Here is the first chapter my new story, I hope it stimulates your interest. All reviews, both good and bad, are greatly appreciated.
There were nearly fifty people of varying ages and species that the Yuuzhan Vong warriors had assembled just outside the Sacred Precinct of Yuuzhan'tar. They were mostly downlevel refugees from the fall of Coruscant years earlier, who had managed to survive on this reshaped planet… until now, that is. Now, their fate would be decided, but the older ones all knew that there was only one judgment that the monster coming towards them would make.
The figure came close to the assemblage. They knew that this was a human male, but aside from that there was nothing to identify him. Only his lower arms could be seen, the rest was concealed by a coarse, off-white robeskin and hooded cloak that was pulled down so far as to conceal the demon's face in shadows.
"Who among you is worthy?" came the deep, sonorous voice from the demon. That voice was so compelling, it sounded so trustworthy, but they knew they could never trust the abomination.
"Those who struggle against pain and death dishonor the greater of the Three Gifts given to us by the True Gods," continued the demon, "To embrace the True Way is to give up the fear of pain that you humans are unable to overcome. Do not let the fear of pain rule you, embrace the True Way and the God-I-Am, and you shall be judged worthy."
"Don't give us that Hutt slime!" yelled one of the older men in the front of the crowd, "You're no god! You're just a murderer!"
"I am the Slayer."
"Like hell you are!"
The man rushed forward and before the warriors could stop him he spat on the demon. Two warriors fell on him, ready to gut him with their amphistaves.
"Stop!" ordered the demon, "This one is worthy. Send him to the True Gods in full ceremony. Sacrifice the others without honor."
The demon turned on his heel and walked away, not visibly reacting when the screams of the refugees reached his ears. But no one on this planet knew how much it pained him.
He soon reached the Citadel of Overlord Shimrra, and only once inside did he push back his hood. The face revealed was prematurely aged, a young human in his early twenties, though he looked five years older. Ragged brown hair streaked with blond from the warm sun of Yuuzhan'tar fell down to his shoulders, and crystal clear eyes never wavered. A scruffy beard covered his face, hiding several small scars. His powerfully-muscled body sported numerous other scars hidden by the robeskin.
Jacen Solo had changed a great deal since the Jedi assault at Myrkr five years ago, where he had lost his younger brother.
As he ascended towards Shimrra's coffer, Jacen reflected on the past few years. A year after Myrkr, he'd been sent to try and lure Jaina into a trap in order to perform the Sacrifice of Twins. Instead of her, Ganner Rhysode had come knocking, his damn overwhelming courage almost getting him killed. But at the last moment, when he was just outside the door, Jacen used the Force to put Ganner into a hibernation trance. And so he'd returned to Yuuzhan'tar to await the arrival of Warmaster Tsavong Lah and Supreme Overlord Shimrra.
Jacen and the Warmaster took an instant dislike, stemming back to their first encounter on Duro. But Shimrra had quickly taken Jacen into his confidence and bestowed on Jacen his great favor, which the young former Jedi used quickly to his advantage.
The battle at Ebaq 9 changed things quite a bit, but Jacen was able to use those events to his advantage, ingratiating himself even more with Shimrra. Nom Anor had been forced to flee to the downlevels to escape the Overlord's wrath, and with Jacen's help had managed to survived among the Shamed Ones and the fledgling heretical movement. Of greater import was the death of Tsavong Lah, chasing after Jaina. Now, the much more sensible and honorable Nas Choka had been honored with the position of Warmaster.
Jacen allowed himself a small smile before he entered Shimrra's coffer. Maybe some of his plans could begin to come to fruition.
Taking a deep breath, Jacen walked in without being announced. Shimrra sat high above the entire assemblage of elites, the dovin basal at the base of the throne forcing the leaders of the four elite castes to their knees. Onimi sat near the base of the throne, his lolling eye circling the room.
Warmaster Nas Choka, High Prefect Drathul, High Priest Jakan, and Master Shaper Qelah Kwaad all knelt before Shimrra and he was chewing them out.
"You are shivering brenzlits!" bellowed the Supreme Overlord. Jacen continued forward unconcerned. "Why is it Warmaster, that our forces wallow in comfort and disuse, while our enemies continue to strike at us from stationary positions? Tell me, High Priest, why is it that more and more of the miserable Shamed Ones are openly opposing our way of life? What does this religion of venerating the Jeedai have that the True Gods do not? Tell me Prefect, why has this pathetic excuse for a rebellion not been demolished already? Must I perform the work for you!"
Jacen had reached the base of the throne, and could feel the pull of the dovin basal. With a gentle nudge with the Force, Jacen reminded the creature that they were friends, and the dovin basal had no need to pull him in.
Shimrra turned his ma'ip implanted eyes on Jacen. At the moment, they burned a furious red.
"Tell me, Slayer, how can these pathetic brenzlits carry out your will and that of your fellow gods? Grace us with your divine wisdom," said Shimrra.
"Fault in the course of the war lies not with the Warmaster," declared Jacen loudly, "He could throw our brave warriors out to battle the infidels, but it would only waste precious resources. Tsavong Lah would have attacked, had victories and defeats, and would have sacrificed vast numbers of warriors uselessly. Worthy sacrifices are necessary, but wasteful sacrifices incur my anger as the God-I-Am. No, Warmaster Nas Choka does well in the eyes of the Slayer."
Nas Choka nodded his head ever so slightly, displaying his gratitude to Jacen.
"But my Lord Slayer," began High Priest Jakan, "worthy sacrifices have not been sufficient recently to guarantee victory in battles. Perhaps if you would allow us to make grander sacrifices…"
Jacen whirled on the priest, doing a masterful performance of being enraged. "You dare dispute my Word! You question my determination of worthy sacrifices to be made in my own name! You question the judgment of the God-I-Am!"
"Belek tiu!" cried the priest as he fell to his knees.
Jacen could feel waves of tightly concealed amusement and satisfaction from many in the room, including Shimrra and Onimi, at Jakan's humiliation.
Shimrra chuckled in amusement and waved a hand. "And in truth, the heretics are of little concern. The greater plague is among the unconverted infidels who remain in our midst, survivors of the planetary bombardment and worldshaping, those slaves who survived the unforeseen disaster on the seedship that brought the World Brain to this planet, resistance fighters who persist on our holy planet, and the Jeedai."
At that, Onimi hopped down from his spot at the base of the throne, capering about near the front ranks of the elite, reciting:
"The Shamed are naught but nuisance flies,
At least as seen through Shimrra's eyes,
The Jeedai are the ones he mourns,
Edged and sharp as senalak thorns."
Shimrra whirled on his familiar, and Jacen's eyes narrowed. Onimi was certainly hinting at something secret or about to be revealed.
Onimi gave the Supreme Overlord a mocking salute. "Great Sky Lord, if the Jeedai Force is nothing but well-trained skills, why have our shapers not created opponents worthy to face them?"
Jacen's heart skipped a beat. Was it possible? Could Shimrra's secret cabal of shapers have created a kind of warrior that could match a Jedi in every way? If so, what did Shimrra and Onimi have planned?
"You spoil my surprise, Shamed One," said the Overlord, "but so be it. Let us unveil our handiwork and not keep the elite in suspense."
Out of the Shapers' entrance marched ten warriors. They were even shorter than Nas Choka, who was small by the standards of the Yuuzhan Vong, they were built to be both strong and agile. Jacen saw them with a much more discerning eye than most others here. Their burnished bronze skin looked as durable as the armor of a warmaster, and their amphistaffs gave off a strange resonance in the Force, stronger than an ordinary weapon-creature.
"What are these abominations?" cried one of the seers, "Armed as warriors, dressed as priests, but with the look of Shamed Ones!"
Onimi laughed before speaking again.
"To prove the Force a farce indeed,
Shimrra's will the shapers heed,
Birthing troops of mingled caste,
Great Nas Choka they will outlast."
Jacen saw these ten warriors for what they were, specially-created Jedi killers. A newer version of the voxyn that had threatened the Jedi years earlier.
"By my will were they created," intoned Shimrra, "they will be known as our Slayers, in homage to the God-Before-Us, they will be our Jeedai. At their disposal will be weapons, armor, and coralskippers of unique design, advanced power, and the ability to travel through darkspace."
"Shamed Ones cannot fight with the honor of warriors!" yelled someone behind Nas Choka.
Jacen spun to the speaker. "Do you dare question the authority of your Supreme Overlord? Tell me, Supreme Commander, do you speak for the gods?"
"Doubt flew from your mouth like a tsik vai, Supreme Commander Chaan," agreed Shimrra, "Step forward with ten of your best men and do what you can."
Chaan snapped his fists to his shoulders and selected his warriors, all of them large and imposing. They had vonduun crab armor, amphistaffs, and coufees. Only two of the Slayers stepped forward to meet them.
Jacen could not help but be surprised. No matter which side won, it would be a terrible dishonor to Chaan and his troops. If he won, the Slayers would still be shown as powerful, requiring eleven to take out two of them. If Chaan lost… then the Slayers might be even more dangerous than a Jedi.
Chaan and his troops attacked, and it was clear from the outset that they were grossly outmatched. The weapons of the Slayers were no less enhanced than the warriors themselves, cutting through vonduun armor, slicing the heads off their lesser cousins. When Chaan's warriors did manage to make contact with the Slayers, the blows rarely drew blood, and when they did the blood congealed almost instantly. The Slayers performed acrobatics that a Jedi would have needed the Force to perform.
It was over a few moments later. The Slayers quietly finished off the last of Chaan's warriors that were still breathing, then returned to their places among the other Slayers.
"Perhaps soon we will have the opportunity to test our Slayers against the Jeedai," mused Shimrra as the elite took collective sighs.
The elites had been dismissed, only Jacen, Shimrra, and Onimi now remained in the grand throne room. It was not the first time that Jacen had been alone with these two, but it was always a time that he had to steady himself instead of keep away in fear.
"What do you think of the masterwork done by my shapers?" Shimrra asked him.
"Nen Yim and Qelah Kwaad have outdone themselves," Jacen admitted, "I am certain that they will acquit themselves well against the infidel Jedi."
"Excellent. Seventy were created by the shapers. Ten of them will remain here in the Citadel as my personal guards. The rest of them will serve you, the God that they were named for."
Jacen briefly wondered if this was some sort of test that had been concocted. He knew that in the four years since he had agreed to become the avatar of Yun-Yammka that he had done nothing to arouse suspicion. He also knew that his natural talents of making friends had extended not just to Yuuzhan Vong biots but to the people as well. Even Yuuzhan Vong warriors found it natural and easy to consider him a trusted friend and ally.
But even considering all of that, this was over the top. A force of warriors so powerful, this would be enough power to overthrow Shimrra, not even counting the loyalty of Nas Choka that Jacen was certain he could acquire. Did they really trust him that much?
"Your consideration honors me, Overlord," said Jacen, knowing that he would bristle slightly at the abbreviated title. But Jacen also knew that it would be considered appropriate for a god to act in that manner; respectful but not subservient.
"I look forward to putting my servants into action against the infidels of the Galactic Alliance," Jacen said, then hesitated briefly, it was time, "Overlord Shimrra, the time of my hiding in the shadows of the True Way has come to an end. It is time to allow the infidels to know that one they consider a Jedi has seen the Light of the Truth. We must lure a small group of Jedi to Yuuzhan'tar. But they must not arrive for another few months."
"I fail to understand your reluctance to face your former comrades," said Shimrra, somewhat mistrustful, "I have given you warriors that are easily a match for the Jeedai, so why do you not go forth and slay them?"
Jacen laughed darkly. "You are not one of the True Gods, Shimrra. I do not expect you to understand the motivations of the divine. Deceit is not the sole domain of my twin sister Yun-Harla, it is often a necessary tactic for a warrior. A dead Jedi is fine, but a Jedi converted to the True Way is better."
Shimrra appeared to think on that for a moment. "Yes, yes it is. Very well. Make your plans, spread news as you please. It is time I go to commune with the rest of the True Gods on the fate of the war."
The Supreme Overlord rose slowly and walked up into his private chambers. Jacen and Onimi watched him go. They said nothing until Shimrra had been gone for nearly a full minute.
"Congratulations, Lord Slayer," said Onimi, "it is good to see that you have truly become the God-You-Are. You are feared by all the Yuuzhan Vong, and soon you will be feared by the infidels and your fellow Jeedai gods."
"Thank you, my friend," said Jacen with a smile, but inside, where Onimi had no power, he frowned.
Though he pretended to be friends with the Shamed familiar, in truth Jacen knew that Onimi was his most dangerous enemy. The only Yuuzhan Vong that had regained a connection to the Force, Onimi understood the great mysteries of the Force at the same level as Jacen.
This revelation of Onimi's accomplishments had, two years ago, cut through all of Jacen's preconceptions about the Force. It had showed him that the Force included all opposites, as Vergere had begun to explain, but on an even grander scale than she had ever suspected. The vision he'd had on Duro years ago, the vision of the balance point, had come to make sense, as well as why he had failed to catch the lightsaber Uncle Luke had thrown to him. The truth was that Jacen WAS the lightsaber, he was the balance point through which the Force flowed. All opposites were one. Jacen Solo WAS the Force, the Force WAS him.
Onimi had learned Jacen was his superior when Jacen understood this revelation. The Shamed familiar had been afraid of Jacen overthrowing Shimrra, his pawn, and tried to eliminate Jacen. The light of the Force had flowed through him, incapacitating Onimi. Jacen knew he could have killed this enemy, but he also knew that Onimi was somewhat of a steadying influence on Shimrra. Onimi had the ability to control Shimrra, and Jacen was able to manipulate Onimi. In that way, Jacen was mostly successful in delaying this unending war. But that control was wearing thin, and so it was Jacen's time to make his move towards finding a solution to the war.
"I appreciate all that you have helped accomplish for the True Gods and I," Jacen told Onimi, "Though I would appreciate speaking to you more about this, regretfully there are many plans I must oversee. You will excuse me."
The last part was not a request, it was an order. Onimi knew that he was being dismissed, and he nodded.
Jacen walked out of the throne room, knowing that his plans may have been advanced by Shimrra's and Onimi's misplaced faith in him. Funny how betrayal could be such a useful tool at times.