[Han Solo] - 03(112)

Durga, curse him, had called his bluff. Teroenza opened his eyes and took in the depressing sight: beyond Veratil and Tilenna and the other t’landa Til soaking in the mud, sleek Nova Force ships littered the landing field, and small teams of heavily armed sentients wearing the uniform of the mercenary unit were everywhere.

How could Durga have known what he planned? Maybe the young Hutt was smarter than he’d thought. Now that he reflected on it, Teroenza decided that it had probably been a bad idea to kill Kibbick so brazenly.

But the worst of it was that Teroenza still couldn’t know for sure how much Durga knew. Perhaps the Nova Force troops were Durga’s response to the High Priest’s disingenuous requests to beef up the Ylesian defenses.

Maybe he didn’t suspect foul play in Kibbick’s death.

Teroenza liked that idea. If true, the t’landa Til would just have to wait, and hope that this situation was temporary, and that, after a while, Besadii would grow weary of paying Nova Force to stay here.

Wait. I can wait a little longer. In any event, that’s all I can do ….

The Nova Force commandant, a squat, heavy-gravity world human named Willum Kamaran, was approaching the edge of the flat, treading gingerly, not wanting to soil his shining black boots. Finally, he gave Teroenza a disgusted look and motioned for the t’landa Til to come to meet him. The High Priest decided that he’d at least pretend to cooperate until he found out more. Hoisting himself to his feet, Teroenza started in the man’s direction.

Without warning a lash of energy sizzled into the mud in front of him, spattering him with ejecta. The High Priest halted in confusion.

What?

Teroenza turned to see three beings in camo uniforms come racing out of the jungle, blaster rifles blazing. The Gamorreans who had been guarding them were already dead.

Ptchoo. Ptchoo. Ptchoo.

The sound of blaster fire was all around him. Teroenza tried to run, tried to change direction, but slipped in the mud, falling to his knees.

Is this Nova Force? Has Durga ordered them to execute us now?

Teroenza thought, hysteria nearly getting the better of him. At the edge of his vision, he saw that Kamaran was also shooting now. But not at him. At the intruders. Other Nova Force soldiers were coming up behind him, blasting away. By Varl, they’re trying to protect us!

There was no place to run. Teroenza froze in panic. Veratil, he could see, lay motionless, a smoking hole where an eye used to be. Tilenna had run deeper into the mud, but was unable to submerge herself, and was flailing back and forth in complete terror. Teroenza realized suddenly that it was only a matter of time. Taking a deep breath to still the fear erupting in his heart, he let himself fall, then lay still, playing dead.

The blaster fire abruptly stopped, and Teroenza opened his eyes. It worked! The intruders lay dead. The High Priest dared to raise himself and survey the scene.

Tilenna!

She was half covered by mud and water, and her head was under. She can’t breathe …. Before he had reached the body, Teroenza knew the truth. He cradled the massive head as best he could in his weak arms, trying to find a spark of life in his mate, but she was gone.

Kamaran had taken a hit in the arm, and his tan uniform was covered with dark brown smears. And there was Ganar Tos, Teroenza’s majordomo, making his way through the milling soldiers, pausing for a moment at the mud’s fringe, then plunging right in.

“My Lord Teroenza,” he cried, his weak old human’s voice barely more than a croak. “It’s terrible. All over the planet, assassins are killing our Priests! We’ve had reports from Colonies Two, Three, Five, and Nine.

Offworld communication has been cut. Oh, sir! Lord Veratil … and Tilenna! Sir, what can we do?” He wrung his hands distractedly.

“Sir, this is the end. There can be no more Exultations. What shall we do?”

Teroenza snorted heavily, trying to think. Was this Durga’s work? No, it couldn’t be; the Besadii enterprise depended on the t’landa Til.

Who was responsible for this? And what should he do now?





14


The Battle for Ylesia


Jalus Nebl entered the Ylesian atmosphere with great care, watching for storm cells, and staying in constant touch with the Rebel assault shuttles that were following him. He was a lead ship, and well aware of his responsibility. “Shuttle Three,” he said into his comm unit, in his squeaky Basic, “watch yourself. You’re drifting too far to port.

Storm cell 311 is headed in your direction. The ionization from those lightning storms will mess up your instrumentation. Increase speed and close up.”

“This is Shuttle Three, we copy, Dream of Freedom.”

They were flying through thick clouds now, and the Dream was buffeted by high winds. Darkness surrounded them. They were flying toward the sun, but they would not reach daylight before they landed.