CREAM RISES
Chapter 4 – Poggle Gets Lucky
Poggle slapped a pile of notes on the grooming table in front of Tau Lee's muzzle.
"There," he exclaimed. "As requested."
For a long moment, nobody moved. What Poggle had done was incredibly rude. The three service drones that had been working on Tau were literally frozen with fear, terrified that they were about to be enveloped by a shrieking brawl. But the Gladiator remained uncommonly calm. All he did was lift his head and gesture at the entrance, and the drones scooted out gratefully to wait in the passageway, leaving their grooming paraphernalia behind. After a further moment, Tau propped himself up on one elbow and reached for the money. He lay there on his slab of stone, comfortable and confident, lean body glistening with freshly applied sweet oils, and carefully counted the notes, then he counted them again. He looked up at Poggle.
"This is a rather large amount."
"It's what you wanted."
"Where did you get this money?"
"Never you mind. All you need to know is that there's more of it. A lot more."
The Gladiator studied both of his visitors more closely. Sun Fac, standing a few steps away, looked taut and nervous, but then he always appeared nervous when in the Gladiator's presence, which was just how Tau Lee liked it. This Poggle character, however…
Tau put his feet out and rolled off the table and stood up. The money he took and stashed in the nearest handy cubbyhole carved into the living rock itself, then he returned to his guests. He looked over Poggle's body and that of Sun Fac. He smelled the Lesser with great care, breathing through his mouth to best analyze the markers of his distinctive signature odour. Poggle tolerated the examination, but only just. His fingers and wings twitched as Tau sniffed him and he never stopped watching his temperamental host.
"Leadership agrees with you," said Tau at last. He looked again at Sun Fac, back at Poggle. "You're thickening up."
It was true. Now that the Gladiator had pointed it out, they could all see that Poggle's shoulders and chest had broadened compared to those of the other two Geonosians. His body furnishings were starting to develop, a natural reflection of full male maturity, but also of dominance. Poggle touched a hand to the exoskeletal ridges beneath his long throat.
"Whatever," he said dismissively, although in truth he was pleased with Tau's observation. "Will you speak to your people now?"
"I already have," Tau said. "I had a feeling you'd be back." He regarded the Lesser with sudden approval, his mood all at once much milder. "It'll be good to have an Archduke who knows what it's like in the arena."
The casual confidence inherent in his unexpected statement fell as welcome rain on parched land. Poggle's eyes glimmered and Sun Fac's tense stance relaxed somewhat. "Well! I'm glad to hear you've changed your mind about me," the Lesser said.
"Don't misunderstand. I still don't care for this business of yours of disregarding class. Still, you've an air about you. You really believe you can do this, don't you? Become Archduke?"
Poggle snorted. "You think I'd risk my life if I didn't?"
"I suppose not." A hint of the Gladiator's earlier suspicion returned, hardening his voice and expression. "You'd better hold to your promises, Poggle," he warned. "I can be a lot more efficient than any acklay."
"He will," Sun Fan snapped angrily, an outburst which had the odd effect of amusing both other Geonosians.
"Easy, Fac," Tau soothed. "I've no cause to hurt your…friend. Not yet, anyway." He turned his attention back to Poggle. "Loyalty already. I'm impressed."
"What can I say? Sun Fac's a perceptive fellow." He turned his head towards his lieutenant to share the joke, but Fac was having none of it; he was still staring at Tau Lee with surprising venom, his newly aroused protective instincts for once overcoming his natural deference to the Gladiator. Poggle was secretly delighted by Fac's fierceness. He could see that Tau, beneath his amusement, was taken aback by the Warrior's change in attitude and was glancing at him in a speculative way, drawing his own conclusions. All of which favoured Poggle's position.
The Gladiator seemed to come to a decision. "What do you want us to do?" he asked of Poggle.
"Nothing for the moment. I'm still waiting on other developments. But don't worry…" He jacked his head up, eyes narrowing. "I'll want you there when the fighting starts. Right by my side. In the meantime…"
The two other Geonosians cocked their heads, intrigued. "Yes?" Sun Fac prompted.
"I've a very special project in mind…" Poggle replied.
Sun Fac was not feeling quite so eager a few nights later when Poggle gathered some of his chief conspirators together for a secret meeting in the bowels of the arena's service area. Appropriately, given the setting, all of those present aside from the Lesser himself were employees of the coliseum. Tau Lee was there, as sharp and keen as ever, as were the two remaining Suns. And so was Brossar the Patriot, solid member of the middle class, whose well-developed body and big head with its flaring casque and cheek ridges lent a certain imposing maturity to their otherwise youthful-appearing group.
Brossar, a Geonosian of undeniable talent and quality albeit little charm, had already proven himself invaluable. He was exceedingly bright, entirely sensible, knew the operation of the arena inside-out and was a long-time master at the status game. Once onside, he'd quickly and discreetly made his own rounds and determined who among the upper staff supported Poggle and who was not to be trusted, and had delivered the welcome news that all but five individuals, those five including the two Devout Commanders and the Arena Master himself, could be considered potential followers. He confirmed that the vast majority of Royal Warriors and all of the Gladiators would fight for Poggle and that the well-trained soldier drones and picadors could be counted on to do as their officers told them. Only Sun Fac ever seemed an ambiguous puzzle to Brossar. The first time the lot of them had met, he'd looked at Fac and gruffly remarked, "I never thought I'd see the likes of you mixed up in something like this." Rit, delighted, had burst out laughing and Fac had flushed so hard with embarrassment that his eyes had glinted red with blood. Fac was still leery of Brossar, even though the Patriot was quite willing to set aside the usual rigid social conventions during their secret dealings and had never been known to abuse his rank or bully anyone at any time.
Poggle had been greatly excited by Brossar's report. The pledges of support from people with serious combat ability plus the Patriot's access to the coliseum's armory meant that Poggle finally had a real shot at achieving his goal. His only concern was that the higher-status Aristocrats would not fight for him at full capacity or might fall back on ingrained conditioning and question his authority during a moment of crisis. Poggle had always bossed his Lesser peers and drones around without a second's thought. His ability to control all these loftier folk he was not so sure of.
Which was why he intended to inspire them by riding an acklay into battle.
And not just any acklay, but the same beast that had once chased and tried to kill him in the arena. Its agenda hadn't changed any since he'd seen it last. It struck vainly at the bars separating them even as he watched and wove its head from side to side as it tried to pinpoint the location of the prey it sensed just outside its small holding chamber; a superbly fashioned, acutely dangerous, always hungry predator.
Poggle turned to the beast manager, a Citizen, standing in the acklay's pit with him. "You're sure this is the same one?"
"Absolutely," the manager assured. "I must admit, we weren't happy with you injuring it. They're very valuable animals, acklays are. We almost lost it, not so much because of the wound, but because it couldn't eat for a time and almost starved to death. It seems fully recovered now, though. I used it in the arena for the last couple of venations and it performed well." He paused while the creature noisily raked its impressive teeth over the grillwork confining it. "Better than before, actually. Seems more ill-tempered, not that they're ever anything but vicious."
Poggle snorted. "How does it behave with the handlers? One with a pike, I mean?"
The other Aristocrat regarded the Lesser soberly.
"We never go in with it. If we want to clean its pit, we entice it into its cell with food, and that other gate there opens directly into the corridor that leads it into the arena. I wouldn't go near it on foot myself." He pointed up at the edge of the deep depression they were standing in. "See those railings? We had to put them up around all the acklay pits. The brutes were leaping up and snatching stupid drones that were leaning over the edge, trying to have a look. They're very quick animals, a lot quicker than you'd expect. It's lucky for us they aren't built for climbing, otherwise I'm not sure how we could keep them confined and alive."
Poggle had seen enough. He motioned to the picadors that had accompanied them and took a pair of static pikes from them. Up above, Sun Fac's hands clenched all the harder on the blaster he was holding and a slight moan escaped him.
"Poggle, please, please, sir, reconsider," he called down. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes he does. Leave him be," Tau Lee exclaimed. In response to Fac's furious glare, he added, "What? I want to see this. I've always wondered if those things could be trained."
"YOU go down there then!" Fac retorted angrily.
"Huh! I'm not the crazy one here."
Their incipient argument was cut short by the arrival of the beast manager, who fluttered up to join them, and the two picadors, who scampered up the rough sheer walls and out under the railing with polished ease. The Lesser remained in the pit, holding a pike in each hand, focusing all his attention on the monster rattling around inside its cramped holding cell. He could even smell its frustration and dumb fury, rolling off it in hot thick waves. The manager yelled down a last few instructions.
"If it comes at you, run under it between its legs," he shouted. "You should be able to get up the wall and out behind it before it can turn around. And put the pike to its face, not its legs. It won't feel a blasted bit of pain through its legs." He straightened up from the railing and looked at the others. "Well, he does have courage, I'll give him that," he said, shaking his head.
Sun Fac jostled for the best position from which to aim his blaster. Rit joined him with his own weapon, his expression as he glanced at his gene brother sympathetic. The others opted for the best view. Poggle lifted his snout, eyes glittering in the dim depths of the pit with a weird exhilaration.
"Wish me luck!" he cried. "And if anything should go wrong, Fac's in charge. He knows everything."
The Warrior named felt the weight of the others' scrutiny upon him. Brossar seemed about to speak, but shut his mouth again without saying anything. Fac's grip came near to denting the housing of his blaster.
A picador activated the mechanism that controlled the gate of the acklay's holding chamber and the beast within shot out from under the rising bars with a wheezy, whistling screech. It hated being caged and hated even more any intrusion into the tiny space it nonetheless considered its personal territory. It fixed its gaze on the little creature standing to one side of the pit and started for it in a clatter of long armored legs.
Poggle lowered both pikes. He waited. The thick cloying air swirled about him, radiating outward, carrying his scent…
The acklay suddenly reared up, whirled about, and raced straight back and halfway up the wall before falling back down. It scrabbled frantically at the rock in a pure paroxysm of terror, blind to all else but getting away, getting away. Poggle looked up at his followers in triumph. All were clinging to the railing and staring down, mouths hanging open like a row of little trapdoors.
"Close that gate!" Poggle shouted at the picador still hovering by the door mechanism. He lifted the pikes back into an upright position, knowing that he'd have far more trouble calming the acklay than fending it off. It was still digging at the rock with its forelegs in a hopeless attempt to carve itself an exit, bloodying its limbs on the unyielding stone. It pressed its head against the wall as it struggled; panting, desperate, and a little pathetic.
Poggle the Lesser watched, more than happy to allow the acklay time to wear itself out. His rigid mouth configuration might have been forever fixed in a dour frown, but inside, he was smiling…
A long period of dark, damp gloom settled over Stalgasin again, the last probably of the season. That portion of the year that passed as winter was drawing to a close and the long hot growing season, one that was typically marked by blazing sunshine interspersed with occasional violent electrical storms and torrential downpours, was about to commence. Geonosian labour drones were sent out despite the dull weather to repair any weakened portions of the hive exteriors and the dry waterways that channeled away any potential flash-flooding that might find its way inside the colony were carefully inspected. General repair work also occurred inside the hive. It was just that time of year for fixing and sprucing up and preparing.
Poggle's conspirators at the arena and elsewhere made the most of their time too, although not in any way that would have drawn the approval of Archduke Hadiss the Vaulted. The Lesser got his acklay trained just as he had hoped to do and drew up the final details of his plan to topple Hadiss' regime. It was a bold plan, even a crazy one, set to unfold on the Geonosians' greatest holiday; a plan so daring and ambitious in its scope that all the principals involved felt giddy with excitement over its mere contemplation. Poggle went over the outline of his proposal with his secret patron in the Republic and earned enthusiastic approval from that quarter as well. All that was left was to execute his scheme. After waiting for the right time.
It turned out to be the most nerve-wracking thing Poggle had ever done. All his life, he'd been able to exercise his restless mind with plotting and daydreaming. Now that his plotting was temporarily done, he had nothing left but constant re-evaluation and worrying about the others—would they do as he told them? perform up to par? be able to keep their mouths shut and not betray themselves or the plan? Poggle believed that he had found good supporters that would stay loyal to him, but his own class now restricted him severely, as did his notoriety. He could no longer wander without attracting attention and no Lesser at all had any business at a couple of the sites he intended to raid. All he could do was depend upon the higher-class followers that would not seem out of place perusing or visiting such locations to act as his eyes and ears, and make intelligent use of whatever information they could access and bring to him.
The two Suns became irreplaceable to him. Royal Warriors were common and plentiful and few folk ever took interest enough in them to distinguish between them. They were of low enough status to blend in, with duties of a broad enough scope to take them almost anywhere…perfect spies for Poggle. They passed on many of his most crucial instructions during the days of foggy gloom. And they were friends to him, at a time when Poggle needed friends badly. Rit was always able to make him laugh, no matter what, and Fac's stolid faithfulness was very reassuring. They both made the waiting go by much more easily.
And then the final remaining day came at last, the day before the Eve of Meckgin, when Poggle planned to strike. He spent it much as he did every other day, working at his mind-numbing job, visiting the nearest mess twice to eat, looking forward to his rest period when he could go about his real business. One of his hated supervisors even tossed him a kind glance once, but Poggle knew it was only done because the supervisor had mistook his tiredness for docility and was thinking that he had finally learned his place. Poggle had been tired since his return from prison. Though Geonosians did not sleep exactly, they did need rest, but there never seemed to be enough time for that anymore, especially as of late.
This day before the Eve of Meckgin would be different, though. Poggle determined that he would indulge himself in a full night's rest for once and insist that all his followers rest too. The actions of the following day were too important to risk sabotaging due to sheer carelessness.
The Lessers in his residence cell, supporters all, were happy to remain home with him that evening and pass the time with quiet chat. They knew that some of them would likely die the next day during the fighting and it put them in a reflective mood. Poggle did his best to keep the tone of the conversation positive. He was likewise aware that he would not be seeing some of the faces turned to him for much longer and was surprised by how much the thought pained him.
Sun Fac came over to see if Poggle had any last directives and wound up staying a good long while, just for the company. Later, he insisted on accompanying the Lesser into his cubicle, to ensure that Poggle obeyed his own advice and lay down for a proper doze. He'd noted Poggle's weariness long ago and was worried that the Lesser was having trouble relaxing.
Fac regarded his leader with considerable concern. Poggle had been licking his mouth frequently all evening, a sure sign of severe agitation, even though he'd put on a good front of cheerful optimism for the other Lessers. Though lying down on his own familiar resting platform, he still looked tense, his body slung tautly between his haunch and propping elbow, and his eyes had about them none of the softness of a Geonosian about to drift off for a snooze. Fac didn't know what he would do if Poggle ever faltered. He knew that he hadn't a fraction of Poggle's charisma and the Geonosian hierarchy still tugged fiercely at him, hampering his own ability to command.
"You appear a little restless, sir," he said, unable to resist voicing his worries.
"I'm all right. I'll settle down in a while."
"I'll stay, if you like. Or maybe we could go for a quick hot soak."
Poggle laughed at that. His lieutenant's solicitude could be so transparent.
"We'd only make each other nervous. You go on now, Fac. Go get some rest yourself and make sure Rit does too. The two of you are going to have a very long day tomorrow."
But Fac was unwilling to relinquish his anxiety.
"Perhaps a visit with a female…" he mused.
"Ha! And breed more little Poggles to grow up and usurp me? I should think not!"
"I was thinking of a fresh female, sir. There's one I know, from the arena. I could bring her here."
Poggle reconsidered. A fresh female, one newly matured and ready for mating, was quite a different proposition than a visit to a producing breeder. Poggle already knew the breeding cells well. Thanks to his uncommon accounting skills, he'd been picked out early as a likely sire and sent off to do his patriotic duty on numerous occasions. But although his body had always performed eagerly and well, he'd nonetheless grown to hate the sensation of losing control, of finding his mind reduced to the status of a mere passenger helplessly watching as the rest of him obeyed the irresistible commands of the pheromones. Gossip had it that mating fresh females was a much less intense experience, for which reason many males simply wouldn't bother with them. Poggle, however, liked the notion of maintaining his composure. He also liked knowing that any eggs produced would be tossed to the orrays. The first mating was always just to get the female's hormones pumping and her body cycling into a good laying pattern, a test run of sorts, before she'd be flushed out and refertilized by a proper mate carefully selected for her by the breeding centrex.
"That might not be a bad idea," Poggle admitted, and Sun Fac nodded and disappeared.
Poggle thought about females while he waited. They certainly were everywhere, the young ones typically working at menial, nontaxing jobs that got them out into the public to socialize while they grew to sexual maturity, but he could not remember having a single interaction with one, even though he must have, many times. His mind was too busy with other things, he supposed wryly, treasonous scheming chief among them.
Sun Fac soon reappeared with the female in tow. She was already practically dancing beside him, her body bent and her head stretched out and twisted to one side, nudging at him flirtatiously with her slender snout. He murmured to her in a soft voice, then chuckled as he put out a hand to fend her off. The female stood up straight, looking almost comically petulant. She made it clear that she was quite disappointed with Fac.
"Here she is, sir," he said to Poggle. "Her name is Mariss."
The two of them, Lesser and female Aristocrat, regarded each other. She was really quite lovely, Poggle thought, with her sharply arched, narrow face and overall air of well-bred feminine refinement. Her eyes, large and luminous, shone with lively good health and her darkly veined wings glittered as she pertly rustled them. Evidently, what she saw of Poggle appealed to her equally well. Before he could say a word, she had hopped up on his resting platform and sat down beside him, exchanging suitors as readily as she changed her mind. Sun Fac looked a bit pained by her instant dismissal of him, but took it with good grace.
"Until tomorrow, sir," he said, retreating discreetly, and Poggle nodded his own farewell. The Lesser was feeling unexpectedly tongue-tied. He had no experience with chatting up females and had no idea of what it was they liked to talk about or, indeed, what it was like to talk to one at all.
It was, he discovered, about like talking to a drone. Mariss didn't have a clue in her pretty little head.
"You're Poggle," she chirped, looking at him coyly.
"Um. Yes I am."
"I saw you fight in the arena. With your two friends."
"Ah. Did you now?"
"Yes. You were so brave." She plucked at his closest leg, rubbing the bend of his stifle. "I liked when the other Geonosian got eaten. I'm glad it wasn't you, though."
"I'm glad too," Poggle said, feeling as stupid as she sounded. Yet how could he dislike her? Females were the lifeblood of any hive colony. They looked upon all males as their friends and protectors and trusted everyone to care for them, and no one, drone and Aristocrat alike, could deny them. Poggle was already making his own concessions. Any other stranger sitting down next to him and pawing his leg would have prompted an immediate vicious retaliation, yet with this one, he would allow it. He would allow her anything at all.
Mariss fearlessly fingered the edge of his left outer wing, tugging at it. "Can you fly?"
"Yes. I guess. I haven't, for a while."
"You didn't fly in the arena. I would have flown. I'm scared of acklays."
"Well, Mariss, when I was in the arena, I couldn't fly. I was wearing a brail."
"What's that?"
"A de-…a leather strap. They tie it around the base of your wings to stop you from flying."
"Oh." She shook her snout, delicately. "That's not fair."
"Believe me, I didn't think so either, at the time."
She prattled on and Poggle regarded her with some bemusement. Now that she was close to him, she certainly did smell enticing, but nowhere near enough to arouse him. He supposed he would have to engage in some sort of sex play with her to generate the requisite excitement and he was not at all sure how to proceed further.
Mariss knew what to do. Driven by her feverish need, she snuggled up to her hesitant partner and stuck her head under his, bumping the sensitive bare underside of his lower jaw with her snout. It made him tuck his chin and tilt his head down, bringing his muzzle close to the side of her proffered neck. Tentatively, he gave it a lick. It tasted good. Encouraged, he licked her again, rather more thoroughly, then paused to savour the odours, mouthing them thoughtfully.
Poggle began to relax, the tension and worry melting away before the onset of sensations far more pleasurable. Even her rambling chatter became enjoyable to listen to. It occurred to him that the only way Sun Fac would have known of Mariss' condition was if he'd been routinely monitoring her with the intention of someday mating her himself. Instead, he had brought her to Poggle.
"You like Fac, don't you?" he asked Mariss.
"Oh yes," she replied happily. "He's always very nice to me."
Poggle didn't doubt that. Everyone was nice to a young female Aristocrat. Only an abnormal Geonosian would behave otherwise.
"When I'm Archduke," he said to her, "I'll see to it that Fac pays you a visit. You'd like that, wouldn't you? To have some offspring by Fac? A nice batch of little Royal Warriors, just like him?"
"I'd love that," she said, and tittered endearingly and nuzzled his throat. Poggle knew that in truth, once she began to swell and produce, she'd be lucky to remember her name let alone the kind, odd-eyed officer who used to pay his respects to her at the arena. The only things a breeding female ever cared about was having a warm, safe, comfortable place to lay her eggs and getting enough food to eat. But that was all right. It was as it should be. Everyone contributed to the functioning of the hive in their own special way.
Poggle finally put his arms around Mariss and that was as it should be, too.
TBC