The Fall of the Infinite Empire
Chapter 21
Tytus hadn't struggled with the guards. He knew there would have been no point to it. The guards could overpower him without even touching him after all. And if he did resist, and force the guards to drag him away, his children would have seen. He tried his best, once he realized the guards were coming for him, as Myra had said they would, to reassure the children. He wished he had more time to respond, to get Corus, in particular, inside the house so that she would not see. He had been worried too that Brun would do something foolish. If there had been a way to just speak to Sani and have her let her siblings know. Sani had always been Tytus' little rock. Quiet and solid. Brun took after Myra, despite Myra's unwillingness to admit to it. He had her fearlessness and its attendant recklessness. But Sani ran cool where Brun ran hot. Maybe it was better, Tytus thought, to say she remained even. She had her own warmth, especially towards little Corus. But when Sani was afraid she did not get angry as Brun and sometimes Myra would. When a problem presented itself Sani would think before jumping into action. But she had not been nearby when the guards came.
So Tytus had not resisted, and his reward was seeing little Corus crying in terror, and Brun standing next to her, fists balled in impotent rage. The guards had taken him to the same door they had brought him through the first day he arrived. He tried to keep looking back over his shoulder at his children, but very quickly they were blocked from his view. He hoped they would find Myra quickly. The guards took him through the halls of the facility until finally they reached a door which took him out of the facility. Tytus was struck again at the moisture in the air of this world. It was only when they were exiting the building that he realized the facility's air must be kept drier than the outside air. For their comfort he supposed. And Tytus had to admit he was less comfortable in the thick humid air of the jungle world of Lehon. Luckily he only had to be in it for a few moments before he was loaded into a vehicle which waited for him, floating in mid-air. It was an enclosed vehicle, though the top of it seemed to be made entirely of glass. Tytus stepped up and into it after being pushed towards the door to the vehicle by one of the guards. After he was inside the door closed and the guards went back inside the facility.
Tytus waited there in the vehicle for several minutes, thinking about how odd it was that he had been left alone. Weren't they worried he would escape? He thought about it for a moment and realized that leaving him alone proved they weren't. And why would he escape? Would he even be able to survive on this alien world? What did the Rakatans eat? He had never seen a Rakatan eat anything before. The old stories said they were cannibals, but Tytus wasn't sure whether he should believe tales like that. Then it occurred to him that the door which closed behind him as he entered the vehicle probably couldn't be opened. Or at least it could not be opened by him. He pushed on the glass where it had been open a few seconds before and nothing happened. So even if he had wanted to escape he couldn't have. The interior of the vehicle was just a small space with a bench, which curved around the interior, coming out of bulkhead just below the glass. There were no controls for the vehicle that he could see, so Tytus sat down and waited for whatever was supposed to happen next.
It didn't take long before several Rakatans came out of the compound and walked towards the vehicle. There was the one-eyed guard that had killed his cousin the day they had been caught, the one with the brightly colored tunic who had been both at the cave entrance that day and at the city once they arrived there. And the third of their group, dressed in a plain tunic closer to that of the one eyed guard, was, Tytus supposed, the Old Man. Zhed-Hai. Tytus had asked Myra how we knew its name. It took her a moment to understand what he meant. If the Gift she had talked about translated the Rakatan language into their own tongue, what did she hear when they said their own names? She said she heard what they meant her to hear, which was the name. And when they said words that weren't names she heard those as the words in their native language. The language of Tatooine. Of course that name, he had learned from Myra, was just the name of the Rakatan who had discovered their world. Their world whose name was lost. They took everything from us, Tytus thought. Or perhaps we gave it away. How could the Rakatans stop them from using their own name for their world? Did they threaten those who used it? Why would they? What would the purpose of that be? And how would it work anyway? Were there Rakatans in every home listening? There couldn't have been. If there had been the revolution would never have gotten off the ground. No; the truth, Tytus admitted to himself, was that his people have given the name away. They had forgotten it. They had called the world by the name the Rakatans gave it. They had accepted their place in the Rakatan Empire, and honored their enslavers by destroying their own past. Surely some had still remembered the name by the time the revolution began. But they must have died, because Tytus had never heard any name but Tatooine.
But such reflections were for another time. The one-eyed guard stepped aside as the glass exterior of the vehicle opened up to allow the two Rakatans, Zhed-Hai and his assistant, in. Tytus pushed himself back against the wall opposite the door without even meaning to. The assistant sneered at him and then quickly turned towards the front of the craft. Zhed-Hai entered, and the glass wall closed behind him. He stood looking down at Tytus for a moment and then took a seat on the bench opposite him. Seemingly as soon as he sat down the vehicle began to move. Tytus looked towards the front of the craft, where the brightly colored assistant stood looking out the front. The vehicle was making its way towards the cliff. There was no path here that would take them up the cliff, the way there had been a descending path farther along the beach, but nonetheless it seemed as though they were speeding up. Tytus told himself there was no reason to be afraid. The Rakatans weren't going to kill themselves. Nonetheless as they closed on the cliff face he flinched just before the vehicle quickly decelerated and they began to ascend, floating upwards into the air, still facing the cliff before them.
Tytus absorbed the sight before him for a moment before turning back to look at Zhed-Hai who had apparently been looking at him the entire time. For a moment Tytus simply looked back. Then Zhed-Hai opened his mouth, and complete gibberish began to spill out. Or at least it was gibberish to Tytus. Tytus shook his head, and then realized he had no reason to think that Rakatans meant the same thing by a shaking head as he did. Then Tytus remembered that while he could not understand the Rakatans, they could understand him, and he simply said, "I do not understand you."
In the front of the cabin the colorfully dressed Rakatan made a strange sound. Tytus felt like it was a laugh.
"It was," came a voice in his mind. For a moment Tytus was confused. The voice in his mind came as a surprise, but he also immediately thought it was his own inner voice. That was, after all, the only voice to have ever appeared in his mind. But something about its certainty seemed out of place. And the more he thought about it the more alien the voice felt. Zhed-Hai still looked at him, his expression unchanged. Tytus' hand moved to his head, as though alien presence in his mind had come through his skull.
Zhed-Hai raised one of his clawed hands in the air and a door built into the bench opened. Out of it floated a small orb and, with a flick of Zhed-Hai's hand, it moved over towards Tytus, hanging in midair just above and just in front of his head. When Zhed-Hai began to speak again a voice came out of the orb only a second later.
"I can make you understand me, but this is easier on both of us," the orb said.
Tytus looked at the orb in wonder and fear. He felt the desire to reach out to touch it, but thought better of it.
"Will this work for any language?" Tytus asked.
Zhed-Hai considered Tytus coolly for a moment before answering. From his mouth came the harsh lizard voice and the uninterpretable Rakatan language, but from the orb came a cold voice, speaking Tytus' language, though with an odd accent and in a choppy fashion.
"That is an odd question. Why did you ask it?"
"You spoke in my head with your Gift," Tytus replied.
"Yes," came the answer from the orb a moment after Zhed-Hai's own clipped answer.
Tytus did not know whether to say anymore and so stayed silent. Zhed-Hai's eyelids closed for a second and Tytus felt disoriented for a moment, as though he had just fallen a short distance very quickly. His heart raced as he took a deep breath in and realized that Zhed-Hai had opened his eyes again.
"You wanted to know whether this would work to allow communication between different species. Whether those without the Gift could communicate using this machine," came the voice from orb. "Who is it you wish to talk to Tytus?"
"No one." Had the Rakatan pulled that fact from his mind? Was that what the odd feeling was? The alien entering his mind not to talk but to look around? Was there anything he could hide?
"That isn't true Tytus. You had a purpose in mind. You are not the sort to ask aimless questions. You are practical and not wasteful. So Myra has told me," said Zhed-Hai, through the orb.
"I didn't have any plan to talk to anyone. There is no one to talk to but my own people. I just thought, if ever one of my people needed to talk to some other alien, such a device would be useful." Tytus thought it best to tell the truth, not knowing what punishment would come from lying.
"I did not ask about your plans, I asked about your wishes. But it does not matter. And yes, this device can be used to speak a wide variety of languages, though it is fairly unique in having your language. Some Rakatans, weaker ones, find devices like this useful, but there has not been much opportunity for many Rakatans to speak to your people recently."
Since the rebellion, Tytus thought. Since Tatooine had been destroyed.
"Yes, since then," Zhed-Hai said, once again casually showing his ability to tell what Tytus was thinking. "However, we have things we need to discuss now. I am going to be showing you off today to my fellow Elders"
At Tytus' expression of incomprehension, Zhed-Hai continued, "You and Myra were once part of a large tribe in the caves, correct? That tribe had leaders, usually the most experienced members, isn't that right?"
Tytus wondered for a moment how much he should say, but then realized that he did not know what Myra had told Zhed-Hai and that it would be dangerous to contradict her. He realized a split second later that it didn't matter much what Myra said if the Rakatans could read his mind. So he simply answered honestly with a "Yes."
"Well we Rakatans are no different than you, pained as some would be to hear that. We have our rulers, and they are called the Elders. I am one such Elder, but there are others. They are very powerful, Tytus. It is important that you understand that your thoughts will not be private. Unless I am quite mistaken none in attendance will be able to hear your thoughts as easily or readily as I, but every last Elder could penetrate your mind if they decide to put in the effort. You need to keep control of what you think about," Zhed-Hai said.
"How?" Tytus asked. "What am I not supposed to think about?"
Zhed-Hai's real voice made a peculiar sound that apparently did not consist of words, as nothing came out of the translation device. After a moment of silence he started to speak again, and the strange mechanical voice rang out from the orb a second after. "Of course my telling you what not to think about would just make it harder to not focus on that. Better would be to tell you what to focus on. What is safe for you to be found thinking about. I recommend thinking about how terrifying this situation is."
"Should I be terrified?" Tytus asked.
Zhed-Hai showed his teeth and replied, "We eat our own kind sometimes when we are displeased, so yes, being in a room with many of us should frighten you." At that Zhed-Hai leaned back and closed his eyes. Tytus, after waiting for a minute to see if the Rakatan would start talking again, tried to also lean back, but he found the dimensions of the seat made this uncomfortable. It was made for the far taller Rakatans and as a result the lip of the backrest of the bench was far too high, reaching up to his neck, for him to lean back comfortably. He looked out the windows and saw the jungle all around him. They had reached the top of the cliff quite quickly and had been moving through fairly thick jungle along a path for some time. Tytus watched the trees and ferns, and vines pass by the window with awe. He thought to himself that he should not think of the jungle at this meeting of Elder Rakatans, for his wonder might compete with his fear. His wonder at the lush jungle, which he had felt upon their arrival as well, was soon replaced by a similar but less sublime feeling of awe when they came out of the jungle and Tytus saw the city of Kwashang.
While the buildings nearest the jungle were not so very tall, that just meant they could not hide the mammoth buildings in the distant city center. Viewed from so far away they seemed to rise from the earth like mountains. One, a giant monument of black stone, rose above the others. Tytus had seen the city on Tatooine on the day they had been captured and again on the day they had been taken to the spaceship for travel to Lehon. It had been brief and confused each time, and he had not seen it all, but it seemed to him that the city, which had appeared so large at the time, was nothing when compared to this one. All that he had seen of the city on Tatooine would have fit comfortably in just the area of low-lying buildings between them and the city center. While the size of the buildings in the city center, especially the largest which seemed to be exactly in the center, made them visible from the slight hilltop from which they gently descended into the outer neighborhoods, most of the edges of the city could not be seen. It stretched literally over the horizon. Is this the largest city in the galaxy, Tytus asked himself?
"Yes," said Zhed-Hai without opening his eyes, "for we do not allow any other to rival it."
Once again Tytus waited to see if more would be forthcoming from Zhed-Hai, and once again he waited in silence while looking out of the window. As they entered the city all but the tops of the buildings in the city center were hidden from view, and Tytus was struck at how empty the city was. All these dwellings and most of them empty. He saw a fair number of droids, but for most of the trip through the city saw very few Ratakans. As their vehicle approached the city center Rakatans appeared more frequently, but never in large groups, usually just one or two. And always moving. Always going somewhere. No one sat or stood around talking. Tytus remembered back to his youth, among the large group from which he and his family had seceded. People would sit around and talk, just for something to do. Even after he and Myra's family had left they would periodically meet with others in the larger cave system, small groups like their own, intent on making their own way, but still occasionally needing to engage in trade. They would come to see if there was water or food or even fabric for trade. Sometimes Tytus and Myra's families would have enough to trade some, and sometimes not. But even when they didn't the day would be spent talking, sharing stories. That is what people did. But not the Rakatans, or at least not the ones here.
The buildings on either side of the vehicle gave way as it entered a large plaza surrounding the temple at the city's center. Tytus stared up at it until, as they approached it, the top of the temple could no longer be seen. When he looked back down he saw Zhed-Hai sitting opposite him staring into empty space. The door opened behind him. The brightly dressed Rakatan left the front of the vehicle and walked towards Tytus. When he reached him he grabbed Tytus by the arm, pulled him up and pushed him towards the open door. As they passed Zhed-Hai the elder Rakatan opened his mouth and hissed something at his servant, who immediately let Tytus go and stepped out of the vehicle.
Zhed-Hai stood and said, without looking at Tytus and in Tytus' mind rather than out loud, "Do everything I tell you, or you will die."
Zhed-Hai motioned for Tytus to exit the vehicle, which he did. Zhed-Hai followed him out and motioned to the brightly dressed servant, who again grasped Tytus by the elbow and pulled him forward as they walked into the temple. The doors to the temple were massive slabs of stone that rose several times Tytus' height, but even they swung inward smoothly, though slowly, at the approach of Zhed-Hai. Once inside the temple they walked across floors of shiny black stone, with walls and ceiling to match. All was quiet. Seemingly no one else was there. The light was dim, most of it provided by windows set high, near the ceiling of the hallways through which they walked. There was the occasional lamp floating in place, but these gave off very little light. If not for the sunlight coming through the windows, Tytus was sure that the lamps would leave large sections of the hallway in darkness. They walked for some time without turning, moving, Tytus, supposed towards the center of the temple. Eventually they reached a wall. But Zhed-Hai reached out his clawed hand and the wall began to move. The wall was made of many small distinct pieces, which moved, one at a time. Some moved in, some out, all would move up and down or side to side. After a few seconds the pieces had opened to reveal a small room, which Tytus guessed correctly was an elevator, like the one back at Zhed-Hai's compound.
The three of them stepped into the elevator and the strange door closed behind them. The elevator was made of the same black materials as the walls of the temple. A single dim light at the top of the elevator car was the only light, for there were no windows. Though since the elevator seemed to be at the center of the giant temple Tytus assumed there would have been nothing to see anyway. They stood in the elevator for a second before it started to move. The movement of the elevator in Zhed-Hai's complex had been almost imperceptible. Not so with this one. You could feel the movement as well as hear it to some extent. Tytus could not tell whether the long elevator ride was a function more of the height of the temple or the speed of the elevator, but it gave him time to look around and realize that the small orb that translated Zhed-Hai's speech into Tytus' native tongue was not with them. Tytus had the worried thought that he would not be able to understand what Zhed-Hai commanded, and he had just been told that failure to obey commands would lead to death. But then he realized that he had received that command directly from Zhed-Hai without the need to speak, so it should be possible for that to happen again. But what about the other one? The brightly dressed assistant had shown no ability to speak directly into Tytus' mind. Myra had said he was not the equal of his master. How would Tytus understand him without the translation device?
That question was answered when the elevator doors opened and Zhed-Hai spoke into his mind the command, 'Come with me.' The two of them stepped out into a large room shaped like a half circle, with a long table located at the other, curved end. The doors closed behind them, leaving Zhed-Hai's assistant still in the elevator. The semi-circular room had large windows all around it, and Tytus was able to see out them for miles. He saw so far he even saw beyond the great city through which they had just passed. Tytus knew he had been higher than this. After all he had traveled through space. But he had been locked in a tiny room for that. He had never seen anything so breathtaking.
Zhed-Hai was not following Tytus' worried thoughts, for he did not need the distraction. Zhed-Hai was as prepared for this meeting as it was possible for him to be, but that fact did not change how crucial this meeting was for his plans. He had promised a new product for the Council of Elders, and it was time to show his work. If they rejected his new creation it would upset everything. His back-up plans for such an eventuality combined low odds of success and terrible costs. And so he must not fail.
Zhed-Hai strode toward the table confidently, with Tytus following behind, trying to keep up. Before them, seated at the table, were the Elders, with the exception of Soaf-Rushk, who once again appeared via hologram. None of them had left Lehon since the last meeting, something that did not surprise Zhed-Hai. Many of the generals were only rarely able to return to the home world, and this trip gave them an opportunity to see to outstanding political and family issues, as well as a chance to partake of the delights that could only be found in the capitol.
As they reached the table Zhed-Hai pointed for Tytus to stand behind him as he sat in his chair at one end of the table. Soaf-Rushk's holographic avatar looked down at him from the other end of the table. The only absent Elder had been intriguing for the past several weeks against Zhed-Hai, and Zhed-Hai was sure there were moves his rival had made that went beyond those he was aware of. But there was no time to worry about that now. Soaf-Rushk's plan for the Sith had to die, so that the Sith could be destroyed. There was no room in Zhed-Hai's galaxy for such monstrosities.
"Brothers," Zhed-Hai began, "I bring to you know the fruit of my recent labors. It is my belief that this specimen," Zhed-Hai pointed at Tytus as he continued, "represents the greatest of all my creations."
If Tytus could have understood what was being said he would have realized this claim was met with surprised laughter, but Tytus could understand nothing of what he heard.
"This scrawny thing is supposed to be of more use than those giant furry beasts you made for us?" asked one of the generals sarcastically.
"Or the kolto harvesters?" asked another.
Zhed-Hai listened patiently and then, when the sarcasm and false laughter had ended, answered, "Yes, my brothers, even more than the creature that produces the kolto."
Drisk-Koan shook his head, "That bloody fish and its spawn are the reason you are on this Council. How could this," he gestured at Tytus, "compare to that?"
"The Selkath serve an important purpose, as do the Wookies. But their utility comes primarily from how they contribute to the war. The Wookies provide labor at the front too sophisticated and demanding for all but the most expensive droids. The Selkath procure the substances that heal our warriors' wounds. But the war is ending brothers. As was pointed out at our last meeting there are few full-strength Celestials that remain. Those that do are on the run." Zhed-Hai said calmly.
"Have you not seen the report? Another was killed just days ago!" one of the generals said.
"Yes, a juvenile abandoned years ago. I believe you are confusing the death toll of that engagement with the significance of the quarry," Zhed-Hai responded.
"You mean to tell us our business?" Kru-Garth asked mockingly.
"I simply mean to point out that the day of large-scale battles between our warriors and the enemy will be over soon. The need for the field engineering of the Wookies and the kolto will recede. This has been apparent for a long time, and I have searched for new ways to benefit the Empire, to help it meet its new needs," Zhed-Hai continued without taking any note of the mockery from his inferior.
"There will always be war!" shouted one of the lesser generals.
Drisk-Koan nodded and said, "The Sith will be the next war. And as time goes on we will find others like them."
Zhed-Hai shook his head gently and responded, "No brother, I believe the Sith are a rarity. There are, to our knowledge only four species with the Gift. Four in all the thousands of inhabited systems we have discovered. And even the Sith do not present a significant difficulty. However they managed to eliminate our warships, they will not be able to withstand an entire fleet, and not a single Rakatan need go down to the surface to face them. The planet Korriban has nothing of use. We occupied it only to see whether we could profit from the labor of the Sith, and hopefully it is now clear that is impossible."
"Tell us then…brother, what future you see for our people." The voice was that of Soaf-Rushk's hologram. He can sense what is coming, Zhed-Hai thought to himself. Not the details perhaps, but the outline. They had both seen this day coming for a long time, and each had been positioning himself so that, when the time came to put away the tools and habits of war, it would be them and not their rival who filled the gap. And Zhed-Hai was striking first.
"When the Celestials are gone what is there for us to do but rule?" Zhed-Hai asked.
"We rule now! What need have we of this creature from Tatooine?" asked one of Soaf-Rushk's minions. "The Infinite Empire has no need of whatever this is supposed to be."
"The Infinite Empire," Zhed-Hai said slowly. "A fine name we have given ourselves. But is it a name we have earned? It was the aspiration of our ancestors that gave us that name. They looked into the future and saw an empire without end. And what do we have? A few hundred worlds? Of the thousands upon thousands we know are out there. We know there are other races that hold sway over empires of their own. Smaller perhaps than ours, but ours is pitifully small when compared to the galaxy as a whole. We are no Infinite Empire. We have not lived up to the dreams of our fathers. Not while so many planets continue on, untouched by us. Not while there are those, such as the Gree, who dare to rule their own empires."
"I know that some of you are thinking that we cannot expand any more. That our empire is already, if anything, too large. Was this not the problem on Korriban? Our garrison was too small. The Sith were able to organize a rebellion right under our noses. And how many garrison Manaan, the only source of kolto? How many make sure the Wookies never turn their strength and intellect towards rebellion? We don't even have enough Rakatans on the homeworld to make things run properly. Our food is raised by droids, our streets cleaned by droids, our cities maintained by droids."
Soaf-Rushk interrupted, "And they do a fine job of it brother, getting better every day."
"Ah yes, brother. I know of your dream. An empire run by droids, and the droids run by us. And while the droids you create are not sophisticated enough to meet our needs at present, once they are we will have a near limitless supply of them. But who will really control them? Us? Or you?" Zhed-Hai paused just long enough to see the hologram begin to open its mouth (Zhed-Hai wondered whether Soaf-Rushk had the hologram tracking his actual facial movements) before continuing, "And of course your long service to the Empire should give no one any worries. But who or what takes over for you when you are gone? Every day there are millions of tasks to be performed, each one of which is beneath our notice, but when taken together they make the Empire possible. If we turn those tasks over to droids, and the Star Forge builds all those droids, then we turn the Empire over to whichever Elder controls the Star Forge. And while I trust that we all feel safe placing ourselves into the hands of our illustrious eldest brother, if we give him this power, what happens when he passes from the scene, as we all must do? How much would someone sacrifice to have that kind of control? What would someone not risk to become Emperor?"
At this word there was audible grumbling. The Elders of the Infinite Empire might each want to be the supreme power on the council, but none would accept the supremacy of one individual over the council. Each of them sat at the top of a pyramid of influence and power and considered those beneath them their servants. But their clients had at least the notional ability to change patrons, and no one Rakatan had ever gained sufficient influence to dominate all others. This was the form freedom took in the Infinite Empire. Some were more powerful than others, but none was more powerful than all. To the Elders' way of thinking having a master who sat above them would make them all slaves. And the warriors sitting around the table would find it particularly galling if this power were to be granted to, as one of them had once described Soaf-Rushk to Zhed-Hai, an up jumped factory foreman. Invoking the prospect of such a concentration of power outside of their hands would hopefully be enough to turn back Soaf-Rushk's attack, even without Zhed-Hai having to share his suspicions that the master of the Star Forge had no intention of passing from the scene. While his refusal to appear in person at these council meetings made Zhed-Hai's theory more credible, it was still too risky to stake his whole plan on that throw of the dice.
Soaf-Rushk's hologram replied, after the murmuring had died down, "So we are to be dependent on your creations then, brother?"
Zhed-Hai smiled. His opponent had been too long alone in his space station. He had no feel for these debates, as he once did. Having been provided an opening Zhed-Hai exploited it. "We are going to be dependent on something. All things must either grow or stagnate, and for our empire to grow we must have labor from somewhere. But my creations, while a continuing source of pride for me, cease being mine once I have finished crafting them. How many of you have made use of kolto, or employed the services of a Wookie? Has this placed you under my power? Can I make the kolto somehow not heal you, after it is made? Can I dictate the actions of the slaves I have created? No. Life is not controlled by that which creates it. These humans will, if you accept them, each have only one master, the Rakatan who owns them."
"And why should we accept them?" asked Drisk-Koan.
"Because this slave, for all its weakness, and for all the insignificance of its home world, has something no other slave species has. You have but to reach out with your mind to find what I mean."
Soaf-Rushk's hologram set its jaw, convincing Zhed-Hai that it was reporting accurately the movements and expressions of the absent elder, if not his appearance. The reason for his frustration was evident. For all the strength of his Gift, even Soaf-Rushk could not sense anything going on in the council chambers from the Star Forge. He was, at that moment, quite blind.
Most of the other Elders were as good as blind it seemed. It took several long moments before one of them exclaimed in shock, "It has the Gift!"
A tumult immediately gripped the council. Many of his fellow Elders turned to Zhed-Hai to yell and a few reached instinctively for their weapons.
"YES! Yes, brothers!" Zhed-Hai called out. "This slave has the Gift. And I understand this comes as a shock."
"A shock!?" Kru-Garth bellowed. "The Humans do not have the Gift! They never did! What is this?"
"I have given it to them," Zhed-Hai said calmly. The Elders of the Infinite Empire assembled did not stop yelling all at once. Indeed only those sitting closest to Zhed-Hai even heard what he said. Those that heard did stop speaking of course. What else could they do? They had found out that there was something terrible which they had never thought about, for it was so far outside the realm of possibility that it made no sense to worry about it. But they had found out they needed to worry about this thing the same moment they found out it was not impossible, for it had already happened. The word spread, along with the silence, across the table before it reached Soaf-Rushk's ghostly avatar at the other end, to whom it was left to break the silence.
"I commend you, brother. What skill it must have taken to achieve this thing. But I would be remiss were I not to ask what possible reason there could be to empower a slave race! A slave race that has made war upon us! I would be failing in my role as senior member of this Council were I not to ask how you could possibly think something like this was within your authority! To do this thing, without asking us, without even letting us know it was possible!"
Zhed-Hai took the opportunity of a pause to answer the implicit charge by saying, "It is within my authority, as voted by this council, to create new slaves for the Empire. I did not ask permission to alter the Selkath, the create the Wookies. When I had a product ready to be evaluated I brought it to this council, as I am doing today with this human. And yes, I appreciate that I am here reporting a success you might not have voted to let me try, but it is still within your power to put an end to it if you wish. All the specimens are within my compound, living within a sealed environment from which they cannot escape. I have only to press a button to suck the air from their enclosure if this council decides it does not want what I have brought it."
"From which they cannot escape?" bellowed Drisk-Koan. "You have given them the Gift! Of course they can escape!"
Zhed-Hai was grateful for this verbal assault, which drowned out whatever it was that Soaf-Rushk was trying to say. From the mind of Drisk-Koan no dangers would come Zhed-Hai's way.
"Look again brothers. The spark is there, but it is only a spark. This human has the Gift, but it is weaker in him than any Rakatan you have ever encountered, is it not? Those of you who served on Korriban, you can testify that this specimen is weaker than all but the weakest of the Sith. And while only Soaf-Rushk and I are old enough to remember the days of the Esh-Kha you will, I hope, take my word for it that they far outstripped what I have produced."
"So you tell us that your creations are weak?" asked a befuddled Elder.
"Yes. We want them weak. But we want them just the right amount of weak. As they were, before my improvements, the humans were too weak to make useful slaves. They could farm, yes. They could function as useful domestic servants for those that could stand to have them around, but they were good for nothing more than that. Owning them was something of a fashion for a while, but in the long term their primary role would have been providing labor to extract resources, primarily food, from their own home world, a world that is now useless for that purpose. But with my improvements they are now, potentially, the most useful resource in the galaxy. They are the key to our future. With them serving us, the galaxy, the entire galaxy, will be ours."
"Do make up your mind brother. Is this thing weak, or is it the key to power?" Soaf-Rushk hissed.
"It is both. I must, in order to fully explain myself, beg your indulgence to tell you of my own history with this species," Zhed-Hai answered. His request was met with a combination of complaints about wasting time and some amused expressions who seemed interested in how the Elder was going to squirm out of the trouble he had made for himself. But as Zhed-Hai knew when he asked, no one at the table was actually going to deny him a chance to speak.
"I arrived on Tatooine the first time just before the bombardment. My job was to collect samples of the animal and plant life, including of the humans. The world had been of little consequence before their rebellion and so a full inventory of what it contained had not been done. What if there had been something as important and valuable as kolto hiding on that world? So I made my survey, stored my samples, and departed. They actually held off on the bombardment for me to finish my work. I returned many years later. This was during my time creating the Wookie slave species and I was quite busy. But I returned to begin making a more thorough inspection of what we had collected. While there I became aware of the fact that some of the humans had survived the bombardment. This in itself was not so surprising. Most of the survivors had retreated to a series of large cave systems around the planet's equator, though some survived in the polar regions for no other reason than that those areas had been lightly inhabited to begin with and so had not been a major target of the bombardment. In case our collection of humans turned out to be too small, I ordered that some of the survivors be taken."
Zhed-Hai said all this with the air of a teacher, and the other Elders accepted it like students often do, with the pretense of not being bored. Their lack of interest did not worry him. They would be interested soon.
"What I found surprised me. In only a few generations significant deviations had begun to appear between the humans we had collected and those we were finding in the wild. Deviations at the level of their genes. When I first noticed them I thought perhaps they were the result of the bombardment, that it had released toxins into the environment that corrupted their genetic code. But then I found that there was as much difference between the northern and equatorial populations as there was between either of them and the originals."
"So? Why do we need to hear this?" asked one of Soaf-Rushk's supporters.
"They had begun to adapt to their different conditions. The humans we had collected from before the bombardment had lived in a lush, verdant world. The humans after lived in a desert wasteland. The northerners lived above ground, while the equatorial humans lived deep in caves. Already both wild populations required less water than the original population. But the equatorials were also able to see better in the darkness, had stronger hands for climbing, were shorter…"
"Again, what of it? Organisms adapt to their environment. This is the way of things," an Elder interrupted.
"Not this quickly. The humans were adapting far more quickly than I had ever seen, than was natural. And I knew immediately that if this was not just some bizarre accident, that it had tremendous value, though even I did not see the full value right away. But think of it, a species that can adapt quickly to any environment. We have conquered hundreds of worlds, each with their own unique environment, for some of which we are ill-suited. But if these humans were really as adaptable as I was seeing, they could change quickly to fit the worlds we put them on. No matter the world we would have a slave race capable of living there eventually."
"I see the value of a such a versatile slave race, but what does this have to do with you giving it the Gift?" Drisk-Koan was not to be distracted from the main question all of the Elders had.
"I am getting to that brother. The real secret to what the humans do is not, as you might expect, their changeability. All creatures change from generation to generation. Mutations arise and most of them end up killing the organism that has it. What makes the humans unique is how robust their genetic code is. They seem to be able to absorb the changes without other parts of their system being harmed by it. They don't just get a beneficial mutation, they get a beneficial mutation that their genes, in a way, make room for. The equatorial humans started to get shorter, a beneficial mutation given how much less food they had access to, and key aspects of their bone structure changed along with it. It is really quite remarkable." Zhed-Hai chose not to mention the more remarkable and disturbing thing about the humans. For the traits he had seen to have spread so quickly among the populations of humans still on Tatooine, small as they were, required that the initial mutation had appeared in many humans of the same generation. This was beyond all probability, and suggested something was guiding the process. But Zhed-Hai alone of the Rakatans would have known how to do such a thing and he had not done it. His own suspicions had immediately turned to the Celestials, but he could find no trace of their involvement on Tatooine. That line of investigation led to troubling questions about the nature of the power behind the Gift and its role in the universe. All minds have their limits, questions they refuse to ask because they cannot face one of the answers. This was, though he did not know it, such an area for Zhed-Hai. His mind left no room for providence.
"And it made me wonder what else they could absorb," he continued. "What changes could their genetic code accommodate? And so I started experimenting. There have been some great successes, all of which I can show you. There have been some mishaps too. I experimented on one group to see if I could get rid of that fur that grows on their heads. I managed to remove the hair, but the flesh on their head simply grew into long tentacles that resemble the hair they used to have. There are now hundreds of different varieties of human scattered across the worlds of the Empire. But that brings us to what has you all so worried. The Gift. Could I truly alter them so as to give it to them? And if I could, should I? I had the same fears that you all now feel brothers, when I considered it. The humans breed so much faster than us. Give them all the Gift and you create a dangerous enemy."
"Which is exactly what you have done," shrieked one of the Elders. Pathetic thing, Zhed-Hai thought.
"No brother, I have not. For I have not given them all the Gift. Or rather I have given none of them the Gift. What I gave was the potential for it. For all of our history when we have encountered Gifted races the whole race has it. Or the whole race doesn't. For our purposes we can ignore the drones among our people. They are like children born without eye stalks or legs. But all, or nearly all, have it, or none do. But the humans I have created are different. Every human child in the altered group has a chance to be born with the Gift, but it is small. Only one in a hundred has any hint of it. Most of them have so weak a Gift that they will never be able to use it. Only a small portion of them have it to any useful degree. And none of them are Gifted enough to pose any threat to any Rakatan warrior. You see before you among the strongest of the Humans I have created," Zhed-Hai pointed at Tytus. "Even if all of them had the Gift to the extent he does, I doubt we would have much trouble with them. But he is, among them quite exceptional."
"So they are weak?" asked Kru-Garth.
"Weak compared to us, but strong compared to almost any other species. If we breed enough of them, we could have an army of humans like this one. And that army would be sufficient for most of our military needs. They can garrison planets of those species with no Gift at all, and dominate the locals. They are an intermediate race. Strong enough to do most of our most menial tasks, but not strong enough to challenge us. And even if they think of doing so, the fact that the Gifted are rare among them creates an opportunity. This human's mate and offspring are without the Gift. Were we to send him to some other world and he got it into his head to defy us, we would have his family in our grasp. What greater chains are there than those of love my brothers? They are the chains the prisoner never tries to escape from. This is the future. An army of slaves to be used for any purposes we want. Slaves that will never rebel because we have all that matters to them, safely under our control on breeding worlds spread around the galaxy. The innumerable unremarkable worlds, like Tatooine before the bombardment, fit for little more than producing food, will house our humans, from which we will pull the Gifted and send them to do our bidding. And unlike droids that can barely manage to bring us drinks without crashing into the furniture, these slaves will be intelligent. They can learn. And they can, with a little time, live on any world we need them to. This is how the Empire spreads to every world in the galaxy. We send the humans to control the local populations, to police them, to discipline them, knowing that they will never rebel and that even if they did we would prevail. And we can stop sending our own precious sons and daughters to die on pitiful useless rocks like Korriban. They can stay home and enjoy the fruits of their Empire. They can have children of their own, and we can begin to replace what we have lost. We can begin to fill the empty cities and farms, with the one thing Soaf-Rushk's Star Forge cannot make for us, life."
At that, Zhed-Hai sat down. The assembled Elders sat in silence. Soaf-Rushk's avatar did not move at all, and Zhed-Hai flattered himself that perhaps he had rendered his decrepit rival genuinely speechless. It was clear anyway that Soaf-Rushk had not been prepared for what Zhed-Hai had said, that the possibility of a Gifted slave race had not entered his mind. It was a peculiar thing, Zhed-Hai thought to himself, that Soaf-Rushk would so consistently ignore the Gift. In his day the Elder had been far and away the most powerful Rakatan in the Empire. There were those who had claimed, absurdly, that he could have fought a Celestial by himself. But it had definitely been true that his Gift was far stronger than any other Rakatan's and his understanding of the power the Gift conferred was far more subtle as well. But for whatever reason the Elder had looked, these past few centuries, almost exclusively to machines. And despite the fact that he could not make his droids even as useful as the sad drones, born without the Gift, he kept tinkering away. His dream was a Star Forge that could pump out armies of droids-servants, droid-laborers, and droid-warriors. They would become the backbone of the Empire and he would control their supply. But now Zhed-Hai had a new potential backbone for the Empire, one with an ability no droid, however sophisticated, could match. And Soaf-Rushk knew it. He had many more important goals for which this meeting had been vital, but Zhed-Hai took the most pleasure in knowing that he had just crushed his rival's dreams forever.
"You seek to replace us?" growled Drisk-Koan, breaking the silence. "You wish these creatures to do our fighting for us?"
"I seek to replace them only in those roles we have all said, in the past, we do not want our young Rakatans filling. These humans will be cannon fodder. They can die at no cost. They will have no position of command; they will never operate independently. While I would leave such decisions to the judgment of those more knowledgeable in matters military than myself, I do not imagine they would even be capable of commanding each other. I would suspect it would turn out that every detachment of human warriors would require a Rakatan at its head. Perhaps the number of Rakatans in the military would shrink, though given the expansion to new worlds these slaves make possible, I think that perhaps even that is not true. They will not replace our warriors; they will serve them."
Drisk-Koan clearly was not mollified, but also just as clearly had nothing to say to this.
"They will be like the Kwa. They will be our version of the Kwa, yes?" said one of the governors.
"Well, I don't know, brother. I had not thought of it that way," Zhed-Hai said. "But I suppose that is a fair way of looking at things."
The other generals around the council table immediately began squabbling over the best uses of the humans. The details of their arguments were of far less concern to Zhed-Hai than the fact that this fighting was the clearest possible sign that they wanted them and would approve of them. Still Soaf-Rushk's hologram was silent. His own creatures on the Council had begun to talk to each other without his input. They would be worried about losing access to the humans now that it seemed clear that the military was interested in them.
"How long would it take you to start producing them at a high rate?" Kru-Garth asked. "This is always the downside of your creations brother; breeding is slower than building." Despite the criticism Zhed-Hai could tell the young general was extremely excited at the prospect of putting humans to use. He was far more strategically aggressive than his older rival Drisk-Koan, and was no doubt thinking of the systems that could be subdued. Zhed-Hai hoped his exuberance would not push Drisk-Koan into opposition. What one of them supported the other typically found a way to convince themselves to oppose. But since this was exactly the question this entire exercise had been designed to elicit, Zhed-Hai could not afford to temper his young colleague's enthusiasm.
"We have a stable population here on Lehon, but if the council decides they want humans in any significant numbers I will need to collect many more of them from Tatooine. The process of altering them does not itself take much time, but it takes time for the Gift to show up in them, and usually you have to wait for their offspring to get enough of the Gift in them to make it all worthwhile. In addition I would need permission to start transporting them to worlds that can support their growth. We are in luck, for their lifespans are short and they breed and grow to maturity correspondingly quickly."
"If we did approve expanding this project of yours, what would you need beyond what you already have?" asked one of Kru-Garth's allies.
"If we want to move quickly I would need access to far more ships than I do at present, as well as an easing of travel restrictions, including to locations outside the Empire. I have scouted many worlds that might serve as breeding planets, but my own resources have been insufficient to set anything up on most of them. Anyway, an expansion of the project on that scale required permission from the council. But, if you see fit to approve, I am ready to begin."
Many nodded in response, while a few sat quietly, not wanting to oppose an idea that had swiftly turned from scandal to opportunity. One of the Elders called for a vote, and suddenly it was done. A few minutes talking and now the plan was set in motion. Zhed-Hai tried to savor the moment, but he looked across the table to Soaf-Rushk, silently watching him and thought that while he had crushed his rival's dream that did not mean Soaf-Rushk could not still do the same to him.
Tytus had stood, comprehending nothing of what was going on for several minutes. But had tried to listen. That is what Myra told him he had to do, if he had any hope of understanding. To listen and to not think. Don't try to figure out what they are saying, she told him, just listen to what they are saying, and it will come to you. So he had listened, and listened, and the gibberish flowing from the Old Man's mouth had been just that, until the end of his speech that is. Then a word here and there began to click into place. He heard the alien rasping, but he understood the words. At least a few of them. The words 'slave', and 'breeding worlds' and 'They can die.'