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"I'm very disappointed in you, Prefect." Sang Anor shook his head as he stared at the thick, black clouds that rose against the sky and turned noon to dusk. Though I don't know why, he mused, this kind of incompetence is about what I've come to expect from you.)
"The slaves who fought us aren't going to be a problem anymore." Ke'Nas crossed his arms and smiled, his ever-sneering face practically glowing with pride as a band of Nesz slowly walked by them. "I've scorched half this planet, and tsik vai are flying overhead. They fire on anything that moves." And Nom Anor hadn't come back yet.
Ke'Nas could barely hold back bubbles of laughter when he'd told Sang Anor. The Executor was concerned, but he wouldn't believe Nom Anor was dead until he saw the body himself. This was Ke'Nas, after all: if he was trying to do you harm then you could look forward to a long and happy life. It was only time to start worrying when the Prefect was trying to help you.
"You've made progress indeed," Sang Anor conceded. "A planet full of life that could have been shaped to serve us or used as nutrients for the coral field is now all but useless." Another group of Nesz trudged past where they stood, on the shores of a large lake that lay near the center of the Yuuzhan Vong settlement. Underground streams, regulated by Yuuzhan Vong servant- creatures, carried water to the growing projects and carried waste material away from the coral field.
The Prefect laughed a little. "What does it matter if this world lives or dies? You've already given the order to abandon it." True enough. Even now transports of yorrik coral were ferrying almost every Yuuzhan Vong on the planet and all fully shaped creatures up to the worldship while another stream of empty transports flew down to the surface to collect more.
Above them, the mottled red-black orb of the Long Reach hung like a midday moon.
Sang Anor glanced at a passing tsik vai. "I want those flyers recalled," he said, "those pilots will be needed in corralskippers." Another hundred slaves walked silently past, reptilian snouts drooping. "The Long Reach of Death and the desk hai are easily a match for the infidels' Star Destroyers, but their TIE fighters could prove a problem. Thrawn has hoards of the things and he knows how to use them." The small, fast fighters could harass larger ships and tire their dovin basals, creating weak points for the battleships to capitalize on.
"That's why you're having the shapers drop all other projects in favor of growing missiles and grutchin." Ke'Nas deduced, still wearing his idiotically pleased expression.
Sang Anor nodded. Missiles and grutchin were faster to shape than coralskippers and they needed no pilots. Guided by the yammosk, they would thin out the numbers of TIE fighters during the battle.
"I've all but emptied the worldship. Every warrior will have to fly a coralskipper, and the noncombatants, priests, shapers and the rest, are being sent out of the system. They've been instructed to disperse and hide themselves until the battle is over and it's safe to rejoin the Long Reach."
"And you're going to take on the entire infidel fleet?" Ke'Nas shook his head. "I've always thought you were mad, Executor." He watched the other Yuuzhan Vong carefully. "You're fighting Thrawn in the field he excels in: open warfare."
"Oh, I'm having a few tricks prepared for him." Sang Anor's eyes gleamed. "This system will be the Grand Admiral's last battlefield. We will have victory."
"But a costly one." The Prefect pressed. "Many of our warriors will perish. How do you expect to conquer the Unknown Regions if half or more of our number die right now?"
"The planets of this galaxy team with life, Ke'Nas. Life which can be shaped to serve us and fight for us." "Living weapons and warrior-slaves?" The Prefect chuckled. "Mindless tools are nothing without a Yuuzhan Vong to direct them."
"Most of the sentients in this galaxy are destined for slavery or sacrifice, yes, but there are exceptions." He glanced over his shoulder and motioned for the new arrival to approach.
Wearing vonduun shell armor and with an amphistaff curled round his arm, Wras looked and carried himself like a Yuuzhan Vong warrior. He snapped his fists against his shoulders and bowed his head to each of his superiors. "Belek tiu Executor, Prefect." Tattoos swirled around his blue face, and his eyes glowed with fanatical fire.
"Look at me, Wras." The glowing eyes met the Executor's. "Why do you exist?" Sang Anor queried.
"I live for the gods, I kill for the gods, I will die for the gods." The shaped Chiss answered.
"So you do. Give tribute to the gods, Wras." Without a second's hesitation, the Chiss made a fist and struck his nose, breaking it. Blood streamed down his chin and he prepared to hit himself once again. "Enough." Sang Anor reached out and brushed his claws along Wras' face, as he had done once before. The convert didn't flinch, even though the talons were a hair away from breaking the blue skin.
Sang Anor slowly circled Wras. "If one of the Imperial Chiss were here before us, someone you respected, someone who had flown as your wingmate and saved your life countless times, and it was necessary to sacrifice this one, what would you do?"
"With my own hands, Executor, I would bind the infidel into the Embrace of Pain."
"Look at him, Prefect." Sang Anor completed his circuit. "Less than a month with us and already as strong as a Yuuzhan Vong and as dedicated to the gods as one born into their service. I am so satisfied that he's now one of us I've arranged to have him adopted into Domain Rapuung." Wras started, almost imperceptibly, and a glow of pride lit in his eyes. "And I'm told we have a human who might be suitable for the shaping process."
He looked to Wras. "If we only find one like him among a thousand slaves, that still yields up hundreds of thousands on every inhabited planet we take. Our numbers will be replenished in a year," he turned back to Ke'Nas, "and by then there will be a functioning shipwomb in this galaxy to grow battleships en masse. In five years the Yuuzhan Vong will rule the Unknown Regions, the Chiss and the Ssi-Ruuk. In five more years I will be standing on Coruscant, supervising that world's cleansing." When the Supreme Overlord arrived, twenty years hence, Sang Anor would greet him with a (billion sacrifices, and the Overlord would name Sang Anor his heir on the spot.
He glanced at Ke'Nas and saw the Prefect was shaken. Good. He had sense enough to realize the indirect threat: Sang Anor had said 'I,' not 'we.' The Executor would be on Coruscant in ten years, but where would Ke'Nas be? Ke'Nas knew that war had just been declared.
The Prefect noticed his Executor watching him and looked away quickly, not meeting Sang Anor's eyes. He was bold enough to yap and nip at his superior's heels, but there would be no direct challenge: Ke'Nas knew who the alpha male of this pack was.
Sang Anor's authority was well-established by now, but Ke'Nas' acknowledgment wasn't going to save him: the Prefect had proved too treacherous, and incompetent besides. True, the Executor had found him valuable in helping test his son's mettle, but he no longer had any use for the Prefect and what Sang Anor couldn't use, he didn't keep.
The Executor experienced a rush of pleasure in the fact that he controlled the life, the death, the fate of another. Of all the things in creation, power was the most addictive.
It had been this way since he was a child and he began to understand the concept of power: gaining, keeping and controlling of it. Power was in the teacher who decided which of the creche children was worthy and which would be sacrificed, the priest who divined the future, the shaper who molded life to suit the needs of the Yuuzhan Vong, the warrior who dealt out death to enemies of the gods, but most of all power lay in being able to command all those persons and be obeyed.
For as long as he could remember, the idea of power had teased him, enticed him, danced before him seductively, suggestively, and yet it was elusive, always remaining just out of reach. He worked hard to climb the ranks, yet the reward's he'd received failed to satisfy him. The escalations and promotions he'd earned were mere tastes, the great feast remained out of reach.
Many Yuuzhan Vong who desired power concentrated on what cause they could apply it to. They held the notion of using their power to further the cause of the gods and their people. To Sang Anor, however, power was its own reward. In many ways this was an addiction, and like every addict Sang Anor came to need greater doses of his drug. He had to have more, and more, and more!
Ke'Nas was right: this was a kind of madness.
Yet even knowing this, Sang Anor was not dissuaded. He had sacrificed all that he loved for his ambitions: his wife had been taken from him and possibly even his son, yet this had only strengthened his resolve to see those ambitions fulfilled. After all, if he gave up or failed to achieve the goals he'd set for himself, well, then he really would have nothing.
"You've thought of everything," Ke'Nas murmured, "so how will the battle be waged?" More Nesz trudged past.
"I have a few things in mind." Sang Anor frowned. "A pity the fifth battleship being grown in the field will not be ready for the battle. Even if it is completed before the Empire arrives, there is still no time to train it." He shrugged. "But I believe I have a use for it, as well as for the handful of Yuuzhan Vong who will remain on this planet." The hundred Nesz did as the hundred dull- eyed slaved that had preceded them: they waded into the pool until they submerged, floated down to the bottom, then opened their jaws and breathed in the water.
When water filled their lungs, the Obeyers within each slave took over completely and propelled the corpses on a walk along the bottom, then a climb back up the side to shore. The dead muscles were still fresh and flexible enough for the Obeyers to use. They moved the bodied out of the water and collapsed them a few steps away, where a band of Nesz slaves waited.
They did as they had done with those that proceeded this group: they peeled back the scaly skin to extract the Obeyers, lumpish things that extended long trailers into the reptiles' nerves. The slaves were instructed to simply yank the Obeyers out, snapping the links like thread. The Obeyers could always grow new nerve cells. If the slaves had still been alive at this point, the removal of the implants would have killed them: their bodies were dependent on them by now.
They set the Obeyers of one slave aside, picked up its body and tossed it into a nearby trench where close to a thousand dead Nesz were piled.
This seed world had been a fine experiment, but useless now that it was compromised. The Yuuzhan Vong didn't have the time or resources to transport their slaves up to the worldship, and more could easily be taken on their next conquered planet, so Sang Anor had decided on simply eliminating them all. When all the other slaves were dead, those Nesz who took care of the bodies would be the last to enter the pool and die.
A small sacrifice, but anything that might persuade the gods to look with favor on him was worth trying.
Ke'Nas smacked his lips and wiped a film of sweat from his brow. "I'm parched," he looked around, "where is that slave?" He caught sight of an elderly Nesz coming toward them. Too frail for exerting itself in the coral fields, the Yuuzhan Vong used it those in similar conditions to fetch and carry light objects, like the serving platter with two goblets it now bore.
"That took long enough," the Prefect took one of the goblets and drank the chilled wine. "I applaud your decision to give up on these creatures, Executor. They make the weakest, laziest slaves I've ever known, and they're ridiculously stubborn in their resistance."
Sang Anor raised a brow as he inspected his own goblet. "Resist?" He spoke dryly. "With spears and bows against amphistaffs and plasma cannons?"
"The gods-cursed things act like feral grutchin." The Prefect said defensively. "They fight by setting traps and ambushes, and they know the swamps: they strike quickly and then melt into the grass and trees, even the water. The shapers who examined their bodies say they can hold their breath for hours, and there must be thousands of underground streams connecting these swamps."
The Prefect grimaced. "If that weren't bad enough, the ignorant things would rather die than be taken captive and shown the true path."
"The number of slaves taken alive has been negligible as of late." Sang Anor agreed.
"You would think they would show some of that energy and determination now that we've shown them their destined place in the universe." Ke'Nas shook his head in disgust at the slaves' ingratitude as another hundred walked past them to drown themselves. "We're well rid of them."
"Will it be difficult to replace them, Executor?" Wras asked.
"No, not that I really had a choice either way." The dead slaves stumbled out of the water and collapsed on the shore. A young slave turned one of the bodies over, dug its sharp claws under the skin that covered a growth and began to peel. "We don't have time to transport them to the worldship." He frowned at the wine and poured it on the ground between his feet, "I prefer to remain clearheaded on the eve of battle." He said as he walked to the pool, knelt and dipped the empty goblet under the water.
As he stood, he heard shouts of greeting. He, Wras and the Prefect turned their eyes to a trio of approaching Yuuzhan Vong. One was a sentry who had been posted near the edge of the field, to his right was a female, young and quite striking, and to his left-
"Executor," the sentry snapped fists to shoulders and bowed, "Belek tiu, these persons approached the edge of the field and asked for admittance-"
Sang Anor half-heard him, a sure of pure joy had overwhelmed him, so much so that he could barely keep his face impassive. All attention was focused on the sight of Nom Anor, scorched, scarred, nearly naked, but alive. Ke'Nas had gone red, then white. Sang Anor raised his goblet in a silent toast, then threw back his head and drained the water.
And the pit of the dead continued to fill.
***
It was midday, but when Vergere looked upwards she could only see darkness above the layers of water. The fires were still burning strong.
"Most of my men are accounted for," Stent was saying, "if your Nesz-ghosts can be believed, only three were lost in the fire."
"You can believe them," Vergere said softly, "how many injuries?"
"A lot of burns, but the natives are treating them. A few are sick from breathing in smoke. One pilot broke his arm, but he insists he can still fire a blaster with his good hand." There was mingled pride and amusement under the cool, controlled tone. "We can fight."
He gazed up at the dome of air that kept the water from crushing them. "Funny, I'm almost used to this place. It's not that different from the energy shields that keep vaccuum out of a fighter bay," he frowned, "the only difference being that I understand how an energy shield works." Stent leaned close to the Jedi and whispered, "how much longer can they keep this going?"
Vergere turned to face him. Lit by both his glowing eyes and by the many small, glowing orbs of air molecules that drifted around the dome, Stent's features were drawn tight. "Two days." The Fosh answered. "The Eternals are weakening as this world's native life dies, but they can hide us a little longer."
"Then what?" Stent demanded, but kept his voice low so the other Imperials wouldn't hear. "There's no cover on the surface, not anymore. We'll burn to death or get spotted and vaped by Vong fliers if we stray from here!" He snarled, anger entering his tone. "You and your lizard friends have led us into a pit of spikes!"
"You're alive." Vergere pointed out calmly. "Your men have a chance."
"A chance to do what?" Stent clenched his fists. "To wait until the air runs out or the water crushes us? And how can you just sit here?" He glanced around. "We need a plan!" And by his tone, the Chiss plainly expected her to have a course of action ready.
Vergere sighed, once again the weight of the world was set on her shoulders. Instead of frustration and anger, however, she experienced a pleasantly nostalgic feeling. It was as her Master had often said: "you'll find the most annoying part of being a Jedi is everyone expects you to solve all their problems."
How right you are, Thracia. She shook her head. "I need to consult the Force for guidance."
"I can't leave my men to rot while you daydream!" Stent raised his voice and took a step toward her, but a scaly hand on his arm stopped him. He looked down at Oin.
"Leave her alone." The young Nesz spoke in Basic.
"Don't presume to-"
"Will you put on such a shameful display in front of your men?" Oin hissed. "What kind of Chiss are you?"
Vergere smiled, Oin had certainly learned how to manipulate the Chiss. The flight commander remembered the pilots sitting or crouching nearby, watching him with curious human eyes and glowing Chiss gazes. Stent pulled himself together and allowed Oin to draw him away from Vergere, his boots squished on the muddy ground.
The Jedi turned her attention to the other inhabitants of the dome. It was a fairly small space, holding a mere dozen Imperials and Nesz. Those who had survived were hidden in many such domes in the swamps near the Yuuzhan Vong settlement, safe from detection by the aliens, but unable to stir for fear of revealing themselves.
The humans and Chiss were holding up well, despite the close quarters and strange circumstances. Stent had instructed them not to move or speak any more than was necessary to keep from using up the air too soon. Imperial discipline and the knowledge of shared danger held them in a perpetually watchful state. Their blasters were near at hand, though they probably wouldn't be much use underwater.
There was another reason for staying still: the water wasn't held back by any method they could understand, and subconsciously there was the fear that any sudden action by them could disrupt the delicate forces that kept them dry.
The glowing orbs floated around the dome, providing light for the fugitives and illuminating the fluid, mobile sculptures that shared the chamber with them. Twisting and turning, swelling and thinning, the art of the Eternals entranced them all. The light shimmered across their rippling surfaces.
Vergere closed her eyes and slowly floated out of her own body. She left a thread of energy connecting her spirit to her physical flesh as a lifeline and let the currents of the Force take her where she needed to be.
For a time, she experienced the disembodied existence of the Eternals. She sensed them as they spent their remaining strength to maintain underwater safehouses for the remaining Nesz. And she sensed the Nesz as well. The bright lights of Eternals wearing flesh and experiencing life for the thousandth time and the first time all at once.
There were so few of them left. A little more than five hundred natives remained on the entire planet, all of which were concentrated in the same general area. It really hit home how few Nesz remained, what the Yuuzhan Vong had cost them.
She sensed the Eternals as well. It would be hard not too: there were so many of them. She estimated around five thousand of them living in the Force and was shocked for a moment by the ratio of living to dead. Then she realized it was natural: with so many Nesz dying in such a short space of time, with the survivors having neither the time nor the inclination to birth infant bodies for the Eternals, of course there would be unprecedented numbers of Nesz in their disembodied form.
This also explained why the Eternals hadn't created these underwater hideaways earlier: there were few of the spirit-Nesz then, but after the Yuuzhan Vong had slaughtered them by the hundreds there were enough to combine their strength and hide the relatively few Nesz who still lived.
"Hello again, Vergere."
The Jedi turned to face the presence that took form in the Force. Not that she had a 'face' or a body to turn at the moment, but it translated into about the same thing.
"Dra." She wasn't sure whether or not to make small talk, as diplomacy suggested, or even where to start if she did. 'You're looking well,' didn't seem a very appropriate thing to say to a dead person.
"The others decided I should be the one to talk with you, because I so recently traveled with you and Oin."
"They made a good choice," and the mention of choices reminded Vergere of a question she meant to ask. "Dra, tell me, why did you choose Oin to succeed you?"
"It wasn't just me," the Eternal shook his head, his features shifting, "all the Eternals decided."
"Again, why?"
"For the same reason we chose him to accompany you offworld when last you were here and trusted him with our secret, for the qualities you've doubtless seen in him during your time together. In all his lives, 'Oin' has been the bravest, most intelligent, adaptable and loyal of Nesz, and among the Eternals he is counted as the wisest."
"I see," Vergere was taken aback for a moment, "thank you, I couldn't have asked for a better friend during all this. Now why did you call for me?"
"I need to show you something unusual," Dra answered, "come with me." The world shifted around them and they stood at the edge of a vast nothingness.
That is what it appeared to be, at least: a wide blank space that extended for as far as she could perceive: the things she 'saw' were all reflections in the Force, so the Yuuzhan Vong stronghold would not register.
"I don't see anything different." The Fosh Jedi said.
"Turn your attention upward." Dra advised.
The empty space extended only as high as the tallest Yuuzhan Vong building, which the Force outlined. Above that, nothing but sky.
And two chains of blank spaces, lifting and descending from the nothingness.
"You see?" Dra said. "This has been going on for half the day."
Vergere observed the large blanks as they lowered themselves to the surface while others took off and slowly flew upwards. "About the size of cargo transports." She said. "Sang Anor and the worldship must have returned, and the Yuuzhan Vong are either moving things down to the surface or up to the Long Reach."
"Is there any way to find out which, or why?"
"Not like this." Vergere shook her head. "You would need to send another spy in to scout them out, like Oin did."
"It wouldn't work," Dra shook his insubstantial 'head,' "the Yuuzhan Vong have been on their guard since we began fighting back. Sentries are everywhere."
"Then-" Vergere paused, "what's that?" She saw something, a small, fading speck of light near the center of the emptiness.
"I can't tell." Dra frowned. "It's too faint."
Vergere reached out over the field nothing to the point of light, made contact and drew herself into the luminescence, and found herself looking through the eyes of a Nesz.
***
She was a slave, one of many hundreds gathered under the shadows of coral buildings. Piggybacking on the Nesz's subconscious, she opened the slave's recent memory and saw how the boxy Yuuzhan Vong transports were landing to be loaded up with villips, dovin basals, razorbugs and everything else that had been grown on the coral field, then the transports would close and lift off.
The Yuuzhan Vong are abandoning this planet! She realized. But why? Unless Thrawn is finally making a move in this direction. Fear rippled through her. Was her vision finally coming to pass? A dead planet, nothing left of the Nesz...
No, I can stop it. I have to!
Somehow.
She realized suddenly that her host was moving. Along with about a hundred others, she left the main group and walked slowly to some unknown goal. She tried to make contact with the Nesz mind she inhabited, but received no response. The slave's will was too beaten down, and in truth there was little she could talk with: the slaves were all implanted with Obeyers, and like all Yuuzhan Vong servants these control-creatures didn't exist in the Force. Worse, as their power spread through the slaves' bodies, the victims' natural affinity with the Force was destroyed, thus rendering them as blank as Yuuzhan Vong creatures.
With Nesz, though, it was far worse: earlier, Dra had explained that Obeyers destroyed the Eternal within a captured Nesz, condemning it to true and final death. This one had been a recent implant, so she still retained a small part of what went on after dying. Soon, however, even that would fade and the slave would simply be an organic machine, moving and breathing but soulless, governed by no will other than the Obeyers themselves.
This was the reason she couldn't touch any of the other Nesz, nor would their free brothers and sisters feel when these ones were hurt or killed: they were already dead in every way that mattered.
The slave herself wasn't even away of Vergere, but the Jedi sensed something within her: a strange, desperate hope, though the Fosh didn't know the reason.
The group of one hundred was passing a tall spire of coral that cast it's shadow across them when she heard Sang Anor's voice.
She tried to turn the slave's head, but the Eternal she was connected with just didn't have the strength: it was the Obeyers that governed this body, and they had no such orders from their Yuuzhan Vong masters.
"-expect a response from Thrawn soon." There was no doubt about it: even after three years she remembered his voice clearly. If she were in her own flesh she would shudder. "A most violent response, so we must hurry. I need everything remotely useful transferred to the worldship before the sun sets." There, out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed two figures as she passed.
"That will be difficult, but it can be managed." She recognized the other voice as well. So Nom Anor had survived the fires. "When do you think the attack will come?"
"The moment Thrawn can assemble all his forces. I estimate two days at most."
"Are you going to position the worldship near the hyperspace entrance points? We could destroy the Imperials as they enter the system."
"No, it wouldn't work. Thrawn will send in a few advance scouts to look for a trap before jumping his fleet in. I mean to destroy him and all his strength, not just a few ships. The preparations for the battle are nearly complete."
"So the fight will be on our chosen battleground." Nom Anor said. Vergere strained her hearing as the slow-moving slaves shuffled past. "Where will it be?"
"The skies above our seed world."
"So you'll defend this planet?"
"On the contrary, I plan to let the infidels approach without a fight. Then the worldship will engage them."
"There will be many capital ships, will the worldship and desk hai together be enough to destroy them all?"
"With the help of my two surprises, they will." Sang Anor was pacing now, as he usually did when expounding on some grand idea. He walked into her field of vision and she saw him clearly.
Three years hadn't changed him much, but the stress of leadership had aged him somewhat: there were a few more lines around his eyes, strands of silver in his black hair, but he still moved with the strength and deadly grace of a Yuuzhan Vong. He turned and those cold, terrible eyes found her slave. For a moment she feared he would see past the Nesz and truly perceive her, but the icy gaze passed over her as he spun to face his son.
"One surprise waits above us, the other is right here." He pointed to the source of the tall shadow: the coral spire that dominated the Yuuzhan Vong settlement. "The focusing tower. As it reached out to crush the first strike force that attacked the seed world, so it will be with the Imperial fleet. In the midst of battle Thrawn's Star Destroyers will begin collapsing around him for no reason he can comprehend. His commanders will panic and the fight will be ours."
She would hear more, but the party of Nesz had moved beyond hearing range. Now the hope beating in the slave's breast flared up and she bent what remained of her will on hurrying her pace. Wherever she was commanded to go, this slave wanted desperately to be there. Since the slave was hastening to obey her instructions, the Obeyers permitted her to increase the pace of her footsteps. While the other slaves went to their destination with neither eagerness nor reluctance, this slave was all but rushing to meet her fate.
But why... then Vergere saw. And understood.
She saw the ranks of Nesz vanishing into the water, saw the pit of the dead. How many lay there? Two thousand? Three?
Of course, Sang Anor was abandoning his seed world so he no longer had a use for the native slaves. He was killing them all.
And this slave wanted to die.
Of course she did: she still had part of an Eternal in her. If she died before that energy faded, she would be released into the Force to join the other Eternals.
Then the Nesz was stepping into the water, up to her knees, her neck, then it covered her face. She hurried to the bottom, where her dissipating mind knew underground streams refreshed the pond.
Vergere felt raw terror then. She had been here too long! She tried to pull away from the slave's mind, but before she could, the Nesz inhaled water.
Her lungs, Vergere's lungs, flooded. Her chest was exploding with the pressure, reflexively, the slave's body tried to expel the water, but there was just too much. She, they, couldn't breathe! Couldn't breathe!
Under the bubble-dome, Nesz gathered around Vergere's writhing form.
Even as the reptilian body began to float up to the surface, she finally succeeded in pulling away from the dying Nesz. She floated away, beyond the blankness and into the Force, then-
"Free!" A thought-voice full of joy followed her. She turned and saw the spirit-shape of the Eternal, once a slave, flew into the Force. Weakened from her time with the Yuuzhan Vong, she gathered life energy to replenish herself as she spun and danced through the currents. "I'm free!" she vanished, to join the other Eternals.
Vergere followed her own lifeline, and opened her eyes to see Oin and Stent standing over her. She spoke.
"I know what to do."
***
"Attack?" Stent sputtered. "We'd be slaughtered!"
"It doesn't seem a wise move." Oin pronounced with more calm.
"The Yuuzhan Vong are abandoning this planet," Vergere pressed, "and a great battle will soon take place overhead between the Imperials and the Yuuzhan Vong. It is important that Thrawn's forces win that battle." She turned to Stent. "If the extragalactics aren't stopped here, they will eventually conquer the Unknown Regions, then possibly even the rest of the galaxy.
She looked to Oin. "And believe me, if Sang Anor is victorious he will not simply take his forces and leave. He will want to completely eradicate his presence on your world, and if that means destroying all life that exists here, he will do so." She folded her hands. "This is your chance to expel the invaders from this planet for good."
"A convincing argument." Oin allowed.
"How many Nesz will join in the fight?" She asked.
Oin bowed his head. For a long moment he said nothing.
"Oin," she repeated, "I realize there are few Nesz you can spare, but-"
The Nesz raised his head. "All of them."
Vergere blinked. "What?"
"All of them. Every Nesz on the planet will join you." He faced Vergere, and the Jedi flinched away from what she sensed from him.
"But the elderly, the children-"
"There aren't any left." Oin didn't look away. "The sick, the weak, the injured, the ones who couldn't run fast enough or fight hard enough died a long time ago." And nothing was left but the durasteel-hard core of the Nesz race. "What is your plan?"
"We wait for the right moment, when the battle is joined high above, then we strike. There is a focusing tower, a spire of coral, near the center of the alien stronghold, Sang Anor plans to draw the Imperial into battle near this world to bring them within the tower's reach, where it will inflict heavy losses on Unity Fleet. We can turn this trap against him, however."
"But we have less than a hundred blasters," Stent pointed out, "all pistols and many that are underpowered. We can't take on hundreds of Yuuzhan Vong like this."
"The base will be all but deserted during the fight." Vergere countered. "Sang Anor will need every able-bodied warrior to fly a coralskipper."
"What of the natural defenses?" Oin said. "The Yuuzhan Vong have established restraining fields around the perimeter with their dovin basals, and there are many hidden traps, living traps, that neither you nor we can sense."
"I've thought of a way to bypass all that." Vergere stroked her feathers in thought. "And once we're past the defenses, the tower should be easily taken."
"So that's your plan." Stent nodded. "We take this weapon away from them."
"No." Vergere shook her head. "That is merely the first part. Afterwards it really gets difficult..." She shook her head. "But there's no point to counting your fledglings before your eggs hatch. Now, we go over the first stage in detail." She looked sharply at Stent. "And if we get through this alive, remember the Nesz to Thrawn. I want him to know their part in his victory."
"I give you my word." Stent said, then they began to go over the Jedi's strategy. Some parts of the plan sounded like the purest insanity, and the Jedi had to summon an Eternal to assure Stent that, yes, these things could indeed be done. The drifting, insubstantial phantom who floated among the twisting water- sculptures seemed to erase all doubts.
But the Eternals were meanwhile communicating certain other plans directly into Oin's mind, without the Jedi being aware of the fact.
"May the Force be with us." Oin whispered.
***
"A good plan," Nom Anor was nodding, "you've thought of almost everything."
"'Almost?'" Sang Anor raised a brow.
"The Jedi." Nom Anor hissed. "She is still out there."
"Prefect Ke'Nas assured me she could not have survived the Night of Fire's bombardment." Sang Anor mused. For once he was inclined to agree with him: he'd seen the scorched wastelands surrounding the settlement. Even Jedi were still flesh and blood.
"I survived." His son pointed out.
"You had a place to go." Sang Anor said. "Right here. The Jedi has no shelter: there is nothing for hundred of miles but rivers, ponds and lakes. Where could she hide?"
"That, I don't know." Nom Anor's eyes gleamed. "But she has done the impossible before. She has shown up when and where she was not wanted before. She has ruined our plans before." He slowly circled his father. "What if she interferes? We both know the damage she can do." He was walking behind the Executor now.
"And your suggestion?" Sang Anor spoke lightly.
"Let me remain here." Nom Anor stood at his father's left shoulder now, his voice low and intense. "You sent me here for her, I have hunted her with little success, but now I will make the Jedi come to me. When she strikes, I will be waiting." He leaned close to whisper in Sang Anor's ear. "I can still get her for you, Father."
The Executor slowly turned his head and met his son's gaze. His eyes were so like his mother's when she'd found a project that excited her. "So be it."
Nom Anor snapped his fists against his shoulders. "I won't fail you again."
"What will you need?"
"A few Yuuzhan Vong, little more than a garrison force, some of our creature-servants," he paused a moment, "and subaltern Ceis Grasm."
Sang Anor smiled a little. "You mean the female you returned with."
"She has been a great help." Nom Anor said quickly.
"But Domain Grasm and Domain Nas have long been allies." Sang Anor said playfully. "This was why she was left here when I took the worldship out of this system the first time." He glanced back to the focus tower, where Ke'Nas and Ceis Grasm were having a conversation of their own. Well, not exactly a conversation: the Prefect was firing angry questions at her in a low voice. He tried to remain outwardly calm, but Sang Anor could tell he was enraged. Could barely stop himself from shouting and jumping up and down in fact. Then, the subaltern abruptly spun and began striding away, leaving the Prefect with his mouth hanging open.
"That is hardly her fault." Nom Anor was saying. "And I believe she has come to recognize the...ah...virtues, of Domain Anor." He colored a little.
"Ahh," Sang Anor nodded his head slowly. "By the way, when you arrived, before fresh clothing was found for you, I noticed that you have a few fresh scars."
"The slaves are very fierce, father." Nom Anor bowed his head.
"I'm certain they are," Sang Anor kept a straight face, barely, "but those did not look like battle scars to me. They seemed instead the sort of markings one acquires in...other pursuits."
"I...ah," Nom Anor stammered.
"Enough." Sang Anor chuckled and clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. He glanced at Ceis Grasm's retreating figure, then back at Nom Anor. "Go on. I was young once, though it may be hard for you to believe. I understand these things." He jerked his head in the subaltern's direction.
"Yes Executor, thank you Executor," he stepped away, bobbing his head quickly, then he was running after her.
Sang Anor shook his head and chuckled as he walked toward the focusing tower.
***
Looking out the transparasteel viewport in the conference room, Captain Voss Parck saw all the might of the Empire assembled.
Not literally, of course, but the majority of Unity Fleet had gathered here. A hundred Star Destroyers, almost twice that number of smaller battleships and strike cruisers, and wings of TIE fighter swarming among them. He even saw the Admonitor, whole and ready for revenge.
Even knowing what the enemy they would soon face was capable of, he still felt an almost electric thrill of energy zap through his veins on seeing the power Thrawn commanded openly displayed.
Reluctantly, he turned from the view. Nine holographic representations of the commanders were gathered around the table. Thrawn stood on the central holopad, with Raine and Beyin near at hand. Parck took his place at their side.
"Gentlemen," the Grand Admiral began, "in one day we make our initial jump into the Sevac system. I trust by now you have all reviewed the pertinent information regarding the enemy and have passed the tactics we've devised to your crews and fighter pilots."
"We're drilling them, sir." A Chiss captain said. Like the rest of the alien Imperials, there was a grim cast to his features. Parck had seen them walking the corridors of the Imperator, silent, eyes staring straight ahead, as if fixed on some goal only they could see. They no longer held the familiar, haughty air about them that Parck had come to associate with Chiss. Now they exhaled a quiet menace that warned one not to get too close to them. The human crewers avoided the aliens as they would a pack of Noghri under a blood-oath.
"The target system." Thrawn activated a console set into the head of the table. As usual, the Grand Admiral was calm and collected, the voice of reason and the strong, guiding hand, even though Parck knew he was as furious as any of his Chiss followers.
A three-dimensional holographic map of the Sevac system appeared floating over the table complete with planetary bodies, the asteroid belt and hyperspace entry points.
"This map is in broad strokes," Thrawn went on, "there has never been a detailed survey of the Sevac system, but the general reports are accurate. From them, I was able to piece this chart together. We are dealing with a system of eleven planets, all undeveloped, at least by means we are familiar with." He added. "Only one of these worlds, and two moons, are habitable, but we will need to check all of them. The Yuuzhan Vong have held that system for a long time.
"The fleet will enter here, after the initial scouting." A pinpoint of red appeared on the rim of the star system, marking the position of the entire fleet. Parck set his mouth in a grim line: even with three hundred ships, this was still a lot of space to cover.
"The primary objective is the Yuuzhan Vong worldship, a vessel comparable to the Death Star in scale. I expect we will have no trouble locating it: the enemy challenged me himself. He desires a decisive battle and thinks to destroy our ships, but we can use this to our advantage. Sang Anor has been forced to bait his trap with himself and his worldship, giving us our best opportunity to end the Yuuzhan Vong threat.
"The fleet will be divided into ten attack groups, each one composed of ten Star Destroyers and twice that number of smaller vessels. This will provide flexibility for the fleet, but overall coordination is an important factor as well. The Imperator will lead the primary group, where I will issue directions to you."
Parck and the other nine commanders listened carefully.
"Once we jump insystem we will locate the worldship, but we must approach and engage with caution. We will need to make certain no enemies will be waiting to flank us from behind." He deactivated the hologram turned his eyes to the three Chiss commanders.
"One final point for your Chiss crewers." And now the calm, businesslike voice became something else, something that froze Parck's blood. "Remember what Sang Anor has done to Homeworld. Hold that rage in your heart and draw strength from it, but that hate must serve you, not the other way around. The Yuuzhan Vong will be victorious if you or any of the Chiss crewers under your command allow rage to cloud your judgement. You are still Chiss, and will comport yourselves as such."
The commanders saluted and their holograms dissolved. Thrawn turned to face Raine. "I suspect you wish to know how my phalanx will be deployed."
"Correct, Syndic." The commander shifted her glowing eyes to Thrawn. Her tone, like the Admiral's, was one of calm and level.
"I believe attempting to mix Chiss and Imperial ships at this early point would not be a wise move. The phalanx will act as its own strike group, independent from Unity Fleet and under your command. However, I am assigning General Beyin to the Sentinel in an advisory position."
The commander narrowed her eyes slightly. For a moment, Parck thought she would object, and object strongly. He had reckoned, however, without the discipline drilled into the Chiss military, which dictated that a phalanx commander would always defer to a Syndic, at least in public.
"Yes, Syndic, but I very much doubt that an...advisor...is necessary."
"Nevertheless, the General will accompany you back to the Sentinel. You and my phalanx are both highly capable, but you are quite unused to large-scale battles and offensive combat. I understand you have been running several simulations which deal with this sort of war for some time now, and have been training the phalanx in those simulations," Parck saw her start a little on hearing that, "but Beyin has hard-earned experienced in fighting outside of Chiss space." He glanced at the General, "he will defer to your decisions, but you will heed his advice. Is this understood?" His tone clearly marked this as a deal-breaker: she would agree or the phalanx would have no part in the assault, no chance for revenge for Homeworld.
"I understand, lord." She cut her eyes to Beyin. "General, a berth will await you on the Sentinel." The elder Chiss merely nodded. "I have one other matter to discuss with you, Syndic. Since it has been announced that you now have a phalanx again, I have been flooded with requests for enlistment from every Imperial Chiss in Unity Fleet."
"Understandable, Commander." Thrawn paced slowly around the table. "These men have abandoned their homes and Houses to serve with the Empire. It is only natural they would welcome an opportunity to become part of a legitimate House once more."
"Your House." Only the slightest of inflections on the first word.
"What other House do they have?" Thrawn merely shrugged. "It will give them a chance to reclaim their identities as Chiss."
"Lord, a number of," she stopped herself from saying 'savages,' "humans wish to join the phalanx as well."
"Really." The Grand Admiral remarked in an offhand manner. "An interesting turn of events. I must look closer into this when I have time. Thank you very much, Commander. You are dismissed."
Parck had thought the female Chiss was angered before, but by the flash of her glowing eyes it was nothing to the fury she felt now. "Yes, Syndic." She turned on her heel and strode out the door. The captain didn't know exactly what had happened just now, but he sensed important matters swimming just under the placid surface of that conversation.
"There are things I must see to as well, Admiral." Parck ventured.
"Of course, Captain. Dismissed."
Parck gladly took his leave. He had no desire to become involved in Chiss politics: he had enough problems organizing the Imperator and the other ships that made up his strike force.
Of course, Thrawn not only had his own problems to deal with, but those of the entire fleet as well. The captain's own troubles were minuscule by comparison, so he resolved to handle them as effectively as possible and look for more problems to correct besides.
Thrawn's ability to inspire this kind of devotion in his underlings was one of his greatest weapons.
***
"Syndic, I believe you're making a mistake." Was the first thing out of Beyin's mouth after Parck had left the General and Admiral alone.
"Concerning what, Beyin?" Thrawn completed his circuit round the table and pulled out a chair, but did not sit down.
"In leaving that female in command of your phalanx." Now that they were alone, custom allowed some show of emotion, so the General put force behind his words.
"You have a problem with Commander Raine?" Thrawn drummed his fingers against the back of the chair.
"Not a personal problem, sir, but it is scientific fact that females are incapable of quick, logical thinking during times of great stress, exactly when a commander most needs his wits about him."
Thrawn turned a sharp glance on Beyin. "General that is not 'science,' but the fruits of superstition and ignorance."
"Revisionist nonsense." The General responded. "The female body is at the mercy of glands, hormones and chemical imbalances that render them mentally and physically unfit for military service."
"Ah," Thrawn sat down and regarded Beyin, "tell me, General, does your wife share these views?" He asked casually. "Perhaps I should bring them up when next she and I meet, if the Families will that we win today, of course."
Beyin's eyes widened, and though Chiss couldn't turn pale, the shade of his skin did turn rather sickly. "Well, eh, my Mejas is merely the exception that proves the rule." He said quickly. "But I still would never place a female in a command position, especially one in the throws of grief."
Thrawn stiffened, ever so slightly. "Grief, General? What do you mean by 'grief'?"
"I recognize the look, sir. I've seen it many times in the past, every time I delivered my condolences to the widow of a soldier who died in combat. Mark me, Commander Raine lost someone during the attack on Homeworld, and she will be blinded by emotion when we battle the Yuuzhan Vong."
Thrawn decided then and there not to mention Raine's relationship with Vraet. Beyin would only call her ability into question, and Thrawn's judgement.
"General, I said before that Raine had been preparing the phalanx, when it had been Vraet's phalanx," his hand trembled slightly on the armrest, but he stilled in a moment, "for warfare on a grand scale. Do you know why?"
"No sir, I do not."
"She was preparing to fight Unity Fleet, Beyin. To fight us, and she was convincing Vraet to press the rest of the Syndics into war before I became too powerful to overcome."
The general's red eyes flashed. He strode to stand before Thrawn. "Sir what you've told me is grounds to have her removed here and now: this throws doubt over her loyalty!"
"You don't see the whole picture, Beyin." Thrawn shook his head. "Look at these qualities: she is capable, brave, intelligent and able to take both a broad and detailed view of events. And yes, she is loyal. She is loyal to the Chiss, as we all are. She saw a threat to the Chiss and immediately began working on a way to counter it. This is an extraordinary officer we have, General, and a valuable addition to our forces."
"But...she doesn't intend to remain in your service once the battle is over."
"She will, Beyin." Thrawn replied. "I'm seeing to it."
"How?"
"The phalanx, General, will not be easy for her to leave. She has made herself a place there, an identity. For years she has worked to earn the trust and respect of those under her command, and she has trained them to meet her own high standards. She made that phalanx what it is today, and now she sees what she has made threatened. You saw her reaction when we spoke of new enlistments: the recruits from Unity Fleet will outnumber the phalanx troops four to one.
"The outfit will be flooded with Chiss who have turned their backs on their own Houses, Chiss with Imperial training, who will remake the phalanx into an extension of Unity Fleet and nothing more. And if that will pollute the phalanx, imagine what humans joining would do. Will Raine allow it? Never." He stood and paced, continuing in a calm yet implacable, ruthless voice. "My home guard will bind her to us like a durasteel chain. The Empire will benefit greatly."
And more importantly, Thrawn would not lose his last link to his son.
"I still think you're mistaken." Beyin warned. "Only a fool thinks he can accurately predict how a female will behave: they themselves do not know what they will do from one moment to the nest. I'm still going to keep a close watch on her."
"I wouldn't expect anything less of you."
Beyin looked satisfied for a moment and nodded, but as he turned to go a troubled expression crossed his features. He looked back at Thrawn.
"You're humoring me, aren't you?" He said. "You predicted Raine's reaction. So you must have predicted mine as well. You foresaw this conversation and had a counter ready for every argument I made." He frowned. "Then, as a, what, a consolation prize? - You place me on her ship to show that my services are still valued."
"Yes." Thrawn crossed his arms. "And to give you an opportunity to judge the commander's ability for yourself."
"Even after all that's happened, you're still manipulating all of us like a child playing with his toys. Don't you ever stop?"
The Admiral frowned. "Not like a child and toys, Beyin. Never like that."
"A craftsman using his tools then. Is that more appropriate?" Even in this informal setting, Beyin didn't allow anger to color his tone. They were Chiss, after all.
"No, still a bad analogy. A tool cannot think, General. A tool cannot be left on its own to complete a task, or be trusted with responsibilities. A tool cannot work toward the craftsman's goal with the same dedication as the craftsman himself." He shook his head. "I value everyone who serves under me, but yes: I do manipulate them. I do so to bring out their best performance, and in answer to your question, no: I don't ever stop. I can't stop, not to rest, not to grieve, not to celebrate a victory, because there is always one more challenge just over the horizon. One more enemy to prepare for." Thrawn's mouth twitched, but he didn't look away.
"I have always considered you a friend, Beyin, and for what it's worth I do regret having to manipulate you, but in all likelihood I will continue to do so in the future. If this means I forfeit that friendship, then so be it. I have already sacrificed more than that in doing what I believe is right."
For a moment Beyin said nothing, then he sighed and shook his head. "I understand. Families know I should: I'm a general myself. I guess it was just difficult for me to face how far you've come: I remember when you were just a young lordling sent to learn from me. I remember disciplining you. Yes, every teacher rejoices when his student surpasses him, but even then..." He trailed off. "You're a giant, Thrawn, you're the kind of man who makes history. Often, such giants tend to crush lesser folk without even realizing it."
Thrawn thought over what the general had said. "I do what I must," was the only answer he had.
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