And They Shall Have Their Revenge

2000 story by Jonathan Hicks

Thirty years after Episode IV – A New Hope

BOOK ONE

Chapter One

He did not need to hear the shouts and calls of alarm. He did not need to hear the hurried footsteps or the urgent banging on his chamber door. He had been aware of a problem since he had sent out his messengers to communicate with the others on the worlds of the Ki-Ki Sector. As the familiar hum of power had built up in his mind as the messengers had cast their transmissions to the other worlds, he had been aware of something else. A thought, a feeling he had not felt before in all his years as a Mind of the Ki-Ki’s capital planet Fedarn.

That feeling had built up over the last few moments, and he had become aware, as had others in the order no doubt, that something was terribly wrong with one of his Minds.

He had started to rise from his seat to approach the door even before the banging had begun.

“Lordmind Estoor!” He recognised the panicked, high-pitched voice of his personal acolyte, Hillit. “Lordmind Estoor, come quickly! You must!”

Estoor extended his consciousness a little and opened the door by force of will alone. His thoughts entered the frame, the lock, the very material of the door and it responded to his command by sliding open. This interrupted Hillit mid-knock and he almost fell through the door with consternation.

“Lordmind Estoor!” he continued to shout, his mental voice louder than his natural one and grating every nerve in Estoor’s synapses. “It’s Mind Gilgalen. Something is wrong!”

Estoor strode straight past Hillit as if he wasn’t there, his robe swirling around him and casting the wall-light’s beams in all directions as it ricocheted off the pearlesence in the material. Other Minds were running down the corridor in the same direction. The hall was wide and high, with great carvings of some long-forgotten sculptor marching down the walls in a precise geometric pattern. The ceiling was way off in the heavens, with ribbed rock and stone tapering to a point in the darkness far above. Everything was carved with exact symmetry.

Estoor waited for a gap in the flow of traffic and joined the rush, deliberately slowing his step to cast an aura of indifference. He was, after all, the Lordmind, and these bald, scurrying, pathetic others were not showing him the respect he deserved as they swept past him. He reached out with his thoughts to touch Hillit’s brain.

“Enough of your panic,” he implanted the words into Hillit’s mind with a slight twist which made Hillit wince. “Control yourself. Which is it?”

Hillit wiped blood from a faint trickle that had suddenly appeared at one nostril. He sniffed heavily and swallowed. “Mind Gilgalen is in the third enhancer. He was communicating with Mind Filli on planet Chinngard. They were sending their report when he suddenly started convulsing, and then... then...”

“Then what?”

“He started screaming with his voice! Lordmind Estoor, he has not spoken naturally for twenty years!”

Estoor halted, causing Hillit to collide with him softly as he had not expected such a reaction. Other Minds swerved to avoid the obstruction.

The high collar around Estoor’s head seemed to pulsate as he towered over Hillit. “You babble, acolyte!” Estoor roared into Hillit’s head, causing the poor acolyte to scream mentally and physically as something burst in his face. Blood started to trickle from one eye. Passing Minds winced at the mental onslaught. “If you are to bring me news then bear it truthfully! Gilgalen would not dare speak aloud now he is a messenger!”

Blood now covered Hillit’s hand and collar as he sank to his knees.

“I swear it is true, Lordmind! Mothermind Loritacia told me herself! That is why I was sent to bring you!” He fell forward whimpering, blood soaking his robes. He ceased to murmur as the punishment stopped. He remained there, not daring to look up at his torturer.

Estoor stood above him, the memory of what he had done to his acolyte already falling from his thoughts. His gaze slowly turned as he looked down the high-ceilinged hall to where the enhancers were, great machines that amplified a Mind’s thoughts and cast them over the vastness of space to other worlds. It was not known whether the mental skills of the Minds were induced by the Force, although Jedi’s who had visited the Mindmoon over Fedarn had felt a tremor. Their skill did not extend to the high powers of the Jedi’s – the Minds consisted mainly of those whose skills were weak, those who had failed the Jedi testing and those who were too old to train.

The hall was a mass of bodies in robes of different orders, all responding to the mental urgency in a different manner. Some were heading for their shielded quarters to escape the panic. Others wandered in a daze, obviously confused as to what was happening. Others waited for medical help as they sat against walls, bleeding from ears and noses and eyes, looking up with sightless eyes as they tried to block their minds from whatever was happening at enhancer three.

This is impossible, Estoor kept his thoughts to himself. Gilgalen is my greatest messenger. He would not react to a situation like this! What is wrong with him?

Estoor turned sharply away from the bundle of bloodied robes on the floor and stalked of, more urgently than before, to see Gilgalen for himself.

The press of bodies surrounding the entrance to enhancer three was more than twenty deep, with bald heads of lesser acolytes of many species bobbing as all tried to see over the first arrivals ahead at the door. Estoor strode up with an air of power and importance, and his anger was doubled as only a handful of Minds moved away respectfully. With a great mental roar that started a few severe headaches, the mass parted to allow him through.

Estoor approached, trying not to show the pain he was feeling as he came closer to the door. He managed to keep his composure and as he entered the room, he allowed his eyes to widen.

Gilgalen was strapped to his reclined seat, which was ornately decorated with metals of value and amplifying qualities. Above him was suspended a glass dome with the curve fitting snugly with the ceiling. Machines of delicate quality were wired into the seat, but these now sat quietly, either turned off in the panic or burnt out by the powerful mental waves. The walls were decorated with the same patterns that dominated the halls. The enhancers controlled all transmissions throughout the Ki-Ki sector – a very powerful and influential position for and order. With holonet there was very little need for the enhancers as they were old and outmoded but tradition played a large part in the sector and the expense of introducing huge hyperspace transmitters on the many planets of Ki-Ki was high.

Around the seat were several powerful Minds, including Loritacia, the Mothermind of the female order. She looked at Estoor with bloodshot eyes and narrowed them. Other, less powerful Minds stood around in disarray, some holding their heads in concentration. Three Minds lay on the floor, blood streaming from their eyes and ears. Estoor could detect no resonance from their thoughts, and so surmised they were killed in the initial psychic explosion.

His head began to swim as his gaze fell upon Gilgalen again. There was a strong rhythmic beating from his mind, and his blood vessels on his bald head stood out as he controlled his thoughts to keep the waves of power from scrambling his brain. Gilgalen had stopped screaming. There was no sign of injury, but his back was arched at such a severe angle Estoor was sure it was broken. His robes were torn and twisted. His flesh was red with strain and his veins stood prominently all over his sweating body.

Estoor approached Loritacia, trying to combine physical movement with mental control. As a result, his steps seemed stiff and angular. Loritacia watched him approach, her eyes still narrowed. Her face was a combination of anger and control.

“Three of my order have gone into premature labour because of this, Estoor,” she allowed the words to slip through her control as if she had said them physically through gritted teeth. “This will set my birthing program back by months.”

Estoor knew of the problem Loritacia was having trouble finding fresh female Minds, but he had no pity. He let his gaze wander around the room to see if anything were out of place, knowing his sense of indifference would outrage the Mothermind.

“I would share that anguish if I knew exactly what was happening, Loritacia, my dear. But, truth be known I am more concerned with the welfare of Mind Gilgalen. Does anyone here know what is happening?”

Loritacia allowed the comments to sweep past her anger, storing the Lordmind’s dismissive remarks for future consideration.

“Mind Gilgalen started an unnatural reaction to the enhancer less than ten minutes ago. He began to lash out with his mind. Why, we don’t know. The medical ‘droid says that whatever happened has made him spasm so hard his back is broken. The only reason he isn’t thrashing around now, he says, is because he has paralysed himself. The ‘droid thinks he may have done it purposefully to shut himself off.”

“Is the damage repairable?” Estoor’s first concern was losing one of his best messengers. The unfortunate mess in the enhancer before him was nothing more than a deductible, but a very costly one.

“No. Gilgalen will be dead in a few minutes. His heart is bleeding and his brain has ruptured in more than a dozen places. He lives by desire alone.”

“Has anyone attempted to probe his thoughts to ascertain what has happened?”

The Mothermind motioned to the unfortunate few who had emptied their bowels on the polished marble floor. “They are your best, Estoor. They could not penetrate Gilgalen’s mind without some kind of penalty.”

“Gilgalen does not have the power to hold out even these few. The enhancer is off. How is he managing this?”

“I suggest we interlock our abilities, Estoor. The thought of joining minds with you sickens me to my very core, but I see no other choice.”

Estoor nodded agreement, his consternation growing so rapidly the Mothermind’s discomfort at working with him seemed reasonable. He stepped towards her, his eyes level with hers, and he bought down his wall as she did hers. Together they let their gazes fall upon the unfortunate Gilgalen.

At first, resistance. Secondly, an invitation which is snapped away and replaced by another impenetrable wall. To the invaders, it appears as though a coloured pattern has appeared, superimposed over their normal vision. The pattern swirls chaotically as if coloured ink has been dropped slowly into clear water. The ink begins to swirl as other colours join. Colours not known to either Mind. This chaos, they know, is a shield to keep out potential thought-stealers. The ink begins to disperse, with late colours added as if resistance is now weak or half-hearted. The colours dissipate to reveal a tunnel of light into a void so dark it is possible to fall forever but feel safe doing so. A light appears at the very depths of the darkness, and begins to grow. Both Minds close their eyes as they try to discern the shape of the light, the pattern of the light. It grows. Something else. A nimbus around the light that pulsates sporadically. A light not recognised by the Minds. A light that should not be pulsating with such random colours, for all Minds are systematic and regulated. The nimbus grows. It turns as if seeing the intruders. It grows so rapidly it gives no time for the Minds to retreat, but the black light shining from the colours sends a feeling of anger, betrayal, fear. The colours swirl. The tunnel of light flies away as the intruders withdraw, their thoughts so intent on their actions they lose control of bodily functions. The impact of the floor does not deter them from fleeing. The ink. The clear wall. The nimbus is left behind.

Estoor opened his eyes to feel them sting as bright light struck them from the ceiling lights. His mouth was dry, his back hurt and his head throbbed. Several Minds stood over him, offering hands of help and aid.

He then realised he was lying on his back. He had fallen hard on the stone floor, injuring his back and shoulders, landing hard enough to break the skin on his head and bleed. Strangely, he felt glad he had missed breakfast that morning. He allowed the hands to encircle wrist an arm and haul him to his feet. His undergarments stuck to his sweating skin.

The Mothermind was already standing, leaning against her own acolyte for support. She looked at Estoor with her usual narrow-eyed gaze.

“Well, Lordmind. It appears we have...”

“I do not think we have the right to speculate on what we saw in his mind,” Estoor said aloud, making many gasp in astonishment. Estoor only spoke aloud when he had an important point to make. “I think we both agree that what we saw in Gilgalen’s mind was hardly of his own doing. Something else was in there with him.”

“Have you ever seen such wild colours?” Estoor could see concern on the Mothermind’s face as she transmitted the question.

“No. Never. I have never seen such colours. It appears we have a new form of thought here.”

“One that, sadly, has killed poor Gilgalen.”

“Sadly, yes. It was only he who could have explained what was in there. Killing him.”

“It must have had something to do with the enhancer. He must have intercepted something.”

Estoor shook his head and took a step, a step which rubbed the moisture under his robe and reminded him of his embarrassing state, and looked at the enhancer in it’s entirety. “The enhancer is off. It played no part in his death.”

The crowd at the door was now being dispersed by the Mindguard, a troop of hardened bodies trained to use their skills for conflict. Their grey close-fitting suits began to intermingle the crowd and the Minds began to move away, some still casting furtive glances in the direction of the chamber, their defences still up in case a fresh psychic burst began.

“I must contact my Mind on Chinngard. Mind Filli may also be hurt.” The Mothermind gathered her robes and began to head for the exit with her company. Estoor made no move to allow her to pass, forcing her to step around him. He was impressed with her concern for her Minds, but it was out of emotion and not of sense. This, to him, was her failing.

He began to scan the room again.

Gilgalgen is killed by a force as he communicates with Chinngard. There is nothing wrong with the enhancer. Gilgalen is of sound mind and soul. Maybe the fault was not his.

Estoor suddenly swung around to face one of his Cheifminds. “I want a starship ready within the hour and a Mind sent to Chiropa. I refuse to believe this was Gilgalen’s folly. Investigate Familee on Chinngard and have him report to me daily.”

The Cheifmind looked around nervously, and channelled his thoughts so that only his Lordmind would intercept them. “Lordmind Estoor, Baron Pede Familee has a huge distrust of the Minds. He will not take kindly to an intrusion by one of our kind.”

Estoor had already started for the exit, anticipating the Cheifmind’s response. “I care little for the personal views of a Baron. If he wants to bring the whole of House Familee into disrepute by refusing a Mind then let him. Not even he can deny the Prime Lord’s wish to station a Mind on every planet. If Chinngard wish to become part of the Ki-Ki Sector then they must realise that. Detaching themselves from the troublesome Setnin Sector will have some repercussions.”

The door was now clear of Minds, and Estoor left the room quickly to return to his quarters and bathe.