Chapter 39 – The Pains of Farewell
"And now, Syndic, you will tell me something about Empress Yana Dar," Ja'han'mandana began, and Mith'raw'noruodo beat down hard on the small flame of defiance that began to build in his heart.
But his answer still bore testimony to his resentment when he said: "I have not yet been honored with meeting her in person."
The Emperor gave an encouraging nod, and how that calm helfulness rankled! He knew that Mith'raw'noruodo was defying him, and he still kept infuriatingly calm. "Yet you know much about her. I would be very disappointed if you did not."
"Your Majesty, I am but a humble warrior. You may be asking too much."
Ja'han'mandana gave a low snort. "You were never humble, Syndic. Ambitious, head-strong, cunning, yes. But I find that your so-called 'exile' has failed to teach you humility. The Emperor, I always thought, was far too proud for his own good. It is not surprising that you have learned nothing from your years of service to him."
"Are you calling me a traitor?" Mith'raw'noruodo asked thickly, but the silent expression that appeared on the Emperor's features made his blood dance wildly in his veins with sudden fear.
After a long silence Ja'han'mandana spoke again. "You must not believe that I share Bal'maw'narda's point of view concerning your deeds, Syndic." He paused briefly. "I must condemn them, though, and I regret that you chose to betray us instead of learning from your mistakes."
"So you do think – "
"Do not assume too much, Syndic," the Emperor warned him, his voice cutting. "Syndic Bal'maw'narda would as soon forget you even existed, though he would happily use your exploits for our ends." Mith'raw'noruodo felt his cheeks heaten at the accurate account of his own feeling on that matter. "But it is my responsibility to think beyond such prejudices, to find a solution that will benefit our own people. The skills you earned in the Empire's service are such a benefit. So, what of Yana Dar? She is the late Emperor's daughter?"
"Yes."
"Has she inherited his – talents?"
"A few. But she has had the best mentors to form her skills, I hear."
"Excellent." Ja'han'mandana fell silent again, and Mith'raw'noruodo waited patiently for him to continue. "Why did she remain behind do you think?"
"Revenge, probably," the Grand Admiral replied sourly. He did not want to talk about Yana Dar now, he wanted to bring their discussion about his supposed betrayal to an end.
The Emperor shook his head slowly. "No, I do not think so. There was someone with her, the one who freed us. Chi'in clan Rim'kai is his name, I believe."
"He is a Sith, and he has served the base at Nirauan on numerous occasions faithfully."
"Ah," Ja'han'mandana said at length. "A Sith. No, Syndic, I fear your grasp on politics is not as practised as your grasp on tactics and warfare."
It was a blow to his pride to be told such a thing by someone ten years his junior, and so he asked very coldly: "Really? What makes you think so?"
"Pride, my friend. Pride again. You feel dejected? How do you think she is feeling? I have talked to her. She has been implanted with neural controllers. Whatever held those Yuuzhan Vong back from hindering us from leaving, it must have affected her too."
For someone who had supposedly been in a healing trance, Ja'han'mandana had a surprisingly accurate recollection of their flight. Or, more likely, he just was a quick thinker. Mith'raw'noruodo frowned. "What is it you are getting at, Your Majesty?"
"An attempt at humility? I applaud your efforts, Syndic, but I would prefer you to remain the way you are. No, I do not think she will want revenge. If she is only half as shrewd as her father, she will make use of her knowledge of the enemy. Sergeant Jixton told me what your allies were planning to do on Laa'kuan and Kynda'bey. But I have a feeling that your allies' intentions are somewhat different from what you had planned."
"What is it I had planned?"
Ja'han'mandana leaned forward, his face taking on an intent expression, that was again marred by his missing eyes. "To destroy these creatures," he whispered. "You may be cunning, Mith'raw'noruodo, but you are always true to your ideals. You would not have given them a chance to perhaps strike back at you. You would have annihilated them." He leaned back again with a sigh. "But Yana Dar is a politician, I believe, and she will take another path on her way to glory. A Sith, you say? I fear I know exactly what she is planning."
Anakin Skywalker felt burned out, totally exhausted, both physically and mentally. Controlling the yammosk had required all of his innate power to channel the maze at Kynda'bey, and that, on top of his immense efforts back at Laa'kuan, had drained him badly. Now he was seated on one of the smaller boulders that dotted the shore of the underground lake, in which the yammosk was slumbering peacefully, probably feeling as tired as Anakin himself. All around warriors sat squatting on their haunches in a comfortable silence, but now and then one would steal a glance at the tall warlord, as if wondering how they might please him best. And there were not only Yuuzhan Vong among his new-found admirers, even Ishare Luvo seemed to be all beaming helpfulness, and the Lappa was keeping close to Luke, proudly displaying the fact that the Lappa had fought under the command of the Cor'dan's son.
Cor'dan.
Anakin gave a soft groan, and immediately a wave of concern rolled toward him. He thwarted it with practised ease. He had no use of such distractions now. So, he had finally come to the end of his journey, that he had begun on Nirauan. He had surrendered to destiny, and taken a leap of faith into an abyss of responsibility and future hardship. Roj Kell had warned him of that, but a few hours ago Anakin had seen for himself what everything meant, seen through the eyes of the Cor'dan. It was a reward no one would ever want to miss, and even thinking of that unique feeling of elation and unity made his heart sing. And he wanted to share that happiness. Rising abruptly from his seat, Anakin ignored the rattle of armor as the assembly of warriors followed his lead. He turned his head to look thoughtfully down at Luke, who stood calm and composed at his father's side, a true Jedi. The last one left.
"It is time," Anakin announced, and gave Nuron a nod, as one professional to the other.
She smiled, then hugged Luke tightly to herself. It was something Anakin had noticed many times before, that it was always her who showed her affection in front of others, who would embrace her lover and embarass him just as frequently. On cue, Luke blushed a fiery red. Those two were meant for one another. Shaking off those thoughts, Anakin started walking toward the rock tunnel that would lead back up to the surface. The battle had died down hours ago, and transport would be waiting for them. Ishare Luvo and his men would return to their own ship, submerged in Kynda'bey's ocean at the foot of the cliffs, and return to their fleet. The remaining Yuuzhan Vong would stay here, waiting for further instructions concerning the yammosk.
Time to leave.
It was almost twelve hours later that he found himself aboard a Yuuzhan Vong worldship for the very first time. The ship's name was Shara Orl, and, if he had understood correctly, it was five hundred years old, one of the very first of these vessels ever grown. He had slept for six hours in a borrowed cabin aboard the Eisenhart and paid a long call to Naboo. Now he had joined the emissary of the Chiss Empire – Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo – and Ishare Luvo on this trip to the Yuuzhan Vong fleet's flagship.
They had been received by a tall Yuuzhan Vong priest named Elu Cha, who had been accompanied by a strangely nervous female priest. Anakin learned only later that it had been Alyn Cha, his daughter. The small group made its way through the bowels of the ancient ship slowly, leaving the Yuuzhan Vong crew time to stare and marvel at the enemies that had turned into allies in the matter of hours. It certainly approached a miracle, how fast things had changed. And Anakin knew very well that he was not the only one responsible for this.
They entered a short, broad corridor, filled with a distinct scent that Anakin placed immediately as imitation of Yavin 4's jungle aroma. He smiled at that. So the Massassi had not been entirely forgotten. Even the chirping of several large beetles, that were buzzing underneath the high ceiling, was reminiscent of the chatter of woolamanders and the song of that lush world's many colorful avians. It all spoke of a home long left behind, but always remembered. Perhaps, one day, the Yuuzhan Vong could even return to their ancestors' homeworld. The corridor ended at the threshold to a giant chamber, illuminated with soft, orange light that spilled from the button-ends of hundreds of polyps that covered the walls almost entirely in an intricate pattern of orange against the dark brown bulkhead.
Anakin was the first to follow Elu Cha and his daughter across that threshold, with Mith'raw'noruodo and Ishare Luvo, peacefully united in a common goal for once, right behind. The entire chamber was humming with anticipation, and was alive with fervent hopes and desperate dreams. He had broken the Yuuzhan Vong, taken the magic away from their lives, to allow someone else to put both life and faith back into their hearts. By the look of it, Empress Yana Dar had managed the first peaceful conquest in history. She was seated in a high-backed chair, dressed in a flowing black robe that clung to her like a second skin when she moved, as she did now, rising from her throne to welcome the three warlords. Her blonde curls stood out from her head untamed, giving her otherwise regal appearance a wild touch that contrasted harshly with the look in her eyes.
Blue saphires filled with a quiet, reassuring fire were gazing calmly at them, set into a delicate face as pale as porcellaine. The Empress appeared cool, otherworldly, a goddess of ancient times, and Anakin found himself approving of her approach to this new beginning. He had always believed in her as a ruler, in her wisdom, her insight. Now he was being proven right with his trust in her, despite his own harsh and painful experiences with another Sith ruler, that he had made while serving her father. But Yana Dar was more than her father's daughter. When she took a gliding step forward, her entire demeanor was that of a true leader.
Then Elu Cha's voice rang out from the depths of silence. "Behold the Empress."
"Welcome," Yana said graciously, then addressed Mith'raw'noruodo directly. "Syndic, I believe I will need you to set up a meeting with your Emperor, His Revered Highness Ja'han'mandana. There is a proposal I would like to present to him."
Anakin watched the Chiss take a step forward, features unruffled, glowing eyes calm. "With all respect, Honored Empress, Emperor Ja'han'mandana has assigned me to lead the negotiations concerning withdrawal of the Yuuzhan Vong forces from Csilla, and other occupied worlds inside Chiss controlled territory. Until he is recovered," he added thoughtfully, but his tone made it clear that Yana would have to wait for a long time before that would happen.
The Empress nodded, then raised a hand to tap her lower lip playfully. "That is funny," she replied, amused, and a mean smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I do believe that I have the advantage in these negotiations, Syndic."
"Excuse me, Your Highness?" Mith'raw'noruodo felt his blood chill at the implications of her not so subtle threat.
"You have understood correctly, Syndic Mith'raw'noruodo," Yana told him petulantly. "You will have to meet me more than halfway, if you want to get anything out of this deal."
Mouth hanging open in disbelief, Mith'raw'noruodo stood speechless. "Tell me what you want," he grated out at last, his usually so calm voice laced with cold fury.
She spread her arms expansively. "Oh, you see, we will have to expand to give all these people a new home, and the only available territory that might yield some acceptable worlds are the Unknown Regions." Her smile became positively inviting.
The Grand Admiral, acutely aware of both Ishare Luvo and Skywalker watching intently for his reaction, kept his expression very blank. Straightening sharply, he gave a curt nod. So, she was prepared to play games with him, was she. Well, he had an ace up his sleeve that
she could hardly ignore. "Esteemed Empress, I may have misjudged your situation."
"Yours, you mean," she corrected him blandly.
"No, not at all. You see," he continued, shrugging nonchalantly, "just an hour ago the New Republic Star Destroyer Eisenhart received a priority report from Coruscant. Apparently the New Republic Senate under President Leia Organa has voted in favor of an official allegiance with the Chiss Empire. The vote was close to unanimous, I might add. So," he explained at length, "I suppose I will deliver your proposal to His Esteemed Majesty Ja'han'mandana and I will bring back his answer in due time. Until then, Your Highness, I fear these negotiations have to be suspended."
Yana Dar had gone very pale, and her blue eyes were blazing dangerously, telling him that she had indeed not expected this little twist to blunt her unfair move. She took a deep breath, her hands clenched at her sides. "Very good, Syndic. You realize, that you are endangering your own people with this decision, don't you."
"Of course. Just as you realize your own position. If you dare take advantage of this situation, you will have to confront both the Chiss and the New Republic. You would not want that."
"Don't think me a coward, Syndic," she hissed. "I have more resources to call upon that this fleet."
"Resources, yes, but I am not at all sure whether Counselor Sarreti would approve of your course of action, if you entered a costly war now of all times. Besides, such a move might destroy everything you have achieved so far. Personally, I would not recommend it," he added drily.
"Watch your tongue," she snapped. "I will not have this game continue any longer. Speak clearly, if you will!"
"Three choices, Your Majesty. Either you wait for Ja'han'mandana's answer – peacefully – or else you continue your new subjects' plans of conquest. What will happen then I do not need to repeat again. The third option, of course, would be to give up this foolish demand straight away."
"Which is impossible," Yana replied, resigned. "Very well. I will find a temporary solution, certainly. But it will not become permanent, do you hear me! So don't you dare leave me hanging here!"
He sketched a small bow to hide his smile. "As you wish, Your Majesty." Turning aound, he strode past a stunned-looking Ishare Luvo and a quietly grinning Dark Lord. Just before he was out of earshot he heard Skywalker say: "Well done, Your Highness. I can certainly forsee that these negotiations will be anything but boring."
Leia kicked off her shoes leisurely and cuddled up to Han, who was seated on the couch of their apartment's living-room. He had actually moved in with her, because her quarters were much larger than his anyway, and for the past few days their life together had gone remarkably well. Admittedly she had not had much time to enjoy that time they had, with her duties as pro-term President of State weighing heavily on her shoulders.
The hand that had been stroking her back tenderly was halted all of a sudden.
"Urgh. Your shoulders're hard as a plank, Highnessness. Need a massage?" Han added with a sly wink. Leia giggled, then shook her head.
"I'm afraid I don't have the leisure to relax just yet. We have scheduled a meeting with Father and Luke for twenty hours."
"That makes half an hour then."
"What? But it's only eighteen hours!" the Princess protested indignantly.
"Yeah, sure, but knowing how much time you take getting dressed up – Not that I don't like it when you sparkle like that," he added hurriedly seeing the dangerous gleam in her eyes.
"Han Solo, you obviously will have to learn some manners before you can convince Father to let you have my hand in marriage."
He gave a cocky shrug. "You think I need his permission? Personally, I believe he'll feel very lucky once you're out of his hair. Figuratively speaking."
"Oh, you! Very funny, smart-mouth!" She gave him a playful slap on his shoulder, then sat up, gazing at him thoughtfully. "Mother will definitely have to teach me how to break in a new husband," she declared.
"Oh, you'll see I'm quite easy to handle. I even do the cooking," he reasoned, gesturing elegantly at the dishes spread on the dinner table. It had been delicious. Leia had to admit. He really had a knack for spicy Corellian dishes.
"I don't like it that she's all alone on Naboo now," the princess complained and leaned her head against Han's shoulder.
"With Karrde," he added.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her eyes glittering.
He gave her a crooked smile. "Forget I said anything, hon'. That was just nonsense."
"I dearly hope so, nerf-herder." Leaning forward, she took a glass of sweet purple wine from the couch table and sipped at it leisurely. "General Page said what he's heard so far from Almashin is good news. But I could feel that he was holding something back," she murmured, suddenly feeling moody. "I wonder what that was?"
"I'm sure Anakin is going to tell you, when you ask him."
She sighed. "I guess so. I wish I didn't have to wait til twenty hours."
Watching his father pace the length of his cabin impatiently, Luke felt like watching a caged railltir tiger. Dressed in a simple black uniform the Dark Lord was obviously anxious about something. The two of them had retreated aboard the Eisenhart to recuperate and discuss what exactly had happened, and what these events would entail for the future of the galaxy. But so far Father had been very silent, preoccupied with whatever had happened to him on Laa'kuan, Luke thought.
The young Jedi and his Zabrak companion had accompanied the Dark Lord to the Eisenhart, before the older Skywalker had been called to attend a meeting with Empress Yana Dar aboard the giant Yuuzhan Vong worldship orbiting Kynda'bey along with numerous smaller vessels. Luke had been pretty excited about that, sensing that a fundamental change was about to take place. All he knew now, after Father's return, though, was that a cease-fire had been agreed on, that Yana Dar was in charge of the Yuuzhan Vong, and that the negotiations were continuing.
There was so much he had missed, trapped out here in the Unknown Regions for almost three months since his initial departure from Coruscant. Father had told him most of just what that had been. First Leia had been kidnapped by Roganda Ismaren and Yana Dar – Roganda Ismaren, who was a child of the Jedi, had been the Emperor's concubine and born him a son! – and he had even thought his sister dead for a while. The memory alone made him shiver. And then the Empire and the New Republic had been drawn to the very verge of another war, thanks to Grand Admiral Tious Markhan's ambitions and Franzis Sarreti's clever manipulations to ensnare Yana Dar as her father's heir.
Luke still couldn't believe that Palpatine had a daughter, not to mention a son, Irek Ismaren, a weird experiment using genetic material both from Palpatine himself and his old mentor, Father had explained. The young Jedi remembered Roj Kell's face, when he had told him that he had killed his own son, because his existence had offended him. His own son, Irek Ismaren, whom he had thought a perversion of himself. Luke shuddered. So cold. It had been Kell, who had called the Yuuzhan Vong back into their galaxy, for what reasons Luke was not entirely sure he could understand.
"So, this Seeker," he said at last, "Jix thinks it could be the key to the future."
"I am not at all sure I want the future to depend on a computer-program," Father countered. "It will be a tool, if even that, no more. I do not think we should let out future be dictated by the past." For some reason his vocie sounded pained.
Luke sat forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Father, what is bothering you? That you have been goaded all the way, that you weren't allowed to make your own choices?"
The older man stopped his pacing, turning cool blue eyes on his son. "No, I am used to that. Being chosen is all about following destiny." His lips twitched in a strange, sad smile. "But I have a feeling that I am missing out on something. Everyone seems to have a future to look forward to, a past to claim. I feel I do have a future, with my children, with your Mother above everyone else, but I find that there is something amiss about the past." Luke was shocked to see tears in his father's eyes. "You and your sister reclaimed your past when you found your parents again, and accepted them, despite their mistakes, their failures," Anakin whispered. "Yana Dar has found that she can erase her father's legacy and even erase centuries of evil committed against the Yuuzhan Vong through a creature of the Sith. Irek – " he paused briefly, and heaved a wistful sigh. "I can imagine what he felt in his last moments, how much it hurt him to be rejected by his father, one as well as the other, to be dismissed like any old tool."
"Perhaps the Seeker could tell you more about your past, then;" Luke suggested quietly, realizing what the other was getting at, but Father shook his head.
"I am not even sure it would know an answer. He would have told me on Laa'kuan, I am certain of that, if he had truly known the truth. I can feel it."
Luke did not have to ask what he Father meant. "Are you going to bury him?" he asked indstead.
"Yana insists," Father growled.
"And what's so bad about it? He deserves a burial, don't you think? Or are you still mad at him?"
The Dark Lord shrugged. "Old habits die hard, son, and I have never really managed to come to trust the old man. And I refuse to accept that he deserves anything for what he has done, no matter what he has achieved. I – " Closing his eyes, he grimaced painfully. "I know now, what he did before he met me on Niaraun, how he summoned that vast power to Laa'kuan. You do not want to know," he added curtly, before Luke could open his mouth. "He killed so many for reasons I cannot sanction or even understand. And I have vowed to myself that I will never become a simile of what he was. I am Cor'dan, but I am mortal." Father quirked a crooked smile. "The knowledge and insight he had I will never come to understand, and perhaps everyone should be grateful for that," he concluded nastily.
Luke blinked his eyes in surprise, then smiled. "Oh, we are," he answered. "We are very grateful for that." His smile became a full-blown grin. Then the door opened suddenly, startling him, and Jix stuck his head through the opening.
"Hey, did you know we were leaving?" the Corellian demanded.
"What?" Luke jumped up from his seat: "I thought we'd remain here until the negotiations were settled!"
The Corellian cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Well, Thrawn has just given order to return to Almashin."
Mouth hanging open, the young Jedi turned toward his father, who seemed strangely thoughtful. "So she has decided to sit this one out," Anakin explained at last. "What about Chi'in? Is he still aboard Shara Orl?"
"Seems so."
Anakin's eyes turned very cold. "I see. Well. I can hardly tell him what to do now, can I?"
"Nope," Jix agreed, voice dead-pan, "he always knows what he's doing, or so Mara tells me."
"Mostly he does, yes," the Dark Lord nodded. "And I wonder if he was behind our leaving now."
He nearly stumbled in his haste to get to the garrison's comm center and arrived out of breath. Ignoring the astounded glances his dishevelled appearance drew, Franzis Sarreti nodded at the comm operator.
"Some privacy, please."
"Of course, sir," the man replied with a small smile.
A moment later he was alone, and took a deep breath before seating himself. His hands, lying on top of the comm switch board, were trembling uncontrollably. She had done it. She really had. Franzis tried a tentative smile, before he cut the switch on receive, and the static holo field dissolved into an image of the Empress' face. Double-checking the code, he realized she was calling from aboard the Imperial shuttle his people had lent to Jixton and Jade for their mission. Immediately his gaze returned to the holo before him. Her forehead was still decorated with three neat scars, that ended halfway to the bridge of nose, and her blue eyes were tired. She did not return his smile.
"I need some advice from my counselor," she said, when he remained silent, and he was shocked at her voice, that was devoid of any emotion.
Franzis suppressed an urge to say something stupid. "How may I serve you, Your Majesty?" he asked softly instead, feeling somehow uneasy.
She told him what she had told the Grand Admiral, and explained that she had thought a threat the best solution to finishing this business as quickly as possible. He winced at her innocent and misled assumption. "So, what do you say?" she finished at last.
"Honestly? It was a mistake, Your Highness. You should not have demanded so much so soon. Diplomacy requires patience, yet patience is not synonymous with having to wait a long time for things to happen. A more generous approach would have eased your way into the Chiss' good graces. They might even have granted your wish out of gratitude then."
Yana smiled. "You do not know their Emperor, Counselor. But you are right. I should not have tried to beat him at his own game." Her eyes took on a faraway look.
"When will you be coming home?" Franzis could feel his heart beat faster, and feared his feelings showed on his face as she focused her attention on him again. He had no idea how she managed to look so distant and yet so vulnerable at the same time, but he found he really liked that combination.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"
"So I can prepare your welcome," he explained, hoping she couldn't see that he was sweating under her steady gaze. It was ridiulous, how easily she managed to get under his skin. When in the short weeks of her captivity had she become more to him than the icon he needed to preserve? But somehow seeing her again, knowing that she would be returning, was making his heart ache in anticipation. He thought he knew why. He longed for her approval of his deeds in her name, for her recognition of his cleverness. But she only gazed at him in some bewilderment.
"A welcome? You mean a reception?" A sad smile appeared on her lips. "I do not know whether that would be appropriate ..."
"Not appropriate! Your Majesty, anything less would be inappropriate! You are the Empress!"
She gave a soft laugh, that spoke volumes of her current state. "Empress, yes? I do not feel very imperial right now," she added gloomily, her devastation tearing Franzis' heart to shreds.
In a very quiet voice he said: "Just come home."
Nodding mutely, she cut the transmission, leaving him anxious and hurting. Something was very wrong with her, and if he did not do something to ease her mind she might even get it into her head to abdicate. He was well aware of her doubts, that had plagued her ever since she had first come to Byss. She had even offered to step back in his favor, once. But why now? Why was she so obviously depressed after having won the greatest victory in the Empire's history? It did not make any sense. Franzis shook off his own worries grimly and rose. Well, he did know his duties, and Yana Dar would get a fitting welcome, that much was clear. He smiled suddenly. First he had to make sure the Empress had a home to return to. The Citadel had been almost completely destroyed in the Yuuzhan Vong attack on Byss. He would have restoration begun immediately. Feeling a bit less worried, with a new goal before his inner eye, Franzis Sarreti left the comm center, already laying out plans for the Empress'
homecoming.
The maze at Laa'kuan was lit by torches, that reflected the golden sheen of the glow-stones set into the rock walls all around. Haunted by shadows, the labyrinth became even more mysterious than it appeared even in daylight. All along the wall of the inner ring of the core the weathered murals seemed to come to life. Chi'in kept a close watch on them, secretly hoping that they would reveal their secrets at last, but he found that erosion had gnawed too deeply into the reliefs after all.
The center of the maze was filled by a silent assembly of Yuuzhan Vong, whose mutilated faces added to the eerie atmosphere that very night. A nightmare come alive, only now it had been turned into a dream of a new future, a new hope for them. And they had gathered here to pay tribute to the Sith Lord who had been keeper of their history, and guardian of their past. Presiding over the assembly, Yana Dar appeared no less sinister than her new subjects. The Empress wore a multi-layered robe of living tissue, a gift from a humbled Priestess Alyn Cha, and glittering crystals of the darkest purple hue were scattered in her mane of blonde curls.
Her saphire blue eyes were gazing steadily at the Noghri Sith Lord, waiting for him to begin the ceremony. Chi'in had agreed to leading the service at last, along with High Priest Elu Cha, since he was the only one present who knew something of Sithian burial ceremonies. Even if that knowledge was somewhat sketchy, and even though Chi'in thought that if they were to bury Roj Kell, it should be a burial modeled after the ancient Sith's people's own traditions. With a last suspicious glance at the surrounding shadows, Chi'in stepped forward to join Elu Cha at the bier erected in the midst of the assembly.
Roj Kell's eyes had gently been forced open, as was customary, since it was believed that the spirit needed to see to find its way through the shadow realm of death, into the spirit world. The lethal wounds marring his torso had not been cleaned, though, and he was still dressed the same as the moment he had died. A tribute to his sacrifice, to a warrior's honor. Washing the blood away would have meant the same as demeaning his deeds. A set of three knives had been laid out on a boulder nearby, and Chi'in took up the largest, its reassuring weight resting easily in his hand. Very carefully he tipped the blade horizontally, and held it above the pale green eyes staring lifelessly up at the stars, blocking their line of sight to prevent the spirit from losing its way among the stars. But the moment the blade crossed that empty gaze, Chi'in felt that he had been betrayed after all.
"Life and death have no power over the spirits," Belana heard her lover whisper in that enchanting voice of his, that was like a soft breeze on starlight, and his words were echoed deep down in the center of the maze.. "So let this blade be your guide on your way."
Joining him, she lay an arm around his waist, then tentatively reached out to run her hand over his cheek reassuringly. It could not be easy, leading one's own funeral rites. He did not seem to notice her, his eyes fixed solely on the Noghri who was standing over his body down there.
His voice rose a bit as he said: "The blade be the mirror to your spirit. Examine it closely, and see the truth of your being."
Belana rested her head against his shoulder, simply holding him and listening as he continued. "You were called into the world of the living to serve the living. You were called into the light to learn the way of life. You were a guest in the world of the living. You were named by the living. Now you have been recalled into the shadow realm."
Deep below, the Noghri slowly put the knife aside and folded his hands in front of his chest. The entire assembly followed his lead when he bowed respectfully.
"Your name will remain as you leave us in spirit, as we release you from the world of the living. We will remember your name and what you were named for, your deeds and what you achieved through them. The shadows will remember your spirit, as we remember your deeds."
When the Noghri picked up the second knife, this one sporting a long, slender blade, Belana tensed involuntarily. She closed her eyes, when the knife was driven into the body's chest.
But beside her, Roj Kell continued unpertubed. "The heart of darkness embraces the light as it embraces life and death. Embrace life, embrace death, be returned to light in darkness."
The sudden surge of shocked surprise emanating from the maze made Belana's eyes fly open again in horror, and she clung to Kell more tightly as she strained to see what had happened down in the labyrinth's heart. A strangled gasp escaped from between her parted lips as she stared at the members of the regal assembly, who had flattened themselves against the rock walls in a vain attempt to escape the unthinkable that had occurred. Only three figure still stood where they had before, at least two did, the Empress and the Yuuzhan Vong High Priest. The Noghri had taken a long step back, the slender blade visible in his clawed hand as he gazed at the biar, disbelieving. The biar, on which the late Roj Kell had sat up, as if nothing had happened.
Belana's head snapped around as she blinked huge brown eyes at her lover. He was grinning at her with a strangely boyish smile, but she merely shook her head at him. Initiated as Cor'dan at the tender age of eight, he had retained a somewhat childish behaviour to this very day, she sometimes found, even if that child's pranks were exceptionally cruel and cold-hearted most of the time. But then his face grew serious again and he explained:
"If the Cor'dan is killed before having initiated a successor, the spirit remains anchored to the body until it can be set free by this ritual. Meaning, until the heart of darkness is returned to the light, the body will not decay so it may be found and recognized."
"But why – " she gestured at the animated corpse down in the maze, words failing her. "When you died, I could feel – "
"What you felt then was something different. You see, the Cor'dan is a vessel chosen through the Force, he is the Force, and his life is suspended until a successor is chosen and initiated. Once the Cor'dan surrenders his gift to the one to follow he is returned to life. Upon my death my succesor had not been fully initiated, therefore the vessel is now formally returned to life to be set free." He shrugged. "I would give much to see Anakin's face once he realizes that he has not escaped this fate after all."
Belana's lips twisted into a disgusted grimace. "You," she declared, "must be the sneakiest, meanest man I know."
He gave her a small bow. "Thank you, my dear."
"So, is this what you wanted to accomplish?" she asked, nodding at the assembly. "A reunion of past and present?"
"A beginning, Belana, no more," he answered quietly, his pale eyes thoughtful. "That is all I could ever have accomplished. It is their choice what to make of it."
"Three thousand yeras, just for a beginning? Your last student was much more ambitious than that," she chided him.
He smiled. "There is no end to the circle of life, Belana. All you can achieve is another beginning. The universe would have to end to end life." Then he wrapped her in his arms, a luminous smile on his face. He bent down to kiss her forehead tenderly, and surprised her again by whispering: "Just hold me, all right? Until it is over. I want to be with you all through the end."
She complied tentatively, feeling uncertain and resentful. He was toying with her emotions so easily, and yet she knew he was not doing it on purpose, not now. He simply knew no other way. Tightening her embrace, she pressed her cheek against his collarbones and concentrated all her being on holding him, just as he had asked. And to her great shock and grief, she found that he was trembling, caught in a strange seizure that brought tears to his eyes as well as hers.
"I won't leave you," she breathed, filled with determination, but she could feel him slipping away, as death found his spirit at last.
Yana Dar stood rooted in place, caught in dead eyes' compelling gaze. She had no idea what had happened, why the body had suddenly sat up on the biar, or why it was looking at her so intently. Yet she refused to surrender to fear. High Priest Elu Cha also had remained in place, but his face was twitching ominously. Only Chi'in, who had led the ceremony, seemed completely unsurprised. Suddenly the Noghri shook his head, as if to rid himself of a trance, then replaced the knife he still held in his hand with the last one, a curved dagger. Chi'in moved back toward the biar, confronting the animated dead sitting there unblinking.
"Life is balance, and balance is death," the Sith Lord began again, and his voice echoed throughout the entire labyrinth. "Life and death are sheltered in earth and sky, light and dark. Earth shelters the Jen-People, sky shelters the spirits. Both become one in light and dark. Life is the realm of the Jen-People, death is the realm of the spirits. In light and dark they become one. Light and dark, life and death, earth and sky will become one in your heart, as you become one with the spirits once more."
He pointed the dagger straight at Roj Kell's heart.
"Begone from this world, and take our prayers and wishes on your way. Regate'ti."
Yana felt her heart stop, when the body fell back with a thud, lying very still on the biar. She drew a ragged breath, desperately needed, then turned a questioning frown at Chi'in. He had lowered the blade again, and was gazing at something far off, like an afterglow of something elusive that had spread across the stars. The moment faded softly away, leaving only silence.
Then, a while later, High Priest Elu Cha managed to shake off his paralysis and began the service he had prepared, no less elaborate than the Sithian ritual Chi'in had performed, but Yana could sense that something had changed. She joined Chi'in wordlessly, hoping that he might be able to tell her what exatly that was.
"He is gone," the Noghri whispered. "Do you feel it? A void, here," he added, laying a hand over his heart.
Yet Yana could feel nothing. She only felt empty, cold and numb to her surroundings. Yet she gave a mute nod, not really caring whether Chi'in picked up on her missing emotions or not. Just come home. Franzis Sarreti's words were haunting her, and a faint hope stirred in her heart that she might find peace there. For the rest of the night, as the ceremony dragged on, Yana stood motionless, a beautiful statue, an icon. And wasn't that what she had always been meant to be? Only hours later, when Elu Cha had spoken the last words of the ritual, did she realize just what she had to do, and that knowledge lifted her spirits again. She had fought it all the time, though the solution was so easy, so easy to achieve.
That night Empress Yana Dar vowed to herself that she would indeed leave everything to her trusted counselor to deal with, while she would be the one to back his endeavors, to approve, to inject quiet criticism where no one could hear. She would be the one atop the pedestal, an icon, a distraction, the way Franzis had always tried to guide her. Pride flooded her mind, pride in having Franzis at her side, having his insight and knowledge at her disposal. And in that pride she could feel something else too. Something she had always dismissed as friendship. But she remembered once more her fear for him when he had valiantly thrown himself in the way of her Yuuzhan Vong captors, the quiet suffering in his eyes when he had believed she had betrayed him, her pain at seeing him so disappointed. She wanted his approval, she realized, she wanted him to see her as the perfect icon he wished her to be. And she loved him. Loved him even more than she had ever loved Abla Othana, may his spirit rest in peace among the stars.
"You are crying," a soft voice told her, and Yana wiped a hand over her eyes, smiling sheepishly at Chi'in.
"It is just – such a moving ceremony," she lied.
"What?"
Yana laughed at the incredulous look on his face; he was probably declaring her insane for shedding a tear for Roj Kell, but little did he know that it was something else entirely that had brought those tears. Happiness. Just that.
The Palace of Theed was nothing more but ruins, and no one had taken claim or responsibility for restoring it so far. Only few Nubians had remained on their homeplanet, most of the native population had scatterd all across the galaxy, and those that had remained had closed themselves off from galactic affairs and politics. The world that had once been named in one sentence with noble Alderaan, with justice and compassion, had sunken back into the insignificance of a backwater world at the Outer Rim. It had been decades ago that she had stood on these very marble steps for the last time.
Padmé felt incredibly vulnerable and alone in what had once been her home, as if the eyes of the dead were watching her from the shadows of the ruins. She should feel safe here, but could not. Too much bad had happened for her to ever feel at ease again on Naboo. And yet, she remembered a night almost three months ago, when she had teased her husband about returning here for a second honey-moon. But he was not here. Shivering, she wrapped herself tighter into the thick cloak she wore draped over her shoulders. There was the soft crunch of boots over gravel. Startled, she whirled around to face the newcomer. It was Talon Karrde.
"We should return to the Retreat," he said, his voice cool and smooth. "It is getting late, and it is a bit too chilly for my taste."
Nodding slowly, Padmé started toward him. "I wonder when they will be coming here," she said softly as she reached the informtaion broker.
"I am sure they will be all right," he assured her just as quietly.
The former queen turned an anguished gaze on Karrde, feeling suddenly even more dejected. "I pray they are all right," she confessed. "I could not bear to lose them now."
"But the Seeker was very clear on their return, Your Ladyship."
"I know. But I am still anxious."
"You do not trust the Seeker, do you."
She gave a low snort. "Captain Karrde, had I not trusted the Seeker I would have done a lot of things differently. But I didn't, so I will have to bear my anxiety alone."
They walked toward where Karrde had landed his speeder and made their way to the Lake Retreat in silence. Padmé was caught up in bitter-sweet memories, unable to respond to her surroundings. Yet when she disembarked the wave-skimmer that had brought them to the small villa nestled against steep forested cliffs by the water-front, she felt a distant smile creep onto her lips. Karrde, always the gentleman, was holding his hand out to her for support. She took it graciously and stepped onto the flight of stairs leading up to the veranda.
"I can see that your men have made themselves right at home here," she commented, noticing the slightly disorderly appearance of the compound.
"They will have to adapt, Your Ladyship, but that won't be a problem."
Then Toss Halan came to meet them, a smile on his lips. "There was a message for you, Lady Padmé," he said with a nod. "Your daughter called. I have recorded the transmission for you."
"Thank you!" Her face lit up as she strode ahead, toward her own quarters, where a datadisc was sitting on top of the ornate, dust-covered desk that had been hers once. Inserting the disc into the compad that Halan had provided with the data, she smiled. An instant later the message appeared on the screen, and Padmé began reading anxiously.
Dearest Mother,
I am anxious to come visit as soon as I can. I miss you already, and Han does too, even though he would never admit to such a thing. But he is talking of nothing else than spending our honey-moon on Naboo. You can tell he cannot wait to get married. I wonder if Father was that eager, too.
Padmé smiled at that. Eager? A soft laugh rang out from her mouth as she pondered how to explain to her daughter that her father had been quite a romantic in his youth, still was, sometimes.
On the political front the storms seem to have died down here on Coruscant and Mon Mothma is recovering faster now. She will be back in office by the next month at the latest, and I will be grateful for a break, if Han will grant me one. I fear, though, that he will want to use my holidays for other time-consuming activities.
That comment brought a tiny smirk onto Padmé's lips.
Oh, before I forget. The most important news has come in from Almashin, of course. The Chiss will send another representative, to free Commander Al'than'erudo of his duties. My guess is that the representative will be someone familiar.
In other words, it would be Thrawn. But Padmé actually did not give a damn about who would be sent to Coruscant. Right now she wanted to know when her husband would be coming home.
The Empire will also be sending an ambassador for negotiations, and General Seelac prays that that representative will be Sarreti, so he can tell him exactly what he thinks of his so-called allegiances. Tomas Piett will be coming himself, which won't make the situation any better. By the way, he has invited us to his inauguration next month. His dear friends, he said.
And last, the news that will interest you the most. The Eisenhart and the Starhammer will be returning along with the New Republic fleet in seven standard days. I am in the midst of preparing a welcome for their commanders. Father won't be coming to Coruscant, though, which saddens me a bit, but he has promised to go straight from Almashin to Naboo. Luke and Nuron are giving him a lift aboard the Morning Glory, I hear.
Padmé almost stopped reading then, her heart beating too fast for her to bear. But she made herself go on to read the last few lines.
Please take care of Father, he will need it. Something has happened to him, and he won't tell me what it is. He hasn't even told Luke, and he is as concerned as I am. But do not worry. I just kow everything will turn out all right in the end. Doesn't it always?
Your loving daughter
Leia
In the matter of a heart-beat Padmé's good mood had dissolved. Sitting very still in the high-backed chair at the desk, she found her gaze focusing into the distance, where she found a conversation held some time ago, back on Bilbringi, where she had done something very stupid. The memory of that forbidden kiss still hurt and shamed her, and yet it were the words spoken that evening that haunted her. Roj Kell had told her then that he had chosen Anakin to become his successor, and he had warned her of what that would mean. He had charged her with responsibility for her husband's actions, and she recalled how frightened she had been by the prospect, fearing that her beloved would turn into the cold-hearted monster his predecessor had been. Something has happened to him. It could be nothing good.
That night Padmé did not sleep very well. She was tortured by nightmares and worries, and in the early morning hours she could bear the silent torture no longer, and fled her bedroom to find some solace in watching the sun rise above the mountains guarding the lake. A wistful sigh escaped from between her lips as she put her hands on the balcony's delicately carved stone railing, breathing the sweet scent of the flowers that grew wild down in the garden. So peaceful. For a moment her heart felt at ease. Leia was right. They would manage. There was nothing to fear, nothing at all. And yet she did not return to bed, but remained on the balcony for long hours, remembering the past.
"All right."
Kicking the door closed behind him – and it was such an old-fashioned door – Talon Karrde crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at the array of electronics and screens that rose at the back of the hastily cleared chamber. The silent beep of various computers filled the otherwise silent room, an innocent sound that seemed to mock the vile thing lurking there, in front of him. Bracing himself, Talon Karrde strode over to the Seeker and took a seat on the simple chair that stood in front of the keypad. Activated by a set of commands, the center screen came to live.
Explain Project Zero-B, he typed and patiently read the clinical account presented on the screen. Then he wrote: Explain mission to Almashin.
Query?
The mission to Almashin, concerning Project Zero-B, Empress Yana Dar and Anakin Skywalker, Karrde continued, calmly checking over the references injected into the order. They were exactly the same the hologram had used.
Unknown query.
Taking a calming breath, the information broker tried to come up with something else. But it had been very hard for him to retain his cool ever since Lando Calrissian had called this morning from Almashin, demanding why he had been sent to that damn Chiss backwater world only to hear that his message was as useless as yesterday's news, that the Dark Lord had already left for Naboo, and that no one knew anything about any Project Zero-B, let alone prayers to be answered. The message, the baron had declared, had undoubtedly been a hoax.
Remembering something from the original report on the assessment of the war situation, Talon Karrde typed: Tell me about Liyuma.
Liyuma = Prankster [Ref. Jen Religion], Minor god of Os'jen'thana representing slyness and stealth [Ref. Hunting Rituals]. Other [Ref. Biography]. Karrde clicked the last reference link, already suspecting what would come next. He was proven right. Liyuma, son of Alda Magor and Lyve Waroon. Born 3.501:10:00 BCT, place of birth [Ref. Os'jen'thana]. Reborn 3.496:10:04 BCT [Ref. Rebirth, Ref. Naming Day, Ref. Roj Kell].
He grimaced in disgust, angry at himself for having fallen for such an old trick. No hologram then. "You sneaky old bastard," was his heart-felt comment. "I swear that was the last time you played any trick on me. I swear."
But, deep down, Talon Karrde realized that he would always be on the losing side of this game. Unfortunately. He shook his head curtly, then bent over the keypad again.
"All right then, let's see what you can tell me about the stock market on Coruscant ..."
TBC