Uro-ik v’alh Battleship Yammka’s Sword
In orbit of the Baanu Amnan, Tingel Arm, Wild Space
Day 203, 29 ABY

The commander who entered when the sphincter dilated looked little older than the children who now manned much of the new Warmaster’s fleet. There was scarcely a scar on the boy’s face. Is this what he was now forced to make do with?

The young subcommander whose name the Warmaster did not know prostrated himself on the floor beneath his thorn seat. Almost reading Varesh’s thoughts, the barbs dug deeper into his flesh, steadying his visible disappointment.

‘You are the warleader of this domain’s remnant?’ he asked sceptically. ‘You?’

Without raising his gaze, the subcommander nodded timidly.

Varesh shut his eyes and let out a long, audible sigh. It had been over a klekket since Yuuzhan’tar had fallen, and still he had not heard from the Supreme Overlord. The full extent of Nas Choka’s betrayal was beginning to reveal itself. Not only had they lost the Hallowed Center, but the remnants of the empire were in disarray. Many of the outlying warleaders had broken off and gone rogue, anointing themselves new Supreme Overlords in the wake of Shimrra’s supposed demise. Their greed was sickening.

But he held faithful to the True Way and the rightful God-Chosen who ruled them. If anything, this all must have been part of the Supreme One’s plans to weed out the unfaithful.

None of that helped the fact that he was forced to make do with inexperienced parasites like the one before him. Was this one, or the rest of his domain, truly faithful? Or just in need of someone who could actually lead them? Even the high priest seemed less confident about Shimrra’s survival than Varesh or Tsaak. How could one of the Most High Order of Yun-Yuuzhan even so much as contemplate the idea that the Dread Lord was gone?

No matter. His faith would be rewarded. He would yet redeem Domain Shai for the failure of Shedao Shai at Ithor. Had it not been for that, had he not been relegated to the garbage heap of Antei, perhaps he could have exposed Choka’s deception sooner. But what had passed was the will of the gods. This was all but a test on his journey to enlightenment.

‘Where is your Supreme Commander?’ Varesh asked. ‘Your worldship’s prefect? Your high priest? Your warleader? Anybody?’

The warrior dipped his head. ‘Dead, Fearsome One. Slain by Jeedai.’

‘Get up,’ Varesh said. ‘Get up!’ Ever so slowly, Tolok Amnan stood up to allow the Warmaster to study his face. Varesh shook his head. ‘And they crippled your worldship?’

Tolok nodded. ‘They slew the yammosk which served as our vessel’s rikyam.’

Varesh tightened his fists until his implanted claws drew blood. Jeedai. There were no greater heretics than Jeedai. But if they could strike back they could redeem themselves in the eyes of the Yun’o. Then, just maybe, the Supreme One would return to them.

‘Who were these Jeedai?’

The young warleader’s unblemished features contorted into a grimace. ‘I believe the priests call them Sseeth; dark Jeedai from the accursed land where my domain brothers Kol and Drathul first earned their glory.’

Varesh’s eyes flew open. The Sseeth! It was because of them he had been stationed on that lifeless rock during the fall of Yuuzhan’tar in the first place! Because of them he had not been there to oppose the heretic Warmaster! Because of them the Hallowed Center had been lost! And because of them the Supreme Overlord was now missing.

Shimrra had been correct all along: the dark ones had survived!

‘Where? Where were they from? Where?’

‘They call their system Orian. It was Drathul’s target, but they struck at us first.’

Varesh considered these Sseeth for a moment. He had heard of them; heard stories of the damage they had done to the Promised Land decades earlier under the Empire; of their prowess in battle and the legends of how they had once ruled this galaxy in millennia past; and how even the mighty Jeedai feared and had been purged from the galaxy by just two.

Sseeth. They were the answer he had been searching for. This was the test the Supreme Overlord had left for them. If they could earn victory, they could regain honour with the gods. Then at last the Supreme One could return to lead the gods’ Chosen Race to glory!

Yes. It all made sense. This was the price the Yuuzhan Vong must pay to be rewarded. And he, Varesh, would be the chosen hand of the gods through which their final deliverance would at last be forged. This was the reward for his unyielding faith.

He returned his gaze to the young warrior, who looked as if he fully expected to be returned to the gods right then. There was a sense of dread in the boy’s eyes. It sickened the Warmaster. But these were the people he would have to make do with. And even crippled, Domain Amnan’s worldship had the resources he needed to heal and regrow his fleet.

He glanced to Tsaak who stood off to the side, hidden beneath a blanket of shadows under his cloak of Nuun. Varesh nodded and the warrior-seer dissolved back into the darkness, unnoticed. This time his audience would not need end in death. Tolok Amnan could yet be of use to him.

‘Very well,’ the Warmaster said. ‘You and your domain’s survivors may join my forces. We shall use the remains of your shattered worldship as a base with which to repair our fleet and regrow our lost ships. Then, when the time comes, we shall strike at these Sseeth and redeem ourselves in the eyes of the gods.’