| abstract
| - The Yanibar Guard task force emerged from hyperspace in the Rishi system five days after its departure from Ord Pardron without its typical benefit of hyperspace probes. The system was not expected to be heavily defended and they had needed speed to reach their destination as opposed to accurate reconnaissance. Yanibar Guard Fleet doctrine normally required fleet commanders to deploy a few light years from their final destination and send reconnaissance probes first, but Commodore Arystek had been advised to proceed to Rishi with all speed and so had overruled that in favor of jumping into the outer edges of the system, where they would be in position to dominate the hyperlane. Or so they had thought. In between their jump and Qedai’s last transmission, the small Yuuzhan Vong force had interdicted Rishi, positioning itself to cut off the inbound hyperlane. While in hyperspace, the Yanibar Guard had been unable to receive communications or scan for hostile ships. Now, as the whirling dimensional tunnel of hyperspace resolved itself into starfield, Commodore Arystek was startled to find several rocky lumps alarmingly close to her fleet. Immediately warnings began to blare throughout the bridge. “Ma’am, Yuuzhan Vong ships detected in close proximity!” her sensor officer reported. “Move the fleet into protective formation!” she replied quickly. “All batteries fire at will! Launch all fighters!” As the bridge shook itself from a heightened alert into full battle alert status, the commodore continued to briskly bark orders even as she filtered out the stream of data flowing to her from subordinates and the holodisplay in front of her. “Redeploy the Atarus and the Windu for a flank assault,” she said as she studied the Yuuzhan Vong formation turning to engage her. “They seem as surprised to see this large of a group here.” “Commodore, estimates show that our fleet displacement is only thirty percent stronger than theirs and they may have reinforcements,” the captain of the Windu advised her. “We cannot afford to be pinned here.” “I agree, Captain,” she said. “Our orders are to reach that planet. We’ll slice through them quickly, punch through to Rishi, pick up our people, and get out. I doubt they can turn swiftly enough to catch us.” The twelve YGF ships quickly slid into place, with the three Niman-class cruiser-carriers and four Makashi-class frigates screening the Vigilant Refuge while the Soresu-class Fleet Defender Mace Windu and the three Ataru-class gunships slid to the side in a flanking formation. Down in the Vigilant Refuge’s lower decks, Jasika had been sitting with the other Paladins in the squadron ready room, talking casually about the last battle. While still festooned in her pilot’s gear, ready to fly, she and the rest of Paladin Squadron were not anticipating a call to man their craft. Instead, she was sitting back comfortably, her booted feet up on a table, looking at cannon-holo footage. The other pilots were similarly relaxed, munching on post-battle snacks or playing sabacc. That was when the alarm sounded. The good mood and cheer instantly evaporated as if hit by a torpedo, replaced by a mad scramble for the door and a short race to the hangar where their refueled and rearmed fighters were awaiting them. Jasika’s heart immediately began racing. They were under attack? She was caught off guard, unsure and bewildered by the sudden call to action. Anxiety swelled within her and she was slow to get out of the ready room as she struggled to collect her wits. “We’ve reverted right in front of a Vong fleet!” Commander Mada told them as he received information from his earpiece comlink. “We need to punch through them and escort the rest of the task force to Rishi.” Jasika nodded as she struggled to pull on her helmet while jogging to her fighter. Klaxons wailed through the hangar and the sound of shouted instructions was largely drowned out by the thunderous whine of three dozen repulsorlift engines powering up simultaneously. She leaped into her cockpit and, fastening the seat harness, ran through an abbreviated checklist. The fighter squadrons had received orders to launch as soon as they were ready and Jasika was following the rest of the Paladins out of the carrier’s hangar decks in short order, zooming into space. The fighters managed to deploy just as the Yanibar Guard fleet closed into effective weaponry range of their antagonists. Immediately, space between the two opposing forces lit up with weapons fire in the form of violet energy bursts and blue missile trails from the YGF squadron returned by dark green grutchins and ochre streaks of molten plasma lancing from the Yuuzhan Vong armada. Hordes of starfighters issued from both fleets, with the swarm of coralskippers running first into a massed formation of aged Vulture droid starfighters launched from the Vigilant Refuge to blunt the Yuuzhan Vong assault and open up gaps in their fleet. The droids were expected to take heavy losses, but their numbers and willingness to be used in suicide attacks would help soften the Yuuzhan Vong. Behind them followed a dozen squadrons from the Yanibar Guard fleet, including the Paladins, assigned to assault the Yuuzhan Vong warships. “Form on me, Paladins,” Commander Mada ordered. “We’re escorting a squadron of B-wings to knock out some of those Vong heavies.” Jasika clicked her comlink in acknowledgment and tightened up her formation alongside the commander as they rocketed towards the thick of the engagement with a dozen of the cruciform assault starfighters following behind the Paladins. The Paladins split into three quartets to cover the B-wings from multiple angles, a maneuver that left Jasika, Commander Mada, and two other pilots as the only escort craft in front of the B-wings and charged with both drawing defensive fire from the capital ships and fending off head-on assaults from the attacking coralskippers. Swooping down on a Yuuzhan Vong frigate, Jasika seemed to be staring up at a rainstorm of fiery streaks based on the volume of plasma globules surging past her canopy. She desperately juked, relying on reflexes and instinct to dodge each of the deadly projectiles homing towards her craft. Glancing hits struck her shields, bouncing and jostling her starfighter even as she fought to both evade fire and stay alongside her wingmate. “One Flight, torpedoes, amidship and aft,” Commander Mada ordered. Jasika clicked her comlink again and toggled on her torpedo targeting system, hovering the reticule over the organiform Yuuzhan Vong warship’s rocky mass. Another barrage of plasma fire from shorter-ranged weapons slammed into the Paladins’ formation, hammering her shields. “Release and break,” the commander instructed. Jasika waited until the reticule indicated a target lock, then thumbed the torpedo fire button twice, sending two of the weapons streaking towards the frigate on fiery trails of blue exhaust. She immediately pulled away—ordinarily a bad tactic, since enemy gunners would anticipate such a move. However, her flight was drawing fire away from the more heavily-armed B-wings and the diversion seemed to be working. Her shields blew out in a quick shower of sparks as her Sabre II was hammered by plasma fire. Immediately, her cockpit diagnostics lit up with amber and red warning lights and the wounded starfighter began beeping and shrieking. She attempted to barrel roll through the onslaught, but found that the maneuver took much longer than she had anticipated, resulting on another strike on her port stabilizer. Her control surfaces were damaged, the starfighter now sluggish to respond to her touch. Another wave of projectiles skimmed over the top of her craft and she deftly juked under them even as they colored her field of vision with crimson streaks of molten plasma. The angle was wrong for them to have come from the frigate and risked a glance at the sensor board. Her sensors revealed that she’d been split from her wingman and now there were two coralskippers on her tail. Not good. “Twelve here, picked up a couple tails,” she reported. Jasika snapped her Sabre II into another break turn away from the Yuuzhan Vong squadron, hoping to deter her pursuers. No such luck. The two alien spacecraft easily outmaneuvered her and cut inside her turn, sending jagged globules of plasma crisscrossing her flight path. In desperation, Jasika punched off a torpedo straight ahead and detonated it as soon as she was clear of the blast radius. The explosion knocked away enough of the plasma projectiles to prevent them from riddling her wounded fighter, but she was forced to fly through it, cooking her sensors and overloading her laser cannons. Now she was blind, crippled, defenseless, and all but unarmed. However, some inner strength arose within her, and willed her to keep fighting, keep surviving. She had faith that if she held out a little longer, that help would come her way. She stomped on her etheric rudder pedals, slewing out of the line of fire of the coralskippers momentarily. The few seconds that action bought were precious indeed and she twisted away from them further. Their superior maneuverability soon had the two determined foes on her tail again, but again, her courage did not falter. Jasika would keep fighting until her foes were destroyed or she was. “Break port, Twelve,” came the welcome sound of Commander Mada’s voice. She complied even as Yuuzhan Vong plasma globs were redirected in her direction, forcing her to abort her turn or else have her nose completely shot away. However, she noticed several oncoming ships heading right at her, thankfully the disk-shaped profiles of YGF Maelstroms rather than the lumpy outlines of coralskippers. They shot past her, laser cannons blazing. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw two messy explosions were all that remained of her pursuit. “What’s your status, Twelve?” Mada asked. “Not good,” she said. “My ship’s pretty banged up.” “Copy that,” he replied. “Your transmitter is hit too, couldn’t hear you until we got closer.” “Understood. Sorry I lost you back there.” “Should’ve been clearer.” He paused and Jasika wondered what he was going to say next. She and the rest of the flight seemed to be away from the engagement and she wondered if the B-wing attack run had been successful. “New orders,” he said. “Fall back to the VR and move past the Vong fleet. We’re heading to Rishi.” Jasika clicked her comlink and cruised her crippled starfighter towards the cluster of Yanibar Guard ships, which had sliced through the Yuuzhan Vong formation and was now leaving the enemy force behind. Her squadmates shepherded her in towards the hangar bay even as another group of ships approached the Yanibar Guard fleet from the direction of Rishi. Thankfully, Jasika was able to limp into the hangar bay. However, when she tried to cut in her repulsorlifts, she found they were inoperable. Similarly, her landing gear would not deploy and she was going way too fast. “Control, no repulsors, no gear,” she said as she zoomed through the hangar bay—which was fortunately mostly empty. She was going to run out of hangar space soon, and either impact messily into the back of ship, or else barely manage to zoom into space once more, which would leave her in the same perilous situation as before. “Copy that, Paladin Twelve,” Control said. “Attempt to slow yourself and aim for the aft hangar exit.” Jasika complied, reversing thrust in an attempt to slow her starfighter down. Around her, hangar personnel and technicians dove for safety as she screamed past them. The meters of the dull gray hangar bay flew past all too quickly, despite her efforts to slow herself. She was going to crash. Then, inexplicably but inexorably, her craft seemed to sink towards the deck, shedding velocity at an increased rate. The starfighter hit the deck with a piercing shriek, bounced several nerve-wracking times, then finally skidded to a stop at an oblique angle in a shower of sparks, perfectly still, and less than fifty meters from the aft hangar entrance. Jasika looked in awe at the starfighter, confounded for an answer as to how her ship had slowed to a stop so quickly when it had seemed like she was going to crash spectacularly. Hastily, she remembered to power down the engines and other systems, then looked to see a wave of techs, droids, and an emergency medical team racing towards her ship, hosing it down with fire suppressants. Behind them, she saw a petite blue-skinned Twi’lek female facing her starfighter, arms extended, eyes closed in concentration. As Jasika gawked, the Twi’lek’s arms lowered and she opened her eyes to look at Jasika. She bowed slightly in Jasika’s direction, then turned and departed. Jasika shook her head, as she realized that the Twi’lek was a Force-user, and had apparently just used telekinesis to arrest her starfighter before it could crash. Belatedly she wondered if the reserves of perseverance she had experienced in the battle had been created or bolstered by the Twi’lek as well—such a thing was no doubt possible for masters of the Force. At that moment, her concentration was disrupted by a group of medics clambering frantically up to her canopy, checking to see if she was injured. Chastened, she returned her focus to the present and popped the canopy, allowing herself to be helped out of the cockpit and hustled off to the medical bay for examination and possible treatment. On the bridge of the Vigilant Refuge, Commodore Arystek watched as the last of her ships cleared the Yuuzhan Vong fleet and moved past it towards the blue-green orb of Rishi. The Yuuzhan Vong did not seem incline to pursue—especially after having lost a pair of frigates and a handful of starfighters in exchange for severe damage to the Ataru-class gunship Jurokk and a dozen starfighter casualties. The engagement had been vicious but short, with neither side desiring to turn it into a pitched battle. What concerned her more was the motley group of ships approaching her from Rishi. Long-range sensors had detected several starfighter types employed by the New Republic, and it was likely that these were planetary defense forces. However, given that her mission was to extract the YGI team from Rishi’s surface, she was not about to let them stop her. Her fleet, while weakened, was more than capable of plowing through this fleet group as well and proceeding to Rishi. She had no stomach for another fight, but until she had new instructions from Admiral Cyrreso or Master Kraen, the commodore was free to exercise her own judgment. She turned to see a blue-skinned Twi’lek wearing gray robes slip up beside her. The naval officer acknowledged her presence with a curt nod. “Master Zamara, did you get the situation you sensed in the hangar bay cleared?” “Yes, Commodore. The pilot and her starfighter are safely landed.” “Thank you, then, and for the help of your battle meditation as well. I could see the difference, could almost feel it turn the tide overwhelmingly in our favor.” Not being Force-sensitive, the commodore was generally uneasy in the presence of powerful Force-users, and Master Zamara had only recently been assigned as the Elite Guardian representative on the Vigilant Refuge. The tall Twi’lek carried herself with an air of gravity and serenity at all times and her presence bespoke authority. Even the veteran naval officer wasn’t exactly sure how to address someone who was technically under her authority only for as long as she chose to be. While Zamara’s directive from the Council of the Elites placed her mission as supporting the Vigilant Refuge and its supporting ships with her Force powers, particularly battle meditation, Commodore Arystek also knew that Zamara had the freedom to alter her priorities at will. “You are welcome, Commodore,” Zamara answered her coolly. “I am glad to have been of assistance.” “We might need some more of that soon,” the commodore said, “depending on what this next group of ships wants. I used most of my Vulture droids in suicide runs on the Vong to lessen the casualties. If we have to fight again, we’ll take more losses.” “They are not Yuuzhan Vong opponents, at least,” Zamara informed her. “I can sense them in the Force, which will make battle meditation more effective on them since I can affect them as well.” “Good to know, though I’d rather not get into a fight if we can talk our way out of it.” “A wise course of action.” “I’m not comfortable negotiating without too much authority, though. This is matter that should be handled above my pay grade. I have priority communication codes to Yanibar Guard Fleet Command, but it’s a dreadful time of day there and last I remember, Admiral Cyrreso was recovering from an illness.” “You have not been able to reach Master Kraen?” “There’s been some stalling on that end,” the commodore explained. “Something about how he is unavailable due to official business and that my message is not ranked of a high enough priority to disturb him.” “I will see what I can do then,” Zamara replied, slipping away as quietly as she had come. As the Force-user left, Commodore Arystek turned her attention to the approaching ships. “Guess we better get this over with. Comms, get me a signal to those ships, open channel.” The order was swiftly carried out and Arystek walked over to the holoprojector so the transmitter could send her holo. Per Yanibar Guard protocol when dealing with hostile or unknown ships, she did not state the name of her ship, her affiliation, nor her true name. “I am Commodore Aurek, speaking to approaching ships. What are your intentions?” There was a slight delay, then a deep male voice, probably human, replied. “Sorry for the quality, Commodore, we only have audio comms. We were coming up to help you against that Vong fleet, but you appear to have blasted through them with no problem.” “And you are?” she asked. “The name’s Derek Klivian and you’re looking at a mixture of volunteers and Rishian defense force ships. We’ve been trying to find a way past that Vong blockade for the past five days—whoever you are, we appreciate the help.” “The Yuuzhan Vong are no friends of ours,” the commodore told him. “Great,” Klivian replied. “If you’re willing to help us a little more and go for round two, we could finish off that fleet once and for all.” “Not wise,” she told him. “We’ve just learned that a much larger Yuuzhan Vong fleet is on its way and could be here in up to four days. Destroying this one will accomplish nothing.” That much was true, as probes left behind in the Ord Pardron system had detected a large Yuuzhan Vong force, much larger than Arystek’s fleet, arrive insystem at Ord Pardron, orbit for twelve hours, then jump on a vector towards Rishi. That meant they could be here within four and a half days, depending on their speed. “And we just learned that a Peace Brigade fleet will be here in five,” Klivian returned. “All the more reason to take out this fleet quickly so we can evacuate. Are you in?” The commodore bit her lip. It was a natural request for him to make, but it was outside of her mission parameters. She was here to extract a YGI team, not join planetary defense forces in attacking the Yuuzhan Vong. Irritatingly, that team hadn’t shown itself or attempted contact with her, and she was under orders not to reveal her objectives, which meant she couldn’t attempt contacting them. “I’m afraid that disrupting the Yuuzhan Vong presence here is only a secondary objective of mine. We have other objectives on Rishi.” “And what might those be?” Klivian asked, obviously perturbed. “I’m not at liberty to divulge that.” “Let me guess, you’re not at liberty to divulge who your little fleet comes from or answers to either?” Klivian asked sarcastically. “I’m afraid not.” “Well, I answer to a lot of people on that planet, Commodore. And that means that if your intentions towards Rishi are hostile, I’m going to have to get in your way.” “That would be both suicidal and unnecessary,” Arystek returned evenly. “My fleet means you and Rishi no harm. All we wish is to complete our mission.” “The one you won’t tell us about,” Klivian retorted. Arystek ground her teeth in frustration. While it might be easier just to tell Klivian she was trying to extract some YGI agents, that also meant he could use them as hostages if he had them in his custody—a real possibility given that her briefs had indicated that at least one team member was being held by the planetary government. “I can tell you this much. We’re not going anywhere until we obtain some more information related to our mission.” “Wow, this has been a great conversation so far,” Klivian answered her sardonically. “You’ve told me almost nothing about you. Tell you what, as long as you and your fleet sit between the Vong and us, I’m fine with it. My earlier warning stands, call me if you want to have a real discussion, or maybe go to a Vong-smashing party.” The link terminated, leaving Arystek annoyed. Communications protocols and mission security and a lack of direction on how to handle this situation had left her without much to go on. For now, she would have to wait until the YGI team contacted her fleet, or until Master Kraen contacted her with more orders. “Set the fleet into defensive formation, keep clear of both forces. I want battle damage reports and repairs underway, keep at least six squadrons launched at all times. Everyone stays on standby.” As she finished rattling off her orders, Arystek noticed Zamara had reappeared alongside her. Though startled by her silent approach, Arystek let nothing beyond a sidelong glance evoke her surprise. “Master Kraen will speak with you very shortly,” Zamara answered in her ubiquitously calm voice. “Good,” Arystek grumbled. “Maybe he can shed some light on what exactly I’m supposed to do and how I’m supposed to do it. I don’t see the team I’m supposed to extract and without landing people on Rishi, it’s going to be hard to find them.” “Perhaps not,” Zamara suggested mildly, then turned to slip off again. “Whatever that means,” Arystek muttered after her. “I’ll never figure them out, as long as I live.” Rishi Ryion sat shirtless on the bed with one leg thrust out in front of them. Leaning forward, he grabbed his foot and stretched, wincing at the ache evoked from the still-healing tissue. He’d been cooped up in this room for five days now, and while Shara had untied him and provided him with clothing four days earlier, she had not said he was allowed to leave the room. Instead, he had exercised and focused on continuing to heal his remaining wounds so he could return to fighting shape as quickly as possible. He had used his Force powers in a limited fashion, not knowing if Katarn could or would sense him, so his progress had been slower than he could have done without such inhibitions. The door slid open and Shara entered quickly. Ryion glanced over and saw that she was obviously excited or upset about something despite her attempt to mask her emotions. “What can I do for you, Lady Shara?” he asked her lazily. “I take it you haven’t brought my lightsaber?” “No, I haven’t,” she said. “New ships have arrived in orbit and broken through the Yuuzhan Vong blockade, but did not destroy it.” “So the New Republic came through,” Ryion commented. “They are not New Republic ships. They are not Bothan ships. They are not Hapan ships. The defense officials say they do not whose ships they are or even what they are.” “How strange,” Ryion commented dryly. “Do you know something about these ships, Matrik? They seem to be like you—mysterious and yet powerful. They could easily break the blockade, but claim to have other reasons for being in this system. I heard Master Katarn saying he sensed other Force-users—and you are a Force-user. Are these your people?” “If they were, why would I tell you?” Ryion asked her. “Because I asked you an honest question, one that will do you no harm to answer,” she said. “If they are your people, we will know that soon enough by their actions. If they are not, you accomplish little by hiding that.” Ryion sighed. “Did you happen to bring me anything so I could possibly give an informed answer to that question?” he asked. “Or do you expect me to sense them from here?” “Can you?” she inquired. Ryion frowned at her, annoyed. “If I could, I certainly wouldn’t tell you that,” he answered. “In any case, I brought this,” she told him, handing him a portable holoprojector. He activated it and saw holos of Yanibar Guard Fleet ships, including a Soresu-class Fleet Defender and a Jar’Kai-class carrier displayed in front of him. It was a large force, a larger one than he had expected and possibly the largest major outsystem deployment of the Yanibar Guard Fleet ever. Ryion kept his face passive, careful not to let the faintest hint of a reaction or recognition show as he surveyed the holos while Shara waited impatiently. “Fine,” he said at last. “I’m affiliated with the same group as those ships. Happy? Can I leave now?” “If you wish to leave, by now I doubt we could stop you,” Shara replied. “You have recovered much of your strength and your fleet in orbit is clearly the strongest force in the system right now.” “I sense an unsaid ‘but’ in that sentence,” Ryion said, glowering at her. “I do not understand why you and your fleet will not help us against the Yuuzhan Vong,” Shara said. “I am normally opposed to violence, but I do not believe that calling is extended to all people until all people embrace that call.” “Now that made sense,” Ryion quipped. “If nobody stands against the Yuuzhan Vong, then the Yuuzhan Vong will conquer, enslave, and kill countless millions more,” Shara explained. “I have seen this on my planet and seen reports from other worlds. You and your people have the strength to fight them, but yet you refuse to do so.” Ryion arched his eyebrow at her. “I wouldn’t call nearly getting killed saving your life ‘refusing to do so,’” he remarked. “You do not seem particularly grateful at the moment.” Her features softened and she took on an expression that was almost mournful. “Do you regret saving me?” she asked him sincerely. “No.” The answer was quick and sincere. Given the choice to replay that particular scenario, Ryion would have done exactly the same thing. “But you cannot explain why your fleet will not help us against a force they could easily defeat by themselves.” “It’s not that simple,” Ryion returned quickly. “And strictly speaking, it’s not my fleet.” “So you will leave, along with your fleet and whatever other friends you have here, and leave us to our fate.” Ryion sighed again. The thought she was vocalizing didn’t sit well with him either, on multiple levels. It was contrary to his personal convictions as well as Depa’s admonitions. “If that Vong fleet could be easily defeated by our fleet, then likely your own defense forces can hold them off indefinitely,” Ryion commented. “Especially if we weakened them already.” Shara shook her head sadly. “It is not that simple,” she said. “I have also learned that two more fleets, one Yuuzhan Vong, and one Peace Brigade, are on their way here as well. They will be here within the week.” Now that shook Ryion. Try as he could to justify leaving this planet with the rest of the fleet and returning to the safety of Yanibar, he knew all too well the fate that awaited the inhabitants of Rishi and the Chalactan refugees they had harbored. It was not a pretty one. “Can your people and as many of the Rishians as possible be evacuated in four days?” he asked. She frowned at him, then shook her head again. “You have seen the camps, the medcenters. Even if we had enough ships, it would be impossible to save even the majority of the people.” Ryion hung his head for a moment, then steeled himself against what he was about to say. “I’m sorry, then there’s not much I can do, Shara,” he said. “It’s a damn shame, but I can’t help.” His words lit a fire in her eyes. “If I didn’t know you better, I would have thought you were the biggest coward I’d ever laid eyes on,” she said angrily. “Maybe you don’t understand this,” Ryion fired back. “But if two more enemy fleets show up and we stay, they’ll kill not only the Rishians and your people, but my people as well. We’ll kill a bunch of them, but they will win. End result, more people die. More good people as well as bad people.” “So you think it is better not to fight then?” “Not here, not in a fight we can’t possibly win,” Ryion answered. “I want nothing more than to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong, but it has to be done without foolishly wasting lives to accomplish nothing. They can’t be defeated if our lives are thrown away in a futile defense.” “I did not know our lives meant so little to you,” Shara told him. “I have misjudged you.” Ryion closed his eyes and ground his teeth as he tried to cope with the verbal daggers she was throwing at him. Taking a deep breath, he carefully formulated the words of his next answer. “Shara, I would gladly put myself at risk to protect you and your people. I’ve already done so and I would do so again. But I cannot consciously ask my brothers-in-arms to sacrifice themselves in a battle that will cost all of us our lives and where the end result is the same as if we hadn’t fought.” “Such is the high-minded idealism of the Jedi,” she said. “I’m not a Jedi,” Ryion reminded her. “And while I realize military doctrine might be unfamiliar to you, a sacrifice with no gain is not worth making, and that’s what you’re asking me for.” “I am asking you to use the power you wield to defend the helpless instead of running away.” “That’s not what you’re asking me for,” Ryion replied. “You’re asking me to get you a military to defend your people, and I can’t do that. I want to help you, Shara. I can arrange passage for you and as many of your people and the Rishians as the fleet can load in four days.” “How many is that? 1,000? 2,000? 10,000?” she asked. “Probably somewhere in the middle of that range,” he told her. “That is a fraction of the people here.” “I know.” “Then I thank you for your offer, but I must decline,” she answered resolutely. “My fate will be the same as the rest of my people. I have already left too many behind to perish.” “That’s brave but naïve,” Ryion blurted out. “You can’t accomplish anything by staying here and dying.” “I will at least die with uncompromised principles,” Shara told him coolly. “That’s not fair,” Ryion said. “My people did not ask for this war.” “Neither did mine.” He sighed. He was being forced to make arguments that were all too similar to those his father had used against him when he had advocated for more active involvement of the Yanibar Guard against the Yuuzhan Vong. Except that his suggestions hadn’t been suicide defenses. “As much as I wish it were otherwise, we do not have the power or responsibility to intervene in every galactic conflict,” he said, reciting a fundamental precept of Yanibar Guard military doctrine. “We do what good we can with what we have and where it can be effective.” “Of course,” Shara said. “I will bring your lightsaber and have you escorted from here as quickly as possible. I’m sure a transport can be arranged to take you to your fleet.” “I sense another ‘but’ going unspoken,” Ryion commented. “Before you go, I have only one small request,” she said. “Look at me. Look at me closely.” Though confused, Ryion complied, looking her over before locking his eyes with hers. “Good,” she said. “I want you to remember what I looked like before I am cast upon a Yuuzhan Vong sacrificial altar. I hear that they often kill their victims by stabbing them in the heart.” She laid her hand on her breast over her heart. “Alternately, other reports indicate people being burned alive en masse. So remember what I look like before the flesh is slowly burned from my bones.” “This won’t be necessary,” Ryion said, disturbed by the mental images her words were evoking. “That’s because you are fleeing that responsibility,” she answered curtly. “But at least you and your people will be safe. I’ll tell myself that when the flames consume me, Matrik.” “Stop it,” Ryion said, visibly distraught. Her words were having their desired effect. He would barely be able to live with himself after speaking all those words about conviction and responsibility to his father only to spit on them on Rishi and leave her and the rest of her people to suffer and die. “Given the trouble that the Yuuzhan Vong have been caused by our people’s escape, it is likely that they will torture me first. So, to get it right in your mind’s eye, remember that I will not enter the fire or reach the altar unmarred.” “Stop it!” Ryion demanded, but she continued heedless of his words. “They could implant me with creatures that burrow into my body to inflict pain. They could slice me and cut me so that my blood spills on the ground I walk along. They could pull my arms and legs out of socket, render me a helpless cripple. Perhaps they will cut out my eyes, or my nose, or my tongue. By that point, Matrik Tenzor, I will beg for the release of death.” “Chalactan Adepts are said to be masters at withstanding torture,” Ryion replied, even as he swallowed hard, trying to will away her words. “And the Yuuzhan Vong are said to be masters at inflicting it,” Shara answered evenly. “They will have plenty of time to break me.” “Stop it!” Ryion bellowed. “I will not be manipulated by you. I gave you a chance to leave here with us.” “You know, they say Peace Brigade ships are coming, too. Have you heard of what they have done on conquered worlds?” Shara asked. Ryion knew. The Peace Brigade, from all reports he had seen, had shown no restraint on worlds claimed by the Yuuzhan Vong. Widespread beatings, looting, torture, and rape were said to follow in their path. “Yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “Those children you visited in the refugee camps and medcenters? The Yuuzhan Vong do not show mercy to young ones—they will be enslaved or end up on the sacrificial pyres too.” At this, Ryion had had enough. Turning to glare at her, he clenched his fist and, for a split second, considered choking her with the Force. Some inner conviction told him that would be even more of a grievous wrong, so instead he slammed his fist down on the bedrail with a loud bang, finally silencing her. “Enough!” he roared. Ryion closed his eyes heavily, trying to blank out her arguments and returning his tone to normal. “Shara, I empathize for your people. But that same result happens no matter what I do, or even what my people do.” “I understand this,” she said. “Take your Jedi weapon. Leave this world with your people. But remember me as I was before I am slowly, brutally killed. Make my death not be in vain.” Her words shook Ryion to the core. “Damn you,” he said. “I know you’re trying to manipulate me.” “How can I manipulate you to do something you truly have no desire to do?” she asked. “You’re trying,” he responded, glaring at her. “Just go ahead and tell me what you want me to do. Get it over with.” “I want you to do what you know is the right thing,” Shara answered him evenly. “I want you to think of the defenseless people whose only protection might be you and whether or not you have a responsibility to fight for them. For me.” “No, that’s not what you really want,” Ryion said sternly. “If you want me to listen to you, stop the lying. Stop the philosophy, stop the idealism. You tell me what you want, or this conversation is over. No more games.” She sobered up from her fevered barrage of impassioned rhetoric to regard him simply. “I have seen what you and your people can do. I have seen them defeat the Yuuzhan Vong twice now, with scarcely any losses. I see the courage and the power to stand against their cruelty in your people. I would have them use that power to protect us and to show the galaxy that the defenders of good still triumph.” “Now that is an honest answer,” Ryion told her directly. “And my honest answer is that we can’t stand against a large Yuuzhan Vong force.” “Until six days ago, I did not think anyone could stand against eight Yuuzhan Vong warriors alone,” Shara said. “You will never know unless you try.” “You’re talking about risking a lot of blood for that try,” Ryion returned. “Blood that does not owe you anything.” “I am talking about a chance to show the galaxy that has known nothing but defeat since the Yuuzhan Vong invaded. I am young but I am not ignorant. I know about Dantooine, and Ithor, and now Coruscant. This could be the battle that rallies millions to stand and fight.” “Or the one that kills us all and nothing more,” Ryion shot back. “You’re awfully attached to an idea that couldn’t have formed less than a few hours ago when the fleet arrived, and is dependent on us doing all the dirty work. Evacuation is our best form of victory.” “Compared to a military defeat of the Yuuzhan Vong?” Shara said. “A decisive defeat?” “Well, no,” he admitted. “But that’s far from guaranteed.” “Will you not help us then?” she asked. “My people and I have already done much, both for you and your people,” Ryion reminded her. Shara laid her hand on his arm. “I am begging you,” she said plaintively. “Fight alongside us and show the galaxy that the Yuuzhan Vong can be defeated.” “You know, I would have thought you had more conviction than to try and beg for a fleet. What next, going to offer yourself? Don’t be so cliché,” Ryion said sardonically. Eyes ablaze, she slapped him hard across the face. He sensed it coming but allowed her the satisfaction of striking him, though he turned with the blow to lessen its impact. “Feel better?” he asked. “How dare you!” she bit out. “I am not lacking in conviction— I am desperate, because I see our only chance for a miracle slipping away in front of me. I’m begging you to help us, because I have exhausted every other approach. You and your people are our only hope.” “You have an odd way of begging,” Ryion said, rubbing at the red handprint on his face. “What do you want to do, Matrik?” she asked him finally. “What is your vision for the future?” Ryion hesitated, but he hadn’t endured all this conversation to blatantly lie to her now, especially after demanding her to answer him honestly. “I want to see both of our peoples survive and flourish,” he said. “I want to see them spared the horrors of war, and for the invasion to end and peace to return to the galaxy.” “Then we want the same things,” she told him softly, a tear trickling down her face. “Will you help make that vision a reality?” “I cannot freely answer that,” Ryion said. “My convictions tell me I should, but they also remind me of my duty and my allegiance. But I will do whatever is within my power to protect you, as long as I am here.” Shara reached up to caress his face softly, running her hand gently over the skin she had slapped less than a minute before. “I am asking too much of you,” she said huskily, “and I apologize. In my defense, to whom much is given, much is expected. I will arrange for you to contact your fleet.” With that, she stood and slipped off, leaving a bewildered Ryion behind to contemplate what had just happened. Ord Pardron, one day earlier Cassi and Milya sat quietly in the small lounge inside Mithunir’s ship as it orbited Ord Pardron. The Yanibar Guard Fleet had departed for Rishi three days ago, and Selu had already returned to Yanibar on the Hawk-bat. While they waited for Jorge and Annita to arrive, the three had waited on Mithunir’s ship. Mithunir had suggested camping on the surface to help ease the cramped quarters, but Cassi and Milya had overruled that idea. Milya had wanted to remain in orbit so they could link up with Jorge and Annita faster and escape if need be, while Cassi had no desire to return to the surface of a planet now stained with the blood of so many Open Hands workers and refugees. Visiting the mass grave prepared by the Yanibar Guard Fleet to pay her final respects a few days ago had been hard enough. Instead, they had waited patiently. All three spent considerable time in meditation, encouraged by Mithunir, who had told the two women that seeking Atlaradis would only be possible if they sought it with their hearts first. Taking his cryptic instructions in stride, they had opened themselves to the Force, sitting quietly for hours on end and seeking any sensation that might indicate the location or existence of a legendary planet that Mithunir assured them was steeped in the Force. At that moment, their meditations were interrupted by Mithunir entering the lounge. They both quickly opened their eyes and looked at him. “What is it?” Milya asked. “Your friends have arrived,” Mithunir informed her. “Good,” Milya said, rising. “Fly us over and we’ll meet up with them.” Entering the narrow cockpit of the ship, Milya found the communications console and activated it as the small skiff approached the Silent Surprise. “Jorge, Annita, good to see you two again,” Milya said. “Pleasure to be here,” the amiable Corellian replied. “We’ve got enough gear and supplies to wander across half the galaxy, and there’s still room for Cassi’s luggage to boot.” “Very funny, Jorge,” Cassi said, smiling in spite of herself. “We’ll dock your ship with yours and take it with us,” Jorge told them. “Might be useful to have a smaller craft along.” “Good idea,” Milya replied. In short order, the two ships were docked. Jorge and Annita helped transfer the cargo and supplies that the three had obtained from the Yanibar Guard to the Silent Surprise’s hold, but made the mistake of not leaving someone on the ship’s bridge to monitor the situation. For that reason, when Jorge finally made his way forward, he belatedly realized the dangers of such a move. “Kriff!” he swore. “We’ve got Vong ships inbound from multiple vectors! It’s an enclosure formation!” “What?” Milya demanded from the aft of the ship where she was sliding a pair of cargo canisters into place. Quickly, the other four raced up to the bridge as Jorge cut in the sublights. “Look at the size of that fleet,” Annita commented as she watched the red blobs on the sensor board converge on them. From what Milya could deduce, there were multiple capital ships and at least three dozen smaller warships closing on Ord Pardron. It was an impressive Yuuzhan Vong force and certainly eclipsed the Yanibar Guard Fleet squadron that had been here only a few days earlier. The aliens must have decided to send a punitive expedition to avenge the loss of their frigate. “Well, I think it’s time for us to make our escape,” Jorge remarked with a glance at the sensors, pushing the engines to full power. “It’s going to be close, but the Surprise is fast enough that we should be able to escape their interdiction fields. They might be able to get off a few fighters on us, though.” “Been there, done that,” Annita said. “Well, let’s hope that round two goes better,” Jorge answered curtly, flicking a switch to power up the shields. “Nita, take the turret for me?” “Only for you,” she replied with a flirtatious smile, sliding into the seat in front of the controls for the remotely-operated dorsal turret on the Silent Surprise. “Six coralskippers inbound,” Milya reported. “We’re not where they expected us to be, so we’re clear of most of the formation.” “Like I said, they’re not catching us this time,” Jorge said. “Navicomputer is dialing in a safe jump out of here. All we have to do is hold off those skips for a bit.” Clutching her armrest in a white-knuckled grip, Milya silently concurred as she watched the six hostile starfighters close on them, hoping that Jorge was right. Yuuzhan Vong Grand Cruiser Bloodthirster Tsaruuk watched the cluster of blaze bugs intently as his ships reverted from hyperspace in an entrapment formation. Blaze bugs were the Yuuzhan Vong’s way of tracking and monitoring tactical data. They would quickly shape themselves into shapes and positions sent to them from the fleet’s yammosk, allowing Yuuzhan Vong commanders to track the battlefield. As the fleet’s living sensors gained information, the swarm of luminescent insects soon arranged themselves in a representation of Ord Pardron, but there was no enemy fleet here. Only a single small infidel vessel remained in orbit, and it was outside of the projected orbit track, as if it was making a rendezvous with a recently-arrived ship. “Commander, only one infidel vessel spotted! It does not appear to be a warship,” reported Kroi Taak. “It is fleeing.” Tsaruuk watched as the lone blaze bug that represented the tiny ship flitted away from the prongs of his flotilla. “It is a swift vessel, possibly a scout,” he said. “Dispatch coralskippers to engage it, then send several transports down to retrieve our agents on the ground.” He watched as six coralskippers jetted towards the fleeing ship, but while they were able to close the distance quickly, the small ship seemed to be holding them off. “The pilots report that the small ship is defending itself with only one energy weapon,” Kroi Taak said. “It will be ours soon.” “Have them seek to disable it, not destroy it,” Tsaruuk ordered. “We stand to gain more by capturing them than the swift destruction they deserve.” Kroi Taak relayed the order to the villip attendants in charge of coralskipper communications while Tsaruuk kept his vigil at the blaze bug cluster, watching as the insects updated their positions based on the yammosk’s processing and collection of information from the fleet’s senses. Suddenly, three of the coralskippers vanished, their blaze bugs darkening and returning to hover alongside the other unused ones, and three others took on a peculiar whine, indicating they were damaged. Tsaruuk frowned. “Commander, the coralskippers report that the infidel ship used some kind of mine to attack them. The explosion ripped through their ships with some kind of shockwave that the dovin basals could not deflect,” Kroi Taak told him. Tsaruuk saw that his remaining coralskippers were falling behind and his fleet elements were not in position to intercept the speedy scout ship. The infidels would escape—this time at least. A few trailing projectiles struck the vessel, but no serious damage was inflicted. “Did they manage to tag it?” he asked. “Yes,” Kroi Taak said. “Order the coralskippers back then,” Tsaruuk commanded. “Have our shapers and analysts examine their ships and find out what kind of weapon the infidels used to damage them, then devise an appropriate counter-measure.” “It will be done, honored one,” Kroi Taak told him, bowing and turning to carry out his orders while Tsaruuk watched the infidel ship escape to darkspace. A few hours later, while waiting for the ships bearing Yiu Shac and the rest of her contingent aboard, Tsaruuk was suddenly approached by Kroi Taak. “Commander, our fleet over Rishi is under attack,” the subaltern reported. “What?” Tsaruuk demanded, rising from the thorn seat where he had been contemplating. The two swiftly made their way over to the villip choir, where the villip from the squadron commander dispatched to blockade Rishi was everted. “What is your report, Subcommander?” Tsaruuk asked. “Our ships were mining the darkspace approaches to Rishi when an infidel fleet reverted from darkspace at close range. They outnumber us and are breaking through our force easily! I have lost one ship already, and another is badly damaged.” “What kind of infidel fleet? Is it New Republic? Hapan?” “I . . . I am not sure, Honored One,” the younger officer admitted. “Our intendants do not recognize the ships, but they will destroy us if we stay. Ships from the surface are rising to assist them as well.” “Break off and do not pursue,” Tsaruuk ordered. “I have no desire for pointless sacrifices. If they follow you, jump to darkspace. If not, continue to mine the darkspace approaches to Rishi.” “It shall be done, Honored One,” the subcommander replied. “Send me all representations of the enemy ships and their displacements as well,” Tsaruuk added. “We shall reveal these mysterious new infidels for what they are before we grind them into dust. Do-ro’ik vong pratte!” His subordinate nodded, then the villip everted as Tsaruuk ended the conversation to let him focus on the battle. However, soon the blaze bugs began arranging themselves to represent the battle raging over Rishi. “I’ve seen those ships before, Commander,” came the furtive voice of Yiu Shac as she sidled up quietly behind him. “Where?” asked Tsaruuk, turning in surprise at her quiet approach. She looked haggard, dirty, and her leg was decidedly ruined by whatever injuries she had sustained, but Tsaruuk was still glad to see her. Her intelligence and cunning would serve him in battle and he would serve her in the quiet of their chambers to help her recover. “Here, a few days ago. That is the fleet that destroyed our warship in orbit.” “And they have gone to Rishi now. How curious,” Tsaruuk commented. “They must have knowledge of our activities there and are hitting us where we are weak.” “A coward’s move,” Yiu Shac spit in disgust. “Perhaps, but it is time we end their annoyance,” Tsaruuk told her. “That they have attacked Rishi is good for us, it pens them in nicely with the Chalactans we seek.” “If their fleet destroys the blockade over Rishi, they will hardly be trapped,” Yiu Shac observed. “The commander has orders to preserve his fleet, and their mining is almost done. Unless these infidels have new ways to destroy the dovin basal mines, they will be trapped, unable to flee to darkspace by the time we arrive,” Tsaruuk said. “Yet I feel we are missing a vital connection here.” “And what is that?” Yiu Shac inquired. “You wounded and chased a Jeedai here, and then this fleet arrived to attack. Our agents apparently engaged another Jeedai on Rishi and wounded him as well, only to have this fleet attack there next. Whoever they are, they are in league with the Jeedai.” “An interesting idea,” Yiu Shac admitted. “But our network has heard nothing of this fleet or these particular Jeedai before. If they had been around, would not they have fought when we seized their training center on Yavin’s moon or killed so many of them over Myrkr?” “Perhaps it is a new fleet,” Tsaruuk mused. “In any case, we need to discover their secrets and then kill them.” “I could be of assistance with that,” Yiu Shac offered. Tsaruuk gestured for her to continue. “Your coralskippers tagged that small ship you found here earlier. Allow me and a small contingent to pursue it—they may lead us to a new Jeedai base since their last one fell. We will be careful to observe and not engage unless we can kill or capture the Jeedai. While you destroy their fleet at Rishi, I will find out where they came from.” “A sound plan,” Tsaruuk said after weighing his options. “You have my approval. Send a small ship to pursue the Jeedai scout vessel.” Yiu Shac thought she heard a nuance in his orders that she did not appreciate. “Am I not to accompany it then?” she asked. “I have need of you here, and you are not fully ready to fight Jeedai yet,” Tsaruuk reminded her, gesturing at her still-crippled leg. “The shapers assure me that they can replace my limb today,” Yiu Shac countered. “Besides, the Jeedai I wounded is on that small ship. I saw her when it landed on the surface to visit the infidel grave. I have sworn to kill her myself, Tsaruuk. Grant me this.” “Very well,” Tsaruuk conceded. “You may go. I shall contact the warmaster and then meet you in the escalation chambers.” Yiu Shac bowed slightly and turned to hobble off. Tsaruuk watched her go, then ordered his fleet to set course for Rishi. Next, he retrieved the villip that linked him to Warmaster Tsavong Lah. Stroking it to stimulate the creature’s telepathic communication, he waited for the warmaster to reply. After about an hour’s wait, the villip finally took on the shape of Lah’s scarred head. “What news, Tsaruuk?” Lah asked. “We have found the Chalactan infidels you sought and their defenders on Rishi, Warmaster,” Tsaruuk told him, before adding, “and more.” “More?” “Our agents destroyed a refugee camp on the world of Ord Pardron, but their efforts were interrupted by a Jeedai and a new fleet allied with them. It is small, but well-equipped by infidel standards. It then attacked our blockade at Rishi, where our agents have found more Jeedai but is trapped there now by our dovin basals.” Tsavong Lah actually smiled. “Leave it to Tsaruuk with not being content to merely carry out his mission. He must find several Jeedai and their fleet to add to his conquests as well.” “I can destroy this fleet, but to be sure of their utter destruction, I request reinforcements, Warmaster.” “What makes you think you deserve them? You have not even finished the simple task I gave you in destroying a handful of refugees. Why should I give you more ships?” “Warmaster, you know best about the danger of the Jeedai and how they can rally the infidels. I have contained their fleet at Rishi and can wipe them out, make an example out of them and deliver the refugees into your hands, but I will need more ships to win convincingly.” “Were it any other commander, I would be worried about you throwing them away needlessly,” Tsavong Lah mused. “But we have suffered a setback elsewhere and our forces are spread thin.” The warmaster paused to consider. “You have done well thus far, but the demands of our campaign against the infidels require me to direct resources in other sectors.” “Warmaster, any assistance you can send will only contribute to the destruction of the Jeedai and their fleet.” “Indeed,” Tsavong Lah replied. “Your reply will not go unanswered, Tsaruuk. I will send you a small force, but with several of our Jeedai-hunting voxyn. They are rare now, so do not spend them lightly. I shall also dispatch as many of our Peace Brigade minions as can be spared to assist you with their fleet.” “They are infidels, in infidel ships,” Tsaruuk said in disgust. Lah smiled at him again. “You have never had problems using unorthodox assets before,” Lah reminded him; “furthermore, you may consider them expendable. That is what I have decided to send you, and that is what you will use.” Tsaruuk bowed his head. “I am grateful for your assistance, Warmaster,” he said with proper subservience. “I will use the resources you provide to the glory of the gods and the Yuuzhan Vong.” “See that you do,” Lah commented with a barbed threat. The villip everted, leaving Tsaruuk to stalk down to the escalation chambers where Yiu Shac was seated on a reclining chair, her mangled leg elevated and attended to by a pair of shapers. The two shapers, distinguished by their tendril-laden living headdresses and multi-fingered hand implants, were applying substances and making small cuts around her leg at mid-thigh. “What news?” she asked him as he approached. “We shall have reinforcements, though not as many as I would like,” Tsaruuk told her. “The warmaster has given me a sizable contingent of Peace Brigade.” She scowled. “An insult given the magnitude of what we stand prepared to accomplish.” “The warmaster has many battlespaces to consider,” Tsaruuk replied mildly. “We will prevail with what has been entrusted to us. But enough of that. How are you?” She smiled fiercely at him. “I am in the throes of glorious agony,” she said. “You arrived just in time. They are ready to sever the old leg and attach the new one.” “I am pleased I could make it,” Tsaruuk said, “provided these shapers do not let you bleed to death while they work.” “I’m sure they will do their job well,” Yiu Shac replied, gesturing at the shapers. “I am ready.” They nodded. One of them took a sharp coufee and applied a thick sap to its side that would serve as a temporary coagulant. Then, the shaper placed the blade on Yiu Shac’s injured leg and began cutting into the flesh at mid-thigh. Black blood spurted and trickled from the wound, but did not pour, staunched by the coagulating moss. The shaper continued his work silently, save for the sound of the snap of the bone as it was severed. Her body wracked by agony, Yiu Shac stared at the ceiling while keeping herself fully conscious and under rigid control, neither screaming nor spasming in response to the incredible pain of having her leg amputated, just a true warrior was supposed to. Tsaruuk watched in enraptured fascination as the shapers finished cutting away the old appendage and began grafting in a new living leg taken from another creature to replace the damaged limb. It was a procedure that would have seemed grotesque and unnatural to many, but to the Yuuzhan Vong, it was a natural part of life. To them, sacrificing and replacing body parts was not a mutilation, but a promotion and a sign of injury in honorable combat. With her new leg, Yiu Shac could soon return to the hunt and track down the Jeedai she had wounded, and then she would kill her.
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