Chapter 38 – Leap of Faith
Yana had spent hours in a blind stupor of confusion. She had no idea what had happened to her and her thoughts kept slipping away every time she tried to grasp one and examine it more closely. Now, being ushered through the corridors of another worldship, this one seemingly even grander and larger than the Warmaster's, she felt herself grow strangely timid and awed. How had she ever been able to hate these creatures? They were not evil at all, she could see now, they were mangificent and honorable, and she felt pride in having been chosen to increase their honor with her sacrifice. A pleased smile was plastered on the Empress' lips when her guards entered a semi-dark hold and left again, sealing the door behind them. Yana was still feeling happily ignorant of her situation when a pair of glowing red eyes appeared out of the gloom, studying her closely.
"Who are you?" a male voice asked, a voice that was clearly used to being answered and obeyed.
Yana drew herself up haughtily. "I am Empress Yana Dar, supreme ruler of the Galactic Empire," she replied coldly. "And who are you, pray?"
The stranger gave a low chuckle. "I see they have found themselves a particularly fervent servant. May I?" he added politely, but did not wait for her permission before he ran cool palms over her forehead. There was a sharp intake of breath and the hands withdrew again. Yana suddenly felt afraid.
"What?" she asked, panicking.
"Neural implants," the as of yet nameless stranger explained calmly.
He had to be a Chiss, Yana thought, and immediately a tiny voice added that there had been something important about a Chiss being the Yuuzhan Vong's captive. Something Marayl Carr had told her, bragging about the Yuuzhan Vong's victory at Csilla.
"You are the Emperor!" she exclaimed, startled.
"Yes. My name is Ja'han'mandana. At your service, Majesty," he said and Yana imagined him performing a small bow toward her. "Can you overcome the implants' influence?"
Icy shock gushed through her mind at hearing that question. Of course! That was how Alyn Cha had overwhelmed her, by using the implants! "I –" she broke off, and hot wrath suddenly filled her entire being. Once again she wrapped herself in darkness, to protect her mind this time. Clearing her throat, she whispered. "Yes. Thank you for reminding me that I can still fight back."
"Always a pleasure, "Ja'han'mandana answered drily. "Any news you can give me? I have not heard anything of my people since my capture."
Yana felt tears spring to her eyes and lay a hand on his shoulder compassionately. "I am so sorry for you," she breathed. "But good news at Almashin. The fleet held its own and the Yuuzhan Vong had to retreat."
"Excellent," came the sharp reply and he gently shrugged her hand off, a polite yet unmistakable rebuke.
Embarrassed, Yana lowered her head slightly. "What will be awaiting us here?" she asked.
"Sacrifice. My captors have told me repeatedly that their Supreme Overlord will be overjoyed to witness my death in honor of the gods. I am not certain what they seek to accomplish with such threats," he concluded, apparently amused, and the Empress could almost see him smile.
"Perhaps they simply wish to diminish your own honor, Your Highness."
"Please do not call me that," he protested gallantly. "Right now I am merely a captive. And diminishing my honor would lessen the sacrifice, as far as I understand these creatures."
"Of course." Yana frowned. "Then why – "
The door slid open again and light poured into the dark room, startling her. For the first time she had the chance to have a good look at the Chiss Emperor. She was astounded to see that he was little older than she, bald-headed and of a same height with her. His expression, she was not surprised to see, was one of calm, unpretentious nobility, that caused a stab of envy to pierce the Empress' heart. His sinewy frame was dressed in a simply cut, yet elegant uniform of a dark purple hue – a battle-uniform, she realized – with only a single star for decoration. His glowing eyes were fixed straight ahead, at the door. Following his gaze grimly, Yana drew herself up to face the Yuuzhan Vong warriors that entered the hold leisurely.
"Come," one of them snarled in Basic, and only then did Yana fully realized that Ja'han'mandana had not been implanted with neuronic controllers.
She wondered at that, but at the same time that knowledge excited her. Perhaps he would be able to do something. And at that thought she started violently. She herself could defy them! She could withstand the controllers and throw her entire might against their captors! Her elation must have shown on her face, for Ja'han'mandana regarded her pensively as one of the guards brutally pushed him past the Empress, toward the door. And then she was alone again. Yana dropped to the deck like a sack, all of her strength, her hopes suddenly gone, Tears were welling up in her eyes and she started crying bitterly, helpless against the onslaught of great waves of despair and fear that filled her head mercilessly. There was no way she could win, none at all. She only hoped that Roganda had made it after all.
Seated in the pilot's chair of the heavily-armored Imperial shuttle they had borrowed from the Star Destroyer Starhammer, Mara glanced over at her co-pilot, who seemed uncharacteristically pensive. They had left Almashin three days ago, and met a team of slicers sent by Sarreti in open space. The slicers had turned their nav log upside down, so that now the shuttle would have originated from Garqui. Sarreti had fabricated a fool-proof story for them that would make Chi'in's capture credible. The Sith had tried to infiltrate Imperial Space, he would claim, but Sarreti had anticipated such an attempt and had been proven right. Knowing how gifted an actor the former Imperial Special Agent was, Mara had no doubts that the Yuuzhan Vong would buy the Counselor's story whole. Even if the Yuuzhan Vong suspected a trap, they could still wait until they had their prey secured, before they revealed that knowledge, and that would mean the trio would still be where they were planning to be two days from now.
Aboard Supreme Overlord Shimmra's worldship.
Now they were waiting for Sarreti to provide them with their rendezvous point, and the waiting was getting on Mara's nerves. Hence the suspicious looks at Jix, who, to her small relief, seemed equally agitated. In his case though the source of the agitation would be impatience rather than fear. But Mara did feel uneasy, there was no denying it. She remembered Jix telling her that there was no need to pretend of prove anything, but even though she might wish to be able to sink in his embrace and let him comfort her, the presence of the Noghri Sith Lord in the back of the cockpit prevented her from acting on that impulse. For someone who was facing certain death, who had already experienced the cruelty of the Yuuzhan Vong first hand, Chi'in was very calm. He had not spared them a single gruesome detail of his captivity, neither the torture nor the mental assaults conducted by the yammosk. Mara shivered ever so slightly in remembrance.
Nuron and Luke had confirmed Chi'in's report, and they had also described the maze at Laa'kuan to them, the immense powers that could be channeled through the labyrinth's mirror image of the galaxy. The impending operation thus boasted three mission objectives for them to accomplish. The first objective was to infiltrate the Yuuzhan Vong worldship where Yana Dar and Emperor Ja'han'mandana were being held. That one, obviously, fell to Jix, Chi'in and Mara. And, ultimately, to Franzis Sarreti's diplomatic skills. The second objective was to gain control of the maze at Laa'kuan. Perhaps the most dangerous mission, since controlling those powers seemed very difficult indeed, as Luke Skywalker's disastrous attempt at directing those energies had proven. The Dark Lord had agreed to conducting this effort in the end, only accompanied by Andarack, Chi'in's great-nephew. In the worst case the odds would be two Sith against possibly thousands of Yuuzhan Vong troops. Mara grimaced wrily. They would probably manage nevertheless.
The third objective, then, was to knock out the giant yammosk at Kynda'bey. Since Luke and Nuron had already been into the creature's lair, and since Luke hoped to enlist the help of the semi-sentient predators populating the water world, those two would be leading that mission. They would be assisted by Ishare Luvo and five of his Shock Cruisers, plus a flight of Chiss scout ships that could be camouflaged and would allow the team a hopefully undetected approach on the planet. First Royal Flight would make the forces at Kynda'bey complete. And Thrawn? The Grand Admiral would sit back and watch their progress, until he deemed it necessary to create a major diversion. After all, there were still fifty Yuuzhan Vong ships unaccounted for. It was clear to Mara that they had to move very fast now, since any delay might allow the Yuuzhan Vong to regroup and launch a new assault on Almashin. If that happened while they were still at the Triad Worlds, trying to make the impossible happen, they would not only lose the planet, but would also be cut off from any help.
"Damn!" she grated out, the tension becoming too much.
Jix looked up at her concernedly, then gave her a crooked smile. "Hey, baby, we'll get going soon enough," he told her graciously, prompting her to grin in turn.
"Right about now," Chi'in announced just a second before the comm console started flashing with a message on receive.
Accepting the call hurriedly, Mara recorded the conversation to make sure she did not forget
anything. "This is Unit Eight," she said, "go ahead."
"Unit Eight, this is Control. Your rendezvous will take place at the following coordinates, transmitting now. The world is called Kynda'bey."
Mara swallowed hard. "Any last minute instructions, Control?"
"None," the man replied calmly. "Once the delivery has been made, stand ready for further assignments."
"Sure. Unit Eight out." Sitting back again she frowned. "Kynda'bey! Space will get pretty crowded around that planet pretty soon. That mission is doomed!"
"We have a two hour lead on Luke's team," Chi'in said soothingly from behind her chair. "And Anakin and Andarack will infiltrate Laa'kuan unnoticed, I am sure."
"I damn well hope so," Mara snorted. "If they even get a whiff of any operation taking place on Laa'kuan before we arrive, they will suspect us of anything. How are the ysalamiri doing?"
"They seem all right," Chi'in answered lightly.
They had discussed the possibility of killing the ysalamiri before going in, to give Chi'in a better basis to operate, but he had rejected that idea immediately. The Yuuzhan Vong would realize their intent too soon, then, he had argued. And he could manage even with the ysalamiri present, provided that Luke and his team succeeded in their mission to neutralize the yammosk. And what if they didn't succeed, Jix had asked. Mara remembered that the Sith Lord had merely shrugged, and said nothing. Force, she so loved being surrounded by optimists.
The black hole sat there like a dark, festering wound in the center of the triangle formed by the justly named Triad Worlds. With any luck its gravity well would also distort any scanners that may be searching the vicinity. Steering the Morning Glory closer toward Laa'kuan, Anakin Skywalker relied on his co-pilot to make sure there were no nasty surprises. It was tough maneuvering the ship – borrowed from Luke for luck – so close to a black hole, but long years of piloting about any single person craft took some of the difficulty away.
"The black hole is disrupting our scanners, " Andarack reported unnecessarily, "and I cannot sense much inside the system. A few fleeting traces, nothing more."
"Let's hope that means Yana and the Emperor are still alive," Anakin breathed, his eyes narrowed somewhat in concentration. "Where do you sense them?"
"Kynda'bey," the Noghri told him.
The Dark Lord nodded in approval. "Good. Then we'll use the black hole to cover us on a direct run toward Laa'kuan. There are no Yuuzhan Vong present that I can sense, and I should sense them."
"It never hurts to be cautious," Andarack commented gravely.
"Very true. But I am certain we won't be experiencing any trouble down there. Chances are that they've had enough of Laa'kuan after the little show Roj Kell pulled off. All right. I'll make this fast, so be prepared for a rough landing."
And with those words he ran the small yacht up to attack speed, barely slowing as they hit the planet's atmosphere. The Morning Glory shivered violently upon that impact, but Anakin deftly used the stabilizers to compensate for the breakneck speed and stress on the ship's super-structure. Like a bird of prey the yacht dived toward Laa'kuan's surface, and Anakin gritted his teeth as he used the trail of agony left behind by a particularly gruesome death to find his way to the sanctuary of the maze. It was strange, he thought, that he could sense Roj Kell's death so acutely, even though the old man's presence had been sheltered within the Force, making identifying his intentions and emotions impossible. Why this raw wound of agony now? Then the gorge came into view, stretching over five miles in a deep scar through the monotonous, dust-haunted plains of Laa'kuan.
In an instant Anakin changed his piloting style, and approached the site of the sanctuary very cautiously, intent on not disturbing anything. The Morning Glory settled on a patch of light pink grass, and once the ship's engines had been powered down, silence settled over the gorge again. Anakin and Andarack exited the yacht together, and both took a moment to grow accustomed to the magic of this place. The high cliff walls shielded the steep valley effectively, and the lush vegation down here stood in stark contrast to what else they had seen of the planet's surface. An enchanting spot in an otherwise harsh environment. Anakin smiled at the allegory this jewel presented. A fitting burial site for Roj Kell.
"Come," he said at last, nodding at his companion. "Let's go and see what we can salvage here."
They entered the maze carefully, following Chi'in's directions toward the core. Nothing seemed to have been changed since his son and his friends had fled this place. Anakin hesitated, his mouth hardening as he looked at the dust-covered body that lay in the midst of the maze's core, just the way Chi'in had described it. Finally, though, he walked closer and dropped down on his haunches beside Kell's remains. Very gently he reached out and put one hand underneath his hips, the other on his shoulder to roll him over. The body complied easily, all too easily, and the Dark Lord inhaled sharply when he realized that rigor mortis had not set in yet, and it should have, after so long. But Kell was dead, there were not two ways about it. Drops of blood had dried in a diagonal line across the ancient Sith's features. Dry blood and gore covered the entire lower half of his torso, spreading out from the horrible wound in his abdomen. For a long moment Anakin was transfixed by the sight, trying to imagine what it would have been like.
But then he shook the images off again and instead reached out to lay his palm on the old man's forehead. Kell's eyes were closed, and Anakin asked himself whether that was a good sign, that he had not suffered all through the end, but had mercifully lost consciousness at some point. Then he noticed the odd angle at which the head hung limply, and found that the Sith's neck had been smashed. Probably that blow had ended the man's suffering and killed him effectively. Then why did he appear to have died only a few moments ago? Why?
"My lord," Andarack said quietly as he stepped up to Anakin, and the Dark Lord turned his head to look up at the Noghri. Andarack held a quarterstaff in his hands. "I found this."
"Go look for more traces. There must be more," Anakin ordered, more out of a desire to be left alone than curiosity.
"Yes, my lord, at once."
The warrior melted into the labyrinth like a ghost, and Anakin returned his attention to the body before him. "Come on," he whispered softly. "I know you are here." Nothing happened. "All right," he sighed at last, and closed his eyes. If he had to do this alone, then he would do this alone.
It always seemed easier for him to find his focus with eyes closed, and it was no different this time. But he nearly jumped, when he felt something brush against his mind. Suddenly he could see, even though his eyes weren't open, but what he saw was not anything he had ever dreamed of seeing. The galaxy was spread around him, a net woven of golden strands of power. The celestial bodies shone like suns, but he immediately saw those that were somehow tainted, that shone weaker, not as brightly.
The maze is the focus, the guideline, a very familiar voice told him softly, reverbrating in his mind with unbridled force. Laa'kuan, Prayer, is the core of this ritual. Kynda'bey, the Focus of Reality, will translate what happens here, and Melyash, Answer, will ignite the transition of power. A matter of give and take, to take where there is plenty and give where there is too little. Anakin gradually managed to push the voice further away, to diminish its power to a more bearable level. He could almost see Roj Kell smile when the ancient Sith said: I thought you might come.
"You are doing this, am I right?"
I am doing nothing, the other replied innocently.
"As if I would believe you," the Dark Lord growled through gritted teeth.
Stop fretting, my lord. You have come to undo the damage your son has caused. So let's get to it.
Anakin wanted to protest, wanted to tell the other that no, he was not going to clean up after his son, that he was going to destroy the yammosk at Kynda'bey, but somehow the words wouldn't come. Taking a deep breath, Anakin made himself calm down once more. Cleansing his mind of any thought, he let the galaxy's song speak to him, listening to its tales of dying stars and violated planets, black holes that did not belong. It seemed to take an eternity for him to find this deeper focus, but once he had reached that state of being one with the galaxy the light began rushing at him, smothering him in an ocean of emotions, pictures and sounds. He remembered the gift Roj Kell had given him on Nirauan, but this was a billion times what he had experienced back then. Still, somehow this time he was not overwhelmed by the chaos. Something was shielding his mind against the onslaught.
He gave the vast presence surrounding him a tentative nudge and found it speeding away, out of control. It took a supreme effort to rein the stray strands of power in again, and very soon Anakin started sweating inside his skin, fumbling his way through a procedure that required the deftest manipulation, the most gentle touch. He only had a general idea of what he was about to do, but the deeper he let himself fall into the web of life, the clearer he could see. At any other time he would have been amazed at the details, but now he regarded the connections and relations like the schematic of a very complicated mechanical construction. And he was good with machines and fixing them. First he had to know how things worked, and only then could he follow the net outward and set the tiniest detail into relation to a world's ecosystem, to the star system and the galaxy itself. A tedious task.
But he could feel the changes he effected resonate in his own presence, could feel his fluttering nerves ease, his feelings cool down and reach an almost placid state. The further he went, the more he felt at peace, the faster he could work. After a while he no longer felt nervous at all. Instead he found himself responding to the web surrounding him, letting it guide him to some extent, to where the small grains of power he had harvested were needed. There was Nirauan, like a dark, festering wound, where alien organisms were straining to smother the planet's original ecosystem. But the Yuuzhan Vong world shaping had left more victims behind, and Anakin took care of every single one. Time did not matter. He had all the time in the world. With a smile he nudged a small, insignificant world on the Outer Rim back into its original balance, a surprise for a dear friend. Then there was only the black hole left, that his son had so inadvertedly opened in the center of the triangle of Kynda'bey, Laa'kuan and Melyash. It did not belong there at all.
In the end he simply floated in the midst of what he had accomplished, a perfect balance, a perfect web of life. Everything was the way it should be, and from that basis they could start anew. For a blissful moment he was lost in that perfection, and for that blissful moment his existence ended. Only when he woke again, his eyes flying open in shocked surprise, did he understand that this was exactly what he had been spared. To lose himself in service to that balance. Then he stood trembling in the center of the sanctuary on Laa'kuan once more, feeling his own self crash back into his awareness with brilliant clarity. Finally, when he was himself again, he heaved a deep sigh. It was done.
"Lord Skywalker!" Andarack skidded to a halt beside him, confusion plain on his alien features. "What happened?"
Looking at his companion curiously, the Dark Lord asked: "What did you feel?"
"Nothing in particular," Andarack stammered. "It is just a feeling, that something has changed. Look!" He pointed into the sky excitedly. "The black hole is gone! How – " His huge eyes refocused on Anakin once more. "You did that. Am I right?"
"Who cares?" Clapping the short alien's shoulder amiably, the Dark Lord smiled. "What else did you find?"
"Only this coat," the Noghri replied irritably, holding up a brown bundle. "There are signs of battle, a few corpses. I still do not understand –"
"It does not matter," Anakin explained patiently. "Come. We have an appointment to keep. Prepare our ship for take-off. I will join you in a moment." He gave the body lying at his feet a long look. "There is something I have to finish here first."
Following his gaze, Andarack hesitated for a moment, but then left again. Anakin did not watch him go, instead he was focused on what he could feel around him, filling the maze's core with the distant hum of something elusive. It permeated the air, the rock, everything, and in his mind's eye it was everything, without distinction. He smiled tentatively, cherishing the peace. For a long moment he stood like that, totally immersed in timelessness and understanding.
"Wow," he said at last, heart-felt. A low chuckle reached his ears and he turned his head to look at the figure seated on a piece of the broken spire. "What is so funny?" he challenged the ancient Sith.
"Forgive me. I am not laughing at you. Not at all." Rising from his seat, Roj Kell walked toward him slowly, his spectral form trailing strands of golden light. Anakin took a step back when his gaze met that of his counterpart. Freed of all the bonds of civilization he had imposed on his own spirit over the millennia, those pale eyes became so intense that looking into them was unbearable. "I know exactly what it feels like. So, you have succeeded? You have destroyed the Yuuzhan Vong?"
"We have destroyed most of their fleet, yes," Anakin replied in a whisper, still feeling the anguish of that sacrifice.
"And you believe that takes care of the threat they pose?"
"No, it doesn't. But taking someone's belief away is wrong too, isn't it? You said so yourself."
"Showing them the truth is not wrong, Anakin," Roj Kell answered quietly. "It will take the magic, the myth away, yes, but they have twisted the truth around, have forsaken their old ideals. Just like the Jedi." He hesitated." The Jen'da sect consisted of wise philosophers from all over the galaxy, who sought to unite the people that live here. Yet they used words and reason to justify their views. They did not seek to change others through brute force. And then the Jen'da evolved into something different. They promoted peace, called themselves knights, and that title alone shows the schism that permeated the Jedi philosophy for millennia. A knight protects the people, serves them, yet he chooses to serve them through their rulers. That can, and will be exploited, if possible. The Jedi claimed to be keepers of the peace. Who gave them the right? The intent was valiant, undoubtedly, but they grew to be righteous. They set themselves apart from the people, became self-referential, yet bowed to the government. As a knight would do too. Do you understand what I am telling you?"
Anakin nodded slowly. "You are saying that the justification for their deeds was derived from what they embodied, and that image was created not from need but philosophy. It became a double-edged sword." He closed his eyes briefly, to recapture that feeling of awe-inspiring unity. "We were always told that everything is part of the Force. The logical conclusion has to be that everyone can come to understand the Force, and to respect it. There is no need for an elite order to take the responsibility from the leaders the people choose for themselves. Yet the Jedi could have served as guides, as teachers for those who wished to learn. A religious force more than a protective force. Am I right?"
"Who am I to answer that question?" Kell asked softly, and Anakin gave him a surprised glance.
"If not you, who then?"
"Anakin, I do not understand your rules. I know what they mean, what purpose they serve, but all that remains theory to me. I can only give you an outline of logical reasoning, but that is the schism that defines my own belief. The knowledge I have stands in contrast to the empathy I have for the Force. My knowledge cannot ever be equal to that empathy. I can never be whole, yet I am complete. Fully so." He smiled. "And now more so than ever."
"I understand," the Dark Lord breathed at last, feeling miserable. "A heavy burden that you have given me."
"Not a burden. A beginning." A spectral hand brushed his cheek in a featherlight gesture both of compassion and caring, and Anakin averted his gaze to avoid the ancient Sith's eyes. But the old man's voice was inescapable. "You are not alone in this. You never were," Roj Kell told him quietly. "Now go."
"What will you be doing?" Anakin asked, feeling suspicious. After all, three thousand years of meddling could not just be shed like some old cloak. "More messing with destiny?"
"Destiny?" Kell echoed, brows arched in mock indignation. "I believe in chance, Anakin. That is what defines the chaos that fills everything. What you have to follow to survive. You have powerful allies, and the mind to guide them. Now, please, again, you must go."
Bewildered, the Dark Lord looked up to stare at the ancient Sith's spirit. "Why the hurry?"
"I have shown you the way. That is all I can do for you, Anakin," Kell answered solemnly. "You are not like me, and that means your limits are different. In a sense you have more freedom of movement, but also more responsibility. I pray you have learned enough to handle that. One last thing." He gestured at the body lying at the maze's center. "Never forget that you are mortal. What you embody is life, nothing less. Be true to that."
With those words the specter faded away, drawing back into the labyrinth and leaving only silence. Shaking his head to get rid of the sudden feeling of deprivation that filled his heart, Anakin frowned. But then, almost reverentially, he reached out to the Force again, to find himself the center of a glowing web of gold once more. The center, and yet part of so much more. Delving deeper into that web he was unsure what to look for. Why the hurry, he had asked. Something was going on, something that needed solving. And then he found it. A desperate call, that conveyed much more than need. It told him something about the future, a future he could not ever let come to pass again.
Having dried her tears bravely, Yana felt stubbornly defiant when it was her turn to be brought before the Supreme Overlord Shimmra. Ja'han'mandana had not yet been returned to the hold in hours, but she suspected that she would meet him again in Shimmra's lair on board the worldship. Doubt gushed through her mind when she considered the other possibility, that he had been sacrificed – murdered – already. But then she would have felt his death, wouldn't she? Yana shivered delicately as she rose to follow her captors into the corridor outside. It was a long way, during which her apprehension only grew more, and she found herself losing control over her mind again. Briefly closing her eyes she forced herself to remain calm, using an image of Franzis Sarreti's earnest face and cool grey eyes as a reminder. She hoped he was all right, and she also hoped, much more timidly, that he had somehow, miraculously, found some way to free her after all.
Her senses heightened indefintely, she became for the first time fully aware of the ship's design. Bones, covered by sheer membranes, held the high ceiling up, and there was a fragrant scent in the air, musky and familiar. The sweet chirping of insects filled her ears, and she found herself growing more tranquil, the closer she came toward the Supreme Overlord's presence. It soothed her, sang to her, an ancient song of kinship and glory. In a far corner of her mind the Empress knew very well that she was somehow being manipulated again, but she had been caught off guard, and her dark shield was out of reach. Finally they entered a majestic chamber, dominated by a dais of writhing polyps on which rested a strange creature shrouded in shadows. Only its eyes were visible, a startling display of all different colors of the galaxy. Suddenly Yana found that she stood alone. Her guards had remained at the doorway, leaving her to walk into Shimmra's revered presence alone.
And she did feel the honor, the elation at being allowed into his presence, at being allowed to bask in his radiance. Her heart felt ridiculously jubilant, and she could think of nothing else than the awe-inspiring creature that gazed upon her graciously. Yana felt her lips part, enthralled by what she was experiencing, and she was about to throw herself to the deck in an overwhelming need to show the magnificent Shimmra how much she worshipped his greatness, when a low moan caught her attention. Suddenly horrified, her blue eyes wide, she slowly turned her head to the left, and flinched. She had taken no notice of the other occupant of the chamber previously, so enchanted had she been, but now, staring straight at him, she could hardly ignore his presence.
Perversely reminiscent of tears, blood was trailing down Ja'han'mandana's cheeks from empty sockets that had once held a pair of glowing red eyes. Totally shocked, Yana found herself crying for real in sympathy and helpless grief. Raising a hand up to cover her mouth and still the scream rising from the depth of her heart, she took a step toward the Chiss, who stood rooted in place, his limbs secured by some gooey mass, she noticed only now. His uniform was dark with stains of blood, and his light blue skin had turned pale, the hue of an early morning sky. His lips, though, pressed tightly together, were twitching in a strange smile, that prompted Yana to shake her head in quiet disbelief.
Then a voice rose from the creature on the dais, a mere whisper, laced with power. "And what sacrifice are you willing to make, Empress Yana Dar, for your defiance and pride?"
Taken by a terrible rage, Yana ignored the taunting words and threw a hand out at the Emperor, flaying the jelly covering his arms and legs right off his skin and clothes. The sticky mass impacted against the bulkhead with a thud, and Ja'han'mandana laughed out aloud.
"Oh, well done, Your Highness!" he exclaimed, and Yana was grinning at the strangeness of the whole situation, and managed a perfect curtsy that he, of course, could not see.
A moment later she found herself down on her knees, gasping for breath as a horrible head-ache seemed to bore right through her brain. Ja'han'mandana had joined her on the deck, moaning softly.
"Enough!" Shimmra roared. "You dare mock me with your games!"
Raising her head with difficulty, Yana gazed up into those ever-changing eyes. The Supreme Overlord held her gaze easily, and bit by bit the Empress found herself retreating before its intensity, and looked away, gritting her teeth.
"Unworthy infidels," he breathed, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "Your days are numbered. You dared defy the might of the Yuuzhan Vong, dared defy the might of our gods! The two of you shall perish in the knowledge that your peoples' lives are forfeited. And your death will bring glory to our gods and wash away the shame you have caused them with your very existence."
Yana was hauled upright again. Ja'han'mandana, already standing, held his head high, and somehow she found that his ruined eyes were even more proud and defiant than when they had been whole.
Emboldened by the Emperor's courage, Yana declared: "The galaxy shall know the blasphemy of the Yuuzhan Vong, Shimmra. And it will know your crimes. I will not have it any other way."
The Supreme Overlord's booming laughter wrapped them in think layers of contempt. "Pitiful creature that you are, Empress Yana Dar, your threats are certainly amusing. My allies report the capture of a Jedi, one who has escaped us before. He will not escape this time, though, and will join you in sacrifice today. Prepare them," he added softly, and then Yana and Ja'han'mandana were being led away again.
"A powerful threat," the Chiss murmured earnestly. "I dearly hope you can back it up with action, Empress."
Shivering, Yana closed her eyes.
There was no way they could keep their aproach a secret, not with a fleet of twenty Yuuzhan Vong cruisers surrounding Kynda'bey. Luke felt his breath catch at the sight, but Ishare Luvo did not seem to be fazed at all. The small battle-group of five Shock Cruisers plunged toward the world's vast ocean in a straight line, and, once inside the planet's atmosphere, launched First Royal Flight under Major Kalo'wyn's command. Then the lead ship continued its way, leaving the rest to cover their escape. When the cruiser hit the water surface, Luke winced ever so slightly. There was a jolt, and the ship seemed to be suspended for a moment, before it vanished beneath the giant waves of the ocean.
"We're in," Ishare Luvo announced coolly. "Call allies now. I prepare my troops."
Nodding hurriedly, the young Jedi almost forgot to fit his breathing device between his teeth and and over his nose. He could already hear the rush of salt water flooding the ship to accelerate their descent toward the lower levels of the sea. Wearing a thermo-suit to shield his body against the icy cold, Luke watched the Lappa crew calmly shed their loose-fitting robes and marveled at their sleek, fur-covered bodies that had evolved on a world very similar to this one. One of the crewers motioned at Luke to hold on to the railing that ran around the command pit of the bridge, and a moment later the young Jedi was caught in a powerful maelstream as the sea invaded the Shock Cruiser brutally. He lost his purchase, flailing wildly but ineffectively at the mass of water crashing over his head, before a hand grabbed his arm and dragged him toward what he thought was the ceiling, but knew to be the bottom. He had seen the hatches to the exit tubes' pressure chambers earlier on their voyage.
Following Nuron, for it was her, he checked for the harpoon-thrower secured on his back and the quiver filled with harpoons hanging from his belt. A brief trip through the exit tunnel followed, then they dived out into the ocean. Luke could not help but turn toward the surface to gaze at the beautiful display of light and silence that was the world of the Mahsenda. Then Nuron appeared in his field of vision and pointed behind him, urging him to go on. With the slow grace of a being unaccustomed to life in the water, Luke suppressed a sudden oppressive feeling. He had been raised on a desert world, for Force's sake! Though he found the magic of the sea fascinating, and had even learned to swim during his years with the Rebel Alliance, he still felt pretty uneasy, so far away from fresh air and real sunlight, in this filtered gloom that permeated the depths.
Reigning his fear in, he joined the Lappa and Nuron at a giant cliff, that rose from the sea bottom up into the distant sky. Then they began the steep climb, using the rocky ledges as purchase. Ishare Luvo and his warriors, mouths wide open to allow their gills to let them breathe under water, were moving swiftly, their slender shapes darting up the cliff with astounding agility. Luke was consoling himself with reminding himself that he did not need to be so quick, that he was here to direct the Mahsenda, after all. When the Force-sensitive aquatic predators finally began arriving, curious about who was calling to them, Luke was smiling. He watched their giant bodies, almost invisible against the blue of the ocean, glide toward him majestically, then explained what he needed them to do. Two of their own had died in their last attack on the yammosk, and they were reluctant to help again, but Luke was throwing all of his hopes into his plea, and in the end they agreed to join their battle.
Suddenly a few rocks the size of barrels drifted past them on their way down, and Luke looked up in bewilderment, before he realized that First Royal Flight and the remaining four Shock Cruisers had begun the ground assault that was meant to lure the yammosk's guardians to the surface. They needed to hurry now. Kicking off the cliff ledge he had been resting on, Luke started his ascent to the secret passage the Mahsenda had used the last time to gain access to the underground grotto that was the yammosk's lair. He dearly hoped that the opposition they would undoubtedly encounter there could be broken swiftly. But his wish went, sadly, unanswered.
They had not been allowed to land the shuttle aboard the worldship, but instead had had to change transport quite awkwardly. Chi'in – that lucky bastard – had spent the transition in a trance that was meant to look like the effects of a sedative, and Jix really envied him. Those creatures the Yuuzhan Vong used as cofferdam simply were disgusting. Their welcome committee, composed of twenty tough-looking soldiers in heavy armor, had scrutinized both Jix and Mara, as well as the ysalamiri, before they had taken charge of the 'prisoner', carrying him off into the bowels of the ship. Now Jix and Mara found themselves alone amidst enemies.
Nothing new there, Jix thought sourly, but these aliens made him slightly nervous. Chi'in had reminded them over and over again to wait for his signal before they acted, but the Corellain was itching to get into action right then and there. Instead, he was placidly following Mara and a weird-looking Yuuzhan Vong female toward what they had been told where the Shapers' laboratories, if he had understood correctly. He and Mara were carrying a nutrient-cage on their backs each, and the ysalamiri did not seem to be disturbed by their strange surroundings at all.
It took them ten long minutes to get from the hangar to the laboratories, and Jix was not entirely sure if he would be able to find the way back all by himself. The female guide exchanged some words with another alien, before they were admitted into the Shapers' realm. It was a nightmare. Jix could tell by Mara's stance how disgusted she was, but there was hardly anything he could do to ease her mind, was there? Taking a good look around, he carefully shrugged out of the harness that had secured the nutrient-frame to his back, and held the cage in front of his body helpfully.
Now!
The voice was unmistakably Chi'in's, but it startled the Corellian somewhat to hear it inside his head. Ramming the nutrient cage into the shaper who was just reaching for the frame, Jix pivoted on his heel to deliver a crushing blow to the alien's windpipe. A brief struggle later he and Mara were the only ones left standing.
"Now what?" Jix asked, frowning.
Mara shrugged nonchalantly. "Chi'in said we were to cause some mayhem and wait for him to join us. So I guess that's what we're gonna do." Hefting her blaster, she pointed at the nutrient frames and nodded. "I'll leave the heavy weaponry to you."
With an exasperated sigh that he did not really mean, Jix began dismantling the cages, leaving the two ysalamiri to slither off the camouflaged metal rods that concealed a few dozen slender harpoons and a crossbow to go with them. "All right," he said at last, straightening again. "I'm as ready as can be."
The smile Mara gave him sent a hot wave of affection surging through his body, and he returned it in kind. "Let's play," she said, quoting his favourite phrase.
Together they made their way out into the corridor, searching for prey.
Luke had dropped into a defensive crouch, his lightsaber held protectively in front of his chest. At his side, Nuron's face was marred by a fierce snarl. They had made it into the grotto at last, but the opposition was even stronger than anticipated. While the Mahsenda relentlessly attacked the yammosk Yuuzhan Vong soldiers were in turn attacking the giant predators under water in an effort to protect the telepath. And on the shore of the underground lake the battle was no less fierce, reminding Luke of the last time they had been down here, to free Chi'in.
"You know," Nuron growled, "I have a feeling this isn't working the way we had it planned."
Both she and Luke were desperately trying to make a difference by using the Force to protect and actively defend their comrades, but there were too many enemies to deal with, and they themselves had to avoid being skewered by enraged Yuuzhan Vong soldiers, too.
Blocking a slash aimed at his head, Luke deftly moved aside to leave Nuron the room she needed to spear the attacker with her own blade.
"We are running out of time," she informed him coolly, always the warrior, always the guardian. And expecting him to come up with an alternate solution.
Luke gritted his teeth. "Give me a hand here," he said, pointing at the ledge running around the grotto wall two meters above his head.
"Don't do anything foolish," she reminded him, sensing what he was going to try, but she still boosted him up, as he jumped high to reach the ledge.
Landing precariously, Luke studied the array of yellow stones set into the ceiling of the grotto. Just like the maze on Laa'kuan. Unfortunately he was well aware of what disaster his tampering with the maze had sparked, but perhaps this time – When the stones lit up in a bright flash of golden light, Luke almost fell from the ledge in shock.
"Way to go, Luke!" Nuron hollered, giving him a quick thumbs-up before she resumed hacking at tough Yuuzhan Vong armor.
"But I haven't done anything yet," he whispered, more to himself than in response to her call.
Trying hard to understand what exactly was going on, he was nearly taken by surprise, when the yammosk reared up, giant head almost touching the ceiling, and a powerful tentacle whipped around to swipe the young Jedi from the ledge. Luke ducked in the last possible moment, and that probably saved his life, when the light shot forth from the stones, connecting one side of the ceiling with the other, catching the yammosk's head in the crossfire.
The creature's agonized scream was deafening.
Clapping his hands over his ears, Luke dropped from the ledge and landed safely on the rocks below. Nuron's head came around, and her golden eyes stared first at him, then at the yammosk, and then at someone standing at the edge of the pool. Following her gaze, Luke gaped at the very familiar figure that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
"Father!" he breathed.
"Incredible," Nuron commented, and he knew exactly what she meant.
The air below the grotto's ceiling was aflame with a maze of golden light, and the entire cave was charged with incredible power that raised goosebumps all over Luke's body. The last time he had felt anything like that had been when he had opened a black hole above Laa'kuan by accident. Such power ... But that was not all. The Mahsenda had given up the attack on the yammosk, it seemed, and had vanished in the depth of Kynda'bey's ocean once more. But each single Yuuzhan Vong warrior stood rooted in place, gazing up at the yammosk writhing in the unrelenting grip of the maze's power. Ishare Luvo gave the Dark Lord a curious glance, and Luke saw what was going through the Lappa's mind clearly.
"No!" he shouted, raising his hand to prevent the Lappa from butchering the spellbound Yuuzhan Vong.
The word was barely out of his mouth when his mind was flooded with a powerful image of what he recognized as the Massassi Temples of Yavin 4. He could smell the rotting vegetation of the jungle, could feel the heat of noon, could hear alien voices jabbering away in the distance. This was Yavin 4, he knew, as it had been three thousand years ago, at the eve of the Jedi attack on the planet. Before his inner eye the history of the Massassi survivors unfolded, leading him on a breath-taking journey across the galaxy, into what would later be named the Unknown Regions. He witnessed the conquest of the Jen Motha, and experienced the joy and gratitude they had felt when the gods had revealed themselves to them at last. The emotions, the pictures and sounds became his only reality, and he believed what he was seeing with every fiber of his being. This was the truth of what had happened, this was the true history of the Yuuzhan Vong.
At the same time Luke understood that Father was using the yammosk to transmit these images, that he was using the telepath that was able to reach every one of these aliens in the vicinity, to show them the truth about their heritage. Gradually, shame and confusion began rushing into the melee of images, an echo of what the Yuuzhan Vong were feeling. They had been deceived. They had been betrayed by their leaders. Resentment grew in a hot gale of emotion, the intensity of it making Luke's skin crawl. Right now he did not envy Supreme Overlord Shimmra at all ...
Chi'in could feel the yammosk reach for his mind again, and braced himself against the creature's mental attacks, when he found another presence injecting itself betwen his mind and that of the yammosk. He smiled. They had made it! Jumping up from where his captors had thrown him onto the deck, he immediately turned on his jailers, but found them caught tightly in the grasp of the yammosk's siren song. The Noghri assessed the situation thoughtfully, deciding that he could handle a ship full of paralyzed enemies without having to start a massacre, then turned away to gaze at the two other occupants of the gloomy chamber. Hanging upside down in the Embrace of Pain, Yana Dar was breathing hard, her face ashen as she tried to struggle free, and only managed to increase the pain wracking her body. Her blue eyes were blazing in a dark fire of fury and fear. Chi'in was not certain whether she recognized her situation at all. She was lost in her own mind, he knew, and it would take some effort to guide her back again.
Jix, Mara, I need your help, he sent mentally, and prayed the two of them would be with them soon.
Then he stepped toward the prisoners and proceeded to free them. The creature that was the Embrace of Pain reacted to the victim's body movements and hormone level, as Chi'in knew by first-hand experience. The more the victim struggled, the tighter the embrace, the more the victim relaxed, the more intense the pain. Therefore the first thing he did was enter the creature's awareness, grateful for Luke's inadvert use of the maze of Laa'kuan, that had allowed him and his companions to break the invisible Force-shielding that surrounded the Yuuzhan Vong and kept them blank spots in the Force.
Yana Dar dropped to the deck in a tangled heap of mangled limbs and remained there for a while, trying to recover. The Noghri let her be for the moment, moving on to the second creature, that held the body of a bald-headed Chiss. The Emperor, Chi'in mused, coldly studying the man's ruined eyes and other injuries. Chi'in was gentler with the Chiss when the creature released its victim under the Sith Lord's unrelenting urging, sensing that Yana, fueled by dark emotions, had a more effective emotional shielding than the Emperor. This one needed immediate care. What Yana needed was something else entirely.
"There you are!" he heard a familiar voice exclaim as he laid out the Chiss' trembling body on the deck.
Mara was past in two long strides, bending down to help Yana rise. The Empress accepted her aid slowly, as if in a trance, and her blue eyes were solely fixed on Chi'in, he noticed out of the corner of his eye.
"Jix," he said, ignoring Yana for now. "This is Emperor Ja'han'mandana. I give him in your care, and I want you and Mara to get him out of here, aboard the Eisenhart, if that is at all possible. Then return with the fleet. We will need it."
The Corellian joined his side soundlessly, and when the Sith Lord looked up at him, his face was very earnest, his entire demeanor conveying his utter concentration. "You can rely on me, Chi'in," he said, his voice even, then carefully gathered the Chiss in his arms. "Don't do anything foolish now. I'd be really disappointed otherwise."
Accepting the man's respectful words graciously, Chi'in gave a nod, then patted Mara's arm as she passed him. Both she and Jix were continuously looking back at th Noghri and the Empress, as if unsure of whether those two were still sane. Their concern was endearing, certainly, but on anotherlevel Chi'in found it strangely insulting. Once they had finally left, he turned back to face Yana Dar. Standing tall, her body dressed in ragged shreds of what had once been a stately dress, her blonde curls grimy and dishevelled, she was shaking hard. Chi'in waited patiently for the transition that would come soon now. Very soon. And indeed, as he watched, the Empress seemed to gather her courage again, and calmed somewhat. The fire raging inside her mind, though was still very present.
"You," she declared, her voice cutting through his body like a knife. "You will help me."
Nodding wordlessly, Chi'in pivoted on his heels to lead the way for her.
They were walking through the corridors of the worldship fast, both taking long, ground-eating strides, and all the while they kept a close watch over the Yuuzhan Vong dotting their way, all of which still seemed enthralled by some invisible force. The eerie silence permeating the ship was oppressive, and it mingled with the smell of decay that filled the warm air, creating a cocktail of depressing intensity. It was made all the more uncomfortable by the way the Yuuzhan Vong they encountered stood so very still, their mutilated, armored forms like frozen tableaus of disbelief and worship.
Jix was frowning constantly, expecting the spell to break any moment now. At his side, Mara held her blaster in a death-grip, and her emerald eyes were tracking each single immobilized foe they encountered. The Corellian felt as if they had somehow been beamed into a child's story, a sorcerer's fairy tale. He gave a short, disbelieving laugh.
"Chi'in must be crazy," he whispered, shaking his head. "I just know he's going to get into trouble."
"Think so?" Mara challenged. "Jix, Chi'in is perhaps the only one in this madhouse who will always do the reasonable thing."
"May be, may be," he replied absent-mindedly, still frowning. "But, frankly, I'd rather keep an eye on Yana, were I him. Did you see the look in her eyes? She's crazy."
Mara did not answer, and Jix looked over at her curiously, to find her face very pale as she stared into the distance. "I've seen that look before," she confessed. A cold shiver ran down Jix' back unbidden, as he recalled Franzis Sarreti's prediction back on Byss, that Yana was turning into something evil.
Shaking off those brooding thoughts, the Corellian quickened his pace some more. "No matter," he told her. "I think we should feel extremely lucky if we can get Mister Emperor here back to the Eisenhart safely." His frown was redirected at the slack body cradled in his arms. The Chiss was unconscious, and not as light as one might think, considering he was little more than skin and bones
"Speaking of, how're we gonna do that? I've never flown one of these coral skippers, and I don't trust your piloting skills that much to let you try," Mara added.
"Damn!" the Corellian exclaimed angrily. "I hadn't thought about that!"
She laughed. "C'm on, Jix, you know you're not the thinking type. That's me, remember?"
"Sure, so what do you propose?" he asked lightly, but she wasn't listening. She had stopped abruptly, apparently straining to listen to something only she could hear. It was a rare reminder of her own Force-sensitivity, and right then and there it made Jix' skin crawl. "What's the matter?"
"It's pretty hard to ignore what he's transmitting," Mara answered through gritted teeth, "even though he's restricting it to the Yuuzhan Vong only." She gave a sudden start, her emerald eyes opening wide in surprise. With a shake of her head she seemed to collect herself again, then grinned hard. "Transportation problem solved, darling," she announced. "His lordship has sent someone over to fetch us. Let's go!"
Both breaking into a run, Jix felt slightly apprehensive, wondering what Mara had meant. They pounded down another corridor, this one widening into a larger one, and to Jix' great relief they had already reached the hangar. Outside a familiar ship was hovering, apparently in preparation of landing aboard the worldship. It was the Morning Glory, Luke Skywalker's small yacht.
"It's Andarack!" Mara explained, then turned toward Jix, fussing over the Chiss he still held in his arms. "Set him down," she ordered, and Jix did as told. Carefully placing the Emperor's body on the deck, he still kept an eye on the landing yacht.
The hatch of the ship popped open, and a short figure darted out, waving at them. "Hurry!" Andarack called out, then stopped next to them, looking around in bewilderment. "Where is Chi'in clan Rim'kai?"
"Finishing some business," Jix grated out. "He wants us to get His Royalness over to the Eisenhart."
The young Noghri warrior nodded quickly. "I have already alerted them. They will be meeting us halfway."
"Good. We should be on our way already." The Corellian nodded toward the Chiss. "He's not doing too well, I think."
Dropping down on his haunches next to the Emperor, Andarack ran clawed hands deftly over the other's body. "My great-uncle has put him into a healing trance," he explained. "He will recover in time." He looked up to meet Jix' eyes. "But we should hurry nevertheless."
"My word exactly," Jix announced, then picked up Ja'han'mandana once again. "Let's go, guys."
Empress Yana Dar strode along the corridors wrapped in silence. She paid no heed to her nameless guide, but instead soaked up every tiny snippet of the sea of images that filled her with a bloody tale of glorious conquest and dark religion. The Yuuzhan Vong had long forgotten their masters, who had turned into gods in their memories, she realized, and in their place the caste leaders had come, stealing the lives of their people away for the sake of a hollow belief that had been perverted over the centuries. The devotion that permeated the entire culture of the Yuuzhan Vong became no more than pretense, the higher one stood in authority. Power and greed dominated the upper levels of the Yuuzhan vong hierarchy, and in that they had copied their masters' ideals perfectly.
She remembered her own assessment of the lower ranks, at the beginning of her captivity. The Shamed Ones, enslaved and exploited through a dubious system of rules and regulations that had turned the Yuuzhan Vong into artificial creatures, that worshipped artifice in the name of purity.
But now they were learning the devastating truth of their origins, learning of the deception that had deprived them of life and liberty for centuries, that had played on their fervent belief for the sake of power and sick pleasure. Yana felt that she understood exactly how they would feel once the yammosk released them again. She had felt much the same, when she had learned that her father had been using her for his own ends all along, when she had thought she had managed to carve out a life of her own. Back then Abla's love had rescued her from succumbing to dark rage, and later Franzis Sarreti had filled her with a new purpose.
She realized that someone, someone very strong and very brave, was responsible for this revelation, was controlling the yammosk to grind the Yuuzhan Vong's dreams and hopes for their fiture into tiny bits of betrayal and uncertainty. There was only one person that she knew was capable of such a cruel, yet so compassionate act, who could bear the burden of devastating an entire race for the sake of rebirth. But that one man was dead. Yana felt tears in her eyes when she replayed those thoughts in her head, and found that she did not hate her brother's killer any longer. Along with that understanding her defenses crumbled, falling away one by one, layer after layer, to expose her very core to her own scrutiny. She was no coward, she was no tyrant, she was no murderer, and she was no savior. What she found within herself was a strength that she had thought she had lost, and a determination that had brought her this far. Nothing would prevent her now from taking the next step.
She gave her guide a grateful smile, when he stopped at the threshold to the Supreme Overlord's lair to let her go ahead. And as she went past him she realized something else. Startled, she looked back sharply to frown at the short alien, whose nightmarish face seemed almost regal. Way back, on Byss, she had thought to have understood her father's motivation of employing the Dark Lord in his service. She had believed that the very presence of the intimidating warlord would serve as focus for resentment and fear, an endless well of darkness on which to feed, a symbol of power that only emphasized the supreme ruler's own might, since it was he who controlled this fearsome warrior, he alone. But thinking back on how she had come to that conclusion, and comparing it to her current situation, Yana found that she had been sorely mistaken.
The Dark Lords of the Sith were guardians and guides, a role that had been perverted into something else entirely, when her father had resurrected that title and the responsibilities it had originally entailed. But now, gazing into the alien's dark, lantern eyes, Yana Dar knew that she was looking at the future, reborn of the past. He had rescued her, had understood her need, had protected her and guided her here, yet now he was standing back, leaving her the honor of the kill. It was an unwise ruler who dismissed his closest aide's counsel, and it was a very unwise counselor, who acted without his ruler's consent, no matter how much work he might have put into preparing a certain act. And the only way for the ruler to repay his counselor for his efforts was trust and respect.
Supreme Overlord Shimmra had failed to inspire either trust or respect in his lieutenants. Deferring to him, they still jockeyed among themselves for greater wealth, status and power, all in the name of false gods, and he allowed it. In that he had betrayed the mass of Yuuzhan Vong, the Shamed Ones, the simple warriors, shapers and priests, who took everything their leaders said and did for truth, who endured a life in slavery to please the gods that had been sacrificed by their supposed guardians for the sake of their own betterment. It was not revenge, that filled the Empress as she turned back toward the chamber to face the creature that was still perched on its dais, it was righteous anger. With a gesture of her hand, she pierced the illusion of shadows and power that shrouded Shimmra's true form.
"I warned you," she hissed, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. "Your creator paid the price for tyranny, as you will pay," she continued. "Did you really believe you could escape where even your master perished? The arrogance of that assumption! Your days are numbered, " the Empress concluded, her face a mask of ancient wrath.
And then the yammosk's song ended.
For a heart-beat the Force was silent, as if holding its breath. Then the silence was rapidly filling with cries of outrage, of denial, of fury and blind sorrow. Yana stood like a rock, letting the emotions wash against the shores of her own mind, that was the eye of the storm, the calm center of chaos. Dispassionately, she felt her heart grow cold in the face of so much suffering. But that pain was necessary, to shed the bonds of darkness that had held the Yuuzhan Vong captive for centuries. Standing tall, Empress Yana Dar watched the Supreme Overlord Shimmra being torn to shreds by the hands of his subordinates.
It was over.
"They are docking, sir," Teer Shikay announced coolly, and Gilead Palleon gave the commander a weary nod. He was still busy looking over the reports sent by the scouts prowling space around Kynda'bey. There were twenty capital Yuuzhan Vong cruisers orbiting that world, and the Grand Admiral had thrown one look at the numbers and said: "The remaining thirty ships will undoubtedly have returned to Csilla." Which mean that they would have two separate fleets to deal with again, should Lord Skywalker fail in his mission at Laa'kuan. Not good. Captain Palleon looked up when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.
Thrawn had risen from the command chair he usually occupied whenever there was an upcoming battle, but now he was walking straight past Palleon and Shikay, to leave the bridge. Cocking bushy eyebrows, Gilead Palleon shrugged. They had received word an hour ago, that the Morning Glory had taken course for the Eisenhart's position in the outer system of Kynda'bey. What had surprised him, though, was the –
"Captain, are you coming?"
His train of thought derailed prematurely, Palleon glanced up, bewildered, to see Thrawn standing at the staircase, waiting.
"Apologies, sir," the captain muttered. "I was not quite listening."
"Now that you are listening, perhaps you would be so good and join me, Captain," the Grand Admiral replied drily. "We will meet them in the medical ward," he added for Palleon's benefit, once the elderly officer had joined him. "You say they report Yana Dar on board the worldship?"
"Yes, sir."
"With Master Chi'in."
"Yes. It appears so."
Thrawn did not question further. He seemed lost in thought as they entered a turbolift that would take them to the infirmary and medical level of the star destroyer. He was still keeping very quiet as they followed a medic into a closed off area that was bustling with doctors, medical droids and Chiss soldiers. Palleon recognized Major Kalo'wyn, the commander of First Royal Flight, hovering anxiously next to a door that undoubtedly led into one of the wards.
The Grand Admiral stopped short upon seeing the major, then stepped in front of the other Chiss, hands crossed behind his back. He simply stood there, his disconcertingly steady gaze holding Kalo'wyn's all the while.
Finally the major asked: "Sir, have I offended you?"
"I recall you were assigned to covering the ground assault team on Kynda'bey," Thrawn answered calmly. "Yet now I find you here, aboard the Eisenhart, and no news of Master Skywalker yet."
"Sir, when we heard that His Revered Highness was aboard the Morning Glory we had to abandon that assignment. We are First Royal Flight, after all, and they needed an escort."
"That may be an excuse, Major, but no reason to abandon the assignment," Thrawn told him icily. His frosty tone made even Palleon flinch.
"Enough, Admiral," a weary voice called from within the ward. "Come," it added, sounding tired.
With a last, withering glare directed at Kalo'wyn, the Grand Admiral strolled into the chamber, followed by a hesitant captain. A group of medics was clustered around the single bed, and Palleon noticed Wrenga Jixton lounging against the wall just inside the room, with Mara Jade occupying one of the chairs. He gave both a nod of acknowledgement, but he was really anxious to see the emperor. As if reading his thoughts, the medics stepped aside, allowing the newcomers to throw a first look at the patient.
Emperor Ja'han'mandana looked exactly the way he had sounded. He was sitting upright in the bed, his back propped up by a stack of cushions, and he was gazing straight at the door with empty eyes. Literally empty. Bandages covered his arms and torso, more injuries, Palleon guessed. But his eyes kept returning to those empty sockets. He shuddered ever so slightly.
"Is Sergeant Jixton still here?" Ja'han'mandana asked calmly.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Thrawn supplied.
"Ah. And Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo." The Emperor said something in his native tongue, and Thrawn paled visibly. Oblivious to the Grand Amdiral's reaction, the Emperor continued: "Sergeant, would you and your charming companion please wait outside? I would appreciate some privacy."
"Sure thing," the Corellian mumbled, and Palleon patiently waited for a sign from Thrawn. The Grand Admiral turned his head ever so slightly, then nodded at his second, who left, feeling strangely relieved. A moment later the medics had joined the small group on the corridor, and the door closed behind them.
TBC
Author's note:
Thank you for dilligently reviewing this story, Su a.k.a Anonymous!!! I hope you enjoy the rest as well!