Chapter Eleven: Maelstrom's Eyes

"Of all the figures in the Xim mythos, few excite more than Indrexu, warrior queen, mortal enemy and passionate lover to the great Despot. That she is so poorly documented only allows us to instill our own often contradictory ideas of femininity, pride, exoticism and romance onto her. Yet there is another reason, I believe, that she leaves us captivated. If even a fraction of the stories of her are true, they prove the mighty Xim was human after all."
Gorath Noles, A Review of Literature of the Outer Rim, 15th Ed. 345 BBY

At last, war had come to Ranroon. The space around its cool blue-and-white sphere was hot with explosions, burning thrusters, weaving missiles, trails of shrapnel criss-crossing and dispersing through the void. The Federation and Empire had brought everything they had to this fight.

If this was her last battle, Indrexu was determined to die right.

She'd has this scenario in her head for years, and as she sat aboard the Stormrider she watching its resolve into horrifying reality. The first Imperials to arrive from Kurooine ran right into the mines laid around the expected debarkation point (she would have placed more clouds of ionized shrapnel but there was no knowing when the enemy would arrive, and the clouds dispersed too quickly). The mines took out two star-glaives, a Livien cutter, and one penteconter. The rest of the Imperial fleet, numbering well over one hundred ships, began spreading wide over Ranroon. Indrexu's fleet, huddled relatively close to the planet, was waiting. Soon a dozen different engagements were sparking all around the cold blue sphere.

That was only the first stage.

Once the Imperials took positions, Indrexu transmitted the tactical data to starships waiting at adjacent encrypted jump beacons. It took a painfully long time for the messages to reach their targets, but the messages flew true. As the Imperial battle groups plunged toward Ranroon, new ships leaped in from behind and attacked.

At first it was stunningly effective. The Imperials were burning hard toward the planet, allowing Ranroon's gravity to draw them even faster. When missiles starting homing in on their afts they could barely slow down, let alone turn to face their attackers. The quickest ships to react (including Xim's Scimitar and Krenn's Falchion) cut all thrust and flipped their broadsides toward the onslaught. Less nimble ships (or less nimble commanders) fared worse. An entire cluster of star-glaives was wiped out in one attack; another penteconter was vaporized. The Stormrider's bridge broke out in cheers when two Ranroon frigates knocked out a polyreme's engines and sent it falling helplessly into the planet's lethal embrace.

But the Imperials hadn't conquered known space by being fools. They couldn't locate Indrexu's hidden jump beacons but they could calculate where the ambushes were coming from. Xim broke his formation and sent groups to each decant point.

That was inevitable too, so Indrexu initiated stage three.

It was two easy jumps from the Object to Ranroon. The great foundry had kept the Federation fighting for three years now, and Indrexu had insisted on keeping ships and weapons there in reserve. This was the last battle and there was no need for that anymore. Fresh-made gunships, shuttles, and pinnaces came out of hyperspace like a torrent.

They were easy for the Imperials to spot and intercept. Missiles vaporized many of the new arrivals before they had a chance to return fire, but more ships kept coming. Hardly any had crews. Most were operating as drones like the ones over Kurooine, and a few of these were loaded with ionized chaff. Most, however, were packed with explosives.

Drone brains were simple and sluggish, and incapable of pulling off complex maneuvers that were required to keep a ship alive in dense combat like this. Thankfully, they made excellent missiles. The first group of Imperial warships to intercept them was vaporized in a minute. The next group understood what was happened and tried to veer away, but couldn't avoid the suicide charge. The explosions were so bright it was like a halo over Ranroon's crown.

The other Imperials pulled away. Drone ships gave chase. They were less effective here but the faster ones still managed crippling collisions. An unmanned pinnace took out an entire polyreme while smaller impacts crippled a dreadnought and multiple penteconters. Once the Object finished emptying its belly over Ranroon, Xim's fleet had taken exceptional losses. Over twenty-five percent of his attack force was destroyed or damaged beyond use.

That was when Xim finally saw fit to call her, ship-to-ship. The transmission was delayed by two seconds and marred by static, but the anger in his voice was clear and beautiful.

"They call me ruthless," he growled, "They've clearly never fought you, Queen Indrexu."

"Those weren't manned ships, Xim. I don't send my people to their deaths just for a distraction."

"You're fighting to win, as am I."

"Are you calling to surrender, or is there another point to this conversation?"

"Maybe I wanted to learn if you have more surprises in store."

"If I did I'd never tell."

"Then perhaps I wanted to hear the sound of your voice."

What was he getting at? Was this a delaying tactic? "You're hearing it now. Is it what you imagined?"

"Better. Thank you for the contest, Majesty."

Then the transmission clicked off. Indrexu hadn't announced the call to the bridge but Miral was looking at her questioningly.

"Tell all ships to select targets," the queen said. "It's time for a full attack."

They were at stage four now. It was the last stage, the one Indrexu had hoped to avoid.

Stage four was a fight to the death.

Burning hard against Ranroon's pull, the Federation starships rushed to meet the invaders head-on.

-{}-

While battle closed around Ranroon a single shuttlecraft, barely big enough to carry a hyperdrive, flashed out of lightspeed and tumbled inbound. It was so minuscule none of the Imperials bothered to open fire. One little ship, they thought, wasn't worth a missile.

Ordinally, they'd have been correct.

This ship's cockpit was packed with the two Jedi strapped to their seats in the second row. Hedrix and Pres'carn, human and Saheelindeel, flew it with confidence. This was good, because Essan and Erakas had other things to do.

Sitting side by side, they reached out to clasp hands and minds. As they'd done on Idux they let thoughts and sensations flow between them, then outward. They felt the enormity of the battle around Ranroon: every mind, every speck of anger, fear, panic, elation, dread, hate, greed, defiance. They could even mark out Indrexu and Xim, the twin eyes around which the maelstrom churned.

It was like what Essan had experienced in her previous battle but so much more. Everything was deeper and more vivid. This mass of lives did not overwhelm her. Despite the chaos she could hold it all within her mind, understand it, even command it.

Yours the battle is, a presence told them.

It was so jarring it nearly broke their meld. Gedor had said he could join his power to their across so many stars, but it was stunning to experience it.

With you I am, he assured. My strength I will lend.

And he did. Essan and Erakas had been in-tune with the battle before. When Gedor joined his power they felt like puppet-masters able to pull every string, every ship and soul swarming above Ranroon.

Possible, all things are. Act and make them so.

The Jedi acted. To outward eyes they remained in their seats, eyes closed, motionless. In the Force they were spreading themselves across the vacuum to fill the fire-flecked nothing with purpose.

Essan touched the hearts of the Federation crew. She told them that their battle had not been in vain, that the lives of their fallen comrades were not wasted, that they would surmount impossible odds and win freedom for their world. Though few they were noble, and nobility would see them through to victory.

She believed it, and they believed it too.

The spirits of the Federation crews grew bright. Like their ships they surged against gravity's pull. Their weapons shot forth, guided by nimble hands and the touch of the Force. Warheads impacted, enemies flared and died, spirits rose higher, ships charged faster. All the Federation soldiers in all their ships, even Indrexu herself, were lifted by Essan in a wave of hope.

-{}-

Erakas touched the minds of Xim's minions and drowned them with despair.

It was so easy. He clung to the memory of what had once seemed sure and now was lost: Sohren's bright eyes and budding potential, the joyous trials he'd face as father and teacher, Reina's welcoming warmth.

With all of those so vivid in his mind, it was simple to transmit his pain to the Imperial crews. And his pain found resonance with their own, for almost all of them were mourning comrades or loved ones lost in Xim's endless wars. Duty compelled them to bury their spite but Erakas unearthed it. Resolve faltered beneath so much resurrected pain.

Erakas's suffering was in tune with theirs, but it did not move him to empathy. Instead he shoved them deeper into his bitter vortex.

The more vividly he conjured his memories the more agony he wreaked upon his enemy. The silly pitch of Sohren's giggle. Reina's languid, natural ease in zero-g. Master Sohr's reptilian but gentle eyes, framed by cobalt-blue. Small hands, tiny fingers, tiny feet, hot breath, bodies clasped and weightless, the alien face of his father and human eyes of his son, all lost. They were a well of pain he could draw on forever and draw he did, draw and draw and draw, and every bit of it was dumped into the Empire's heart.

Ships burned, spirits collapsed. Some even let themselves be overtaken and vaporized by Federation missiles. Erakas felt lives wink out and barely cared. There was little barrier between him and the enemy. They were joined in despair.

Only one mind defied him. Though increasingly frantic and angry it refused to be crushed. Only Xim could be so adamant as to defy the Force's command. Erakas concentrated and tried to break that spirit but the despot was adamant. It buckled, Erakas could feel it, but it refused to break.

All right this is, Gedor soothed him. Wonders you have worked today, my student.

And he was right, because against the Empire's collapse and the Federation's rise, Xim was only one man. And, for the first time in his decades of conquest, one man was not enough.

-{}-

Indrexu had no idea what was happening, but she was elated. The fierce, unified push from her fleets had not only stopped the onslaught but reversed it. Now Xim's mighty ships, from the thunderous Thanium polyremes to the formerly-fearless Argaian corsairs, had shattered formation and were running from the planet. Xim was good at traps but there was no way he could have arranged this collapse, so she ordered her ships to pursue targets of opportunity.

To the Stormrider's crew she gave a special command: Chase Xim.

The Scimitar held its ground even when its support ships began to turn away, and it only joined the retreat when the Stormrider drew near to firing range. The dreadnought was powerful but sluggish compared to Indrexu's man'o'war and she ordered her crew to give chase. If Xim caught up with the rest of his fleet he'd be too protected but here—at last, after so many battles and close calls—he was vulnerable.

She was seriously considering hailing the Scimitar to gloat when Comms announced another call.

"It's from a shuttle, Majesty. ID code… Seven-five-alpha-nine-gamma. They're requesting you personally."

"Lieutenant, this isn't the time—" She caught herself. She knew that code but in the heat of battle couldn't remember why. And then it clicked. "Lieutenant, put her on."

Then her ear buzzed with a voice she hadn't expected to hear again. "Majesty, this is Essan."

The queen was elated but there was no time to chat. She asked, "Was this you?"

"Yes."

"And your comrade, is he with you too?"

Again: "Yes."

The power of these magicians was terrifying. She understood why Xim hunted them and counted herself lucky they were on her side.

"You have my eternal gratitude," she said, "and we will talk more later. But please excuse me, I have a despot to kill." She immediately closed the link and barked, "Weapons! Can we lock on the Scimitar?"

"We've got his heat signal," the officer replied. "We're almost in missile range."

"He's pumping out lots of chaff and lasers, Majesty," Miral warned, "and he's got penteconters closing around him."

Penteconters and more. Indrexu looked at the tactical screen and saw a flock of Cronese harpices and battlebirds drawing close as well. The Imperials might have given up their attack but they hadn't given up their emperor. A damned shame.

When the Stormrider got in range, she let loose with everything she had. The explosive launch of so many missiles kicked back against their acceleration, slowing them down despite the blazing engines. She watched the volley approach Xim's ship breathlessly, and gasped when the first warhead slipped through his lasers and seemed to detonate on his aft.

But it was the only impact. Most missiles were caught by the chaff; two were distracted by the heat-flare of a passing battlebird and slammed into it instead, scoring a useless kill. The Imperials drew a protective circle around the Scimitar.

But her side hadn't given up either. Maybe Essan's magic was still working, or maybe her officers were keener than she'd dreamed, because a flock of Ranroon and Yutuski warships had converged around her. The battered Federation and Imperial battle groups faced off at the outer edge of Ranroon's debris-choked gravity well.

Xim could run, and he'd probably escape before Indrexu caught him, but it would take him a long time to regroup and he might not even get that chance; he had to be acutely aware that he'd ousted his own father after a failed offensive. And the Object would keep pumping out warships for Indrexu's side.

Scimitar and Stormrider stared each other down across the void until the former blared a hail. Though she was anxious, Indrexu made him wait almost a minute before she opened the channel.

She said, "I am ready to accept your surrender."

"I do not surrender." Xim's voice was rasping, angry.

"Then run, Xim. Run back to Desevro and plot your next campaign, if you have anyone left who'll fight for you."

"How did you do it?" he demanded. "Was it the old magic? Is the Red Witch with you?"

So he knew. "I defeated you today, Xim. No one else."

"That's a lie. You had help… and I am not defeated."

"You can't win either, not today. Run or flee. Those are your options."

"No," he said. "There's one more."

Warily she asked, "What?"

"I want to negotiate a truce."

"A cease-fire? To buy yourself time, you mean?"

"No, a permanent truce. And I want it negotiated in person."

"You're being absurd."

"You have my absolute word. I am willing to accept the independence of your world… so long as you sit down with me and bargain face-to-face."

Xim was good at traps, but she'd never heard of him pulling one like this. "I don't trust you," she said plainly.

"I trust you, Majesty, to ensure the long-term survival of Ranroon and the only way you can do that is by striking an accord. You know this. Even if I leave today, I will be back."

Was he that afraid of treason back home? Indrexu hesitated. "Give me one minute to consider my reply."

Without waiting she closed the link, then hailed Essan. As soon as the channel opened she said, "Xim is proposing we meet to discuss a truce. What is he planning?"

The witch was uncertain. "It's… difficult to peer into his mind."

"Tell me, where's the trap?"

Heartbeats pounded past. "We sense none, Majesty. As best as we can tell… Xim seems sincere."

Maybe he really did want to strike a truce; it would be better to bring one back to Desevro than an outright defeat. And she admitted truth in his words: assuming Xim survived this loss, he'd be back, and he'd come again and again until he claimed Ranroon.

A pact was the surest way to ensure the survival of her planet, and wasn't that her goal all along? She told herself that, but she felt deflated. This was not the pure triumph she'd hoped for.

Indrexu re-opened the link to the Scimitar. "Are you still there?"

"Of course."

"I accept your proposal, so long you're willing to meet me aboard the Stormrider."

"I am, as long as you're willing to bring your ship to the hole in my formation which is currently opening."

She looked at the screen and saw his front line shifting. A gap between penteconters was opening up, big enough for her man'o'war to enter, though as soon as she did she'd be surrounded.

"I'm not handing myself over to you," she said.

"I know. I will depart the Scimitar and take a shuttle into the clearing. If you fire on it, you'll be destroyed. If any of my ships fire on you, I'm sure your gunners will be able to vaporize me before dying themselves. Is this assured destruction mutual enough for you?"

"How will I know you're on the shuttle?"

"I'd be happy to hail you directly from it once I'm in position."

What in the devil was he playing at? Indrexu felt compelled to play along, just to learn the truth. And, she admitted, she wanted to look her enemy in the eye.

"Agreed," she said, "but I'm only bringing the Stormrider ahead once you're in the gap."

"Then I'll prepare my shuttle. And there's one more thing."

"What?"

"Bring the Red Witch with you."

-{}-

The Stormrider's crew had hastily prepared its mess hall for something historic. All tables except one were folded into the walls and banners with the Federation's crescent icon and Ranoon's leaping whale had been draped over food and drink dispensaries. What remained looked stark rather than august: one steel table a meter wide and four long standing in the center. There were no chairs. Indrexu was at the table's head, facing the door through which Xim would arrive.

Essan stood beside her, and though the queen's face was stoic her emotions boiled. With the Jedi's help she'd won a victory but she didn't know if she'd saved her world or doomed it. Essan tried to soothe her, but without Erakas and Gedor to help she still wasn't adept at working others' emotions. And, she supposed, Indrexu's anxiety might prove vital in the coming minutes. Mortal combat was over, but this was still a battle.

The mess hall's intercom buzzed, and Essan recognized the voice of Indrexu's captain of the guard. "Majesty," said Venta, "Xim's shuttle is coming in to dock."

"You're sure he's aboard?"

"He sent his comm signal."

Which was no guarantee. Indrexu looked to Essan and, under-standing, the Jedi reached out with the Force. After facing him twice she'd come to recognize Xim was a steady beacon of willpower.

That beacon was close. She gave the queen a nod.

"Permit him to dock," Indrexu said. "Escort him directly to me. His guards may come too, but only he is allowed into this chamber."

"Should we strip them of weapons?"

"Do it."

The intercom clicked off. Indrexu asked Essan, "You really sensed him, didn't you?"

"He has a strong presence."

"I see. And do I have a strong presence?"

She wasn't fishing for compliments. She was genuinely curious about the extent of Essan's powers. Curious, and also cautious. Essan felt Indrexu judging her, weighing whether she could one day become a threat. Essan didn't hold it against her; it was a fair question to ask.

"You do," Essan allowed. Indeed, the queen's presence was much like Xim's. It blazed from a hard core of ego and extended to all the people around her. It reveled in power, competition, even violence. Essan wasn't sure whether she liked Indrexu but that didn't matter. No one else could have held the Federation's battered remnant together and fought Xim to a standstill. She was the leader history needed.

Venta called again to say Xim was aboard and on his way. Minutes later, the mess hall entrance swung open. Standing in the threshold was an unremarkable-looking middle-aged man with short brown hair and a pale narrow face. But in the Force he was a nova.

He crossed into the hall with clean, quick steps, straight to the opposite end of the mess table. The door closed behind him, sealing the three of them in the room.

Xim stared at them and they stared at Xim, all silent. The moment seemed to last forever. Then Xim's lips twitched to a tiny smile.

"Queen Indrexu," he said, "I'm pleased to meet you at last."

Was it mockery? Essan couldn't tell.

Indrexu nodded. "Xim son of Xer, you will be safe aboard my ship for the duration of this parley."

"Very good." His eyes drifted over Essan slowly, taking in every ridge and curve of her scarlet face, the shape of the body beneath her brown tunic. He walked to one side, crossing closer, examining her from the side. Essan did not turn to face him.

"Incredible," he said, voice soft with awe. "You really are her… I've spent all my life looking for what remains of the old magic, and now you stand in front of me."

"Would you like proof?" She asked without looking at him. "A demonstration?"

"I just received one." His voice darkened. "And I've watched the recordings of you from Abraxin many, many times. I would have been there myself but I was waylaid. I've regretted that."

His probing gaze and the memory of torture raised a shudder. She still didn't meet his eye.

"What is your name?" he asked.

She waited for Indrexu to interject. When the queen did not, she said, "I am Essan."

"And where do you come from?"

"Very far away."

"What do your people call themselves?"

"My race is called Sith."

"Not your species. You magicians. They were at Abraxin too: a human, a beast with six limbs, a Tyrant with a glowing sword, all using the same powers."

"We call ourselves Jedi."

"Jedi," Xim repeated with reverence. "What does it mean?"

"You requested negotiations with me, did you not?" Indrexu said.

But Xim pressed Essan, "Where are the other Jedi?"

"Not here," she said, and it was true. Erakas had left the system to see the Object. Talyak and Shen were much further away.

To her surprise, Xim accepted that. He walked back to the opposite end of the table and resumed his place there. Distance did not make him less threatening.

Indrexu said, "You claimed you'd recognize the freedom of my world if we met face-to-face. State your demands."

"I'm not demanding anything. As I said, this is a negotiation, and I believe it can benefit us both. I am willing to recognize your rule over Ranroon. Further, I'm willing to grant your sovereignty over every world you've claimed since the fall of Yutusk. That includes Kurooine, where I currently hold some forty-five thousand of your troops captive."

Indrexu snorted. "I was wondering when you were going to get to that."

"I'm not using them as hostages, simply stating a fact. Many of your soldiers kept fighting even after your fleet left. It's to your credit how many are willing to die for you."

Indrexu wasn't distracted by flattery. "You offered to give up everything you'd gained over the past three months. What could I possibly give you in return that would justify that?"

"Three things." Xim help up one finger. "First: I want your Star Forge."

"Excuse me?"

"The means through which you've been pumping out new ships so fast you don't even have pilots to fly them. For years my strategists have been trying to figure out why the Federation's output far outstrips our estimates. They suggested you have a hidden planet tucked away where you've been building ships but that would require moving massive amounts of raw material and industrial equipment. We could never spot the supply lines.

"But I have studied the Tyrants intensely. I've collected and translated their texts from before the Liberation. I know they built massive objects they called Star Forges, which pulled raw material from the very hearts of suns to construct endless fleets for conquest. And I know the Tyrants kept one in the Tion, to keep us pesky humans down."

Xim's smile was tight. All this time he'd known more about the Object than they did; he might even be able to resurrect its full abilities. The thought terrified Essan. The Rakata had made the Object to mass-produce evil on a horrifying scale, and Xim might do the same.

Before Indrexu could find an answer, Essan snapped, "We'd destroy the Object rather than let you have it."

The queen added, "I am not handing over my world's best defense just so you can turn it against me."

Xim's smile didn't drop. "I wouldn't turn it against you. I need that Star Forge. The survival of humanity may depend on it."

"Of your Empire," Indrexu scoffed.

"Both." His smile became a scowl. "On the far side of known space, beyond what we call the Expansion zone, there is another empire just as great as mine, if not greater. These aliens have enslaved many races and would happily devour ours. I've exhausted my fleet and my coffers fighting you. If we're to stand against the Hutts, I need your Star Forge."

Was it true? Kroller had mentioned something happened past the Expansion region, and apparently Vaatus was swept up in it. For the first time, Essan's will began to falter.

But Indrexu was firm. "We'll never give you tools to wage another war, Xim. Perhaps you should try negotiating with these Hutts instead of conquering them. It's a novel idea but it can get results."

"I will negotiate but only from a position of strength. If talks fail, I must be ready for war. Which leads me to my second request."

"We are not giving you weapons," Essan warned.

"I wasn't going to ask for weapons, unless you count yourself as one."

Essan's mind refused to process what she'd heard. Indrexu said, "You are not taking her from me."

"I never intended to." He leaned forward and planted fists on the tabletop. Despite the distance his eyes bored into Essan. "What do you want, witch? You vanished for years, only to appear at Indrexu's side at the last months of a long and brutal war. What were you doing before you arrived to turn the tide?"

"It's… not simple," she said. "Jedi are not warriors."

"Yet you're quite talented at war. And killing my men."

"We are not soldiers. We ended the fight out there not with missiles or bombs but by convincing both sides to stop."

She realized she'd slipped by saying we but Xim ignored it. "You affected my men's minds and broke their will to fight. It was extraordinary and it's exactly the tool that can save us from the Hutts."

"So you can slaughter them instead?"

"You think I'm a wanton butcher. I am not. I've only done what was necessary to unify humanity, as we've not been since the time of the Tyrants."

"The only thing unifying us was the Tyrants," said Indrexu.

"Exactly!" Xim pounded the table. "For five hundred years we battled each other and only one man was strong enough to end the strife. Me."

"You ended it through conquest."

"And is there any other way? Tell me, is there?" He was looking at Indrexu now. "Be honest. You are a ruler of women and men. You know their hearts. Humans are beasts and rulers must be a whip to tame them."

"If you're a whip, what do you need me for?" asked Essan.

"A whip is not enough. Because you're right, both of you. Unification came at too high a price. Now I need to protect mankind from the Hutts and whatever other menaces are out there. You won't be destroying lives, witch, you'll be saving them."

It was an argument Essan wanted to believe, and she wished it had come from any other mouth than his. Squinting into his blazing self with the Force she saw a stunning honesty.

Indrexu said, "You claimed you wouldn't take her from me. Explain."

"Well, that is my third request, except this one is a demand. If you want to save your worlds, Indrexu, you must agree."

She repeated, "Explain."

"This witch—and I hope her allies—would be ours to share, just as we'd share the worlds of my empire."

"You can't mean..."

"I do." He stood straight, arms at his sides. A tiny pleading creak entered his voice. "You are a queen. I need you to be my empress."

Her jaw dropped. "That's absurd! After all my people you've killed, all the worlds you've taken, I could never be your… your wife." She had to spit out the last word.

"Alliances are often sealed with marriages," Xim said. "Let the unification of humanity be accomplished with the greatest marriage. Indrexu, you've been the most formidable enemy I have ever faced. It's been an honor to battle you. Now I require the honor of your hand."

"That's absurd," she repeated, but she did not turn to go. Her initial revulsion was already fading as she calculated the practicalities of the situation. Essan could see it on her face and feel it in the Force.

"It's not absurd," Xim insisted. "In fact, I'm being generous. Your worlds will remain yours to rule and yours alone, but your authority will stretch over all known space. From the gardens of Raxus to the seas of Ranroon, the towers of Desevro and the yards of Barancar, all of it will be yours."

"I've never wanted to be an empress."

"But you live to command. Don't deny it."

Indrexu stared at the table, into its smooth steel face and her futures. Essan she couldn't think of what to say. If Xim was honest in his offer—and she felt that he was—then it was better than Indrexu could have hoped for.

"I can be a patient man," Xim said, "but these are not normal circumstances. Indrexu, do you wish to end the war between your kingdom and my empire? That is what I'm offering."

She looked up at him. "What about your armies? Your fleets? Your war robots and your GenoHaradan police?"

"I will share all of them with you."

"As long as I share my Star Forge and my witch?"

"That's right." His eyes shifted to Essan. "I must have your agreement as well."

Xim was offering a way to end this war and perhaps, just perhaps, prevent another one. The Jedi in her revolted. This man had slaughtered millions and he craved the Rakata's power. Could he touch the Force, he would surely be a whirlwind of darkness. But despite everything, Xim was only a man.

Essan wavered, but Indrexu said, "I will not give you Essan and the Object."

Xim smiled tightly. "You seek leverage? Perhaps a weapon to turn against me if our partnership sours?"

"Yes. And because I don't trust you with their power."

Before Xim could make his choice, Essan said, "Let it be me." Both of them stared at her. She pressed, "We will not let you have the power of the Object. It's too great a weapon. I can lend my power to yours, but only if it's to prevent slaughter. I'll never aid you in conquest. Never."

She'd expected some cold-eyed, hard-voiced argument, but Xim simply nodded. "That is acceptable. And if the situation becomes dire, I hope you'll reconsider your boundaries."

If the situation did, she just might. But she would never tell Xim that. The three of them stared across the table; no one moved, no one spoke. No oaths had been sworn, no promises said, but they didn't have to be.

Eventually Xim said, "This is a turning point. Mankind will change because of what just happened here." His tone was truly pious.

But Indrexu remained skeptical. "Will there be a ceremony for this… historic event?"

"Naturally. A marriage, and a coronation."

"Will this be at your palace on Desevro? The original at Argai? Or one of your other ones?"

Xim smiled tolerantly. "You'll find I can be a generous husband. Queen Indrexu, I leave that choice entirely to you."

-{}-

After spending so long weighted by Kintan's literal and metaphorical gravity, it felt almost liberating to be loosed into zero-g. Almost, but not quite.

As they waited at the deep-space rendezvous point where they were supposed to meet Yabok, Vreshan, and the stolen Hutt felucca, Vaatus felt heavy claim him. After the theft of the courier—after killing a Weequay to do it, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest until he fell—Vaatus had felt like he was adrift within a dream. But now that he had nothing to do but wait, reality solidified around him. He no longer flowed anywhere; he just waited between the cold hard bulkheads of Morguk's ship.

It was a long wait, inexplicably long, and it started to worry him. But there was nothing he could do, not about the courier, not about anything. He drifted inside the drifting ship and reflected.

He'd killed so easily. Even now he couldn't summon regret for it. At the moment it had felt like striking back at Katorr's killers and gaining a speck of justice. In retrospect it still seemed necessary. If he'd not attacked that guard, both he and Yabok would be dead, the mission scuttled; possibly Morguk would be dead as well.

Had his father ever killed anyone? He didn't know. He knew for a fact the Jedi had killed. They probably didn't even count the number of Xim's troops they'd cut down on Abraxin, all those years ago. Essan, who'd decided to join Indrexu's battle, had probably killed more recently.

He ached to talk to her more than anyone. Essan could tell him what it felt like to kill and kill again, how she justified it and lived with it. He also wanted to ask her what she would do if she found the planet her race had come from. Her situation was different, of course, but she was still an exile, the only one of her kind in a region teeming with humans. She alone under-stood his solitude.

While he was endlessly pondering these things near the ship's rear engineering section, Morguk's mighty form drifted down the corridor toward him. The Kajain'sa pushed himself along the metal walls with surprising softness.

"Do you need something?" Vaatus asked, gesturing aft.

"Only you," Morguk said.

"Why? Has the courier shown up?"

"Not yet."

"What's taking them so long?"

"Yabok warned me he was going to bring the ship to engineers who will help analyze it. When we get his signal we'll know if he is coming to us, or if we're to come to him."

"You don't know where these engineers are?"

"Our operations rely on secrecy. Otherwise, the Hutts could force one to betray all."

Fair enough, but Vaatus still didn't like it. Irritably he asked, "Why did you come back here?"

"For you, as I said."

"But why me? I'm not… I'm not important."

"Every Nikto who is brave enough to fight our enslavers is important, and you are more important than most. You've lived among the stars that frighten the others."

"I'm just used to them."

"You know peoples, worlds, technologies the rest of us do not. You are invaluable, Vaatus."

"Is that why you had Vreshan recruit me?"

"Yes," he said plainly.

He could have asked about Katorr but didn't. It would invite pain and unpredictable emotions.

Yet Morguk said, "We sought your brother as well. He could have been a great ally."

Bile rose in Vaatus's throat. He looked away.

The warrior continued, "Loss drives us all. It is the great motivator. Vreshan lost a clan-mate to the Hutts. Einor's parents died for M'dweshuu. Pellak—"

"Who did you lose?"

He looked up. Morguk held his eyes. The huge, weightless warrior said, "My father was one of the highest priests in the Kajain'tor desert. Hundreds died beneath his knife. And if you recall, the priesthood was hereditary."

Hoarsely Vaatus asked, "Did you… were you..."

"I never shed blood for M'dweshuu. I fled the day before my ordination and became an outlaw." After a tiny pause he added, "Before running, I slew my father. His was the first life I ever took."

Vaatus had thought his own suffering was deep; he couldn't imagine what Morguk had lived with for decades. He felt he should say something, so he fell back on that empty platitude humans muttered to each other when no truth would do, the one he'd whispered to his brother's corpse.

"I'm sorry."

"I am not," Morguk said. "The old priests were correct in one thing. Nothing sanctifies like blood."

Vaatus had no response and Morguk had nothing more to add. Nimble despite his size, the warrior pushed off the wall and drifted away.

-{}-

Minister Rossu and President Gelistar weren't happy when Indrexu returned to Ranroon and told them of the deal she'd struck, but she'd hadn't expected them to be.

"This is completely outrageous. The people won't stand for it," Rossu insisted when they cornered her in the Whitewall Palace along with Admiral Minasc.

"The people will be relieved the war is over," Indrexu said. "As should you all."

"You cannot trust Xim," Rossu insisted. "If you want to know the level of perfidy he's capable of, ask the survivors from Santossa."

It was still unclear who had destroyed the station, but she chose not to remind him of that. "Essan assures me he is telling the truth, at least in this."

"Yes, your pocket witch," Gelistar said. "You still don't know she's not Xim's agent, and this isn't part of one long scheme."

"Without my 'pocket witch,' Ranroon would have been overrun or destroyed. You all owe her your lives."

"I know where my debts are," the president said darkly. "A shame she couldn't have helped us at Kurooine. Or Yutusk."

"Yes, it is. But she is here now, to help in ways only she can."

"And where is she, exactly?" asked Gelistar.

Indrexu said nothing. He shifted to Minasc, who was also silent.

"Keep your secrets then," the president said bitterly. "You say Xim's agreed to give you back Kurooine and the Torento, and pull out of all other contested systems. Has that happened yet?"

"Early reports confirm withdrawals," said Minasc. "He's also released the survivors from Kurooine."

"Pity there were so few of them. What I want to know is, when will Xim pull out of my world?"

This was going to be the worst part. Indrexu hated having to defend a deal she didn't like herself, but if she yielded the whole arrangement could collapse back into war, one Ranroon still had poor hopes of winning. A blaze of glory no longer appealed to her as it once had.

"I tried to negotiate, but Xim was insistent he retain Yutusk. He has, however, offered you the chance to return to your world and resume your old position."

"As Xim's puppet? Never. Yutusk is my world." Gelistar thumbed his chest. "I didn't march in with war robots and I didn't inherit it either. I was rightfully elected by its people."

Indrexu ignored the faint jab. "Your people have peace because of this deal. I promise, once I'm… partnered with Xim, I'll exert every pressure on Yutusk's behalf. And on yours."

"Yes, 'partnered.' And how equal a partnership do you think that will be? You own a dozen worlds, Xim was hundreds."

"He's agreed that I will share authority in his realm."

"And leave Ranroon to you. Why would he possibly agree to that?"

"Perhaps," Minasc suggested, "he has enemies in his own camp he needs help purging."

"He's said nothing about that, but I've considered the possibility," said Indrexu. "Political marriages aren't rare. A few Ranroon queens married Yutuski kings, back when you had kings. It's how our worlds became allies."

"That was different," Gelistar insisted. "That was an alliance between equals."

"After centuries of bad blood."

"It's still not equitable!" The president looked to Rossu for support. "Can you please explain to your queen that she's setting herself up for disaster?

"I think it's suspicious for the opposite reason." Rossu looked square at Indrexu. "Xim gains our handful of worlds, and your hand in marriage. What else? The Object?"

"I've already told you, I'm not handing the Object over to him."

Minasc warned, "Based on our maneuvers in the last battle, he may be able to deduce its location."

"I know. That's why I've instructed our engineers to find a way to move it if they can, in addition to producing more ships."

"It will take time to replenish what we've lost."

"I know, but there's still ten days until the ceremony." She couldn't call it a 'wedding.' "Even that will help."

"Which brings us back to my question," insisted Rossu. "If you're not giving Xim the Object, then what?"

"Perhaps he's under political pressure to end the war immediately," Minasc offered. "Look what happened when his father couldn't conquer the League."

"No. I can't believe that's all."

"Neither can I," Gelistar said, and both men fixed eyes on Indrexu.

She'd direly hoped to avoid this, but there seemed no choice. She said, "Essan will be lending Xim her talents in the future."

They nearly exploded. "That's madness!" Gelistar said. "You can't just give her away!"

Indrexu cocked a brow. "If she was Xim's agent, as you've suggested, wouldn't he command her anyway? And I am not 'giving' her away. We have agreed to make shared use of her abilities."

"And what does that mean?" Rossu's voice was arch. "You take her one week, Xim gets her the next?"

"We've… yet to work out details, Indrexu admitted. "Xim insists—and Essan believes him—that there is an alien empire on the opposite side of the known space. If things go poorly, there could be a greater war than anything we've even seen."

"Just when I thought this couldn't get any worse," moaned Gelistar. "Are you saying you've enlisted us for an apocalypse?"

"Essan will do anything to prevent that war. The best way to do that might be at Xim's side."

"And for that you give up Ranroon the same way you gave up Yutusk. Unbelievable." Gelistar shook his head in disgust. "If that's the fate you want, you're welcome to it."

He stormed for the door. Rossu was fast on his heels.

"President Gelistar! Minister Rossu!" She barked their names, commanding them to a halt. "I pledged us all to this deal because it is our best hope, not just for peace but for survival. I need you to understand that and support it."

Rossu scowled but gave a reluctant nod. Gelistar, though, fixed Indrexu with a look of pure spite. "You've let my world down. I cannot forget that."

"Will you accept it, for now?"

He swallowed. "You leave me no choice, do you?"

He turned and left. Rossu followed, avoiding her eyes. Minasc gave her queen a tiny affirming nod, then joined them. Her study became quiet. Indrexu, suddenly drained, wavered on her feet. Outside the frosted window snow was falling on Ranroon's jagged coast.

When the door clicked opened next, Venta stepped through. The captain said, "I could hear some of that from outside."

"They did not take it well," Indrexu said wearily.

"Will they… comply, Majesty?"

"Gelistar seems to think he has no choice." She crossed her arms. "Which is correct, because none of us do."

Venta frowned. "Is that really true? When we fought them back from Ranroon, I thought—we all thought—that we'd freed our world for a generation. Now it seems..."

She trailed off. Indrexu asked, "Do you believe I've sold us out?" Because she needed to know. Venta was her loyal guard, her cousin. Her opinion meant more than anyone's.

"I won't say that. And I know it's not easy for you. To have to marry that monster..." Venta shuddered. "Does Xim expect an heir?"

She cringed. "He hasn't mentioned one way or the other."

"Maybe what he did to his own father will make him think twice about having kids."

"I hope so."

The two women looked at the window, at the peaceful snow. Softly Venta said, "I wish there was some other way, Majesty."

"There isn't. And perhaps it should have happened sooner. Many more lives would have been saved."

The captain's expression hardened. "Better to die fighting than sell our souls to a despot."

But it simply wasn't true. Indrexu hoped Venta and many others would come to terms with the bargain. One day she might even accept it herself.

-{}-

Essan described being inside the Object, which its makers had called a Star Forge, as like being inside a great beast. The Object's staggering size alone made it apt—even the most minor corridor felt like a gigantic throat ready to swallow—but what really drove it home was the hunger he felt in the Force. This Forge was meant to consume, and if what Essan had said was true, it consumed the fire of a sun.

It seemed impossible. Erakas had never heard of the Rakata having such technology, but he'd never been an expert on their thankfully-extinct empire. Outrageous as it was, it explained the smoldering core from which the Object drew its power. It was building ships with the building-blocks of the cosmos.

Per Indrexu's request, all priority now was on finding a way to move the Object under its own power. Engineers had been trying to do that for decades but the task had acquired a new urgency. Erakas helped them as much as he could, and so did Pres'carn, Tam'pres, Hedrix and the others who'd come from Idux. He couldn't do much but Erakas would rather wrack his brain for knowledge of Rakatan tech than dwell on everything behind him.

All the while he could feel the Star Forge around him, pulsing in the Force. There was nothing in this Object that was alive, nor did it seem to have any sentient computer core, though he'd heard such things existed. How, then, was the Force imbued in this machine? He wished he could ask Gedor. His teacher hadn't reached out to him since the battle and Erakas had the irrational worry that some disaster had befallen Gedor, simply because it came to everyone in his life.

Well, not every last one. When Essan arrived he left the engineers to their task and hurried to the docking area at the outer edge of the Object. Given its mammoth size, Essan met him halfway, inside one of those cyclopean corridors.

"How's the queen?" he asked.

"She's still trying to grasp the situation."

"Just like the rest of us, then."

"Yes." She looked around the corridor. "Your thoughts?"

"Impressive. And terrifying. Do you feel it in the Force? It's like this… hunger."

"Now we know what it hungers for: the heart of a star. The scientists think it drifted here from an uninhabited system centuries ago. It probably used that sun to draw energy."

"And it turned that energy into a Rakatan war fleet. Tell me Xim won't get his hands on it."

"We'll see to that, together. Are they making progress?"

"I think so. What they really need is a Jedi who knows all about ancient Rakatan tech. Wasn't there a Master on Shikaakwa like that?"

She thought. "Master Kayn, I think, a Zabrak. I never knew him."

"Neither did I. But we could use him right now."

"They'll have to make do with us." Erakas nodded but said nothing more. Essan asked, "How are you doing, Erakas?"

He looked away. "It's better if I keep busy."

One day the distractions would run out and all of it would overwhelm him, but he needed to keep moving. It felt like he was trying to outrun an ever-rising flood. When it did catch up with him he'd drown.

Essan had her own experience with grief and self-blame. She might have offered words of solace, but instead asked, "Have you had any more contact with Gedor?"

"No. You?"

"No." A tiny pause. "Have you messaged Santossa?"

Even the name was painful. "I think… it's better if they stay away from this." Stay away from him.

Essan frowned. "You swore you weren't going to abandon them. What happened?"

"I want to keep them safe. This could be next in line of fire."

"Xim will not find this place, and even if he does, he'll want it intact. And I think, for now, he has other concerns."

Erakas tried to change the subject. "You mean his royal wedding?" It still seemed unbelievable. "I have to ask… What is Xim like?"

It was an aching question. That single syllable had reverber-ated through his life for the past six years but he had nothing solid to attach it to. All he really knew about the conquerer was his blazing determination in the Force.

"He was difficult to read," Essan admitted. "He was… hard. Fierce. I can't tell how much he cares about the people he rules or even what he really wants." She tilted her head. "But that is changing the subject."

"You can't blame me for trying. Do you really think I should bring Reina here?"

"I imagine Kroller will want to come too, but yes. Less for their sakes than for yours. You love Reina, don't you?"

"Yes," he said, "but I'm not sure if she still loves me."

"I'm certain she does."

"Get that from the Force, did you?"

"I know Reina and I know you. And I know you are better with each other than without."

He couldn't believe he was hearing this. "You used to tell me getting attached made me weak."

"I never said that."

"Fine, Gedor did. You just thought it. Well, you were right, weren't you? I hurt myself and her. And Sohren…" He shook his head. "I should just focus on this… this thing for now."

"You shouldn't," Essan said, tone firm but voice creaking. "I have… lost someone before, and I cut myself off from everything except the Force, because I thought that would be enough. It isn't."

Her grief cooled his anger. "Even if I sent to her, there's no guarantee she'd come."

"In that case, you'd be free to devote yourself to this place. And if she does, you can pick up the pieces."

Damn her logic. Erakas admitted that he did want to see Reina; he craved to stay with her, rejuvenate their love, and protect her from all that could hurt her. He even wanted to see Kroller again. Yet the memory of Sohren would always be there, an agony that lay inside every joy like a trap waiting to close.

He tried one last escape. "Do you think they'll let me send a message? They're trying to keep this place secure, after all."

"They won't like it, but they will. We're their miracle-workers, Erakas. I think they'd give us just about anything."

There was no brag in her voice. Rather, it was the same heavy, almost crushing responsibility Gedor spoke of. It weighed on Erakas too, and once he might have run from it into Reina's and Sohren's arms. Now he'd have to shoulder that weight without shrugging, to ache and suffer for it.

Because that, he'd painfully learned, was what the Force required of him.

-{}-

Inside the Gravity Scorned, Reina could almost pretend she was turning back time. She could go down the gantry, step through the hatch (for they were still docked at Santossa's groundside port) and grab hold of the ladder running through the standing ship's spine. She could clamber down to her cabin, where dangling straps around her bed hung ready to secure her sleep during long zero-g flights. If she went up she could go into the cockpit and lay in her old chair at the comm station. She could pretend she and her father were plying the stars all by themselves, like they had when she was little.

Erakas and Sohren were gone. Essan too. Even Vaatus had left them. She was irrationally certain he was never coming back either. How fast they'd all gone away. It like somebody had opened up a trapdoor and all her life—what she'd thought was her life—fell out from under her.

She wanted to fire up the Gravity, rocket away from Santossa, and spend an indeterminate future drifting among the stars, but her father insisted they stay here and help Malanzthaar. Help him with what, she couldn't understand. That man had lost everything too. One day Kroller would accept that and fly away from here. Until then Reina loitered in the silent cockpit, waiting for him.

She was laying back in her chair, head twisted to watch a leaden sky through the cockpit window, when the message came in. She didn't recognize the sender or location but when the screen flicked on, Erakas's face wrenched her heart.

Speaking directly at the camera, her husband said, "Reina, I hope you get this message. I want you to know that Essan and I are both all right. If you haven't heard, the battle at Ranroon ended in a truce. We used the Force to do that: me, Essan, and our teacher Gedor." He wasn't bragging, but he did sound relieved. Reina discovered she was too. "They still have to seal the deal. That means Indrexu's going to marry Xim. I know, nobody can believe it. Essan has to be there because Xim knows about her and requested it, but he doesn't know anything about me. I'm not even on Ranroon right now, I'm at a special location."

He leaned closer to the camera. "I'm patching in the ID key for a very special nav buoy chain. If you lock onto this signal, you and the Gravity can get here. Reina, I think you should come. There's so much we have to talk about, and..." He hesitated, looked away, then back again. "I need you, Reina. Please, follow the beacons to me. Xim doesn't know about this place. You'll be safe here. Bring your father too, and Vaatus if he's shown up."

Fat chance, thought Reina.

Erakas leaned away from the screen. "I love you, and I still want to be together. Come to me, please. And if you decide not to… that's your right, but please tell me if that's what you choose, just so I can know you're all right.

"I love," he repeated. "I hope I see you soon."

The recording winked off. Reina stared at her reflection in the black screen, trying to find feeling. She decided she wanted to be with Erakas again, to touch him and taste him and feel the strength of his arms so she could pretend the galaxy wasn't a merciless place. If they both tried hard they might even believe that lie. And it would be nice to believe.

Still watching her dim reflection, Reina turned on the comm and patched in a short-range call to her father, to tell him that the time had come to leave.

-{}-

Xer had been on edge ever since the visit by Thane and Vardoc, sleeping even worse than usual as he waited for them to liberate him from captivity. But instead he got Xim.

He tried to hide his disappointment as his son walked into the living room looking as confident as ever. His visitors had told him that the campaigns against Indrexu were struggling. If Xim was back it meant he'd either made his conquest or had failed and was good at covering it.

"Good morning, Father," Xim said easily. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

It was, in fact. Warm but not hot, humid but not damp. A good, bright, lazy day. Summer on Desevro, as he'd finally learned, was lovely.

"I've seen better and I've seen worse," Xer said. He didn't rise from his reclining chair, where he'd been reading an old book on military history.

Xim glanced at the pages. "Are you feeling nostalgic?"

"It happens to the best of us as we age." Xer closed the book in his lap. "Even you, I'd imagine."

"Not me," Xim shook his head. "I'm looking to the future."

Xer did his best playing-along voice. "And what future exactly? Tell me, have you bested that queen yet?"

"In one way yes. In another she's bested me."

He said it with a smile. A possibility occurred to Xer but it was too preposterous. "Don't keep me in suspense. It seems like you've come here to brag. Is she dead, locked up, or still lording over her world?"

"None of the above," Xim clasped hands behind his back, stood straight. "We've reached an accord."

He wouldn't look so happy about a peace treaty. But still, it seemed so ridiculous. "Out with it, boy."

"Indrexu has agreed to become my empress," Xim said with barely-concealed pride. "We will be wed in ten days in the Whitewall Palace of Ranroon."

"You're serious," Xer gaped.

"It will be both a wedding and coronation ceremony. Indrexu will be crowned Empress of Mankind, as befitting the ruler of all human worlds of known space."

"Aside from strays here and there," Xer said under his breath.

Xim ignored him. "I will also be receiving a new title."

"You'll be Emperor of Mankind now? It sounds like you've hit your limit." Xer said it with bitterness, but a part of him marveled. His son, the sullen taciturn incomprehensible child of his loins, had actually done the impossible. How strange it was to hate your son, but also be proud of him.

"Not just Emperor of Mankind," Xim corrected. "I will be claiming a new rank, one not used since before the Liberation. The title is 'Ruler of All,' or in the Tyrants' tongue, daritha." He seemed to savor each syllable.

"You're stealing Tyrants' titles now? Don't you think that will upset a few people?"

"My empire will resurrect the best of the Tyrants while doing away with their worst."

"And what does that mean?"

"The old magic, Father. I've found it and it will be mine."

They'd had conversations over the years about the Tyrants and the supposed powers they'd used to rule mankind. Xer was skeptical of anything he couldn't hold in his hand but Xim really believed the old tales. It occurred to him that his son might be mad, not triumphant. Or both.

Either way, he had a feeling Thane and Vardoc wouldn't be pleased with this new development. If Xim was taking Indrexu as an equal partner, their power was sure to wane. And they'd already come too far, collaborating with that rat Oziaf in their treason.

They'd not back down. They'd move, and before Xim sealed his union with Indrexu. Which meant Xer had to be ready for anything.

"Are you happy for me, Father?" asked Xim, "Or has some-thing else caught your attention?"

He roused a dry laugh. "Call me skeptical, boy. Conquering known space, resurrecting old magic, stealing the Tyrants' crown… I can see all that. But you, with a woman? Now that's crossing a line."

"You told me that war and women are what give life meaning. Have only one and you've only half a life."

He'd meant it, but he'd never thought Xim would take it to heart. With real curiosity he asked, "What do you feel for this woman?"

"I respect her more than any opponent I've faced. And that is what a woman should be, isn't it? A worthy foe in all things?"

He hated having words thrown back at him. This whole conversation neared the surreal but he knew, impossible as it was, that Xim meant every word. Was it his story about Thalis that had pushed the boy over the edge? Was he trying to seal Indrexu at his side so she'd never turn against him?

"Boy, you've given me all kinds of wonders to ponder. Frankly, I won't believe them until I see with my own eyes."

"That will not be a problem," Xim said.

He removed something from his breast pocket and tossed it into Xer's lap. It was a small white card the size of his hand. Printed on one side, in elegant cursive, the message read: Xer son of Xuc, you are cordially invited to the wedding of Xim son of Xer, Emperor, and Hylei Indrexu Cortess, Queen of Ranroon.

He stared at the card for a full minute, then asked, "Is this a joke?"

"It's exactly what it looks like. If you wish, you may attend my wedding."

"You'd… let me go?"

"If you wish."

He stared down at the card, baffled. "How many others are attending?"

"It's to be a large ceremony. All known space will witness the crowning of its monarchs, so it will be appropriately grand. Don't worry, I can provide better clothes for you. You'll see a few familiar faces, I expect, and many new ones."

Vardoc. Thane. They'd be there, almost certainly, unless Oziaf threw them into prison. Xer licked his lips and said, "I accept."

"I'm glad. I'm departing in seven days and you'll be coming with me. I'll make sure your transportation is comfortable."

In one week he'd go from being locked up in this cage to displayed for all mankind to see. Just thinking it gave Xer vertigo.

"And… what becomes of me once the ceremony is over?"

"We'll see. It may depend on your good behavior."

He wasn't in the mood for Xim's straight-faced taunts but he tolerated them, because he knew it would be for the last time, one way or the other.

"Don't worry about your old man," he said. "I know how to behave."

"No, you don't," Xim replied, "but that's all right. I have another request, one you don't have to decide on now. But consider over the next week."

"What do you want?"

"Someone will have to crown the rulers of all mankind. If you're willing, the role is yours."

Xer stared at his son's hard face and didn't understand. All these years, he'd endured what he'd thought to be his son's custom-made torment, born from a bottomless hate he only half-deserved. Now Xim was extending to him an honor.

Was this forgiveness? Reconciliation? The punch line to an absurd, life-spanning joke?

He realized it didn't matter. There would be a reckoning, and unwittingly his son had hastened it.

Xer responded with an honest lie. "I'll do it, son," he said. "It'll be my pleasure."