Shili's Open Orbit

Swirling blue gave way to the black star speckled tapestry of real space as a Matalok cruiser exited a hyper lane and entered the system, drifting at sublight speed towards the planet. Banks of dovin basals quite literally manipulated the forces of gravity to pull the organic vessel at Shili, where it began to take up an orbit encircling the planet. Eventually its travels around the globe brought it alongside the ro'ik chuun m'arh Price of Pain, whose tactical villip registered the coral crusted cruiser as the Legacy of Anguish, whom they had been waiting on. There was a small exchange of communications between the two vessels, as well as an exchange of supplies as oqa membranes from either ship extended and joined to form an atmospherically sealed bridge between them. Teams of worker caste transferred food stores, biots, and fresh personnel from Zonama Sekot to the smaller frigate. It was while these two were joined that Cyrion Yin, the current commander of the ro'ik chuun m'arh, boarded the matalok and met with Alaitoc Yin.

Both were intendants born in to the caste, due in part by the fact that Domain Yin was so intertwined with that particular group. However, both Yuuzhan Vong were widely different from one another.

Alaitoc had clearly been influenced heavily by the warrior caste, for he was garbed in a complete set of vonduun skerr kyrric that adhered itself to his otherwise naked body underneath. A long flowing command cape had its claws sunk into his shoulders deep enough that black ichor oozed from the wounds and dripped down his chest plate. He was surrounded by a number of warrior caste, the only exception being a priest of Yun-Yammka, who whispered advice and manipulations into his pointed ear. A baton of rank was held loosely in the intendant's grip, currently in its straightened rigid state. The commander of the Legacy turned his luminous mqaaq'it, glowing faintly over darkened purple eye sacs, and fixed them on Cyrion as he entered the ready room.

Cyrion, though he too held the rank of commander, was garbed in a more traditional manner for an intendant. From the soles of his feet up to his neck, a jet black cloaker hugged his lean muscular frame. Microscopic cilia bound the suit of living tissue to his skin, symbiotically joining them. The hood of the cloaker was pulled up over his shorn scalp, enshrouding his scarred visage in shadow. His only armament was a coufee blade sheathed on his right hip, though truthfully he was probably more adept with the curved bone dagger than most warrior caste were with an amphistaff. The commander of Price of Pain flashed his crooked teeth as he entered the room and extended his right hand, gripping Alaitoc's arm at the elbow in the familiar greeting of warriors.

"Nice ship." Remarked Cyrion, releasing his domain mate's hand as he allowed his ocular implants to glance around the room briefly before settling back on the other intendant. "Though I should wonder if you will be satisfied with your current orders. Standing sentinel can be dull. I speak from experience."

The priest standing next to Alaitoc looked as though he was about to object, but before he could do so he found himself silenced by a single look from his commander. The intendant then shrugged his armoured shoulders, causing the segmented joints of the crabs legs to flex slightly.

"This ship was a gift from the Executor, well deserved I might add, for slaying a mighty creature the equal of one of our tank beast." He paused, then added. "I suspect it was given to soften the blow of my current duty, though I remain honoured nonetheless. What is your mind on the duty bestowed upon you, Cyrion? From my understanding..." Or from what his spies told him. "...it is an ambitious undertaking."

Incredibly risky, he meant, but there wasn't a Yuuzhan Vong worth his caste that would have turned down such a chance for glory and excitement.

"It is necessary. There are too many unknowns at the moment. We need to know who is operating in the region before we start advancing the Praetorite's interests. If the First Order had more of a presence here then there wouldn't be a need for concern, but we are alone in this region, even if help is only a few darkspace jumps away."

Alaitoc nodded, resting both his hands on the serpent head of his baton. "Then I wish you good hunting."

They clasped hands one last time, then parted ways. When Cyrion was back aboard the ro'ik chuun m'arh, he waited for the last of the preparations to be completed, then gave the order to break orbit. Likewise, after all the supplies had been transferred, Alaitoc ordered the bridge crew of the matalok to take the ship into the planet's atmosphere, heading on a course towards the southern continent where the Praetorite outpost was located. Once clear of the planet's naturally formed gravity well, the Price of Pain entered darkspace and headed across the region of space.

It's destination...the Vandelhelm Cloud.

Location: Shili (Shili System) : Shili-Secondus (Shil's 2nd Moon): Lunar Surface

Six moons orbited the planet Shili, each with varying topography and unique traits, similar in some ways but different in others. Shili-Secondus, named accordingly for occupying the second closest orbital position to the world it circled, was as barren as a moon could be. It had no atmosphere and very little in the way of gravity. An empty grey rock floating through the void, absent a living presence of any sort. Perfectly suited for the Praetorite's needs.

One after the other the fleet had arrived from all corners of the galaxy. Both the Praetorite Command and Legacy of Anguish had survived their Deep Core engagements, appearing first in the unobscured orbit over the moon. Next came the Flayed Mans Cry, which up until recently had been providing security for the Chazrach colony on nearby Anobis. Finally the last arrived in the form of the ro'ik chuun m'arh Price of Pain, the personal flagship of the Executor, Nem of Domain Yin. Tendrils of light peeled off the yorik-coral hull of the organic frigate as it breached the dimensional barrier of darkspace and entered the system. Outside of long range scans it was practically invisible, as its outer surface was comprised of a combination of glossy black excretion armour and a specialized dyed version of coral that matched the voids perticular shade of utter darkness. Coral-skippers could be seen flying escort while yorik-trema traveled between the capital vessels, exchanging supplies and personnel as needed.


The modified yorik-vec of the Executor, which based on appearances had more in common with a Mon Calamari lobster than a gunship, descended towards the meeting site. Its dovin basal array manipulated the forces of gravity, soundlessly pulling the coral ship towards the surface as spindly segmented legs that served as organic landing gear emerged from its underside, scattering dust as they punctured the ground and accepted the weight of the transport. As the dovin basals were calmed, a seam split in the craggy hull to reveal a dilating hatch-sphincter, opening to expose the interior of the ship to the airless void. A molleung worm unraveled from the bottom of the sphincter down to the ground, forming a retractable ramp the ship's occupant could use to disembark.

Black as the starry sky overhead, Nem appeared at the threshold of the door, garbed in his signature skin-tight vacuum cloaker, a living body glove that was symbiotically connected to the Executor through the pores of his skin. The lower half of his face was hidden behind a star-fish shaped gnullith connected to a lung-worm on his back, providing the Yuuzhan Vong with breathable air. With his hood pulled up over his head, the emerald green glowing mqaaq'it ocular implants he had in place of eyes were the only visible feature of his face, appearing like motes of witch-fire through the air-tight translucent membrane that extended from his hood over his face. He was unarmed save for a serrated coufee blade sheathed on his left hip, a weapon that was as synonymous with his domain as it was with the lower castes. Every member of Domain Yin was an expert with the bone-blades, preferring ithem over the longer and more versatile amphistaff. As perfect and deadly as a bissop on the hunt, the Executor didn't even leave footprints as he walked across the cold lunar surface towards a gathering of the Praetorite's elite.

They were the commanders of the Praetorite's ships and mobile infantry divisions, the leaders of its domains and castes, Yuuzhan Vong dedicated to the same cause as he. Loyal, all of them, and he doesn't trust a single one. It wasn't really their fault. Nem had been subject to so many betrayals and tragedies that his mood had been painted the same shade as his attire. The thought of everything slipping away from his carefully laid plans would not cease plaguing his mind. Stubborn though he was, forever refusing to give in to the ennui, he was weary. Oh so very weary. As he cast his mqaaq'it around the gathering, the only Yuuzhan Vong he truly wished to see was absent.

Mira Yim, the greatest scientific mind his people had ever produced and the only one who always knew the right words to console his wounded spirit, was currently on Ossus assisting with the planet's recovery. Though the world was deeply scarred from events that had occurred millennia earlier, there was a sense of serenity he had found there that reminded him of Zonama Sekot. The Jedi Lords were wise to choose it as the home of their noble Order. Nem had felt a strange pang of loss as he left the planet, which made him worry for the Master Shaper's safety all the more, though he could hardly have left her in better hands. The only place she would have perhaps been better protected was Coruscant, where she would have been much more likely to get herself into trouble. No, Ossus was the best place for her at the moment. He just missed her, that was all.

They were almost all there: Alaitoc, Alith, Cyrion, Kar, Shareed, and Shendor of Domain Yin. Kronn was absent, as was any word as to what had happened to the Echo of Damnation out by Lehon, but that was not something he could do anything about at the moment. Ur Skell, the Prefect in charge of their Shili base, was present in a place of honour near the centre. He was joined by Jarulek and Jark of Domain Anor, Barabus and Xarl of the warrior caste Domain Lah, and Torfa Yim (Mira's twin brother) who was the only member of the Shaper Caste in attendance. The rest had joined Mira to assist with the Ossus Project. They stood in a half circle with its face open to the Executor's approach. All eyes, most of them grafted implants, were focused at the elected leader of the Praetorite Vong. To them Nem was the Yu'shaa, Prophet of Yun-Yuuzhan, a title he much despised but reluctantly accepted.

He'd be lying if he said the irony of the situation didn't amuse him, at least a little. He was after all an avowed atheist, a non-believer that would have been put to death if that traitorous bastard Shimraa was still Supreme Overlord. It seemed maddening to him that despite all he had revealed to his people about the origins of the Yun'o, they still refused to accept it for the fiction it was. That's why he didn't try anymore. Faith had a way of convincing people to do things that common sense should have dictated otherwise, but given time, perhaps they would come around. He was nothing if not patient.

A hulking brute of a Yuuzhan Vong stepped forwards from their place in the circle. They would have been intimidating even if they weren't wearing the ceremonial vonduun skerr kyric battle plate of the warrior caste. Segmented legs and razor sharp spines of rigid crab shell added to the warrior's already impressive bulk, while the intense red glow radiating from his ocular implants over his ritually scarred corpse pallor features made the fierce looking subaltern appear as a demon from the intergalactic void. The warrior's thin lips were twisted in a grimace, splitting just enough to expose jagged yellow teeth grit in black gums. Xarl Lah, former paramour of the Executor and Commander of the Praetorite's mobile infantry division, faced Nem with his grotesquely muscled arms crossed over his barrel of a chest. When the warrior spoke, his voice was like gravel tread underfoot, vibrating in his ear due to the vacuum villips they were all equipped with.

Only here in the vacuum of space, communicating with organic telepathy-based technology, were they truly ensured privacy.


{{ I'm sorry... }} His reply came smoothly, fluid even. Spoken as little more than a hoarse whisper, his words carried the weight of authority, and were received with the respect due his experience. If only he could share with them his entire history. Perhaps that would make them see reason. {{...to pull you all away from your, mmm, important work. Heh. }} Every one of them could hear the sneer written across his disfigured face. {{ But we have reached a critical stage that requires a consensus from this council. You all chose me as your leader, but I am no Supreme Leader who would demand your obedience by divine right. The blood running through my veins is as black as yours. Like you, I wear the scars of betrayal across my flesh. We are the Children of Yun-Yuuzhan, equal in all but elected title. As your leader I will speak of our future. }} He raised his arm and extended his index finger, moving it through the air from right to left. {{ Then you will decide what shape that future will take. Scab! }}

The last word, which he shouted into his villip, was also a name. It belonged to the Executor's chazrach man-servant, a hunched back reptilian with limited intelligence, not quite sentient really. But it was very good at carrying his things. As you might imagine, a holder of high political office like Nem had quite a few important things worth carrying, and Scab carried them all. The chazrach appeared in the open hatch-sphincter of the Bleeding Orifice, Nem's personal transport, and descended the ramp at a hobbling shuffle. Held in the membranous black surface of its vacuum cloaked swathed hands was the Executor's amphistaff, Shem-Veesu, a three meter long serpent with a scaled hood that extended out from the sides of its head. The amphistaff was also exceptionally ill-tempered, which was why the Executor tended to avoid using it. However, in this instance he chose to wield it as a badge of office. Leaning forwards, he rested his hands on the amphistaff's rigid length and picked it up, holding his thumb far from the reflex that would send an electrical impulse to realign the serpents semi-crystalline cell structure into its more malleable state. Even locked in position, Shem-Veesu's snout hissed aggressively and dripped venom from its fangs that ran down its length and numbed Nem's hand even through the impermeable layer of his vacuum cloaker.

{{ As I said, we are at a critical stage. Anobis has proven itself a suitable colony for the chazrachs. With continued support from the local inhabitants, I predict they shall achieve full autonomy within a few generations. The arrangement struck to provide for the First Order's agricultural needs will see that they remain in Imperial good graces for the foreseeable future. }} Holding Shem-Veesu in his right hand, he extended his left with his index finger and thumb held an inch apart. {{ We are this close to redeeming a great miscarriage of justice committed by our people. To ensure this, I am moving my own domain from Zonama Sekot to Anobis, where Domain Yin will personally assure this wrong has been corrected. }}

Silence. Not all of them agreed with releasing the chazrachs from bondage. In fact most of them didn't. Exploiting the questionably sentient reptoids was so ingrained in their culture they couldn't imagine a life without their faithful slaves. However, they all knew Nem's feelings on the matter, the passion with which he pursued this cause. And they knew what the result of crossing Domain Yin would be. Many domains had met their end in bloody midnight massacres committed by the assassin-turned-intendants. This was not a topic open to discussion.

{{ No dissent? Good. Heh. }} His smirk was felt like a stab in the ear. {{ As for Shili, it remains a stable base of operation and I am assured by Ur Skell here that the sacred Zonama Green herb has successfully taken root in the fertile soil of this world and has a produced a potent new strain that will soon be ready for harvest. }} This was greeted by a few cheers. {{ I recently received word from Mira Yim. The Master Shaper informed me that operations on Ossus are proceeding as planned and relations with the Jedi remain strong. As you may have noticed, she has already taken the majority of the Shaper Caste with her. }} He paused and allowed silence to dominate for a few seconds before continuing, forcing his way through the protestations that followed his next words. {{ I would like them to stay there, indefinitely. I know what many of you are thinking, but there is no safer place in this galaxy for our shaping cortexes and bio-engineering elites, outside perhaps of a First Order controlled black-site. Our friends and allies though these Imperials may be, I am not prepared to hand them a hostage by which we can be compelled to undesired action. }}


{{ The shaper caste will remain with the Jedi Lords on Ossus. I am convinced that given our contribution to the revitalization of his world, High Lord Malvern will agree to this request. I plan on contacting him soon to secure the arrangement. }} Many among the Praetorite's various political circles were still upset that Nem had donated one of the Yuuzhan Vong's last remaining world brains to the Ossus Project, but if their people became permanently entrenched upon that world, it would at least become palatable.

To be continued...

Continued...

On the lunar surface of Shili-Secondus, the meeting of the Praetorite high council continued under the supervision of its elected leader. Absent an atmosphere of its own and limited gravity, all the members in attendance were wearing vacuum cloakers and star-fish shaped gnullith-villip hybrids that both provided a supply of oxygen from the lung-worms on their backs as well as allowed them to speak to one another while exposed to the frigid vacuum of space. It hadn't been the most practical choice for a meeting location, but the Executor hadn't chose it because it was convenient. He chose it for the privacy it provided, for no one would be able to eavesdrop as only those that had been approved were able to connect to the closed villip-circuit. Nem continued, moving on from the discussion of relocating the remainder of the Shaper Caste to Ossus, on to other matters at hand.

{{ With that settled, I would like to move on to the issue of synergizing our armed forces with the First Order. I believe our esteemed member from Domain Yim has made progress on the upgraded version of our vonduun skerr kyrric. Master Shaper, if you would be so kind as to fill everyone in. }}

A lanky Yuuzhan Vong practically hidden behind Xarl's wide armoured bulk stepped into the middle of the circle. Like the Executor this Yuuzhan Vong was wearing a vacuum cloaker to protect against void exposure, but over that he was also wearing a ceremonial set of shimmering glistaweb robes that denoted his station as a high ranking member of the Shaper Caste. Torfa Yim first offered the Executor a respectful bow before beginning to address the gathering.

{{ Thank you kindly, Executor. Indeed, the efforts of my domain have resulted in great strides in improving the arms and armour of the warrior caste, while remaining mindful of the cortexes and not veering too far beyond the scope of our predecessors. }} While it was no longer a religious crime to breach the shaping protocols recorded in the cortexes, straying too far from tradition was still highly frowned upon. More complex heresies such as the creation of Slayers or Voxyn had been outright banned by the Executor, who felt those abominations were too directly tied to the former and much despised Supreme Overlord. Torfa motioned to the crowd and another Yuuzhan Vong stepped into the circle, holding a prototype of the new crab plate. Torfa's voice droned on as he explained his craft. {{ Now if you zoom your mqaaq'it in on the left pauldron here, you'll see the Praetorite emblem embossed on the shoulder plate. On the right shoulder, however, you will notice an unfamiliar marking. }} Holding the plate up, he revealed the emblem of the First Order on the pauldron's rounded surface.

In the midst of the Master Shaper's explanation, background chatter sounded in Nem's ear as several of the Praetorite elite in attendance were murmuring amongst themselves. With so many conflicting voices, he could just barely make out a few of the things they were saying.


Hissing through his teeth, Nem interjected himself into the conversation, practically growling as he spoke over the gossiping voices.


Lifting his emerald hued mqaaq'it to the starry canvas above, the Executor finally saw what had everyone's attention. There in the black stretch of sky overhead was a miid ro'ik warship, but not the one he was expecting. Gliding into view like a graceful void beast was the Echo of Damnation, sister warship to the Praetorite Command, one of the few vessels to survive the decade long scouting mission into the intergalactic void. No one had heard word from the ship in months. Somehow its commander, Nem's domain mate Kronn Yin, must had received word about the meeting of the Praetorite's elite. Though the 'how' was still uncertain to him, it was the 'why' that concerned him more. Why had it disappeared for the last several months and where had it been? Not to mention the fact that they still hadn't received word from the colony on Lehon. Banging the butt end of his amphistaff on the ground, the Executor silenced the gossip and focused all eyes on himself.

{{ Good! }} He exclaimed. {{ It's about time they returned. When Kronn gets down here he'd better have a good explanation for where they've been. }} Growling through gritted teeth, he motioned once more to the Master Shaper with a rolling flick of his wrist. {{ Please continue, Torfa. }}

The Master Shaper bowed. {{ Of course, Executor. Now if I can direct everyone's attention to the gill slits at the sides, you'll see we've done something a bit different...}}

Already well aware of all the improvements Torfa claimed to have made, Nem tuned out the self important ramblings of the Master Shaper, instead focusing his attention on the rest of the Yuuzhan Vong assembled. He could see Xarl, who stood a head taller than most of the other Yuuzhan Vong, gritting his crooked teeth as he grew angrier and angrier. There was nothing his former paramour enjoyed less than talking. He'd been subject to more of that than he wished to during the time they spent together recently on Byss, time that had ultimately spelled the end of their on and off again relationship. The galaxy was a much different place than it had been during the war, and where Nem had decided to move forwards and take it in stride, the subaltern still seemed to be stuck in the past. Xarl no longer spoke of a desire to die, but something in his soul had darkened, turning him bitter and cruel. He had seen it for himself when the two had decided to deliver some vigilante justice on the rain swept streets of the Ruling City on Byss. Though it had pained him to cut Xarl off, it had been necessary, lest Nem find himself dragged down into a pit of dark emotion as well. Moving on from Xarl, his ocular implants drifted over the rest of the assembled Yuuzhan Vong, most of who appeared less than enthralled in Torfa's long-winded speech.

In fact, some of them weren't paying attention at all. Blinking once, Nem activated the zoom feature on his ocular implants, increasing focus on prefect Ur Skell who still appeared to be staring at the sky despite the disrespect that showed towards Torfa. It was also out of character for the prefect, who Nem knew to be a strict observer of ceremony and Praetorite command hierarchy. Curious, Nem followed the path of Ur Skell's vision and looked up at the starry expanse above, noting for the first time that the Echo of Damnation was out of formation with the rest of the fleet. In fact, the miid ro'ik was just beginning to block his view of the Praetorite Command, which was now on the other side of its newly arrived twin. Harla's tits! What in Yuuzhan's name was Kronn doing? If this was another case of his domain-mate being barrel deep in a cask of sparkbee honey, they'd be having more than just words when they were reacquainted. As he watched the warship eclipse its twin, Nem could just barely make out movement across its craggy hull. Pressing his tongue to a hidden reflex inside of his mouth, the Executor activated his mqaaq'it enhanced vision, increasing the magnification level.

Across the yorik-coral and excretion armoured hull of the Echo of Damnation, its port side yaret-kor batteries appeared to be swivelling in unison as they positioned themselves with their steaming muzzles bared at the moon. By this point the other Yuuzhan Vong present at the meeting on the surface all followed the Executor's eyes, looking at what had taken his attention away from Torfa's very exciting self-promotion. Again the villip channel was polluted by chatter, which Nem largely ignored as his mind tried to make sense out of what he was seeing. Even the Master Shaper had stopped rambling on and was now looking at the warship overhead.

{{ Run. }} Gasped Nem without realizing he had said it. Every set of mqaaq'it set into corpse pallor sockets turned to their elected leader in that moment, not quite certain they had heard him correctly. The silence over the villip channel was eerie. Nem looked down from miid ro'ik overhead and spoke with great urgency, though the words felt like they were spoken by his mouth in slow motion.

Great globs of molten rock hurled across the empty void and impacted the unprotected port side of the miid ro'ik warship 'Praetorite Command', blowing burning gouges in its yorik coral hull, superheating the excretion armour until it shared that same volcanic glow and began to run like water. Crew operating in those compromised sections were sucked out of craters in the hull, strangled of breath in the cold embrace of raw vacuum. Explosions followed as the unexpected sucker punch from the Echo of Damnation overloaded critical systems and set the warship's bio-circuits on fire. It was all the sub-commander, who had assumed captaincy while Commander Alith Yin was on the lunar surface, could do to hold the ship apart. His warship screamed in his mind through the symbiotic connection of the cognition throne he was seated in. He felt its pain as its wounds ripped open further when a second volley of plasma fire followed the first, putting the miid ro'iks nervous system into shock. Despite the best efforts of its crew, the Praetorite Command began to list and fall through the sky, dropping its destroyer sized bulk down on the back of the matalok cruiser 'Legacy of Anquish'. Unfortunate to be positioned beneath the descending organic dreadnought, the spine of the Legacy shattered as the miid ro'ik struck, breaking in half before exploding in an expanding ball of flame.

From the barren and cratered surface of Shili-Secondus, Nem watched in stupefied awe as the other half of the Echo of Damnation's broadside volley reached towards the moon, streaking so closely overhead that he swore he could feel the intense heat of the magma streams through the protective temperature sealed layer of his vacuum cloaker. His eyes followed the destructive lances of fire, then his head followed, and finally his whole body until he found himself turned completely around. The Executor watched as the molten shot finally impacted, striking the moon like the amphistaff of Yun-Yuuzhan himself, sending teeth rattling vibrations through the ground and erasing the horizon behind a wall of encroaching fire. Yuuzhan Vong screamed and ran in panicked groups towards the collection of shuttle craft in the distance. A great rolling wave of lunar dust blasted sight obscuring sand particles into Nem's shielded face, forcing him to turn back around which was when he noticed he was the last one left. Raising his left hand to his neck, the intendant placed two fingers on a fork in one of his risen veins and tapped it twice, triggering the reflex which sent a tide of combat stims flooding through his bloodstream.

No time to think. Only time to run. Running with greater enthusiasm than he ever had before, the Yuuzhan Vong intendant quickly caught up to the fleeing members of the Praetorite council, even passing some of them as the shuttles they arrived in seemed to grow larger as the distance between them closed. Yet the rumbling in the ground never ceased, and cracks were forming across the lunar surface as they fled towards their transports. Fire erupted from the ground in places where the plasma had found a channel from which to vent its fury. As Nem ran, one such fountain of fire formed beneath the Yuuzhan Vong ahead of him, flash heating them to vapor in an instant. That had been Alaitoc Yin, he was certain of it. The only member of his domain stupid enough to wear crab plate to the meeting. He could have learned a thing or two from the youngest member of Domain Yin in attendance. Alith Yin had already made it to the yorik-et fighter craft he had arrived in and was half way back to his burning flagship in orbit, that was growing larger by the second as it fell towards Shili-Secondus' fractured surface.

Nem had been forced to stop a moment to shield himself from the debris scattered by Alith's escape, forcing his mqaaq'it to see through the rising dust cloud towards where his ship should be. Just then he was struck from behind as another Yuuzhan Vong in a jet black vacuum cloaker the same as his own speared into him, driving their right shoulder into the base of his spine and taking him to the rocky ground. Joyful rivulets of pain were expressed by his living attire through their physically bonded connection as its void resistant skin scraped along the unforgiving lunar surface. The assaulting Yuuzhan Vong attempted to capitalize on the grounded Executor by trying to wrap Nem's legs with his arms, but the former Vong Reaver was as cagey an opponent as they came, and right now was also heavily dosed on combat stimulants. Taking advantage of the low gravity, Nem twisted in place until he was facing his hunched over foe, then lunged with his upper half. With bio-augmented speed he cocked back his left arm, his right still held Shem-Veesu, and drove forward the calcified knuckles of his fist into his opportunistic foes face. They yowled in pain as their head cracked back, the dark hood around their head falling away to reveal the face of the intendant Jarulek Anor.

Jarulek was part of the Praetorite scouting team sent to Lehon to study the planet and determine if it was suitable for Yuuzhan Vong colonization. Lehon where contact had been lost with the colony, and then later the Echo of Damnation had been reported missing. But why? There was a piece here that he was missing.

Nem quickly side stepped several paces away as Jarulek began to rise, the Executor twirling the three meter long amphistaff in his hands as fast as Mira's experimental gryo-beast. Around them the moon died, canyons and gorges were forming in the geography, while lakes of liquid fire bubbled up from the vents screaming sulphuric gas. Incredibly the stretch of terrain they were on somehow still survived; it was almost as though they had plot armour. Furious, the Executor vented his rage on the other intendant in a chastising verbal lashing. {{ How is it that you've turned traitor, Jarulek? Hmmm? I'd heard the stories of Nom, though sadly I never had the pleasure of his despicable company. I wondered if his entire line was poisoned, if perhaps too much groveling at Shimraa's feet had soured your blood. Made you weak. Why else attack when my back is turned? Eh, don't let the dishonour trouble you. You'd make an excellent reaver. }}

{{ Shut up! }} Raged Jarulek, drawing a coufee blade from his belt into his right palm and pointing the glinting razor edged tip towards Nem's glowing green eyes. {{ I'm doing this for Her. You were wrong about her experiments. She's brilliant. A queen to both voxyn and slayers alike. She's made me strong. }} The assassin's empty left hand came up and grabbed a handful of his vacuum cloaker, then ripped the membranous layer away in an a grotesque display of strength. Nem thought he was about to see the other Yuuzhan Vong die from void exposure, but instead he saw the black chitinous armour of a slayer, impervious to the vacuum.

Nem's eyes widened in shock. It all made sense now. By Yuuzhan's leathery sac, how had he not seen it? Lehon was home to exiled shaper adept Loraine Zun-qin. Loraine who had been personally sentenced by Nem for her persistence in replicating the slayer and voxyn projects. She had been furious at his decree, but he never thought her capable of this level of treachery. Yet, he could see her work as plain as day, written in the augmented flesh of Jarulek.

{{ You let that heretic shaper experiment on you? Jarulek, do you not see this is madness? }} The ground heaved underfoot, cracking into stony splinters. There was not time for this. Nem held Shem-Veesu's long staff like body diagonally across his chest, with the serpents spear shaped tail pointed towards the other intendant. {{ There is no time for this! Lay down your blade and together lets be away from this place. We're almost at my ship, there is more than enough room. }}


The intendant roared at the top of his lungs until the gnullith pried itself in terror from Jarulek's molting face, skin melting away to reveal a sleeker black creature beneath, not quite Yuuzhan Vong but also not so different. The altered intendant came at Nem with speed even his enhanced physiology struggled to keep up with. He found himself retreating as blow after blow landed, battering and bruising his limbs, cracking his jaw and knocking a few teeth loose from his twisted but already ugly face. Nem smiled like an infidel as his own black blood drizzled from a new gap across his gums. This was it then, a good death. About time really. Still, he had a bit of fight in him left. Lunging forwards with his head, Nem batted the harder part of his skull against the chimeric Yuuzhan Vong's forehead. Jarulek's head snapped back and as it came back forwards it was greeted by a wild grinning Executor with his amphistaff's spear-tipped tail pressed against the intendant's guts. It felt like victory, but that feeling passed as Jarulek opened his mouth and exposed long curved fangs like the teeth of an amphistaff. The intendant hissed and a narrow stream of venom sluiced from those fangs tips towards Nem, who just barely managed to get his arm up in front of the narrow seal over his face from his hood. The toxins burned against the membranous layer covering his arm, purifying the flesh beneath with fresh branding. The action had also blocked his view long enough for Jarulek to close the distance.

It happened so fast he wasn't entirely sure he had caught all of it. He remembered getting hit over and over again. That had hurt. The vast gulf between their speed and strength was apparent, and Nem's brawler tactics only worked so well. He was losing. Jarulek's fist hammered into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. As he was bent over, the other intendant wrapped his iron hard arms around Nem's chest and raised the Executor up into the air, before slamming his body back down on his already injured back. Nem let out a struggled gasp, unable to draw breath. As he willed himself to recover and tried to rise, Jarulek's fists rose and fell in a flurry of punches that rattled the Executor to the core. He coughed blood, and was certain he could feel something loose in his chest. His freakish foe paused, examining Nem's broken face and bruised body as he prepared to deliver the finishing blow. Jarulek's right arm cocked back as his hand curled into another fist, still dripping blood from the last blow it had rained down.

Supreme Mistress Loraine Zun-qin laughed cruelly as she stood on the bridge of the miid ro'ik warship 'Echo of Damnation', watching the void burn around them as the organic dreadnought continued through the flaming ruins scattered across the vacuum, the bulk of its hull smashing through smouldering debris. Its lava cannons found new targets, lobbing superheated rocks at the a-vek liluunu carrier 'Flayed Mans Cry' in front of it, while simultaneously taking pot shots at the ro'ik chuun m'arh 'Price of Pain' whenever it appeared on the far side of the growing debris field. The Yuuzhan Vong carrier suffered the worst as it was under fire from the Echo, its hull rupturing in places as explosions rippled across its oblong surface. Through the flaming wreckage, the Echo's dovin basal array pulled the Flayed Mans Cry towards it prow, using gravity to drag the Praetorite vessel beneath the onslaught of its yaret-kor while also moving it in range to unleash the warship's dread weapon.

The Mistress' mqaaq'it changed hue from their usual pink to a sinister blood red as she looked eagerly at the nearing carrier, a desire for vengeance written across her corpse pallor complexion. She bared her teeth at the image on the main screen, before licking her lips and seating herself in a barbed throne positioned at the commander's dais. The thorn-seat painfully pricked her posterior as she pressed her meaty buttocks against its exsanguinating surface, temporarily fusing the two lifeforms in a physical symbiotic connection.


Electrical impulses coursed through the Echo's bio-circuits until they reached the worm like organism bonded at the prow of the warship. Through the use of a cognition throne, a Yuuzhan Vong warrior on the bridge was able to send directions to the silicon based biot, effectively controlling it to some degree. The command was given for the dread weapon to attack, which it did with savage eagerness. Launching from the hollow crevice in which it was stored, the elongated leach stretched across the void until its fangs found the centre of the Flayed Mans Cry, then sank them deep into the carrier's yorik coral flesh. Instead of suctioning out the crew, the dread weapons mouth clamped down hard and began to retract, tearing open the a-vek liluunu's hull and exposing its crew to raw vacuum. The Flayed Mans Cry bled Yuuzhan Vong into the void from its wounds as fires continued to blaze across its damaged exterior. As the dread weapon came in for a second bite, it tore the central chamber out from the carrier, which included its yammosk that had been coordinating the Praetorite's fledging defense. The performance of the beleaguered coral skippers drastically decreased in that moment, allowing more to be picked apart by the swarm of slayer ships buzzing around the warzone.

In orbit over Shili-Secondus, the carrier died in agony, detonating as its magma veins were ruptured. A bright flash of light followed by an expanding ball of flaming debris temporarily blinded Loraine, forcing her to look away from the screen. When she turned back, she could see the smaller pieces that had broken away were being drawn into the Echo's singularity defenses where they were crushed into non-existence. A mirthful chuckle escaped her wicked lips as she watched the carrier join the rest of the Praetorite's broken fleet.

---

"Get us out of here!" Yelled the sub-commander currently in charge of the ro'ik chuun m'arh, Price of Pain, as the frigate analog rocked after another slayer ship strafed its hull with its magma spitters. It might sound cowardly, especially coming from a member of the warrior caste, but they had done all they could against a clearly superior force. Even a full forwards concentrated barrage by the Price's full complement of cannons wouldn't be able to penetrate the Echo's unbreakable defenses. As it was, they could barely hold out against all the enemy starfighters blasting coral chunks from their hull. The only option was to take advantage of their speed and try to escape.

To the rear of the bridge, the hatch-sphincter split apart with a wet squelch, admitting a dust covered Yuuzhan Vong that barely looked old enough to be out of the creche. Claw like talons pierced the young Yuuzhan Vong's shoulders, trailing a long robeskin cape behind his vacuum suited back. Cerulean blue mqaaq'it stared boldly at the main screen as the newly arrived figure crossed the bridge. "Belay that." Alith Yin finally said as he reached the sub-commander's station. After managing to escape the surface of the slowly exploding moon, Alith had been unable to board the Praetorite Command as it crashed towards Shili-Secondus, forcing him to head to the next friendly port. In this case that was the Price of Pain, which now was the only warship the Praetorite had left to its name. "We're not going anywhere without the Executor."

The sub-commander turned and snarled, indicating himself with a thumb against the chest plate of his vonduun skerr kyrric. "I'm in charge until Commander Cyrion Yin returns."

"He's dead." Replied Alith, before adding... "He never made it off the ground." Entirely likely given his age. Most members of the Praetorite, at least those outside of Nem's confidence, believed Cyrion to be the oldest member of Domain Yin. At two centuries of age, he had slowed to the point of requiring a specialized suit of crab armour to augment his waning physical strength. It was unlikely he would have been able to outrun the destruction. However, Alith spoke from a place of personal knowledge. He had watched as a burning boulder from the sky had flattened his long time mentor and domain-mate. Some of the blood spatter still soiled his attire. "And since my ship is not going anywhere..." The young intendant pointed at the Praetorite Command on screen just as it slammed into the surface of the moon and exploded with the force of a nuclear blast. "...I think I'll take Cyrion's empty seat."

Understanding dawned on the sub-commander. They had all heard the stories of the youngest member of Domain Yin, of his unparalleled command of void warfare. They knew he was young, but the sub-commander never imagined any Yuuzhan Vong under thirty would be placed in such a critically important role. He also knew it was foolish to argue with a member of Domain Yin. Already he could see Alith fixing him with one of those blood chilling Domain Yin expressions that said 'try me and I'll cut ya to ribbons'.

"Forgive me, Commander Alith. I didn't realize it was you." The sub-commander stepped away from the railing overlooking the bridge banks of cognition thrones and offered the place of authority to the younger Yuuzhan Vong. "What are your orders?"

"First we need to get away from that." Said their new commander as he pointed a naked finger at the view screen. The image showed the Echo of Damnation emerging from the flaming wreck of the Flayed Mans Cry, picking up speed as it hurtled through the void towards them. "Let's see here." Continued Alith as he studied their active radar and sub-space sonar displays. Hemming and hawing, the young commander seemed to quickly make up his mind on a course of action. "There!" He almost shouted as he drew a course on their navigation map that cut directly through the moon in the process of breaking apart. "I've found us a short cut."

"You want to go through the moon? That's a death sentence." Argued the sub-commander. He wasn't entirely wrong. "Then they'd be crazy to follow us." "That's because it's suicide." Alith shook his head. "I can do it." The sub-commander prepared his rebuttal but stopped himself from speaking it when he saw the clear look of determination etched into Alith's unreasonably calm features. Young though he might by, the intendant of Domain Yin projected nothing but confidence when he repeated the phrase. "I can do it."

Relinquishing command, the sub-commander threw his arms up in defeat. "Fine. Let him try it. We're all dead anyways."

With that sort of pessimistic outlook, the sub-commander would have made an excellent member of Domain Yin. The younger Yuuzhan Vong bared his jagged teeth in eager anticipation, sliding into the aviator's cognition throne as the warrior that had occupied it got out of his way. As the tall-yors neural cusp extended microscopic cilia into the pores of Alith's skin, bonding the warship and its commander symbiotically until two separate entities became one, the intendant's natural born eyes closed. When he opened them, he saw through the visual sensors of the ro'ik chuun m'arh, its senses now his own. Slayer ships assailed him from all sides, pecking away at their defenses as the Price of Pain attempted to outpace them. Manipulating the dovin basal array, Alith pulled the ship into a dive, following the path of the rest of the crashed fleet as he angled the prow towards the fractured lunar surface. Shili-Secondus glowed a molten orange against the starry canvas of space, but the commander's eyes hadn't misled them. He could see a path through, a very narrow path.

Ignoring the enemy starfighters in his way, Alith poured everything into the frigate analog's organic engine array, picking up speed as the bone spear at the end of the ro'ik chuun m'arhs prow looked ready to impale the moon.

---

Across the burning battle zone, Loraine watched the Price of Pain head towards the moon as the shattered orbital satellite began to drift into large separate pieces. She cursed under her breath, realizing what they were attempting. Turning to the pilots cognition banks, she gave the order to follow.