Chapter 21 – Behind Enemy Lines
They had made good progress form the coast further into the country-side, which consisted mainly of rough, dark coral riffs the oceans had yielded over the course of millennia. Now, while sheltering in a small cave at the side of another riff Nuron had insisted on teaching him the Prayer and Answer.
"I can't go on," Luke complained. "It is too much." Throwing his hands up in defeat he tried to ignore the disappointment in Nuron's golden eyes. She was kneeling in front of him, the palms of her hands resting lightly on his thighs as she directed him through the exercise.
"It can't be too much," she reasoned. "The Force is ever-present, it cannot crush you or anything."
"Of course it can!" he replied heatedly. "It requires an awful lot of concentration to remember oneself when facing that power!"
Nuron pouted. "I can't say I feel anything remotedly as strong as you claim to feel," she said reproachfully.
"Well? Perhaps whatever called out to me back at the coast is magnifying my perception."
"You truly believe so?" the Zabrak asked, awe in her voice. "What do you think it is?"
Luke shrugged. "I have no idea. Something powerful, I guess."
She squeezed his thighs gently. "Try again."
Sighing, Luke closed his eyes once more. The Force was there, so close, so vibrant. A golden light so bright it hurt his mind. Yet he surrendered to it, felt it flow through him like a hot wave of an all-consuming sense of being alive. Focusing more deeply he tried to find whoever had called to him the night before. Suddenly there was a response. Luke's ears filled with an eerie song, a beautiful, peaceful chiming, and he could feel the cool touch of the ocean, the water streaming past him, caressing his body. Drifting in the embrace of the Force he experienced everything more acutely than at any other time. His mind expanded to take in more and ever more of Kynda'bey's oceans, the depth of the sea, the sky, the riffs. Everything was full of life, the Force. It was intoxicating. Then another presence joined him, and another, great, bluish shadows that appeared like ghosts and sang to him. With startling clarity he realized what they were. He felt like laughing out loud.
Laa'kuan.
His mind filled to bursting with the golden light he could feel all around he sent a prayer to the Force, a clear, strong shout of pure being, that echoed away and resounded from the universe to crash back into him with a power that took his breath away. He was drowning in the Force, drowning happily. It felt so grand, so beautiful –
"Luke!"
His eyes snapped open suddenly. Nuron was bent over him, her arms holding him tightly, concern plain on her features. "Luke," she repeated and a single tear slid down her cheek.
"I thought I had lost you for good," she whispered and her forehead sank forward to rest against his shoulder. Stroking her back gently the young Jedi was not yet fully present. His thoughts were still out in the ocean, hunting the blue sea alongside the Mahsenda. "Where were you?" the Zabrak asked softly at last.
"I do not know," he replied quietly, feeling the anguish of sweet loss, a longing to feel the Force again so intimately. "But I think now I know what we must do."
Belana Jen was standing behind her lover as he gazed out over one of the citadel's inner courtyards. She wondered what he was seeing out there. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders she hugged him close, seeking to bodily bridge the gulf separating them in the Force. He was breathing evenly, and he seemed focused on something only he could see. There was an air of expectation surrounding him, as if he were ready to leave at a moment's notice. Yet he remained here, had made himself Yana Dar's advisor, even though he so obviously felt confined and restless.
"What is bothering you?" she asked softly. "Is it Irek?" She put her chin at the base of his neck, waiting.
"Irek? What do you mean?" Turning his head slightly he raised his brows questioningly.
"What you said to Jade. That you would kill him."
"So?" He shrugged.
"He is your son."
"A misled assumption. He is an artificially created being. How could he have any father?"
"You still believe Palpatine did this just to spite you?" Belana gently brushed the long white tresses from his shoulders and kissed the nape of his neck with tenderness. "You know the truth, don't you?"
"Knowing the truth is not the same as accepting it."
"I guess you are right. But you cannot let yourself be blinded by the past. That is exactly what he would have wanted you to do. Franzis Sarreti sent an assassin after Irek, but you and I both know who Palpatine really chose to become the boy's executioner."
"Vader. Or myself."
"And knowing that, you still want to play his game?"
"I have been playing it all along. Why stop now?" he asked lightly, but she could hear the despair in his words. "Belana, I am losing my faith."
"You don't mean that!"she laughed.
"No? If I stay true to my faith I will lose everything."
Belana stiffened at his tone, so full of sadness and resignation that she could almost believe him. "Kell," she whispered, "you do not really believe that, do you?"
"It is something I have dreaded for a long time, but I know it is unevitable. I have lost too many to shy away from that sacrifice now."
"Too many what?" she asked, hugging herself to him tighter.
"People. My clan, the Sith, the Jem'luz ... I was never there to protect them."
"But that is not your duty, is it?"
"I am not sure what my duty is, right now. A guide? I have already guided them here, to this point where they will have to prove that they truly are the steel the last wars have forged them into."
"Then what – "
"I have neglected my belief. When I turn around now I find that my ideals are hampering my perception, that the gods I have followed are cruel and unforgiving, that my dreams have been nothing but the foolish delusions of idealism. Life is simple. I told you so before. I sometimes wondered why I survived at all, when my mother knew for certain that the Sith could not last forever. I fear now I know why. I was playing games."
"But not anymore?" Belana asked quietly, finding it difficult to follow his logic. There was so much he took for granted, things that he knew and she didn't. His motives were not at all clear. But this was his private pain, not something he would ever want to share even with her.
"One last gamble," he replied in a whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "When that one is over, Belana, it will be time for me to choose a successor. I know it will be soon. I can feel it."
"You have chosen already," she reminded him quietly.
"Yes." A sigh wrought itself from his throat and sent shivers down the Jedi Master's back. "But first I have to end what I have begun. I have been a fool to let Palpatine dictate my actions. When the enemy knows one's tactics just as intimately as oneself it is time to change one's ways."
Woken by a soft sound Yana opened her eyes in the middle of the night and almost panicked when she found Abla's face only inches from hers. He was grinning down at her and she tried to relax again somewhat, sinking back into the pillows. But Abla kissed her awake when sleep threatened to overwhelm her once more.
"Whassup?" she murmured muzzily as he ran his hand though her hair gently. "What time is it anyway?" she continued and sat up.
"It is pretty early," he chuckled. "But I want you to see something. Come." Holding out his hand for her he waited until she took it, then drew her toward himself and kissed her again, more deeply this time. Yana felt incredibly good right then. When he released her she bounded off the bed enthusiastically, suddenly anxious to see what he had meant.
Abla put his hands on her waist and propelled her toward the door that led into the grand living room. He activated the window controls and the black panes drew back to reveal the breathtaking view out over the city. The darkness was broken by the purple light of the moon that covered almost everything, except for the shadows. It was a thrilling view, and Yana felt herself shudder in anticipation of the sunrise, for that was what Abla had wanted to share with her. She turned her head to face him with a warm smile and cuddled against him lovingly, while her eyes sought the window again.
Outside a sliver of red appeared along the low clouds that bordered the horizon. Then, in a majestic wave, the morning light started the long advance toward the city walls and the citadel itself. The sun rose from the seas of the dark night in a glorious ball of fire, almost blinding Yana with its intensity. When she felt that the sight would overwhelm her senses Abla slipped his arms around her and hugged her close, his warm body a welcome shield at her back. She knew then that he would always be there for her, would never let her down, no matter what. He loved her, not the Empire, or the Empress, just her. It was an elating revelation and she felt like laughing out loud.
"What?" he whispered into her hair and kissed her left ear tenderly. Turning toward him Yana wore laughter on her face, but it froze when she saw his face, drenched in the blood-red light of the morning sun. He frowned at her expression and his embrace relaxed ever so slightly. "Yana, are you all right?" Disengaging from him, her eyes still wide with horror, she hurried past him without explanation, trying to put some distance between herself and the vision she'd just had. It could not be true. Snatching up a robe from her bed she wrapped it around herself and left her chambers on bare feet. Outside a pair of red-robed guards stood to attention. They followed at a short distance as she wandered aimlessly down the hallway, her mind racing. Only a few moments later someone caught up with her, his footsteps echoing ominously down the corridor ahead of her.
"Your Majesty."
Yana stopped abruptly, not daring to turn around. She could not let anyone see the tears. Not anyone. Not now. When Franzis Sarreti stepped around her to look at her she dropped her gaze, embarrassed. At a wave of his hand the Royal Guardsmen retreated once more.
"Your Majesty. Is there anything I can do for you?" the counselor asked very softly.
Yana gave a bitter laugh. "Can you fight destiny?"
"I can fight it, but I could not defeat it."
"Wise words." Meeting his gray eyes the Empress drew her robe tighter around herself. "You are a wise man, Counselor. I wish you had chosen to take Markhan's place instead of burdening me with all this. I am not fit to be Empress – "
He held up a hand to silence her and shook his head gently. "When you cannot run or hide all that is left is to fight. The weapon is yours to choose."
"You know what I mean?" she asked, surprised at his insight.
Again he nodded. "Your brother. You fear his wrath."
Patting his shoulder Yana smiled tiredly. "No, Counselor. I am not afraid for myself. But I fear that I will lose him. And I regret that loss already."
His gaze was uncomprehending, but then, Franzis Sarreti was not someone who would let emotion get in the way of his duty. He could not understand that Yana was afraid of losing a brother she had never truly known, someone she wanted to get to know very much.
"I am not sure I understand," he ventured hesitantly.
"It does not matter, Counselor. Please. I am quite all right. All I need now is some solitude."
He nodded at her, then turned away to leave. She watched him go pensively. Abla loved her, she knew. But what did Franzis Sarreti see in her? An icon? An assurance for the Empire's continued survival? She was not certain. But whatever it was, she knew she could rely on him.
When the alarm came Gilead Palleon was on his daily round across the new flagship. He had left the Chimaera to Captain Hellermann, so far his second, and had instead taken over the post as the Executor's captain under the Grand Admiral's command. Assisting him was Commander Sujar, who had been promoted during that unfortunate episode with Irek Ismaren. The commander was accompanying him on his round, an attentive student, who was not shy to ask questions.
"Sir, shouldn't we be returning to the bridge?" he asked, when Palleon made for one of the machine control rooms.
"No," the captain replied as he palmed open the door. "A commander's place is not necessarily the bridge. We have several stations all over the ship that can allow one to intercede immediately, instead of losing time by returning to the bridge first. At ease, lieutenant," he told the young officer overseeing the technicians working at the control stations. "What do you have for us?"
"Incoming ship, unknown registry. Communications is trying to verify their identification."
"Verify? Who do they claim to be?"
"Admiral Voss Parck and his bodyguard, Puket."
"Send an escort and have the newcomers stand down their weapons."
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant replied with a queer glance at Sujar. Perhaps the man was wondering why the commander was keeping so quiet. "Commander, I will leave the finer details to you. I hear you have a talent for organization. Lieutenant Narket here will be assisting you," Palleon said quietly.
"As ordered, Captain," Sujar replied.
"Good. I shall be on the bridge," he explained with a smile. Revelation dawned suddenly on the commander's face as he realized that this was a test for his abilities. Without the ressources of the ship's bridge he would have to improvise a bit. But Palleon had no doubt that the man would manage this perfectly. Leaving Sujar to his task he crossed his hands on his back and started the long walk back to one of the turbolifts, that would carry him back up to the bridge. If that was really Voss Parck out there, and he was fairly certain it was indeed the Admiral, then they would be much better prepared for an enemy assault. Parck would take over the ground defenses, while he himself commanded the ships. The Grand Admiral himself would concentrate on coordinating the defense itself.
He exited the turbolift and started toward the lower bridge when he met Naas Deron. The Sith Lord looked to be less on edge than he had over the past few days.
"The Admiral is returning?" he asked with a smile and Palleon nodded mutely as he strode past the taller man. "That is good. We'll need him."
"Any more helpful advice from your side? Have you made any progress in tracking down Chi'in?"
"Not, not yet. His presence seems to be muted somehow. I cannot reach him."
Palleon sighed. It would have been too good to be true, otherwise. "And why do you think we will need the Admiral here?"
"A feeling," Naas Deron answered softly.
"Oh. Good." Turning to block the other man's way to the lower bridge the captain gave the other a sharp nod. "I would ask you to return to the base, Master Deron. Somehow I feel the crew does not appreciate having another Sith on board right now." The truth was, that he himself did not really appreciate Deron's presence. The man was arrogant and he had no concept of teamwork. And his 'hunches' and 'feelings' were disturbing.
"I understand," the Sith replied coldly. "I would not want to inconvenience you and your crew."
"Thank you. That would be all." Whirling away once more Palleon marched toward the staircase that led to the upper bridge. Things were bad enough without someone making them seem even worse.
"What do you mean 'it is growing stronger'?" Nuron shouted, her hands pressed over her ears in a vain attempt to shield her mind against the mental assault that had forced the two of them to rest much earlier than they had planned. Luke, feeling sick to his stomach, could not answer. His back resting against the wall of a small cave he wiped some more sweat from his forehead.
"It is – more intense than before," he managed at last and immediately bent over to throw up what little breakfast he'd managed to eat, and then some more. He was wondering hard whether the Mahsenda felt as sick as he did. They must be frantic. A low moan reached his awareness and he turned his head slowly, rubbing his sleeve over his mouth, to look over at Nuron. She had dropped down to sit on her haunches, her head buried in her hands. "Are you okay?" he asked and started toward her. Her hands came away covered in blood.
The shock at seeing her fingers drenched in the red liquid cured Luke's stomach at once. Hastening over toward her he almost stumbled over the rocky underground. "You are injured!" the young Jedi exclaimed as he dropped to his knees beside her. But when he reached out to examine the wound on her forehead she slapped his arm away with a ferocious growl.
"It is just my horns growing out," she explained testily.
Luke's jaw dropped. "What? Your horns? What? I mean – What? Your horns?"
"It is all right," she told him with a smile, an amused glint in her golden eyes. "You can stop babbling."
"But, you said it wouldn't be until another year – " He raised his right hand to touch the sharp tip of the center horn above the bridge of her nose gingerly. It was black, like her tattoos.
Nuron gave him a proud smile. "Well, perhaps this is a good omen."
Hugging her closely he gave her a careful kiss, then started wiping away the blood from her face. "Wow. You really look fearsome now. Savage, almost."
"Savage?" Drawing a hand alonside his jaw she returned his kiss very gently. "You truly think so?"
Luke gave her a wide grin. "We shall see, won't we?" Just then a new wave of mind-blasting power washed over them. "What the hell is that?" the young Jedi muttered between gritted teeth. "It is incredible!"
"The word I was thinking of was 'frightening'," Nuron murmured back. "Come. The sooner we find out the sooner we can fight it."
The war coordinator seemed incredibly enraged by the Noghri's continuing resistance. They had tried to break his will by repeatedly pretending that his death was imminent, but with each time Chi'in embraced the inevitable more fully. If he was going to die he would certainly not yield anything to his enemies first. But his defiant stance did not count for all that much. The more stress he was put under the more he thought about what he was trying to keep secret, and thus fed the war coordinator's probing mind bits and pieces of vital information. After some time Chi'in really wished that he would die, so he could keep at least some things from the Yuuzhan Vong.
Now, lying exhausted in the rocky ground, with Fahl Dan standing guard over him, he was watching the war master warily. That one was clearly the leader of the group and the only one who seemed to be holding private conversations with the war coordinator.
When the war master nodded in satisfaction and disengaged from the giant creature again Chi'in tensed all over. Almost at once Fahl Dan dropped to his knees beside him, the sharp edge of his strange weapon resting against the Noghri's neck. The things were called amphistaff, as far as he had been able to discover, and they looked like some sort of snake. They could change their shape from hard and sharp to supple and whip-like. And they obeyed their masters dilligently. Having one of those things so close was not very comforting.
The war master had reached the prisoner by now and wore a smile on his horribly scarred features. "The yammosk has discovered the defenses of your base at Ni-rau-an. They will yield to us and be destroyed."
Chi'in glared at the creature, but he did not really feel anything. He had known that he had stood no chance against the war coordinator's mind. All he could do now was have faith in the base's commanders and troops. And perhaps there was something else he could do. He had been wondering about the exact nature of the relationship between the war coordinator and the Yuuzhan Vong warriors.
Again it had been Fahl Dan, so certain of his captive's inability to escape, who had explained to him in a brief moment of repose after hours of mental torture, that the war coordinator – the yammosk, Chi'in recalled the warrior having called that monster – was joining the Yuuzhan Vong, guiding them. It was reasonable to assume even in his current state of mind, that the yammosk would also coordinate the attack on Nirauan. How, he did not know, for surely the thing's powers could not reach that far.
Chi'in did not answer to the war master's prediction. He had found it easier to keep quiet and focus than spend his energy in useless acts of defiance. But his calm bearing had had an additional intent. It served to lower his enemies' expectations. Now he felt strong enough to put his plan in motion. All he had to do was get past the mental pressure the yammosk had surrounded his mind with. Not an easy task.
Focusing inward Chi'in found his heart and soul in turmoil, but he ignored his warring emotions. Again he sought a state of clear reason, of unhampered perception. It was almost impossible to achieve. The yammosk permeated all of his thoughts, exposed his very being constantly, mocked it, even. Yet still the Noghri shied away from using darkness against that creature. He needed calm. But he could not find it. Suddenly the pressure against his throat ceased and he looked up groggily to see Fahl Dan rise to his feet. At the edge of his awareness he found excited voices shouting at one another, then the mind-blasting power of the yammosk overwhelmed everything. Sitting up, Chi'in drew a laborous breath.
"Chi'in!"
He looked up sharply, the sweetly familiar voice making his heart beat even faster. Then he saw her. Nuron was sommersaulting over the heads of half a dozen Yuuzhan Vong warriors, her lightsaber a red beam alive in her hands. But the aliens closing in on her were too fast, too well coordinated, and her lightsaber did not seem to have the effect she had hoped it would have. Chi'in's eyes widenend in horror when he saw her red blade rebound from Fahl Dan's armored chest. The Yuuzhan Vong attacked immediately, driving her back into the throng of soldiers standing behind her. Where was Luke? Why was Luke not with her? Chi'in was frantic. With renewed energy he jumped to his feet and rounded on the yammosk. If he could take that monster out, perhaps then the three of them would not die in vain.
Luke was wondering how Nuron managed to find a focus to fight at all. Standing hunched over at the small entrance they had found to the grotto Luke was trying to fight the mental attacks hammering against his shields relentlessly. He had identified the tentacled, giant creature resting in the midst of the grotto in a huge pool of water as the source of the assault on his mind, but it was sapping his will, was slowly pushing his defenses back. For the first and last time throughout his short career as a Jedi warrior Luke wished he had had the opportunity to train with Roj Kell. Somehow the old man's students seemed to have experience in areas that he himself did not even know about. When he saw Nuron's lightsaber fail to cut through one of the towering aliens he screamed out in fear, but found his emotions smothered instantly by an ever greater sense of despair.
"Nuron!"
He pushed himself away from the wall, but his mind was swimming, denying him the concentration he needed to feel the Force and to use it in his friends' defense. It was then that a powerful image managed to bypass the monster's attacks on his mind. He could see the grotto, could see the thing's tentacles twitch lazily in the water above him, could hear the shouts and screams filtered through the blanket of silence that permeated the sea. Peace settled over him as the Mahsenda enfolded him in their embrace. He accepted it gladly. Safe in the protective cocoon of the predatory creatures he could see clearly, and direct their attack. There were three of them, two huge females and a sleek male. They eagerly took up the chase once he had made his intent plain.
His legs were moving of their own accord now, his feet hammering over the rocky, slippery ground, never losing their purchase, and his left hand shot out to send a ripple of power through the ranks of the alien warriors surrounding his friends, just as the monster reared up with a piercing scream that reverbrated from the grotto's walls. The Mahsenda were almost invisible, their skin adapting to their surroundings easily. He could just make out where their strong jaws had buried long teeth into the thing's flanks. It started thrashing madly in their grip and gradually the power it exuded seemed to fade as it concentrated on this new threat.
Then a powerful voice started bellowing orders at the panicking soldiers. Luke hit them head-on, his mind a weapon that could crack their armor easily, even though he could not sense them in the Force. Yet they were regrouping fast under the lead of a tall warrior whom the young Jedi immediately identified as most dangerous foe among those facing him. The creature started for him, a staff spinning lazily in his right hand. Luke extended an arm toward him, ready to crush the thing's head. But then, in an instant, his concentration shattered. He had been using the Dark Side! He had been about to initiate a slaughter! His momentary indecision cost him when the warrior attacked, swinging the staff at him in an elegant arc. Luke brought his arm up to block it, but withdrew in the last moment when he saw the sharp edge of the weapon, that would have cleanly severed his limb had he not noticed the danger in time. Suddenly Nuron was by his side.
"Where is Chi'in?" she shouted in his ear. Luke shook his head without looking at her. He had been too focused on the battle to pay much attention to the Noghri. But as if called by Nuron's desperate question the Sith Lord's small, wiry frame darted between the much bigger aliens toward them. With a wild cry he launched himself at the back of the tall warrior leading them. The creature reacted with incredible speed, the staff he held in his hand stabbing at the Noghri's middle. Chi'in did not manage to twist out of the way fully. The staff's sharp edge tore over his lower ribcage in a spray of blood.
"No!" Nuron brought her own blade up in a high strike position and rushed at the warrior with a snarl on her face.
Luke followed her with a drawn-out, wordless howl of pure rage. The Zabrak blocked the warrior's wild swing at her head and moved in toward her adversary. Her left hand ran over his neck and chest in a swift search, before she glided around him, with him following her move clumsily. Then they vanished in the throng of soldiers and Luke stood alone, his heart hammering in his throat. The shrieks of the huge monster had subsided, and he looked up in shock to see the thing's black eyes gazing straight at him. His eyes dropped down to see something at the edge of the pool, the carcass of one of the Mahsenda, he guessed. There was no sign of the other two. For now the monster seemed to need some time to recover from the predators' attack, but that could not last. They needed to leave fast.
"Nuron!" he hollered over the din of voices and realized that just a few moments had passed. Quite a lot of the aliens were now moving in his direction purposefully. The young Jedi hastened over to where Chi'in had fallen and winced at the sight of him. Wordlessly he gathered the Noghri's smaller form in his arms. "Nuron!" he yelled again, his eyes searching the crowd for her. Suddenly she was there, seemingly dropping from the ceiling. Luke risked a quick glance up and saw that a rock ledge ran almost the entire length of the chamber at a height of about three meters. When his gaze wandered further up he noticed a strange array of glittering crystals, or plants, but by then Nuron had already grabbed his collar and started dragging him back into the small tunnel they had used to get down here.
"We gotta get to our ships!" she hissed at him. But both knew that now that they had alerted the enemy to their presence escaping the planet would become a lucky gamble.
Grand Admiral Thrawn had been studying the data Chi'in had brought back from his extensive travels intently, but he had a hard time finding a clue there. The Noghri had not managed to uncover the Jem'luz homeworld's secret, but Thrawn had studied the Jem'luz for a while, before he had annihilated them. Now, with the news connecting them to Roj Kell he thought he might have a better chance at understanding them. When Naas Deron entered his office he didn't look up.
"Take a seat." The tall human coomplied wordlessly. "I am going to ask a few questions. Please try to answer them to the best of your knowledge."
"Yes. Of course," Deron answered quietly.
"Excellent. Is there a connection between the Unknown Regions and early Sith history?"
"To my knowledge, no."
"Apart from the ysalamiri and the people invading us now, have there ever been species with a similar specifcation concerning the Force?"
"No species, no," Naas Deron answered with a shake of his head, "but Lord Kell himself is close to invisible in the Force."
"How so?"
"I assume his mental shields are that good."
"You assume?"
Deron gave him a blank look. "Well, that is the only explanation I have."
"And the fact that the deaths of the people massacred in the Unknown Regions did not gain your attention, nor that of Chi'in, Cronn or Puket, what does that tell you?"
"It is impossible."
"Apparently not," Thrawn replied coolly. "Perhaps you could put your mind to finding an answer to that question?"
"Of course. Sir, you have studied the Jem'luz. What can you tell me about them?"
Leaning back in his seat Thrawn steepled his hands across his chest and regarded the Sith Lord earnestly. "Their culture was somewhat confusing. We knew them to be savages who did not tolerate anyone on their planet. Yet from time to time representatives of other nations that live here, in the Unknown Regions, would come to their homeworld. They were only permitted to enter a certain area, something of a holy ground."
"Why did you decide to annihilate them?"
"Those other nations were enemies of the Chiss. I had to assume that they were using the Jem'luz' religious antics to disguise their intentions toward us. Interrogations of representatives captured on that world confirmed those suspicions. I do not know what purpose they had, what ideals."
"So they were only hostile toward the Chiss?"
"Not directly. But the Chiss never participated in those gatherings."
"Why?"
"We were – discouraged – by our enemies."
"But what made you intitiate the Jem'luz' extinction in the first place?"
"There was clear evidence that pointed toward and alliance between the Jem'luz and other nations that was forming against us."
Naas Deron nodded pensively. "So you decided to strike at them first."
"Yes." The Grand Admiral leaned toward the Sith once more. "I would give much to have Roj Kell here instead of you, Master Deron, no offense meant, but you are all I have. You have studied the Chiss' culture for a year now, and you know the Sith intimately. What possibility do you see to merge our two cultures into one effective fighting force?"
Naas Deron regarded him calmly, his posture utterly relaxed. "Let the Sith be your eyes and ears and let the Chiss use their knowledge of the Unknown Regions to direct them."
"Master Chi'in was captured by the enemy. What makes you think you can succeed where your master failed?"
"He was alone. I will have a fleet to back me up. Your fleet."
Thrawn gave him a tight smile. "I suppose it is worth a try." At that moment a young Chiss appeared at the doorway.
"Syndic, Admiral Parck has arrived."
"Ah. Please see him in." So, Voss Parck had returned from his unfortunate mission. Thrawn kept his features carefully neutral, but he felt angry at his long-time friend for having abandoned the base so senselessly. The Admiral strode into the Grand Admiral's office with his Twi'lek bodyguard on his heels and nodded at Naas Deron before he saluted toward Thrawn.
"Sir, it is good to see you back," he said pleasantly.
"I cannot say the same of you, my friend," Thrawn replied coldly. "Your foolish diplomatic mission could have doomed this base's troops."
"They are still alive," Parck murmured softly.
"Indeed. But you were not here to ensure their survival."
"I thought it best to go to Byss myself. Sending another representative – "
"Would have made no difference in the end," the Grand Admiral interrupted him harshly. "Do you have anything useful to tell me?"
Voss Parck did not find any forgiveness in the Grand Admiral's eyes or features. Looking at him expectantly Thrawn clearly was not inclined to forget this breach of security protocol. He briefly glanced at Naas Deron, who was staring fixedly at Puket, and the Twi'lek herself seemed to have a hard time keeping quiet. The tips of her lekkus were twitching excitedly.
"We have made a stop-over at Anobis and uncovered that Yana Dar has proclaimed herself Empress."
"Palpatine's daughter," Thrawn muttered. "So she is secure on Byss?"
"Yes. Apparently Roj Kell is with her."
That seemed to get the other's undivided attention. "He is on Byss? Then I will contact him right away. We need his input concerning this threat."
"Especially since he was responsible for launching this attack at us in the first place," Parck added gloomily.
"Yes." Thrawn gave him a small smile. "True. I would appreciate it if you could make an effort at getting him on the line for me, Admiral, since you have been to Byss recently."
"Yes, sir, right away."
"And report to General Sa'lym'a. He is to surrender command to you."
"Ground defenses?" Parck asked, surprised.
"Yes. Captain Palleon will be assisting me aboard the Executor. Dismissed."
Nodding once the Admiral turned away. Somehow he had a feeling that Thrawn wasn't finished with him yet.
Walking the somewhat deserted hallways of the inner fortress Abla Othana felt ill at ease. Yana's behavior this last morning worried him. She had refused to talk about it, and somehow the gentle look in her blue eyes had frightened him more than her stubborn insistence on keeping her silence. He made his way toward Franzis Sarreti's office slowly – the counselor had simply taken over Tious Markhan's headquarters – and his thoughts were with his lover. She had changed over the past days, as if she were not certain anymore whether it had been the right decision to take the throne. Perhaps Sarreti would have an answer. But when he walked past the guards standing watch in front of the office and found Roj Kell standing at the viewport, with Sarreti seated behind his desk, he knew that he had been expected.
"Abla," the counselor said with a smile. "Why don't you take a seat?"
Dropping into one of the chairs standing in front of the desk Abla gave the other a hard glare. "What is this about?"
"Actually I was about to ask the same of you. The Empress does not seem herself. Something is troubling her, and I – we – had hoped that you could tell us what that is."
"We?" Abla glanced over at Roj Kell, who had not moved from his place. "What if I told you that I don't know myself? And that I am also worried?"
"Unfortunate." Leaning back in his chair Sarreti regareded him out of cold gray eyes.
Abla felt angry all of a sudden. "Why unfortunate? Because your plan is not proceeding as you have planned?"
"No. Unfortunate, because we need a strong leader right now."
"You could always take over," Abla retorted quietly.
Sarreti's brow rose in fake indignation. "That is treason, my friend. And I for one would not stand for it."
"Why? Why not? You know this business far better than she does."
"That is true. For now. But I intend to teach her," the counselor answered lightly. "But I fear that her brother would prove too much of a distraction. Neither I nor Lord Kell believe he will come around to see sense."
"Is that so?" Abla shot another glare at the Sith's back. "And Lord Kell hasn't even met the boy yet."
"I have heard enough." The old man's voice was low, but it filled the room easily. Abla swallowed hard. If there was one thing he would not want it was to become the man's enemy. "Fact is that Yana Dar would put more effort in trying to redeem her brother than study to become the leader of the Empire."
"She never really wanted the job, you know?" Abla tried weakly.
"She accepted it. Now there is no turning back. At least not right away," Kell replied and turned around to face the slicer and the counselor. "As I see it the Emperor knew very well that his daughter would not shed responsibility once accepted. She is caught, at least her mind is. Her heart might say otherwise, but I doubt she will listen."
"Then you do not know her at all," Abla breathed. "Yana is not as cold or ruthless as you are, or her father. She will welcome Irek home and she will make him see the error of his ways."
"Too much of a risk," Sarreti insisted.
Then Abla got it. Rising from his seat abruptly he shook his head with a growl. "You are planning on killing him, am I right? You don't even want him to get close to Yana. And you want me to 'distract' her? Is that so?"
The counselor nodded solemnly. "Lord Kell will apprehend the boy before he can reach the Empress. He will test him. Should Irek fail that test – " Snapping his fingers once Sarreti gave Abla a cold smile. "We cannot afford any more risks. Should the Empress die, you and I will be dead before we can even blink. As long as the moffs and governors pretend that Yana will rule like her father did she is safe. Therefore her brother must die."
"I won't stand for it," the slicer announced. "My loyalty is to the Empress." He gave Sarreti a hard look. "Who are you loyal to?"
The counselor rose elegantly in one swift move. "I am loyal to the Empire, Abla Othana. Yana Dar symbolizes the Empire. And I will see to it that that symbol remains strong. I will not see her fall just because you are taken by misplaced compassion for a madman."
Still gazing hard at Sarreti the slicer addressed the third man in the room. "Lord Kell, do you think the same?" When the man did not answer right away Abla risked a glance. The ancient Sith was studying both him and Sarreti with interest. Then a sudden smile appeared on his lips.
"So you have some backbone after all. Good. You will need it," he declared, his enchanting voice like a steel blade sheathed in dark velvet. "But keep one thing in mind. For the past two years the two of you have been working into Palpatine's hands. You have no assurance that your own plan will succeed, that he has not some nasty surprise hidden that will trap and destroy you."
"What are you talking about?" Abla demanded angrily.
"Yana Dar. She is her father's daughter, in more ways than she wants to realize." Those pale eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I can see your doubt, Abla Othana, but I will prove it to you. And then you must decide what you believe in."
TBC