Chapter 24 – The Stand
Captain Lorth Needa did not feel overly pleased that his ship had been chosen as flagship for the task force that left Byss with Nirauan as destination. He had known beforehand that the Eisenhart would lead the assignment, that her captain would be the Dark Lord's second. Yet he could see the pride in the eyes of his crew, could see their triumph as they gazed at the twenty Imperial ships that had joined them. Five Victory-class Star Destroyers, two Imperial-class Star Destroyers and a score of heavy cruisers and corvettes. An impressive force. And still, he was aware of the tall warlord seated in the bridge's command chair at his back, keeping all too silent. Something was worrying Skywalker. Lorth Needa suspected that it was something he had learned on Byss, and he could also hazard a guess that it was related to the death of Irek Ismaren and the disappearance of Roj Kell.
Over the past three days the jump had taken them the Dark Lord had increasingly sought solitude, talking to no one, and only because he had known him for so long the captain could identify the distant pain in his icy blue eyes. Now, only hours separated them from Nirauan, and Skywalker had returned to the bridge, perching like a dark shadow on his chair, waiting for something to happen.
A sudden movement behind him made Needa whirl around in startled surprise and he could see the same emotion on the faces of his crew as they all stared at the Dark Lord. He was standing tall, very still, poised for action. Needa put on a blank expression and moved over to the navigator, drawing Skywalker with him, as if this maneuver had been a planned one. He doubted, though, that they could fool the crew.
The navigator was shifting uncomfortably in his seat while both the captain and the Dark Lord stood behind him, watching his screens in silence. Then, very gently, Skywalker leaned over the man's shoulder and tapped the center screen delicately. Needa recognised the Deep Core worlds depicted on the new image. Looking up he met Sykwalker's gaze, confused.
"A void," the Dark Lord explained quietly, almost too low to hear, and Needa noticed the navigator's ears perck up to pick up on what was being said. Moving away again the captain followed his superior toward the command chair. Once seated again Skywalker continued. "There have been some disturbances, distant ones, over the past few days. Something is changing."
"Do you have any clue what that might be, sir? How it may affect us?"
"It feels like a landslide, an avalanche, and it is directed at the Unknown Regions. I am not sure who it is supposed to hit out there."
"Can we use it to our advantage somehow?"
"First we need to identify its source and purpose. And utmost priority right now is to meet with the Grand Admiral, gain his insight, and, ultimately, attack. I have an idea for our overall strategy, based on what Kell told Thrawn concerning these Yuuzhan Vong, but I need to hear his opinion first."
The captain nodded his agreement. He was an adept commander when it came down to space combat, he knew, but extensive strategy eluded him. He found it easier to deal with hard facts than speculations on possible responses of the enemy. Of course, even locked in combat the knowledge of one's enemy's abilities was vital, but that was not the same as manipulating him into a favorable response. That was the domain of such warlords as the Dark Lord and the Grand Admiral. They relied on commanders such as Needa to carry out their tactics in battle, and improvise, if necessary. It was something the captain had learned a long time ago, and he was content with his role in this game.
A tiny smile crept onto his lips. During the last weeks of the war between the Rebel Alliance and the Empire he had not had a chance to command a fleet as grand as this one. And his patrol duty at the critical borders of New Republic space later on had been routine work, nothing as inspirational as this crusade was going to be. In a frightening instant Lorth Needa realized that he loved battle more than any other field of duty the navy could offer. He threw a startled glance at the Dark Lord and saw understanding there.
"Time to flex those old muscles," Skywalker told him with a smile. "Let's hope this little exercise doesn't get us killed."
On the second patrol round this day Admiral Voss Parck, with the Chiss General Sa'lym'a walking at his side, threw a pensive glance at the couple that had sought refuge on one of the outer perimeter stations of the fortress, barely visible in the gloom of the coming night. He should have guessed that one of the reasons for Naas Deron's unexpected visit on Nirauan was the impending return of his lover. It was disturbing, that the Sith Lord had set such a personal priority at a time like this, and yet, in another sense, it was also understandable. He frowned a bit, when Puket rose from her seat and started toward him, Deron in tow. She was smiling.
"Admiral," she acknowledged him quietly. "General Sa'lym'a."
"Everything all right over here?" he asked cheerfully. The Twi'lek had saved his life back on Byss, and he felt fond of her, if nothing else. She was a friend, a comrade. A confidante.
"No trouble," Naas Deron replied in her place. "The fleet is still set on red alert?"
"Of course."
The Sith frowned deeply. "And the Grand Admiral still refuses to hear me?"
"He does not want you with the scouts, and that is enough for me. It should be enough for you too, Master Deron."
"Of course, Admiral. But I simply do not understand his motives for that order."
Parck gazed at the man pensively. It was clear to him that Deron hated feeling useless, and that he would do anything to participate in the more interesting activities of the fleet, than stay with the ground troops. If an attack came they would engage the enemy only very late, if at all. For a warrior trained by the Sith that was intolerable. But Voss Parck also understood that Thrawn did not want to have the Sith Lord take independent action. Naas Deron and his companion needed to learn to fit into a group, needed to learn to obey orders. Well, Puket was on the right track. He gave the fretting Sith a small smile.
"Master Deron, you have not trained with the scouts and your presence would only hamper them in performing their tasks."
"Why the fleet?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"He is banning the Sith from the fleet only, apparently. I wonder why?"
Voss Parck's smile widened. "If the Yuuzhan Vong break through the defenses the Grand Admiral is drawing up the ground troops will be the only obstacle in the path of the invaders. You are a warrior, Master Deron. No pilot. That should answer your question."
"There's little difference between either, Admiral. But I see your point."
"Good. Then I suggest this is settled."
"Yes." Naas Deron wrapped an arm affectionately around Puket's shoulders and hugged her close. "Although I doubt they'll get through Thrawn at all."
"Incoming call," Gilead Palleon announced calmly and half-turned toward the Grand Admiral.
"Identification?" the Chiss asked just as quietly.
The captain glanced at the screen for a few seconds, then smiled. "It's the Eisenhart. They are transmitting a fleet status report. Twenty-five ships in total will be joining us."
"Enough to make up for the Shooting Star and her task force. Excellent. Once they arrive, ask Lord Skywalker to join me on board the Executor."
"Yes, sir."
So, twenty-five ships at his disposal. He strongly doubted that the Dark Lord would object to his plans. They were fool-proof. Twenty-five ships, plus his own task force of twelve, including the Executor. Even if the Yuuzhan Vong sent all of their ships against them they would still stand no chance. Ech'an'dana's scouts had reported sixteen vessels, four of those capital. Yet the Grand Admiral did not like to rely on data that old. He had to assume that the enemy commanders were not complete fools, and that they had brought reinforcements into the conflict. The most convenient staging area for his own forces for a raid into the Lieman Corridor would have been Miecona, where the Yuuzhan Vong had captured Chi'in. It was there Syndic Ech'an'dana had planned to have Thrawn team up with him, yet the Syndic's rash decision to bail his scouts out of trouble had prevented that meeting. Perhaps that had been for the best.
The choice of a target on the part of the Yuuzhan Vong was clear. Nirauan was at the very edge of Chiss controlled-space, opposite from the Lieman Corridor, which obviously had already been overrun by the enemy. With an advance from both sides the Yuuzhan Vong could crush the capital worlds like Csilla and Almashin easily. To defend those worlds the Chiss would have to send more and more ships and troops away to meet the enemy, so the Yuuzhan Vong could chip at their defenses bit by bit until Csilla and Almashin were left unprotected, a ripe offering. Had the Yuuzhan Vong been content with establishing a single front they would have risked a hard response. This way they left the Chiss no choice but to split their forces. So all he had to do was to discourage them from pursuing that strategy. One crushing defeat here at Nirauan, followed by a sweep along the edges of Chiss space right up to the defensive line a few hundred clicks between Almashin and Kynda'bey. And then the real game could begin.
"Captain Palleon."
"Yes, sir?" the captain asked calmly, and Thrawn noticed Commander Sujar hovering at his shoulder.
"Summon Naas Deron and Puket to the bridge once the meeting has ended. I have a task for them."
An hour later the Grand Admiral stalked into the bridge's conference room, arms crossed behind his back, to find the Dark Lord already waiting for him. Skywalker was studying the latest reports filed by the scouts out on patrol and he looked up from his reading with a smile when the Chiss entered. Yet he didn't bother to rise from his seat. They were alone, so Thrawn did not mention this breach of protocol. He knew, just as Skywalker did, that there were more important matters than protocol right now. Taking his seat he waited for Skywalker to finish reading. Finally the tall human put the datapad aside and gave his counterpart a long, hard look.
"A fine mess."
"Not too bad," Thrawn answered softly.
The Dark Lord frowned. "We shall see. The mine screen you have established should hold off any all too nosy star fighters, but they will also hamper our own ships' maneuverability. I therefore conclude you are planning on crushing them against the planet."
"That is one aspect of the strategy, yes."
"There are only four ships guarding the planet, plus the Executor. They will suspect a trap the moment they arrive. Perhaps even beforehand, if their scouts get close enough. And they will get close enough, or else you would lose the element of surprise, if they would not check back in."
"Exactly. They will be forced to secure the area first, before they can attack the planet. According to my information the goal they pursue is conquest, so a forward base would make sense. Nirauan is a fitting place for that, which was why we chose it in the first place too."
"If Chi'in has revealed too much they might also try to capture you."
"What for? I am worth more to them dead," the Chiss replied drily.
"Also true," Skywalker conceded. "So, what is the plan?"
"Ech'an'dana's task force undoubtedly has reached the Lieman Corridor by now. The presence of his forces in that area will lead the enemy to the conclusion that we are planning a concentrated attack on their troops stationed there."
Skywalker gave a pensive nod. "They will expect the battle group to be joined by reinforcements. We could select several jump points that head toward that section of space, to give the impression that the majority of our fleet stationed here is indeed leaving. They will think the remaining forces easy prey. That's a standard tactic," he added thoughtfully. "Not your style at all, Grand Admiral."
"You know me. They don't. Lord Kell told me that the Yuuzhan Vong believe fervently in battle. That includes the honor of battle. Assuming we think like them we would rely on Chi'in to rather die than reveal our defenses. Besides, Chi'in did not know we were getting reinforcements. They won't know about your ships, and my scouts are thorough. No Yuuzhan Vong probe will get past them without their alerting us first. Yet I suggest quick action. They will expect us to anticipate an attack out of the Unknown Regions."
"The question is, will they also expect us to anticipate their move and post our strongest defenses toward the Core?"
"That is the catch." Pursing his lips thoughtfully Thrawn shook his head. "Yet I do not believe they will push so far. They cannot risk having an enemy at their backs as they continue coreward. No, defenses in that sector would only waste resources."
"I don't like that," Skywalker told him with a dark look. "Unfortunately it is reasonable. It's a long way from the Lieman Corridor. Supplies are hard to smuggle through enemy territory too." He heaved a tiny sigh. "All right. On your responsibility."
It was a joke, of course. If the enemy pushed toward the Core against all expectations the Dark Lord would have no choice but to abandon the Chiss and stop the invaders before they could go too far. Nirauan was the place, and they both knew it.
Walking through the bleak corridors of the Executor toward the hangar bay, Anakin felt strangely at home. Even though he had never commanded her in combat himself she had been built to be his flagship. Yet he knew that the ship was in excellent hands, now that she had been won back from Irek Ismaren. He felt a pang of guilt when he thought of the boy, his violent death. It seemed such a useless waste of life, and yet, now that he had heard all the details of Irek's madness he doubted that any effort at redeeming him could have been successful. Still, he pitied the child for all of his hardships, his loneliness. He could understand what he had gone through, could understand it all too well. The sharp teeth of betrayal and desertion had eaten away at his heart too, before he had fallen into Palpatine's clutches.
Shaking off those dark memories he forced himself to concentrate on the task ahead. With the forces they had assembled here, pushing the Yuuzhan Vong back should be manageable. But this was a foe they had never really engaged before. True, Voss Parck and Gilead Palleon had managed to thwart the first attack on the planet with surprisingly small losses, but that only meant that the Yuuzhan Vong would now come in at greater numbers. If Roj Kell was to believed the one advantage that could prove crucial was the yammosk, a creature that could coordinate the alien troops by will alone. Faster than a Chiss or human mind, faster than any comm relay. Which meant that their troops would be able to react earlier and more efficient than his own or Thrawn's. Destroying the yammosk was therefore first priority.
"Sir!" a young ensign hurried up toward him from the direction of his shuttle as he rounded the corner and entered the hangar bay. "Sir, Black Squadron reports enemy scout activity!"
"How far away?"
Instead of answering the man handed him a datapad. Looking at the numbers, Anakin cursed whole-heartedly. They were too early! Damn! Long legs propelling him onward he sprinted toward his ship, not bothering to wait for the ensign. "Get to the Eisenhart as fast as this clutch can go!" he yelled at the startled pilot. "And open a conference live feed to the Eisenhart's bridge and to the Executor!"
The shuttle's comm officer set to work instantly. "You're online, sir."
"Good. Grand Admiral, you have received the bad news?"
"Affirmative," Thrawn's smooth voice conceded calmly. "Scout activity in sector eighteen."
"Captain Needa, Black Squadron is to intercept and destroy," Anakin told the commander of his flagship.
"As ordered, sir," came the prompt reply.
The shuttle lifted off the deck and sailed toward the hangar opening serenly, just moments before a truly giant ship dropped ot of hyperspace almost on top of them. "Evasive!" Anakin exclaimed out of reflex, and that was for the best, since it shook the startled pilot and co-pilot out of their shocked paralysis. There was a curious lurch and then, with stomach-churning abruptness, the shuttle plunged dirtside.
"Sir, we've lost our shields!" the co-pilot reported, aghast.
"What? Impossible!"
Again Thrawn's voice came over the live feed. "Shields down to 70 percent. Shield damage in sector seven. Retreat and close off the area. Hull breach imminent."
And indeed, as the shuttle spun around to halt the breakneck fall Anakin could see the giant alien ship pour what looked like plasma into the Executor's defenseless left flank. He had no idea what had caused the shields to go, but this close the damage the enemy ship was inflicting on the Super Star Destroyer looked to become devastating, even if the shields had been fully functional. Over the comm live feed he could hear the distant blare of the ship alarm aboard the Executor, announcing a hull breach, and voices jabbering in confusion. Suddenly there was silence. Watching in horror Anakin saw the Executor's bridge tower collapse under the onslaught of enemy fire. Then a direct hit knocked his own ship off course, and sent it spinning toward Nirauan, out of control, and directly into the mine field surrounding the planet.
Lorth Needa had a hard time bringing his rapidly beating heart back under control. A serene coldness settled over his mind, ignoring the Executor's plight, ignoring the chaos of voices that filled the bridge speakers on several channels.
"Sir! We have lost Lord Skywalker's shuttle!" Commander Teer Shikay announced, startled. There was not much that could surprise that seasoned officer, but the loss of their Supreme Commander seemed to get close. Well, they needed to avoid panic at all cost.
"Commander Shikay, launch all fighters. Relay the order to the rest of the fleet. Contact the base to have Admiral Parck surrender fleet command to me instantly."
"Launch!" the commander bellowed into his headphones. "Sir, I cannot raise the base!"
"Direct feed to every friendly on this field."
"Done!" There was a little less of shrill panic in Shikay's voice now. Good.
"This is Captain Lorth Needa, currently in command of the flagship Eisenhart of the New Repblic Imperial Allied Forces. I am taking over command of this fleet. Commanders, check in, please." The answers came in rapid succession. They all knew that there was no time to waste. Finally there was silence.
"Thank you," the captain breathed. "Now, we've been through this a hundred times. You all know your codes. I expect you to follow my orders and only mine. Clear? Good. Blue Group, Red Group and Green Group, I want you to punch a hole through that fighter screen coming at us. Now. Black Group, join with Gold and Lead Group." He dropped into the command chair the Dark Lord had occupied only hours ago, feeling himself age by decades. "Commander Shikay, status report, please."
"The Executor looks pretty bad – "
"We can all see that," Needa interrupted his second gently. "I meant the enemy's status."
Flustered, Teer Shikay nodded vigorously. "Of course. Four capital ships, all launching fighters. I estimate a thousand. Fifteen smaller cruisers, all seemingly deployed to attack singular ships."
"Good. Admiral Hxenti, General Litteera, check in." The officers commanding Gold and Black Group bellowed an affirmative. "I want the three groups to form a loose spearhead, aimed at that ship that's pummeling the Executor. Make that two ships," he added with a suppressed groan. "Blue, Red, Green command, what's your status?"
"We are experiencing heavy losses. Their fighters are fast, and they absorb our shots."
"All right. Give me a visual." Studying the slaughter dispassionately Needa felt responsibilty almost overwhelm him. He was now the only one standing between escape and certain doom for thousands of troops. It was incredible. Forcing himself to breathe evenly he concentrated again. "Blue, Green and Red, I suggest you keep your capital ships between those fighters and the main battle field. Your squadrons are to shepherd them into tighter knots and concentrate the fire into that greater mass. Launch assault shuttles to assist them. And keep your own guns ready."
"Captain Needa, this is Captain Hellermannn, in charge of the Chimarea. What orders do you have for us?"
"Wait please, I need to call up your position." Hellermannn was in command of the sentinel ships surrounding Nirauan. Meaning he could risk microjumps where Needa's ships could not. Whistling through his teeth the captain almost smiled when he saw two of the capital enemy ships move to break the spearhead his own task force had formed. The giant warships were moving into the open space left between the two loose rows of the most powerful cruisers and Star Destroyers Needa had at his command. Well, almost all the powerful ones. "Captain Hellermannn, I am transmitting your orders right now. You have two minutes."
The seconds ticked by while the battle raged on outside. The Executor was firing at the two ships flanking her, but the damage spread out toward the bow of the Super Star Destroyer, and the return fire died down ever so slowly the more the damage advanced. Watching the ship's left flank being ripped open, Needa felt sorrow for the thousands of people dying over there. Suddenly noticing the true intent of the enemy he jumped to his feet. They were aiming at putting the largest ship out of the fight, of course, but additionally, the planet's gravity would drag the Super Star Destroyer toward Nirauan and open a convenient breach in the mine field surrounding the planet, clearing the way for a ground attack. He did not doubt that the forces under Admiral Parck's command were aware of what was going on up here, but he did not know whether Parck would know how to respond.
Then an alarm pinged, signalling the end of the two minute break he had given Hellermannn to bring his ships into position. Just in that moment, as he had hoped would happen, the two capital enemy ships opened fire at the backs of his own formation. "Black and Gold, close wings at attack speed!" he yelled and then the score of Star Destroyers and cruisers shot forward, closing around the Executor and the enemy ships that were still pouring plasma at her burning hull. "Open fire!"
And that order did not only go to his ships, but also to Hellermannn's command, that had appeared along with Yellow Group at the backs of the two capital ships that had snuck up on Needa's task force and suddenly found their quarry gone. Under the combined effort of the massive Imperial and New Republic ships they made some progress in pummelling the giant warships and Teer Shikay let out a bellow of joy and relief when the one directly in front of the Eisenhart broke apart under the onslaught. Hellermannn reported equal success. But that still left two ships that remained untouched by the brunt of the backlash. They had found easier prey in Blue, Green and Red Group. The second warship that had also been receiving return fire from the Executor herself, yielded to Needa's forces. They could make out escape pods launching from the bow of the Super Star Destroyer now, and the captain immediately sent shuttles out to retrieve them. The tide had turned only briefly in their favor, since the enemy was far too numerous and quick to hold back for long. They had to get out, and fast. Or else Nirauan would become a total loss.
Alarms were blaring at full volume and cut off with startling abruptness as the bridge tower collapsed and perished along with the ship's main comm center. Of course there was no true silence, since the impacts of enemy fire were drowning out even the distant screams of dying crew members, but there was an eerie absence of life itself. This was chaos, death, not the orderly battle Gilead Palleon had expected. He had to almost run to keep up with the Grand Admiral's fast strides, and he barely dared look at the Chiss' hard face. Thrawn's glowing eyes seemed unreal in the emergency lights of the ship that matched the blood-red of those cold pits into icy concentration. He seemed the calm center of the storm, in control of himself, exuding calm and infecting the troopers and crewers they met on their way to the bow.
Then the Grand Admiral's arm whipped around suddenly to take hold of an elderly technician hurrying by, toward the direction they had come from. "Where do you think you are going?" he asked sharply, and the man broke into gibbering confusion.
"Damage report from the bridge... " he answered, uncertain.
"The bridge is gone. Get yourself off the ship. Captain," letting go of the technician Thrawn assumed his fast pace once more. "Ship-wide alert. I want everyone to man the escape pods, except for the gunners."
"Yes, sir," Palleon replied briskly and moved to go ahead. But then a female Chiss officer arrived at a dead run and blocked their way.
She gave the Grand Admiral a sharp bow. "Message from Commander Sujar, sir. He says the forward batteries are under control and functional. He also says for you to get the hell out of here," she added with an almost outraged look in her glowing eyes.
"Where is he?"
"He has set up his headquarters in the bow. I'll lead you."
A particularly hard hit rattled the giant ship's superstructure in an iron fist. "Main drive is gone," Palleon commented dispassionately. "She'll drift toward Nirauan and crash, most likely."
"An estimate on the trajectory?" Thrawn asked quietly as they gathered more speed, jogging after the Chiss officer.
"She'll miss the base."
"And contaminate the area nevertheless. Perhaps that is not even all that bad."
Palleon found his mouth hanging open. "Sir?"
"Radioactive contamination. I don't assume these Yuuzhan Vong can deal with that."
"But the base..."
"Admiral Parck will evacuate in time." The Grand Admiral turned his head ever so slightly to give his second an amused look. "Voss Parck can handle a ground assault. Contrary to my troops, he knows the benefits of fighting dirty."
"Imperial standard requirement for commanding officers," Palleon returned, picking up on Thrawn's black humor.
A rare smile appeared on the admiral's face, but was cut off when they reached the bow. Commander Sujar, his expression pensive, was the center of attention, chasing his officers this way and that, a headcomm adorning his graying hair. Just the same as he had taken over back when Irek Ismaren had almost destroyed the ship he had now anticipated the Grand Admiral and initiated the counter-attack before Thrawn had had time to issue the order himself. Palleon smiled.
"Grand Admiral on deck!" Lieutenant Narket, standing by Sujar's side, bellowed, and everyone stopped in their tracks to give Thrawn a tight salute.
"Proceed," the Chiss told them quietly, and the bustle rose up again. Joining Sujar and Narket the Captain and the Grand Admiral looked around in wonder.
"We are using the remaining radar systems to coordinate our fire, but it is mostly shooting blindly, I fear," the commander explained calmly. "Lieutenant Narket is trying to establish a line to the Eisenhart to have them direct us. So far it isn't working. Sergeant Alok and his teams are taking out the assault shuttles with some personnel and General Diggil is with the techs to have a look at the damage. And what are you still doing here?"
"The Executor is doomed, Commander. I ordered a ship-wide evacuation," Thrawn replied icily. "So I should rather ask what you are still doing here?"
"Giving you some breathing space," Sujar answered, with weariness heavy in his tone. "Seriously, sir, we need you to survive. You and the captain. Everyone who's here has volunteered. It'll be a real boost to their morale to know that those bastards didn't get you."
For a long time the Grand Admiral remained silent. His jaw muscles were bunched tightly together and his glowing eyes narrowed in anger. But in the end he gave Sujar a sharp nod.
"This is a futile effort. My order stands. You and your men will evacuate."
"With all due respect, sir, I refuse that order."
"Lieutenant Narket. You will lead your people to the closest escape pods. Now," Thrawn continued, his gaze still locked on Sujar.
"No, sir," the younger officer replied, his face flushing red as he realized that he was defying his superior, and what was more, that he was defying Grand Admiral Thrawn himself. But he also seemed determined.
"Very well," the Grand Admiral breathed. "Both of you are stripped of rank and command. I cannot tolerate mutiny on my ship, and it still is my ship, until it ceases to be. Is that clear?"
Both officers were beaming at him, but Palleon could see the resignation in their eyes. They had accepted their destiny and would endure any humiliation if only it got them what they had decided would be their fate. By reducing them to civilians Thrawn had just freed them of their duties and obligations toward a superior officer. Hence the smiles.
"Clear," Sujar said with a nod. "And now get out of here."
Throwing a last look at the gunners, Thrawn gave them a text-book salute. "We will not forget your sacrifice," he told them sincerely, and whirled around to leave.
As he followed in his wake Palleon could see pride and triumph on every face they left behind. He tried to memorize each single one, but the one thing he regretted too was that he had noticed Sujar's competence and leadership qualities only so late. He would have made a fine admiral.
Thrawn was already ahead of him, and was soon swallowed by the stream of personnel drifting toward the escape pods of the command deck. The captain had no fear of losing the admiral in the crowd, though. All he had to do was to follow the cheers.
Watching the Executor's death throes through his macrobinoculars, Admiral Parck felt his heart ache with grief. The Super Star Destroyer was plunging toward the planet's surface unchecked in a dazzling display of tiny explosions as it hit space mine after space mine. Then the tip of the bow touched the planet's atmosphere and vanished in a blinding flash of light. She would not burn completely, though, he knew. Most of her dead bulk would crash into the planet in a few hours time. Lowering the binoculars Parck turned toward General Sa'lym'a and Naas Deron. The Sith Lord's face was drawn tightly into a feral snarl, while the Chiss remained impassive. A distant boom rolled over the fortress, startling them.
"Something hit," Puket, who was standing right behind the Admiral, commented quietly.
"None of ours," Sa'lym'a suggested. "The Executor won't hit until morning."
"No, but it is still one of ours," Deron added, a smile lighting up his face. "Come, we need to pick them up!" he told his companion and they both turned away from the ground troop commanders.
Uncomprehending, the admiral watched the two Sith warriors leave. He nodded at his
second tiredly and handed the macrobinoculars to a waiting aide. "All right. Let's give them a hard one down here."
Directing the shuttle through the mine field had been a hairy affair, as hairy as shielding the armored hull during the passage through the planet's atmosphere. But he had managed, and landing the shuttle now was no problem. There was, after all, only one way to go. Down.
The ship settled on the ground with a boom, flattening a few trees as it crashed into the surface, barely slowed by Anakin's efforts. Once it had come to rest he scrambled over the seats and equipment that had been torn from their places. Checking on the crew briefly he confirmed their deaths dispassionately. Three more to add to today's long list of casualties.
The exit hatch was jammed tight, so he decided to put his lightsaber to some use. The glowing red blade sheared through hull and armor magnificently and finally he dropped down onto the mossy underground, scanning his surroundings warily. By his estimate he was miles away from the fortress and it was almost completely dark. No sense in wasting his strength. They would come pick him up, he knew. Naas Deron was a shining beacon of obsidian light in his mind, and the Sith Lord and former student of Chi'in seemed confident and focused. He could find the Dark Lord easily.
With a sigh Anakin dropped down on his haunches, cleansing his mind of any thought. Just for a moment he wanted to forget the devastating defeat he and the Grand Admiral had suffered here, today. They had been surprised ...
No. No more. Just peace, for now. Closing his eyes he saw the Executor's bridge tower explode again. With a gasp he reopened his eyes once more – and stared. A tall figure loomed over him, indistinct in the shadows of Nirauan's night, but Anakin knew at first glance who had come to taunt him.
"You are here," he stated icily. "A foolish move, I should say."
Roj Kell moved a little bit closer. His white hair seemed grimy and gray with dirt, and in places it appeared to be clogged with dried blood. He looked a mess, and he was walking as if in a trance. Yet the light in his pale eyes was as strong as ever.
"A foolish move, I agree," he replied softly and Anakin shuddered at the sound of that enchanting voice. So many layers to his tone, so many inflections.
"I heard what happened on Byss," the Dark Lord continued hoarsely. "You killed your son."
Taking a deep breath the old man leaned forward, his hands propped against his thighs to hold himself upright. He closed his eyes briefly, as if to gather strength, then opened them again to gaze straight at the Dark Lord. "Killing Irek was the least of what I have done over the past few weeks. Perhaps, in time, you will find out about the rest. I for one pray you never will."
"More surprises?" the Dark Lord asked bitterly.
"So afraid," Kell whispered softly. "So paralysed with uncertainty. Perhaps I have overestimated you."
Moving lightning quick, Anakin caught the old man's throat in a hard grip. "Not another word from you!" he hissed. "You are responsible for this disaster! You betrayed us!"
"There is no betrayal without loyalty, Skywalker. And my loyalty surely never was to the New Republic. Or the Chiss."
Unfortunately that was all too true. Anakin gritted his teeth. "Why did you come?"
"I came for you."
Anakin released the other with a disgusted grunt. "Your games are getting boring."
"Games," the ancient Sith hissed and suddenly his bony fingers dug into the Dark Lord's shoulders. "You believe this is a game to me?"
He leaned very close, so close that Anakin could smell his warm breath, that carried the distinct aroma of blood and death. He was regarding the Dark Lord intently, and Anakin turned his head away, not wanting to meet those disturbing eyes. Kell gave a low chuckle and relaxed his grip before he dropped down next to Anakin in an easy crouch.
"What do you want?" he asked harshly and egded away a bit.
"Your son is alive."
"What?" Staring at the ancient Sith in surprise Anakin immediately scolded himself for letting the old man put him off guard with his deliberately sparse comments. "Have you seen him?"
"Yes." Roj Kell leaned his head back to look up into the sky, to watch the battle die down gradually. "Your fleet is retreating, it would seem."
"Yes. So?"
"They will lauch ground troops, wear down your defenses over time, capture you, perhaps. Take you as slaves."
"What do you care?"
"No one should be forced to submit to someone else's rule. But neither should one be punished for one's beliefs."
The Dark Lord frowned. "You told Thrawn that they are heretics. Then you corrected yourself again and named them fools," Anakin said quietly. "Would you be willing to be a bit more precise?"
"I call them Ju Vong, little slaves," Kell whispered, amused. "They are not like you and me. They lead miserable little lives and never realize what they are missing."
"What are they missing?"
"Freedom. What else? It is a caste society, based on a weird notion of life."
"And some fervent belief."
"Some fervent belief, yes." The ancient Sith's tone turned pensive. "I have seen their kind before. Pawns in the hands of madmen who sought to pursue their own dreams of glory." Turning his eyes toward Anakin he gave the Dark Lord a sly wink and a smile. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
"You are talking about the Massassi, am I right?"
"In a sense. Yes."
"How can we defeat them?"
Roj Kell smiled, and their eyes met across the millennia that separated them. For a moment the Dark Lord could see someone else in the ancient Sith's features, someone who had no concept of fear, of anger, of death to obscure his vision. This someone could see with breathtaking clarity, and had long given up on trying to change anything. A hand, sinewy and incredibly strong, locked around the back of his neck. For a tiny moment Anakin felt his heart stop in dread. This was not something he could fight. It was too close, too personal... Looking into Kell's pale eyes he could see his own future, and more.
"Expose their gods for what they are," the old Sith Lord said softly. "Show them that they are mere slaves of their own making." He gave a soft laugh. "They believe the highest honor is to die in battle, in service of their gods. And they pretend to worship life when they dare to shape living beings to become their weapons, their everything. Their leaders realize how hollow their belief is, but it is convenient. Very convenient. Once you take that certainty from them you must fill their empty hearts again. You can do it, Skywalker."
"I am not so sure," Anakin whispered.
He could sense the urgency in the other's words, the hope and longing. It felt wrong, somehow, to hear them out of his old nemesis' mouth, but he knew them to be true.
Reinforcing his grip on his neck Kell drew him closer and the Dark Lord tensed in dread anticipation.
"I am certain," Kell insisted. "I have tested your strength, your heart, your mind. You are the one. You have been chosen a long time ago. And I entrust this secret to you, and you alone. Sometimes a sacrifice is greater than one can imagine, sometimes more painful. It helps to put the pain away. But one day it will come back and destroy you. The key is truth, Anakin. Only that."
When he drew away again the Dark Lord clasped his hand in a hard grip, holding him tightly. "Stay with us," he pleaded hoarsely. "We could use your knowledge."
Roj Kell smiled at him, before he gently freed his hand. "You know all you must, Anakin. The rest of the answers you will have to find on your own. Just like I did." A dreamy look appeared in his pale eyes. "Perhaps it will help you understand when you look back on your past. I know it helped me to find the truth at last."
Scrambling to his feet hurriedly, Anakin stood facing the ancient Sith, suddenly feeling uncertain. Their eyes met in silence, and he could see peace in the old man's gaze. It put him at ease again, and gradually his confidence returned. He realized that they would not meet again, yet he did not feel relief or triumph at that revelation. All he felt was calm. He gave the ancient Sith a tiny bow, feeling that it was the appropriate gesture to say farewell.
Returning his gesture, Roj Kell brought his left hand up to touch his own chest just above his heart. For a moment his dark-clad figure was surrounded by an aura of golden light, a soft sheen that glimmered in the night. It threw shadows across his face, strange shadows, that made him look much different, savage, even. Gradually the light focused, until it was a fist-sized glowing sphere that hovered above Kell's left hand. He gazed down at it with wonder, reverent. Anakin was spellbound by the display. His eyes were locked on the golden sphere, watching the light it contained twist and eddy through the confined space, as if searching for some way to escape. The ancient Sith's enchanting voice insinuated itself in his own thoughts, a reflection of what he could see in that light, just as glorious and beautiful.
"To be Cor'dan is to be both of the light and the darkness. It means giving birth as well as being the end of all life. To be Cor'dan is to be the essence of being, the eye of the storm. It also means remaining true to one's ideals." Roj Kell smiled. "A rule you should find easy to follow, Lord Vader."
Anakin felt himself stiffen at being addressed by his old title. "I will do my best."
"That's all I ask." Kell gently guided the sphere towards the Dark Lord, a pristine offering. The gesture itself was so full of meaning that Anakin felt his mouth run dry. "The light of the Force," the ancient Sith continued. "A first taste of the power that will command you once I am gone." He arched his eyebrows in a silent warning. "Once you accept it, there is no way back. I leave the choice to you."
Wetting his lips nervously, Anakin met the old man's eyes again. "Were you given a choice?"
"I was raised to become Cor'dan. There never was any doubt in my mind once the time had come. And I have not regretted that decision since. It is a heavy burden, and it will not grant you peace. But it is worth everything." Kell threw him one of his mocking smiles and tossed his head back with a laugh, that made him appear much younger, almost boyish. "In fact, Skywalker, it is everything."
Anakin felt his mind race. You have been chosen a long time ago. His thoughts congealed into a mass of disbelieving confusion. He remembered the prophecy, remembered Kell's off-hand interpretation of those ancient words. That the secret was inner balance. Once that was accomplished, true balance could be achieved on any other level. A new era. A new beginning. And it had begun three thousand years ago, with the birth of this troublesome magician, who had spent all of his life in preparation for this very night. Anakin wondered if Kell had realized at some point throughout the millennia, why he had been granted the gift of what came close to immortality. Well, he thought wrily, of course he had.
When the ancient Sith stepped closer, so close that they were almost touching, Anakin closed his eyes in timid reverence. Kell spoke softly, almost a whisper, but his tone was full of heated menace. "All that I know I cede to you to use as you see fit. Do not disappoint me. I shall be very displeased if you should dare sully my legacy with foolish games and useless powerplays."
Anakin broke into helpless chuckles. "Never worry about that," he returned.
"Your decision?"
The gentle look in those pale eyes, the chiming echoes racing the deep hum of distant shadows that accompanied that magical voice, broke the Dark Lord out of his uncertainty. Nodding slowly, he raised his hands toward the glowing sphere that hovered above Kell's left shoulder tentatively. When his fingertips touched the light he was surprised to find it warm and very soft, delicate, like a newborn. Meeting Kell's gaze he was taken aback for a moment, to see the golden glow reflected in the other's eyes, but then, gradually, it vanished again, at the same rate that the sphere took to disappear into the Dark Lord's skin, merging with his very being. It was an avalanche of emotion, of pictures and sounds, of smells and different tastes. It was overwhelming.
The aftermath of the bonding left him panting on his knees. When he had gathered his strength once more, his body shaking all over and tears streaming down his face from the experience, he looked up to find Roj Kell gone. And with a clarity that was frightening, he knew what was going to happen, and what he was going to do. Rising to his feet unsteadily, he smiled grimly into the night. So he had taken the last step, had forfeited all rules for this single one. Truth.
"Beware the Sith," he told the world in general, and he laughed out loud, when he realized the magnitude of it all. "Beware indeed."
"All on board!" Teer Shikay announced as he turned toward Lorth Needa.
The captain nodded in acknowledgement. "Full retreat. Let's get out of here."
The Eisenhart had fought her way through the battle field valiantly, leading the remaining ships on a direct trajectory heading for Miecona. The Yuuzhan Vong fleet was following in hot pursuit, but Needa had ordered his troops to put first priority on escpae. That way there would be some ships left to strike back at all. When the Star Destroyer accelerated to lightspeed he felt as if he left a part of himself behind. But they'd had no choice. The enemy had slaughtered them badly, and he could be lucky if he would arrive at Miecona with a third of his fleet intact. He feared he would be left with even less. It was infuriating that he had not been able to counter the Yuuzhan Vong's coordinated attack more effectively, but then, he had been thoroughly surprised by their defenses. Whatever it was that had stripped the fighters of their shields and had even managed to pull down the Executor, he vowed to find out how to get around it the next time they engaged the enemy.
Space around them turned into the bright starlines of hyperspace and Needa rose from his seat to retire from the bridge. Teer Shikay was watching him as warily as the rest of his bridge crew, but neither said a word. They knew that his level-headedness had saved them from being utterly destroyed, but they were also wondering whether he was adept enough to continue the fight. Yet that did not concern him right now. He needed some time to be alone, some time to digest what had happened. And even if that only meant twenty minutes of peace. As it turned out he would not get to enjoy that badly craved solitude.
On his way down the main corridor that led away from the bridge he was stopped by the sound of approaching feet, boot-soles hammering over the polished deck unstoppably. He felt his mind freeze into nothingness when two men came into view, trailing an entire contingent of troopers and technicians.
"Grand Admiral!" he exclaimed, joy flooding his entire being. "Welcome on board!" He had to hurry to join with the admiral's entourage as they filed past him, and he did not bother to wipe the silly grin from his face that had appeared there the moment he had realized that the Force meant well for him and would spare him the responsibility of waging a war on his own.
"Excellent work out there, Admiral Needa," Thrawn told him, but did not turn his head to look at him.
The captain-promoted-admiral felt his jaw drop, and his step faltered. But a smiling Gilead Palleon hooked an arm around his shoulders and dragged him along, back onto the bridge, where a ragged cheer went up for the three battered commanders.
Standing amidst the beaming bridge crew of the New Republic Star Destroyer Eisenhart Grand Admiral Thrawn stood silently, his arms crossed behind his back, his glowing eyes filled with a quiet power that infected them all. A grim smile spread on his features when the cries of joy and pride began to die down once more.
"We may have lost this battle," he told them quietly, "but thanks to Admiral Needa here, we can fight another day. In fact, we will return to Nirauan in exactly six standard hours." That shut even the most persistent of the cheering crowd up effectively. There were long faces all around. Fear and confusion spread out over the bridge, and even Lorth Needa could feel it nag at his heart. But the Grand Admiral continued, smiling. "We will catch the enemy unawares, ladies and gentlemen," he explained, his smooth voice sounding somehow eerie against the background of what they all had just been through. But Needa could see the sense in this maneuver. The Yuuzhan Vong fleet thought them defeated. They would indeed be surprised.
"May the stars witness their utter destruction," he whispered, loud enough for all to hear. Again the cheers rose up, enfolding the captain whole. He met the Grand Admiral's gaze with a smile of his own. Amidst the joyful celebration he realized that they had indeed only begun this war.
And so they descended upon the remaining ships of the Yuuzhan Vong fleet with a vengeance, a strafing run that tore through the alien troop carriers descending toward Nirauan's surface viciously. Standing next to the Grand Admiral's command chair on the left side, with Gilead Palleon flanking it to the right, Lorth Needa watched the enemy scramble in panic.
"That should give us enough material to start with," Thrawn told them softly as they completed the run. He turned his head toward the sensor officer and ordered: "Cease recording now, Lieutenant."
The man hesitated only for the fraction of a second, his eyes fixed not on his readouts, but instead on the forward viewport. Following his gaze Needa again felt his heart ache. The Executor had begun her long fall down toward the planet's surface, a dagger plunging straight toward the heart of their defenses. And just like everyone else present on the bridge he wondered whether their comrades would hold out long enough.
"This is not over," the Grand Admiral said quietly, his cool, smooth voice filling the silent bridge easily. "Not by a long shot."
TBC