The Hive, Central Intelligence Centre
Sadow Palace, Sepros Jungle, Orian System
Day 176, 31 ABY

The attack by the Yuuzhan Vong had come in the middle of night and taken Colonel Kal Septka and the Palace Guard totally by surprise. There had been no alarms. No surface-to-air missiles. Nothing. Everything had been turned off right before the gargantuan organic dreadnaught appeared in the sky. Were it not for reclaiming Marakith over on Aeotheran, and getting a message out to recall the rest of DSOG, they may not have survived the attack.

Fortunately, the Vong themselves had withdraw not long after appearing. That did not mean the damage was minor. As he surveyed the wreckage, Septka still did not understand it. This was the seat of power of the disciples of the Lord Sadow of the true bloodline. Pockets covered the floor where swarms of flying asteroids had laid waste to the defenders. Hundreds of Special Operations men lay dead or dying. Wreckage of crashed HLAF interceptors that had tried in vain to take off littered the area. Smoke poured from the palace’s roof where the first wave of asteroid-based drop pods had fallen out of the sky like giant hail stones.

Even now, with the planetary grids still offline, the Peace Brigade battlegroup remained in orbit of Aeotheran, Amphor and Tarthos, even though the Vong had already withdrawn. Did they expect the Dlarit Corporation just to roll over and surrender? Kal knew enough to know a diversion when he saw one, and that was what the attacks on the colonies had been.

Sadow Palace had been the Vong’s true target.

And aside from the Overlord not being there, they had got what they came for.

The Simus Institute had all but been slaughtered. It was like a scene out of the end of the Clone Wars. No, it was worse. The Empire had only shot them in the back. This was more like a horror scene in a holothriller. The Vong did not kill their victims cleanly. The blood was still splattered across the floor and walls. Many of the cleanup crew were unable to hold their stomachs at the sight before them. Adults and children butchered without remorse.

But he had not discovered the worst until the attacker’s had already fallen back.

Both the Governor-General and his deputy had been captured.

And the Viceroy’s son was missing.

Few even knew about Remy Dlarit’s existence. That meant there was only one answer.

It had been an inside job.

It must have been someone high up. There was no other explanation for how they could have disabled the defence systems and cut off the outside communications network to stop the distress call being put out earlier. They had infiltrated every level of the Dlarit Defence Force. It must have taken months to prepare and coordinate such an attack.

However they had made one key error.

Even as Kal looked at the virtual fingerprints left behind on the Hive’s data systems, he still could not believe it. He recognised the faces. They were people he had worked with.

Colonel Sarn. Commander Arnet.

Kal slammed his fist into one of the monitors. It was not as if another one broken would make any difference. Most of the Hive was already ruined beyond repair. It would take months to put the palace back together.

That was time they did not have. They needed the defence grid to get rid of the ships presently holding the Corporation to ransom. Admiral Yashais dei Izvoshra had made his demands clear: if DSOG attacked the Peace Brigade would raze the colonies to the ground.

That would not have mattered, except most of the Dark Jedi were still at ground zero.

They needed to get the defence systems back online. Kal turned back to the faces of the two turncoats, and keyed open a joint channel to Tarthos and Aeotheran. He had a good idea where to start. It was time to give these sycophantic backstabbers what they deserved.

Police Headquarters
Government District, Seng Karash, Aeotheran, Orian System

The police headquarters was still being used as an impromptu triage unit. Marakith may have been recaptured from the rogue DAC trooper, Orenth, but the main weapons systems were still offline, and the city’s shield generator still inoperable. With an old Confederacy frigate still in orbit, the DSOG fleet had no option but hold back, so the new Intel from Colonel Septka had been just what Nix and the others had been waiting for.

The rest of the battle team marched single file behind the Shistavanen as they made their way towards Wyla Sarn’s office. Dyrra and the Serpents had already taken up station at the other end in case the colonel tried to make a run for it.

‘I can’t help thinking: how many others?’ Jinius said behind.

Nix glanced around at the crowds of medics, doctors and injured service personnel. Most of the civilian casualties had been moved to City Hall. In the background, he could still hear calls down below in the lower levels as new cases got wheeled in. Special Ops had cleared most of the streets, but there were still stragglers out there.

None of that mattered right then. They could worry about the civilians later.

The woman beyond the door just up ahead was his target.

They reached the doorway, only it felt strange.

‘I don’t sense anyone inside—’ Nix said. ‘Set your blasters to stun. Remember, Governor Tsainetomo wants her alive.’

Nix didn’t bother to unholster his own blasters. He wanted the Chiss spy to see his eyes when he knocked her unconscious. This was personal.

Reaching the door, he leant up and pressed his ear against it to listen. Footsteps. There was certainly movement. ‘Maybe a droid?’ he muttered, more to himself than his team.

He stepped back then kicked the door open.

Colonel Sarn was sitting at her desk.

He still couldn’t sense her.

The colonel looked up, her face seeming surprised. ‘Can I help you, commander?’

‘Why can’t I feel her?’ Mei whispered.

Nix’s hand fell to one of his blasters. ‘Colonel . . . I’m afraid you’ll have to follow me.’

Sarn stood up and grinned. ‘No. No, I don’t think I will,’ she said as the surface of her face started to ripple and her grin withered into a scowl.

Nix drew his blaster. ‘Hands up. No sudden moves.’

Slowly, Sarn raised her hands . . . then, as the skin on her face started to peel away, dripping into a puddle at her feet, her cold grey features became plain to Nix and the rest of the squad. Behind the pool of blue gel emerged the face of a Yuuzhan Vong, her lipless mouth laughing.

‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

Sarn laughed. ‘I wouldn’t think of it.’

All of a sudden a black mass dropped from the ceiling, ropes falling atop Nix and the rest of the battleteam.

The team’s blasters flashed.

The writhing mass of amphistaffs wrapped around the Shistavanen’s arms as he pulled them off. Across the office, a door slid closed behind the colonel’s desk.

Wyla Sarn was gone.

‘Kark it!’

Nix yanked the last snake off his shoulders and crushed its head beneath his foot. He opened a channel to Dyrra and raised his wrist to his mouth. ‘Serpent, this is Sapphire. Target is on the move. Be advised, she’s a Vong in disguise. Repeat, Vong in disguise! Can’t feel where she’s gone, but definitely headed your direction.’

‘Copy that,’ Dyrra replied. ‘Serpents in position. Will rendezvous with you outside.’

Dlarit Navy Headquarters
The Hub, Kar Alabrek, Tarthos, Orian System

Like a storm cloud, the dark blue glow of Fremoc’s lightsaber swam across the spotless walls as he thundered down the corridor, the rest of the Raptors and his Special Operations squad following close behind. The fire still burned in his chest, the rage at the loss of his son. It was only a matter of time. He would get Thomas back.

But first he would have Ran Arnet’s head on a plate.

His grip on his lightsaber hardened so tight he heard the metal stress.

‘We’ll get him back,’ Ryuk said.

Fremoc did not answer. He could not answer. He could only see the fire.

They reached the office; the words COMMANDER ARNET printed on the door.

Over the years, Kar Alabrek had been targeted too many times, the Cathedral hit from orbit too many times, the hands of Marka Ragnos cut off one by one by one too many times. He had not been here for the Battle of Inos two years earlier, but this had been worse than before. That time the threat had come from outside. This was an inside job. A betrayal.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ muttered Horus.

Fremoc nodded and keyed the door. It slid aside to reveal the pristine white office of Ran Arnet, commander in the Dlarit Navy, and one-time candidate for the Special Operations Group—though he had been deselected for signs of his lack of commitment. They should have seen it then. But then, Fremoc thought, the Vong would just have found another.

Traitors were always there if you looked hard enough.

The commander was already on his feet, looking at the flames outside the window.

‘Ah, I take it you’ve found out about my little . . . deal with the Vong.’

Arnet did not turn around.

The Raptors circled the commander as the rest of the Special Ops troops arrayed behind them, blasted centred on the traitor. Too many had turned out to be Vong in disguise; though Fremoc could sense that was not the case with this one. Arnet’s greed stank in the Force. Not that Fremoc needed to feel it with all the priceless works of art amassed around the office.

‘I’m placing you under arrest,’ Fremoc said, barely holding back his urge to spear the commander right there. But that would be too kind. He would make Ran feel what his son had been put through. He would keep the commander alive long enough that he understood the extent of his rage. Arnet would learn what it meant to fear.

‘Raven,’ Fremoc whispered into his comlink, ‘I’ve got Arnet. But keep the Hawks on station in case of complications.’

‘Roger that,’ Raven replied. ‘Kalei and Ekeia are waiting at the extraction vehicle.’

Arnet finally turned around. He was smiling and looked around the office at the blood diamonds and artworks he had paid for with families’ lives. Fremoc’s family’s lives. ‘It will be a shame,’ Ran muttered, ‘to not see these again.’

The commander took a step forward.

‘That’s far enough,’ William said as his lightsaber snap-hissed to life.

Ran grinned, his eyes glancing at each of the troopers in turn, seeming to size up the weapons levelled on him. He stepped back to the window. ‘Yes, yes I think it is,’ he said. His grin widened. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got places to be.’

Fremoc felt a sudden ripple of danger up his spine right before the commander nodded at one of the trooper’s behind the Obelisk. ‘Cover!’ Fremoc shouted as he dived behind the nearest statuette. Red and green flooded his vision as the troopers fired all at once. Not at Ran: at him.

Traitors everywhere. Just like he thought.

It took less than two seconds for the Raptors to switch their attention to the men who were supposed to be there to help them, and less than another second for them to turn back to Arnet . . .

Gone.

Outside, the airspeeder was already vanishing into the plumes of smoke.

‘Kark it!’ Fremoc yelled. ‘Raven, you’ve got incoming. Target jumped out the window. Be advised: our troopers are compromised. Will rendezvous with you at the designated extraction point. Make sure the shuttle’s prepped.’