Theocracy of the Unwilling

Chapter 6

The Consul inhaled. She sat in the dark room, alone. Her fingerprints lingered on the frosty surface of the glass. Stains were scattered in brown rings on the table top. The arteries in her hands pulsed, swollen with blood and serotonin and adrenaline. Adrenaline so strong that it could be drawn out with a needle.

Twenty-one men under the Ethnarc's iron fist in the Common House. Over ten renowned Tarentae comfortably settled in the seats of the Assembly of Barons. A select few given the privilege of serving Rend as the secret advisory board known as the Komturei. All pieces of a tyrannical jigsaw puzzle falling into place. All for the King.

The King was Yridia. Yridia was King.

Ronovi let the silence waft over her like the smokey smell of the office she resided in. She had not slept for days. The aura of the Kratocracy had kept her awake. Deep in her mind, she knew things had been taken care of too easily. There were bound to be a select few that had fallen through the cracks. And a few was too many.

The Consul exhaled.

By tomorrow morning, the unwilling would rise.

***

Feeling refreshed for the first time since his regular cowering sessions with Ronovi Tavisaen Tarentae, Morrisey Kritt surveyed the deck of what he was told belonged to the Conviction, a Corellian Corvette owned and operated by the faithful of the Church of Infinite Perception. Peering out of the viewports, he could see the dark shape of Pergitor, as well as the nearby Corvettes and Headhunters that rounded out the fleet owned by the Church.

"With your help, Morrisey," began the clear voice of Nilani, "we will be able to launch ourselves directly into their system, on top of Yridia IV."

Nodding, Kritt watched the other ships take formation around the Conviction. "I can provide the hyperspace coordinates that practically put us in orbit. With the Yridian Fleet scattered throughout the Minos Cluster, we'll hardly be contested."

"Good," creaked the old Preceptor from his seat at the helm of the ship. "We will be upon them before they realize it, and our Vong allies will lead our fighting men in a series of covert raids on their government base. It will be ours before they can dig us back out."

Arrayed behind the Precept, the four Yuuzhan Vong warriors stood proudly, each a powerful representative of their superior race, at least in their minds.

"Soon, we will destroy these Jeedai, and take the system for ourselves," growled one of the Vong, his scarred face betraying the blood lust that he felt in his heart.

"Yes, for all of us," muttered the Precept with an irritated glance back.

"Standby for the jump to hyperspace," the loudspeakers announced, crew members racing to their posts.

Watching as the pinpoint-like stars began to stretch into the tunnel-like perspective of hyperspace, the Preceptor grinned. "And how we will punish these fools who dare flaunt their power..."

Seconds later, the Pergitor system lay empty, with the exception of its dying namesake.

More news on the "Fiction, I Guess" front!

Next chapter, the aptly named Chapter 7, will be the final chapter of this arc. After that, we kick off the Clan run-on! I'm sure you'll all really excited about that, so be on the lookout next weekend when we get that going.

If you have any questions, feel free to email Glorious Leader Ronovi or myself.