Moments of Truth/Part 14

"You should've let me kill them," Bras Kozondo growled.

You're a servant; remember your place or I'll help you remember, a queen might have said.

Killing should be our last resort, a Jedi might have said.

I should've let you try—and once Tirien Kal-Di gutted you, I could've proceeded to something resembling a sensible plan without you gumming up my good works, the dark side might have said.

But a coalition was a fragile thing, like glass—even if a blow didn't shatter it, hairline cracks could never be repaired; they would always be there, maddening, making them wonder whether it might be best thrown out entirely. So what Maia Kyss actually said instead was, "Tactics, First Knight. The two girls might not be much of a challenge, but Kal-Di is a force to be reckoned with."

"So let's take him," Bras said. "All three of us, three on one; he can't be that powerful. Once he's dead, we can polish off the Zygerrian.  Maybe keep the Twi'lek around for amusement."

Maia did not reply at once, gazing down on the landscape and the distant sunset behind the hills. Even from the topmost tower of Kharkûskyat, their palace and fortress, she could not see distant Marekka. Kharkûskyat had been constructed to withstand assault by a horde of disenchanted Guudrians, but it would not stop the determined onslaught of a Jedi Knight. Maia discovered she had grown accustomed to the feeling of relative safety here, the ability to relax and let some of her guard down, and being deprived of that made her shiver.

Of course, it was only relative safety, and she could only let down some of her guard. Kharkûskyat still sat in the shadow of the Cold Lands, the barren hills a sea of burial mounds, whence came the howling wind and the soft Whispers, colder still. And all the castle's walls could not defend against those permitted inside.

"Amusement?" Jirdo repeated. Part of Maia was reassured by his obvious discomfort, while another part reflected that he would be the weak link in their defense against the Jedi invasion.

"It's been almost a year since that Zeltron came in on the cargo ship," Bras answered. Maia felt him approaching her from behind, but forced herself not to move. "Of course, she's not ideal…"

Bras brushed one finger down Maia's back, and she gritted her teeth. Determined to maintain her cool, she turned and swatted his hand away without looking at him, pacing off into the center of the tower room. She sensed Bras's frustration, but since her instinct had been to seize him with the Force and hurl him off the tower, she thought he could go right on being frustrated. "I'm sure you could have your pick of the Guudrians, First Knight."

She sensed his revulsion and smiled. "That's disgusting."

Glancing back, she made a point of eyeing his thick head-tails and tall horns before she nodded. "Funny, isn't it? How you can spend so much time around another species, but the thought of actually being with them still makes you sick?"

Bras's face darkened, but Maia turned away. Nine years of his infatuation had made her numb to it, though of late she'd had to swat him down harder than before. Just one more sign that things were in flux, pieces falling into place at last. And that thought brought her back to Kal-Di and stole the moment's amusement.

"Jirdo, how long until the last shrines are finished?" she asked.

"Another month or two at least."

"Sure you can't find new ways to…motivate them?" Bras asked.

Jirdo made a face. "Even if I did, getting everything right isn't something to rush. You know the plans; everything has to be perfect."

Maia grimaced and Bras cracked his knuckles; she suspected he shared her unease at the reminder. "It's too much time. These Jedi, Kal-Di and the others…they might hold at Marekka for a few days, but if we try to wait them out, eventually they'll come here."

"That Twi'lek's no Jedi," Bras said. "She's a Sith if I've ever met one."

"If she was a Sith, wouldn't she have fought back?" Jirdo asked.

"Kal-Di must have her under his thumb," Bras reasoned. "If we pick them off, we can bait her into doing something stupid."

"Assuming they're foolish enough to split up," said Maia. "They all look like seasoned fighters; if we try to wait for them to make a mistake like that, we may be waiting a long time."

She looked at the circular table in the center of the room, carved to show Kharkûskyat and its ring of vassal villages. "We're so close now…it's been nine years, and we've made hard choices here, but we're close to the end—close to fulfilling our purpose here. Once the shrines are finished our subjects will be safe and we can rule in peace; we need to do whatever's necessary to get there."

Bras nodded, but Jirdo said, "We can't destroy Marekka; we need the shrine."

"So we're back to killing the Jedi," Bras pointed out. He strolled to the table, but he stood a little away from Maia, which she appreciated. "So let's get it done."

"We need to think carefully," Maia said. "They've shaken our grip loose after that first round; if we attack and fail again, they might break free."

"The quarantine was a good idea," Jirdo said, taking a spot at the table too. "It'll keep their heresy from spreading."

Heresy. Even after all this time, Maia found it hard to tell whether Jirdo used the language in private so he didn't slip up in public, or if he had embraced the faith himself. "So long as it holds."

"Our forces should be there in a week at most," Bras said. "Once they are, they can enforce the quarantine, or just take the village. If the Jedi have to decide between slaughtering them or standing by and doing nothing…"

"Assuming it comes to that," Jirdo said. "When they show up, Boss Mukka might just surrender."

"That's all true, but we can't wait that long," Maia said. "What's our plan of attack?"

Bras put his hands on the table between villages, and the sunset gleamed in his dark eyes. "We should consult the Whispers."

"Why is that always your first resort lately?" Jirdo demanded. Maia had a theory—one she thought Jirdo shared, but she dared not give it voice to ask.

"This isn't a routine problem," Bras retorted. "You heard Maia—this Jedi's a major threat, and they have two more Force users besides. We can't trip at the finish line."

Maia walked away from the table and back to the balcony, looking out over the hills, where the failing sunlight died entirely. She knew she could ask, and receive all the power she would need to crush Kal-Di and his lackeys, but at what cost? She had resisted the growing temptation all these years, and they were so close now…she had only to endure this last trial before everything was better…before everyone was safe…

Yours is a great and unparalleled destiny, Maia. She remembered Coshal's words as if they had been spoken yesterday rather than a decade ago. Only through your actions will the Sith be defeated.

"Not yet," she decided. A bitter wind came down from the north and chilled her, and she stepped back inside. "We're not there yet. That's a last resort."

"Maia, we can't fail now," Bras said.

Though she kept her face smooth and regal as befit a queen, the intensity of his gaze disturbed her. Was it obsession, or a hint of fear? And which was the more dangerous?

"Not yet," she repeated in her queen's voice to end the discussion. "We'll deal with Kal-Di ourselves—test his limits and what he's willing to do. We'll be enough."

Jirdo bowed his head. Bras did too, but he looked up from beneath his brows and asked, "And if we're not, Your Majesty?"

Maia held her misgivings close to her heart and far from her face. After everything she had done to carry out the destiny the Force had ordained for her, everything she had become, to see it all turn to dust… "You said it yourself, First Knight—we can't fail now.  At the utmost end of need…we'll do whatever we have to."