Chapter 32 – The Art of War
She was truly learning something new with every day she spent in captivity aboard the Warmaster's worldship. Although she had not yet met Marayl Carr himself, Yana made sure that Alyn Cha revealed tidbits about the Warmaster's strategy once in a while. Instead of forcing her captors to employ torture to make her talk, Yana had resolved to play the arrogant, slightly unimaginative Empress, asking stupid questions and teasing her jailers with boisterous comments. Already Alyn Cha was suspecting her of pursuing certain goals, but Yana was careful to push the priestess' suspicions in the right direction. She hoped, oh she hoped very much, that by now the New Republic would know that she had been captured, that they would expose Hah Kima as a traitor and use the Seeker to work with her, to work against the Yuuzhan Vong.
Her trusted spy was Roganda, who was still serving the shaper Ly Sul as best as she could. But her controller was dissatisfied with Roganda's knowledge and had resorted to using her only as interpreter when he questioned Yana. Soon, he had promised, he would have her implanted with a tyzoworm of her own, and then she would replace Roganda for good. It was clear to the Empress how much his words must have scared and hurt Roganda, whose sole hope was her continued usefulness for the shaper. And Yana did not want to lose her friend, not now.
Her conversations with Ly Sul, if they could be called conversations at all, had yielded some interesting findings, after all. First, she now had clear evidence of the shapers' heresy, and proof, that told her that the Yuuzhan Vong indeed came from this very galaxy. If she understood correctly, everything unnatural was a blasphemy, and every sacrifice supposed to advance the worthy toward a status that brought them closer to their gods. But if everything unnatural was blasphemy, why then did the Yuuzhan Vong create living tools? Did they believe those natural? She had seen other Yuuzhan Vong, servants, she had thought at first, before Ly Sul had enlightened her as to their true status. They were Shamed Ones, whose bodies rejected the modifications that made each sect unique, and they were little more than slaves. To Yana, those were the real Yuuzhan Vong. Everyone else was just pretending.
Of course, her captors would see that differently, but her goal was not necessarily to show understanding of their customs, but to annoy and confuse them. So, when she was once more brought before the priestess Alyn Cha, the Empress gave the female a thin smile.
"More information, priestess? I thought I had already given you everything you could use to your advantage."
"The infidels will convene a council of war," Alyn Cha told her, ignoring Yana's comment. "We will not need you further, once we have established our own agents with that council."
Raising her brows, the Empress gave the other a startled look. "Oh? How unfortunate. You underestimate our warlords if you believe they will listen to what that council says."
Alyn Cha stared at her. "I recognise your attempt at diversion, Yana Dar," she said at last. "You do not wish to die."
"I doubt sacrificing me would gain you any more insight than sacrificing Roj Kell did."
"Marayl Carr was wrong to sacrifice this one to the gods so soon," the priestess growled. "My spies tell me that there may be a way to recover his knowledge, though."
"Hah Kima told you about the Seeker, didn't he?"
"Yes. When our allies gain control of this Seeker we will be able to better forsee your warlords' actions."
"If. Not when. I doubt Hah Kima knows where the Seeker is. And the counselor won't tell him."
Alyn Cha smiled. "He already has told him. The world is called Nar Shadaa."
"You will like it," Yana retorted grimly. "It is full of what you call abominations."
Her thoughts were racing. So they knew where the Seeker was! But surely Karrde would anticipate this? But he did not even know that Hah Kima had betrayed them! And if the Yuuzhan Vong really inserted their own spy into the council of war... While Thrawn and the Dark Lord would ultimately make their own choices, the council would undoubtedly be discussing their tactics nevertheless. Wait. Calming down again she tried to control her rapidly beating heart. This was the Seeker she was thinking about, a highly advanced program, and it was in the hands of a man she had often admired for his quick wits and gut feeling.
Talon Karrde would know what to do. And she knew that her people had done an excellent job on refining the Seeker. Unbidden, images of Abla rose in front of her inner eye, as he was seated in front of his com pad, totally focused on his task. The way he had always spared a smile for her, no matter how stressful his work might become. Yana shook those memories off determinedly. The Seeker was as close to its natural counterpart as could be. Without its deviousness and inclination to keeping secrets and playing games. At least that was what she hoped. Now, if Karrde knew what was going on, if the Seeker had given him the advice she thought it would give, then Hah Kima's spies would be in for a nasty surprise.
Looking up demurely to face Alyn Cha she put a tremble in her voice as she said: "You will not win."
The priestess did not react. Instead she rose abruptly, her gaze fixed on something behind Yana. Bowing deeply, she said something in her own tongue, and the Empress felt her skin tighten in apprehension.
"So, the infidel is still confident in our ultimate defeat?" The voice was male, and Yana needed no introductions to know that it was the voice of Marayl Carr. "Your priest also believed that his gods would save him, that they would destroy us. But it is our gods that will doom you and your kind."
Yana let her hatred for these creatures and their perverse belief run freely through her heart, and when she turned around to face the Warmaster a feral smile was painted across her features, and her blue eyes were sparkling with a power she had denied for so long.
"Your gods," she declared, in a tone that was all cold steel and hot wrath, "are dead. Your gods, Marayl Carr, were destroyed hundreds of years ago. You will never even come close to what they embodied, no matter how hard you try. They are dead, defeated, and you have forsaken their rule for the petty gods you have found convenient to continue your perverse antics."
"For this blasphemy you shall die," he hissed, and one of his attendants, a bulky warrior as ugly as any she had seen, immediately darted forward, ready to kill the Empress.
But Yana stood her ground unafraid, her anger so cold that she felt no fear at all. Watching the creature advance on her dispassionately, she found herself sucked into a black hole of darkness, its icy edges cutting her mind, to reveal the destructive emotions she had hidden behind her intellect. She had always known the dangers they presented, had seen them eat her father alive, until he had been a creature of madness, but she had learned to dance the blade between sanity and chaos since Abla's death.
The warrior stopped his headlong plunge with a shriek, as his body was being ripped apart with cold precision. Once she was finished, the thing that lay twitching on the deck bore no resemblence to the warrior at all.
Yana smiled. "Am I not merciful, Marayl Carr? Am I not generous? To give him this last honor and make him a resemblance of the great Yun-Yammka! A mockery!" she added in a hiss. "You fools! Do I have to kill you one by one to show you the true glory of your gods?"
The Warmaster stared at her, just as rigid as Alyn Cha, who gazed down at the trembling body at their feet with horror.
"But you are right, Alyn Cha," the Empress continued. "I do not wish to die. My father made promises to you, did he not? I want you to hold to these promises, even though I know you never meant to, when Hah Kima came to you to negotiate this deal. But if you deal with me," she purred, "you'd better be sincere." She stepped over the warrior's corpse delicately, her gaze fixed on Marayl Carr. Once she stood before him she reached out to run a hand along his artificially broken jaw almost tenderly. "Will you perform that service for your gods?" she asked, her voice sweet as honey.
"Hah Kima negotiated for the freedom of your Empire," the Warmaster growled, and slapped her hand away.
"I thought so," she replied calmly.
"In exchange he agreed to deliver information to us, vital information that will help us defeat the infidels of your galaxy."
"Including those of my Empire, of course."
His eyes flickered ominously, caught in the lie, but in the end he snorted contemptuously: "Of course! You are all infidels! But maybe," he added, calmer than before, "you would be worthy enough to join us, Empress Yana Dar."
"Join you?" she asked sweetly, a smile playing over her lips. "A delicious offer. I will ... consider it."
Anakin Skywalker had not felt so happy in the cockpit of a starfighter ever since he had had to give up the thrill of flying in combat for the no less adrenaline-packed battles fought on a star ship's bridge. Yet it just wasn't comparable. Out here he was in the midst of the fight, leaving the tactics to Needa, who had proven his ability to keep a cool head more than once in the past, and who could handle a standard situation very easily. Just as the admiral had predicted, an enemy fleet had moved out of hyperspace to engage them a little less than three hours after Anakin and his team had arrived on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Starhammer, Needa's new flagship. The Dark Lord had been suitably awed at the Grand Admiral's plans, that had the Yuuzhan Vong jumping to his tune, whether they wanted it or not. They were given no choice but to pursue and attack the Chiss-New Republic Alliance. This battle at Lounia had been planned days ago, and every hand on board the ships of Needa's task force knew exactly what they were to do.
While the capital ships were engaging the enemy's heavy cruisers, Anakin and his companions were taking the modified TIE's out for practice. The small fighters' maneuverability was legendary, even though the additional, pock-marked surface counterbalanced some of it and it was certainly no match for an Interceptor, but Anakin enjoyed the ease with which his craft reacted to every tiny move he made on the yoke. Naas Deron and Puket were acting as his wing-mates, while Andarack had taken on the task of coordinating their flight. Needa had not wanted to give the Noghri full control of the entire mass of star fighters he had sent out into battle, understandably. But then, Andarack's flight had a special assignment. While the rest of the alliance's fighters employed the cross-fire tactics the pilots had nick-named the Web of Doom, to Anakin's great amusement, the ten fighters under the Noghri's command were flying attacks against the smaller cruisers.
"Black Flight, I have some anomalies heading for your position," Andarack announced calmly. "Lord Skywalker, could you identify those?"
"Grutchins," Anakin's memories supplied instantly. "They are the things Needa told us about. Let's see how they fare against our new shielding."
Diving for the midst of the grutchin swarm aimed at them, with Deron and Puket right behind, Anakin braced himself for the first impact. When it came, the TIE took a dizzying spin that failed to dislodge the first grutchin, and more struggled to get a hold on the hull. Continuing the spin, Anakin concentrated on the grutchins that seemed to try to get at the only heat-sources available on the small craft. The engines, and the pilot. Anakin stopped spinning, and waited calmly for more of those things to lodge onto his ship. He called them with a tantalizing image of heat and food.
"Hey, Black Lead! What the hell are you doing?" Deron shouted over the comm, his own TIE making a corkscrew pass.
"Inviting them over for dinner," Anakin replied with a smile. "All right," he added to himself. Let's see how you like this."
He activated the sensor-supported shielding, and instantly spikes shot forth from the secondary hull that had been added to the original, spearing the grutchins with mechanical precision. As expected, the sharp spikes broke through the grutchins' heavy armor and exposed their innards to the merciless cold of space, freezing the insects from the inside. The design was such, that not all spikes were activated at once, but the sensors selected the location of the anomalies on the hull and acted with pin-point accuracy. Hitting another button, Anakin retracted the spikes once more, and the dead insects fell away into open space.
"It works," he whispered to himself. "Good. Now let's see if we can crack the dovin basals."
The dovin basals were a most effective shielding, creating gravitational anomalies that simply swallowed torpedos or absorbed laser fire. Heavy cross-fire worked here too, but it took far too long, to take out a cruiser, or even a worldship that way. Therefore they had to find a faster way to knock the dovin basals out. Needa had suggested sending torpedos out and trigger them prematurely, so that the explosion and fragments might irritate the basals. It was worth a try.
"Black Flight, move in for target," Andarack ordered calmly, and the destined ship's coordinates came up on Anakin's fighter's screen instantly. It was a smaller ship, and the ten TIEs dove toward it instantly, to form a loose sphere around the ship. The idea was to split up, have one group draw the enemy fire and have another set of fighters take out the distracted dovin basals. But then another order came in.
Watching the screens in front of him attentively, Lorth Needa also kept an ear open for the reports coming in from his commanders. Andarack's order caught his attention, because of the Noghri's flight's experimental missions out on the battle-field. With a slight frown, he checked the ship Andarack had assigned his flight as next target and watched the ten TIEs move in for the kill. Cutting into the flight's transmission channel instantly, Needa braced himself for a rebuke, but went ahead anyway.
"Black Flight, this is Needa. Abandon target."
To his great surprise and relief they followed his order instantly, just before two more enemy cruisers, that had only been waiting for the flight to take that bait, reached the site. Across the bridge, he risked a look at the Noghri standing at his command station, looking perplexed. But then the alien gave him an appreciative nod and resumed his command.
"It seems I have a lot to learn yet," Andarack told his pilots wrily. "All right. Let's leave this to Blue and Red."
Indeed, having anticipated the intent of the three enemy cruisers already a few minutes back, the admiral had sent those flights on their way to knock that trap out instantly. Andarack had almost ruined that assignment. Well, no hard feelings there, the Noghri was, after all, new to this sort of battle.
"Excellent timing, Admiral," the Dark Lord's voice told him over the command channel the two of them shared. "Could you have Red and Blue make that run the way we planned?"
"Of course. And could you bring your pilots' attention on the cruiser starboard of your position? They're trying to sneak behind your formation."
"Already registered. Stand by your starboard batteries."
Needa smiled and nodded at Andarack to relay that order on the official Black Flight channel. The Noghri seemd just a bit flustered, but then he seemed to catch up on the drift the two commanders were managing this battle. Red and Blue were picking up Black Flight's aborted mission and Black Flight itself veered off to take care of the threat that snuck up on them from behind. The task force's flagship was still busy pummeling the largest cruiser the enemy fleet had to offer, not a worldship, but still heavy on the firepower. The enemy's goal was to keep the alliance's capital ships occupied, and Needa obliged happily, having his own heavy cruisers concentrate on their weight class.
But just as Black Flight made a first, furious pass at the smaller cruiser, Needa gave order for the starboard gunners to send torpedos right down the flight's trail. As expected, the dovin basals of the enemy cruiser followed the TIEs' fire and were taken completely by surprise, when the torpedos impacted against the fairly unprotected hull. Needa left the TIEs to finish that ship. Meanwhile Blue and Red had knocked out one of the three cruisers and were proceeding to take out another, with the Blackblade, another Star Destroyer, covering their run.
"Captain Feynhard, how far are we with the sensory data?" Needa asked his new second, a short, middle-aged man, without averting his gaze from the radar screens.
"We have Probe One's data," the captain replied pensively. "Do you want to wait for confirmation, sir?" The probes had been sent out to collect data on the kinetic energy, mass and weight of the plasma bolts hurled at their ships.
"Yes. One more try. Once that's in, have the operators set to finetuning the tractor beams instantly."
"As ordered, Admiral."
It had been one of the Dark Lord's ideas, to use the enemy's advantages against them. One of many ideas. Another would be tested very soon.
"Admiral, the dovin basals remained stationary on Red Flight's last run," General Hxenti, aboard the Blackblade, reported hurriedly.
"They are learning," Needa agreed. "Very well. Blue and Red Flight will join with Black Flight. Have Commander Eilos take over control for all three flights. Skywalker, Deron and Puket are to report directly to him and rely the coordinates for their torpedos. Andarack clan Rim'kai," he called out quietly, and the Noghri joined him without making any noise.
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Commander Eilos is taking over the coordination of Red, Blue and Black Flight. You will assist the Starhammer's gunners with target identification for this heavy cruiser up front."
"Yes, sir."
The Sith turned away to hurry over to join General Mallayka, the Starhammer's gunnery liaison on the bridge.
"Admiral, Probe Two has reported in. I have the operators work on the tractor beam settings now," Captain Feynhard piped up.
"Excellent. Commander Eilos, in your own time, please," Needa told his commanders calmly and almost jumped when the three flights burst into instant action.
The huge cruiser up front was preparing to throw another set of plasma projectiles at the Starhammer's shields – visible on the heat sensors of the Star Destroyer's bridge – and just as the enemy ship's ducts opened to spew deadly molten rock at the Star Destroyer, three things happened. Five tractor beams locked on five different plasma ducts, and Needa had to admire the three Sith with Black Flight for their pinpoint accurate target prediction. Immediately Red and Blue Flight swarmed in to take out the dovin basals that had already toned down on their gravity manipulation to let the plasma pass.
Two tractor beams held on to a ball of plasma that had just left its exit duct, and almost immediately a torpedo fired from the Blackblade's forward batteries, timed perfectly with the deactivation of the tractor beams, shattered the glob of molten rock into tiny pieces. Momentarily confused, the dovin basals were too late to avert a volley of torpedos, that tore into the cruiser's hull mercilessly. By then the Starhammer's gunners had also started firing on the patch of unprotected hull the TIEs had opened up. In a set of further inner explosions, the large enemy cruiser broke apart.
"Good work," the admiral whispered, realizing only now how lucky he had been at Nirauan. "Good work!" he repeated, louder this time, for all to hear. "Now let's finish the rest."
Let the Sith be your eyes and ears, Naas Deron had offered the Grand Admiral weeks ago on Nirauan. And they were becoming just that. For a moment Needa felt incredibly powerful, to have so deadly an ally with him, under his command. With the help of the Dark Lord and his disciples they could wipe out the entire Yuuzhan Vong fleet with ease. With sudden abruptness he realized the danger that lay in that thought. The danger of misusing the powers that the Sith were giving willingly in defense of their home. Exhaling slowly, the admiral leaned back in his seat, shocked at his own fervent reaction to this victory. He shook his head ever so slowly, trying to get rid of that feeling of ultimate power, of an unlimited desire for vengeance. They could do so much ...
"Sir, Black Flight is taking course for the Starhammer. They wish to come aboard."
"What?" Looking up at Feynhard, Needa guiltily thought that the Dark Lord might have picked up on his feelings. Well, if he had, all the better. They needed to talk about this. "Yes, of course. They will need some rest, I assume. Let them come aboard, Captain. Commander Eilos, what's your status?"
"All intact and ready for more, Admiral."
"Excellent. Black Flight will retire for a short break. For the next battle I want you to set a schedule for every flight that's out there."
"Yes, sir. Will do. Eilos out."
Closing his eyes briefly, Lorth Needa felt almost scared, as he pondered the temptation his new position offered. Finally, he rose from his seat. He could not retire from the bridge in the middle of a battle, even though this one was dying down fast. But he very much wanted to. I am not cut out for this, he thought desperately. Things had been so much simpler when he had served as the Dark Lord's second. Much simpler.
By the time the pilots of Black Flight were ready to go out again there was nothing to do anymore, and so Anakin decided to pay a visit to the Starhammer's medical facilities. There had not been any time to get a replacement for his artificial arm before the Yuuzhan Vong had engaged them, but now he might find some. He was just discussing the prosthesis' finer details with the medic responsible for such replacement surgery, when Lorth Needa appeared, looking slightly nervous. Anakin knew all too well what was bothering the admiral.
"Lord Skywalker, I need to talk to you," the man began, then looked at the medic pointedly, "in private."
"I will be checking what parts we have available," the doctor replied smoothly, and left without another word or waiting for a reply.
Anakin took a seat on one of the chairs standing around, and was joined reluctantly by the admiral himself. "You know what this is about?"
"I could not help but notice your outburst back there," Anakin confirmed quietly. "What was going wrong?"
"It is the responsibility," Needa claimed, but the Dark Lord knew it was something different. "I am just not the man for this sort of job."
"You performed very well alongside General Dodonna with the Rebel Alliance, and you were an excellent captain before that. You had no problem taking responsibility. You acted all on your own on Chandrila and Tatooine, too, and you led a sizeable task force for the past year at the borders practically alone."
"Chandrila and Tatooine were different. I was truly alone then, without any responsibility safe for keeping your wife out of the Empire's clutches. But now I have to deal with leading an entire fleet on my responsibility. I find that I am losing my cool." Turning sad eyes on him, Needa hesitated for a moment. "I am not fit to be an admiral. I need the reassurance of being second, of being answerable to someone. This way," he made a vage gesture, "this way I feel there is no limit to what I could do."
But Anakin wasn't really listening. Instead he remembered what he had done to Needa over a year ago, when he had used the then captain as bait for Grand Admiral Thrawn. He had bonded with him, made a tiny portion of Needa's mind his. He very much feared that the effects of that violation were showing only now. Guiltily, he averted his eyes, and thought about what to do.
"I fear I am responsible for that;" he confessed.
"How so?" Needa asked, bewildered.
"You are not aware of this yourself, but do you remember when I sent you out to Chandrila to meet with Governor Tieman?"
"You said I would be protected," the admiral mused aloud. Then his eyes widened with revelation. "And later Tomas Piett told me that you were using me to communicate with Thrawn in secret..."
"Yes. It is strictly forbidden for a Jedi to do this sort of thing, but I ... I am no Jedi any longer. Back then I was more of a Dark Jedi than I am now, I believe."
"So I am what – turning to the Dark Side?" Needa said with a nervous laugh.
"Perhaps."
"What?"
"It is your decision. And I regret that I have done this to you, I regret it very much. It seemed logical at that time. I was not – thinking ahead."
Needa gave him a pleading glance. No accusation, no anger, no rant. The man's loyalty to him was simply astounding, and it drove the spike of guilt even deeper into Anakin's heart.
"I am sorry," he whispered, not knowing what else to say.
"And that is all? There must be something you can do. You must take command over this task force. I beg you! I can live with being second. I have been second throughout all of my career."
"You deserve better, Admiral."
Needa's shoulder slumped. "I do not know. Not like this. I feel helpless. Afraid."
"Don't we all, at some point of our lives?"
"You are tempting me," Needa said accusingly.
Anakin shrugged. "You decide whether to give in to temptation or not."
"What if I give in?" the admiral whispered, now truly scared.
"Your subordinates would reject you, as well as your superiors. You would be an outcast, loathed, feared. Some might even call you a madman."
"I would not want that," Needa declared, heart-felt.
"Then you must get over this crisis, Admiral. I will help you, but I will not take over command. Changing the commander now would not be good for the troops' morale. They respect you. You have impressed them at Nirauan."
"They respect you, too, Lord Skywalker."
"Nevertheless, I object your decision. You will stay in command of this fleet."
"Can't you make this undone?"
"It is hard to break that bond, and I would not want to make you less than what you were. I trust in your resolve and your ideals to overcome this, Admiral. Do not disappoint me."
Needa gave him a brave smile. "No sir, I won't."
"Good." Rising from his seat, Anakin looked down upon the shorter man with compassion, as Needa stood also. "You can do it, Admiral. I know you can. And now you should get some rest."
Needa gave him a dejected nod and started to leave. Watching him, Anakin could practically see him change from an emotional wreck to a determined commander, who left the room with shoulders straight and head high. He would manage. For now, they still had a war to fight, and he had to get a new arm.
"Admiral, can you spare a moment?"
Startled out of his dark broodings, as he had been making his way back to the bridge, Needa looked up to find Puket standing in front of him. "Of course," he managed. Falling into step with the Sith warrior he asked: "What is it?"
"While you were busy up here Naas has been getting an update on the Grand Admiral's plans, and noticed an order we received half an hour ago from Thrawn's task force."
"The two task forces are communicating solely through messengers."
Puket nodded. "Yes. This came over the security channels. Naas was trying to rouse Lord Skywalker for a meeting. But Lord Skywalker is about to undergo replacement surgery, so he wants to discuss this with you first."
She led him into Security and together they entered a small cubicle, where the dark-haired Sith was busy studying the task force's layout and comparing it to what data he had of the entire fleet under the Grand Admiral's command. "Have a look, Admiral," he said without preamble and waved Needa closer.
Leaning over the other's shoulder Lorth Needa squinted at the data displayed on the screen before him. It was a list of the task force's ships, as well as of the whole fleet. Some ships were marked red, others green.
"What is the meaning of this?" he asked quietly.
"The red ones are the Imperial ships Yana Dar sent with your original New Republic task force. The green ones are our own ships, plus your contingent." Naas Deron swivelled around in his seat to gaze up at Needa. "A message came in, calling all Imperial commanders home. Of course they could not abandon the battle, but I expect an official request to go to you soon."
"They are being recalled? Why?" the admiral demanded, aghast.
"We will be losing twenty ships in total. That is a lot," Deron continued, seemingly ignoring Needa's question. "With the losses we've had so far this will leave us with a fifth of our original strength, and with this task force only five capital ships will remain, including only three Star Destroyers."
"Impossible."
"Byss has been attacked, and apparently the Empress has vanished," the Sith explained. "Their concern is understandable."
"Attacked? Byss?"
"Yes. This is the other target Lord Skywalker spoke about, I believe. One worldship went on to attack Bilbringi, the other, Byss. It's a ruse to lure our allies away, no less. It has to be that," he added fervently.
"Those bastards!" Needa exclaimed, totally undignified, but regained his composure again quickly. "They are forcing us to draw all of our troops together, just as the Grand Admiral has planned anyway." A sudden smile lit up his face. "We're ahead of them. Admiral Parck and General Sa'lym'a are preparing the defenses of Csilla and Almashin, aren't they?"
"Yes," Puket confirmed. "Although I do not understand why, if we know we will meet them at Almashin."
"Chances are that they won't strike there," the admiral explained. "There's an old rule in warfare, to defend where no defense is expected and to attack where no attack is expected."
"Ah." She nodded in understanding. "So our enemies believe us trapped, but we will surprise them."
"Exactly."
Lorth Needa straightened again, and suddenly he felt relieved. Everything was porceeding as Thrawn had planned. He only had to follow the flow of the Grand Admiral's strategy and he would be all right. Undoubtedly the Imperial commanders with the Chiss' task force had already informed him of their impending departure. That, of course, did not erase the fact they they now had much less fire-power than they had anticipated.
"Master Deron, can you tell me anything about this occurence?" he asked suddenly, gazing at the Sith Lord.
"This is more than it seems, Admiral," the bulky human replied, his voice utterly calm. "But then, the Grand Admiral is also much more than he seems," he added with a smile. "For now, I see no reason to worry."
"Thank you. When I have found one, I'll be sure to let you know," Needa answered drily and turned around to leave.
Easy was dangerous. Very dangerous. Stalking toward the medical ward to wait for Skywalker, he crossed his hands on his back, brooding some more. If they managed to draw all their allies away... What if Mon Mothma got it into her head to recall the fleet? But no, she had already thought of that, hadn't she? She had not allowed the Dark Lord to take all that many ships with him into the Unknown Regions, exactly for the one reason that that might leave the Republic undefended. A clever woman.
Naas Deron was right after all. There was no reason to worry.
Yana felt her throat tighten as she was ushered into Marayl Carr's private chambers. Ignoring the surroundings, though, she kept her attention fixed solely on him. He was the one whom she needed to goad into following her lead, who had to come to trust her. She knew very well that he was not cowed by yesterday's performance, but he was willing to test her sincerity.
"Now, Empress, what is your plan?" he asked harshly, not bothering to look at her as he gazed down at a row of villips, strange, wrinkled things that he used to communicate with his commanders and agents.
"A diversion," she answered curtly. "I do not believe that the New Republic will be fooled by Hah Kima's assurances, therefore we cannot exclude the Empire from our attacks. They will have to sacrifice a few pawns to make this illusion credible."
"Are you willing to make those sacrifices? To sacrifice your warriors?"
Yana gave him a cold smile. "It is no less than what you do, Warmaster, to send your troops on senseless missions, calling their deaths sacrifices, although they mean nothing to the Grand Admiral."
He did not answer for quite some time. Finally he said, his voice a low growl: "You are trying too hard, Empress. Our belief is not easily shattered."
"No? It was never a belief to start with," she purred. "You do not live in accordance with the organisms around you. You have enslaved them, as you were once enslaved by your gods."
He gave her a tight smile. "I expected you to argue this way. But you are wrong. We recognize the sacrifice of our warriors. That is all that matters to us."
"They still die for nothing, for I do not see that your enemies are very impressed with those sacrifices. They have no respect for your warriors."
"You are insolent, Empress," he retorted, turning away. "Perhaps you may come to understand yet. But before I begin to teach you, you will talk to your counselor." Marayl Carr gestured at one of the villips. "You will see with its eyes, speak with its mouth. Maybe you will gain an inkling of what it is like to be Yuuzhan Vong, what it means," he added acidly.
Swallowing down a lump of fear, Yana stepped closer, and self-consciously rubbed a hand over her shaven forehead, over the ridges underneath her still raw skin. It had been a risk, but she had accepted the modifications necessary to convince her captors that she was willing to cooperate at all. It was strange, and felt strange, yet the Dark Side served as a shield for her to keep her balance, to remain sane. Shuddering, Yana remembered the discussion she had had with Ly Sul concerning Roganda's fate. How she had begged for the younger woman's life, had threatened the shaper in such a fashion that he had finally given in, just to keep her from going mad on him.
But Roganda... Roganda had refused to talk to her afterwards. She felt betrayed, deceived, and was falling ever deeper into a bleak depression that Yana herself was just barely able to hold at bay herself. But she could not reassure her now, could not tell her that she knew exactly what she was doing, that all of this simply was a ruse to fool their captors. In the deepest depth of her heart, though, she found a harsh little voice that held only contempt for her, that scolded her for breaking her ideals, for following her father's path.
Reaching out toward the villip Marayl Carr had indicated, she saw her hand tremble. She closed her eyes as she touched the thing, felt it reach out to her, connect with one of the organisms that had been implanted into her head and allowed her to communicate via the villip. Opening her eyes again she found herself looking at a bleak cell, with blurred walls, the entire background no more than shadows. She saw a few indistinct shapes hovering there, guards, she guessed, but the two men in the foreground she could see all too well. One, Hah Kima, wore a self-assured smile on his face, and something flashed in his eyes she found hard to identify through the villip. Elation? Of course she knew that the villip on Byss must be showing the modifications where they were visible on her features, and that explained the disgust that appeared slowly on the second man's features as he recognized her gradually.
Her heart grew tight at the sight of him, at seeing the same look of betrayal in his eyes that had caused Roganda to turn away from her. But he could not escape. She could not allow him to back out of her scheme. In a sense, Franzis Sarreti was the one who could truly make it work. He had served her so faithfully over the past weeks, had endured so much to shield her against any hardship and had unfalteringly offered his assistance as she had been tried and tested time after time. The disappointment she could see in him now broke her heart. And she would have to hurt him even worse. Schooling her features, she gave Hah Kima a cold look.
"I had hoped to find you dead, Hah Kima," she began harshly.
Inclining his head, the moff seemed strangely reverent. "I am pleased to see that you have finally accepted your role in this game, Your Majesty," he told her placidly. "Warmaster Marayl Carr has informed me already of your coming to your senses. Your father would be very pleased."
Yana managed a smile. "My father undoubtedly would have made the same choices I am making now, Hah Kima," she said cryptically. Turning her attention on Sarreti, she let her features grow serious again. "Counselor, where are your loyalties?"
He opened his mouth, astonished. "What?" It came out as a croak, and Yana winced inwardly, because she could see that he could hardly speak, let alone focus enough to gather what was really going on.
"Your loyalties," she repeated, her voice hard. "You have proven your bravery, as senseless as that was, but you have forsaken your duty." His eyes widened, and Yana wanted to cry at her own cruelty. He would never ever neglect his duty, she knew. "Your duty is to the Empire, Counselor," she continued. "You should have realized that. I am certain that Moff Kima has explained to you the choices we face, and his motives."
"Your Highness," he mumbled, his tone slurred, as he tried to form coherent words, but Yana interrupted him instantly.
"Silence! You will cooperate! I am Empress, and I order you to assist Moff Kima in any way he might require. Is that clear?"
He did not react, only stared at her as if she had gone mad. Then, as the depth of her betrayal sunk in, his face turned very dark, and his gray eyes became thunder-clouds. "You told me once you were not fit to be Empress," he whispered, voice choked with anger, "and now I find that I must agree. You were wiser then, Your Majesty," he spat at last.
Yana found to her own horror that her villip turned into a mask of real wrath. How dare he assume she had betrayed the Empire! How dare he question her resolve! "You swore to serve my father, and you have sworn to serve me, Franzis Sarreti. You will serve me now too, or be made to serve!" she snarled.
"Is this what I have taught you?" he asked quietly, "What Lord Kell taught you?"
"Roj Kell is dead. He has paid the price for his foolish views and his crimes. Now," she finished in a low hiss, "I give you one last chance. But be warned. Should you seek to betray my allies now, you will learn the true wrath of your mistress."
She could practically see his resolve break, could see his eyes turn cold and dead. He did not understand that she was playing a charade, all he could see was that she had betrayed his trust and was using his loyalties for her own ends. She could imagine that his hurt came close to what she herself had felt when she had learned of Abla's betrayal and her father's plans for her. His pain stabbed into her heart with ease, and Yana could not help herself other than to close herself off to her emotions and to the past. Finally he inclined his head in quiet defeat.
"I serve you, Empress," he whispered. "Always."
Yana smiled at him cruelly. "Excellent. Then let us proceed and make plans to slay those who oppose us."
"There we are. Bilbringi," Han announced to his co-pilot, as the Millennium Falcon broke through the lower atmosphere and dove into the clouds that covered most of the planet's dayside. He could not help but feel relieved. He was so much closer to Leia now, and once he was back on Coruscant he would make sure to get her to make a few promises concerning his future assignments. No matter how much he loved his independence, he loved Leia's company even more.
Commander Al'than'erudo kept silent, studying the world spread out before them intently. "And you say the world was attacked and no renewed assault was launched?" he asked at last.
"As far as I know, no," Han conceded. "I left pretty much in the middle of the battle."
"Very strange. Lord Skywalker claims that there were two additional targets. But we aren't entirely sure what the attack on Bilbringi was supposed to accomplish."
"Perhaps they were just frustrated and had to take it out on somebody, 'cause you guys on Nirauan gave them a bloody nose," the Corellian joked.
"I do not think so."
"So, what is it you think?"
"I believe that we are looking in the wrong direction. The alliance Luke Skywalker has brought about did not happen coincidentially, it had been planned for months. What if this also has been planned for a long time? It takes a great economical effort to launch such an invasion."
"But Kell goaded them into staging that invasion, didn't he?"
"No, he merely dictated for them where to strike first. But what if someone else lured him into doing exactly that?"
Han did not answer. Indeed, what if? "I don't think so," he said at last, but his voice was hoarse. "I mean, who could have fooled the old guy? No one. And let's spin this further. What if that someone who thought he'd lured old Kell into starting the Yuuzhan Vong's invasion was simply playing into Kell's hand?"
Al'than'erudo gave him a small smile. "I must spend more time around Lord Skywalker, I believe."
"His daughter is quite sufficient for picking up that sort of thinking," Han mumbled. "But you're training with Chi'in now, am I right?"
"He has agreed to instruct me, yes," the Chiss conceded reservedly.
"And what's his mission?"
"He will be assisting Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo."
"A Syndic, eh?" Han chuckled. "What's that mean?"
"That the Emperor will probably lift the ban that restricted him to Nirauan."
"Oh." The Corellian grinned. "Things are really looking up. But for now, let's get down there and pick up one of Piett's guys, before we go on to Coruscant."
Bilbringi Flight Control assigned them a landing pad close to Lemit Zickorey's residence, which now also housed the provisional presidential quarters. When Han and Al'than'erudo arrived at the government building, they were received by Raisa Tobyn, who looked slightly harrassed.
"Welcome," she breathed, "the president is already waiting for you."
She stalked off toward a turbo-lift and the two men followed hurriedly. The entire complex was alive with activity, which, after the Yuuzhan Vong attack and the official recognition of the Conferedate Zone, was hardly surprising. They crowded into the lift together, and Raisa turned her back toward them to punch a set of security commands into the lift's control pad. Apparently this lift only went up to Piett's level under certain restrictions. Finally the car moved up, and Han relaxed somewhat.
"Has Leia checked back in?" he asked quietly, and Raisa favored him with a gentle smile.
"I fear I do not kow that, Captain Solo. But we have received an emergency message from Coruscant just a short while ago. The president is going through that right now."
"Oh. So he's busy?"
"He said he will make time for you," Raisa assured him, and just then the car stopped. Unlocking the doors, the bodyguard preceded them into a pleasant-looking hallway. "We are here. Security protocol actually would have forbidden you to take your weapons up here, but since I am responsible for security, I have sanctioned it due to the president's orders. This really seems urgent news. This way, please."
"A council of war, instead of a council of peace," Tomas Piett sighed. "I wonder if the princess anticipated this." Leaning back in his chair he gazed at the elderly man seated across from him.
Lemit Zickorey, acting governor of Bilbringi, returned his glance with a casual shrug. "Things are constantly changing on the surface, but at the bottom they still stay the same, mostly," the seasoned politician assured him. Piett smiled.
"That may be so, but it does also change the foundation of the council we had wanted to found. It gives this a totally different spin, and in the future this council, if it ever comes to be now, will be remembered as a war council."
"True," Zickorey agreed. "So, what do we do?"
"We have no choice but to send a representative. I suggest Lady Fawl or else Anto Andorwyn."
The governor's brow rose in surprise. "Both are trouble," he told the president bluntly. "You know as well as I do that they were collaborating with Zsinj against Tious Markhan and are prone to betraying us too."
"Yes," the former admiral nodded. "That is exactly why I want them elsewhere, where they cannot interfere further with the legislative process of bringing this confederation into being. And I suspect that the other council members would keep a close eye on them."
"But that council... With the sources they are going to command, you are giving both Fawl and Andorwyn the key to using vital information against us."
Piett smiled thinly. "It is tempting, yes, but Senior Analyst Padmé Naberrie and I have an understanding concerning information policy. In fact, she will be controlling all information."
"So the council members will be charged with different departments, is that it?" Zickorey inquired.
"Exactly."
"A very good setup. Each their own specialized field. What will our representative be responsible for?"
"Economics. Ah," Piett added, when a discreet chiming alerted him to the approach of his visitors. "This will be Captain Solo. Come, please!"
The Corellian entered right on Raisa's heels, and the bodyguard gave the president a secret smile that he answered faintly. Their relationship had turned into much more than friendship now that their positions were secure, and Tomas enjoyed her wits and dry humor immensely, apart from other things, of course.
"Thank you, Raisa. That will be all," he told her quietly, and she left, not without sending him a glance that made him want to hurry this discussion, which he knew was impossible. With a regretful sigh he turned his attention to the newcomers, who were taking the vacant places in front of his desk next to Lemit Zickorey. "Captain Solo, Commander Al'than'erudo, a pleasure to have you here. We have received news from Coruscant and a confirmation from the Imperial government. The Yuuzhan Vong have attacked Byss and the Empress and Franzis Sarreti are both missing. Hah Kima is leading a provisionary council, and if you look at the set-up, he's giving us a clear signal to stay out of the Empire's affairs. The other bad news is that he has sent out a recall for all Imperial ships out in the Unknown Regions."
Inhaling sharply, Solo frowned fiercely at the report spread out before him. "I guess now we have the answer to our riddle," he told the Chiss seated next to him, "or part of it."
"Meaning?" Piett asked coolly.
"The Yuuzhan Vong are trying to isolate the Chiss out there."
"I object," the president injected, interrupting Al'than'erudo as he was just about to comment on the Corellian's assumption.
"You object? How so?" the commander inquired instead.
"As I said, the provisionary council's set-up is quite telling. All of its members were supporters of Tious Markhan, and we all know that Markhan's goal was not exactly for the Empire to become the New Republic's most trusted ally. The attack on Byss now seems much too convenient."
"A coup?" Lemit Zickorey suggested, but Piett shook his head slowly.
"I believe it might be more than that. I have invited Anto Andorwyn and Lady Fawl to join this discussion, so we might see how they react to this news. They should be here any moment now."
For some reason Al'than'erudo and Solo shared a long, meaningful glance. Before the president could ask for an explanation, though, the Chiss turned his head to address him directly. "With permission, President Piett, I might be able to assist you. I have learned a lot during the past weeks about my innate abilities in the Force, and perhaps I can help you with identifying the reactions of your 'guests'."
Piett stared at the commander. "You are Force-sensitive?"
"I am currently studying with Master Chi'in, yes," the Chiss replied a bit stiffly.
Giving him a wry smile, Tomas relaxed a bit. "Even though I am quite confident that the three of us have enough experience to spot a lie without the aid of the Force, your assistance is, of course, welcome." It was a clear rebuke, and Al'than'erudo saw it as such, just as Solo himself. "Do not think that I harbor bias against Force-users," Piett continued, "not at all. Your offer is very considerate, Commander."
"But you don't want to be treated like a green kid either, eh?" the Corellian said with a wink, and nudged the Chiss' ribcage amiably. "Next time wait for him to ask for help."
Al'than'erudo nodded. "My apologies, President, I was not thinking. But I did see no sense in letting you figure my abilities out on your own."
"Very good. Nevertheless, I would ask you to keep quiet about those abilities outside these four walls. Do you understand?" He held the Chiss' glowing eyes for a moment longer, to make sure that he truly did understand.
Visibly flustered, the commander nodded at last. "Yes, sir. I quite understand."
"Excellent. And here come our guests." Shooing both Solo and Al'than'erudo out of the seats directly opposite from his, Tomas waited for the two men to join Lemit Zickorey, who had already relocated to the couch by the window. "Come in!"
Raisa was accompanying the two nobles, who had brought two aides with them. The president noticed the frown on his bodyguard's face at once, and even though he felt certain that Solo and Al'than'erudo were quite adept at handling any threat, should it arise, he waved for her to come in, too. She took up position next to the door, while Andorwyn and Lady Fawl poceeded to take the seats obviously intended for them. Their aides, both tall humans, looked at each other and stood to the side, facing the trio on the couch. Tomas could not help but notice that they left Raisa free room to shoot, should she decide it. Somewhat reassured by that move, he smiled at the two guests politely, and Lord Andorwyn responded immediately.
"I see we are not the only ones to be let in on this urgent business you wanted to talk about, President. But to have two outsiders here, that is outrageous," he added with a disdainful sniff directed at Solo and his companion.
Han crossed his arms in front of his chest quite pointedly and gave the Kuati a hard glare. But Andorwyn chose to ignore him. The nobleman was finely dressed, just as Lady Fawl by his side, who wore her dark hair done up elaborately. But she for one seemed nervous for some reason. Redirecting his gaze, the Corellian took to studying the two silent aides standing opposite from where he was seated. Their faces were impassive, and something about them did not seem right. Then, while Piett and his guests were still busy exchanging pleasantries, Al'than'erudo rose abruptly from his seat, and gave the president a casual nod and a smile.
"If you would excuse me for a moment?" he asked politely.
"Of course. Raisa, would you?"
As Al'than'erudo neared the door, Han could practically see the lady grow more nervous, and her aides, for some reason, seemed very tense all of a sudden. Reaching the door, the Chiss bent toward Raisa to whisper in her ear. Just then the two aides moved toward the two men seated on the couch, and Han felt very glad that Raisa had skirted protocol and let him keep his blaster.
"Watch out! They have weapons!" Lady Fawl screeched, just as Han brought his blaster to bear and took a quick shot at one of the aides.
Lemit Zickorey, unarmed, dived for a handy corner, while Al'than'erudo and Raisa attacked the second aide. The bodyguard took her time in targeting the assailant, who launched himself at her with an inhuman battle-cry. Her shot hit him squarely in the stomach, and he jerked around helplessly, just as Al'than'erudo locked one arm around the assailant's neck and jabbed his elbow into the man's face to knock him out. Han, who aimed another shot at the man attacking him, used the handle of his blaster as a club, getting the drift of leaving the assailants alive. Breathing hard, he stumbled upright, leaving his victim lying dazed on the floor, only to stare at the second would-be assassin, who was twitching like mad, as his skin was peeling away from his body, to reveal a disfigured humanoid underneath.
"What in Sith's hell is that!" he shouted, aiming his blaster at the thing shakily.
"Yuuzhan Vong," Al'than'erudo informed him very coldly, and looked up to gaze at Lady Fawl. The Kuati noblewoman had risen from her seat, and her hands were shaking. At her side, Anto Andorwyn had had no chance to react, and he stared up at her, totally aghast.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded at last, his voice hysterical.
"Protocal forbids any weaponry on this level," she stammered, then threw a quick glance at Tomas Piett, who had also stood up. He was the perfect epitome of coolness.
"Raisa, would you please arrest her?" the president asked quietly, hands crossed on his back.
Just then Lemit Zickorey shouted: "Watch out, Captain!" and Han whirled around only to see a fist coming at him, before he was knocked half-way across the room, his flight intercepted by the president's desk. The man, no, the Yuuzhan Vong he had thought to have knocked ot previously, launched himself at Tomas Piett, who took a self-conscious step back, but met the wall almost instantly, trapping him. Han tried to make a grab for the thing's legs, but caught only air as the assassin vaulted the desk to get at the president. Only a step behind him, Raisa Tobyn followed, and together they crashed onto the desk, the fine wooden piece of furniture breaking under their combined weight.
A blaster shot rang throughout the room and Han only had a second to see Al'than'erudo straighten from the now dead second alien and turn toward the struggling combatants. He needn't have bothered, for another shot from Raisa's own blaster finished the other. At exactly that moment Lady Fawl made a desperate leap for the door. Scrambling to his feet Han tried to catch her and managed to get hold of her ankles. She fell with a screech of rage and fear, but then Raisa was already by her side.
"Alive, Raisa, we want her alive!" Tomas Piett shouted, and Han, who was just gathering his knees underneath him, saw the flicker of emotion in the Kuati's eyes just before her hand came up lightning quick to snatch a decorative pin from her hair and thrust it straight at the bodyguard's throat.
"No!"
Blood gushed from the wound in Raisa's neck, splattering all over the lady's face. Screaming hysterically, Lady Fawl tried to free herself when the short-haired woman fell on top of her, her body pinning her to the ground.
"A medic!" Piett roared. "Get a medic at once!"
Without another word Al'than'erudo darted out of the room, while Han gently but firmly drew the bodyguard off the still screaming Lady Fawl. Once the weight had been lifted from her, she curled up into a ball of fear and disbelief. But Han was not really concerned for her. Ripping off the sleeve of his shirt he wrapped it around the injured woman's neck to stop the bleeding.
"Raisa!" Tomas Piett dropped down on his kees next to them and Han felt his heart ache at the anguish he saw in the man's pale green eyes. "Hold on," the president whispered, sorrow filling his voice. "Hold on."
"Traitor!" Han looked up to see Anto Andorwyn loom over the lady still lying on the floor. "You worthless bitch!" the nobleman snarled, true anger plain on his features. Before he could do anything worse than insult her, though, a contingent of security personnel appeared along with the requested medics, who instantly took care of Raisa Tobyn.
"Good thinking," one of them told Han, as they picked her slack body out of his arms and lay it down on a stretcher. "Make room!"
Two security guards hauled Lady Fawl upright and marched her out, leaving a dazed Tomas Piett and an outraged Anto Andorwyn behind. Han got slowly to his feet, drawing Piett up with him. "She'll be all right," he sighed, "but now I guess we know who we're going to send to Coruscant."
TBC