Kor Chokk Grand Cruiser Yammka’s Sword
In orbit of the Baanu Amnan, Tingel Arm, Wild Space

Throughout the armada warriors celebrated their victory over the Sseeth as the fleet arrived back at what still remained of the Baanu Amnan. The calls for the coronation of Varesh were too loud to suppress, and the bravest now even dared to call for the Warmaster’s anointment as the new Supreme Overlord.

Where was Shimrra? they asked. Now the Sseeth were beaten, why had he not returned?

Varesh was pacing back and forth before his throne.

‘The Dread Lord will yet return,’ Tsaak purred. ‘Do not trouble yourself, Fearsome One.’

The Warmaster spun round to the seer. ‘But what have I done wrong? You hear them. You hear the cries throughout the Yammka’s halls. They want me. Is this my heresy? Have I affronted the God-Chosen by acting in his stead?’

Tsaak grabbed Varesh by the shoulders; had it been any other, the Warmaster would have slain the seer right then. ‘You have done nothing wrong,’ Tsaak said. ‘Your faith has been rewarded. It is not your actions that have brought shame.’

‘For once I must agree with your seer,’ said Seef as she approached. ‘Warmaster, you have proven the trust placed in you by the Gods as their avatar. Through you the Light of Truth shines on us all. However, while this heresy is not yours, it falls on you to end it.’

Varesh studied Seef but did not say anything.

The High Priestess continued, ‘You both know of what I speak. The seeds of this heresy have cultivated these past two years. Your judgement has been vindicated, your victory over the Sseeth fulfilled, your choices absolved.’

She paused a second, then added, ‘But now you must bring it to an end.’

Varesh turned back to Tsaak. The seer did not dispute the priestess’s words.

Finally, the Warmaster nodded.

‘Yun-Yammka has so far overlooked Tolok Amnan’s indiscretions to bring us this victory,’ Varesh conceded. He paused a few seconds. ‘But, High Priestess, if what you say is true, the heresies of Domain Amnan are why the God-Chosen has yet to return.’

Seef bowed her head agreeing, ‘That is what I divine, yes.’

The Warmaster’s face fell dark. ‘Then so be it,’ he muttered in little more than a whisper. ‘The Slayer has excused Amnan’s Jeedai slaves and intercaste affairs, however he shall do so no longer. As I will it, this affront to Yun-Yammka and his caste is over.’

Varesh turned to the villip choir imbedded in his throne and gestured for it to open a transmission to the command room. A second later, the villips morphed into the life size image of Romm Shai.

‘What is your command, Fearsome One?’ the Supreme Commander said.

The Warmaster stared blankly for a moment, and then turned to the false likeness.

‘Our alliance with Domain Amnan is at an end. Tolok Amnan has shamed the True Gods; he is to be relieved of command and brought before me to pass judgement. All ship commanders will swear complete loyalty to me. Those who do not will be destroyed. It is time people were reminded no warrior may lie with another caste.’

And, then, perhaps, the God-Chosen will return.

Matalok Cruiser Voice of Agony
In orbit of the Baanu Amnan, Tingel Arm, Wild Space

Eshin’s eyes were fixed on the captive Yuuzhan Vong.

Vasi Khess. The former shaper was strung up by the vines of the Embrace of Pain. The Shamed One was virtually unrecognisable. His body soaked in blood. Cuts and blisters on what little remained of his skin. For the most part, he was raw, as if his flesh had dissolved, leaving behind only muscle. Dangerously thin, skeletal.

The Shamed One did not move as Niiriit sank the pulsating amphistaff into his wrist.

Eshin looked on in anticipation, her eyes glued to Vasi’s arms as his veins throbbed, as the fresh sample pumped into his system, as—hopefully—at last her vengeance would be fulfilled. A few seconds later Vasi’s eyes flew open and he shot forward in the restraints. The sound was terrible. His body screamed as he gasped for air and convulsed, going into shock.

‘What’s happening?’ Eshin demanded.

Niiriit yanked out the amphistaff’s fangs, but Vasi’s body continued to reel. The shaper plugged her hand into his chest. Eshin could only surmise as the implants imbedded in Niiriit’s own hand burrowed their way inside Vasi’s chest. A moment later, an electrical pulse rippled out from where her hand was.

‘What’s happening?!’

The shaper continued to ignore the other female as she fought to resuscitate him.

Eshin could only watch.

A few minutes later, it was all over.

Vasi fell forward in his restraints and was silent.

‘NO!’ The outburst was mutual.

Behind the two heretics, Krag Muyel looked on with his domain brother Shok. The readout on the villip attached to the tracer spineray implanted in Vasi’s back confirmed it: the Shamed One was dead. Krag knew enough from his own alchemical background to hazard a guess that Vasi had reacted violently to Remulus’s blood—too potent a strain, perhaps?

The Vong were just not built for midichlorians it seemed.

The two females were silent for several minutes before Eshin stood up and left.

Krag and Shok followed after her, listening to the string of expletives the intendant unleashed as she stormed down the corridor towards the cells where Remulus was being kept.

Niiriit just stayed there on the floor, mumbling to herself.

‘I don’t understand . . . the blood of an Ancient . . . it should have . . . urk—’

She gasped as suddenly something tightened around her throat and cut her airways off.

Niiriit clutched at her throat and tried to pull the phantom hand away.

‘Jeedai…’

Above her, someone laughed.

Spluttering for air, she looked up.

Vasi was staring back at her, fire burning in his eyes.

The Shamed One stretched out and tore through the arms and claws of the Embrace, the ropes and vines pinging off as he pulled his body free seemingly without any difficulty. He dropped to the floor, and stretched, embracing his freedom for the first time in more than two years.

His laugh ran through Niiriit’s entire frame, as if the horror itself was made manifest.

When Vasi spoke, his voice seemed to come from nowhere, and everywhere, all at once.

‘I can see.’

Niiriit tried to speak, but Vasi’s hand still grasped her throat.

‘The past . . . the future,’ he continued. ‘The Truth.’

Vasi knelt down so that their faces nearly touched.

‘And I know the Truth is false,’ he snarled.

‘You have succeeded, Niiriit. I am what we always wanted to create. I am the Light.’

He watched as her face started to turn white, the colour draining from it.

‘You have won your prize, master,’ he said and stood up again.

‘Allow me to offer you Their Third Gift and grant you Blessed Release.’

He smirked. Lightning-blue bolts crackled around his fingertips.

‘It is time the Shamed claimed their rightful place as Gods.’

Niiriit’s world exploded in white.