Force Exile V: Warrior/Part 7

14
The Yanibar Guard task force emerged from hyperspace in the Rishi system five days after its departure from Ord Pardron without its typical benefit of hyperspace probes. The system was not expected to be heavily defended and they had needed speed to reach their destination as opposed to accurate reconnaissance. Yanibar Guard Fleet doctrine normally required fleet commanders to deploy a few light years from their final destination and send reconnaissance probes first, but Commodore Arystek had been advised to proceed to Rishi with all speed and so had overruled that in favor of jumping into the outer edges of the system, where they would be in position to dominate the hyperlane. Or so they had thought.

In between their jump and Qedai’s last transmission, the small Yuuzhan Vong force had interdicted Rishi, positioning itself to cut off the inbound hyperlane. While in hyperspace, the Yanibar Guard had been unable to receive communications or scan for hostile ships. Now, as the whirling dimensional tunnel of hyperspace resolved itself into starfield, Commodore Arystek was startled to find several rocky lumps alarmingly close to her fleet. Immediately warnings began to blare throughout the bridge.

“Ma’am, Yuuzhan Vong ships detected in close proximity!” her sensor officer reported.

“Move the fleet into protective formation!” she replied quickly. “All batteries fire at will! Launch all fighters!”

As the bridge shook itself from a heightened alert into full battle alert status, the commodore continued to briskly bark orders even as she filtered out the stream of data flowing to her from subordinates and the holodisplay in front of her.

“Redeploy the Atarus and the Windu for a flank assault,” she said as she studied the Yuuzhan Vong formation turning to engage her. “They seem as surprised to see this large of a group here.”

“Commodore, estimates show that our fleet displacement is only thirty percent stronger than theirs and they may have reinforcements,” the captain of the Windu advised her. “We cannot afford to be pinned here.”

“I agree, Captain,” she said. “Our orders are to reach that planet. We’ll slice through them quickly, punch through to Rishi, pick up our people, and get out. I doubt they can turn swiftly enough to catch us.”

The twelve YGF ships quickly slid into place, with the three Niman-class cruiser-carriers and four Makashi-class frigates screening the Vigilant Refuge while the Soresu-class Fleet Defender Mace Windu and the three Ataru-class gunships slid to the side in a flanking formation.

Down in the Vigilant Refuge’s lower decks, Jasika had been sitting with the other Paladins in the squadron ready room, talking casually about the last battle. While still festooned in her pilot’s gear, ready to fly, she and the rest of Paladin Squadron were not anticipating a call to man their craft. Instead, she was sitting back comfortably, her booted feet up on a table, looking at cannon-holo footage. The other pilots were similarly relaxed, munching on post-battle snacks or playing sabacc.

That was when the alarm sounded. The good mood and cheer instantly evaporated as if hit by a torpedo, replaced by a mad scramble for the door and a short race to the hangar where their refueled and rearmed fighters were awaiting them. Jasika’s heart immediately began racing. They were under attack? She was caught off guard, unsure and bewildered by the sudden call to action. Anxiety swelled within her and she was slow to get out of the ready room as she struggled to collect her wits.

“We’ve reverted right in front of a Vong fleet!” Commander Mada told them as he received information from his earpiece comlink. “We need to punch through them and escort the rest of the task force to Rishi.”

Jasika nodded as she struggled to pull on her helmet while jogging to her fighter. Klaxons wailed through the hangar and the sound of shouted instructions was largely drowned out by the thunderous whine of three dozen repulsorlift engines powering up simultaneously. She leaped into her cockpit and, fastening the seat harness, ran through an abbreviated checklist. The fighter squadrons had received orders to launch as soon as they were ready and Jasika was following the rest of the Paladins out of the carrier’s hangar decks in short order, zooming into space. The fighters managed to deploy just as the Yanibar Guard fleet closed into effective weaponry range of their antagonists.

Immediately, space between the two opposing forces lit up with weapons fire in the form of violet energy bursts and blue missile trails from the YGF squadron returned by dark green grutchins and ochre streaks of molten plasma lancing from the Yuuzhan Vong armada. Hordes of starfighters issued from both fleets, with the swarm of coralskippers running first into a massed formation of aged Vulture droid starfighters launched from the Vigilant Refuge to blunt the Yuuzhan Vong assault and open up gaps in their fleet. The droids were expected to take heavy losses, but their numbers and willingness to be used in suicide attacks would help soften the Yuuzhan Vong. Behind them followed a dozen squadrons from the Yanibar Guard fleet, including the Paladins, assigned to assault the Yuuzhan Vong warships.

“Form on me, Paladins,” Commander Mada ordered. “We’re escorting a squadron of B-wings to knock out some of those Vong heavies.”

Jasika clicked her comlink in acknowledgment and tightened up her formation alongside the commander as they rocketed towards the thick of the engagement with a dozen of the cruciform assault starfighters following behind the Paladins. The Paladins split into three quartets to cover the B-wings from multiple angles, a maneuver that left Jasika, Commander Mada, and two other pilots as the only escort craft in front of the B-wings and charged with both drawing defensive fire from the capital ships and fending off head-on assaults from the attacking coralskippers.

Swooping down on a Yuuzhan Vong frigate, Jasika seemed to be staring up at a rainstorm of fiery streaks based on the volume of plasma globules surging past her canopy. She desperately juked, relying on reflexes and instinct to dodge each of the deadly projectiles homing towards her craft. Glancing hits struck her shields, bouncing and jostling her starfighter even as she fought to both evade fire and stay alongside her wingmate.

“One Flight, torpedoes, amidship and aft,” Commander Mada ordered.

Jasika clicked her comlink again and toggled on her torpedo targeting system, hovering the reticule over the organiform Yuuzhan Vong warship’s rocky mass. Another barrage of plasma fire from shorter-ranged weapons slammed into the Paladins’ formation, hammering her shields.

“Release and break,” the commander instructed.

Jasika waited until the reticule indicated a target lock, then thumbed the torpedo fire button twice, sending two of the weapons streaking towards the frigate on fiery trails of blue exhaust. She immediately pulled away—ordinarily a bad tactic, since enemy gunners would anticipate such a move. However, her flight was drawing fire away from the more heavily-armed B-wings and the diversion seemed to be working. Her shields blew out in a quick shower of sparks as her Sabre II was hammered by plasma fire. Immediately, her cockpit diagnostics lit up with amber and red warning lights and the wounded starfighter began beeping and shrieking. She attempted to barrel roll through the onslaught, but found that the maneuver took much longer than she had anticipated, resulting on another strike on her port stabilizer. Her control surfaces were damaged, the starfighter now sluggish to respond to her touch.

Another wave of projectiles skimmed over the top of her craft and she deftly juked under them even as they colored her field of vision with crimson streaks of molten plasma. The angle was wrong for them to have come from the frigate and risked a glance at the sensor board. Her sensors revealed that she’d been split from her wingman and now there were two coralskippers on her tail. Not good.

“Twelve here, picked up a couple tails,” she reported.

Jasika snapped her Sabre II into another break turn away from the Yuuzhan Vong squadron, hoping to deter her pursuers. No such luck. The two alien spacecraft easily outmaneuvered her and cut inside her turn, sending jagged globules of plasma crisscrossing her flight path. In desperation, Jasika punched off a torpedo straight ahead and detonated it as soon as she was clear of the blast radius. The explosion knocked away enough of the plasma projectiles to prevent them from riddling her wounded fighter, but she was forced to fly through it, cooking her sensors and overloading her laser cannons. Now she was blind, crippled, defenseless, and all but unarmed. However, some inner strength arose within her, and willed her to keep fighting, keep surviving. She had faith that if she held out a little longer, that help would come her way.

She stomped on her etheric rudder pedals, slewing out of the line of fire of the coralskippers momentarily. The few seconds that action bought were precious indeed and she twisted away from them further. Their superior maneuverability soon had the two determined foes on her tail again, but again, her courage did not falter. Jasika would keep fighting until her foes were destroyed or she was.

“Break port, Twelve,” came the welcome sound of Commander Mada’s voice.

She complied even as Yuuzhan Vong plasma globs were redirected in her direction, forcing her to abort her turn or else have her nose completely shot away. However, she noticed several oncoming ships heading right at her, thankfully the disk-shaped profiles of YGF Maelstroms rather than the lumpy outlines of coralskippers. They shot past her, laser cannons blazing. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw two messy explosions were all that remained of her pursuit.

“What’s your status, Twelve?” Mada asked.

“Not good,” she said. “My ship’s pretty banged up.”

“Copy that,” he replied. “Your transmitter is hit too, couldn’t hear you until we got closer.”

“Understood. Sorry I lost you back there.”

“Should’ve been clearer.”

He paused and Jasika wondered what he was going to say next. She and the rest of the flight seemed to be away from the engagement and she wondered if the B-wing attack run had been successful.

“New orders,” he said. “Fall back to the VR and move past the Vong fleet. We’re heading to Rishi.”

Jasika clicked her comlink and cruised her crippled starfighter towards the cluster of Yanibar Guard ships, which had sliced through the Yuuzhan Vong formation and was now leaving the enemy force behind. Her squadmates shepherded her in towards the hangar bay even as another group of ships approached the Yanibar Guard fleet from the direction of Rishi. Thankfully, Jasika was able to limp into the hangar bay. However, when she tried to cut in her repulsorlifts, she found they were inoperable. Similarly, her landing gear would not deploy and she was going way too fast.

“Control, no repulsors, no gear,” she said as she zoomed through the hangar bay—which was fortunately mostly empty.

She was going to run out of hangar space soon, and either impact messily into the back of ship, or else barely manage to zoom into space once more, which would leave her in the same perilous situation as before. “Copy that, Paladin Twelve,” Control said. “Attempt to slow yourself and aim for the aft hangar exit.”

Jasika complied, reversing thrust in an attempt to slow her starfighter down. Around her, hangar personnel and technicians dove for safety as she screamed past them. The meters of the dull gray hangar bay flew past all too quickly, despite her efforts to slow herself. She was going to crash. Then, inexplicably but inexorably, her craft seemed to sink towards the deck, shedding velocity at an increased rate. The starfighter hit the deck with a piercing shriek, bounced several nerve-wracking times, then finally skidded to a stop at an oblique angle in a shower of sparks, perfectly still, and less than fifty meters from the aft hangar entrance.

Jasika looked in awe at the starfighter, confounded for an answer as to how her ship had slowed to a stop so quickly when it had seemed like she was going to crash spectacularly. Hastily, she remembered to power down the engines and other systems, then looked to see a wave of techs, droids, and an emergency medical team racing towards her ship, hosing it down with fire suppressants. Behind them, she saw a petite blue-skinned Twi’lek female facing her starfighter, arms extended, eyes closed in concentration. As Jasika gawked, the Twi’lek’s arms lowered and she opened her eyes to look at Jasika. She bowed slightly in Jasika’s direction, then turned and departed. Jasika shook her head, as she realized that the Twi’lek was a Force-user, and had apparently just used telekinesis to arrest her starfighter before it could crash. Belatedly she wondered if the reserves of perseverance she had experienced in the battle had been created or bolstered by the Twi’lek as well—such a thing was no doubt possible for masters of the Force.

At that moment, her concentration was disrupted by a group of medics clambering frantically up to her canopy, checking to see if she was injured. Chastened, she returned her focus to the present and popped the canopy, allowing herself to be helped out of the cockpit and hustled off to the medical bay for examination and possible treatment. On the bridge of the Vigilant Refuge, Commodore Arystek watched as the last of her ships cleared the Yuuzhan Vong fleet and moved past it towards the blue-green orb of Rishi. The Yuuzhan Vong did not seem incline to pursue—especially after having lost a pair of frigates and a handful of starfighters in exchange for severe damage to the Ataru-class gunship Jurokk and a dozen starfighter casualties. The engagement had been vicious but short, with neither side desiring to turn it into a pitched battle. What concerned her more was the motley group of ships approaching her from Rishi. Long-range sensors had detected several starfighter types employed by the New Republic, and it was likely that these were planetary defense forces. However, given that her mission was to extract the YGI team from Rishi’s surface, she was not about to let them stop her. Her fleet, while weakened, was more than capable of plowing through this fleet group as well and proceeding to Rishi. She had no stomach for another fight, but until she had new instructions from Admiral Cyrreso or Master Kraen, the commodore was free to exercise her own judgment.

She turned to see a blue-skinned Twi’lek wearing gray robes slip up beside her. The naval officer acknowledged her presence with a curt nod.

“Master Zamara, did you get the situation you sensed in the hangar bay cleared?”

“Yes, Commodore. The pilot and her starfighter are safely landed.”

“Thank you, then, and for the help of your battle meditation as well. I could see the difference, could almost feel it turn the tide overwhelmingly in our favor.”

Not being Force-sensitive, the commodore was generally uneasy in the presence of powerful Force-users, and Master Zamara had only recently been assigned as the Elite Guardian representative on the Vigilant Refuge. The tall Twi’lek carried herself with an air of gravity and serenity at all times and her presence bespoke authority. Even the veteran naval officer wasn’t exactly sure how to address someone who was technically under her authority only for as long as she chose to be. While Zamara’s directive from the Council of the Elites placed her mission as supporting the Vigilant Refuge and its supporting ships with her Force powers, particularly battle meditation, Commodore Arystek also knew that Zamara had the freedom to alter her priorities at will.

“You are welcome, Commodore,” Zamara answered her coolly. “I am glad to have been of assistance.”

“We might need some more of that soon,” the commodore said, “depending on what this next group of ships wants. I used most of my Vulture droids in suicide runs on the Vong to lessen the casualties. If we have to fight again, we’ll take more losses.”

“They are not Yuuzhan Vong opponents, at least,” Zamara informed her. “I can sense them in the Force, which will make battle meditation more effective on them since I can affect them as well.”

“Good to know, though I’d rather not get into a fight if we can talk our way out of it.”

“A wise course of action.”

“I’m not comfortable negotiating without too much authority, though. This is matter that should be handled above my pay grade. I have priority communication codes to Yanibar Guard Fleet Command, but it’s a dreadful time of day there and last I remember, Admiral Cyrreso was recovering from an illness.”

“You have not been able to reach Master Kraen?”

“There’s been some stalling on that end,” the commodore explained. “Something about how he is unavailable due to official business and that my message is not ranked of a high enough priority to disturb him.” “I will see what I can do then,” Zamara replied, slipping away as quietly as she had come.

As the Force-user left, Commodore Arystek turned her attention to the approaching ships.

“Guess we better get this over with. Comms, get me a signal to those ships, open channel.”

The order was swiftly carried out and Arystek walked over to the holoprojector so the transmitter could send her holo. Per Yanibar Guard protocol when dealing with hostile or unknown ships, she did not state the name of her ship, her affiliation, nor her true name.

“I am Commodore Aurek, speaking to approaching ships. What are your intentions?”

There was a slight delay, then a deep male voice, probably human, replied.

“Sorry for the quality, Commodore, we only have audio comms. We were coming up to help you against that Vong fleet, but you appear to have blasted through them with no problem.”

“And you are?” she asked.

“The name’s Derek Klivian and you’re looking at a mixture of volunteers and Rishian defense force ships. We’ve been trying to find a way past that Vong blockade for the past five days—whoever you are, we appreciate the help.”

“The Yuuzhan Vong are no friends of ours,” the commodore told him.

“Great,” Klivian replied. “If you’re willing to help us a little more and go for round two, we could finish off that fleet once and for all.”

“Not wise,” she told him. “We’ve just learned that a much larger Yuuzhan Vong fleet is on its way and could be here in up to four days. Destroying this one will accomplish nothing.”

That much was true, as probes left behind in the Ord Pardron system had detected a large Yuuzhan Vong force, much larger than Arystek’s fleet, arrive insystem at Ord Pardron, orbit for twelve hours, then jump on a vector towards Rishi. That meant they could be here within four and a half days, depending on their speed.

“And we just learned that a Peace Brigade fleet will be here in five,” Klivian returned. “All the more reason to take out this fleet quickly so we can evacuate. Are you in?”

The commodore bit her lip. It was a natural request for him to make, but it was outside of her mission parameters. She was here to extract a YGI team, not join planetary defense forces in attacking the Yuuzhan Vong. Irritatingly, that team hadn’t shown itself or attempted contact with her, and she was under orders not to reveal her objectives, which meant she couldn’t attempt contacting them.

“I’m afraid that disrupting the Yuuzhan Vong presence here is only a secondary objective of mine. We have other objectives on Rishi.”

“And what might those be?” Klivian asked, obviously perturbed.

“I’m not at liberty to divulge that.”

“Let me guess, you’re not at liberty to divulge who your little fleet comes from or answers to either?” Klivian asked sarcastically.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well, I answer to a lot of people on that planet, Commodore. And that means that if your intentions towards Rishi are hostile, I’m going to have to get in your way.”

“That would be both suicidal and unnecessary,” Arystek returned evenly. “My fleet means you and Rishi no harm. All we wish is to complete our mission.”

“The one you won’t tell us about,” Klivian retorted.

Arystek ground her teeth in frustration. While it might be easier just to tell Klivian she was trying to extract some YGI agents, that also meant he could use them as hostages if he had them in his custody—a real possibility given that her briefs had indicated that at least one team member was being held by the planetary government.

“I can tell you this much. We’re not going anywhere until we obtain some more information related to our mission.”

“Wow, this has been a great conversation so far,” Klivian answered her sardonically. “You’ve told me almost nothing about you. Tell you what, as long as you and your fleet sit between the Vong and us, I’m fine with it. My earlier warning stands, call me if you want to have a real discussion, or maybe go to a Vong-smashing party.”

The link terminated, leaving Arystek annoyed. Communications protocols and mission security and a lack of direction on how to handle this situation had left her without much to go on. For now, she would have to wait until the YGI team contacted her fleet, or until Master Kraen contacted her with more orders.

“Set the fleet into defensive formation, keep clear of both forces. I want battle damage reports and repairs underway, keep at least six squadrons launched at all times. Everyone stays on standby.”

As she finished rattling off her orders, Arystek noticed Zamara had reappeared alongside her. Though startled by her silent approach, Arystek let nothing beyond a sidelong glance evoke her surprise.

“Master Kraen will speak with you very shortly,” Zamara answered in her ubiquitously calm voice.

“Good,” Arystek grumbled. “Maybe he can shed some light on what exactly I’m supposed to do and how I’m supposed to do it. I don’t see the team I’m supposed to extract and without landing people on Rishi, it’s going to be hard to find them.”

“Perhaps not,” Zamara suggested mildly, then turned to slip off again.

“Whatever that means,” Arystek muttered after her. “I’ll never figure them out, as long as I live.”


 * Rishi

Ryion sat shirtless on the bed with one leg thrust out in front of them. Leaning forward, he grabbed his foot and stretched, wincing at the ache evoked from the still-healing tissue. He’d been cooped up in this room for five days now, and while Shara had untied him and provided him with clothing four days earlier, she had not said he was allowed to leave the room. Instead, he had exercised and focused on continuing to heal his remaining wounds so he could return to fighting shape as quickly as possible. He had used his Force powers in a limited fashion, not knowing if Katarn could or would sense him, so his progress had been slower than he could have done without such inhibitions.

The door slid open and Shara entered quickly. Ryion glanced over and saw that she was obviously excited or upset about something despite her attempt to mask her emotions.

“What can I do for you, Lady Shara?” he asked her lazily. “I take it you haven’t brought my lightsaber?”

“No, I haven’t,” she said. “New ships have arrived in orbit and broken through the Yuuzhan Vong blockade, but did not destroy it.”

“So the New Republic came through,” Ryion commented.

“They are not New Republic ships. They are not Bothan ships. They are not Hapan ships. The defense officials say they do not whose ships they are or even what they are.”

“How strange,” Ryion commented dryly.

“Do you know something about these ships, Matrik? They seem to be like you—mysterious and yet powerful. They could easily break the blockade, but claim to have other reasons for being in this system. I heard Master Katarn saying he sensed other Force-users—and you are a Force-user. Are these your people?”

“If they were, why would I tell you?” Ryion asked her.

“Because I asked you an honest question, one that will do you no harm to answer,” she said. “If they are your people, we will know that soon enough by their actions. If they are not, you accomplish little by hiding that.”

Ryion sighed.

“Did you happen to bring me anything so I could possibly give an informed answer to that question?” he asked. “Or do you expect me to sense them from here?”

“Can you?” she inquired.

Ryion frowned at her, annoyed.

“If I could, I certainly wouldn’t tell you that,” he answered.

“In any case, I brought this,” she told him, handing him a portable holoprojector.

He activated it and saw holos of Yanibar Guard Fleet ships, including a Soresu-class Fleet Defender and a Jar’Kai-class carrier displayed in front of him. It was a large force, a larger one than he had expected and possibly the largest major outsystem deployment of the Yanibar Guard Fleet ever. Ryion kept his face passive, careful not to let the faintest hint of a reaction or recognition show as he surveyed the holos while Shara waited impatiently.

“Fine,” he said at last. “I’m affiliated with the same group as those ships. Happy? Can I leave now?”

“If you wish to leave, by now I doubt we could stop you,” Shara replied. “You have recovered much of your strength and your fleet in orbit is clearly the strongest force in the system right now.”

“I sense an unsaid ‘but’ in that sentence,” Ryion said, glowering at her.

“I do not understand why you and your fleet will not help us against the Yuuzhan Vong,” Shara said. “I am normally opposed to violence, but I do not believe that calling is extended to all people until all people embrace that call.”

“Now that made sense,” Ryion quipped.

“If nobody stands against the Yuuzhan Vong, then the Yuuzhan Vong will conquer, enslave, and kill countless millions more,” Shara explained. “I have seen this on my planet and seen reports from other worlds. You and your people have the strength to fight them, but yet you refuse to do so.”

Ryion arched his eyebrow at her.

“I wouldn’t call nearly getting killed saving your life ‘refusing to do so,’” he remarked. “You do not seem particularly grateful at the moment.”

Her features softened and she took on an expression that was almost mournful.

“Do you regret saving me?” she asked him sincerely.

“No.”

The answer was quick and sincere. Given the choice to replay that particular scenario, Ryion would have done exactly the same thing.

“But you cannot explain why your fleet will not help us against a force they could easily defeat by themselves.”

“It’s not that simple,” Ryion returned quickly. “And strictly speaking, it’s not my fleet.”

“So you will leave, along with your fleet and whatever other friends you have here, and leave us to our fate.”

Ryion sighed again. The thought she was vocalizing didn’t sit well with him either, on multiple levels. It was contrary to his personal convictions as well as Depa’s admonitions.

“If that Vong fleet could be easily defeated by our fleet, then likely your own defense forces can hold them off indefinitely,” Ryion commented. “Especially if we weakened them already.”

Shara shook her head sadly.

“It is not that simple,” she said. “I have also learned that two more fleets, one Yuuzhan Vong, and one Peace Brigade, are on their way here as well. They will be here within the week.”

Now that shook Ryion. Try as he could to justify leaving this planet with the rest of the fleet and returning to the safety of Yanibar, he knew all too well the fate that awaited the inhabitants of Rishi and the Chalactan refugees they had harbored. It was not a pretty one.

“Can your people and as many of the Rishians as possible be evacuated in four days?” he asked.

She frowned at him, then shook her head again.

“You have seen the camps, the medcenters. Even if we had enough ships, it would be impossible to save even the majority of the people.”

Ryion hung his head for a moment, then steeled himself against what he was about to say.

“I’m sorry, then there’s not much I can do, Shara,” he said. “It’s a damn shame, but I can’t help.”

His words lit a fire in her eyes.

“If I didn’t know you better, I would have thought you were the biggest coward I’d ever laid eyes on,” she said angrily.

“Maybe you don’t understand this,” Ryion fired back. “But if two more enemy fleets show up and we stay, they’ll kill not only the Rishians and your people, but my people as well. We’ll kill a bunch of them, but they will win. End result, more people die. More good people as well as bad people.”

“So you think it is better not to fight then?”

“Not here, not in a fight we can’t possibly win,” Ryion answered. “I want nothing more than to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong, but it has to be done without foolishly wasting lives to accomplish nothing. They can’t be defeated if our lives are thrown away in a futile defense.”

“I did not know our lives meant so little to you,” Shara told him. “I have misjudged you.”

Ryion closed his eyes and ground his teeth as he tried to cope with the verbal daggers she was throwing at him. Taking a deep breath, he carefully formulated the words of his next answer.

“Shara, I would gladly put myself at risk to protect you and your people. I’ve already done so and I would do so again. But I cannot consciously ask my brothers-in-arms to sacrifice themselves in a battle that will cost all of us our lives and where the end result is the same as if we hadn’t fought.”

“Such is the high-minded idealism of the Jedi,” she said.

“I’m not a Jedi,” Ryion reminded her. “And while I realize military doctrine might be unfamiliar to you, a sacrifice with no gain is not worth making, and that’s what you’re asking me for.”

“I am asking you to use the power you wield to defend the helpless instead of running away.”

“That’s not what you’re asking me for,” Ryion replied. “You’re asking me to get you a military to defend your people, and I can’t do that. I want to help you, Shara. I can arrange passage for you and as many of your people and the Rishians as the fleet can load in four days.”

“How many is that? 1,000? 2,000? 10,000?” she asked.

“Probably somewhere in the middle of that range,” he told her.

“That is a fraction of the people here.”

“I know.”

“Then I thank you for your offer, but I must decline,” she answered resolutely. “My fate will be the same as the rest of my people. I have already left too many behind to perish.”

“That’s brave but naïve,” Ryion blurted out. “You can’t accomplish anything by staying here and dying.”

“I will at least die with uncompromised principles,” Shara told him coolly.

“That’s not fair,” Ryion said. “My people did not ask for this war.”

“Neither did mine.”

He sighed. He was being forced to make arguments that were all too similar to those his father had used against him when he had advocated for more active involvement of the Yanibar Guard against the Yuuzhan Vong. Except that his suggestions hadn’t been suicide defenses.

“As much as I wish it were otherwise, we do not have the power or responsibility to intervene in every galactic conflict,” he said, reciting a fundamental precept of Yanibar Guard military doctrine. “We do what good we can with what we have and where it can be effective.”

“Of course,” Shara said. “I will bring your lightsaber and have you escorted from here as quickly as possible. I’m sure a transport can be arranged to take you to your fleet.”

“I sense another ‘but’ going unspoken,” Ryion commented.

“Before you go, I have only one small request,” she said. “Look at me. Look at me closely.”

Though confused, Ryion complied, looking her over before locking his eyes with hers.

“Good,” she said. “I want you to remember what I looked like before I am cast upon a Yuuzhan Vong sacrificial altar. I hear that they often kill their victims by stabbing them in the heart.”

She laid her hand on her breast over her heart.

“Alternately, other reports indicate people being burned alive en masse. So remember what I look like before the flesh is slowly burned from my bones.”

“This won’t be necessary,” Ryion said, disturbed by the mental images her words were evoking.

“That’s because you are fleeing that responsibility,” she answered curtly. “But at least you and your people will be safe. I’ll tell myself that when the flames consume me, Matrik.”

“Stop it,” Ryion said, visibly distraught.

Her words were having their desired effect. He would barely be able to live with himself after speaking all those words about conviction and responsibility to his father only to spit on them on Rishi and leave her and the rest of her people to suffer and die.

“Given the trouble that the Yuuzhan Vong have been caused by our people’s escape, it is likely that they will torture me first. So, to get it right in your mind’s eye, remember that I will not enter the fire or reach the altar unmarred.”

“Stop it!” Ryion demanded, but she continued heedless of his words.

“They could implant me with creatures that burrow into my body to inflict pain. They could slice me and cut me so that my blood spills on the ground I walk along. They could pull my arms and legs out of socket, render me a helpless cripple. Perhaps they will cut out my eyes, or my nose, or my tongue. By that point, Matrik Tenzor, I will beg for the release of death.”

“Chalactan Adepts are said to be masters at withstanding torture,” Ryion replied, even as he swallowed hard, trying to will away her words.

“And the Yuuzhan Vong are said to be masters at inflicting it,” Shara answered evenly. “They will have plenty of time to break me.”

“Stop it!” Ryion bellowed. “I will not be manipulated by you. I gave you a chance to leave here with us.”

“You know, they say Peace Brigade ships are coming, too. Have you heard of what they have done on conquered worlds?” Shara asked.

Ryion knew. The Peace Brigade, from all reports he had seen, had shown no restraint on worlds claimed by the Yuuzhan Vong. Widespread beatings, looting, torture, and rape were said to follow in their path.

“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Those children you visited in the refugee camps and medcenters? The Yuuzhan Vong do not show mercy to young ones—they will be enslaved or end up on the sacrificial pyres too.”

At this, Ryion had had enough. Turning to glare at her, he clenched his fist and, for a split second, considered choking her with the Force. Some inner conviction told him that would be even more of a grievous wrong, so instead he slammed his fist down on the bedrail with a loud bang, finally silencing her.

“Enough!” he roared.

Ryion closed his eyes heavily, trying to blank out her arguments and returning his tone to normal.

“Shara, I empathize for your people. But that same result happens no matter what I do, or even what my people do.”

“I understand this,” she said. “Take your Jedi weapon. Leave this world with your people. But remember me as I was before I am slowly, brutally killed. Make my death not be in vain.”

Her words shook Ryion to the core.

“Damn you,” he said. “I know you’re trying to manipulate me.”

“How can I manipulate you to do something you truly have no desire to do?” she asked.

“You’re trying,” he responded, glaring at her. “Just go ahead and tell me what you want me to do. Get it over with.”

“I want you to do what you know is the right thing,” Shara answered him evenly. “I want you to think of the defenseless people whose only protection might be you and whether or not you have a responsibility to fight for them. For me.”

“No, that’s not what you really want,” Ryion said sternly. “If you want me to listen to you, stop the lying. Stop the philosophy, stop the idealism. You tell me what you want, or this conversation is over. No more games.”

She sobered up from her fevered barrage of impassioned rhetoric to regard him simply.

“I have seen what you and your people can do. I have seen them defeat the Yuuzhan Vong twice now, with scarcely any losses. I see the courage and the power to stand against their cruelty in your people. I would have them use that power to protect us and to show the galaxy that the defenders of good still triumph.”

“Now that is an honest answer,” Ryion told her directly. “And my honest answer is that we can’t stand against a large Yuuzhan Vong force.”

“Until six days ago, I did not think anyone could stand against eight Yuuzhan Vong warriors alone,” Shara said. “You will never know unless you try.”

“You’re talking about risking a lot of blood for that try,” Ryion returned. “Blood that does not owe you anything.”

“I am talking about a chance to show the galaxy that has known nothing but defeat since the Yuuzhan Vong invaded. I am young but I am not ignorant. I know about Dantooine, and Ithor, and now Coruscant. This could be the battle that rallies millions to stand and fight.”

“Or the one that kills us all and nothing more,” Ryion shot back. “You’re awfully attached to an idea that couldn’t have formed less than a few hours ago when the fleet arrived, and is dependent on us doing all the dirty work. Evacuation is our best form of victory.”

“Compared to a military defeat of the Yuuzhan Vong?” Shara said. “A decisive defeat?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. “But that’s far from guaranteed.”

“Will you not help us then?” she asked.

“My people and I have already done much, both for you and your people,” Ryion reminded her.

Shara laid her hand on his arm.

“I am begging you,” she said plaintively. “Fight alongside us and show the galaxy that the Yuuzhan Vong can be defeated.”

“You know, I would have thought you had more conviction than to try and beg for a fleet. What next, going to offer yourself? Don’t be so cliché,” Ryion said sardonically.

Eyes ablaze, she slapped him hard across the face. He sensed it coming but allowed her the satisfaction of striking him, though he turned with the blow to lessen its impact.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“How dare you!” she bit out. “I am not lacking in conviction— I am desperate, because I see our only chance for a miracle slipping away in front of me. I’m begging you to help us, because I have exhausted every other approach. You and your people are our only hope.”

“You have an odd way of begging,” Ryion said, rubbing at the red handprint on his face.

“What do you want to do, Matrik?” she asked him finally. “What is your vision for the future?”

Ryion hesitated, but he hadn’t endured all this conversation to blatantly lie to her now, especially after demanding her to answer him honestly.

“I want to see both of our peoples survive and flourish,” he said. “I want to see them spared the horrors of war, and for the invasion to end and peace to return to the galaxy.”

“Then we want the same things,” she told him softly, a tear trickling down her face. “Will you help make that vision a reality?”

“I cannot freely answer that,” Ryion said. “My convictions tell me I should, but they also remind me of my duty and my allegiance. But I will do whatever is within my power to protect you, as long as I am here.”

Shara reached up to caress his face softly, running her hand gently over the skin she had slapped less than a minute before.

“I am asking too much of you,” she said huskily, “and I apologize. In my defense, to whom much is given, much is expected. I will arrange for you to contact your fleet.”

With that, she stood and slipped off, leaving a bewildered Ryion behind to contemplate what had just happened.


 * Ord Pardron, one day earlier

Cassi and Milya sat quietly in the small lounge inside Mithunir’s ship as it orbited Ord Pardron. The Yanibar Guard Fleet had departed for Rishi three days ago, and Selu had already returned to Yanibar on the Hawk-bat. While they waited for Jorge and Annita to arrive, the three had waited on Mithunir’s ship. Mithunir had suggested camping on the surface to help ease the cramped quarters, but Cassi and Milya had overruled that idea. Milya had wanted to remain in orbit so they could link up with Jorge and Annita faster and escape if need be, while Cassi had no desire to return to the surface of a planet now stained with the blood of so many Open Hands workers and refugees. Visiting the mass grave prepared by the Yanibar Guard Fleet to pay her final respects a few days ago had been hard enough.

Instead, they had waited patiently. All three spent considerable time in meditation, encouraged by Mithunir, who had told the two women that seeking Atlaradis would only be possible if they sought it with their hearts first. Taking his cryptic instructions in stride, they had opened themselves to the Force, sitting quietly for hours on end and seeking any sensation that might indicate the location or existence of a legendary planet that Mithunir assured them was steeped in the Force.

At that moment, their meditations were interrupted by Mithunir entering the lounge. They both quickly opened their eyes and looked at him.

“What is it?” Milya asked.

“Your friends have arrived,” Mithunir informed her.

“Good,” Milya said, rising. “Fly us over and we’ll meet up with them.”

Entering the narrow cockpit of the ship, Milya found the communications console and activated it as the small skiff approached the ''Silent Surprise. ''

“Jorge, Annita, good to see you two again,” Milya said.

“Pleasure to be here,” the amiable Corellian replied. “We’ve got enough gear and supplies to wander across half the galaxy, and there’s still room for Cassi’s luggage to boot.”

“Very funny, Jorge,” Cassi said, smiling in spite of herself.

“We’ll dock your ship with yours and take it with us,” Jorge told them. “Might be useful to have a smaller craft along.”

“Good idea,” Milya replied.

In short order, the two ships were docked. Jorge and Annita helped transfer the cargo and supplies that the three had obtained from the Yanibar Guard to the Silent Surprise’s hold, but made the mistake of not leaving someone on the ship’s bridge to monitor the situation. For that reason, when Jorge finally made his way forward, he belatedly realized the dangers of such a move.

“Kriff!” he swore. “We’ve got Vong ships inbound from multiple vectors! It’s an enclosure formation!”

“What?” Milya demanded from the aft of the ship where she was sliding a pair of cargo canisters into place.

Quickly, the other four raced up to the bridge as Jorge cut in the sublights.

“Look at the size of that fleet,” Annita commented as she watched the red blobs on the sensor board converge on them.

From what Milya could deduce, there were multiple capital ships and at least three dozen smaller warships closing on Ord Pardron. It was an impressive Yuuzhan Vong force and certainly eclipsed the Yanibar Guard Fleet squadron that had been here only a few days earlier. The aliens must have decided to send a punitive expedition to avenge the loss of their frigate.

“Well, I think it’s time for us to make our escape,” Jorge remarked with a glance at the sensors, pushing the engines to full power. “It’s going to be close, but the Surprise is fast enough that we should be able to escape their interdiction fields. They might be able to get off a few fighters on us, though.”

“Been there, done that,” Annita said.

“Well, let’s hope that round two goes better,” Jorge answered curtly, flicking a switch to power up the shields. “Nita, take the turret for me?”

“Only for you,” she replied with a flirtatious smile, sliding into the seat in front of the controls for the remotely-operated dorsal turret on the ''Silent Surprise. ''

“Six coralskippers inbound,” Milya reported. “We’re not where they expected us to be, so we’re clear of most of the formation.”

“Like I said, they’re not catching us this time,” Jorge said. “Navicomputer is dialing in a safe jump out of here. All we have to do is hold off those skips for a bit.”

Clutching her armrest in a white-knuckled grip, Milya silently concurred as she watched the six hostile starfighters close on them, hoping that Jorge was right.


 * Yuuzhan Vong Grand Cruiser Bloodthirster

Tsaruuk watched the cluster of blaze bugs intently as his ships reverted from hyperspace in an entrapment formation. Blaze bugs were the Yuuzhan Vong’s way of tracking and monitoring tactical data. They would quickly shape themselves into shapes and positions sent to them from the fleet’s yammosk, allowing Yuuzhan Vong commanders to track the battlefield. As the fleet’s living sensors gained information, the swarm of luminescent insects soon arranged themselves in a representation of Ord Pardron, but there was no enemy fleet here. Only a single small infidel vessel remained in orbit, and it was outside of the projected orbit track, as if it was making a rendezvous with a recently-arrived ship.

“Commander, only one infidel vessel spotted! It does not appear to be a warship,” reported Kroi Taak. “It is fleeing.”

Tsaruuk watched as the lone blaze bug that represented the tiny ship flitted away from the prongs of his flotilla.

“It is a swift vessel, possibly a scout,” he said. “Dispatch coralskippers to engage it, then send several transports down to retrieve our agents on the ground.”

He watched as six coralskippers jetted towards the fleeing ship, but while they were able to close the distance quickly, the small ship seemed to be holding them off.

“The pilots report that the small ship is defending itself with only one energy weapon,” Kroi Taak said. “It will be ours soon.”

“Have them seek to disable it, not destroy it,” Tsaruuk ordered. “We stand to gain more by capturing them than the swift destruction they deserve.”

Kroi Taak relayed the order to the villip attendants in charge of coralskipper communications while Tsaruuk kept his vigil at the blaze bug cluster, watching as the insects updated their positions based on the yammosk’s processing and collection of information from the fleet’s senses.

Suddenly, three of the coralskippers vanished, their blaze bugs darkening and returning to hover alongside the other unused ones, and three others took on a peculiar whine, indicating they were damaged. Tsaruuk frowned.

“Commander, the coralskippers report that the infidel ship used some kind of mine to attack them. The explosion ripped through their ships with some kind of shockwave that the dovin basals could not deflect,” Kroi Taak told him.

Tsaruuk saw that his remaining coralskippers were falling behind and his fleet elements were not in position to intercept the speedy scout ship. The infidels would escape—this time at least. A few trailing projectiles struck the vessel, but no serious damage was inflicted.

“Did they manage to tag it?” he asked.

“Yes,” Kroi Taak said.

“Order the coralskippers back then,” Tsaruuk commanded. “Have our shapers and analysts examine their ships and find out what kind of weapon the infidels used to damage them, then devise an appropriate counter-measure.”

“It will be done, honored one,” Kroi Taak told him, bowing and turning to carry out his orders while Tsaruuk watched the infidel ship escape to darkspace.

A few hours later, while waiting for the ships bearing Yiu Shac and the rest of her contingent aboard, Tsaruuk was suddenly approached by Kroi Taak.

“Commander, our fleet over Rishi is under attack,” the subaltern reported.

“What?” Tsaruuk demanded, rising from the thorn seat where he had been contemplating.

The two swiftly made their way over to the villip choir, where the villip from the squadron commander dispatched to blockade Rishi was everted.

“What is your report, Subcommander?” Tsaruuk asked.

“Our ships were mining the darkspace approaches to Rishi when an infidel fleet reverted from darkspace at close range. They outnumber us and are breaking through our force easily! I have lost one ship already, and another is badly damaged.”

“What kind of infidel fleet? Is it New Republic? Hapan?”

“I. . . I am not sure, Honored One,” the younger officer admitted. “Our intendants do not recognize the ships, but they will destroy us if we stay. Ships from the surface are rising to assist them as well.”

“Break off and do not pursue,” Tsaruuk ordered. “I have no desire for pointless sacrifices. If they follow you, jump to darkspace. If not, continue to mine the darkspace approaches to Rishi.”

“It shall be done, Honored One,” the subcommander replied.

“Send me all representations of the enemy ships and their displacements as well,” Tsaruuk added. “We shall reveal these mysterious new infidels for what they are before we grind them into dust. Do-ro’ik vong pratte!”

His subordinate nodded, then the villip everted as Tsaruuk ended the conversation to let him focus on the battle. However, soon the blaze bugs began arranging themselves to represent the battle raging over Rishi.

“I’ve seen those ships before, Commander,” came the furtive voice of Yiu Shac as she sidled up quietly behind him.

“Where?” asked Tsaruuk, turning in surprise at her quiet approach.

She looked haggard, dirty, and her leg was decidedly ruined by whatever injuries she had sustained, but Tsaruuk was still glad to see her. Her intelligence and cunning would serve him in battle and he would serve her in the quiet of their chambers to help her recover.

“Here, a few days ago. That is the fleet that destroyed our warship in orbit.”

“And they have gone to Rishi now. How curious,” Tsaruuk commented. “They must have knowledge of our activities there and are hitting us where we are weak.”

“A coward’s move,” Yiu Shac spit in disgust.

“Perhaps, but it is time we end their annoyance,” Tsaruuk told her. “That they have attacked Rishi is good for us, it pens them in nicely with the Chalactans we seek.”

“If their fleet destroys the blockade over Rishi, they will hardly be trapped,” Yiu Shac observed.

“The commander has orders to preserve his fleet, and their mining is almost done. Unless these infidels have new ways to destroy the dovin basal mines, they will be trapped, unable to flee to darkspace by the time we arrive,” Tsaruuk said. “Yet I feel we are missing a vital connection here.”

“And what is that?” Yiu Shac inquired.

“You wounded and chased a jeedai here, and then this fleet arrived to attack. Our agents apparently engaged another jeedai on Rishi and wounded him as well, only to have this fleet attack there next. Whoever they are, they are in league with the jeedai.”

“An interesting idea,” Yiu Shac admitted. “But our network has heard nothing of this fleet or these particular jeedai before. If they had been around, would not they have fought when we seized their training center on Yavin’s moon or killed so many of them over Myrkr?”

“Perhaps it is a new fleet,” Tsaruuk mused. “In any case, we need to discover their secrets and then kill them.”

“I could be of assistance with that,” Yiu Shac offered.

Tsaruuk gestured for her to continue.

“Your coralskippers tagged that small ship you found here earlier. Allow me and a small contingent to pursue it—they may lead us to a new jeedai base since their last one fell. We will be careful to observe and not engage unless we can kill or capture the jeedai. While you destroy their fleet at Rishi, I will find out where they came from.”

“A sound plan,” Tsaruuk said after weighing his options. “You have my approval. Send a small ship to pursue the jeedai scout vessel.”

Yiu Shac thought she heard a nuance in his orders that she did not appreciate.

“Am I not to accompany it then?” she asked.

“I have need of you here, and you are not fully ready to fight jeedai yet,” Tsaruuk reminded her, gesturing at her still-crippled leg.

“The shapers assure me that they can replace my limb today,” Yiu Shac countered. “Besides, the jeedai I wounded is on that small ship. I saw her when it landed on the surface to visit the infidel grave. I have sworn to kill her myself, Tsaruuk. Grant me this.”

“Very well,” Tsaruuk conceded. “You may go. I shall contact the warmaster and then meet you in the escalation chambers.”

Yiu Shac bowed slightly and turned to hobble off. Tsaruuk watched her go, then ordered his fleet to set course for Rishi. Next, he retrieved the villip that linked him to Warmaster Tsavong Lah. Stroking it to stimulate the creature’s telepathic communication, he waited for the warmaster to reply. After about an hour’s wait, the villip finally took on the shape of Lah’s scarred head.

“What news, Tsaruuk?” Lah asked.

“We have found the Chalactan infidels you sought and their defenders on Rishi, Warmaster,” Tsaruuk told him, before adding, “and more.”

“More?”

“Our agents destroyed a refugee camp on the world of Ord Pardron, but their efforts were interrupted by a jeedai and a new fleet allied with them. It is small, but well-equipped by infidel standards. It then attacked our blockade at Rishi, where our agents have found more jeedai but is trapped there now by our dovin basals.”

Tsavong Lah actually smiled.

“Leave it to Tsaruuk with not being content to merely carry out his mission. He must find several jeedai and their fleet to add to his conquests as well.”

“I can destroy this fleet, but to be sure of their utter destruction, I request reinforcements, Warmaster.”

“What makes you think you deserve them? You have not even finished the simple task I gave you in destroying a handful of refugees. Why should I give you more ships?”

“Warmaster, you know best about the danger of the jeedai and how they can rally the infidels. I have contained their fleet at Rishi and can wipe them out, make an example out of them and deliver the refugees into your hands, but I will need more ships to win convincingly.”

“Were it any other commander, I would be worried about you throwing them away needlessly,” Tsavong Lah mused. “But we have suffered a setback elsewhere and our forces are spread thin.”

The warmaster paused to consider.

“You have done well thus far, but the demands of our campaign against the infidels require me to direct resources in other sectors.”

“Warmaster, any assistance you can send will only contribute to the destruction of the jeedai and their fleet.”

“Indeed,” Tsavong Lah replied. “Your reply will not go unanswered, Tsaruuk. I will send you a small force, but with several of our jeedai-hunting voxyn. They are rare now, so do not spend them lightly. I shall also dispatch as many of our Peace Brigade minions as can be spared to assist you with their fleet.”

“They are infidels, in infidel ships,” Tsaruuk said in disgust.

Lah smiled at him again.

“You have never had problems using unorthodox assets before,” Lah reminded him; “furthermore, you may consider them expendable. That is what I have decided to send you, and that is what you will use.”

Tsaruuk bowed his head.

“I am grateful for your assistance, Warmaster,” he said with proper subservience. “I will use the resources you provide to the glory of the gods and the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“See that you do,” Lah commented with a barbed threat.

The villip everted, leaving Tsaruuk to stalk down to the escalation chambers where Yiu Shac was seated on a reclining chair, her mangled leg elevated and attended to by a pair of shapers. The two shapers, distinguished by their tendril-laden living headdresses and multi-fingered hand implants, were applying substances and making small cuts around her leg at mid-thigh.

“What news?” she asked him as he approached.

“We shall have reinforcements, though not as many as I would like,” Tsaruuk told her. “The warmaster has given me a sizable contingent of Peace Brigade.”

She scowled.

“An insult given the magnitude of what we stand prepared to accomplish.”

“The warmaster has many battlespaces to consider,” Tsaruuk replied mildly. “We will prevail with what has been entrusted to us. But enough of that. How are you?”

She smiled fiercely at him.

“I am in the throes of glorious agony,” she said. “You arrived just in time. They are ready to sever the old leg and attach the new one.”

“I am pleased I could make it,” Tsaruuk said, “provided these shapers do not let you bleed to death while they work.”

“I’m sure they will do their job well,” Yiu Shac replied, gesturing at the shapers. “I am ready.”

They nodded. One of them took a sharp coufee and applied a thick sap to its side that would serve as a temporary coagulant. Then, the shaper placed the blade on Yiu Shac’s injured leg and began cutting into the flesh at mid-thigh. Black blood spurted and trickled from the wound, but did not pour, staunched by the coagulating moss. The shaper continued his work silently, save for the sound of the snap of the bone as it was severed. Her body wracked by agony, Yiu Shac stared at the ceiling while keeping herself fully conscious and under rigid control, neither screaming nor spasming in response to the incredible pain of having her leg amputated, just a true warrior was supposed to. Tsaruuk watched in enraptured fascination as the shapers finished cutting away the old appendage and began grafting in a new living leg taken from another creature to replace the damaged limb.

It was a procedure that would have seemed grotesque and unnatural to many, but to the Yuuzhan Vong, it was a natural part of life. To them, sacrificing and replacing body parts was not a mutilation, but a promotion and a sign of injury in honorable combat. With her new leg, Yiu Shac could soon return to the hunt and track down the jeedai she had wounded, and then she would kill her.

15

 * Yanibar, one day later

Selu strode down from the Hawk-bat onto the landing pad at Yanibar’s main military base in the thick of night, purposefully heading for the Elite Guardian wing of central headquarters. He tossed a quick salute to the pair of honor guards standing at attention to receive him, lost in thought and worried about Ariada. That such a powerful Force-user had turned rogue and then escaped Haxares, an installation specifically designed to restrain errant Force-users, was exceptionally troubling.

He entered headquarters, making his way through the gauntlet of security checkpoints, when his planetary defense comlink chirped. Selu frowned and quickly answered it.

“Your return is well-timed, Master Kraen,” came the voice of Arkanis Frelix, the chairman of Yanibar’s Governing Council. “An emergency meeting has been called.”

“Right now?” Selu replied.

“Yes,” Frelix told him. “And it is most important that you attend.”

There was an understated warning conveyed in the message and years of being on the Governing Council told Selu that this was one meeting he probably shouldn’t skip.

“I’m on my way,” he said.

Selu swiftly retraced his steps through the security checkpoints and made his way to his speeder. In short order, he made it over to the Ruling Council’s chambers only a few kilometers away in Union City.

To his surprise, the full Council was assembled, save for Milya. Both Admiral Cyrreso and General Sha-ki-noon were present from the Yanibar Guard as well as the thirteen civilian members. Sarth was also present. Selu entered quietly and took his place next to the other two officers. He immediately sensed the tension in the room, and the furtive looks in his direction foreshadowed pending trouble for him, and possibly the Yanibar Guard by relation.

“This emergency meeting is called to order,” the Muun chairman announced. “In conjunction with Article 76, this meeting’s proceedings are considered sealed. What is the first order of business?”

“We wish to discuss the security of Yanibar,” Councilor Asheram said. “In particular, the offworld activities of the Yanibar Guard Fleet.”

“Certainly,” Selu replied. “The fleet was deployed at Ord Pardron to rescue Yanibar civilians from a refuge camp that came under Yuuzhan Vong attack. We encountered minimal Yuuzhan Vong resistance and rescued several survivors. In preventing the Yuuzhan Vong from escaping with prisoners from Yanibar—civilian prisoners no less—we preserved the sanctity of this refuge.”

“A commendable action, Jedi Kraen,” commented the fiery Asharam. “But where is the fleet now? Admiral Cyrreso tells us it did not return with you.”

Selu looked over at the Arkanian admiral, who was still clearly getting over the Tastiged Flu. The normally-distinguished looking officer shrugged and Selu turned back to address Asheram.

“No, it didn’t,” Selu replied. “I sent it to Rishi to extract an Elite Guardian team and their associated intelligence assets that ran into some local trouble.”

Thankfully, Asheram did not ask him to elaborate on the definition of ‘local trouble.’ Instead, the Rodian Councilor had other, loftier objectives on his agenda.

“We are concerned about the escape of Ariada Cerulaen,” Asheram told Selu bluntly. “With the most powerful Force-users of the Yanibar Guard away, along with much of the ready fleet, it was all too easy for her to escape. In your absence, we have requested that the remainder of the Fleet and the Army be placed on high alert to prevent any more escapes.”

“I’m sorry, Councilor,” Selu replied sharply. “Have you read the intelligence reports on how she escaped Haxares? Do you know the circumstances surrounding her flight? If you have, I’d like to know, because that indicates a breach in our information security, given that those are very highly classified.”

Asheram sniffed dismissively.

“The specifics are irrelevant. The fact remains that she escaped and has likely gone rogue. And her escape was likely one that could have been prevented if you and our ready fleet had not been off warmongering.”

“Her escape was done in a manner that would have made it very difficult to stop, even if myself and the fleet had been here,” Selu replied with a frown. “Greater good was accomplished by our actions.”

“That remains to be seen,” countered Asheram. “What is apparent is that the offworld deployment of the fleet has weakened our refuge’s security. Ariada Cerulaen could easily be a greater threat than the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“That’s why I’ve returned to coordinate a search to find her and return her to Yanibar,” Selu answered.

“I’m afraid that’s not enough, Jedi Kraen,” Asheram sneered. “Your personal credibility has run dry with this council. Your guarantees of our safety are no longer good enough.”

Selu gave him a cold stare.

“I suggest you clarify that, Councilor,” Selu told him.

Asheram hit a button on the table and a data file was transmitted to Selu’s datapad.

“This is a proposed mandate that will require all Yanibar Guard actions to be approved by this Council and forbid deployment of more than seven warships of the Yanibar Guard Fleet offworld at any one time.”

Selu gave it a cursory look.

“I take it you have the votes to pass this,” the Jedi Master commented dryly.

Asheram favored him with a pitying expression.

“Would I have brought it up if I didn’t?”

“Possibly,” Selu replied. “What’s the point of all this?”

“You have lost our confidence, Jedi Kraen,” Asheram said. “The escape of Ariada Cerulaen is the worst breach of planetary security since the Zannist invasion. The fact that the Yanibar Guard was powerless to stop her has shaken not only the confidence of the people in the Guard, but their confidence in our leadership as well. And that means your leadership.”

“I understand your concerns,” Selu answered. “Are you asking for my resignation?”

“Not quite yet, Jedi Kraen,” Asheram leered. “But the council does wish to keep a closer eye on your activities and establish some much-needed oversight. I suggest you contact Commodore Arystek and order her to return to Yanibar as swiftly as possible.”

Selu started to reply, but his planetary defense comlink chirped at him again. Selu frowned and pulled it out. The incoming signal was from Yanibar Guard Fleet Command.

“This is Master Kraen,” he said. “Go ahead.”

“Master Kraen, we have a priority transmission from Commodore Arystek. Wait, belay that sir. Two-channel priority transmission from Commodore Arystek and Elite Kraen.”

Selu paled. Both Ryion and Commodore Arystek had apparently thought something so urgent that they both wanted to talk to him on a priority message. He looked around and saw the other councilors watching him expectantly. Selu knew from the askance looks he was getting that he couldn’t duck off and address this himself. They were demanding greater transparency and even though Asheram’s new mandate hadn’t passed yet, Selu would only make himself look worse by hiding the message.

“Very well,” he said, placing the comlink into the receptacle on the middle of the table. “Patch them through, but advise them that they will be talking to not just me but the Governing Council as well.”

Selu turned back to look pointedly at Asheram.

“That is Commodore Arystek now,” he said. “For the sake of greater transparency, I will share this conversation with this council, but I remind you that you have no authority to issue orders or interfere with the operations of the Yanibar Guard. Your resolution has not yet passed, Asheram. Just let me speak to my subordinates.”

The Rodian glowered at him, but did not reply. Selu pressed the button built into the smooth surface of the large table dominating the Governing Council chambers and two holograms, one of Commodore Arystek, the other of Ryion shimmered into existence above the tabletop to face him.

“Commodore, you first,” Selu told her. “What is the matter?”

“Sir, we arrived at Rishi for extraction of the Yanibar Guard Intelligence team you had assigned us to about an hour ago. Upon reversion from hyperspace, we encountered a Yuuzhan Vong fleet of significantly inferior strength in our path. With conflict unavoidable, we engaged them and moved past them through the planet after inflicting moderate losses.”

Immediately, a flurry of murmuring arose from the other council members, but Selu silenced it with a curt wave of his hand.

“Please continue, Commodore,” Selu said.

“We proceeded to the planet and made contact with both local defenders and the YGI team, sir,” Arystek reported. “The Yuuzhan Vong fleet remained insystem a significant distance away, but we just now realized what they were doing.”

“And that is?” Selu asked.

“Our long-range probes have detected that they are completing a sizeable minefield around Rishi. We haven’t been able to jump anything into hyperspace through the minefield.”

Selu looked over at Sarth.

“Any idea on what it would take to clear an extensive Yuuzhan Vong minefield?” he asked.

Sarth shrugged.

“Imagine a minefield composed of miniature gravity-well projectors each with the shielding of a small cruiser. If there’s only a hundred mines, it could take several days to clear a hyperspace route,” he said. “Yuuzhan Vong mining of hyperspace routes has proven to be more effective than even Clone Wars-era hyperspace mining.”

“There’s more, sir,” Arystek reported. “Hyperspace probes and a message from the Director of Intelligence at Ord Pardron indicate that a Yuuzhan Vong fleet four times our size is heading our way from Ord Pardron, and local intelligence sources have indicated a Peace Brigade fleet about our strength is also inbound. They’ll be here within four days, sir.”

Selu stared dejectedly at her holoprojection, shocked and appalled by the words he was hearing.

“Have you extracted the YGI team?” he asked.

“Not yet, sir,” she told him. “That’s where Elite Kraen comes in. He insisted on talking to you before we extracted him.”

“I see,” Selu replied dryly, turning to Ryion. “And what do you have to say, Ryion, before I have you pulled off that planet? Are you okay?”

“I’m glad the entire council is listening, first off,” Ryion said resolutely. “And yes, I’m fine. The governor and his people have helped me recover from my injuries.”

The younger man took a deep breath before he continued.

“I know you are about to order the Yanibar Guard to extract me from Rishi and then punch through the minefield to escape before enemy reinforcements arrive.”

“Good guess,” Selu said.

“I’d like to recommend an alternate course of action,” Ryion replied. “I recommend that we send reinforcements instead.”

Selu’s jaw dropped in surprise and another round of commotion welled up from the other council members, but he shook his head quickly and regained his composure.

“Out of the question,” he said.

“Hear me out,” Ryion urged. “There are around ten thousand Chalactan refugees and New Republic volunteers here. Another two billion or so Rishian natives. If we leave, they will be almost completely defenseless. They will be enslaved, tortured, murdered, and sacrificed unless we do something.”

Selu’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Selu told him sincerely. “Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do against a force as large as Commodore Arystek has described except die alongside them.”

Ryion scowled at him.

“Let’s pretend for a moment that I do know the full strength of the Yanibar Guard Fleet,” he said. “Which I do. We’re an even match for that fleet when combined with the locals here.”

“And if we force a stalemate and they call for reinforcements, then what? We will have no more reserves,” Selu asked. “We have already risked too many assets on Rishi as it is. Sending the majority of our fleet into a desperate, unwinnable battle is a terrible waste.”

“For one, the fact that the Yuuzhan Vong are sending Peace Brigade forces into combat says that their reserves are heavily depleted from the attack on Coruscant. Furthermore, New Republic defenses at Borleias seem to be tying down a lot of their forces as well.”

“That’s a large assumption and a temporary one at best,” Selu chided him. “If we engage the Yuuzhan Vong in force, they will reply with overwhelming numbers.”

“Not if we don’t let them,” Ryion told him. “Let me take a guess—is Uncle Sarth at that council meeting?”

Selu started in surprise at the accurate deduction, then turned to glance at Sarth, who was obviously unaware of Ryion’s anticipation.

“Yes, he is,” Selu answered.

“Has he spoken about his new discovery yet?” Ryion asked.

“No. I’m guessing that might be a good thing to know about.”

Selu gestured at Sarth.

“Well, he’s right,” Sarth admitted. “The reason I was called to this meeting was because I’d informed the council of a new breakthrough made in the last thirty days. Our research teams have successfully completed testing and final optimization of a new defensive weapon.”

“Do tell,” Selu replied.

“It’s called the dark mass shadow mine and it’s based off of an old superweapon used during the Mandalorian Wars—we call them DMS mines. We recovered the design, miniaturized it, and shrunk it down, and have an initial batch in production.”

“What does it do?”

“Quite simple,” Sarth replied. “When the mine senses a hostile vessel, it activates a series of controlled dark matter explosions that generate a gravity vortex. The vortex destroys anything in its immediate vicinity and creates a region of space inaccessible to hyperspace due to the dark matter residue.”

“How big of a region?”

“In tests, we’ve estimated that a properly-chained series of high-yield mines can turn the greater part of a cubic light year into something utterly inaccessible to hyperspace travel. It’s significantly larger than a planet’s gravity well. The duration depends on a number of factors, including the amount of background antimatter, solar wind, and the amount of dark matter exploded, but it could be up to a couple years.”

“So you’re saying we now have the power to deny anybody access to any system we choose.”

“Provided the mines are positioned properly and aren’t destroyed before they detonate, yes,” Sarth said. “They are a sizable investment—this new batch took most of that recently allocated ten percent budget increase to produce, but the technology is proven.”

“That’s a pretty big breakthrough,” Selu said, awed. “I didn’t realize you were so close.”

“We didn’t either,” Sarth said. “But the pieces just fell into place. We have several of the mines ready for service now.”

“There you have it,” Ryion put in. “We now have the capability to pin the Yuuzhan Vong here and pound them.”

“Except for the part where even if we win, we’re trapped at Rishi for the next couple years,” Selu remarked dryly. “Hope the local cuisine is good.”

“Actually, no,” Sarth told him. “We’ve had a parallel research program conducted to develop countermeasures to the DMS mines. Turns out if you have an antimatter comet pass through the gravity vortex, you can weaken it enough for modified hyperdrives to make short jumps using Force-coordination.”

“And you happen to have a way to draw antimatter comet to a desired location?”

“No, just a handful of antimatter charges that do the same thing,” Sarth told him. “We can punch our own way out with the antimatter charges, then seal it behind us with more DMS mines.”

“Sounds expensive,” Selu observed.

“True, but it’s also very effective,” Sarth said. “You have to have the anti-matter charges pre-positioned on the trapped fleet to aim at the core of the gravity vortex, so sending a relief fleet with the anti-matter would still have to travel or launch their charges at sublight. Once a fleet is trapped by a DMS mine burst, they’re stuck unless they have or can make enough anti-matter to break free. That’d take a couple weeks on an Imperial Star Destroyer with a smart engineering crew, but our analysis of Yuuzhan Vong ships shows that they don’t have the kind of reactors we do. Their propulsion systems are entirely gravity-based. If they can’t escape an interdiction field, they certainly can’t escape a gravity vortex.”

“So you’re telling me we have a weapon that can effectively bottle up any Yuuzhan Vong force for prolonged periods of time?” Selu asked.

“We have a weapon that, if it’s deployed properly and comprehensively, with the element of surprise and without having its delivery interdicted by the enemy, can bottle any Yuuzhan Vong force up for prolonged periods of time.”

“Let’s not forget that unless they have a worldship or a habitable world present in the gravity vortex, the Yuuzhan Vong are not likely to have the consumables to survive more than six months without supplies, which means any ships caught near the center are effectively doomed to a slow death,” Admiral Cyrreso put in.

At this point, Ryion cleared his throat and interjected.

“Members of the council, Kraechar Arms has given us the means to pin down a large force of Yuuzhan Vong and seriously stall their invasion. The plight of Rishi has given us the opportunity to do so. Our motive should be clear. Now I ask you, will you help protect the billions of people on Rishi? We are their only hope.”

“I see how the interventionist ways are passed from father to son,” sneered Asheram at Ryion. “What makes you think that this is our duty to protect these people?"

“What makes you think that it isn’t, Councilor?” Ryion asked. “For years, our refuge has lived by the motto ‘we do what good we can with what we have and where it can be effective.’ We have just gained a lot more with this latest breakthrough and you would have us do the same or less for the people of the galaxy than we have in the past.”

“And the New Republic has no responsibility to protect their own people, or are you advocating that we do their job for them?” Chairman Frelix asked.

“The New Republic may not survive as an entity,” Selu put in. “Intelligence indicates that they are regrouping at Borleias, Kuat, and Mon Calamari, but their ability to mount a successful defense of any world is in serious jeopardy at the moment.”

“They need time and to have some of the Yuuzhan Vong threat diminished,” Ryion argued. “We can buy them that time with a prolonged defense of Rishi and weaken the Yuuzhan Vong by trapping large portions of their fleet there. This may be our opportunity to change the course of this war.”

Ryion turned to look at the other members of the Governing Council.

“The fate of the galaxy could literally be in our hands. This could be our opportunity to stop the Yuuzhan Vong from destroying everything in their path—which eventually includes us.”

“Similar predictions were made of the Empire, young Kraen,” Chairman Frelix reminded him. “They never made it out here, not during the darkest days of Palpatine’s reign. And if the Yuuzhan Vong come here, what is to stop us from using our new weapon to defend our world instead?”

“That depends on how much we care about the five hundred trillion people on worlds between here and there,” Ryion remarked acidly.

“Not to mention that offworld use of such a weapon would draw the Yuuzhan Vong to us as surely as the creation of the voxyn did to the Jedi. The Jedi were forced to destroy the voxyn, but succeeded, paying the price of heavy casualties to eliminate such a grave threat. This weapon would make our world next on the Yuuzhan Vong targeting list if they knew we had it.”

“Our number of Force-users already makes us a target,” Selu pointed out. “Which brings me to another line of inquiry. Ryion, what do you know of Ariada’s wishes for Yanibar Guard involvement against the Yuuzhan Vong?”

Ryion was visibly confused by the change in subject, but answered the question adroitly.

“I know she was in favor of our more active participation,” he said.

“Do you think she would knowingly attract Yuuzhan Vong attention to Yanibar to force us to fight them?” Selu asked.

“Even if she wasn’t locked up, I doubt she would do that,” Ryion answered.

Selu sighed.

“I suppose it’s time you knew. She escaped, Ryion. Several days ago.”

“What?!” Ryion exclaimed.

“She fled offworld and we haven’t been able to track her down yet. Do you know anything about that?”

“No, nothing at all,” Ryion said, shock written all over his face. “How did she do it?”

“Very cleverly,” Selu told him. “We’ll leave it at that. Did she know about the DMS mines? For that matter, how did you know about them?”

“I’ll answer that one,” Sarth replied. “While they were on leave after the Socorro mission, I asked Ryion to help me with testing the DMS mines. We wanted to make sure that our ships could escape from them using the combination of anti-matter mines and Force-based navigation techniques. He agreed to help, but asked that Ariada come along to help him with the computer-work required for precise targeting of the anti-matter charges.”

Selu paled.

“So she knows.”

“I’m afraid so. She had the proper clearances to know about the project. This was all well before she went insane,” Sarth admitted. “I would have told you about our breakthrough, but you’ve been busy recently. The details have been in a memo on your datapad for several days now.”

“All the more reason that we recall our fleet immediately and prepare as stiff of a defense as we can manage behind these mines,” Asheram pronounced firmly.

“No, I don’t think so,” Selu said.

“Explain yourself, please, Master Kraen,” prompted Chairman Frelix.

“No matter what Ariada’s motives towards this refuge are specifically, she stands to gain the most from revealing our existence to the Yuuzhan Vong,” Selu said. “We know she intends to do the Yuuzhan Vong significant harm and wishes for increased Yanibar Guard involvement against the Yuuzhan Vong. If she is still favorably disposed towards this refuge, she would reveal our existence and not the details of these new mines. That would force us to fight the Yuuzhan Vong and likely inflict serious damage on them with our mines.”

“What if she does mean us harm?” Sarth asked.

“That’s the scarier scenario. Then she tells not only of our existence, but also the details of the DMS mine project. In that case, the Yuuzhan Vong would likely muster their largest possible fleet and destroy Yanibar and all instances of the DMS mine technology, or blockade this planet until they can devise a suitable countermeasure. At which point they would destroy us.”

“A frightening scenario indeed, Master Kraen,” Chairman Frelix said. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting. . .” Selu said slowly, then paused as the gravity of what he was about to say caught up with him.

He took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and tried again.

“I’m saying that we need to assume the worst regarding Ariada. We need to locate and confine her as quickly as possible, but right now, we have a strategic advantage on the Yuuzhan Vong with this new mine system with a very limited window of opportunity, assuming Ariada intends to leak its details.”

“You are not actually suggesting. . .?” Asheram started, unable to finish his thought for incredulity.

“Yes,” Selu said. “I think Ryion is right. If we are going to survive this war, we need to pin down as many Yuuzhan Vong over Rishi as we can with this new weapon, and then defend Yanibar from the coming onslaught. Hopefully, the time we buy over Rishi will allow Sarth and his team to develop new defenses. We might even get relief from the New Republic.”

“That is a very risky proposition,” Chairman Frelix pointed out. “We would be risking the bulk of our fleet in a pre-emptive strike.”

“I know,” Selu said. “It’s risky, but at the same time, it’s less risky than waiting for a Yuuzhan Vong fleet to show up here and obliterate Yanibar. If Ariada divulges our mine technology, we cannot win in battle here. If she doesn’t, we stand a better chance of engaging them over Rishi before they know what they are facing. A decisive battle at Rishi would slow their advance enough to give us time to prepare for their eventual invasion here, as well as give us enough time to mine this system.”

“I see,” Frelix replied. “Are there any other arguments on this point?”

Asheram sat in stunned silence, as did his nominal allies. In fact, as Selu surveyed the room, it seemed that most of the Councilors were too overwhelmed by what they had just heard to respond verbally.

“No arguments from me,” Selu said, then turned to Ryion and Commodore Arystek. “Thank you for your time. We will contact you soon with new orders. Hold position.”

The conversation terminated and both holograms disappeared.

“If the debate is over, I propose we take it to a vote,” Admiral Cyrreso put in.

“What specifically do you want to vote on?” Frelix asked. “There has been no proposal.”

She smiled weakly and pressed her transmit button, sending a freshly-drafted document to the other councilors’ datapads.

“This is a resolution authorizing the deployment of a sizable Yanibar Guard force to Rishi to engage the Yuuzhan Vong and pin as many of them as possible into place with our available technology. The defense of Rishi will last for up to forty standard days, which is how long I’m advised it would take to deploy proper defenses around Yanibar and its key interests. The resolution calls for emergency powers to be given to the Yanibar Guard and its command structure, wide flexibility and discretion be afforded to the Yanibar Guard in terms of authorization, and emergency funding of both Kraechar Arms and the Yanibar Guard for a period of at least sixty standard days. Extension and evaluation of all conduct occurring during this period may only be considered by the council at the most three days before its expiration.”

“You will never pass this,” Asheram vowed adamantly. “I shall call for a vote of no confidence in both of your leadership.”

“Our leadership was instrumental in the formation of this refuge,” Admiral Cyrreso shot back. “Our leadership got us through the Zannist invasion. Our leadership has allowed this refuge to survive years of Imperial domination. Our leadership allowed us to broker a treaty with the New Republic. Call your vote, Councilor.”

“Order, please,” Frelix insisted mildly. “In accordance with the rules of precedence, the emergency resolution proposed by Admiral Cyrreso must be voted on before any other votes may be considered. Is there any other debate desired on this resolution?”

“No debate necessary,” Asheram said. “Let us vote and dismiss this foolish notion once everyone has read it.”

“Second the motion on voting immediately,” Admiral Cyrreso added. “But without the bit on foolish notions.”

“Read and vote as you will then,” Frelix said. “You have one hour. The vote will be decided by a simple majority since it clearly qualifies as an emergency wartime measure.”

Selu sat back and watched as the councilors broke up, clustering in small groups to discuss the resolution. The natural cavern that the room had been made out was equipped with acoustic damping to limit whispers from echoing, but Selu could sense the anxiety flowing through the group. In contrast with the muted, natural lighting of the room and its soft décor, the atmosphere with thick with tension. The solemnity of the chamber was broken by the aura of agitation and worry emanating from many of its occupants.

For his part, Selu was content to observe and contemplate the outcome. He had been impressed by the admiral’s quick drafting of the resolution and her words in favor of action. A large holographic display next to the chairman’s seat showed how many votes were in favor and how many against the resolution, along with a brief description of the matter in question. He wrapped himself in his long black cloak and waited for the silent discussions and conversations to finish. Slowly, the votes began to tally as each delegate reached their conclusions and submitted their vote. Most of the initial votes were negative and Selu caught the look of disgust from Asheram as the Rodian made a show of pressing his voting button. Still, there seemed to be a slow but steady influx of votes in favor that were evening out the tally. Dread filled Selu as he wondered what the outcome would be. To calm his nerves and distract him, he pulled up the memo Sarth had sent him and read the details of the DMS project in the meantime. He would vote at the very end.

When all was said and done, the tally was clear. Out of the sixteen councilors present, eight had voted against and seven had voted in favor of the resolution. The numbers prompted Asheram to look pityingly at Selu, who had kept his face deliberately passive throughout the entire voting process.

“Jedi Kraen, it seems the resolution will fail,” he said. “By our procedures, any vote that ends in a tie and has quorum is considered a failure.”

Selu looked up from his reading as if Asheram’s words were news to him.

“Is that so?” he asked.

“It is,” Asheram assured him. “I’m surprised that this is new to you, given your many years of leadership.”

“Oh, I’m not surprised by the existence of the rule,” Selu told him. “I’m surprised that you’ve forgotten how many councilors there are.”

“Only councilors in attendance matter,” Asheram reminded Selu. “Director Kraen might support your cause, but she is not here.”

“That’s right, she’s not,” Selu said. “But, I do have this.”

He withdrew a slender voucher from inside his cloak and slid it on the table to Chairman Frelix. The brown-skinned Muun opened it and examined it closely.

“What is that?” Asheram demanded.

“It is a delegation of authority by proxy voucher, signed and sealed by Director of Intelligence Milya Tayrce Kraen,” Frelix explained. “Dated within five days ago.”

“I can’t guarantee its authenticity since I don’t even know what Milya’s sigil of authenticity is,” Selu told him—which was entirely true. “Only the chairman knows that.”

“It is authentic,” Frelix confirmed. “And it delegates her voting power to Supreme Commander Selusda Kraen until her return and confirmation of responsibility to this council.”

“That gives me two votes,” Selu told Asheram, hitting the “in favor” button twice, confirming both for himself and Milya.

Frelix looked at the total and then pronounced the result for the record.

“The resolution passes, nine to eight,” he said. “The Yanibar Guard is now empowered to act with discretion in conducting a remote defensive operation at Rishi and prepare this refuge’s defenses against possible Yuuzhan Vong invasion. The entire emergency fund is now at the disposal of the Yanibar Guard.”

Asheram was clearly seething, but restrained himself.

“You have won the votes in the council to pass your resolution, Jedi Kraen,” he said in a low voice. “You have sixty days. Make good use of them and pray we do not regret giving you this power.”

With that, he and the rest of the dissenting councilors left in a huff, preventing a quorum from being achieved so no new business could be discussed. Frelix adjourned the meeting after a quick vote to hold the others in contempt and most of the councilors left. That was fine with Selu anyway. He turned to Admiral Cyrreso and General Sha-ki-noon.

“Hasla, I want you to have the entire main fleet and the second squadron ready to debark in two days. General, I want full group troop complements on her ships and three extra brigades on transports as well.” “Aye, sir,” she said. “Will you be accompanying us?”

Selu hesitated. On the one hand, his presence at Rishi could be very significant, both in terms of contribution and overall morale for the Yanibar Guard force. On the other hand, if he left, he would not be able to devote himself to chasing down Ariada. In the end, though, the greater good won out.

“I’m coming,” Selu said. “But I want you two running your respective commands. I won’t try and micro-manage the fleet or the army. You are more than qualified for the job and in the event that I have to leave or take on a special mission, I want there to be no issues with the transition.”

“Worried about Ariada?” the admiral asked.

“Very much so,” Selu confessed. “Is there anything else?”

“No, sir,” they both told him.

“Dismissed, then,” he said. “I know the fleet and army are on high alert already, but there’s a lot to do for a deployment of this magnitude. See if you can coordinate with Open Hands and get a group from them to bring supplies and personnel to handle the refugees that will accumulate on Rishi.”

They saluted and departed, leaving Selu alone with Sarth.

“I should start reading my memos more promptly,” Selu said ruefully.

“I’m sorry, Selu. I should have told you earlier, but you were so busy, and I knew getting Ryion up to where he could function again after Ariada took a lot of your time. I didn’t want to distract you.”

Selu made a dismissive gesture.

“Don’t worry about it. It was a surprise, but I adapted. What have we done though? We’re taking half the Guard to a planet a dozen sectors from here to fight an enemy more savage than even the Empire?”

“You’re doing the right thing.”

“Am I?”

“I know at least two billion people who will thank you.”

“And another eight million here will pay the price if we fail. Even if we succeed, the Vong could still hit here while the fleet is away.”

Sarth placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder reassuringly.

“I’ll get the mines deployed here as quickly as possible. Yanibar will be safe from the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“And yet Ariada is the skifter in the deck,” Selu reminded him. “The fate of our very existence could rest in the hands of an angry, confused twenty-four-year-old young woman.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go after her?” Sarth asked.

“I do, but I’m needed more at Rishi. She could be anywhere in the galaxy by now. I could spend years searching and never find her.”

“Then let her go, Selu. She is not your responsibility and you can’t take the blame for her fall. You need to trust in yourself and in the Force.”

“And to an extent in Ariada.”

“She doesn’t hate this place, Selu. She disliked our doctrine, disliked the inaction, but she was always very proud of Yanibar and what we’ve accomplished here. Her friends are here. Her family is here.”

“I don’t think that’s enough of a reason for her to spare us, Sarth. She’s fallen deep into the dark side.”

“She’ll pay the consequences for it, but that’ll happen in its own time. Right now, you need to focus on defeating a Yuuzhan Vong fleet in an even fight on unfamiliar turf. Then you can come back and deal with Ariada.”

“Of course, you’re right. Are there any other memos I should know about?”

“Actually, yes. We have some new weapons that our development teams have finished work on. Stockpiles are being loaded onto the transports for use by the Yanibar Guard. The full manifest is here. I think you’ll find a lot of them particularly effective.”

“I couldn’t have done this without you, Sarth,” Selu told him. “If it wasn’t for your mines, we’d be racing to extract Arystek’s fleet, not setting up an ambush for the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“We all do our parts,” Sarth said. “I’m going to personally oversee the minelaying operations here, at our resource-gathering worlds, and at Revan’s Tower. It’ll get done if we have to work round-the-clock shifts to make it happen.”

“Thank you. There is just one last thing, though.”

“Name it.”

“J7. He took a beating protecting Cassi. I told him that we’d get him fixed up.”

“My pleasure. I think I owe it to him.”

Selu smiled gratefully at his brother.

“Thank you again, Sarth.”

“Be careful over there, Selu.”

Selu rose and embraced Sarth.

“I will.”


 * The next day

Sarth Kraen slowly slid the speeder to a halt in front of the apartment building in a less-prestigious neighborhood in Union City. The structure itself was a dull coral color, but streaked with grime. There was a faint odor emanating from a set of leaky pipes and trash littered the parking area. One of the glowlamps mounted flanking the door appeared to be broken as well—the place was clearly rundown. Sarth sighed. In many ways, the status of the building was applicable to the person inside it whom he had come to see.

Climbing out of the vehicle, he entered the main door and walked up three flights of stairs—the building didn’t even have a turbovator—before stopping at his destination. The apartment door he paused in front of was scuffed and worn, the teal paint fading in places. Undaunted, Sarth rapped lightly on the door.

“Who’s it?” came the slurred reply from within.

“It’s your—it’s Sarth.”

Having to refer to himself in this way to the person inside the apartment was painful to Sarth, but he accepted it. Using his preferred moniker might actually hurt more once he saw him again.

“Come in.”

Sarth opened the door and entered an apartment that was clearly in disarray. Empty food containers littered the floor, mingling with old clothes and an occasional bottle. The place smelled somewhat better than the rest of the apartment building, but it had clearly deteriorated. He ventured further into the apartment, knowing where he would find its occupant.

Sure enough, he was there, slumped over in a chair at the dull black kitchen table, a bottle clutched in one hand, staring blearily ahead of him with blood-shot eyes. He was still wearing a long green coat, but the man was utterly disheveled. His clothes were rumpled and splattered with liquid from the bottle. His blond hair was severely mussed and he was wearing only one shoe, having kicked the other across the room. It was because Sarth had known him before his current state of abject misery and inebriation that the pain Sarth felt upon seeing him was so intense. That, and one other reason.

“Hello, son,” Sarth said.

Akleyn Kraen turned slowly to regard his father standing there, his expression devoid of intelligence.

“Hi,” he replied. “Get you a drink?”

“No, that’s okay,” Sarth said, sliding into a seat across from his son.

Akleyn gave him an insolent smile.

“I bet you’d like to say I’m looking better today, wouldn’t?” he asked.

Sarth gave no immediate answer, so his intoxicated son plowed on.

“But I’m not, and we both know it. Prognosis poor, treatment unsuccessful.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Sarth replied mildly.

“Are you going to be angry, pitying, or consoling today, Dad?” Akleyn asked bluntly.

Akleyn was probably a little drunk, but he was still in full control of his senses. He also was capable of intelligent conversation, albeit one laden in self-misery, despair, and crankiness. Unfortunately, that was about it.

Sarth bit his lip, choosing his next words carefully.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing,” he answered in the same neutral tone.

“Well, you see me,” Akleyn muttered. “Probably better that you don’t tell Mom.”

“She’s worried about you. We both are,” Sarth said earnestly.

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Akleyn, you’ve been like this for over five years now,” Sarth half-pleaded with him. “Don’t you think it’s enough?”

Akleyn glared at him with his reddened eyes.

“I’ll have you know, Dad, that I am one of the most respected physicians on Yanibar and that my career has soared in the last five years. You never ask me about that, but I’ve done quite well there.”

“And every night, you come home and get drunk,” Sarth finished. “Just like you’ve done since—,”

“Don’t,” Akleyn warned him. “I don’t want to hear her name.”

The name he didn’t want to hear was Callista, a former Jedi Knight who had lost her Force powers. Akleyn had met her in a chance meeting on Bakura. Intrigued by and attracted to her, he had offered to help her with his own knowledge of healing and Force techniques. She had agreed and joined him on Yanibar for years, working with him in intense, demanding therapy to help restore her connection to the Force. Akleyn had poured his life into helping cure her and devoted himself to his relationship with her, even as she remained ever so slightly elusive.

In the end, he had succeeded on one front and been devastated on the other. Akleyn and the other Force-healers helping him had managed to restore Callista’s connection to the Force, and that had sparked a new intensity in Akleyn and Callista’s relationship. And it had seemed to, for about a month. Then Callista had left suddenly, departing Yanibar after having secretly made arrangements to do so. She had left a note that simply said “I am sorry” as her only farewell, and the emotional shock had devastated Akleyn.

Sarth and Cassi had tried to help Akleyn through the rough patch, but their son was inconsolable. He had buried himself into his work, adopting a veneer of a competent but gruff surgeon by day. At night, though, he would drive off into the desert and let his grief echo through the Force, or else find a local cantina to drown his woes in. Eventually, his grief faded and the cantinas stopped letting him in after his actions while drunk got him kicked out. So now he just dulled his senses in the confines of his apartment, trying to numb himself to human emotion as much as possible and festering in bitterness. His friends and family had tried to coax him out of his alcoholic state, but he had insulted many of them and rejected those that refused to be offended by his caustic words.

“Akleyn, it’s time to let her go,” Sarth said gently, laying a hand on his son’s arm. “You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t let her ruin that.”

Well, relatively young, Sarth considered. ''As long as mid-thirties was still considered young. ''

“She came here looking for answers to questions,” Akleyn commented. “And together, we found them. And now she’s gone, and I’m the one looking for answers to questions.”

He gave Sarth a hollow look that bespoke the emptiness within him.

“But there are no answers to my questions. She’s gone, her memory of this place wiped away, so even if I found her, she wouldn’t be able to tell me anything.”

Akleyn was referring to the practice of using memory-wiping ylannock compounds to remove the memory of the Yanibar refuge from anyone who left it permanently. It was one of the colony’s most valued laws and the records showed that Callista had indeed been memory-wiped before her sudden departure.

“Maybe the answer is that the question isn’t so important,” Sarth suggested. “She had pain and memories that went back decades before you found her, Akleyn. Maybe your breakthrough allowed her to find what she needed to resolve them.”

“She could have asked for my help,” Akleyn told him. “I would have been by her side if she had just asked.”

“I can’t speak for her,” Sarth replied. “But she knew that. She may have also thought she was asking too much of you.”

“I can be the judge of what is too much,” Akleyn growled. “I don’t need you here lecturing me.”

“I’m sorry,” Sarth replied, beating a hasty retreat. “We can talk about something else.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s on a mission,” Sarth said. “She’s helping Milya with something.”

“Good for her,” Akleyn replied. “Mom always was out to save the galaxy, one lost soul at a time. Guess she figured that if she couldn’t save her drunken son, she could go save someone else’s.”

“She hasn’t given up on you and neither have I,” Sarth told him quietly.

“Not yet,” Akleyn said, taking another swig from the bottle. “I can tell when things are on life support. Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

“Akleyn, what would it take to get you off of life support? What do you need to get you out of this five-year slump you’ve wallowed in?”

Akleyn cocked his head at Sarth, but just stared blankly at him for a moment, then took another gulp from the bottle of brandy in his hand.

“You used to want to do something with your life,” Sarth said. “Then she left you and all that fell through. So what do you want now?”

“More brandy,” Akleyn told him, imbibing again. “I’m getting my wish.”

Sarth sighed.

“I’m going to ask you to do something for me,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“I want you to put yourself aside for a while,” Sarth told him. “Forget about your career. Forget about the ache inside you that stays there no matter how much you drink. I want you to do something for someone other than yourself.”

Akleyn glowered at him.

“Every day, I go to work and do things for other people,” he said. “I am a healer and a doctor and a surgeon.”

“But you do those things to show how good you are and because it’s expected of you,” Sarth told him. “I’ve seen you. You don’t care about those people—you care about their wellbeing only because it gets you acclaim and respect and it reminds you of when you were something better.”

Sarth leaned toward Akleyn so he could look directly into his eyes.

“I want you to be something better again.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Sarth was quick to reply.

“Because deep down, I think you’re tired of being miserable. I think you’d rather feel that your life was meaningful again.”

“Not interested.”

“Not interested, or not willing?”

“Does it matter?”

“You know, I once had a doctor tell me that the hardest thing as a physician was dealing with a patient who didn’t want to be cured. You could tell them a thousand times that their wound was infected and they didn’t care. They didn’t want to be helped, they didn’t want to be told what to do or heal the wound if it would cause discomfort in the short term. Do you know who told me that?”

“I’m sure it was me judging by your tone, but I hope you don’t expect me to remember that.”

“You have a holographic memory.”

“So do you, and yet you seem to have forgotten that I’m drunk,” Akleyn said, gulping more brandy.

Sarth stared unwaveringly at him.

“Fine, yes, I said that,” Akleyn relented grumpily. “It’s obvious you have something in mind, or else you wouldn’t have stopped by. What is it?”

“I heard there’s an Open Hands convoy going to Rishi and they’re looking for medical volunteers to help in the refugee camps. I think it’d be good for you to get away for a bit and I know they could use your skills.”

“You want me to go offworld and volunteer?” Akleyn replied incredulously, his voice laced with skepticism.

“I want you to take yourself away from a place loaded down with too many old memories and wounds,” Sarth said. “I want you to go to a place where you can be yourself again, where you can help people and appreciate the impact of what you’re doing.”

Akleyn sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “I suppose I can do that.”

Sarth blinked, surprised by his son’s easy acquiescence.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Akleyn said. “If nothing else, this will get you off my case. But when I come back and I’m exactly the same, I want you to do me a favor.”

“If you come back the same,” Sarth corrected, “what do you want?”

“I want you to leave me the kriff alone,” Akleyn told him, his eyes narrowed angrily. “If I want to spend the rest of my life like this, that’s my choice. I don’t want or need you telling me what to do. Just let me live how I want to live.”

His words were deeply painful to Sarth, rending his heart as he heard his son vocalize his rejection, but he suffered them silently. He would accomplish nothing by getting angry or despairing of saving his son from his self-created shell of misery and isolation.

“Your mother and I will always love you, Akleyn, and we will always want to connect with you” he said. “And if our continued relationship means that we don’t talk about your life choices unless you want to, then so be it.”

“Good,” Akleyn grunted.

“The Open Hands mission should last between thirty and sixty days,” Sarth informed him.

“And it leaves three days from now. I know,” Akleyn said. “They told us about it at work this afternoon.”

Sarth was surprised, though in retrospect he realized he shouldn’t have been.

“Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for while you’re away,” he told him. “If there’s anything I can do for you before you go, just let me know.”

“Thanks, Dad. It’s so much fun talking with you again,” Akleyn replied sarcastically.

Sarth gave him a tight, brief smile, taking his words at face value and as a cue to leave.

“May the Force be with you, Akleyn,” he said. “I love you.”

Then he rose and walked out of the door, leaving Akleyn behind, staring at his father as he left. The door closed behind Sarth creakily and Akleyn was left to stew in his own juices. He took another swig of the brandy, sighing as the fiery liquid ran down his esophagus, and shook his head.

“What is it with our family and lost causes?” he asked, holding up the brandy bottle to look at it in search of an answer.

Sadly, the bottle yielded no response, so he resigned himself to indulging in more of its contents until he forgot the question he had asked. With any luck, the brandy would help him forget he’d ever had this conversation, though he doubted Sarth would let it slide. Maybe a trip offworld would be good for him, help him regain himself. He realized what he had just thought and quickly snorted in disgust. He clearly wasn’t drunk enough yet, but he knew the exact prescription to cure that ailment. Akleyn took another shot of the brandy and smiled drunkenly. The treatment wouldn’t take long.