Star Wars - New Jedi Order - Force Heretic II - Refugee - Book 18

by Sean Williams

  "That was the world into which the Keeramak was born. It is important you understand this, because the Keeramak should not exist. One of a brood of brownscale Ssi-ruuk, the Keeramak alone possessed color. But it does not just have one color the Keeramak has all colors. That is what makes it unique among the Ssi-ruuk."

  Lwothin performed a complicated gesture involving the muscles of his tail and spine, as though shrugging his entire body. "That the Keeramak was a sport, a deviant birth, was clear. It had no clear gender, and its size was anomalous.

  But that was irrelevant. Its birth sent shock waves through the Ssi-ruuk. They place a great value on spiritual matters, as you know, and such a birth had been prophesied for millennia. The Keeramak, the birth of many colors, would be the one to take the oppressed and make them lords; the Keeramak would make the weak strong."

  "What you're saying," Han said, "is that the Ssi-ruuk embraced the Keeramak because they thought it would lead them to victory over us, right?"

  "That is correct," Lwothin said. "They raised it like a king, with every privilege and opportunity to learn and grow. The Keeramak soon proved to be exceptional in all respects strong, intelligent, wise. It argued with the Shreef-tut over the limitations of power, it challenged the Conclave on matters of theology, and it rivaled the Elders' Council when it came to minor points of

  law. But ultimately it was the Keeramak's compassion that was its greatest point-as well as the Ssi-ruuk's undoing."

  "It chose you over them?" Leia asked.

  "The Keeramak was the one who led us to victory over our former masters. It conceived our revolt and consolidated the aftermath. Within a year, Lwhekk was ours and the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium a thing of the past. And now, five years on, the Keeramak still guides our destiny."

  "Impressive," Leia said. "Throwing off an oppressor is only the beginning of a long and difficult journey."

  Jaina nodded, knowing that her mother spoke from experience.

  "In the wake of our liberation, we have continued research into entechment,"

  Lwothin said, through C-3PO. "We have found ways to nourish the stored minds reclaimed during our revolution. The life energy distilled from concentrated banks of algae and other primitive life-forms can prevent the decay common to previous soul-captures. It also goes a long way toward staving off the discomfort many feel when enteched. Now that we have diverted much of the life-draining work to your forms of technology and reduced the strain on the enteched

  soul, we have reversed many of the wrongs forced upon captives and slaves in the past.

  "The droid fighters you saw today are piloted by those enteched in the last days of the Imperium." Lwothin's triple eyelids blinked in a complicated manner.

  "Although we do continue to offer entechment as a form of military service, there are few who willingly sacrifice their physical lives. There's no way back, of course. Such a decision is not lightly made."

  "I'm sure it wouldn't be," Leia said as she faced General Panib.

  From the tone of her mother's voice, coupled with the set of her shoulders and the way she sat in the chair before her, Jaina could tell she wasn't entirely convinced by Lwothin's lengthy explanation-even though it did concur with the odd Force readings they'd had from the droid fighters.

  "General Panib, have you seen anything to contradict Lwothin's statement that no one has been enteched against his or her will?"

  "None of us have been enteched, if that's what you're getting at," the general said. "In fact, there have been no aggressive moves made against us whatsoever.

  Although..."

  "What?" Han prompted, leaning forward slightly in his chair.

  "Well, that's something else we will need to talk about why you've come at such a bad time. The P'w'eck arrived here two weeks ago, offering a treaty. Prime Minister Cundertol and the Senate deliberated for days before arriving at the decision to accept the offer. The Prime Minister's announcement caused a few riots. It's hard to explain to the general population that we haven't sold them out."

  "I can understand that," Han muttered.

  "We thought the people were coming around," Panib went on. "The defense advantages of joining with the P'w'eck are obvious, given the Yuuzhan Vong's gradual drift this way. And we had a lot be grateful to them for, since they did get rid of the Ssi-ruuvi threat." Panib fidgeted uneasily. "But there are complications-and conditions."

  "Such as?" Leia asked.

  "Lwothin has mentioned religion; the P'w'eck are like the Ssi-ruuk in that they share some of the same traditions. In order to make them comfortable, there are details we have to attend to. Cundertol wanted this Keeramak of theirs to come to Bakura to sign the treaty in person, but he-it-wouldn't come unless Bakura was consecrated. You see, it believes like the rest of the Ssi-ruuk that if it dies away from one of the sacred worlds, then its soul will be lost forever. And the fact is, assassination isn't out of the question-especially given the volatile temperament of some of the public right now." His glance to Lw othin was filled with apology. "We are neighbors; we must learn to trade and fight side by side. If Bakura and the P'w'eck are to work together, then we have to consider all our religious beliefs. We'd like them to feel safe enough to visit here. Toward this end, Cundertol managed to find a compromise the Keeramak would come to Bakura to perform the consecration in person. The ceremony was planned for two days from now. That's where things stood when-" "When Prime Minister Cundertol disappeared," interrupted a voice from the

  entrance to the chamber.

  Jaina's grip on her lightsaber tightened instinctively as she turned to see a tall, aging man in a scarlet robe approach the table. His face was long and angular, the bones beneath clearly showing. Two Bakuran guards closely shadowed him, rifles held firmly across their chests.

  "Deputy Prime Minister Harris," Panib said, standing. He sounded relieved. "Thank you for joining us."

  Harris indicated for Panib to return to his seat, then nodded to everyone else around the table by way of greeting. "Princess Leia, Captain Solo it's a pleasure to meet you again. And of course you, Lwothin."

  An attendant brought up a chair, and he sat between the P'w'eck and Leia."I apologize for the delay," he said to Panib, "but there was a bomb threat at the main spaceport and I had to take a shuttle from Lesser Grace. As you can see," he explained to the rest of the table, "we are suffering from a pronounced civil unrest. Not on behalf of the majority, I imagine, but rather a violent and unprincipled minority who think they know what's best for Bakura. This minority has decided that the P'w'eck are no different from the Ssi-ruuk, and the Keeramak's visit here is nothing more than an elaborate ruse that will result in the entech-ment of everyone. 'Once an enemy, always an enemy' is their maxim.

  There is simply no room for negotiation." He clenched his fists helplessly on the table. His gaze fell upon Leia and Han. "I understand you have experienced interference from them already."

  "A secure transmission was interrupted by someone warning us away," Leia said. "Whoever it was had access to comm channels that should have been restricted."

  "They are everywhere," Harris said sourly. "As the consecration looms, their desperation increases. They have been behind at least five disruptions to subspace communications in the last fortnight. Kidnapping Mo-lierre Cundertol was an act of suicidal bravado. It is strange but, while I have to condemn their methods, I can't help admire their spirit." He shook his head sadly.

  "Nevertheless, we will never negotiate with terrorists."

  "What about Cundertol?" Han asked. "Any idea where he's being kept?"

  "We'll find out soon enough. Especially now that we have the terrorist leader in our hands."

  General Panib was clearly taken aback by this news. "Since when?"

  "She was taken into custody shortly before I left to come here. We have her in a security holding cell, awaiting interrogation."

  "Is she-" Panib hesitated. "-who we suspected she was?"

  "Malinza Thanas," Harris answered with a sm
ug smile. "Yes."

  The surprise in the room was palpable. Jaina knew the name. Malinza Thanas was the daughter of people her parents and Uncle Luke had met on Bakura the first

  time they'd visited. When Malinza's parents had died, Luke and Mara had taken her on as a sponsor child, visiting her a couple of times. She'd heard nothing about the girl being a terrorist leader, however.

  "Malinza?" Leia asked. "Are you certain of this?"

  "There's no doubt," Harris stated. "She admits it herself."

  "She admits she kidnapped the Prime Minister?" Panib asked.

  "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time."

  "When you say 'interrogation'-"

  "I don't mean to imply torture, Princess," Harris said. "We are a civilized

  people, and it would take more than a little civil unrest to reduce us to savages."

  "This doesn't add up." Han was shaking his head. "Whoever we spoke to when we arrived warned us away because they thought we were after your ships. They implied that the P'w'eck were your allies. But that contradicts what you've just told us about the terrorists. If they're anti-P'w'eck they wouldn't want any association with them at all."

  "What can I say? They are confused and directionless, their aims unclear even to themselves." Harris shrugged dismissively. "We have suffered at the hands of such isolationist groups ever since the overthrow of the Empire. There are indeed those who resent the intrusion of the New Republic into our affairs. Some of these may have allied themselves with the anti-P'w'eck movement to gain the illusion of numbers. Such people won't be happy until Bakura stands alone

  against the rest of the galaxy- and inevitably falls alone, too."

  "So what now?" Panib asked.

  "The first thing, General, is to put our house in order. While we look for the Prime Minister, I suggest we end martial law and begin preparations for the consecration. The treaty depends on it; the Prime Minister would not want it delayed for anything. With your permission, I shall convene the Senate and get things moving."

  "Of course." The general's relief was obvious. "There's not much time, and a lot to be done."

  Lwothin spoke up. " 'We understand that this is a difficult time for you,' " C-3PO translated, " 'and we are grateful for your continued efforts to bring our governments together.' " The P'w'eck's beak snapped emphatically. " I will convey my assurances to the Keeramak that all is in order and the ceremony will go ahead as planned.' '

  "Thank you, my friend." Blaine Harris inclined his head in the direction of the P'w'eck ambassador. "And you, of course," he added to Han and Leia, "are very welcome to attend also. I'm sure it will be a fascinating glimpse into a culture we've theorized about for many years, but never had the opportunity to see with our own eyes."

  "We'd be honored," Leia said. "The Galactic Federation of Free Alliances will be very interested to observe the ceremony."

  General Panib stood, and the others around the table followed suit. "I hope you won't be offended if I call this meeting to an end, but I have urgent matters to discuss with the Deputy Prime Minister."

  "Of course." Leia accepted the explanation with her usual diplomatic aplomb. "And thank you for taking the time to explain the situation here. There are still some aspects I'd like to discuss in more detail at a later date, if possible."

  "It would be my pleasure to accommodate you," the general said. He spoke and moved with a confidence that had been lacking before the Deputy Prime Minister's news. "And I shall ensure that Salis D'aar spaceport is secured for your arrival. Hopefully with Thanas in custody, the situation will cool down a little now."

  Leia bowed in acknowledgment.

  The Deputy Prime Minister bowed also as Leia and Han's party filed toward the exit. Lwothin and his two bodyguards followed close behind, and although he made no effort to come too close, Jaina still made sure to position herself carefully between her parents and the powerful saurian.

  Once outside, the P'w'eck fluted in his loud, melodic way.

  "Lwothin says that this is a pivotal time for all our species," C-3PO interpreted. More fluting and gesturing followed. "He also says that he is glad that you will be attending the ceremony. The Keeramak will be pleased when it hears the news."

  Without waiting for a response, the P'w'eck headed off down the corridor, bodyguards in tow.

  "Chirpy fellow, ain't he?" Han said.

  "Something's not adding up here," Jaina said. She was glad the meeting was over and she was once again able to be involved in discussions. "How can the Bakuran resistance be everywhere and yet still be a minority?"

  "Maximum disruption," Leia said, "for minimum effort. We could be seeing the Peace Brigade at work here."

  "What's left of them," Han muttered. "It's like getting a dent out of a deflector grille, even after Ylesia."

  "At least we're not too late this time," Jaina said, the destruction of N'zoth still fresh in her mind.

  "That's assuming, of course," Leia said, "that we have the full story."

  "The story, Yu'shaa. Tell us the story," whispered the acolytes crowding the darkened audience hall. "Tell us about the Jeedai."

  The Prophet gazed down at them from his throne, his expression hidden behind a mask of truly horrific proportions. A maze of scars and tattoos, it was barely recognizable as a face.

  "Who asks?" he demanded in accordance with the service.

  "We do, Yu'shaa," the pilgrims responded with a unified bowing of their heads.

  "We are the Shamed Ones, and we come to you for wisdom."

  The Prophet nodded, satisfied by the formal response. Warders outside the hall had carefully instructed the audience on how and when to speak. The being on the inside of the mask smiled to himself, knowing that these conventions were nothing more than a sham to encourage obedience to him and, ultimately, rebellion against his enemies.

  Nom Anor rose from his seat on the throne and removed the mask. The hideous creation was meant to represent Shimrra and the gods, while its removal symbolized the casting off of the old ways. He had devised every detail of the ceremony with the help of Shoon-mi and Kunra, his chief acolytes, but no matter how many times he did it, it still felt clumsy. Only the reactions of the

  converts convinced him that it was working.

  The acolytes looked wonderingly up at Nom Anor's "real" face-not aware that this was just another mask, an ooglith masquer designed to make him look like a member of the Shamed caste. "The gods have granted me a vision," he announced. "It is a vision of a galaxy of beautiful worlds-worl ds in which all Yuuzhan Vong can live in peace as well as in glory, free of shame, and with everything their hearts and souls desire."

  In recent weeks, Nom Anor had learned to become more animated and expressive when addressing the groups that came to hear him speak. At first he had just sat there and spoken, but he soon found the attention of the Shamed Ones would drift beneath his dull monotones. So he'd adopted some of the techniques he had observed in Vuu-rok I'pan-a storyteller from the group of Shamed Ones that had first taken him in during his initial exile to Yuu-zhan'tar's underworld. Nom

  Anor clearly recalled how I'pan had told the story of Vua Rapuung, and how those gathered had listened intently, hanging from his every word-even though they had heard the tale so many times before.

  "But as I gazed upon this vision," Nom Anor went on with dramatic flair, "a dark shadow came between my hungry eyes and the sight of the worlds that should be ours. The huge, black shadow had rainbows that shined from its eyes; its mighty hands were darkened from bloodstains."

  The congregation listened spellbound, just as I'pan's audience had once listened to him. Nom Anor raised a hand to demand silence-an unnecessary gesture since the silence was already profound, but one that served to reinforce his command over the gathering.

  "The gods opposed the great shadow, the Rainbow-Eyed Ore, and they brought forth their holy warriors to strike it down!"

  He stared down at the crowd. "You know the name of these warriors."
<
br />   The whisper surrounded him. "Jeedai!"

  He nodded his approval, and leaned forward as though to impart a great secret. And it was a great secret, for uttering it could easily mean the death of everyone in the room.

  "Yes, the gods sent the Jeedai to drive away the Rainbow-Eyed Enemy. For weeks and months they fought. The Shadow killed many of the holy warriors, and kept the rest at bay. Night fell across the galaxy, and it seemed as though the war was hopelessly lost. Our home had been taken from us! The Yuuzhan Vong were no longer favored by the gods, for we had debased ourselves on the altar of the Shadow!"

  "No," moaned one in the congregation, shaking his head. Even from his place at the front of the congregation, Nom Anor could smell the rank odor of the Shamed One's decaying arm.

  He smiled inwardly. It was all too easy to work his will over the loose-knit congregations of heretics that infested the capital. Their members were weak and desperate, while he was strong and resourceful.

  "No indeed," he said. "Even as despair overcame me at the defeat of the Jeedai, even as it seemed as though the Rainbow-Eyed One would never be stopped, the gods gave me hope. For just when all was dark, I saw the grasses of the field turn against the Shadow. I saw them rise and wrap around the feet of the Rainbow-Eyed One. The Enemy stumbled and fell-and then the grasses rose to bind the Shadow's mighty limbs! The grasses held this Foe of the gods to the ground, wrapping themselves around his throat and squeezing the very life from him, removing the influence of his black heart from the land!

  "By themselves, each blade of grass was weak; but together they were mighty!"

  The congregation sighed with relief and joy at the exclamation.

  "Let us be as the grass and twine about the feet of our adversary to bring him crashing down. For individually we may be weak, but like the grass, together we can be strong."

  The congregation hissed its appreciation, and Nom Anor basked in their approval. In all the years he'd served as an executor, he had never had such an audience. It had been impossible to speak honestly or openly for fear of offending the warmaster or the priests-or, through them, the gods. Now he had the attention of hundreds, and they would listen to anything he said. He was wise enough to realize, though, that such attention would last only as long as they approved of his message. They devoured the nonsense about the Jedi along with his message of self-empowerment-and while he had no great belief in the former, he was very much in favor of the latter. The Shamed Ones were his ride back to the surface. He was happy to give them the means so he could achieve the end.