Chapter Twelve
"I think I may have miscalculated."
The sentence seemed to hang suspended in the air between
them. Then Thrawn was up and moving and Parck realized that
the sounds had lasted only seconds, now they existed only in his
mind.
The Grand Admiral was at his command chair, calling up
holograms of the Unknown Regions and the sectors of space the
Empire controlled. He displayed the current positions of all their
ships and bases and the hyperspace routes connecting them, then
highlighted a base near the edge of their territory and more than
thirty Star Destroyers, all those that could reach the marked planet
quickly.
Parck turned away from the inert villip and took a hesitant
step toward the seated Chiss. It seemed to him he should say
something, either to ask what the Admiral was doing or if he
should excuse himself, only he couldn't think of the right words.
There was no need. Thrawn finished his strategizing,
copied the information onto a datacard and slipped it into a
datapad, then got up and walked toward Parck.
"Contact Moff Niriz and have him order these Star
Destroyers to rendezvous at the outpost in the Cavexil system." He
handed Parck the datapad. "Then report to the hanger bay with
General Beyin. I'll join you there soon." He turned back the chair.
"We'll take a shuttle to the Annihilator," he named the only
undamaged Star Destroyer from their strike at Orune Prime, it had
entered the system only after most of the fighting was over,
carrying the exiled nobility and their chosen Monarch back to
Orune Prime, "have Commander Veenir take the Imperitor to
Orrsa for repairs, we'll be heading for the Cavexil system in the
Annihilator."
"That's where the Vong will strike?" Parck asked. "You
know what Sang Anor intends to do?"
"No, there wont be an attack on Cavexil and yes, I know
what the Executor is planning, I knew it immediately." He said
impatiently. "He wants to strike at me, personally, Captain. What
is the best way he can do that?" He gestured to the hologram.
Parck studied the star chart for a moment, first in
bafflement and then with dawning comprehension. The Cavexil
outpost was where most of the young Chiss recruits passed through
on their way to join Unity Fleet, the base sat on a hyperspace route
leading directly to...
"The Chiss homeworld!" Parck exclaimed.
"By the Families I pray we can stop him in time." Thrawn
was punching coordinates into his holopad.
"But that can't be his target! Sir, striking at Chiss space is
insanity!"
"And Sang Anor is insane." Thrawn said grimly. "If he
wasn't before, he is now. That is what I failed to consider." He
finished setting the transceivers. "I have a transmition of my own
to make. We'll be leaving immediately afterwards."
"But sir, if this is all just based on a hunch-"
"What you call a 'hunch,' Captain, is the result of the
subconscious putting together clues and signs the conscious mind
has failed to notice," Thrawn said in a distracted manner, "now
carry out your orders."
"Yes sir." Parck saluted and hurried toward the door.
"One thing more, Captain." Thrawn turned his glowing
eyes to the villip. "Take that with you, we may need it."
**********************************************
The signal shot through hyperspace in an instant and
located its targets. Thrawn stood on his holopad, nervous but of
course not showing it, and waited for a response.
A minute passed, then two, then ten. Finally two
holograms appeared before him, fuzzy at first, then solidified.
Two Chiss males, each wearing the ornate but practical uniform of
a Syndic, but otherwise as different in appearance as dawn was to
dusk.
The one on the left was thin and aged, though he stood
straight and unbent. His hair and beard were tinged blue by the
hologram but in person would be white as snow. His seamed,
craggy face was as ready to laugh as to adopt a stern demeanor,
though it leaned toward the latter for the moment as he regarded
Thrawn with a guarded expression.
While he was significantly older than Thrawn, the other
Syndic was somewhat younger than the Grand Admiral, clean
shaven, with his black hair as neatly trimmed as the older one's
white. While a human observer might have said the young Chiss
was calm and reserved, in Thrawn's eye he radiated unconcealed
fury.
"Syndic Taesk," he inclined his head to the elder Chiss,
then turned to the younger. He paused a moment before repeated
the gesture. "Syndic Vraet." He met the other's glowing gaze, not
at all softened by light years of distance. "Greetings."
"It has been a long time, Mith'raw'nuruodo." Taesk's voice
was as strong and clear as ever, a voice that could inspire as well
as command.
"I know, and regrettably circumstances will not let our
reunion be a pleasant one. I'm contacting you to send a warning to
the Chiss. I believe Homeworld will come under attack, soon."
"And you surmised that we were the only Syndic's who
would deign to speak with you." Taesk concluded reluctantly.
"Yours was the only voice raised in my defense during the
trial." Thrawn reminded him. He turned his attention to Vraet. "I
doubted you would answer me at all." He said carefully.
"So the great Mith'raw'nuruodo made a mistake." The
young Syndic said shortly. "What a surprise. My views haven't
changed. I only answered your call because I feared you would try
to contact my House in some other way if I ignored you."
Thrawn felt a lump beginning to form in his throat, but he
quashed it and made himself speak casually. "Is Kethria well?"
He asked as though it were a trivial matter.
"She is none of your concern!" Vraet barked, composure
forgotten momentarily. "And I will not disturb her by delivering a
message from you, so don?t ask."
For a moment Thrawn was unable to form a response.
"Your mother is more resilient than you may think." He said at
last.
"Let's make one thing clear from the start. I am the Syndic
of my House," Vraet's eyes burned, "I decide what is in the best
interest of all those under my protection. You have no place here.
No bonds. No family. No voice in how this House functions.
Not any longer." His eyes were glittering slits. "Say whatever you
have to say."
"Yes. Who would dare attack us?" Taesk raised his head.
"An alien race from beyond the known galaxy." Thrawn
said. "They call themselves the Yuuzhan Vong. They utilize an
exotic, organic technology that is equal to our most advanced
machinery and they employ this technology on a mission of
conquest. They were responsible for the plagues that ravaged the
worlds under my protection a short while ago, and that the least of
what they are capable of." Thrawn shifted his stance. "I recently
frustrated their plans and I believe their commander will strike at
Homeworld in retaliation.
"I advise you to deploy your ships defensively throughout
Home system and reset your scanners to detect organic matter.
Their ships do not have ion engines, but use creatures called dovin
basals which warp gravity in order to propel the vessels, so watch
for gravitational anomalies. These dovin basals can also strip a
vessel of its energy shield, but simulation strategy suggests this can
be negated by expanding the ship's gravitational compensator.
The enemy leader has been known to strike quickly and
unexpectedly, so the attack could be imminent. You may need my
aid. I can muster thirty Star Destroyers now, with more later. I
can have them in your space before the day is out."
"And we are to convince the Syndics of the other Great
Families to allow an alien fleet into our space?" Taesk's tone was
more admonishing than angry, as though telling Thrawn he should
know better. Vraet's response wasn't nearly as calm.
"I knew you would try to cow the Chiss into putting
themselves under your 'protection' sooner or later, as you have
with the barbarian races of this region, but I overestimated your
intelligence. Or perhaps you think our isolationist policies have
made us gullible to the trickery of outsiders." Vraet spoke with
tightly-controlled rage.
"You offer up a ludicrous and completely unheard-of threat
and blame it for the plagues you have brought from your barbarian
Empire, plagues which have cost many of the young and foolish
Chiss you duped into serving you their lives, then you use this
tradgety as an opportunity to annex us." He narrowed his eyes.
"I'm insulted. It's clear you have nothing of worth to say." He
reached out, probably to a control panel outside the hologram's
range to cut off the transmition.
"Wait." Taesk didn't raise his voice, but Vraet's hand froze
as though the young Syndic had been flash-frozen in carbonite.
"While allowing an Imperial fleet into our space is indeed out of
the question, I believe we should hear him out."
"Surely you don't believe this nonsense?" Vraet turned
slightly to the left, where Taesk's image was doubtless being
projected for him.
"It's because it sound like nonsense that I'm inclined to
listen." The elder Chiss answered. "If Mith'raw'nuruodo's aim
was deceit he would have chosen a more convincing story."
"You were always quick to rush to his defense," Vraet's
eyes glowed with soft menace, "and yet it is I who the other
Syndics so often turn their suspicions on." He turned back to
Thrawn. "If there is a threat to Chiss space, the Expansionary
Defense Fleet with meet it. But it is you and your rabble of aliens
and traitors who are highest on our list of enemies."
Thrawn's eyes flashed with anger. "The Empire has never
moved against Chiss space, not since I engaged and defeated
Kinman Doriana's strike force, and they never will. I have the
Emperor's personal guarantee that your borders and sovereignty
will be respected." Thrawn felt a nervous fluttering in the pit of
his stomach when he said that: the Sith didn't exactly have a stellar
reputation when it came to keeping their word. True, Palpatine
had mostly left the Hapes Consortium alone and the Chiss were in
a similar position: both were strong and ancient cultures, but
tucked in out-of-the way spots and generally unconcerned with
events in the greater galaxy.
On the other hand, with the power of a Death Star at his
disposal would the Emperor tolerate even one world that didn't
swear fealty to him?
The Grand Admiral let none of his doubts show, of course,
either in tone or expression.
"Besides, the Emperor's vision is the way of the future,"
Thrawn continued, "I knew it the first time I spoke with Doriana.
Palpatine is bringing peace, order and prosperity to the galaxy."
"It's as the Families have said," Vraet sneered, "you've
become infected by the barbarian cultures." He looked at
Thrawn's hard-won Grand Admiral's uniform and command bars
as though he were wearing the skins and feathers of a savage. In
Vraet's eyes he probably was. "On Homeworld we still keep the
old precepts."
"You mean the practice of pretending the universe ends
outside your borders?" Thrawn shot back. "The customs that tell
us never to innovate or adapt our methods and then call this
complacency 'being honorable?'" Thrawn said with icy contempt.
"I saw where following those customs has lead us: the fleets are
commanded by inexperienced fools who've never seen combat,
and beyond our boarders entire sectors are in a storm of chaos. It
was only a matter of time before that maelstrom spilled over into
our space, and we weren't prepared. I attempted to take an active
role in defending our people and was branded on outcast."
Bitterness tinged his voice.
"Once the Chiss could have been the one great power in
this galaxy, but we let the chance slip through our fingers. Instead
we settled for simply protecting what we have. Well, Palpatine is
the guiding force in the galaxy now, so why should the Syndics be
angered at my actions? Our goals are the same: that the Chiss be
left alone."
"You've abandoned your heritage. Those customs you
speak so disparagingly of have served us well ever since they were
handed down to us a thousand years ago by Emperor
Bruen'ris'telokru himself." Vraet named the Chiss leader who
united his race and conquered the area of the Unknown Regions
known as Chiss Space. After his death, his rule was taken up
jointly by his male relatives, who founded the First Families
"It was Enrist who concluded that we have all we had all
the space we needed, and that ruling a galaxy-spanning empire was
not only a pointless vanity but dangerous as well, as we would risk
polluting our culture with barbarian influences." The young Chiss
twisted his mouth in disgust. "I suppose you still practice the
perversion of studying alien art, as if those inferior minds could
ever produce anything useful."
"I'm impressed, Vraet," Thrawn clenched his teeth to keep
from shouting at the young Chiss, "you can replay the official
version of history as well as any recording." He glanced at Taesk.
"I'm surprised you never encouraged him to dig deeper into his
heritage as you did with me."
"What are you talking about?" Vraet asked.
"Enrist was an old man when he made that proclamation.
Tired of fighting, he wanted to settle down, consolidate and build a
future for the Chiss. There was nothing wrong with that, but his
isolationist policy wasn't intended to keep us pure, but to maintain
his image as the greatest war-leader in Chiss history. By making
our borders static, he guaranteed that no later Chiss could ever
achieve victories that would exceed his.
"There was another motive for his decision, though,"
Thrawn went on, apparently oblivious to Vraet's mounting fury,
"Enrist had sent out scouting missions to unknown sections of the
galaxy, those scouts brought him news of the Old Republic. He
knew that if the Chiss conquered a vast empire in the Unknown
Regions then sooner or later they would encounter the Old
Republic and come into conflict with them, a conflict he doubted
we would win. Enrist feared the strength of the Republic and the
power of the Jedi Knights, and so he made his laws and got what
he wanted: to be emperor of a pocket of space that no one more
than a few sectors away will ever hear of and to have his name and
memory worshiped for a thousand years. All the while his
kingdom was and remains in decline."
"I have better things to do than waste my time debating
history with an outcast!" Vraet shouted. "If a barbarian power
threatens Chiss space it will be met and crushed, the traditions that
you flouted are a better guarantee of victory than the promises of
an alien Emperor." He reached for the disconnect button. "As for
you, you're welcome to play with your fleet and squander your
time trying to hold a rabble of inferior species together, but so
much as cast a shadow in our space and I will personally lead the
Defense Fleet in crushing you!" The hologram dissolved, leaving
Thrawn and Taesk. For a few moments neither spoke.
"I didn't handle that well." Thrawn finally said. "I really
didn't think he'd answer me, and having all those old, ignorant
arguments used against me..." he shook his head, "how could
Kethria turn him against me like that?"
"Don't judge them too harshly, Thrawn." Taesk put in.
"They never understood why you defied the traditions, and things
were very hard for them after your exile. There were even some
doubts about whether or not Vraet was suitable to succeed you. He
had to prove himself to the other Syndics." The elder Chiss folded
his hands. "He isn't you, but he's still a good and just Syndic.
Your House is lucky to have him."
"I know, my friend." Thrawn grimaced. "It was a difficult
decision, but at least they had you to help them."
Taesk nodded. "I take it Beyin is still with you?"
"Yes. He's doing his people a great service, even if they
refuse to acknowledge him."
"Thrawn, there are times I envy you and Beyin. You were
my two best pupils, and your courage shames me."
"No, without your influence I would have become as blind
and complacent as the others."
Taesk chuckled. "True, I saw the flaws in our culture and
encouraged you to open your eyes and your mind, but you went
further than I ever dreamed of. You defied the Families and the
traditions." His face took on a stern cast. "Half the time I'm proud
of you, the other half I wish I'd never set eyes on you. I don't yet
know if your actions have saved the Chiss or will prove the ruin of
our people."
"I feel the same way sometimes." Thrawn confided. "But
I've thrown my lot in with Palpatine and I will rise or fall with the
Empire." He shrugged. "But these are old arguments, and the new
threat we face is real."
"You truly believe these barbarians will move against us?"
Taesk's tone was frankly disbelieving.
"I do. There may be Yuuzhan Vong already on
Homeworld: they have creatures called ooglith masquers that
behave as a second skin, allowing the wearers to assume the form
of humanoid species. They can also counterfeit the red eyes of our
people."
"Savages can pass for Chiss?" Taesk was shocked.
"And they may know enough about our culture and
language to navigate Chiss society: not too long ago one of my TIE
Advanced fighters disappeared near space I now know to be
controlled by the Yuuzhan Vong. The pilot, a Chiss named
Kirdw'ras'sinugo, could have been made to tell them much if the
aliens took him prisoner."
"I'll keep watch," Taesk promised, "it was good to speak to
you again, but remember, Vraet was right: Imperial ships are not
welcome in Chiss space. Pass our borders and you put yourself at
risk." Now it was the older Syndic's turn to reach for his control
panel. His hologram disappeared, leaving Thrawn alone in his
chamber.
"I'll have to take that chance." The Grand Admiral said to
himself as he made for the shuttle bay.
**********************************************
"Blast him." Vraet muttered as he turned away from the
holopad, his glowing eyes looked inward, not seeing the rooms
surrounding him. Testament to how one could get used to even the
most amazing sights. The Syndic's personal rooms, like the rest of
the palace, was a masterpiece combining elegance with practicality
and the importance of the military to the Chiss mind. The
spacious chambers opened into one another to provide a greater
sense of space, but could be quickly sealed off into separate areas
for the sake of privacy, or for defensive purposes in case the palace
was attacked.
Three of the walls were decorated with soothing, mosaic
patterns, the other outdid them: it was a curving, floor-to-ceiling
window that provided a view of the city beyond. The window was
so clear a bird might be fooled into trying to fly through it, but the
substance could withstand anything short of a turbo charric
barrage.
Not that there was any real danger of fighting on the Chiss
Homeworld itself, but the palace had been built nearly a millennia
ago, when Syndics were more than a little suspicious of one
another's motives and strengths in their new newly-united society.
As far as one could see, even with a Chiss' exceptional
vision, were the buildings and structures of the city, all smooth
lines and elegant architecture built to coexist with the planet's
natural beauty rather than replacing it. Even the poorest Chiss had
the means to incorporate some aesthetic value into their homes and
selves, but all following a practical purpose.
And every Chiss in the city and the region beyond was
under Vraet's protection.
It was a Syndic's duty to care for his people. Widows,
orphans and the elderly had to be provided for, along with basic
education for the young and higher education for those with skill
but without means. Vraet was also responsible for building and
maintaining public structures and passing judgement over disputes
or crimes. All this in addition to a Syndic's main duty, to
defending his people from enemies of the Chiss.
"So that was Mith'raw'nuruodo," the Chiss female crossed
the room to stand beside him. "He doesn't look like the madman
the High Families have painted him to be, despite the savage's
clothing he wore." She said dryly.
"Yes, he's a living legend." He said bitterly, turning his
head to meet her crimson gaze. Raine had commanded Vraet's
House phalanx for the past seven years, an unheard-of position for
a female Chiss, but by now no soldier of in the entire Expansionary
Defense Fleet could question her ability. "And his name is never
to be spoken. By order the High Families he no longer exists."
"A difficult prospect, considering his exploits are all the
commoners talk about."
The Syndic grimaced. "You're right. Do you believe his
gall?" He ground his teeth. "To think he can frighten us into
giving in to the Empire." He paced to the window and back to her.
"He's a menace and a traitor to his people." And to his House,
he thought. "A pity the High Families didn't execute him when they
had the oppurtunity. I would have."
Raine looked at him sharply. "Your own father?"
"I would have done so with my own hands if I'd been old enough to use
a charric." His voice seemed to freeze the air. His father, the
great Traitor. The name of Mith'raw'nuruodo had followed Vraet
all his life, polluting him, infecting him in the eyes of the other
Syndics.
And sometimes in Vraet's own eyes as well.
Thrawn had violated the sacred traditions that governed the
Chiss. Well, if he had left it at that then Vraet would have been
able to live down the dishonor, but Thrawn didn't have the decency
to disappear into his exile. No, he had returned, and he had
committed the one unforgivable sin for a Chiss: he pledged fealty
to a foreign power.
The Traitor served in a foreign fleet, and worse, he
encouraged young Chiss to join him in his dishonorable pursuits,
thus weakening the Expansionary Defense Fleet. Whenever word
of his latest exploit spread where did the eyes of the High Families
turn to? Vraet.
He knew the other Syndics despised him, it was not merely
that they were suspicious of a House that had already birthed one
betrayer, but because he was a constant reminder of someone they
preferred to pretend never existed.
And of course, they all watched everything he did. All his
actions were suspected of having hidden motivations and duplicity,
considering his parentage. Vraet grimaced. Like all the Syndics
he'd been trained in warfare since childhood. He was an able
enough commander, he knew it: he had done well against the few
pirates and warlords who had tried to raid Chiss space. But he was
no Thrawn. At most he was only a poor copy of his father.
Vraet longed to be seen as more than that, but
Mith'raw'nuruodo cast a long, deep shadow and his heir had been
lost in that darkness all his life.
"What measures should we take?" Raine broke into his
thoughts. He turned and found her watching him calmly. His
mind snapped back to present concerns.
"Increase the phalanx patrols and monitor the House
frequencies for transmitions from Imperial territory. If the Traitor
makes a move in our direction, we'll be ready."
"And what about the threat he warned you about?" Raine
asked.
Vraet shook his head, chuckling a little. "Aliens are all
alike: savages. Not one of them can challenge the Chiss. Thrawn
was once one of us, and he has thousands of our own people
supporting him. That makes him by far the greatest threat to the
Chiss."
"If that's so then why hasn't the Expansionary Defense
Fleet organized an attack to drive him and his fleet out of the
Unknown Regions?" The commander tilted her head and asked
with seemingly genuine curiosity.
"Because that would be a pre-emptive strike, a sin by any
civilized being's reckoning." Vraet spun on her. "The Traitor
might have abandoned his people's beliefs, but he will not drag us
down into savagery with him."
"Perhaps," Raine didn't bat an eyelash at his flash of anger,
"or perhaps the High Families see how his actions benefit them."
"What?"
"The Traitor's campaigns against the savages beyond our
borders have reduced alien incursions into Chiss space. Their
raids are almost unheard-of these days." She crossed her arms.
"The result? The Families have peace without breaking the
traditions, they let the Traitor do their dirty work for them."
"Are you defending him?" Vraet's eyes flared like crimson
beacons, but his voice was soft and dangerous. He took a step
forward and there was less than a meter of space separating them.
"Of course not." Raine answered. "By its very nature the
Empire is a threat to Chiss sovereignty. I am only pointing out that
the main enemies of the Chiss might be closer than you think. A
few of them may even sit on the Council of Syndics."
"This is nonsense." Vraet responded. "The Syndics despise
Thrawn and what he stands for."
"And yet the High Families have made no move to curtail
its expansion into the Unknown Regions. Why?" She proceeded
to answer her own question. "Because by conquering the savages
the Empire has stopped the attacks that once plagued us and
validated the standing policies of the Syndics: they can continue to
claim they were right all along to follow the traditions to the letter.
"The Traitor provides another service as well: he recruits
dissatisfied commoners into the Empire, thus ridding the Chiss of
malcontents and troublemakers. The Syndics then find themselves
in a stronger position politically." She narrowed her eyes. "I have
reason to believe they continue to ignore Thrawn because of this,
but the stronger they allow him to become, the greater the enemy
we will eventually face. Syndics like you must be all the more
vigilant to make up for the failing of those who care more about
increasing their own power and prestige than for the safety of the
Chiss."
Vraet seemed about to say something, but then closed his
mouth and thought it over. He nodded. "Your analysis of the
situation is more thorough than mine." He said at last.
By now, Vraet knew better than to dismiss Raine's
observations out of hand. Raine wasn't a member of the noble
classes and he had gone against tradition in promoting her, but
nowhere was it explicitly said that a phalanx commander couldn't
be a commoner, not when the position. Officially commanders
simply carried out a Syndic's orders and so their state of birth
didn't matter, but in practice a phalanx commander often made
important decisions affecting a Syndic's House.
"I apologize if I spoke out of turn, Syndic." Raine said,
"but I couldn't serve you to the best of my abilities if I didn't-"
"No," he shook his head, "there's no need to apologize, I
welcome your input." Vraet relaxed a little and smiled. "If all I
wanted in a commander was unquestioning obedience and
agreement with whatever I said I would have selected a protocol
droid to lead my phalanx."
"Vraet, do you realize you've just made a joke?" Raine
returned his smile with a playful one of her own.
"I hadn't noticed." The Syndic stepped away and paced
back to the window. "Well Commander, what course of action do
you recommend?"
"Urge the other Syndics to declare war on the Traitor."
Raine said firmly. "The Expansionary Defense Fleet and the so-
call Unity Fleet are bound to clash eventually. The best thing we
can do is to be the one who choose the battleground." She stood
beside him at the window.
"That wont be easy. The High Families wont even publicly
acknowledge he even exists." He chuckled. "We Syndics are a
proud and stubborn lot, with a great capacity to ignore what is
inconvenient."
"You're not that bad." Raine leaned against him and curled
her arm around his shoulders. "You just need a good, swift kick
now and again, just to wake you up."
Vraet was surprised when a wide smile broke through his
carefully controlled visage. He shrugged and allowed himself to
relax against Raine. This was why he loved her: when they were
together he could be himself, without the fear of being judged he
always experienced around his peer and subordinates. She was the
only one who accepted him for who and what he was. She looked
at Vraet and saw only him, she didn't automatically measure
him against Thrawn and find his son wanting.
He would begin working on the other Syndics immediately.
The Chiss had tried to purge themselves of the sickness Thrawn
represented once before. They had failed and so that sickness had
spread throughout their society. This time they would do it right.
Vraet looked out across the cityscape, at all the people under his
protection, and vowed that they would never see a stormtrooper
marching down the streets of Homeworld, or feel the presence of a
Star Destroyer high overhead. The Empire would never touch
Homeworld!
Vraet's oath proved as accurate as a Jedi?s prophecy, and
like such prophecies it came to pass in a way he could never have
expected.
Or wished for.
************************************************
The Chiss shuttle limped into the Home system and was
picked up by Vraet's phalanx the next day. The small ship had
been badly damaged and began sending out distress signals on
exiting hyperspace. Syndic Vraet ordered the pilot, the shuttle's
sole occupant, brought directly to his flagship, the Guardian.
"Syndic," the thin, frightened-looking Chiss seemed ready
to cast himself on the deck at Vraet's feet, "thank the First
Families, I doubted my shuttle would make it through hyperspace
and I had to warn you, I-" he visibly pulled himself together and
donned the trademark Chiss composure. "Controller
Sorl'ekr'usufre of Yehal base reporting, Syndic." He snapped a
salute.
Vraet nodded. "Continue."
"Roughly two hours ago my base came under attack.
Imperial Star Destroyers. The sensors counted five of them before
they set up a jamming field."
The Syndic would've stood up straighter if it were possible.
Thrawn was making a bid to take the Chiss territory, and the base
in the Yehal system was the perfect jump-off point for a strike at
Homeworld itself!
"They ignored our communications and opened fire
immediately, half our defense ships were hit before they could get
off a shot, the others were flanked and surrounded. They brought
Interdictors to prevent anyone from running, then struck at the base
itself." Lekrus shuddered. "None were spared, not civilian
laborers, not the garrison's families, no one."
"How did you escape?" Raine asked.
"Partly through luck, Commander, partly through the
courage and skill of our fighter pilots. When they blocked our
transmitters Base Commander Holet realized the importance of
getting word to Homeworld. He ordered myself and a fighter
group to run the blockade using our most heavily-shielded shuttle.
My fighter escort was destroyed before they reached the edge of
the interdiction field, and me nearly with them."
He turned his gaze from the commander to the Syndic. The
survivor must be in shock: his eyes had a strange, dull quality.
They didn't brighten or dim with his emotions as those of the
average Chiss did. "The Traitor is massing his fleet for a strike at
Homeworld, if he's not stopped-"
"He will be." Vraet gripped Lekrus' shoulder. "You've
done well, and you may have saved your people." He looked at the
other Chiss' disheveled condition. "Are you injured?"
"No Syndic." He set his face into a grim expression. "I'm
ready to fight for my people."
"You'll get the chance." Vraet promised. He turned to the
nearby medic. "But take him to the infirmary and check him."
The doctor nodded as Vraet turned toward the door and walked
out, Raine matched his steps.
"How many of my ships can move out immediately?" He
asked.
"Most of the phalanx." She answered. "We're going to
counterattack?"
"Yes, immediately after I alert the other Syndics."
"Should we wait for them to send out ships of their own?"
"And waste time while they debated who should be in
command? No, my phalanx is easily strong enough to defeat five
Star Destroyers." They reached the turbolift and boarded. The
doors slid shut behind them and he pressed a button. Raine
blinked her crimson eyes, the only sign of surprise she showed: the
turbolift was moving down to the fighter and shuttle launch bay,
not up to the bridge.
"And it's not 'we,' you'll remain behind and take command
of the remaining ships and defenses." The commander narrowed
her eyes, but not before he caught the sudden flash of red
brilliance.
"May I ask why?" Her voice was deceptively level.
"Because I have ordered it so." He said coldly. "If I strike
now I can catch Thrawn by surprise and turn him back, perhaps
even kill him. If there are more Star Destroyers than the phalanx
can handle I will turn back and seek reinforcements from the other
Syndics." The turbolift reached its destination, but before the
doors could slide open Raine hit the DOOR-CLOSE button on the
panel, so fast he didn't perceive the movement of her arm from her
side to the controls.
"You should be the one remaining while I lead the attack."
She said bluntly. Vraet narrowed his eyes.
"You have your orders, Commander." He reached for
DOOR-OPEN button, but Raine knocked his hand away and
positioned herself between him and the controls. "What is this?"
He glared at her. "Who do you think you are?"
"I think I'm your phalanx commander," she shot back, "and
I think you owe me an explanation. It's my place to lead your
fleet, and if you think I am unfit for my duties then relieve me of
command." Their eyes locked for a few seconds, but this time
Vraet dropped his gaze.
"Commander," he paused, "Raine, this is important to me.
It's my chance to prove to the Syndics that I am not my father's
son, worthy of a place beside them." His eyes blazed up. "If I lead
an attack to protect our space then no one can doubt that I am a
loyal Chiss." He thought about not saying any more, but here, in
private, he felt he could be honest with Raine, and suddenly found
he needed to share his reasons with someone. "Besides," his
voice turned deadly, "I want to meet Thrawn in combat. I want to
prove, to him and to myself, that I'm the better man."
Vraet felt a little foolish after saying that. Raine wasn't of
the nobility, after all, she couldn't understand the ceaseless rules of
honor and pride that were drilled into every Syndic-to-be from
birth, the need to prove oneself worthy in the eyes of one's peers
and ancestors. He watched his commander closely, looked away
for a few seconds, then back at Vraet.
"I can see why you have to do this, Vraet, but..." for the
first time in years he saw her looking unsure of herself, "I've never
had any faith in hunches, intuition or nonsense like that, but when I
heard that man's report I felt," she hesitated a second, "afraid," she
rushed on, "and I had that same feeling just now, when you said
you intended to lead the counterattack."
"Raine," he took her by the shoulders, "I can lay down my
life in defense of the Chiss at any time, I accepted that a long time
ago. I am a Syndic: my life doesn't belong to me, but to the people
I protect, and if they are endangered my life or death will not
matter so long as the threat is turned back."
Raine grimaced. "I just don't like the idea of staying
behind while you go into battle, it makes me feel helpless." She
glared into his eyes. "I hate feeling helpless."
Vraet actually laughed. "Helpless? You're the strongest
person I know." He drew her close and kissed her. After an
eternity they parted. "You don't need to worry about anything."
He whispered. "Knowing you're waiting for me is a guarantee I'll
return safe."
Raine smiled a little. "Ever the optimist."
**************************************************
The Chiss warships and fighters fell into realspace midway
into the system, with a second wave set to follow in minutes. The
large and midsize capital ships of Vraet's Household phalanx flew
in classic formation while fighters and strike cruisers guarded the
outer perimeter or preceded the main fleet altogether. Standing on
the bridge of the Guardian, Vraet shifted his glowing eyes from
the view to the bridge crew's instrument readings. The
Guardian was in the forefront of the fleet, so Vraet was one of
the first to see the destination of the hastily-assembled battle
group.
"I want readings." He said to his captain. "Get an analysis
of what happened here."
"Sir," the Chiss saluted and relayed the orders to the
stunned bridge crew. There was good reason for their
astonishment: they had entered the system expecting to find
Imperial warships massing for an attack on the Homeworld, or
possibly the last parts of a battle being waged against the star-
spangled black background of space, not the complete devastation
that lay before them.
One thing was painfully clear: the fleet had arrived too late
to be of any help. The ruins of the base were as silent and peaceful
as a graveyard, and any enemies were long gone. Scorched and
twisted metal, the remains of defense stations, capital ships and
fighters, drifted slowly in the vacuum. Most of the debris had been
caught by the planet Yehal's gravity and was in orbit around the
world, being pulled gradually into the atmosphere.
But the planet itself...
Yehal wasn't exactly a world that had seemed made for the
Chiss: an unbreathable atmosphere, uncomfortable gravity, and
though the rate of rotation and distance from sun were such to
create conditions for life form to develope and thrive, Chiss would
never survive there. Not a good place for a colony or a resort spot,
in other words, but strategically it was a perfect place to set up a
base and outpost.
The initial survey teams had also found quite a few mineral
deposits and other natural resources a few centuries back and the
Families had decided to exploit that material wealth despite the
hardships that went with obtaining it. The mining communities on
the surface were situated underground or inside domed enclosures,
and the colonial miners had to don encounter suits to venture
outside. There was no talk of moving them out and setting up
mines on Homeworld, however.
A popular movement centered around the idea that
Homeworld's natural beauty should not be defiled had sprung up
centuries ago and had continued into recent years. According to
these activists the Chiss Homeworld itself should not be subjected
to mining and manufacturing industries. The Families had agreed
with this notion and had made it policy to rely on the natural
resources of those planets under Chiss control rather than use those
of Homeworld.
The sentient natives of Yehal hadn't caused any problems
for the colonists, not after the first few months anyway. The
natives were a primitive race: only just beginning to realize the
potential for fossil fuels and industrialization. They resented the
Chiss for claiming the natural resources that they needed for a real
industrial revolution, but since cannons and stone fortresses could
do little good against charrics and energy shields they had learned
to accept their place as subordinates on their own planet.
The Chiss themselves couldn't understand the natives?
attitude. So what if their control over Yehal's resources kept the
natives from moving beyond a medieval level of technology?
They were savages: given the opportunity they would ruin their
own world with pollution to invent better ways of killing one
another. Besides, they were left alone to govern their own affairs
so long as they avoided those parts of the planet the Chiss were
making use of. In exchange for this small service they now had the
benefit of living under the protection of the Chiss, who kept them
safe from both outsiders and their own barbaric impulses. By all
rights they should be grateful.
Unfortunately for the Chiss case their protection didn't
count for much, as it turned out, seeing as they were all dead.
Yehal's atmosphere had been transformed into thick,
swirling mass the color of red clay. Vraet couldn't see past the
cloud-cover to the surface, but judging by the unquiet movements
of the atmosphere, massive storms were raging across the world.
The comm channels received nothing from the colony, not from
the colonists themselves or even the primitive radio transmitions
that natives had recently invented. The system had been wiped
clean of life.
"I want fighter groups out and scouting," Vraet heard
himself say as old training took over, "whoever did this might still
be in-system." On the far side of the planet, for instance, or under
the cloud cover. A clever commander could hide an entire fleet in
a solar system. "And get me an analysis of the planet. I want to
know what happened here."
"Sir." The Captain relayed his orders to the obviously
stunned bridge crew, and Vraet saw sleek Chiss fighters streak
away from the battle group while the other ships took up a
defensive formation. Vraet struggled to assimilate the detestation
while mentally composing the address he would give before the
High Families. This was monstrous, an unheard-of violation of the
Chiss, so he thought as the Guardian moved closer to the planet
and a chunk of space station tumbled slowly past.
Someone would pay for this.
"Fighter reports are in," a bridge officer reported, "no sign
of enemy activity."
"Scan the wreckage." The Captain turned to the sensors
section.
"A preliminary scan shows ion trails and energy signatures
corresponding with Chiss propulsion systems and charrics," the
officer at the station said, glowing eyes never leaving the readouts,
"but no sign of alien weaponry." He peered closer as more
information scrolled down the screen. "Something odd, though.
There are traces of some odd substance."
"What kind of substance?" Vraet resisted the urge to go
over to the screen and take a look himself.
"It looks like some kind of plasma." The officer spoke at
last. "And there are minor gravitational anomalies all around the
planet."
"Like the disturbances made by an Interdictor?" The
Captain asked.
"No sir, but similar." More readings poured in from the
other ships. "And small chunks of some material I can't identify
are drifting out there as well. The fighter pilots say the debris
looks charred, as though by energy blasts from charric fire."
"And the planet?"
"Sensors can't penetrate the cloud cover, but from what we
can tell it looks like the air has been superheated. She might as
well be orbiting around the outermost edge of the sun."
Vraet maintained a calm appearance and clasped his hands
behind his back to keep from wringing them nervously. How
could Thrawn do this? Had he been so corrupted by the barbarians
that he no longer had any notion of honor? "See if some of the
fighters can get under that cloud cover," he said to the Captain, ?I
want a look at the surface. Have the fighters and gunships expand
their search of the system for signs of enemy activity and prepare
the medical bays. There may be survivors." He glanced out the
main viewport. "And contact Homeworld, the other Syndics must
know about this."
"Sir," the Captain began to relay the orders.
"Captain, Syndic," the officer at the sensors station turned
from the screens, "I'm getting some odd readings from the debris."
"What kind of readings?" Vraet looked at him.
"Some of the chunks aren't drifting anymore, they're
moving toward the Guardian."
"Escape pods?" The Captain asked.
"No, not the metal debris, sir." The officer clarified. "The
other kind."
Vraet moved to stand over the station. "Visual." A small
hologram of the Guardian appeared at the sensor chief's
command, a sleek, powerful capital ship as astheticly pleasing as
she was practical. Around the flagship, more than a dozen tiny
meteorites were converging.
"What in space are those?" The Captain murmured. They
were roughly the size of starfighters and, the Syndic noted as he
squinted red eyes at the hologram, they had the vague shape of
fighters as well.
"Get an enlarged image of one." Vraet said quickly. The
officer adjusted his controls for a few moments and a second
hologram appeared beside that of the Guardian. Vraet felt a
sense of relief when he saw the meteorite was clearly that: a
meteorite, though by some strange coincidence they did resemble
fighters. There was even a kind of crystalline growth on the top
that looked like a cockpit, and if Vraet looked closely enough he
could see how some of the pits and ridges could appear to be
weapon emplacements.
Still, just to be safe...
"Are the shields raised?" The Captain indicated an
affirmative. "Lock a tractor beam on one of those rocks and bring
it onboard." The Syndic said. "I want a closer look at it." The
launching bay doors opened and the meteorite was slowly drawn
toward the Guardian's maw.
"Sir, the Council of Syndics is responding to the
transmition." The comm officer reported.
"I'll take it in the conference room." Vraet turned to the
Captain, "notify me if anything-"
"Sir, I can't get a lock on the meteorite." The crewman at
the tractor beam's controls spoke up."
"Why not?" Vraet stopped and frowned in annoyance, he
needed to appraise the other Syndics.
"I can't explain it sir, the tractor beam keeps encountering
mini gravitational anomalies before it can take hold." He might
have said more, but the whistle of alarms from several stations
interrupted him.
"We've got multiple breaches in the energy shield!" A
crewman shouted. The main diagnostics display showed blinking
red areas in the energy shield around the Guardian's computer-
model. There were more than a dozen holes in the defensive field.
Vraet turned his crimson eyes to the hologram at the sensor
station. Small meteorites, so similar to starfighters, slowly closing
around the capital ship...
Something clicked.
"Extend the gravitational compensation field!" He shouted.
"And close the hanger!"
Too late.
The meteorite targeted by the tractor beam accelerated,
streaked up into the hanger like a spear into a whale's underbelly,
and the bridge floor heaved under Vraet, throwing the Syndic off
his feet.
*******************************************
When their comrade commenced his suicide-dive into the
infidel ship the other fifteen coralskippers fired into the holes
they'd made in the machine's energy shield. Rock-like projectiles
that were in reality spheres of chitin impacted the durasteel hull
and adhered to the metal while their porous surfaces released
highly corrosive solvents. The missiles sank into the melting hull.
The coralskipper pilots knew the Chiss fighters were even
now beginning to swarm them, but that didn't matter: the mission
was complete. True, the projectiles had made mere pinpricks in
the Guardian, but they would burst the instant they were inside,
and no barrier the infidels could erect would stop the many
creatures within, creatures bred to seek out a spacecraft's reactor
core, and when they got close enough to the core the chemicals in
their bodies would react in a most spectacular manner.
*******************************************
Vraet pulled himself up with the railway that surrounded
the upper bridge. Blood from a cut on his scalp trickled down his
face, he wiped it with a sleeve and spun around to face the bridge
stations. The power was out in half the monitors, the other half
showed only jumbles of meaningless symbols.
"Hull breaches on levels three and five!" One officer
shouted.
"Seal off the damaged sections," the Captain ordered, "and
lock the turbo charrics on those enemy vessels!"
The glowpanels and lights on the control stations winked
out, to be replaced a second later the much dimmer glow of
auxiliary power. The Captain forgot himself and cursed,
creatively, before recovering his composure. "The crash must have
taken out the main power."
"Confirmed sir, we're drifting."
"Captain, Syndic," a voice blared from the comm, terror
almost breaking through the trademark calmness of the Chiss, "the
alien projectiles have released some sort of creatures, insectoids,
into the ship."
"You were told to seal off the damaged areas!" Vraet
barked at the officer.
"I did, Lord."
"I can see them on the monitor," the voice from the comm
was talking, "they're eating through the blast doors, Families help
me they-Ahh-" the cry was cut short in a whoosh of air, then
nothing but the silence of vacuum.
"We need security in encounter suits down there!" Vraet
turned to another station. "Where are they?"
"Internal sensors indicate the things are making their way
to the reactor core." Vraet felt as though he'd been dipped in
icewater on hearing that. "I don't think we have time to stop
them."
Vraet and the Captain exchanged looks, the Syndic nodded
reluctantly. "Send out a Level Five alarm." The Captain said. "All
hands abandon ship."
"Sir..." a crewman from the helm.
What now? Vraet felt like groaning. He turned to the
helm, but didn't need to ask what the problem was.
The irregular shape of an alien fighter hovered into view
just beyond the main forward viewport. Vraet glimpsed a
humanoid shape behind the crystalline cockpit. A glance at the
diagnostics displays showed that a hole had been opened in the
forward shield.
The Captain saw this as well, and reacted instantly: he
struck the OPEN button beside the turbolift door with one fist,
then seized Vraet by the shoulders, pulled him back and threw him
into the open lift. As the door slid shut, Vraet saw bolts of plasma
streak from the corralskipper and shatter the transparisteel
protecting his bridge crew from the vacuum beyond.
**************************************************
Vraet braced himself against a corridor wall as the ship was
rocked by a miniature explosion. He turned a corner and found his
way blocked by blast doors: the Guardian's automated
countermeasures must still be in effect, the ship was sealing off the
damaged portions of itself to prevent the remaining crew from
being sucked into the vacuum. Unfortunately it also blocked off
the quickest route to the secondary shuttle bay.
Vraet uttered a string of curses he'd learned from Raine.
He had to admit it was very satisfying, even if it didn't do anything
to help his position. Once again his commander's knowledge of
the middle and lower levels of society proved useful.
He retraced his steps. He would have to take the longer
route to the shuttle bay. And he would have to hurry: the
insectoids would reach the reactor core soon, and Vraet didn't
want to be onboard when they did.
Despite the urgency the Syndic couldn't help but feel
reluctance to leave the Guardian to her fate. His flagship had
served him well over the years.
"Syndic!" An exclamation from behind him. He turned
and saw another Chiss hurrying down the corridor. "Thank the
Families your safe," he began to bow but Vraet stopped him.
"There's little time for pleasantries," he said quickly, "we
need to reach the shuttle bay, quickly."
"I've tried, blast doors are blocking the way." The
crewman's eyes were dull with shock.
"Only the quickest route." Vraet corrected. "This way."
He was about to turn and lead the way down the corridor when
something tugged at the back of his mind. He dismissed the
feeling. Hopefully there was a shuttle or escape pod remaining-
Vraet's companion flicked his wrist and a coufee slid from
his sleeve. He clapped a hand on Vraet's shoulder, spun him
around, stepped in close and buried the blade in the Syndic's
stomach.
Fire spiked through Vraet's midsection and into his
extremities. He gasped for air, eyes bulging. The pain seemed to
sharpen his senses though, facing the crewman, Vraet suddenly
remembered where he had seen the skinny Chiss with the
lackluster eyes before: it was Lekrus, the supposed survivor of the
'Imperial' attack, the one whose warning had brought Vraet here in
the first place.
His attacker grinned, showing white fangs, and drew his
blade up Vraet's abdomen in a single, sharp move before shoving
the disemboweled Chiss against the corridor wall. Blood sprayed
from the wound, splattering droplets on the attacker's uniform.
Vraet clutched at his rent midsection with one hand while
the other grabbed for the charric at his side. 'Lekrus' didn't move
to stop him. The false Chiss looked at his coufee, which was
already absorbing Vraet's blood into itself, and ran his tongue
across the blade before it could finish its meal.
He smacked his lips. "A little thin for my taste," he mused,
"but an interesting flavor."
Vraet had drawn his sidearm, only to see it slip from his
fingers as his muscles refused to clench. Strength leaked out of his
legs as well, and he slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
It was hard to focus his thoughts. Knife, must have
been... his mind struggled for the word, poisoned. The hand
clutching his stomach was covered in thick, hot liquid, and
something slippery and rope-like coiled around his fingers. He had
no desire to look down at the damage, even if his paralyzed body
was capable of movement.
The Yuuzhan Vong touched the side of his nose and the
blue ooglith masquer withdrew, revealing his scarred and tattoo-
covered face. He watched Vraet with red-dyed eyes and smiled.
"The gods will dine well this day."
Damn you, Father, was Vraet's last thought before the
world exploded, you were right again. Always right. Damn
you!
*****************************************************
Raine paced across the bridge of the Sentinel, apparently
observing the capital ship's crew at their stations. In reality she
was moving around to try and rid herself of nervous energy. The
gnawing fear hadn't left her since Vraet and the majority of his
phalanx had jumped into hyperspace. In fact, the unease had only
grown in that time. This was unlike any kind of pre-battle nerves
she'd ever experienced.
She allowed none of her worries to show, of course. No
member of the Chiss military, and certainly not an officer, would
ever appear less than completely in control. Besides, she had
always despised the widespread belief that females were unable to
handle themselves in times of crisis. That had been one of her
chief obstacles in joining the Defense Fleet, one that she had
surmounted with great difficulty.
Among the Chiss, tradition said that a female's place was
raising children and performing the domestic chores in her
husband's or father's household, and among the Chiss tradition was
as strong as law. In a way, she had Thrawn to thank for her
present circumstances: with so many young males leaving the
favoritism and generally unfair treatment of Homeworld to join the
Empire (numbers the High Families were still doing their best to
hide), the Families had no choice but to bend tradition and allow
females into the work force.
Some Chiss females, Raine included, had dared to try and
enlist in the Expansionary Defense Fleet. The training was
difficult, and they were unwanted by soldiers and officers alike.
Only the most dedicated had succeeded, out of those a mere
handful had actually seen combat, and only Raine had reached a
command position.
But be honest, would you be here at all if you weren't
Vraet's lover? A nagging, spiteful voice whispered from the back
of her mind. The red glow of her eyes increased by several shades.
Yes, she had to admit her relationship with Vraet was a factor, but
that only convinced him to treat her fairly and acknowledge her
ability. Vraet was no fool, and he wouldn't promote someone to
the rank of phalanx commander just because he was sleeping with
her. Skill, intelligence and courage were the only qualities a
Syndic looked for in choosing his officers.
But as much as she loved Vraet, it still hurt to think that
she hadn't done it all on her own.
Raine had always been most comfortable aboard a ship.
She loved the sense of freedom, knowing the hyperdrive could take
her across Chiss space with just a few jumps. She turned her gaze
outward, past the forward viewport, but even the sight of
Homeworld, slowly rotating with white clouds dancing gently
across her atmosphere, failed to soothe the commander.
Advancement would have probably come easier if she had
joined the Unity Fleet under Mith'raw'nuruodo, and she could see
the whole of the galaxy in the service of the Empire, but the
thought of deserting had never even crossed her mind. She was
Chiss: she loved her Homeworld and her people, even if she hated
the blind, backward old men who ruled them.
In spite of everything, Raine had to admit she was happy:
she had authority, the respect of her peers, superiors and
subordinates, the power to defend her people, and of course, she
had Vraet.
The Syndic was the only one who understood her, who
didn't try to define her by the standards of behavior the rest of
society adhered to: as either a female, docile and obedient, or an
officer, remote and unapproachable. He accepted her for who she
was.
She knew that last case wouldn't last. The Syndic was still
young, but eventually he would have to marry and produce an heir.
He would be expected to wed a female of the noble classes, which
Raine wasn't, and once that happened all they shared would stop,
leaving nothing but the professional relationship between a Syndic
and his phalanx commander. Apart from the need to avoid
scandal, Vraet would never break his marriage vows: he was too
honorable for that, one of the reason she'd fallen for him in the
first place.
She was thankful, though, that at least she hadn't been born
into the noble classes. As a child she had watched the elegant,
bejeweled noblewomen with envy on the rare occasions when one
had appeared in a public place, but Raine had grown into a very
practical adult and knew that, whatever the circumstances, the
Chiss rulers would never allow their female counterparts to be
anything more than ornaments.
Protected and cared for at all times, Chiss noblewomen
never permitted to exert themselves, physically or mentally: they
weren't to leave their family's estates except in cases of extreme
necessity, and all the household duties and decisions were made by
servants. They weren't even allowed to raise their own children.
A staff of nannies, governesses, tutors and, for the boy-children,
retired officers to teach them proper standards of behavior,
handled that. A Chiss lady could go for weeks at a time without
even seeing her progeny.
Perhaps that was the real reason for her unease. There was
something she had to tell Vraet, and she was afraid to. She was
afraid of what his reaction would be.
"Commander, we are receiving a signal from the
Guardian," the comm officer said. "It's a transmition of the First
Priority to the Syndics of every House."
Raine went into the adjoining conference room and waited
with holograms of all the Syndics on Homeworld for Vraet's
appearance.
They were still waiting a few minutes later when The
Long Reach of Death appeared in the system.
**************************************************
A few Chiss ships and fighters were sent out to investigate
the massive object intruding on their space and moving slowly
towards Homeworld, unwilling to believe something so vast and
utterly devoid of metal or electrical signatures could be a vessel
crafted by alien hands. When the scouts were crushed in much the
way a being would swat an insect that annoyed him, the portion of
the Expansionary Defense Fleet assigned to protect Homeworld
quickly mustered for an attack.
Aptly named, the worldship was shaped on the scale of a
small planetoid, its ridges and craters concealing thousands of
powerful dovin basals, oceans of plasma and projectiles with the
speed, accuracy and explosive power of missiles. It's vulnerable
internal organs were hidden away, deep beneath layers of yorrik
coral hardened to match the strength of durasteel.
Worst of all, it had a yammosk.
**************************************************
The war coordinator was squirming with pleasure now that
it finally had the chance to do what it was shaped for. At its
orders, the worldship stopped moving and waited for the Chiss
fleet to begin its assault, thus freeing up all the dovin basals for
defensive purposes. The yammosk ordered half the dovin basals to
concentrate on defense while the other half stripped the Chiss
vessels of their shields and worked to interfere with their
maneuvers.
When the infidel ships were in range the yammosk sent an
order to the corralskipper pilots in the caves and canyons of the
worldship?s surface, telling them to launch and engage the enemy
fighters while the Long Reach dealt with the larger vessels.
His mind joined to the vast consciousness of the yammosk,
Sang Anor was aware of its decisions and gave his approval. In
the yammosk's vast, rounded chamber at the very center of the
worldship, the Executor stood beside the yammosk on a pillar of
coral that stretched halfway to the ceiling, positioning the great,
bulbus shape of the war coordinator at the exact center of the
room.
A ring of villips encircled the room, connected directly to
the outermost sensory organs. Using a tiny part of its mental
energy, the yammosk had combined the visual information to
create a real-time representation of the battle below them.
Across the room floated the green-blue world of the Chiss,
its diameter about the length of both Sang Anor?s arms, turning
slowly, unaware that the judgement of the gods was upon her and
all that lived and breathed on her surface. The Long Reach of
Death was near the foot of the pedestal. About a quarter of the
planet's size, and streaking toward the worldship was the Chiss
fleet, capital ships smaller than a finger-joint and fighters the size
of dustmites.
Sang Anor stepped away from the yammosk and walked
slowly down the spiral stairway that ringed its pedestal. He
stepped onto the floor and into the midst of the space battle.
Titanic but unseen, like one of the gods themselves, he walked
among the images that chased one another, shooting brief, bright
blue darts of energy and yellow threads of plasma.
He turned his eyes to one of the infidel vessels. "Expand
this image, I want a closer look." He didn't need to raise his voice
or indicate which part of the battle he meant. His bond with the
yammosk communicated all that with the instinctive speed of
thought.
A bubble surrounded the capital ship. The bubble and the
image within swelled to give Sang Anor a more detailed view.
The yammosk directed its dovin basals to strip the battleship of its
shields. The dovin basals seized the Chiss vessel and immobilized
it while the yammosk guided three missiles to strike key points on
the ship. The missiles, about the size of coralskippers, were
controlled by small, very limited brains, but the yammosk guided
the living projectiles with pinpoint accuracy. The capital ship
vanished in a plume of fire, quickly extinguished by the cold of
space.
A sensible person would say it was sheer insanity to attack
the Chiss Homeworld, the heart of what was probably the greatest
power in the Unknown Regions. After considering what he'd
learned from Wras, their Chiss convert, and from the disguised
agents he'd sent to the target planet, he had concluded that the
Chiss reputation for invincible strength was largely illusionary.
While their soldiers were well-trained and their equipment
was advanced, the Chiss officers and commanders were
inexperienced, chosen more for breeding than ability. The Chiss
hadn't fought a war in close to a thousand years and the
Expansionary Defense Fleet was a hodgepodge of ships from every
phalanx, with each division answering to their own commanders
and Syndics rather than to any centralized command.
Communication and coordination between the phalanxes was slow
and sloppy.
This arrangement worked well when it came to defending
their boarders, but it couldn't compare to the power of the
Yuuzhan Vong. Sang Anor's conclusion: the Chiss were in
decline, vulnerable to attack.
The worldship's dovin basals absorbed the volleys of blue
energy bolts sent by the tiny Chiss vessels, then leisurely targeted
ten at a time for destruction while the coralskippers, coordinated
by the yammosk and piloted by beings who were literally one with
their ships, tore through the Chiss fighters.
Quite a show, but for Sang Anor it was only a side
performance. The main event was still to come.
He looked across the room at the Chiss planet, now almost
undefended, and as if on cue the eight desk hai which had dropped
out of hyperspace on the opposite side of the system closed in on
the planet.
"I think I may have miscalculated."
The sentence seemed to hang suspended in the air between
them. Then Thrawn was up and moving and Parck realized that
the sounds had lasted only seconds, now they existed only in his
mind.
The Grand Admiral was at his command chair, calling up
holograms of the Unknown Regions and the sectors of space the
Empire controlled. He displayed the current positions of all their
ships and bases and the hyperspace routes connecting them, then
highlighted a base near the edge of their territory and more than
thirty Star Destroyers, all those that could reach the marked planet
quickly.
Parck turned away from the inert villip and took a hesitant
step toward the seated Chiss. It seemed to him he should say
something, either to ask what the Admiral was doing or if he
should excuse himself, only he couldn't think of the right words.
There was no need. Thrawn finished his strategizing,
copied the information onto a datacard and slipped it into a
datapad, then got up and walked toward Parck.
"Contact Moff Niriz and have him order these Star
Destroyers to rendezvous at the outpost in the Cavexil system." He
handed Parck the datapad. "Then report to the hanger bay with
General Beyin. I'll join you there soon." He turned back the chair.
"We'll take a shuttle to the Annihilator," he named the only
undamaged Star Destroyer from their strike at Orune Prime, it had
entered the system only after most of the fighting was over,
carrying the exiled nobility and their chosen Monarch back to
Orune Prime, "have Commander Veenir take the Imperitor to
Orrsa for repairs, we'll be heading for the Cavexil system in the
Annihilator."
"That's where the Vong will strike?" Parck asked. "You
know what Sang Anor intends to do?"
"No, there wont be an attack on Cavexil and yes, I know
what the Executor is planning, I knew it immediately." He said
impatiently. "He wants to strike at me, personally, Captain. What
is the best way he can do that?" He gestured to the hologram.
Parck studied the star chart for a moment, first in
bafflement and then with dawning comprehension. The Cavexil
outpost was where most of the young Chiss recruits passed through
on their way to join Unity Fleet, the base sat on a hyperspace route
leading directly to...
"The Chiss homeworld!" Parck exclaimed.
"By the Families I pray we can stop him in time." Thrawn
was punching coordinates into his holopad.
"But that can't be his target! Sir, striking at Chiss space is
insanity!"
"And Sang Anor is insane." Thrawn said grimly. "If he
wasn't before, he is now. That is what I failed to consider." He
finished setting the transceivers. "I have a transmition of my own
to make. We'll be leaving immediately afterwards."
"But sir, if this is all just based on a hunch-"
"What you call a 'hunch,' Captain, is the result of the
subconscious putting together clues and signs the conscious mind
has failed to notice," Thrawn said in a distracted manner, "now
carry out your orders."
"Yes sir." Parck saluted and hurried toward the door.
"One thing more, Captain." Thrawn turned his glowing
eyes to the villip. "Take that with you, we may need it."
**********************************************
The signal shot through hyperspace in an instant and
located its targets. Thrawn stood on his holopad, nervous but of
course not showing it, and waited for a response.
A minute passed, then two, then ten. Finally two
holograms appeared before him, fuzzy at first, then solidified.
Two Chiss males, each wearing the ornate but practical uniform of
a Syndic, but otherwise as different in appearance as dawn was to
dusk.
The one on the left was thin and aged, though he stood
straight and unbent. His hair and beard were tinged blue by the
hologram but in person would be white as snow. His seamed,
craggy face was as ready to laugh as to adopt a stern demeanor,
though it leaned toward the latter for the moment as he regarded
Thrawn with a guarded expression.
While he was significantly older than Thrawn, the other
Syndic was somewhat younger than the Grand Admiral, clean
shaven, with his black hair as neatly trimmed as the older one's
white. While a human observer might have said the young Chiss
was calm and reserved, in Thrawn's eye he radiated unconcealed
fury.
"Syndic Taesk," he inclined his head to the elder Chiss,
then turned to the younger. He paused a moment before repeated
the gesture. "Syndic Vraet." He met the other's glowing gaze, not
at all softened by light years of distance. "Greetings."
"It has been a long time, Mith'raw'nuruodo." Taesk's voice
was as strong and clear as ever, a voice that could inspire as well
as command.
"I know, and regrettably circumstances will not let our
reunion be a pleasant one. I'm contacting you to send a warning to
the Chiss. I believe Homeworld will come under attack, soon."
"And you surmised that we were the only Syndic's who
would deign to speak with you." Taesk concluded reluctantly.
"Yours was the only voice raised in my defense during the
trial." Thrawn reminded him. He turned his attention to Vraet. "I
doubted you would answer me at all." He said carefully.
"So the great Mith'raw'nuruodo made a mistake." The
young Syndic said shortly. "What a surprise. My views haven't
changed. I only answered your call because I feared you would try
to contact my House in some other way if I ignored you."
Thrawn felt a lump beginning to form in his throat, but he
quashed it and made himself speak casually. "Is Kethria well?"
He asked as though it were a trivial matter.
"She is none of your concern!" Vraet barked, composure
forgotten momentarily. "And I will not disturb her by delivering a
message from you, so don?t ask."
For a moment Thrawn was unable to form a response.
"Your mother is more resilient than you may think." He said at
last.
"Let's make one thing clear from the start. I am the Syndic
of my House," Vraet's eyes burned, "I decide what is in the best
interest of all those under my protection. You have no place here.
No bonds. No family. No voice in how this House functions.
Not any longer." His eyes were glittering slits. "Say whatever you
have to say."
"Yes. Who would dare attack us?" Taesk raised his head.
"An alien race from beyond the known galaxy." Thrawn
said. "They call themselves the Yuuzhan Vong. They utilize an
exotic, organic technology that is equal to our most advanced
machinery and they employ this technology on a mission of
conquest. They were responsible for the plagues that ravaged the
worlds under my protection a short while ago, and that the least of
what they are capable of." Thrawn shifted his stance. "I recently
frustrated their plans and I believe their commander will strike at
Homeworld in retaliation.
"I advise you to deploy your ships defensively throughout
Home system and reset your scanners to detect organic matter.
Their ships do not have ion engines, but use creatures called dovin
basals which warp gravity in order to propel the vessels, so watch
for gravitational anomalies. These dovin basals can also strip a
vessel of its energy shield, but simulation strategy suggests this can
be negated by expanding the ship's gravitational compensator.
The enemy leader has been known to strike quickly and
unexpectedly, so the attack could be imminent. You may need my
aid. I can muster thirty Star Destroyers now, with more later. I
can have them in your space before the day is out."
"And we are to convince the Syndics of the other Great
Families to allow an alien fleet into our space?" Taesk's tone was
more admonishing than angry, as though telling Thrawn he should
know better. Vraet's response wasn't nearly as calm.
"I knew you would try to cow the Chiss into putting
themselves under your 'protection' sooner or later, as you have
with the barbarian races of this region, but I overestimated your
intelligence. Or perhaps you think our isolationist policies have
made us gullible to the trickery of outsiders." Vraet spoke with
tightly-controlled rage.
"You offer up a ludicrous and completely unheard-of threat
and blame it for the plagues you have brought from your barbarian
Empire, plagues which have cost many of the young and foolish
Chiss you duped into serving you their lives, then you use this
tradgety as an opportunity to annex us." He narrowed his eyes.
"I'm insulted. It's clear you have nothing of worth to say." He
reached out, probably to a control panel outside the hologram's
range to cut off the transmition.
"Wait." Taesk didn't raise his voice, but Vraet's hand froze
as though the young Syndic had been flash-frozen in carbonite.
"While allowing an Imperial fleet into our space is indeed out of
the question, I believe we should hear him out."
"Surely you don't believe this nonsense?" Vraet turned
slightly to the left, where Taesk's image was doubtless being
projected for him.
"It's because it sound like nonsense that I'm inclined to
listen." The elder Chiss answered. "If Mith'raw'nuruodo's aim
was deceit he would have chosen a more convincing story."
"You were always quick to rush to his defense," Vraet's
eyes glowed with soft menace, "and yet it is I who the other
Syndics so often turn their suspicions on." He turned back to
Thrawn. "If there is a threat to Chiss space, the Expansionary
Defense Fleet with meet it. But it is you and your rabble of aliens
and traitors who are highest on our list of enemies."
Thrawn's eyes flashed with anger. "The Empire has never
moved against Chiss space, not since I engaged and defeated
Kinman Doriana's strike force, and they never will. I have the
Emperor's personal guarantee that your borders and sovereignty
will be respected." Thrawn felt a nervous fluttering in the pit of
his stomach when he said that: the Sith didn't exactly have a stellar
reputation when it came to keeping their word. True, Palpatine
had mostly left the Hapes Consortium alone and the Chiss were in
a similar position: both were strong and ancient cultures, but
tucked in out-of-the way spots and generally unconcerned with
events in the greater galaxy.
On the other hand, with the power of a Death Star at his
disposal would the Emperor tolerate even one world that didn't
swear fealty to him?
The Grand Admiral let none of his doubts show, of course,
either in tone or expression.
"Besides, the Emperor's vision is the way of the future,"
Thrawn continued, "I knew it the first time I spoke with Doriana.
Palpatine is bringing peace, order and prosperity to the galaxy."
"It's as the Families have said," Vraet sneered, "you've
become infected by the barbarian cultures." He looked at
Thrawn's hard-won Grand Admiral's uniform and command bars
as though he were wearing the skins and feathers of a savage. In
Vraet's eyes he probably was. "On Homeworld we still keep the
old precepts."
"You mean the practice of pretending the universe ends
outside your borders?" Thrawn shot back. "The customs that tell
us never to innovate or adapt our methods and then call this
complacency 'being honorable?'" Thrawn said with icy contempt.
"I saw where following those customs has lead us: the fleets are
commanded by inexperienced fools who've never seen combat,
and beyond our boarders entire sectors are in a storm of chaos. It
was only a matter of time before that maelstrom spilled over into
our space, and we weren't prepared. I attempted to take an active
role in defending our people and was branded on outcast."
Bitterness tinged his voice.
"Once the Chiss could have been the one great power in
this galaxy, but we let the chance slip through our fingers. Instead
we settled for simply protecting what we have. Well, Palpatine is
the guiding force in the galaxy now, so why should the Syndics be
angered at my actions? Our goals are the same: that the Chiss be
left alone."
"You've abandoned your heritage. Those customs you
speak so disparagingly of have served us well ever since they were
handed down to us a thousand years ago by Emperor
Bruen'ris'telokru himself." Vraet named the Chiss leader who
united his race and conquered the area of the Unknown Regions
known as Chiss Space. After his death, his rule was taken up
jointly by his male relatives, who founded the First Families
"It was Enrist who concluded that we have all we had all
the space we needed, and that ruling a galaxy-spanning empire was
not only a pointless vanity but dangerous as well, as we would risk
polluting our culture with barbarian influences." The young Chiss
twisted his mouth in disgust. "I suppose you still practice the
perversion of studying alien art, as if those inferior minds could
ever produce anything useful."
"I'm impressed, Vraet," Thrawn clenched his teeth to keep
from shouting at the young Chiss, "you can replay the official
version of history as well as any recording." He glanced at Taesk.
"I'm surprised you never encouraged him to dig deeper into his
heritage as you did with me."
"What are you talking about?" Vraet asked.
"Enrist was an old man when he made that proclamation.
Tired of fighting, he wanted to settle down, consolidate and build a
future for the Chiss. There was nothing wrong with that, but his
isolationist policy wasn't intended to keep us pure, but to maintain
his image as the greatest war-leader in Chiss history. By making
our borders static, he guaranteed that no later Chiss could ever
achieve victories that would exceed his.
"There was another motive for his decision, though,"
Thrawn went on, apparently oblivious to Vraet's mounting fury,
"Enrist had sent out scouting missions to unknown sections of the
galaxy, those scouts brought him news of the Old Republic. He
knew that if the Chiss conquered a vast empire in the Unknown
Regions then sooner or later they would encounter the Old
Republic and come into conflict with them, a conflict he doubted
we would win. Enrist feared the strength of the Republic and the
power of the Jedi Knights, and so he made his laws and got what
he wanted: to be emperor of a pocket of space that no one more
than a few sectors away will ever hear of and to have his name and
memory worshiped for a thousand years. All the while his
kingdom was and remains in decline."
"I have better things to do than waste my time debating
history with an outcast!" Vraet shouted. "If a barbarian power
threatens Chiss space it will be met and crushed, the traditions that
you flouted are a better guarantee of victory than the promises of
an alien Emperor." He reached for the disconnect button. "As for
you, you're welcome to play with your fleet and squander your
time trying to hold a rabble of inferior species together, but so
much as cast a shadow in our space and I will personally lead the
Defense Fleet in crushing you!" The hologram dissolved, leaving
Thrawn and Taesk. For a few moments neither spoke.
"I didn't handle that well." Thrawn finally said. "I really
didn't think he'd answer me, and having all those old, ignorant
arguments used against me..." he shook his head, "how could
Kethria turn him against me like that?"
"Don't judge them too harshly, Thrawn." Taesk put in.
"They never understood why you defied the traditions, and things
were very hard for them after your exile. There were even some
doubts about whether or not Vraet was suitable to succeed you. He
had to prove himself to the other Syndics." The elder Chiss folded
his hands. "He isn't you, but he's still a good and just Syndic.
Your House is lucky to have him."
"I know, my friend." Thrawn grimaced. "It was a difficult
decision, but at least they had you to help them."
Taesk nodded. "I take it Beyin is still with you?"
"Yes. He's doing his people a great service, even if they
refuse to acknowledge him."
"Thrawn, there are times I envy you and Beyin. You were
my two best pupils, and your courage shames me."
"No, without your influence I would have become as blind
and complacent as the others."
Taesk chuckled. "True, I saw the flaws in our culture and
encouraged you to open your eyes and your mind, but you went
further than I ever dreamed of. You defied the Families and the
traditions." His face took on a stern cast. "Half the time I'm proud
of you, the other half I wish I'd never set eyes on you. I don't yet
know if your actions have saved the Chiss or will prove the ruin of
our people."
"I feel the same way sometimes." Thrawn confided. "But
I've thrown my lot in with Palpatine and I will rise or fall with the
Empire." He shrugged. "But these are old arguments, and the new
threat we face is real."
"You truly believe these barbarians will move against us?"
Taesk's tone was frankly disbelieving.
"I do. There may be Yuuzhan Vong already on
Homeworld: they have creatures called ooglith masquers that
behave as a second skin, allowing the wearers to assume the form
of humanoid species. They can also counterfeit the red eyes of our
people."
"Savages can pass for Chiss?" Taesk was shocked.
"And they may know enough about our culture and
language to navigate Chiss society: not too long ago one of my TIE
Advanced fighters disappeared near space I now know to be
controlled by the Yuuzhan Vong. The pilot, a Chiss named
Kirdw'ras'sinugo, could have been made to tell them much if the
aliens took him prisoner."
"I'll keep watch," Taesk promised, "it was good to speak to
you again, but remember, Vraet was right: Imperial ships are not
welcome in Chiss space. Pass our borders and you put yourself at
risk." Now it was the older Syndic's turn to reach for his control
panel. His hologram disappeared, leaving Thrawn alone in his
chamber.
"I'll have to take that chance." The Grand Admiral said to
himself as he made for the shuttle bay.
**********************************************
"Blast him." Vraet muttered as he turned away from the
holopad, his glowing eyes looked inward, not seeing the rooms
surrounding him. Testament to how one could get used to even the
most amazing sights. The Syndic's personal rooms, like the rest of
the palace, was a masterpiece combining elegance with practicality
and the importance of the military to the Chiss mind. The
spacious chambers opened into one another to provide a greater
sense of space, but could be quickly sealed off into separate areas
for the sake of privacy, or for defensive purposes in case the palace
was attacked.
Three of the walls were decorated with soothing, mosaic
patterns, the other outdid them: it was a curving, floor-to-ceiling
window that provided a view of the city beyond. The window was
so clear a bird might be fooled into trying to fly through it, but the
substance could withstand anything short of a turbo charric
barrage.
Not that there was any real danger of fighting on the Chiss
Homeworld itself, but the palace had been built nearly a millennia
ago, when Syndics were more than a little suspicious of one
another's motives and strengths in their new newly-united society.
As far as one could see, even with a Chiss' exceptional
vision, were the buildings and structures of the city, all smooth
lines and elegant architecture built to coexist with the planet's
natural beauty rather than replacing it. Even the poorest Chiss had
the means to incorporate some aesthetic value into their homes and
selves, but all following a practical purpose.
And every Chiss in the city and the region beyond was
under Vraet's protection.
It was a Syndic's duty to care for his people. Widows,
orphans and the elderly had to be provided for, along with basic
education for the young and higher education for those with skill
but without means. Vraet was also responsible for building and
maintaining public structures and passing judgement over disputes
or crimes. All this in addition to a Syndic's main duty, to
defending his people from enemies of the Chiss.
"So that was Mith'raw'nuruodo," the Chiss female crossed
the room to stand beside him. "He doesn't look like the madman
the High Families have painted him to be, despite the savage's
clothing he wore." She said dryly.
"Yes, he's a living legend." He said bitterly, turning his
head to meet her crimson gaze. Raine had commanded Vraet's
House phalanx for the past seven years, an unheard-of position for
a female Chiss, but by now no soldier of in the entire Expansionary
Defense Fleet could question her ability. "And his name is never
to be spoken. By order the High Families he no longer exists."
"A difficult prospect, considering his exploits are all the
commoners talk about."
The Syndic grimaced. "You're right. Do you believe his
gall?" He ground his teeth. "To think he can frighten us into
giving in to the Empire." He paced to the window and back to her.
"He's a menace and a traitor to his people." And to his House,
he thought. "A pity the High Families didn't execute him when they
had the oppurtunity. I would have."
Raine looked at him sharply. "Your own father?"
"I would have done so with my own hands if I'd been old enough to use
a charric." His voice seemed to freeze the air. His father, the
great Traitor. The name of Mith'raw'nuruodo had followed Vraet
all his life, polluting him, infecting him in the eyes of the other
Syndics.
And sometimes in Vraet's own eyes as well.
Thrawn had violated the sacred traditions that governed the
Chiss. Well, if he had left it at that then Vraet would have been
able to live down the dishonor, but Thrawn didn't have the decency
to disappear into his exile. No, he had returned, and he had
committed the one unforgivable sin for a Chiss: he pledged fealty
to a foreign power.
The Traitor served in a foreign fleet, and worse, he
encouraged young Chiss to join him in his dishonorable pursuits,
thus weakening the Expansionary Defense Fleet. Whenever word
of his latest exploit spread where did the eyes of the High Families
turn to? Vraet.
He knew the other Syndics despised him, it was not merely
that they were suspicious of a House that had already birthed one
betrayer, but because he was a constant reminder of someone they
preferred to pretend never existed.
And of course, they all watched everything he did. All his
actions were suspected of having hidden motivations and duplicity,
considering his parentage. Vraet grimaced. Like all the Syndics
he'd been trained in warfare since childhood. He was an able
enough commander, he knew it: he had done well against the few
pirates and warlords who had tried to raid Chiss space. But he was
no Thrawn. At most he was only a poor copy of his father.
Vraet longed to be seen as more than that, but
Mith'raw'nuruodo cast a long, deep shadow and his heir had been
lost in that darkness all his life.
"What measures should we take?" Raine broke into his
thoughts. He turned and found her watching him calmly. His
mind snapped back to present concerns.
"Increase the phalanx patrols and monitor the House
frequencies for transmitions from Imperial territory. If the Traitor
makes a move in our direction, we'll be ready."
"And what about the threat he warned you about?" Raine
asked.
Vraet shook his head, chuckling a little. "Aliens are all
alike: savages. Not one of them can challenge the Chiss. Thrawn
was once one of us, and he has thousands of our own people
supporting him. That makes him by far the greatest threat to the
Chiss."
"If that's so then why hasn't the Expansionary Defense
Fleet organized an attack to drive him and his fleet out of the
Unknown Regions?" The commander tilted her head and asked
with seemingly genuine curiosity.
"Because that would be a pre-emptive strike, a sin by any
civilized being's reckoning." Vraet spun on her. "The Traitor
might have abandoned his people's beliefs, but he will not drag us
down into savagery with him."
"Perhaps," Raine didn't bat an eyelash at his flash of anger,
"or perhaps the High Families see how his actions benefit them."
"What?"
"The Traitor's campaigns against the savages beyond our
borders have reduced alien incursions into Chiss space. Their
raids are almost unheard-of these days." She crossed her arms.
"The result? The Families have peace without breaking the
traditions, they let the Traitor do their dirty work for them."
"Are you defending him?" Vraet's eyes flared like crimson
beacons, but his voice was soft and dangerous. He took a step
forward and there was less than a meter of space separating them.
"Of course not." Raine answered. "By its very nature the
Empire is a threat to Chiss sovereignty. I am only pointing out that
the main enemies of the Chiss might be closer than you think. A
few of them may even sit on the Council of Syndics."
"This is nonsense." Vraet responded. "The Syndics despise
Thrawn and what he stands for."
"And yet the High Families have made no move to curtail
its expansion into the Unknown Regions. Why?" She proceeded
to answer her own question. "Because by conquering the savages
the Empire has stopped the attacks that once plagued us and
validated the standing policies of the Syndics: they can continue to
claim they were right all along to follow the traditions to the letter.
"The Traitor provides another service as well: he recruits
dissatisfied commoners into the Empire, thus ridding the Chiss of
malcontents and troublemakers. The Syndics then find themselves
in a stronger position politically." She narrowed her eyes. "I have
reason to believe they continue to ignore Thrawn because of this,
but the stronger they allow him to become, the greater the enemy
we will eventually face. Syndics like you must be all the more
vigilant to make up for the failing of those who care more about
increasing their own power and prestige than for the safety of the
Chiss."
Vraet seemed about to say something, but then closed his
mouth and thought it over. He nodded. "Your analysis of the
situation is more thorough than mine." He said at last.
By now, Vraet knew better than to dismiss Raine's
observations out of hand. Raine wasn't a member of the noble
classes and he had gone against tradition in promoting her, but
nowhere was it explicitly said that a phalanx commander couldn't
be a commoner, not when the position. Officially commanders
simply carried out a Syndic's orders and so their state of birth
didn't matter, but in practice a phalanx commander often made
important decisions affecting a Syndic's House.
"I apologize if I spoke out of turn, Syndic." Raine said,
"but I couldn't serve you to the best of my abilities if I didn't-"
"No," he shook his head, "there's no need to apologize, I
welcome your input." Vraet relaxed a little and smiled. "If all I
wanted in a commander was unquestioning obedience and
agreement with whatever I said I would have selected a protocol
droid to lead my phalanx."
"Vraet, do you realize you've just made a joke?" Raine
returned his smile with a playful one of her own.
"I hadn't noticed." The Syndic stepped away and paced
back to the window. "Well Commander, what course of action do
you recommend?"
"Urge the other Syndics to declare war on the Traitor."
Raine said firmly. "The Expansionary Defense Fleet and the so-
call Unity Fleet are bound to clash eventually. The best thing we
can do is to be the one who choose the battleground." She stood
beside him at the window.
"That wont be easy. The High Families wont even publicly
acknowledge he even exists." He chuckled. "We Syndics are a
proud and stubborn lot, with a great capacity to ignore what is
inconvenient."
"You're not that bad." Raine leaned against him and curled
her arm around his shoulders. "You just need a good, swift kick
now and again, just to wake you up."
Vraet was surprised when a wide smile broke through his
carefully controlled visage. He shrugged and allowed himself to
relax against Raine. This was why he loved her: when they were
together he could be himself, without the fear of being judged he
always experienced around his peer and subordinates. She was the
only one who accepted him for who and what he was. She looked
at Vraet and saw only him, she didn't automatically measure
him against Thrawn and find his son wanting.
He would begin working on the other Syndics immediately.
The Chiss had tried to purge themselves of the sickness Thrawn
represented once before. They had failed and so that sickness had
spread throughout their society. This time they would do it right.
Vraet looked out across the cityscape, at all the people under his
protection, and vowed that they would never see a stormtrooper
marching down the streets of Homeworld, or feel the presence of a
Star Destroyer high overhead. The Empire would never touch
Homeworld!
Vraet's oath proved as accurate as a Jedi?s prophecy, and
like such prophecies it came to pass in a way he could never have
expected.
Or wished for.
************************************************
The Chiss shuttle limped into the Home system and was
picked up by Vraet's phalanx the next day. The small ship had
been badly damaged and began sending out distress signals on
exiting hyperspace. Syndic Vraet ordered the pilot, the shuttle's
sole occupant, brought directly to his flagship, the Guardian.
"Syndic," the thin, frightened-looking Chiss seemed ready
to cast himself on the deck at Vraet's feet, "thank the First
Families, I doubted my shuttle would make it through hyperspace
and I had to warn you, I-" he visibly pulled himself together and
donned the trademark Chiss composure. "Controller
Sorl'ekr'usufre of Yehal base reporting, Syndic." He snapped a
salute.
Vraet nodded. "Continue."
"Roughly two hours ago my base came under attack.
Imperial Star Destroyers. The sensors counted five of them before
they set up a jamming field."
The Syndic would've stood up straighter if it were possible.
Thrawn was making a bid to take the Chiss territory, and the base
in the Yehal system was the perfect jump-off point for a strike at
Homeworld itself!
"They ignored our communications and opened fire
immediately, half our defense ships were hit before they could get
off a shot, the others were flanked and surrounded. They brought
Interdictors to prevent anyone from running, then struck at the base
itself." Lekrus shuddered. "None were spared, not civilian
laborers, not the garrison's families, no one."
"How did you escape?" Raine asked.
"Partly through luck, Commander, partly through the
courage and skill of our fighter pilots. When they blocked our
transmitters Base Commander Holet realized the importance of
getting word to Homeworld. He ordered myself and a fighter
group to run the blockade using our most heavily-shielded shuttle.
My fighter escort was destroyed before they reached the edge of
the interdiction field, and me nearly with them."
He turned his gaze from the commander to the Syndic. The
survivor must be in shock: his eyes had a strange, dull quality.
They didn't brighten or dim with his emotions as those of the
average Chiss did. "The Traitor is massing his fleet for a strike at
Homeworld, if he's not stopped-"
"He will be." Vraet gripped Lekrus' shoulder. "You've
done well, and you may have saved your people." He looked at the
other Chiss' disheveled condition. "Are you injured?"
"No Syndic." He set his face into a grim expression. "I'm
ready to fight for my people."
"You'll get the chance." Vraet promised. He turned to the
nearby medic. "But take him to the infirmary and check him."
The doctor nodded as Vraet turned toward the door and walked
out, Raine matched his steps.
"How many of my ships can move out immediately?" He
asked.
"Most of the phalanx." She answered. "We're going to
counterattack?"
"Yes, immediately after I alert the other Syndics."
"Should we wait for them to send out ships of their own?"
"And waste time while they debated who should be in
command? No, my phalanx is easily strong enough to defeat five
Star Destroyers." They reached the turbolift and boarded. The
doors slid shut behind them and he pressed a button. Raine
blinked her crimson eyes, the only sign of surprise she showed: the
turbolift was moving down to the fighter and shuttle launch bay,
not up to the bridge.
"And it's not 'we,' you'll remain behind and take command
of the remaining ships and defenses." The commander narrowed
her eyes, but not before he caught the sudden flash of red
brilliance.
"May I ask why?" Her voice was deceptively level.
"Because I have ordered it so." He said coldly. "If I strike
now I can catch Thrawn by surprise and turn him back, perhaps
even kill him. If there are more Star Destroyers than the phalanx
can handle I will turn back and seek reinforcements from the other
Syndics." The turbolift reached its destination, but before the
doors could slide open Raine hit the DOOR-CLOSE button on the
panel, so fast he didn't perceive the movement of her arm from her
side to the controls.
"You should be the one remaining while I lead the attack."
She said bluntly. Vraet narrowed his eyes.
"You have your orders, Commander." He reached for
DOOR-OPEN button, but Raine knocked his hand away and
positioned herself between him and the controls. "What is this?"
He glared at her. "Who do you think you are?"
"I think I'm your phalanx commander," she shot back, "and
I think you owe me an explanation. It's my place to lead your
fleet, and if you think I am unfit for my duties then relieve me of
command." Their eyes locked for a few seconds, but this time
Vraet dropped his gaze.
"Commander," he paused, "Raine, this is important to me.
It's my chance to prove to the Syndics that I am not my father's
son, worthy of a place beside them." His eyes blazed up. "If I lead
an attack to protect our space then no one can doubt that I am a
loyal Chiss." He thought about not saying any more, but here, in
private, he felt he could be honest with Raine, and suddenly found
he needed to share his reasons with someone. "Besides," his
voice turned deadly, "I want to meet Thrawn in combat. I want to
prove, to him and to myself, that I'm the better man."
Vraet felt a little foolish after saying that. Raine wasn't of
the nobility, after all, she couldn't understand the ceaseless rules of
honor and pride that were drilled into every Syndic-to-be from
birth, the need to prove oneself worthy in the eyes of one's peers
and ancestors. He watched his commander closely, looked away
for a few seconds, then back at Vraet.
"I can see why you have to do this, Vraet, but..." for the
first time in years he saw her looking unsure of herself, "I've never
had any faith in hunches, intuition or nonsense like that, but when I
heard that man's report I felt," she hesitated a second, "afraid," she
rushed on, "and I had that same feeling just now, when you said
you intended to lead the counterattack."
"Raine," he took her by the shoulders, "I can lay down my
life in defense of the Chiss at any time, I accepted that a long time
ago. I am a Syndic: my life doesn't belong to me, but to the people
I protect, and if they are endangered my life or death will not
matter so long as the threat is turned back."
Raine grimaced. "I just don't like the idea of staying
behind while you go into battle, it makes me feel helpless." She
glared into his eyes. "I hate feeling helpless."
Vraet actually laughed. "Helpless? You're the strongest
person I know." He drew her close and kissed her. After an
eternity they parted. "You don't need to worry about anything."
He whispered. "Knowing you're waiting for me is a guarantee I'll
return safe."
Raine smiled a little. "Ever the optimist."
**************************************************
The Chiss warships and fighters fell into realspace midway
into the system, with a second wave set to follow in minutes. The
large and midsize capital ships of Vraet's Household phalanx flew
in classic formation while fighters and strike cruisers guarded the
outer perimeter or preceded the main fleet altogether. Standing on
the bridge of the Guardian, Vraet shifted his glowing eyes from
the view to the bridge crew's instrument readings. The
Guardian was in the forefront of the fleet, so Vraet was one of
the first to see the destination of the hastily-assembled battle
group.
"I want readings." He said to his captain. "Get an analysis
of what happened here."
"Sir," the Chiss saluted and relayed the orders to the
stunned bridge crew. There was good reason for their
astonishment: they had entered the system expecting to find
Imperial warships massing for an attack on the Homeworld, or
possibly the last parts of a battle being waged against the star-
spangled black background of space, not the complete devastation
that lay before them.
One thing was painfully clear: the fleet had arrived too late
to be of any help. The ruins of the base were as silent and peaceful
as a graveyard, and any enemies were long gone. Scorched and
twisted metal, the remains of defense stations, capital ships and
fighters, drifted slowly in the vacuum. Most of the debris had been
caught by the planet Yehal's gravity and was in orbit around the
world, being pulled gradually into the atmosphere.
But the planet itself...
Yehal wasn't exactly a world that had seemed made for the
Chiss: an unbreathable atmosphere, uncomfortable gravity, and
though the rate of rotation and distance from sun were such to
create conditions for life form to develope and thrive, Chiss would
never survive there. Not a good place for a colony or a resort spot,
in other words, but strategically it was a perfect place to set up a
base and outpost.
The initial survey teams had also found quite a few mineral
deposits and other natural resources a few centuries back and the
Families had decided to exploit that material wealth despite the
hardships that went with obtaining it. The mining communities on
the surface were situated underground or inside domed enclosures,
and the colonial miners had to don encounter suits to venture
outside. There was no talk of moving them out and setting up
mines on Homeworld, however.
A popular movement centered around the idea that
Homeworld's natural beauty should not be defiled had sprung up
centuries ago and had continued into recent years. According to
these activists the Chiss Homeworld itself should not be subjected
to mining and manufacturing industries. The Families had agreed
with this notion and had made it policy to rely on the natural
resources of those planets under Chiss control rather than use those
of Homeworld.
The sentient natives of Yehal hadn't caused any problems
for the colonists, not after the first few months anyway. The
natives were a primitive race: only just beginning to realize the
potential for fossil fuels and industrialization. They resented the
Chiss for claiming the natural resources that they needed for a real
industrial revolution, but since cannons and stone fortresses could
do little good against charrics and energy shields they had learned
to accept their place as subordinates on their own planet.
The Chiss themselves couldn't understand the natives?
attitude. So what if their control over Yehal's resources kept the
natives from moving beyond a medieval level of technology?
They were savages: given the opportunity they would ruin their
own world with pollution to invent better ways of killing one
another. Besides, they were left alone to govern their own affairs
so long as they avoided those parts of the planet the Chiss were
making use of. In exchange for this small service they now had the
benefit of living under the protection of the Chiss, who kept them
safe from both outsiders and their own barbaric impulses. By all
rights they should be grateful.
Unfortunately for the Chiss case their protection didn't
count for much, as it turned out, seeing as they were all dead.
Yehal's atmosphere had been transformed into thick,
swirling mass the color of red clay. Vraet couldn't see past the
cloud-cover to the surface, but judging by the unquiet movements
of the atmosphere, massive storms were raging across the world.
The comm channels received nothing from the colony, not from
the colonists themselves or even the primitive radio transmitions
that natives had recently invented. The system had been wiped
clean of life.
"I want fighter groups out and scouting," Vraet heard
himself say as old training took over, "whoever did this might still
be in-system." On the far side of the planet, for instance, or under
the cloud cover. A clever commander could hide an entire fleet in
a solar system. "And get me an analysis of the planet. I want to
know what happened here."
"Sir." The Captain relayed his orders to the obviously
stunned bridge crew, and Vraet saw sleek Chiss fighters streak
away from the battle group while the other ships took up a
defensive formation. Vraet struggled to assimilate the detestation
while mentally composing the address he would give before the
High Families. This was monstrous, an unheard-of violation of the
Chiss, so he thought as the Guardian moved closer to the planet
and a chunk of space station tumbled slowly past.
Someone would pay for this.
"Fighter reports are in," a bridge officer reported, "no sign
of enemy activity."
"Scan the wreckage." The Captain turned to the sensors
section.
"A preliminary scan shows ion trails and energy signatures
corresponding with Chiss propulsion systems and charrics," the
officer at the station said, glowing eyes never leaving the readouts,
"but no sign of alien weaponry." He peered closer as more
information scrolled down the screen. "Something odd, though.
There are traces of some odd substance."
"What kind of substance?" Vraet resisted the urge to go
over to the screen and take a look himself.
"It looks like some kind of plasma." The officer spoke at
last. "And there are minor gravitational anomalies all around the
planet."
"Like the disturbances made by an Interdictor?" The
Captain asked.
"No sir, but similar." More readings poured in from the
other ships. "And small chunks of some material I can't identify
are drifting out there as well. The fighter pilots say the debris
looks charred, as though by energy blasts from charric fire."
"And the planet?"
"Sensors can't penetrate the cloud cover, but from what we
can tell it looks like the air has been superheated. She might as
well be orbiting around the outermost edge of the sun."
Vraet maintained a calm appearance and clasped his hands
behind his back to keep from wringing them nervously. How
could Thrawn do this? Had he been so corrupted by the barbarians
that he no longer had any notion of honor? "See if some of the
fighters can get under that cloud cover," he said to the Captain, ?I
want a look at the surface. Have the fighters and gunships expand
their search of the system for signs of enemy activity and prepare
the medical bays. There may be survivors." He glanced out the
main viewport. "And contact Homeworld, the other Syndics must
know about this."
"Sir," the Captain began to relay the orders.
"Captain, Syndic," the officer at the sensors station turned
from the screens, "I'm getting some odd readings from the debris."
"What kind of readings?" Vraet looked at him.
"Some of the chunks aren't drifting anymore, they're
moving toward the Guardian."
"Escape pods?" The Captain asked.
"No, not the metal debris, sir." The officer clarified. "The
other kind."
Vraet moved to stand over the station. "Visual." A small
hologram of the Guardian appeared at the sensor chief's
command, a sleek, powerful capital ship as astheticly pleasing as
she was practical. Around the flagship, more than a dozen tiny
meteorites were converging.
"What in space are those?" The Captain murmured. They
were roughly the size of starfighters and, the Syndic noted as he
squinted red eyes at the hologram, they had the vague shape of
fighters as well.
"Get an enlarged image of one." Vraet said quickly. The
officer adjusted his controls for a few moments and a second
hologram appeared beside that of the Guardian. Vraet felt a
sense of relief when he saw the meteorite was clearly that: a
meteorite, though by some strange coincidence they did resemble
fighters. There was even a kind of crystalline growth on the top
that looked like a cockpit, and if Vraet looked closely enough he
could see how some of the pits and ridges could appear to be
weapon emplacements.
Still, just to be safe...
"Are the shields raised?" The Captain indicated an
affirmative. "Lock a tractor beam on one of those rocks and bring
it onboard." The Syndic said. "I want a closer look at it." The
launching bay doors opened and the meteorite was slowly drawn
toward the Guardian's maw.
"Sir, the Council of Syndics is responding to the
transmition." The comm officer reported.
"I'll take it in the conference room." Vraet turned to the
Captain, "notify me if anything-"
"Sir, I can't get a lock on the meteorite." The crewman at
the tractor beam's controls spoke up."
"Why not?" Vraet stopped and frowned in annoyance, he
needed to appraise the other Syndics.
"I can't explain it sir, the tractor beam keeps encountering
mini gravitational anomalies before it can take hold." He might
have said more, but the whistle of alarms from several stations
interrupted him.
"We've got multiple breaches in the energy shield!" A
crewman shouted. The main diagnostics display showed blinking
red areas in the energy shield around the Guardian's computer-
model. There were more than a dozen holes in the defensive field.
Vraet turned his crimson eyes to the hologram at the sensor
station. Small meteorites, so similar to starfighters, slowly closing
around the capital ship...
Something clicked.
"Extend the gravitational compensation field!" He shouted.
"And close the hanger!"
Too late.
The meteorite targeted by the tractor beam accelerated,
streaked up into the hanger like a spear into a whale's underbelly,
and the bridge floor heaved under Vraet, throwing the Syndic off
his feet.
*******************************************
When their comrade commenced his suicide-dive into the
infidel ship the other fifteen coralskippers fired into the holes
they'd made in the machine's energy shield. Rock-like projectiles
that were in reality spheres of chitin impacted the durasteel hull
and adhered to the metal while their porous surfaces released
highly corrosive solvents. The missiles sank into the melting hull.
The coralskipper pilots knew the Chiss fighters were even
now beginning to swarm them, but that didn't matter: the mission
was complete. True, the projectiles had made mere pinpricks in
the Guardian, but they would burst the instant they were inside,
and no barrier the infidels could erect would stop the many
creatures within, creatures bred to seek out a spacecraft's reactor
core, and when they got close enough to the core the chemicals in
their bodies would react in a most spectacular manner.
*******************************************
Vraet pulled himself up with the railway that surrounded
the upper bridge. Blood from a cut on his scalp trickled down his
face, he wiped it with a sleeve and spun around to face the bridge
stations. The power was out in half the monitors, the other half
showed only jumbles of meaningless symbols.
"Hull breaches on levels three and five!" One officer
shouted.
"Seal off the damaged sections," the Captain ordered, "and
lock the turbo charrics on those enemy vessels!"
The glowpanels and lights on the control stations winked
out, to be replaced a second later the much dimmer glow of
auxiliary power. The Captain forgot himself and cursed,
creatively, before recovering his composure. "The crash must have
taken out the main power."
"Confirmed sir, we're drifting."
"Captain, Syndic," a voice blared from the comm, terror
almost breaking through the trademark calmness of the Chiss, "the
alien projectiles have released some sort of creatures, insectoids,
into the ship."
"You were told to seal off the damaged areas!" Vraet
barked at the officer.
"I did, Lord."
"I can see them on the monitor," the voice from the comm
was talking, "they're eating through the blast doors, Families help
me they-Ahh-" the cry was cut short in a whoosh of air, then
nothing but the silence of vacuum.
"We need security in encounter suits down there!" Vraet
turned to another station. "Where are they?"
"Internal sensors indicate the things are making their way
to the reactor core." Vraet felt as though he'd been dipped in
icewater on hearing that. "I don't think we have time to stop
them."
Vraet and the Captain exchanged looks, the Syndic nodded
reluctantly. "Send out a Level Five alarm." The Captain said. "All
hands abandon ship."
"Sir..." a crewman from the helm.
What now? Vraet felt like groaning. He turned to the
helm, but didn't need to ask what the problem was.
The irregular shape of an alien fighter hovered into view
just beyond the main forward viewport. Vraet glimpsed a
humanoid shape behind the crystalline cockpit. A glance at the
diagnostics displays showed that a hole had been opened in the
forward shield.
The Captain saw this as well, and reacted instantly: he
struck the OPEN button beside the turbolift door with one fist,
then seized Vraet by the shoulders, pulled him back and threw him
into the open lift. As the door slid shut, Vraet saw bolts of plasma
streak from the corralskipper and shatter the transparisteel
protecting his bridge crew from the vacuum beyond.
**************************************************
Vraet braced himself against a corridor wall as the ship was
rocked by a miniature explosion. He turned a corner and found his
way blocked by blast doors: the Guardian's automated
countermeasures must still be in effect, the ship was sealing off the
damaged portions of itself to prevent the remaining crew from
being sucked into the vacuum. Unfortunately it also blocked off
the quickest route to the secondary shuttle bay.
Vraet uttered a string of curses he'd learned from Raine.
He had to admit it was very satisfying, even if it didn't do anything
to help his position. Once again his commander's knowledge of
the middle and lower levels of society proved useful.
He retraced his steps. He would have to take the longer
route to the shuttle bay. And he would have to hurry: the
insectoids would reach the reactor core soon, and Vraet didn't
want to be onboard when they did.
Despite the urgency the Syndic couldn't help but feel
reluctance to leave the Guardian to her fate. His flagship had
served him well over the years.
"Syndic!" An exclamation from behind him. He turned
and saw another Chiss hurrying down the corridor. "Thank the
Families your safe," he began to bow but Vraet stopped him.
"There's little time for pleasantries," he said quickly, "we
need to reach the shuttle bay, quickly."
"I've tried, blast doors are blocking the way." The
crewman's eyes were dull with shock.
"Only the quickest route." Vraet corrected. "This way."
He was about to turn and lead the way down the corridor when
something tugged at the back of his mind. He dismissed the
feeling. Hopefully there was a shuttle or escape pod remaining-
Vraet's companion flicked his wrist and a coufee slid from
his sleeve. He clapped a hand on Vraet's shoulder, spun him
around, stepped in close and buried the blade in the Syndic's
stomach.
Fire spiked through Vraet's midsection and into his
extremities. He gasped for air, eyes bulging. The pain seemed to
sharpen his senses though, facing the crewman, Vraet suddenly
remembered where he had seen the skinny Chiss with the
lackluster eyes before: it was Lekrus, the supposed survivor of the
'Imperial' attack, the one whose warning had brought Vraet here in
the first place.
His attacker grinned, showing white fangs, and drew his
blade up Vraet's abdomen in a single, sharp move before shoving
the disemboweled Chiss against the corridor wall. Blood sprayed
from the wound, splattering droplets on the attacker's uniform.
Vraet clutched at his rent midsection with one hand while
the other grabbed for the charric at his side. 'Lekrus' didn't move
to stop him. The false Chiss looked at his coufee, which was
already absorbing Vraet's blood into itself, and ran his tongue
across the blade before it could finish its meal.
He smacked his lips. "A little thin for my taste," he mused,
"but an interesting flavor."
Vraet had drawn his sidearm, only to see it slip from his
fingers as his muscles refused to clench. Strength leaked out of his
legs as well, and he slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
It was hard to focus his thoughts. Knife, must have
been... his mind struggled for the word, poisoned. The hand
clutching his stomach was covered in thick, hot liquid, and
something slippery and rope-like coiled around his fingers. He had
no desire to look down at the damage, even if his paralyzed body
was capable of movement.
The Yuuzhan Vong touched the side of his nose and the
blue ooglith masquer withdrew, revealing his scarred and tattoo-
covered face. He watched Vraet with red-dyed eyes and smiled.
"The gods will dine well this day."
Damn you, Father, was Vraet's last thought before the
world exploded, you were right again. Always right. Damn
you!
*****************************************************
Raine paced across the bridge of the Sentinel, apparently
observing the capital ship's crew at their stations. In reality she
was moving around to try and rid herself of nervous energy. The
gnawing fear hadn't left her since Vraet and the majority of his
phalanx had jumped into hyperspace. In fact, the unease had only
grown in that time. This was unlike any kind of pre-battle nerves
she'd ever experienced.
She allowed none of her worries to show, of course. No
member of the Chiss military, and certainly not an officer, would
ever appear less than completely in control. Besides, she had
always despised the widespread belief that females were unable to
handle themselves in times of crisis. That had been one of her
chief obstacles in joining the Defense Fleet, one that she had
surmounted with great difficulty.
Among the Chiss, tradition said that a female's place was
raising children and performing the domestic chores in her
husband's or father's household, and among the Chiss tradition was
as strong as law. In a way, she had Thrawn to thank for her
present circumstances: with so many young males leaving the
favoritism and generally unfair treatment of Homeworld to join the
Empire (numbers the High Families were still doing their best to
hide), the Families had no choice but to bend tradition and allow
females into the work force.
Some Chiss females, Raine included, had dared to try and
enlist in the Expansionary Defense Fleet. The training was
difficult, and they were unwanted by soldiers and officers alike.
Only the most dedicated had succeeded, out of those a mere
handful had actually seen combat, and only Raine had reached a
command position.
But be honest, would you be here at all if you weren't
Vraet's lover? A nagging, spiteful voice whispered from the back
of her mind. The red glow of her eyes increased by several shades.
Yes, she had to admit her relationship with Vraet was a factor, but
that only convinced him to treat her fairly and acknowledge her
ability. Vraet was no fool, and he wouldn't promote someone to
the rank of phalanx commander just because he was sleeping with
her. Skill, intelligence and courage were the only qualities a
Syndic looked for in choosing his officers.
But as much as she loved Vraet, it still hurt to think that
she hadn't done it all on her own.
Raine had always been most comfortable aboard a ship.
She loved the sense of freedom, knowing the hyperdrive could take
her across Chiss space with just a few jumps. She turned her gaze
outward, past the forward viewport, but even the sight of
Homeworld, slowly rotating with white clouds dancing gently
across her atmosphere, failed to soothe the commander.
Advancement would have probably come easier if she had
joined the Unity Fleet under Mith'raw'nuruodo, and she could see
the whole of the galaxy in the service of the Empire, but the
thought of deserting had never even crossed her mind. She was
Chiss: she loved her Homeworld and her people, even if she hated
the blind, backward old men who ruled them.
In spite of everything, Raine had to admit she was happy:
she had authority, the respect of her peers, superiors and
subordinates, the power to defend her people, and of course, she
had Vraet.
The Syndic was the only one who understood her, who
didn't try to define her by the standards of behavior the rest of
society adhered to: as either a female, docile and obedient, or an
officer, remote and unapproachable. He accepted her for who she
was.
She knew that last case wouldn't last. The Syndic was still
young, but eventually he would have to marry and produce an heir.
He would be expected to wed a female of the noble classes, which
Raine wasn't, and once that happened all they shared would stop,
leaving nothing but the professional relationship between a Syndic
and his phalanx commander. Apart from the need to avoid
scandal, Vraet would never break his marriage vows: he was too
honorable for that, one of the reason she'd fallen for him in the
first place.
She was thankful, though, that at least she hadn't been born
into the noble classes. As a child she had watched the elegant,
bejeweled noblewomen with envy on the rare occasions when one
had appeared in a public place, but Raine had grown into a very
practical adult and knew that, whatever the circumstances, the
Chiss rulers would never allow their female counterparts to be
anything more than ornaments.
Protected and cared for at all times, Chiss noblewomen
never permitted to exert themselves, physically or mentally: they
weren't to leave their family's estates except in cases of extreme
necessity, and all the household duties and decisions were made by
servants. They weren't even allowed to raise their own children.
A staff of nannies, governesses, tutors and, for the boy-children,
retired officers to teach them proper standards of behavior,
handled that. A Chiss lady could go for weeks at a time without
even seeing her progeny.
Perhaps that was the real reason for her unease. There was
something she had to tell Vraet, and she was afraid to. She was
afraid of what his reaction would be.
"Commander, we are receiving a signal from the
Guardian," the comm officer said. "It's a transmition of the First
Priority to the Syndics of every House."
Raine went into the adjoining conference room and waited
with holograms of all the Syndics on Homeworld for Vraet's
appearance.
They were still waiting a few minutes later when The
Long Reach of Death appeared in the system.
**************************************************
A few Chiss ships and fighters were sent out to investigate
the massive object intruding on their space and moving slowly
towards Homeworld, unwilling to believe something so vast and
utterly devoid of metal or electrical signatures could be a vessel
crafted by alien hands. When the scouts were crushed in much the
way a being would swat an insect that annoyed him, the portion of
the Expansionary Defense Fleet assigned to protect Homeworld
quickly mustered for an attack.
Aptly named, the worldship was shaped on the scale of a
small planetoid, its ridges and craters concealing thousands of
powerful dovin basals, oceans of plasma and projectiles with the
speed, accuracy and explosive power of missiles. It's vulnerable
internal organs were hidden away, deep beneath layers of yorrik
coral hardened to match the strength of durasteel.
Worst of all, it had a yammosk.
**************************************************
The war coordinator was squirming with pleasure now that
it finally had the chance to do what it was shaped for. At its
orders, the worldship stopped moving and waited for the Chiss
fleet to begin its assault, thus freeing up all the dovin basals for
defensive purposes. The yammosk ordered half the dovin basals to
concentrate on defense while the other half stripped the Chiss
vessels of their shields and worked to interfere with their
maneuvers.
When the infidel ships were in range the yammosk sent an
order to the corralskipper pilots in the caves and canyons of the
worldship?s surface, telling them to launch and engage the enemy
fighters while the Long Reach dealt with the larger vessels.
His mind joined to the vast consciousness of the yammosk,
Sang Anor was aware of its decisions and gave his approval. In
the yammosk's vast, rounded chamber at the very center of the
worldship, the Executor stood beside the yammosk on a pillar of
coral that stretched halfway to the ceiling, positioning the great,
bulbus shape of the war coordinator at the exact center of the
room.
A ring of villips encircled the room, connected directly to
the outermost sensory organs. Using a tiny part of its mental
energy, the yammosk had combined the visual information to
create a real-time representation of the battle below them.
Across the room floated the green-blue world of the Chiss,
its diameter about the length of both Sang Anor?s arms, turning
slowly, unaware that the judgement of the gods was upon her and
all that lived and breathed on her surface. The Long Reach of
Death was near the foot of the pedestal. About a quarter of the
planet's size, and streaking toward the worldship was the Chiss
fleet, capital ships smaller than a finger-joint and fighters the size
of dustmites.
Sang Anor stepped away from the yammosk and walked
slowly down the spiral stairway that ringed its pedestal. He
stepped onto the floor and into the midst of the space battle.
Titanic but unseen, like one of the gods themselves, he walked
among the images that chased one another, shooting brief, bright
blue darts of energy and yellow threads of plasma.
He turned his eyes to one of the infidel vessels. "Expand
this image, I want a closer look." He didn't need to raise his voice
or indicate which part of the battle he meant. His bond with the
yammosk communicated all that with the instinctive speed of
thought.
A bubble surrounded the capital ship. The bubble and the
image within swelled to give Sang Anor a more detailed view.
The yammosk directed its dovin basals to strip the battleship of its
shields. The dovin basals seized the Chiss vessel and immobilized
it while the yammosk guided three missiles to strike key points on
the ship. The missiles, about the size of coralskippers, were
controlled by small, very limited brains, but the yammosk guided
the living projectiles with pinpoint accuracy. The capital ship
vanished in a plume of fire, quickly extinguished by the cold of
space.
A sensible person would say it was sheer insanity to attack
the Chiss Homeworld, the heart of what was probably the greatest
power in the Unknown Regions. After considering what he'd
learned from Wras, their Chiss convert, and from the disguised
agents he'd sent to the target planet, he had concluded that the
Chiss reputation for invincible strength was largely illusionary.
While their soldiers were well-trained and their equipment
was advanced, the Chiss officers and commanders were
inexperienced, chosen more for breeding than ability. The Chiss
hadn't fought a war in close to a thousand years and the
Expansionary Defense Fleet was a hodgepodge of ships from every
phalanx, with each division answering to their own commanders
and Syndics rather than to any centralized command.
Communication and coordination between the phalanxes was slow
and sloppy.
This arrangement worked well when it came to defending
their boarders, but it couldn't compare to the power of the
Yuuzhan Vong. Sang Anor's conclusion: the Chiss were in
decline, vulnerable to attack.
The worldship's dovin basals absorbed the volleys of blue
energy bolts sent by the tiny Chiss vessels, then leisurely targeted
ten at a time for destruction while the coralskippers, coordinated
by the yammosk and piloted by beings who were literally one with
their ships, tore through the Chiss fighters.
Quite a show, but for Sang Anor it was only a side
performance. The main event was still to come.
He looked across the room at the Chiss planet, now almost
undefended, and as if on cue the eight desk hai which had dropped
out of hyperspace on the opposite side of the system closed in on
the planet.
