Monday, October 23, 2006

A Life Not His Own: Chapter 9

Jaina Solo, Gavin Darklighter and Kyp Durron stand underneath a pavilion. Jaina looks around, seeing merely a grassy field as far as the eye can see, interrupted only by the grey speeder belonging to Gavin, and the two smaller brown speeder bikes which were piloted by Jaina and Kyp.

A few minutes later, another speeder pulls up, and General Wedge Antilles gets out. He nods his head, and returns Jaina’s and Gavin’s salutes. Then he turns towards Kyp and his hand drops to his blaster.

“There better be a very good excuse for him to be here.”

Jaina speaks up. “Sorry sir, but it’s his intelligence we’re bringing to you.”

Wedge frowns at her. “Are you sure it’s worth anything? And why wasn’t I told he would be here.”

Gavin takes a step forward. “I thought it worthwhile, and it was my idea not to tell you he would be here.”

Wedge looks between the two of them, and then turns on Kyp. “I don’t like you Durron, just sit over there, and don’t talk to me.”

Kyp opens his mouth to reply, but a quick kick from Jaina shuts him up. He looks down at her, and sees her staring up at him, a scowl clearly covering her face, telling him in no uncertain terms he should do this. He retreats to the corner indicated by Wedge and leans against a post, his arms crossed over his chest, as he continues to stare at Jaina.

Wedge glares at him for a moment more, and then turns to Gavin. “What’s so important that I had to come all the way out here?”

Gavin silently hands him a datapad. Wedge frowns, and plays the video, his face slowly losing color.

He looks between the two of them. “Is this real?”

Gavin nods his head. “As near as we can tell. You may recall that Rogue Squadron went through the system months ago, and we saw something strange then; I have to assume it was that thing in an early stage. We told them we needed to go in again, and either figure out what it was or destroy it. But the Senate refused.”

Wedge nods his head. “I remember that report.” He rubs at his chin, a thoughtful look on his face. “We’ll need more firepower than I can provide as a retired fleet officer. Let’s take this to Admiral Kre’fey.”

Wedge sighs, as he considers the various implications involved. Then he glances between Jaina and Gavin. “You two, stay here on planet and keep Durron here with you, or better yet, send him back to whatever rock he was hiding on. I’ll contact Kre’fey and have him come here to us.”

Wedge and Jaina salute, as Wedge turns around and gets back into his speeder. After a moment, Gavin turns towards Jaina. “I’ll heading back into town now, I have a few more things I will need to do before the Admiral arrives. I’ll contact you when Wedge gets in touch with me.”

Jaina salutes once more. Then she watches as both speeders disappear into the distance, and slowly turns towards Kyp. She fights back the urge to smack the smirk from his face.

As if reading her thoughts, his smirk grows slightly larger.

“So, while we’re waiting, shall we spar?”

Her eyebrow quirks and a grin threaten the corners of her mouth. “A reason to beat on you? I’d love to.”

Kyp laughs and slips out of his cloak as he walks down the steps of the pagoda, followed closely by Jaina.

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Yal Paath genuflects to the villip as it assumes the shape of the Warmaster Tsavong Lah. He straightens.

“Warmaster, to what do I have this honor?”

“I enquire after your project. I grow tired of these Jeedai running around. A lone one destroyed our garrison on Lorrd, and then showed up a third of a klekket later and defiled the coral skipper nurseries on Belkadan.”

“I understand Warmaster, and we are nearing completion of a prototype, yet we have not produced within it reproductive capabilities.”

Tsavong snarls. “Then clone it. I want the Jeedai taken care of.”

Yal Paath genuflects once more. “I obey Warmaster. If it may be possible to transport some Jeedai here for live trials against the creature, it would be most helpful.”

The warmaster nods his head. “I will see to it that we bring you some Jeedai for your trials.”

Yal bows his head once again. “Thank you Warmaster.”

As he straightens once more, he watches as the villip folds in on itself, hiding the visage of the Warmaster. Yal sighs, and then returns to his work, he opens his personal qahsa, and continues taking notes on which changes he believes are necessary to create the next generation of voxyn as an even deadlier animal.

As he works, he sneers in disgust at himself, at the taint of heresy which his machinations of the shaper protocols reek of. Yet he knows that without those minute changes, without those minor modifications to the protocols, his project would have failed.

And he would have been executed for his failure, his entire domain shamed.

He is no better than Mezhan Kwaad, is the thought that has ran through his mind for the past klekket.

He nods his head, knowing that once he has the voxyn perfected he will destroy this qahsa, destroy the proof of his heresy, even if it means that the queen will never be able to be recreated. He smiles as he makes the final genetic modification, and then plugs his qahsa into the vir’atok, the creature which reads a genetic blueprint from a qahsa and produces a live organism.

He sets that to perform its task, and goes to find Ch’roka Toh, the prefect in charge of Baanu Raas.

Yal finds the prefect in the control center. “Ch’roka.”

The prefect turns as Yal calls his name, and upon seeing the Master Shaper walks to him. “What can I do for you, Master Shaper?”

“Are the training grounds prepared?”

“Yes. But I must again reiterate that I do not like having that infidel trash and heresies on my worldship.”

“Good, we should have the first of our voxyn ready to run the grounds within two days. Also, the Warmaster will be sending us Jeedai slaves to test the voxyn against. As for the heresies, they are a necessary evil if we are to train the voxyn to hunt Jeedai.”

The prefect bows. “Very well Master Shaper. Thank you for keeping me informed, most especially when I will be able to remove those mechanical abominations from the Baanu Raas.”

The shaper turns and leaves, going once more to his work and his hidden heresy.

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The Warmaster and Vergere sit around the dejarik table. Unlike most dejarik tables, this one is a living creature. The other difference between other dejarik tables and this one is the fact that the creatures standing upon it are not holograms, but rather small live animals, custom designed for the Warmaster to play this game with his new familiar.

Tsavong Lah looks up from the remaining creatures as they face off against each other on the board. “This is a Jeedai game?”

Vergere bobs her head in affirmation. “Yes Warmaster. It originated within the Jeedai, but that was many centuries ago. Today it is treated as a great strategy game.”

As she is talking she moves her Ng’ok and has it kill Tsavong’s K’lor’slug, placing her in a position to win the round.

Tsavong sends his Grimtaash after her Ghhhk. “So tell me what you believe the Infidel’s next move shall be?”

Verger directs her Monnok into the center of the board, winning the round. She looks up at the warmaster from the table. “They will continue to collapse back towards the core, and once you have taken Coruscant they will scatter to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, performing rearguard and pirate actions until the Elite have shown them the True Way.”

“I have told you of the Baanu Raas Shaper project, and their request for Jeedai. What is your thoughts on this.”

Vergere bobs her head for a moment. “I would suggest capturing and sending this Jeedai in dark armor which terrifies intendents so. He has been a thorn in the Twv’ke’s paw since he appeared on Lorrd.”

The warmaster’s smile is dark and feral. “I like that idea little familiar.”

Tsavong Lah stands up and walks away, leaving Vergere sitting on her Vurruk covered mat, her dark, avian eyes staring after him.

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Jakan sits in meditative repose, his coufee in one hand idly slicing circles upon his chest, as he ponders the great mysteries of Yun Yuuzhan.

He is the High Priest of the Yuuzhan Vong. Outside of the Supreme Overlord he is the being closest to the gods. It is his responsibility to ensure that the populace is keeping the faith, and staying far away from heresy.

It is literally his life on the line on that fact.

Of course, Jakan is a true believer. He is zealous in his protection of the faith, sincere in his belief that the True Way is the only way, and that followers of any other path must be sacrificed to the gods.

He lifts the coufee and places the point beneath his eye, slowly drawing it down.

There is a sickness among the Yuuzhan Vong. He knows this. He can feel this.

He hears the tinkle of kolot beetles, and opens his eyes to see the priest in charge of the Deception Sect, the highest follower of Yun Txun. He is dressed in his robes of office, a floor-length skinrobe, with purple vessels adorning it. The kolot beetles are attached along the bottom, making their noises with every step of the priest.

Jakan smiles up at him. “I hope you bring me good news Harrar.”

Harrar keeps his face impassive. “I bring news. We had a Yoric-Vec searching for clues as to what that black-clad Jeedai was doing, the one who destroyed the garrison on Lorrd.”

Jakan nods his head. “I understand.”

“We lost contact with them. Our last reports were they had went to Garqi. We sent more warriors, and this is what was found.”

He holds out a qahsa, which Jakan takes. He presses the activator nerve, and a Yuuzhan Vong script appears. Without realizing, Jakan reads it aloud.

“There is no shame in the lack of implants. There is no shame in hiding from pain. The shame is from the Elite who use us to do what they will not. The shame is upon the Elite for glorying while they force us to suffer. The Jeedai has shown us the way. For honor, we shall overcome. For honor, we shall rebel. For redemption. For the Jeedai.”

Horror flashes in his eyes as he looks up at Harrar. “Who else knows of this heresy?”

“None as of yet. The warriors who found and saw this have been silenced.”

“See to it, that it remains that way.” He sighs wearily and uses his hand to smear the blood from the cut on his cheek. “I must take this to Lord Shimmra.”

Harrar bows, and turns away. He leaves to the tinkle of the kolot beetles.

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The Ilk’atko flies through the space between Nen Yim’s face and her qahsa. It slams against a nearby wall and splatters, showering Nen with sticky, warm goo. She lifts her attention from the qahsa in front of her towards the being who threw it at her. She suppresses a sigh.

“May I assist you Master Shaper?”

The old shaper hobbles towards her, holding the Qang Qahsa. He throws it to her, and she deftly catches it, looking from the sum of shaping knowledge towards her insane master.

He steps closer, and pokes her with one of his dead hands. “You will create me a new pair of Master’s hands.”

Nen Yim suppresses a smile. “I obey Master.”

Then Kae Kwaad spins and leaves the room. He leaves Nen Yim with a fully accessible Qang Qahsa.

She allows a smile to come to her face. Sitting the Qang Qahsa on the work surface before her, she accesses its data, plunging into the neural interface.

There is the Sixth Cortex, and the Master’s Hands and the dovin basils. She bypasses both, having no intention of creating hands for the insane shaper. With a flick of a mental switch, the Sixth Cortex fades away, to be replaced by the Seventh.

She smiles at the mind awing design of the worldships, and their brains. As she touches that knowledge, it rolls itself out for her, showing her holistically how the brain and worldship work together, how they’re assembled, and the potential for repair and regeneration. A lot of this knowledge she has gleaned for herself, but having it displayed this way, in its entireity, is instructive, as it shows her where her assumptions failed, and to her surprise, where her thoughts were better suited for the purpose. She frowns at that, pondering the meanings of it. Shaking away her musings she turns once more to the knowledge before her, seeking a way of regeneration for the brain.

A deep sense of failure settles over her as she realizes that there is no way to save the Baanu Miir.

She despairs.

Could this be all the knowledge of the Yuuzhan Vong? Could this be all that is available to the shapers? The dead and useless knowledge of millennia ago. Has nothing new been added to the Qang Qahsa since they have left their home galaxy?

These thoughts and more rush through Nen Yim’s mind as she considers the end of Yuuzhan Vong knowledge.

Then she realizes that there has to be more. There have been new weapons and new protocols handed down from the Supreme Overlord throughout the invasion. There must be additional information, other protocols within the Qang Qahsa.

She presses the Qang Qahsa, and it flickers, the Seventh Cortex falling away.

A deep, masculine voice booms through her consciousness, the Qang Qahsa has noticed her, its ancient intelligence awakened, by her probes.

“Go back.”

Hope flairs within her again. There should be nothing beyond the Seventh Cortex, yet the Qang Qahsa protects something.

She presses again, and pain shoots through her, a fire ripping through her mind, as the Qang Qahsa’s voice booms yet again. “Go back. There is nothing for you here. You are not allowed.”

The fire in her mind redoubles, and she screams out. “I am Nen Yim of the Yuuzhan Vong! Grant me access!”

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