Chapter 36 – Confrontation

Yana could feel her heart beat in her throat, and it was hard for her to think clearly. Not that it was required any longer. All she could do now was wait, and prepare herself. Kneeling in the midst of her small cabin, she ignored Roganda completely, only intent on her own self. She was nurturing a black flame of outrage she planned on using very soon. A small flame now, but she let it grow bit by bit, let it open a pathway to the depth of her hatred, a gateway to unimaginable power.

Inch for inch she fought her way deeper into the meditative trance, leaving everything behind. She knew this was dangerous, that she would be almost defenseless against the Dark Side of her self. But she needed to risk it. Too much was at stake now. If Thrawn had not been able to summon help, if something went wrong, the Warmaster would triumph, and the galaxy would fall. This she knew with utmost certainty.

Bitterness stabbed through her consciousness as she remembered the way her life had been just a few months ago. She had been reasonably happy and content on Nar Shadaa, with Abla. And now she was here, on this ghastly worldship, surrounded by aliens whose insanity was repulsing her. She was all alone. No. Roganda was still with her, faithfully watching over her mistress. Yana suppressed a groan. She was nobody's mistress! She did not ever want to think of herself that way! Never. It was too close to what she associated with her father, too close to becoming what he had been.

In a shocking instant she realized that if even she had troubles coming to terms with her heritage, it must have been impossible for Irek to escape that fate. He had never learned anything else than that everyone was serving his needs, that his life was aimed at a single purpose, to rule the galaxy one day, like his father had. It was so easy to succumb to that image of power, so easy to get lost in daydreams. But Yana was a pragmatic. She had seen enough in her life to tell right from wrong, and what she was doing right now was very wrong.

But there was no other way she could see, no other solution to this dilemma. She had little hope of a last-minute rescue, knew that she could only rely on herself, not even on Roganda. Roganda was too weak, too afraid. Briefly, the Empress looked up to gaze at the younger woman, who sat in her accustomed corner, watching her keenly out of black eyes. Expectantly. What was it she expected? For Yana to save them both? For her to destroy the Yuuzhan Vong single-handedly? It would not happen. Could not. All they could hope for was a quick death in the end, and to take as many of those repulsive creatures with them as they could.

Three more hours. Then the battle at Almashin would begin.

Syndic Bal'maw'narda was worried, and Voss Parck equally so, yet both men were making an excellent effort at not letting their worry show. The Secondary Task Force had taken up a defensive orbit above Almashin, the entire fleet was set on red alert, and Lorth Needa had remained aboard the Starhammer, while Anakin and his companions had made their way down planet to inform both the Syndic and the Admiral of the recent developments. But only a few hours within their arrival a newcomer announced himself.

Chi'in was coming on behalf of the Grand Admiral, and Anakin felt incredibly good to see his old friend again. Not that he believed that the Noghri could not take care of himself, but his recent adventures first with the Yuuzhan Vong, then with the Star People, had had him worrying too. Not to mention that Chi'in had watched over Luke and Nuron during their trip through the Unknown Regions. Most of the time anyway. When the alien Sith Lord was finally ushered into Syndic Bal'maw'narda's sprawling office, the Dark Lord bounded out of his chair instantly.

"Chi'in!" he exclaimed, face beaming. "Good to have you back!"

He ignored the smugness he could sense both from Naas Deron and Puket, not only because he could also feel their relief at having their mentor back with them. Bal'maw'narda, as expected, remained calm and composed, whereas Voss Parck seemed pleased. Andarack, Chi'in's great-nephew, though, exuded anxiety and shame.

"Anakin," the older Noghri greeted him in return. "You are still playing games, I see."

"You know me. I just can't stop," the Dark Lord replied with a wink, then motioned for Chi'in to take a seat next to him. "So, what's new? We are expecting the enemy to descend on us any moment now. Our defenses stand ready, and we want to avoid a ground battle under any circumstances. The report Commander Al'than'erudo gave me was unclear on the specific time of arrival of our allies, and I am not sure we can count on the Empire. How does the Grand Admiral judge the situation?"

"He is confident," Chi'in answered calmly. "And he sent me ahead to suggest another angle to approach this problem. The idea is derived from my report concerning the creature on Kynda'bey."

"The yammosk," Anakin supplied.

"The one. Before he died Lord Kell told Luke that he had planned on using the energies of Laa'kuan to control this yammosk. If you could control it, you could control the Yuuzhan Vong."

"Me, is it? Why do you believe I could do that?" the Dark Lord asked suspiciously. "And I am not certain I want to trust Roj Kell," he added angrily. "With all he's done he is lucky he is dead already." Which was only too true. The gall of the man!

Chi'in gave him a pensive glance, then shook his head. "Revenge won't get us anywhere. This would be a chance to avoid more losses on both sides."

"What?" Voss Parck jumped up in shocked surprise. "Did I understand correctly? You are proposing an amnesty for these creatures, Master Chi'in?"

The Noghri gazed at the man long and hard. "I am Sith, Admiral, I am no killer. And yes, the Grand Admiral ordered no quarter for their troops, but now we know that we do not only hurt their troops when we destroy their worldships. Commander Al'than'erudo's report should have made that clear."

"They did not spare our civilians either," Syndic Bal'maw'narda argued, "but I understand what you mean. Yet we should not take foolish chances. Master Chi'in, you have met the yammosk and have seen the labyrinth on Laa'kuan at work. Would you be able to perform the task required?"

Chi'in shook his head and sought Anakin's gaze again. The Dark Lord suppressed a sigh. He knew why the Noghri could not be the one. Chi'in was powerful, and he may be able to control the labyrinth, but he was not Cor'dan. He was. He had accepted that gift, that burden, willingly, and somehow he found that perhaps this task would be the last one required to bind him to the Sith forever. Still, Chi'in was also right concerning the losses this war had cost them so far. If there was a way to stop them, he should take it. He was not needed here for the battle either, with Grand Admiral Thrawn in command of the fleet.

"Anakin," the Noghri began anew, "you were chosen for a reason. That reason may not appeal to you, but it is your responsibility whether to follow the call or ignore it."

The shrill alarm that tore through the air suddenly seemed to mock his friend's very words, and it startled Anakin out of his dark broodings instantly. Too late to make choices. Time to act. He rose from his seat, putting all worry behind him.

"All right, people," he announced. "Let's give them a good time."

The Primary Task Force arrived minutes ahead of the enemy, and the Grand Admiral's attention was fixed solely on the planet ahead. A quick survey showed him that everything was in place. The only forces visible around the Chiss world were the ships of Needa's fleet, and the Warmaster would certainly realize that he had found the enemy in his lair and had cornered him, wounded and fatigued. Thrawn had no doubts that Voss Parck had deployed the planet's defensive forces in the surrounding area, making use of the stealth cruisers' camouflage. The outlying systems had been alerted to the threat, but so far the admiral would not have given the signal for them to advance. That signal was the arrival of Thrawn's primary force.

"Contact the Starhammer," Thrawn told Commander Shikay calmly, while he himself was busy planning the strategical layout of the ships.

"Admiral Needa for you, sir," Shikay announced after a moment.

"Thank you. Admiral, is everything in place?"

"Yes, sir, we are ready. How many ships?"

"And estimate of hundred."

"We have sixty-two," Needa reminded him cautiously.

"Yes, Admiral, that is correct." Ignoring the unspoken question of whether that was enough, he continued: "Naas Deron and Puket are to join you immediately, along with Andarack."

"They are already on their way up, sir," Needa replied promptly, "but Andarack will be staying on Almashin, as per Lord Skywalker's orders."

That caught Thrawn's attention. "Is that so. And who is going to replace him?"

"Master Chi'in."

For a heart-beat the Grand Admiral fell into stunned silence. "He is still here?"

"Yes, sir. He has met with Syndic Bal'maw'narda and Lord Skywalker. I have not heard of him since."

"He should be on his way to Laa'kuan already," Thrawn mused aloud. "Another change of plan made by Lord Skywalker?"

"Perhaps," Needa offered noncommittally. "Sir, is there a problem?"

He hesitated for the fraction of a second, then firmly told him: "No. No problem. We will proceed as planned." Looking down at the control panel of his command chair he frowned ever so slightly. "I am transmitting the coordinates for the fleet deployment right now. Make it quick."

"Yes, sir. Needa out."

"Captain Palleon," he addressed his second-in-command, "have the Eisenhart move into formation and keep the TIEs ready for launch."

With a nod, the captain set to work, leaving the Chiss admiral to ponder the situation. So, Andarack would be staying with the Dark Lord on Almashin, and Chi'in would join the Starhammer and lead Black Flight. Perhaps then it would make sense to give him command over all squadrons in rotating order, so the enemy had no way of targeting a particular one.

"Captain," he called out again, "I want Master Chi'in on board the Eisenhart." He did not wait for the other's nod.

Skywalker would manage Voss Parck's troops and hold the planetary defenses ready in the likely case that some of the Yuuzhan Vong ships broke through and attacked the planet itself. In doing so, they would draw valuable fire-power from the defending ships, leaving their own vessels more room to pummel the home fleet itself. He suppressed a grimace, again resenting the fact that this battle would be very costly in terms of personnel and materiél. Not the way he preferred it, not at all. He could not rely on the alliance Skywalker's son had supposedly gathered to arrive on time, therefore the first few engagements would be crucial.

Very well. So far the Yuuzhan Vong had not seen much of the Chiss' defenses, apart from Thrawn's and Needa's efforts. It was likely that the Warmaster would not expect reinforcements here either, but the Grand Admiral found it wiser not to underestimate the enemy. If the Warmaster counted on the Chiss having laid a trap, he would take precautious measures, as well as attack swiftly and brutally. They did not have much time left. A sudden smile flashed across his face. Then he contacted Needa again and said:

"Admiral, a slight change of plan."

Voss Parck was staring at the center radar screen set in the midst of the Chiss Defense Department's command center on Almashin. The installation was an undergound bunker, connected through a maze of corridors and tunnels with various other strategical weapons installations all over the planet. The command center was filled with officers and operators, and all calmly and quietly went about their tasks, fairly ignoring the admiral's shock. But at last Skywalker took a heart and joined the gape-mouthed Parck at the screens.

"What is it?"

"Look at this!" Gesturing at the displayed image, Voss Parck turned wild eyes on the Dark Lord. "This was not what we had planned! He is moving out of the formation!"

"Let's see." Skywalker squinted at the screen, frowned, squinted again, then shook his head. "He knows what he is doing," he told Parck soothingly.

"Really? He is leaving us too open to the attack! If the enemy is hundred strong, and I assume that means a few thousand coral-skippers, we will be meshed into bits withing ten minutes of their arrival!"

"Calm down, Admiral," the Dark Lord snapped, suddenly angry. "You of all people should know Thrawn well enough to realize that he knows what he's doing, and he is doing it for a reason."

"Why is he changing the plan so abruptly? That is not like him," Parck countered nervously. "Something must have happened."

It was true. The Grand Admiral had had every tiny detail planned for this battle, and now he was changing the array! The idea had been to conceal part of the stealth cruisers available behind the two task forces the Yuuzhan Vong had grown accustomed to, while the rest of Parck's troops were lying in ambush to attack the enemy's rear. Alarmed, the admiral checked the frequencies to his commanders out there. Everything seemed to be in order.

"He is diverting their attention to cushion the blow," Skywalker said suddenly, his voice very low. "We have to move quickly then, and attack their vanguard before they can gather what is really going on."

"But that means that they will be expecting the sneak attack."


"Yes."

Voss Parck's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. "All right. In that case we'll be quick and thorough."

"Ah, Empress."

Roganda kept her eyes to the ground as she slipped onto the bridge silently. Yuuzhan Vong soldiers were all around, their commanders clustering around Marayl Carr himself.

"I am pleased that you have joined me to witness our greatest victory."

"If it becomes one at all," Yana retorted curtly. "And even if, I doubt you will find others easier prey."

There was a soft sound that Roganda had come to associate with laughter. Apparently the Warmaster found Yana's prediction very amusing.

"It will be a victory, Empress."

A gentle change of movement told Roganda that the ship had reverted into realspace. Only now did she dare to look up. Spread out before them was a glowing green jewel of a world, and arrayed around it like barbs were the thirty-two ships of the two separate battle groups that had been hounding Marayl Carr's fleet over the past weeks. Even to her untrained eye the Chiss-New Republic ships' array seemed disorderly, and soon after she realized that they were leaving. Her throat suddenly felt very dry.

"They are running already," Marayl Carr announced contemptuously. "Your precious Grand Admiral seems to be more cautious and less of a genius than you praised him to be, Yana Dar."

The Empress did not answer, and Rogand risked a glance at her to see Yana's blue eyes staring blankly at the fleet outside. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the look the Warmaster gave the older woman, a mixture of contempt and deepest satisfaction. Suddenly Roganda felt very afraid. She remembered vividly what Yana had sworn, that they would win at Almashin, either way.

"So," Marayl Carr said in a low purr. "We will annihilate this fleet and so break their resistance. I do not doubt that this world's prefect will surrender once he realizes that he will be lost if he continues this foolish fight." Turning toward his commanders he gave a sharp nod. "Attack," he ordered coldly. "And honor to you all."

The first wave of the attack was broken by the rows of stealth cruisers that had been lying in wait around the planet, deftly concealed by their unique camouflaged hull. Voss Parck had regained his composure and was conducting the battle with the same cool manner his Chiss commanders displayed. Watching the admiral at work, Anakin again had to admire the Grand Admiral's deft sense for people's abilities and personalities. If this had been a test to see whether Voss Parck had deserved the important post he had been given in the defense of the Chiss Empire, he would have passed with flying colors.

"Group One, move forward," the admiral spoke into his head-comm, all the while gazing at the radar screens intently. "Group Two, move alongside One, and Three, move left. We'll keep this hard for now. How is the Grand Admiral proceeding?"

"Still pulling out," an officer told him calmly.

"He will outflank the enemy," Voss Parck mused aloud, "and draw their attention away from Major Al'dana's forces."

Major Al'dana, Anakin had learned, was in charge of the second group of stealth cruisers that was awaiting its battle-call two parsecs out of the system, out of the Yuuzhan Vong's radar range, hopefully. While Thrawn was moving his ships out to bait the enemy, and the stealth cruisers defending Almashin continued their ferocious attack, the Yuuzhan Vong fleet was busily regrouping. The first few engagements would determine the course of this battle, and so far it looked as if the Chiss-New Republic Alliance had gained the upper hand.

"Major Al'dana," Anakin heard Voss Parck say, "you're free to move in."

Only a minute later the second group of stealth cruisers dropped into the back of the Yuuzhan Vong ships and immediately started hammering at their rear. But the attack was swiftly met by scores upon scores of coral-skippers. None had been deployed to combat Voss Parck's forces so far, and that alone told Anakin that the Yuuzhan Vong warmaster was no fool at all, and had indeed anticipated the sneak attack. Along with Voss Parck and his adjutants, the Dark Lord gazed longingly at the radar screen, where they expected Thrawn and Needa to appear with their battle groups any moment now. But the two commanders took their time. Only when the Yuuzhan Vong ships spread out further along the battle front did they appear, almost too late to contain the enemy. Anakin exhaled sharply. That had been a close cut.

Now, wedged in tightly on four sides, the Yuuzhan Vong fleet began to reveal its full, deadly potential. Too late the Dark Lord realized the foolishness of this deployment, and its benefits. With their own ships so close, the Chiss-New Republic forces had to be very careful with deploying tractor beams to hold the molten rock projectiles hurled at them at bay, and the fighters also were hard pressed not to get in one another's way. It would be up to the flight commanders and ship captains to prove their worth as a team. And it required an extremely skilled and perceptive supreme commander to conduct this battle. Luckily that one commander was the Grand Admiral, over on board the New Republic Star Destroyer Eisenhart.

Soon, it seemed that the Alliance was indeed dominating the battle, even though outnumbered by the enemy. Anakin listened to the calm voice of Chi'in, relaying orders to the specific flights of TIEs, X-Wings and Chiss clawcraft. Each maneuver that was conducted by the Noghri Sith Lord saw an enemy ship on the defensive, and ultimately, destroyed, with Black Flight heading the list of kills.

"We are winning," he heard Voss Parck whisper reverentially, and he almost agreed with the admiral, but an instant after the words had been formed in his mind a wave of icy shock crashed into his awareness.

"Damn!" he shouted, helpless fury propelling him toward the command center's comm station. "Gold and Black Group, full retreat!" he roared, no doubt startling both Thrawn and Needa out of concentration over there, but if they – Too late. Face turning ashen, he watched the radar screen darken with hundreds of red dots. They were everywhere. "Fool!" he scolded himself, but quickly his anger expanded to encompass Thrawn and Parck. Why had they been so blind to believe that this was the only fleet in the vicinity? He knew why, of course. There had been no evidence, no clue as to more ships hiding in the Unknown Regions. Anakin's head was spinning. He had assumed, they all had, that they had tracked all the ships down, that they had bound all of the enemy's resources with their strategy of strike and fade. And his cursed memories had not warned him of anything like this.

His heart frozen, he looked on helplessly, as the newcomers tore deep wounds into their lines, ripping through their defenses mercilessly.

"My stars," someone breathed.

Stunned silence permeated the entire command center, while outside chaos broke out among the fleet. It lasted only for a few moments, before the ships began regrouping, despite their losses, despite the enemy vessels pressing in on them. Anakin drew a ragged breath. Thank the Force for having endowed the Grand Admiral with that much nerve and cool. Drawing back in good order, three fourths of their ships drew the enemy away from the planet gradually, and for a moment it seemed as if the maneuver would work. The Grand Admiral used that time to slip more ships in between the enemy forces and the planet, thus reinforcing Almashin's primary defenses. He was buying them time, there was nothing else he could do, but it was a beginning.

Immediately, Anakin contacted Bal'maw'narda, and before he could say anything the aged Chiss told him: "We are evacuating."

"Excellent," the Dark Lord replied, at a loss of what else to say. Anxiously he waited for a further comment, an accusation from the Syndic, but all the Chiss said was: "A slight set-back, I should say. Continue. We have utmost faith in you." And then the connection broke.

Yana could not believe what she was seeing. In the matter of moments the tide of battle had turned, and now it looked as if she would witness something she would never have thought possible: the utter defeat and destruction of a fleet led by none other than the legendary Grand Admiral Thrawn. It would be a historical moment, had she not known that with his demise history would end, trampled and burnt to pieces by the Yuuzhan Vong. The shock of that vision paralyzed her, and she did not react when Marayl Carr stepped beside her, his horrible features drawn up into a triumphant smile.

"Glory to Supreme Overlord Shimmra and his wisdom," the Warmaster whispered, for her ears only. "Your Grand Admiral sought to trap us, but we were wiser than he. Though I admit that he is fighting bravely." He made an expansive gesture that encompassed the frenzied battle raging around them. "Your people are earning honor here, today," he declared earnestly.

"They will perish," Yana replied, her voice strained. She still could not believe her own eyes.

The finalty of her own words stunned her, and for a moment she felt the weight on her shoulders becoming too much to bear. Staggering, she fought to take a ragged breath. Marayl Carr's pitiless eyes gazed down at her coldly.

"You have realized your fate, Empress Yana Dar," he said, "and you will either submit or be destroyed. Once this world has fallen to the glory of Yun-Yammka, you will kneel before Supreme Overlord Shimmra and swear fealty to him. You will swear alongside your Grand Admiral, and the Emperor of the Chiss, and you will be true to your vow. I will make certain of that."

"The Emperor?" she asked, trying to understand, but she was shaking so hard she could barely think.

"Glory to Supreme Overlord Shimmra, who has led his forces to victory at the world called Csilla. The battle ended only a few hours ago," he replied proudly.

Her voice grew very small. "You knew," she whispered, the depth of their defeat slamming into her stomach like an iron club. She felt bitter gall rise from her belly and started retching violently. This was too much!

"I always knew you were too weak to play this game, infidel," Marayl Carr snarled, and hit her across her head hard. Sprawled on the deck in her own vomit, Yana felt hot tears of humiliating, fear and anger flow down her cheeks. A moment later Rogand was with her, valiantly trying to shield her against further punishment. The Warmaster's cruel laughter filled th air above the two women. "You were so vain to believe you could trick us!" he shouted, wheezing with laughter. Suddenly his mirth was cut off. "Take them away," he snarled, and almost instantly Yana found herself being seized by brutal, clawed hands, and dragged from the bridge, Roganda by her side. They were lost. Well and truly lost. Yana was still weeping in silence by the time they were unceremoniously thrown into her old cabin, and the door was sealed behind them.

"Sir," Teer Shikay began, but did not continue.

The Grand Admiral did not even look at him. He was totally focused on the battle, ignoring everything but the battle, letting no emotion come even close. No matter the surprise, no matter the losses, all that was past, and all that counted was the present.

"Master Chi'in," he said suddenly, "continue the strafing runs on the lead ships."

The Noghri did not reply, but calmly began to issue orders. Apart from Thrawn himself he seemed to be the only one who had not been stunned into paralysis by the lightning attack and the overwhelming forces opposing them. It did look bad, very bad, admittedly.

The enemy commander did not even wait for the Grand Admiral's forces to be fully defeated, he had already begun sending troop carriers down toward Almashin's surface, and packs of coral-skippers were leisurely pursuing the evacuating ships. The Grand Admiral had quietly ordered Needa to cover the civilians' escape with his battle group. Now the Starhammer and her sister ships were methodically plucking the small, agile fighters from the sky, using all the knowledge the admiral had gained in the previous engagements. And still there were too many to keep them away from the fleeing Chiss transports for long.

Soon now Thrawn would have to decide what to do. One choice was to make a stand, to keep on fighting for as long as he could, and risk his entire fleet in the process. The second choice was to draw out in good order, shielding the planet and the evacuating ships as best as he could. But as time went by and the longer the enemy continued his assault, he was running out of ships to put the second option into practice. The third choice then, the one he loathed the most, would be to abandon both the battle and the civilians to save at least part of his fleet, to be able to strike back another time. But if he backed out now, and abandoned Almashin, he would not survive for long.

"How many drones aboard the ships?" he asked, not really caring who answered. It was Palleon, who had kept very quiet so far.

"Two hundred, sir."

Thrawn gave a weary nod. "Good. Send them out in a mushroom deployment."

Palleon risked a glance at the Noghri standing further down the bridge. "What about the fighters? Shouldn't we warn them?"

"No," the Grand Admiral said firmly. "It is all or nothing now. We won't be able to get out of this any conventional way." He paused shortly. "They are landing troops. I assume that Lord Skywalker has learned a thing or two from his battles on Nirauan."

"So have they," Teer Shikay reminded him quietly.

"A reasonable assumption," Thrawn agreed. "But nothing we can change. Commander Shikay, I want a broadcast to all ships."

"Yes, sir. At once."

He noticed the look that passed between Palleon and the commander, a look of despair, devoid of all hope. They knew what would be coming, a last rally of their remaining forces, a final address to the troopers out on the field. The Grand Admiral suppressed a tiny smile. Oh yes, he knew them well.

"You're on receive," Shikay told him quietly, when he returned.

"Thank you," Thrawn answered with a nod and leaned a bit forward to make sure that he would be heard clearly across the ether. "This is Grand Admiral Thrawn with a message for all troops. I want to make three things clear: Firstly, bravery is not what I expect of you. What I expect is that you do your job, no less. Secondly, I want to express my utmost trust and faith in your abilities. I know you have all trained hard and prepared yourselves thoroughly for this battle. Remember that. And third and last," his voice dropped dangerously low, "anyone who disappoints my trust in any way will not survive this war, one way or the other. That is all. Thank you for your attention, and good hunting to all of us." Leaning back in his seat, the Grand Admiral closed his eyes with a pleased smile on his lips. If they were going to die, they might as well die with the right attitude.

Chi'in clan Rim'kai was observing the different screens installed into the station in front of him calmly, oblivious to the chaos that was raging outside. He was only intent on his fighters, keeping track of each single flight constantly both on the screens and over the comm, as well as through the Force. Among the surviving Sith the Noghri was evenly matched in potential with the Dark Lord, and his perceptiveness and hunting skills made his mind as dangerous as that of any of the two warlords leading this battle. He seldomly found himself forced to deploy some grand display of power to get his point across, and he proved that once again, when he deftly had the flights maneuver out of range of the drones that had been sent out on Thrawn's order, and exploded in a ring of fire around the Grand Admiral's trapped task force.

Before the enemy had a chance to recover from the impact of the explosion, Chi'in sent all flights on an attack run toward the first row of enemies. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the looks Thrawn and Palleon gave him. It did not matter what they were thinking of him, as long as he could rely on both to do their job. His responsibility were the fighters, theirs were the deployment of the capital ships and – in Thrawn's case – the overall tactics.

"Black Flight," Chi'in spoke quietly, "give me an update on target identification."

"Too many for us to catch them all," Naas Deron replied grimly.

"That's not what I want you to do right now. How many ships have landed already on Almashin?"

"Fifteen. More joining every minute."

"They will establish a corridor to defend the descending ships. And they have more than enough to hold us at bay at the same time," the Noghri mused aloud, risking a glance over at the Grand Admiral, who was seemingly listening intently. Chi'in saw the Chiss give him an almost imperceptible nod. "Black Flight, you are assigned on a scouting run to determine the likely position and layout of that corridor. Eisenhart out."

When he had ended the transmission he turned to face the Grand Admiral fully. "Sir, I had sent some y-wings out to look out for our reinforcements. I have confirmation for three battle groups that will be joining us."

"Good. Transmit their entry vectors, please."

"At once."

Chi'in waited until Thrawn had finished studying the data. The Chiss' glowing red eyes seemed to narrow somewhat as he looked up again. "Excellent. Master Chi'in, our ships will need more space to operate. These coralskippers are somewhat hampering us. I want you to get rid of them. Commander Shikay will be assisting you."

Standing behind the Grand Admiral's command chair, Gilead Palleon felt his jaw drop. That order was – arrogant, that was the sole fitting word. And Chi'in accepted it with barely a nod! Shaking his head in disbelief, the elderly captain leaned forward to address his superior. "Sir, what are you planning to do?"

"Chi'in will establish an explosive corridor to bring some order into this battle," the Grand Admiral explained. "Then we will feign retreat. They will focus on cracking Almashin's ground defenses and then we will strike back. By then our reinforcements should have reached the site."

"We have barely room to maneuver, sir," Palleon reminded him cautiously.

Thrawn didn't look at him. "Wait and see," was all he said.

The captain straightened again, resigned in their fate. The Grand Admiral knew what he was doing, and all he himself could do now was to trust the man and follow his orders. So he watched the battle outside, acutely aware of the stray shots that impacted against the Eisenhart's rapidly weakening shields. The only voice dinstinctly audible in the tense humming of the bridge was that of Chi'in. In a dazzling display of formation flying the forty remaining flights of the fleet set to work. Bit by bit they chewed pieces off the enemy's flanks, boring through their array with iron determination. Proton torpedoes, fired by swift corvettes that were following the fighters daringly, underscored the spectacle that was reminiscent of a giant fuse burning through the enemy ships.

The maneuver lifted some pressure off Voss Parck's fleet that was being forced ever closer toward Almashin. The stealth cruisers reacted instantly, and renewed their efforts at holding the attacking Yuuzhan Vong vessels at bay. As expected, the explosive corridor thinned the Yuuzhan Vong fleet's array a bit, allowing the Star Destroyers some breathing space and room to retreat. A moment later the Eisenhart was slowly drawing back, and Palleon noticed the subtle changes the Grand Admiral was ordering in their own fleet array. Only a third or so was able to retreat, leaving the others to fend against the enemy on their own. As Thrawn had predicted, the enemy tightened his formation instantly, erecting an effective shield against the seemingly retreating Chiss and New Republic ships.

"Corridor is operational," Chi'in announced suddenly.

The Grand Admiral, who had been intent on data streaming past on the screen installed into the right armrest of his chair, nodded mutely, then directed his gaze at the battle again. "Attack," he ordered, and the Eisenhart lurched forward again, picking up speed fast.

At almost the same time the three promised battle groups, a mottled array of stealth cruisers and dreadnaughts, arrived at the battle site and immediately inserted themselves into the corridor that had been prepared for them by Chi'in's fighters. Palleon was grinning to himself when he saw the finished result of that clever maneuver. The outcome was a sandwich of different layers of friend and foe, and Thrawn had placed his own forces so that they again were pressing inward, against the enemy, instead of the other way round. Spreading out from Almashin there was the first layer, Voss Parck's stealth cruisers – and by now Almashin's gun emplacements on the ground had joined their fire – then a set of Yuuzhan Vong ships that had planned on defending their own, landing vessels, then the Chiss newcomers – fresh troops that threw their weight into the battle with visible enthusiasm – then another set of Yuuzhan Vong ships, and finally the Grand Admiral's own forces.

"I guess we're even now," the captain breathed, but Thrawn shook his head.

"They are breaking through the first line of defense, and will concentrate the invasion on Almashin. They will force us to surrender or else risk the planet's annihilation," he explained soberly.

Palleon's mouth tightened in anguish. "Is there anything we can do to prevent that from happening?" he asked quietly. The Grand Admiral's answer was prompt and curt:

"No. I pray that Lord Skywalker can convince them that invading Almashin is the last mistake they have made here today."

"We have a legion stationed toward the mountains, another toward the city," Voss Parck told the Dark Lord, frowning in concentration. "I don't think there's any point in risking one of them to attack that landing site on its own." He pointed at the large area they had marked off as being currently occupied by Yuuzhan Vong troop carriers. "If we move either one, they will be easy meat for their coralskippers. We have identified three more landing sites here, here and here. They are trying to close off the capital," he added.

"I can see that," Skywalker answered mildly. "The question is how to counter their measures. We will need fast carriers to move small groups to crucial sites. That way we may be able to avoid a wholesale massacre. What's this?" he asked suddenly, pointing at a grayish shadow at the very edge of the screen.

Parck immediately let the computer focus on that section, It was enlarged and identified instantly. The admiral's eyes widened ever so slightly. "It's the Starhammer, sir. The Starhammer, the Star of Alderaan, the Rebel Hope II and five more. Eight star destroyers. Judging by the speed they're currently under, they'll be within range in one hour."

"One hour," Anakin Skywalker echoed. "Then let's hope that your ships in orbit can hold out a little while longer. All right. We are splitting the legions into fifty contingents each. I want each contingent to man three carriers. Two additional ones will be empty and serve both as bait and as cover. You said we have two hundred Armored Assault Vehicles? We will split them into four battle groups and use them to seal off Anmedra. Quick now. We don't have any time to lose."

But Voss Parck couldn't react. His eyes were locked on another screen before him, on which an emergency message was displayed in all its cruelly precise detail. It had to have come in within the past few seconds.

"What is it?" the Dark Lord snapped impatiently.

Turning his head to face him, Admiral Voss Parck felt himself age by decades. "Csilla has fallen," he said, his voice trembling a bit. "Which means we cannot expect any reinforcements to come from that direction."

"General Sa'lym'a?"

"Missing, presumably dead." He straightened slowly, shrugging the shock off almost casually. They had their own battle to deal with. "Very well. Let's get moving."

Abandoning the civilian transports had been the hardest choice Lorth Needa had ever had to make. He had not left them completely defenseless, of course not, but he had decided to withdraw eight of his remaining twelve star destroyers to assist the ground defense of Almashin. The battle in space around the planet had moved into a temporary deadlock, with each force trying to overwhelm the other. He had barely been able to appreciate the Grand Admiral's brilliant maneuver, that had turned the slaughter of their forces back into an orderly battle, but now that the Starhammer was moving back toward the battle-field, the admiral could not suppress a proud little smile.

Suddenly a claxon started wailing urgently, causing a few officers present on the bridge to grimace ever so slightly.

"Report," Needa snapped, and his second was with him instantly.

"Unidentified vessels starboard, approaching fast," Pter Feynhard informed him quickly.

"Unidentified? Hail them immediately." Unidentified newcomers only meant that they belonged neither to the battle groups they had incorporated into their calculations for the battle of Almashin nor to the Yuuzhan Vong forces. But it by no means meant that they were friendly.

"I have made contact," Captain Feynhard announced a moment later. "Their leader wishes to speak to our supreme commander." He held his head-comm out toward the admiral, who snatched it up somewhat brutally.

"This is Admiral Lorth Needa, commander of the secondary task force of the Chiss-New Republic Alliance. Identify yourself."

"I will only confer with your supreme commander," a voice, decidedly young and decidedly arrogant, answered curtly.

"Our supreme commander is currently somewhat busy, young man," Needa retorted snidely. "I fear you will have to contend yourself with me. State your case. And don't forget the identification this time, or else we will open fire. This is the only warning you will get."

Feynhard waved at him, trying to get his attention. "We've identified the ship type," he stage-whispered. "They are clawcraft. Chiss," he added helpfully. Needa gave him an appreciative nod, still waiting for an answer. It came at last, and the other spoke as briskly as he had before.

"Admiral Needa," he said, "I am Major Kalo'wyn, in command of First Royal Flight. Or what's left of it," he growled under his breath. "You may not yet be aware of it, but Csilla was attacked by an overwhelming Yuuzhan Vong force two days ago. The capital has fallen and the Emperor has been taken prisoner. We assume that he is with the battle group currently engaging your fleet."

"And now you want to free him? Tough luck," Needa replied coldly. "A kind advice for your benefit, Major, you will be better off joining us than trying to bail him out all by yourselves."

"Good advice, Admiral. I can see that your forces and ours are indeed busy and will be unable to assist us. Permission to join your command?"

"Permission granted, Major," the admiral answered with a smile. "Please hold yourselves available for further instructions." He disconnected the call and immediately rounded on Feynhard. "How many ships?"

"Fifteen," came the prompt reply. "Not very much."

"I wouldn't dismiss them easily. You and I both know the Chiss are no braggarts, and when this Major Kalo'wyn was seriously considering to attack the enemy on his own, his bravery has to have some merit. I guess you don't get to be commander of First Royal Flight just like that. Not with the Chiss." He frowned at the various screens spread out before him. "All right. As soon as we are within range you will relay all friendly ground activity on the forward screen and have the trackers mark the enemy landing sites. Those we are going to hit first. Perhaps Major Kalo'wyn and his people can run cover along with our own boys. And if we can crank this wreck up to more speed I'd appreciate it greatly," he added.

It is any commander's fate having to keep a level head in any situation. While bombs and molten rock projectiles impacted all around, as men were dying amidst explosions and the sky was raining death and destruction on frightened troops, it was their commander who still had to determine where to throw in another handful of soldiers, when to retreat, where to increase the defenses. With the men and women of contingents one to fifty, formerly Legion Gold, that task fell to Anakin Skywalker.

He was trying very hard to not let the memories of the battles on Nirauan get to him, and desperately tried to use what he had learned so far to mute his all too acute awareness of the death and suffering of the beings around him to a more bearable level. If he could not succeed with that he would be useless. But so far he seemed to be winning the battle against nausea and dizziness. Jogging toward his personal speeder vehicle, the Dark Lord was already scanning the distant frontline he sought to join next, determining its weak spots and thinking up countermeasures to balance them out.

He hopped onto the vehicle's transport platform and the speeder took off instantly. One of the troopers manning the transport nodded at him and handed him a set of head-phones.

"Admiral Parck," the Chiss explained curtly when Anakin accepted the head-phones.

"Skywalker here! What's new?" Anakin shouted over the constant roar of battle filling the background.

"We've cracked their transmission code!" Parck shouted back. "Seems as if the Warmaster himself is down here to conduct the battle!"

"Location?"

"East of your position! Closing in on Anmedra!"

"Excellent! Remember the codename Puket used to address me back on Nirauan? Next time you contact me use that one!"

"Understood, Cor'dan!" The connection broke.

So. The warmaster himself. Though it was tempting, Anakin refrained from seeking the creature out. On the contrary. Let him chase across the battle-field to get at him. During the entire campaigns the Yuuzhan Vong had to have gotten two things straight. The Chiss-New Republic Alliance had two primary commanders. One, Grand Admiral Thrawn, they had engaged in space battles a few times by now, and he was currently conducting the efforts of the alliance's forces at Almashin. The other they had met on Nirauan, where he had made quite an impression on them with his sorcery, Anakin was sure. In addition to what Warmaster Marayl Carr had experienced on Laa'kuan with the late Roj Kell, that offered only one conclusion to this thought.

Marayl Carr would mount any effort necessary to kill the Cor'dan himself.

Anakin twisted around in his precariously balanced seat on top of the transport platform to gaze at the gray-skinned alien seated in a crouch behind him. Andarack looked expectantly up at him out of huge dark eyes. Andarack, who had been Franzis Sarreti's Sith agent, who was now serving the Dark Lord. A Noghri with very special abilities.

"My lord," the young alien began, sensing the other's mood. "How may I serve you?"

"I am planning on moving the frontlines toward Anmedra," Anakin explained at length. "I want you to take a speeder bike and infiltrate the capital. You will wait there until I give you permission to join the battle again."

"My lord, Chi'in clan Rim'kai specifically ordered me to act as your bodyguard," the Noghri protested. Anakin smiled.

"I know. And you will fulfill that assignment too, I promise. Now get going."

When another icon representing one of his fighters winked out Chi'in flinched ever so slightly.

Of the forty flights only half were left, and even Black Flight had suffered some losses, like the one just now. With a heavy heart the Noghri Sith Lord keyed his comm to Black Lead's private frequency.

"Report, Black Lead," he ordered quietly.

For a while there was silence at the other end, and Chi'in imagined the other's face, seated in the flexible pilot-couch of the modified TIE-fighter, watching the battle outside, watching the explosions highlighted on the viewport bubble like bright fireworks.

When Naas Deron answered his voice was rough and devoid of emotion. "Lost Black Two on the last run, sir."

"I know," Chi'in answered gently.

"I suppose she was too late to avoid that last volley."

"She was tired. You must be tired too," the Noghri suggested.

"That doesn't change the facts, Master," Deron retorted, and a tiny edge had crept into his voice, a dangerous edge that Chi'in knew he had to control. The last word, he noticed, had been audible over the bridge speakers, and he sought the Grand Admiral's gaze with a frown. But Thrawn did not react. Meanwhile, Deron continued. "I guess we are all tired of this," he stated bitterly.

"Perhaps."

The entire bridge had fallen silent, each crew member realizing the importance of this exchange, each one of them aware of how serious the outcome of this conversation might become.

"Permission to resign command?" Naas Deron asked hopelessly.

"Rejected. I am sorry. We are still in the middle of this."

There was a sound close to a wail at the other end. "You cannot – " Deron broke off with a sob. "Damn!" he roared, loud enough to hurt Chi'in's sensitive ears.

"Commander Deron," the Grand Admiral injected quietly, "can you hear me?"

Again there was silence. "You were listening in on us?" The Sith Lord's voice was thick with betrayal.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Thrawn replied coolly. "Though I understand your loss, and share it, I must remind you of the duties you accepted when joining my command, Master Deron. I will make no exceptions. Not for anyone, or any reason."

The silence was even longer this time, and Chi'in felt his heart shrink ever so slowly, turning into a hard knot of empathy and suppressed fear.

"I understand," Naas Deron said at last, and the Noghri could sense the peace that flooded the other's awareness suddenly. He had made his choice. Taking the head-phones off, Chi'in closed his eyes. "In that case, Grand Admiral, I regret having to leave your command," Deron continued. "You claim to understand, and I trust those aren't just empty words. Not that I care," he added with a cruel laugh. "Don't worry, though. I won't abandon the battle. I am sorry, Master. But I owe it to her," he concluded in a whisper.

Then there was only static.

Chi'in swallowed his sorrow bitterly, before he resumed his own task. "Black Three. Come in."

"Yes, sir?"

"Ashford, you will assume command of Black Flight."

"Now? But, sir –"

"No but. Simply follow my orders. That is easy enough, right?"

"Yes, sir. What about – "

"Naas Deron is leaving Black Flight effectively. You are answerable directly to me. And no more explanations, Commander Ashford."

With finalty he cut the newly appointed commander off and stared moodily into the distance. First Cronn, now Puket, and Deron most probaly wouldn't survive either. He was bent on avenging his lover with all means available to him, and Chi'in already pitied any Yuuzhan Vong vessel that crossed the desperate Sith Lord's path. When the first devastating explosion of Dark Side power spread across the battle-field like a shock-wave, the Noghri took a deep, needed breath. He had to move on, no matter what.

Back on Almashin the ground forces under Admiral Parck's command had fought their way toward the besieged city of Anmedra vailantly, and very soon the enemy would break through the defensive front comprised of two hundred AAVs. Once that happened, this battle would turn into very nasty street fights, and for the sake both of troopers and civilians that had to be avoided at all costs.

Crouching behind a mobile machine gun, Anakin was trying to understand what Parck was trying to tell him. But there was too much interference. On a side note, he was pleased to hear the word 'Cor'dan' at least four times during the otherwise unsuccessful transmission. Good. If Marayl Carr had so far still been unsure about his nemesis' exact position, this short exchange should have given him a respectable lead to follow.

"Run!" the sergeant commanding the machine gun's crew shouted suddenly, and Anakin almost laughed as he scrambled away, before a sizeable piece of super-heated rock smashed the gun and sent white-hot splinters flying wildly. He jumped to his feet unharmed, and squinted calculatingly at the not so distant houses. At a gesture of his hand the ground was torn open in a straight line from his own position straight through the thickest of battle, and toppled one of the Yuuzhan Vong's own armored vehicles. It exploded spectacularly.

Then Anakin sprinted toward the confused soldiers, detaching the handle of his lightsaber from his belt. Holding it in both hands he ignited the weapon and felt strenghtened by the reassuringly familiar snap-hiss as the red blade came to life. He plunged into the midst of Yuuzhan Vong warriors recklessly, throwing all caution over board. The Force was dancing within and without him, leading his movements and alerting him to any threat before it could even arise. Never before had he felt so connected with the Force, never before had he felt so comfortable with his own power. Despite the seriousness of the situation he felt like laughing.

When a tall Yuuzhan Vong warrior, easily distinguishable from the others by the blood-red cloak of command secured at his shoulders by sharp, claw-like bone extensions, Anakin smiled for real. He held out his blade in a formal salute, but the Warmaster's amphistaff was already swinging at him, echoing the ferociousness of Marayl Carr's attack. Falling back two steps, Anakin dropped to one knee and drew his lightsaber across his adversary's belly as he rose again. Marayl Carr whirled away unscathed, his tough body armor having deflected the cut completely. He held the amphistaff apart from his body, ready to strike again.

The attack came fast, and Anakin only had a split-second of warning, before the sharp edge of the staff cut at his legs. He jumped high, releasing the lightsaber from his grasp, and sent it tumbling end over end at the totally surprised Yuuzhan Vong. The Warmaster avoided decapitation through sheer luck. With startling agility he launched himself at the laser sword that had dropped to the ground beside him, and snatched up the handle deftly only a heart-beat before Anakin landed in front of him with a heavy thud. The smile that appeared on the Yuuzhan Vong's mutilated features was positively mean, and reaked of satisfaction.

"Will you, too, call for your gods for help?" he teased the Dark Lord, baring sharp teeth in a cruel grin.

Anakin did not answer. Concentrating solely on the Warmaster, he did not even consider tearing his weapon free of the other's grasp. That was entirely unnecessary. Let Marayl Carr believe he was at his mercy, unarmed and alone amidst enemies. Indeed, more Yuuzhan Vong were closing in on the two combatants now, watching in fascination. Feinting left, Anakin made as if he was going to try and get his lightsaber back, and Marayl Carr immediately seized the opportunity to bring his own blade up. It came to rest against the Dark Lord's bared throat, pressing painfully into his flesh. Marayl Carr's expression turned triumphant, and out of the corner of his eyes Anakin could see the Warmaster's wrist rotate slowly, preparing to take his adversary's head right off. Just then the Dark Lord's eyes sought the Yuuzhan Vong Warmaster's gaze.

"Wrong move, little slave," he hissed, a nasty smile on his face.

Marayl Carr's eyes widened in surprise and revelation, and to his credit he reacted instantly, whirling around to face the Noghri who was already moving in for the kill. Not without at least trying to behead Anakin, though, who dropped to the ground just in time. That way the Dark Lord had a spectacular view of what happened next. Jumping high, Andarack elegantly sailed over the amphistaff slashing at him, and with a predator's grace twisted his body around as he passed Marayl Carr's head, to plunge his drawn dagger straight into the creature's flesh at the base of his neck, severing the Warmaster's spine instantly. He dropped to the ground at the staggering Yuuzhan Vong's back light as a feather, and in anticipation of what was to come, Anakin pressed his face firmly into the soft ground in front of him.

The blinding light explosion that Andarack commanded so well, was timed in unison with the thunderclap Anakin knew to be the impact of a star destroyer's heavy laser batteries. The Starhammer and her sister ships unleashed the awesome might of the well-named battle cruisers with pinpoint accuracy. Their fire slammed into the armored battle vehicles and ground them into the earth with ease, killing Yuuzhan Vong soldiers and war-beasts alike. Anakin fought for breath in the aftermath of that first wave of destruction.

Instantly, Andarack dropped to his knees beside him. "My lord, are you all right?" he asked worriedly, laying a small, clawed hand on Anakin's sweaty forehead. The Dark Lord turned glassy eyes on the Sith.

"It will pass," he managed. "Help me up." Once standing again, Anakin noticed a familiar figure running across the battle-field to meet him. "Parck!" he roared. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"This battle is over!" the admiral told him, laughing, as he stopped before him. "Needa is hacking them to pieces!"

The Dark Lord took a deep breath. "Excellent," he pressed out, fighting down his nausea valiantly. "Continue the offensive."

He risked a glance up at the sky, but there was no chance to get a glimpse of the battle in space overhead. He could only hope that their victory down here would not be in vain. And then a powerful blast of darkness tore through his body, paralysing him for a single moment. Confused, he tried to determine the source of the outburst, and found it quickly. It shattered his heart into tiny pieces of grief as he realized what had happened up there.

"Lord Skywalker, what is it?" Voss Parck asked anxiously, as he watched both Anakin and Andarack gazing at the sky in disbelief.

Turning clear blue eyes on the admiral, Anakin Skywalker gathered himself again, feeling an ancient duty pull at his soul in fervent voices of grief and vengeance. "I wish I could explain," he managed, and sought Andarack's dark-eyed gaze. Time was running out, it seemed. On all of them.

TBC