Vol surged forward out of the dream so quickly that he hurled himself from his bed and landed hard on the floor, where he lay gasping, weak, so weak, sweat-soaked and terrified. He-used to manipulating objects in the Force, leaping great distances, crushing things with a thought-had not the strength of a new-hatched uvak. It was an effort to lift his head, to push himself up off the floor, and the muscles quivered from that simple strain.

Grunting, he dragged himself to a seated position, muscles trembling. It would have to do-rising, let alone walking, would take several more minutes. He summoned his last drop of energy and sent forth an urgent demand to Revar, the young Sith Saber who attended him. Four seconds later Revar burst into the room, lightsaber illuminating the darkness and the younger man's worried face with an eerie red glow.

"My lord," Revar cried, lighting the room with a gesture at the same time he deactivated the weapon, "what happened?" He rushed and eased the old man up onto the bed.

Vol opened his mouth, but could not speak. Finally, he rasped, "Abeloth ..."

"She was here?"

Vol shook his head. "No. In ... dream ..." He knew that he sounded senile, but he also knew that there were marks on his body that Revar and others could see. "My ship-take me to my ship. And awaken the Lords," he said, alarmed at how feeble he sounded. "And the defenses-the city ... she is going to ... to make the city pay ..."

Revar wasted no more time on questions. Using the Force, he lifted his Master as gently as possible, then, holding on to him, Revar raced, with Force-augmented speed, toward the hangar atop Vol's estate. There was always a small personal vessel at the ready; one never knew when the Grand Lord might wish to depart on short notice.

As they fled, Vol began to weep. Revar was disconcerted, but not so much that he did not pay close attention to the mumbled words.

"Nothing can hold her ... Fool to think I could use her ... What is she?... Mistake ... By the dark, the greatest mistake I have ever made ..."

Abeloth had been wandering the City of Gla.s.s when she had attacked Vol. She had been enjoying the calmness and prettiness of the place illuminated by the fireglobes, and had been idly thinking about what she might do with it once it came under her control. Should she make this her base, from which to rule the galaxy? It was quaint and charming. Or should she give it to those who had served her well, as a reward?

Too, the attack on Grand Lord Vol had been in her mind the moment Ship had begun to head for Kesh. She had wanted to strike here on this world, from the center of this place of which he was so proud; to show Vol and the others that nothing they held as precious was safe from her. She knew he was a powerful Force-user and strong with the dark side. And that, she could have handled.

But he had tricked her, had used a technique that his ant.i.thesis had used on her not so long before. He had learned the uprooting technique of the Theran Listeners, as had the despised Skywalker, and used it with even less care than that Jedi had.

He had- Abeloth screamed from a mouth that slashed her face in two. Unable to retain her form, unable even to notice that she had not retained her form, she thrashed and howled as tentacles erupted from her torso and her face shifted like melting wax. Her anguish used the Force as a weapon, as she had so often before, but this time she was barely aware that she was releasing nearly inconceivable amounts of Force energy upon a city that was completely unprepared for it.

There were several dozen beings within immediate range, some sleeping quietly in their beds. Most were with their families.

They imploded. Farther away, others awoke in agony as their bodies were turned inside out and chunks were ripped from their bones.

The entire city was attacked by a wind filled with gla.s.s shards, each a shikkar driven by a single purpose-to hurt anyone, anything, living inside the City of Gla.s.s. They were the Lost Tribe-they would suffer, all of them, as their leader had made her suffer.

The shards melted as they pierced flesh, spreading white-hot, painful death. The buildings, made of metal and gla.s.s, dripped slowly toward the ground, smothering those unfortunate enough to be dwelling inside them.

None of it harmed Abeloth, though she would not have noticed if it had. She barely noticed when she was lifted from the street where she lay convulsing up into the night air, and a large shape that looked like nothing so much as an angry orange eye sped toward her.

ABOARD THE BLACK WAVE.

Gavar Khai had chosen to spend the night on the Black Wave rather than with his wife. He had informed her of this prior to departing for the masquerade; as a good Sith wife she accepted that her husband had his reasons, and obeyed.

So it was that Gavar Khai survived long enough to become a widower.

Abeloth's agony wrenched him out of a sound sleep, and he heard the angry klaxon of an alert blaring through the ship. He threw on his robes and raced to the bridge, to find his crew, some only partially dressed, all bleary-eyed and terrified, in their seats.

"Saber Khai!" yelped Annax. "We felt Abeloth-she is-"

And then all of them fell silent. Except for those who screamed. A wave of pain swept over them; no, not a wave, nothing so weak as that. A tsunami, comprising the anguish and fear and physical torment of thousands of beings.

It was both nauseating and delicious. Khai had never experienced anything like this. Fighting to keep his eyes opened, he stared at the viewscreen. A moment earlier it had shown Tahv, quiet, peaceful, outlined by the normal lights of a city at sleep. Now flames were engulfing some areas of the city and- "Melting," he murmured. Abeloth was melting the city. He shook himself quickly. Recovering his composure, he snapped, "What's the status of the landing area north of Tahv?"

Her fingers flew. "Some damage, but ..."

He knew without being told. Those ships that were still functional were going to attack the frigates, believing they had sided with Abeloth.

Had they?

"They're taking off," he said. "Evasive action. Where's Ship?"

He felt it, cold, focused. Abeloth is safe. We must depart immediately, Ship said.

Khai hesitated. He knew he stood at a crossroads. He could choose to be a proud and loyal member of the Lost Tribe of the Sith-what he had been all his life. He could side with Grand Lord Vol, defend his world, his culture ... his wife. He could order the fleet to turn on Abeloth right now. All of them together might possibly be able to destroy Ship. Whether it would destroy Abeloth was a complete, and terrifying, unknown. Or they could depart, firing as they went, and cast their lot in with her.

"Sir?" prodded Annax. "They're close to being within firing range. The other frigates are demanding orders. What do you wish us to do?"

He made his choice.

We will come, he thought, and felt Ship agree.

Follow me. Then the strange construct that was Ship withdrew from his mind, and Khai felt suddenly empty.

"Shields up. We stand with Abeloth," he said. "Ship-"

"-is sending coordinates," blurted Annax as numbers crawled over her screen.

"Follow them! Tell all vessels to retreat!"

The Black Wave suddenly rocked as she was fired upon. Khai glanced at the small screen in the captain's chair and saw two small blips representing ChaseMaster frigates flare, and then vanish.

"Return fire!" he ordered. At once the frigate dived, firing, and Khai had the satisfaction of seeing one of the attacking vessels blown into small bits. His faint smile faded somewhat. Who had been in that vessel? Someone he knew, doubtless; there were not so many Sith in the Lost Tribe fleet that he would not at least recognize the name.

They were the enemy now. He closed the door on any regret he might have felt, however fleeting. "Attention, Abeloth's fleet," he said, and there was no going back from that statement. "We are under attack by the Lost Tribe of the Sith. Coordinates to our next destination have been downloaded to each of your vessels. We will rendezvous there. Any vessel that does not retreat to those coordinates, and does not immediately attack those from Kesh who have now chosen to become our adversaries, will be deemed a traitor and fired upon accordingly."

He closed the channel. "Tola, is everyone changing course?"

"Negative, sir, the Dark Dancer is still stationary."

"Hail them." She did so. "Black Wave to Dark Dancer, why are you not moving to the coordinates I have given you?"

Silence.

"Destroy it," Khai ordered. "They have chosen poorly."

She glanced up at him. "Sir, the Dark Dancer suffered a hit. They may not be choosing to disobey. The damage could have rendered them unable to move, or affected their communications systems."

"Then that is their bad fortune, and the Force is not with them this day," Khai replied. "I cannot take the risk of anyone under my command turning against us. Obey my order, Annax, or else I may deem you a traitor, as well."

Her eyes widened slightly, then she squared her broad shoulders.

"Yes, Captain."

Gavar Khai watched, cold and unflinching, as the Dark Dancer went from being an intact, if damaged, vessel, to being nothing more than flotsam, jetsam, and pieces of once-living flesh.

The ship rocked again. "Annax, make that jump to hypers.p.a.ce," Khai growled.

"Trying, sir, but I-"

"Do not try. Do it."

Her fingers flew. A third explosion made the Black Wave tremble, and he could see the console light up with reports of casualties from all over the ship.

And then, blessedly, the white p.r.i.c.ks of light that were stars stretched out, elongated into lines, and they were gone.

GAVAR KHAI SAGGED AGAINST THE BACK OF THE COMMAND CHAIR, closing his eyes for a moment.

They had escaped. He winced slightly as he realized he had used the word to describe leaving his homeworld-the place that had birthed and trained him.

"Saber Khai?"

He didn't answer Tola Annax at once, as another realization shook him to his core. He would never become a Lord now. He had just severed all ties to everything he had ever known, and he was now a traitor. He swallowed, reaching into the Force to compose himself and find some measure of calm.

"Yes, Annax?"

"We won't be able to go back, will we?" Her normally sharp eyes were distant, her broad shoulders set, as if she were already carving out her future actions.

"No, we will not," he said, as if he himself had not wrestled with the same feelings that were now clearly occupying Tola. "We have made our choice. We were sent to subdue Abeloth, but she has proven too strong for us. We returned to Kesh in good faith. Lord Vol decided to attack Abeloth alone, for whatever reason, and failed. When we left with her, we sealed our fate. Are you having second thoughts?"

That got her attention, and she snapped out of her reverie with a little start. "No, sir, of course not, sir!"

It was too quick a reply to be sincere. Khai knew, as he knew Tola Annax knew, that the word from the Tribe was that Abeloth had attacked Vol. But he decided to turn the ident.i.ty of the aggressor around. Better for his crew to think that Vol had violated the agreement and suffered for it, while the innocent Abeloth moved on to greater things. Better to think they had chosen rightly, because even if anyone felt they had not, there was nothing to be done now. The fabled City of Gla.s.s lay in molten ruins, its Grand Lord crippled, though not killed. Nothing, no abas.e.m.e.nt, no apology, nothing could return anyone in this fleet to favor in the Lost Tribe.

Ever.

He felt a faint brush of approval in the back of his mind-Abeloth sanctioned the revision of history.

"The true essence of the Lost Tribe will be preserved," Khai said. "And as allies of Abeloth, we are much closer to achieving our destiny of ruling this galaxy."

"Of course, sir. I am in complete agreement with you. Sometimes, the useless chaff must be forced away if the seed is to grow."

Annax's voice was sincere and strong. Khai didn't believe her for a moment.

"What now, sir?"

Khai realized he didn't know, but he had to take action, some kind, any kind, or else he would be deemed weak by his own second in command.

"Hail Ship and tell him I would speak with our mistress in my quarters," he said firmly. It was the first time he had used the term, but it felt appropriate. Abeloth needed to believe that all of them were on her side. Of course, all of them were. They had to be. And even as he rationalized it coldly, Khai found himself glad of the events. There was something ... pure about Abeloth, purer than the elaborate masques and traditions of the Lost Tribe. This was no glamour, no false dazzlement he was experiencing. He had seen Abeloth at her best and worst, had fought against her and with her. He would never have imagined events would turn this way but ... he was not unhappy that they had.

Annax nodded brusquely, her fingers flying as she went about her task.

Khai opened his mind to the Force, calmly content in his thoughts, so that Abeloth would sense him immediately and know the gist of his intentions. She was, of course, ensconced in Ship once more, cradled in its strange embrace while she healed.

He felt her mental touch immediately upon entering his quarters, even before he heard her voice over the comm. It was, as before, strangely slurred.

"You wish to know my plans," she said.

"As much as you care to share with me, that I may best serve you."

He felt tired humor from her. "So, you are firmly on my side now, are you not?"

"You know I am. Any bridges that I once had are surely well and truly burned."

"Good. You will not be a Lord of the Lost Tribe, Gavar Khai. You will be something greater. Something infinitely more important. I need someone by my side I can trust."

"I would be that being, Mistress."

"Your ambition pleases me. See that your wisdom is as true, and there is nothing we cannot accomplish."

"The Lost Tribe thought too small," Khai said. "I can see that now." It wasn't the complete truth, but it was true enough so that he could believe the words as he spoke them. "You are far greater than anything Lord Vol could become, and I am not a fool, to blindly follow a leader simply because I have always done so."

"You are right in your expanding vision," she said. "And you are smarter than Taalon. You see without having to be altered."

Despite himself, Khai shuddered.

"My path-I am not sure. It is possible that your daughter has revealed the location of Kesh to the Skywalkers by now."

Khai shifted uneasily. "I still do not believe my daughter is a traitor," he said.

"Be that as it may, it is possible," Abeloth said, a touch sternly. "Do not attempt to lie to me and deny that."

"I ... cannot," Khai said simply.

"And having allied with the Skywalkers before, the Lost Tribe, with so-called Grand Lord Vol smarting from his defeat, might attempt to do so again. We must not allow ourselves to be traced. I ... need time to recover, and to decide the next course of action. Lead them on a merry chase, Gavar Khai."

"I shall do so," he said. He thought about how such an order would be received. Tola Annax would enjoy it, at least. Despite her eccentricities, there was a sense of play about her. Annax would be amused at the thought of leading a Sith fleet to random places, simply on a whim, if only so she could occupy herself with pondering what might happen, and how best to counteract anything negative. Amus.e.m.e.nt was a good thing for morale, he thought. Soon enough, Abeloth would recover. Khai took a breath to speak, then paused.

"What is it?"

"If I may be so bold ... what are your plans concerning the Jedi queen?" he asked. "Might not that be our next step? Our initial attempt to a.s.sa.s.sinate Tenel Ka did not meet with success, this is true, but we are closer than we have been at establishing the true ident.i.ty of this female. Perhaps we could continue to-"

"No." It was a flat, firm, almost sullen response, and brooked no argument. "That pursuit is of the past. That was Sarasu Taalon's fantasy and fear, and it need not concern us now."

Khai knew when he had been put in his place, but some instinct prompted him to protest. "But surely, a Jedi queen would-"

"A moment ago, you accused the Lost Tribe of thinking too small," Abeloth said tartly. "You are in danger of tumbling back into that way of thinking, Khai. It is easy and comfortable and familiar, but it will not get you what you crave. When my plans are finally put into motion, if there is indeed a Jedi queen still alive, she will be as a small buzzing insect compared with the power and greatness I shall wield."

Khai's heart suddenly skipped a beat. He could almost feel his mind opening. He was awash in sudden joy and fear and awe, and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. How unspeakably audacious he and the other Sith had been, to think of taming and breaking Abeloth. If she thought of this powerful Jedi queen that Taalon had been so adamant about destroying as little more than a buzzing insect, what had she thought of them? Of him? She could destroy him with a thought. And yet, she needed them ... wished them ... him ... to be a part of her inevitable triumph.

And it was inevitable, he realized. Overcome with this revelation, he sat down hard on the bed and, with an effort, reined in his emotions.

He knew she knew all that he was feeling. And yet, she chose to move forward with the conversation courteously, as if his revelation had not happened.