Theocracy of the Unwilling

Chapter 3, Part III

If ghosts could be impatient, Nilani would epitomize that concept. Beneath the nave of the cathedral lay the network of tunnels that comprised the crypt: not only did the Church of Infinite Perception store their dead there, but held their meetings there as well. After her announcement of a new enemy for the Church to "purge," the Preceptor had gathered his officials and held an impromptu meeting on the topic, leaving two thuggish brutes standing guard over Nilani, armed with serviceable blaster rifles, just outside the chambers. The so-called Ghost Lady wore a facade of detachment, trying to show her guards that she was willing to wait out the Church elders as long as she needed to.

After three hours of trying to look bored in the dusty, stale corridor, Nilani was nearly ready to abandon her plan when the door to the meeting room swung open, the oxygenated hinges breaking the silence with a loud creak.

"You are welcome into the Preceptor's chambers," a dry voice wheezed out into the dark hallway. "We have many things to discuss."

Striding confidently into the room, Nilani crinkled her nose, barely able to disguise the disgust she felt at the state of the room. The elders all wore the same dirty, unwashed robes, all sporting similar gray-streaked beards, as if they were all locked in a vain contest to appear the poster child of abject humility. Given the intimidation and clout wielded by the Church of Infinite Perception on Pergitor, however, it was likely a point of survival to appear the most devout of the group.

Taking the only empty seat in the room, which was placed at a small table before the semi-circle of Church elders, the pale woman locked eyes with the Preceptor, upon whom she had attempted to impress a willingness to serve earlier. Her gaze slid past the aging overseer for a moment, taking in the large, ornate doors behind the elders, before snapping back to the Preceptor's blue orbs.

"I certainly hope you've given thought to my request and information, Preceptor," Nilani began, her clear voice ringing out in the stale, recycled air of the dark chamber. "The Yridia system is in dire need of a strong hand to help rid themselves of the... unnatural dictatorship that currently plagues them."

As Nilani finished her sentence, however, the aging Preceptor let out a bark, his sharp, derisive laughter cutting through the stillness. "Young girl, we've been planning this for some time." The Preceptor ran his fingers through his pliant beard thoughtfully, as if considering something before continuing. "You do provide a source of information, however, and I feel that you may have saved some lives by arming us with an update on their current defenses and political standing."

Slowly rising to his feet, the Preceptor gestured for Nilani to follow him, with the easy manner of someone used to being obeyed. As she made her way to the back of the chamber, two junior members of the Church moved to the ornate doors, grasping the large, decorative handles and tugging hard. With another earth-groaning creak, the enormous doors drifted open, and Nelani heard a sharp intake of breath. It wasn't until the Preceptor placed a gnarled hand on her shoulder until she realized it was her breath being held.

"That's yorik coral if I ever saw it," she muttered, glancing back to the Preceptor.

"You wished to introduce us to Tarentum, girl," began the Preceptor, chuckling darkly. "Allow me to introduce you to our new gods."

From the darkness of the Vongformed vault came four figures, all of them easily topping two meters in height, rippling with tattoos, scars, and muscle. The Preceptor stood in awe, watching the four Yuuzhan Vong warriors size up the newcomer.

"These four are our gods! They are perfect beings, every one! Not even the filthy supernatural powers of the Jedi could stand up to them! Tarentum will be ours!'

With the proclamation of imminent victory, the powerful Yuuzhan Vong pounded their chests, the largest of them proclaiming loudly, "Do-ro'ik vong pratte!"

Shaking her head, Nilani could only wonder whether it could have been any easier to orchestrate the downfall of Clan Tarentum.