Even before his uncle nodded to him, a warmth had begun to spread from his heart throughout his body. He’d not abandoned his search for his place as a Jedi, just drained the urgency from it. That energy he redirected into his efforts to defend Ithor. The sense of well-being he had as a result left him no question that he’d made the right choice. I just have to hope I live long enough to continue on my path, be it a circle, or toward a goal.
The Jedi all went through their declarations. Wurth renounced weakness with a vehemence meant to hide his insecurities. Kyp rejected pride, using words meant to suggest that the glory of one was the glory of all. He clearly was trying to bring all the Jedi together, as Luke had done, but from Jacen’s new perspective the effort just seemed transparent.
Somehow Jacen knew that the high priest must have seen past the blinds Wurth, Kyp, and a few others raised, but the Ithorian gave no sign of it. “You Jedi, through your link with the Force, understand how life is woven together with life. You know how one thing touches another. Here, today, you are woven together with the Mother Jungle and the Ithorian people. Our fates are ever intertwined. We welcome your strength and sincerity. We offer you our support and love. As fibers woven are stronger than those alone, so shall we all be strong together, facing this threat.”
The Ithorian lowered his hands, then shook hands with the Jedi Master. Luke remained at the front of the room as Relal Tawron made for the egress hatchway. The Ithorian paused only once, to rest his hands on Daeshara’cor’s shoulders and whisper in her ear, then he exited the room.
Luke waited for the hatch to close behind the high priest, then stood there, shrouded in his cloak. “So you all know, our exact role in the fight has not been decided. From the computer system here you can pull an abstract of the various plans that have been floated for us. You can pretty much ignore any that were not initiated by Admirals Pellaeon or Kre’fey or by me. I will have assignments for us all.”
Kyp frowned. “You cede us responsibility, but we have no part in deciding how we will be used?”
The Jedi Master smiled easily. “To you, I ceded responsibility for your own actions. To the military, I have ceded responsibility for what we will do. How we accomplish their goals, this we will all have input on. They will decide what must be done, and we will decide how Jedi can best accomplish those tasks.”
He looked around the room. “That’s all for now. May the Force be with you.”
The Jedi broke down into little groups and slowly started to filter from the enclosed grove. Luke walked directly over toward Jacen and Anakin and opened his arms. He rested a hand on each of his nephews’ shoulders. “I’m very proud of the two of you. The things you said, well, as the high priest has said, the jungle is no place for children. What you said shows you’re not children.”
Jacen rested his right hand on his uncle’s mechanical one. “Thank you, Master.”
“Me, too, Uncle Luke, thanks.” Anakin smiled broadly at first, then composed his face much more solemnly. “I’m ready to do whatever you need me to do, no matter what.”
Ganner chuckled quietly. “Given your experience fighting the Yuuzhan Vong, perhaps you should be given command of our contingent.”
Luke arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure that much responsibility should be placed on his shoulders just yet, but someday.”
Daeshara’cor cut through the crowd of other Jedi and paused a couple of meters shy of the group. “Master, if I could have a moment.”
Luke turned toward her. “Please, join us.”
“Yes, Master.” The woman approached, then looked down at her hands. Her lekku twitched ever so slightly, betraying her nervousness. “I just wanted to thank you for trusting me, inviting me here, allowing me to participate in this ceremony. I have been doing a lot of thinking—self-examination. Until asked to articulate things here, I had not understood exactly why I had done what I did, or what that was doing to me. I had allowed my hatred to make as much of a slave of me as my mother had been. I don’t regret opposing slavery, or opposing the Yuuzhan Vong, but I can’t do it for the wrong reasons. Winning or preserving freedom is good; seeking retribution is not.”
The Jedi Master nodded. “That’s a lesson we all need to keep in mind. I’m glad to have you back with us, Daeshara’cor. The struggle we’ll face will demand the best, and here, I think, we have the best.”
Corran, who had joined the group, sighed heavily. “We’ll just have to hope that our best is enough. I can’t shake the feeling the battle for Ithor will be the last for some of us. If we can’t stop them here, well, perhaps becoming one with the Mother Jungle won’t be the worst thing that could happen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Freed from the Embrace of Pain, Shedao Shai reached out and grasped one of the device’s slender limbs in his left hand. He hung on as tightly as he was able, then lunged his body quickly to the right. His left shoulder popped loudly, the sound echoing within his cabin aboard the Legacy of Torment. The arm slipping back into the socket sparked an argent explosion of pain and sent it rippling through him, weakening his knees. He might have dropped to the floor save that surrendering to the pain would have tarnished it.
And it would not do to let my subordinate see any weakness. He turned his head slowly to where Deign Lian stood, eyes averted to decking. “You have a reason to disturb me?”
“Commander, yes, many reasons.”
“Then give me the best one.”
The implied threat in his command shook Lian, and Shedao Shai took secret pleasure in that. His subordinate did not look up and could not quite rid his voice of a minor tremor. “My leader, we believe we have determined what it was that the jeedai sought to hide on Garqi.”
“Really?” The Yuuzhan Vong leader kept his voice light, his tone questioning. “After so long? Why is it you think you have succeeded now?”
“As you will recall, Commander, we had great difficulty with the probes we were using in that area. We had a high failure rate on them. It was assumed that one generation of them had an undetected defect in the breeding. We employed another, and had similar results.”
Shedao Shai nodded. “You have bored me with these excuses before.”
Lian’s shoulders shifted slightly. “The creatures we were using are a strain related to vonduun crabs. We employed another device while doing forensic examinations of the searchers that had failed. The searchers had inflammations of their respiratory systems, and with the new scanning creatures, we discovered pollen grains. The searchers died of an allergic reaction to the pollen. Vonduun crab armor had a more immediate and violent reaction to the pollen.”
The Yuuzhan Vong leader held up his left hand, ignoring the grinding in his shoulder. The idea that their armor fell prey to a naturally occurring element in the environment stunned him. That revelation had serious implications. The first, on a purely military level, was that now the enemy had a weapon they could employ that would seriously handicap the Yuuzhan Vong warriors. He had no doubt the enemy would use it—he would not have hesitated were he as beset as they were. Suddenly every combat situation was a potential disaster.
The second and more fundamental issue was that of biological and botanical opposition to their invasion. Ever since the invasion had been ordered, one of the motivating forces had been that the enemy were machinists. They created machines that mocked the living with their pseudolife. Their reliance on machines marked them as defective, as weak, as contemptible, and certainly as deserving of death. They were infidels, blasphemers, and heretics with no help of justification of their lives.
But now, a living thing opposes us. He shook his head ever so slightly, realizing how dangerous was the battlefield that this development could lead him to. Just as a political faction had struck prematurely to gain control of the invasion, now the priesthood could use this new opposition to strengthen their influence. While Shedao Shai had every faith in the validity of the crusade in spite of this discovery, war was a task best left to those tra
ined to it.
His eyes narrowed. “Who knows the information you have revealed to me?”
“Just myself and those who investigated it.” The hint of a smile snaked its way across Lian’s lips. “They have been isolated. No word of this will escape.”
“Very good.” He gave his subordinate a sincere nod. “You have isolated the plant that produced this pollen?”
“The bafforr trees, which are native to the planet they call Ithor. The world is within our current invasion corridor, accessible from Garqi.” Lian lifted his chin. “I have taken the liberty of preparing a plan for the planet’s annihilation.”
“A repeat of Sernpidal’s destruction?”
Lian shook his head. “No, Commander. My researchers have assured me that they can prepare an assault weapon with which we can seed the planet. Ithor is rich in organic matter. Destroying it will be simple.”
Shedao Shai raked a talon over his own chin and down his throat, feeling it click along the folds in his leathery flesh. “Stand off the world, deliver the agent?”
“Most efficient, my leader.”
“Indeed, but wasteful.” Shedao Shai shook his head. “That is not how we will do it.”
“Why not?” Impatience flashed over Lian’s face. He flicked a hand toward the planet below. “Even the conquest of a planet like Garqi was not without casualties—and that is excepting the deaths in the garden. The infidels must be fortifying Ithor. They cannot allow us to take it from them. Fighting there will be fierce.”
The Yuuzhan Vong commander lunged at his aide and flicked a backhanded slap at the younger warrior’s throat. Lian’s hands came up, but not fast enough. The blow landed, not hard, but hard enough to drive him back a step and wring a choked gasp from him.
Lian immediately dropped to his knees and touched his forehead to the deck. “Forgive this one, leader, for angering you.” His harsh croak carried little contrition to Shedao Shai’s ears, but the fear shooting through it brought him satisfaction.
“Do you think we will be defeated in taking Ithor?”
“No, Master.”
“Do you think our warriors will shrink from the possibility of dying there?”
“No, Master.”
“Good.” Shedao Shai spun away from Lian and let his heel spurs click on the decking as he began to pace. “What you suggest would be most efficient, but would hurt us more than help. We need to show them that we will crush them no matter their preparations. So far we have not launched a solid military operation against any of their worlds. Yes, we took Garqi, but the opposition was minimal. The subsequent infiltration and exfiltration of agents taints that victory. As you point out, they must fortify Ithor. When we take it we will send a message out to the rest of the New Republic with the survivors. That message is that we are implacable and invincible. That is the message our enemies need to hear.”
“With all due respect, Commander, this one thinks you have spent too much time with Elegos.”
“Do you?” Shedao Shai turned slowly, allowing a heel spur to tease a squeal from the decking as he did so. “From him I learned much about our enemies. Now he will bear to them a message from me. His preparation for this role is complete, and now we know where we may deliver the message: Ithor. He will return to his people there and will not fail me.”
“That is all well and good, Commander, but your concern with how they think—it . . .”
“It what?” Shedao Shai walked over to Lian and pressed his right foot down on his subordinate’s head. “It has me flirting with heresy? Have I done anything that indicates I have abandoned our ways? Have I used a machine? Have I said I doubt what we are doing? Have I questioned the dictates of the gods or priests?”
“No, my leader, but—”
“But nothing, Lian. There is much Elegos could teach you, Lian, even in the few days he will remain with us.” The Yuuzhan Vong commander increased the pressure, mashing Lian’s forehead against the deck. “You offer me a plan that will be effective from a tactical standpoint, but ineffective on a strategic level. Moreover, your plan could be considered blasphemy, since it would destroy a storehouse of life. Ithor could be a gift to us from the gods, requiring us to wrest it from the enemy, and you would destroy it rather than do what the gods wish and liberate it.”
Shedao Shai pulled his toes back, cocking his ankle, allowing his heel spur to dig into Lian’s scalp. Flexing his knee and lifting his thigh, he brought his subordinate’s head up. Once he could see Lian’s eyes, he pulled the spur free and stood there. He watched in silence until a thin ribbon of blood started dripping slowly on the deck.
“You are fortunate, Lian, for I will not let you disgrace yourself. You shall accomplish that which is the will of the gods.” Shedao Shai folded his arms across his chest. “You will plan for me an assault on Ithor to commence a month from now. You will likewise plan a feint in force at the world Agamar. It will fall, or we will take it after we take Ithor. You will plan these assaults, using all the assets assigned to me.”
“Commander, this is an honor, but should you not plan these assaults?”
“I will review and modify your plans. You are competent enough to lay the basic groundwork. While you do that, I will continue a job that only I can do.” He nodded slowly. “Elegos will provide our first avenue of attack on the New Republic. Within a week he will be doing our work for us. Then I will have time to oversee what you have drawn up, correct it, and make it work.”
“Yes, my leader.” Lian nodded slowly. “It shall be done as you order it.”
“One last thing.”
“Commander?”
“No word of this pollen goes out to anyone. If your people can find a way to modify armor to be immune, good. If not, we will fight without living armor.” Shedao Shai smiled. “We are the Yuuzhan Vong. Our cause is right and just. The gods armor us when we go into combat, and entering it in a dead shell is just a sign of our faith in them.”
Deign Lian retreated to his cabin aboard the Legacy of Torment and closed and sealed the hatch behind him. The small, ovoid enclosure had almost enough room for him to walk through it without scraping his head against the ceiling. He kept his head ducked, not wanting to smear blood on the ceiling, then dropped to his knees at the small storage space beneath his bed and pulled forth a sclipune.
He gently set the creature on top of the bed so the line where the two halves of its shell met faced him. Reaching around to the sensory tissue at the hinge, Lian ran his fingers over it in the combination of movements to which the creature had been trained to respond. The upper half of the domed shell rose, revealing a villip nestled there like a pearl. The Yuuzhan Vong stroked the villip once to waken it, and felt his pulmonary arch quicken its pumping as the communications creature morphed with the features of his true master.
Lian ducked his head immediately. “Master, forgive this intrusion, but this one must report.”
“Proceed.” The villip voiced the command flatly, but it still contained a hint of his master’s tone.
“It was as you suggested it would be. I offered Shedao Shai the plan to destroy Ithor, but he rejected it. Instead he would have us assault it in a most conventional manner. And, perhaps, in not so conventional a manner.”
The brows on the face assumed by the villip arrowed downward. “Explain.”
Lian kept his face expressionless and flattened his voice. He knew that in crafting his answer he was playing a dangerous game, but Shedao Shai demanded he play it. He was likewise certain that his master knew he was playing, but might not know the depths of his skill at political manipulation.
“He remains obsessed with the infidel. He has not enough time to spend on planning the Ithorian assault, he is so preoccupied. He is convinced eliminating the threat that is Ithor would be detrimental to the future of our assault because of how it would make the enemy feel about us.”
“What matters how the infidels feel?” The villip did manage to communicate his master’s scorn. “You wil
l plan this assault for him, and plan it well. You will calculate the appropriate amount of force you will need to take the world, then advocate bringing a handful more ships. Shedao Shai will slash your estimates. He will be made to look a fool.”
“As you will it, Master, it shall be done.” Deign Lian nodded enthusiastically, then made a quick play. “Before long all praise shall gather to your name, Master. Soon, on the lips of many will be—”
“Quiet, fool!”
Lian dipped his head sharply. “Beg pardon, Master.”
“Do not make me wonder about you. You are in position to see that the right things happen. I would hate to have to find another asset to replace you, but it is not impossible.”
“Yes, Master.” Lian let a dollop of fear swirl through his words. As long as the Warmaster thought as little of him as Shedao Shai did, Deign Lian could successfully play both of them against each other. Shedao Shai would have to lose this round so Lian could be appointed as his replacement, but then his political patron would have to fall. Only then can I reach the ascendancy for which I was bred.
“Continue your work. Report as needed and keep me apprised as the battle for Ithor unfolds. You are doing good work, the gods’ work.” The face on the villip assumed a serene expression. “When our conquest is complete, then you shall be rewarded greatly.”
“Thank you, Master. This one is ever your loyal and obedient servant.”
Lian reached up and closed the sclipune. He would have laughed, but a droplet of blood splashed on the creature’s shell. Lian reached up and found his hair wet with blood, with the circular wound puckered and swollen. He probed it with his fingers for a second, then shrugged, pleased that it would result in yet one more scar.
He hid the sclipune away, then licked at the blood on his fingers. All the indignities he suffered from Shedao Shai would be repaid in one grand surprise for his superior. The only pity is, he will not see my hand in his downfall. For an instant he regretted that, then shunted aside his regret.