Yes, I know this is early, but I am stuck in the most boring place on earth so I thought I would make a post to amuse myself ;)
Here is chapter three of my fic - Dying for your approval.
If you are new to this fic, the other two chapters can be found in my blog-history under similar titles.
If you do read, please review, comments and feedback keep me writing :)

Now:

The image formed by the leathery pod of a villip, was that of someone who looked less than sleep shaken. This far into the sleep cycle for the worldship in question, Tsavong Lah had expected no less. But nor did he apologize for waking the haggard and ancient looking Yuuzhan Vong portrayed before him, even if the visage was that of his fathers. Tsavong Lah was the warmaster, and as such answered to few.

Czulkang Lah blinked a few times, as though to purge the remainder of sleep from his weary eyes. A weakness, Tsavong Lah noted, his father would never have shown in his glory days.

"Belek tiu." The villip conveyed the former warmaster's voice near perfect, harsh, but whispery as though he had inhaled a lung full of ash.

"The news has reached your ears?" Tsavong Lah intoned, quick to dispense with the usual protocol that went hand in hand with communications.

The villip's newly formed features inclined slightly, indicating a nod.
"Indeed, the loss of your son weighs heavy on the warriors of domain Lah, many placed their faith in him."

Czulkang Lah cut the sentence short, as though he had wanted to say more on the matter, but to do so would have been a fatal error on his part. Instead he added, "There is discontented chaos in the ranks, with regards as to who shall take his place. His loss, while honourable, has not been good for morale."

Tsavong Lah allowed a slight snarl to creep into his tone, "The Gods granted him an honourable death, you said so yourself, these warriors can only hope for the same when their time comes. Their morale should not be in question!"
To question this was to question the gods themselves in his opinion.

Czulkang Lah was sure to keep his voice from wavering upon responding, "Of course. Any such concerns have been dealt with swiftly." He neglected to add efficiently.

An awkward silence descended upon them, during which Czulkang Lah appeared to be observing his son as he would one of his students. Despite having been succeeded by his son, Czulkang Lah had bore little in the way of ill will toward Tsavong Lah. However, he may have grown to resent the fact that instead of besting him in battle - as would have been appropriate to attain the rank of warmaster- Shimrra had merely granted Tsavong Lah the advancement in light of his willingness to take the battle to the infidel galaxy, leaving the fate of Czulkang Lah entirely up to the now former warmaster's son.
Tsavong Lah had taken the decision not to end his father's life, nor did he keep him in the battle field, perhaps for fear of rivalry? The elderly Yuuzhan Vong would never be sure.

Tsavong Lah, had instead, made him a teacher of warriors, deeming his knowledge of battle too valuable to waste. Czulkang Lah despised this most of all, it was like a daily torment unrelinished, to be confronted with the theories of what you would rather be a part of.
But what sickened him more, was why Tsavong Lah had done this. It was an excuse, an insult to be asked not to die. It was his right! Yet Czulkang had taken it upon himself to do what was asked of him, though he would never forget the look he had seen in his son?s eyes the day he had made that decision. It was like a coufee to the gut.
That was exactly the reason he recognised it now. Now he wished he had been harder on his own sons. A mistake he had been sure to try to correct with-

"Something troubles you, speak." Tsavong Lah cut short his fathers thoughts, his words a double edged blade.

"Perhaps it is I who should be asking you that question?" He did not give the warmaster a chance to respond, "
You reiterate the point that Khalee died with honour, that it was the will of the gods, yet you contacted me to tell me something you yourself already know? I think not."

Tsavong Lah felt his blood begin to boil at the audacity of his fathers outspoken words. The blue-shade of his eye sacs darkened to such a degree, the receiver villip could not have failed to pick it up. Eyes narrowing to darkened slits, Tsavong Lah growled out a low question,
"What are you suggesting?"

His father appeared, for all intense purposes, unfazed by his son?s blatant display of displeasure and continued to explain,
"I suggest that perhaps you do not fully believe your son died as reported. That you are seeking something that cannot be found within the truth as you claim to know it now."

Czulkang Lah had expected an outburst of denial, perhaps several threats. But he was surprised pleasantly, when for once, his son seemed to consider his words.

"It is true that I seek to embrace a pain I cannot fully understand, but for the reasons you are suggesting?" Tsavong Lah finally voiced, some of the colour draining from his fleshy eye sacs.

"Was it not a priest of the deception sect that Khalee Lah was sent to accompany? Was it not also the same priest who delivered the news of his death?" The elderly, gnarled Yuuzhan Vong furnished, upon seeing his son's thoughtful gaze.

The warmaster took note of this suggestion, Harrar had always been considered a close friend of his. They had known each other since their youthful days just beyond the creche, and Tsavong Lah had considered the priest of Yun-Harla one of the few people he could actually trust at one time. Therein lay the irony however, he was a priest of the 'deception' sect and he had trusted Harrar with the life of his own son. He had trusted that the priest could perhaps help curb the youth's rather over-exuberant need to take action first without due planning or tactics.
The trickster goddess was often held in high regard along with Yun-Yammka, the slayer. It had seemed like an ideal solution to a growing problem. And yet Harrar had failed in that task. But this?

Tsavong Lah remembered well how calmly the priest had told him the news, but he knew better, he had suspected a lie but had wished not to acknowledge it at the time. He also knew his son Khalee.
If this was the case, Khalee's death would be like a stain upon it's name, to be forever tarnished like those of domain Shai!

This fact cut like an amphistaff through flesh, and the warmaster's recent radank claw graft ached anew as if symbolically. Even now the fate of that limb still hung precariously in the balance.

"No, it was as reported, I know the actions of this priest too well. I would have suspected something." Tsavong Lah responded rather suddenly as a decision formulated it's self in the depths of his mind.

Czulkang Lah seemed uncertain though, but offered reassurance regardless, "Very well, then let not your son's death haunt you. The pain from this experience is a pain embraced over time, perhaps sooner, when you bring the twin Solo's before the gods."

Anger, fresh and raw, burned in the warmaster's eyes at the mention of the twins.
"It shall be so."

Their conversation was brought to an abrupt end there, but neither party resented the other for it.
Tsavong Lah's blatant lie had been to protect his domain, he told himself. The gods may frown upon this, but he was also certain Yun-Harla would smile in his favour as the details of his thoughts would soon become apparent. However, if he was wrong? No, he could not be.
The plot thickened it seemed, and he found himself with more than one question now. With these answered he would put this pain to rest once and for all.

******
Then:

"He is both insolent and foolish, he cares not for the lessons I attempt to teach him, he questions where others know to leave well enough alone!"
Czulkang Lah's voice echoed off the walls of his personal chambers, reverberating off it's every jagged surface making his anger, saturated tones sound all the more menacing.

Before the aging Yuuzhan Vong, his son, Tsavong Lah, fought to keep his expression neutral. The subject of course, referred to Khalee Lah, now of 17 years of age and every bit the fist-full of trouble his father had been it seemed. If not worse.

"He has shown great skill and courage during his training, you said this also." Tsavong Lah offered in defence, despite what his better judgement was telling him.

The elder warmaster actually scoffed at that, drawing out a low growl of disappointment as he did so,
"You speak of courage?" Czulkang Lah mocked, "Rage driven fool-hardiness should never be mistaken for courage. You of all people should remember that lesson!"

And remember it Tsavong Lah did, the small pit-like scars to his shoulders were a testament to that much, inflicted by his own father's tsaisi baton. It did not make this any easier to listen to however, only adding to a plethora or disappointment that he reserved for his own son, Khalee.

He had thought that handing the young warrior over to the warmaster had been a good ploy. It had worked for him after all. Yet if the stirrings in the supreme overlord's court were correct, soon Czulkang Lah could find himself on the raw end of a major decision. Tsavong Lah could not have that, he would not see such useful knowledge wasted if his father was demoted as warmaster. He valued him far too much to let him return to the gods just yet.

"Rage caused by devotion to the cause is one thing, but it must be controlled or it will lead to an ignoble death, it will blind him to all else and be his end." Czulkang Lah was saying.

Tsavong Lah could see the logic in that, but to him, rage was more than a useful too, something he was reluctant to abandon and something he felt rise within him now,

"Are you saying that he is a lost cause? Are you aban-"

Tsavong Lah was cut short by a short, sharp bark from his father,

"You may be my son but you are also my subordinate! Do not think that you are beyond my wrath nor can you presume to know my mind!"

Within an instant Tsavong Lah had prostrated himself on the ground, forehead pressed firmly against the bone-coloured yorik coral floor.
"Belek tiu!" He uttered as fast as he could think it.

For what seemed like several painful cycles, he half expected his father to end his life here and now for his foolish outburst. But a fatal blow never landed. Instead he felt the raw sting of the tsaisi's tail, whip across his back, leaving a fine - yet deep - line of welling black in it's wake.

"On your feet, I have proven my point sufficiently enough."

Tsavong Lah obeyed, rising, but he did not speak. He feared that was perhaps the wisest move. His father's glare was like a whipsting upon him, and he was careful to break the challenging glare first. Though he did not like it one bit.
As suspected, Czulkang Lah nodded once in approval. So his son knew his place then?

Once the warmaster was content in the fact there would be no further outbursts, he continued,
"For your son to progress further, he will have to learn to keep a firm hold of his eagerness to engage. This may come with time as it did you to a certain extent, but it also has the potential to lead him to a fool's death." The warmaster paused, "Time, I fear, we do not have."

Tsavong Lah was still deeply outraged, more so at this addition to his fathers original statement. But to voice this outrage would be folly, that was all he needed, to give Czulkang another reason to bat him down as he would a crecheling. Hardly the example of one who would advance as he wished. Despite the burning desire to display his anger, Tsavong Lah did respect his father's words.

If this was what the warmaster decided Khalee Lah needed in order for him to progress, then this was what he needed. Perhaps then, he knew of the perfect calming influence without straying from the doctrine of the true way? If this did not work, Tsavong Lah felt he would forever be left to languish in the disappointment his son seemed to cause him. If this were so, to this he could see no end.

TBC

Edit: 12/3/08

I've updated my pictures with a new piece of art :)