CREAM RISES
Chapter 5 – The Eve Of Meckgin
The day of the Eve of Meckgin dawned clear and bright. The airmass over Stalgasin had changed right on schedule and the time of intermittent damp gloom and cold was at an end. Foragers and scouts went out gladly. The hive opened up and pumped in the warm dry air, flooding every hall and chamber until even the deepest recesses of the catacombs were refreshed. Labourers in the foundries and farmers in their gardens, technicians, makers and service drones alike, wherever they were, all lifted their snouts and sniffed at the welcome exchange and knew that Meckgin was at hand. They turned back to their work with uncommon enthusiasm, anticipating the happy afternoon and evening to come.
The Eve of Meckgin was the most ancient of the Geonosians' holidays. Ages ago, they had broadcast their species by sending out a swarm of winged reproductives at the start of every hot season. The males would battle over the females and the resultant pairs would pioneer in the wild, scouting out likely locations to start their hives, making out as best they could and living off their stored body fat until their own first drones emerged to serve them. Most pairs were killed by predators or misfortune long before they ever established themselves, but there were always a few, the tough, smart, lucky ones, that survived the first summer to stamp their likeness on their teeming descendants. Such had been the Geonosians' humble beginnings. Nowadays, the rare creation of a new colony was undertaken in a far more civilized manner, yet the old term for the dispersal of the reproductives remained and had become cause for a general celebration of good fortune.
It was the one and only time each year that every hive colony's precious resources were ever squandered. Festivities always began just after high noon with the unprecedented early shutdown of work and release of countless labourers from their toil. After that would come the entertainment in the games coliseum, a full afternoon's worth, which all were encouraged to attend and enjoy while the Eve of Meckgin feast was prepared. This special meal, at one time reserved for the young males and females destined to depart the home colony, was now extended to all Geonosians; in fact, it was a matter of pride for a hive to be able to set out bounty enough that everyone, even the lowliest drone, could for once fill up and perhaps even find a treat or two of some sweet on their tray. Even better, it was a feast that went on all evening long. The messes would fling their doors open wide as soon as the games were done and one could go in, stuff themselves, come out to socialize and visit and walk about with friends, then go back in to eat some more, repeating same as often as one's appetite and the supplies held out. Everyone loved the Eve of Meckgin, even if they paid the price the next day with hours of bloated discomfort when they sluggishly returned to work.
It was against this backdrop of revelry, excitement and gluttony that Poggle had planned his raids.
But first there were the games, and for the first time ever, Poggle found himself sitting in the stands with his heart pounding not with fervour but with real trepidation as he watched the Gladiators, his supporters, perform. As usual, several were killed, one by the hand of Tau Lee himself during a challenge match, an expected loss Poggle had figured into his plans. Losing Tau himself, however, that prospect was hard to witness. When the champion did his famous routine late in the venations of fighting a reek to a standstill with nothing but an energy lash and his own quick reflexes, then hamstrung and killed the exhausted beast, Poggle was in such a state of nervous strain that he almost vomited. Never had he been so glad to see an event end. His Lesser friends sitting with him managed to get into the spirit of the moment and made up for his glum demeanor with their own loud cheers and gleeful response, but they, of course, had far fewer responsibilities to worry about.
The Lessers lingered in the stands once the games finished and chattered about the afternoon's action like any good fans. They trailed slowly out towards the arena exits at the very end of the departing crowd and took their time at it, stopping on occasion to talk and discuss some more. And carefully, singly and in pairs, they began peeling off from the group and slipped away down service passages or around corners, moving with the concealing stealth which all Geonosians were capable of when they wanted to hide themselves. Poggle soon walked on alone, following the other stragglers, then took a more circuitous route that looped him down to the lower levels. Most of the tiers there were already emptied of spectators and arena workers were erecting the temporary barricades declaring the sections behind them closed to the public. Poggle halted and pretended to watch the drones with interest.
Another Aristocrat already present and monitoring the work spotted Poggle and called to him, and the Lesser hurried over to the higher-status Geonosian obediently.
"Yes, sir?" Poggle asked politely.
"You come with me. I want to talk to you," the other Aristocrat said in a severe tone, and led the Lesser away down a nearby side passage. The instant both males were out of sight and hearing of the drones, they dropped their act.
"Good to see you," Brossar the Patriot murmured. "Did you get all your people away safely?"
"I think so. No one seemed to notice or said anything when they started disappearing," Poggle replied. He paused to draw a deep breath, steadying himself. "Tau Lee came through all right. Three Gladiators were killed, one injured, quite badly, from what I could see. He probably won't be able to fight."
Brossar snorted. "Count on it. They put that Gladiator down already. Severed tendons, pity. My Warriors are all fine, though. I talked to Sun Fac just before I came over here. He was on his way down below to organize your Lessers and sort out some food I requested be sent over. There should be something for you to eat while you wait; it'll help a bit."
"Yes, thank you," Poggle exclaimed, pleased by the Patriot's initiative. He looked back the way they'd both just come. "You still think you can take the arena without any fighting? It seems unlikely…"
"We'll do it. You don't know what it's like around here after venations. It's always a mess, people running everywhere, drones underfoot cleaning up. Nobody will notice a few people going missing. And I'm keeping the barricades up, in case any visitors come snooping about. By the time anyone does realize they've been up too long, we should be in place to handle any troublemakers. Not that I'm expecting much. People here support you, Poggle, you'll see. They haven't forgotten what you did in the arena."
Poggle felt his confidence soar, hearing such words. He suddenly remembered how he'd declared that Hadiss had made a tactical error in sentencing him to the petrana-ki instead of death. Brossar also now glanced back up the passageway.
"I'd better get back out there. Most of those drones don't know what's coming; they're from the common pool. They should be supervised. You'd best get below now too. If anyone you're not sure of asks, tell them you're on your way to find Sun Fac. Everyone here knows he's supposed to be watching you."
"I will."
Poggle turned to go, hesitated. He looked again at the Patriot willing to risk his prestigious position and life for him.
"Brossar, I… You'll be rewarded, Brossar. I promise. For all your work."
"Just make sure you kill Hadiss," his follower grumbled. "If you don't and this fails, he'll decimate us. He'll empty half the hive to get us, Poggle."
"I know."
The Lesser left for the chambers below to begin the wait for the evening festivities.
Hours passed. Stalgasin's work output trickled and ground to a halt. The Eve of Meckgin took hold. Passages and chambers everywhere filled with people, the hoards of drones, made giddy by the surfeit of food and violent spectacle of the arena, scampering and frisking about, and the Aristocrats, mellow and cheerful, tolerating the silly play with good humour and even partaking on occasion, laughing as they abandoned the usual hierarchy for a bit of frolic. A virtual miasma of esprit, euphoria and content drifted through the air and soon permeated the entire colony.
Only at the coliseum did the congenial vapours not penetrate. Brossar was too busy directing his secret takeover and down below, the Lessers, Warriors and Gladiators that had slipped away into temporary hiding were assembling into their raiding parties. The rebels had two primary targets and one considered of secondary importance. Poggle and Sun Fac were to lead the best party of fighters, made up of Gladiators and Warriors with some skill at close arena combat, against Hadiss himself, and Sun Rit had the important job of commanding the group that would assault the primary power plant attached to the foundries. Planning the attack on the plant had already caused Poggle considerable grief. Fac had some small experience with the place, from his earlier days of having once worked just next door, but any attempts on his part to scout out the target on the pretence of looking up old security pals that had been transferred there had been firmly and then suspiciously rebuffed. Recent attempted infiltrations by industrial spies from other hives had apparently made everyone extra cautious and vigilant. Poggle had been unable to acquire any further useful information and there was grave concern that the plant was still being heavily guarded despite the holiday. Nonetheless, it was an objective Poggle deemed crucial and for which Rit had volunteered.
It was also Rit who had suggested that parties of soldier drones led by clever-talking officers could probably gain access to several of the smaller armories during the height of the festivities without too much trouble. Rit had begun his own career at such a post and was sure the minimal personnel left on guard would be disgruntled and easily distracted. Poggle had thought the idea sound and at the proper time, the requisite people currently (and luckily) milling about with the rest of the partying throng in the hive center would gather together and give it a try.
The Lessers were being saved for an attempt on the communications sector. Poggle had some inside help there and expected that any resistance would be low. The Lessers, unfamiliar with combat but quick enough with their own hands or a blaster, would likely suffice as soldiers under the command of more experienced Royal Warriors in such a situation and would be best able to afterwards decipher and work the equipment they captured.
Such were Poggle's intentions and his hopes. Whether he could actually get so many people into place to strike all at once, that would now depend on the distraction he was about to provide.
His troops had gathered at the start of the major service tunnel linking the arena with the colony proper and the huge stores area at the spaceport. It was a much broader corridor than those used by the public and normally restricted for the use of official personnel transporting supplies and other necessities. Even on a holiday, hours after venations, there were bound to be people using the service tunnel, but never in the numbers one would find in the public routes. Poggle hoped that using the less-populous path would allow him to maintain his element of surprise for just long enough.
The Geonosians waiting in the service corridor abruptly perked up. They could hear the rasp of something living scraping stone, caught the whiff of an animal already well familiar to many of them. An acklay suddenly burst into view through a linking passage ahead, rearing its crested head high. It turned to face them, staring hungrily, but moved no closer. Poggle, standing on the acklay's back, leaned to one side to see around its neck.
The Lessers, none of whom had seen anything of Poggle's training of the beast, gaped in their astonishment at the sight. It was one thing to know about it, quite another to see it for yourself. Most of the waiting Warriors and Gladiators had seen it, but still they shrank back a little, their wings lifting up and their hands going to their swords or blasters. Poggle's control of the creature was still tenuous to say the least and no one was exactly sure how it would behave once away from its familiar surroundings.
For the moment, it obeyed, remaining in place at its master's command. The others crept up cautiously, ready to fly or bolt. Some of the Gladiators, Tau Lee among them, took up position before the acklay—well before it, actually—and the rest stayed behind, the lot arranging themselves in squads, two abreast, for an easy, instant dive to either side should the monster suddenly run amuck. Poggle tapped the acklay on the neck with one of the two specially modified pikes he carried, both deactivated for the moment but ready to jolt at the flick of a small lever, and maneuvered it into position in the center of the corridor, then ordered it forward. The beast walked readily, eyeing the nervous Gladiators striding on ahead of it, but not trying to charge or snatch at them. Poggle relaxed a little and took his thumbs off the levers activating the static pikes. He lifted his snout and rode easily, body swaying with the acklay's motion.
Sun Fac, marching directly behind him, at the head of the rear squads, gazed up at the Lesser with a strange sense of déjà vu and simple awe. How could anyone not be impressed with such a leader, with such courage and cunning? Fac was introspective and intelligent enough to know that he was susceptible to a degree of hero worship, but still thought Poggle the most worthy Aristocrat he'd ever seen. Whatever happened on this day, he considered that he would live or die in the service of Poggle the Lesser, not the Archduke that currently still ruled Stalgasin, albeit hopefully for not much longer.
The service tunnel began curving gently to the right and two labour drones guiding a laden anti-gravity sled towards the arena appeared ahead. Both were conversing and didn't even notice the amazing parade approaching them until it was quite close, then both sat bolt upright in their seats and their mouths fell open. Tau Lee lifted one of his swords high in the air.
"Hurrah for the Eve of Meckgin!" he cried as cheerfully as possible. "Hurrah for glorious Stalgasin and Archduke Hadiss the Vaulted!"
The drones hurriedly steered their sled over against one wall and jumped down. They bounced with delight as the party passed them, yelping their own little cheers, all apprehension at sight of the acklay readily overcome when they saw the rider on its back. The Aristocrats waved as they went by, their steps all at once lighter, their happiness genuine. It was their first test of how all the people that would inevitably see them would react and their façade worked perfectly and the acklay behaved beautifully. Even Poggle, uncommonly grim, managed a joyful flick or two of a wing.
They passed three more working parties and all responded in the same way, first the moment of shock upon seeing the acklay, then the delirious realization that it was under the mastery of one of their own and tamed and harmless, a mere display to be gawped at and marveled over. Several of the drones even recognized Poggle this time and excitedly called his name. The parade began to take on a flavour of genuine celebration instead of serving as a mere front.
A major intersection came up. Poggle halted the acklay and waited while the teams designated to raid the power plant and communications center split off and organized under Sun Rit's direction. Fac watched his gene brother and felt a cold dread brush at him. He had the sense that he would never see Rit again.
Sun Rit, far more cheerful than his sibling, strode up to make his good byes. "Well, I'm off!" he exclaimed. "You'll forgive me, boss, if I don't come any closer."
"Understood," Poggle called from his restless mount's back. "Report at once when you have the plant, Rit, but not before. No unnecessary communications."
"Sure thing." He looked back at Fac. "Wish us luck."
Sun Fac couldn't. Instead, he pushed his snout hard against the other Warrior's, then simply stood, breathing in his scent. Rit licked him gently on the mouth before disengaging.
"Awright!" Sun Rit bawled at his contingent. "You four Gladiators out front, Warriors and Lessers behind. Step lively now, this is supposed to be a blasted impromptu parade. We're all overcome by the joy of bloody Meckgin!"
The group marched off, many of them chuckling. Poggle chirruped to the remaining troops, tapped the acklay back into motion, and led his own people onward. Sun Fac walked for a few strides with his head hanging until he remembered that he was supposed to be setting an example and jacked his snout back up.
In the High Audience Chamber at the very core of the royal spire housing the Archduke himself, the high and mighty of Geonosis were celebrating in their own haughty, privileged way. There was a certain irony in making merry in a place normally reserved for matters of suffering and death. The great chamber, almost perfectly circular in structure, its expansive floor edged by several tiers of audience seating and an elevated balcony, not only mimicked the games coliseum in shape but shared its importance, for it was here in this very room that important prisoners destined for execution in the arena were sentenced. Captured alien spies were always judged in the High Audience Chamber and so were Aristocrat felons deemed worthy of special attention. Archduke Hadiss also routinely used it to make announcements of state and sometimes hosted official functions within its cavernous walls. And once a year it was used to observe the Eve of Meckgin and turned into the site of a sumptuous feast for the Vaulteds and a few very lucky guests.
Their observance always took the form of an evening soiree. The high class did love their conversation and needed nothing more to entertain themselves than the opportunity to socialize on neutral ground while being pampered with delectables of food and drink. To cater to their preferences, long tables laden with favourite staples and every delicacy imaginable had been set up on the tiled floor for the Vaulteds to examine and pick over at their leisure. A veritable army of service drones stood by or circulated constantly as well, replenishing the victuals, clearing away used plates and cutlery, offering further trayfuls of tidbits and beverages. The servers snatched mouthfuls for themselves as they worked and also fed the security folk on standby within the chamber, bringing them whatever they asked for so they could remain unobtrusively at their positions in the background. Filling up on the rich food was one of the big perks of working the Archduke's Meckgin party every year for all the drones and Warrior officers.
The high-class Aristocrats wandered freely about, meeting and greeting, showing off their finery and slick, groomed bodies. It was rare for the Vaulteds to gather together all at once and rarer still for them to do so for purely friendly reasons. Meckgin was the one time they were supposed to set aside their competitiveness and relax together in a spirit of cooperative self-congratulation at having led the colony through another successful and productive year. Normally, they did so happily. But this year a certain tension prevailed. Their leader's rule was under scrutiny.
Strength of will was perhaps the most respected aspect of any Archduke and an absolute necessity for enforcing harmony. Hadiss had been a good and strong leader for a long time and even his greatest detractors had never felt confident in challenging him. That feeling was changing. The truth was that Hadiss was getting old and he was not ageing particularly well. He no longer protected his reign with the vicious zeal he once had and his dreams of power had waned considerably. Even a few years ago he would have recognized Poggle as a serious threat regardless of class and would have insisted on getting rid of him after the debacle with the acklay via an unfortunate accident, but now, instead, he'd been content to let his cronies do the follow-up and had accepted their assurances that the threat was contained. As an error, it was one which would compound for him to a deadly degree.
His political rivals had noted his handling of the Lesser affair and sensed his weakness. Here and there about the chamber, little cliques stood murmuring, darting glances at one another. The problem was that none of them dominated the others to any significant degree. No individual stood out as a worthy successor around whom the others could rally, and Hadiss' supporters were too cozily entrenched and lazy to harbour any ambitions of their own. It made for a disgruntled and fractious aristocracy.
Just outside the High Audience Chamber, a far greater harmony prevailed. The Geonosians guarding the door to the room, soldier drones and Royal Warriors alike, had but one thought in their heads; the anticipation of being soon relieved and allowed to go inside and partake of their share of the delicious meal within. Hadiss might have had his faults, but he knew all the tricks of ensuring loyalty, including keeping his subordinates' bellies full.
The guards were so wrapped in their contemplation that it took them a moment to react when an utterly unexpected party of Geonosians came around the corner of an intersecting side passage and began marching up the corridor towards the door. The strangers' class was instantly recognizable—only Gladiators sported such pale colouring—and as the group got closer, the guards could identify Tau Lee himself at its head, resplendent in his full fighting regalia, harness and weapons gleaming, colourful ribbons fluttering. The Royal Warrior in charge of the guard detail hurried forward to greet the great champion personally.
"Sir, an honour to meet you," he exclaimed. "And your people."
He looked round at the other Gladiators, who'd come to a halt in a broad arc behind Tau, filling the corridor. All were similarly attired in fighting garb and the Warrior fancied that he could even smell the blood and other arena odours still clinging to them after their performances only hours ago. Their presence thrilled him and also puzzled him.
"May I…help you?" he inquired politely.
"We're here to entertain the Archduke," Tau said.
"Oh?" Now the officer was really puzzled. No one had said anything to him about a visit from Stalgasin's Gladiators. He studied the face of the champion more closely, looking into his eyes, sniffing discreetly, suspicion beginning to—
Tau Lee struck faster than the eye could follow, slicing the throat of the Warrior with his rapier before the officer's last thought could even formulate. It cued the others into action and they fell on the startled guards with savage authority, killing them as quickly and quietly as possible. A few shouts and shrieks, brutally cut short, were all that marked the slaughter. A single drone had time to engage his sonic blaster and fired it once into the ground as he keeled over dying. The Gladiators, panting in their excitement, eyes blazing like molten ore, seized the door to the High Audience Chamber and yanked it open.
A great clatter of hard feet on even harder stone rattled through the corridor. The acklay shot up the passageway in full charge, followed by running Geonosians. For one dreadful second it looked as if the creature might be too large for the entrance, but then it ducked down, compressing itself, and squeezed eagerly through, Poggle flattened and clinging like a limpet to its back. His Gladiators and Warriors raced in behind him, some remaining to replace the slain detail and secure the doorway.
Total pandemonium erupted. For an instant, every Geonosian within the chamber succumbed to their greatest, most visceral fear—a major predator loose in the heart of the colony amongst the reproductives. Those that could fly flushed instinctively, some crashing into the ceiling or each other in their fright. The land-bound fled before the acklay in all directions or stood petrified, unable to believe their senses. Training and reason returned to the flyers and they unslung their blasters and began firing. But their few seconds of panic cost them dearly. Poggle's own people had already poured into the room and returned fire before Hadiss' easily targeted troops realized the greater danger. Burst, disrupted bodies rained out of the air. The remainder set back down, regrouping, and the invaders rushed them. Within seconds more the fighters were so intermingled that neither side dared use their energy weapons anymore. They went for their blades and the combat turned personal and ugly.
Grunts of effort and pain underscored the screeching clash of swords. The Gladiators, terrible in their bloodlust and unmatched skill, cut a swathe right through their opponents, battering and gashing with their heavy sabers, stabbing with the thin killing rapiers. Service drones and Aristocrats still ran and stumbled about and got in the way. Some fighters tried to avoid them, others simply slashed them aside. The battle became a melee, a nightmarish bloodbath.
And all the while the acklay swept the perimeter of the High Audience Chamber under the direction of its master until Poggle spied a certain sought individual. The Archduke stood under the meager cover of the overhanging balcony, eyes wild and wide as he beheld his ruin, still depending on others to watch out for him. Poggle struck the acklay on the back of its neck and sent it forward.
"Get him!" he screamed, and then, "Hadiss!"
The Archduke spun about. Poggle saw the recognition in his eyes, the fear overcome by sudden outrage. But no Geonosian could stand weaponless before an acklay. The Vaulted yielded to reality, tried to bolt, and the monster's forelegs flicked out, once, twice. Archduke Hadiss the Vaulted fell to the floor in three quivering pieces. Poggle screamed again.
Elsewhere, Sun Fac had his own encounter with fate. In scrambling over one of the toppled banquet tables, he slipped and spread his wings to save himself from falling, hovered and barged right into a hefty body that staggered back. Fac got his feet under him, jerked his head up, and stared right into the face of Nadeer the Devout.
They regarded one another with astonishment. "Fac!" the Commander exclaimed. "What are…" His voice trailed away as he grasped the depth of his underling's betrayal.
Sun Fac made a mistake at that point, a bad one that almost cost him his life. Having only ever seen a side of Nadeer he'd thought slow and doddering, he underestimated the Devout and forgot that all male Geonosians were potential killers that had fought one another viciously for the privileges of mating and status not so very long ago. Aggression simmered far closer to the surface of the Commander than he knew. He should have taken the Devout captive at once and he didn't.
"Traitor!" Nadeer shrieked, and suddenly lunged at Fac, catching him by complete surprise. Fac's weapons went flying. He went down with a squawk of pain and shock, beset by an enraged opponent who was heavier and stronger than himself. Nadeer was so furious that he didn't even try to get at the dagger still strapped to Fac's waistband. He meant to break the Warrior's neck or strangle him with his own bare hands.
Powerful fingers seized Sun Fac's throat. He kicked and clawed desperately, the two of them wrapping together in a deadly embrace, but the choking hold on his neck would not lessen. Fac snapped at Nadeer's face, raking his cheek ridge and jaw, ripping his muzzle, abruptly finding the soft, unprotected flesh of the Devout's own throat and sinking his teeth deep. They lay there, writhing and heaving, both of them slowly suffocating, both of them refusing to give up their grips.
A red haze obscured Fac's vision. He thought that he felt the hands about his neck shift, just a little. Then the body against his bucked with sudden brief violence and the pressure at his throat became agonizing, then fell away entirely. Fac blinked as the haze retreated. He heard his name called and smelled the scent of a friend.
Tau Lee was squatting down next to him. "Let go, Fac," he ordered quietly. "He's dead. You have to get up."
Fac did as he was told and unclamped his jaws and slowly pushed himself into a sprawling sit, shaking off Nadeer's slack arms as he did so. Blood dripped from his mouth and snout. Tau pointed out the ragged bleeding gashes still feebly pulsing in the Devout's throat.
"You got the artery," he said. "I would have finished him for you if you hadn't, but…"
Sun Fac understood. For a Gladiator, interfering with another's kill was a serious breach of etiquette. But he rather wished Tau Lee had gone ahead and been rude for once and spared him a few moments of suffering.
The fresh rush of oxygen energized Fac and he was able to get to his feet unaided. He stared down at the body of Nadeer and trembled as the realization that he'd just murdered a much higher-ranking Aristocrat sank in.
Tau Lee, far less perturbed than he, moved to another body lying nearby, examined it, then slit its throat. Fac saw the feet kick a few times, spasmodically. Whoever it was had still been alive. His senses came fully back to him and his focus broadened until he could again take in the whole of the High Audience Chamber. Much to his astonishment, the fighting already appeared to be over.
The floor of the vast room was in a shambles, littered with produce from the overturned tables, strewn with the bodies of the dead and dying. Tau and the other Gladiators still fit for battle were stalking among the fallen and administering the usual brutal standards one applied to wounded Geonosians, killing anyone who was crippled, unresponsive, or unable to get to their feet and walk. Occasionally, they would pause over one of their own and allow a Warrior or two to come and carry the individual away for further evaluation. Mostly, they just put the injured down with a skillful stroke of a blade.
As Poggle had hoped, most of the Aristocrats attending the festivities had been unarmed and had scrambled for cover almost immediately rather than try to fight. Many had fled into the tiers of spectator seating ringing much of the chamber's interior. Poggle's Warriors were digging them out one by one and bringing them down to the center of the floor. Other Aristocrats, stunned by the turn of events, had simply backed against the nearest wall and stood or sat awaiting their fate, dazed and docile. They were the easiest of all to manage, requiring but a shove in the right direction to get them moving. The surviving service drones who'd been unlucky enough to be on duty when the raid began had also found refuge in the seating area and had clustered together in their mutual terror, clinging to one another and hiding their heads, whimpering and shaking pitifully. A couple of Warriors were soothing them and trying to sweet-talk them out of their huddles.
Sun Fac drifted forward, picking his way carefully. He retrieved his sword and blaster, watched the Warriors for a moment as they cleared away a bigger space to accommodate the growing number of prisoners they were collecting, then looked for Poggle. The acklay was stopped by a wall at the front of the room, its head down, gnawing on a body. Poggle had gotten off the animal and was standing in front of it, holding both pikes upright with their ends on the floor; the acklay's cue that it could relax while it waited in place. The Lesser's face was already turned in Fac's direction and he motioned at the Royal Warrior to join him.
"Brossar called in," Poggle said as Fac approached. "He's managed to secure the arena without alarming anyone, just as he predicted. The comm center's ours and so are the east and south armories. It's just Rit we're waiting for now."
"Oh. Good," Fac croaked. His neck still throbbed painfully. He wondered again how so much could have happened in so short a time.
Poggle looked at the blood smeared all over Sun Fac's front. "Are you hurt?"
"No. It's not mine, it's… I killed Nadeer."
"I saw," Poggle replied dryly. "It took you long enough. You must have enjoyed it. I wouldn't have minded getting my teeth into Hadiss' throat myself, but…"
He trailed off and turned his attention back to the feeding acklay. Fac recognized an insignia of high office adorning a scrap of cloth under one of the creature's feet and knew that he'd seen the last of Archduke Hadiss the Vaulted, except for remnant bits and pieces.
Poggle called a Warrior over and pushed the pikes into his startled follower's hands. "Here. Take over," he ordered. To Sun Fac, he said, "Let's go gloat a little."
The Gladiators had finished their grisly task and had begun aiding the Warriors in flushing out the last remaining Aristocrats and hauling them down to the center of the High Audience Chamber. Poggle and Fac got close enough to have a good view of the spoils of their success without getting in the way. It looked as though they'd caught or killed every single attendee at the soiree. So swift and devastating had their attack been that no one'd had time to escape or raise an alarm, and Hadiss' own security forces, plentiful though they'd been, had been simply overwhelmed. Not a single soldier drone had survived the battle. True to their breeding and training, they'd fought until killed or too badly injured to continue and none of those wounded had been fit to leave alive. Their officers, Royal Warriors especially selected for their fierce loyalty to Hadiss, had also fought to the death, and it was pure luck that a pair of them had been knocked senseless during the melee and safely captured. They'd been herded in with the rest of the prisoners where they now stood staring back at their fellow Warrior captors; frustrated, shamed, and a little bewildered.
Sun Fac glanced over at Poggle's face. It wore the same expression Fac had seen in the arena months ago, a look of fierce defiance tempered by a vast satisfaction and something else that was almost feral in its cold piercing intensity. Whatever it was, it made the Warrior uneasy and he looked away, glad that he was not one of Poggle's enemies.
A sudden scuffle erupted. An Aristocrat, by no means cowed, had snatched away the dirk of a careless Warrior trying to take custody of him and the two of them crashed to the floor as they fought for possession of the weapon. Before any of Poggle's followers could react, another Aristocrat close to the action calmly waded in, grabbed away the dagger in turn and plunged it into the waist of his colleague, aiming the blade with considerable expertise. He backed away, putting his empty hands out to his sides, as the Warrior he had saved pushed and kicked at the dying body on top of him. Two Gladiators advanced on him anyway, lifting their swords, seeing only an enemy that had offered fight, and Poggle, who'd witnessed everything, yelled at them to stop just in time.
The Lesser and Fac made their way over. "You, I like already," Poggle exclaimed as he came up. He sniffed at the stranger and looked over his sturdy body and the long dangling wattles hanging from his snout. "You're a Vaulted?"
"I am, and please don't hold it against me. We're not all pompous dolts," the unfamiliar Geonosian said. He looked past Poggle's shoulder. "Hullo, Sun Fac."
"You know me?" Fac asked, cautiously.
The Vaulted lifted his snout in a rather condescending manner.
"Several years ago," he said, "one of my Citizens came to me pleading for recovery time for a Royal Warrior who'd been blinded in one eye while carrying out his duty. He convinced me that this Warrior was an exceptional officer and would regain his sight." He eyed Fac as though he were examining him in his office, as though the ring of grim assassins surrounding him simply did not exist. "Who'd have guessed that I was extending mercy to a future revolutionary?"
"Sperr," Fac intoned.
"The Foundry Master?" Poggle interjected, eyes brightening. "Well, Sperr, you're one Vaulted I could find some use for."
"I expected so," Sperr replied, still cool as could be. "I've heard some of your rhetoric, Poggle. Quite the ambitious fellow, you are."
"Is that so wrong?"
"Not at all, although you'd think otherwise to hear Hadiss go on about it." He looked over to where the acklay was contentedly munching away on its unexpected feast. "I always hated his defeatist whining. Not that he'll be doing any more of it."
Poggle laughed. The other Vaulteds, those composed enough to have followed the little drama, glared at the turncoat with varying degrees of hatred, disbelief or incomprehension. Sperr ignored them. He was far too absorbed in the business of bartering for his life.
Sperr's sheer audacity was what won Poggle over in the end. He motioned to the Vaulted to stand aside before addressing his followers.
"Watch him, but let him be," he said to them. "All these others, lock them up!"
The waiting Warriors and Gladiators fell to their task with considerable pleasure, some handling their charges far more roughly than necessary. One of the Vaulteds, feistier than the rest, began struggling fiercely as two Warriors took hold of him.
"You'll pay for this, Poggle!" he shouted, digging in his foot-claws. "I have friends!"
Poggle grimaced, raised his blaster, and fired it directly into the Vaulted's face. He flew back as if catapulted, head pulverized.
"Not anymore, you don't," said Poggle, then added, to the two stunned, empty-handed Warriors, "Well? What are you waiting for? Toss that carcass to my acklay!"
They hurried to comply, casting more fearful glances at Poggle than at they acklay as they did so. The Lesser confronted the remaining prisoners. "Anyone else have a complaint?" he demanded.
The captives turned their faces away, some of them cowering. Poggle watched carefully as the guards prodded them forward and they filed past him, taking note of those who looked angry or sullen and resentful, marking down in his memory the frightened, bewildered ones whom he could likely sway to his cause. The only two Royal Warriors still left alive also showed promise. Poggle saw them glancing hopefully at their fellow class members, their allegiance to Hadiss starting to wane.
Poggle checked on the acklay. It jerked its head up fearfully as he approached, then relaxed and resumed eating its latest tidbit when the Lesser did nothing but stand and watch. Poggle noticed a flash of gold amidst the strewn remains. On a whim, he walked forward, heedless of the feeding beast, and picked out a segment of lower leg which was wrapped with a short coil of bright golden metal just above the foot. The Warrior who'd been designated temporary acklay handler watched dumbfounded as Poggle continued searching through the discarded remnants until he'd found and pulled out the matching upper limbs, each identically wrapped with a plain coil of gold.
Poggle dumped the gruesome little bundle at the handler's feet. "Here. Keep an eye on these. Make sure they aren't gathered up for recycling."
"S-Sir?" the Warrior exclaimed. He'd never heard of anyone wanting body remains for themselves. He wondered whether Poggle meant to salvage the limbs' decorative bands of gold.
"Just watch them, I said," Poggle reiterated. "I've an idea." Abruptly, unexpectedly, he laughed aloud. "A good one," he concluded, oblivious to the poor Warrior's confusion.
Sun Rit still hadn't reported in. Poggle took to his feet, making his rounds of the great chamber, his keen eyes and mind missing nothing. Fac was still standing close to the spot where Poggle had made an example of the rebellious Vaulted. He looked forlorn, almost lost, obviously torn between his natural inclination to pitch in beside his comrades and the demands of his higher status. Poggle left him to work it out on his own. He had more confidence in his chosen lieutenant than Fac sometimes had in himself.
Tau Lee, who'd been busy seeing to his own comrades, lifted his snout as Poggle walked past, then started after him. He slowed after only a few steps, seemed to hesitate, and changed course, making for Sun Fac instead. The Royal Warrior jerked his head around nervously as the Gladiator came up to him.
"Fac, listen, about my wounded. Some of them took blaster fire. I put down the worst ones already, but there are a couple of others that only took partial hits. They'll recover if you give them time. Even if they could have just a day, so they can lie still until the bleeding stops, it'll—"
"Take it," Fac interrupted in a hoarse voice. He watched Tau's eyes widen with surprise and pleasure at his ready compliance before the Gladiator nodded, turned, and walked off. Another Geonosian, one of Fac's residence-mates, approached and made his case in turn.
"We've got wounded too, with the same kind of injuries," the Warrior told him. "Mar Pak and one of the Tacs. And Noh Mac's cut up pretty bad, though it's nothing that wouldn't heal. If they could have a few days…"
Sun Fac shook his head numbly. The Warrior went back to tend to their friends. Fac became aware that the Vaulted, Sperr, was standing quite close by and was staring at him strangely, and the Warrior edged away from him, self-conscious and unhappy.
Poggle came by again, head high, striding with tremendous energy, focused and purposeful. Fac trailed after him apprehensively.
"Sir, I— About the wounded. I said they could have recovery time."
"Well, so they should. We haven't enough people yet as it is to consider wasting anyone."
"Yes! That's what I thought! So is it— That is—"
Poggle stopped and looked at his lieutenant more closely.
"Fac. You're doing fine. Don't be afraid to use your own judgment. I trust you."
"Y-Yes, sir," Sun Fac stuttered. "Of course, sir."
The Lesser reached a hand out and touched the other Geonosian on the arm.
"It's exciting, isn't it?" he remarked, all but winking with good humour. The unexpected levity had its intended effect and Sun Fac gusted out a huge breath, expelling most of his anxiety along with it.
"Yes. Yes it is," he said in a more normal tone.
"The worst is over, I think," Poggle added. "Now the fun begins, eh? For both of us."
Sun Fac regarded the Lesser—his new Archduke—with dumb devotion. Poggle patted his arm again, brushed his muzzle fondly with his own, then left his lieutenant to carry on. Fac stood alone for a moment longer, mustering his resolve.
Sperr was still watching him out of one eye. The sight of the smug male who had once held the power of life and death over him and who could still look so self-assured despite the disaster that had befallen his station filled Sun Fac with sudden, irrational rage. He marched up to the high-class Aristocrat and glared at him as he would a recalcitrant drone.
"Do you have something to say to me?" he snapped.
"Not me," Sperr replied, and averted his face and sleeked his wings down flat against the back of his body. Fac wished Sperr hadn't been so swift in submitting. He would have enjoyed having an excuse to slap the Vaulted across the muzzle.
The raid seemed to be winding down. The chamber had been secured. The captives were all gone and under guard. The two Warriors assigned to round up the hysterical service drones had not only managed to calm and reassure the simple-minded creatures, but had put some of them back to work at scavenging through the spilled food and drink. Poggle was still striding about, issuing orders, and Sun Fac decided to inspect the wounded. The badly injured that had been spared were all lying quietly, their eyelids already drooping as they drifted in and out of the light torpor that best facilitated healing. Those with lesser damage were busy stripping the bodies of the dead of their harness and weapons before dragging the corpses over to the delighted acklay. Fac was relieved to note that all of them seemed sound and alert, although many were pausing to lick at their wounds or shake the blood from their heads. All in all, they'd gotten off remarkably well, despite the ferocity of the fighting.
Fac saw Poggle stop and lift his hand to speak into the communicator strapped to his wrist and the Warrior raced over to join him. Even before he got within earshot, he could tell by the expression on Poggle's face that the news was good.
"…so confused they starting popping off at anything that moved," Fac heard Sun Rit's voice—his wonderful voice—say as he came up, "but we got them disarmed, finally. I've got their own officers watching 'em now."
"Their own officers, you said?" Poggle exclaimed sharply.
"Yes!" Rit replied with equal emphasis. "Boss, most of the Warriors here tossed their weapons rather than fight us. Some of them even turned on the few that didn't and stopped them from firing. I think it's because when we first ran in, I yelled that it was a coup in the name of Poggle the Lesser and Sun Fac, thinking that some of Fac's old buddies might, you know, still be kicking around. I guess some of them were and figured if a stiff-necked sniveler like Fac was backing you, you had to be legit."
"Rit, you idiot!" Sun Fac exploded. Poggle started to laugh. It was the third time he'd laughed on that long, long day and the first time he did so with complete abandon, expressing both his delight and relief. Rit on the other hand, didn't miss a beat.
"Oh, is that you, Fac?" his disembodied voice inquired. "Are you still alive? Glad to hear it, I think."
"All right, enough," Poggle interjected, although he was still chortling. "What about the workers and supervisors?"
"All secured," Sun Rit assured. "It really wasn't much of a battle. Most of the labour drones probably don't even realize yet that the plant's changed hands. It was mostly trying to get all the soldiers under control—without killing or hurting them, that is—that took all the time. Oh, and I've got some sti—, um, I mean, supervisors here that want to come onside. They didn't try to fight us either."
"Lock them up for now. Tell them we'll hear them out later," Poggle decided.
Sun Fac leaned closer. "And when you do lock them up, make sure you keep them separated from the others. We don't need them killing each other off in the cells," Fac added, then looked at Poggle. "So we don't waste anyone, sir."
The Lesser nodded. "Good, Fac. Exactly right. The more Aristocrats we can turn now the better." He swung his muzzle back to his communicator. "Rit. The Warriors there, you're sure of them?"
"I'd say so, boss. They're working beside our own people already and looking pretty happy about it. It seems you have quite the fan following here. Wish we'd known about it beforehand."
Poggle wished so too. He praised Sun Rit for his efforts and signed off, then stared off for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He'd done it. He'd really done it. Every objective was now his. He had no doubt that his people could retain what they'd taken and no uncertainty whatsoever that the vast majority of Stalgasin's inhabitants would accept him as their leader. He was, after all, the famous Poggle, the one who'd won the petrana-ki, who'd defeated and mastered an acklay; Poggle the Lesser—a mere Lesser!—who'd dared to pit himself against Hadiss and who'd emerged victorious. Archduke now. Archduke Poggle the Lesser. Yes, he would keep his class title. How the other Archdukes would hate having to say it, to be reminded with each utterance that they were really no better than the lowliest of all Aristocrats.
A great exhilaration swept through the new Archduke and he suddenly leapt up for the sheer joy of it. The balcony overlooking the floor of the High Audience Chamber, the site where Hadiss would have stood when he addressed his minions on formal occasions, beckoned and Poggle flew there now, his wings bearing him as easily as though he were the lightest of spun spider silk. His people cheered him as he took his place and cheered again when he flung his arms wide in triumph and cried, "The colony is ours! I'm the ruler of Stalgasin!" And although it was his destiny in the years to come not to rule wisely, never could it be said of Archduke Poggle the Lesser that he did not rule memorably or pay his dues.
TBC