Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 04_ Agents of Chaos 01_ Hero's Trial - James Luceno [4]
“What species are you?” Harrar asked in flawless Basic.
“I am Gotal.”
Harrar indicated the belted sackcloth. “Your attire befits a penitent more than a scholar. Which are you?”
“I am both, and I am neither,” the Gotal said with purposeful ambiguity. “I am an H’kig priest.”
Harrar twisted spiritedly on the cushion to address his retinue. “Good fortune. We have a holy one in our midst.” His gaze returned to the Gotal. “Tell me something of your religion, H’kig priest.”
“What interest could you have in my beliefs?”
“Ah, but I, too, am a performer of rituals. As one priest to another, then.”
“We H’kig believe in the value of simple living,” the Gotal said plainly.
“Yes, but to what end? To ensure bountiful harvests, to escalate yourself, to secure a place in the afterlife?”
“Virtue is its own reward.”
Harrar adopted a puzzled look. “Your gods have said as much?”
“It is simply our truth—one among many.”
“One among many. And what of the truth the Yuuzhan Vong bring you? Aver that you recognize our gods and I may be inclined to spare your life.”
The Gotal stared at him dispassionately. “Only a false god would thirst so for death and destruction.”
“Then it’s true: you fear death.”
“I have no fear of a death suffered in the cause of truth, the alleviation of suffering, or the abolishment of evil.”
“Suffering?” Harrar leaned menacingly toward him. “Let me tell you of suffering, priest. Misery is the mainstay of life. Those who accept this truth understand that death is the release from suffering. That’s why we go willingly to our deaths, for we are the resigned ones.” He scanned the captives and raised his voice. “We ask no more of you than we do ourselves: to repay the gods for the sacrifices they endured in creating the cosmos. We offer flesh and blood so that their work might endure.”
“Our god demands no tribute other than good acts,” the Gotal rejoined.
“Acts that raise calluses,” Harrar said in disdain. “If this is all that is expected of you, it’s no wonder your gods have abandoned you in your time of need.”
“We have not been abandoned. We still have the Jedi.”
Murmurs of fellowship moved through the throng of captives, reticently at first, then with mounting conviction.
Harrar regarded the disparate faces below him: the labrous and the thin-lipped, the rugose and the smooth, the hairless and the hirsute, the horned and the furrowed. In their home galaxy, the Yuuzhan Vong had attempted to eradicate such diversity, prompting wars that had raged for millennia and had claimed the lives of peoples and worlds too numerous to count. This time, though, the Yuuzhan Vong planned to be more circumspect, destroying only those peoples and worlds necessary to complete the cleansing.
“These Jedi are your gods?” Harrar asked at last.
The Gotal took a moment to answer. “The Jedi Knights are the trustees of peace and justice.”
“And this ‘Force’ I have heard about—how would you describe it?”
The Gotal grinned faintly. “It is something you will never touch. Although if I didn’t know better, I would swear you were sprung from its dark side.”
Harrar’s interest was piqued. “The Force contains both light and dark?”
“As do all things.”
“And which are you with regard to us? Are you so sure you embody the light?”
“I know only what my heart teaches.”
Harrar deliberated. “Then this struggle is more than some petty war. This is a contest of gods, in which you and I are but mere instruments.”
The Gotal held his head high.