Chapter 17 – Knowledge
Belana Jen stared down at the Grand Admiral's corpse, her mind aflame with shock and outrage. She had not expected this. When Kell had claimed that Markhan would not come to enjoy his company she had assumed he would deal with him the same way he had dealt with Thrawn. But apparently he was losing his usual reluctance to kill without being provoked first. In addition to what had happened over the past weeks she believed that this confirmed what a fine line he was walking here, a very dangerous one.
"Why did you do that?" Yana Dar asked at last, once she had recovered from having witnessed the carnage that had cost Markhan and his guards their lives. She was very pale and at her side Mara Jade seemed about to sick up. Abla Othana, still seated at the computer screens, was deadly pale and wide-eyed. But Yana, truly her father's daughter, regained her composure fast and stalked over to where Kell was looking pensively at the body lying at his feet. "Why?" Yana demanded.
He turned his head ever so slightly, not quite meeting her eye. "This is what your future allies expect of you, Yana. To act without hesitation and mercy. They will not dare oppose you now, and the transition of power will come faster than if you had had to outmaneuver Markhan in secret."
"But you killed him, not I," she objected.
"Does it matter?" He gave her a mocking bow. "After all, I am at your service, my lady."
"What?" Taking a step back Yana gazed at him in bewilderment.
"Until this little affair is resolved I offer my advice to you. Perhaps you will make better use of it than your father did."
"Father?" Mara Jade inquired, her emerald eyes narrowing. "Wait a minute. What father?" She stared first at Yana, then at Kell. "You are Palpatine's daughter?" she finally asked, seeking Yana's blue gaze once more. The older woman nodded solemnly. "Oh, great!" the former Emperor's Hand exclaimed, disgusted. "You really have everything pegged down neatly, don't you, your lordship?" she continued. "Yana does not have the hundredst part of her father's potential, not the thousandst. So she will be easy to control. Is that not so?"
Belana was not the only one who shifted her attention back to the tall Sith standing amidst blood and gore. She shivered ever so slightly, haunted by memories. In front of her inner eye she could see him standing on a battle-field again, his presence burning with the aftermath of the killing, his enemies slaughtered and their remains scattered around him. He had never been a warrior in the same sense that she herself had been a warrior. His ideals were much different. To him there was no mercy toward an enemy. But then, it was very hard to become his enemy in the first place. Tious Markhan had apparently managed in record time.
Finally he deigned to answer, and to her surprise there was no mockery in his tone, only calm. "I have no desire to rule this Empire, or any other realm," he began, "My only goal is to reclaim what once permeated this entire galaxy." His face twisted in a sneer all of a sudden.
"Not peace, or harmony, but balance. Yana is one of a new generation of leaders, aware of the past and eager to begin anew. They are pioneers in more ways than politics and warfare. They have all learned from their forebears and they are willing to put that knowledge to use, unafraid of failure." A smile appeared on his lips. "A very long time ago I stood at that same crossroads, and although I chose the right path I made a great many mistakes down the road. I have learned from them. Just as you have learned from yours." Turning his head again he looked straight at Belana, who was facing him quietly, invisible to the others present. "Over more than three thousand years I have studied this galaxy. Three thousand years of acquiring knowledge and understanding, of following every strand of this infinitely complex web we call the Force. Over the past few years, though, I have moved beyond this complexity and found that it is, in fact, based on very simple principles. I will act on them." His face darkened once more. "It is up to you to make a difference now."
"Time remaining until re-entry is five minutes," Commander Sujar announced with a glance at the navigation controls.
"Very good." Seated again in the command chair of the Executor's bridge Grand Admiral Thrawn was staring straight ahead, at the forward screen, where very soon the image of Nirauan would appear. At least that was what they all hoped. "Red alert for the entire crew. Keep the TIE fighters ready for launch. Our weapons status?"
"90 percent. Shields hundred percent."
"Excellent. You will establish a comm channel to the base as soon as we are within reach."
"Yes, sir."
Making himself relax a fraction Thrawn could not shed the frown that marred his forehead. They had tried hailing Nirauan from hyperspace, but had received no response. With the way things had been when the Executor had left the system that could mean that the base had been destroyed. It could, of course, also mean that someone had cut all comm channels to the base on purpose. But for what reason he did not know. Yet.
"Prepare for re-entry," Sujar announced calmly and a few moments later the Super Star Destroyer slowed, and with a barely perceptible lurch entered realspace once more. What greeted them at first sight was chaos. Space around Nirauan was littered with mines and narrow corridors led to the various jump-points. Two Star Destroyers were visible hovering above Nirauan and Thrawn assumed that four more were spread around the globe. Sentinels. As he studied the layout of Nirauan's defenses more closely the Grand Admiral smiled. Apparently Captain Palleon had made the most of his assets.
"Sir, the Chimaera is hailing us."
"Then put the Captain on, please."
Almost instantly the familiar voice of Gilead Palleon boomed over the bridge speakers. "Welcome back!"
There was relieved laughter all around, a reminder of how fresh each officer was to his post on the bridge. They needed to learn discipline fast. "Captain, please report," Thrawn answered smoothly, ignoring the embarrassed silence that spread over the crew all of a sudden.
"We have lost the perimeter defense posts to the enemy. I assume they were hit first, before the enemy fleet came to Nirauan. Master Chi'in has gone missing in action on a recon mission to the outposts, and Luke Skywalker and Nuron Sarin are assisting Syndic Ech'an'dana's fleet as scouts. My latest information is that they will accompany Commander Al'than'erudo on a scout mission into the Lieman Corridor, where Ech'an'dana believes the attackers to be hiding."
"Syndic Ech'an'dana is in command of the Shooting Star, then?"
"Yes, sir. Syndic Bal'maw'narda requests you to get into contact with him immediately upon your arrival at the base."
That was indeed news. Not that the Chiss had reacted to the invasion, but that Bal'maw'narda was willing to confer with an outcast, a traitor. Perhaps they had at last realized that all of his work within and without the Empire had had the sole goal of securing his people's future. It took him some time to digest this, but then he asked:
"What about Admiral Parck? Any news from him?"
"None, sir. His ship does not answer our hailings at all."
"That is because the comm channels are jammed," Thrawn explained. "Nothing gets out or into Nirauan. But I am pleased to hear that communication with Almashin is still possible."
"Jammed?"
"Yes. I have received a report from Lord Skywalker that contained interesting information on the Empire. With any luck there will be a change of command soon. Admiral Parck was to assist in bringing that change about."
"So, if he has failed we will not know at all," Palleon mused aloud.
"Yes." Clicking his teeth together Thrawn gazed into the distance. "Grave news all around. I see you have secured the base as ordered. Excellent work, Captain. But I fear the Executor is too large to fit through any of these corridors."
"If you would take a shuttle down I will send an escort up to guide you in."
"Yes. I think I will do that. But first I want you to provide the Executor herself with an escort."
"Of course. I will inform you once everything is prepared."
"Yes. Thank you." Disconnecting the call Thrawn rose and nodded at his second. "Commander, a word with you." They walked a bit further down the bridge, out of the crew's earshot. "You understand why I ordered the escort for this ship?"
"Yes, sir," Sujar answered calmly. "You do not trust my command in case of a surprise attack. Therefore the ship needs extra protection during your absence."
"Very good. And can you also tell me why I gave that order myself?"
"To show the crew that you do indeed believe we need a babysitter?"
Thrawn smiled thinly. "Well done, Commander. Under different circumstances I would welcome the chance to train a new command crew, but not at a time like this. Therefore you will all be relocated to other ships to train there with the bridge crews. You, Commander, will stay here, with me, but not as my second."
Sujar nodded at him, his eyes never leaving those of the Grand Admiral. "I appreciate that chance, Grand Admiral, and I will do my best to learn fast."
"Thank you. That would be all for now."
Standing to attention like the rest of his team Captain Palleon was fairly beaming as the Grand Admiral's shuttle touched down. The Chiss stalked down the landing ramp swiftly, his white uniform gleaming in the artificial lights of the hangar. He gave the Captain a curt nod before he strode deeper into the fortress, with Palleon hurrying to catch up with him.
"Captain, I need a new bridge crew. You will file a report with suitable personnel within the hour. Only experienced officers."
As if they had any other out here. "Of course."
"Excellent. Should Admiral Parck return against all expectations I shall reprimand him severely for leaving the base without a commander. Do not get me wrong, Captain, I am very pleased with the work you have done here, but in case of a renewed attack you would have been burdened with coordinating both your fleet and the ground defenses."
"With permission, sir, he thought it best to secure the Empire's support in our struggle."
"And he was a fool for assuming that they would help at all. The risk was far too great. He talked to me about his misgivings about our survival in the future and made the same suggestion to me."
"I know. He told us."
"All of you agreed? Even Master Chi'in?" Thrawn asked coolly as he stepped into the communications center.
"Chi'in did also approve."
"Maybe I was assuming too much. It could well be that Master Chi'in's recent visit on Almashin had the sole purpose of drawing the Syndics' attention to Nirauan. Which would explain Ech'an'dana's swift response."
Palleon nodded his agreement. It sounded right, somehow. But Voss Parck had not mentioned that reason during that last meeting with him, before he had left for Byss. which meant that he would probably still be reprimanded. All credit went to the Noghri. Again he felt regret for having lost that asset, and he hoped that Skywalker and Sarin would find the Sith Lord again.
"Chi'in will not reveal anything about our defenses to our enemies," Thrawn said suddenly, anticipating the Captain's thoughts with ease. Looking up into the Grand Admiral's glowing eyes Palleon smiled.
"No. you are right. I rather expect he is just now trying to gather intelligence to get back to us." Noticing the expectant and mildly disapproving look on Thrawn's face he realized that they had reached the hypercomm unit. "I will leave you to your meeting with Syndic Bal'maw'narda and prepare my report," he murmured and turned around to retreat from the room once more. If the Council on Almashin really was serious about cooperating with Thrawn, perhaps granting him sole command of the entire Chiss forces, those invaders would soon be history. Smiling to himself in satisfaction the Captain quickened his pace ever so slightly. Things really did look better now that the Grand Admiral was back.
It was called the Embrace of Pain and it really did deserve that title. As Fahl Dan had explained to him it was an instrument of reverence, of prayer. The Yuuzhan Vong warrior had indulged his prisoner freely when Chi'in had asked what glory the Yuuzhan Vong sought in the Unknown Regions, and now, with his body locked tight in what had to be incredible pain by any standard, the Noghri had found the clear focus to meditate on the meaning of faith. He knew what he did believe in, the power of life, the values of simplicity and truth. There was no need to examine his feelings on that subject further. Yet he found the belief the Yuuzhan Vong followed intriguing.
Fahl Dan had described to him how the gods had created the universe by sacrificing parts of themselves. They had endured great agony to give birth to the world, or so the story went, and therefore pain and sacrifice were the means to enlightenment. A savage belief. And yet Chi'in could not understand what exactly that belief had to do with the Yuuzhan Vong's coming here. To teach the so-called infidels the mysteries of their gods? No. Fahl Dan had already revealed the true reason. The one that was inherent of all conquerors. Glory and power.
In a state of utter concentration that transcended every physical border Chi'in felt strangely disappointed at the fact that their motives were so mundane. He had faced the Dark Side, which seemed reminiscent in some ways of what the Yuuzhan Vong believed in, a fervent order too, but he knew in his heart that this darkness was a hollow power. It always demanded more. Greater pain, greater sacrifices. Fahl Dan had told him that no Yuuzhan Vong was afraid to die, that death was seen as the release from all suffering in life. Which was very true, if life were defined by the standards of the Yuuzhan Vong.
"You must truly have achieved enlightenment." Fahl Dan's voice held a touch of awe and only now did the Noghri realize that he was smiling. The revelation brought him quickly out of his trance and he gave a soft groan as the pain slammed back into his awareness again. He was lying on the deck of what he now knew was a ship, Looking up at the warrior looming over him he frowned.
"Enlightenment? I found nothing that I did not know beforehand."
"Our war coordinator is awaiting your arrival eagerly. He is intrigued by your resistance to our every effort at gaining information from you."
It was, perhaps, meant as praise, but Chi'in did not feel pride in what Fahl Dan obviously saw as a great accomplisment. In fact, the respect he could see in the warrior's eyes was sickening him. He did not understand what could possibly make a people hold a belief such as this one, and still survive. Were they producing their off-spring only in regards of increasing the sacrifices for their gods? And if they did judge themselves by the standards of said gods, why did they not realize that what the gods had sacrificed themselves for was life, not death? This was a riddle far beyond his abilities to solve at the moment, Chi'in knew. He lacked the right information. But that could be changed easily.
Sitting up he folded his hands in his lap in meditation, seeking again the calm focus of his mind, just for a moment, to gather his strength again. Finally he rose to his feet unsteadily and nodded at Fahl Dan. "I will meet with your war coordinator and he will learn the truth from me."
The Yuuzhan Vong stared at him in what the Noghri thought was disbelief. "You will surrender?"
Meeting the warrior's gaze Chi'in considered explaining to his opponent that he intended to tell this war coordinator the truth about having faith in darkness. Yet then he realized that the other would not understand. He shook his head ever so slightly, but said nothing; being aware of something was not the same as accepting or rejecting it. It all depended on one's point of view, but when all was said and done everything became a matter of survival. He smiled at the irony of his situation, that had led him to share the views of someone he perceived as incredible self-righteous and ignorant. An yet, there was a grain of truth to the ancient Sith Lord's philosophy. No matter what people did believe in, they were always and forever bound by the rules of survival, whether this meant them as individual, or their entire race.
The Chiss Stealth Cruiser Mahsenda dropped out of hyperspace with her sister ships just a few clicks away, spread out in a loose, wide circle. They had spent the past days on their voyage back into the Lieman Corridor, a recon mission under the command of Al'than'erudo. Standing next to the Chiss on the ship's bridge Luke gazed out at the blue planet before them.
"Kynda'bey," Commander Al'than'erudo breathed. "Our first target." Turning his head toward Luke he gave the young Jedi a cold smile. "You have done well in the simulations, Master Skywalker. Did you enjoy flying the scout craft?"
"They are certainly full of surprises."
A soft laugh drew his attention to the woman standing next to him. Nuron had regained her good humor again after Al'than'erudo had officially apologized to her for the hostile welcome he had given her back aboard the Shooting Star. "They are magnificent!" she exclaimed and threw the Chiss a wide grin. She had beaten both Luke and the commander several times during the sim runs, her piloting much more reckless than even Luke's.
"That they are," Al'than'erudo agreed. "Our vanguard has tracked the attackers into this sector. Therefore we will have to be very careful. The two of you will be flying under my direct command. We have two hours before the ship-wide launch."
"Thank you, Commander. We will be ready," Nuron told him, then hooked her arm around Luke's elbow and drew him off the bridge.
"Why are you suddenly so friendly with him?" Luke asked, feeling just a little bit angry and a little bit foolish. She gave him a long look. Then she said:
"He is an adept commander and now that he has admitted his error concerning my abilities there is no reason for slighting him."
"Yes, sure, but – don't you think it strange that – "
"Luke," she interrupted him gently, "we have been through this before, remember? Right after the meeting with Syndic Ech'an'dana. You have no reason to be jealous. I love only you. Don't you believe me?" Now she sounded outraged and Luke hastily moved to ease her mind.
"Of course I believe you! It is just that he is trying too hard to make this up to you."
"And you think I am not worth it?" she challenged him quietly.
"What? Of course you are worth it!"
The sudden smile that appeared on her lips was warm and gentle and she reached up to caress his face tenderly. "Sometimes a woman does enjoy being the focus of male attention. Forgive me if I am giving you reason to worry."
He understood abruptly. On Korriban Nuron had been a warrior, she had been living only for the Sith order. But then she had met Luke and had fallen in love with him. His affection was something new, different from the friendship she shared with Chi'in. Now she was learning that she was not only a warrior, but also a woman. For some reason Luke felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. She always managed to put him off guard, and in a way he loved exactly that. In the deepest depth of his heart he knew that her love was true, and that he had no right to doubt her committment to him. And yet she seemed to have acquired a taste for playing with him, making him feel uncertain. At that moment he wondered hard whether Han made as much trouble for Leia.
Having just finished her report on what they had found on Ryloth Padmé gazed at the others expectantly. Leia was seated across from her, with Telmann Page at her side, and the two of them shared a troubled glance with Mon Mothma, who presided over the meeting.
"The question is what to do with this," Anakin, who had taken his place next to his wife, said at last. "Cesh, what do you think will happen if we make this public? I mean, what will happen on Ryloth?"
The Twi'lek agent shrugged. "Nothing, I suppose. I don' think the Empire will encourage anyone in taking too great an interest. They will keep their heads low."
"I thought so."
"On the other hand," Mon Mothma injected, "we can prove that the Empire is not true to its claim. They will have to respond in any case. If Tious Markhan is still in power my best guess is that he will attack us, to save his face. If Yana is in charge ... I am not certain. She might just tell us to go ahead and resolve this problem, abandoning Commander Antham altogether."
"Which might result in even bigger trouble for Ryloth," Telmann Page finished for her. "I don't know this Antham, but he could decide that he has nothing left to lose if the Empire turns its back on him and his troops."
"The question rather is, can we intercede at all?" Leia spoke quietly, her hands folded in front of her. She met the disbelieving glances of the assembly calmly. "You see, if we assume the role of Ryloth's savior we will certainly win sympathies, and we will be expected to do more. Maybe more than we can do. If we attack Antham and liberate Ryloth by force there is no telling where we might end. We might find ourselves fighting exactly the war we have been trying to avoid so far."
"What do you propose instead?" Mon Mothma asked.
"Mother, of all of us you have perhaps the greatest insight into the current state of affairs on Ryloth. What do you suggest?"
Padmé heaved a deep sigh and sought reassurance with her husband, who gave her an encouraging smile and a nod. Then she said: "Perhaps we should, just this one time, have faith in Lord Kell's plan."
"What!" Half-rising from his seat Page glared at her. "You can't be serious!"
"I am. Think about it. The Twi'lek have every opportunity now to stand up to their oppressors. If Yana abandons Antham the Twi'lek can put pressure on him. Contrary to you, General, I have met the man. He is following orders, just that. If he does not receive any other order he will retreat, to gain new ones. In fact, Tious Markhan has provided us with the perfect psychological weapon. The example he made of General Zi'Assime on Yaga Minor has certainly convinced any Imperial commander that independent action will not be rewarded."
Her daughter gave a delighted laugh. "You are right!" Suddenly her mirth subsided again. "What if Markhan is in command and orders an all-out attack?"
"Then he will certainly have more important targets for Commander Antham than Ryloth. Besides, the ensuing turmoil would be another opportunity for the Twi'lek to overcome the troopers."
"Brilliant," Mon Mothma conceded with a smile, that made Padmé beam with pride. It felt so very good to be back in business again, to finally be doing something that was also having effects. But her husband did not seem to share the overall view.
"That is all very well, but you are forgetting one thing: we are aware of the facts. The Twi'lek are not."
Padmé gave him a wide-eyed glance. "What should we do then?" she asked, angry at herself for not having considered this problem beforehand.
"I believe we should take up Joral on his offer. Establish a base there, infiltrate Ryloth again and inform what rebels there may still be. Cesh, are you up to it?"
The Twi'lek gave him a sick smile. "I guess I owe it to my people."
"You won't be alone. Since Padmé has been to Ryloth she should also be the one to contact Joral." He noticed her face twisting in disgust and smiled. "Forgive me, my love, but you are the best we can afford right now. And you won't be alone. Han will accompany you."
"Why Han?" Leia asked suspiciously.
"Because, while Padmé confers with the more illustre elite of Nal Hutta, he can talk to the less illustre members. I have a message I need delivered, and Han qualifies perfectly for that job."
"A message? What message?" the President demanded, but the Dark Lord ignored her.
He was looking straight at Padmé, and she suddenly thought back on what she had discussed both with him and Leia just yesterday. Her plan. But why did it have to be her who did all the dirty work? The answer was simple: because Anakin could not risk another breach of Mon Mothma's authority. After all, the President had made it clear that she wanted him to be at his best behavior until this mess was resolved somehow. In her last meeting with him, also yesterday, Mothma had insisted that he not keep any secrets from her, a promise he had broken already by withholding the truth about Andarack's allegiances.
"I believe it is worth a try," Padmé said at last, her eyes still locked with Anakin's. Finally she tore her gaze away to smile at her daughter. "I will take good care of Han, do not worry."
"Nal Hutta? Is she mad?"
Leia patted the Corellian's chest affectionately and raised her eyebrows. "I thought you would never think anything bad of my mother."
"I don't! But going to see the Hutt ... I just don't think it's the smart thing to do."
"Perhaps it isn't smart, but Father believes it is right."
Han shrugged and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. "You know, I am just wondering why he wants to get rid of me so fast after I spent weeks running around half the galaxy to get you back. It isn't fair."
"But you are the one with the connections we need," Leia reasoned. "You are going to meet with Karrde and –"
"Boba Fett, yeah. Great," Han huffed indignantly. "As if your father's word would not have more weight of authority with the bounty-hunters."
"He can't leave for Nal Hutta now, in case Thrawn calls upon us for assistance. Besides, the plan is to confront everyone with hard facts. Therefore we need to have this operation in place by the time we hold the convention Mon Mothma is planning."
He threw his hands up in disgust. "You know, what I really don't like about your father is that he cannot just let destiny run its way. He always has to arrange matters beforehand." He noticed the amused smile on Leia's lips and hurriedly corrected hismelf, sweat beading his brow. "I mean – er – not that he had anything to do with you and me, that surely was destiny."
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Han, I understand your resentment, but both of us have a duty to fulfil. I am Minister of State to the New Republic, and you are now officially on the NRI's payroll."
He winced at that. When Page had told him that he would not be allowed to accompany the Senior Analyst for Internal Affairs to Nal Hutta without official standing Han had almost backed out of his promise to go with Padmé. He did not like being part of any offical thing, it was just that he felt restricted by all those titles and regulations that came with the package.
"Yeah, sure, but it is not as if we –"
She placed a finger on his lips, the smile still in place, but he understood the warning and kept silent. The mission to Nal Hutta was a double-edged sword, with an official and unofficial part to it. Officially Padmé would try to convince Joral to help them infiltrate Ryloth again, but inofficially she would discuss a very different deal with the Hutt. One she needed Han's assistance for. The Dark Lord had plans for the future and one aspect of them was an independent council of members of all different governments, that would keep watch over everyone. Han had first sneered at the idea and asked how the council could ever be taken seriously, without any power at all. They could just sit pretty on Coruscant while everyone ignored their advice. But he had forgotten about his future father-in-law's shrewdness in terms of warfare. Knowledge and information were the means to true control, he had told Han, and for exactly that they needed Karrde, and the bounty-hunters. And Leia was going to Bilbringi to prepare the convention along with Piett, a convention that would change the galaxy forever, if it ever came to be.
Abla entered the tiny cell timidly, fearing what might await him there. The man looking at him out of swollen eyes gave him a long, hard look. He did not make any move, just watched the agent walk toward him. When Abla stopped two steps away both kept silent for a while. He could see that the other was hurting, the pain in his eyes was undisguised, even though his stony expression did betray nothing. What Markhan had had done to him to get him to tell him anything Abla did not even want to know.
"You are back," Franzis Sarreti said at last, his voice hoarse. "That means that you have succeeded; or else that you have betrayed the plan."
"I did not betray anything."
The lieutenant exhaled in relief, but his eyes never changed. "Well," he began, "I cannot say the same of myself." Averting his gaze he seemed very pensive. "I betrayed your trust."
Abla cautiously lay a hand on the other's shoulder. "It doesn't matter," he explained. "It is over now."
Raising his head ever so slightly Sarreti let out a soft laugh, and his smile cracked the blood that had dried on his face, making it look as if he were wearing a mask of sorts. "No, my friend. It has only just begun."
Abla grinned down at the man, sharing his joy. Over the past years Sarreti had taken the highest risks of the three of them to turn this plan into a success. To him their victory must be even more elating than what Abla felt. "Come," he told him heartily. "Let's get you out of here."
"I'll need some assistance," Sarreti explained slowly. Clasping his hand Abla carefully helped him rise, but he could sense the other wince at every move he made. "Wait," the injured man panted, his forehead suddenly glistening with sweat.
"You are in no shape to walk. I'll get some medics," the slicer stated with a frown. "Will you be okay on your own for a while longer?"
"Certainly," the lieutenant assured him as he sank back on his bunk gratefully. "There was a message I was expecting..." he trailed off when he saw Abla's expression.
"From the Hutt?" So Joral had been in with Sarreti all along. Clenching his right hand into a fist the slicer scolded himself for never having seen through that game before. He understood, of course, that Sarreti had not wanted him to know too much, out of precaution, but his ignorance might have cost them, had Abla decided that ending Joral's interference would have benefitted them more. "There was a message, yes. But you had better ask our Sith Lord about it. He can give you all the details."
"He came from Ryloth, didn't he?"
"Yes. Didn't Joral report that to you?"
"We ceased communicating after the situation on Nar Shadaa was resolved. It was safer that way for you. I expected someone else to be on Ryloth. But I have lost contact with him." Staring into the distance the lieutenant fell silent once more.
"Another agent?" There was no answer. Abla gave Sarreti a sharp nod, but frowned at the others pained expression. "I guess explanations can wait. I will get someone to help you. And then we will make you a bit more presentable for your meeting with Yana Dar."
"That won't be necessary," a soft voice told him and he could feel her breath on his cheek. Turning his head he gave her a surprised glance.
"For how long have you been standing there?" So that had been the reason for Sarreti's sudden silence. Yana's blue eyes were fixed on the lieutenant, but when she spoke she was talking to Abla.
"If I were you I would not trust him. He has been keeping vital information from you, that might have endangered the plan. He is keeping more secrets. I can sense it."
Glancing back at Sarreti Abla frowned deeply. "What do you mean?"
"Irek." Her voice was very hard, matching the look in her eyes. "I am wondering why my brother is still alive."
"What?" His surprise was heart-felt. Hadn't she told him just a day ago that she would not
want her brother harmed?"
She gazed at him calmly, her features unreadable. "Think about it. It was your task to bring me here, the lieutenant's task to get Markhan out of the way, and Erinin's to protect Irek. Irek is still alive, so Erinin must have been ignorant of my father's plans for me and my brother. Who, may I ask, was to get rid of Irek?"
"Andarack!"
The shadow stilled, melding into the darkness that permeated the entire hangar bay. But Anakin had been expecting this. With a flick of his hand he reactivated the hangar's lighting and as the rows of glowrods sprung to life he walked closer to the Noghri standing next to the ship that had brought Padmé and her team back from Ryloth.
"My lord," the Noghri warrior greeted him, holding his head high, obviously poised for flight or attack, whichever might become necessary. One clawed hand slipped underneath his gray tunic, yet the Dark Lord ignored the threat of a simple weapon, and instead focused on what he could perceive through the Force.
"I have given alarm," Anakin explained calmly. "There are soldiers already on their way to meet us. I would ask you to surrender."
"I believed you wanted to keep my allegiance a secret?"
"My trust, Andarack, is not easily gain. You lied to me before."
"I served your mate during her mission to Ryloth," the Noghri reasoned calmly. "Did that not earn your trust?"
"It earned gratitude, no more. You also submitted yourself to my judgement and I asked you to stay here, to see what you would do if I confined you to Coruscant. Your leaving now tells me that your noble offering simply was another lie meant to appease me."
"You are stalling for time, my lord, and I have no time to lose."
"Where are you going?"
"Someplace."
Taking another step forward the Dark Lord hefted his lightsaber in a two-handed grip and ignited the blade. "You will stay or die, Andarack clan Rim'kai."
"I will do neither." The Noghri's hand came out from underneath his tunic in one smooth movement and a dagger came flying at Anakin at impossible speed. It stopped in mid-flight, halted by the Force, but another was already following the first. And another, and another. Anakin frowned. In the end six knives were forming a loose net in front of him, separating him from Andarack. He could not charge at the warrior without running around the knives, which would cost him precious time, and if he simply released the daggers – looking into the Noghri's black eyes he knew that that would possibly be the fastest way for him to die.
"Please, I would not want to hurt you unnecessarily," Andarack explained. "Don't make me hurt you."
Anakin glared at him. "What are you going to do?"
"I will eliminate a threat." Taking a step back Andarack turned away toward the ship's entry hatch.
"What threat?" the Dark Lord called after him.
"His name is Irek Ismaren," the Noghri replied, without looking around. "He needs to be eliminated."
"No! Andarack! I order you to stay!"
This time the warrior did spare him a glance and it was full of sorrow. "I cannot," he said softly, before he punched in the last numbers of the ship's code.
Making his decision Anakin held his lightsaber blade in front of his chest, in preparation for a wide slash that would take care of at least three of the knives. At the same time he formed a
shield of air that would offer additional protection. Then he lunged forward, simultaneously movig the shield and losing his grip on the knives. They clattered to the deck obediently and just as the Dark Lord dropped the shield to swing his lightsaber at the Noghri's back a blinding light filled his eyes, startling him. He threw an arm across his eyes instinctively and for a moment his concentration faltered. The swooshing sound of a knife coming at his back was his sole warning before it pierced his skin, sliding into his flesh with ease. The second dagger was deflected by his blade as he found his focus again and let the Force guide his arms, but by the time his vision had cleared and the last knife sheared into half, Andarack had already sealed the ship's hatch behind him.
The engines roared to life and Anakin had only seconds to find cover before the small yacht blasted out of the hangar. Immediately a flight of TIEs and X-wings took up the pursuit. It was dangerous to let the fighters chase a ship inside the planet's atmosphere and above the city, but Anakin did not want to take the risk of Andarack escaping in open space. Watching the ships dance around one another he was transfixed for a moment, wishing he could be up with them, but then his eyes fell on the single X-wing that had previously been hidden from view by the larger ship. With agonizing abruptness something in his back was twisted around and he dropped to his knees, crying out loud in pain.
"I am sorry," Andarack's voice said from behind him, and he could feel the Noghri's cool skin brush against the base of his neck. "You will fall unconscious soon, but your men are almost here. They will help you."
"Why?"
"Because I have my orders. The boy has failed his test aboard the Executor, therefore he will die."
"He is just a boy," Anakin heard himself say. "There is still a chance for him."
"That is not mine to decide, my lord." The blade withdrew with a wet, sucking sound and as Anakin fell face-down to the deck he could just make out Andarack's slim form hurrying toward the X-wing.
"Hold right there!" a voice shouted suddenly and the clatter of boots on the polished deck filled the hangar with the staccato sound of hard rain on metal. "Open fire!" the same voice orderd when the Noghri made no move to comply. But by then the sleek starfighter was already moving out of the hangar's confinements. "Give alarm! Lord Skywalker! Can you hear me?"
Anakin said nothing. Closing his eyes he held back a sudden wave of despair. From the Grand Admiral's report that Needa had relayed to him he knew that Irek was bordering on
the verge of madness, but he also remembered himself when he had first embraced the Dark Side. It had made bearing the grief and suffering sweeter, had eased his fears and turned them into powerful anger. What was Irek so afraid of? What had he lost that it hurt him so? With every time he touched the Dark Side the sweetness would grow more addictive, the anger stronger. Very soon power would be all he would crave, not the comfort and solace the darkness seemed to offer. Roganda. He needed to talk to Roganda. She would know –
Exhaling slowly he let out his anxiety and fury. Andarack had played him for a fool, and he had been stupid enough to enter the game instead of simply eliminating that threat. He should have killed him the moment he had admitted the first lie. No matter who he was loyal to, no matter that he had aided Yana and saved Padmé's life. He had to remember that sometimes one could not afford to leave an enemy alive. With startling clarity the promise he had made to Padmé burned in his mind. But Roj Kell would have to wait a little while longer.
Following Kell hesitantly deeper into the citadel on Byss Belana kept a close watch over him. She had not forgotten what he had told her back on the ship, and she could not shed the visions that were haunting her. From what Yana had revealed about her brother she could well guess at what Palpatine had tried to accomplish through Irek. Although she did not know much about the late Emperor the Jedi Master had heard enough to determine that he had been immensely powerful and a cunning manipulator. Through Irek he had sought to become immortal.
Shaking off those dark thought's Belana focused on the present once more. And on Kell. Together they entered a narrow hallway, with blank metal walls to either side. He stopped in front of a heavy blast door and Belana could see true anger in his eyes. It frightened her. She had never known him to take anything personal; he viewed everything that happened to him dispassionately, except for her love, maybe. The one thing he pursued with something close to obsession was his belief in the Force. Which was why his feelings concerning Palpatine consisted mainly of open hatred and indignation. Whatever he had taught his last student the late Emepror had twisted to his own advantage.
Laying a cautioning hand on his shoulder the Jedi Master steadied herself against him as she caught up. Even after having been a specter for what seemed an eternity she had still not shed the habits of her mortal self. And it felt good to have that physical connection. "What is behind that door?" she asked quietly.
"You heard Yana."
"But I want to hear it from you," she explained softly.
He gave a non-committal grunt, but did not meet her eyes as he opened the door by frying the lock in a shower of sparks. Beyond lay what looked at first sight to be a medical facility. In its midst a massive chair had been set into the floor. Manacles potruded from its slick metal surface and the head-rest was a mass of cables and wires. Belana swallowed slowly.
"Yana said he somehow managed to flash-print your memory..." she whispered aloud. So that was why he was so furious. There were two things Kell could not cope with: losing his freedom and losing his knowledge.
"That was only the second choice," Kell told her harshly as he strode toward the chair. "His original intent was to enslave my will. The technology in this room was copied from an alien race, the Ssi-Ruuk. They use life energy to power their ships and machines. Through an apparatus such as this one they gain control over the minds of their victims."
"You have met them?" It was not really a question. Looking over his shoulder at her Kell gave her a curt nod. "Then you knew this technology might become a danger to you," she reasoned and frowned at the very thought. "How did you manage to resist? You never liked machines much."
"I have protection," he answered softly, his left hand caressing the chair gently. "Do you think I should have eliminated a threat that might have become a danger in the distant future?"
"Well, you did just recently kill a lot of people because of a future threat."
"And don't you think it hurt me to do exactly that?" he whispered, meeting her questioning glance. "Don't you understand that this is exactly the reason for me to shield my emotions, my mind, to be able to do what needs to be done?"
"You never seemed reluctant to give or receive pain when it suited your purposes," Belana told him, remembering all too vividly her first lesson at his hands.
He blinked heavy eyelids at her, apparently deep in thought. Finally he gave a nod. "When I was young I did not mind the hurt. I cherished it because I felt it was part of myself, part of my duty." Pursing his lips he frowned. "Then I discovered that I could use it to my advantage, could use people's fears in my favor, but I could only do so while keeping my own emotions in check."
"No rules," the Jedi Master said quietly. "You always told me that the rules don't apply to you. But they do, don't they? That was why you did not destroy the Ssi-Ruuk when you discovered the threat they posed, why you mourned the demise of the Sith even though they had become your enemies."
Kell gave her a sly smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "Those rules were enforced on me when I became Cor'dan. I always had to learn the hard way, until the point where understanding exceeded knowledge and the balance of power tipped in my favor. That was when I turned to the Dark Side."
Belana had always wondered why he had become such a great believer in control over oneself and others. Now she thought she understood. It seemed that during the training
the Cor'dan went through different stages. He had never cared to explain those to her, and she knew he never would, because it was something sacred to him. Things were clearer now.
"You never used it the way Palpatine did."
"I might have, had my power not been limited. I was fascinated by power. And yet, after the second war had ended I realized that all the power the Dark Side could give me was nothing compared to what power I already had. That was why I left my master. That is control, Belana, when knowledge and understanding govern raw force. That is the meaning of being Cor'dan." He closed his eyes in dismay: "But I did crave that power, " he whispered. "I craved it very much."
"You have accepted your duty once more," Belana reasoned, then glanced at the machinery again, feeling uneasy. "So what are we doing here? If you truly feel that you are ready for the last step you must have forgiven Palpatine for what he did to you."
"Forgiven him?" His face darkened. "No. He has paid the price for his crimes, but he has not earned absolution. What he tried to accomplish here would have violated everything I believe in. I could not let that happen, let alone forget his hand in it."
"What about your son? Will you let him pay for the crimes of his creator?" She felt helpless rage, knowing very well that her lover viewed life much differently than she did.
"Irek is an abomination," he declared, making her wince at his tone. "I cannot accept this thing as something truly alive, truly grown. It was created for a specific purpose, to humiliate me and ridicule my beliefs. My dear student always liked his revenge to be up close and personal. I would not have expected anything less."
Belana was silent for a long while, not knowing what to say. All he saw in Irek was a mockery of his very existence, of everything he had ever fought for. He believed that Palpatine had let Irek become what he was today only to spite his old master. In a sense Irek was exactly the weapon Kell would have been had Palpatine succeeded in taking over his will. No wonder he was so mad. She remembered very well his obsession with lecturing others on his point of view, how contemptuous he had been of others. To find his own beliefs twisted with such off-hand and purposeful ignorance was the ultimate insult to him.
A year ago Kell had manipulated Anakin Skywalker into a position that had forced the Dark Lord to stand up to his master and defeat him. Kell had finished what had been left of Palpatine's presence, and there was no doubt in the Jedi Master's mind that – had he known about Irek's existence back then – he would have done everything in his power to destroy the boy in anger. A fight he could never have won, Belana reflected with dread, and one that might have left scars on this galaxy that never would have healed again.
"What are you going to do then?" she asked softly, fearing the answer.
"What I must."
TBC