Star Wars - Lost Tribe of the Sith 04 - Savior

conspirators merely tending their uvak would, instead, take to the air with them, leaving none behind.
    There wouldn’t be riders enough, but that didn’t matter. While not natural herd animals, even unbroken uvak were strongly suggestible to the booming bleats of elder males—the exact sort the Neshtovar tended. Stories had been passed down of aerial roundups overthe centuries, with riders leading clouds of the reptiles through the sky. Adari’s would be a rolling storm front, sweeping up all the animals in the countryside in vast, successive waves. They’d crafted their routes to funnel every uvak that wasn’t tied down toward the Sessal Spire, looming ahead in its smoldering majesty.
    Here, safely away from the crater, the lead riders would set their beasts down just long enough to dismount. Remaining aloft, Adari would order Nink to give a nesting cry: a powerful command compelling all uvak within earshot to immediately follow. At forty, pampered Nink was the oldest uvak in memory. All uvak would blindly heed his command—briefly. But long enough, Adari figured, for her to soar into the clouds high above the smoking crater—and disappear.
    It wouldn’t be suicide. It would be deliverance.
    The Sith had traveled far on uvak-back, but the Neshtovar were the recipients of generations of knowledge of the air currents of Kesh. They knew the odd things the jet stream did when the Sessal Spire acted up. Riders flying high enough simply vanished, hurtling beyond the morning horizon, far over the great eastern sea. She would climb high—and the wind would claim her and any uvak that followed.
    Despite her initial dislike of uvak, she winced at the thought of what would follow. The frantic flock would struggle against the vortex, but at such an elevation, Kesh was in command. Perhaps a similar phenomenon had disabled the Sith vessel; Adari didn’t know. But by the time the winds weakened, she—and every uvak she could convince to follow—would be headed for a watery end.
Just like my husband
, she mused.
    Her co-conspirators loved their uvak, but they hated the Sith more. They had often discussed what would happen next. The Sith leaders would descend on their service path, but it would take time—time duringwhich Adari’s allies would strike at the major Sith sympathizers in each village. There would be no open resistance. It would be shikkar blades in the night. The Sith might be proud.
    In truth, of course, the Sith would lash out. Tahv would surely feel their wrath. But the Sith would be running their pogrom on foot. Their transportation would be gone from the map—literally. And the Keshiri would find it easier to kill the remaining stray uvak than Sith.
    The Sith now had young of their own to protect; they might simply stake out a chunk of territory for themselves and leave it at that. Or, better still, they might retire to their mountain refuge for good. Most Keshiri still idolized their Protectors—but as long as some of them were willing to poison their masters, they would forever be a danger.
    Presuming poison killed the Sith at all. Adari had never really shared her confederates’ enthusiasm about the aftermath. She knew what the Sith were capable of. It might take a thousand Keshiri to kill a single one. But even if it did? Right now, the odds still favored the Keshiri. They wouldn’t later on.
Which is why this has to be today
, she thought.
    Kesh teemed with life. That one of its species would pay a price for its usefulness was tragic. But the Keshiri had already paid a price for their own usefulness to the Sith. Both had to end.
    Her group merging with the fliers from the east, Adari whipped Nink around and looked in the direction of Tahv. That would be the big wave.
    When it arrived.
    Where
were
they?
    Seelah dashed across the rooftop of her old home. For half her life, she’d awakened to the same view ofthe sea that had swallowed Devore. Now, looking down, she saw her forces closing in on the man who’d sent him there.
    She hadn’t seen how, but Korsin and Gloyd had gotten separated. The lumbering Houk was still alive, she knew—her loyal aides had chased him into another part of the complex. But Korsin was the key. He’d chosen his bodyguards well. Two remained alive, injured but effective in their misguided defense.
    Jariad’s team of Sabers, meanwhile, had proven lacking in formal training. He’d insisted on being their only mentor, but had only begun serious combat training in