| abstract
| - 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.”
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