• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Leia’s guards stopped at the door. Ignoring Randa, she resolutely walked forward.

“Good morning,” she said.

The warmaster turned slightly, showing half his disfigured face. Leia thought she saw a smile on the fringed lips.

“Come here,” he said.

She walked to the window. Between the research building and the construction barns, the new pit had been dug deeper. Down inside lay a jumble of machinery and construction droids.

“The gods give good portents today,” the warmaster said, nodding toward the black-robed female. “It is a good day to burn sacrifices.”

Leia gripped the window ledge with four fingers. “Wait! This is an enclosed dome. Open fires will deplete your own oxygen. You must—”

“Your expectations are false. The creatures who cleanse our shipboard air will purify it inside your built monstrosity, as well. When waste gases increase, they simply multiply faster. Again, you see that technology is no match for life itself.”

“I agree,” she said firmly. “Life is vital. Living creatures are complex, matchless, and blessed with intelligence. So you must not—”

“All living creatures serve the Yuuzhan Vong,” he said. “And we serve the gods.” He nodded to the elderly priestess.

The priestess inclined her head, keeping her hands laced in front of her, both arms covered by long, full sleeves.

The warmaster turned back to the window. “Watch,” he said. “You must begin to understand the destiny that approaches you all, star by star, breath by breath.”

Several more warriors approached the pit, dragging another travois. Leia’s priceless mining laser, already smashed beyond usefulness, lay on top of it. The warriors maneuvered the travois into place, raised its end, and pitched the laser into the pit.

Then another black-robed priest led a procession toward the pit, including a second travois. Something that looked like a large tank was balanced on this. As the second travois tipped, a bulbous creature with six stubby legs scrambled out to the pit’s side. Leia had seen these fire breathers before. Big ones, at Gyndine.

This youngster trained its proboscis down into the pit and gushed out a stream of gelid flame. Leia glanced up and saw that the dome’s synthplas underside glistened with spots and splotches of red and white. As smoke rose toward the splotches, the white ones slowly reddened.

“Your biotechnology is marvelous,” she said dully.

“Do not call our servants technology,” he growled. “We serve the gods, and other living things serve us. This morning, we will return great honor to Yun-Yammka.” He stretched out one arm, pointing his clawed forefinger toward the pit. “Witness this.”

A line of Yuuzhan Vong guards circled around behind the refugees. At a signal given by one standing at a corner, each one let down an arm. Out of their sleeves slithered long black ropes. In a single, coordinated motion, they bent down for the ropes and brought up stiff, snake-headed amphistaffs. Then they drove refugees toward the fire pit.

“No.” As helpless as she’d been on the Death Star orbiting Alderaan, Leia turned to the warmaster. “No, you can’t do this. This is wrong.”

“This,” he answered, “will happen on all worlds. The worthy ones were removed from the group while you slept, Leia Organa Solo. Many agreed to serve us. In other settlements on this world, they will all serve us.”

Leia stared as the first line of refugees tumbled over the brink, clawing at the dirt and each other. Grieving, she looked away. She didn’t have to watch them die. She felt it through the Force, like blows hammering her gut. She backed away from the window.

The warmaster raised both clawed hands, made fists, and exclaimed something she couldn’t understand. Then he dropped his arms and turned toward her.

“Now, Leia Organa Solo,” he said, “you, too, will speak to the gods.”

The black-robed priestess raised both arms. Her attendants swept out their red-limbed crustaceans. The creatures’ long legs locked in an extended position, joined to the bodies by tendons that now stretched