3
His move to Thyferra left Fliry Vorru in a perpetual state of simmering anger. After years spent in the spice mines of Kessel, with its thin, arid atmosphere, and then his short stay on Coruscant—similarly dry but decidedly more metropolitan and to his tastes—Thyferra was all but unendurable. Green predominated, from the deep and dark tones of the tropical planet’s rain forests to the lighter shades used in decorating, fashion, and even cosmetics. After Kessel’s barren mines and the gray canyons of Coruscant, Vorru found the omnipresence of verdant life oppressive.
The world’s humidity dragged on him as he walked the halls of the Xucphra corporate headquarters. One does not breathe the air here, one drinks it. The heavy humidity meant most of the fabric used on the world was light and thin, in many cases quite sheer, while the fashions themselves tended to be abbreviated. Although this did offer some distractions—for the women of Thyferra tended strongly toward tall, lean, and beautiful—many of the people he had to deal with were short, hairy, lumpen creatures who should have been swathed in bolts of the most opaque cloth available. Their positions as the scions of the various families that ran the Xucphra corporation and, now, the civil government, required him to be polite and even deferential.
This requirement to courteously entertain the most stupid of ideas ground on him most of all. Under the Empire’s rule, the Xucphra and Zaltin corporations had been given a monopoly on the production of bacta. Thyferra served as the heart of the operation, with alazhi harvesting and kavam synthesis taking place primarily on Thyferra, but also at a few colony worlds elsewhere. The monopoly had resulted in both corporations becoming slothful and greedy—with their profits guaranteed, there was no need for expansion or diversification. As a result, people rose to positions of importance with no eye toward merit, just seniority.
Vorru’s installation as Minister of Trade had given him oversight over the production and sale of bacta. His initial review of the whole production and distribution process had revealed to him hundreds of places where potential profit was being ignored. For example, bacta produced at a satellite facility would be shipped back to Thyferra before being transshipped to a world a dozen light-years away from the facility where it was produced. The only reason for such an activity was so the shipping firm, which was owned by Xucphra, could earn a profit, which ended up back in the pockets of the owners of Xucphra anyway—though it had been pared down by the cost of ship maintenance, crew, bookkeepers, and others.
This hardly surprised Vorru because of the way the Zaltin and Xucphra corporations had been set up. Ten thousand humans formed the management cadre for the corporations, and they oversaw the operations carried out by approximately 2.8 million native Vratix laborers. The Vratix were very efficient, requiring little or no supervision, so the galaxy-wide operations hardly required the legion of administrative personnel in place. Each corporation discouraged mixing and mingling with individuals from the other corporation, hence they became insular and fierce rivals. While their isolation had not caused problems with genetic inbreeding—though Vorru thought that was only a generation or two away—there certainly was philosophical inbreeding that led to sinecures being created for incompetent members of the corporate family.
I assume my last order to eliminate some of these fiefdoms is the reason Iceheart wants to see me. Xucphra had displaced Zaltin in the recent coup and installed Ysanne Isard as the world’s leader. Most of the Zaltin folks had fled or been killed, making the Xucphra family the sole masters of a world they had long shared. As such they had no desire to listen to or comply with the orders of an offworlder like him. Even so, they were so thoroughly socialized to accept a hierarchy of command, that they would complain about him to Isard, another offworlder. It made no sense to Vorru, and in this lack of comprehension he felt fortunate. The day I start thinking like my charges is the day I choose to die.
Rounding a corner, Vorru strode past the desk of Isard’s secretary, refusing to allow himself to be distracted by her spare costume. That is a pleasure I will save myself for solace after Iceheart is through with me. The secretary, a woman whose long black hair covered more than her clothes, smiled at him, but made no attempt to stop him or even announce him.
The Imperial Royal Guards flanking the doorway to Isard’s office did not react to him at all, which reinforced the pity Vorru felt for them. Unlike everyone else on the planet, they still wore the uniforms they brought with them from Imperial Center. A thick scarlet cloak covered the red armor and though no puddles formed at their feet, Vorru knew they had to be roasting inside it. Even more burdensome to them, though, had to have been the orders to relent and not treat everyone like a potential assassin. The Thyferrans reacted badly to the strict security Isard’s Royal Guard imposed initially, so she has orderd her bodyguard to relax—something that will probably require gene therapy before they feel at ease doing it.
As he entered Isard’s office, he immediately felt a bit more comfortable. The only greenery in sight was located outside the building and ensconced safely behind large, amorphous transparisteel viewports. The room itself had been paneled with very blond wood, giving it a Tatooinish cast. As had been the case with her office on Coruscant, it remained largely empty and free of clutter. Furnishings would be of use only if one wanted to linger here, and with her being present, this is not likely, even if she has gone native.
On Coruscant the black-haired woman with white temple locks had been given to wearing a uniform similar in cut to that of Imperial Grand Admirals, though hers was colored blood red, not white. On Thyferra she had chosen to wear clothing that was more loose and flowing. The fabric she chose was still blood red—in keeping with the uniforms worn by the Imperial Royal Guard—but she eschewed the nearly transparent cloth others wore happily. Pity, she is striking enough to wear it well. Vorru had long since heard the rumor that Isard had been one of Palpatine’s lovers and could not deny she was attractive.
Her eyes, and all that lies behind them, is undoubtedly what drew the Emperor to her. The Hothlike icy blue orb of her right eye contrasted sharply with the fiery molten red of her left. They seemed windows into the duality of her nature. She could be cold and calculating in the extreme, but also given over to towering incendiary angers. Vorru had, to date, avoided being immolated in one of them, but he had been scorched a time or two.
He bowed his white-maned head toward her. “You sent for me?”
“I have had information from Imperial Center that I thought you might find of interest.” She kept her voice light, but that did not mean it lacked force. “You had been wondering after Kirtan Loor.”
Vorru nodded. The Intelligence agent and leader of the Palpatine Counter-insurgency Front had disappeared just hours before Isard had fled from Coruscant, bearing Vorru away with her. “My assumption was that he had been taken and broken in interrogation. That was the only explanation for why so many of your operatives still on Coruscant were swept up in the aftermath of your departure.”
“He was certainly the cause of the sweep, though it appears he gave the information up voluntarily.” Isard’s eyes narrowed. “He attempted to use an operation of his own to deal with the bacta convoy headed for Coruscant through the Alderaan system.”
“The convoy that Warlord Zsinj hit.” Vorru nodded slowly. “Loor had told me he had a squadron of X-wings painted up to represent Rogue Squadron. He wanted to use them to strafe the squadron’s headquarters, but I stopped him. So the Rogues that Zsinj destroyed there really belonged to Loor. Amazing.”
“Indeed.” Her eyes flashed pitilessly. “Loor realized, after the disaster, that I had leaked word of the convoy to Zsinj so he’d strike at it. I assumed his need for revenge upon Rogue Squadron would make him hit it and destroy them. It would have, too, had the real squadron not been delayed. Loor apparently assumed I would realize he had attempted to deceive me, since his transmission of the report about the convoy and his plans to deal with it came too late for me to countermand them. He chose to run over to the Rebels and seek sanctuary with them.”
Vorru nodded. “There are ways to deal with him. Boba Fett could find and kill him, I have no doubt.”
“His skills will not be necessary.” Isard smiled in a way that managed to mix glee with cruelty. “I had learned from another agent of mine about a secret witness to be brought forward in the Celchu treason trial. I thought it was General Evir Derricote and set traps to prevent him from reaching the Imperial Court. You’ll recall I asked you to post a dozen people at various places in Imperial Center.”
“Yes.” And I only sent three to each location, since I needed the rest to evacuate my bacta storage facility. “None of them found Derricote.”
“No, he probably was not there after all. Loor was their witness. I had thought Derricote had escaped from Lusankya, but he apparently died at the hands of Corran Horn, during his escape. Horn killed your men in the Galactic Museum, in fact.” Isard pressed her hands together, fingertip to fingertip. “The agent I set as my failsafe to stop Derricote instead shot and killed Loor and, in turn, was killed by his own wife. She was one of Loor’s escorts—she had known him from Corellia.”
“Iella Wessiri.” Vorru felt a moment’s pang of sympathy for her. She had been an influential and intelligent member of the cabal that succeeded in stripping away Coruscant’s planetary shields and opening it to the Rebel invasion. Though her background with the Corellian Security Force made him view her as an enemy, he did admire her skill and dedication. If she had to shoot her husband, it will tear her up inside. She does not deserve that sort of pain.
Isard smiled. “I find it rather delicious that she was forced to shoot Diric. He was useful, but really just a pawn. His love for her was enough, apparently, to get him to reinterpret some of my orders to him, though, ultimately, he belonged to me, not to her. I hope that hurts her more than killing him did.”
Vorru frowned. “If Loor was killed, how did Alliance Security sweep up your agents?”
“Loor apparently encoded a datacard as a safeguard against them just killing him. It seems the key, which he believed known only to himself, was also known to Corran Horn.”
“Ah, and Loor believed Horn dead.” Vorru chuckled lightly. “I find the irony something that would have tortured Loor.”
“Yes, but now his stupidity tortures me. The information coming to me from Imperial Center is severely limited. The official information service tells me more than my spies. This Horn has much to answer for.”
“I could have told you he would be trouble, but even I believed you’d killed him. Horn’s father and even his grandfather were very driven men. Of course, you have ample evidence of his drive, and now it’s focused on us, here.”
The color in Isard’s red eye seemed to flare for a second. “You refer to the mass resignations from the squadron and their vow to liberate Thyferra?” Her laughter, which sounded quite genuine and unforced to Vorru, nonetheless had few of the pleasing tones usually associated with laughter.
“I appreciate the contempt you might feel for their effort, but it cannot be discounted. Yes, we have three destroyers, two of the Imperial, one of the Victory-class, and a Super Star Destroyer to defend us, but your confidence in them is as misplaced as the Emperor’s misjudgment of the Rebel Alliance.”
Isard’s face became a frozen mask. “Oh, you think so, do you? You think I am repeating the mistakes the Emperor made?”
Vorru met her stare openly. “You undoubtedly don’t see it that way, but it is my place to remind you of the errors others have made so you don’t repeat them. You are correct, Horn, Antilles, and the others have nothing right now, and it does seem apparent that the New Republic does not support their effort, but that could change. And, yes, we control the bacta output for the galaxy, but we must be careful. If we make it too dear, forces will join to oppose us, and the former Rogues are in an excellent position to make the most of that opposition.”
Isard stared at him for a moment or two more, then abruptly broke her stare off. “Your caution is noted.”
“I will also point out that we still have the Ashern to deal with here. They may be a minority among the Vratix, but they have struck in the past at key production facilities. Their strikes over the past year or so have become more precise and effective. I think they will become even more so because of the rumors that some Zaltin personnel have joined them.”
“Yes, the Black-claw Rebels are a bother, but that’s why I have deployed stormtroopers to defend our facilities.”
Vorru smiled. “That was a good move, as was restricting them to play a defensive role. Establishing a Thyferran Home Defense Corps that will allow Xucphra volunteers to fight the Ashern themselves was also brilliant.”
“Thank you. Xucphra’s people will come to see themselves in an alliance with my stormtroopers in no time. Once a THDC force gets in over its head and my people rescue them, the humans here will see my stormtroopers as the stalwart white line that separates them from death. Those who are dubious about us will be won over.” Isard spread her hands apart. “Erisi Dlarit is heading up the fighter wing I have given to the THDC. She is a hero among her people, and having her so elevated proves to the Thyferrans that I understand how superior they are.”
Vorru nodded slowly. There is no denying it, she is excellent at analyzing and utilizing the psychology of a subject people against themselves. Still, when there is someone she can’t break down, like Horn or Antilles, she has no way to defend against what they might do. He looked up at her. “And what are your thoughts on this rylca Mon Mothma pronounced a cure for your Krytos virus?”
“Propaganda, clearly, meant to calm the masses. The fact is that its existence and efficacy against the virus are immaterial. If Derricote had been successful in creating the virus I asked him to create or if Loor had delayed the conquest of Imperial Center, the New Republic would have been broken beyond repair. As it is now, they are hard put to deal with the demands their populace is making on them. As we restrict bacta flow to the New Republic and its worlds, we will alienate member states.”
“You mean we will be playing the same game we did on Imperial Center but on a larger scale here?”
“Exactly.” Isard glanced up, looking well above his head. “My goal has always been to destroy the Rebellion, then move to rebuild the Empire. In effect, by letting them take Imperial Center, we have destroyed the Rebellion. They are no longer an elusive force that can strike at will. They now have to take responsibility and deliver on the promises they have made. When they fail to do that, the people will look for the sort of stability they had before. If we play things carefully, we will not have to reconquer Imperial Center, we will be invited back to resume our rightful place at the head of the Empire.”
“Interesting analysis, and accurate, I think, except in one thing.”
“And that is?”
Vorru’s dark eyes shrank to bare slits. “Antilles, Horn, and the others. They have the freedom the Rebels once had. They are a problem we will have to deal with and deal with swiftly.”
“I was in a position to see them render Imperial Center defenseless.” Vorru’s voice hardened. “If we don’t deal with them I fear they will become a problem with which we cannot deal.”