Force Exile V: Warrior/Part 11

22
Selusda Kraen watched from his position by the holoboard as officers filed into the tactical command room that the Yanibar Guard had constructed on Rishi. The already tight confines of the room were soon inundated with military personnel, standing room only, as Selu knew it would be for a debriefing of this magnitude. In the back, he could also see the viceroy, Rishi’s governor, their defense chiefs, Hobbie, and Kyle Katarn squeezing in.

“If everyone’s here, we’ll begin,” Selu said, pausing to let the room quiet down. “As I’m sure we’re all aware, the Yanibar Guard, operating in conjunction with Colonel Klivian’s volunteers and the local defense forces, executed a mass evacuation of the town of Junro. Simultaneously, our forces in space conducted a quick strike against the Peace Brigade fleet, diminishing it considerably. In my opinion, this was a mixed success.”

He paused again, letting his eyes bounce over each person in the room. Behind him, a YGI officer controlled the holoprojector, switching between various holos that depicted phases of the operation.

“We brought 19,117 people from Junro to the main refugee camps. However, we paid a steep price. The Guard lost 318 soldiers, with another 56 unaccounted for. Well over two thousand were wounded. Another 417 personnel from our allies were lost also. Thousands of droids were sacrificed to delay the Yuuzhan Vong. The casualty rate was lower than it could have been, but it was still high. Moreover, we were required to use certain weapons which we might have otherwise saved for a more decisive strike.”

Selu gestured and the YGI officer switched the holo to captured footage of a Hope Strike blast. The room’s occupants watched the holo progress, showing the bomb fall and detonate, leaving a wide swathe of destruction in its wake.

“This is a Heavy Ordnance Precision Explosive, or Hope Strike. It’s a highly destructive vapor bomb and everything we’ve seen from the Yuuzhan Vong or learned about from the files we received from General Antilles suggests they have no defense against it. We used eight of them against the Yuuzhan Vong today, with moderate success. Against a more concentrated force and with the element of surprise, we could have achieved tenfold results.”

“And would such a thing be desirable?” the governor asked, clearly aghast.

Selu frowned.

“What do you mean, Governor?”

“Look at the destruction your weapons caused. Thousands of dead, forests decimated, streams evaporated.”

“The governor is right,” Viceroy Berecca agreed. “Master Kraen, do you intend to win this war at the cost of this planet?”

Selu was confused, caught off guard by the sudden challenge.

“No,” he said quickly. “There are no long-lasting effects of the Hope Strike weapons and the destruction is fairly localized.”

“There’s a two-hundred kilometer stretch from here to Junro that might disagree with you,” the governor put in acidly.

“What’s your point?”

“While we are truly grateful for your assistance, Master Kraen, I—we were not prepared for this kind of devastation,” the governor said. “In the event we defeat the Yuuzhan Vong, I would like to live somewhere other than smoldering ruins.”

“Perhaps we should focus on that after we defeat the Yuuzhan Vong,” Hasla remarked mildly.

“Let’s suppose for a minute that our combined forces can repulse the Yuuzhan Vong,” the governor said. “But if the surface of Rishi is ruined during the assault, then you and your people leave, where does that leave us? I must think of our future.”

“A future that won’t exist if the Yuuzhan Vong win,” Hasla reminded him.

“Which begs the question, then: to what extents are you willing to go to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong?” Viceroy Berecca asked.

“That’s a military secret,” Selu said uncomfortably. “Suffice to say, we would not consider the destruction of both Rishi’s habitable areas and the Yuuzhan Vong forces as a victory.”

“Then I ask that you not be such a large party to destroying those habitable areas,” the governor said. “Specifically, these Hope Strike weapons. “You’re literally leveling areas the size of small towns with each one of these.”

Selu gaped, in shock that these two would try and place demands on him and the Yanibar Guard. As he stood there, another YGI officer slipped in and gave him a datapad, which he hastily perused, his eyes widening further as he did so.

“May I point out to you that it was use of those weapons that saved nearly twenty thousand people?” General Rayven asked from his corner of the room.

“For now,” the governor countered. “But when food shortages hit after so much arable land is ruined, I don’t think they’ll be too grateful.”

“We are conducting a military operation,” Hasla answered, injecting an edge into her voice. “It would be best if you two would let the military leaders make the necessary decisions to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong.”

The governor matched her steely gaze with a cool stare of his own.

“And it would be best for you to remember that you are guests on this world—or are you occupiers now?”

“I will not stand for this subversion,” General Rayven glowered. “We are doing what we have to in order to save your people.”

“By destroying our homeworld? Clearly, the people of Alderaan must then also be grateful to the Empire,” the governor said, employing the acerbic wit that had allowed him to triumph over his electoral rivals in the last three elections.

“That’s it,” the general snapped. “Sergeant, remove these men from my conference room.”

“Belay that,” Selu said from where he’d been standing motionless by the holoprojector, watching the argument unfold. “Do you two mean that you expect to have some kind of veto power over what my forces can and cannot do on this world?”

“When it’s our world, I should think I’m entitled to such considerations,” the governor replied haughtily.

“Then I hope the Yuuzhan Vong give you that same privilege,” Selu said acidly.

“Gentlemen, please. We are not asking to second-guess your decisions,” the viceroy pointed out to Selu, seeking to ease the tension. “Our request is simply that the long-term welfare of Rishi be considered in your decision-making process, particularly with the use of such destructive weapons as you seem to have.”

“Today it’s vapor bombs. What’s tomorrow? Radioactive clouds? Sentient minefields? Biogenic weapons?” the governor demanded.

“Governor, please, the hyperbole is not constructive,” the viceroy said. “What Commander Kraest has done is nothing on the scale that you make it out to be.”

The aged Chalactan turned his attention back on Selu.

“Do you at least understand our perspective?”

“I do,” Selu admitted. “And as much as it galls me, I’m willing to concede.”

He held up a hand quickly to stifle protests from his officers.

“Partially.”

“What do you mean?” the governor asked suspiciously.

“I will refrain from using our more. . . destructive weapons in the defense of Rishi’s populace,” Selu said. “However, when it comes to defending my people, I will use whatever means are necessary.”

That didn’t quite seem to satisfy the governor, but he eventually nodded slowly in consent.

“That’s reasonable,” he said.

“And one other thing,” Selu added sharply. “No more evacuations. No more mercy missions across hundreds of kilometers of rugged terrain, fighting Vong every step of the way. If you’re going to curtail the scope of my operations, I don’t feel obligated to order my men to die for your people.”

That earned him approving looks from his military brass and shocked ones from the viceroy and the governor of Rishi.

“How can you just abandon the people of this world like that?” the viceroy asked.

“I’m not abandoning this world,” Selu countered. “We’re not going anywhere just yet. The Yuuzhan Vong are after the Chalactan refugees. It’s logical that they will focus their attention here, where the vast majority of the Chalactans are, and we will defend here as long as necessary.”

“You may have just condemned millions of people to Yuuzhan Vong captivity or worse,” the governor said, glowering at Selu.

“A fate that was just as likely before we arrived,” Selu pointed out. “We both have our priorities, Governor.”

“And apparently my people don’t rate very high on your list,” the governor said.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Admiral Cyrreso replied. “If we didn’t care about your people, we would never have stayed here.”

“That’s nonsense. You clearly have your own agenda,” the governor said. “And you’re clearly not willing to do a whole lot for us.”

“Perhaps because we’re being limited by a pompous windbag,” General Rayven fired in testily from across the room.

“That will do, General,” Selu cut him off. “Governor, if you want to use your forces and any volunteers from Colonel Klivian’s forces or the Chalactans for such long-range missions, that is your privilege. However, the Guard will not directly participate in such ventures. Today’s was foolhardy enough. Subsequent attempts would be even riskier.”

“Thank you for showing your true colors,” the governor said stiffly. “So glad to have friends who are sympathetic to our plight.”

“You’re asking for a military impossibility,” Selu told him bluntly. “And I will not be swayed into joining foolhardy expeditions that will only cost more lives. This discussion is over.”

“I will not stand for this,” the governor protested.

Selu took one step forward.

“Governor, you can either let us do what we came here to do, or you can ask us to leave.”

“And if neither of those options appeal to me?” he asked.

“Your other options involve committing an act of war against the Guard or attempting to negotiate with the Yuuzhan Vong,” Selu told him. “If you think either of those would best serve your people, take them at your own peril.”

He turned to address all the other officers in the room.

“I’ll provide a more thorough debriefing on the tactical outcome of our operation later in a more appropriate setting. Meeting adjourned. I’ll need the room.”

The governor looked like he was about to spew some other retort, but Selu gestured to the sergeant standing at attention near the door, who took the governor by the arm and escorted him and his party through the exit.

Once Selu was alone, he pulled out his comlink and placed a call. Two minutes later, Morgedh clan Kel’nerh entered the room as silently as he always did.

“Did you receive the news?” Selu asked him.

“Yes,” Morgedh answered gravely. “Ariada’s attack on Revan’s Tower is an ominous sign.”

“Where would she go next?” Selu inquired. “If she’s trying to hurt us, what are her options?”

“She could attempt to strike at Bexpress Shipping on Bespin,” Morgedh said. “However, given that the resources of her new allies seem to include warships, we cannot rule out her arriving over Yanibar.”

Selu nodded slowly.

“This is going to need one of us to deal with it.”

“We both knew that before we came here.”

“I just didn’t think it would require us that soon. I thought we had more time,” Selu said sorrowfully, shaking his head.

“Ariada has always been more capable than she let on,” Morgedh told him. “Nobody would have guessed she could escape Haxares. Or break into a secure data cluster. We have underestimated her at our own risk.”

“So how do we stop her?” Selu asked.

“We don’t,” Morgedh said simply. “I do. She cannot hide from me forever.”

“And of the other dark presences that Sarth sensed?”

“Have I ever failed you?” Morgedh asked. “You are needed here, Selu. I saw the debriefing. Only you kept the partnership between the local forces and the Yanibar Guard intact.”

“Not in a very peaceable fashion,” Selu said disapprovingly. “Neither side is particularly happy with me right now.”

“But they are both still working together,” Morgedh pointed out. “That is why you must be here, to preserve the partnership in ways that I cannot. And to keep an eye on Ryion.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” Selu asked quickly.

“I am not sure, but I sense much conflict in him. . . and a second agenda,” Morgedh said. “He would not tell me about it, nor could I dissuade him. You might fare better.”

“Do you think he is working with Ariada?” Selu inquired.

“No, I sensed nothing but openness mingled with hurt and betrayal when I inquired about her,” Morgedh said. “I worry more about him doing something rash.”

“Like what?” Selu asked.

“Like something his father would do at that age,” Morgedh replied.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Selu answered grimly, then he clapped Morgedh on the shoulder.

“Good hunting, my friend.”

“I will deal with this threat to Yanibar,” Morgedh told him, “and attempt to leave young Ariada alive—if possible.”

“I understand,” Selu said. “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you,” Morgedh replied. “I understand the mine deployment plan is ready.”

“That’s right,” Selu answered. “We’re set to deploy in five days. Just enough time to get our forces rested. This might just end this fight.”

“Let us hope so,” Morgedh said. “It will be a long night.”

With that, the Noghri warrior turned, his cloak swirling around him, as he silently exited the room.


 * Yuuzhan Vong Grand Cruiser ''Bloodthirster

“Where did your infidel fleet come from?” Tsaruuk demanded from the captive, who moaned as the Embrace of Pain she was suspended in tightened, stretching her shoulders to the point of dislocation. “Tell me!”

The prisoner, though bedraggled, disheveled and in obvious pain judging from her contorted face, nevertheless managed to muster up an appropriate glare of defiance for the Yuuzhan Vong warrior towering over her.

“Captain Ashli Tar-sonis, personnel number 17945,” she said.

Tsaruuk sneered and unloaded a punch to her mouth. She spat blood and a dislodged tooth onto the fleshy deck of the ship, but remained silent. Tsaruuk shook his head in disgust and turned to his spectators. There were forty-seven of them, captured during the evacuation of Junro. Many of them were fighters, who had largely needed to be knocked unconscious and dragged away before being stripped of their armor and weapons. However, one enterprising troop of warriors had managed to infiltrate the refugee camp and seize several of the infidels, smuggling them out through a tunnel. These had shown less fight and so Tsaruuk had opted to interrogate them more forcefully. Based on his preliminary inquisitions and what he knew of infidel ranking systems, it was likely that this Human woman was the highest-ranking officer his warriors had seized. So now here she was, suspended in the Embrace of Pain while the rest of the infidels struggled against the blorash jelly binding them, watching helplessly as she was tortured.

“Such resistance is pointless,” Tsaruuk told her. “It is quite obvious that you and your comrades are too weak to stand against the Yuuzhan Vong.”

Glaring at him through strands of twisted, dirty hair that hung down over her face, the captain gave no reply.

“This is clear to me because you allowed yourselves to be captured. A Yuuzhan Vong does not allow himself to be captured,” Tsaruuk continued. “Perhaps you are thinking of rescue? Know this: such an attempt would cost a hundredfold more lives than I hold here in my hand and still fail.”

She shook her head, gasping as the Embrace of Pain now wrenched her ankles in a direction they were never intended to go.

“Perhaps you are thinking of killing me?” Tsaruuk said with a slight chuckle. “I assure you, I could kill you with one hand.”

His arm shot out to grab her around her throat.

“And I just might,” he said. “Answer me truthfully, and I will kill you swiftly, with a warrior’s death. Refuse to submit, and I will cut you to pieces slowly in front of your comrades.”

“Then get it over with,” she told him lazily. “I haven’t got all day.”

“But I do, Captain,” Tsaruuk said, brandishing a coufee. “I do.”


 * Jebuan system

“Well, we’re here,” Jorge announced as the Silent Surprise pierced the shell nebula surrounding the system. “Not a whole lot to see, though.” “Any signs of a hyperroute leading out of here?” Milya asked.

“No,” he said, surveying the sensor data. “High radiation levels and large hyperspace eddies from the shell nebula are disrupting hyperspace travel. In ten thousand years, we’ll be lucky to be able to get into this system at all.”

“What about if the shell nebula wasn’t here?” Cassi put in. “Is it the only thing disrupting hyperspace travel?”

“What are you thinking?” Annita inquired.

“What if the map was made before the star blew off its outer layers?” Cassi asked.

“The original survey from Samtel and Lena said that the planet had sophisticated animal and plant life. You wouldn’t expect that to have evolved within 38,000 years,” Annita replied.

“Sure, the nebula existed, but maybe its effects on hyperspace travel weren’t as severe then. Can you see what the hyperchart shows without the nebula’s effects?”

“I can try,” Jorge said. “I’ll have to build a filter for it.”

He fiddled with the ship’s computer. After an hour of profanity, tinkering, and a constant flurry of fuzzy symbols on the screen, he finally leaned back in his chair.

“It’s far from perfect, and I don’t think the Surprise likes me much any more,” Jorge said. “This might be a reasonable representation.”

He toggled a switch and a holoprojection appeared, showing two threads leading away from the system.

“Looks like a second hyperroute,” he said. “The nebula’s cut off its entrance, but if we leave the nebula and try to jump to hyperspace, we might find it.”

“And if we don’t?” Milya asked, one eyebrow arched.

“Then we could end up on the far side of the galaxy thousands of years in the future. Or the engines could explode. Or the hyperdrive will fail, leaving us stranded over a remote world. Hard to say, really,” Jorge answered casually.

“Is that all?” she replied sarcastically. “Do we know where it ends?”

“No way to tell,” Jorge told her. “It could end up at Coruscant for all we know.”

“The route you speak of leads to Atlaradis,” Mithunir put in. “I can feel it.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Milya insisted.

“It will,” he said dismissively. “My faith is stronger than your doubt, Milya Kraen.”

“What do the rest of you think?” Milya inquired. “Do we try it?”

“I believe,” Cassi said. “Something. . . the Force maybe. . . tells me this is the path for us.”

“Seems risky to me,” Jorge replied. “We’re not exactly hyperroute scouts.”

“I’m with Jorge,” Annita added. “We’ve been on this trail for a couple weeks now and it’s led us to increasingly remote and dangerous worlds.”

“What about you?” Cassi asked. “What do you think, Milya?”

The other woman shook her head.

“Every fiber of me wants to reject trying this hyperroute as foolish and insane. But we’ve come this far, and if we stop here, we’ll probably never find what we’re looking for. As crazy as it sounds, I don’t like quitting after all that. Let’s give it a try.”

“All right then,” Jorge said, vectoring the ship on sublights to cut through the shell nebula. “Let’s try to find ourselves a hyperroute.”

Five hours later, they had cleared the nebula, pointed along the vector where the hyperroute had been detected, unsure if it was still there or where it led. Jorge called everyone into the bridge as they stared out at deep space.

“Here goes nothing,” Jorge said. “Everyone ready?”

“Yes,” Cassi affirmed.

“I have waited for this for years,” Mithunir added.

“Hyperspace jump laid in,” Jorge replied. “Shields at full, structural integrity is sound, backups are set. Standing by.”

He glanced at the console, verifying the status of the onboard systems one last time. Finally satisfied, he nodded.

“Punch it,” he told Annita, who threw the lever.

The stars elongated into streaks as the Silent Surprise’s engines wound up and the craft achieved superluminal velocity, venturing into the unknown.


 * Rishi, one day later

“All right then, let’s do this,” Ryion said solemnly. “We know what we have to do.”

His companion nodded and rose, heading for the storage lockers.

“Make sure you bring extra medical supplies and weapons,” Zeyn advised as he his uniform for a form-fitting combat jumpsuit. “It’s likely we’ll need them.”

Suddenly, the door burst open and Shara rushed in, followed by a sheepish-looking sergeant. Ryion frowned at her.

“This is a secure area,” he said to the sergeant. “What is she doing here?”

“Sorry, sir, she tricked me,” the sergeant admitted. “Said she was lost, then tripped me and ran past.”

“I see,” Ryion answered dryly, then redirected his attention back to Shara. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” she told him, her speech heavily accented.

Ryion rolled his eyes and held up his comlink.

“This is a comlink. Most people in the galaxy use them to communicate with other people when they aren’t in the same room. Maybe you’ve heard of them? Anyway, they work really well for occasions like this. Much better than rushing into secure areas on military bases.”

She ignored his sarcasm.

“I need to talk to you,” she said. “It is urgent.”

Ryion rolled his eyes again, contemplating whether or not to hear her out, or to just have the sergeant escort her out.

“I’m kind of busy at the moment,” he replied.

“Ryion, please,” she implored him. “Just a moment.”

Ryion sighed, then relented.

“All right, talk,” he said, gesturing the sergeant out of the room and reaching for a locker where his suit was hanging.

He stripped off his Yanibar Guard shirt and pants, donning the flexible, tough, form-fitting polymer nanocomposite suit worn by YGI covert operatives and some Elite Guardians. It was dark-gray, with a texture composed of hundreds of tiny hexagonal panels sewn together. The suit was designed for sleekness and stealth along with maximum range of motion. There were trauma pads attached to the torso and non-jointed areas of the body and an armorweave underlayer, but it was nowhere near as durable as infantry armor. However, for a Force-user, the flexible suit would not hamper rapid movements while providing a modicum of protection.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he slid in a pair of earpiece comlinks.

“Getting suited up,” Ryion said, slotting in the suit’s power supply onto his back. “We have a mission.”

“It is not an official one,” she replied. “If it was, you would have other people here giving you information. Besides, your teams do not deploy in pairs.”

Ryion gave her an evaluating stare as he looked up from strapping his primary utility belt on.

“You’re far too observant,” he admonished her. “It’s a secret mission.”

“Then why am I still here?”

“That is an excellent question.”

Ryion retrieved a pair of discblades from the locker, tested their edges, then slid them into holsters on his ankles.

“Ryion, what are you going to do?” she asked him.

“Why should I tell you?” he asked, pulling out an S-5XS silenced pistol and slipping it into a shoulder holster.

“Because,” she answered nervously. “I’m worried about you.”

“You should worry about your people,” he said, adding extra magazines for the S-5XS to his shoulder belts.

“I heard about the meeting between our fathers. I know that many of your people were captured defending the convoy,” she said. “I figured that you would also learn these things. I also knew you would try and do something about them.”

“Maybe I am,” Ryion admitted as he checked the seals on his breath mask.

“Any prisoners of the Yuuzhan Vong would be on their biggest ship,” she told him. “You would put yourself in terrible danger.”

“No risk, no reward,” Ryion answered shortly, calibrating the settings on his optics set, momentarily seeing everything in shades of green as he switched to thermal mode.

“Ryion, what are you going to do?” she insisted.

“We,” Ryion replied, gesticulating towards Zeyn, “are going to put a stop to this.”

“How?”

He sighed again.

“We’re going to the enemy flagship. We’re going to free our people, and then destroy it and the entire fleet.”

“By yourselves?”

“The rest of the Guard will help. We already know their plans—ours will work with theirs.”

“Does your father know about this?”

Now that question stung.

“No,” Ryion answered shortly.

Reaching into a heavily armored locker, he pulled out several bandoleers of grenades, strapping them around his body.

“Ryion, don’t do this,” she told him. “It’s too dangerous.”

Ryion finally turned his full attention to her.

“You can’t have it both ways, Shara. You can’t have the safety of your people and not take any risks to get it.”

“But why do you have to be the one to take those risks? Haven’t you given enough?”

Ryion frowned at her as he picked up an S-2C carbine and checked its sights.

“Because I can do it,” he said. “That’s not your head speaking. As I seem to recall, you were urging me to fight just a few weeks ago. Now you’ve changed your tune. So, why are you here?”

Her gaze dropped for the first time.

“I came to dissuade you, to warn you,” she replied.

“It’s too late for that,” Ryion answered firmly, sliding the carbine into a holster on his back. “I’m fully aware of the risks and you won’t change my mind.”

“Do you have to do this?”

He took a deep breath, answering as much for his own benefit as hers.

“Yes,” he told her. “I got the Guard into this. Any lives lost here are because of me. It’s only fitting that I should be the one to get us out.”

“And what about me?”

“You’ll be safe here. If it works, you’ll never have to worry about the Yuuzhan Vong again.”

“Will it work?”

Ryion shrugged.

“We’ll see.”

“And if it does, will you and your people leave?”

“That’s the plan.”

“So either way, I’ll never see you again.”

“Maybe,” Ryion answered, pulling on his right glove, a task made more difficult by the fact that he was missing a finger on his left hand and another was crippled. “What are you driving at?”

“Then it seems with either outcome, I will experience a great loss,” she said. “For a long time, I was not sure how I felt about you but. . . I think I know now.”

Impulsively, she kissed him with surprising fervor, startling Ryion.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“To give you something to remember me by,” she said. “To come back to, if you succeed.”

She suddenly turned and fled the room before he could say anything else, leaving Ryion confused and still surprised.

“Well, that was interesting,” Zeyn remarked wryly as he donned his boots.

“That’s one word for it,” Ryion replied as he slid on his left glove, complete with the artificial finger to make up for the missing one.

“So, do you like her?” Zeyn asked.

Ryion frowned.

“I don’t know. It’s not something I’ve given much thought.”

Zeyn clapped him on the shoulder.

“She has.”

“I don’t have time for this right now, Zeyn. She’s a distraction I don’t want or need.”

Zeyn gave him a smirk.

“Still, as distractions go, she’s a pretty good-looking one.”

Ryion rolled his eyes.

“Thanks for the help.”

“Good kisser too?”

“Shut up, Zeyn.”

“You said you danced with her, right?”

Ryion glared at his cousin with mock outrage, who was clearly enjoying this moment, merriment dancing in his eyes despite their impending mission.

“Zeyn, I’m warning you.”

“What are you going to do? Not invite me to the wed—ouch!”

Ryion chuckled as he stemmed the flow of words from Zeyn’s mouth by swatting the back of his head, then he grew solemn again.

“Do you have everything?” he asked as strapped a second medkit to his equipment harness.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Zeyn told him, seriousness likewise reclaiming his speech.

“You know you don’t have to come along,” Ryion said. “This is my mission.”

Zeyn rolled his eyes and gave Ryion a stern look.

“Quit trying to be such a hero, Ryion,” he said. “I caught you about to launch your most harebrained scheme yet and forced you to take me along. I certainly was not cajoled into doing this. I’m coming.”

Ryion smiled, clasping Zeyn’s hand in a firm grip.

“Wouldn’t wish this mission on anyone, but for what it’s worth, glad to have you.”

Zeyn’s features softened as a smile creased his face.

“Hey, who else is going to watch your ugly backside?” he said. “Let’s get to the ship. We’ve got a planet to save.”

23
The Silent Surprise emerged from hyperspace with a flicker of pseudomotion. Its sojourn through the twisted dimensional tunnels had consumed three agonizingly protracted days, during which its occupants had done their best to remain sanguine about their chances of arriving at the destination they hoped to reach, or, after the second day, any destination at all. With no information on the length of the hyperroute or where it ended, they had elected to simply let it run until the failsafes kicked in after converging on a mass shadow.

“What happened?” Cassi asked, hurrying up to the bridge.

“We’ve arrived at a star system,” Jorge told her as he took the controls.

“More importantly, where are we?” Milya inquired.

“We’re. . . wow,” was all Jorge could manage.

“We’re what?” Annita asked, then she looked at the navigational console. “Oh.”

“Can somebody explain what’s going on?” Milya asked from the aft portion of the bridge.

“We’re deep in the Unknown Regions,” Jorge told her. “And I mean deep. Well beyond Bakura.”

“Hyperspace scans are showing no other routes leading in or out of this system,” Annita added. “Beyond that, it’s hard to tell. We’re in uncharted space.”

“What about the system?” Cassi inquired. “Are there any planets?”

“Two,” Jorge said. “One appears to be habitable. Oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, 0.98 g’s, 56% of the surface covered by oceans. We’ve got life signs as well.”

“That is Atlaradis,” Mithunir said triumphantly. “We are here.”

“Where do we set down?” Jorge asked.

“How about the space station?” Milya said.

“What space—oh, that space station,” Jorge answered, noting the artificial construction up ahead.

Its appearance was that of a gunmetal torus with eight triangular arms radiating outward from it. Throbbing blue lines pulsed tipward from the core along the arms, indicating that the station was still powered somehow. At this distance, few lights were evident to indicate how much else was still powered. The station was directly on the vector from the hyperspace exit point to the habitable planet, lurking in a relative oasis of clear space within a dense asteroid belt.

“Seems like the only way to get to the planet is either navigating the asteroid field or going through the space station,” Jorge said.

“How safe are the asteroids?” Annita inquired. “Just in case.”

“I wouldn’t bank much on them, even if your name was Han Solo,” Jorge said. “There’s lots of gravitational eddies and heavy solar wind activity. The asteroids are. . . erratic at best, and that’s a dense field.”

“Take us in closer to the station,” Milya told him. “But keep it quiet. No need to announce our presence.”

As the ship closed, they soon saw more details of the station. Its structure seemed smooth and relatively bereft of detailed features. The dull hues of the metal showed no signs of the careful polish put into Naboo craft, but nor did it possess the myriad external substructures common in Corellian designs. While previously hidden, they now saw a smaller object floating in the center of the toroidal ring, but with seemingly no connections to any other part of the station.

“Sensors are showing that it’s approximately eight kilometers in diameter,” Jorge said. “No way of telling if it’s inhabited.”

“I sense presences,” Cassi offered. “But not human, or any other species I’m familiar with.”

“Me neither,” Milya said. “But they’re sentient. . . and Force-sensitive. I sense their awareness.”

“They are the caretakers that the legends spoke of,” Mithunir told them. “They watch over Atlaradis and welcome those who seek it.”

“That might be good news, depending on what kind of welcome they have,” Annita put in dryly.

The Silent Surprise slowly angled towards the space station, its crew focused on the immense construction looming before them. It seemed dormant enough, offering no sign of activity, but they did not know what to expect from it.

“Detecting some kind of activation,” Jorge said as he banked the ship away from it. “On one of those radial arms.”

As he magnified the object in question on a secondary holoprojector, they saw a hatch of some kind was opening, deploying small objects in a linear path away from it.

“I don’t like the looks of that,” Annita remarked worriedly. “Might want to boost power to deflectors.”

The objects slid into a pattern and lit up, emanating glowing blue lights that led back into the hatch.

“If that’s not a sign to come in and dock, I don’t know what is. The hatch is plenty large enough to accommodate the ship,” Jorge told them. “Do we chance it?”

Milya frowned.

“I don’t suppose we have much of a choice. We have to pass by that space station to get to the planet, and if it has weapons, it could probably destroy us easily. Take us in.”

Twenty minutes later, the ship was landed inside the deserted hangar bay. As it had entered, the craft passed through a magnetic containment field, indicating that the bay was likely pressurized. However, Milya insisted upon them all wearing emergency safety vests that would generate a protective field and several minutes of breathable air in case of toxic atmosphere or depressurization. Aside from a few glowing lights mounted on brackets about halfway up the walls, there was no other illumination.

Emerging from the ship, they looked around with glowrods in hand. There was a door on the other side of the cavernous chamber. The smooth metallic floor was clean aside from a few scuffs. There was no sign of life, nor were there any other ships or constructions in the bay. The air was musty, but seemed non-toxic.

“Air is an oxygen-nitrogen mix,” Jorge pointed out. “Fifty-fifty split, definitely breathable.”

“That’s something at least,” Milya said.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Annita remarked as they neared the door. “I don’t suppose this is unlocked.”

To her surprise, it slid open, revealing a trapezoidal corridor made out of the same dark gray metal used in the landing bay. This time, however, the lighting was different. Instead of bracket-mounted lights interspersed through the corridor, a long glowing strip mounted near the top of each trapezoidal leg ran the length of the corridor. A third strip ran likewise down the middle of the floor. A closer look revealed that the strips were not merely lighting either. They had the appearance of a river of radiant blue particles racing down a current in orderly fashion, but interspersed among them were golden and burgundy alien glyphs and sigils that alternated at some random pattern. Whatever they were intended to convey, it was clearly beyond their understanding. Mists and vapors emanated from the floor and cast everything in murkiness.

“I guess we follow the corridor now,” Annita said uncomfortably.

“Have no fear, Annita Knrr,” Mithunir answered, striding ahead confidently. “There is no need for it at Atlaradis.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jorge mumbled. “I didn’t get this old by sauntering down weird misty alien corridors whistling a tune.”

Milya abruptly held up a hand, forestalling any further discussion.

“I sense three people approaching,” she said. “Just around the corner.”

Sure enough, three shadowy figures rounded the corner and drew near.

“Welcome, seekers,” one of them said in Basic, the voice deep and resonant, with a melodic quality to it that reminded Jorge of a lower Rodian or possibly Ithorian voice.

“Who are you?” Milya asked cautiously.

“We are Caretakers,” one of them told her, as they stepped forward to meet them.

The aliens were finally near enough to distinguish them, though Milya was little-surprised to see an unfamiliar species. They were tall, humanoid creatures with smooth pale golden skin with bulbous heads framed by a pair of eyestalks protruding from either side. All three aliens were wearing long white robes with golden patterns and none of them seemed to be armed.

“Caretakers of what?” Milya insisted.

“Of this station and of Atlaradis,” the center alien told her. “My name is Pesrah. Your coming was foretold.”

“Was it now?” Milya inquired suspiciously, her eyes narrowing.

Pesrah’s eyestalks waggled in what might have been an expression of alien mirth.

“Yes, we have a hidden sensor network in the shell nebula where you left from.”

Milya rolled her eyes, giving Cassi an opportunity to speak.

“We don’t know a lot about this place, or about you. Could you tell us about it, maybe show us around?”

“Certainly,” Pesrah said, beckoning them to follow as he led them further down the corridor. “This installation, in your language, is called Needle’s Eye. It is the gateway of Atlaradis. My people built it thousands of years ago.”

“And who are your people?” Jorge asked. “I’ve traveled many spacelanes, but never seen your kind.”

“That is of little surprise. Other seekers who came before you have told us the same thing. It is likely that the rest of our kind have died out. We are called Rakata.”

Milya stopped suddenly, motioning the others back.

“Now hold on just a minute,” she said. “I’ve heard of the Rakata. Thousands of years ago, they were tyrannical rulers who enslaved entire cultures. They were ruthless conquerors who used the dark side of the Force to dominate the galaxy. Are we talking about those Rakata?”

“That is part of the sad legacy of our people, and the reason for the construction of this station,” Pesrah informed them. “Many, many years ago, there was a schism in the Rakata. Many wanted to use the power they had been given to explore the stars, to shape and rule all they found, but there were some who were not so ambitious. They sought to instead learn and study, to prosper on our homeworld of Lehon and to befriend other peoples.”

“What happened?” Cassi asked.

“There was much strife, almost to the point of outright war. But rather than cause bloodshed and divide our people further, my ancestors took their families and what few belongings they could bring and left Lehon, seeking out a world where they could settle down and live peacefully. It was a long, hard, journey, and not many of them survived, but they eventually found this planet, a paradise strong with the Force.”

“So why was this station built?” Annita put in.

“At first, it was to defend ourselves if the other Rakata ever found us and decided to attack. After we learned from other seekers that the rest of the Rakata were gone, it is a gateway now, the only way into Atlaradis.”

Pesrah led them through a doorway into a wide open promenade which curved around in either direction. The ceiling and upper portion of the walls were made of a transparent material, revealing magnificent starscapes in every direction. The wide walkway was transparent and suspended over a large circular atrium around which a holographic view of the planet glowed.

“This is the Grand Promenade,” Pesrah said. “It circles the entire ring of this station. Would you care to walk around?”

“Perhaps not all the way around, but for a bit,” Milya answered warily.

“You mentioned other seekers,” Cassi remarked. “Do you get new visitors here often?”

“Not often,” Pesrah told her. “The hyperroute that leads here is only open intermittently. Hundreds of years can pass before it opens again, or sometimes merely decades. Sometimes the Force will see fit to bring us new visitors—only by its guidance do people stay here. Many of them stay permanently after being welcomed—Atlaradis is a pleasant place for many species.”

“When was the last time you had visitors?” Cassi asked.

“We have learned that Coruscant years are your standard measure of time,” Pesrah said. “Based on those, approximately 212. It was a Jedi Master who called herself Fay. However, while she said Atlaradis was wonderful, she felt the Force calling her elsewhere. The hyperroute has not opened since.”

“And how long does the hyperroute stay open?” Milya inquired cautiously.

“Always seven Atlaradis days,” Pesrah said. “Never more, never less.”

“What is Atlaradis like?” Mithunir asked, having finally overcome his awe of the place to speak.

Before Pesrah could answer, there was a crashing sound that diverted their attention. Shards of the transparent crystalline material rained down around them. Milya looked up to see a menacing black ship anchored to the side of the station, with some kind of hideous appendage protruding through the breach in the viewport. She realized with horror that it was a Yuuzhan Vong ship just as the appendage, obviously some kind of boarding collar, began disgorging warriors who dropped down nimbly from their ship, amphistaffs at the ready.

“Vong!” Milya shouted, saberstaff instantly out and lit in a double ignition of silver-white blades.

“What?” Cassi exclaimed even as she brought up her own blue lightsaber. “How is that possible?”

“They must have tracked us from Ord Pardron,” Milya replied as the Vong, now numbering at eight, advanced on them.

“Jeedai!” one of Vong hissed at them. “We have followed you to your refuge planet. Now you will die!”

Milya deftly whipped her saberstaff up, incinerating a thrown thud bug.

“Not yet,” she growled.

Behind her, Jorge and Annita drew their blasters and opened fire, scoring several hits. The Yuuzhan Vong warriors retaliated, hurling a dozen insectile weapons at them in reply. Cassi leaped over, her blade flashing in a protective pattern as she sought to defend them, while Milya engaged the Yuuzhan Vong directly. Two of them attacked her, swinging amphistaffs both high and low. She caught the serpentine weapons on her blades, but was driven back by the force of the blows. Recovering, she twirled the staff through a quick Soresu defensive velocity, parrying the follow-up strikes.

A hail of freshly-thrown bugs forced her to put additional effort into defending herself, but suddenly the bugs were no longer an issue. A violent whirlwind had arisen, flinging the insects back into their masters and forcing the Yuuzhan Vong to struggle just to take a step forward. Milya anchored herself in place with the Force and looked back to see Mithunir standing at the ready with his hands weaving a pattern in what was obviously some kind of incantation to control the Force whirlwind. Jorge and Annita had felled two of the warriors and Milya lunged forward, aided by the whirlwind, to slice down the two she had been fighting.

However, the boarding tube continued to drop more warriors and the next pair she had come across were defending themselves more vigorously. Her saberstaff hummed and popped as it impacted against amphistaffs and sizzled when it hit vonduun crab armor, but she was not able to inflict serious wounds until one of the warriors attempted to use his amphistaff to spew poison at her. The whirlwind promptly redirected it into his face and he gurgled, face contorted in agony, as the venom went to work. Milya stepped forward, stabbing one blade into the weak spot under the arm, then immediately whipping the weapon back out to defend against her other opponent.

“Mithunir, can you take out the boarding tube?” Milya shouted as she fought off a wild charge by another warrior. “I’m a little busy here.”

“Possibly, but if I am not careful, I could destroy the viewport and kill us all.”

Milya glanced upward, acknowledging the danger. If he destroyed or dislodged the Yuuzhan Vong craft, it was possible the entire promenade would depressurize. The nearest corridor leading off the promenade was dozens of meters away—Jorge and Annita at least wouldn’t make it even if the Force-users could.

“The promenade has emergency shields in case of a breach,” Pesrah said calmly from his position behind Jorge, Annita, and Cassi.

Milya dropped to her knees to avoid a vicious horizontal slice from the sharp end of an amphistaff, using her saberstaff to deflect another low chop, but that left her open to an armored knee to the face. She fell backwards to land on her back, losing her lightsaber. Cassi screamed, but Milya pushed everything else except defense and the Force out of her mind. As the sharp amphistaff tips plunged down, she rolled left, then right, then left again, pulling out her vibroblade and parrying desperately when she had to with short, controlled sidestrokes. The Force told her of an opening and she took it, kicking out to throw one warrior off balance. Grabbing hold of another warrior’s arm, she pulled herself up with her right arm, using the vibroblade in her left hand to smash the amphistaff back. The warrior snarled, but Milya headbutted him, which inflicted almost no damage, but gave her time to slash his throat with her vibroblade. He fell backwards just as the warrior she had kicked lunged at her, amphistaff head ready to bite. She sidestepped his charge, knocking the amphistaff aside with her vibroblade, but he kicked out as he slid past her, sending her sprawling to the floor. The warrior wheeled and turned, roaring angrily, but Milya was ready. Letting the Force guide her hand, she hurled the vibroblade into his face and he collapsed to the ground with the blade buried almost its full length into his skull, blood pouring from the grievous wound.

Behind her, Cassi had kept up her defense against all the missiles thrown in her direction while Jorge and Annita continually peppered the Yuuzhan Vong with blaster rounds. Though they were only blaster pistols and lacked stopping power against armored Yuuzhan Vong, the wounds they inflicted slowed the Vong down so Milya could deal with them a few at a time and at less than full strength. The air sizzled as a giant fireball roared past Milya, arcing upward into the boarding tube. Immediately, the smell of burned flesh affronted their nostrils as smoke began pouring from the orifice where the warriors had been dropping from. One more warrior fell out of the living craft, engulfed in flames.

“Again!” Milya shouted, but Mithunir was ahead of her, already conjuring another fireball.

She summoned her lightsaber back into hand, but one nimble Yuuzhan Vong leapt ahead, slicing downward with a coufee and severing one end. She caught it and ignited the weapon, but only one blade remained operational. Undeterred, Milya attacked the warrior, leaping up to bounce off the railing on the walkway in order to assault from above. He countered her broad, sweeping blow with a solid parry that propelled her away from him. Slashing outward to avoid a quick counterattack, she recovered and spun back towards him, lightsaber humming.

The warrior was canny, hurling a fistful of razor bugs at her while charging with amphistaff in one hand and coufee in the other. The deadly knife-winged bugs hummed angrily as they homed in on her position. Milya was undaunted, however, spinning her lightsaber and backpedaling to destroy all the bugs before she met her opponent hand-to-hand. The warrior grimaced, averting his charge and circling around slowly instead. Milya mirrored his movements, blade snapped up and ready to defend.

“You have fought well. . . for an infidel,” he told her.

Whipping his amphistaff into a swift overhand strike, he immediately shifted the weapon into its whip form, attempting to coil it around Milya’s right wrist as she parried his initial strike. Milya wove her blade through an infinity loop, deflecting his amphistaff twice. She shot forward as the amphistaff swung wide. Unable to bring her lightsaber to bear in time, her left hand snapped up as she jabbed him in one eye. Half-blinded, he swung his coufee up. Its hilt caught her on the chin, knocking her head back and clicking her teeth together painfully. Milya tasted blood from where she’d involuntarily bitten her tongue as both combatants staggered back.

Riposting, Milya stabbed her blade forward only to have it parried. She slid the lightsaber across the amphistaff’s edge in a shower of sparks, attempting to sever fingers. The warrior was wise to her stratagem and lashed out with a ferocious backhand. Milya turned into the blow, but it still clipped the side of her head, leaving her ear bloodied. Her skull was pounding from the force of the blow, but she forced herself to backflip away from his lunge. She feinted, hoping to draw off the amphistaff’s probing tip, but the warrior did not fall for the ruse.

Then, another fireball shot past the two combatants to slam into the Yuuzhan Vong ship. This time, flames emerged from the seared orifice. The ship shuddered and writhed as it was cooked from within. The station lurched and Milya took advantage of the momentary distraction. Leaping up, she unloaded a quick three-strike combo to the warrior’s left side, twisting away from a stream of amphistaff venom in midair. He blocked all three attacks, but she tumbled behind him as she landed, scything her leg through his. As he fell back, she stabbed blindly behind her even as he did the same thing.

Milya heard the sizzle of flesh and the Yuuzhan Vong’s inarticulate scream as the lightsaber impaled him. However, she also felt the amphistaff’s serrated tip stab into her left thigh. She gasped, feeling the serpentine weapon bob inside her along with her sudden exhalation. A violent tremor of pain shot from her leg up to her skull, but she retained the presence of mind to wrench her lightsaber back, knocking the amphistaff out in a spray of crimson droplets which flew through the air to spatter on the ground. Milya’s face was contorted in agony but she turned to face the warrior, who, unbelievably, was still on his feet despite the smoking hole that had punched clean through his midsection. He snarled at her, brandishing the amphistaff.

“Now you die,” he growled.

Then suddenly, he jerked and lurched forward, then again, and again, twitching helplessly. With her awareness rapidly diminishing due to blood loss, it took Milya two seconds to realize that Jorge and Annita were pouring blaster bolts into his unprotected back. The warrior collapsed to his knees, still attempting to strike her with the amphistaff’s venomous head. Milya batted it away and decapitated the warrior with the backswing of the blow.

Slapping a hand against the wound in the back of her leg, she attempted to staunch the bleeding even as rivulets of blood flowed through her fingers. Still, she managed a smile for the others, who were looking worriedly at her.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she said.

At that exact moment, the viewport above the others collapsed and a dark shape fell like a thunderbolt into their midst even as the emergency shield snapped into place to seal the breach. A malevolent anger burned in the Yuuzhan Vong warrior as she unleashed her deadly weapons. Mithunir was the first victim, her dual amphistaffs impaling him from behind. As he fell, bleeding from two gaping chest wounds, the warrior turned, striking at Cassi. Cassi blocked the first amphistaff, but the second one coiled itself around her leg. A quick tug jerked Cassi to the ground, where a solid kick connected to her face. Cassi collapsed unconscious, the lightsaber rolling away from her fingertips.

“That’s just for now, Jeedai,” Yiu Shac warned ominously. “I have not forgotten Ord Pardron.”

Jorge and Annita had sufficiently recovered to aim their blasters at Yiu Shac, but their first bolts went wild. The rest only scored glancing hits on her vonduun crab armor. Even as Milya tried to limp forward to help, Yiu Shac sprang between Jorge and Annita, spinning and striking out with both amphistaffs. Unable to match the Yuuzhan Vong’s agility, they were bitten in rapid succession by the amphistaff heads. Throwing up their arms to take the blows mattered little when bite was venomous. Yiu Shac cackled triumphantly and advanced on Pesrah, who had stood quietly during the entire battle. Swinging one of her amphistaffs in a wide arc, she intended to cleave right through the Rakata when a whirling silver-white lightsaber blade connected with her amphistaff, forcing it back and throwing Yiu Shac off balance. She twisted around to see the lightsaber return to Milya’s hands. Limping forward but with a dogged expression, Milya Kraen flourished her lightsaber.

“Come and get me, Vong,” she said. “Let’s see how well you do against someone who can fight back.”

Yiu Shac noted her wounded leg and gave her a feral grin.

“Let us see indeed, Jeedai.”

Wielding her two amphistaffs like whips, Yiu Shac whirled them forward, cracking them against the railing and the walkway and against Milya’s lightsaber as she drove Milya back. They were longer than standard amphistaffs and so Milya was caught offguard when one of them snaked around her leg. Yiu Shac yanked on the entangling weapon, spilling Milya to the walkway. The second amphistaff stabbed forward to pierce Milya’s other leg before Milya knocked it away. Milya fought desperately to free herself of the other amphistaff and Yiu Shac gave it to her eventually, but only after using other free amphistaff to slash Milya’s left ankle.

“Poor little Jeedai,” Yiu Shac crooned malevolently. “No more jumping around for you. Now you weaken as your lifeblood leaks out of you.”

The Yuuzhan Vong punctuated each sentence by whipping one of the amphistaffs at Milya, who blocked them off as best she could from her sprawled position on the floor. Rolling away, she forced Yiu Shac to pursue her back towards the others. The Yuuzhan Vong warrior had other ideas, sending a stream of venom at her, but Milya caught it on her lightsaber blade. Once she had some separation, Milya shakily pulled herself to her feet, holding the lightsaber with one hand and clutching the railing with the other.

Yiu Shac glared at her, casually hurling one razor bug after another with impressive force. Milya swatted away each one, but the effort required to do so one-handed meant that she could only hobble one step backward. Her wounded legs were beginning to fail her and she could see the blood trail she was leaving. Now Yiu Shac was brandishing her amphistaffs like whips again, cracking them high and low as she advanced relentlessly. Milya tried to parry them, but they were coming at her too fast. She was too weak and now Yiu Shac had her pinned against the railing, unable to move side to side.

“This is the part I enjoy the most,” Yiu Shac told her. “Right before I make my kill.”

The amphistaffs cracked whiplike as Yiu Shac brought them around in an overhand chop and suddenly stiffened into spear form, their vicious and bloodied stabbing tips thrusting right at Milya’s face. Milya threw herself backwards, watching the two tips cross mere centimeters above her face, then knocked both amphistaffs to the side. Even as she recovered, she could see Yiu Shac preparing to uncoil another pair of vicious strikes that she knew she would be unable to stop. So instead, Milya leapt over the side of the railing as the amphistaffs pierced the empty space where she had been standing a half-second earlier. Hanging by one arm over ten meters of thin air, she raised her head and saber arm over the edge of the railing and was rewarded by seeing Yiu Shac shaking her head at her.

“That was your last mistake, infidel. You have nowhere to go and no way to defend yourself.”

Milya ducked back as the amphistaffs nearly connected with her head.

“You are only delaying the inevitable,” Yiu Shac said. “I will kill you now. I will kill you because you are an infidel and a heretic Jeedai sorcerer. I will kill you for the glory of the Yuuzhan Vong and my domain. Do-ro’ik vong pratte!”

She swung the amphistaffs downward, cleaving through the railing where Milya had been grasping desperately. However, to her surprise, Milya was gone. Yiu Shac was momentarily bewildered, unsure as to where her opponent was. Suddenly, she caught sight of a drop of blood arcing through the air to splatter at her feet. Instinctively, Yiu Shac whirled both amphistaffs up and behind her and so the blow that would have separated her head from her shoulders merely seared an ear.

The Yuuzhan Vong turned to see Milya land behind her, glaring defiantly, but her sides were heaving with exertion.

“That was a clever trick, Jeedai,” Yiu Shac said approvingly. “Disappearing like that while jumping upward to strike from stealth.”

Whirling the amphistaffs, she advanced on Milya again, who set herself to defend as best she could in a hopeless fight.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Milya grated out even as she knocked away two amphistaff strikes.

She wasn’t fast enough to catch the follow-up blow, though, and while she twisted to avoid the stabbing attempt, the backswing of the amphistaff’s stiffened body was enough to slap her ribs and send her staggering back. Milya glanced at the floor and noted the red trail she was leaving behind. There was a lot of her blood there and she could feel herself weakening. Even drawing on the Force wasn’t enough to compensate for blood loss of this magnitude. A natural predator, Yiu Shac closed in once more.

“You have fought with some skill, infidel,” Yiu Shac told her. “I shall bear this scar you gave me proudly.”

She paused to crack both amphistaffs in whip form against the walkway.

“After I kill you,” the Yuuzhan Vong added.

Milya shook her head as Yiu Shac flourished both amphistaffs, raising them for a double-overhand chop that Milya would not be able to summon the strength to defend against in her weakened state.

“There you go again, still talking,” Milya said.

Suddenly, there was a sizzling sound as a blue bar of light sprang into existence as it hurled through the air behind Yiu Shac. The newly-ignited lightsaber caught Yiu Shac’s right arm just above the bracer, severing it. The warrior howled as Milya caught Cassi’s lightsaber, which Cassi had hurled after recovering from the kick. Her delaying its activation had meant that Yiu Shac had no warning of the sudden attack.

Milya hobbled forward even as Yiu Shac attempted to recover. The warrior lashed out with the amphistaff and Milya took the blow on both blades. Yiu Shac was clearly an expert, though, and now she was trying to finish Milya quickly before Cassi became a greater threat.

A successive strike from the amphistaff knocked the blue lightsaber out of Milya’s weakening grasp, but a blaster bolt from Cassi, who had retrieved Annita’s weapon, took Yiu Shac in the back, sending her staggering forward even though the wound was minor. That was all the opening Milya needed. Dashing forward with her last vestiges of strength, she savagely hacked at Yiu Shac, who parried as best as she could. Milya scored several more hits on the Yuuzhan Vong warrior, but the sturdy vonduun crab armor withstood the lightsaber blows.

Milya’s legs gave out from under her and she collapsed against Yiu Shac even as she locked her blade out wide against Yiu Shac’s amphistaff. Yiu Shac snarled and attempted to bite her neck, but Milya tucked her chin and slammed an elbow up into her face. Yiu Shac responded by twisting around so Milya was between her and Cassi and stomping on Milya’s wounded foot. An agonized cry escaped Milya’s lips, but now her left hand had come up with the S-5XS pistol from the holster. While an ineffective weapon against Yuuzhan Vong armor at range, she figured it might be more useful this close. Yiu Shac slammed an armored knee into her crotch, but Milya hung on tenaciously, knowing that the warrior could not see what she was doing. She planted its barrel between Yiu Shac’s skirt plates and held down the trigger, stitching a line of bloody holes across the Yuuzhan Vong’s abdomen. Yiu Shac gasped aloud as the tungsten-durasteel slugs pierced her body. Dropping the amphistaff, the Yuuzhan Vong made a last-ditch attempt to throttle Milya, but Milya’s sword arm was faster, slicing upward to sever the limb. Yiu Shac collapsed to her knees, glaring balefully at Milya, who returned the stare dispassionately.

“I don’t talk to my enemies. I kill them,” Milya told her, brandishing the lightsaber.

Yiu Shac opened her mouth to give an angry retort, but no sound issued from her mouth, nor would any ever again. She fell over lifelessly, black blood gushing from her abdominal wounds.

Suddenly weaker than she had felt in years, Milya likewise toppled over as the pain that she had held off for several excruciating minutes of combat threatened to overwhelm her. Cassi rushed over to kneel at her side.

“Help the others. . .” Milya gasped. “Leave me.”

“Not in a thousand years,” Cassi replied fiercely, tearing part of her tunic off to serve as a makeshift bandage.

Then Cassi pressed the cloth against Milya’s thigh, eliciting a painful spike of agony inside Milya that her battered body could not withstand. Mercifully, she passed out.


 * Umbra’s Edge

They came for her while she was sleeping. Therior jerked her into the air roughly with the Force, pulling her out of a fitful sleep. A gag was placed over her mouth by Krakadas before she could utter a scream and she was dragged along without explanation or chance to defend herself. Unhealed bruises lingered on her neck, face, and limbs and her eyes shot back and forth, searching for an explanation that was not forthcoming. They hauled her down to a dark room in the bowels of the ship, a fuliginous room cluttered with scientific equipment. The center of the room was dominated by large glowing blue crystals suspended from the ceiling and plugged into some kind of apparatus, which was connected to a central chair. Wordlessly, they shoved her into the chair and attached the wires to her body and head. When she struggled, they drove hard punches into her limbs until she had no more strength to fight back.

“Gentlemen, please, not so rough,” interjected the sibilant voice of Aspra Serpaddis. “If you want her to help you, beating her into submission is not the best tactic. She might have cooperated if you hadn’t jumped on her like a pair of thugs.”

Therior and Krakadas were rather enjoying themselves, but they relented once Ariada was secured to the chair.

“We are in hyperspace now,” Therior said. “In three jumps, we will arrive in the Yanibar system.”

Ariada’s eyes widened and she tried to protest, but Therior had yet to loosen the gag.

“Shut up and listen,” he said. “These crystals around you, they are called Ilnash crystals. They amplify focused Force usage, but on their own, they are useless. You have, if I recall correctly, an ability to conceal yourself with the Force, both from sensors and from other Force-users.”

She nodded slowly, eyes shooting back and forth at each Dark Jedi in turn, hoping they would not harm her further with this plan of hers.

“You will use this power to conceal our ship when we reach Yanibar,” Therior instructed her. “If we are detected, we will leave—after returning you to your people through the airlock.”

Ariada understood full well that she would be a corpse if she took that trip. She knew too much about the Dark Jedi.

“And when we are convinced about your claim of this hidden planet of Force-users and have escaped Yanibar successfully, you will be considered trustworthy.”

Ariada strained against the gag, and finally Therior relented, yanking it off.

“Do you have something to say?”

“They’ll detect us and destroy us,” she said frantically. “Even my powers won’t protect us against the colony’s most powerful warriors.”

Therior nodded sagely. Walking over to a holoprojector, he keyed in a series of commands.

“I thought you might say something like that,” he said. “Rest assured, I doubt they are there. Do you know what planet this is?”

A temperate world, mostly blue and green with mottled white clouds flickered into view. “No,” she said.

“This is Rishi,” he said. “One of our spies reported news of a battle against the Yuuzhan Vong. There are some New Republic ships there, but the defense is being led by an organization that calls itself the Guard. One of their vessels matches exactly with the type of ship we chased over that planet.”

He zoomed in the holograph, showing her the dispositions of the fleets in orbit, downloaded from a civilian freighter of some kind.

“Is this the bulk of your Yanibar Guard fleet?” he asked her.

Staring in shocked disbelief, Ariada managed a nod. She couldn’t believe that the Yanibar Guard had somehow been spurred into taking direct action against the Yuuzhan Vong. Her dreams, her hopes of justice and defending the innocent from the Yuuzhan Vong onslaught, were being realized by thousands of Yanibar Guard personnel on and over Rishi.

“Then we are free to arrive at Yanibar unmolested,” Therior said smoothly.

“But we don’t need to go there,” Ariada countered. “There’s your proof—they exist.”

“Ariada, we can never trust you unless you are willing to side with us over this former allegiance of yours,” Therior told her sternly. “Just be glad I’m not having you kill one of them.”

She swallowed hard and nodded, all the fight drained out of her. So this was it. The Dark Jedi were going to force her to betray the Yanibar Guard in order for her to gain their trust. She had feared that would be the case all along. Now, she was powerless to resist them and she could not tap into any resources until she completed the insidious deed for them. If they were detected by the Yanibar Guard, she was certain they would be trapped and killed. Therior had already underestimated the Yanibar Guard once, to his own detriment, and now he was embarking on an even more foolhardy confrontation. She had no choice but to help him until she could turn the tables, but the price was growing higher and higher with each trial. Ariada could handle physical suffering, but the ethical lines she was being forced to cross made her distinctly uncomfortable. Her approaching the Dark Jedi had been based around a need to acquire more power and resources to combat the Yuuzhan Vong, not kill innocent civilians or attack Yanibar. From a pragmatic standpoint, she was wasting time and effort on these foolish adventures, while the ethical lapses forced upon her had achieved nothing for the greater good, making them pointless. Doubt at the sagacity of her decision to ally herself with the Dark Jedi had been gnawing at her and this did nothing to allay it.

“I suggest you practice your technique,” Therior advised her. “We’ll let you have one test before we reach Yanibar. One of us will leave the ship and attempt to detect it and a bubble of space five hundred meters around it with both sensors and the Force. I strongly encourage you to pass.”

“She will need nourishment and healing if she is to do this,” Aspra Serpaddis countered. “If you want her to succeed, that is.”

“Of course we do,” Therior said with an evil smile. “If you are so concerned for her welfare, Aspra Serpaddis, you see to it. I will be planning our next move.”

He turned and left, leaving Ariada slumped over in the chair, wondering how she had sunk to these depths.

24
It was evening again and Akleyn was lounging quietly in the hallway. Finally free from the demands of the day, he slipped his flask out from the inner pocket where he’d concealed it. Sipping the whiskey, he savored the burning sensation as it slid down his throat. In a few more pulls, his senses would be adequately dulled where he couldn’t recall the most lurid details of the horrific injuries he’d seen and treated today. Once upon a time, Akleyn had tried to use the Force to inure himself against such traumatic sights. Now he figured alcohol was a much faster and easier route to accomplishing that same goal.

“Doc?” he thought he heard a female voice call him.

He shrugged it off. He was off duty and nobody should be bothering him at this time anyway. Akleyn heard the sound of footsteps approach in an irregular cadence. He silently willed the visitor away, but to no avail.

“I thought it was you.”

Akleyn was painfully aware that his verbal assailant was now standing next to him. Since there seemed to be no getting ridding of her by simply ignoring her, he turned to glare at his intruder. To his surprise, it was the offworlder, Anja Gallandro. His glare remained undiminished.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Some company might be nice,” she replied pleasantly enough.

“I recommend you find your offworlder friends then,” he answered huffily, staring straight ahead to avoid eye contact. “I’m a doctor, not a counselor.”

“I meant for you,” she told him directly. “You looked lonely just standing there.”

“Anja, if you’re trying to flirt with me, I’m flattered, but I don’t date patients anymore,” Akleyn told her.

Something about the way he trailed off at the end of the sentence spoke volumes to Anja.

“But you used to?”

The glare returned more fiercely than ever.

“That is none of your business. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Anja was not in the least bit intimidated by his frosty reply.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else, with your friends, or just somewhere where you’re happy?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh spare me the phobium, Doc, you’re miserable,” she said. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I’m a surgeon,” Akleyn said slowly and with obvious sarcasm, as if speaking to a small child. “It’s my job to help hurt people. There are a lot of hurt people on Rishi so here I am.”

“Don’t talk down to me,” she answered hotly. “I may not have your fancy degrees or that mask you hide behind, but I can tell when someone hates everything around them.”

Akleyn grunted.

“With an attitude like that, you’re lucky any physician Coreward from here will even let you into their office.”

“Given that any physican Coreward from here is likely to be Vong, I think I’m okay with that,” Anja told him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Rolling his eyes, Akleyn turned back to her, arms crossed as he scowled.

“I came here to get away from people with too much time and too many good intentions trying to fix my life,” he said. “Unfortunately, you didn’t seem to get that transmission.”

One of Anja’s eyebrows shot up quizzically.

“Fix your life, Doc?” she said. “I can’t do that. The only person who can fix your life is you. You have to want it fixed before it can get there.”

“Oh, so you’re a counselor?” Akleyn answered sardonically as he turned away again. “Thank you for the session, but I don’t think I can afford your services.”

“Something must have hurt you pretty bad, eh, Doc?” she asked. “I’m guessing it was a woman.”

He whirled on her, hands raised and shaking with rage. How dare she prod at such a sensitive subject? How dare she poke into his life?

“Go ahead, Doc, hit me if it’ll make you feel better,” Anja said, unflappable as ever. “I can take it. Better you let that out instead of keeping it bottled up.”

Akleyn glared vibrodaggers at her, then deliberately dropped his left hand, using his right hand to take another long sip of whiskey. When he spoke, his voice was as icy cold and seemingly devoid of emotion despite the strong undercurrent of anger. He was carefully controlled now, restraining himself and his true feelings from emerging.

“I don’t know what interest you seem to have in me and my life, but it ends here,” he said. “I did not come out to this planet to have strangers intrude into my life. I came here to help people; is it so hard just to let me do that?”

Indignation had crept into his voice at the end of his tirade and now he realized that his face was less than ten centimeters from hers and that he had nearly backed her into the wall. For the first time, she looked somewhat vulnerable and Akleyn regretted his heavy-handed approach.

“I’m sorry, Doc,” she said quietly. “I won’t bother you any more.”

Akleyn almost softened on seeing the guilty look on her face, but instead he clenched his teeth and hardened himself. She looked like she was about to continue, but the icy stare he was giving her finally seemed to have its desired effect.

“I guess it’s time I was back in bed,” she mumbled.

“Good answer,” he told her.

She turned and shuffled off and Akleyn kept his glare directed at her retreating form until she disappeared out of sight. Finally, she was gone. He sighed and brought the flask of whiskey up. A minute later, he was in the middle of imbibing a particularly long pull when he heard a frantic step-thump, step-thump that could only come from someone attempting to run with one leg in a long cast. Akleyn was completely unsurprised and utterly disgusted to see Anja hobbling towards him, a distraught and plaintive look on her face. His ire rose at seeing her again.

“You know, I actually believed you when you said you weren’t going to bother me,” he commented maliciously.

“Doc, please,” she stammered. “I think she’s going to kill herself. Locked the door on me.”

“What? Who?” Akleyn demanded, instantly all business.

“Follow me,” she said.

Akleyn complied as she led him to the VIP ward. As she had told him, the door was locked, but Akleyn’s badge contained an override. It slid open to reveal a Twi’lek woman dangling from a rope suspended from the metal rafters. Akleyn raced forward to catch her feet and hold her up when a wave of Force energy hit him and Anja, sending them sprawling back. Akleyn rose quickly and flipped on the lights, which was when he realized it was Qedai.

“Qedai, wait!” he called, springing forward.

Once again, the wave of Force energy knocked him and Anja down. Qedai attempted to knock them both out of the door, but Akleyn braced himself against the wall, while Anja clung to the doorpost.

“Now you look here,” Akleyn warned her. “You’re going to need to breathe if you’re going to keep knocking us away. I’m a stubborn kriffer when I want to be and I will get to you before your brain runs out of oxygen.”

Diving forward, he caught Qedai’s ankles and held her up, loosening the knot’s tension around her neck. Distraught and sobbing, the Twi’lek reached up, attempting to tighten the noose.

“Don’t do it,” he warned her, but she was stubbornly insistent, yanking on the noose as hard as she could.

Akleyn jumped up on the bed suddenly, pulling out the laser scalpel he always carried in his pocket. With one swift stroke, he slashed the noose from the rafters. Qedai collapsed into his arms and he hauled her back onto the bed before she could fall to the ground.

“Easy there,” Akleyn said, pocketing the laser scalpel as she tried to make a grab for it.

“Should. . . let. . . me,” Qedai managed weakly through contorted lips.

“Shhhh,” Akleyn hushed her, sitting beside the bed and loosening the noose from around her neck.

He tossed it away, noting the self-inflicted bruises on her neck. Carefully, he massaged her throat, infusing the damaged tissue with healing Force energy.

“Don’t try to speak just quite yet,” he said, rising as she lay there helplessly.

Pulling a mask and an oxygen cart over, he tried to place the mask over her nose and mouth, but even with her strength all but sapped, she tried to fight him. With Anja’s help, he managed to strap her arms to the bed with a pair of restraints, but she simply held her breath. Akleyn smiled down at her.

“My cousin Ryion used to do this when he was five,” he remarked.

He pinched her nostrils shut with one hand while holding the mask with the other.

“I strongly suggest you start breathing,” he advised her in his best clinical voice. “I can’t be responsible for any loss of bladder or bowel control if you pass out, but you will breathe one way or another. Whether you’re conscious for the occasion is up to you, but I’m not cleaning up any messes.”

Qedai glowered at him but relented. He placed the mask over her face and continued rubbing her damaged throat. She tried to speak but he hushed her again. Only after several minutes of breathing the oxygen and drinking a glass of water did he allow her to sit up and speak.

“Now, do you want to talk about this?” Akleyn asked her.

She shook her head fiercely.

“Good. I don’t either,” he told her. “I’ll just comm your big boss and he can sort you out after they shove you in a padded cell. That’ll be better for both of us.”

He rose to leave, fishing for his comlink inside his pocket.

“Wait,” Qedai croaked.

Akleyn half-turned, comlink in hand.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to leave me too?” Qedai asked mournfully.

“What do you mean?” Akleyn asked.

“They all keep leaving me,” Qedai said. “I wanted to join them.”

“Who?”

“Everyone. My father. My mother. Ariada. Ryion. Zeyn. Morgedh. Now you,” Qedai listed off. “I couldn’t handle it any more. I wanted to leave too, before the Vong came.”

She drew her legs up to her chest and hugged her knees, looking sadder and more forlorn than Akleyn had ever seen her. It was a stark contrast to the strong, confident Twi’lek woman he had occasionally seen at family gatherings in years past.

“As far as I know, several of those people are still alive,” Akleyn pointed out.

“Not for long,” Qedai answered gloomily. “They’ll leave me too.”

Akleyn looked around, then muttered.

“I won’t leave until you want me to.”

“Why not?”

He shot a glare at Anja, then sat down on the bed beside Qedai, adopting his doctor’s voice once more.

“Because you need me here. I’m not in the habit of abandoning my friends.”

“You don’t have any friends,” she retorted. “I’ve seen you—or before this planet, not seen you on Yanibar.”

“That so?” Akleyn replied. “Then I’m pretty sure I understand what you’re going through.”

“You might be just as miserable, but you don’t have the courage to do anything about it except drink yourself into a constant stupor,” Qedai told him. “And you still have people that care about you—but you just blow them off. You have no idea what I’m going through.”

“At some other time, I might take offense to those words,” Akleyn said dryly. “And I would hardly call attempting to hang yourself from a crude noose the height of courage in compared with some of the other things I’ve heard about you doing.”

“You should have let me do it,” Qedai said fiercely. “You had no right to interfere.”

“Let’s not insult each others’ intelligence,” Akleyn said. “You’re telling me that you, a trained Force-user with who knows how many weapons in this room, decided to kill yourself by hanging a noose from the ceiling and jumping off the bed. You had the door open until someone found you. I don’t know how much more obvious you could have been. You didn’t want to die, Qedai. You were willing to, but you were really hoping that someone would find you and care enough to save you. Well, here we are.”

“You’re making that up,” Qedai said, but her faltering voice betrayed her.

“Am I?” Akleyn said. “You mean I’m expected to believe that the weak Force attacks you threw at us were anything but a desperate plea? You’re a Zeison Sha with plenty of objects to throw. It would have taken almost no effort to knock us both out with some good tosses. You wanted to be found. There’s not even a suicide note.”

“I was—am serious about it,” Qedai told him.

“So am I,” Akleyn replied. “I think deep down, you’ve got something telling you that you have more in life ahead of you, but you’re just afraid of doing it alone, that it hurts too much. Am I right?”

She nodded slowly.

“Then let’s not talk about suicide,” Akleyn said. “You can rebuild your life, and you won’t be alone.”

“Who’s going to help me?” she asked. “You? You’re just as. . .”

He held up a hand.

“As miserable, I know, you told me already. If you’d prefer, I can still call Master Kraen.”

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly.

“Didn’t think so,” he answered. “I never did claim to be much of a people person, but I do have some experience with helping traumatized Force-users recover from significant losses. If I can help in any way, let me know. Even if it’s just talking.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to be bunking in here the next few days to keep an eye on you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Maybe not, but it’s happening anyway,” Akleyn said.

“I can sit in here while you’re on shift,” Anja offered, then gestured at her leg. “Not like I’m going anywhere soon right now.”

“I appreciate that,” Akleyn replied, then turned to Qedai. “See? You have at least two people looking out for you.”

“What about you, Akleyn?” Qedai asked. “Who’s looking out for you?”

Akleyn was suddenly silent. He looked away for a moment, then turned back.

“One thing at a time. Just rest while I get my things.”

He rose and headed for the door while Anja remained behind on watch. A short while later, he began settling his meager belongings into the mostly-empty VIP ward where Anja sat watching. Qedai had fallen asleep.

“Thank you,” Anja said suddenly.

“I should be thanking you,” Akleyn answered. “You don’t even know her, but Qedai is practically family.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Anja replied curtly. “Thank you for proving that you do have a heart somewhere in there.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you set me up,” Akleyn told her. “Qedai wasn’t faking it and I don’t begrudge helping her, but I hope you’re happy with what you saw.”

“One life was saved, possibly another on the mend as well,” she said with a shrug. “I’m no doctor, but that seems like a good outcome as any.”

“What kind of mending do you think I need?” Akleyn asked skeptically.

“I dunno, maybe you should try some of that medicine you gave her,” Anja replied. “That part about going ahead in life despite the losses and pain. About finding those other people who care about you and letting them help.”

Akleyn glared at her, then nodded towards the door.

“It’s time you were back in your bed,” he said. “I’ll leave instructions with the officers to make sure you can get in here when I’m gone.”

She accepted the command, knowing that it would be pointless to press him further tonight. He was clearly worn out from the demands of the day, combined with the added strain of talking down a suicidal Twi’lek.

“Good night, Akleyn,” she said.

“Good night, Anja,” he replied gruffly. “Thanks again for caring.”

She looked back just in time to catch the barest glimpse of a slight smile creasing his face. Then he sobered up and nodded curtly so she turned and left, hobbling back to her room.


 * The next day

“Uh, Ryion, you might want to take this one,” Zeyn said from his cramped seat inside the vessel carefully hidden at the far edges of the Rishi system.

“Why’s that?” Ryion asked from the alcove where he was similarly tucked away.

“It’s your father.”

“Really? I wasn’t expecting him for another ten minutes,” Ryion said casually. “He’s smarter than I figured him to be.”

“Let’s hope you’re in as laughing of a mood when he gets done with you,” Zeyn warned him. “Patching him through, audio only.”

He hit a button and the signal was rerouted into Ryion’s earpiece comlink.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Ryion?” Selu demanded.

“Finishing what I started,” Ryion replied cryptically.

“And what exactly is that?” Selu asked, a hard edge apparent in his voice.

“Saving the people of Chalacta,” Ryion answered. “That’s what I came here to do. I had a vision, Dad, where the spirit of a Jedi Master came to me and pleaded for my help. Remember?”

“I do,” Selu said grimly. “And what concerns me is to what extent you are wiling to go to carry out this mission.”

“Nothing more than you would have done at my age,” Ryion replied. “Or have you forgotten Emberlene?”

The words escaped Ryion’s lips even though he knew all-too-well that Selu had definitely not forgotten Emberlene.

“Millions of people died because of my actions on Emberlene,” Selu reminded him bitterly. “Many of them were civilians.”

“That’s where I’m a step ahead of you, father,” Ryion answered, his tone bordering on insolence. “I doubt there are civilians on a Yuuzhan Vong warship.”

“Don’t push me, Ryion,” Selu said. “This idea of yours is reckless—it could get you killed, and Zeyn too. Yes, I know you dragged him into this.”

“He volunteered,” Ryion responded lightly. “Are you going to tell me that you wouldn’t have tried something similar at my age?”

There was momentary silence from the other end.

“I would have, and I would have been a damn fool for doing it,” Selu told him. “I don’t know the details of what you’re doing, but I can guess that it’s unwise. You’re in over your head.”

“What I am going to do is infiltrate the Yuuzhan Vong enemy flagship and rescue the prisoners, then detonate a seismic charge inside it,” Ryion answered.

Another silence.

“You’re crazier than I suspected,” Selu said quietly. “Do you want me to explain to your mother how you and Zeyn ended up dead or worse at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong?”

The thought gave Ryion momentary pause, but he pressed on resolutely.

“Do you want to explain to her why we left dozens of Yanibar Guard personnel to be tortured and killed at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong?” he replied. “Zeyn and I can do this, Dad. We were trained to do this.”

“I know what you’re capable of,” Selu bit out. “But I don’t want you to become the next Anakin Solo. This war has enough dead heroes already.”

“I have to do this, Dad,” Ryion said. “Those prisoners, every member of the Yanibar Guard over Rishi, they’re here because of me. I owe it to them.”

Selu took a deep breath.

“I suppose it’d take too long to find and stop you,” he replied. “What do you need done to pull this off?”

“Just carry on with your plan,” Ryion told him. “When you use those yammosk jammers you built from the New Republic data, we’ll make our play. The Vong will welcome us in with open arms and we’ll gut them from within.”

“You better hope so,” Selu answered. “There will be no extraction attempt if things go poorly.”

“I understand,” Ryion told him.

“Then may the Force be with you,” Selu said. “I hope for your sake that you’re right.”

The comlink chirped, indicating the transmission had been terminated.

“What do you think?” Ryion asked Zeyn conversationally. “Is he okay with this idea?”

“Yeah,” Zeyn said. “He’s probably just mad he didn’t think of this first.”

“I don’t think anyone else would have thought of this,” Ryion said. “Who else would have thought to use a captured Vong shuttle from the Vigilant Refuge as our ticket into their flagship.”

“Maybe not,” Zeyn replied doubtfully. “Don’t underestimate Uncle Selu.”

“So, do you think we sold him on our plan?” Ryion asked.

Zeyn shrugged.

“Seems that way.”


 * Yanibar Guard Tactical Command, Rishi

“So, do you think we sold him on our plan?” Selu asked Jan Ors.

“Seems that way,” the intelligence agent replied. “Though all this plotting and anticipating is a bit much, don’t you think?”

“It pays to plan ahead,” Selu told her. “They won’t even know what hit them until it’s too late.”

Jan shook her head doubtfully.

“I sure hope they play into your hands the way you think they will.”

“Of course they won’t,” Selu answered evenly. “But as long as it’s close, we just might pull through this. I’m headed upstairs to the Lightbearer to coordinate the fleet action. If I bring you along, do you think you can stay there and keep an eye on this plan without snooping around or causing trouble?”

“Who, me?” Jan replied, her face the picture of innocence.

Selu rolled his eyes.

“You better take your ship,” he said. “I’ll see you in orbit.”


 * Yuuzhan Vong Grand Cruiser Bloodthirster 

Tsaruuk stood quietly in the recesses of the bridge near the villip choir, cleaning the coufee knife he had been using earlier. As usual, the Yuuzhan Vong warrior was contemplative, preferring the company of his own thoughts. Kroi Taak was dead and Yiu Shac no doubt light years across the galaxy, so he had few that he trusted implicitly. Before him sat the blaze bug display, where he had watched the insects display the convoy battle and the earlier space engagement over and over. And while Tsaruuk would hardly have voiced this opinion, something like admiration for the infidels’ tactics had been instilled in him.

While the warrior had no qualms about sending in his underlings to die, he certainly had no desire to waste lives needlessly in order to achieve victory. He saw similar thought patterns reflected in the tactics of the infidels. Wanton destruction was not part of their credo. It was a philosophy that resonated within Tsaruuk. He was almost sorry to have to destroy such like-minded individuals—like-minded in strategic theory anyway. They were infidels and as such their foul, polluted society had to be purged from the galaxy in order for the Yuuzhan Vong to claim their rightful inheritance from the gods. Or so the priests said anyway—Tsaruuk had always done his due diligence to the gods, but was hardly one of the most pious adherents. He preferred to rely on his own brains and the tools at his disposal.

So whereas some Yuuzhan Vong warriors would have taken the two messages he had just received as a divine gift, Tsaruuk took one as a well-laid plan coming to fruition and the other as an added opportunity. Still, Tsaruuk had only been expecting one message. The fact that he had received two told him that there was something terribly wrong out there.

The Yuuzhan Vong smiled grimly as he whetted the coufee knife. The infidels would strike soon and when they did, he would be ready. He had already provided instructions on how to deal with the two messages and would resolve the the loose ends once Rishi was taken. And Rishi would fall.

While he might harbor some admiration for how the infidels thought in terms of efficiency, in the end, it would all be in vain. The defenders would either retreat to perish some other day, or they would die here. For Tsaruuk already knew the endgame. It was a gift, to receive inspiration and confidence on how the major details of the battle would occur. He would play along with the infidels for only so long, and then he would sink his claws in deep.

The expected attack came eight hours later, while he was resting in his chambers. One of his aides summoned him via villip and he made his way to the bridge.

“The infidel fleet is breaking orbit,” the subaltern reported. “They are heading for our minefield, no doubt intent on breaking out.”

Tsaruuk gave no outward sign, but inside, he was swelling with satisfaction. Just as he had planned. He turned to his villip choir mistress.

“Tell the ground commander to commence attack,” he said. “Navigator, plot me all available courses to intercept the infidel fleet.”

Seconds later, the dutiful navigator had traced out the patterns on the blaze bug display, arranging several small glowing insects in patterns that represented the courses they could take.

“This will not do,” Tsaruuk told him with a frown. “Give me something more. . . circuitous.”

The navigator looked confused, but was loyal enough to do as ordered without question. A minute later, a new selection of courses hovered in front of Tsaruuk. Nodding with satisfaction, he chose one.

“The first two wedges are to deploy on this course,” he said. “Have Bloodthirster lag behind. Have the other two squadrons emerge here as a reserve.”

A murmur rose from the crew pits. No doubt they were questioning the courage of a leader who would place his command ship in the rear of the fighting, as if to avoid casualties or combat. Such an act would be the height of dishonor, akin to waving a lightsaber or bringing an infidel machine onto the bridge.

“Fear not, we shall have plenty of fighting,” Tsaruuk assured the other warriors. “The infidels will come to us. The prisoners we have in our ship will draw them out.”