Cross the black

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]
Khallesh took her seat, feeling deeply uncomfortable will the whole situation. Why hadn't the damned Shaper come? This was a job for her tongue, not the Huntress. Khallesh had been brought up in a traditional Domain. Despite all of Jun’s attempts to change her, she still struggled to adapt to being thrust into communities so far removed from what she was brought up in. Seeing isolated Yuuzhan Vong going native was one thing, seeing a whole community change to live under the humans was quite another.
“Their intendants have a stronger will than our own,” Khallesh observed. The difference between Ystrill and Welk was stark. “The fight couldn't be won, so they stepped up and survived. But still…if it came to this…backs together and fight to the last for me.”
She could have some respect for the way they had survived through political means, but that did not mean it was a path she could tread herself. Did they let Yuuzhan vong move between castes? Willard had said the flexibility of the infidels corporate world was their strength. Occupations died off when they weren't required, individuals took on the tasks they were best suited to. It wasn't something Khallesh could ever completely comprehend. Her kind had been shaped for a role. Thousands of generations of selective breeding, genetic manipulation, and then those changes made after birth. Surely it was more effective to be designed for a path and then follow it?
“Hmm. I often mock the infidels for their hedonistic attitude towards food. But after months of nutrition paste…I am quite looking forward to this.”

The only civil response he could scrape together was a grunt. Certainly, he would never debase himself to this level. It was either pride or death, no in-betweens. His nostrils flared as he stabbed Ystrill and Welk with scorching stares over the table. A few moments later, and he would have defaced the underside with his talons, but then a Shamed One brought food, and his ire was forgotten with the powerful clench of a ravenous stomach.

The Dragon dove right into his steaming plate – plate, how human – stuffing his face with the dripping chunks of meat. No propriety, no culture. Nothing but hunger left.

And by Yun’O, was it good.

Fat dripped down his chin as his bifurcated jaws made short work of the rare steak, tearing it into shredded little pieces before he gorged on the remains. He didn’t recognize the foreign flavor blossoming on his tongue, but the game here on Alderaan was alien and strange, like most beasts of this Galaxy. Though a bit wiry and prone to sticking between the teeth, the meat wasn’t too chewy, and the spice blend worked very well.

In short, it tasted like chicken.


[member="Khallesh"]

 

[Khallesh]

Through shaping, the remaining Yuuzhan Vong had long adapted to eat most native food. Though Jun had admitted that in the last few hundred years this had mostly been kept quiet. It seemed a lot of the work the shapers did was kept to the shadows. Whilst some was quite obvious. The Slayer by her side a clear example. Callo and Galdo Val were others.

Twins were relatively rare amongst the Yuuzhan Vong. The pair had been marked for greatness from a young age
They now looked remarkably different from each other. One had been escalated in the image of Yun-Harla, the other Yun-Yammka making them a living tribute to the Twin Gods of war.

She was used to being around escalated Yuuzhan Vong. She wasn't quite sure what image they had been building Kur-gal in. Certainly that ridiculous jaw had no practical advantages.

Khallesh made a small content noise to herself as she ate. It was not, however, as quiet as she had expected and she cast a glance around before continuing.

"We should be careful of when we choose to speak. We only need tolerate them, not embrace their ways," she said. That, in itself was probably heretical. He was potentially a dangerous creature to test when this close. She'd need room to dance around him and wear him down should they ever come to blows. Not that she expected such any time soon, but to consider such things came as naturally as breathing.

"See what our other castes offer, make a noise if it is more than we feel we can part with."

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

“Fine,” he muttered after a long pause. Like he had a choice. Kur-gal was a strong, brutish creature, ill-versed in the sophistry of negotiation. He understood it was a chessboard of sorts, though the pieces were more akin to ships in space, and all the players were blind. Neither he nor [member="Khallesh"] were bred this kind of game. Talk about a Wookiee in a china shop.

He snorted.

“I will practice… restraint.” The Dragon added at length and pushed his empty plate to the middle of the Shaped table. Across from him, Ystrill and Welk had just finished their own meals. Their manner was much more civilized, of course. Infidel huggers. He had to bury his talons into his palm once more to swallow the words on the tip of his tongue. His eyes still flashed red.

“Perhaps now we can discuss the matter at hand,” Welk spoke after a Shamed One cleaned up the dishes.

“If you’ll follow us to the conference room, please.”

Kur-gal’s eye twitched.

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

Khallesh finished what she was eating and washed it down, in no immediate rush to follow the others. They'd actually used another infidel word. Only because of her time at Jamaane's company did she know what it meant.

She allowed a shamed one to clear up after her. She was careful not to meet his eye. "At least," she whispered to Kur-gal, "can take some pleasure from how much they don't want us here."

At least the priest from the Legion was looking put out by their surroundings. Then something occurred to her. Khallesh had been looking for a key moment when she might be able to change proceedings. If she didn't then Jun would have wasted her influence getting here. Or perhaps not. Would just being here be enough to change the flow of events? Would the intendants act different just because the warriors were here.

Once again the shaper's machinations started to reveal themselves. Khallesh actually felt worse for putting that chain of logic together. She was used to being a a part of a larger system. It's just that she liked some clarity on what her function was. The highest levels of what remained of Yuuzhan Vong society seemed to be a battle for control, without blows being exchanged. If only the Warrior Caste held the same influence they had when all they did was make war.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

“Take pleasure, Commander?” He tilted his head, face blank. “That’s heresy.”

[member="Khallesh"] wasn’t the only one who’d spent plenty of time in the company of infidels. Much like her, Kur-gal had picked up certain… intricacies that the language and culture of the Yuuzhan Vong lacked. Though perhaps ‘lacked’ was too weak a word for it. Sometimes it seemed like humor and joy had been stricken from their very genes. Knowing their Shapers, it would be far from the worst thing they’d ever done.

Of course, thinking of it as bad was also heresy. Heh.

The Slayer felt his jaws twitch. The beginning of a treacherous expression, violently suppressed.

“Here we are,” Ystrill announced, redundantly. The ‘conference room’ was about as obvious as a couffee in your gut. Kur-gal muttered as much to Khallesh as they filed inside along with the rest of their delegation. Ducks in a row. The Dragon sneered at the infidel phrase that flitteed through his mind, eyes narrowing.

Welk cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, and the Slayer reveled in it.

Small things, Kur-gal. Small things.

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

Khallesh paid no mind to his comment. If it had come from another Commander, a superior, or even one rank below, she would have taken heed. She didn't believe it serious, not from the tone. Even if he had been, an accusation from the Slayer would be quietly brushed under the hau polyp. The reverse would not be true.

It had become ever more apparent to Khallesh that those in the upper echelons could get away with quite a bit of blasphemy as long as the rank and file followed orders. Perhaps the lessons of the Jeedai Heresy had been forgotten.

"Let's move on to discussions about how are groups can find a mutually beneficial arrangement," Welk said.

"If we can," a Priest said. Before anyone could add any more, he launched into a quiet prayer. At least he wasn't making a sacrifice. That probably would have upset the locals somewhat. Khallesh muttered the expected words, but otherwise stayed silent. A Warrior had a pragmatic mind, but she'd also been brought up within strict dogma. Now she was questioning whether silence was the right path to take. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

 

[Kur-gal Kwaad]

Ever since he’d set foot on this wretched planet, Kur-gal had been on edge. The easier, simpler explanation was that the negotiations were important, and that neither he nor [member="Khallesh"] were exactly qualified for this sort of thing. But the true reason lurked far beneath the surface, dark, infectious, and pervasive. Doubt.

The Dragon was afraid.

Afraid of all contact with Yuuzhan Vong that had accepted a different way of life. It was pathetic, pitiful, and yet so damnably true. He, a Slayer, a veteran of the bloody and vicious war between the Sith and the Republic, was scared chitless.

There were others like him, it meant. Others whose faith wavered and withered away like a wounded beast. He wanted to believe, oh, how he prayed and begged for that burning flame of faith. But there was nothing left but dying embers, growing colder with every passing month. The slow decay of the Yun’Do fleet did nothing to allay his fears. Why didn’t the Yun’O come and show them the way? How could they leave them to flounder in the darkness of space? How dared they?!

Kur-gal bared his teeth when the sermon began, averting his raging gaze from the Priest. He felt the wounds on his palms reopen again and forced his fists to unclench. It took all he had left to give, all he had left of his crumbling restraint.

His anger didn’t go unnoticed. Welk leveled him with a curious gaze, then turned back to the main delegation. The prayer was finished and the chamber fell quiet again.

“Well… now that’s done with, shall we attend to the matter at hand?” His lips twitched in an expression that Kur-gal deduced was supposed to be a smile. “We would hate to keep you here. Certainly you have important tasks awaiting your attention.”

His discomfort was as obvious as it was disgusting.

 

[Khallesh]

[member="Kur-gal Kwaad"]

Nintehl Selk, the priest, did not look to Kur-gal incredulously. Instead he fixed Khallesh with a stare for his impudence. As if he was her dog to leash. Their caste still held much influence. They might have lost some of their hold over Domain Val in the last year. Khallesh' predecessor had been much closer to the Yun'o.

Juun Phaath had once suggested that removing their caste from mating arrangements would take a lot of their influence away. Khallesh had queried thus and Juun had smiled sweetly and explained in her own way.

Say you want that Commander with the broad shoulders and jawline and a history of exceptional duty mapped out in scars. The priests get to deny such a thing if you fall out of favour. Even now, cross domain and caste arrangements are more common but never unless a priest had stood to personally gain from the arrangement. The infidels have a term "crime of passion". More than a few casualties have occurred to appease the priests.

Khallesh had thought it mostly drivel, another attempt to wind her up, but the constant maneuvering by the religious caste to keep their power base was all too clear.

"To get to the point then, what can you offer us?" Ystrill asked of the delegation. Now that was a bold question, Khallesh decided.