Chapter Fourteen
"I'm very disappointed in you, Prefect." Sang Anor shook
his head as he stared at the thick, black clouds that rose against the
sky and turned noon to dusk. (Though I don't know why,) he
mused, (this kind of incompetence is about what I've come to
expect from you.)
"The slaves who fought us aren't going to be a problem
anymore." Ke'Nas crossed his arms and smiled, his ever-sneering
face practically glowing with pride as a band of Nesz slowly
walked by them. "I've scorched half this planet, and tsik vai are
flying overhead. They fire on anything that moves." And Nom
Anor hadn't come back yet.
Ke'Nas could barely hold back bubbles of laughter when
he'd told Sang Anor. The Executor was concerned, but he
wouldn't believe Nom Anor was dead until he saw the body
himself. This was Ke'Nas, after all: if he was trying to do you
harm then you could look forward to a long and happy life. It was
only time to start worrying when the Prefect was trying to help
you.
"You've made progress indeed," Sang Anor conceded. "A
planet full of life that could have been shaped to serve us or used
as nutrients for the coral field is now all but useless." Another
group of Nesz trudged past where they stood, on the shores of a
large lake that lay near the center of the Yuuzhan Vong settlement.
Underground streams, regulated by Yuuzhan Vong servant-
creatures, carried water to the growing projects and carried waste
material away from the coral field.
The Prefect laughed a little. "What does it matter if this
world lives or dies? You've already given the order to abandon it."
True enough. Even now transports of yorrik coral were ferrying
almost every Yuuzhan Vong on the planet and all fully shaped
creatures up to the worldship while another stream of empty
transports flew down to the surface to collect more.
Above them, the mottled red-black orb of the (Long
Reach) hung like a midday moon.
Sang Anor glanced at a passing tsik vai. "I want those
flyers recalled," he said, "those pilots will be needed in
corralskippers." Another hundred slaves walked silently past,
reptilian snouts drooping. "The (Long Reach of Death) and the
desk hai are easily a match for the infidels' Star Destroyers, but
their TIE fighters could prove a problem. Thrawn has hoards of
the things and he knows how to use them." The small, fast fighters
could harass larger ships and tire their dovin basals, creating weak
points for the battleships to capitalize on.
"That's why you're having the shapers drop all other
projects in favor of growing missiles and grutchin." Ke'Nas
deduced, still wearing his idiotically pleased expression.
Sang Anor nodded. Missiles and grutchin were faster to
shape than coralskippers and they needed no pilots. Guided by the
yammosk, they would thin out the numbers of TIE fighters during
the battle.
"I've all but emptied the worldship. Every warrior will
have to fly a coralskipper, and the noncombatants, priests, shapers
and the rest, are being sent out of the system. They've been
instructed to disperse and hide themselves until the battle is over
and it's safe to rejoin the (Long Reach.)"
"And you're going to take on the entire infidel fleet?"
Ke'Nas shook his head. "I've always thought you were mad,
Executor." He watched the other Yuuzhan Vong carefully.
"You're fighting Thrawn in the field he excels in: open warfare."
"Oh, I'm having a few tricks prepared for him." Sang
Anor's eyes gleamed. "This system will be the Grand Admiral's
last battlefield. We (will) have victory."
"But a costly one." The Prefect pressed. "Many of our
warriors will perish. How do you expect to conquer the Unknown
Regions if half or more of our number die right now?"
"The planets of this galaxy team with life, Ke'Nas. Life
which can be shaped to serve us and fight for us."
"Living weapons and warrior-slaves?" The Prefect
chuckled. "Mindless tools are nothing without a Yuuzhan Vong to
direct them."
"Most of the sentients in this galaxy are destined for slavery
or sacrifice, yes, but there are exceptions." He glanced over his
shoulder and motioned for the new arrival to approach.
Wearing vonduun shell armor and with an amphistaff
curled round his arm, Wras looked and carried himself like a
Yuuzhan Vong warrior. He snapped his fists against his shoulders
and bowed his head to each of his superiors. "Belek tiu Executor,
Prefect." Tattoos swirled around his blue face, and his eyes
glowed with fanatical fire.
"Look at me, Wras." The glowing eyes met the Executor's.
"Why do you exist?" Sang Anor queried.
"I live for the gods, I kill for the gods, I will die for the
gods." The shaped Chiss answered.
"So you do. Give tribute to the gods, Wras." Without a
second's hesitation, the Chiss made a fist and struck his nose,
breaking it. Blood streamed down his chin and he prepared to hit
himself once again. "Enough." Sang Anor reached out and
brushed his claws along Wras' face, as he had done once before.
The convert didn't flinch, even though the talons were a hair away
from breaking the blue skin.
Sang Anor slowly circled Wras. "If one of the Imperial
Chiss were here before us, someone you respected, someone who
had flown as your wingmate and saved your life countless times,
and it was necessary to sacrifice this one, what would you do?"
"With my own hands, Executor, I would bind the infidel
into the Embrace of Pain."
"Look at him, Prefect." Sang Anor completed his circuit.
"Less than a month with us and already as strong as a Yuuzhan
Vong and as dedicated to the gods as one born into their service. I
am so satisfied that he's now one of us I've arranged to have him
adopted into Domain Rapuung." Wras started, almost
imperceptibly, and a glow of pride lit in his eyes. "And I'm told
we have a human who might be suitable for the shaping process."
He looked to Wras. "If we only find one like him among a
thousand slaves, that still yields up hundreds of thousands on every
inhabited planet we take. Our numbers will be replenished in a
year," he turned back to Ke'Nas, "and by then there will be a
functioning shipwomb in this galaxy to grow battleships en masse.
In five years the Yuuzhan Vong will rule the Unknown Regions,
the Chiss (and) the Ssi-Ruuk. In five more years I will be
standing on Coruscant, supervising that world's cleansing." When
the Supreme Overlord arrived, twenty years hence, Sang Anor
would greet him with a (billion) sacrifices, and the Overlord
would name Sang Anor his heir on the spot.
He glanced at Ke'Nas and saw the Prefect was shaken.
Good. He had sense enough to realize the indirect threat: Sang
Anor had said 'I,' not 'we.' The Executor would be on Coruscant
in ten years, but where would Ke'Nas be? Ke'Nas knew that war
had just been declared.
The Prefect noticed his Executor watching him and looked
away quickly, not meeting Sang Anor's eyes. He was bold enough
to yap and nip at his superior's heels, but there would be no direct
challenge: Ke'Nas knew who the alpha male of this pack was.
Sang Anor's authority was well-established by now, but
Ke'Nas' acknowledgment wasn't going to save him: the Prefect had
proved too treacherous, and incompetent besides. True, the
Executor had found him valuable in helping test his son's mettle,
but he no longer had any use for the Prefect and what Sang Anor
couldn't use, he didn't keep.
The Executor experienced a rush of pleasure in the fact that
he controlled the life, the death, the (fate) of another. Of all the
things in creation, power was the most addictive.
It had been this way since he was a child and he began to
understand the concept of power: gaining, keeping and controlling
of it. Power was in the teacher who decided which of the creche
children was worthy and which would be sacrificed, the priest who
divined the future, the shaper who molded life to suit the needs of
the Yuuzhan Vong, the warrior who dealt out death to enemies of
the gods, but most of all power lay in being able to command all
those persons and be obeyed.
For as long as he could remember, the idea of power had
teased him, enticed him, danced before him seductively,
suggestively, and yet it was elusive, always remaining just out of
reach. He worked hard to climb the ranks, yet the reward's he'd
received failed to satisfy him. The escalations and promotions
he'd earned were mere tastes, the great feast remained out of reach.
Many Yuuzhan Vong who desired power concentrated on
what cause they could apply it to. They held the notion of using
their power to further the cause of the gods and their people. To
Sang Anor, however, power was its own reward. In many ways
this was an addiction, and like every addict Sang Anor came to
need greater doses of his drug. He had to have more, and more,
and (more!)
Ke'Nas was right: this was a kind of madness.
Yet even knowing this, Sang Anor was not dissuaded. He
had sacrificed all that he loved for his ambitions: his wife had been
taken from him and possibly even his son, yet this had only
strengthened his resolve to see those ambitions fulfilled. After all,
if he gave up or failed to achieve the goals he'd set for himself,
well, then he really would have nothing.
"You've thought of everything," Ke'Nas murmured, "so
how will the battle be waged?" More Nesz trudged past.
"I have a few things in mind." Sang Anor frowned. "A pity
the fifth battleship being grown in the field will not be ready for
the battle. Even if it is completed before the Empire arrives, there
is still no time to train it." He shrugged. "But I believe I have a
use for it, as well as for the handful of Yuuzhan Vong who will
remain on this planet." The hundred Nesz did as the hundred dull-
eyed slaved that had preceded them: they waded into the pool until
they submerged, floated down to the bottom, then opened their
jaws and breathed in the water.
When water filled their lungs, the Obeyers within each
slave took over completely and propelled the corpses on a walk
along the bottom, then a climb back up the side to shore. The dead
muscles were still fresh and flexible enough for the Obeyers to use.
They moved the bodied out of the water and collapsed them a few
steps away, where a band of Nesz slaves waited.
They did as they had done with those that proceeded this
group: they peeled back the scaly skin to extract the Obeyers,
lumpish things that extended long trailers into the reptiles' nerves.
The slaves were instructed to simply yank the Obeyers out,
snapping the links like thread. The Obeyers could always grow
new nerve cells. If the slaves had still been alive at this point, the
removal of the implants would have killed them: their bodies were
dependent on them by now.
They set the Obeyers of one slave aside, picked up its body
and tossed it into a nearby trench where close to a thousand dead
Nesz were piled.
This seed world had been a fine experiment, but useless
now that it was compromised. The Yuuzhan Vong didn't have the
time or resources to transport their slaves up to the worldship, and
more could easily be taken on their next conquered planet, so Sang
Anor had decided on simply eliminating them all. When all the
other slaves were dead, those Nesz who took care of the bodies
would be the last to enter the pool and die.
A small sacrifice, but anything that might persuade the
gods to look with favor on him was worth trying.
Ke'Nas smacked his lips and wiped a film of sweat from
his brow. "I'm parched," he looked around, "where is that slave?"
He caught sight of an elderly Nesz coming toward them. Too frail
for exerting itself in the coral fields, the Yuuzhan Vong used it
those in similar conditions to fetch and carry light objects, like the
serving platter with two goblets it now bore.
"That took long enough," the Prefect took one of the
goblets and drank the chilled wine. "I applaud your decision to
give up on these creatures, Executor. They make the weakest,
laziest slaves I've ever known, and they're ridiculously stubborn in
their resistance."
Sang Anor raised a brow as he inspected his own goblet.
"Resist?" He spoke dryly. "With spears and bows against
amphistaffs and plasma cannons?"
"The gods-cursed things act like feral grutchin." The
Prefect said defensively. "They fight by setting traps and
ambushes, and they know the swamps: they strike quickly and then
melt into the grass and trees, even the water. The shapers who
examined their bodies say they can hold their breath for hours, and
there must be thousands of underground streams connecting these
swamps."
The Prefect grimaced. "If that weren't bad enough, the
ignorant things would rather die than be taken captive and shown
the true path."
"The number of slaves taken alive has been negligible as of
late." Sang Anor agreed.
"You would think they would show some of that energy
and determination now that we've shown them their destined place
in the universe." Ke'Nas shook his head in disgust at the slaves?
ingratitude as another hundred walked past them to drown
themselves. "We're well rid of them."
"Will it be difficult to replace them, Executor?" Wras
asked.
"No, not that I really had a choice either way." The dead
slaves stumbled out of the water and collapsed on the shore. A
young slave turned one of the bodies over, dug its sharp claws
under the skin that covered a growth and began to peel. "We don't
have time to transport them to the worldship." He frowned at the
wine and poured it on the ground between his feet, "I prefer to
remain clearheaded on the eve of battle." He said as he walked to
the pool, knelt and dipped the empty goblet under the water.
As he stood, he heard shouts of greeting. He, Wras and the
Prefect turned their eyes to a trio of approaching Yuuzhan Vong.
One was a sentry who had been posted near the edge of the field,
to his right was a female, young and quite striking, and to his left-
"Executor," the sentry snapped fists to shoulders and
bowed, "Belek tiu, these persons approached the edge of the field
and asked for admittance-"
Sang Anor half-heard him, a sure of pure joy had
overwhelmed him, so much so that he could barely keep his face
impassive. All attention was focused on the sight of Nom Anor,
scorched, scarred, nearly naked, but alive. Ke'Nas had gone red,
then white. Sang Anor raised his goblet in a silent toast, then
threw back his head and drained the water.
And the pit of the dead continued to fill.
**********************************************
It was midday, but when Vergere looked upwards she could
only see darkness above the layers of water. The fires were still
burning strong.
"Most of my men are accounted for," Stent was saying, "if
your Nesz-ghosts can be believed, only three were lost in the fire."
"You can believe them," Vergere said softly, "how many
injuries?"
"A lot of burns, but the natives are treating them. A few
are sick from breathing in smoke. One pilot broke his arm, but he
insists he can still fire a blaster with his good hand." There was
mingled pride and amusement under the cool, controlled tone.
"We can fight."
He gazed up at the dome of air that kept the water from
crushing them. "Funny, I'm almost used to this place. It's not that
different from the energy shields that keep vaccuum out of a
fighter bay," he frowned, "the only difference being that I
understand how an energy shield works." Stent leaned close to the
Jedi and whispered, "how much longer can (they) keep this
going?"
Vergere turned to face him. Lit by both his glowing eyes
and by the many small, glowing orbs of air molecules that drifted
around the dome, Stent's features were drawn tight. "Two days."
The Fosh answered. "The Eternals are weakening as this world's
native life dies, but they can hide us a little longer."
"Then what?" Stent demanded, but kept his voice low so
the other Imperials wouldn't hear. "There's no cover on the
surface, not anymore. We'll burn to death or get spotted and vaped
by Vong fliers if we stray from here!" He snarled, anger entering
his tone. "You and your lizard friends have led us into a pit of
spikes!"
"You're alive." Vergere pointed out calmly. "Your men
have a chance."
"A chance to do what?" Stent clenched his fists. "To wait
until the air runs out or the water crushes us? And how can you
just sit here?" He glanced around. "We need a plan!" And by his
tone, the Chiss plainly expected her to have a course of action
ready.
Vergere sighed, once again the weight of the world was set
on her shoulders. Instead of frustration and anger, however, she
experienced a pleasantly nostalgic feeling. It was as her Master
had often said: "you'll find the most annoying part of being a Jedi is
everyone expects you to solve all their problems."
(How right you are, Thracia.) She shook her head. "I
need to consult the Force for guidance."
"I can't leave my men to rot while you daydream!" Stent
raised his voice and took a step toward her, but a scaly hand on his
arm stopped him. He looked down at Oin.
"Leave her alone." The young Nesz spoke in Basic.
"Don't presume to-"
"Will you put on such a shameful display in front of your
men?" Oin hissed. "What kind of Chiss are you?"
Vergere smiled, Oin had certainly learned how to
manipulate the Chiss. The flight commander remembered the
pilots sitting or crouching nearby, watching him with curious
human eyes and glowing Chiss gazes. Stent pulled himself
together and allowed Oin to draw him away from Vergere, his
boots squished on the muddy ground.
The Jedi turned her attention to the other inhabitants of the
dome. It was a fairly small space, holding a mere dozen Imperials
and Nesz. Those who had survived were hidden in many such
domes in the swamps near the Yuuzhan Vong settlement, safe
from detection by the aliens, but unable to stir for fear of revealing
themselves.
The humans and Chiss were holding up well, despite the
close quarters and strange circumstances. Stent had instructed
them not to move or speak any more than was necessary to keep
from using up the air too soon. Imperial discipline and the
knowledge of shared danger held them in a perpetually watchful
state. Their blasters were near at hand, though they probably
wouldn't be much use underwater.
There was another reason for staying still: the water wasn't
held back by any method they could understand, and
subconsciously there was the fear that any sudden action by them
could disrupt the delicate forces that kept them dry.
The glowing orbs floated around the dome, providing light
for the fugitives and illuminating the fluid, mobile sculptures that
shared the chamber with them. Twisting and turning, swelling and
thinning, the art of the Eternals entranced them all. The light
shimmered across their rippling surfaces.
Vergere closed her eyes and slowly floated out of her own
body. She left a thread of energy connecting her spirit to her
physical flesh as a lifeline and let the currents of the Force take her
where she needed to be.
For a time, she experienced the disembodied existence of
the Eternals. She sensed them as they spent their remaining
strength to maintain underwater safehouses for the remaining
Nesz. And she sensed the Nesz as well. The bright lights of
Eternals wearing flesh and experiencing life for the thousandth
time and the first time all at once.
There were so few of them left. A little more than five
hundred natives remained on the entire planet, all of which were
concentrated in the same general area. It really hit home how few
Nesz remained, what the Yuuzhan Vong had cost them.
She sensed the Eternals as well. It would be hard not too:
there were so many of them. She estimated around five thousand
of them living in the Force and was shocked for a moment by the
ratio of living to dead. Then she realized it was natural: with so
many Nesz dying in such a short space of time, with the survivors
having neither the time nor the inclination to birth infant bodies for
the Eternals, of course there would be unprecedented numbers of
Nesz in their disembodied form.
This also explained why the Eternals hadn't created these
underwater hideaways earlier: there were few of the spirit-Nesz
then, but after the Yuuzhan Vong had slaughtered them by the
hundreds there were enough to combine their strength and hide the
relatively few Nesz who still lived.
"Hello again, Vergere."
The Jedi turned to face the presence that took form in the
Force. Not that she had a 'face' or a body (to) turn at the moment,
but it translated into about the same thing.
"Dra." She wasn't sure whether or not to make small talk,
as diplomacy suggested, or even where to start if she did. 'You're
looking well,' didn't seem a very appropriate thing to say to a dead
person.
"The others decided I should be the one to talk with you,
because I so recently traveled with you and Oin."
"They made a good choice," and the mention of choices
reminded Vergere of a question she meant to ask. "Dra, tell me,
why did you choose Oin to succeed you?"
"It wasn't just me," the Eternal shook his head, his features
shifting, "all the Eternals decided."
"Again, why?"
"For the same reason we chose him to accompany you
offworld when last you were here and trusted him with our secret,
for the qualities you've doubtless seen in him during your time
together. In all his lives, 'Oin' has been the bravest, most
intelligent, adaptable and loyal of Nesz, and among the Eternals he
is counted as the wisest."
"I see," Vergere was taken aback for a moment, "thank you,
I couldn't have asked for a better friend during all this. Now why
did you call for me?"
"I need to show you something unusual," Dra answered,
"come with me." The world shifted around them and they stood at
the edge of a vast nothingness.
That is what it appeared to be, at least: a wide blank space
that extended for as far as she could perceive: the things she 'saw'
were all reflections in the Force, so the Yuuzhan Vong stronghold
would not register.
"I don't see anything different." The Fosh Jedi said.
"Turn your attention upward." Dra advised.
The empty space extended only as high as the tallest
Yuuzhan Vong building, which the Force outlined. Above that,
nothing but sky.
And two chains of blank spaces, lifting and descending
from the nothingness.
"You see?" Dra said. "This has been going on for half the
day."
Vergere observed the large blanks as they lowered
themselves to the surface while others took off and slowly flew
upwards. "About the size of cargo transports." She said. "Sang
Anor and the worldship must have returned, and the Yuuzhan
Vong are either moving things down to the surface or up to the
(Long Reach.)"
"Is there any way to find out which, or why?"
"Not like this." Vergere shook her head. "You would need
to send another spy in to scout them out, like Oin did."
"It wouldn't work," Dra shook his insubstantial 'head,' "the
Yuuzhan Vong have been on their guard since we began fighting
back. Sentries are everywhere."
"Then-" Vergere paused, "what's that?" She saw
something, a small, fading speck of light near the center of the
emptiness.
"I can't tell." Dra frowned. "It's too faint."
Vergere reached out over the field nothing to the point of
light, made contact and drew herself into the luminescence, and
found herself looking through the eyes of a Nesz.
*********************************************
She was a slave, one of many hundreds gathered under the
shadows of coral buildings. Piggybacking on the Nesz's
subconscious, she opened the slave?s recent memory and saw how
the boxy Yuuzhan Vong transports were landing to be loaded up
with villips, dovin basals, razorbugs and everything else that had
been grown on the coral field, then the transports would close and
lift off.
(The Yuuzhan Vong are abandoning this planet!) She
realized. (But why? Unless Thrawn is finally making a move in
this direction.) Fear rippled through her. Was her vision finally
coming to pass? A dead planet, nothing left of the Nesz...
(No, I can stop it. I have to!)
Somehow.
She realized suddenly that her host was moving. Along
with about a hundred others, she left the main group and walked
slowly to some unknown goal. She tried to make contact with the
Nesz mind she inhabited, but received no response. The slave's
will was too beaten down, and in truth there was little she could
talk with: the slaves were all implanted with Obeyers, and like all
Yuuzhan Vong servants these control-creatures didn't exist in the
Force. Worse, as their power spread through the slaves' bodies, the
victims' natural affinity with the Force was destroyed, thus
rendering them as blank as Yuuzhan Vong creatures.
With Nesz, though, it was far worse: earlier, Dra had
explained that Obeyers destroyed the Eternal within a captured
Nesz, condemning it to true and final death. This one had been a
recent implant, so she still retained a small part of what went on
after dying. Soon, however, even that would fade and the slave
would simply be an organic machine, moving and breathing but
soulless, governed by no will other than the Obeyers themselves.
This was the reason she couldn't touch any of the other
Nesz, nor would their free brothers and sisters feel when these
ones were hurt or killed: they were already dead in every way that
mattered.
The slave herself wasn't even away of Vergere, but the Jedi
sensed something within her: a strange, desperate hope, though the
Fosh didn't know the reason.
The group of one hundred was passing a tall spire of coral
that cast it's shadow across them when she heard Sang Anor's
voice.
She tried to turn the slave's head, but the Eternal she was
connected with just didn't have the strength: it was the Obeyers
that governed this body, and they had no such orders from their
Yuuzhan Vong masters.
"-expect a response from Thrawn soon." There was no
doubt about it: even after three years she remembered his voice
clearly. If she were in her own flesh she would shudder. "A most
violent response, so we must hurry. I need everything remotely
useful transferred to the worldship before the sun sets." There, out
of the corner of her eye she glimpsed two figures as she passed.
"That will be difficult, but it can be managed." She
recognized the other voice as well. So Nom Anor had survived the
fires. "When do you think the attack will come?"
"The moment Thrawn can assemble all his forces. I
estimate two days at most."
"Are you going to position the worldship near the
hyperspace entrance points? We could destroy the Imperials as
they enter the system."
"No, it wouldn't work. Thrawn will send in a few advance
scouts to look for a trap before jumping his fleet in. I mean to
destroy him and all his strength, not just a few ships. The
preparations for the battle are nearly complete."
"So the fight will be on our chosen battleground." Nom
Anor said. Vergere strained her hearing as the slow-moving slaves
shuffled past. "Where will it be?"
"The skies above our seed world."
"So you'll defend this planet?"
"On the contrary, I plan to let the infidels approach without
a fight. Then the worldship will engage them."
"There will be many capital ships, will the worldship and
desk hai together be enough to destroy them all?"
"With the help of my two surprises, they will." Sang Anor
was pacing now, as he usually did when expounding on some
grand idea. He walked into her field of vision and she saw him
clearly.
Three years hadn't changed him much, but the stress of
leadership had aged him somewhat: there were a few more lines
around his eyes, strands of silver in his black hair, but he still
moved with the strength and deadly grace of a Yuuzhan Vong. He
turned and those cold, terrible eyes found her slave. For a moment
she feared he would see past the Nesz and truly perceive her, but
the icy gaze passed over her as he spun to face his son.
"One surprise waits above us, the other is right here." He
pointed to the source of the tall shadow: the coral spire that
dominated the Yuuzhan Vong settlement. "The focusing tower.
As it reached out to crush the first strike force that attacked the
seed world, so it will be with the Imperial fleet. In the midst of
battle Thrawn's Star Destroyers will begin collapsing around him
for no reason he can comprehend. His commanders will panic and
the fight will be ours."
She would hear more, but the party of Nesz had moved
beyond hearing range. Now the hope beating in the slave's breast
flared up and she bent what remained of her will on hurrying her
pace. Wherever she was commanded to go, this slave wanted
desperately to be there. Since the slave was hastening to obey her
instructions, the Obeyers permitted her to increase the pace of her
footsteps. While the other slaves went to their destination with
neither eagerness nor reluctance, this slave was all but rushing to
meet her fate.
(But why...) then Vergere saw. And understood.
She saw the ranks of Nesz vanishing into the water, saw the
pit of the dead. How many lay there? Two thousand? Three?
Of course, Sang Anor was abandoning his seed world so he
no longer had a use for the native slaves. He was killing them all.
And this slave wanted to die.
Of course she did: she still had part of an Eternal in her. If
she died before that energy faded, she would be released into the
Force to join the other Eternals.
Then the Nesz was stepping into the water, up to her knees,
her neck, then it covered her face. She hurried to the bottom,
where her dissipating mind knew underground streams refreshed
the pond.
Vergere felt raw terror then. She had been here too long!
She tried to pull away from the slave's mind, but before she could,
the Nesz inhaled water.
Her lungs, (Vergere's) lungs, flooded. Her chest was
exploding with the pressure, reflexively, the slave's body tried to
expel the water, but there was just too much. She, (they,)
couldn't breathe! Couldn't breathe!
Under the bubble-dome, Nesz gathered around Vergere's
writhing form.
Even as the reptilian body began to float up to the surface,
she finally succeeded in pulling away from the dying Nesz. She
floated away, beyond the blankness and into the Force, then-
"Free!" A thought-voice full of joy followed her. She
turned and saw the spirit-shape of the Eternal, once a slave, flew
into the Force. Weakened from her time with the Yuuzhan Vong,
she gathered life energy to replenish herself as she spun and
danced through the currents. "I'm free!" she vanished, to join the
other Eternals.
Vergere followed her own lifeline, and opened her eyes to
see Oin and Stent standing over her. She spoke.
"I know what to do."
*************************************************
"Attack?" Stent sputtered. "We'd be slaughtered!"
"It doesn't seem a wise move." Oin pronounced with more
calm.
"The Yuuzhan Vong are abandoning this planet," Vergere
pressed, "and a great battle will soon take place overhead between
the Imperials and the Yuuzhan Vong. It is important that Thrawn's
forces win that battle." She turned to Stent. "If the extragalactics
aren't stopped here, they will eventually conquer the Unknown
Regions, then possibly even the rest of the galaxy.
She looked to Oin. "And believe me, if Sang Anor is
victorious he will not simply take his forces and leave. He will
want to completely eradicate his presence on your world, and if
that means destroying all life that exists here, he will do so." She
folded her hands. "This is your chance to expel the invaders from
this planet for good."
"A convincing argument." Oin allowed.
"How many Nesz will join in the fight?" She asked.
Oin bowed his head. For a long moment he said nothing.
"Oin," she repeated, "I realize there are few Nesz you can
spare, but-"
The Nesz raised his head. "All of them."
Vergere blinked. "What?"
"All of them. Every Nesz on the planet will join you." He
faced Vergere, and the Jedi flinched away from what she sensed
from him.
"But the elderly, the children-"
"There aren't any left." Oin didn't look away. "The sick,
the weak, the injured, the ones who couldn't run fast enough or
fight hard enough died a long time ago." And nothing was left but
the durasteel-hard core of the Nesz race. "What is your plan?"
"We wait for the right moment, when the battle is joined
high above, then we strike. There is a focusing tower, a spire of
coral, near the center of the alien stronghold, Sang Anor plans to
draw the Imperial into battle near this world to bring them within
the tower's reach, where it will inflict heavy losses on Unity Fleet.
We can turn this trap against him, however."
"But we have less than a hundred blasters," Stent pointed
out, "all pistols and many that are underpowered. We can't take on
hundreds of Yuuzhan Vong like this."
"The base will be all but deserted during the fight."
Vergere countered. "Sang Anor will need every able-bodied
warrior to fly a coralskipper."
"What of the natural defenses?" Oin said. "The Yuuzhan
Vong have established restraining fields around the perimeter with
their dovin basals, and there are many hidden traps, living traps,
that neither you nor we can sense."
"I've thought of a way to bypass all that." Vergere stroked
her feathers in thought. "And once we're past the defenses, the
tower should be easily taken."
"So that?s your plan." Stent nodded. "We take this weapon
away from them."
"No." Vergere shook her head. "That is merely the first
part. Afterwards it really gets difficult..." She shook her head.
"But there's no point to counting your fledglings before your eggs
hatch. Now, we go over the first stage in detail." She looked
sharply at Stent. "And if we get through this alive, remember the
Nesz to Thrawn. I want him to know their part in his victory."
"I give you my word." Stent said, then they began to go
over the Jedi's strategy. Some parts of the plan sounded like the
purest insanity, and the Jedi had to summon an Eternal to assure
Stent that, yes, these things could indeed be done. The drifting,
insubstantial phantom who floated among the twisting water-
sculptures seemed to erase all doubts.
But the Eternals were meanwhile communicating certain
other plans directly into Oin's mind, without the Jedi being aware
of the fact.
"May the Force be with us." Oin whispered.
*******************************************************
"A good plan," Nom Anor was nodding, "you've thought of
almost everything."
"'Almost?'" Sang Anor raised a brow.
"The Jedi." Nom Anor hissed. "She is still out there."
"Prefect Ke'Nas assured me she could not have survived
the (Night of Fire's) bombardment." Sang Anor mused. For once
he was inclined to agree with him: he'd seen the scorched
wastelands surrounding the settlement. Even Jedi were still flesh
and blood.
"I survived." His son pointed out.
"You had a place to go." Sang Anor said. "Right here.
The Jedi has no shelter: there is nothing for hundred of miles but
rivers, ponds and lakes. Where could she hide?"
"That, I don't know." Nom Anor's eyes gleamed. "But she
has done the impossible before. She has shown up when and
where she was not wanted before. She has ruined our plans
before." He slowly circled his father. "What if she interferes? We
both know the damage she can do." He was walking behind the
Executor now.
"And your suggestion?" Sang Anor spoke lightly.
"Let me remain here." Nom Anor stood at his father's left
shoulder now, his voice low and intense. "You sent me here for
her, I have hunted her with little success, but now I will make the
Jedi come to me. When she strikes, I will be waiting." He leaned
close to whisper in Sang Anor's ear. "I can still get her for you,
Father."
The Executor slowly turned his head and met his son's
gaze. His eyes were so like his mother's when she'd found a
project that excited her. "So be it."
Nom Anor snapped his fists against his shoulders. "I won't
fail you again."
"What will you need?"
"A few Yuuzhan Vong, little more than a garrison force,
some of our creature-servants," he paused a moment, "and
subaltern Ceis Grasm."
Sang Anor smiled a little. "You mean the female you
returned with."
"She has been a great help." Nom Anor said quickly.
"But Domain Grasm and Domain Nas have long been
allies." Sang Anor said playfully. "This was why she was left here
when I took the worldship out of this system the first time." He
glanced back to the focus tower, where Ke'Nas and Ceis Grasm
were having a conversation of their own. Well, not exactly a
conversation: the Prefect was firing angry questions at her in a low
voice. He tried to remain outwardly calm, but Sang Anor could
tell he was enraged. Could barely stop himself from shouting and
jumping up and down in fact. Then, the subaltern abruptly spun
and began striding away, leaving the Prefect with his mouth
hanging open.
"That is hardly her fault." Nom Anor was saying. "And I
believe she has come to recognize the...ah...virtues, of Domain
Anor." He colored a little.
"Ahh," Sang Anor nodded his head slowly. "By the way,
when you arrived, before fresh clothing was found for you, I
noticed that you have a few fresh scars."
"The slaves are very fierce, father." Nom Anor bowed his
head.
"I'm certain they are," Sang Anor kept a straight face,
barely, "but those did not look like battle scars to me. They
seemed instead the sort of markings one acquires in...other
pursuits."
"I...ah," Nom Anor stammered.
"Enough." Sang Anor chuckled and clapped a hand on his
son's shoulder. He glanced at Ceis Grasm's retreating figure, then
back at Nom Anor. "Go on. I was young once, though it may be
hard for you to believe. I understand these things." He jerked his
head in the subaltern's direction.
"Yes Executor, thank you Executor," he stepped away,
bobbing his head quickly, then he was running after her.
Sang Anor shook his head and chuckled as he walked
toward the focusing tower.
********************************************
Looking out the transparasteel viewport in the conference
room, Captain Voss Parck saw all the might of the Empire
assembled.
Not literally, of course, but the majority of Unity Fleet had
gathered here. A hundred Star Destroyers, almost twice that
number of smaller battleships and strike cruisers, and wings of TIE
fighter swarming among them. He even saw the (Admonitor,)
whole and ready for revenge.
Even knowing what the enemy they would soon face was
capable of, he still felt an almost electric thrill of energy (zap)
through his veins on seeing the power Thrawn commanded openly
displayed.
Reluctantly, he turned from the view. Nine holographic
representations of the commanders were gathered around the
table. Thrawn stood on the central holopad, with Raine and Beyin
near at hand. Parck took his place at their side.
"Gentlemen," the Grand Admiral began, "in one day we
make our initial jump into the Sevac system. I trust by now you
have all reviewed the pertinent information regarding the enemy
and have passed the tactics we've devised to your crews and fighter
pilots."
"We're drilling them, sir." A Chiss captain said. Like the
rest of the alien Imperials, there was a grim cast to his features.
Parck had seen them walking the corridors of the (Imperator,)
silent, eyes staring straight ahead, as if fixed on some goal only
they could see. They no longer held the familiar, haughty air about
them that Parck had come to associate with Chiss. Now they
exhaled a quiet menace that warned one not to get too close to
them. The human crewers avoided the aliens as they would a pack
of Noghri under a blood-oath.
"The target system." Thrawn activated a console set into
the head of the table. As usual, the Grand Admiral was calm and
collected, the voice of reason and the strong, guiding hand, even
though Parck knew he was as furious as any of his Chiss followers.
A three-dimensional holographic map of the Sevac system
appeared floating over the table complete with planetary bodies,
the asteroid belt and hyperspace entry points.
"This map is in broad strokes," Thrawn went on, "there has
never been a detailed survey of the Sevac system, but the general
reports are accurate. From them, I was able to piece this chart
together. We are dealing with a system of eleven planets, all
undeveloped, at least by means we are familiar with." He added.
"Only one of these worlds, and two moons, are habitable, but we
will need to check all of them. The Yuuzhan Vong have held that
system for a long time.
"The fleet will enter here, after the initial scouting." A
pinpoint of red appeared on the rim of the star system, marking the
position of the entire fleet. Parck set his mouth in a grim line:
even with three hundred ships, this was still a lot of space to cover.
"The primary objective is the Yuuzhan Vong worldship, a
vessel comparable to the Death Star in scale. I expect we will
have no trouble locating it: the enemy challenged me himself. He
desires a decisive battle and thinks to destroy our ships, but we can
use this to our advantage. Sang Anor has been forced to bait his
trap with himself and his worldship, giving us our best opportunity
to end the Yuuzhan Vong threat.
"The fleet will be divided into ten attack groups, each one
composed of ten Star Destroyers and twice that number of smaller
vessels. This will provide flexibility for the fleet, but overall
coordination is an important factor as well. The (Imperator) will
lead the primary group, where I will issue directions to you."
Parck and the other nine commanders listened carefully.
"Once we jump insystem we will locate the worldship, but
we must approach and engage with caution. We will need to make
certain no enemies will be waiting to flank us from behind." He
deactivated the hologram turned his eyes to the three Chiss
commanders.
"One final point for your Chiss crewers." And now the
calm, businesslike voice became something else, something that
froze Parck's blood. "Remember what Sang Anor has done to
Homeworld. Hold that rage in your heart and draw strength from
it, but that hate must serve you, not the other way around. The
Yuuzhan Vong (will) be victorious if you or any of the Chiss
crewers under your command allow rage to cloud your judgement.
You are still Chiss, and will comport yourselves as such."
The commanders saluted and their holograms dissolved.
Thrawn turned to face Raine. "I suspect you wish to know how my
phalanx will be deployed."
"Correct, Syndic." The commander shifted her glowing
eyes to Thrawn. Her tone, like the Admiral's, was one of calm and
level.
"I believe attempting to mix Chiss and Imperial ships at
this early point would not be a wise move. The phalanx will act as
its own strike group, independent from Unity Fleet and under your
command. However, I am assigning General Beyin to the
(Sentinel) in an advisory position."
The commander narrowed her eyes slightly. For a moment,
Parck thought she would object, and object strongly. He had
reckoned, however, without the discipline drilled into the Chiss
military, which dictated that a phalanx commander would
(always) defer to a Syndic, at least in public.
"Yes, Syndic, but I very much doubt that an...advisor...is
necessary."
"Nevertheless, the General will accompany you back to the
(Sentinel.) You and my phalanx are both highly capable, but you
are quite unused to large-scale battles and offensive combat. I
understand you have been running several simulations which deal
with this sort of war for some time now, and have been training the
phalanx in those simulations," Parck saw her start a little on
hearing that, "but Beyin has hard-earned experienced in fighting
outside of Chiss space." He glanced at the General, "he will defer
to your decisions, but you will heed his advice. Is this
understood?" His tone clearly marked this as a deal-breaker: she
would agree or the phalanx would have no part in the assault, no
chance for revenge for Homeworld.
"I understand, lord." She cut her eyes to Beyin. "General, a
berth will await you on the (Sentinel.)" The elder Chiss merely
nodded. "I have one other matter to discuss with you, Syndic.
Since it has been announced that you now have a phalanx again, I
have been flooded with requests for enlistment from every
Imperial Chiss in Unity Fleet."
"Understandable, Commander." Thrawn paced slowly
around the table. "These men have abandoned their homes and
Houses to serve with the Empire. It is only natural they would
welcome an opportunity to become part of a legitimate House once
more."
"(Your) House." Only the slightest of inflections on the
first word.
"What other House do they have?" Thrawn merely
shrugged. "It will give them a chance to reclaim their identities as
Chiss."
"Lord, a number of," she stopped herself from saying
'savages,' "humans wish to join the phalanx as well."
"Really." The Grand Admiral remarked in an offhand
manner. "An interesting turn of events. I must look closer into
this when I have time. Thank you very much, Commander. You
are dismissed."
Parck had thought the female Chiss was angered before,
but by the flash of her glowing eyes it was nothing to the fury she
felt now. "Yes, Syndic." She turned on her heel and strode out the
door. The captain didn't know exactly what had happened just
now, but he sensed important matters swimming just under the
placid surface of that conversation.
"There are things I must see to as well, Admiral." Parck
ventured.
"Of course, Captain. Dismissed."
Parck gladly took his leave. He had no desire to become
involved in Chiss politics: he had enough problems organizing the
(Imperator) and the other ships that made up his strike force.
Of course, Thrawn not only had his own problems to deal
with, but those of the entire fleet as well. The captain's own
troubles were minuscule by comparison, so he resolved to handle
them as effectively as possible and look for more problems to
correct besides.
Thrawn's ability to inspire this kind of devotion in his
underlings was one of his greatest weapons.
***************************************************
"Syndic, I believe you're making a mistake." Was the first
thing out of Beyin's mouth after Parck had left the General and
Admiral alone.
"Concerning what, Beyin?" Thrawn completed his circuit
round the table and pulled out a chair, but did not sit down.
"In leaving that female in command of your phalanx." Now
that they were alone, custom allowed some show of emotion, so
the General put force behind his words.
"You have a problem with Commander Raine?" Thrawn
drummed his fingers against the back of the chair.
"Not a personal problem, sir, but it is scientific fact that
females are incapable of quick, logical thinking during times of
great stress, exactly when a commander most needs his wits about
him."
Thrawn turned a sharp glance on Beyin. "General that is
not 'science,' but the fruits of superstition and ignorance."
"Revisionist nonsense." The General responded. "The
female body is at the mercy of glands, hormones and chemical
imbalances that render them mentally and physically unfit for
military service."
"Ah," Thrawn sat down and regarded Beyin, "tell me,
General, does your wife share these views?" He asked casually.
"Perhaps I should bring them up when next she and I meet, if the
Families will that we win today, of course."
Beyin's eyes widened, and though Chiss couldn't turn pale,
the shade of his skin (did) turn rather sickly. "Well, eh, my Mejas
is merely the exception that proves the rule." He said quickly.
"But I still would never place a female in a command position,
especially one in the throws of grief."
Thrawn stiffened, ever so slightly. "Grief, General? What
do you mean by 'grief?'"
"I recognize the look, sir. I've seen it many times in
the past, every time I delivered my condolences to the widow of a
soldier who died in combat. Mark me, Commander Raine lost
someone during the attack on Homeworld, and she will be blinded
by emotion when we battle the Yuuzhan Vong."
Thrawn decided then and there not to mention Raine's
relationship with Vraet. Beyin would only call her ability into
question, and Thrawn's judgement.
"General, I said before that Raine had been preparing the
phalanx, when it had been Vraet's phalanx," his hand trembled
slightly on the armrest, but he stilled in a moment, "for warfare on
a grand scale. Do you know why?"
"No sir, I do not."
"She was preparing to fight Unity Fleet, Beyin. To fight
(us,) and she was convincing Vraet to press the rest of the Syndics
into war before I became too powerful to overcome."
The general's red eyes flashed. He strode to stand before
Thrawn. "Sir what you've told me is grounds to have her removed
here and now: this throws doubt over her loyalty!"
"You don't see the whole picture, Beyin." Thrawn shook
his head. "Look at these qualities: she is capable, brave, intelligent
and able to take both a broad and detailed view of events. And
yes, she is loyal. She is loyal to the Chiss, as we all are. She saw a
threat to the Chiss and immediately began working on a way to
counter it. This is an extraordinary officer we have, General, and a
valuable addition to our forces."
"But...she doesn't intend to remain in your service once the
battle is over."
"She will, Beyin." Thrawn replied. "I'm seeing to it."
"How?"
"The phalanx, General, will not be easy for her to leave.
She has made herself a place there, an identity. For years she has
worked to earn the trust and respect of those under her command,
and she has trained them to meet her own high standards. She
(made) that phalanx what it is today, and now she sees what she
has made threatened. You saw her reaction when we spoke of new
enlistments: the recruits from Unity Fleet will outnumber the
phalanx troops four to one.
"The outfit will be flooded with Chiss who have turned
their backs on their own Houses, Chiss with Imperial training, who
will remake the phalanx into an extension of Unity Fleet and
nothing more. And if that will pollute the phalanx, imagine what
humans joining would do. Will Raine allow it? Never." He stood
and paced, continuing in a calm yet implacable, ruthless voice.
"My home guard will bind her to us like a durasteel chain. The
Empire will benefit greatly."
And more importantly, Thrawn would not lose his last link
to his son.
"I still think you're mistaken." Beyin warned. "Only a fool
thinks he can accurately predict how a female will behave: they
themselves do not know what they will do from one moment to the
nest. I'm still going to keep a close watch on her."
"I wouldn't expect anything less of you."
Beyin looked satisfied for a moment and nodded, but as he
turned to go a troubled expression crossed his features. He looked
back at Thrawn.
"You're humoring me, aren't you?" He said. "You
predicted Raine's reaction. So you must have predicted mine as
well. You foresaw this conversation and had a counter ready for
every argument I made." He frowned. "Then, as a, what, a
consolation prize?-you place me on her ship to show that my
services are still valued."
"Yes." Thrawn crossed his arms. "And to give you an
opportunity to judge the commander's ability for yourself."
"Even after all that's happened, you're still manipulating all
of us like a child playing with his toys. Don't you ever stop?"
The Admiral frowned. "Not like a child and toys, Beyin.
Never like that."
"A craftsman using his tools then. Is that more
appropriate?" Even in this informal setting, Beyin didn't allow
anger to color his tone. They were Chiss, after all.
"No, still a bad analogy. A tool cannot think, General. A
tool cannot be left on its own to complete a task, or be trusted with
responsibilities. A tool cannot work toward the craftsman's goal
with the same dedication as the craftsman himself." He shook his
head. "I value everyone who serves under me, but yes: I do
manipulate them. I do so to bring out their best performance, and
in answer to your question, no: I don't ever stop. I can't stop, not
to rest, not to grieve, not to celebrate a victory, because there is
always one more challenge just over the horizon. One more enemy
to prepare for." Thrawn's mouth twitched, but he didn't look away.
"I have always considered you a friend, Beyin, and for what
it's worth I do regret having to manipulate you, but in all
likelihood I will continue to do so in the future. If this means I
forfeit that friendship, then so be it. I have already sacrificed more
than that in doing what I believe is right."
For a moment Beyin said nothing, then he sighed and shook
his head. "I understand. Families know I should: I'm a general
myself. I guess it was just difficult for me to face how far you've
come: I remember when you were just a young lordling sent to
learn from me. I remember (disciplining) you. Yes, every teacher
rejoices when his student surpasses him, but even then..." He
trailed off. "You're a giant, Thrawn, you're the kind of man who
(makes) history. Often, such giants tend to crush lesser folk
without even realizing it."
Thrawn thought over what the general had said. "I do what
I must," was the only answer he had.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Prefect." Sang Anor shook
his head as he stared at the thick, black clouds that rose against the
sky and turned noon to dusk. (Though I don't know why,) he
mused, (this kind of incompetence is about what I've come to
expect from you.)
"The slaves who fought us aren't going to be a problem
anymore." Ke'Nas crossed his arms and smiled, his ever-sneering
face practically glowing with pride as a band of Nesz slowly
walked by them. "I've scorched half this planet, and tsik vai are
flying overhead. They fire on anything that moves." And Nom
Anor hadn't come back yet.
Ke'Nas could barely hold back bubbles of laughter when
he'd told Sang Anor. The Executor was concerned, but he
wouldn't believe Nom Anor was dead until he saw the body
himself. This was Ke'Nas, after all: if he was trying to do you
harm then you could look forward to a long and happy life. It was
only time to start worrying when the Prefect was trying to help
you.
"You've made progress indeed," Sang Anor conceded. "A
planet full of life that could have been shaped to serve us or used
as nutrients for the coral field is now all but useless." Another
group of Nesz trudged past where they stood, on the shores of a
large lake that lay near the center of the Yuuzhan Vong settlement.
Underground streams, regulated by Yuuzhan Vong servant-
creatures, carried water to the growing projects and carried waste
material away from the coral field.
The Prefect laughed a little. "What does it matter if this
world lives or dies? You've already given the order to abandon it."
True enough. Even now transports of yorrik coral were ferrying
almost every Yuuzhan Vong on the planet and all fully shaped
creatures up to the worldship while another stream of empty
transports flew down to the surface to collect more.
Above them, the mottled red-black orb of the (Long
Reach) hung like a midday moon.
Sang Anor glanced at a passing tsik vai. "I want those
flyers recalled," he said, "those pilots will be needed in
corralskippers." Another hundred slaves walked silently past,
reptilian snouts drooping. "The (Long Reach of Death) and the
desk hai are easily a match for the infidels' Star Destroyers, but
their TIE fighters could prove a problem. Thrawn has hoards of
the things and he knows how to use them." The small, fast fighters
could harass larger ships and tire their dovin basals, creating weak
points for the battleships to capitalize on.
"That's why you're having the shapers drop all other
projects in favor of growing missiles and grutchin." Ke'Nas
deduced, still wearing his idiotically pleased expression.
Sang Anor nodded. Missiles and grutchin were faster to
shape than coralskippers and they needed no pilots. Guided by the
yammosk, they would thin out the numbers of TIE fighters during
the battle.
"I've all but emptied the worldship. Every warrior will
have to fly a coralskipper, and the noncombatants, priests, shapers
and the rest, are being sent out of the system. They've been
instructed to disperse and hide themselves until the battle is over
and it's safe to rejoin the (Long Reach.)"
"And you're going to take on the entire infidel fleet?"
Ke'Nas shook his head. "I've always thought you were mad,
Executor." He watched the other Yuuzhan Vong carefully.
"You're fighting Thrawn in the field he excels in: open warfare."
"Oh, I'm having a few tricks prepared for him." Sang
Anor's eyes gleamed. "This system will be the Grand Admiral's
last battlefield. We (will) have victory."
"But a costly one." The Prefect pressed. "Many of our
warriors will perish. How do you expect to conquer the Unknown
Regions if half or more of our number die right now?"
"The planets of this galaxy team with life, Ke'Nas. Life
which can be shaped to serve us and fight for us."
"Living weapons and warrior-slaves?" The Prefect
chuckled. "Mindless tools are nothing without a Yuuzhan Vong to
direct them."
"Most of the sentients in this galaxy are destined for slavery
or sacrifice, yes, but there are exceptions." He glanced over his
shoulder and motioned for the new arrival to approach.
Wearing vonduun shell armor and with an amphistaff
curled round his arm, Wras looked and carried himself like a
Yuuzhan Vong warrior. He snapped his fists against his shoulders
and bowed his head to each of his superiors. "Belek tiu Executor,
Prefect." Tattoos swirled around his blue face, and his eyes
glowed with fanatical fire.
"Look at me, Wras." The glowing eyes met the Executor's.
"Why do you exist?" Sang Anor queried.
"I live for the gods, I kill for the gods, I will die for the
gods." The shaped Chiss answered.
"So you do. Give tribute to the gods, Wras." Without a
second's hesitation, the Chiss made a fist and struck his nose,
breaking it. Blood streamed down his chin and he prepared to hit
himself once again. "Enough." Sang Anor reached out and
brushed his claws along Wras' face, as he had done once before.
The convert didn't flinch, even though the talons were a hair away
from breaking the blue skin.
Sang Anor slowly circled Wras. "If one of the Imperial
Chiss were here before us, someone you respected, someone who
had flown as your wingmate and saved your life countless times,
and it was necessary to sacrifice this one, what would you do?"
"With my own hands, Executor, I would bind the infidel
into the Embrace of Pain."
"Look at him, Prefect." Sang Anor completed his circuit.
"Less than a month with us and already as strong as a Yuuzhan
Vong and as dedicated to the gods as one born into their service. I
am so satisfied that he's now one of us I've arranged to have him
adopted into Domain Rapuung." Wras started, almost
imperceptibly, and a glow of pride lit in his eyes. "And I'm told
we have a human who might be suitable for the shaping process."
He looked to Wras. "If we only find one like him among a
thousand slaves, that still yields up hundreds of thousands on every
inhabited planet we take. Our numbers will be replenished in a
year," he turned back to Ke'Nas, "and by then there will be a
functioning shipwomb in this galaxy to grow battleships en masse.
In five years the Yuuzhan Vong will rule the Unknown Regions,
the Chiss (and) the Ssi-Ruuk. In five more years I will be
standing on Coruscant, supervising that world's cleansing." When
the Supreme Overlord arrived, twenty years hence, Sang Anor
would greet him with a (billion) sacrifices, and the Overlord
would name Sang Anor his heir on the spot.
He glanced at Ke'Nas and saw the Prefect was shaken.
Good. He had sense enough to realize the indirect threat: Sang
Anor had said 'I,' not 'we.' The Executor would be on Coruscant
in ten years, but where would Ke'Nas be? Ke'Nas knew that war
had just been declared.
The Prefect noticed his Executor watching him and looked
away quickly, not meeting Sang Anor's eyes. He was bold enough
to yap and nip at his superior's heels, but there would be no direct
challenge: Ke'Nas knew who the alpha male of this pack was.
Sang Anor's authority was well-established by now, but
Ke'Nas' acknowledgment wasn't going to save him: the Prefect had
proved too treacherous, and incompetent besides. True, the
Executor had found him valuable in helping test his son's mettle,
but he no longer had any use for the Prefect and what Sang Anor
couldn't use, he didn't keep.
The Executor experienced a rush of pleasure in the fact that
he controlled the life, the death, the (fate) of another. Of all the
things in creation, power was the most addictive.
It had been this way since he was a child and he began to
understand the concept of power: gaining, keeping and controlling
of it. Power was in the teacher who decided which of the creche
children was worthy and which would be sacrificed, the priest who
divined the future, the shaper who molded life to suit the needs of
the Yuuzhan Vong, the warrior who dealt out death to enemies of
the gods, but most of all power lay in being able to command all
those persons and be obeyed.
For as long as he could remember, the idea of power had
teased him, enticed him, danced before him seductively,
suggestively, and yet it was elusive, always remaining just out of
reach. He worked hard to climb the ranks, yet the reward's he'd
received failed to satisfy him. The escalations and promotions
he'd earned were mere tastes, the great feast remained out of reach.
Many Yuuzhan Vong who desired power concentrated on
what cause they could apply it to. They held the notion of using
their power to further the cause of the gods and their people. To
Sang Anor, however, power was its own reward. In many ways
this was an addiction, and like every addict Sang Anor came to
need greater doses of his drug. He had to have more, and more,
and (more!)
Ke'Nas was right: this was a kind of madness.
Yet even knowing this, Sang Anor was not dissuaded. He
had sacrificed all that he loved for his ambitions: his wife had been
taken from him and possibly even his son, yet this had only
strengthened his resolve to see those ambitions fulfilled. After all,
if he gave up or failed to achieve the goals he'd set for himself,
well, then he really would have nothing.
"You've thought of everything," Ke'Nas murmured, "so
how will the battle be waged?" More Nesz trudged past.
"I have a few things in mind." Sang Anor frowned. "A pity
the fifth battleship being grown in the field will not be ready for
the battle. Even if it is completed before the Empire arrives, there
is still no time to train it." He shrugged. "But I believe I have a
use for it, as well as for the handful of Yuuzhan Vong who will
remain on this planet." The hundred Nesz did as the hundred dull-
eyed slaved that had preceded them: they waded into the pool until
they submerged, floated down to the bottom, then opened their
jaws and breathed in the water.
When water filled their lungs, the Obeyers within each
slave took over completely and propelled the corpses on a walk
along the bottom, then a climb back up the side to shore. The dead
muscles were still fresh and flexible enough for the Obeyers to use.
They moved the bodied out of the water and collapsed them a few
steps away, where a band of Nesz slaves waited.
They did as they had done with those that proceeded this
group: they peeled back the scaly skin to extract the Obeyers,
lumpish things that extended long trailers into the reptiles' nerves.
The slaves were instructed to simply yank the Obeyers out,
snapping the links like thread. The Obeyers could always grow
new nerve cells. If the slaves had still been alive at this point, the
removal of the implants would have killed them: their bodies were
dependent on them by now.
They set the Obeyers of one slave aside, picked up its body
and tossed it into a nearby trench where close to a thousand dead
Nesz were piled.
This seed world had been a fine experiment, but useless
now that it was compromised. The Yuuzhan Vong didn't have the
time or resources to transport their slaves up to the worldship, and
more could easily be taken on their next conquered planet, so Sang
Anor had decided on simply eliminating them all. When all the
other slaves were dead, those Nesz who took care of the bodies
would be the last to enter the pool and die.
A small sacrifice, but anything that might persuade the
gods to look with favor on him was worth trying.
Ke'Nas smacked his lips and wiped a film of sweat from
his brow. "I'm parched," he looked around, "where is that slave?"
He caught sight of an elderly Nesz coming toward them. Too frail
for exerting itself in the coral fields, the Yuuzhan Vong used it
those in similar conditions to fetch and carry light objects, like the
serving platter with two goblets it now bore.
"That took long enough," the Prefect took one of the
goblets and drank the chilled wine. "I applaud your decision to
give up on these creatures, Executor. They make the weakest,
laziest slaves I've ever known, and they're ridiculously stubborn in
their resistance."
Sang Anor raised a brow as he inspected his own goblet.
"Resist?" He spoke dryly. "With spears and bows against
amphistaffs and plasma cannons?"
"The gods-cursed things act like feral grutchin." The
Prefect said defensively. "They fight by setting traps and
ambushes, and they know the swamps: they strike quickly and then
melt into the grass and trees, even the water. The shapers who
examined their bodies say they can hold their breath for hours, and
there must be thousands of underground streams connecting these
swamps."
The Prefect grimaced. "If that weren't bad enough, the
ignorant things would rather die than be taken captive and shown
the true path."
"The number of slaves taken alive has been negligible as of
late." Sang Anor agreed.
"You would think they would show some of that energy
and determination now that we've shown them their destined place
in the universe." Ke'Nas shook his head in disgust at the slaves?
ingratitude as another hundred walked past them to drown
themselves. "We're well rid of them."
"Will it be difficult to replace them, Executor?" Wras
asked.
"No, not that I really had a choice either way." The dead
slaves stumbled out of the water and collapsed on the shore. A
young slave turned one of the bodies over, dug its sharp claws
under the skin that covered a growth and began to peel. "We don't
have time to transport them to the worldship." He frowned at the
wine and poured it on the ground between his feet, "I prefer to
remain clearheaded on the eve of battle." He said as he walked to
the pool, knelt and dipped the empty goblet under the water.
As he stood, he heard shouts of greeting. He, Wras and the
Prefect turned their eyes to a trio of approaching Yuuzhan Vong.
One was a sentry who had been posted near the edge of the field,
to his right was a female, young and quite striking, and to his left-
"Executor," the sentry snapped fists to shoulders and
bowed, "Belek tiu, these persons approached the edge of the field
and asked for admittance-"
Sang Anor half-heard him, a sure of pure joy had
overwhelmed him, so much so that he could barely keep his face
impassive. All attention was focused on the sight of Nom Anor,
scorched, scarred, nearly naked, but alive. Ke'Nas had gone red,
then white. Sang Anor raised his goblet in a silent toast, then
threw back his head and drained the water.
And the pit of the dead continued to fill.
**********************************************
It was midday, but when Vergere looked upwards she could
only see darkness above the layers of water. The fires were still
burning strong.
"Most of my men are accounted for," Stent was saying, "if
your Nesz-ghosts can be believed, only three were lost in the fire."
"You can believe them," Vergere said softly, "how many
injuries?"
"A lot of burns, but the natives are treating them. A few
are sick from breathing in smoke. One pilot broke his arm, but he
insists he can still fire a blaster with his good hand." There was
mingled pride and amusement under the cool, controlled tone.
"We can fight."
He gazed up at the dome of air that kept the water from
crushing them. "Funny, I'm almost used to this place. It's not that
different from the energy shields that keep vaccuum out of a
fighter bay," he frowned, "the only difference being that I
understand how an energy shield works." Stent leaned close to the
Jedi and whispered, "how much longer can (they) keep this
going?"
Vergere turned to face him. Lit by both his glowing eyes
and by the many small, glowing orbs of air molecules that drifted
around the dome, Stent's features were drawn tight. "Two days."
The Fosh answered. "The Eternals are weakening as this world's
native life dies, but they can hide us a little longer."
"Then what?" Stent demanded, but kept his voice low so
the other Imperials wouldn't hear. "There's no cover on the
surface, not anymore. We'll burn to death or get spotted and vaped
by Vong fliers if we stray from here!" He snarled, anger entering
his tone. "You and your lizard friends have led us into a pit of
spikes!"
"You're alive." Vergere pointed out calmly. "Your men
have a chance."
"A chance to do what?" Stent clenched his fists. "To wait
until the air runs out or the water crushes us? And how can you
just sit here?" He glanced around. "We need a plan!" And by his
tone, the Chiss plainly expected her to have a course of action
ready.
Vergere sighed, once again the weight of the world was set
on her shoulders. Instead of frustration and anger, however, she
experienced a pleasantly nostalgic feeling. It was as her Master
had often said: "you'll find the most annoying part of being a Jedi is
everyone expects you to solve all their problems."
(How right you are, Thracia.) She shook her head. "I
need to consult the Force for guidance."
"I can't leave my men to rot while you daydream!" Stent
raised his voice and took a step toward her, but a scaly hand on his
arm stopped him. He looked down at Oin.
"Leave her alone." The young Nesz spoke in Basic.
"Don't presume to-"
"Will you put on such a shameful display in front of your
men?" Oin hissed. "What kind of Chiss are you?"
Vergere smiled, Oin had certainly learned how to
manipulate the Chiss. The flight commander remembered the
pilots sitting or crouching nearby, watching him with curious
human eyes and glowing Chiss gazes. Stent pulled himself
together and allowed Oin to draw him away from Vergere, his
boots squished on the muddy ground.
The Jedi turned her attention to the other inhabitants of the
dome. It was a fairly small space, holding a mere dozen Imperials
and Nesz. Those who had survived were hidden in many such
domes in the swamps near the Yuuzhan Vong settlement, safe
from detection by the aliens, but unable to stir for fear of revealing
themselves.
The humans and Chiss were holding up well, despite the
close quarters and strange circumstances. Stent had instructed
them not to move or speak any more than was necessary to keep
from using up the air too soon. Imperial discipline and the
knowledge of shared danger held them in a perpetually watchful
state. Their blasters were near at hand, though they probably
wouldn't be much use underwater.
There was another reason for staying still: the water wasn't
held back by any method they could understand, and
subconsciously there was the fear that any sudden action by them
could disrupt the delicate forces that kept them dry.
The glowing orbs floated around the dome, providing light
for the fugitives and illuminating the fluid, mobile sculptures that
shared the chamber with them. Twisting and turning, swelling and
thinning, the art of the Eternals entranced them all. The light
shimmered across their rippling surfaces.
Vergere closed her eyes and slowly floated out of her own
body. She left a thread of energy connecting her spirit to her
physical flesh as a lifeline and let the currents of the Force take her
where she needed to be.
For a time, she experienced the disembodied existence of
the Eternals. She sensed them as they spent their remaining
strength to maintain underwater safehouses for the remaining
Nesz. And she sensed the Nesz as well. The bright lights of
Eternals wearing flesh and experiencing life for the thousandth
time and the first time all at once.
There were so few of them left. A little more than five
hundred natives remained on the entire planet, all of which were
concentrated in the same general area. It really hit home how few
Nesz remained, what the Yuuzhan Vong had cost them.
She sensed the Eternals as well. It would be hard not too:
there were so many of them. She estimated around five thousand
of them living in the Force and was shocked for a moment by the
ratio of living to dead. Then she realized it was natural: with so
many Nesz dying in such a short space of time, with the survivors
having neither the time nor the inclination to birth infant bodies for
the Eternals, of course there would be unprecedented numbers of
Nesz in their disembodied form.
This also explained why the Eternals hadn't created these
underwater hideaways earlier: there were few of the spirit-Nesz
then, but after the Yuuzhan Vong had slaughtered them by the
hundreds there were enough to combine their strength and hide the
relatively few Nesz who still lived.
"Hello again, Vergere."
The Jedi turned to face the presence that took form in the
Force. Not that she had a 'face' or a body (to) turn at the moment,
but it translated into about the same thing.
"Dra." She wasn't sure whether or not to make small talk,
as diplomacy suggested, or even where to start if she did. 'You're
looking well,' didn't seem a very appropriate thing to say to a dead
person.
"The others decided I should be the one to talk with you,
because I so recently traveled with you and Oin."
"They made a good choice," and the mention of choices
reminded Vergere of a question she meant to ask. "Dra, tell me,
why did you choose Oin to succeed you?"
"It wasn't just me," the Eternal shook his head, his features
shifting, "all the Eternals decided."
"Again, why?"
"For the same reason we chose him to accompany you
offworld when last you were here and trusted him with our secret,
for the qualities you've doubtless seen in him during your time
together. In all his lives, 'Oin' has been the bravest, most
intelligent, adaptable and loyal of Nesz, and among the Eternals he
is counted as the wisest."
"I see," Vergere was taken aback for a moment, "thank you,
I couldn't have asked for a better friend during all this. Now why
did you call for me?"
"I need to show you something unusual," Dra answered,
"come with me." The world shifted around them and they stood at
the edge of a vast nothingness.
That is what it appeared to be, at least: a wide blank space
that extended for as far as she could perceive: the things she 'saw'
were all reflections in the Force, so the Yuuzhan Vong stronghold
would not register.
"I don't see anything different." The Fosh Jedi said.
"Turn your attention upward." Dra advised.
The empty space extended only as high as the tallest
Yuuzhan Vong building, which the Force outlined. Above that,
nothing but sky.
And two chains of blank spaces, lifting and descending
from the nothingness.
"You see?" Dra said. "This has been going on for half the
day."
Vergere observed the large blanks as they lowered
themselves to the surface while others took off and slowly flew
upwards. "About the size of cargo transports." She said. "Sang
Anor and the worldship must have returned, and the Yuuzhan
Vong are either moving things down to the surface or up to the
(Long Reach.)"
"Is there any way to find out which, or why?"
"Not like this." Vergere shook her head. "You would need
to send another spy in to scout them out, like Oin did."
"It wouldn't work," Dra shook his insubstantial 'head,' "the
Yuuzhan Vong have been on their guard since we began fighting
back. Sentries are everywhere."
"Then-" Vergere paused, "what's that?" She saw
something, a small, fading speck of light near the center of the
emptiness.
"I can't tell." Dra frowned. "It's too faint."
Vergere reached out over the field nothing to the point of
light, made contact and drew herself into the luminescence, and
found herself looking through the eyes of a Nesz.
*********************************************
She was a slave, one of many hundreds gathered under the
shadows of coral buildings. Piggybacking on the Nesz's
subconscious, she opened the slave?s recent memory and saw how
the boxy Yuuzhan Vong transports were landing to be loaded up
with villips, dovin basals, razorbugs and everything else that had
been grown on the coral field, then the transports would close and
lift off.
(The Yuuzhan Vong are abandoning this planet!) She
realized. (But why? Unless Thrawn is finally making a move in
this direction.) Fear rippled through her. Was her vision finally
coming to pass? A dead planet, nothing left of the Nesz...
(No, I can stop it. I have to!)
Somehow.
She realized suddenly that her host was moving. Along
with about a hundred others, she left the main group and walked
slowly to some unknown goal. She tried to make contact with the
Nesz mind she inhabited, but received no response. The slave's
will was too beaten down, and in truth there was little she could
talk with: the slaves were all implanted with Obeyers, and like all
Yuuzhan Vong servants these control-creatures didn't exist in the
Force. Worse, as their power spread through the slaves' bodies, the
victims' natural affinity with the Force was destroyed, thus
rendering them as blank as Yuuzhan Vong creatures.
With Nesz, though, it was far worse: earlier, Dra had
explained that Obeyers destroyed the Eternal within a captured
Nesz, condemning it to true and final death. This one had been a
recent implant, so she still retained a small part of what went on
after dying. Soon, however, even that would fade and the slave
would simply be an organic machine, moving and breathing but
soulless, governed by no will other than the Obeyers themselves.
This was the reason she couldn't touch any of the other
Nesz, nor would their free brothers and sisters feel when these
ones were hurt or killed: they were already dead in every way that
mattered.
The slave herself wasn't even away of Vergere, but the Jedi
sensed something within her: a strange, desperate hope, though the
Fosh didn't know the reason.
The group of one hundred was passing a tall spire of coral
that cast it's shadow across them when she heard Sang Anor's
voice.
She tried to turn the slave's head, but the Eternal she was
connected with just didn't have the strength: it was the Obeyers
that governed this body, and they had no such orders from their
Yuuzhan Vong masters.
"-expect a response from Thrawn soon." There was no
doubt about it: even after three years she remembered his voice
clearly. If she were in her own flesh she would shudder. "A most
violent response, so we must hurry. I need everything remotely
useful transferred to the worldship before the sun sets." There, out
of the corner of her eye she glimpsed two figures as she passed.
"That will be difficult, but it can be managed." She
recognized the other voice as well. So Nom Anor had survived the
fires. "When do you think the attack will come?"
"The moment Thrawn can assemble all his forces. I
estimate two days at most."
"Are you going to position the worldship near the
hyperspace entrance points? We could destroy the Imperials as
they enter the system."
"No, it wouldn't work. Thrawn will send in a few advance
scouts to look for a trap before jumping his fleet in. I mean to
destroy him and all his strength, not just a few ships. The
preparations for the battle are nearly complete."
"So the fight will be on our chosen battleground." Nom
Anor said. Vergere strained her hearing as the slow-moving slaves
shuffled past. "Where will it be?"
"The skies above our seed world."
"So you'll defend this planet?"
"On the contrary, I plan to let the infidels approach without
a fight. Then the worldship will engage them."
"There will be many capital ships, will the worldship and
desk hai together be enough to destroy them all?"
"With the help of my two surprises, they will." Sang Anor
was pacing now, as he usually did when expounding on some
grand idea. He walked into her field of vision and she saw him
clearly.
Three years hadn't changed him much, but the stress of
leadership had aged him somewhat: there were a few more lines
around his eyes, strands of silver in his black hair, but he still
moved with the strength and deadly grace of a Yuuzhan Vong. He
turned and those cold, terrible eyes found her slave. For a moment
she feared he would see past the Nesz and truly perceive her, but
the icy gaze passed over her as he spun to face his son.
"One surprise waits above us, the other is right here." He
pointed to the source of the tall shadow: the coral spire that
dominated the Yuuzhan Vong settlement. "The focusing tower.
As it reached out to crush the first strike force that attacked the
seed world, so it will be with the Imperial fleet. In the midst of
battle Thrawn's Star Destroyers will begin collapsing around him
for no reason he can comprehend. His commanders will panic and
the fight will be ours."
She would hear more, but the party of Nesz had moved
beyond hearing range. Now the hope beating in the slave's breast
flared up and she bent what remained of her will on hurrying her
pace. Wherever she was commanded to go, this slave wanted
desperately to be there. Since the slave was hastening to obey her
instructions, the Obeyers permitted her to increase the pace of her
footsteps. While the other slaves went to their destination with
neither eagerness nor reluctance, this slave was all but rushing to
meet her fate.
(But why...) then Vergere saw. And understood.
She saw the ranks of Nesz vanishing into the water, saw the
pit of the dead. How many lay there? Two thousand? Three?
Of course, Sang Anor was abandoning his seed world so he
no longer had a use for the native slaves. He was killing them all.
And this slave wanted to die.
Of course she did: she still had part of an Eternal in her. If
she died before that energy faded, she would be released into the
Force to join the other Eternals.
Then the Nesz was stepping into the water, up to her knees,
her neck, then it covered her face. She hurried to the bottom,
where her dissipating mind knew underground streams refreshed
the pond.
Vergere felt raw terror then. She had been here too long!
She tried to pull away from the slave's mind, but before she could,
the Nesz inhaled water.
Her lungs, (Vergere's) lungs, flooded. Her chest was
exploding with the pressure, reflexively, the slave's body tried to
expel the water, but there was just too much. She, (they,)
couldn't breathe! Couldn't breathe!
Under the bubble-dome, Nesz gathered around Vergere's
writhing form.
Even as the reptilian body began to float up to the surface,
she finally succeeded in pulling away from the dying Nesz. She
floated away, beyond the blankness and into the Force, then-
"Free!" A thought-voice full of joy followed her. She
turned and saw the spirit-shape of the Eternal, once a slave, flew
into the Force. Weakened from her time with the Yuuzhan Vong,
she gathered life energy to replenish herself as she spun and
danced through the currents. "I'm free!" she vanished, to join the
other Eternals.
Vergere followed her own lifeline, and opened her eyes to
see Oin and Stent standing over her. She spoke.
"I know what to do."
*************************************************
"Attack?" Stent sputtered. "We'd be slaughtered!"
"It doesn't seem a wise move." Oin pronounced with more
calm.
"The Yuuzhan Vong are abandoning this planet," Vergere
pressed, "and a great battle will soon take place overhead between
the Imperials and the Yuuzhan Vong. It is important that Thrawn's
forces win that battle." She turned to Stent. "If the extragalactics
aren't stopped here, they will eventually conquer the Unknown
Regions, then possibly even the rest of the galaxy.
She looked to Oin. "And believe me, if Sang Anor is
victorious he will not simply take his forces and leave. He will
want to completely eradicate his presence on your world, and if
that means destroying all life that exists here, he will do so." She
folded her hands. "This is your chance to expel the invaders from
this planet for good."
"A convincing argument." Oin allowed.
"How many Nesz will join in the fight?" She asked.
Oin bowed his head. For a long moment he said nothing.
"Oin," she repeated, "I realize there are few Nesz you can
spare, but-"
The Nesz raised his head. "All of them."
Vergere blinked. "What?"
"All of them. Every Nesz on the planet will join you." He
faced Vergere, and the Jedi flinched away from what she sensed
from him.
"But the elderly, the children-"
"There aren't any left." Oin didn't look away. "The sick,
the weak, the injured, the ones who couldn't run fast enough or
fight hard enough died a long time ago." And nothing was left but
the durasteel-hard core of the Nesz race. "What is your plan?"
"We wait for the right moment, when the battle is joined
high above, then we strike. There is a focusing tower, a spire of
coral, near the center of the alien stronghold, Sang Anor plans to
draw the Imperial into battle near this world to bring them within
the tower's reach, where it will inflict heavy losses on Unity Fleet.
We can turn this trap against him, however."
"But we have less than a hundred blasters," Stent pointed
out, "all pistols and many that are underpowered. We can't take on
hundreds of Yuuzhan Vong like this."
"The base will be all but deserted during the fight."
Vergere countered. "Sang Anor will need every able-bodied
warrior to fly a coralskipper."
"What of the natural defenses?" Oin said. "The Yuuzhan
Vong have established restraining fields around the perimeter with
their dovin basals, and there are many hidden traps, living traps,
that neither you nor we can sense."
"I've thought of a way to bypass all that." Vergere stroked
her feathers in thought. "And once we're past the defenses, the
tower should be easily taken."
"So that?s your plan." Stent nodded. "We take this weapon
away from them."
"No." Vergere shook her head. "That is merely the first
part. Afterwards it really gets difficult..." She shook her head.
"But there's no point to counting your fledglings before your eggs
hatch. Now, we go over the first stage in detail." She looked
sharply at Stent. "And if we get through this alive, remember the
Nesz to Thrawn. I want him to know their part in his victory."
"I give you my word." Stent said, then they began to go
over the Jedi's strategy. Some parts of the plan sounded like the
purest insanity, and the Jedi had to summon an Eternal to assure
Stent that, yes, these things could indeed be done. The drifting,
insubstantial phantom who floated among the twisting water-
sculptures seemed to erase all doubts.
But the Eternals were meanwhile communicating certain
other plans directly into Oin's mind, without the Jedi being aware
of the fact.
"May the Force be with us." Oin whispered.
*******************************************************
"A good plan," Nom Anor was nodding, "you've thought of
almost everything."
"'Almost?'" Sang Anor raised a brow.
"The Jedi." Nom Anor hissed. "She is still out there."
"Prefect Ke'Nas assured me she could not have survived
the (Night of Fire's) bombardment." Sang Anor mused. For once
he was inclined to agree with him: he'd seen the scorched
wastelands surrounding the settlement. Even Jedi were still flesh
and blood.
"I survived." His son pointed out.
"You had a place to go." Sang Anor said. "Right here.
The Jedi has no shelter: there is nothing for hundred of miles but
rivers, ponds and lakes. Where could she hide?"
"That, I don't know." Nom Anor's eyes gleamed. "But she
has done the impossible before. She has shown up when and
where she was not wanted before. She has ruined our plans
before." He slowly circled his father. "What if she interferes? We
both know the damage she can do." He was walking behind the
Executor now.
"And your suggestion?" Sang Anor spoke lightly.
"Let me remain here." Nom Anor stood at his father's left
shoulder now, his voice low and intense. "You sent me here for
her, I have hunted her with little success, but now I will make the
Jedi come to me. When she strikes, I will be waiting." He leaned
close to whisper in Sang Anor's ear. "I can still get her for you,
Father."
The Executor slowly turned his head and met his son's
gaze. His eyes were so like his mother's when she'd found a
project that excited her. "So be it."
Nom Anor snapped his fists against his shoulders. "I won't
fail you again."
"What will you need?"
"A few Yuuzhan Vong, little more than a garrison force,
some of our creature-servants," he paused a moment, "and
subaltern Ceis Grasm."
Sang Anor smiled a little. "You mean the female you
returned with."
"She has been a great help." Nom Anor said quickly.
"But Domain Grasm and Domain Nas have long been
allies." Sang Anor said playfully. "This was why she was left here
when I took the worldship out of this system the first time." He
glanced back to the focus tower, where Ke'Nas and Ceis Grasm
were having a conversation of their own. Well, not exactly a
conversation: the Prefect was firing angry questions at her in a low
voice. He tried to remain outwardly calm, but Sang Anor could
tell he was enraged. Could barely stop himself from shouting and
jumping up and down in fact. Then, the subaltern abruptly spun
and began striding away, leaving the Prefect with his mouth
hanging open.
"That is hardly her fault." Nom Anor was saying. "And I
believe she has come to recognize the...ah...virtues, of Domain
Anor." He colored a little.
"Ahh," Sang Anor nodded his head slowly. "By the way,
when you arrived, before fresh clothing was found for you, I
noticed that you have a few fresh scars."
"The slaves are very fierce, father." Nom Anor bowed his
head.
"I'm certain they are," Sang Anor kept a straight face,
barely, "but those did not look like battle scars to me. They
seemed instead the sort of markings one acquires in...other
pursuits."
"I...ah," Nom Anor stammered.
"Enough." Sang Anor chuckled and clapped a hand on his
son's shoulder. He glanced at Ceis Grasm's retreating figure, then
back at Nom Anor. "Go on. I was young once, though it may be
hard for you to believe. I understand these things." He jerked his
head in the subaltern's direction.
"Yes Executor, thank you Executor," he stepped away,
bobbing his head quickly, then he was running after her.
Sang Anor shook his head and chuckled as he walked
toward the focusing tower.
********************************************
Looking out the transparasteel viewport in the conference
room, Captain Voss Parck saw all the might of the Empire
assembled.
Not literally, of course, but the majority of Unity Fleet had
gathered here. A hundred Star Destroyers, almost twice that
number of smaller battleships and strike cruisers, and wings of TIE
fighter swarming among them. He even saw the (Admonitor,)
whole and ready for revenge.
Even knowing what the enemy they would soon face was
capable of, he still felt an almost electric thrill of energy (zap)
through his veins on seeing the power Thrawn commanded openly
displayed.
Reluctantly, he turned from the view. Nine holographic
representations of the commanders were gathered around the
table. Thrawn stood on the central holopad, with Raine and Beyin
near at hand. Parck took his place at their side.
"Gentlemen," the Grand Admiral began, "in one day we
make our initial jump into the Sevac system. I trust by now you
have all reviewed the pertinent information regarding the enemy
and have passed the tactics we've devised to your crews and fighter
pilots."
"We're drilling them, sir." A Chiss captain said. Like the
rest of the alien Imperials, there was a grim cast to his features.
Parck had seen them walking the corridors of the (Imperator,)
silent, eyes staring straight ahead, as if fixed on some goal only
they could see. They no longer held the familiar, haughty air about
them that Parck had come to associate with Chiss. Now they
exhaled a quiet menace that warned one not to get too close to
them. The human crewers avoided the aliens as they would a pack
of Noghri under a blood-oath.
"The target system." Thrawn activated a console set into
the head of the table. As usual, the Grand Admiral was calm and
collected, the voice of reason and the strong, guiding hand, even
though Parck knew he was as furious as any of his Chiss followers.
A three-dimensional holographic map of the Sevac system
appeared floating over the table complete with planetary bodies,
the asteroid belt and hyperspace entry points.
"This map is in broad strokes," Thrawn went on, "there has
never been a detailed survey of the Sevac system, but the general
reports are accurate. From them, I was able to piece this chart
together. We are dealing with a system of eleven planets, all
undeveloped, at least by means we are familiar with." He added.
"Only one of these worlds, and two moons, are habitable, but we
will need to check all of them. The Yuuzhan Vong have held that
system for a long time.
"The fleet will enter here, after the initial scouting." A
pinpoint of red appeared on the rim of the star system, marking the
position of the entire fleet. Parck set his mouth in a grim line:
even with three hundred ships, this was still a lot of space to cover.
"The primary objective is the Yuuzhan Vong worldship, a
vessel comparable to the Death Star in scale. I expect we will
have no trouble locating it: the enemy challenged me himself. He
desires a decisive battle and thinks to destroy our ships, but we can
use this to our advantage. Sang Anor has been forced to bait his
trap with himself and his worldship, giving us our best opportunity
to end the Yuuzhan Vong threat.
"The fleet will be divided into ten attack groups, each one
composed of ten Star Destroyers and twice that number of smaller
vessels. This will provide flexibility for the fleet, but overall
coordination is an important factor as well. The (Imperator) will
lead the primary group, where I will issue directions to you."
Parck and the other nine commanders listened carefully.
"Once we jump insystem we will locate the worldship, but
we must approach and engage with caution. We will need to make
certain no enemies will be waiting to flank us from behind." He
deactivated the hologram turned his eyes to the three Chiss
commanders.
"One final point for your Chiss crewers." And now the
calm, businesslike voice became something else, something that
froze Parck's blood. "Remember what Sang Anor has done to
Homeworld. Hold that rage in your heart and draw strength from
it, but that hate must serve you, not the other way around. The
Yuuzhan Vong (will) be victorious if you or any of the Chiss
crewers under your command allow rage to cloud your judgement.
You are still Chiss, and will comport yourselves as such."
The commanders saluted and their holograms dissolved.
Thrawn turned to face Raine. "I suspect you wish to know how my
phalanx will be deployed."
"Correct, Syndic." The commander shifted her glowing
eyes to Thrawn. Her tone, like the Admiral's, was one of calm and
level.
"I believe attempting to mix Chiss and Imperial ships at
this early point would not be a wise move. The phalanx will act as
its own strike group, independent from Unity Fleet and under your
command. However, I am assigning General Beyin to the
(Sentinel) in an advisory position."
The commander narrowed her eyes slightly. For a moment,
Parck thought she would object, and object strongly. He had
reckoned, however, without the discipline drilled into the Chiss
military, which dictated that a phalanx commander would
(always) defer to a Syndic, at least in public.
"Yes, Syndic, but I very much doubt that an...advisor...is
necessary."
"Nevertheless, the General will accompany you back to the
(Sentinel.) You and my phalanx are both highly capable, but you
are quite unused to large-scale battles and offensive combat. I
understand you have been running several simulations which deal
with this sort of war for some time now, and have been training the
phalanx in those simulations," Parck saw her start a little on
hearing that, "but Beyin has hard-earned experienced in fighting
outside of Chiss space." He glanced at the General, "he will defer
to your decisions, but you will heed his advice. Is this
understood?" His tone clearly marked this as a deal-breaker: she
would agree or the phalanx would have no part in the assault, no
chance for revenge for Homeworld.
"I understand, lord." She cut her eyes to Beyin. "General, a
berth will await you on the (Sentinel.)" The elder Chiss merely
nodded. "I have one other matter to discuss with you, Syndic.
Since it has been announced that you now have a phalanx again, I
have been flooded with requests for enlistment from every
Imperial Chiss in Unity Fleet."
"Understandable, Commander." Thrawn paced slowly
around the table. "These men have abandoned their homes and
Houses to serve with the Empire. It is only natural they would
welcome an opportunity to become part of a legitimate House once
more."
"(Your) House." Only the slightest of inflections on the
first word.
"What other House do they have?" Thrawn merely
shrugged. "It will give them a chance to reclaim their identities as
Chiss."
"Lord, a number of," she stopped herself from saying
'savages,' "humans wish to join the phalanx as well."
"Really." The Grand Admiral remarked in an offhand
manner. "An interesting turn of events. I must look closer into
this when I have time. Thank you very much, Commander. You
are dismissed."
Parck had thought the female Chiss was angered before,
but by the flash of her glowing eyes it was nothing to the fury she
felt now. "Yes, Syndic." She turned on her heel and strode out the
door. The captain didn't know exactly what had happened just
now, but he sensed important matters swimming just under the
placid surface of that conversation.
"There are things I must see to as well, Admiral." Parck
ventured.
"Of course, Captain. Dismissed."
Parck gladly took his leave. He had no desire to become
involved in Chiss politics: he had enough problems organizing the
(Imperator) and the other ships that made up his strike force.
Of course, Thrawn not only had his own problems to deal
with, but those of the entire fleet as well. The captain's own
troubles were minuscule by comparison, so he resolved to handle
them as effectively as possible and look for more problems to
correct besides.
Thrawn's ability to inspire this kind of devotion in his
underlings was one of his greatest weapons.
***************************************************
"Syndic, I believe you're making a mistake." Was the first
thing out of Beyin's mouth after Parck had left the General and
Admiral alone.
"Concerning what, Beyin?" Thrawn completed his circuit
round the table and pulled out a chair, but did not sit down.
"In leaving that female in command of your phalanx." Now
that they were alone, custom allowed some show of emotion, so
the General put force behind his words.
"You have a problem with Commander Raine?" Thrawn
drummed his fingers against the back of the chair.
"Not a personal problem, sir, but it is scientific fact that
females are incapable of quick, logical thinking during times of
great stress, exactly when a commander most needs his wits about
him."
Thrawn turned a sharp glance on Beyin. "General that is
not 'science,' but the fruits of superstition and ignorance."
"Revisionist nonsense." The General responded. "The
female body is at the mercy of glands, hormones and chemical
imbalances that render them mentally and physically unfit for
military service."
"Ah," Thrawn sat down and regarded Beyin, "tell me,
General, does your wife share these views?" He asked casually.
"Perhaps I should bring them up when next she and I meet, if the
Families will that we win today, of course."
Beyin's eyes widened, and though Chiss couldn't turn pale,
the shade of his skin (did) turn rather sickly. "Well, eh, my Mejas
is merely the exception that proves the rule." He said quickly.
"But I still would never place a female in a command position,
especially one in the throws of grief."
Thrawn stiffened, ever so slightly. "Grief, General? What
do you mean by 'grief?'"
"I recognize the look, sir. I've seen it many times in
the past, every time I delivered my condolences to the widow of a
soldier who died in combat. Mark me, Commander Raine lost
someone during the attack on Homeworld, and she will be blinded
by emotion when we battle the Yuuzhan Vong."
Thrawn decided then and there not to mention Raine's
relationship with Vraet. Beyin would only call her ability into
question, and Thrawn's judgement.
"General, I said before that Raine had been preparing the
phalanx, when it had been Vraet's phalanx," his hand trembled
slightly on the armrest, but he stilled in a moment, "for warfare on
a grand scale. Do you know why?"
"No sir, I do not."
"She was preparing to fight Unity Fleet, Beyin. To fight
(us,) and she was convincing Vraet to press the rest of the Syndics
into war before I became too powerful to overcome."
The general's red eyes flashed. He strode to stand before
Thrawn. "Sir what you've told me is grounds to have her removed
here and now: this throws doubt over her loyalty!"
"You don't see the whole picture, Beyin." Thrawn shook
his head. "Look at these qualities: she is capable, brave, intelligent
and able to take both a broad and detailed view of events. And
yes, she is loyal. She is loyal to the Chiss, as we all are. She saw a
threat to the Chiss and immediately began working on a way to
counter it. This is an extraordinary officer we have, General, and a
valuable addition to our forces."
"But...she doesn't intend to remain in your service once the
battle is over."
"She will, Beyin." Thrawn replied. "I'm seeing to it."
"How?"
"The phalanx, General, will not be easy for her to leave.
She has made herself a place there, an identity. For years she has
worked to earn the trust and respect of those under her command,
and she has trained them to meet her own high standards. She
(made) that phalanx what it is today, and now she sees what she
has made threatened. You saw her reaction when we spoke of new
enlistments: the recruits from Unity Fleet will outnumber the
phalanx troops four to one.
"The outfit will be flooded with Chiss who have turned
their backs on their own Houses, Chiss with Imperial training, who
will remake the phalanx into an extension of Unity Fleet and
nothing more. And if that will pollute the phalanx, imagine what
humans joining would do. Will Raine allow it? Never." He stood
and paced, continuing in a calm yet implacable, ruthless voice.
"My home guard will bind her to us like a durasteel chain. The
Empire will benefit greatly."
And more importantly, Thrawn would not lose his last link
to his son.
"I still think you're mistaken." Beyin warned. "Only a fool
thinks he can accurately predict how a female will behave: they
themselves do not know what they will do from one moment to the
nest. I'm still going to keep a close watch on her."
"I wouldn't expect anything less of you."
Beyin looked satisfied for a moment and nodded, but as he
turned to go a troubled expression crossed his features. He looked
back at Thrawn.
"You're humoring me, aren't you?" He said. "You
predicted Raine's reaction. So you must have predicted mine as
well. You foresaw this conversation and had a counter ready for
every argument I made." He frowned. "Then, as a, what, a
consolation prize?-you place me on her ship to show that my
services are still valued."
"Yes." Thrawn crossed his arms. "And to give you an
opportunity to judge the commander's ability for yourself."
"Even after all that's happened, you're still manipulating all
of us like a child playing with his toys. Don't you ever stop?"
The Admiral frowned. "Not like a child and toys, Beyin.
Never like that."
"A craftsman using his tools then. Is that more
appropriate?" Even in this informal setting, Beyin didn't allow
anger to color his tone. They were Chiss, after all.
"No, still a bad analogy. A tool cannot think, General. A
tool cannot be left on its own to complete a task, or be trusted with
responsibilities. A tool cannot work toward the craftsman's goal
with the same dedication as the craftsman himself." He shook his
head. "I value everyone who serves under me, but yes: I do
manipulate them. I do so to bring out their best performance, and
in answer to your question, no: I don't ever stop. I can't stop, not
to rest, not to grieve, not to celebrate a victory, because there is
always one more challenge just over the horizon. One more enemy
to prepare for." Thrawn's mouth twitched, but he didn't look away.
"I have always considered you a friend, Beyin, and for what
it's worth I do regret having to manipulate you, but in all
likelihood I will continue to do so in the future. If this means I
forfeit that friendship, then so be it. I have already sacrificed more
than that in doing what I believe is right."
For a moment Beyin said nothing, then he sighed and shook
his head. "I understand. Families know I should: I'm a general
myself. I guess it was just difficult for me to face how far you've
come: I remember when you were just a young lordling sent to
learn from me. I remember (disciplining) you. Yes, every teacher
rejoices when his student surpasses him, but even then..." He
trailed off. "You're a giant, Thrawn, you're the kind of man who
(makes) history. Often, such giants tend to crush lesser folk
without even realizing it."
Thrawn thought over what the general had said. "I do what
I must," was the only answer he had.
