?" Jentor Ghre dared to ask.
"Then we take to the coralskippers and start bombing this
planet until every last tree is burned to the ground." And if Nom
Anor was caught and killed in those bombings, well then so much
the better.
******************************************
Oin was lying to her. Vergere didn?t know what about,
exactly, but she sensed the conflicting emotions swirling around
him through the Force.
She hurried through the grass, thankful for the shielding
cover of the bora trees. She moved as silently as a brown-robed
ghost, and winced at every noise made by the Imperial pilots, who
were clumsy at best in this terrain.
They're not that noisy, she told herself, it's just that I'm
hearing things so much clearer at the moment. Since she could
not sense the Yuuzhan Vong through the Force, she had done the
next best thing: she was using the Force to enhance her own
senses. She could hear the tiniest of insects buzzing and
distinguish each flap of their transparent wings, see the tiny veins
and antennae.
Other than that, she had to rely on their Nesz guides. She'd
had no reservations about that until she had sensed Oin's deceit.
He and Dra were lying to her about something, and she couldn't
confront them about it in front of the Imperials and risk losing
their already shaky trust.
Not now, anyway, not while they were still too near the
Yuuzhan Vong patrols. Once they had reached the relative safety
of the deep marshes she would get Oin aside and speak to him.
She sensed no malice or intent to harm from them, just the deceit
itself.
There were only two Imperials with her, Oin and Dra.
Vergere supposed she was lucky, in a way, as they were the two
Imperials she was most interested in: Stent, the leader of the few
ragged humans and Chiss on this planet, and the young Force-user
whose name, she had learned, was Drash Tevock.
She had not been surprised when Stent had chosen to
accompany her, he as much as told her he would kill her himself if
there was any treachery. Drash was another matter. He had
specifically requested to accompany Stent, but his attention had
been (and still was) bent entirely in her direction. Vergere had no
idea why he had taken an interest in her, perhaps he sensed in her
the same sort of power he himself carried, all unknowing. They
say like calls to like, and the Jedi had often found more than a
germ of truth in the old saying.
They had put some distance between themselves and the
Vong ambush site when Vergere realized Dra and Oin were
guiding them in the wrong direction. The place they had chosen to
rendezvous with the rest of the parties was to the north, they were
veering due south. Stent and Drash, being unfamiliar with the
planet, wouldn't pick up on that, but the Jedi was experienced in
the local geography. She would get Oin alone and talk to him as
soon as Dra called a rest.
The Nesz leader hopped down from a bora tree a few
minutes later. That was the procedure they'd agreed on: two Nesz
to each party, one to stay with the party and guide them, the other
to range ahead, often staying in the trees for a better view.
"We can stop and rest for a few minutes." He said to them
in fairly good Basic. "There are no Yuuzhan Vong nearby and
scouts are on the lookout."
Stent sat on the waist-high root of a bora tree and stretched
his legs. He drank some water from his canteen and fished around
for a ration bar. Dra watched the processed food curiously until
Oin, who had more experience with aliens and their odd ways,
explained what a ration bar was. Dra shook his head in confused
disgust: why put offal like that in your body when the marshes
were full of fish and tasty grubs were under the bark of the trees?
Vergere found herself chuckling, much to her surprise. She
walked toward the two Nesz. Now was as good a time as any to
clear things up.
"Jedi." Vergere spun, mud stained robes swirling around
her, to face Drash Tevock. The pilot must have approached her
while her attention had been focused on the others. I must be
slipping she thought. Drash was watching her with apparent
calm, but there was a frightening intensity behind his dark eyes.
"Yes, Lt. Tevock?" She recovered quickly from her
surprise and folded her arms.
"I want to talk to you about the Yuuzhan Vong," he said
abruptly, "I want to know something about them, and you seem to
know all there is."
"Um, no, not everything," she said, quickly covering her
surprise and assuming the air of unflappable calm that Jedi had
been famous (and infamous) for, "the more technical aspects of
how their creatures are made, for example, and the deepest
mysteries of their religion are available only to initiates-"
"I'm not interested in that." Drash interrupted, and there
was no mistaking the eager tone. "I want to know more about their
fighters, the corralskippers."
Vergere blinked, the direction of the conversation was
taking her by surprise. Silently, she chastised herself, he was a
pilot after all: what else would he want to talk about? "What do
you want to know?"
"When we were first put through the new training sims the
officer in charge said that coralskippers were living things, and
that the pilots bonded to their fighters, effectively making the two
of them one organism. Is that true?" Vergere nodded. "Now tell
me," Drash licked his lips, "does it only work with Yuuzhan Vong,
or will a skip respond to, say, a human?"
"Yuuzhan Vong and humans are structurally similar,"
Vergere answered slowly, "and the coralskippers are highly
adaptive creatures, so I would say yes. Now-"
"Thank you." Drash said absently. "That's all I wanted to
know." There was a strange, distant expression on his face, and
Vergere sensed the mind behind those faraway eyes working
furiously. He probably wasn't even aware he'd interrupted her, so
caught up was he in the awesome idea he had.
As he turned and moved away, looking everywhere and
seeing nothing, Vergere took the opportunity to study him more
closely. She was amazed at how incredibly strong in the Force he
was. Had he been born before the Purges the Jedi Order would
have sensed him immediately and taken him into training as an
infant, if for no other reason than his own protection and that of
everyone around him: it was dangerous when a strong gift in the
Force went untrained.
It was a wonder that the Emperor or Darth Vader didn't
know about him. He made no attempt to shield the dark energy
that surrounded him like a stormcloud, he didn't even know there
was anything to shield. That was the most likely reason why
everyone who got near him instinctively disliked, even feared, the
young man: even normal beings would sense something of his
taint.
Only Vergere was equipped to see the full truth: that he
was an active thermal detonator that could go off at any time.
Drash Tevock was a danger to himself and everyone around him,
and now it seemed Vergere was stuck with him, yet another
responsibility she didn't ask for and, frankly, didn't feel equal to.
Not that the universe would adjust itself to be fair to her, she knew
that from experience by now.
Oin was kneeling beside a pond, dipping his snout in for a
drink, his back was to Stent, who was still resting. Vergere knelt
beside Oin, cupped her hands under the surface and spoke softly
while she mimed bringing water to her mouth.
"Where are you and Dra leading us?"
Oin's tail stiffened slightly, but otherwise he remained a
picture of serenity. Vergere didn't even sense real surprise in him
through the Force: obviously he didn't believe for one instant that
he had fooled her.
"We will reach the rendezvous point on time." He said
when his snout cleared the pool. He stayed down and kept his
nose close to the water, so as not to alert Stent that something was
up.
"What do you think you're doing?" She hissed. "Stent
doesn't trust us. If he suspects he's being betrayed-"
"He wont," Oin assured, "he knows nothing of the marshes,
he might as well be blind. What will it matter which route we
take?" He turned his head up and implored her with his eyes.
"This is important, there is something we must show you."
Vergere began to protest, but somehow the words died in her
throat. She felt Thracia's familiar, feather-light touch in the back
of her mind and knew, somehow, that whatever Oin was taking her
to was part of the path her Master had shown her.
"You should have told me." Was all she said as she got to
her feet.
"You would have asked questions." Oin replied.
"Questions I cannot yet answer." Vergere wanted to ask where
they were going, but knew somehow that this wasn't the time for
answers. Instead, she motioned for Oin to walk beside her and
quickly changed the topic.
"I need you to understand something," she said quietly,
"and for Dra to understand it. Does Dra know what..." she
swallowed "...what Nom Anor told you?"
"No," Oin shook his head, "he believes there is still hope
for the Nesz, that you bring help to drive off the Vong." The
Imperials would destroy the Yuuzhan Vong on this planet,
certainly, and the Nesz along with them.
"There might be hope yet," Vergere confided, "for some of
the Nesz at least. When I learned about the TIE pilots stranded
here I saw an opportunity for you. The Imperials will eventually
attack this planet, but if Thrawn knew some of his people were
stranded here he would undoubtedly try and rescue them. By
helping these pilots survive and fight the Vong garrisoned here, the
Nesz may be able to convince Thrawn to rescue them as well."
"Rescue?" Oin asked.
"He may be persuaded to transport as many Nesz as
possible off the planet before the Imperials raze it and eventually
settle you on another world. He might even find one similar to
this. If Stent and the other Imperials put in a good word for us,
that is."
"That is why I was so eager for this alliance between these
Imperials and the Nesz." She continued. "If we can somehow
contact Thrawn's fleet when it arrives, if he agrees to give the Nesz
sanctuary, and if there is time to gather and transport as many of
your people as possible off the planet." a lot of ifs, there, she
thought. "That is why we must help Stent." She finished.
Unbidden, the dream-vision she'd had while seeking out
Thrawn rose up before her: the planet laid to waste and Oin alone
of all the Nesz left alive. She shoved the vision aside and
concentrated on one of Master Yoda's sayings instead: Always in
motion is the future. There had to be a way to help the Nesz and
stop Sang Anor at the same time. There had to be!
Oin listened, but let none of his dismay show. The Jedi's
heart was in the right place, but her plan wouldn't work. It wasn't
enough for them to have a new home: the Nesz wouldn't be the
beings they were now if they left their planet. Besides, the
Eternals would still perish either way, whether the life-energy of
this world was slowly choked out by Yuuzhan Vong creatures or
obliterated by a fleet of Star Destroyers. Oin and the others
weren't about to let that happen to the beings who had been
parents, guides and protectors to the Nesz since there were
Nesz.
***************************************
"There!" The warrior had no sooner exclaimed than hurled
his razorbug at the top of a bora tree. The other warriors were
instantly on alert, amphistaffs raised in guard positions.
"What is it?" Nom Anor snapped as he tracked the path of
the razorbug with his eyes. The trasedak's antennae were vibrating
with an intensity that made them blurry to the eye, a sure sign that
the quarry was close.
"I saw something," the razorbug spun back into his
gauntlet-covered hand, "there." The talon-tipped finger pointed to
the treetop.
"The Jedi?" Nom Anor asked quickly.
"Looked like one of the slaves." The warrior answered.
"But you said they are helping the Jedi."
"Did you kill it?" Nom Anor asked quickly.
"No."
"Damn!" Nom Anor made the trasedak retract its antennae.
"Hurry! It will warn the Jedi!" He bolted through high grass, the
other Vong following on his heels.
***************************************
"You two certainly are talkative." Stent's stern but cultured
tone made them both turn in his direction. "Is anything wrong?"
"No," Vergere said smoothly, "I was just telling Oin some
of my adventures back in the days of the Old Republic." She
smiled. "I'd be glad to trade anecdotes with you, Commander, if
you're interested."
"No, I don't think so." Was Stent's curt reply, his glowing
eyes moving from Jedi to Nesz.
"Well, perhaps later then-" Vergere was stopped in mid-
sentence by a sound from the trees, a second later a Nesz scout
dropped to the ground and turned to Dra.
"Yuuzhan Vong are coming! Seven of them!" He hissed in
the Nesz language.
"The Vong!" Vergere said in Basic for the benefit of Stent
and Drash. "Go!" She motioned for Dra and Oin to lead the way.
"Follow them!" She said to the pilots.
"What about you?" Oin asked urgently.
"I'll follow," she said, "but if the Vong catch up," she hefted
her lightsaber, I'll be the first one they meet."
They ran through the grass with Dra and the scout leading
and the Imperials a few steps behind. Vergere followed a few
paces behind, her heightened senses directed at the area behind
them.
She heard the sounds of fast but stealthy beings moving
through the grass, then a low buzzing in the humid air. Vergere
whirled, lightsaber burning to violet life, and bisected the
razorbug. Seven black-armored Yuuzhan Vong were bounding
forward, they were almost on top of them.
Vergere narrowed her eyes. Seven of them, not good odds,
but she had to buy time for the others. She held her lightsaber in a
guard position, braced herself, and charged them.
She met the first Vong with a whirling slash of violet fire.
He blocked her blade with the tail-end of his amphistaff, but not
the spinning kick she delivered to the side of his head, knocking
him to the ground. She didn't pause, but continued her rush into
the rest of the Yuuzhan Vong.
A Vong tried to spear her and the Jedi leapt over him, using
her own race's natural agility and amplifying it through the Force.
Spinning in midair, she kicked him hard in the back before
landing, then ducked to avoid another swinging amphistaff. She
stabbed upward with her lightsaber, aiming for the joints in the
armor that she knew by long experience were the only weaknesses
in the living encasements.
The lightsaber's blade slid along the armored forearm to
the right elbow, where it penetrated. She twisted her wrist and
kicked the warrior in the abdomen at the same time, the impact
shoved him backward and severed his right arm from the elbow
down at the same time. The arm dropped to the ground, the
distressed amphistaff still in the clasped hand.
Embracing the pain, the warrior didn't acknowledge the
cauterized stump but rather pulled his coufee from his belt and
attacked. Vergere jumped and swung her lightsaber again, and the
warrior was just a little too slow to dodge. The blade struck where
the Vong's masked helm met neck and neatly decapitated him.
One down, Vergere jumped over the headless body,
dodging the amphistaff that lashed angrily in the nearby severed
arm's hand, six to go. Even now the first one she had knocked
down had bounded to his feet.
The Yuuzhan Vong had moved to surround her, and as one
they charged. The air sang with the whirl of amphistaffs and
burned with the lightsaber's fire. Vergere executed move after
move, flowing with eye-blinding speed, but there were just too
many of them. She struck aside an amphistaff with such force that
sparks flew from the impact and the serpent was cut in half, then
ducked and rolled to avoid attacks from behind and either side.
Blade-sharp snake tails stabbed down at her as she rolled,
one caught her robe but the poorly-used garment tore instead of
holding her pinned. She got her feet under her and slashed at the
Yuuzhan Vong who'd tried to stab her, now occupied with prying
his amphistaff's tail out of the ground.
The snake head turned flexible and spat venom at her, she
dodged and the poison flew over her shoulder. Thinking quickly,
the Jedi adjusted her swing and struck the head off the amphistaff
before it could harden again. His weapon now limp and lifeless,
the warrior reached for his coufee, but not before Vergere, by now
running purely on adrenalin and the Force, stabbed with her Jedi
weapon up into the Vong's armpits. She shoved the point of the
burning blade deeper, into the heart itself. The warrior died
instantly.
"Jedi!" The voice and blazing eyes were all too familiar.
Nom Anor leapt over the falling warrior and swung his amphistaff,
Vergere parried and jumped backward...into the Yuuzhan Vong
who had circled to attack her from behind. The Force did not alert
her to the attack, of course, or the gauntlet-covered fist that struck
the back of her head.
She was lucky the punch was only a glancing blow and
Didn't kill her instead of merely leaving her stunned, lucky it was
the warrior whose staff she had cut in half earlier, else he would
have stabbed her. But her luck ran out when the tail of Nom
Anor's amphistaff impaled her stomach.
The next instant she was lying on her back, with the dark
shape of Nom Anor standing over her. With her eyes she followed
the body of the amphistaff he held until it reached and buried itself
in her body, pinning her to the ground.
"So," Nom Anor pulled his helmet off with one hand and
let it drop to the ground, "it ends now." He had been escalated
since they'd last met: his face was broken along one side and
scarred along the other, tattoos swirled along his face and down his
neck. "Anything to say before you die, Jedi?" He braced his foot
on her chest and pulled the amphistaff out of her with a cruel twist.
She watched, transfixed, as a small fountain of blood
spurted from her stomach and stained her robe. Distantly, she felt
the Force tell her she might survive if she got immediate treatment.
Not a likely prospect.
She wrenched her gaze away from the growing stain of her
life blood and looked to Nom Anor, who spun the amphistaff over
his head. At least I bought some time for the others she thought.
Master Thracia, I will join you at last, you and all the others who
fell. The razor edge of Nom Anor?s staff descended for a killing
stroke...
And a heavy, reptilian body crashed into Nom Anor and
bore him to the ground. The other four surviving Vong spun
around and moved to spread out, but one was too slow to avoid a
blaster bolt to the chest at close range. The vonduun shell armor
held for a fraction of a second before melting and letting the
killing energy into the Vong's vital organs. The warrior dropped
like a stone.
Vergere shivered at the wave of dark side energy that
seemed to wash over everything like a tide of raw sewage. She
glanced up as the shooter, Drash Tevock, plowed into the Yuuzhan
Vong, an expression of savage glee twisting his face into a
Demon's mask.
There are some beings, Masters Yoda or Mace Windu for
instance, who shone in the Force with a pure, brilliant light for
those who were Force sensitive to see. Drash had that right now,
only he didn't shine.
He burned!
A fire raging out of control, destroying all in its path, that
was how Tevock appeared in Vergere's eyes.
"Do-ro'ik vong pratte!" A warrior screamed as he rushed
Drash, but the Imperial pilot was moving with preternatural speed,
unknowingly using the dark side to enhanced his speed and
strength to horrifying degrees. His blaster was dry, so he dropped
it and charged with only his bare hands. The Vong swung his
amphistaff to disembowel, and Drash caught the serpent just
behind the head. The Yuuzhan Vong found himself wrestling for
possession of his own amphistaff!
The Vong tried to brace himself but Drash's forward shove
knocked him backwards to the ground, leaving the amphistaff in
Drash's grip. The serpent turned flexible and lashed at the human,
but Drash simply twisted the snake's head to break its neck.
The Yuuzhan Vong was on his feet in an instant, coufee in
hand. He stabbed but caught only the edge of the Imperial's worn-
out shirt as Drash continued his berserker attack, delivering a
succession of punches to the warrior's body. The Vong was forced
backward, Drash's knuckles bled, and the vonduun shell over the
warrior's abdomen...cracked.
Vergere gasped when the reptilian claw gripped her
shoulder, then Oin was leaning over her, slit-eyes intense. "Can
you move?" He asked quickly as he pressed a fold of her robe over
the bleeding wound. "Can you walk?"
Narrowing her eyes, the Jedi focused her attention inward
instead of at the world around her. She stretched her feet, made
her toes curl and uncurl to confirm what her senses told her: the
amphistaff had missed her spine, she could walk. "Yes," she
nodded weakly, Oin wasted no time in getting her gently but
quickly to her feet.
"Hurry, we have to hurry," Oin muttered as he practically
carried her away from the fighting. Vergere drew on the Force for
strength and helped by walking as best she could, one hand was
pressed against her abdomen to help the robe staunch the wound,
the other arm was slung around Oin's long neck. She opened her
free hand and the lightsaber flew into her grip.
For the first time, she looked away from Drash and sought
out the other Yuuzhan Vong. Dra had surprised one of the
warriors and jumped on his armored back from behind, powerful
Nesz jaws were clamped on the Vong's head. Dra strained to
overcome the vonduun shell while using his arms to fend off the
warrior's amphistaff. So far the serpent hadn't bit him, but the
Vong was clawing like mad at the Nesz on his back.
Vergere's attention was diverted from the fight when the
final warrior, this one slightly smaller than the other Yuuzhan
Vong, appeared in front of her and Oin. The whirling amphistaff
stabbed at Oin, who tried to dodge while supporting Vergere's
awkward weight. The Jedi acted without thought, switching her
lightsaber to life and knocking aside an attack that would have
taken Oin's legs out from under him.
Vergere sucked in breath and held the robe tighter over her
wound, it had taken all her strength to block the Vong's strike,
which had nearly tore the lightsaber from her hand, and even now
the warrior drew back to strike again, moving with sinuous grace.
The Jedi knew she would not be able to keep hold of her weapon.
The Vong closed in - and was struck by a blaster bolt to the
shoulder that spun the warrior around. Stent fired again, this time
catching the warrior in the upper abdomen. The force knocked his
opponent backwards to crash on the ground. The Chiss was too far
away to actually penetrate the vonduun shell armor with his blaster
shots, but he could and did knock the warrior back down with the
force of the blasts whenever the barbarian tried to move.
"Come on!" Stent barked, eyes glowing furiously as
Vergere and Oin hurried past him.
"I told you to go on without me." She told the Chiss
angrily. Stent backed away from the fighting as well, keeping pace
with them.
"I would have," he said shortly, "but the natives refused to
leave without you."
Dra had succeeded: with a loud crack the Yuuzhan
Vong's helmet broke in the Nesz's mouth. The Nesz leader felt his
teeth sink into skin and tangle in hair, he bit down all the harder.
The Vong's skull cracked much more easily than the helmet that
encased it had, and the invader dropped, dead weight.
Dra jumped off the dead alien's back and ran toward his
allies, spitting out foul-tasting stuff all the way.
"Lt. Tevock, come on!" Stent ordered as he squeezed off
another shot at the smaller Vong. Drash wasn't concerned with his
superior's orders, though, and executed a spinning back-kick that
sent the warrior to the ground. Drash kept the attack up, landing
punches and kicks on the unmoving Yuuzhan Vong.
Then Nom Anor was rising out of the tall grass, holding the
broken body of the Nesz scout who had attacked him. He threw
the body aside, took up his amphistaff and rushed at Drash. The
Imperial whirled to meet him, holding the beaten Vong's coufee in
one hand.
The smaller Vong bounded up again, but this time charging
at Drash instead of the Jedi. The Imperial laughed as the both
converged on him.
Stent checked his blaster. "Low on power," he muttered as
Dra caught up with them, "all right, let's move!" With Dra leading
the way, the four fugitives ran deeper into the marsh.
"No," Vergere tried to look back, "we can't leave Tevock!"
He was deep in the dark side, but he still had a chance, could still
be redeemed, there were too few Force-strong beings left in the
galaxy to let even one perish.
"He's buying us time." Stent said.
Vergere tried to protest further, but could feel the strength
draining out of her as her body instinctively began putting her into
a healing trance. She turned her head once more to get a last look
at the Imperial pilot, and only now noticed that the robe over her
lower back was dark with blood. Nom Anor's amphistaff had gone
all the way through her body.
Like pinning an insect's wings was her last thought
before the world went black. Her lightsaber dropped from
nerveless fingers, but Oin caught the weapon before it could hit the
ground.
***************************************
Nom Anor lashed his amphistaff like a whip and caught the
human's knife-arm in its coils. He yanked the infidel's arm
downward and aimed a side-kick at his head.
Laughing, Drash ducked the kick and tried to charge Nom
Anor, but another amphistaff whipped around his legs and pulled
his feet out from under him. Drash fell on his face, pushed himself
up, and got a forearm-blow to the face from Nom Anor, followed
by a kick to the midsection that knocked the wind out of him.
Finally, Nom Anor was able to deliver a chop to the back of the
Human's neck, cutting the force of the blow at the last instant to
stun instead of kill.
Breathing hard, Nom Anor stared at the now-senseless
berserker who had, with his bare hands, nearly torn apart a
Yuuzhan Vong warrior in full armor.
A shadow crossed the Imperial. Nom Anor spun,
amphistaff raised in a guard position, to face Ceis Grasm. The
subaltern held her amphistaff ready also. They watched one
another for a moment and Nom Anor wondered if she would make
her move now to ensure that he would not return from this
mission.
Apparently not, as she relaxed and bade the amphistaff curl
around her arm. Nom Anor did likewise. Ceis Grasm loosened
her helmet and pulled it off, then looked down at the stunned
Imperial.
"I didn't know infidels could fight like that."
Nom Anor was glad she was looking downward, so she
didn't see the breath catch in his throat. He had never seen her
unmasked before; and she was stunning.
Her hair was the color of the void behind the stars, the
tresses were greased and stuck close to her skull now, which was
better for the helmet, but would be rich and lustrous when let free.
Her facial bones had been broken and remade until not a hint of
symmetry remained in her visage.
Tattooed symbols followed the contours of her face, traced
the crooked, off-center nose and enhanced full lips already
accessorised by numerous scars.
"Yes," he shook his head, reminding himself of who she
was and why she was here, "do you still see no chance for glory
here, subaltern?" He allowed a trace of mockery to color his tone.
Ceis Grasm stiffened slightly and fixed Nom Anor with a
cold stare. A week ago, he would have lowered his eyes instantly.
A week ago he would not have been able to speak to her at all in
such a tone. It was not a week ago, and Nom Anor returned the
pointed glare with one of his own, unconsciously aping an
expression his father often used to quell subordinates.
A trace of uncertainty appeared in Ceis Grasm's eyes, and
Nom Anor had the satisfaction of seeing a flush spread up her neck
and across her face. The female swallowed, but didn't look away
as she donned her mask again.
Nom Anor was surprised to feel the bite of disappointment
on seeing her face covered again, while a mischievous part of him
wondered at what kinds of markings adorned the body encased by
the vonduun armor, and just how far down that flush went...
A low groan broke the his concentration. Both turned to
regard the warrior the human had so badly beaten stumble to his
feet with the aid of his amphistaff, using the serpent like a cane.
He shook his head, saw the helpless Imperial and staggered
towards him, a low growl built in his throat.
"Hold!" Nom Anor's amphistaff went rigid on command
and the young Vong leveled the tail at the advancing warrior. The
man came to a reluctant halt, shaking with fury. "This human
fought with Yun Yammka's own heart, it would be a dishonor for
him to die here." He turned the Imperial over with his foot, and his
eyes widened when he saw the man's face clearly.
"I know this Imperial," he said, "or at least, I've met him
before." He noticed the other two Vong staring at him and smirked
a little. He narrowed his eyes. "I spared his life once as well."
"He cost us the Jedi you want so badly." The warrior
snarled.
Nom Anor narrowed his eyes. "A delay, no more; she is
wounded." A predator's smile twisted his face. "She will not get
far." He glanced at the warrior. "You are in no condition to track
her."
"A few bruises," he said dismissivly.
"Your ribs are broken." Nom Anor eyed the man's side.
"No heathen can harm a Yuuzhan Vong!" The warrior
drew himself up, disregarding the pain and clearly intent on going
on. "I am able to walk."
"Then take this Imperial and go find the nearest party of
Yuuzhan Vong." Nom Anor snapped. "That is an order." He bent
down to retrieve his masked helmet, made to put it on, then
changed his mind and tossed it on the Imperial's chest. "And take
that with you." He said. "I will kill the Jedi with my face bare."
"Have him taken to the temple." Nom Anor continued.
"And tell them they would be wise to keep him unconscious until
he reaches his destination." He turned away from the wounded
man and looked toward Ceis Grasm, who was watching him in
return, whatever expression she might have was once more hidden
by the mask. His would-be assassin, an enemy's blade, aimed at
his heart. "The subaltern and I will track the Jedi on our own."
Ceis Grasm narrowed her eyes at the challenge in his tone.
Nom Anor saw a kind of respect in her gaze as she inclined her
head in agreement.
***************************************
"Are you awake yet?"
The voice snapped Drash back into consciousness, but he
didn't allow his eyes to open. Bright light above him, he could see
it through his closed eyelids. He lay flat on his back on a cool,
smooth surface. Instinctively, he continued to feign
unconsciousness. He felt nothing of the stifling humidity and
insect buzzing he associated with the swamp. He was indoors,
then.
Where was he? What had happened? The last thing he
remembered was running from the Yuuzhan Vong while the Jedi
covered their retreat. He remembered feeling excitement, but no
fear. Then disappointment when he understood he would not be
taking part in the fight.
No, wait, the natives had refused to lead them, had gone
back for the Jedi, forcing Stent to follow. He remembered feeling,
hearing, smelling the fighting ahead. Then something had stirred,
something dark and deadly coiled within him, brought to rabid
wakefulness by the sheer fight-or-flight rush of adrenaline.
What happened afterward was a blur of sounds and images,
terrible, violent and yet exhilarating. Yes, he had...what had he
done anyway?
However it had turned out, it didn't look good, but seeing
as he was undoubtedly a prisoner of the Yuuzhan Vong it was a
wonder he was still alive.
He remained still and tried to slow his rapid heartbeat, keep
his breathing normal. It wasn't easy. He felt dulled, numb, he
could get no sense of his surroundings the way he'd always been
able to. Nothing but blank, empty space around him, like being in
a sensory-depravation chamber.
Calm, calm,he concentrated, and it was as though his
hearing intensified to preternatural levels. The speaker stood near
him by the sound of his voice, bare feet stirred slightly on the
polished floor. Drash didn't seem to be restrained in any way.
Cautiously, he opened his eyes a crack. He was just adjusting to
the bright light when he felt the serpent prod his arm.
He bounded to his feet with a cry of shock in his throat.
The Imperial spun, dropping into a defensive crouch, and took in
his surroundings at a glance.
A big, single room, like a receiving hall but bare of
furniture. The light came from a swarm of insects that crawled
and flew about the high ceiling, their myriad glowing bodies
revealed the living chamber of black coral in all its somber
majesty. The floor was polished mirror-smooth and shiny, the
vaulted ceiling was supported by ornately carved pillars of corral.
The room was dominated by a towering, massive statue of living
coral at the far end of the hall, grown in the image of a hideous
humanoid sitting on a throne of skulls.
Drash saw all that, but it was secondary. Most of his
attention was focused on the speaker.
The Yuuzhan Vong stood a few paces distant. He was tall,
thin even by the standards of the Vong, and obviously in advanced
age. Horrible burns covered his body, and his eyes...Drash shrank
away...he had no eyes, just empty sockets.
The ghoul wore a semitransparent garment resembling a
robe. A robe crisscrossed with blue veins. The fringes bristled
with hairlike feelers, some short, some long, and all moving like a
thousand antennae. It held the tail-end of a long amphistaff in one
skeletal hand, the snake's wedge-shaped head slithered around in
front of the Vong's bare feet. The forked tongue licked out and
Drash flinched.
"Ah, as I thought," the old Vong smiled, revealing a healthy
set of sharp teeth, he spoke Basic with only a slight accent, "awake
at last, and ready to begin your new life."
"Where the hell am I?" Drash's eyes darted around the vast
room, trying to peer into every shadow. Was it just the two of
them here? He couldn't tell. Normally he knew instantly how
many people were around him, but he got no feel for this place at
all!
"You are in the temple of Yun Yammka. I am Krelt, a
priest of the Slayer." The old one's voice was deep and full of
power, at odds with his obviously frail body. "You have been
brought here because the warriors believe you may be worthy."
"Worthy as what?" Drash didn't recognize the hoarse voice
as his own. He looked around for a weapon. Nothing of course:
they had taken everything but the clothes on his back. Even his
boots were gone. He shifted his bare feet on the cold floor and
noticed there were scars on his knuckles. Had they been bleeding?
"As a sacrifice, possibly." Krelt answered, facing Drash's
general direction. He took a few steps forward with the amphistaff
slithering on the ground before his feet. Drash might have risked
attacking the old priest if it wasn't for that staff: the snake watched
him with cold, alert eyes, he had no doubt at all it would be ready
if he tried an assault on its master. "But if you show yourself truly
worthy of Yun Yammka then a much higher destiny awaits you."
Drash felt the blood retreat from his face and it seemed a
layer of ice coated his skin. This all seemed familiar.
Familiar...and terrible. "What are you saying?" He found himself
backed against a pillar by the approaching priest, pressed against
the coral column with nowhere else to go.
"There is no need for fear." It was not Krelt's voice than
answered but another speaker, standing in the shadow of a pillar.
"It will only blind you to the truth."
Drash turned his head in the speaker's direction. The
glowing red eyes that speared him from the shadows confirmed
what the musical voice had suggested. A Chiss stepped into the
light.
And yet it was not a Chiss. Oh, it was humanoid in shape,
with blue skin and red eyes, but there the similarity with Thrawn's
race ended. The Chiss was thinner than any other specimen he'd
seen before. Drash's first though was that the Vong had starved
the other prisoner, but the emaciated body moved with strength
and grace that suggested no unhealthiness.
He was naked except for a loincloth around his waist, so
Drash could clearly see the alien's body was covered in tattoos,
swirling shapes and alien symbols burned into his blue flesh, as
well as a number of ugly scars. The Chiss' nose had been broken
and badly reset, and when he opened his mouth he revealed sharp,
white fangs.
"This is Wras." Krelt turned his blind face to the Chiss.
"He is an initiate into our ways, as you may be." Drash could say
nothing, only follow Wras with his eyes the same way he watched
the amphistaff. The Chiss crossed the room to stand at Krelt's side
and spoke to Drash.
"I was like you, once." Wras said. "In my ignorance I
fought them when I first came here. Now I know better." He
turned to Krelt and took the priest?s free hand. Reverently, he
pressed the back of the burned hand to his blue forehead. "He
showed me the truth, as he will now show you, but you must
accept and embrace it of your own will." The Chiss' fingers ended
in hooked claws. He turned to Drash, and the pilot saw the
fanatical fire in those intense, red eyes.
"Yeah," Drash choked, "I think I have time for a sermon,
just don't expect any donations." He tried to grin at Wras, but the
expression on his face was one of pure horror. "The Empire's pay
isn't too hot, he can tell you that."
"You have nothing to worry about." Krelt smiled. "Yun
Yammka's tribute comes from your flesh, not your purse." With
Wras beside him, he took another step toward the human. "And
our sermons involve action, not words." He touched the bluish
sack below one eye socket.
"Yun Yammka is a demanding master, and sacrifices must
be made." He turned his face toward the monstrous statue, the
light from the lumin bugs made its face seem to writhe. "In my
youth I failed to understand that, and so I dug out my eyes to better
see the truth." Drash turned white. "Your first lesson begins now.
Ready the Embrace of Pain."
Drash opened his mouth to ask what that was, but there was
no need. In response to Krelt's words something began to
unfold from the far wall.
"In the Embrace," Wras said, "you will take your first step
to finding the gods."
That was enough to break the frail facade of calm Drash
had tried to put up and drown him in a flood of raw terror. Now he
knew where he really was, why this seemed so familiar: he was
back in the commune again, back with Frae who was determined
to purify the little children no matter the cost. The faces were
different, the names were different, but that was all.
Drash screamed and pushed away from the pillar. He ran,
bare feet thumping on the floor, not knowing where he was
running to, just running as a little boy had once run when Frae had
decided he must be punished for some slight or even imagined
transgression. The old man's voice I do this out of love echoed
in Drash's skull in the sad, regretful tone that meant something
truly terrible indeed was in store for him.
Wras caught him before he had taken a dozen steps. The
Chiss wrapped his long arms around Drash and hauled him back to
the Embrace with hideous, unnatural strength. Drash screamed
again. Every step toward the Embrace of Pain was a step back in
time, to the shocklash across a little boy's naked back, to the cold
water and the boiling, to days on end without food or water until
he would beg for a scrap of garbage.
Panic made him thrash and writhe Wras' grip, even though
he knew he wouldn't get away. Had he ever really believed he'd
escaped from Zeser Frae? No, not really, not in his bones, not in
his soul. His life since the Empire had recruited him had been a
dream. A fantasy. He had always been in the commune, and he
always would be.
"We do this to help you." Wras said to him, and Drash only
screamed the all louder. The Embrace of Pain stretched its long
limbs toward him, and his screams were the screams of a child
caught in a nightmare from which he would never awaken.
