Star Wars : New Jedi Order

Force Heretic III : Reunion

by Sean Willians & Shane Dix

Reunion

The New Jedi Order faces triumph and disaster as  the  Galactic  Alliance

battles back from the edge of defeat...

"Beware, Jedi Master, lest through carelessness and inattention you loose

on the galaxy a monster..."

- BODO BASS, Jedi Master

PROLOGUE

Neither moved; neither spoke. They stared unflinchingly into each other's

eyes.

Surrounding  her,  hidden  by  shadows,  Tahiri  could  sense  an   alien

landscape. She could tell from its pull that it was big, yet at the same  time

not large enough to contain the two of them. She wanted to look down  and  see

it, to understand this strange and  disturbing  ambiguity,  but  she  couldn't

afford to do so, not even for a second-for a second was all it would  take  to

lose her purchase on this precarious balance of power. One blink of an eye and

she could be dispelled into the darkness altogether, never to  return-and  she

had no intention of ever allowing that to happen. This world was hers, and she

would remain like this for as long as it took to ensure that it  stayed  hers.

It was just a matter of time. All she had to do was be patient, be strong.

Soon, she told herself. It will all be over soon. Just another moment...

But that moment seemed as long as the blackness around her was  deep.  It

was a moment that stretched back to the explosion that had first  given  birth

to the universe, and forward to the time when eternity would turn all the suns

cold. It didn't matter, though. She would endure a thousand  such  moments  to

ensure that the world below did not fall to Riina.

Yes, that was it. Riina: the other girl's name.  She  wanted  to  destroy

Tahiri and take the world from her Tahiri could feel the girl's intentions  as

though they were her own.

I will not succumb, she thought determinedly. I am Tahiri Veila; I  am  a

Jedi Knight!

And I am Riina of Domain Kwaad, the girl said in response.  I  shall  not

succumb, either.

With that, Tahiri's mirror image finally moved: her hand went to her side

and removed the lightsaber from her belt.

A lightsaber, Tahiri thought, not an amphistaff. Riina wanted  everything

she had, and she fought with everything Tahiri had, too.

The light from the blade revealed something of their surroundings. To one

side there was a dry and rocky ground that stretched out forever, and  to  the

other there was a chasm of terrible blackness, an  emptiness  that  pulled  at

Tahiri, drew her to the edge of the precipice upon which she stood. She  could

tell from Riina's fearful gaze that this same emptiness was  tugging  at  her,

also. One wrong move and either of them could fall into an embrace of  eternal

nothingness, leaving the darkened world to the other.

The notion renewed her resolve, and with a snap and a  hiss  that  echoed

throughout the landscape she activated her own lightsaber.

The two advanced slowly toward one another until the two bubbles of light

from their lightsabers touched and they were standing face to face.  Then,  in

unison, the two blades rose into the air and came down sharply at the  other's

head. They connected in midair with a deadly crackle,  sending  sparks  arcing

into the darkness...

PART ONE

INFILTRATION

Han Solo fought the urge to wipe  a  droplet  of  sweat  from  his  brow,

knowing that such a gesture would be seen as a sign of nervousness,  and  thus

give the others a clue as to what he was holding.

"What's it to be, Solo?"

Han went for a stall, his second in as many minutes.  "Let  me  get  this

straight. It wasn't enough that you guys got tired of using  integers-or  that

you weren't satisfied with just using real numbers, either. You had  to  start

messing with imaginary and transreal numbers as well."

The larval-stage Ruurian bounty hunter's face was locked in a sneer.  "Do

you have a problem with that?"

"Why should there be a problem?"

"Then get on with it!"

One corner of Han's mouth curled up into a half grin. His opponents  were

starting to lose their patience. That could work to his advantage.

"So you're saying that we can use any arithmetic operation  we  like.  We

can divide, subtract, multiply-"

"I know what you're doing," growled a bad-tempered  Givin,  its  skeletal

jaw  clicking  impatiently  against  its  upper  "lip."  Given  its   species'

predilection for mathematics, Han imagined that  it  was  the  Givin  who  was

responsible for the changed rules. "You can't bluff us, Solo."

"Perhaps the great Han Solo has lost his edge." The

fourth player, Talien, a Yarkora with numerous gold rings  dangling  from

each enormous nostril, uttered a contemptuous snort.

Han glanced down at the chip-cards in his hand.  "Or  perhaps  it's  just

that my math is a little rusty."

He laid the  cards  on  the  table,  resigning  himself  to  winning  the

strangest game of sabacc he'd ever played. The three 3V23 chips that the  last

round had dealt him stared up at the ceiling in staves, flasks, and coins. His

decision to ditch the idiot card and take a chance on fate had paid off.

"Read 'em and weep," Han said, leaning back into his chair. "Or  whatever

it is you guys do around here."

"A cubic sabacc?" The Ruurian's red eyes  glittered  dangerously  in  the

bar's dim and smoky light as it glared at Han. "That's not possible!"

"It's not impossible," the Givin snarled. "Just extremely unlikely."

"Solo, if you're taking us for a ride, I swear-" the Yarkora began.

"Hey!" Han exclaimed, standing up  and  stabbing  a  finger  at  Talien's

enormous nose. "You scanned me on the way in. If I'd  had  a  skifter  on  me,

you'd've known about it."

The Givin's bony mouthplates ground together in frustration. "Skifter  or

no skifter, Solo, I still say it's safer to believe in human nature  than  the

kind of luck you're claiming."

"Come off it, Ren. You're saying I cheated in a game I didn't  even  know

existed until I docked here a couple of  days  ago?"  He  snorted  derisively.

"You're giving me a lot more credit than I deserve."

"That's all the credit you'll be getting," the Ruurian muttered, reaching

forward with one of its many arms to scoop up the chips.

Han grabbed the junction between the alien's two uppermost body parts and

twisted sharply-not enough to do any damage, but certainly enough to make  the

Ruurian think twice. "You touch my winnings, and then you'll see just how much

of my edge I've lost."

Chairs scraped across the stony floor as the  other  two  players  backed

away from the sabacc table. Shouts sounded in a dozen different tongues around

the room. The Thorny Toe maintained  a  strict  no-weapons  policy,  but  that

didn't mean that fights couldn't be lethal. And as far as the patrons  of  the

Thorny Toe were concerned, the more violent the altercation,  the  better  the

entertainment value.

"Overrated muck hauler!" the Ruurian grunted, wriggling its lengthy  body

in an attempt get free. Han struggled to hang  on,  while  at  the  same  time

trying to keep the alien at arm's length. Each of the Ruurian's body  segments

possessed a set of limbs that clutched at him with hostile intent.

"Who you calling overrated?" Han muttered, tightening his grip.  Although

low in mass, the alien could bend in places Han couldn't, making it  difficult

to maintain the upper hand. The Ruurian hitched its back end under  the  table

and managed to tip him off balance. As he  went  down,  a  dozen  sharp-tipped

digits swarmed up his legs and chest, looking for  soft  spots.  Tiny,  razor-

sharp mandibles snapped  at  his  nose.  The  audience  cheered,  goading  the

antagonists on.

Just as he was beginning to think  he'd  taken  on  more  than  he  could

handle, two rough, three-fingered hands grabbed  both  him  and  the  Ruurian,

hauling them off the ground and separating them in midair.

"Enough!"

Han recognized the guttural accent of  a  Whiphid  and  instantly  ceased

trying to kick his way out of the creature's grasp. He  knew  better  than  to

fight a Whiphid. Their claw and tusks were as mean as their temperament.

"He's a cheat!" the Ruurian whined,  snapping  at  Han  with  its  nether

mandibles.

The Whiphid shook the alien so hard Han swore he  heard  its  exoskeleton

rattle. "This bar isn't crooked!"

"That's what I've been trying to tell them," Han said, offering  a  self-

satisfied smirk. "I beat them fair and square!"

The Whiphid dropped them both roughly to the floor, then pointed  one  of

its claws accusingly at Han. "The boss wants to see you."

A flash of uncertainty cooled any  joy  he  might  have  taken  from  the

victory.

"Not before I collect my winnings," he said, climbing  to  his  feet.  He

stepped resolutely to the table.

"You have five standard seconds," the bouncer said.

Han needed only two. Using his  shirt  as  a  catchall,  he  scooped  the

credits off the table. The Ruurian looked on balefully, emitting a soft  growl

that only those in its immediate vicinity would have heard.

"You know, Talien, folks like you give sabacc players a  bad  name."  Han

couldn't resist taking the opportunity to gloat  as  he  packed  his  winnings

safely in his pockets. "Back in my day-"

"Spare us the glory speech." Talien made no  attempt  to  stop  Han  from

walking off with the winnings, but glared at him menacingly. "Save it for your

kids. Maybe they'll be impressed by the once-great Han Solo."

"Why, you-" Unreasoning anger rose in him, but before he could react, the

bouncer caught him by the back of his jacket and tugged him away.

"Enough, I said!" The Whiphid lifted Han into the air again as though  he

were a child. Suspended, helpless, Han could only force  his  anger  down  and

ignore the jeers of the other patrons as  he  was  unceremoniously  "escorted"

from the bar.

"You humans are always causing trouble," the Whiphid grumbled once they'd

passed through a door to the back of the Thorny Toe and Han had  been  lowered

to the ground once more. "If I had a credit for every time I've bounced one of

you out of here, I'd have made it back to Toola years ago."

"You see many strangers through here, then?" Han asked, straightening his

jacket.

The Whiphid looked at him suspiciously. "Why? You looking for someone?"

"No; just curious." He shut up,  then,  not  wanting  to  draw  any  more

attention to himself than he already had.

The alien took him up a flight of stairs and deposited him  in  an  empty

room containing little more than a padded green couch and a  water  dispenser.

Han assumed it was an antechamber adjoining the bar  owner's  office.  He  sat

himself down on the couch and was startled when a voice issued into  the  room

from unseen speakers.

"Han Solo, eh?"  The  voice's  sex,  species,  and  accent  were  heavily

disguised, but the speaker seemed amused underneath the camouflage. "You're  a

long way from home."

"Well, you know me," Han bluffed. "Never been one to sit on my hands."

A strange noise issued from the hidden speakers. It  might  have  been  a

laugh. "But you've always been one for gambling,"  the  voice  returned,  more

soberly. "It's good to see that nothing's changed."

Han frowned at the familiarity. He desperately tried to think whom he had

known in the past who might have ended up owning a bar on Onadax, one  of  the

dingiest worlds the Minos Cluster had to offer, and whether he - or  she-might

hold a grudge against him.

"You get your thrills where you can," he said, stalling again.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions, if I may."

Han shrugged, giving in but feigning  nonchalance  all  the  same.  "Fire

away."

"Who sent you?"

"No one sent me."

"Why are you here?"

"I'm just passing through. Is that a crime in these parts?"

"Where are you headed?"

"Nelfrus, in the Elrood sector."

"You must be going the long way around, then."

"You can't be too careful these days. The Vong-

"Are everywhere," the voice interrupted. "Yes, I know.  But  they're  not

here."

"Which is why I thought I'd come this way."

After a slight pause, the voice continued: "Are you here alone? "

"What difference does that make?"

"Perhaps none. Millennium Falcon has been on Onadax  two  standard  days,

one day longer than a Galactic Alliance frigate that docked here yesterday. Am

I to assume that there is no relation between this craft and your own?"

"You can assume what you like," Han said. "But that frigate doesn't  have

anything to do with me. What did you say its name was?"

"I didn't. It's Pride of Selonia."

He made a show of thinking about the name. "Sounds familiar. You think it

might be someone looking for me?"

"Or perhaps the other way around." "I'm just here for the  scenery,"  Han

lied. He jingled the credits in his pocket. "And whatever else I can  pick  up

on the way."

At  this,  the  faceless  bar  owner  did  laugh.  Onadax  was  a  sooty,

inhospitable world, not dense enough to harbor metals  of  any  value,  poorly

placed even with respect to other worlds in the  sector,  and  too  small  and

ancient to possess any noteworthy geography.

Its only saving graces were its  lack  of  a  policing  authority  and  a

relaxed attitude toward documentation of all kinds.

Just because the government turned a blind eye  to  who  passed  through,

though, didn't mean that the locals were stupid.

"Okay," Han said, scanning the blank walls  and  ceiling,  wishing  there

were some reference point on which he could focus his attention.  "Let's  stop

playing games. You're right. I am looking for someone. Maybe you can help me."

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm asking nicely. Do you get many Ryn through here?"

"No more than usual," the voice said. "Lift up  any  dirty  rock  in  the

galaxy and you'll find a family living under it. Your taste  in  friends  must

have gone downhill if that's who you're after."

"Not just any Ryn." Han fumbled, not for the first time,  for  the  right

way to describe the Ryn he was seeking. "Just one that was supposed to meet me

here on Onadax. He hasn't shown, so I'm looking for him."

"In a bar?"

"It's not as if Onadax has much else to offer."

The voice chuckled again. "You're looking in the wrong place, Solo."

"That sounds  suspiciously  like  a  brush-off.  I  swear,  it's  nothing

underhanded."

"From you, those words take on a whole new meaning."

"I'll even pay, if that's what you want."

"If that's what you think I want, then I fear you're  definitely  in  the

wrong place-and at the wrong time."

The Whiphid guarding the door stirred.

"So it would seem," Han said. "Look, I'm racking my brain here trying  to

work out where we've met before. Can't you give me a name to  help  me  out  a

little?"

There was no reply.

"What've you got to lose?" Han said. "You obviously know me-"

He stopped when the Whiphid's clawed hand came down on his back and began

to drag him away. "At least give me a clue!"

The Whiphid hauled him out of the audience chamber and back down  to  the

barroom. Clearly, the interview was over, and no protest from Han was about to

be considered.

"Is he always this friendly?" he asked the bouncer. He amended that to  a

hopeful "She?" when the question wasn't answered.

The Whiphid collected Han in its powerful grasp once  again  and  hoisted

his feet from the floor.

The bouncer forced its way  through  the  crowd.  Laughter  and  applause

followed them, turning to  cries  of  annoyance  as  Han's  head  rammed  into

something's foul-smelling midriff and sent a jug of ale splashing  across  the

floor. Recriminations flew, which the bouncer ignored.

"I think you'll find my seat was  over  that  way,"  Han  said,  pointing

hopefully in the direction of the sabacc table where he'd been playing.

The Whiphid ignored him as well, propping him upright none too gently  at

the door. There was no question that Han was being told-not asked-to leave the

premises.

He smiled, taking a hundred-credit chip from his pocket and  slipping  it

to the alien bouncer.

"For your trouble," he said.

"For yours," was the response as he was forcibly ejected into the street.

"What sort of dive is this, anyway?" Han protested to the closed door  as

he picked himself up and dusted himself  down  once  more.  His  shoulder  was

tender where he'd hit the ground, and the bouncer's claws had left a few tears

in his jacket. Still, it could have been worse. At least he'd made it out with

his winnings.

His comlink buzzed as he limped down the seedy back alley that housed the

Thorny Toe. He pulled the comlink out  of  his  pocket,  knowing  before  he'd

answered the call that it was Leia on the other end.

"You're out?" Her voice was faint, but her concern was obvious.

"And in one piece. The bar staff aren't as tough as their jamming  fields

suggested they might be."

"Did you find anything?"

"Nothing useful, although I'm guessing there's more going  on  here  than

meets the eye."

"There always is." Leia hesitated. "Is that fighting I hear?"

Han glanced behind him. The ruckus inside the bar was getting nastier  by

the second.

"My exit was none too subtle," he said, picking up the pace.

"Start making your way back, then. It's not safe out there, Han."

"On my way now."

"I'd advise against stopping somewhere else en route,  even  if  it  does

allay suspicions."

Han smiled to himself. In the old days, he would've been tempted. But the

choice between Leia and a seedy dive was getting easier every year. "Will do."

The secure channel closed with a soft click. Han's smile ebbed as  behind

him the fight spilled noisily out into the street. He hurriedly  rejoined  the

stream of barhoppers cruising the settlement's main thoroughfare, the grilling

he'd received at the Thorny Toe still nagging at him. That the  owner  of  the

bar had known him didn't bother him so much; after  all,  the  Solo  name  had

spread across the galaxy and back again, especially in the quasi-legal circles

to which he'd once belonged. But the complete stonewalling regarding  the  Ryn

did bother him. His other sources hadn't known anything, but at least they had

been up front about it. Dumb ignorance was totally different to silence.

Han rubbed his shoulder and hurried back to the Falcon, hoping Jaina  had

had better luck on the other side of town.

Luke Skywalker gripped the sides of  his  seat  as  Jade  Shadow  emerged

roughly from  hyperspace.  The  bulkheads  groaned  under  the  strain,  while

containers of stored goods in the passenger bay could be heard crashing to the

floor. Deeper into the ship could be heard the beeping  and  tweetling  of  an

anxious R2-D2.

"What was that?" he asked his wife beside him in the pilot's  seat,  when

the disturbance had passed.

Mara was already flicking switches and checking monitors, giving her ship

a quick once-over. "A hole the size of a Star  Destroyer  just  opened  up  in

front of us."

Every hyperspace jump they'd made in the last couple of  weeks  had  been

fraught with danger and uncertainty. Not even with the detailed  maps  of  the

Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet to guide them could they  account  for  every

hyperspatial anomaly. But if anyone could find a  way  through  the  rips  and

reefs on the other side of known space,  it  was  Mara.  He  had  nothing  but

confidence in his wife to get them to their destination.

Luke examined the boards before him. "Let's just hope Widowmaker is okay.

"

Lights flickered across the displays, and a  new  blip  appeared  on  the

scopes-shakily at first, but steadying.

"Here she is now," Mara said.

Seconds later, the voice of Captain Arien Yage  sounded  over  the  comm.

"How about a warning or something next time?"

Luke smiled to himself at  the  captain's  comment.  "Sorry  about  that,

Arien. If we could give you a heads-up, you know we would."

"No problem. We got out in one piece, and that's the main thing."

The frigate was locked on Jade Shadow's  navicomputer  and  would  mirror

every move Mara made through the shoals of the Unknown Regions, but there  was

no way to communicate through hyperspace and therefore no way to warn  of  any

sudden exits.

"This is getting annoying," Mara  muttered  after  doing  checks  on  her

displays. "I can't work out what I'm doing wrong."

Luke was just as confused. Three times they'd tried and  failed  to  jump

the last parsec to where the empty system of  Klasse  Ephemora  lay.  There-so

Jacen had deduced on Csilla, and so all evidence supported-they would find the

living world of Zonama Sekot. But it felt to Luke  as  though  something  were

keeping them out. Mara assured him that it wasn't like  that:  the  hyperspace

anomalies were a natural phenomenon;  they  didn't  do  anything  consciously.

Nevertheless, it was uncanny how there seemed to be so  many  of  them  around

this particular point in space.

"Maybe it's because of the anomalies that Zonama Sekot came here  in  the

first place," Luke suggested. "It's safe in here, after all. Once it  got  in,

it could be reasonably sure no one else would bother trying."

"Well, the Chiss probes managed to get in," Mara said. "And if  they  can

do it, then so can I."

Luke sent a wave of reassurance to his  wife,  buoying  up  the  flagging

confidence that simmered just beneath her show of  determination.  She  was  a

much  better  navigator  than  an  astromech,  and-while  it   was   pointless

speculating on the capabilities of  a  world-sized  intelligence  like  Zonama

Sekot-he was sure she could match its flying abilities any day.

"It could be dark matter," Soron  Hegerty  said  from  behind  them.  The

elderly professor of comparative religions-a specialist on exotic alien  life-

had come forward from the passenger bay, steadying herself with one frail hand

against the transparent canopy covering the cockpit.

Luke faced her. "Do you think so, Doctor?"

"Perhaps," Hegerty said. She paused a moment, obviously trying  to  think

of a way to condense all her studies on the subject into a  few  words.  "Dark

matter interacts only gravitationally with the rest of the universe. It  pools

into clumps like ordinary matter, forming clusters and galaxies similar to the

one we inhabit. Some scientists believe our galaxy to be surrounded by a  halo

of such galaxies-completely invisible to the eye, but there nonetheless.

"Danni and I were talking about this just yesterday," she went  on.  "She

wonders if such an invisible clump might explain the hyperspace disturbance in

the Unknown Regions. A  dark  matter  cluster  could  be  in  the  process  of

colliding with our galaxy right now, passing invisibly through it,  detectable

only by its gravity. Clusters aren't uniform in density: they have dust  lanes

and empty bubbles-and stars, of course. The uneven distribution of dark matter

might account for the difficulty we've  had  charting  this  region  from  the

'real' universe. It all comes down to a collision with another galaxy we can't

even see-a collision taking place over billions and billions of years."

Hegerty looked through the forward screens, eyes glittering as though  in

wonder at the invisible worlds she imagined.

Mara brushed a strand of red hair back from her face.  "That's  all  very

interesting, Doctor. Can we chart the dark matter somehow  and  work  out  how

hyperspace is folded around here?"

Hegerty returned from infinity with  a  shrug.  "Theoretically,  perhaps.

You'd need some sort of large-scale gravity detector, and a means  of  working

out exactly how dark matter influences hyperspace."

"So it doesn't actually help us right now?"

Hegerty shook her head. "I just wanted you to know  that  you're  dealing

with a changeable phenomenon. If Zonama Sekot  can  detect  the  gravitational

passage of dark matter through our galaxy, it might have located a bubble that

was about to close. If it put itself inside this bubble, and the  dark  matter

walls slammed shut around it, it could guarantee its safety. Nothing would  be

able to get through until the dark matter shifted and the bubble opened again.

"

Luke could tell from Mara's expression that she didn't like this idea  at

all.

"If you're right, this bubble must be big enough  to  enclose  an  entire

star system," she said. "I don't believe something that big would  be  totally

seamless. There has to be a way in-and a way out, too.  If  I  were  a  living

planet on the run, there's no way I'd lock myself in anywhere. There has to be

a way."

Luke put a soothing hand on her arm. "I suggest you rest first, my  love.

You're not going to get anywhere when you're frustrated like this."

Mara was about to argue the point, but then something softened behind her

eyes and she sagged back into her seat. "You're right, of course. I guess  I'm

just in a hurry to get on with it. The sooner we find Zonama Sekot, the sooner

we can go home."

Luke sympathized with that feeling all too well. Ben, their  son,  was  a

long way away, hidden in the Maw with the other Jedi children, safe  from  the

Yuuzhan Vong. The last holos they'd received had  revived  an  ache  that  was

never far away. The boy was growing up without his parents, just as  Luke  had

grown up without his. It was necessary, but not ideal.

With Mara's approval, he ordered a rest stop. Deep in  the  star-spangled

blackness of the Unknown Regions, the mission came to a temporary halt.

Jag Fel sat by Tahiri's bed, staring curiously at the young girl for what

must have been the tenth time in two hours. Her brow was drenched  with  sweat

and needed to be wiped frequently. Her hands gripped tightly at the sheets  on

which she lay. Every now and then she made  a  strange  mewling  noise,  which

sounded to Jag almost like a suppressed scream.

Jaina had wanted to make sure that someone was at Tahiri's bedside at all

times, in case she woke up.

It was Jag's shift. He just hoped it wouldn't be on his watch that Tahiri

opened her eyes-because if it was Riina who  emerged,  he  knew  he  would  do

whatever was necessary for the safety of all concerned.

Jag was startled out of his brooding by the buzz of the comlink.  Captain

Mayn of the Selonia had installed a compact  communications  rig  in  Tahiri's

room so that whoever was on watch could keep in touch with  events  elsewhere.

He answered it before the noise could disturb her.

He found himself in the middle of a joint conversation between Jaina  and

her parents.

"Something fishy is definitely going on," Jaina was saying.

"At the Thorny Toe?" That was  Han,  speaking  from  the  bridge  of  the

Falcon. He sounded slightly out of breath. "I thought so, too. The guy I spoke

to-whoever it was-is definitely up to something."

"Not that," Jaina said.  "The  cubic  sabacc  gives  it  away.  It's  too

unlikely. Someone let you win."

"What about that famous Solo luck?"

"No one's that lucky, Dad. Face it:  someone  didn't  want  you  snooping

around. Rigging the table to make it look like you  cheated  would  have  been

easier than trying to expel you by force for no good  reason.  It's  the  only

explanation."

Her father reluctantly conceded her point. "It's possible, I guess."

"That still doesn't tell us who's behind it."  Leia's  unease  wasn't  so

easily assuaged. "The bar owner is clearly involved. He's  either  warning  us

off or looking for an edge of his own. Either way, we know that we  should  go

back."

"What about you, Jaina?" Jag broke in. "Did you find anything?"

She made an exasperated noise. "If I'd been stonewalled I'd count  myself

as lucky. I haven't found a whiff of the Ryn anywhere, and I'm not likely  to,

now."

"Not now that they're onto us," Han said gloomily.

"Worse. There's some sort of disturbance out here. A brawl of some  kind,

and it's spreading." For the first time, Jag  noted  the  sound  of  the  city

behind her voice. He could hear shouting and what sounded like  transparisteel

shattering. "Law enforcement is nonexistent here, of course, so  it's  getting

nasty very quickly."

"How far are you from the Falcon?" Leia asked.

"A dozen blocks, but it's getting tougher by the minute. Wait a second."

Jaina's end of the  conversation  went  silent  for  a  minute.  Jag  was

prepared to wait it out with the others, but Captain Mayn's  voice  came  over

the comm.

"We've got something of a situation here," she said.  "Dock  security  is

warning of a riot breaking out across the city. There's  a  mob  on  our  way,

apparently."

That accorded with the sounds Jag at heard at Jaina's end.

"Any word on what caused it?" Leia asked.

"None as such. There are rumors of an incident  somewhere  in  the  city.

They say that a Galactic Alliance  agent  attempted  to  infiltrate  a  secure

compound and has made off with a fortune."

"We have no agents here that I know of," Leia said.

"Apart from us," Han put in.

"Sorry," Jaina said, coming back onto the line. "Got caught in a  traffic

snarl. The way to the Falcon is blocked. I'm going  to  try  for  the  Selonia

instead."

Jaina's footsteps were hurried over  the  comlink.  Jag  could  hear  the

concern in Leia's voice as she said, "Hurry, but be careful. Someone might  be

trying to whip up resentment against us."

"Why?"

"Let's wonder about that later," Han said. "Just get back safely."

Jag echoed that sentiment wholeheartedly as Jaina's channel went  silent.

"Sounds to me  like  someone's  covering  their  tracks,"  he  said  to  those

remaining on the line.

"You and me both, Jag," Han said. "And if Jaina wasn't out there  in  the

middle of it, I'd happily leave them to it."

"That's probably our best course  of  action,"  Leia  said.  "We've  been

looking  for  the  Ryn  and  haven't  found  them.  They've  had   plenty   of

opportunities to look us up and haven't. I'm starting to think that we've been

wasting our time."

Han uttered a grunt that could have been one of agreement.

"I'll prepare for liftoff," said Mayn, ever  the  pragmatist.  "We'll  be

away the moment she's on board, if that's what you decide."

"Should I ready Twin Suns?" Jag asked.

"Not necessary, Jag," Leia said. "We can handle the Onadax  defense  grid

long enough to get away, if it comes to that."

"I'll wait here then." He nodded stiffly. "Thanks for keeping me posted."

"Stand by," Mayn said.

With a slight hiss of static, the line closed.

Jag resisted the impulse to pace. He  hated  being  confined  to  medical

quarters while Jaina put herself at risk  out  in  the  city,  but  there  was

nothing he could do about it. Orders were orders, and his Chiss training  left

him no option but to obey. All he could do was wait for Mayn or somebody  else

to update him.

Tahiri stirred on the bed beside him, issuing  another  of  her  strange,

strained sounds.

Hurry up, Jaina, he thought as he mopped the girl's brow. Hurry  back  to

me...

Jacen frowned and tried again.

"Mon Calamari Communications Control, this  is  Farm-boy  One.  Come  in,

MCCC. I repeat, this is Farmboy One. Please respond."

Silence.

He sighed as he leaned tiredly back into his chair. While Luke  and  Mara

rested, Jacen was in charge of Jade Shadow. Sensing a familiar wistfulness  in

his uncle and aunt, he had decided to report to the new capital,  looking  for

an update on his cousin Ben. His failure to raise Mon Calamari  troubled  him,

even though he knew  there  was  probably  a  perfectly  logical  explanation.

Communications with the Unknown Regions weren't ideal; all transmissions  were

routed through a bottleneck on the edge of the Outer Rim. That bottleneck  had

never closed before, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible.

Before jumping to conclusions, though, Jacen had  wanted  to  test  every

alternative hypothesis. Jade Shadow's comm systems were working perfectly well

at short range; several conversations with the  Widowmaker  proved  that.  And

when he'd changed his target and tried to hail the  CEDF  network,  the  crisp

precise tones of a Chiss comm officer answered immediately, so  it  was  clear

that the subspace transmitters were still working, too.

"MCCC, this is Farmboy One," he continued.  "This  is  an  emergency.  We

require an immediate response!"

When there was still no reply after a couple of minutes, he  decided  the

fault had to lie in one of the relay bases between the Unknown Regions and the

rest of the galaxy. There was no other possibility that he could think of.

"What's the emergency?"

Jacen turned to see Danni silhouetted in the doorway. "We're out of  blue

milk," he lied. He didn't want to alarm anyone until  he'd  had  a  chance  to

speak to his uncle. "You know how cranky Mara gets  when  she  doesn't  get  a

proper breakfast."

She moved around to take position in the copilot's seat beside him.

"There is no denying that you are an amazing Jedi, Jacen  Solo,  but  you

are a terrible liar."

Jacen smiled. For all the new understanding of the Force he had  received

under Vergere's tutelage, all the skill as a Jedi he'd amassed over the  years

spent fighting the Yuuzhan Vong, Danni could see right through him.

"I can't raise Mon Cal," he said, his expression becoming  more  serious.

"There seems to be some sort of break in transmission between here and there."

"What sort of break?"

"It's hard to tell from this end. I do know, though,  that  if  we  can't

contact Mon Cal, we won't be able to tell them what we find here."

"If we find anything. There are no guarantees, Jacen."

"You saw the data-"

"I did, and I agree with you. I'm just trying to encourage debate in your

own thoughts." Danni's curly blond hair framed her head like a  halo,  glowing

in the instrument lights, and her green eyes seemed to bore into his. "I  feel

your tension, Jacen. You're humming like an  overloaded  shield.  What  if  we

don't find anything, or it's not what you're hoping for?  That's  what  you're

thinking, isn't it? Underneath everything else,  that's  what  really  bothers

you."

He nodded. That fear was running at the back of his mind, a steady rhythm

constantly unsettling him,  encouraging  him  to  overreact.  "Perhaps  you're

right," he said. "I guess we're not completely cut off.  We  can  still  reach

Csilla. Maybe I should check with them to see if they can get through  to  Mon

Cal. If not, they can keep trying while we go ahead with our mission."

Her smile broadened. "Sometimes all we need to do  is  get  the  thoughts

that trouble us out of our head and into the open where we can see  them  more

clearly."

She reached out to pat him reassuringly on the  shoulder,  but  her  hand

never fell. Something powerful and strange rolled through  him.  Jacen  pulled

away from her, thinking at first that what he was feeling  must  somehow  have

had something to do with her. But the sensation persisted, and her  expression

echoed his alarm.

"You can feel that?" Whatever it was, it was getting stronger-and it  was

coming through the Force.

Danni nodded, covering both ears with the flats of her  palms.  "What  is

it?"

"I don't know." His head was starting to vibrate like a bell.  He  turned

to the displays ahead of him, searching for information. "But I intend to find

out."

* * *

Saba started awake from a deep  sleep  feeling  as  though  someone  were

trying to crack open her skull. She called out in alarm,  flailing  wildly  at

the empty air before realizing where she was: resting up against the  wall  in

one of Jade Shadow's crew quarters. She'd closed her  eyes  to  meditate  when

Mara had announced the mission had stalled, and she must have fallen asleep.

No alarms were ringing; she couldn't smell panic pheromones in  the  air;

everything seemed completely normal-except for the fact that the crack in  her

skull seemed to be widening...

She sat up with a growl, sharp teeth clenched in a tight zigzag line. Her

eyes peered out from under heavy, knotted brows. She focused upon  a  spot  on

her bed, desperately trying to concentrate on who  or  what  was  causing  the

intense discomfort.

Find the pain, she told herself. Trace it back to your attacker!

She breathed deeply through her nostrils and sought  to  find  her  inner

calm, the still center of her being. It had taken her years  to  overcome  the

natural instincts of her species, and  in  times  of  stress-when  every  cell

wanted to slash and tear instead  of  contemplate  and  respond  with  careful

forethought-the urges were particularly hard to suppress. But she was  strong,

and determined.

The Force came to her bidding  with  familiar  ease,  flooding  her  with

energy that swept the tiredness and confusion away. And with it, too, came the

knowledge that what she was feeling was coming through the  Force  itself,  as

though something very large and powerful had been disturbed nearby.

Through the discomfort of such  intense  feelings,  she  felt  the  first

glimmerings of excitement. It could be only one thing!

Saba hurried forward through the ship. She could  tell  that  the  others

gathered there shared her excitement. Master Skywalker,  Mara,  Jacen,  Tekli,

Danni-they could all feel it! On a  ship  full  of  Force-sensitives,  it  was

impossible to hide something as powerful as this. Only  Soron  Hegerty  seemed

immune, asleep as she was in one of the cabins.

R2-D2 tootled as Saba went past. She tapped the droid's shining dome, but

didn't stop. The smell of human uncertainty emanating from  the  fore  of  the

ship was strong, and Saba breathed through her mouth to  ensure  her  thoughts

remained clear and focused.

"-can't be sure at this range," Mara was saying,  addressing  the  others

standing around in the passenger bay. "It could be anything.  Massive  psychic

disturbances occur for all sorts of reasons."

Master Skywalker nodded. "She's right, Jacen. When Alderaan was destroyed

by the Death Star, Obi-Wan felt it from a great distance."

"I know, but this  is  close,"  Jacen  insisted,  his  voice  thick  with

excitement. "I can feel it. What else could it be?"

Saba could sense the others wanting to believe but remaining reluctant to

gamble on the young Jedi's hunch.

"Jacen iz right," she said, the words emerging in a  rough  approximation

of Basic from her stress-tightened throat. "Zonama  Sekot  criez  out  in  the

void."

The Jedi Master faced her. "But why?"

"It feelz... distressed." The pained looks on the faces before her showed

that they felt it, too. It was impossible to keep out.

"Almost frightened," Danni ventured, hugging herself. "But angry, too."

"Okay, suppose it is Zonama Sekot," Mara said. "What then? Do we  attempt

to contact it?"

"That depends on whether you think you can  follow  this  signal  to  its

source." The red-haired woman frowned. "It's possible, but I'm not sure I like

the idea of turning up uninvited. This thing sounds agitated as it is. Barging

in there might only antagonize it further."

"Maybe," her husband replied, "but I think that turning up and showing it

our intentions rather than trying to explain  them  from  a  distance  is  the

better option." He turned  to  the  Barabel.  "Jacen,  Saba-you're  our  life-

sensitives. What do you think?" Jacen looked uncertain.

"I can no more read this mind than I could the  entire  contentz  of  the

Chiss library," Saba told Luke, her tail tapping restlessly against her  right

ankle.

"Won't going closer make the situation worse, though?" Danni asked.

Master Skywalker looked uncertain. "All I'm sure of is that this our best

shot at getting where we want to go. If we  ignore  it,  we  might  never  get

another one."

Mara inhaled deeply. "Okay, then let's do it while we still can."

Luke reopened the line to the captain of the Widowmaker. "Arien,  I  want

you to lock onto our navicomputer and prepare for immediate  departure.  We've

got a lead, and if our hunch is right we'll soon be exactly where we  need  to

be. We don't know what we might be getting into, so be prepared."

"Ready when you are," came the immediate reply. "Yage out."

Luke looked around the cockpit at the nervous faces watching him.  "Maybe

we should meld," he said. "Pooling our concentration might make it easier  for

Mara to trace the source."

Danni had had only limited experience with the  Jedi  practice  of  mind-

melding, but she nodded  along  with  the  others.  Saba  began  the  familiar

exercises with a series of deep breaths. She felt  the  life-sparks  of  those

around her, glowing like embers in a white-hot furnace. The  strength  of  the

signal was such that it almost totally blanketed them. But  she  concentrated,

bringing them steadily into focus, and slowly their thoughts joined in a tight

embrace.

Mara's mind danced with hyperspace coordinates,  instrument  panels,  and

other space flight paraphernalia. Saba added her perceptions  of  the  distant

world-mind to the mix of thoughts and impressions gathering around Mara. Danni

offered the clearest knowledge of astronomical forces. Saba  imagined  herself

on the dark, red-lit world of Barab I, prowling low for shenbit  bonecrushers,

every sense keen. Zonama Sekot wasn't the same thing as a flesh-rending  giant

lizard, but the principle was the same. They were hunting, and she was a  good

hunter...

Mara took everything she was given and plotted a  course.  Jade  Shadow's

hyperdrive roared into life, and Saba felt the familiar  sensation  of  lights

streaking past them and falling behind as the strange topology  of  hyperspace

enfolded them.

Here the territory belonged to Mara. Even with the Force to  guide  them,

the way was tortuous and fraught with danger. Jade  Shadow  did  her  best  to

follow the path laid down for her, with the  Widowmaker  firmly  in  tow,  but

almost immediately she encountered the same barrier she had  earlier.  With  a

sickening wrench she was dumped back into realspace, only slightly  closer  to

Klasse Ephemora than she had been before.

Mara didn't give up. The signal from the distant mind was  as  strong  as

ever. Saba concentrated on it, feeling out the insubstantial pathways  between

it and them. There was nothing but  vacuum  in  the  way,  she  told  herself.

Crossing that vacuum should be as easy as leaping  across  a  room.  Her  tail

quivered with effort as she imagined that hyperspace leap in detail.

Jade Shadow jumped again. The hull vibrated  as  Mara  plunged  the  ship

headlong through the strange spaces surrounding their objective. Saba received

impressions of incomprehensible shadows  sweeping  by,  bizarre  n-dimensional

membranes reluctantly unfolding to let them pass. She didn't  know  what  they

were or where they came from, but it seemed for a  time  as  though  Mara  was

making progress. They were getting closer-they had to be!

Then, rattling  like  an  old  freighter,  they  were  dumped  back  into

realspace. They stopped long enough to check on the  Widowmaker.  The  frigate

limped from hyperspace seconds after Jade Shadow.

"Is the Widowmaker holding  up?"  Mara  asked.  "It's  seen  worse,"  the

Imperial captain assured her. "I imagine she'll keep going long after we  give

up."

Satisfied, Luke gathered the Jedi minds around him for another try.

"I think we can do it this time," he encouraged  them.  "Mara  was  right

when she said before that there had to be a way in. All we have to do is  find

it."

Grimly determined, they tightened the meld and  tried  again.  Saba  felt

herself dissolving in the confusing sensations passing through and around  her

as hyperspace folded around them. The pull of Zonama Sekot was  stronger  than

ever, and growing stronger with each passing second. She felt  as  though  she

were drowning in the massive outpouring of emotions, a mote of sand caught  in

a dust storm, swept up on a rising surge, unable to control where it took her.

For a timeless moment, she completely lost all sense of herself. She  was

subsumed, absorbed, erased. The hunt  consumed  her.  All  her  attention  was

focused on her quarry-on tracking it, finding it, catching it...

Then, abruptly, something changed. She didn't know what it was,  but  the

thoughts changed in pitch. It was as if they'd reached the  eye  of  a  storm.

Energy still swirled around them, but at the center there was a kind of peace-

ful balance. Saba felt her thoughts regain a sense of normality,  joining

up again in a single coherent stream. They had emerged  from  hyperspace  once

more, only this time the screens were alive with data: there was a sun blazing

on one, a gas giant looming on another. A faint green-blue speck hung  in  the

center of a third screen-and it was to this that her senses clung. Green meant

chlorophyll; blue meant water. If a world was ever to live,  it  had  to  have

both.

Zonama Sekot!

But as the view zoomed in closer, she saw yellow and  bright  red  clouds

blossoming as energy weapons flashed and flared around the  atmosphere.  Thin-

hulled spaceships burst open under the influence of stupendous forces, casting

countless lives into the harsh vacuum of space.

And that wasn't all. What Saba saw behind the space battle was completely

beyond her experience. Bright feathery ribbons trailed from the planet's poles

like liberated coronas. Fleeting  sprites  danced  in  the  upper  atmosphere,

sending towering flashes of  energy  spiking  far  above.  Massive  sheets  of

lightning swept around the equator, gathering speed until  they  joined  in  a

smooth ring; then, with a piercing crack, they lashed out and up like  a  whip

of pure energy. Magnetic field fluxes measured by Jade Shadow accompanied what

appeared to be  tractor  beam  effects  on  scales  Saba  had  never  imagined

possible.

Zonama Sekot's attackers were obviously Yuuzhan Vong  vessels:  two  mid-

size cruiser analogs and countless numbers of coralskippers. But they  weren't

the only ships in the air. Among them darted and wove  tiny  points  of  light

like no ships Saba had ever seen before. Every one was  different;  every  one

was beautiful; every one was deadly.

Zonama Sekot was fighting back!

Anger blazed-ugly in its ferocity, devastating in its

efficacy-and with it came a return of the storm. Saba barely had time  to

wonder what would happen when the mind they'd  been  seeking  finally  noticed

them, when a wall of psychic energy struck them, tossing them into oblivion.

"Spare me, Master! Spare me!"

Supreme Overlord Shimrra gazed down with cold contempt at  the  squirming

thing at his feet. The Shamed One had been tortured and beaten, but still  she

hadn't broken. If the godlike ruler of the Yuuzhan Vong found  this  puzzling,

he didn't let it show.

"Spare you?" he said, slowly pacing around the prostrate figure. "Why? So

you can continue to pollute my  chambers  with  your  false  protestations  of

innocence?"

"Not false, Lord! You must believe me."

"You dare to tell me what I must do?" Shimrra snarled.

The object of his ire quivered piteously. "Forgive  my  ignorance!  If  I

knew the answers to the questions you ask, I would surely tell you!"

"But you do know. You are a pawn of the vile sect that dares  follow  the

Jeedai."

"Master, I swear by-"

"Spare me oaths to your infidel gods. I will hear no more  of  your  foul

lies." Shimrra gestured imperiously, and the Shamed One was dragged away.  The

charnel pits where the heretics were taken for dishonorable execution had been

working day and night in recent times. A  swarm  of  ravenous  yargh'un-toothy

rodents as long as a Shamed One's leg-devoured the  victims  in  swift  order.

Crippled, their limbs broken prior to being tossed to their doom, those  found

guilty of heresy were shown no mercy, nor afforded any honor in the manner  of

their death.

"Destroy the yargh'un," Shimrra ordered of the  guards  who  had  stepped

forward to do his will.

The guards stopped  in  their  tracks,  confused  by  the  Supreme  One's

command. "Master?"

"The beasts have been defiled by heretical blood," he  said.  "Take  them

from the pit and have them burned."

"What shall we do with this one, Master?" The guards indicated the Shamed

One quailing between them.

"Deal with it as you normally would. Break its legs and throw it into the

pit." Shimrra ascended his  throne,  climbing  heavily  across  pulsating  hau

polyps. "It can die slowly of starvation and thirst, like an animal. Its  body

will stay where it lies to serve as an example of what will happen  to  anyone

who dares allow this heresy to propagate. There will be  no  easy  deaths  for

those who turn their backs on the gods."

The guards obeyed Shimrra's will with grim  determination,  ignoring  the

plaintive cries of the condemned. The cries turned  to  shrieks  as  all  hope

fled, then faded to distant wails as the Shamed One was dragged away from  the

throne room.

Shimrra waited until the last echo had passed before speaking again.

"You do well, Ngaaluh. Once again your investigations  have  exposed  the

enemy within."

The slender priestess bowed deeply. "I am honored by your acknowledgment,

Supreme One."

"You find success where many others have failed." Shimrra's baleful  gaze

scanned the faces of the priests, shapers, warriors, and  intendants  who  had

been assembled for the interrogation. "We must be ever watchful to ensure that

the roots of heresy spread no farther than they already have. More than  that:

we must actively seek out nests of perfidy and find their source."

Assent came loudly and without hesitation.

"Be assured, Great One," said High Perfect Drathul, senior  intendant  of

Yuuzhan'tar, "that we are making every effort to arrest this terrible tide."

"Your will-the will of the gods-is not to be denied," seconded  Warmaster

Nas Choka, cutting the air with his ceremonial tsaisi. "We will not rest until

the last heretic lies crushed beneath our soles!"

"Nor would I expect anything less," the Supreme Overlord said. "In  fact,

henceforth anything short of enthusiasm for the heresy's eradication  will  be

regarded as collaboration. And collaboration will be punishable  in  the  same

fashion as treachery. Is that understood?"

The echoes of the Supreme Overlord's  pronouncement  rumbled  around  the

throne room, and all who heard it bowed solemnly in agreement.

"You will continue  this  work,  Ngaaluh,"  Shimrra  intoned.  "I  cannot

personally oversee every interrogation and execution, yet it is my  misfortune

to be the one responsible for upholding all that the gods  have  entrusted  to

us. I am therefore glad to have someone in whom I can place my trust. Go forth

and find me more bodies for the yargh'un pit. When it is full,  I  will  build

another, and another, until the curse of this foul heresy is erased  from  the

galaxy once and for all, and the gods favor us again."

"Yes, Supreme One." Ngaaluh's bow was even deeper than her first.

The Supreme Overlord shifted in his  throne  and  stared  dispassionately

over the heads of his minions. "Leave me now. I have much to contemplate."

One by one the members of Shimrra's court filed out of the  chamber.  The

priestess Ngaaluh was among the last to leave. She turned to  glance  back  at

Shimrra, giving the villip beacon she carried a final glimpse of  the  Supreme

Overlord, seated atop his throne.

To Nom Anor, watching the events on a villip choir far away, deep beneath

Yuuzhan'tar's surface, Shimrra looked isolated yet undiminished.  The  Supreme

Overlord's power and confidence was evident in his straight-backed posture and

the indifference with which he dismissed his court. The ruler  of  the  galaxy

had  weathered  many  storms  in  his  time  and,  judging  by   the   glaring

determination of his stare, planned to weather many more.

Nom Anor's smile, previously broad and triumphant, slipped at the  sight.

His gnarled hands curled into fists as he paced  back  and  forth  across  his

audience chamber - the sixth he'd occupied in as many weeks. The  transmission

from Ngaaluh ended as she crossed the security perimeter of  Shimrra's  throne

room.

"Another success," Kunra murmured.  The  disgraced  warrior,  Nom  Anor's

adviser in all matters nonreligious, slouched by the door, to.all  appearances

perfectly relaxed. But Nom Anor knew better;  Kunra  was  alert  for  trouble,

listening intently to everything taking place on  either  side  of  the  door.

"We've gained a great deal of valuable intelligence since Ngaaluh  joined  us.

She is instrumental in our growing influence."

Nom Anor nodded distractedly. As though his  silence  were  a  challenge,

Kunra persisted in his enthusiasm.

"Not only does Shimrra find a traitor close to his throne,  but  then  he

fails to extricate a confession from her! Did you see the look on his face? He

is frightened of us!"

"I find it difficult to watch." Shoon-mi appeared from the shadows beside

the Prophet's stately chair with a bowl of water Nom Anor had  requested.  The

Shamed One was dressed in a faded priest's robe and  wore  his  scarless  face

with something akin to pride. His expression, however, was forever  glum,  and

seemed to become increasingly so with each passing day.

Nom Anor understood his religious adviser's concern perfectly. "In all of

us lurks a residual loyalty to the old  ways,  Shoon-mi.  Sometimes  even  the

truth finds it difficult to erase the programming of a lifetime."

"That's not what I meant, Master." Shoon-mi looked  almost  sullen.  "I'm

referring to Eckla of Domain Shoolb." Nom Anor stared blankly at Shoon-mi  for

a few moments before comprehension dawned: Eckla was the Shamed  One  who  had

just been sentenced to death in Shimrra's chamber.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Her sacrifice was a noble one, and did not go

unnoticed." The words flowed smoothly, covering the fact that Eckla of  Domain

Shoolb had ceased being of interest to Nom Anor as soon as  the  risk  of  her

betraying him was no longer an issue. "She will be remembered as a  martyr  to

our cause."

"One of many, now."

Nom Anor's instincts urged him to reprimand the impudent nobody daring to

rebuke him, but he forced himself to speak calmly. "The way to  liberation  is

long and hard, Shoon-mi. We all knew this when we joined, and we would all  do

the same as Eckla if our time came."

"Without hesitation, Master." Shoon-mi made all the appropriate gestures,

but still a hint of  defiance  remained  in  his  tone.  "I  remind  each  new

novitiate that pain is  often  the  only  reward  of  faithfulness.  Few  seem

deterred."

"At least something lies beyond the pain," Nom Anor reminded him, feeding

his assistant the spiritual fodder he craved. "The Jeedai promise a new  life,

whereas the old brings nothing but death and servitude. Freedom is  worth  the

risk of pain, don't you think?"

"Yes, Master."

With nothing more to add, Shoon-mi bowed his  way  out  of  the  audience

chamber. Nom  Anor  could  have  used  his  advice  on  forthcoming  novitiate

selections, but he let the Shamed One go for now. Had he cared  at  all  about

the life of Eckla of Domain Shoolb, he, too, might have needed some time alone

to think.

He gestured for Kunra to shut the door. He felt  restless,  unnerved.  If

Ngaaluh's infiltration of Shimrra's court was so  successful,  why  didn't  he

feel satisfaction? Why couldn't he be like Kunra,  and  blithely  accept  that

Shimrra was feeling the full effect of the heresy undermining his authority?

"Tell me about the ones you're training in this region," he said tiredly,

when he was certain the room was secure. "What progress have you made?"

"I have selected three of the more  adept  recruits,  without  Shoon-mi's

knowledge." The disgraced warrior moved from his position by the  door  toward

Nom Anor. The confident ease of his movements revealed that he  had  grown  to

enjoy his position as lackey-cum-chief-lieutenant for the Prophet. "Each shows

the right balance of fanaticism and stupidity for  the  task.  I'll  let  them

fight among themselves to see which is successful."

"Literally fight?" Blood sports didn't fit in with the Jedi  Heresy,  but

Nom Anor knew that Kunra had a dark, rough edge that might go that far.

Kunra shook his head. "The successful applicants must be able to meet the

stare of Shimrra's lackeys unflinchingly, yet without resorting  to  violence.

They will take their first steps toward true defiance against each other.  The

first to strike a blow will be the first to be dismissed." "And  by  dismissed

you mean-" Kunra nodded. "Eliminated."

Nom Anor nodded, satisfied. There were many conflicting demands  made  of

an organization such as his. The first was finding ways to spread  the  heresy

through conduits that had never been designed to act efficiently or  reliably.

The Shamed Ones had always gossiped, but did so with no concern  for  accuracy

and were safe only under the assumption that no one higher up cared to listen.

For the heresy to be effective, distortions had to be kept to a  minimum.  And

now that higher ranks were listening, precautions had to be  taken  to  ensure

that the message couldn't be traced.  These  two  objectives  were  frequently

contradictory, and Nom Anor relied on his two assistants to balance them, with

or without each other's knowledge.

So if Shoon-mi was responsible for  ensuring  the  spread  of  the  word,

Kunra, then, was there to plug the leaks. He and a small, handpicked  team  of

what Nom Anor thought of as "spiritual police" worked secretly to tie  up  any

loose threads that threatened to unravel the entire fabric of the scheme.  His

work was made easier by the fact that disappearances were assumed  to  be  the

work of higher echelons getting close to  the  sources  of  the  heresy.  Each

surgical elimination  had  the  added  effect  of  heightening  paranoia  and,

arguably, making his role less essential.

But as the network expanded, and exponentially more mouths began spouting

the Jedi tenets, the risks multiplied. Sometimes Nom Anor woke in  the  middle

of the night, sweating with panic at the thought that even  now,  despite  all

his precautions, Shimrra was closing in.

"Good work," he said, praising Kunra as he would a trained pet. He didn't

need to earn Kunra's loyalty; he had purchased it simply by  sparing  the  ex-

warrior's life. "But don't bore me with the details. Just make sure you have a

candidate ready in three days. I wish to move on. This skulking in the dark is

not something I care to make a habit of."

Kunra bowed briefly. As with Shoon-mi, there  was  a  certain  amount  of

defiance in the gesture, but Nom Anor could accept  it  from  Kunra.  The  ex-

warrior needed spirit to carry out his tasks effectively. Shoon-mi just needed

obedience.

"Leave me now. I wish to think."

Kunra strode from the room, shutting the door behind  him.  Tiredly,  Nom

Anor leaned over to the bowl of water at his side so that he  could  wash  his

face. Things were going well, yes: the heresy was spreading,  and  a  constant

moving from place to place  ensured  that  Shimrra  was  still  no  closer  to

catching him. That wasn't enough, though and it never would be. The heresy had

been from its conception a means of restoring himself to power. Every step  he

took had to advance that cause, or it was a step backward. The  question  that

ever nagged at him, though, was: power over whom? Was being the  leader  of  a

scruffy army of Shamed Ones and misfits sufficient?

He froze, staring down at the reflection in the bowl  of  water.  It  was

haggard and grimy as a  consequence  of  liv  ing  in  the  foul  subterranean

dwellings of Yuuzhan'tar and its eyes were full of doubt.  It  looked  like  a

stranger. With a frustrated snarl he dashed the bowl of water to the floor.

Kunra was wrong. Shimrra wasn't frightened at all Not once had he shown a

flicker of fear. Anger, yes, but not fear. The heresy was a hindrance,  not  a

threat. And the Prophet? The king of a dungeon might be a  king,  but  he  was

still living in a dungeon.

It was well beyond time, Nom Anor told himself, feel-better  even  as  he

came to the conclusion, that he started exercising some real power.

On the Falcon, tempers were flaring.

"We can't leave yet," Han insisted. "Not until we know Jaina's all right.

"

"She's safe, Han. You know that. She's on her way back to  the  Selonia."

Leia felt confined in the tiny cockpit and had to resist  the  urge  to  storm

out. C-3PO was lurking in the access way, looking back and forth  between  Han

and herself as he followed the  heated  exchange.  "By  staying  here,  you're

putting us at risk."

Through sensors on the ship's hull she could hear the baying of  the  mob

that had converged on the Falcon's landing field. Only the halfhearted efforts

of dock security had kept them at bay.

"So what?" he argued. "We can defend ourselves."

"It doesn't help the cause if we go  around  stirring  up  trouble,  Han!

We're supposed to be spreading a peaceful message, not unrest."

Han rubbed at his temple as though he had  a  headache.  On  the  screens

before him were views of the cordon  around  the  Falcon's  dock,  along  with

various patches from local feeds.

"What about the Ryn?" he asked more calmly.

She didn't have an answer ready for that. Her thoughts had  been  focused

on Jaina, too. But she supposed that was  a  consideration.  Back  on  Bakura,

Goure had sent them to Onadax on the pretext that another Ryn would meet  them

there. Thus far, still, there had been nothing.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe Goure got it wrong.  Or  perhaps  things

changed here between the message he received and us arriving. The Ryn  network

is slow, remember. Maybe-"

"Wait." He waved her quiet. "Did you hear that?"

Leia listened, but heard nothing. She put a hand on his shoulder, lightly

patting his taut muscles. If her husband wanted to find a reason to delay,  he

was going to have to do better than that.

"I really think it's time we went somewhere safer, Han. Captain Todra can

look after herself, and Jaina won't be much longer. I  can  feel  her  getting

closer."

He glanced at her, and with  a  sigh  relented.  "All  right,"  he  said,

flicking switches. "But we're only going to low orbit.  If  they  so  much  as

think about hurting her, I want to be able to-"

"Jaina can handle herself," Leia interrupted, suppressing a smile.

A furious pounding from the belly of the ship brought the discussion to a

halt.

"I thought I heard something."  Han  flicked  further  switches  as  Leia

dropped into the seat beside him. He  scanned  through  various  security  cam

angles while she brought the retractable repeating blaster to life.

Through one of the cams they saw a gangly figure  banging  on  the  belly

hatch with a hefty metal rod. The alien's face was  obscured  by  a  fogged-up

visor, but apart from this there was nothing overtly suspicious or threatening

about him or her. The cheap enviro-suit  the  stranger  was  wearing  was  too

flimsy to have concealed any weapon.

"I doubt security would send someone looking like that to do their  dirty

work," Leia said. "Do you?"

Han shook his head dubiously. "Fire a warning shot. That'll fix him."

"That might not be such a good idea, Han. It could be taken as a sign  of

aggression."

"It's intended to be a sign of aggression, Leia," he shot back.  "And  if

he doesn't stop banging on the Falcon like that, I'm going to get a whole  lot

more aggressive, too."

"But he just seems to be trying to get our attention, Han."

"Yeah, and look what he's doing to the paint job in the process!"

"I'm not firing, Han." She sat back in her chair  with  her  arms  folded

resolutely across her chest.

He looked at her for a moment, then rolled  his  eyes.  With  an  annoyed

grunt he heaved himself out of the  pilot's  seat  and  headed  off  down  the

corridor, muttering something about "mutiny" under his breath.

Leia continued with the preflight warm-up he'd  started,  all  the  while

keeping one eye on the belly cam covering the ramp.

With a clunk and a whir it opened wide enough to allow Han  to  bellow  a

warning to the insistent alien. Leia watched the animated exchange between the

two of them, although she couldn't read lips well enough to work  out  exactly

what was being said. Whatever it was, though, it resulted in the alien briefly

lifting his mask, which in turn prompted a look of stunned amazement from Han.

She didn't see the alien's face, so it came as a complete  surprise  when

Han lowered the ramp the rest of the way and gestured for the  alien  to  come

aboard. He did so, tossing to the ground the metallic rod with which he'd been

banging the ship. And as she watched the alien climb the ramp,  Leia  couldn't

quash a rising sense of unease in her stomach.

"Jade Shadow, please respond!"

Captain Mayn's. voice dragged Luke out of what felt like a very deep pit.

The world was shaking around  him,  and  a  roaring  sound  filled  his  ears.

Somewhere beyond the haze caused by the intense mental attack, he  could  feel

Saba, Danni, and Tekli nearby, all out  cold.  Jacen's  mind  was  bright  and

conscious, already reaching out to the others. Farther away, but still in Jade

Shadow, he could sense Soron Hegerty, sleeping heavily. And  beside  him,  his

wife, wrestling with the controls.

"We're kind of busy right now, Captain,"  she  said.  Her  voice  sounded

calm, but Luke could tell from her thoughts that she was  also  suffering  the

aftereffects of the attack. "We'll get back to you the first  chance  we  get,

okay?"

Before the Widowmaker could respond, Mara switched off the comm  unit  so

there would be no more interruptions. The normally simple task of landing  her

ship was clearly taking a lot of concentration.

"Where-?" Luke started, but his throat was too dry to get the words  out.

Pulling himself upright in his seat, he cleared his throat with  a  cough  and

tried again. "Where are we?"

"Coming in to land," she replied, not taking her eyes from the controls.

Through the cockpit's canopy, Luke could see the lush vegetation  of  the

planet below. To the far south he noticed vast areas of cleared  land-possibly

the same scarring from the Yuuzhan Vong  attacks  Vergere  had  described,  or

perhaps lasting aftereffects of so many jumps through hyperspace,  during  its

flight through the Unknown Regions. From far above, there was no way to tell.

He glanced at his wife. The bags under her eyes were heavy and dark. "Are

you all right?" "I guess," she said distractedly. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. It felt like a  Force  punch-only  a  hundred  times  more

powerful. Whatever it was, it managed to knock out everyone on  this  ship-and

keep them unconscious, too." "But not yourself?"

Mara shrugged. "One minute I'm out like the rest of  you;  the  next  I'm

awake and listening to Jacen take instructions over the comm." "Jacen?"

"He woke first. He thinks it was Zonama Sekot that  knocked  us  out  and

woke him up later, but it was definitely someone on the surface who  gave  him

coordinates and an approach corridor. He'd just finished  explaining  that  he

wasn't the best person to pilot the ship when I woke up. That'd be the  planet

too, I guess. When I told them I would need to confer with you, the people  on

the ground said that wasn't an option.  Given  what  the  Shadow's  recordings

show, I didn't think arguing with them was the most  sensible  thing  to  do."

"What do you mean?"

She looked over to him, and this time there was more than just exhaustion

in her eyes: there was a hint  of  nervousness  as  well.  "Take  a  look  for

yourself," she said, flipping a switch to begin the playback of the recording.

"This was taken just before I was roused, after we came into the system."

Luke  turned  to  the  monitor  and  viewed  the  footage  Jade  Shadow's

instruments had managed to capture while the crew was insensate. It showed the

Yuuzhan  Vong  ships  he  had  glimpsed  on  their  arrival,  along  with  the

spectacular pyrotechnic display put on by the planet. He had  forgotten  about

the battle in the confusion of waking up, but seeing it again brought  it  all

back. His surprise at seeing the Yuuzhan Vong in orbit above the living planet

was total.

He watched with awe as the alien ships fell back under the local  defense

forces. The battle was intense. Although the Yuuzhan Vong force was small,  it

almost held its own against the planetary defenses-almost. But eventually  the

alien ships broke  under  the  relentless  resistance  and  scattered.  Zonama

Sekot's defenders hunted down the fleeing ships and destroyed them one by one.

When the recording had finished,  Luke  turned  back  to  Mara.  She  was

piloting her ship through the last stages of descent.

"Are there any left?" He didn't need to elaborate.

"All destroyed, as far as I can tell. There's a lot of static. We were on

the fringes but still affected."

"Why didn't we end up like them?" he asked.

Mara glanced at him sidelong as she brought  the  repulsors  on-line.  "I

have no idea, Luke."

"Perhaps it read our minds and realized we didn't mean it any harm," Luke

thought out loud. "And it woke Jacen first because of his natural affinity for

unusual minds."

"There's only one way to know for sure," Mara said. "That's  to  talk  to

the natives."

"And I guess that's what we're about to do." In the main screen,  heavily

forested land ballooned up toward them. "Maybe  they  can  tell  us  what  the

Yuuzhan Vong were doing here in the first place."

"We know they've sent missions into the Unknown Regions. The  Chiss  told

us that before we left Csilla. This must be one of those missions."

"I guess-but I can't believe they just stumbled across Zonama  Sekot.  We

had a hard enough time finding it on purpose."

"There might be more of them, then,  and  they  might  have  been  poking

around in here longer."

Luke nodded, although his questions were far from answered.  "That  makes

twice they've found it now, that we know of," he said. "It's almost as  though

they're actively looking for it..."

Jade Shadow set down perfectly in a broad, grassy field surrounded on all

sides by steep forest walls. Flicking switches, Mara killed  the  engines  and

settled back into her seat.

"Welcome to Zonama Sekot," Jacen said from behind them.

Luke half-turned to study his nephew. Jacen's eyes were fixed on the view

through the cockpit's massive, transparisteel canopy. On the  surface  of  the

planet outside, life swirled though the branches of the trees in a variety  of

colors and forms.

"Where exactly are we?" Luke asked.

"If you want a name, I can't help you," Jacen said. "Whoever I  spoke  to

gave me detailed coordinates for this landing field, then left us  alone.  But

we're somewhere in the southern hemisphere."

Mara gestured to a  topographic  display  that  indicated  their  precise

location. "If what Vergere told you is true, all of this was destroyed by  the

Yuuzhan Vong the last time they were here, sixty years ago."

Jacen nodded. Luke could understand the note  of  incredulity  in  Mara's

voice. There was no evidence whatsoever  of  the  destruction  that  had  been

inflicted upon the planet, apart from the  odd,  cleared  patch  visible  from

orbit. Zonama Sekot had managed to heal itself.

"Did they say anything else? Anything at all?"

Jacen shook his head. "Only for us to land, and to keep the Widowmaker in

orbit, where it won't be harmed."

"I presume Arien experienced the same thing we did."

"Actually, no," Mara said. "They were completely unaffected. Some of  the

crew suffered headaches and space-sickness,  but  nothing  more  serious  than

that. It's almost as though the Force punch was aimed solely at us."

"Us because Jade Shadow arrived first," Luke asked, "or us because  we're

Jedi?"

He could tell that Mara was about to protest that she knew as  little  as

he did when something caught their attention  outside.  Stepping  out  from  a

narrow gap in the trees were two individuals. Both were tall  and  thin,  with

icy, pale blue skin and wide gold-black eyes.  The  male's  hair  was  a  deep

black, while the woman's swept back in a wave of pure white. Their jaws looked

strong, their expressions stern. They wore  robelike  garments  consisting  of

wide sheets of fabric falling from their shoulders in overlapping streams, all

in shades of green and gray.

They came to a halt a safe distance from  Jade  Shadow,  staring  at  the

yacht with their hands clasped in front of them as though  waiting  for  Luke,

Mara, and Jacen to step out.

"Well," Luke said, glancing at his wife, "here are the natives."

"Their expressions don't look too inviting, do they?"

Mara said, standing.

Jacen went to leave the cockpit, but Luke took his arm. "I'd  rather  you

waited here with Artoo to keep an eye on the others."

Jacen looked for a second as though he might argue.

The stubby droid tootled encouragingly, and the look passed. "That  makes

sense, I guess. Just call if you need help."

"Don't worry," Mara said, squeezing his hand as they  passed  through  to

the air lock. Together she and Luke made  their  way  past  the  others-Tekli,

Saba, and Danni sprawled unconscious on the floor of the passenger  bay  -  to

the rear of the ship and the exit hatch. Mara keyed  the  air  lock  open  and

waved Luke through. He stepped down the egress ramp, stopping at the bottom in

the knee-high grass to take lungfuls of Zonama Sekot's  invigorating  air.  He

closed his eyes for a second, enjoying the feel of  the  cool  breeze  on  his

skin.

We're actually here, he thought. It would take  more  than  a  less-than-

friendly welcome to dull that sense of achievement.

He opened his eyes when Mara came up beside him. Her expression reflected

an amazement similar to his own. The sky was a vibrant blue, and a fitful wind

stirred the flat, wide-bladed grass about their  feet.  Small  clouds  scudded

overhead, partially obscuring the broad, reddish  face  of  Mobus,  the  giant

world around which Zonama Sekot orbited. The system's primary was  halfway  up

the sky and twenty degrees away from the gas giant.

Another deep breath swept the last lingering feeling of doubt away.  This

place was real, and  it  smelled  like  life  itself.  There  was  a  powerful

potential in the Force  trembling  behind  everything,  as  though  a  psychic

thunderstorm were about to burst. Was that the  mind  of  Zonama  Sekot?  Luke

wondered. Was that what Vergere had felt when the  living  planet  had  become

conscious, all those years ago? Even on Ithor, he had  never  felt  fauna  and

flora blend so effortlessly into such a magnificent whole.

He put his ruminations aside when the two strangers approached.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded.

"My name is Luke Skywalker," he said. "And this is my  wife,  Mara.  We'd

like to thank you for welcoming us-"

"You're not welcome," the male said sharply.

Mara frowned. "But weren't you the ones that gave us the coordinates to-?

"

"We were ordered to do so," the woman cut in.

"Yours is the first vessel to land on Zonama in more than  fifty  years,"

the man added. "Sekot has willed it, and so we obey."

With poor grace, Luke noted.

"You speak the names Zonama  and  Sekot  as  though  they  were  separate

things," he said. "Why is that?"

"Sekot is the mind," the man said.

"Zonama is the planet," the woman concluded.

"Then you are the Zonamans?" Luke asked.

"We are Ferroans," said a voice from  behind  Luke.  He  turned  to  find

himself facing a blue-skinned woman dressed similarly to  the  others,  except

her garments were entirely black.

Mara had spun around, surprised, and dropped into a defensive stance.

The corners of the woman's mouth turned up into a slight smile.  "Forgive

me for startling you." Her hands came up in the universal gesture of peace. "I

mean you no harm. I am the Magister. I stand between Zonama and Sekot."

Mara  relaxed  slightly.  Luke  studied  the  new   arrival   with   wary

fascination. He couldn't tell exactly how old she was. Her pale blue skin  was

wrinkled, but her hair was thick and black, tied in a tight ponytail that hung

to her hips. She radiated an incredible vitality that he would  have  expected

from a much younger person. Her Force-signature was odd,  too-as  if  he  were

viewing it through a rain-coated viewport.

There was no denying that she was in charge, though. The  other  Ferroans

backed reverentially away and bowed their heads.

"Then I take it that you are the one we need to speak with," Luke said.

"If you have anything to say, then yes, your words should be directed  to

me."

Luke nodded as he took a step toward the Magister. "We  need  to  discuss

the aliens you were recently fighting." He indicated the sky  with  a  glance.

"We know them as the Yuuzhan Vong, but in the past I believe you have referred

to them as the Far Outsiders."

The Magister's face tilted, an expression of fascination spreading across

it. "How do you know that?"

"A Jedi Knight who once visited here told her story to my nephew."

"You speak of Vergere, then," the woman said, nodding. "We  remember  her

well. And fondly."

Some of Mara's uncertainty ebbed at the open mention of the other  Jedi's

name. "You do?"

"Her story is well known to us. She drew the Far Outsiders  away,  for  a

time-long enough for us to prepare for a second assault.  We  are  capable  of

defending ourselves now, as you have seen."

Luke nodded. "The demonstration we witnessed was impressive, to  say  the

least."

"A demonstration implies it was  put  on  for  your  benefit,"  the  male

Ferroan said. His tone made it quite clear that it had not been at all.

"Now, Rowel," the Magister cautioned gently. "These are our guests."

"No, Magister," the other woman said. "These are  intruders.  They  don't

belong here. We should send them away immediately and forget about them."

"Denial solves nothing, Darak." There was no acrimony in  the  Magister's

words, nor any hint of reproach.

"We have tried to forget about the universe at large,  but  have  clearly

failed in this. In the space of a single day we have encountered  two  species

who sought to find us. Our denial of them did little to deter them."

"But Magister," said the woman, Darak,  "they  bring  with  them  violent

changes! We have lived in peace for decades, and suddenly the skies are filled

with the fire of war!"

"That is so," Luke said. "And I fear there may be more to come."

"You bring ill tidings then," Rowel said, glaring bale-fully at him.

"It is always so with these Jedi Knights," Darak added.

"Wait," Luke said, forestalling Mara's defensive rebuttal. "Did  you  say

Knights? Have you had other Jedi Knights here, apart from Vergere?"

"We have entertained more than one over the  years,  yes."  The  Magister

glanced reprovingly at the other Ferroans. "In  the  past,  the  Jedi  Knights

proved to be our friends, our allies. Why should that not be so now?"

"We should be cautious," Darak advised. "We are  but  one  world  against

millions."

"No one is immune," Luke said. "You cannot  hide  from  what  is  coming.

Today's events prove that. It's a hard truth, but it is truth  we  bring,  not

lies."

The regal woman studied the two humans before her with a piercing gaze.

"I would very much like the chance to speak with your nephew, to exchange

with him our memories of Vergere."

"Send them away!" Darak hissed. "Don't listen to them!"

The Magister laughed loudly at this. "Really, my friends. You go too far.

" To Luke and Mara, she continued: "I beg you  to  forgive  their  disrespect.

Their apprehensions are not unjustified. We have seen unstable  times  in  the

past-especially during the Crossings, when we searched for a new  home.  Those

times were hard on everyone. There were terrible  upheavals:  deaths,  famine,

plagues." A fleeting sadness crossed the Magister's lined  face.  "There  have

been no visitors to Zonama for many years. We live in peace, and now  conflict

has returned to us. We are understandably concerned."

Luke nodded. "As are we. The presence  of  the  Far  Outsiders  here  was

unexpected, and is of grave concern. This is one of the many  things  we  must

talk about, and soon."

"It shall be so," the Magister said, a stern glance at  Darak  and  Rowel

indicating that she would brook no disagreement. "The others may attend, too,"

she added. "They wake even as we speak."

"You will need to come with us, then," the male Ferroan said.

"Where to?" Mara asked, eyes narrowing. "To  our  village,"  Darak  said.

"That's where the meeting place is."

"Okay," Mara said. "Tell us where it is and I'll fly us there myself."

"That's not possible," Rowel said. "Your vessel cannot come."

"And how do you intend to stop me from-?" "I  don't."  Rowel  pointed  to

Jade Shadow. "Sekot has already taken care of it."

Mara's protest died on her lips as she glanced at her ship. The grass her

yacht was resting on, along with vines  that  had  crept  unnoticed  from  the

surrounding undergrowth, had invaded the ship, entwining  around  its  landing

struts. Green  fronds  peeked  out  of  apertures  and  vents  all  along  the

underside, indicating that the intrusion was extensive throughout the ship.

Mara reacted defensively, purely on instinct. She took two  steps  toward

the ship, activating her lightsaber. The bright energy  blade  cut  a  glowing

line  through  the  crystal  clarity  of  the  day,  promising  a  swift   and

indiscriminate pruning.

Luke caught her by the arm before she could take a swing.  "Easy,  Mara,"

he said gently. He leaned in close to her as he guided the blade down  to  her

side, whispering into the red hair covering her ear, "If Sekot can do this  to

the ship, it can certainly do it to us, as well. You can't  hope  to  fight  a

planet, my love."

He was already reaching out for Jacen inside the ship  and,  seeing  that

his nephew was unharmed, he sent Mara his  reassurance.  She  relaxed  in  his

grip, removing her thumb from the activation stud of her  weapon  and  killing

the blade. Nevertheless, she was clearly not happy  with  the  situation.  Nor

could he blame her. Sekot had attacked her ship and made her a prisoner on the

planet. It didn't sit well with him, either; however, he was prepared to  ride

it out.

"Magister-" he started, but stopped  upon  realizing  she  was  gone.  He

hadn't noticed her leaving, but she was nowhere to be seen. Her unusual  Force

presence lingered on the wind, as though part of her were still  around.  That

faded into nothing even as he clutched at it, trying  to  follow  it.  It  was

almost as though she had literally dissolved into thin air.

"If you are going to come with us," Rowel said, "then we leave now."

"Thank you," he said, recovering in order to reply as courteously  as  he

could. If the Ferroans were trying to provoke them in any way, they  would  be

disappointed. "But if we're not permitted to take Jade Shadow, then how are we

to get anywhere?"

The Ferroan pointed at a path visible at the edge of the  landing  field.

"We walk, of course," Darak said with a faint smirk.

Jaina reached Pride of Selonia's dock seconds before the mob. The journey

through the streets of Onadax had  been  arduous,  and  fraught  with  danger.

Several times she'd had to double back to avoid either fires or a  fight  with

the locals. Whoever had stirred up the city had done a frighteningly  thorough

job.

At the entrance to the dock, two guards barred her way.

"We have orders to detain anyone attempting to enter this  vessel,"  said

one, a swarthy Selonian.

"Orders from whom?" she responded, acutely conscious of the mob baying at

her heels. "For what reason?"

"That's not your concern. If you could just step this way-"

This way, his mind revealed, led to a pair of stun cuffs and  a  blow  to

the head.

"You don't need to hold me," she said, taking his will  and  bending  it.

"I'm exempt from the orders you've been given."

"We don't need to hold her," the Selonian told the  other  guard.  "She's

exempt."

Jaina smiled winningly. "Perhaps I should move through now; I'm sure  you

have better things to do than stand around chatting."

"Move on through, please. We can't stand around chatting all day."

The guards parted, allowing her access to the Selonia. She hurried up the

ramp to the ship's wide air lock and keyed in the appropriate  security  code.

Before she had finished, however, the panel hissed open.

"We've been waiting for you," said Selwin Markota, Captain Mayn's  second

in command. He waved her inside. "We're ready to lift off."

The clamor of the mob behind her rose a notch as it  reached  the  docks.

"That would be good idea."

Exhaustion rushed through her as Markota hurried through the corridors of

the  frigate.  A  solid  man  with  receding  hair,  he   was   an   excellent

administrator, ever dependable in a crisis. That he  was  walking  so  briskly

confirmed their circumstances were urgent. Gravity  shifted  minutely  beneath

her feet as the frigate left Onadax behind.

"What about my parents? Did they get away okay?"

"They're in orbit, waiting for you to call."

"Any sign of pursuit?"

"Not so far. My gut feeling is that this was a warning. Someone wanted us

out of the way, but didn't necessarily want us dead."

She nodded, absorbing the information. "The riots were real enough to me.

"

"I'm sure they are. Onadax, like most illegal communities, is a tinderbox

ready to go up at the slightest spark." Markota cast a baleful glance over his

shoulder. "We picked up some local news traffic not long ago. Someone posted a

bulletin concerning the agent we supposedly sent. Eyewitness accounts describe

a person leaving the supposed scene of the incident, an hour or two ago.  That

person matches Han's description."

Jaina thought of her father's telling of the incident at the Thorny  Toe.

It certainly hadn't sounded severe enough to start  a  riot.  But  Han  Solo's

capacity for understatement was as legendary as his luck.

Markota stopped outside the medical suite that Tahiri had been  assigned.

"They're waiting for you in here."

The first thing she saw when she entered the suite was Jag,  rising  from

his seat with an expression of relief on his face. He was across the  room  in

an instant, his big hands  first  touching  her  hair,  then  falling  to  her

shoulder, which he gripped firmly but warmly.

"When we lifted off and I hadn't heard-" He fell into an awkward silence,

as though embarrassed. "I'm glad you're okay," he finished.

Smiling, she touched his cheek lightly with the back of her hand.

"I'm glad, too," she said.

He moved aside, then, to allow her into the suite properly. With a single

glance she took in Tahiri on the bed, pale and comatose, in exactly  the  same

position she'd been in since Bakura. Numerous tubes and monitors snaked  under

the sheet covering her, monitoring and  meeting  all  her  body's  needs.  Her

eyelids were red, and her lips were cracked and dry.

"Sorry to interrupt the moment," came her father's voice from the  room's

comm unit.

"Dad?" she said, surprised. "I hadn't realized there was a line  open  to

you! Is Mom there with you?"

"I'm here, Jaina," her mother said.

"It's great to hear your voices," she said.

"The feeling's mutual, sweetheart," Han said.

Jaina sat on the edge of Tahiri's bed, taking  the  girl's  hand  loosely

into her own. "Sorry things didn't go as planned."

"That depends," Leia said.

"On what?" she asked. "Did you find anything about the Ryn?"

Jaina's father seemed  oddly  hesitant  to  answer  that  question.  "Not

exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, we heard from someone, but it wasn't who we expected."

Jaina sighed, too tired to play games. "Can someone please tell me what's

going on?"

"We picked up a passenger as we  were  leaving  Onadax,"  Han  explained.

"Someone who said he was trying to escape  the  riots.  We  haven't  had  much

chance to talk

to him since we took him aboard, but I'm guessing he's not the one  we're

looking for."

"He's the right species," Leia added, "but doesn't know much about what's

going on."

"And who is he, exactly?"

"He's Droma," came a distinctly Ryn voice over the comm.  "It's  nice  to

speak to you again, Jaina."

Jaina's eyes widened in surprise. "It's good to  hear  your  voice,"  she

managed.

"Hey, I told you to wait in the hold," she heard her father say.

"What, you think I'm going to take your secrets and sell them to the Vong

or something?" The Ryn blew  a  rapid,  lamenting  tune  from  the  chitinous,

flutelike nose sported by the members of his species. Its sound  came  clearly

down the comm. "Don't be so paranoid."

"This has got nothing to do with paranoia! It's to do with privacy."

Their voices slowly faded into the background,  culminating  in  a  tired

sigh from Leia-as though having the two of them on board together was  already

proving too exhausting for her.

"As soon as we're in orbit, I'm coming across, Mom."

"Personally I think you're better off where you are. But, if you feel you

have to, then I'll let your father know you're coming."

Jacen helped Danni up from the floor of the passenger bay.  He  waited  a

moment as she rubbed a dull fog from her eyes. Nearby, his uncle knelt by Saba

and Tekli, gently rousing them.

"Welcome back," Jacen said.

"How-?" Danni started groggily. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours," he said.

"We're here?"

He smiled broadly. "Yes, we're here, Danni. Come see for yourself."

Seeing that she was still feeling vague and disoriented, he steadied  her

as she made her way to the rear of the ship  to  where  the  exit  hatch  hung

invitingly open. Before he'd taken one step down the egress ramp, he felt  his

breath taken from his lungs at the sight outside.

Knee-high grass swayed in a serene breeze beneath a magnificent deep blue

sky. The air was  filled  with  a  fine  down-possibly  pollen  from  numerous

flowering plants scattered about the area. Jacen breathed in deeply,  savoring

the thousand exotic scents and enjoying the slight  giddiness  the  fragrances

caused in him.

We made it, he thought as he descended the  ramp  and  set  foot  on  the

planet's soil. We're actually on Zonama Sekot.

After a dozen steps through the grass, he stopped to let her look  up  at

the multicolored globe of Mobus suspended  in  the  sky  above,  resembling  a

mighty, baleful eye bulging down upon them.

"Incredible, isn't it?" he said softly.

"I don't know what impresses me most," she said. "The view, or  the  fact

that we're actually standing on a sentient planet."

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm sure the locals will manage to  dampen  your

excitement a little."

"The locals-?" For the first  time  she  noticed  the  two  tall  figures

standing some distance  away  to  their  left,  quietly  conferring  with  one

another. "Why? What's wrong with them?"

"Let's just say they're not particularly overjoyed to  see  us,"  another

voice said. They both turned to see Mara,  striding  toward  them  across  the

grass.

"What exactly happened?" Danni asked. "Did they knock us out?"

Together, Mara and Jacen explained the situation as best they could. They

told her of the space battle and the Yuuzhan Vong  expedition,  Jade  Shadow's

descent to the surface of Zonama Sekot, Luke and  Mara's  encounter  with  the

Ferroans and the Magister, and the imprisonment of the ship. On  hearing  this

part, Danni went to examine the verdant fronds that had crept up  the  landing

struts of Jade Shadow, confirming Mara's assertion that they weren't going  to

leave anytime soon. There was a ferocious vitality surging through the leaves;

cut one and three more would undoubtedly grow in its wake.

"What about the Widowmaker?" Danni asked.

"The other vessel will come to no harm as long as it remains  in  orbit,"

came the voice of one of the Ferroans from behind. Jacen turned to see the two

wading through the tall grass toward them.

"But how did you do this?" Jacen felt Danni reach out  with  her  growing

perception of the Force to taste the world around them. She felt what he  did:

no mind, no thoughts; just a constant pressure-similar to what  a  body  would

feel at great depths in an ocean, only mental rather than  physical.  "By  the

Force?"

"Sekot has many defenses," the male Ferroan said unhelpfully.

A groan in the direction of Jade Shadow announced the  arrival  of  Soron

Hegerty, assisted by Luke and closely  followed  by  Tekli.  Saba  wasn't  far

behind; the Barabel's expression  was  suitably  awestruck  as  the  shock  of

displacement slowly faded. Saba's hand rested on the  lightsaber  at  her  hip

while her gaze constantly scanned the tree lines around  them.  It  was  clear

that the hunter in her was not going to be  distracted  by  the  splendor  and

magnificence of her surroundings.

"It is time," the female Ferroan said. "We have a long walk ahead of us."

"Why?" Danni asked. "Where are we going?"

"We'll explain on the way," Luke said.

"Are the treez of your forest safe?" Saba asked.

"They are not trees," the woman said. "They're  called  boras,  and  they

make up the tampasi. They will harm you only if you attempt to harm them."

Without another word, the two Ferroans set off across  the  field,  their

pace suggesting that either the visitors  keep  up  or  they  would  get  left

behind.

Jacen's uncle turned to the Chadra-Fan. "Tekli, would  you  mind  staying

here and keeping an eye on Jade Shadow?"

The diminutive Jedi bowed her head in acknowledgment. "Of course,  Master

Skywalker."

"We'll keep our comlinks open at all times," Luke assured her.

Tekli bowed once more and then returned to Jade Shadow.

Luke faced the others. "Is everyone ready?"

"I don't think we have much choice," Jacen said,  gesturing  to  the  two

Ferroans receding into the distance. "They'll be disappearing over the horizon

if we don't get after them soon."

"Like I said," Mara muttered as she headed  off  in  the  wake  of  their

escorts. "Real friendly."

Jaina listened with interest to Droma's simple  story.  Her  parents  had

already heard it, but listened again with unflagging interest. Jaina  received

the distinct impression that Leia was almost hoping for  an  inconsistency  to

arise.

After rescuing his sister at Fondor, Droma and  his  family  had  drifted

from place to place, as was their custom. The encroaching front of the Yuuzhan

Vong kept them moving at first toward the Core, then into the outer regions of

the galaxy, seeking safer climes. There they encountered fierce  parochialism,

anti-Jedi sentiments, civil war, and other signs of collapsing infrastructure.

It was

all his family could do just to keep their collective heads above water.

"Then we heard about the Ryn network." Droma's tail whipped and coiled as

he paced the Falcon's main hold as if it were an extra hand, gesticulating  to

emphasize certain points of his speech. "We knew of the Great  River,  but  we

weren't qualified as resistance fighters or idealists. We're  just  travelers,

with our own unique skills. The thought of using those skills  to  gather  and

disseminate information  as  we  traveled  seemed  so  obvious,  and  I'm  not

surprised it took one of us to think of it. A great, galactic  enterprise  the

Ryn could finally be part of! It seemed almost too good to be true."

"We've only met two from this network so far," Jaina said. "There was one

on Galantos, who saved us from a Peace Brigade trap, and Goure on  Bakura  who

sent us here. He said that-"

"That someone would be waiting  for  you,"  Droma  interrupted,  nodding.

"That sounds like them."

Jaina looked questioningly at her father, who  just  shrugged.  "He  does

this. It takes some getting used to."

She looked back at the Ryn. "Are you able to tell us anything that  might

help us find the Ryn we were supposed to meet here?"

Droma shrugged. "I can't tell you much more than I already have.  I  came

here to apply on behalf of my family. We wanted to become part of the  network

ourselves; we want to give something back to the people who helped us on Duro,

without compromising what it means to be a Ryn. I don't care what people think

of us; I don't want to be a hero. I just wanted to try to keep the clan  safe,

you know? I figure the more  friends  we  have,  the  safer  we  are.  If  the

ceiling's about to come down on us all, I'd like to have some company."

"So what happened?" Jaina asked.

Droma made a disappointed noise, deep in his throat.

"They heard me out, but said they had no vacancies in the organization at

this time-at least not where we were stationed. I said  we'd  be  prepared  to

move to somewhere we were needed, but they weren't interested."

"Would you be able-" Leia started.

"To identify the boss Ryn?" Droma finished, shaking his mane of wiry hair

doubtfully. "He's about as shy as they come. And  for  good  reason,  too.  It

certainly sounds like he and his network have been helpful to  you  and  other

people in recent times, and the Yuuzhan Vong aren't going to  like  that  very

much."

Jaina frowned. "So you can't tell us any more about them?"

"I would if I could, believe me. You helped me out, getting me off Onadax

like that. It was about to get real ugly down there."

"You  don't  know  anything  about  that,  I  suppose,"  Leia  said.  Her

expression was one of acceptance, as though she  finally  believed  the  Ryn's

story, but there were still numerous holes to fill.  "It  looked  to  us  like

someone was pulling up stumps and getting rid of the evidence."

"Evidence of what?"

"The network, I presume."

Droma shrugged again. "Sorry, but it's no business of mine. I'm just here

for the ride. If you could drop me off somewhere in the Juvex sector,  though,

I'd be extremely grateful. I can work my way back to the others from there."

"If we're going that way, sure," said Han.

"What do you mean, 'if?"

"Truth is, we don't really know where we're heading next," Han said.

Droma was looking at them as though they were speaking  Gamorrean.  "What

about Esfandia?" he asked. "You're going there, right? And  Juvex  is  on  the

way."

"Esfandia?" Han repeated, frowning.

"Esfandia is one of two small communications centers on the other side of

the galaxy," Leia said. "It services the Outer Rim. There used to be only one,

Generis, but another was brought on-line at the beginning of the war.

"Why would we go there?" Jaina asked.

"You don't know what's happened?" Droma appeared genuinely shocked.

"No," Jaina said. "What has happened?"

"It's only something I overheard while I was being interviewed," he said,

shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "A message came through while I was there.

They mentioned something about the head Ryn not wanting to do  anything  about

it, though, because he figured you guys would  have  already  heard  about  it

through official channels."

All eyes remained on Droma, waiting for him to explain.

"You seriously don't know what I'm talking about?"

Jaina took a step toward him. "No, we don't-and  if  you're  so  good  at

reading what people are going to say, then you'll know that I'm about to-"

"Jaina," her mother cautioned.

Droma chuckled at this, glancing at Han. "I see she's inherited the  Solo

temper."

"You can't even begin to imagine," Han said.

The Ryn turned from Han back to Jaina. "Generis has been destroyed by the

Yuuzhan Vong, and Esfandia is under attack."

"When? "Jaina asked,

"Yesterday, I think."

"What has this got to do with us?" Han  asked.  "I  know  these  sort  of

stations. If it's Outer Rim, it's probably automated, maybe staffed by a token

crew to keep things maintained. If the Yuuzhan Vong  have  attacked  it,  it's

already lost."

Leia shook her head. "Cal Omas beefed up the  defenses  there  before  we

left. It might still be holding on."

"And what if it isn't?" Han asked. "Does it  really  matter  if  we  lose

contact with part of the Outer Rim?"

"It's not just any part of  the  Outer  Rim,"  Leia  said.  "Generis  and

Esfandia are the only relay centers we have  servicing  the  Unknown  Regions.

Every communications signal to and from the Chiss  goes  through  there.  Take

them out and you effectively put the Unknown Regions out of contact."

There was a moment's silence as the implications suddenly sank in.

They'd been walking for more than two standard hours in virtual  silence.

Darak and Rowel, their Ferroan guides, stayed for the most part ahead of Jacen

and the others, rarely bothering to check that their guests  were  keeping  up

with them.

This wasn't necessarily a problem. There was more than enough to see. The

tampasi was vigorous and rich with  life.  The  trunk  of  each  boras  was  a

miniature ecosystem, supporting dozens of species of plants and  fungi,  which

in turn provided homes and food for brightly colored  insects.  These  insects

became prey for lizards and arachnids, which were eaten  by  birds  or  larger

animals still. Everywhere Jacen  looked,  he  had  the  feeling  that  a  tiny

universe had, just that second, stopped in the middle of furious  motion,  and

would start up again the moment he glanced away.

Danni had complained that it didn't make  sense  that  they  should  have

landed Jade Shadow so far away from their destination, but Darak had said that

their ship was not permitted in the airspace around  any  inhabited  area;  it

could interfere with the carefully balanced ecosystem of the planet.

That Jacen could understand. There was only so much wonder he could take,

though. His curiosity piqued by something his uncle had told him, he quickened

his pace to bring himself alongside Darak. She didn't turn to acknowledge  him

in any way, nor slow her pace.

"My uncle tells me that you remember Vergere," he said.

"Your uncle is mistaken," she said, keeping her gaze fixed  on  the  path

ahead. "I was a child when she and the other  Jedi  came  to  Zonama,  and  my

settlement half a world away."

The other Jedi... Jacen felt the tug of this revelation like  a  physical

force.

"Your people, then,"  he  persisted.  "You  know  of  her.  You've  heard

stories."

"Stories, yes. Bedtime stories for children."

He didn't let the Ferroan's frosty tone deter him. "I'm not sure  whether

you know it or not, but the Jedi were almost wiped out about fifty years  ago.

The ones who came here when you were a child would have been  trained  in  the

old ways. If we could learn more about them-"

"Not all were trained," Rowel put in. "One was an apprentice.  Strong  in

his fashion, but unrefined."

"What happened to them here?"

"We are guides," Darak said sourly, "not historians."

"I know, but surely-"

He stopped when a shadow passed over them. Glancing  up  into  the  upper

reaches of the boras, Jacen looked just in time to  see  something  large  and

dark pass overhead. It didn't stay in view long enough for  him  to  make  out

exactly what it was.

The others had stopped also and  were  gazing  upward.  Darak  and  Rowel

continued on unconcerned.

"What was that?" Jacen asked.

"A kybo," Rowel called back. "Their fields are nearby."

"Are they dangerous?" Mara asked.

"Hardly," the woman said. "They're airships."

Moments later they emerged from the dense tampasi into  a  clearing  that

was twice the size of the one in which Jade Shadow had landed.  Hovering  just

above the ground were  half  a  dozen  enormous  manta-shaped  dirigibles.  Of

roughly the same proportions as Millennium Falcon, but at  least  three  times

larger, they cast deep shadows across the meadow. Each kybo had  five  slender

lines anchoring it to gnarled roots that protruded from the ground, holding it

taut against the gently tugging winds that blew across the vast, grassy  area.

Beneath each hung a single bullet-shaped gondola with  two  bone-colored  fans

protruding from the rear.

Higher up, drifting over the tops of the enormous boras, Jacen could  see

a further three of the airships, as well as another one at the far end of  the

field coming in to land. Decorated in long, sweeping  stripes  of  purple  and

orange across rough white skin, the crafts stood out against  the  lush  green

backdrop of the tampasi.

Working around the area were  thirty  or  more  Ferroans,  some  carrying

baskets, some working on gondolas, others  securing  lines.  They  all  looked

incredibly industrious. "Couldn't we have traveled to your village in  one  of

these?" Danni asked.

The two Ferroans were already meters away from her after she'd stopped to

take in the sight.

Darak stopped to answer her. "These airships  are  not  transports,"  she

said. "They're harvesters. They are used to collect produce from the  tops  of

the boras."

Luke, Mara, Saba, and Soron emerged from  the  tree  line  together,  all

looking in wonder at the spectacle around and above  them.  They  moved  as  a

group over to where one man was working on repairs to a gondola that was lying

on the  grass  on  its  side.  The  accompanying  dirigible  floated  directly

overhead, its anchor lines creaking as the great balloonlike  structure  moved

in the wind.

Jacen felt confident stepping beneath the massive dirigible.  From  where

he stood, he could see that it was composed of dozens of smaller bladders full

of gas, each separated by thin membranes. For the craft to crash,  a  majority

of those bladders would  have  to  fail  simultaneously,  an  eventuality  too

unlikely to worry about.

Inside the gondola was dark and dank.  From  the  sunlight  available  he

could make out benches for sitting on as well as a  number  of  large  baskets

woven from vines, obviously for the harvested fruit. The sides were moist  and

ribbed, and he couldn't help thinking that to sit in one would have been  like

riding in the belly of a giant whaladon.

"Are you the pilot?" Luke asked.

"My name is Kroj'b," the man said. "I am her companion."

"Companion?" Mara said.

The man smiled, revealing an expanse of healthy white teeth. "We  have  a

symbiotic relationship," he explained. "I care for her and she cares for me."

Jacen realized only then that the dirigible wasn't just a balloon; it was

a living creature.

"What do you call her?" he asked.

The man smiled.

"Her name is Elegance Enshrined,"  he  said,  as  though  pleased  to  be

asfked.

Jacen nodded thoughtfully. "It's a good name; I like it."

"Your approval is neither sought nor required," Rowel said  from  nearby.

"You must come now. We still have a long way to go, and Darak will not wait."

In the distance, the female Ferroan could be seen  near-ing  the  distant

line of boras. Rowel  turned  and  moved  in  her  direction  also,  seemingly

unconcerned whether the others followed. As much as he  would  have  liked  to

have stayed and talked some more to this kybo's "companion," Jacen  knew  that

they had to comply with Rowel's and Darak's wishes if they were to ever  reach

their destination.

He and the others  continued  with  their  trek,  with  Danni  coming  up

alongside Jacen.

"It's all so amazing, isn't it?" she said. "There seems  to  be  life  in

everything around us. Everywhere we look!"

Jacen nodded, watching one of the kyboes skimming  the  tops  of  distant

boras. "It makes me feel very small," he whispered as  they  wound  their  way

alongside the massive boras trunks. Strangely,  though,  that  thought  didn't

bother him at all.

Back on Pride of Selonia, Jaina sat beside Tahiri through the  long  jump

across the galaxy. While Jag stretched his wings at  the  head  of  Twin  Suns

Squadron, she kept an eye  on  her  friend's  progress.  Although  by  medical

definition  Tahiri's  condition  was  supposed  to  be  stable,  Jaina  wasn't

convinced. Outwardly the girl appeared  okay,  but  below  the  surface  Jaina

sensed a terrible psychic disturbance that was only getting worse with time.

"Can't you feel it?" she asked Dantos Vigos, the Selonia's chief  medical

officer, a Duros with long, solemn features. Tahiri's skin was waxy and  pale,

and the scars on her forehead continued to burn. The  self-inflicted  ones  on

her arms had all but disappeared. "It's  as  though  there's  a  fire  blazing

inside her."

Vigos shook his head as he studied the girl's vital signs.  "She  doesn't

seem to be running a fever."

"I'm not talking about her body; I'm talking about her."

Vigos stared at her, his eyes filled with puzzlement.  He  was  a  highly

trained doctor with at least two decades of combat experience under his  belt,

and he wasn't the type to turn his back on any relevant information that might

help a patient. But clearly he was unable to grasp what Jaina  was  trying  to

tell him now.

"I'm afraid she's going to run out of  fuel,"  Jaina  mused  softly,  not

really talking to him anymore. "What happens then?"

She wished she had Uncle Luke or Master Cilghal  with  her.  They'd  know

what to do, she was sure. This wasn't her field of expertise; this  wasn't  an

enemy that could be squared up to  and  beaten  down.  What  tactics  was  she

supposed to use against an enemy that was trying to  take  over  her  friend's

mind? An enemy that came from within that thought it had as much right to that

mind as Tahiri herself?

"Jaina?"

She looked up, realizing the doctor had asked her something.

"I said, is there anything I can get you?"

Jaina shook her head.  Vigos  patted  her  shoulder  sympathetically  and

returned to his duties, leaving her once more alone in the room  with  Tahiri.

As much as she'd have liked him to stay and do something to help  her  friend,

she knew that in reality there was nothing anyone could do except stand around

and watch her decline.

No, Jaina thought resolutely. She wasn't about to let  that  happen.  She

refused to just sit holding Tahiri's hand  while  the  girl  battled  futilely

against her inner demons. That was as good as giving up,  letting  Riina  win.

Jaina had never before abandoned a friend in need, and  she  wasn't  about  to

start now.

The only question was: what could she do about it? Tahiri might be losing

a battle, but it was one she'd been fighting for years. Unknown to anyone, she

had been maintaining a delicate rearguard  action  against  the  Yuuzhan  Vong

personality thought expunged on Yavin 4. Only now were the cracks beginning to

show. If Jaina intervened, the facade might crumble completely, leaving Tahiri

exposed. It could be just as dangerous as sitting back and doing nothing.

There was no way for Jaina to contact the Falcon or  Twin  Suns  Squadron

for advice, either. While they were in hyperspace, it was up to  her  and  her

alone. She sat for more than an hour weighing up the possibilities-few  though

they were-all the while holding Tahiri's  hand,  feeling  the  Force  ever  so

slowly ebb from the young girl.

I don't care what her vital signs say, she thought. She's slipping  away.

I can feel it.

"What's our ETA?" she asked Captain Mayn via the room's comlink.

"Two hours until we're within sensor range of Esfandia," came the  reply.

"We're running on schedule, if that's what you're asking."

Two hours, Jaina thought. That could be easily  long  enough  to  make  a

difference.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on  forming  the  mind-meld  that  the

younger Jedi Knights used to share strength in battle. If  Tahiri  was  losing

the fight, perhaps all she needed was a little reinforcement...

Tahiri felt something sweep over her, as though  a  deep-ocean  wave  had

just rolled by. She didn't dare look around, though, for fear of giving  Riina

the advantage in their duel. Her world consisted of nothing  but  those  green

eyes and the harsh humming of  two  lightsabers  striking  at  each  other  in

imperfect synch. Fatigue ground painfully at every muscle in her body, but she

wasn't about to give in. She was determined not to allow  her  place  in  this

world to be usurped.

Parry.

But something had changed, and now primal instincts  were  whispering  to

her, warning of the dangers that this change would bring. She couldn't  afford

to allow herself to let her guard down.  Whatever  that  deep-ocean  wave  had

brought with it, she had to regard it as a threat.

Lunge, parry.

Did you feel that?

Although the voice came from her assailant, it reminded her too  much  of

her own voice.

I felt it, she replied, stepping to one side as Riina's lightsaber  swung

past. Do you know what it is?

Tahiri sensed Riina's uncertainty, and her hands  gripped  her  pommel  a

little tighter.

No, she said, taking the lightsaber in both hands and  bringing  it  down

toward Riina's head.

Riina  blocked  it  easily,  as  though  she'd  been  expecting  it.  The

lightsabers remained locked, crackling menacingly in  the  quiet.  Then  Riina

leaned in closer with a nervous half smile, and her green  eyes  fixed  Tahiri

through the glow of her weapon.

Something's coming, she whispered.  Tahiri  desperately  wanted  to  look

around. She felt as though the small of her back was on fire.  A  hole  burned

there from the stare of  an  unnamed  something  that  was  gradually  drawing

nearer. But how could she fight it if she took her eyes from Riina? Backpedal,

block, sweep. Riina leapt away, lightsaber poised defensively. We could  fight

it together, she said. Tahiri's body went cold as  suspicion  flushed  through

her. Why should I want to do that?

It's either that or stand here while it picks us off-first one, then  the

other. It would be as easy as hunting scherkilhla.

Tahiri's mind supplied her with an image of squat, flightless birds  bred

as a protein source on Yuuzhan Vong worldships. She forced it back down;  such

images, such thoughts, did not belong here. Stab, deflect.

She fought hard, fending off  not  just  the  lightsaber,  but  also  her

suspicions. Ally herself with Riina? That was

tantamount  to  giving  in!  She'd  been  subsumed  once  by  the   alien

personality, and only Anakin's intervention had saved her. She couldn't  count

on him a second time, since he was-

Her mind balked at the word as it rang through her like  a  funeral  bell

tolling:

Dead.

Anakin couldn't help her now, or ever. There could be  no  escaping  this

simple truth. She was on her own.

Slice, duck, swing.

A voice called out to her, carried on the dark wind that  blew  from  the

shadowed lands around them. It called her name, but stretched  out  over  many

agonized and tormented seconds, as though it were coming to her from far,  far

away...

Did you hear that? she asked Riina, beginning to feel truly frightened.

I heard it. Riina's voice was colored with relief. It's calling  you.  It

doesn't want me.

Why me? Tahiri demanded angrily, slashing viciously at Riina three  times

in quick succession. Why not you?

I don't  know.  Riina's  amusement  was  touched  with  uncertainty.  She

retreated with a jump that took her five meters away from Tahiri.

But you know it'll come for you afterward.

Kick, advance.

At least I won't have you at my back to worry about when it does!

Again the voice boomed out of the shadows, sounding like the first rumble

of a mighty wave crashing along the shore.

It's not honorable to keep your back turned to an enemy in a fight, Riina

said. Nor practical.

I can only face one enemy at a time, Tahiri responded, forcing Riina away

with a series of aggressive blows. She moved like she'd  never  moved  before,

dazzling herself

with the grace and power of her strokes. She was like Anakin, filled with

the Force, burning up in a white and brilliant fire.

The image brought with it memories, and  the  memories  in  turn  brought

emotions that she'd rather forget. She attacked  again,  even  more  viciously

than before. But in the end, all she succeeded in doing was to force  her  and

Riina into another deadlock. Eye to eye, barely centimeters apart, lightsabers

crossed between them, they stared at each other, frozen.

The voice called her name again, and this time it sounded much  closer-so

close that she could almost feel breath on her neck!

Without thinking, she turned to look. Darkness shrouded the world  around

her and Riina like fog, but to one side it was parting, and pale  light  shone

through the gap.

No! I won't let you kill us!

Riina flung Tahiri away from her and ran into the fog.  Startled,  Tahiri

fell to the ground, but in one bound was up again,  chasing  Riina,  following

her frantic footsteps. Whatever was coming for her out of  the  darkness,  she

didn't want to face it without knowing exactly where Riina was.

And what she was afraid of.

I won't let you kill us...

Riina's words haunted her as she  ran  through  the  darkness,  her  name

echoing once more from behind her.

Leia literally took a backseat during the flight to Esfandia.  Trying  to

compete with her husband  and  Droma  was  too  exhausting,  and,  ultimately,

pointless. At times it seemed their affinity wasn't entirely amicable, but  it

was perfectly natural. They'd hardly stopped talking since the  Ryn  had  come

aboard. Bringing each other up to  date  on  events  since  they'd  parted  at

Fondor, they covered

everything from sneaky tactics to Anakin's death. After the latter, Droma

had left the bridge for a while, to sing a plaintive lay in  a  language  Leia

didn't understand, but then he'd returned  with  a  story  about  one  of  his

exploits in the Senex sector. The tale was as tall as a Bolenian hill-spinner,

but it served its purpose by easing the pall of melancholy that  had  engulfed

the Falcon.

"So they started taking apart the tanker module,"  Han  was  saying  now,

relating one of his own stories to Droma, his mood far removed from the  grief

that had consumed him earlier.

"Which you said was filled with liquid hydrogen."

"Yeah, but destroying the tanker didn't stop the hydrogen.  If  anything,

it spread out a little, exactly as planned."

"Why?" Droma asked, frowning. "Hydrogen won't burn without oxygen."

"That's  what  Goldenrod  said.  That's  the  trouble  with  droids:   no

imagination. As our shields failed, I told  Leia  and  Jacen  to  punch  holes

through the cruiser's hull with our quads. Before I could tell those scarheads

to eat ions, there was more than enough oxygen for the hydrogen to react with.

The cruiser went up so fast we had a tough  time  dodging  the  pieces.  After

that, it was just a matter of getting out of there.  The  few  skips  we  left

behind weren't putting up much of a fight."

"Understandably. I hear Vong skips are useless once they're cut off  from

their yammosks."

"Well, they're not completely useless," Han said, "but it does  give  you

an advantage."

Droma shrugged. "Speaking of yammosks, I've heard some stories about them

that would make your tail stand on end!"

Leia listened to the banter but offered nothing toward the  conversation.

Instead,  she  concentrated  on  the  information  Droma  had  provided  them:

communications had

indeed been lost with the Unknown Regions. The destruction of the base on

Generis and  the  attack  on  Esfandia  appeared  to  be  the  source  of  the

disruption. A free-floating proto-world, Esfandia had long since cut free from

whatever star had given birth  to  it,  but  still  had  enough  radioactivity

bubbling in its core to sustain  a  liquid  atmosphere.  It  wasn't  the  most

hospitable of places, but it didn't need to be. A skeleton  crew  of  about  a

dozen people, mainly technicians, normally inhabited the relay outpost,  which

had been hastily converted from a scientific station at the beginning  of  the

war with the Yuuzhan Vong.  Since  Luke's  mission  had  entered  the  Unknown

Regions, the Galactic Alliance's military presence around  Esfandia  had  been

upgraded to two squadrons of X-wings and a frigate by the  name  of  Corellian

Way. What had happened to those forces was unknown. The relay staff  only  had

time to broadcast a message alerting their superiors on Mon Calamari that they

were under attack by the Yuuzhan Vong before all communications had been lost.

That wasn't necessarily a sure sign  of  disaster.  The  relay  base  was

designed to resist such attacks. Imperial AT-AT technology had been adapted to

the cold soup of Esfandia's environment, creating a giant,  mechanical,  crab-

like construction capable of moving from place to place at a slow  but  steady

pace. Such mobility was an advantage, given that most of the world was studded

with receivers sensitive enough to  detect  transmissions  from  deep  in  the

Unknown  Regions.  The  base  was  designed  to  circumnavigate   the   globe,

maintaining the receivers, while the technicians remained safely inside.  That

the ability to move made it easier to hide when attacked was a bonus.

The base, therefore, could have simply gone to ground, tucked away  in  a

crevasse or under the thick silt of the  atmospheric  soup.  If  it  could  be

found, it could be reactivated. Assuming, of course,  that  the  Yuuzhan  Vong

hadn't found it first and destroyed it for good.

Leia sent her thoughts outward, far beyond her  location  in  hyperspace,

beyond Esfandia and whatever awaited them there, to  her  brother,  Luke.  The

last message Cal Omas had received from him suggested he'd found  a  promising

lead and was setting off to investigate. He hadn't specified  what  that  lead

consisted of or where he was headed, and now there was no way they would  know

unless they repaired the communications outage. Leia had no doubt  that,  were

anything terrible to happen to him, then she would know about  it.  She  would

feel it, just as she had in the past. Nevertheless, she was concerned. So much

was invested in his  mission-personally,  and  on  a  galactic  scale-that  if

something  were  to  go  wrong,  it  would  be  a  disaster  of   unimaginable

proportions.

The conversation between her husband and his old friend  shifted  as  the

Falcon's console began to beep and flash, announcing that  they  were  nearing

their destination.

"Right on the nose," Han said proudly, flipping switches in readiness for

the return to realspace.

"And we didn't even have to get out and push," Droma said dryly.

"Yeah, that's real amusing," Han returned without smiling. "Now you  want

to move your funny, fuzzed-up self out of that chair so Leia can come  forward

and help me?"

"No, that's all right, Han," she said as Droma began to stand. "I'm  sure

Droma can manage."

She couldn't say that she was enjoying the break from routine, but it was

interesting to watch Han's interaction with the Ryn. Memories of the  terrible

time when Han had pulled away from her  while  grieving  for  Chewbacca  still

stung, but only Droma had witnessed how low Han had really sunk back then.  If

having the Ryn aboard did remind Han of  those  painful  times,  he  certainly

wasn't letting it show.

"You remember how to operate the copilot's board?"

Han asked Droma without looking up from what he was doing.

"Follow orders, and curse when something goes wrong," Droma replied  with

a smile. "Which it invariably does."

Han affected an indignant expression on behalf of his beloved  freighter.

"Hey, she may be old-"

"But she's still got it where it counts, right?" Droma said.

"What have I told you about doing that?" Han said irritably.

Droma laughed. "Anyway, it's not the age of the ship that worries me," he

said, flicking a couple of switches of his own. "It's the age of the pilot I'm

more concerned about."

The navicomputer bleeped, cutting off any  retort  Han  might  have  been

about to offer.  Both  faced  the  front  just  as  the  sweeping  streaks  of

hyperspace dissolved into a cold and distant starscape. There was  no  primary

to dim the stars with its glare; the nearest inhabited system in this  section

of the Mid Rim was more than ten light-years away, and the nearest star of any

kind was half that distance. There was nothing for trillions of kilometers but

space dust, and the tiny bauble that was the lonely world of Esfandia.

Or so it should have been. As Pride  of  Selonia  along  with  Twin  Suns

Squadron emerged from hyperspace alongside the Falcon,  Droma's  eyes  checked

the sensor console for the orphaned planet.  The  Falcon's  sensor  suite  was

still ahead of standard tech, and it soon acquired the target. It was  covered

with thick clouds, and glowed a burnt orange in artificial colors that  looked

wrong to Leia's eyes until she realized what was missing: because Esfandia had

no sun, its sole source of heat lay at its core. And with no orbit to  follow,

that meant it would have no seasons, either-which in turn meant no icy  poles,

and no broiling equator. It would be the same temperature all over.

Closer scans, however, revealed that not to be entirely the  case.  There

were at least six hot spots on the hemisphere facing them, and  even  as  they

watched, another blossomed into life.

Droma zoomed in closer to examine the cause.

"Aerial bombardment," he said. "Someone's dropping mines from orbit."

"They're taking out the sensors," Leia said. "The Yuuzhan Vong are  still

here!"

Han's eyes darted across the displays in front of him. "I've got a strong

presence in close orbit. Seven capital vessels, nine cruisers. Not many  skips

detached, though. No sign of the local defenses, or  the  reinforcements  from

Mon Cal."

"I think I can guess why not, too," Droma commented.

Leia knew exactly what he meant. The Yuuzhan Vong  force  in  orbit  over

Esfandia was enormous by any standard.  Against  the  two  squadrons  and  one

frigate Esfandia had possessed,  plus  the  two  squadrons  Mon  Calamari  had

dispatched to investigate, it was almost obscene. Overkill didn't cover it.

"I thought the Vong's resources were stretched," Droma said.

Han just grunted. A crackle of information flowed across  newly  reopened

communications lines. Captain Mayn and Jag were looking for instructions.

"Tell them to hold off for a moment," Leia ordered. "We can't go in  like

this. It'd be suicide."

Han turned in his seat to face her. "We can't just leave, Leia."

She nodded in agreement. "The  relay  base  must  still  be  down  there,

otherwise the Yuuzhan Vong wouldn't be wasting time taking  out  the  sensors.

Without the base, none of it would work."

"So what are we going to do?" Han asked. "They're going  to  see  us  any

second."

Leia stood to look over Han's shoulder, placing  a  hand  gently  on  his

neck. The Yuuzhan Vong forces were formidable. "If we can get past the capital

ships, we might be able to make it down into the atmosphere and find the  base

before they do."

"Then what?" Droma asked. "We'd be in exactly the same  position  as  the

base. It would just be a matter of time before they find us."

She could feel her frustration mounting as  a  solution  to  the  dilemma

failed to present itself. If they had to abandon Esfandia, they might still be

able to jury-rig another  relay  base  elsewhere  that  would  allow  them  to

reestablish contact with Mon Calamari.

She shook her head irritably. It would still mean leaving innocents  here

on Esfandia to die, and  the  thought  of  that  simply  made  her  feel  ill,

reminding her as it did of the time back on Gyndine, where so many had  to  be

abandoned to a cruel fate.

There has to be another way, she thought.

Almost in answer to the thought,  a  bleeping  sounded  from  the  sensor

suite, announcing hyperspace emissions from the far side of the planet.

"Incoming," Droma announced, his tail wrapped  around  the  base  of  his

chair, gently twitching.

"That's all we need," Han muttered. "Maybe  it's  time  we  bid  a  hasty

retreat, after all."

"Hold on." Leia switched vantage points to look over Droma's shoulder. "I

don't think they're Yuuzhan Vong.  Broadcast  an  emergency  on  the  Imperial

codes."

"Imperial-?" Han started, but clammed up  at  a  glance  at  the  scanner

display. The corner of his mouth curled up into a grin  as  he  sent  off  the

coded transmission. "Well,  I  never  thought  I'd  be  glad  to  see  a  Star

Destroyer."

Not just one of them,  Leia  noted.  Two  of  the  massive  vessels  were

lumbering out of hyperspace over Esfandia, fully equipped with support vessels

and TIE fighters already streaming from launching bays. The way  they  swooped

in to engage the Yuuzhan Vong filled her with an immediate sense  of  optimism

and kinship.

She didn't immediately recognize the markings on the Star Destroyers, but

judging by the blast scoring and other minor damage,  it  looked  like  they'd

both recently seen combat.

The Falcon's comm bleeped, and Han quickly  answered  it.  It  was  Grand

Admiral Pellaeon.

"I should have known I'd find  the  Millennium  Falcon  here,"  he  said.

"You're always at the heart of trouble."

Leia felt a smile creep across her face. "It's good  to  hear  from  you,

Gilad."

"As it is you, Princess," he said.

"That's not Chimaera you're flying," Han put in. "It looks too old."

"It's Right to Rule," Pellaeon said. "One of the  oldest  in  the  fleet.

We've been chasing this sorry bunch  halfway  across  the  galaxy,  trying  to

restrict the amount of damage they inflict. We lost them  at  the  last  jump,

which is why we've only just arrived. Our intelligence  data  on  your  remote

stations is sadly out of date."

"Not as good as theirs, obviously," Leia said.

"We're here to try to turn our luck around now."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Are you joining us?"

"We're at your command, Admiral." Leia said.

"I'll have targets for you shortly. Commander Ansween will relay them  to

you." Then, almost as an afterthought, the Grand Admiral added:  "Nice  to  be

fighting beside you finally, Captain Solo."

Han looked up at Leia when the line closed a moment later. "We're  taking

orders from an Imperial now?"

"Things have changed," she said. Her heart was telling her that  Pellaeon

could be trusted, and  the  Force  was  telling  her  the  same  thing.  "He's

defending a Galactic Alliance asset. Think how strange that must feel to him."

Han chuckled ruefully. "I guess. It's just that I've never been  one  for

taking orders-from anyone. I hope this newfound camaraderie between  us  isn't

going to make him think that's about to change."

Leia smiled at her husband; one hand fondly massaged his neck. "I'm  sure

Pellaeon's fully aware of that, Han."

The comm unit crackled back to life,  this  time  with  a  female  voice-

obviously the commander whom the Grand Admiral had mentioned.

"Your primary target is the destroyer Kur-hashan," she said. A  flood  of

charts and other data accompanied the message on the Falcon's monitors.  "This

is a yammosk-bearing vessel. Secondary targets are support vessels. Engage  at

will. Right to Rule out."

Han punched a course into the navicomputer. "You got that, Selonia?"

"Loud and clear," came back the voice of Captain Mayn.

"Jag?"

"Twin Suns awaits your orders, Captain," Jag said. He  sounded  calm  and

controlled, but underneath the cool exterior Leia knew he was primed and ready

for combat.

"Are we about to do what  I  think  we're  about  to  do?"  Droma  asked,

somewhat nervously.

"You're the one always second-guessing everyone," Han replied. "You  tell

us."

"It doesn't take much foresight to know we're  still  outnumbered.  While

it's nice that we  have  company  and  all,  it  still  only  makes  two  Star

Destroyers against sixteen of the big uglies."

I know," Han said, a wide, familiar grin  settling  onto  his  face.  "It

makes it so much more interesting when the odds are stacked against you, don't

you think?"

Part Two

Confrontation

Blood. That was the first thing Nom Anor noticed as he emerged  from  the

warrens under Yuuzhan'tar: not the sudden sharpness of light, or the wind,  or

even the towering remains of the planet's previous rulers. It was the smell of

blood, thick and heavy on the air.

He breathed in deeply, and smiled to himself.

The Prophet and his entourage were on the move again. Nom Anor, Shoon-mi,

and  Kunra  all  accompanied  Ngaaluh  as  she   supposedly   spearheaded   an

investigation into religious  corruption  in  the  renamed  Vishtu  sector  of

Yuuzhan'tar. Officials at all levels eased her passage. Her  sudden  notoriety

had preceded her: who better than a priestess of the deception sect to uncover

deception among the higher ranks?

Ngaaluh brought with her an extensive entourage of her own,  all  unaware

that she was in fact the servant of the  corruptor,  and  that  the  corruptor

himself moved among them. It was the perfect  cover.  Nom  Anor,  under  heavy

disguise, had taken the persona of a lowly worker, the next  rung  up  from  a

Shamed One. It was his job  to  supervise  the  care  of  the  baggage-vrrips,

massive six-legged bovine creatures bred purely to haul heavy loads from place

to place. The goods in Ngaaluh's case consisted solely of records,  plus  five

prisoners for interrogation. Nom Anor had  overseen  the  selection  of  these

prisoners. They consisted of would-be heretics: a handful who had  proven  too

unreliable or mentally unstable to be of any use to  him  or  the  cause.  Nom

Anor, in his guise as the Prophet Yu'shaa, had fed them  very  specific  lies.

Allowed to think that the Prophet had accepted them, these five had been  sent

out to spread a perverted version of the word  of  Yu'shaa.  Ngaaluh's  spies-

still faithful to Shimrra, and believing they  were  doing  the  will  of  the

Supreme Commander-had caught them in due course.  Interrogation  would  reveal

terrible secrets about Vishtu sector and the various officials who oversaw it.

Thus they did the work of Nom Anor by unwittingly spreading misinformation.

"Halt!"

Nom Anor whipped his vrrips into line as Ngaaluh's caravan approached the

entrance to Vishtu's command enclave. The clumsy entourage staggered to a halt

in a cloud of dust. Bugs swarmed around them, getting  under  hoods  and  into

clothes, driven mad by the smell of blood. Two warriors guarded the  entrance,

grotesquely armored and scarred in imaginative ways. One of them  growled  for

authorization, and Ngaaluh's chief  underling  presented  it  for  inspection.

Security was tight. Ngaaluh watched from an ornate seat on  the  back  of  the

largest  vrrip  as  one  of  the  guards  checked   and   double-checked   her

authenticity. Her expression was  one  of  weariness  -  appropriate  for  the

moment, thought Nom Anor, and probably quite genuine,  too.  The  journey  had

been long and tiring, even from the comfort of Ngaaluh's seat.

The guard expressed dissatisfaction with the authorization, much  to  Nom

Anor's  surprise.  It  was  the  one  thing  about  the  entourage  that   was

unquestionably genuine. An argument broke out between the  underling  and  the

guard, and Nom Anor craned to overhear what was being  said.  Had  the  guards

somehow learned of  the  Prophet's  imminent  arrival  and  stepped  up  their

vigilance?

Nom Anor caught the eye of Kunra, in the disguise of the caravan's junior

vrrip handler. He was unrecognizable beneath a mask of blasted tissue, heavily

scarred as though from extensive, nonritual burns. The ex-warrior  nodded  and

tightened his grip on the long, rigid whip that all vrrip handlers carried.

Before Nom Anor could edge closer,  a  mailed,  thorny  hand  struck  him

across the face. "This does not  concern  you,  worker,"  snarled  the  second

guard, whom Nom Anor had not noticed circling the caravan. "Do  not  interfere

in the matters of your superiors!"

Nom Anor kept his head low, partly as an act of obeisance,  but  also  to

hide any damage that might have occurred to the masquer hiding his real  face.

He also didn't want the guards to see the anger he could feel burning  in  his

chest-an anger and loathing that would have surely given him away as something

other than a lackey from the worker caste.

He had to contain his emotions. For all intents and purposes,  he  was  a

lackey, and given that station he could expect to be kicked and beaten at  the

whim of those above him.

He gritted his teeth  and  mumbled  something  suitably  obsequious.  The

warrior guard grunted and walked away.

"Are you all right?" Kunra whispered when the guards were out of earshot.

Nom Anor straightened and checked his features. His masquer  was  intact.

"I've had worse," he said, staring balefully after the guards.

That was true enough. Working up the ranks of executors had been  a  long

and painful process; he had received as many beatings as he'd  given.  Working

closely with the  pain-loving  Shimrra  and  his  coterie  of  sadomasochistic

warlords had kept him treading a tightrope between influence and agony,  never

knowing when he might find himself tipping onto the wrong side.

The thought warmed him that he would one day return every single  one  of

those indignities on those who had administered them. None  would  be  spared.

Every slight along that path to revenge only fueled  his  determination,  from

the lowliest guard to the high prefect himself...

Finally the guards called out for the gates to  be  opened,  pacified  by

their brief exercise of authority. Massive muscles strained under  the  effort

of opening the way ahead of Ngaaluh. The once artificial door had  long  since

been replaced by a swarbrik,  a  sturdy  organism  that,  if  attacked,  could

excrete a highly toxic gas and regenerate its tissues at a heightened rate. It

groaned as its keepers poked and prodded  it  into  activity,  slowly  obeying

their commands and allowing the caravan through.

Nom Anor cracked his long whip, and the vrrips grumbled into life.  Their

giant haunches rocked from side to  side,  and  Nom  Anor  forced  himself  to

concentrate on his hefty charges. He didn't have time to appreciate the moment

as the giant arch crept over him, and the road's dusty scent subtly changed to

give way to more exotic spices. For  a  minute  or  more,  his  concerns  were

focused solely upon the vrrips and his job. It was important, he knew, not  to

arouse any further suspicions. To  those  observing  him,  he  was  a  worker,

nothing more; no one should suspect for a second that  he  was  anything  more

than a lowly vrrip handler, shamed into submission.

Ngaaluh's expression didn't change once, not even as they passed a  wide,

dark pool where it seemed the swarbrik itself was bleeding. The  creature  was

sick, weeping from a dozen breaches in its thickened hide. Nom Anor could  see

no obvious cause of the illness. It was just another of the many small ways in

which the World Brain was still malfunctioning on the surface of  Yuuzhan'tar.

His smile returned beneath  the  masquer.  Perhaps,  he  thought,  there  were

advantages to living underground after all.

Jag didn't waste time questioning his orders; he was just glad to be  out

of hyperspace. While Pellaeon forced  a  wedge  between  the  planet  and  the

Yuuzhan Vong to prevent further bombardment, Jag drove the squadron he  shared

with Jaina like an arrow at the warship Kur-hashan.

"Twin Two, take Six and Eight around the  left  flank.  Three,  take  the

right with Five and Seven. The rest of you, with me."

Twins Four and Nine pirouetted neatly to create a V-shape with Jag in the

middle, moving in perfect synchronicity. He  was  beginning  to  forget  which

pilots were Chiss and which were Galactic Alliance  in  origin;  they'd  spent

enough time fighting together to have become one. To a  casual  observer,  the

clawcraft and X-wings may have  looked  different,  but  the  ships  in  their

crosshairs were the same.

The Yuuzhan Vong were just waking up to the fact they were  under  attack

from  two  sides.  Kur-hashan's  coral  arms  seemed  to   erupt,   dispensing

coralskippers like seeds to the  galactic  winds.  The  flat  ovoid  yorik-vec

assault cruisers-fast  but  low  in  firepower-swept  around  the  grotesquely

organic capital vessel to engage the attackers. Pride of Selonia powered in to

meet them, laser cannons blazing.

The normally dark environment of  Esfandia  was  soon  shattered  by  the

almost stroboscopic effect of all the ships' weapons firing,  while  screaming

engines cast cometlike sprays of energy across the starscape, bringing a false

dawn to all sides  of  the  planet.  Faster,  furious  specks  darted  by  the

thousands between the artificial and organic behemoths turning to battle. With

his sensors turned to maximum just to enable him to see the planet, the  light

flashing

around him soon overwhelmed Jag. It was as if he were seeing the universe

from a completely different scale, with the larger ships appearing as  quasars

and the smaller vessels swirling around  them  taking  the  role  of  galactic

clusters-all sped up so that trillions of years of motion was compressed  into

seconds.

A skip erupted into fire off to Jag's starboard, dragging  him  from  his

reverie. He silently chided himself; idle thoughts like that were dangerous in

combat.

"You want to watch yourself there, boss."

The voice belonged to the  Y-wing  pilot  whom  Twin  Suns  Squadron  had

recruited from Bakura. She'd proven more than capable in combat in  the  fight

against the Ssi-ruuk, and had volunteered to help fill some of the empty spots

created since the mission had begun. The pilot had jumped at the  opportunity-

and with the skip that had been about to attack him now a boiling mass in  his

wake, Jag was glad she had.

"Thanks, Nine," he said, swinging his reticle around  to  target  another

coralskipper. "That one must have crept up on me."

"There's another on your tail, One," said Four, retro-ing heavily to pass

under the Yuuzhan Vong fighter that Jag hadn't noticed coming in from  behind.

He pulled himself into a tight spiral and came out on a  completely  different

heading, seeing spots from acceleration. He ramped his inertial dampener up  a

notch and fired at a skip that flashed by with alarming suddenness.  His  shot

was casually soaked up  by  a  dovin  basal.  The  coralskipper  tailing  him,

however, wasn't so fortunate; it disappeared in a stuttering  flash  from  his

rear screen. He felt his claw-craft shudder slightly from the  shock  wave  of

the nearby explosion.

"Much appreciated, Four."

"You'd do the same for me," the Chiss pilot returned.

"Count on it," he said.

Ordinarily, Jag would never have permitted such casual banter  among  his

pilots. The Chiss were taught discipline before they  could  crawl.  But  he'd

found that, in this instance, with the squadron's mix of Galactic Alliance and

Chiss pilots, a small amount of informality helped everyone come together  and

function effectively as a team in the most  trying  of  circumstances-such  as

now, at three-quarters strength, and grossly outnumbered besides.

"Don't take any chances," he ordered his pilots. "We're here  to  protect

the Selonia. Besides the Falcon, we're all that stands  between  it  and  Kur-

hashan."

"Copy, One," came back Three, currently harassing a blastboat analog many

times its size. "Where is the Falcon, anyway?"

Jag scanned the displays before him, looking for  the  distinctive  disk-

shaped freighter. It wasn't immediately visible, and he didn't  have  time  to

look for it, as the Yuuzhan Vong resistance suddenly stiffened  and  he  found

himself in the middle of what seemed like three firefights  at  once.  A  grin

formed on his face as he put aside thoughts of the squadron in  favor  of  his

own survival. To Jag, there was nothing quite as satisfying as  confronting  a

worthy adversary. Until now, the Yuuzhan Vong fleet had  seemed  disorganized,

almost dispirited, and his pilots had managed to pick them out of the sky with

relative ease. But there seemed to be some spirit returning to  their  attack.

The advantage of surprise was well and  truly  gone.  His  mind  instinctively

probed at his enemy's weaknesses as he flew,  juking  and  firing  whenever  a

target appeared before him. If Pellaeon had been following  the  Yuuzhan  Vong

force before them, then that suggested it was the remains of  the  fleet  that

attacked Bastion and Borosk in Imperial Space. Partial  or  total,  it  didn't

matter: the Yuuzhan Vong had suffered heavy losses and, if

Jag had learned anything from watching the Galactic Alliance fight, there

would have been a significant  reduction  in  the  yammosk-per-fighter  ratio.

Alliance pilots seemed to have an instinct instilled in them: to  go  for  the

head whenever possible. Destroy the decision-making part of an  organism,  and

victory will soon follow.

Well, he thought, wherever the head was in this particular battle, it had

obviously decided to fight back. Coralskippers flew in sheets like  rain  upon

the attacking forces, delivering through  sheer  numbers  what  tactics  alone

could not. Galactic Alliance versatility beat Yuuzhan Vong methods most  times

in a one-to-one fight, and Esfandia was no different.  The  longer  it  stayed

ten-to-one, though, the less confident Jag was inclined to feel.

Yet the shift in emphasis on behalf of the yammosks  had  one  beneficial

side effect: while the focus of the  Yuuzhan  Vong  was  on  the  skies  above

Esfandia, little or no attention was paid to what was happening below. And  it

was only then, as Jag turned his attention briefly downward to note  that  the

Yuuzhan Vong bombardment of the planet had ceased, that he located  Millennium

Falcon. She was slipping unnoticed into the turgid, roiled-up  mess  that  was

Esfandia's atmosphere.

Jag had just enough time to wonder what Han and Leia  were  doing  before

the warship Kur-hashan cut off his view  of  the  planet,  blinding  him  with

violent splashes of energy.

Whatever they're up to, he thought as he rolled his craft away  from  the

incoming fire, I'm sure I'll find out soon enough...

When Ngaaluh was settled in her rooms, Nom Anor and his entourage slipped

away. Their places were taken by three Shamed Ones who served the Prophet,  so

their absence would not be noticed. That their appearances dif-

fered from Norn Anor and his advisers didn't matter -  Shamed  Ones  were

rarely looked upon with any scrutiny.

Deep  under  the  priestess's  quarters,  accessible  only  by  a  secret

passageway and passwords, were a series of basements that had been transformed

from the infidels' boxy tastes to something more organic; not  even  the  Jedi

philosophy could convince a Yuuzhan Vong to live in  a  lifeless  coffin.  Nom

Anor inspected the new audience chambers and  found  them  satisfactory.  They

were austere and secure, the only ostentatious  element  being  the  chair  he

insisted upon, placed on a podium so that  during  his  sermons  he  would  be

visible to all. The Prophet's role at the center of the  heresy  was  crucial,

and it was important to play it convincingly. Or  so  he  told  Shoon-mi.  His

enjoyment of the sense of power it gave him he kept carefully hidden.

After a hasty meal of raw hawk-bat, Nom Anor retired to a private chamber

to work on the heresy. The Jedi philosophy spreading among his minions was  an

evolving  thing,  requiring  constant  fine-tuning-especially  with  the  Jedi

Knights' continued resistance to Shimrra's attempts to have them  purged  from

the galaxy. But it was important that the faithful be restrained  from  acting

too precipitously when things appeared to be going well, just as  it  was  for

them to be given encouragement following any setback.  There  was  a  constant

need to balance conflicting factions and agendas, needs and objectives.

The minions he left in his wake played a key role in translating his will

into action. Some had been chosen by Shoon-mi for their  fanatical  dedication

to the Prophet, others by Kunra for their  clearheadedness.  Others  Nom  Anor

himself had selected, seeing in them a keen understanding  of  the  philosophy

itself. These subordinate  Prophets  served  as  direct  substitutes  for  the

Prophet Yu'shaa, for it simply wasn't possible to be everywhere at  once,  and

there were so many questions, so many things the heretics

wanted to know. What were the movement's goals, beyond obtaining  freedom

for the Shamed Ones? Was displacing Shimrra atop the Supreme Overlord's throne

a goal of the movement if Shimrra refused to accept their demands?  Would  the

Jedi Heresy replace the Great Doctrine as blueprint for  the  destiny  of  the

Yuuzhan Vong? Where did the old gods and ways fit in?

Nom Anor was wearying of such questions, but he knew that in them lay his

only chance of survival, let alone advancement. Spurned by Shimrra, he had  no

other way to attain power than through the tenets of the Jedi Heresy. That  he

didn't believe in them himself didn't matter  in  the  slightest.  That  those

below him did-with the assistance of the  subordinate  Prophets-was  all  that

mattered, wherever those beliefs took them.

He wasn't certain if the work he ordered would result in freedom for  the

Shamed Ones, even as a sideline. He was simply  using  the  movement  to  hurt

those who had hurt him, via terrorism,  political  assassination,  theft,  and

other means. He had been trained in covert activism; although his  skills  had

mainly been used to attack the infidels, they could just as easily  be  turned

against those of his own kind.

Sometimes, late at night, he wondered what the future held for him.  What

lay in store for the skulking yet all-pervasive figure of Nom Anor? Would  the

Jedi Heresy succeed in returning him to an honored  place  in  society,  along

with the Shamed Ones? Would he become lost behind  the  mask  of  Yu'shaa  the

Prophet, trapped by the very robes he had adopted as a means of escape?

Ngaaluh joined him when she was able, to discuss recent  developments  on

the surface. The priestess was clean and  smelled  of  incense,  but  she  was

clearly exhausted by a busy day, by maintaining  her  pretence  with  flawless

diligence.

"I hear word from Shimrra's court," she said, sinking

into a chair opposite Nom Anor with a weary sigh. "High Priest Jakan  has

assured His Dire Majesty that the fall of the heresy is imminent."

"Either he is overly confident or he is a fool,  then,"  Nom  Anor  said,

unmasked. Ngaaluh knew who "Yu'shaa" really was, but that  didn't  assail  her

belief in the Prophet. Her faith in the heresy was so complete that she had no

difficulties believing it could seduce even an  old  scoundrel  like  the  ex-

executor.

Ngaaluh nodded. "He is a fool. The heresy is too entrenched to be crushed

solely by optimism and good intentions. But he has plans."

Nom Anor smiled at this. He  toyed  with  a  coufee  while  they  talked,

slicing thin wafers off a twig of wax-wood and popping them one  by  one  into

his mouth. "How does Jakan intend to do away with me this time?"

"He is petitioning for a total ban on access to the  lower  levels.  Once

all authorized personnel have been evacuated, he proposes to release a  plague

of wild spinerays into the tunnels.  Shapers  will  increase  their  mobility,

fecundity, and appetite, so they will breed and kill, breed  and  kill.  Jakan

predicts that anything living down here will be destroyed within a  matter  of

weeks."

Nom Anor laughed out loud at the naivete of the plan. "And  who  does  he

think will destroy the spinerays when this is accomplished? Who will stop them

from escaping to the upper levels? The fool would throw the egg out  with  the

afterbirth if Shimrra let him."

"Another plan concerned pumping corrosive gas into the tunnels,"  Ngaaluh

said. "This failed on the grounds that the gas could eat into the  foundations

and bring the planet's surface down around us."

Nom Anor laughed  again.  "I  daresay  some  would  have  found  this  an

acceptable risk, nonetheless." He nodded thoughtfully as  he  slipped  another

slice of waxwood into

his mouth. "It is good they are desperate. It shows we must  be  worrying

them."

"I believe so, Master. The strength  and  rightness  of  our  convictions

undermines every move they attempt against us. They cannot destroy us."

"But that doesn't mean they won't continue to try."

Ngaaluh bowed her head. "This is true, Master. And I will  stop  them  as

best I can."

"How goes our plan?" Nom Anor asked, taking the opportunity to change the

subject to one of immediate concern. "Have you inveigled yourself  within  the

corridors of the intendant Ash'ett?"

"I have." She nodded, sending shadows across her angular features. "He is

exactly as you said he was: greedy and self-serving. He mouths  platitudes  to

the old gods and curses the Jedi, but would follow neither, given the  choice.

He is his own creature."

His own creature, Nom Anor  echoed  to  himself.  They  were  well-chosen

words, and would have served as a good description of himself,  too,  had  she

but known the truth.

"You agree, then, that he must fall?"

She nodded. "With him out of the way, there  will  be  room  for  someone

sympathetic to our cause. I will place the ones we have prepared in his staff,

and guarantee his destruction."

"Excellent." He nodded sagely, inwardly  crowing  with  delight.  Prefect

Ash'ett was an old rival, someone who had shown no compunction when it came to

squashing those around him in order to advance himself-Nom  Anor  among  them.

Like many of his old rivals, Ash'ett had risen to power on Yuuzhan'tar, taking

territory and glory as the opportunities arose during the fall of the  infidel

empire. Such power should have been Nom Anor's. Ash'ett's  time  of  reckoning

was long overdue, and would come with interest.

"I have identified another unworthy," Nom Anor said. "When  we  are  done

here, we will move to Gileng, where a certain Drosh Khalii has  grown  fat  on

the profits of war for too long."

Ngaaluh nodded again, her eyes gleaming in the yellow  lichen  torch.  If

she was daunted by the thought of having another  target  to  consider  before

this one had been eliminated, she didn't say.

"The hard work of revolution goes ever on," Nom Anor said.

"We are making progress, Master."

"Indeed." He resisted the urge to ask Where to?  "Do  you  have  anything

else to report?"

"Yes, Master."

"Tell me, then," he said,  offering  Ngaaluh  a  slice  of  waxwood.  The

priestess accepted it but didn't place it in her mouth straight away.

"I hear whispers in the court, Master," she said.

"That is not uncommon. At any given time,  there  might  be  hundreds  of

rumors crossing the galaxy."

"The name of the Unknown Regions, as the  Jeedai  call  them,  recurs  in

these rumors. The missions they speak  of,  however,  seem  unrelated  to  the

Chiss. Their focus is on something entirely different."

"Which is?"

"I'm not sure, Master. There are few details beyond what I have told you.

"

"Gossip," Nom Anor said, dismissing the news with a  wave  of  his  hand.

"Idle chatter among the ruling classes as they  seek  to  deflect  blame  from

themselves. I've seen it a thousand times before."

"As have I, Master - but these whispers persist. Something is afoot.  The

enemies of Shimrra are restless."

"Well, if so, perhaps  we  can  use  them  to  our  advantage."  Anything

distracting Shimrra from the heretics was a potential boon.

Ngaaluh slipped a piece of the waxwood between her tattooed lips.  "There

is a rumor I heard from a very reliable source of  a  mission  newly  returned

from the Unknown Regions. The mission had been gone an  extremely  long  time,

and its commander was surprised on  his  return  to  find  that  many  of  his

commanding officers had been replaced."

Not surprising, Nom Anor thought. The life  expectancy  of  the  warriors

decreased the closer one got to the top.

"Go on," he said, hoping the story would soon get interesting.

"The commander, one Ekh'm  Val,  sought  an  audience  with  the  Supreme

Overlord himself. He boasted of finding the lost world of Zonama Sekot."

"Zonama Sekot?" Nom Anor frowned. "But the living planet is nothing  more

than a legend."

"Not if this Ekh'm Val is to be believed."

"What happened when he spoke to Shimrra?"

"I don't know," Ngaaluh said, leaning  in  close,  her  eyes  glittering.

"That I haven't heard. Commander Val appears to have disappeared."

"Really?" Nom Anor was mildly intrigued now; he couldn't tell why Ngaaluh

was telling him this, but the story was an interesting diversion. "Perhaps  he

was lying and paid the price for it."

"Perhaps," she conceded. "But the rumor  persists.  There  may  be  truth

behind it."

"Do you think it is important?"

"My instincts tell me to listen. The Jeedai teach that  we  should  trust

those instincts."

Nom Anor almost rolled his eye. "By all  means  listen,  then-and  report

back to me if you learn anything of importance."

"Of course, Master. I am your obedient servant."

Ngaaluh smoothed her robe and waited for him to speak.

He took pity on her and tossed her a compliment  as  Shimrra  might  have

tossed the yargh'un a heretic for a snack.

"You're doing  excellent  work,  Ngaaluh.  Your  skill  at  deception  is

admirable."

Ngaaluh snorted. "It's all I can do to not cry out my  rage  against  the

atrocities that Shimrra commits upon the truth."

"Your perseverance does us all proud."

The priestess paused, turning the remaining waxwood between her  callused

fingers. "It is hard at times," she said.

"You should rest," Nom Anor said. Ngaaluh looked exhausted, physically as

well as spiritually. He, too, felt the need for stillness. While  nights,  per

se, might not have technically existed in the depths of Yuuzhan'tar, he  still

had to listen to his biological rhythms. "Go back  to  your  chambers,  before

you're missed, and get some sleep."

Ngaaluh nodded and rose painfully to her feet. "Our struggle goes well. I

have hope that we will achieve our goals soon."

He only nodded encouragingly, hiding  his  weariness  behind  a  careworn

smile. "Go, now, my friend."

Ngaaluh bowed again and left the room. Barely had she gone  when  a  soft

knocking issued from the door.

He sighed. "Yes?" he called, expecting it to be Kunra to  advise  him  of

the successful deployment of the fake heretics.

The guard outside opened the door  to  admit  Shoon-mi.  The  Shamed  One

peered cautiously into the room.

"Forgive me, Master, for visiting you at this late hour."

Nom Anor irritably waved away his lackey's concern. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if there was anything I can get you, Master."

"If there was, don't you think I would have called you?"

Shoon-mi nodded as he took a step into the  room.  "It's  just  that  you

didn't call for your evening meal. I thought that-"

"I wasn't hungry, Shoon-mi; it's as simple as that. I had work to  attend

to."

Shoon-mi executed a pious bow. "Forgive me, Master. I had only your well-

being at heart."

"It's appreciated," he said. "But now I really must rest."

"As you wish, Master." Shoon-mi bowed a third time, and went to leave. As

he was approaching the door,  he  turned  back  as  though  he  had  forgotten

something. "I have taken the  liberty  of  taking  your  masquer  to  have  it

refreshed."

"My masquer?" Nom Anor looked around at where it normally hung  with  the

others on stalks by his bed. Sure enough, the skin and features of the Prophet

were missing. "Very well. It was  starting  to  look  a  little  shabby.  Good

thinking, Shoon-mi."

"I shall have it returned to you in the morning, Master, in time for your

first audience."

Fatigue rushed through Nom Anor at the  thought  of  resuming  his  usual

routine so soon. Being outside had reminded him of how far he had  fallen.  He

may have risen on the back of the rising tide of heretics, but there was still

a long way to go before he could walk freely in the natural world.

"I'm sorry, Master," Shoon-mi said. "I am babbling while  you  should  be

resting. Are you certain that there is nothing I can assist  you  with  before

you retire?"

Nom Anor shook his head, waving his religious adviser  away.  "I  promise

you that I will call should I need anything, Shoon-mi."

With that the Shamed One bowed one last time and left.

The door clicked shut again, and Nom Anor threw the heavy bolt across  to

ensure he had no more interruptions. Outside, he thought he could hear  voices

whispering - Shoon-mi and Kunra, rapid and emphatic, as though arguing-but  he

didn't have the energy to listen in to the conversation. Let them fight  among

themselves, he thought, reclining on the bed with a chorus of creaking sinews.

At least it keeps them occupied.

Exhaustion carried him quickly into sleep, and once there he dreamed of a

man with a face more scarred than any he'd seen before, flayed and salted  and

left to fester. The nose was an open wound, and the mouth a jagged and lipless

mess. Incongruously, two red mqaaq'it implants stared out at  him  from  where

eyes should have been, giving the visage an air of authority.

The image snarled at him-and Nom Anor awoke to the realization  that  the

face was his own reflection, but the eyes belonged to Shimrra. He shuddered on

his narrow bed and pulled the covers tighter around him. Sleep,  however,  had

fled, and he lay huddled in silence until dawn broke, far above, and duty once

more called.

"Almost there," Han said, dipping the Falcon's nose a little deeper  into

the turbulent soup that was Esfandia's  atmosphere.  The  freighter's  chassis

shuddered under the extra forces she was being asked to bear. She  was  riding

the dense, frigid gases she encountered with all the grace of a ronto.

Leia clutched the sides of her rattling  seat  to  prevent  herself  from

being thrown to the floor, mentally keeping  her  fingers  crossed  the  whole

time. In the copilot's position, she did what she could to assist Han  in  the

"splashdown," as he'd called it. She'd never entered such a  dense  atmosphere

before, outside a gas giant. The situation was compounded by the fact that the

heat of the Falcon alone tended to make the bitterly cold, liquid air  explode

in new and turbulent ways around them as they  plummeted  groundward,  not  to

mention the various hot spots  left  by  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  bombardment.  She

doubted Esfandia had experienced such an input of energy for millennia.

"We're almost there." Han kept up the  litany  of  small  encouragements,

although Leia suspected he was talking to the ship  herself  rather  than  her

passengers.

They had made it past the Yuuzhan Vong fleet easily enough; in  the  heat

of the moment, one battered old freighter feigning a death  roll  would  never

warrant too much attention. From there it was just a matter of  getting  under

cover without displaying too many course changes.

"This is definitely one of your crazier ideas," Droma  said  from  behind

them, clutching both their seats for safety's sake. "If it's at all  possible,

you've actually become more reckless since last I saw you."

"I'm getting  us  through  this,  aren't  I?"  Han  said,  returning  his

attention to the task at hand.

"This far, yes," Droma said. He pointed to the viewport.  "But  that's  a

whole lot of murk to be lost in."

"We have a radar survey of the surface of the planet," Han  said  calmly.

"It's not as if we're going to run into a mountain or anything."

"So all we have to do is find the station; is that it?"

Han looked back at the Ryn, obviously  detecting  his  friend's  sarcasm.

"Something like that, yeah."

"Before someone sees the Falcon on their scanners and drops a bomb on us,

" Droma said.

"Or we lead them to the station ourselves," Leia added, following  up  on

the Ryn's point. The Millennium Falcon's engines would stand out like  a  nova

in the planet's cold atmosphere.

Han dismissed their concerns with a brief snort. "Look, all we have to do

is release  a  couple  of  concussion  missiles  along  the  way.  Their  heat

signatures will confuse the readings from  orbit,  right?  Besides,  the  Vong

mines have already stirred things up down here. Hot air rises,  remember.  Get

us deep enough and the upper layers will cover us quite nicely."

"Are you sure?" Droma asked.

"I'd bet my life on it."

"And mine." The Ryn tooted mournfully. "That's the problem."

"Hey, trust me, okay?" The ship glided  forward  in  silence  for  a  few

seconds before he added, "I know what I'm doing."

Leia clutched her seat even tighter, having heard those  words  from  her

husband all too often in the past. Han usually did know what he was doing, but

the ride was rarely an easy one.

"Now," Han muttered, "where do you suppose we should start looking?"

Leia peered ahead and saw nothing  but  blackness.  Through  a  low-light

enhancement algorithm on the displays she saw a featureless  orange  fog.  The

radar map, taken on a quick pass before dropping into the soup, suggested they

were crossing what resembled a vast arterial basin. But that wasn't  possible;

water had never flowed on Esfandia, except  within  the  communications  base.

These icy depths knew no life and, should the bubble of hospitality within the

Falcon be breached, it would kill them as soon as-

Leia jumped as something loomed out of the darkness, visible  only  as  a

bright orange splotch on  the  enhanced  display  and  shaped  like  a  large,

quivering flower. It was gone before she had a chance to make out exactly what

it was.

"What was that?" Droma asked, sounding as startled as Leia had been.

"I don't know," Han said. "And I'm not about to go back to find out. " He

arbitrarily set a reference grid  over  the  barren  landscape,  steering  the

freighter across it. "There's a series of deep channels just east of here. I'm

cutting our velocity and altitude to take a closer look.  When  we  reach  the

edge, Leia, I want you to send out a missile to cover our tracks, okay?"

"How many concussion missiles do we have?" Droma asked. "It could take us

forever to find this thing. "

Han shrugged. "It's a small world. "

"It's not that small. And remember, what makes it easier for us  to  find

them makes it easier for the Yuuzhan Vong to find us. "

"Then we'd better get started, hadn't we?" Han said. He swung the  Falcon

over a steep rise, then flattened out. "Ready with that missile, sweetheart?"

Leia was. On the radar map  ahead  she  saw  a  sharp  drop  approaching.

Targeting the orange void behind her and putting the missile on a timer  fuse,

she let it fly just as the Falcon dipped her nose and dived  deeper  into  the

frigid atmosphere. The missile shot off into the distance, its boiling wake  a

gently curving arc leading nowhere.

Han hugged the canyon wall as closely as he could while they  fell.  Leia

caught sight of two more of the odd  flower-shaped  objects  whipping  by  and

wondered what they might be. Pockets of gas? Crystal agglomerates?  Clumps  of

the local equivalent of  amoebas,  perhaps?  Whatever  they  were,  they  were

exceedingly delicate. In the rear view she saw nothing but  wisps  left  after

the Falcon had passed, and the fierce burn of  the  freighter's  engines  soon

evaporated even those.

The bottom of the canyon came with surprising suddenness. One moment they

were diving nose-first, the next Han had swung the Falcon around level.  There

was little change to the forward view.

"Cutting main drive, " Han announced. His voice seemed unnecessarily loud

in the almost deathly quiet of the cockpit. "Dropping back to repulsors. "

Leia kept her eyes on the sensors  as  the  Falcon  cruised  through  the

depths, but there was little to see. The canyon  floor  was  darker  and  more

barren than before. The ambient temperature had risen, although it  was  still

very cold. The surface of Esfandia was a strange  and  alien  place  that  was

unlikely to ever see the stars. Its stony ground could have been  composed  of

frozen carbon dioxide, and was twisted  into  peculiar  shapes  that  were  so

fragile that they would have probably  been  disturbed  by  a  single  ray  of

sunlight.

"Can anyone see anything out there?"

Han made a show of peering out the forward viewport, squinting as  though

this would somehow make the blackness outside easier to penetrate.

"Nothing, " Droma said softly. "How big is this base meant to be, anyway?

"

"Fifty meters across, " Leia said, "not counting its legs. "

"So if it was here, it'd certainly stand out. We might not be able to see

it, but we'd definitely get a solid ping off its hull. "

Leia nodded. "Even if it was buried, we'd spot it from up close. "

"Then I guess it's not here. " Han scrolled through the  radar  map.  "At

least not in this canyon. " His finger indicated a much larger  network  south

of their present position. "I propose we surface and try this one here. Unless

anyone has any better ideas. "

A sense of futility welled up inside Leia. She couldn't begin to  imagine

the number of possible hiding places there could be on Esfandia for  something

like a communications base. There were hundreds of  canyons,  and  probably  a

thousand times more fissures it could have slipped into. They could search for

months and not find it.

"Maybe we'll get lucky, " she said, more for her  own  sake  than  anyone

else's.

"Hold it, " Droma said. She looked around to the Ryn, waiting for him  to

continue. His head was cocked in a manner  suggesting  that  he  was  intently

listening to some faint and far-off sound. "There's something... "

"What is it?" Leia pressed.

"Are we scanning comm frequencies?"

"Across the dial, " Han said. "Why?"

"Turn up the gain. Listen. "

When Han did as he was instructed, a faint whistling became  audible.  At

first Leia thought it was just random noise, but a closer inspection  revealed

it to be chopped up into discrete fragments, almost like a-

"That sounds like a digital  transmission,  "  Han  said,  finishing  the

thought for her.

"Could it be the base?" Leia asked, mystified.

"I'm not sure, " Han said. "I can't get a fix on it. The signal seems  to

be coming from several places at once. We  must  be  getting  echoes  off  the

canyon walls. "

"It is a signal, though, right?" Droma asked.

Leia listened for a few seconds longer, then shrugged. "I don't recognize

the protocol. Han?"

Han shook his head. "It's all Kubazian to me. Where's Goldenrod? He might

be able to translate. "

"He shut himself down during the trip, " Droma said. "He's sitting  there

in the main hold with those Noghri bodyguards of  yours.  The  three  of  them

aren't really much for conversation, are they?"

"Well, don't just stand there  jabbering,  "  Han  said.  "Make  yourself

useful and go wake him up. And don't feel the need to be too  gentle,  either.

He should know better than to be snoozing at a time like this. "

On the contrary, Leia thought. The droid knew only too well that  trouble

would be awaiting them when they arrived at Esfandia. It invariably  was.  She

couldn't blame him for wanting to opt out every now and then.

Alone for a second, she turned to Han. "Do you really think this is going

to work?"

"It's worth a try. While everyone is distracted upstairs, it might be the

only chance we get. All it will take is for us to get lucky once. And if those

signals are from them, then-"

He was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. Droma leaned past  Leia  and

Han to point at a telemetry display.

"I think you should see this, " the Ryn whistled.

The display contained an image of the  flickering,  furious  web  of  the

space battle above, followed  as  much  as  was  possible  from  the  Falcon's

viewpoint.  The  view  showed  two  wedge-shaped  fighter  groups  darting  in

different directions away from the Yuuzhan Vong fleet. Imperial forces engaged

with one of them, but couldn't prevent them from reaching the atmosphere. Both

groups of Yuuzhan Vong fighters dipped under the fog and disappeared.

"Looks like we've got company, " Han said.

Leia wasn't surprised. It was only a matter of time  before  the  Yuuzhan

Vong tried the same tactic as they had.

"Why can't things ever be easy, Leia? Just for once it would be  nice  if

things went the way they're supposed to. "

Leia smiled. "Even if they did, Han, I'm sure it would just make you  all

the more suspicious. "

Everything around Saba burned with a bright, potent vitality.  With  each

lungful of air she took, she could feel the life force of the  planet  diffuse

into her blood and spread to all the cells in her body. The cycle of life  and

death was in constant play in the tampasi all around her.  Iridescent  insects

glided from branch to branch overhead, seeking pollen from the giant  drooping

flowers that grew there. Every now and then she would see  gangly,  six-legged

creatures leap out from the cover of the fat leaves to snatch at these insects

with unnaturally long and glistening tongues. These  in  turn  were  eaten  by

translucent, long-feathered birds that  appeared  and  disappeared  in  bright

flashes among the boras, their shrill calls  echoing  throughout  the  tampasi

whenever they successfully managed to catch one of their prey.

She couldn't get enough of it, no matter  how  deeply  she  inhaled.  She

wanted to ingest the whole world and become one with it. Soron Hegerty  walked

alongside her, talking about the Ssither, a saurian  race  the  biologist  had

studied many years ago, but Saba barely  heard  a  word.  Only  as  a  strange

darkness fell over them did she stir from her reverent daze.

She looked up, expecting to see another  airship  passing  overhead,  but

even as she did so she knew  that  this  couldn't  be  the  explanation.  This

darkness was too complete-as though  night  had  abruptly  fallen  across  the

world.

"What iz it?" Saba asked. The  others  were  all  gazing  up  in  obvious

concern.

"It's Mobus, " Soron Hegerty said. "We've fallen into its shadow. "

Saba understood. She didn't need to see the gas giant in the sky above to

know that the sun had slipped behind it as Zonama Sekot continued on its orbit

around the giant world. The animal life on the living world,  however,  didn't

know the difference between sunset and eclipse.

"We call it Sanctuary, " Rowel said. His gold-black  gaze  was  on  Luke,

glittering in the sudden twilight.

Again Saba nodded, understanding the Ferroan's misgivings. The people  of

Zonama Sekot had searched long and hard for somewhere to feel safe.  They  had

found it, finally, and now it had been invaded again. How would that feel?

They walked on through the tampasi, chilled by the unnatural darkness, as

hushed as the world around them. Despite  the  gloom,  their  progress  wasn't

impeded in any way. The lower branches of the boras  sprang  to  life  with  a

million  flickering  lights  cast  by  insects  nesting  there.  The  greenish

bioluminescence illuminated the tampasi floor with a  soft,  pale  light  that

allowed them to see where they were  going.  New  creatures  stirred  as  ones

accustomed to daylight retired for the duration of the eclipse. Saba held  her

breath as an entirely new ecosystem woke around her.

The sun returned as the ground party approached a Ferroan village an hour

later. Voices rose around her, and it was with no small sense of sadness  that

Saba realized that they had reached the  end  of  their  journey  through  the

tampasi.

"It's hard to imagine that boras could grow as tall as they have in  such

a short time, " Jacen was saying to  one  of  their  Ferroan  guides  as  they

entered the village. "Where I come from, trees like this would take  thousands

of years to grow. "

Rowel glanced at him, his brow pressed down in confusion. "Why would your

world take so long to yield its treasures?" he asked. "What is  the  point  in

holding back from your inhabitants if it means that most would never  get  the

chance to appreciate your beauty?"

Jacen smiled at this, and Saba sissed softly to herself. To Rowel, worlds

were thinking, living things, not just places to live. What most people  would

consider normal might seem odd to him.

Darak led them to a ring of brown, mushroomlike habitats clustered around

the base of a nearby boras. Each habitat had a central pillar  that  rose  two

stories high, and was capped with a roof that bulged out and then  down  until

it touched ground. The texture of the walls was  rough  and  flexible,  almost

rubbery, and the doorways and windows were rounded as though grown rather than

cut.

Grown, Saba thought, with the  faintest  of  misgivings.  After  so  long

dealing with the organic technology of the Yuuzhan Vong, anything that  worked

on a similar principle automatically triggered a negative reaction.

Darak led them to the largest habitat and waved them inside.

"We will meet in one hour, " she said. "At sunset. "

Without another word, Darak and Rowel withdrew, leaving the  visitors  to

make themselves at home.

The ground floor contained a number of seating mats  scattered  about  in

casual orderliness, along with several  tables  containing  bowls  and  plates

piled high with foodstuffs. The second floor grew out of the central stalk and

was accessible by a spiny spiral staircase.

"Fascinating, " Hegerty said, marveling at the habitat's architecture.

Saba's stomach growled; she stepped over to one of the tables and  dipped

a claw into a bowl of an off-white paste. She cautiously sniffed at it  before

tasting.

"Well?" Danni asked, coming up beside her. "What's it like?"

"Not obviously poizoned, " she said.

"I think if any harm was intended for us, " Mara  said,  "then  it  would

have happened before now. "

"Mara's right, " Luke said. "They could have killed us while we slept  on

Jade Shadow if they'd wanted to. "

Danni reached into  another  bowl,  this  one  containing  green  nutlike

pellets. She tasted one, nodding with surprised satisfaction to the others.

"It's good, " she said, trying some of the other foods.

Jacen, Mara, and Hegerty joined them at the table. Only Luke stood to one

side, looking out the window.

"It's clear that things have changed since Vergere was last here,  "  the

Jedi Master said after a moment. "We'll need to be on our toes. I  suggest  we

use this time to prepare ourselves for the meeting. "

While she agreed with Luke, Saba found it difficult to emulate  the  Jedi

Master's calm. They were on Zonama Sekot! How could she just push that fact to

the back of her mind and ignore it? She could feel  the  living  world  around

her; incomprehensible thoughts washed over her like ocean currents.  They  had

reached the place Vergere had sent them to find,  a  planet  that  could  well

prove to be the key to ending the war with the Yuuzhan Vong.

That the Yuuzhan Vong had also located the living planet, however, didn't

bode well. They had successfully achieved their goal-only to find  not  solace

from their concerns, but rather more problems. At  least,  she  thought,  they

weren't prisoners. The door hung invitingly open, and  there  were  no  guards

outside. This seemed strangely at odds with  the  distrust  the  Ferroans  had

displayed since the Jedi Knights had arrived.  Then  again,  perhaps  security

wasn't that much of an issue when you were on a planet that could keep a watch

on everything for you...

Jacen was about to try some more  of  the  food  when  he  noticed  three

childlike faces with wide eyes peering around the entrance to the  habitat  at

him. They disappeared with a giggle as soon as they saw him  looking  back  at

them.

"Nice to see that not all of the Ferroans hold us  in  contempt,  "  Mara

said at his shoulder.

He was about to agree with her when Saba uttered a low, perplexed  growl.

She was standing off to one side, staring out of one of the windows.

"Saba?" Mara said. "What is it?"

The Barabel shook her head uncertainly. "This one feels Sekot not just on

the surface of this world, but beneath it, too. "

"I've been wondering about that also, " Jacen  said.  "I'm  sensing  life

below us as well as around and above us. "

"You mean in subterranean chambers?" Mara asked.

Jacen shook his head. "In the rock itself. "

"That's not as crazy as it might sound, " Danni said around a mouthful of

berries. "Some species  of  bacteria  can  survive  a  long  way  underground-

kilometers, even. If Sekot arises out of the biological  matrix  covering  the

planet, then it seems reasonable that the life inside it contributes, too. "

"Which might explain the planetary defense systems we saw  in  action,  "

Jacen said.

"How, exactly?" Hegerty asked.

"Well, Vergere talked about biological factories  making  spaceships  and

other things, " he said. "Sekot clearly found ways to use the  technology  the

Ferroans brought with them when they colonized this world,  before  it  became

conscious. Since then, it's gone even farther. If life has  spread  down  into

the crust, and perhaps even deeper, then Sekot  could  conceivably  manipulate

the planet on a grand scale. "

"You mean like building a couple of immense hyperdrives, " Hegerty said.

"That, " Jacen said, "but also holding the surface together  during  long

jumps-or bending magnetic field lines at will. Jumping in and out  of  systems

must have been fairly traumatic; without something to keep heavy radiation and

gravitational effects at bay, the  surface  of  the  planet  could  have  been

totally sterilized. "

"What I want to know, " Mara said, "is where Sekot actually came from. If

life on this scale can evolve naturally, then why isn't every  planet  talking

back?"

There was no easy answer to that question.

"Perhaps  there's  something  special  about  the  Ferroans,  "   Hegerty

suggested.

"I'm not picking up anything radically different about them, " Luke said.

The Jedi Master opened his eyes, looking at each of  them  in  turn.  "They're

naturally attuned to the life fields around them, but not symbiotically.  That

would happen to anyone born and raised in an  environment  as  strong  in  the

Force as Zonama Sekot. "

"Perhaps it was just a random mutation, " Danni said. "If  the  odds  are

against something like this happening, then that might explain why  it's  only

happened the once. "

Luke nodded thoughtfully. "It's possible. I'm sure the Magister  will  be

able to tell us more. "

Jacen hoped so. When it came to Zonama Sekot, there were too many unknown

factors for his liking.

"Looks like you've made a friend, " Mara said, her voice whispering close

to his ear.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She indicated the entrance with a nod. Turning, he saw that  one  of  the

little girls had returned and was staring in at him again. When  she  saw  him

look at her, she waved shyly and then quickly ducked out of sight with another

giggle. Smiling, he went over to the doorway and  looked  around  outside  for

her.

The girl was standing near the base of a boras, ready to flee if she  had

to.

"What happened to your friends?" he asked.

"They're scared, " she said.

"There's no need to be, " he said. He extended his open hands  in  a  no-

weapons gesture. "See?"

She pointed at his belt. "What about your lightsaber?"

Jacen was surprised by the girl's knowledge of the weapon, but  he  tried

not to let it show. "You know about these?"

The girl nodded.

"And do you also know that I'm a Jedi?"

Another nod. "The older ones tell stories about the Jedi. "

"What do these stories say?"

She hesitated, looking around in a manner that suggested she was  worried

she might be seen talking to him.

"What color is yours?" she asked.

"Color?" Then, realizing: "Oh, my lightsaber? Would you like to see it?"

She shook her head in a definite no. "They're dangerous!"

"Not in the right hands, " he said. "I would never hurt  you,  or  anyone

here. "

She wasn't convinced. "Jedi Knights have other ways to hurt. "

"What do you mean?"

"Anakin killed the Blood Carver without a lightsaber. "

That pulled Jacen up with a start, and for a few seconds he  didn't  know

what to say.

Anakin killed the Blood Carver without a lightsaber.

The words sounded strange, no matter how many times he rolled them  about

in his head. How could his brother have ever  come  to  Zonama  Sekot  without

Jacen knowing? There was only one possible answer, and  for  a  joyous  moment

Jacen entertained the hope that Anakin had somehow managed to manifest himself

here in ghostly form-as had his uncle's teachers, Master Kenobi and...

Then the hope died as a cold feeling blossomed in his gut.

Anakin killed the Blood Carver...

"Tell me, " he said, trying to keep the urgency out  of  his  voice,  the

fear of what the truth might be. "What was the name of  the  other  Jedi,  who

came here with Anakin?"

"Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi. "

The child looked at Jacen as though he were an idiot, and he wondered  if

that was exactly how he should feel.

"Tescia!"

A woman's voice rang out, and the girl jumped back with a guilty start.

"Tescia, what are you doing? I told you to stay away from there!"

With a fearful look, the girl fled, leaving Jacen standing alone  in  the

doorway.

He watched as the girl disappeared into one  of  the  habitats  with  her

mother urging her on. Then, with a heavy heart and a sense of  foreboding,  he

returned inside to relate what to the others he'd just heard.

Gilad Pellaeon surveyed the battle from the bridge of Right to  Rule.  It

was going as well as could be expected. The chunk of  the  retreating  Yuuzhan

Vong fleet that he'd been chasing from  Imperial  Space  had  stumbled  across

Generis with eager destructiveness. He had been unsure what  their  intentions

were until he consulted old intelligence reports and learned that Generis  was

a relay base for communications between the  Unknown  Regions  and  the  Core.

Given the Chiss's isolationist stance, it had never been targeted for sabotage

by the Empire. Taken by surprise, there had been little  the  Imperial  forces

could do for the relay base. Generis had fallen,  and  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  had

moved immediately on to Esfandia, to repeat the insult.

Pellaeon didn't consider it anything more than  that.  The  commander  in

charge of the retreat, B'shith  Vorrik,  wasn't  a  sophisticated  strategist.

There was little chance of a trap, or of there being a higher purpose  to  his

strategy. The fact that  Luke  Skywalker  had  disappeared  into  the  Unknown

Regions on a secret mission just weeks earlier couldn't possibly be  connected

to the attack. How could Vorrik possibly know of the mission? And  if  someone

higher up did know about it, why should they even care?

Pellaeon smiled to himself as the battle ebbed and flowed around him. The

answer to the last question was probably the  key  to  the  mystery-if  indeed

there was one. Whatever Skywalker was up to, it was either totally  irrelevant

or absolutely integral to everything. There  was  no  chance  of  anything  in

between, he was sure.

And in the meantime lay the opportunity to return the insult...

"Watch the northern flank, " he instructed one of  his  senior  officers,

indicating a section of the battlefield where the Yuuzhan Vong  were  managing

to regroup. "Get a yammosk jammer in there now. I want  that  entire  side  as

chaotic as possible. "

He was under no illusions that they would win. All they  had  to  do  was

hurt Vorrik long enough to make him reconsider his attack, and/or  rescue  the

hardware and crew aboard the relay station. If they  were  alive  down  there,

then he would make sure they were found. He wasn't about to pull back until he

knew for certain one way or the other.

Pellaeon frowned, still concerned by the northern flank. Despite a  large

injection of TIE fighters and energy  fire,  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  persisted  in

gathering there. He didn't know what it was they were up to, but he  did  know

he wanted it stopped.

"Put me through to Leia Organa Solo. "

"I'm afraid Millennium Falcon has dropped off our screens, sir. "

"Destroyed?" He wasn't sure what he disbelieved more: that such  a  thing

could happen, or that he'd failed to notice it.

"Gone to ground in the atmosphere, sir. Or so we  suspect.  It  was  last

seen descending toward the southern pole. "

This would have placed the Falcon on the side of the planet farthest from

where the fighting was most intense, and therefore in the best position to  be

overlooked. He nodded, satisfied with the assumption that the Princess and her

rough-and-ready husband had plans of their own.

"Get me the commander of the Galactic Alliance frigate instead. "

Within seconds, a flickering, colorless hologram of  Captain  Todra  Mayn

stood before him.

"Your orders, Admiral?"

A certain stiffness to the woman's voice assured him that  past  enmities

between the New Republic and the Empire hadn't been completely forgotten.  But

she wasn't obstructing him, and that was the main thing.

"I have a mission for your strike group, " he said. "Can you spare  three

fighters?"

She looked reluctantly at the displays before her. "We will  if  required

to, sir. "

"But you don't wish to? " he asked.

A flicker of uncertainty passed across her  face.  "To  be  honest,  sir,

we're doing some damage on that warship. With just half a  squadron  to  watch

our back, I'm not sure we'd be able to effectively keep up the attack. "

"Don't worry, " he said. "I'll make sure you get backup. "

Pellaeon gestured to an aide and instructed her  to  assign  a  full  TIE

squadron to Pride of Selonia. Then he returned his attention to Mayn.

"So, Captain, do you think Galactic Alliance, Chiss, and Empire can  work

together?"

"I guess we'll find out soon enough, sir,  "  she  said.  "I'll  instruct

Colonel Fel to take his orders directly from you. "

"Very good. Carry on, Captain. "

The woman nodded a little less stiffly than before, and the  transmission

ended.

Pellaeon turned back to the fighting.

"Connect me to Colonel Fel, " he instructed his aide.

"Twin One, " came the almost instantaneous reply.

"Colonel, I have a mission for three of your best pilots, " he said. "The

northern flank is proving resistant to our tactics. I'd like you to  reinforce

the message we're trying to deliver. "

"Yes, sir. "

"There's a yammosk in there somewhere. We haven't been able to get  close

enough to find it yet, but we're working on it. When we do locate it, I'd like

you to keep it distracted. I want it out of the picture. "

"Understood, sir. " There was a slight pause. "Any further  instructions,

Admiral?"

"Such as?"

"Approach vectors, rendezvous coordinates, attack runs-"

Pellaeon smiled. "Why don't you just surprise me, Colonel?"

Jag frowned behind the controls of his clawcraft.

"Surprise you, sir?"

For a moment, Jag swore the Admiral  was  chuckling  -  but  that  simply

couldn't be possible. Grand Admiral Pellaeon-who had served under Thrawn,  and

who had almost single-handedly prevented  the  Imperial  Remnant  from  flying

apart in a thousand fragments-was not renowned for his sense of humor.

"Do you have a problem with that, Colonel?"

"No, sir. I just-"

"Then carry out your orders. We don't have time to debate the matter. "

The line fell silent, and Jag was left shaking his head.

Surprise me.

Those two words were anathema to everything he'd been taught at the Chiss

academy, and that the Imperials to a lesser degree espoused. Not only  was  it

dangerous to identify personally with one's role in a battle, but an  orderly,

coordinated offensive was the only way to ensure that such a  large  operation

could work effectively. Let every pilot go rogue and follow his instincts, and

the battle would quickly degenerate into chaos.

But it wasn't every pilot, he told himself.

Surprise me.

It was a challenge. His response wouldn't prove just his own  worth,  but

the worth of the Alliance and the Chiss forces as well.

The legendary Grand Admiral Pellaeon had asked him for a surprise. He had

an idea where to start:

What would Jaina do?

He pondered this while he got  the  basics  out  of  the  way,  informing

Captain Mayn of his decision to leave Twin Suns in Twin Seven's capable hands.

She confirmed her new role with a simple  affirmative.  With  Twins  Four  and

Eight trailing him, Jag swept away from the  dogfights  taking  place  in  the

vicinity of the Selonia.

Telemetry flowed in from the  Imperial  forces.  They  were  fighting  on

numerous fronts simultaneously, doing their best  to  keep  the  Yuuzhan  Vong

distracted from the relay base below. A large amount of wreckage-ranging  from

microscopic  dust  fragments  in  boiling  clouds  to  drifting  hulks,  their

biological systems spewing fluids and sweeping  the  space  around  them  with

strange gravitational storms as their dovin basals expired-had accumulated  in

the space around Esfandia. Some of it was already falling into the atmosphere,

slashing the dark, icy sky with brilliant streaks. Jag only hoped  the  Falcon

knew well enough to keep its head down.

Surprise me.

A Yuuzhan  Vong  corvette  and  a  cruiser  analog,  hugging  the  planet

jealously in a low orbit, dominated the northern flank. Presumably the yammosk

was in one of those two ships. Swarms of coralskippers were gathering to  them

like nanja flies to a thawing corpse. Outnumbered four to  one,  Imperial  TIE

fighters did their best to keep the alien warriors from  gaining  a  foothold.

Once  they  got  themselves  organized,  Pellaeon's  second  Star   Destroyer,

Relentless, would become vulnerable on that side, as would the  planet  itself

and the relay base with it. As it was, Pellaeon was only just managing to hang

on and avoid the Yuuzhan Vong pinning him down, and ending the battle once and

for all. And if the relay base was taken out, the battle itself  would  become

altogether meaningless.

Jag  could  see  the  importance  of  securing  that   section   of   the

battleground. But sending three fighters against a cruiser,  a  corvette,  and

countless fighters was madness of the first order. What was he supposed to do?

Ram the cruiser? He'd be lucky to get past the dovin basals! And  even  if  he

did, what would the momentum of one small starfighter do  against  a  ship  of

that size?

What would Jaina do? he asked himself again,  forcing  himself  to  think

laterally.

Then, unexpectedly, a creeping sense of unreality  spread  over  him.  An

idea had formed in his mind. A crazy and reckless idea that  seemed  perfectly

fitting. It certainly wasn't the sort of tactic he'd have  normally  employed.

It was, for all intents and purposes, surprising.

"Jocell, " he called to Twin Four, deliberately dropping the  formalities

now that it was just the three of them. "You in the mood to pick a fight?"

"Not sure exactly what you mean by that, sir,  "  she  replied  uneasily.

"But I'm always ready. "

"Not just any fight. " He scanned the region around the  northern  flank.

There: a dead gunship, drifting like a lost asteroid, its  biological  systems

slowly dying. Half the ship was black with fire; the other half radiated  heat

by the terawatt out into the sunless vacuum, chilling rapidly in the  process.

It was moving in an elliptical orbit that would take it in  the  direction  he

wanted. He nudged  his  vector  minutely  closer  to  it,  and  his  wingmates

obediently, and unquestioningly, followed.

"Now all we need are some skips. "

"I take it you have something in mind, sir?" asked  En-ton  Adelmaa'j  in

Twin Eight.

"I do, " he replied. He couldn't quite believe it himself, so  there  was

no point in attempting to explain it to them just yet. "Behave as normal,  and

don't be surprised if I go into a spin for no reason.  Just  cover  me,  okay?

Make sure nothing picks me off while I'm playing dead. "

"What if you are dead? How will we tell the difference?"

"In the long run, I think you'll know. "

He quickly double-checked the calculations.  Yes,  this  could  work.  He

wasn't used to relying on chance, but he was prepared  to  make  an  exception

here, and the idea of that gave him an unaccountable thrill. Not just  because

he would be surprising Pellaeon, either: it was also because he was surprising

himself.

As he angled his flight toward a knot of coralskippers harrying a  nearby

Imperial squadron, he sent  his  thoughts  out  to  Jaina.  He  wasn't  Force-

sensitive and he doubted she could hear him, but he was sure she'd understand.

Wish me luck, Jaina.

Then, gunning his engines, he swooped in to attack.

Jaina struggled through blackness. She had never experienced a  mind-meld

like this before. It was as though she were trying to swim  through  mud.  The

normally bright center of Tahiri's mind was muffled and distant, buried.

"Tahiri?" She called her friend's name as she searched ' for that  bright

center. Occasional flashes of memory and emotions lunged out of the blackness,

startling her. She saw two figures dueling in a place that looked disturbingly

familiar, glimpsed as though on a fogged screen. Then she  saw  those  figures

running, possibly hunting, lightsabers slicing bright swaths through the fetid

air. The light they cast  confirmed  her  first  impressions.  Even  with  the

prominence of shadows around them, she could tell where they were: it was  the

worldship around Myrkr; it was the place where Anakin was killed.

Vast statues loomed over them, offering razor-tipped tentacles in  return

for devotion; deep shadows hid hints of voxynlike monsters, and the air  stank

of death and grief. The moment she'd melded with  Tahiri's  mind  and  stepped

into the young Jedi's private torment, Jaina had been inundated with  memories

of the pain she'd felt when Anakin had died, and the  grief  she  had  endured

afterward. The inner landscape reflected all of these dark  emotions  back  at

her; every craggy shadow seemed to emanate all  manner  of  negative  emotion:

grief, anger, fear, betrayal, loneliness...

These were all things she couldn't allow herself  to  be  distracted  by,

though. She had to stay focused, to help as she could. She could play no  role

in whatever fantasy Tahiri was embroiled in, but she could offer strength.

As another image flashed through the darkness, though, she wondered  whom

exactly she was giving strength to.

Tahiri's scarred,  grim-faced  mirror  image  had  murder  in  her  eyes.

Although Jaina knew it to be Riina whom Tahiri was fighting, or  hunting,  she

kept seeing Tahiri. The only way to separate them was by the  hand  that  held

the lightsaber: in the real world Tahiri was  left-handed,  while  Riina  held

hers in her right hand.

"Tahiri? Can you hear me?"

Jaina wanted Tahiri to know that she wasn't alone; that help was at  hand

if she needed it.

Grishna br'rok ukul-hai, a voice snarled in her mind. Hrrl osam'ga  akren

hu-akri vushta.

"I don't understand, " Jaina said into the void.

An image came of Tahiri's face lunging out of the darkness, eyes  glaring

with hate. She flinched. Not for the first time, Jaina wondered if she was out

of her depth. Psychic healing  was  Master  Cilghal's  field,  not  hers.  Her

intentions were good, but that wasn't enough.

7 think it's time to get out of here, she thought.

When she attempted to  break  the  meld,  however,  she  found  that  she

couldn't. The illusion of the worldship seemed to close in around her like the

walls of a cage, and she realized with alarm that she was trapped.

Ash'nagh vruckuul urukh, mocked the voice of Riina from the shadows.  Esh

tiiri ahnakh!

Jaina saw an image of Tahiri hunting her shadow flashing out of the void.

Jaina quelled a sense of dread and frustration rising in her. There had to  be

something she could do. She just hoped she could find it in time...

Luke's thoughts should have been clear when the time came for the meeting

with the Magister, but instead they were an untidy tangle.  Ever  since  Jacen

had told him about his encounter with the young Ferroan  girl,  that  was  all

he'd been able to think about.

Anakin killed the Blood Carver without a lightsaber...

He could understand Jacen's initial confusion.  At  first  he,  too,  had

assumed that Tescia had meant Anakin Solo. But he knew that  wasn't  possible.

Luke's youngest nephew had never come to the Unknown Regions, and he certainly

couldn't have kept his encounter with a living planet a secret if he had.  No,

the girl had clearly been referring to Luke's father. Before Zonama Sekot  had

vanished into the Unknown Regions, Anakin Skywalker must  have  come  here-and

he'd come with Obi-Wan Kenobi. Why they had done  so,  though,  Luke  couldn't

imagine. To look for Vergere, perhaps? In search of the same thing she'd  been

after: the planet's biological technology? And what had happened to them here?

What did it mean that the boy had  killed  a  Blood  Carver  without  using  a

lightsaber? That he had used the power of the dark side?

Without more information, it was all just speculation.  Nevertheless,  he

found it difficult to turn his thoughts away from the  matter.  His  mind  was

still spinning with possibilities when Darak and Rowel finally came to  inform

them all that it was time.

Luke took a deep, calming breath and let himself be led with  the  others

from the habitat. Night had fallen, turning the tampasi into a vast,  starless

space that chattered with half-heard rustlings and strange calls  from  unseen

animals. The only light came from balls  of  bio-luminescence  balancing  atop

slender stalks. Standing a meter taller than Luke, they cast a bright greenish

glow across the undergrowth. A double row of these  light-stalks  led  a  path

around the bulk of a nearby tree, a path that Darak and Rowel took them  along

without ceremony or conversation. Far above, where they'd  been  tethered  for

the night, the massive shapes of the kyboes shifted restlessly in their sleep.

The light-stalk path wound through the trees for several  hundred  meters

before culminating in a large, bowl-shaped depression. There,  gathered  in  a

circle, a dozen Ferroans awaited them. Standing in the center of these was the

black-robed  figure  of  the  Magister.  She  bowed   her   black-maned   head

respectfully as they entered the natural amphitheater. The  Ferroans-four  men

and eight women-offered no such gesture; they just stared at the visitors with

undisguised suspicion and hostility.

Darak and Rowel guided the group to the center of  the  depression,  then

stepped back to stand symbolically at the end of the  path  that  had  brought

them there. The Ferroans now surrounded them: to leave the meeting place  they

would have to break the circle.

When all was still, the Magister spoke.

"Once again the Jedi come to us, " she said. Her voice was soft,  like  a

cool breeze on a hot night, but it carried clearly to  those  gathered  around

her. "As always, you bring more questions than answers. "

"We are here to answer those questions, " Luke said,  wondering  why  the

Magister looked different. Her presence in the Force was strong, but much more

muted than it had been on the landing field. The  impression  nagged  at  him,

even as he put it aside to concentrate on the conversation. "There are many we

would ask of you, too. "

She inclined her head slightly, then straightened. "There are some  among

the council who would have me ask Sekot to send you away immediately. You come

to us, by your own admission, as harbingers of doom. I have heard it said that

you are more than that; that you bring a direct and deliberate  threat  to  us

and to our way of life. "

"What do you mean?" Jacen asked. "We haven't made any threats. We mean no

harm. "

"Three times, now, we have  had  to  defend  ourselves,  "  the  Magister

explained, "and  each  time  Jedi  were  present.  You  cannot  blame  us  for

wondering: is it the circumstances that attract you, or are the  circumstances

a result of your visits?"

"Magister, " Luke said, "if  these  attacks  upon  you  are  in  any  way

connected to our being here, then I assure you  it  is  unintentional  on  our

part. The Far Outsiders arrived before us; we had no idea they would  be  here

until we arrived. Their presence here is a mystery to us. Perhaps we can solve

it together, if you allow us to. "

"How would you have us do that?"

"We begin by talking. As I have said before, we are here to  discuss  our

common enemy-the ones we refer to as Yuuzhan Vong. It is  a  long  story,  but

perhaps in its telling you will come to see the truth of what  I  say-and  the

sincerity of our intentions. "

The Magister pondered this  for  a  long  moment.  Again  Luke  sensed  a

fundamental difference between their first  meeting  and  the  present.  Where

before she had been curious about the  Jedi,  welcoming  them  cheerfully  and

openly, now she seemed wary and protective. He wondered what had  changed  her

mind.

Her gaze swept the visitors gathered before her. With a slight  nod,  she

seemed to come to a decision.  Her  legs  folded  beneath  her  and  she  sank

gracefully to the ground. Her robe pooled around her on the soft undergrowth.

"My name is Jabitha, " she  said.  "We  shall  hear  your  story.  "  She

indicated for Luke and the others to likewise sit upon the  grass.  The  other

Ferroans, perhaps pointedly, remained standing. "Sekot  invites  you  to  talk

freely. "

Luke took a deep breath, and began. He started from the time the  Yuuzhan

Vong had first come to the attention of the New  Republic  on  Belkadan,  when

Danni Quee had witnessed the launch of their invasion. The grim progression of

the war was burned in his mind:  from  Sernpidal,  where  Chewbacca  died,  to

Helska 4, Dubrillion, Destrillion, Dantooine, Bimmiel,  Garqi,  Ithor,  Obroa-

skai, Ord Mantell, Gyndine, Tynna, Fondor  and  its  shipyards;  Kalarba,  Nal

Hutta, Nar Shadaa, Sriluur, Druckenwell, Rodia, Falleen,  Kubindi,  Duro;  the

Jedi academy lost with Yavin 4, Ando, Myrkyr,  where  Anakin  Solo  fell,  and

Coruscant, the capital, where for a while all hope seemed lost.

He talked about the hundreds of billions of  deaths  across  the  galaxy,

trying to capture in words how it felt to watch everything he had  loved  slip

away-not just the government he'd helped form from the ashes  of  the  Empire,

but also the principles on  which  it  had  been  based.  As  the  Senate  had

dissolved into bureaucracy and corruption during the last days  on  Coruscant,

he had seen former allies turn against each other, driven by  fear  and  self-

preservation-but in the end only hastening the Yuuzhan Vong's steady march.

He  talked  about  biological  technologies,  and  the   Yuuzhan   Vong's

philosophy of pain and sacrifice. He described worlds succumbing to  insidious

growths, free people plucked from their homes and turned into blaster  fodder,

spies sent to disrupt the peace by spreading lies about those encouraging  the

survivors to band together against the enemy. He talked of desperation and  of

genocide, of plans to end the oppression that were rooted  in  the  very  same

evils, of the Jedi's hope to find a middle ground, to keep the people  of  the

Galactic Alliance free of the stain of mass murder. He spoke of his  love  for

Ben, and his hope that his son might one day grow to know a peaceful life in a

galaxy in which war was not the norm.

"What does this have to do with Zonama  Sekot?"  the  Magister,  Jabitha,

asked when Luke had finished. "What is it that brings you here,  so  far  from

your home, from your war?"

Jacen took up the thread of the story to answer her question.

"We have come here because my teacher, Vergere, advised that  the  answer

to our problems might lie on Zonama Sekot. " He  described  their  mission  to

find the living planet through the Unknown Regions, not omitting  the  defense

of the Empire or the tense internal conflict  in  the  Chiss  territories.  He

followed their path through the Chiss library, tracing legends  and  folktales

of the wandering planet. He successfully evoked the despair they'd  felt  when

it seemed that the living world might  slip  through  'heir  fingers,  despite

their best efforts. The realization that Zonama Sekot might be masquerading as

a moon rather than an independent planet, he told Jabitha, had been the key to

resolving the mystery. The location finally found, they'd set off  immediately

from Csilla to find their objective.

At the conclusion of his speech, Jabitha frowned, confused, and shook her

head. "But this still does not explain why you  are  here.  In  what  way  did

Vergere expect us to be able to help you?"

"That's what we're here to find out, " Mara said.  Luke  could  feel  her

impatience kept carefully in check. The attitude of the Ferroans  had  rankled

her from the start, but he trusted her not to say anything precipitous.

"We are but one world with a small population, " Jabitha said. "What  can

we do against this invading horde you have described?  Our  strength  lies  in

defense, not offense. "

"That may be so, " Danni said, "but if we'd  had  your  defenses  at  our

disposal in the first place, we may have stood a better  chance  of  repelling

the Yuuzhan Vong at the borders of the galaxy. "

The Magister's frown deepened. "Your words make it sound as though Zonama

Sekot is all-powerful. But this is not so. Although  it  did  once  manage  to

repel the Far Outsiders, it was not without suffering major damage to  itself.

The attack traumatized it greatly. Our defenses are not  impenetrable.  "  She

looked down at her feet, then back at Luke. "You should know that the conflict

you witnessed has also scarred Sekot deeply, mentally if not  physically.  The

appearance of the Far Outsiders came  as  a  terrible  shock.  Sekot  was  not

anticipating them; there was no reason to suspect that they were nearby.  They

tried to study us without being noticed, but our sensors  are  acute.  Sekot's

defenses were activated, and the Far Outsiders  took  that  as  an  aggressive

reaction. They, too, reacted defensively. It is not clear who struck the first

blow. The conflict was sparked by fear and uncertainty, as many conflicts are.

We do not wish to be party to another such conflict. "

"I understand, " Luke said, although there was much about  the  situation

that remained mysterious. He had assumed that the Yuuzhan Vong had opened fire

on the living planet, as they had once before. "We would  not  want  to  place

Sekot in any more peril than it already faces. But you must be aware that  you

are in peril already. The Yuuzhan Vong have stumbled across Zonama Sekot twice

now, on different sides of the galaxy. They are not so many  that  this  could

have happened by chance. " Although he lacked hard evidence  to  back  up  the

claim, Luke pressed on with the point. "They must be looking for you-and  they

will keep looking until they find you again. If so much as one  ship  survived

the fleet that found you this time, they will descend upon you en  masse,  and

you won't be able to defend yourselves."

The Ferroans shifted restlessly,  unnerved  by  the  image,  but  Jabitha

didn't flinch from it.

"And what would you have us do?" the Magister asked Luke. "You  speak  of

consciences, of right and wrong, and of the horrors perpetrated upon  you  and

the galaxy by the Far Outsiders. You speak of their  wish  for  genocide.  And

yet, do you not wish the same for them? Do you not wish them removed from  the

galaxy as they wish you?"

"Absolutely not, " Luke said. "We have, in fact, fought hard  to  prevent

just such an outcome, " he added, the horror of  the  Alpha  Red  virus  still

fresh in his mind.

"The Yuuzhan Vong aren't all warriors, " Jacen said. "They are women  and

children, too. They are slaves, and outcasts,  and  scientists,  and  workers.

They have as much right to life as we do. There is no question about that. "

"Then why have you come here? What possible help can we give you?"

"We must work together to find that out, " Luke said.

"Must?" Jabitha echoed. "It is true that all have a right to life. It  is

also true that everyone must decide  what  to  do  with  it.  Sekot  chose  to

distance itself from the rest  of  the  galaxy  when  our  attempts  to  trade

peacefully were met by aggression and suspicion. We have suffered  greatly  to

find peace. Why must we suffer again on behalf of those who do  not  have  the

fortitude to free themselves?"

"Because the living Force requires it, " Jacen said.

Jabitha's eyes flashed at Jacen. "What is that? You dare presume to speak

for the Force?"

Silence fell around the amphitheater. The air  was  thick  with  tension.

Luke could feel the situation rapidly slipping from their control. In the hope

of rekindling the welcome they  had  first  received  from  the  Magister,  he

decided to try another tack.

"You say that you have been attacked three times, " he said. "We know  of

two instances, both perpetrated by the Yuuzhan  Vong.  Were  they  behind  the

third, too?"

"No, " the  Magister  said.  "That  force  consisted  of  forces  of  the

Republic, led by a Commander Tarkin. "

Luke's eyebrows raised slightly.  That  was  a  name  from  the  past  he

recognized only too well. "Is that when you fled? When you went into hiding?"

"Yes. "

"And that was the same time the  Jedi  were  last  here?"  he  persisted.

"After Vergere's visit?"

"Yes. "

Luke detected a slight softening of Jabitha's expression.  That  was  the

encouragement he had been hoping for.

"Tell me about them, " he said. "Tell me about Anakin Skywalker and  Obi-

Wan Kenobi. "

The silence seemed to stretch forever. It felt to Luke as though everyone

had stopped breathing.  Even  the  soft  night  breeze  rustling  through  the

branches above seemed to stop.

"They came looking for Vergere, " Jabitha said eventually. "And they came

out of curiosity, wondering at the living ships we once sold to a select  few.

Under the guise of clienthood, they passed a testing ritual designed to see if

they were suitable for partnership  with  one  of  our  ships.  The  youngest,

Anakin, was a mystery to us all. Normally, during  the  ritual,  three  or  so

seed-partners would bond with the client to form the  basis  of  a  new  ship.

Anakin drew twelve to him. His ship was a thing of beauty. "  Jabitha  paused,

her gaze distant as though recalling long-forgotten times.  "The  Force  shone

brightly in Anakin. He was, briefly, my friend. "

A strange feeling crawled into Luke's stomach. "You met him?"

"He saved my life, " she answered. "And he revealed to me the truth about

my father. "

The words that Jacen had told him  about  the  Blood  Carver  once  again

echoed in Luke's mind.

"There was a Blood Carver, " he prompted.

"An assassin sent to kill Anakin, " Jabitha explained, nodding. "He  used

me to gain leverage over Anakin, and Anakin became very angry. He killed  with

the strength of his mind. Until that moment, we had not known that such things

were possible. "

"They are possible, " Luke said, ignoring the  emotions  pouring  through

him at the revelations concerning his father, "but killing  out  of  anger  is

wrong. The power of the dark side is seductive and dangerous.  The  Jedi  have

never countenanced its use. "

"Yet Anakin used it. "

Luke tried to find the words that might easiest convey Anakin Skywalker's

fate. "It came at a cost, " he said after some reflection.

Her gaze focused on him, sharp as a Tusken Raider's  gaderffu.  "You  are

his son, aren't you? And I don't just mean that because  you  share  the  same

name. He is in you. " She faced Jacen. "And you, too. "

"He was my grandfather, " Jacen said; Luke just nodded.

"Sekot recognized the echoes of my friend in you both when you came here.

That is in part why you were allowed to land. But you dismiss Anakin's actions

as though they were an aberration, a mistake. We do  not  remember  them  that

way. He loved our world, and we will not allow anything you say  to  damn  his

memory. "

"The dark side is the dark side, " Mara pronounced. "If you'd met  Luke's

father when he was older, you wouldn't be so quick to defend him. "

"That Anakin did what he did out of good is more important to us than the

means he chose. He was a child, and you will not damn him for  that  here.  He

saved me. "

Luke countered her defensiveness with a calming gesture. "It is true that

I once abhorred all my father stood for, but I have not held such thoughts  in

a long time. You see, he saved me, too, when the  Emperor,  his  Sith  Master;

tried to kill me. I no longer wish his spirit ill  will;  his  name  lived  on

through my family, who found no shame in it. I would count a friend of  Anakin

Skywalker a friend of mine, were I permitted to.  "  He  held  Jabitha's  gaze

without flinching. " But the shadow of Darth Vader, the man he became when  he

embraced the dark side, still hangs heavily over us. We have fought  long  and

hard to free ourselves from his oppression-and we will not succumb to the same

mistake he made in order to fight the Yuuzhan Vong. That would make a  mockery

of everything my father stood for, at the beginning and end of his life. "

Jabitha bowed her head in acknowledgment of his short speech, but whether

he'd convinced her or not was uncertain.

"It is late, " she said. "You have had a long journey and must be  tired.

If you will allow us, we will provide you with shelter for the night. "

Luke felt disheartened. "Does that mean that our discussions  are  at  an

end?"

"I need time to talk with the council. " Jabitha indicated  the  ring  of

stony-faced Ferroans standing around them. "We will  take  into  consideration

all that has been said here this night and decide  whether  or  not  there  is

anything more to discuss. "

"Then I advise you to consider very carefully, " Mara said. "The  Yuuzhan

Vong don't keep treaties, and they don't take prisoners. If  they  do  overrun

this galaxy, then they  will  ultimately  destroy  you,  too.  No  matter  how

powerful Sekot thinks it is, no matter how far it runs, it won't  be  able  to

hold them off forever. And it'll be too late then to look for allies,  because

we'll all be dead. "

"My wife's words are blunt, but truthful, " Luke said. " If you have  any

doubts about the Yuuzhan Vong's motives, we can show you the  history  of  the

war in more detail. "

"That won't be necessary, " Jabitha said. "We feel that we understand the

nature of your foe well enough. " The Magister's expression was one  of  great

weariness, and again Luke was struck by how different she  seemed  from  their

first meeting. Then she had been vital and energetic; now  she  looked  tired,

drained.

"We will talk again in the morning, " she said, standing  and  indicating

that they should, too.

With a gesture, Darak and Rowel stepped back, offering an exit  from  the

circle. Luke would have liked to say more, but he knew that to push now  would

be to jeopardize their chances with the Magister.  So  he  inclined  his  head

slightly in a tight, polite bow and led the way from the natural amphitheater.

The others followed suit. Once / they were clear of the circle,  the  Ferroans

silently closed up behind them. Looking back, Luke saw Jabitha standing  again

in the middle, her eyes seeing  worlds  he  doubted  he  could  even  hope  to

comprehend.

Tahiri rocked back on her heels as her mirror image abruptly spun  around

and confronted her.

It's here!

What is?

The shadow!

Tahiri looked around her, but could  see  nothing.  She  and  Riina  were

momentarily united by their mutual fear of the thing that had come  for  them.

Tahiri felt her strength leach out of her at the thought  of  coming  face  to

face with it. She was tired of fighting. If she let go now, she might  finally

join Anakin in another world, another life. And perhaps in that other life  he

could find a way to forgive her...

You could help me fight it, Riina whispered close to her ear.  Stand  and

help me kill it.

How?... Tahiri started, but didn't know how to finish the question.

You fought before, Riina said. You held your  own  against  me.  You  are

strong.

Tahiri shook her head. She wasn't a warrior at heart. She'd tried  to  be

one once, but it had cost her the one thing she'd truly loved. It had cost her

Anakin; it had cost her a family.

I was never strong enough to destroy you, she said.  /  could  only  bury

you.

You weren't trying to destroy me, Riina said. You were trying to  destroy

yourself.

Tahiri wanted to deny the accusation. But the scars on her arm burned  in

support of Riina's argument.

And you know I can never let you do that, Riina said.

Why not? Tahiri asked, her face flushing with shame.

Because I don't want to die with you.

But you're already dead! You are a cold and cruel death  that  constantly

sits inside me!

And you are the cold death that envelops me, Riina responded,  her  words

in Tahiri's ear as rough as a sandstorm. We are bound  together,  you  and  I.

This is a fate we must accept.

I accept nothing!

Riina stepped up to Tahiri, her footsteps sounding  loud  in  the  hollow

silence that had descended around them.

Don't you think I would give you the death you desire if I  could?  Riina

said. But we are bound together. You must see that! I could no  more  live  in

this body without you than you could without  me.  I  cannot  give  you  death

without embracing it myself-and I am not ready to do that!

Tahiri felt her world shifting around her. She wanted the words to refute

Riina's claim, but in the end there were none.

This can't be happening, was all she could manage in way of a defense.

It is, Riina said. And you must accept it.

Tahiri shook her head. I can't.

Then you leave me no choice.

Riina took two steps back and raised her lightsaber horizontally in front

of her. Tahiri tensed in anticipation of a  blow  that  never  came.  Instead,

Riina's blade flashed upward, spinning high into the blackness and  casting  a

bright blue light across the  surrounding  ruins,  causing  shadows  to  dance

around them. Openmouthed, Tahiri followed the lightsaber's flight  in  fearful

silence.

As the blade came down again, Riina reached out to catch it. Tahiri could

tell straight away that the Yuuzhan Vong girl had misjudged the  descent,  but

she seemed incapable of calling  out  to  warn  her.  She  just  stood  mutely

watching on as the bright blue blade slashed Riina's hand and  then  clattered

to the floor.

Then, from somewhere far away, almost smothered by a  terrible,  blinding

pain, Tahiri heard herself scream.

C-3PO cocked his golden head.

"You hear that?" Han asked.

"Of course, sir, " the droid said. "The signal is quite clear. "

"We haven't been able to locate a source yet; the atmosphere  appears  to

be carrying it a long way, and spreading  it  out  in  the  process.  But  the

important thing is, can you translate it? And don't bother telling me how many

languages you speak. The only person in the room who hasn't already heard that

spiel a thousand times is Droma, and he's not easily impressed. "

"As you wish, sir. "

Leia suppressed a half  smile  as  C-3PO  nodded  stiffly.  The  warbling

transmission issued from the cockpit speakers with liquid clarity.  Millennium

Falcon's audio scrubbers had managed to remove much of  the  background  hiss,

along with the increasing electromagnetic noise from the battle  taking  place

above the planet. If C-3PO couldn't translate it, no one could.

While the droid was busy with this task, Han angled  the  Falcon  up  and

over a ridge, diving deep into another trench. Droma, in the  copilot's  seat,

fired a concussion missile at  a  distant  mountain,  in  the  hope  that  the

resulting explosion would cover their tracks.  Thus  far  there  had  been  no

attempt to interfere with their progress across the surface  of  Esfandia,  so

they had to assume that the tactic had thus far worked.

But there had been no sign of the relay base, either. Wherever it was, it

had dug in deep and wasn't moving.

"The transmission appears to be in a very strange form of trinary machine

language, " C-3PO said, his glowing photoreceptors  gazing  off  into  distant

semantic landscapes. "The grammar is inconsistent, and  the  vocabulary  quite

peculiar. I am quite certain, though, that this is the source language. "

"Is it coming from the relay base?" Han asked over his shoulder.

"I don't think that's terribly likely, sir, " the droid said. "Not unless

it has taken to talking to itself. "

"There's more than one signal?" Leia asked.

"I have identified at least seventeen. "

"Seventeen?" Han repeated. "That's impossible. "

"They could be decoys, " Droma suggested, "laid out across the surface to

misdirect the search. "

"What's the point of that if you can't find a single decoy? The  way  the

atmosphere spreads these frequencies, we'd  be  lucky  to  bump  into  one  by

accident. "

Droma shrugged. "It'd keep us busy, though. And the Yuuzhan Vong. "

Leia thought of the strange, flowerlike formations the Falcon had  passed

through earlier, and an uneasy thought suddenly occurred to her...

"These transmissions, " she  said.  "Are  they  all  using  an  identical

variation on that trinary code?"

"No, Mistress. Each transmissions source has its own unique variation. "

"What's the point of that?" Han said.

Leia waved him silent. "And what are they talking about, exactly?"

"It's difficult to  say  with  any  precision.  Some  of  the  nouns  are

unfamiliar to me, and the modifiers have mutated in ways that defy-"

"Your best guess will do, " Han interrupted.

"There seems to be a lot of talk about the battle, " the  droid  returned

after  listening  to  the  signals  for  a  few  seconds.   "The   atmospheric

disturbances are severe in some areas, and it  would  appear  that  the  local

flora has suffered catastrophic damage. "

"Did you say flora?"

"Indeed, sir. The ecosystem of this  world  is  another  major  topic  of

conversation,  particularly  among  those  whose  food  supplies   have   been

threatened. "

"Food supplies-?" Han glanced at the forward viewport. It was  black  and

lifeless outside. Even using enhanced vision, the surface  showed  no  obvious

signs of any biological activity. "Are you saying that the things making these

signals are alive?"

"Why, yes, sir. I had assumed you already suspected this. "

"But how is that possible in an environment like this?"

"Life has been found before in atmospheres of similar constitution,  sir,

" C-3PO lectured. "It could have evolved here in the planet's early days, when

the heat from the core was much more intense. Single-celled  life-forms  could

easily have evolved, perhaps larger organisms also. "

"But you're talking intelligent life, " Han protested. "Things  that  can

talk!"

"Indeed,  sir.  It  is  also  possible  that  these  life-forms  are  not

indigenous to Esfandia. "

"They could have been imported here?" Leia asked. "Where from?"

"From wherever it was they evolved, Princess. "

Han raised his hands in frustration. He looked at  Droma  as  though  for

support.

"I guess it makes sense, " the Ryn said. "If  life  was  going  to  exist

here, it would have to be scattered; a low-energy world couldn't  support  too

dense a population. They would have to use a form of communication that  could

reach long distances, and comm frequencies give them that. "

" But trinary code?"

"I think someone taught them to speak that way, " Leia said.

Han's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Someone on the relay team?"

"Past, if not present. The language has had time to change, after all.  "

She turned to C-3PO. "Do you think we could communicate with these creatures?"

"I can see no reason why not, Princess.  We  know  the  frequencies  upon

which they communicate, and I am fluent in an  approximate  version  of  their

language. "

He leaned forward to speak into the communicator.

" Low power only, " Han said, letting the droid  through.  "And  if  they

can't tell us anything about the relay base, we're not going to sit  here  and

chat. We're not the only ones listening. "

C-3PO performed the droid equivalent of clearing his throat, then warbled

a series of strange, fluting tones  into  Esfandia's  dense  atmosphere.  Leia

tried to discern a pattern to it, but it was pointless. To her ears it sounded

like three deranged flutists bickering over which melody to play.

When it was done, C-3PO straightened in satisfaction.

"I have broadcast a request  for  information  on  the  location  of  the

vrgrlmrl. "

"Verger-what?" Han said.

"Vrgrlmrl: the relay base, " C-3PO repeated casually, the burbling phrase

rolling effortlessly from his vocal box. "If they reply, we will know-"

He paused as a stronger signal from the comm filled the cabin.

"Oh, my, " the droid said, looking almost anxiously to the others  around

him. "I fear something got lost in translation. They misunderstood my  request

for information as an invitation. "

"An invitation to what?" Han asked.

" I'm not sure. But if I may try again, sir, I might-"

"Spare us the details, " Han said. "Just get them talking. "

C-3PO burbled out another string of nonsensical  sounds.  The  reply  was

immediate, although this time it was as if  multiple  voices  had  joined  the

conversation. And if before it had sounded like three flutists bickering,  now

it sounded like the entire orchestra had gotten involved in the argument.

Droma had his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to keep the cacophony

out. "I haven't heard anything like this since I  attended  a  benefit  for  a

tone-deaf Pa'lowick - and boy, those guys could wail. "

"Are you getting anything useful?" Han asked, rapping on C-3PO's  bronzed

casing.

The droid broke off his conversation. "Indeed, sir. For the most part the

Brrbrlpp, as they call themselves, are a sociable species, and  are  happy  to

talk. They are familiar with the relay base, but will not reveal its  location

until they are certain we mean it no harm."

"Well, then, what are you waiting for? Reassure them, already. "

"I have already done so, sir, but I'm afraid it will take more than  that

to convince them. " C-3PO hesitated, looking to each person in the cockpit.

"What is it, Threepio?" Leia asked.

"Well, Princess, it seems that in  the  eyes  of  the  Brrbrlpp,  we  are

murderers and therefore untrustworthy. "

"Murderers?" Han rasped. "We're not the  ones  bombarding  their  planet.

We're trying to stop it!"

"It's not the bombardment that concerns them, sir.  They  claim  that  we

have killed fifteen of their people since we arrived. "

"What? When are we supposed to have done that?"

"They say that the voices of their friends were silenced when we  crossed

their paths."

With a sickening sensation, Leia thought  again  of  the  strange  flower

shapes  that  had  brushed  by  the  Falcon,  dissolving  in  the  freighter's

turbulent, superheated wake.

"Stop the engines, " she told her husband.

"What? Leia, you can't be-"

"Do it, Han, " she insisted. "Switch off the repulsors -  everything.  Do

it now before we kill someone else!"

Han complied, although it was clear from the expression on  his  face  he

didn't understand why. The Falcon settled slowly to the bottom of the  trench,

and when a quiet had washed over the ship, Leia explained her theory  of  what

these aliens were.

"We  didn't  know,  "  Han  said,  pale-faced  at  the  idea  of   having

inadvertently killed so many intelligent beings. "Tell  them  that,  Threepio.

Explain to them that there was no way we could have known. "

"I will try, sir, but I don't think it will make much difference to their

feelings toward us. "

"There has to be something we can say to change their minds. "

Leia put a hand on her husband's shoulder as, out of the darkness, one of

the flower shapes drifted toward them. Now that she could see it properly, she

saw how its edges rippled to provide motion, moving it through the atmosphere.

A ring of photosensors studded  its  interior,  along  with  radial  lines  of

swirling cilia. Behind  the  cilia,  through  the  creature's  semitransparent

flesh, she could see a  complicated  skeleton  keeping  the  alien's  "petals"

rigid, as well as gently pulsing darker patches that might have been  internal

organs. And behind all that, tapering off  into  the  distance,  was  a  long,

whiplike tail.

There was no sense of up or down, or of a face, and yet she knew  it  was

watching them.

"Can they hurt us?" Droma whispered, as though worried the creature might

overhear him.

"I doubt it, " Han said, but he didn't sound confident.

Leia felt a faint rippling through the Force as a second alien joined the

first. It was in turn quickly joined by a third. There was no doubt  now  that

they were alive. More came, wafting in on the  heavy  currents  of  Esfandia's

atmosphere, until the ship was surrounded by a ring of mysterious flowers.

We killed their friends, she thought bitterly to herself. We killed their

family.

Somehow she didn't think that sorry was about to make up for that.

Saba smelled the thunderstorm long before she  heard  it.  Her  sensitive

nostrils twitched at the moisture on the air, filtered through the tampasi and

redolent with spores and sap. Within minutes  she  could  hear  rain  sweeping

across the treetops, driven at a  sharp  angle  by  powerful,  gusting  winds.

Before long she could hear the sound of the water escaping  the  boras  leaves

high above and trickling down in streams to the ground.

The Ferroans had provided their guests with rolled-up sleeping  pads  and

thick, coarse blankets. Following a light supper, Jacen, Danni, and  Mara  had

decided to take advantage of the situation and rest, while  Master  Sky-walker

and Doctor Hegerty stayed up to talk. Saba stayed awake, also,  despite  being

tired. She still didn't completely trust their hosts, and wanted to keep watch

for the others. She remained on her pad the entire time, with eyes closed  and

ears opened,  listening  to  everything  happening  around  her-including  the

conversation between Master Skywalker and Hegerty.

"-mentioned the Potentium to Jacen, " Master Sky-walker was saying.  "She

didn't give him many details, though, and I've never heard of it. Have you?"

"No, " the elderly human scholar replied. "But mind you, the study of the

Force isn't really my field. "

"What about the Ferroans, then? Is there anything about them you think  I

should know?"

"Well, I'm sure you've noticed their intolerance toward us, " the  doctor

said. "Not that I  can  blame  their  suspicion.  They've  been  contacted  by

strangers six times that we know of: three times by Jedi, including us;  twice

by the Yuuzhan Vong; and once by Tarkin and his  Old  Republic  forces.  Three

times they've been attacked, and each time it happened, the Jedi  were  there.

Once you could forget; twice you could forgive; but three times?"

"I know what you mean, " Luke said. "I  can't  blame  them,  either,  for

thinking that way. But it's our job to  change  their  minds.  Otherwise  this

whole quest will have been a waste of time. "

Rain crackled gently on the roof of the  mushroomlike  habitat,  although

inside was warm and dry. Saba could feel  faint  tendrils  of  life  trickling

through its capillaries. It seemed to like the rain, and much  of  the  warmth

was generated as a result of the pleasure it felt.

They talked further, but Saba was finding herself more and  more  seduced

by exhaustion and the notion of sleep. Nearby she could make out  the  restive

breathing of those sleeping around her, and she found herself soothed  by  the

rhythm along with the rain on the rooftop. She fought the sleep for  a  moment

longer, feeling that perhaps she should continue to keep alert for the others.

But then, Master Skywalker was still awake, and he was more than able to  keep

an eye out for everyone's well-being. There  really  was  no  reason  to  stay

alert...

Jag took the shot on his port shields and stuttered his engines as though

he'd been hit. His clawcraft went into a wild  tumble,  careening  dangerously

across the battlefield. Stars slewed around him in a disorienting tangle,  and

he had to rely on his instincts in ways rarely called upon to make sure he was

heading in the right direction. Only when the scarred bulk of the dead gunship

loomed vertiginously over him did he kill the illusion-and  then  just  for  a

split second.

Everything depended on him being able to convince those that saw him that

his "death roll" was genuine,  while  at  the  same  time  maintaining  enough

control over his ship to ensure he wasn't actually killed.

A fraction of a second before colliding with the gun-ship, he  fired  his

laser cannons. The resulting explosion boiled yorik coral  in  a  great  plume

from the gunship, enveloping him in fire and debris. For a  brief  moment,  he

was actually cushioned by the blast-a situation he had initially feared  might

be untenable, until he checked the rating on his shields and found  that  they

could take it. Inertial dampeners soaked up his residual momentum and  brought

him and his clawcraft to a creaking halt deep within the hull  of  the  ruined

gunship.

It had been a rough ride, and it took him a minute to  get  himself  back

together and make sure everything was still in one  piece.  His  shields  were

recharging, the body of his starfighter  was  still  rigid,  and  his  weapons

systems were still working. So far, so good.

The view through his forward canopy was like  something  he'd  expect  to

find at the heart of a sun. The impact had unleashed a lot of  energy  on  the

dying gunship's interior, energy  it  wasn't  designed  ever  to  see.  Molten

decking bubbled  against  his  shields,  burning  in  what  little  atmosphere

remained in the leaky hulk. Organic components released noxious fumes as  they

decomposed in the extraordinary heat. Jag  imagined  a  plume  of  debris  and

particles spewing from the hole he'd left in the gunship's side. At  least  he

hoped there was; that had been the plan, anyway.

He clicked his communicator. Unwilling to  risk  revealing  his  survival

until the time was  right,  he  had  explained  his  proposal  to  Jocell  and

Adelmaa'j and told them how to respond should the first stage  work  out.  His

one click would tell them he'd survived. Thankfully, he  immediately  received

two clicks in return, which meant that everything had gone according  to  plan

on the outside,  too:  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  had  bought  the  illusion  of  his

destruction. He exhaled heavily in relief, and  instantly  felt  one  knot  of

tension dissolve in his gut. It was time to work on the others.

He searched the wreckage with radar and other instruments. As far  as  he

could tell, it was empty of life, but not completely dead yet.  The  spine  of

the ship was still transmitting data, although the "brain" of the living craft

was dead and the various limbs it  had  once  coordinated  were  disconnected.

Patches of the yorik coral that comprised the hull would live  for  some  time

yet, even if, as a whole, it was beyond hope. And  in  places,  surviving  off

scraps of nutrients and energy sources  circulating  irregularly  through  the

infrastructure, were five clusters of dovin basals, the  miniature  black-hole

generators that the Yuuzhan Vong used for propulsion, defense, and attack.

Jag nodded to himself, pleased with the situation.

He fired up his engines again. The clawcraft  shifted  in  the  wreckage,

then settled as his shields got a better grip.  He  slowly  upped  the  power,

relying on the fighter's instruments-possibly scrambled by the impact-to  tell

him where he was going. No further clicks came from his wingmates, so  he  had

to assume everything was still going according to plan. He pushed the  engines

to their maximum power before, gradually, creakingly, the ruined gunship began

to accelerate.

Another two clicks from the outside confirmed that his reaction wake  was

being camouflaged by the vapor plume. Anyone studying the  gunship's  wreckage

would simply assume that its interior was aflame and disregard it.

Hopefully there were too  many  other  things  to  worry  about-the  Star

Destroyers, the Imperial  squadrons,  and  the  two  pesky  Galactic  Alliance

fighters nipping at anything that seemed to be paying too close attention. And

while they were busy with that, Jag could get started on the next stage of his

plan.

Using the laser cannon as a surgeon would wield a vibroscalpel, he  began

to sculpt the interior of the gunship. Taking great care to avoid the  weight-

bearing stanchions against which his starfighter pressed, he cut great  chunks

out of the spaces around him and let them fall back into  the  exhaust  plume.

Relatively speaking, the thrust his starfighter could apply to the gunship was

small, since the gunship massed many times more than his engine  was  used  to

propelling. He couldn't do anything about thrust, but he could affect the mass

he was pushing against. By eating away at the  gunship  from  the  inside  and

letting the pieces tumble back into the wake, he could gradually increase  the

effect his clawcraft's engine was  having.  And  that  this  inert  wreck  was

suddenly accelerating across the skies of Esfandia wouldn't necessarily arouse

the Yuuzhan Vong's suspicions. In large space battles,  active  debris  was  a

common and occasionally dangerous hazard.

Another two  clicks  confirmed  that  he  was  on  course  and,  as  yet,

unnoticed. His engines were redlining, but he figured they could  sustain  the

effort for the ten minutes required of them. While the battle  swirled  around

him, he moved the hulk slowly but surely to the northern flank. The  attention

of his cutting lasers  encroached,  meter  by  meter,  to  the  hull.  Red-hot

wreckage boiled and burned around him, and every now and then  he  would  come

across a lifeless body that he had to force himself to ignore, and  carry  on.

Each one he came across reminded him just how crazy this plan  of  his  really

was.

If it caught the Yuuzhan Vong off guard, he told himself, if only  for  a

second, then it would all be worthwhile.

"Admiral, Twin One appears to be intending to ram that ruined gunship!"

Pellaeon's gaze didn't shift from the display  to  look  at  the  officer

standing beside him. "I can see what he's doing, Commander. "

"But sir, the Yuuzhan Vong have collision avoidance systems at  least  as

good as ours. They're not about to let wreckage drift  into  their  ships.  If

they suspect the gun-ship is to be used as a ram, they'll simply blow  it  out

of the sky! What could he possibly hope to achieve by doing this?"

"He hopes to surprise me, of course. And them in the process. "

Despite his belief in the young Jagged Fel's abilities, Pellaeon couldn't

help but feel some apprehension. He'd wanted something solid and disconcerting

from the Chiss pilot, certainly, but he hadn't expected quite  so  dramatic  a

response as this.

Meanwhile, the disposition of the battle hadn't changed. The Yuuzhan Vong

still outnumbered the Imperial and Galactic Alliance  forces,  and  they  were

still amassing their forces in the northern  flank.  The  alien  corvette  and

cruiser had managed to repel all attempts to place a  yammosk  jammer  between

them. That remained a potential flashpoint.  If  it  ignited,  Esfandia  might

return to Yuuzhan Vong control.

But he was determined not to let that happen on his  watch.  He'd  sooner

ram the Yuuzhan Vong warships himself than allow that.

"Any sign of the Falcon yet?" he asked his aide.

"No, sir. It must still be down in the atmosphere. "

He wondered whether he should send reinforcements down  to  the  surface.

The Galactic Alliance forces hadn't done so, but  that  was  probably  because

they simply didn't have the resources to spare.  His  last  conversation  with

Captain Mayn had ended on a notably cool note;  perhaps  an  offer  to  assist

would help bridge the gap.

His aide soon had her on the line, and  he  explained  the  situation  as

clearly as he could without spelling out  every  detail.  He  never  entrusted

confidential information to any sort of broadcast medium, no matter how secure

the line was thought to be.

"So if you need any assistance in that regard, " he  concluded,  "I'd  be

only too happy to offer. "

Mayn was shaking her head before he'd  finished.  "Thanks,  Admiral,  but

that won't be necessary. We received a low-power coded transmission  from  the

Falcon a short time ago ordering us to deter any further incursions  into  the

planet's atmosphere as a matter of some urgency. I was about to pass it on  to

you, in fact, when you called. "

Pellaeon absorbed this. It didn't sound like a simple everything's-under-

control-no-help-required  instruction.  One  didn't  normally   issue   orders

requesting urgent inaction without good reason.

"Do they know about the Vong patrols scouting the planet?" he asked.

"I advised them of that myself. "

"And they still don't want anyone to watch their back while they're  down

there?"

"They were quite specific about that. "

"Did they offer any explanation as to why?"

"No, sir. The message was brief. They simply said they would  explain  in

due course, when their location was less sensitive. "

"What is their location?"

"That I don't know, sir, " Captain Mayn  replied  expressionlessly.  "The

signal was too diffuse and brief to obtain a precise lock  on-which  I  assume

was the intention. "

Pellaeon frowned. Did Captain Mayn really not know, or  was  she  holding

out on  the  information  per  instructions  from  her  superiors?  It  seemed

reasonable to assume that the Falcon was looking  for  the  relay  team.  That

wasn't a problem in itself. He simply hated being left in the dark.

"Thank you, Captain, " he said, no longer caring to soften  his  tone  in

the interest of public relations. "In future, please keep me promptly informed

of any such developments. "

"Understood, sir. "

The Galactic Alliance captain signed off, and Pellaeon turned  away  from

the screen to consider what she had and hadn't told him. Part of him  wondered

if he was naive in assuming  that  he  could  trust  this  group  of  Galactic

Alliance forces in the same way that Luke Skywalker  and  his  associates  had

proved that they could be trusted. Yes,  Leia  Organa  Solo  was  Luke's  twin

sister, but she'd been trained in the art of politics-and politicians had  too

many fingers in too many pies to be taken at face value...

"Admiral?"

At the sound  of  his  aide's  voice,  he  turned  from  his  disquieting

thoughts. "What is it?"

"I have a text message from Colonel Fel, sir, relayed through Twin  Nine.

"

"What does he say?"

"He says: 'Get ready. ' "

Pellaeon glanced at the displays showing the northern flank.  The  gutted

gunship's path was a dotted line passing between the two major targets in that

region. The Chiss pilot was clearly going to miss  both  ships  by  a  healthy

margin.

Any reply Pellaeon might have sent went untransmitted as, on  the  screen

before them, the gutted gunship suddenly exploded.

"That was risky, Leia, " Han said when the message to  Pride  of  Selonia

had been dispatched. "The transmission could be traced. "

Leia folded her arms and shivered, unable to take her eyes off the screen

in which the aliens C-3PO called Brrbrlpp had gathered. "I know, but we  can't

take the risk that any more of them will die. It's not acceptable. "

"There are Yuuzhan Vong down here, don't forget, " Droma put in. His tail

twitched restlessly where it dangled over the edge of his chair.

"I haven't forgotten, " she said tightly. "I just haven't decided what to

do about them yet. "

A strange new warbling came over the comm.

"The Brrbrlpp say that there are many hot bodies on Esfandia now, " C-3PO

translated. "They're doing what they can to protect their people, but  without

knowing where the next target will be, it's impossible to keep them all  safe.

"

Leia could appreciate the problem  all  too  well.  There  was  only  one

possible solution, but she didn't particularly like it. It all boiled down  to

the question of what was more important: the  relay  base  and  communications

with the Unknown Regions, or the lives of an alien species that got caught  in

the middle of a war.

"We can't stay down here indefinitely, " Han pointed out.

"But we can't go anywhere, either, " Droma said. "Not while those  aliens

are out there. "

He indicated the ring of flowerlike aliens floating around  the  ship  in

mute appeal. The moment they engaged the Falcon's drives, they would be  swept

away like Geonosians in a hurricane.

"I'm aware of all this, " Leia said irritably. She tried not to take  her

frustration out on her companions, but  it  was  hard  not  to  when  all  her

thoughts kept coming back to the same conclusion.

"Telemetry, " Han  said.  Screens  in  front  of  the  copilot's  station

flickered with data coming down from the Selonia. "Increased traffic  in  this

area. The scarheads must've picked up the edges of our transmission. "

"If we keep low, they won't see us, right?" Droma looked at both of  them

hopefully.

"Yes, but we're not about to do that, "  Leia  said.  "We  have  to  send

another message. "

Han didn't look happy with her suggestion. "I don't think that's  a  good

idea.

"If we do that, Leia, they'll spot us for sure. "

"That's partly the idea. "

Understanding dawned behind her husband's eyes.  "Okay,  but  what  about

them?" He indicated the waiting aliens.

"How far can we extend the shields?"

"A fair distance. Why?"

"Can we create a separate pocket?"

"Not without serious modifications. "

"But you could do it?" Leia felt disappointment mounting on  top  of  her

frustration.

"I guess. "

"Good. " She was only marginally  reassured.  Her  plan  would  save  the

Brrbrlpp in the short term, but might end up killing them all in the long run.

"I don't think we have an alternative, " she said.

Han nodded as he turned away to begin hitting switches. "Then  let's  get

started. "

Droma was looking from Han to Leia with increasing puzzlement.  "I  don't

suppose either of you would care to let me in on what's going on. "

"It's simple, " Leia said. "We're going to draw the Yuuzhan Vong here  by

sending another transmission. "

Droma's bushy gray eyebrows shot up.  "Not  before  dropping  me  at  the

nearest thing that passes for a bar this planet, I trust?"

Leia ignored the glib remark. "It's the only thing we can do.  They  know

something's in the area, since they picked up the fringes of our last message.

But they'll assume it came from the relay base; that's all  they're  aware  is

down here. They'll instantly converge on us, wanting to take us out. "

"And that's a good thing-why?"

Droma looked to Han for support, but didn't get it.

"Listen, " Han said, "we tell the Selonia to look for  a  convergence  in

our location, right? When the Yuuzhan Vong are all in one spot,  they'll  make

the perfect target. The big beam weapons  on  one  of  those  Star  Destroyers

should be able to make quite a mess out of them. "

"Not to mention us, of course. "

"Not if they aim right. We'll be cold, presenting as small  a  target  as

possible. "

"What about the locals?"

"Hopefully they'll be tucked nice and safe under our shields, " Han said.

"Look, just relax, Droma, and stop your whining. Leia knows what's she  doing.

"

"She married you, didn't she?" the Ryn muttered with a shake of his head.

"That's not what I'd call a particularly good track record. "

Leia turned away from the two and faced  C-3PO,  not  interested  in  her

husband's response to the Ryn. "Threepio, advise the-" She stopped, unable  to

get her tongue around the pronunciation of the aliens' name. "Just  tell  them

that they should come as close as possible to the Falcon and that  they're  to

stay there until we tell them otherwise. "

"As you wish, Princess. "

"Tell them also to get anyone in the area as far away as possible. Things

are about to get extremely messy around here, and I  don't  want  anyone  else

getting hurt. "

C-3PO relayed the message in burbling, singsong tones.

reply came in several stages, with the droid explaining key  features  of

the plan that were beyond the aliens' experiences.

"They will do as you instruct, " he said eventually, "although there  are

some concerns that they might be taken hostage. They ask us to be particularly

careful of the nesting plains nearby. "

"Nesting plains?" Han rolled his eyes. "That's just terrific.  As  if  we

don't have enough to worry about. "

"What does it look like?" Leia asked.

"It consists of a series of caves and  tunnels  beneath  the  surface  in

which the female Brrbrlpp lay their eggs for the males to fertilize. They  are

private places, warmed from the heat of the core. "

"And the fact that one of them is so near to us might explain  why  there

are so many of those aliens around here, " Leia mused aloud.

"Exactly, Mistress. If we had come down in the open plains,  there  would

have been almost no one around. "

"Well, we can't move now, " Han said.

"Tell them we'll be as careful as possible, " Leia said. "That's the best

we can do. "

C-3PO relayed  her  reassurance,  while  Leia  came  to  terms  with  the

difficulty of what she'd set out for herself. As things stood, the Falcon  was

a stationary object that the Yuuzhan Vong looking for  the  relay  base  could

easily use for target practice. It could neither flee  nor  return  fire,  for

fear of hurting the fragile locals. Add to that the nearby nesting  area,  and

the fact they still had no idea where the relay base was, and it was beginning

to look like they'd taken on more than they could handle.

"The message is on its way, " Han said. "I've adjusted the shields. "

Leia glanced at the screen and  noted  that  the  ring  of  Brrbrlpp  had

contracted around the old freighter. "Then all we can do now is wait, I guess.

"

"And hope they're not too busy up there to rescue us, " Droma  said,  his

eyes drifting nervously to the ceiling.

For this one's home...

Saba's eyes snapped open. She sat bolt upright, heart racing  and  scales

shifting in anticipation. She took a couple of deep and calming  breaths,  but

the residue of the dream still troubled her. The burning  planet,  the  anger,

the slaveship, the torpedoes... She had relived the terrible images  of  Barab

I's destruction too many times over the last few months, as well as the  guilt

that accompanied the dream.

For this one's people...

She shook her head to lose the dream and the emotions it brought. It  was

unlikely that she'd ever lose the dream completely; what had happened that day

would haunt her for the rest of her life.

She sighed heavily to herself, and looked idly about the  dark  room.  It

was still nighttime, and everyone was asleep. The only sounds she  could  hear

were breathing and the rain's continued pitter-patter on the rooftop. For  all

intents and purposes, everything seemed normal. And yet...

Her scales stiffened again, this  time  in  apprehension.  Something  was

wrong. She reached out around her with the Force, trying to isolate the unease

she was feeling. She could sense her fellow Jedi Knights, could feel the mixed

life signals of the airships and various Ferroans nearby, could feel-

She stopped, realizing what it was  that  troubled  her  -  something  so

subtle that a human might have missed it. It wasn't what was there, but rather

what wasn't. There was no longer the faint touch of the habitat's life  force;

it was dead.

With her senses tingling, she threw back her blanket and made  to  stand.

Halfway to her feet, however, something heavy and suffocating dropped down  on

her from above and pushed her back to the ground.

She roared to wake the others. Her lightsaber flared  into  life  beneath

the confines of whatever it was that was holding her down. She  slashed  once,

twice, and felt the weight fall away. She forced her arms and head through the

hole she'd sliced, just as something hard and heavy swung at her  out  of  the

shadows, cracking her across the skull. She fell back with a grunt. Pain  from

the blow seared down one side of her face.

She  fought  back,  feverishly  willing  herself  to  move.  Someone  had

obviously killed the habitat and brought it down upon them. Then, as  each  of

them struggled to climb out, the attackers would strike them as they  emerged.

It was almost too easy. But clearly, these assailants didn't  know  what  they

were dealing with. A Jedi Knight wasn't so  easily  overcome;  and  four  Jedi

Knights was a force to be reckoned with...

"Saba!"

The voice belonged to Soron Hegerty, and from  the  doctor's  tone,  Saba

knew she was in trouble.

She tried to break free to help the doctor, and was struck again  by  the

blunt weapon. This time she was ready, though, and managed to deflect the blow

so that it only struck her shoulder. Her attacker let out a yelp of fright  as

Saba pulled herself to her feet and raised her lightsaber to strike back. From

the glow of her blade, as well as the  reflected  light  from  the  gas  giant

Mobus, she was finally able to make him out. He was a Ferroan male  of  medium

height and build, and his expression was one of  determination  undercut  with

panic-a panic she knew she could use to her advantage. She faced her  attacker

squarely, roaring as loud as she could and raising her lightsaber as though to

strike. He took one look at her sharp teeth and claws, dropped his weapon, and

fled.

She turned  to  where  Hegerty  struggled  with  three  other  black-clad

Ferroans. There were more of  them  scurrying  around  on  the  folds  of  the

collapsed habitat, but Saba ignored them.  Master  Skywalker  and  the  others

could look after themselves; it was Dr. Hegerty who needed her help  the  most

right then. The Jedi Master was weaving through the rain, cutting  the  others

free while staving off his attackers. Hegerty,  her  cries  now  muffled,  was

being dragged rapidly away.

Saba took off at a run, her tail pointing behind her in an arrow-straight

counterbalance to the lightsaber in her hand. One of  the  kidnappers  tripped

just as Saba reached them, lightsaber cutting  a  hissing  swath  through  the

rain. The one who'd fallen scrambled  backward  through  the  mud,  while  the

others turned to face her. There was fear in their eyes, but they  held  their

ground. Two held heavy clubs like the one that  had  almost  knocked  her  out

before. The third pointed something at her that looked like  a  thin,  twisted

tree root, with a startlingly acute crystal point at its tip. Before  she  had

time to wonder at its purpose, a miniature bolt of lightning arced toward her.

It grounded safely in her lightsaber, which she'd swung to  intercept  it

with liquid ease.

"This one will not allow a friend to be harmed, " she said, revealing her

teeth in a menacing snarl.

The one with the tree root weapon lowered his aim, uncertainty overtaking

his resolve, while the one on the ground scrabbled for purchase  in  the  mud.

The third kidnapper, the one  actually  holding  the  doctor,  unceremoniously

dropped his hostage. She fell into the mud with  a  grunt  of  both  pain  and

indignation. Then all three were gone, running in  different  directions  into

the shadows.

Saba resisted the urge to chase after them.  Instead,  she  reached  down

with one clawed hand to help the doctor to her feet.

"Thank you, " the scholar gasped, wiping water and dirt  from  her  face.

Her gray hair hung limply and was streaked with mud. "As soon as the roof came

down on us, they were right there ready to cut me free. I thought they'd  come

to rescue me at first, until they clubbed me. " She rubbed at her  head.  "Why

should they want me, though?"

Saba knew. Go for the weakest of the herd.  It  was  the  first  rule  of

predation, and in this case the weakest would  have  been  those  who  weren't

fighters. And that meant...

"We must get back to the otherz, " she said, hurriedly leading the way.

They returned to find Luke and Mara arguing with a group of Ferroans  who

had come out to see what all the commotion was about.  They  seemed  genuinely

surprised, but not above taking affront at Mara's suggestion that they'd  been

in any way negligent.

"Are you suggesting we would sanction such behavior?" Rowel protested.

"All I know is that we were attacked, " Mara said. "And  you  assured  us

we'd be safe. "

"I thought Jedi could look after themselves, " Darak sneered.

"The fact that we're standing here now shows that we can, " Mara defended

quickly, "despite the cowardly attack by your  people!  They  waited  for  the

habitat to collapse before doing anything!"

"Habitats don't just collapse, " Darak said.

"Whoever planned this attack, " Master Skywalker said, "obviously  rigged

it earlier. "

Rowel looked exasperated. "But I still don't see  who  would  do  such  a

thing!"

"I don't care who, " Mara said. "I just want them found. "

"In this rain?" Rowel said. "They could have gone in  a  dozen  different

directions. You'll never find them now. "

"We have to try, " Jacen said, stepping into the conversation with a grim

expression. To Master Skywalker and Mara he said, "She's gone. "

"Who is gone?" Darak asked.

Go for the weakest of the herd...

"Danni Quee, " Saba said. "They took Danni. "

Jacen looked at her and nodded. "And I intend to find her before they get

too far. "

"Jacen, wait-" Mara tried to catch her nephew's shoulder  as  he  started

off into the darkness, but he shrugged her hand aside and continued on his way

without further comment.

"This one will keep him safe, " Saba reassured Mara.  With  a  two-legged

leap, she took after Jacen, hunting the moment...

Pellaeon's aide gasped as the decoy gunship blew up with Jag  Fel  inside

it. The admiral noted other signs of surprise and  distress  across  the  wide

bridge of Right to Rule. The fortunes  of  Soontir's  son  had  captured  more

attention than he'd expected. To see them so suddenly dashed was a shock  even

to him.

He turned to his aide, opening his mouth to issue an order and recall all

fighters from the northern flank.  Before  any  words  had  passed  his  lips,

however, something strange happened. The destroyed  gunship  had  broken  into

several large chunks, with numerous smaller fragments boiling into vacuum. Two

of the larger chunks were heading for the cruiser. Another, the  largest,  was

tumbling toward the corvette. The fragments were large enough and  had  enough

relative velocity to inflict considerable damage, if they hit, but as Pellaeon

watched, the equivalent of collision avoidance systems came into  play  around

the two ships. A gout of plasma fire lashed out at the first of the  fragments

to approach the cruiser.

Instead of blowing the wreckage into even smaller fragments, however, the

vicious bolt of plasma was sucked away into nothing.

"What-?" Pellaeon stared at the screen in disbelief.  Even  when  another

plasma burst failed to destroy the  rapidly  approaching  wreckage,  he  still

didn't understand what was happening. Only as the corvette began firing on the

piece tumbling toward it did he finally realize it: the plasma fire was  being

absorbed by dovin basals lingering on the fragments of the gunship's hull!

And with that realization, the rest of Jag Fel's plan fell into place for

him.

"All fighters in the northern flank, " he ordered his aide,  "concentrate

on those two targets! Divert all firepower to the weak spots!"

The aide frowned. "What weak spots, sir?"

"Those weak spots!" He indicated the sudden blossoming of energy  as  the

first gunship fragment hit  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  cruiser.  He  leaned  back  in

satisfaction as his orders were relayed and fighters converged on the  damaged

ship, intending to add not just insult to injury, but violent  destruction  as

well.

Jag rode the wild tumbling of the third fragment as it arrowed toward the

Yuuzhan Vong corvette hanging alongside the damaged cruiser. The Yuuzhan  Vong

were quick; he had to give them that. They were  already  concentrating  their

fire on his ride, hoping to overload the lingering dovin basals and  blow  the

threat into a million pieces. When their shots cut through the  debris  enough

to impact on his shields, he retaliated, knowing that the move would take them

by surprise. A lethal piece of debris was bad enough;  that  it  would  return

fire would have been completely unexpected.

His shots  had  the  required  effect.  The  Yuuzhan  Vong  gunners  were

distracted long enough for the gunship fragment to hit  the  corvette's  hull.

Just before the collision, Jag made sure the fragment was between him and  the

corvette; nevertheless, the impact was intense enough  to  almost  buckle  his

shields. The shock wave from the resulting explosion caused him to  black  out

for a moment, and when he came to again he found himself immersed in a  white-

hot ball of gas and debris. Repeating the tactic he'd employed in the gunship,

he fired his way out of the impact point, tunneling deep into the heart of the

corvette.

He didn't know how far he would get before his shields overloaded, but he

was determined to do as much damage as he could  before  then.  Since  Yuuzhan

Vong warriors were trained to fight to the death, opportunities to explore the

interiors of their ships came rarely, and he had no idea where the equivalents

of power generators or drives might be situated. He simply angled  inward  and

backward along the craft's  major  axes,  figuring  that  the  most  sensitive

material would probably be kept there. He knew that it would be impossible  to

trigger an explosion like the one that had torn  the  gunship  apart,  but  he

figured it was worth trying.

Burning debris roiled around him, enclosing him  in  an  extended,  fiery

bubble. The plasma effectively cut him off from the universe outside, stopping

even the clicks from his wingmates getting through. Whether his  maneuver  had

been sufficient for Pellaeon to turn  the  tide  in  the  northern  flank,  he

wouldn't know until he was out. He only hoped he wouldn't be met with  a  wall

of coral-skippers when he emerged. That would certainly bring  an  ignominious

end to his daring plan.

Is this what you would have done, Jaina? he wondered. Would you have gone

this far?

He kept on firing until his laser cannons  threatened  to  melt  and  his

shields were on the verge of collapse. In case he needed those systems on  the

way out, he rested them while he rotated his  fighter  around  its  center  of

gravity and prepared to retrace his steps. The view behind was the same as  in

front: nothing but boiling debris and the  red-hot  outlines  of  load-bearing

structures, now deformed and sagging. A shudder rolled through  the  corvette,

but he couldn't tell if it was a result of his actions or from elsewhere.  For

all he knew, the ship might have been on the brink of exploding, or  it  could

have simply been changing course.

Gunning his engines and keeping  a  close  eye  on  the  instruments,  he

powered his way back through the burning ship. Occasionally, great  clumps  of

anti-reactant foam clogged his path,  and  he  was  forced  to  burn  his  way

through, starting new fires in the process.

As he neared the outer hull, he picked up the speed. The impact  site  of

the gunship wreckage gave him more room to maneuver, and a greater feeling  of

exposure, too. Inside, he'd been relatively safe. Once outside again, he would

come under the targeting system of every weapon on the  corvette's  hull-along

with the targeting reticles of every skip within firing distance.  The  faster

he came out, the better.

White heat faded to blue streaked with yellow, then orange,  and  finally

red. Then abruptly there was nothing ahead  of  him  but  stars.  He  put  his

shields to maximum behind him and pushed the throttle as far as it  would  go.

Burned black from nose to stern, his starfighter shot out of the burning  ship

like a particle discharged from the business end of a charric.  He  fought  to

keep his damaged stabilizers under control and ignored a blast of  noise  from

his comm. Until he was certain he had his clawcraft under control,  he  didn't

have time to look around.

When he did, he was amazed to find that his plan appeared to have worked.

The corvette was in serious trouble, burning in too many places to  count  and

looking like it could break up at any moment. Dozens of Imperial fighters were

pounding it without relief. Nearby,  the  cruiser  was  coming  under  similar

attack. The places where the  gunship  fragments  had  hit  were  targets  for

repeated combat runs, leaving them gaping and  vulnerable.  The  holes  vented

gases and bodies in huge clouds, making navigation dangerous for Yuuzhan  Vong

and Imperial alike. Any chance of the northern  flank  becoming  a  focus  for

resistance now seemed very remote.

"Jag! You made it!"

The greeting burst out of his comm like a  miniature  explosion,  closely

followed by an X-wing swooping in from his right.

"Nice to hear your voice, Enton, "  he  replied.  "How's  everything  out

here?"

"Much improved now, sir. " This came from Twin Sun  Four,  settling  into

position off his port side. "I think you've shown those Imps a thing or two. "

I certainly hope so, he thought as he continued  to  guide  his  battered

starfighter out of the thick of things.

"Congratulations on a job well done, Colonel Fel.  "  The  voice  of  the

Grand Admiral from  the  comm  broke  across  his  thoughts.  "Consider  me...

surprised. "

"I hope I managed to make a difference, sir. "

"Oh, that you did, " the Grand Admiral said. "It's becoming obvious  that

neither we nor the Yuuzhan Vong are going to control the planet. I'd expect  a

stalemate to form anytime now: us on one side, them on the other. I doubt that

anyone will be getting any closer than low orbit. That should allow the ground

crew time to find the base, at least. "

"Have we heard anything from them, sir?"

"Not that I'm aware, " Pellaeon said. "Although you might want  to  check

with Captain Mayn. Tell her that if there's anything I need to hear, she knows

where to find me. "

Jag frowned, sensing something in Pellaeon's tone but not  sure  what  it

was-and certain it wasn't any of his business. "I'll contact her  immediately,

sir. "

"I'd consider doing more than that, " the admiral said. "You're going  to

need more than just a wire brush to get rid of that scoring. "

Jag smiled as he turned his clawcraft around for Pride of Selonia. He had

no idea how badly crisped he'd gotten inside the gunship and the cruiser,  but

if the admiral had taken time to comment on it, it must be bad.

He checked in with Captain Mayn, who ordered him  back  in  no  uncertain

terms. There was a heavy strain in her voice, as though she was deeply worried

about something.

"We haven't heard from the Falcon, " she  explained  when  he  asked.  "A

garbled transmission came through a short time ago, but we  couldn't  decipher

it. We suspect the Yuuzhan Vong are jamming transmissions from the surface. "

"That's not good, " Jag said. "They could be calling for help.  Is  there

any way we can get down there?"

"No. And don't  even  think  about  trying,  Colonel.  You're  not  going

anywhere until we check out your ship. "

"Don't worry, Captain, " he said. "I think one crazy stunt is enough  for

one day. "

As he arced around the Selonia and moved into position to dock, he  asked

the question that had been on his mind since he'd emerged from  the  belly  of

the alien corvette.

"Captain, is Jaina there?"

There was a long pause. When Mayn returned, her voice was  more  strained

than ever, and Jag knew that this was the source of the woman's anxiety.

"It might be easier to talk about that when you dock, " Mayn said.

Jag felt an icy nausea squeeze his stomach. "Is something wrong?"

"To be honest, Colonel, we don't know. None of us here is a Jedi,  so  we

have no idea if her condition is normal or not. "

"What condition?"

Even over the crackling comm, he heard Captain Mayn take a  deep  breath.

"She's unconscious; possibly in a coma, Dantos says.  We  don't  know  exactly

when it happened, and we don't know when she's likely to snap out of it-if she

snaps out of it at all. I'm sorry, Colonel; I wish I could  offer  you  better

news. But the fact is, we just can't reach her. "

We can't reach her. Captain Mayn's words seemed to echo in Jag's ears. As

he jockeyed his clawcraft around to the docking bays, he asked, "When did this

happen? Where did you find her?"

"In Tahiri's room, " Mayn  answered.  "She's  been  like  that  since  we

arrived. "

Jag nodded, his jaw tightening. He'd known the answer before  asking  the

question. That didn't make hearing it any better, though.

He gripped the controls of his clawcraft tightly as he carefully  brought

it in to dock, even though his every instinct urged him to hurry.

"Are you still there, Colonel?" he heard Mayn ask after a few seconds.

But he didn't have time to reply; he was too  busy  clambering  from  his

cockpit. As soon as his feet hit  the  ground,  he  was  running  through  the

corridors, heading for Tahiri's room.

The area surrounding Shimrra's palace had undergone  considerable  change

since Nom Anor's expulsion. Bio-engineered life-forms extruded from the walls,

floors, and ceilings of buildings as they slowly ate  their  way  through  the

lifeless constructs of the planet's previous occupants, fashioning  them  into

immense new  extensions  to  house  the  Supreme  Overlord's  vast  number  of

servants, executors, and other support staff.

There was no mistaking the palace itself. A  worldship  standing  on  one

end, it rose like a majestic mountain from the ruins of the old world. It  was

a thing of awesome beauty and intimidating splendor with its  mighty  rainbow-

edged wings stretching out across Yuuzhan'tar for all to see.

The exterior of the inner sanctum, Shimrra's private chambers,  had  been

heavily decorated with slender, curving spikes that reached  for  the  sky  as

though to snatch at the clouds. The number of entrances  had  been  reduced  -

possibly in response to failed attempts by the heresy to get  inside-and  each

one was now protected by heavy security.

Still, the priestess Ngaaluh had no difficulty smuggling a villip inside,

with which to spy on proceedings. Cleverly incorporated into  elaborate  robes

and ornamentation, it saw what was taking  place  with  perfect  clarity.  Nom

Anor, on the receiving end of its transmissions, saw, too.

A full court had gathered to hear the priestess's report  on  the  Vishtu

region. Nom Anor recognized many of the  faces  gathered  before  the  Supreme

Overlord. Many were ones he had himself served with. The  others  were  recent

additions, replacements for those lost in action or killed for  failing  their

master. They watched  proceedings  with  keen,  cautious  eyes,  knowing  that

opportunities for advancement would be frequent in such  an  environment,  but

that risks were concomitantly high.

Then, of course, there  was  Lord  Shimrra  himself.  Nom  Anor  felt  an

immediate adrenaline rush the moment his eyes fell upon the Supreme  Overlord.

It was easy to forget, when bathed in the rhetoric of the heresy, how striking

Shimrra was-how gloriously wrathful. Every fiber of Shimrra's  being  screamed

out in torment, tortured by the very garments he  wore.  He  radiated  psychic

distress on every frequency-yet beneath that there burned a  cold,  implacable

surety of purpose. He was like a natural force whose  very  presence  demanded

attention, and it took all of Nom Anor's will just to lower his gaze.

"... resources provided by Prefect Ash'ett proved barely adequate for  my

investigation. " Ngaaluh's report droned on, giving details in abundance,  but

offering no real information. "I was forced to procure my own means. And  what

I found was disturbing to an extreme. Numerous cells of heretic movements have

formed in the consul's staff at all levels of seniority. It  is  clear,  Great

Lord, that the situation warrants serious scrutiny. "

A flurry of whispers circulated around  the  throne  room.  High  Prefect

Drathul looked particularly concerned. As  head  of  the  intendant  caste  on

Yuuzhan'tar, Prefect Ash'ett fell under his governance. Any  stain  on  Vishtu

would inevitably reflect on him.

"I find this disturbing, " Shimrra rumbled from on high. His  grotesquely

magnificent throne towered over the penitents gathered before him, yet he  did

not seem dwarfed by it. Darkness and power radiated from him in  waves.  "Once

again, Ngaaluh, you display unflinching bravery in bringing such  news  to  my

attention. "

Another whisper; the Supreme Overlord  had  killed  many  underlings  for

delivering better news.

The priestess bowed low, unfazed. "It is my duty, Great  One.  I  do  not

shirk from it. "

"You have evidence, I presume?"

Ngaaluh snapped her fingers. Guards brought forth five prisoners in cages

made of coral and sinew that formed a natural shell,  through  which  numerous

perforations admitted air. The cages unfolded with a gentle  pressure  on  the

outer spinal ridge, and the five prisoners tumbled  out.  They  whimpered  and

cried as they struggled awkwardly to their knees, but none of them pleaded for

mercy.

"These were apprehended in the act of spreading the word of the  Prophet,

" Ngaaluh explained, perfectly truthfully. "They all work for Prefect Ash'ett.

"

The prisoners were pushed facedown onto the floor  by  Shimrra's  swarthy

bodyguards. They squirmed and wriggled, but were unable to  escape.  Bound  by

blorash jelly at wrists and ankles, the deformed creatures looked  hideous  in

the face of Shimrra's imperial perfection.  Everything  the  Supreme  Overlord

had, the prisoners lacked. There was beauty in pain and ugliness; Nom Anor had

forgotten just how splendid it could be.

"You, " Shimrra said, gesturing at one of the prisoners at random with  a

single long, clawed finger. "Are you a servant of the Jeedai?"

"With every breath, " the prisoner gasped, knowing  he  was  sealing  his

death sentence with those words. His eyes were wild with hatred and rebellion,

but trembling limbs betrayed his fear.

"You do not fear the gods, then. "

"No. "

"Do you fear me?"

"No. "

"What do you want?"

"Our freedom and our honor!"

The court hissed to hear the heresy spoken so brazenly in the very  heart

of the Yuuzhan Vong empire. All, including Nom Anor, expected Shimrra to enact

an immediate and terrible revenge on the source of such a  foul  challenge-but

the Supreme Overlord, as he so often did, surprised them all.

"Interesting. " Shimrra's voice was measured,  almost  bored,  as  though

they were discussing nothing more than fleet movements in a  distant  part  of

the galaxy. "It is as you have stated it, Ngaaluh.  Tell  me,  do  the  Jeedai

instruct these heretics personally, or do they direct them through another?"

The  prisoner  interrupted  before  Ngaaluh  could  answer.  "I  obey  my

conscience; I obey the Prophet!"

Nom Anor cursed. That wasn't what the fool was supposed to say!

"My personal opinion is that Ash'ett is involved, " the  priestess  said,

recovering quickly and getting the correct message across.

"But you have no direct evidence?"

"In time, I will provide it. "

"That won't be necessary. " Shimrra turned  his  attention  back  to  the

prisoners. "Throw them to the yargh'un pit.  Their  screams  of  torment  will

provide a pleasing ambience during my  communion  with  the  gods.  And  while

you're about it, bring me Prefect Ash'ett. "

"It would be good to hear his side of the story,  Lord,  "  High  Prefect

Drathul said as the heretics were dragged away. "I  am  certain  that  he  can

prove his innocence. He is a loyal and faithful servant-"

Shimrra silenced him with a gesture. "Whether Prefect Ash'ett is  corrupt

or not, " he said, "the fact is that he has allowed the heresy a  foothold  in

his affairs. That is not acceptable. He must be reminded of  the  consequences

of laxity-as must everyone in a  position  of  responsibility.  I  want  every

member of his immediate family executed in the yargh'un  pit.  If  they  offer

resistance, execute everyone in his  entire  domain  and  install  another  in

Vishtu sector. A confession will not be required; suspicion alone  is  enough.

This is the price of laxity that all will suffer if the heresy  is  not  wiped

out. "

The orders provoked gasps from the audience. Its  severity  was  extreme,

even for Shimrra.  Prefect  Drathul's  face  went  a  sickly  shade  of  gray,

Warmaster Nas Choka grinned a predator's smile at the fate of  the  intendants

he despised, and Nom Anor, far away, cackled gleefully.

"I am weary of this pointless aggravation, " Shimrra said. His every word

and  act  was  calculated  to  antagonize,  to  bludgeon  those  beneath  into

obedience. Not just the acts of gross violence, but the sweeping red gaze, the

glistening teeth, the lazy pacing of a predator at the top of the food  chain.

"If there were a chance that these worthless animals could achieve their goal,

then I might admire their determination, their loyalty to a cause. That  their

cause is utterly  farcical  wouldn't  detract  from  the  respect  they  would

deserve, simply for attempting to rise above their station. " Shimrra  sneered

mightily, triumphantly, at the terrified faces of  those  watching  him.  "But

they are inevitably doomed. Their cause is  hopeless  and  their  deaths  will

bring them no honor. The gods spurn them as abominations. I  will  not  suffer

them, or anyone tainted by them, to live. "

Nom Anor was delighted. His betrayal of  Ash'ett  had  reaped  unexpected

rewards. Shimrra was obviously hoping to send a clear  warning  to  all  caste

members while at the same time weeding out suspicious domains.  From  now  on,

suspicion alone was enough, and failure to  fight  the  heretics  couldn't  be

blamed on underlings.  What  that  meant  for  the  heretics,  though,  wasn't

disaster. It gave Nom Anor an even more potent weapon. With just a  word  from

Ngaaluh,  Shimrra  could  be  made  to  destroy  whole  swaths  of  his  loyal

supporters. It was perfect!

Ngaaluh, glorious queen of deception, was the first to recover  from  the

Supreme Overlord's pronouncement.

"Your will, Great One, is the will of the gods, " she said,  bowing  low.

"We obey you utterly and without question. "

The others in Shimrra's court had no choice but to follow  suit,  echoing

her bow and her words with murmured praises of their own. High Prefect Drathul

had looked for a moment as though he might protest, but Shimrra's warning  was

clear. Those who spoke out against punishment for heresy risked being  labeled

heretical themselves. Drathul's eyesacks were inflamed and black as he stooped

to offer his loyalty to the Supreme Overlord.

Yet when he looked at Ngaaluh, his expression was  free  of  hatred.  Nom

Anor looked for any sign of resentment at how Ash'ett-and by  association  all

of the intendants - had been implicated in the heresy, but he saw nothing  but

resignation. That surprised him. It wasn't like Drathul to  simply  roll  over

and accept his fate.

The moment passed, and Ngaaluh moved back to  allow  other  penitents  to

speak.

The conversation moved on to other troubles on the surface.  A  field  of

lambents had overheated and caught fire, disturbing harvesting on the far side

of the planet. Lungworms from  the  district  of  Bluudon  had  developed  the

noxious habit of emitting hydrogen sulfide instead of life-giving oxygen.  Two

flocks of massive transport envelopers had gone wild  on  separate  occasions,

sending local communities into a panic until the beasts  were  contained.  All

could be traced to the ongoing malfunctions of  the  dhuryam  controlling  the

transformation of Yuuzhan'tar. The new master shaper, Yal Phaath, had  yet  to

find a solution to the problem.

Meanwhile,  two  thousand  kilometers  away,  a  cell  of  heretics   had

successfully infiltrated a coralskipper farming  crew  and  slipped  parasites

into the feeding lines. Half-grown pods had exploded all  over  the  shipyard,

setting off others and creating a chain reaction that undid an  entire  year's

work. The damage couldn't be hidden;  even  from  orbit  the  destruction  was

obvious. It was the pro-Jedi movement's third major strike in a week. Nom Anor

rubbed his hands together. While he wasn't responsible for the  disruption  of

the World Brain, that didn't stop him taking credit for it. Word  was  quickly

spreading: anywhere could be next. His power was growing by the  day.  Nothing

could stop him now...

Part Three Abduction

Wet leaves slapped at Jacen's face as he ran through the tampasi. Despite

their size and weight, he didn't let them impede his progress;  he  just  kept

running, allowing the Force to guide him in his search for Danni.

He could sense her somewhere up ahead, but  the  reading  was  vague  and

distorted, as though something was interfering  with  the  Force.  But  if  he

concentrated he could detect the young scientist's life signs, and was able to

at least get some idea of which way they were taking her.

Leaping over fallen logs, ducking heavier branches, Jacen hurried through

the dense undergrowth. The ground cover was so thick he couldn't see where  to

put his feet, and on more than  one  occasion  he  stumbled  when  the  ground

dropped out from beneath him. The rain  fell  in  a  heavy  mist  all  around,

plastering his hair and clothes to his skin and blurring his  vision.  It  was

all irrelevant. All that mattered was reaching Danni and making sure  no  harm

came to her. He stayed focused on her spark in the Force and continued to push

himself harder and faster through the vegetation.

Without warning, he burst out of a dense knot of ferns and onto a  narrow

path. He turned to follow it, knowing instinctively  that  this  was  how  the

Ferroans had made such speedy progress. Moving steadily  along  the  path,  he

cast his mind out into the Force again to check the area.

He found Danni's spark-faint and flickering, but  there  nonetheless.  He

couldn't detect Saba, though-whom he had sensed following  some  time  ago-nor

hear her movement in the tampasi around him. He didn't have time to  dwell  on

it. He had to stay focused...

His pace quickened, feet splashing noisily on the wet  ground.  He  could

tell that he was closing in fast, and this goaded him on. He could  sense  the

kidnappers now, also: five in all, each with a certain calm to their thoughts.

They were relaxed, exuding a confidence that came from the  belief  that  they

had gotten away with their crime-along with the  fact  that  they  were  being

joined by other conspirators.

Yes, thought Jacen, reaching out farther into the Force. There they  were

now. The two groups were coming together in a clearing up ahead, greeting  one

another with laughter and congratulatory handshakes, none of  them  exhibiting

the slightest hint of fear or concern.

Removing his lightsaber from his belt, he increased his pace  even  more.

The kidnappers were so close now that he could hear their voices just  off  in

the distance, could even see faint movements  through  the  gaps  between  the

mighty boras that stood between them and himself.

If you've hurt her in any way...

Using the fallen trunk of a boras as a springboard, Jacen leapt into  the

small clearing where the kidnappers were gathered, somersaulting in the air as

he went and igniting his lightsaber at the same time. When  his  feet  touched

the ground he was already in a defensive stance, ready to  deflect  the  three

bolts of energy that spat from the tips  of  the  kidnappers'  lightning  rods

harmlessly into the ground.

He raised his lightsaber above his head, poised in a  double-handed  pose

to strike if anyone came too  close.  The  kidnappers  froze,  and  an  uneasy

silence fell over the clearing.

He looked down at Danni lying on a stretcher made from two thick branches

with a crisscrossing of vines in between. He couldn't tell whether she was all

right, but she didn't seem to be moving at all, and that didn't bode well.

"We're prepared to fight, " one of the kidnappers said, stepping forward.

The weapon in his hand trembled uneasily.

Looking around at the startled conspirators,  he  could  see  from  their

faces and postures that they weren't  experienced  fighters,  and  he  had  no

doubts that he could take them all on with little effort. But that wasn't what

he wanted. That wasn't who he was. There had to be a peaceful way of resolving

this and getting Danni back safely...

"You can't win, " another said with  marginally  more  confidence.  "It's

fifteen against one. "

Jacen was about to lower his weapon and try another  tack  when  an  ear-

piercing roar broke the rainy quiet. A dark shape leapt out of  the  trees  as

Jacen had and dropped heavily into  the  clearing.  Saba's  lightsaber  sliced

through the air, turning the rain to steam with a menacing hiss.

"Fifteen against two, " she snarled.

Half the kidnappers fled in panic at the sight of the mighty Barabel, not

even attempting to put up a fight. Seven remained, all  clustered  around  the

stretcher, putting themselves between Jacen and Saba and their  hostage.  Five

of them raised their clubs, ready to fight, while the other two flashed  their

gnarled lightning rods.

"Wait!" Jacen called out over the rain. If he was going  to  defuse  this

situation, he knew it would have to be now. "Please, just lower your weapons!"

Heads turned to him as he deactivated his lightsaber and returned  it  to

his belt. He raised both hands defenselessly in the air.

"Do you really want to die here tonight?" he asked the Ferroans.

"You're the ones outnumbered, Jedi!" one of the kidnappers spat.

Jacen extended his will through the Force toward the lightning rod in the

man's hand. With a small gesture, he pulled the weapon to himself. The Ferroan

glanced down at his empty hands, then up  at  Jacen,  surprise  fighting  with

panic in his eyes as he took a nervous step back.

"Looks can be deceptive, " Jacen said, dropping the weapon to the ground.

Caught between the snarling  ferocity  of  a  Barabel  and  Jacen's  calm

confidence, the group tightened their grip  on  their  remaining  weapons  and

moved in threateningly close to Danni.

Jacen stepped forward, one hand upraised, keen to stay any  violent  acts

they might intend. "There has to be another way. "

"Such as?" asked the one whose weapon had just been confiscated.

"We could try talking, " Jacen said. "Perhaps if you told us  why  you're

doing this, we might be able to work things out without violence. "

"I don't trust them, " said another of the Ferroans, a woman  with  black

hair and round features. "I don't trust any outsiders!"

"There's no reason to be frightened of us,  "  Jacen  said.  It  was  the

truth, of course, but he pushed the words anyway into the more receptive parts

of their minds to reassure them.

"We're not frightened of you, " the woman snarled. "We  just  don't  want

you here!"

"But we are here, " Jacen said. "And we're here by Sekot's invitation. "

"Then Sekot is wrong, " the first man said. "As Senshi says, it's-"

"Quiet!" snapped one of the kidnappers at the  back,  a  narrow-eyed  man

whose hair came to a  sharp  widow's  peak  above  his  forehead.  "Tell  them

nothing!"

Jacen thought quickly. This "Senshi" who had been mentioned was obviously

someone of influence in their conspiracy-perhaps even their leader.  This  was

the person he needed to be speaking to, rather than wasting  time  arguing  in

the rain. As easy as it would have been to rescue  Danni  now  and  return  to

camp, he knew that in the long run this wouldn't solve anything.  The  problem

wouldn't have been dealt with, which meant further  attempts  on  their  lives

would be made. This needed to be resolved now.

"You came looking for hostages, " he said,  "and  you're  returning  with

one. But three would be better, don't you think?"

"What are you saying?" the woman asked, frowning.

"I'm saying that we don't need to fight. " He indicated Saba,  who  still

had her lightsaber raised and at the ready. "Saba and I will accompany you, as

prisoners, so that we can talk this out properly with Senshi. "

"I still don't trust them, " the woman  said.  She  spoke  to  the  other

Ferroans, but her eyes flitted back and forth between Jacen and Saba.

"If you fight, you'll lose, " Jacen said simply. "And possibly even  die.

But my way nobody has to die, and you  get  to  return  to  Senshi  with  more

hostages than he or she could have hoped for. " Jacen put the  weight  of  the

Force behind the suggestion, trying again  to  breach  the  barrier  of  their

minds. He felt the words find purchase in their thoughts-especially  the  mind

of the man at the back whose comment had silenced everyone. "You know it makes

sense. "

The man nodded slowly. "It does make sense, " he agreed.

The woman at the front turned on  him,  the  look  on  her  face  one  of

perplexity and anger. "Have you gone  mad,  Tourou?  We  can't  take  them  to

Senshi! They'll kill him for sure!"

"Nobody's going to kill anyone, " Jacen assured her. "Here,  look.  "  He

undipped the lightsaber from his belt and tossed it to her. "You can  hold  my

weapon for me, if my word's not enough. "

The woman stared at the lightsaber pommel with something akin to  horror-

as though shocked to be given it, but terrified of what it might do.

Jacen nodded at Saba, who, after an initial hesitation,  deactivated  her

blade and tossed it to the man Jacen had disarmed.  If  she  was  unnerved  by

Jacen's decision, she didn't show  it.  She  was  a  picture  of  impassivity,

awaiting further instruction.

"Very well, " Tourou said. He gestured, and the group  broke  apart.  Two

came cautiously around Jacen's side to  stop  him  from  getting  away,  while

another two did the same with Saba. "Pick up the stretcher, "  Tourou  ordered

his two new captives. "You'll carry your friend. That way you won't be in  any

position to try anything. "

Jacen did as his captors told him, taking the  rear  handles  while  Saba

took the front ones. Her tail swished  agitatedly,  flicking  the  puddles  of

water on the ground. Then they were moving again  through  the  tampasi,  with

three Ferroans leading the way and four at the back.

Jacen looked down at Danni's limp form on the stretcher. Her clothes were

soaked and muddy, and there was a bruise on the side of her head  that  looked

quite nasty. Hopefully she would wake up soon; if she did, a larger degree  of

his uneasiness would be laid to rest, and he could concentrate on settling the

grievances of the rebellious Ferroans. For now,  though,  he  concentrated  on

walking, as well as trying to send his uncle some reassurance that  they  were

okay. But he found it difficult to reach through the Force,  and  the  farther

they went into the tampasi, the fainter the life signals of the others back at

the Ferroan camp became. Not for the first time since leaving them  behind  at

the settlement, he wished he'd brought a comlink with him  so  that  he  could

have at least let them know what was happening. Saba, he presumed, would  have

left hers behind, also, probably under the  collapsed  habitat  with  all  the

other gear. With nothing but the clothing they were wearing,  they  were  both

grossly unprepared for a mission that would take them farther away from  their

friends.

If I handle this correctly, he thought, then maybe we won't be  away  for

long...

As they walked, Saba glanced over her shoulder and said, "This one  hopez

you know what you are doing. "

He shook his head. "Not really. But it's uncertainty that  make  life  so

interesting, don't you think?"

Saba didn't smile at his attempted levity. She just returned her gaze  to

the path ahead and continued walking in silence.

Tahiri's scream was like a cold knife to  Jaina's  heart.  She  felt  the

darkness flex around her. Sudden, striking emotions stabbed at  her  from  all

directions: fear, pain, surprise, hurt. There was no way to separate them, and

no way she could offer succor.

Then an image came to her of Riina crouched before Tahiri, blood dripping

in a steady stream from a wound in her hand. Tahiri  dropped,  too,  clutching

her own arm. Her blue-white lightsaber fell from her hand,  leaving  a  broad,

black scorch mark as it hit the ground.

Jaina was confused for a long moment  as  to  what  had  happened.  In  a

previous memory-image  she  had  seen  the  two  women  confront  each  other.

Something had happened, and Riina had been injured. Now Tahiri appeared to  be

injured, too. Was their mental dueling finally drawing blood?

Tahiri, are you all right? Sithspawn! You have to bear me!

Jaina rattled at the confines of her mental  cell.  As  before,  Tahiri's

mind was in no hurry to let her out, and she was unwilling to force the  issue

for fear of doing more damage. There was no one outside who  could  help,  and

she wasn't certain that her presence here was irrelevant. If she couldn't  get

out, then something wanted her there, even if both Tahiri and  Riina  appeared

to be ignoring her for the moment.

Jaina had seen enough of the fight to know that Riina fought with all the

skills of an alien warrior plus Tahiri's mastery of the Force. The ferocity of

a Yuuzhan Vong combined  with  the  skills  of  a  Jedi  would  make  Riina  a

formidable enemy if she ever took over Tahiri's body. More  than  ever,  Jaina

knew she couldn't let the Yuuzhan Vong girl  win  this  battle.  Jaina's  mind

urged Tahiri to get up.

A memory flash showed both women stirring. Blood  shone  blackly  in  the

blue light. Only then did Jaina realize that Tahiri had inexplicably  incurred

exactly the same injury as Riina, but on the opposite arm.

Realization flashed like lightning in her mind.  Tahiri  and  Riina  were

mirror images fighting each other to the death. What one  did  to  the  other,

they did to themselves. If  Tahiri  defeated  Riina,  then  she  would  defeat

herself in the process. Neither could win!

There was a brief but intense moment in which Tahiri and Riina seemed  to

be arguing with  each  other  without  using  words-as  though  some  kind  of

communication was taking place on an altogether higher plane, one  that  Jaina

was not privy to. Then, in unison, two sets of green eyes turned to look  into

the darkness.

The memory-image faded, but for a terrible second Jaina  knew  that  they

were talking about her. She felt definitely threatened by the double stare.

Another image. Both girls had risen to their  feet,  each  releasing  the

wounds  they'd  been  nursing.  Their  bloodied  hands   reached   for   their

lightsabers. Both weapons flew through the air into their  hands,  the  blades

leaving identical, shining streaks of light through the dark.

Anakin is dead. Tahiri's voice came clearly from the darkness. The  grief

caught in her throat on the last word. I cannot bring him hack.

The terrible, never-forgotten sadness rose in Jaina again, made  all  the

more terrible in this nightmarish setting. She pushed it back and concentrated

on sending Tahiri feelings of love and assurance.

I've run for too long. Tahiri advanced with her lightsaber raised.  Riina

matched her step by step. It's time I faced my fears.

Jaina tensed, unsure what she could do.

As though from a great  distance,  she  thought  she  heard  Jag's  voice

calling to her.

I love you, Jaina, the  voice  whispered  over  the  darkened  landscape.

Please come back to me...

It was an illusion, she knew, a product of wishful thinking. Jag may have

felt such sentiments, but he'd never actually say them. But just  the  thought

of him saying such things was enough to give her the strength she needed.

Face your fears, Tahiri, she told the shadowy world around her.

The dreamscape began to tremble, as though about to dissolve away.

"Krel os'a. Hmi va ta!"

The darkness firmed at the sound of the harsh alien voice, and the  dream

tightened once again.

Leia held on as the  shock  wave  from  another  near  miss  rattled  the

Falcon's bulkheads. C-3PO's stiff arms went up in the air as  he  squawked  in

alarm.

"Oh, my, " he exclaimed. "I do believe that's the closest one  yet.  It's

only a matter of time before one hits home, and then I'm afraid we'll  all  be

done for. "

"Keep it down, Goldenrod, " Han bellowed from  a  service  hatch  in  the

ship's belly. "The Ryn are easily jinxed, you know. "

"Only in ships like this, " Droma  fired  back.  The  two  of  them  were

hastily working on the shield generator power couplings, hoping to gain a  few

extra points of efficiency.

"There's nothing wrong with the Falcon, " Han said as  his  head  emerged

from the service hatch. "Hand me that hydroclamp, will you?"

Droma shook his head as he passed Han the requested tool. "This  must  be

the stupidest plan I've ever heard. "

"Which part?" Leia asked wryly.

"All of it! But especially this. The only thing keeping  us  alive  right

now are the shields. If we accidentally shut them down while  we're  tinkering

with them-

"We're not going to shut them down, " Han grumbled.

"And your confidence comes from having done this kind of  thing  so  many

times before?"

Droma's dig prompted Han to stick his head out from the hatch  again  and

point the clamp at the Ryn.

"Hey, just because I've never actually done this before  doesn't  mean  I

couldn't do it anytime I wanted. "

"So why haven't you?"

"Because I haven't needed to!" He looked to Leia, who was leaning against

the door arch, and said, "Take him back to the cockpit, will you?"

Then he disappeared again into the hatch.

C-3PO turned to Leia in despair. "We're doomed, " he keened.

"And take Goldenrod with you!" Han called out.

"Where are they, Princess?" the droid asked, seemingly oblivious to Han's

annoyance. "Surely they should have been here by now?"

Leia shook her head, not having  an  answer  for  him.  Therein  lay  the

problem. They'd sent the message to Captain Mayn asking for help, but  so  far

there'd been no reply-nor any sign of  the  help  they'd  requested.  She  was

beginning to have one of Han's "bad feelings. " But she didn't  say  anything;

it would have only upset C-3PO further, which in turn would have annoyed Han.

"Try that, Leia!" her husband called.

She quickly returned to the  cockpit  and  attempted  to  up  the  shield

strength. It did increase, but only slightly. "Getting  there,  "  she  called

back.

Her husband appeared through the cockpit entrance a  few  seconds  later,

dropping heavily into the seat next to her and fiddling with the  controls  as

he tried to wring every last megajoule out of the shield generators.

"Come on, girl, " he muttered under his breath. "Show us what-"

A  violent  explosion  from  somewhere  disconcertingly  close   suddenly

thundered around the cabin, almost throwing them from their seats. Out in  the

corridor she heard the clattering sounds of C-3PO falling  over,  followed  by

another plaintive cry. Han furiously punched  controls  with  one  hand  while

clinging on to the console with the other.

"Doomed, I tell you, " they heard C-3PO moan.

Droma entered the cockpit. "I'm with the droid on this. The only thing in

our favor right now is that the Vong don't know our exact whereabouts. But  if

they keep shelling the area like this-"

"Your concerns have been duly  noted,  "  Han  said.  "In  the  meantime,

though, why don't you go back there and have a game of dejarik  with  Cakhmain

and Meewalh or something " Then, louder, "Threepio? How are our hangers-on out

there? They're a lot more fragile than we are. "

The droid waddled into the cockpit and proceeded to warble a  message  to

the Brrbrlpp huddled in the Falcon's protective shield.  In  the  aft  screen,

they could be seen clustered together, the edges of  their  flowerlike  bodies

all touching to form one large, quivering mass.

"The Brrbrlpp assure me that they  are  managing  well  enough,  "  C-3PO

reported after the aliens had replied. "But they fear-as I  and  Master  Droma

do-that it will only be a matter of time before destruction befalls  us.  They

would like to know if we have any other plans."

"Do they really think we'd be sitting here like this if we did?" Han said

irritably.

"Just tell them we're working on it, Threepio, " Leia said.

The droid relayed the message while Leia sat back in her seat to try  and

think of a plan that might get them out of their predicament.

"I think the time has come to move, " Droma said bluntly.

"We can't move, " Han said. "We'll melt our guests. "

"They're going to be melted anyway when those shields fail-and then we'll

all die. "

Han nodded. "Drawing the fire of the Yuuzhan Vong seemed a good  idea  at

the time, but it kind of relied on those upstairs getting our message. "

"Maybe they did get it and just can't do anything about it right  now,  "

Leia said. "Who knows what might be happening up there. "

"Can we use repulsors?" Droma asked.

"We might get a kilometer or two, " Han replied, "but we'll still  be  in

the blast range-and we're just as likely to be hit moving as staying still. "

"Then what about letting our passengers go and blasting out of here  once

they're clear? That way we can draw fire away from them and fight back at  the

same time. "

"But how many will be killed on  the  way?"  Leia  said.  "And  how  many

Yuuzhan Vong will be waiting for us?"

"Okay, then how about digging in?" Droma pressed. "The ground  is  really

just cold sludge here. A good, hot blast would probably melt  a  sizable  hole

into-"

"Yeah, and would stand out like a huge target for any Vong  passing  over

us. " Han shook his head.  "Sorry,  pal.  The  same  argument  stands  against

sending another message for help: once those scarheads detect  it,  they'd  be

onto us in a flash. No, I think we've gone and dug ourselves into a-"

He stopped. A grave, Leia knew he'd been about to say, but the words were

too close to the truth. A cold, dark grave on the edge of  the  known  galaxy,

with no possible way out.

Leia shook her head, frustrated. There bad to be another  solution-a  way

that didn't involve killing any more innocent locals, or ending up in a  worse

position than before!

"I suppose faking surrender is not an option, " Droma offered.

"That doesn't work with the Vong anymore, " Han said.  "They're  wise  to

that game. "

The Ryn nodded and looked at the floor, his tail dropping  limply  behind

him. Outside, the pounding of  Esfandia  rolled  on  like  thunder,  sometimes

close, other times farther away. Whenever the floor beneath  her  shook,  Leia

tensed, each time expecting the shields to fail around them.  The  only  other

sound was the burbling of the planet's indigenous life-forms,  issuing  softly

from the speaker.

"Well, then, " Droma said,  "seeing  as  we  have  no  way  out,  there's

something I should probably tell you. "

"Excuse me, " C-3PO interrupted, his photoreceptors glowing. "I think the

Brrbrlpp may have the solution to our problem. "

Han turned in his seat. "They do?"

"Yes, sir. The Brrbrlpp suggest that we  take  shelter  in  their  nearby

nesting area. It is underground, and easily large enough to fit our vessel. Or

so they say. "

"Why  now?"  Han  interrupted,  his  expression  one  of  annoyance   and

exasperation.

"Sir?"

"Why are they suggesting this now? Why didn't it occur  to  them  before?

They have a love for dramatic irony or something?"

"I don't believe so, sir, " C-3PO answered, unaware of Han's sarcasm. "It

would appear, though, that we have earned their trust. Protecting these few at

great risk to our own lives has demonstrated that our past wrongs were clearly

committed out of ignorance, not malice. "

Han turned to Leia. "What do you think?"

"Can we get there on repulsors alone?" she asked the droid.

"The Brrbrlpp assure us that the nesting area is only  a  short  distance

away. "

"Then-"

Her reply was cut off by another explosion, this one  so  close  that  it

felt as though the entire world was breaking in two. The lights went out for a

couple of seconds, then returned, flickering. Leia's ears rang as Han  checked

the instruments.

"One more like that and we're done for, " he said.

"I don't know about you guys, " Droma said, collecting himself  from  the

floor, "but I think the locals' suggestion sounds wonderful. "

Leia nodded at C-3PO. "Let's do it. "

C-3PO conversed with the Brrbrlpp for a moment.

"They will move to the front and guide  us.  We  are  to  travel  in  the

direction they indicate. "

Han nodded as the wafting aliens propelled themselves to the fore of  the

Falcon's missile tubes. There they arranged themselves into  a  line  pointing

ahead and slightly to starboard.

Han fired up the repulsors and lifted the ship from  Esfandia's  surface.

Dense air swirled around them,  but  the  Brrbrlpp  didn't  appear  disturbed.

Protected within the shields, their ride would have been as smooth as  it  was

for those inside the ship. Even  when  Han  nudged  the  ship  forward,  their

position with respect to the hull remained unchanged.

As the freighter turned to starboard, the line of Brrbrlpp  straightened.

Han took them gently through the  murk,  around  a  knobby  protuberance  that

bulged out of the ground and vanished high above them, like a  mountain.  They

dipped into a crater left behind by one of the Yuuzhan  Vong's  missiles,  and

out again, across an undulating plain. From their slightly higher perspective,

they could see numerous bright flashes  in  the  distance  that  revealed  the

continuing Yuuzhan Vong bombardment. It was disturbingly thorough. It was only

a matter of time before one of those missiles got lucky.

"Is it much farther?" Han asked, obviously sharing  Leia's  concern.  She

felt more exposed moving around than they had been in hiding.

"We should be there at any moment, " C-3PO reported.

"Does anyone else feel as though we're exchanging one tomb for  another?"

Droma asked. "What if the good guys lost the fight up in orbit and we're stuck

down here forever? All the Vong will have to do then is wait us out. "

"I don't like the  look  of  this,  "  Han  muttered,  his  eyes  darting

nervously across the console before him. Several blips  had  appeared  on  the

edge of the long-range scanners, dodging the bombardment sites. They  traveled

in formation at first, but then split up in different directions and zigzagged

across the scope.

"They're sweeping the area at close range, " Han said.

"Guess they got tired of trying to flush us out with bombs alone, " Droma

said, "and have decided to do the dirty work themselves. "

Han nodded. "We're not going to be  able  to  hide  like  this  for  much

longer. "

"Excuse me, sir, but the Brrbrlpp are changing direction. " C-3PO pointed

at the line of aliens guiding them across Esfandia, which was now angling down

instead of forward.

"I don't understand, " Han said, sweeping  the  forward  cam  across  the

stony surface. " I don't see anything. No caves, no tunnels, no-"

A red light began to flash on the scanners.

"Whatever we're supposed to be seeing, Han, " Leia said, "I'd work it out

fast if I were you. That's a coral-skipper heading our way. "

"Ask them what we're supposed to do, will you, Threepio?" Han guided  the

Falcon down as far as he could go.

A wall of gray dirt and rounded pebbles confronted them. Further warbling

was exchanged between C-3PO and the aliens as the droid tried to impress  upon

the Brrbrlpp the urgency of the situation.

"Hurry it up, Threepio, " Han muttered anxiously. "We don't have all day!

"

"We don't even have a minute, " Leia said. "That skip is coming in  fast.

"

"Right, " Han said, clenching  his  jaw  as  he  flicked  switches.  "I'm

warming up the weapons systems and the engines. I don't  care  what's  waiting

for us out there, I'm making a break for it. "

"Han, wait-" Leia started.

She stopped in midsentence. The ground ahead of them  erupted.  At  first

she thought that one of the Yuuzhan Vong missiles had hit them, but it  wasn't

an explosion. The ground opened up like a giant, fanged maw, spreading wide to

swallow the Falcon whole. Leia had time only to gasp in horror at what  looked

like a thousand yellow eyes gleaming at her from the  blackness  within.  Then

the mouth came down upon them, and they were engulfed.

Tahiri struggled to think through a haze  of  tears.  The  voice  of  the

shadow, the thing that had come to her, made her mind  quake  with  fear.  She

didn't know what it  was,  or  what  it  wanted.  It  was  simply  implacable,

unstoppable.

And Riina wanted her to attack it...

What am I doing?  she  asked  herself.  All  she  felt  was  blackness-an

oppressed, choking blackness that constantly threatened to  close  around  her

and devour her whole.

Whatever it is, Riina said, it has to be better than fighting yourself.

You're not me!

And you're not me; but apart, we're not anyone at all.

No! The exclamation came as much from grief as it did anger. The  emotion

was a reaction to Riina's words, but she directed  the  word  at  the  shadow-

creature. She wanted to destroy it, utterly-along with any unwanted truths  it

represented to her.

I don't - She stopped, afraid that to utter  the  words  meant  admitting

defeat. The shadow-creature fell back a  few  steps,  waiting  for  a  renewed

assault. I don't want to lose who I am.

Riina's expression changed to one of  anger-an  anger  that  Tahiri  felt

course through her own body. Neither do I!

The Yuuzhan Vong girl lunged at the shadow. Perhaps  something  flinched,

but Tahiri couldn't be sure. Was there really something out there, or was  she

just dreaming it?

Anakin would have known...

The thought of her friend-the  one  she  loved-brought  with  it  renewed

grief, but not from within. This grief emanated from the darkness around  her.

She dropped her head, to hide from Riina the moisture gathering in  her  eyes.

Nothing seemed to erase the pain that his death had brought her. No amount  of

tears could wash away the thought that there  must  have  been  something  she

could have done to save him. All the determination in the world couldn't  stop

her wishing that he could have lived, and that they were still  together  now,

with every possible future ahead of them.

Even with the reptile god slain by her acceptance of her guilt, the grief

never went away. It had returned as this shadow-creature. Clearly,  it  wasn't

about to let her go. Unless...

A cool breeze blew in from the dark, touching the moisture on her cheeks.

I'm scared, she admitted quietly. This world scares me.

This world is all I've known since Yavin Four, Riina said.

Tahiri looked at  her,  then,  understanding  the  simple  truth  of  her

situation for the first time. This isn't a dream, is it?

I'm as real as the shadow-creature we're fighting.

But Anakin killed you! You were dead!

Anakin thought he killed me, Riina said. But he hadn't. He just forced me

down deep into your unconscious. In many ways I suppose I was dead. I  had  no

body, no senses, nothing to call my own. There was just me,  trapped  in  this

darkness. It was like a nightmare from which there felt  like  no  escape.  At

times I thought I might go mad. In the end, though, I began  to  surface,  and

with me came my suffering and torment-the torment that has been affecting  you

all this time.

Tahiri trembled at the notion. She knew it was the  truth;  she'd  always

known it. She just hadn't wanted to accept it.

It took me months to piece it all together,  Riina  went  on.  And  as  I

recovered, you weakened. It soon became clear to me that I didn't have to stay

in this nightmare world. So I started to fight. Sometimes I even won. You  had

blackouts, and it was during these times that I was able  to  emerge.  But  my

purchase on reality was feeble, and you kept pushing me back here. There  were

many times that I thought I'd be here forever-or worse, disappear altogether!

I wish you had, Tahiri said. She couldn't help the bitterness.

Even then I knew I couldn't, Riina said. Instead I decided to fight  back

all the more. I came after you, wanting to chase you down into the shadows  of

this world-to make you live here instead of me. I  wanted  you  to  experience

this living death so that it would be you who'd wish to  disappear.  But  then

something happened: your guilt came after both of  us!  It  was  then  that  I

realized that the two of us were inseparable. My  torment  was  your  torment;

your guilt was my guilt. And impossible as it seems, Tahiri, we're stuck  with

each other. We either live together, or  we  die  together.  There  is  no  in

between. No! There has to be another way! There isn't. Riina's voice was  firm

and inflexible. Your hand is proof of that. Cut me and you bleed; kill me, and

you die.

Tahiri glanced at the wound Riina had inflicted  on  herself,  which  had

affected her, too, as though by  magic.  Blood  steadily  seeped  through  the

cauterized gash: the truth continued to  trickle  from  it.  Although  Riina's

words felt as heavy upon her shoulders as a thousand tombstones, she knew that

the Yuuzhan Vong girl spoke no lies. There was no point  denying  it  anymore.

Her mind was inextricably linked to Riina's, tangled together like  the  roots

of trees-and they had been ever since Yavin 4. There was no way to cut out one

without injuring the other. They were conjoined twins, connected  at  a  place

where no surgeon's scalpel could ever reach: their minds.

So what are we? she asked. Yuuzhan Vong? Jedi?

We're both, Riina said. And we are neither. We need to  accept  this  and

embrace this hybrid creature we have become. We need  to  merge,  Tahiri,  and

become one.

But who will I be?

You'll be someone new, Riina said. You'll be someone strong.

Tahiri couldn't talk any longer. Her tears choked her  thoughts,  blurred

her vision again. She stared into the shadows around  them,  seeking  out  the

guilt-creature hiding there. Was this how  she  was  to  "embrace"  Riina?  By

killing this creature? Would they then, together, awaken  from  this  terrible

nightmare? It felt right on some level, and yet on another it seemed...  dark.

It felt wrong. And yet there seemed no other way!

A cry sounded out from the darkness. The shadow-creature, her guilt,  was

calling out to her again. She couldn't understand the words, but the sentiment

was there in her tone.

My guilt calls out to me, she said.

You have nothing to feel guilty for! Riina insisted.

My love is dead, and I am alive. And I carry with me the kiss  he  wanted

me to share with him. I told him to collect it later, but there was no  later.

Was there?

Do you think that's what you're accused of? They are  not  the  words  of

your guilt, Tahiri; those are your own words!

How do you know what I'm feeling?

How do I know? Haven't you been listening to what I've  been  saying?  We

are one and the same mind!

Tahiri recoiled in revulsion at the idea, although she knew it to be  the

truth. She was just still railing against it. Her thoughts had  been  open  to

her alien twin all along.

You've been punishing yourself, punishing us,  Riina  said,  and  it  has

nothing to do with Anakin's death or holding back on a kiss.

Then what is it?

You feel guilt for having gotten on with your life. It's not that you are

alive; it's that you've learned to live without Anakin.  It's  that  you  have

healed, and you don't think you should have by now.

Tahiri wanted to refute it, but she couldn't. The  truth  burned  her  in

ways she couldn't ignore.

You have to let go, Tahiri. There is no shame in that. The time has  come

to stop grieving. You have already stopped; you just don't know it yet. That's

all.

Bitterness clouded Tahiri's vision. She hated Riina  for  speaking  words

that revealed the truth of her feelings. Angrily  she  hurled  her  lightsaber

into the dark. It spun wildly through the air, lighting up the shadows  as  it

went, illuminating the rocks and crags of the worldship they stood on. And  as

it cut through the darkness, she could feel her grief ease and part; she could

feel a sense of awakening.

I know what to do now, she told Riina. Even as she spoke the  words,  she

quailed, thinking of everything she might be leaving behind. The Solo  family,

her duty as a Jedi, her memories-

But, she suddenly asked herself, how much of it was hers at all? Anakin's

family wasn't hers. The Jedi Knights could carry on well enough  without  her.

And her memories only served to bring her pain. As long as she didn't fall  to

the dark side, she could turn her back on it all with a clear conscience...

The time for thinking was over. Slowly, with a feeling like falling,  she

reached out, and her lightsaber flew back into her hand.

At the same time, the shadows seemed to part. She saw the thing that  had

come for her and Riina with startling clarity. It wasn't a god from the bowels

of an alien mind; it wasn't the  dark  side;  it  wasn't  her  guilt,  or  her

despair.

It was Jaina.

Tahiri turned to face her mirror image one last time.

I know what you're thinking, Riina said. You mustn't listen to what she's

saying. She's telling you lies, making things worse. She doesn't want to help.

She only wants to keep you caged, with me. Riina stepped closer,  her  injured

hand outstretched. Join me now; together we will do what we need to do  to  be

free.

Yes, Tahiri said slowly. I think I understand now.

So let's not think. Let's just do it.

Shakily, Tahiri reached out and took Riina's hand.  Together  they  faced

the darkness.

"If we don't start getting some answers soon, "  Mara  said  hotly,  "I'm

going to start giving you people reasons to be afraid of the Jedi. "

Luke attempted to placate his wife by putting his hands on her  shoulders

beneath her red cascade of hair. But she was too angry  to  see  reason  right

now, and ignored his efforts.

"I'm telling you the truth, " returned the Ferroan  woman  called  Darak.

"We don't know who is responsible for this attack!"

"Somebody must know!" Mara argued. "Dissident groups like this don't just

pop up overnight. They take time to form. "

"The idea of a dissident group is  preposterous,  "  Rowel  said.  "There

hasn't been any unrest on Zonama for decades!"

"Well, there is now! I'm telling you: that attack was  well  planned  and

organized. Look, " she said, "I'm not trying to be critical of you or your way

of life here. I just want to know what's happened to  our  friends.  The  fact

that you don't seem to care annoys me. "

"But we do care, " Rowel said. "We  care  that  strangers  are  wandering

loose on our planet doing untold damage. We care-"

Luke didn't give him chance to finish; he was only going  to  anger  Mara

further. "Perhaps Sekot could help us, " he said. "Is it possible to ask it if

it knows of their whereabouts?"

The Ferroans exchanged glances. "Sekot has been  regenerating  after  the

attack of the Far Outsiders, " Darak said. "Its attention has been  elsewhere,

so it is unlikely to know the whereabouts of your friends. "

"We could at least ask, " Mara pressed. "What  about  the  Magister?  She

could ask for us. "

"She is resting. "

"Well, we wouldn't want to put her out, would we?" Mara said dryly.

"Please wake her for us, " Luke said, his calm  tone  a  counterpoint  to

Mara's growing irritability. "After  all,  I'm  sure  she  would  want  to  be

informed about a development as important as this, don't you?"

The Ferroans exchanged another glance, then Darak hurried off  to  do  as

the Jedi asked.

Luke felt little satisfaction at having accomplished that  much.  It  was

only the first of many hurdles. The rain was still falling, dripping down from

the trees in a steady, fat-dropped stream.  Somewhere  deep  in  the  tampasi,

Jacen, Saba, and Danni remained hidden from his senses. If they didn't  return

of their own accord, he would be hard-pressed to find them  without  Sekot  or

the Magister's help.

"You are mistaken to believe that Sekot is aware  of  all  things  taking

place on its surface, " Rowel said. "It is no more capable of  this  than  you

would be of tracking every cell in your body. "

"It seemed to find us easily enough when we arrived, " Mara said.

"Out in space it is different. A grain of sand is immediately  noticeable

if it gets in your eye, but that same grain of sand would be almost impossible

to find on a beach. " The Ferroan  looked  uncomfortable.  "We  have  notified

surrounding communities to be on the lookout for  anyone  moving  through  the

tampasi. Darak will also try to coax the airships into flying in this weather.

Perhaps they can discern something from above  that  we  are  missing  on  the

ground. "

"That's a good start, " Luke said. "Thank you. "

"Please don't believe that this kind of behavior is normal for my people.

We are peaceful. This sort of thing simply doesn't happen here. "

"Fear of that which is new or different can make people act irrationally,

" Mara said, putting on a conciliatory tone. " But all that concerns us now is

finding our friends. "

"I can assure you that they will be found. We will  make  every  possible

effort. "

A sudden feeling came through the Force. Luke closed his eyes in order to

focus on it. It was coming from some  distance  away,  but  the  intense  life

energies of the tampasi made it impossible to tell  which  direction  it  came

from.

Mara touched his arm. "You feel it, too?"

He opened his eyes, nodding. "It's Jacen.  I  think  he's  safe  for  the

moment. I sensed no immediate danger. "

"Are they on their way back?" Hegerty asked.

"I'm not sure, " Luke said. "I don't think so. "

"What about the others?" Hegerty pressed. "Are they all right?"

"I can't tell, " Luke said, reaching into the  Force  in  an  attempt  to

understand the message that Jacen was trying to send. "But I think they're all

okay, for the moment. "

"We should still try to find them, though, " Mara said.

Luke nodded. "Yes. "

Rowel opened his mouth to say something but was cut  off  by  the  sudden

return of Darak. Her expression was one of profound alarm.

"She's gone!" she exclaimed.

"Who?" Mara said. "Who's gone?"

"The Magister!" The panic in her voice gave her an air  of  vulnerability

Luke hadn't seen before. "She's been taken from her rooms!"

"What do you mean 'taken'?" Rowel asked, aghast. "Why  would  anybody  do

that?"

"I think  I  know,  "  Luke  said.  "The  kidnap  of  Danni  was  just  a

distraction. She wasn't who the kidnappers were after. It was  Jabitha.  While

you were busy here trying to sort things out, they moved in on her. "

The  alarm  in  Darak's  and  Rowel's  eyes  increased  tenfold  at   the

suggestion.

"First Danni, " Mara said, "then Jacen and Saba, and  now  the  Magister.

Could anyone else possibly go missing before tonight is over?"

Jag reached Tahiri's room  in  record  time.  There  he  found  Pride  of

Selonia's chief medic, Dantos Vigos, and Selwin Markota, Captain Mayn's second

in command. Both looked up, startled, as he skidded through the doorway  to  a

halt.

On the bed beside Tahiri was Jaina, her outstretched form dressed in  the

clothes she usually wore  about  the  ship.  Her  eyes  were  shut,  her  face

expressionless, and her breathing was fast and shallow.

"What happened?" he asked, wrenching off his flight helmet. He was unable

to take her eyes from her face.

"Relax, Jag, " Markota said. He put a  hand  on  his  shoulder,  but  Jag

shrugged it off.

"I'll relax when I know what's going on. "

"That's the problem, " Vigos said. "We don't know  what's  going  on.  We

found Jaina unconscious shortly after arriving around Esfandia. No one noticed

before then because of all the confusion and the  fighting.  She  was  slumped

beside Tahiri,  having  collapsed  onto  the  bed.  Their  hands  were  locked

together.  We've  scanned  them  both  and  found   no   signs   of   physical

abnormalities, but their minds are furiously active. "

Jag faced the medic with a frown. "How do you account for this?"

Vigos shrugged. "I don't. "

"But you must have an idea, " Jag said.  "You  must  have  a  theory,  at

least!"

Vigos sighed wearily. "Okay, but it's only a theory based  on  what  I've

been told of Tahiri's background and recent behavior. In  my  opinion,  Tahiri

has retreated into herself. She has a split personality that is  fighting  for

dominance over the body. I think Tahiri  has  deliberately  internalized  that

conflict-she's keeping it in her head so that neither personality  has  access

to the outside world. "

"I can understand that, " Jag said. "But what does this have to  do  with

Jaina?"

"I think they've melded, " Vigos said. "I'm not a  Jedi,  but  I  suspect

that Jaina may have attempted this  in  an  effort  to  assist  Tahiri.  She's

helping Tahiri survive. "

Jag studied Jaina's face. Despite the appearance  of  being  asleep,  she

looked exhausted.

"So why won't she respond?" he asked. "If she's in there voluntarily, why

doesn't she just wake up and tell us what's going on?"

"It's impossible for me to say for sure, " Vigos admitted. "I'm sorry. "

A bizarre image came to Jag then-one  he  couldn't  quite  get  his  head

around. He pictured Tahiri's mind as some sort of animal trap, snaring  anyone

who ventured within it. Jedi after Jedi could throw themselves in and be  lost

forever. But how could this possibly serve Riina?

The three men stared at the two unconscious women for a long,  frustrated

moment. Jag didn't want to let the matter lie there, but he wasn't  sure  what

he could do about it. Had he been Force-sensitive, he wouldn't have  hesitated

to try to join the meld. The woman he-

His mind retreated from the admission, then grasped it  and  kept  going.

Yes, the woman he loved was in danger. There had to be something he could do.

"Maybe you're right, " he said. "Maybe you have done everything  you  can

to help her. But I can still try. "

Vigos glanced uncertainly at Markota, then back to  Jag.  "What  did  you

have in rnind?"

"I'll talk to her, " he said. "If she is in there, she'll be able to hear

me. "

"Colonel, we've tried-"

"Just leave me alone with her, okay?" Jag interrupted.

Markota hesitated, then nodded to the medic. "We've got nothing to  lose.

"

Vigos acquiesced. "Okay. But call if there's any change in her condition.

"

"I will, " Jag promised.

When they were gone and the door had shut behind them, Jag put his flight

helmet down on the end of the bed and sat beside Jaina. He took her free  hand

in both of his. It was limp and lifeless, and cool to the touch.  Despite  his

determination to want to help her, now that he was alone he had to admit  that

he really didn't know if there was anything useful he could do. There  was  no

enemy he could line up in a targeting reticle and fire upon;  there  was  just

Jaina, locked in the mind of a very sick young woman who also needed help.

"I'm here, " he whispered close  in  to  her  ear.  "And  I'm  not  going

anywhere, Jaina. Not until you wake up. You know what that means,  don't  you?

It means that Twin Suns Squadron is unattended. And we can't  have  that,  can

we?"

He stared at her face in silence. He hadn't really expected his words  to

have an immediate impact upon her condition, but he couldn't help hoping  they

would-that just hearing his voice would be enough to make her come  back.  But

when he searched her expression for any sign of recognition,  he  found  none.

She remained still, emotionless, sleeping...

He squeezed her hand between his. Although he knew the room was  probably

being monitored, he didn't care who saw him,  who  heard  him,  or  who  might

disapprove of his sentiments. All he cared about right now was Jaina. And from

the way his heart ached, that's all he felt he could ever care about.

"I love you, Jaina, " he said. The words came  easily  for  him.  "Please

come back to me."

Saba kept all her senses alert as she matched her pace  to  that  of  the

Ferroan kidnappers. The path they'd been following had run out  half  an  hour

earlier, and they were now moving  through  unbeaten  wilds  of  the  tampasi.

Despite the lack of any obvious trail, though, the  Ferroans  seemed  to  know

where they were going. They moved as one with silent determination through the

dense undergrowth. Every now and then they gave directional orders to  her  or

Jacen, but never allowed themselves to enter any conversation. Nor  were  they

prepared to come within a meter of her-although Saba had no doubts  that  this

would  change  once  they  reached  the  camp  where  Senshi  and  the   other

conspirators were meant to be located. Security of  numbers  would  inevitably

make them feel less intimidated by the Jedi Knights.

The farther they traveled, the more uneasy Saba became-mainly because  of

Danni's condition. She knew that Jacen would never knowingly put Danni's  life

in jeopardy, and the fact that the young scientist  remained  unconscious  was

obviously weighing heavily on his mind, but Saba still felt compelled to  take

the girl and try to find a way back to the others in the hope of  getting  her

some medical attention. The only thing that stayed her urges was her trust  in

Jacen's judgment. He saw things  differently  from  her,  on  a  deeper,  more

fundamental level, and for that reason she was prepared to bow to his command.

They came to a bridge formed from a massive  tree  trunk  that  stretched

across a swollen river. Three of the Ferroans crossed first,  then  waved  for

Saba and Jacen to follow. Once they were on the other side, the remaining four

Ferroans crossed also, then the trek continued  through  a  dense  thicket  of

wild, red-leaved bushes. Sharp thorns slashed at Saba's tough green skin.  She

did her best to avoid the worst of it, and to keep Danni from being scratched,

subtly using the Force to push the thicket branches aside.

Finally they came to a cliff face that was hidden from view by a stand of

enormous boras. At the base of the cliff was an overhang five meters high  and

stretching a dozen meters into the rock. Jacen and Saba  were  directed  under

its shelter, where a larger group of Ferroans waited.

They gathered around the new arrivals as they entered the  shaded,  sandy

area, parting only to admit a very old Ferroan male to the front. His face was

as heavily lined as Jabitha's, but his rich, deep black hair was short to  the

scalp. The pale blueness of his skin made him look as though he were  composed

entirely of ice, and his goldand-black eyes regarded  the  new  arrivals  with

ill-disguised contempt.

His gaze flickered across Saba, Jacen, and the comatose Danni. "I ask for

one of the visitors as a hostage, and you bring me the entire group.  What  is

the meaning of this?"

A look of confusion passed over Tourou's face. "Three seemed better  than

one, Senshi..." The residue of the implanted suggestion from Jacen had  faded,

and the kidnapper's sentence trailed off uncertainly.

"You fool," the old man said. "The outsiders have ways about them-ways to

make their words seem reasonable."

"It's true that I influenced their decision  to  bring  us  here,"  Jacen

said, "but I only did so because I wanted to speak with  you.  It's  important

that you see reason. We didn't come to your planet to cause trouble;  we  came

because-"

Senshi's laugh cut him short. "Don't try to win me with your words, Jedi!

I respond to actions, not empty words or promises. The recent actions  against

our world speak volumes!"

"Those attacks came from the ones you refer to as Far  Outsiders,"  Jacen

said. "They had nothing to do with us."

"You are all outsiders in our eyes,"  he  argued.  "The  actions  of  one

reflect intentions of the other."

"And what about your actionz?" Saba  asked.  "What  does  kidnapping  say

about you?"

Before Senshi could reply, a peal of thunder rumbled through the tampasi,

and rain began to crash down with renewed strength outside  the  overhang.  As

the thunder died in the distance, Senshi looked triumphantly at  his  hostages

and ignored Saba's question completely.

At that moment, another group of  Ferroans  stumbled  n  from  the  rain,

bearing another body on  a  stretcher,  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  a

tarpaulin. Her first thought was that the kidnappers had  returned  for  Soron

Hegerty and somehow  snatched  the  elderly  woman  from  he  care  of  Master

Skywalker and Mara. But when the lew  arrivals  set  down  the  stretcher  and

pulled back the tarp, Saba's concern quickly changed to puzzlement. It  wasn't

Hegerty at all; it was the Magister.

Senshi stared down at the unconscious figure, smiling thinly.  "Now  they

won't be able to ignore us."

There was a murmur from the Ferroans standing around him.

Jacen stepped forward. "Why would you do this? Why take the Magister?"

"Because she has forgotten," he sneered. "She has forgotten the pain  and

suffering we endured  the  last  time  strangers  came  here  after  years  of

searching: the fires and  the  groundquakes;  the  terrible  losses  as  whole

villages fell; the hurricanes that tore entire boras out by their  roots;  the

smoke that covered the sky. She forgets that we all lost loved ones, and  that

we stand to lose more if we allow her to throw away  everything  we've  worked

for. We didn't come here to rest and rebuild and then  just  throw  everything

away on a whim! We came here for sanctuary."

"You remember the time before the Crossings?" Jacen asked.

"As clearly as  if  it  were  yesterday,"  Senshi  said,  his  expression

haunted. "I lost my children, my partner,  my  parents,  and  my  brother  and

sister. And I lost too many friends to even count! I was alone, wishing that I

had died with hem. But I was spared; I lived on. I endured with  Sekot  as  ye

searched for sanctuary, and I rejoiced when we finally found the peace we  had

so long yearned for. And now I feel  misgivings  at  the  return  of  the  Far

Outsiders-as well as the Jedi." He indicated the storm raging anew outside the

overhang. "We have seen this combination before; we know what it means. I will

not let the Magister plunge us into another cycle of death  and  destruction."

"Sekot welcomed us here," Jacen protested. "Did it? I have only the Magister's

word on that."

"Why would she lie?"

"Because by forgetting, she  has  become  confused.  And  that  confusion

weakens her, putting us all at risk. I for one do not want  to  become  cannon

fodder in someone else's war."

Saba could sympathize with the man. She felt his pain as  keenly  as  she

felt her own. Had she been faced with the possibility of losing her loved ones

and her homeworld over again, she, too, would probably take drastic  steps  to

prevent it. But she couldn't imagine the Magister ignoring either the will  of

her people-if Senshi's feelings were widespread-or the  will  of  Sekot.  That

would run counter to her purpose. It was unlikely that  Sekot  would  tolerate

such behavior in the person it had chosen to act as  mediator  between  itself

and its citizens.

"So what happens now?" Jacen asked. "What do you hope to achieve  by  all

this?"

"We have achieved as much as we  dared  dream,"  Senshi  replied.  "We've

shown that we cannot be easily ignored. When the Magister wakes, she will have

no choice but to listen to us. And if that fails, if she still turns her  back

on us, we still have you  to  bargain  with.  Either  way,  disaster  will  be

averted."

"But by turning your backs on us" Jacen said, "you risk  a  much  greater

disaster."

"Such as?"

"Such as the domination of the galaxy by a power  more  destructive  than

you could possibly imagine. Once that power has consolidated its forces on the

ruins of our worlds, it will come for you. The Far  Outsiders  may  have  been

repelled once, but they won't be so easily repelled when this system is filled

with their warships. They will seed every planet in the system with biological

factories  in  order  to  replace  every  ship  you  destroy.  They'll   place

interdictors across the entrances to this hyperspace bubble to make  sure  you

can't escape. And what happens then, Senshi? Who will you call upon  for  help

when everyone else in the galaxy is gone?"

The young human spoke with the confidence of one in possession of a cold,

hard truth, and Saba could see through Senshi's  glare  that  what  Jacen  was

saying was having an impact-even if he didn't want to admit it.

"You will never convince me that we need your help."

"Thankfully it's not you we  need  to  convince,"  Jacen  replied.  "It's

Sekot. And if you truly have the best interests of the planet at  heart,  then

you'll abide by its decision. Whether it listens to  me  through  you  or  the

Magister, it will hear my words-and then it can decide for itself."

A low rumble rolled in across the tampasi at the  conclusion  of  Jacen's

challenge. Saba felt an  involuntary  muscular  contraction  ripple  down  her

spine. The Ferroans were  silent,  transfixed  by  the  confrontation  between

Senshi and Jacen. There was fear in their eyes, as well as uncertainty.

"It's been a long day," Senshi said after a  few  moments.  "We  are  all

tired. Unless the Magister wakes before, we will rest until dawn. By the light

of day, things may be clearer."

"We will stay until then," Jacen said. His tone was soft, but  there  was

no escaping the antagonism of his words.

"You'll stay until I decide you can leave," he returned coldly.

"This one iz prepared to argue the  point,  "  Saba  said,  matching  his

frosty tone.

The Ferroan leader shot her a baleful glare, but didn't challenge her. He

turned his back on them and issued orders to the rest of the  kidnappers.  The

group slowly dissolved into clumps of people unfolding bedrolls  and  breaking

out supplies. Tourou guided Saba and Jacen to a  niche  at  the  rear  of  the

overhang, where they lay Danni's stretcher down and covered her with blankets.

There, surrounded by nervous Ferroans, they made  themselves  comfortable  for

what little remained of the night. Saba had no  intentions  of  sleeping,  and

neither, clearly, did Jacen. He sat up, his face glowing  in  infrared  as  he

stared past the Ferroan guard to where Senshi stood talking to a couple of his

people.

"What now?" Saba asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He faced her in the dark. "Now we wait."

"Do you have a plan?"

"None at the moment, except to demonstrate to Senshi that we  don't  mean

them any harm-no matter how much they try to provoke us."

"We don't have to cause them harm," Saba  said.  "This  one  could  carry

Danni while you free the Magister. Together-"

"Too difficult," Jacen responded. "There are too many of them.  Someone's

bound to get hurt. We can afford to be patient a little longer."

Saba wasn't so sure.

"Danni haz been unconscious a long time, Jacen," she reminded  him.  "She

will need medical attention soon."

Jacen looked down at the unconscious scientist. One hand reached  out  to

brush damp strands of hair from her face. "She'll be all right," he said.  The

Force stirred at his touch, to help promote healing. "I'm sure she will."

But he couldn't look  at  Saba  as  he  said  it,  and  he  didn't  sound

convinced.

* * *

Tahiri trembled as she felt the shadow of Jaina, lost in  the  prison  of

her mind.

Let's kill her! Riina said, her voice full of eagerness. She's vulnerable

in here, and we'll take her by surprise.

No, Tahiri said simply. No, we mustn't. I mustn't. To  do  so  would  not

relieve me of my grief; it would compound it. To kill her would send me to the

dark side. And that's what you'd like, isn't it, Riina? That's why you clouded

my sight, so I couldn't see!

The Yuuzhan Vong girl seemed infinitely smaller than  she  had  a  moment

earlier.

You spoke the truth when you said we could never be  separated,  but  you

feel that if I embrace the dark side then I will become a  prisoner  of  these

shadow lands, allowing you to become the dominant personality.

Riina said nothing in return.

Tahiri shook her head. I would sooner we  both  stay  here  forever  than

unleash you upon my world!

Riina snarled and tried to  pull  away,  but  Tahiri  held  tight.  Their

fingers were slick with blood, but her will was strong.

It's time, she said. I'm tired of being lost.

The ragged edges of their wound sought each other and sealed as though it

had never existed. Tahiri gasped at the unsettling sensation, and heard  Riina

do the same. She watched with alarm as their entwined fingers melted into each

other, as though their skin  had  wrapped  around  both  hands,  binding  them

together. Tahiri met Riina's eyes and recognized the  horror  she  saw  there.

Then the two of them stared as the lumpy knot of flesh that was their combined

hands began to spread along their arms. Tahiri  could  see  the  bones  moving

beneath, testing their new environment. Then the knot began to move  up  their

forearms, drawing them closer together.

Riina continued to try to fight it, but  Tahiri  refused  to  relent-even

though she shared the Yuuzhan Vong girl's fear  and  revulsion  for  what  was

happening to them.

There's still time to change your mind, Riina cried as she struggled.  We

don't have to do this!

You're wrong, Tahiri said. We do have to do this. It's the only way.

Despite her determination,  though,  the  words  didn't  ease  the  dread

tightening in her chest. While she felt sure that this was what needed  to  be

done, she really didn't know what the result was going to be.

The knot reached their elbows, and Tahiri felt her hand sliding under the

skin to Riina's shoulder. It felt as though an outside  force  were  at  work,

pulling the mirror image of herself into a tight embrace.

Tahiri met Riina's wide-eyed stare again.

We must embrace, she told her Yuuzhan Vong counterpart. Our cultures, our

beliefs, our knowledge.

Some of the fear ebbed from Riina's gaze,  then.  We  must  embrace,  she

concurred. Our emotions, our lives, our selves.

Tahiri took a deep breath as the knot of skin  reached  their  heads  and

slowly pulled them together so that their noses were almost touching.

The good and the bad, Riina  said,  her  lips  brushing  lightly  against

Tahiri's own.

The light and the dark, Tahiri said. We must embrace...

"It's a trap!" Droma's cry of  alarm  was  echoed  by  C-3PO,  who  threw

himself backward as the floor tipped beneath them and  Millennium  Falcon  was

sucked down into the gaping maw.

Leia hung on desperately while Han struggled to  reach  the  controls  in

front of him. From his annoyed expression, she knew that he was about to blast

their way out of danger-and he wasn't about to consult with the aliens  before

doing so, either.

But there was something about the unfolding  space  ahead  of  them  that

caught Leia's eye. Still gripping her seat, she leaned forward in the hope  of

getting a better look.

"I think I know what it is!" she said.

"I don't care what it is! Anything intending to eat us is trouble!"

"That's not what it's doing. Look!"

All eyes in the cockpit turned to the display just as the maw  fell  shut

around them. The light-enhancing algorithms adjusted  to  this  new  level  of

darkness, searching out infrared and  other  frequencies  for  information  on

their new environment. The Falcon seemed to be surrounded by numerous vertical

columns, like teeth in an enormous mouth.

But if it was a mouth, it wasn't eating them. There was  no  rending,  no

crushing, nothing at all to indicate that they were about to be ingested  into

the belly of some giant subterranean beast.

"See those columns?" Leia said, pointing at the display.  "They're  legs.

And as for the eyes..." She watched  carefully  as  the  sensors  scanned  the

ceiling.

Han chuckled before she could  finish  what  she'd  been  about  to  say.

"Portholes, right?"

"The relay base?" Droma sounded as though he  could  hardly  believe  his

eyes-or his luck.

"It was here all along," Han said, cutting power  to  the  repulsors  and

letting the Falcon settle to the bottom.

"Perhaps not." Leia watched as a slender wire snaked out of the gloom and

attached itself to the hull of the battered freighter. "Don't go  giving  your

Solo luck any medals just yet."

"This is Commander Ashpidar of Esfandia Long-Range Communications  Base,"

came an emotionless, female voice

from the comm. Leia identified its  speaker  as  a  Gotal,  which  seemed

appropriate. The bi-horned, energy-sensitive beings  would  perfectly  suit  a

gloomy place like Esfandia. "I'm sorry we took  so  long  getting  here.  Word

travels slowly among the Cold Ones."

"You know who we are?" Leia asked, making sure  to  reply  the  same  way

Ashpidar's communications arrived - along the wire. The  Yuuzhan  Vong  search

parties were too close to risk any sort of broadcast.

"We know you came to help us,  and  that's  all  that  matters.  We  were

sheltering in some nesting plains several dozen kilometers from here when word

arrived. The tunnels connecting the plains are  cramped  but  easy  enough  to

negotiate. We came as soon as we could."

"How many are there under your command?"

"Fifteen," Ashpidar replied. "We lost two  when  the  bombardment  began.

They were servicing one of the detectors when the Yuuzhan Vong  destroyed  it.

The rest of us are in here, though-safe for the moment."

Leia hoped that remained the situation. Taking in the Falcon had  been  a

calculated risk with the Yuuzhan Vong searching so fervently above. She  would

hate to be responsible for any more lives lost.

She quickly identified herself, Han, and Droma, and put  a  name  to  the

ship. Then she explained what they were doing there, and  who  they'd  brought

with them to defend the base.

"Imperials?" the Gotal  said,  surprised.  "They're  the  last  people  I

expected to see you working with."

"Times change," Han said. "But listen, we're going to need  to  work  out

what we're going to do next."

"I will organize a docking umbilical to enable us  to  meet  and  discuss

this in person."

"That's a good idea," Leia said. "We'll have to find a way  to  keep  you

safe until the Yuuzhan Vong leave."

"We're safe enough right where we are," Ashpidar said tonelessly. "Unless

we break comm silence or expose ourselves, we could hide here indefinitely."

"Assuming their tactics don't change, of course."

"Speaking of which," Droma said, waving for silence. "Listen."

Leia and Han did so, but the only sound to be heard was that of  the  air

scrubbers recycling air through the cockpit.

"I don't hear anything," Han said.

The Ryn nodded, his tail sweeping the floor behind him. "The  bombardment

has stopped. And that can only mean one thing."

"They've given up?" Han said.

Droma frowned. "Actually, I  was  thinking  more  along  the  lines  that

they're coming down for a closer look."

Leia's stomach sank. She liked the  sound  of  her  husband's  suggestion

better, but she knew Droma was right.

"Commander, you'd better get that umbilical across fast,"  she  said.  "I

think we're going to be having company real soon."

Luke and Mara stayed up with the Ferroans as they attempted to locate the

kidnappers. Airships came and went throughout the  night,  moving  across  the

stormy sky like ghostly clouds. A vast root system covered the entire  planet,

Luke learned, linking boras to boras, tampasi to tampasi  in  a  vast  organic

network. Communications traveled along the  network  with  representatives  of

far-flung sections of the globe getting involved  in  the  discussion  of  the

abduction. Some had suggestions to make; others just called to  express  their

fear and uncertainty at the thought that the Magister might be in any danger.

Darak and Rowel assured them all that everything would work  out  in  the

end. Their voices were calm, but Luke knew that they were  more  worried  than

they were prepared to admit.

That worry only increased  as  hints  began  to  emerge  from  the  boras

network, reports of missing people and notes offering the first hints into the

minds of the kidnappers. A sketch of a conspiracy formed, one that  had  acted

exceedingly quickly to take advantage of the Jedi Knights' arrival. Almost too

quickly, Luke thought...

"Any idea what this Senshi might want?" Mara asked.

Rowel shook his head. "None, I'm afraid."

"I know of Senshi," Darak said. "He comes from  one  of  the  settlements

farther north. He has a plantation up there  where  he  grows  rogir-bolns-the

white fruit whose pulp you were served earlier. He's known for  his  talks  on

the Crossings and what it was like. He's also very vocal about his ideal of  a

perfect and pure Zonama-which involves the exclusion of any outsiders."

"Does he have any history of active dissent?" Luke asked.

"Not that I'm aware  of,"  Darak  said.  "But  he  does  have  a  lot  of

supporters. He'd certainly have the resources and contacts to put such a  plan

into motion."

"Is it possible he's taking the hostages to his plantation?" Mara asked.

"No." Darak was  firm  on  this.  "The  plantation  is  in  the  opposite

direction from the one we know they took. We have  people  waiting  there,  in

case they've doubled back, but I don't expect them to find anything."

Luke sighed tiredly. The occasional wave of reassurance came from  Jacen,

but his nephew's  presence  in  the  Force  was  still  weak  and  indistinct.

Nevertheless, that he was getting anything at all was a  good  sign,  and  for

that he was thankful.

After a seemingly endless night, a greenish dawn finally began to  filter

through the treetops. The rain eased slightly, and some of the forest's  fauna

emerged from hiding. Gleaming birds swooped through the long  branches,  while

lithe, long-limbed climbers emerged from shelters in the nooks of tree  trunks

to collect and munch on fronds and flowers. Sinuous  tentacles  swayed  around

the bases of the massive boras, almost as though licking at the  mobile  fungi

that moved around the trunks in search of sunlight.

Everywhere Luke looked, he saw life stirring. Resources moved up the food

chain as one creature ate another, then back down via waste and  decay.  There

was a dynamic joyousness to the  scene  that  put  some  of  his  concerns  in

perspective. No matter what happened  to  Jacen,  Saba,  and  Danni,  or  even

Jabitha, life here would continue to go on, much as it had before.

Captain Yage called from the Widowmaker  as  Zonama's  terminator  rolled

westward around the planet, bringing dawn wherever it touched.

"Everything's quiet up here," she said. "I'm maintaining the orbit  we've

been given, not deviating a centimeter. I've sent probes  across  the  system,

but there's no sign of the Yuuzhan Vong."

"Any word from Mon Calamari?"

"Not  a  peep.  Either  they're  ignoring  our  hails  or  someone's  cut

communications between here and there."

"I'll give you one guess who that someone might be," Mara said.

"Have the Chiss reported any concerted troop movements on the  border  of

the Unknown Regions?" Luke asked.

"Not on their side," she said. "But if  someone's  taken  out  the  relay

bases between here and home, they wouldn't need to come that far."

"Well, here's hoping someone else is  doing  something  about  it,"  Mara

said. "I'd hate us to have good news and no one to tell it to."

Luke clicked his comlink and called Tekli. The Jedi healer was awake  and

had little to report.  Jade  Shadow  was  still  held  fast  by  the  planet's

vegetation, but nothing had made a move on her so far, which Luke was thankful

to hear. It seemed that the policy of nonaggression  was  having  exactly  the

response that he and Jacen had hoped for. Sekot clearly  wasn't  about  to  do

anything unless they attacked first...

As the light of day strengthened, it became apparent that the  kidnappers

weren't about to be found in a hurry. Even with the storm  easing,  they  were

still no closer to finding Jabitha or Jacen, Saba, and Danni.

After nibbling at slices of fruit that  had  been  served  in  bowls  for

breakfast, Hegerty stood up to stretch. The doctor looked  weary  and  haggard

after the long and troubled night. Luke had suggested she try to get some rest

on a couple of occasions, but she had said there was no way she  could  sleep-

not with the others still missing and  the  kidnappers  still  at  large.  The

doctor was no fighter, and the attempt on her life the night before  had  left

her understandably rattled.

"Are you okay, Soron?"

The doctor nodded. "Just thinking."

"What about?"

She stepped back up to the group around the fire. "Well,  Senshi  has  to

have kidnapped the Magister for a reason, right?"

"Right."

"Well, it seems to me that, if it wasn't to harm her or ask for a ransom,

then it could have only been for one reason."

"Which is?"

"He wants to talk to her." She nodded thoughtfully for a  moment.  "Maybe

she didn't want to give Senshi the implied approval that  would  bring  before

now. Maybe she did listen, but ignored him. But since all of our  attempts  to

locate his group have so far failed, she may now have no other choice."

"You sound like that would be a bad thing," Luke said.

"That depends entirely on what he's got to say, I guess." Hegerty  rubbed

the bump on her head left by the attempted kidnapping. "And on how  convincing

he can be..."

Pellaeon stood on the bridge of Right to Rule, savoring the  silence  but

in  no  way  relaxed  by  it.  The  withdrawal  of  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  to   a

geosynchronous orbit  high  above  the  western  hemisphere  of  Esfandia  was

fortunately timed, allowing exhausted Imperial pilots to return to their  base

ships and restock. But it was only a temporary reprieve, prompted by Jag Fel's

superb disruption of the  northern  flank.  Commander  Vorrik  still  had  the

superior force and could wield it whenever he wished. Once he  had  regrouped,

Pellaeon had no doubt that he would do just that. For now, though, a tense but

stable stalemate persisted.

The surface of Esfandia was safe from heavy bombardment, at  least.  With

the chaos of battle behind them, it was much easier for both sides  to  detect

and intercept anyone trying to reach the  surface.  That  meant,  effectively,

that it was off limits to both sides, and  that  whoever  was  currently  down

there was safe for the time being. And stuck there.

"Excuse me, sir," said Pellaeon's aide, standing patiently  to  attention

behind him. "I have the information you requested."

He didn't know how long she'd been there. It  could  have  been  minutes;

he'd been so caught up in his thoughts. "Go on," he said without turning.

"Close analysis of telemetry reveals at least two surface landings during

the battle," she said. "One was almost certainly Millennium Falcon."

"I should have known that's where they'd go. Right into the thick of  it,

as usual." He nodded, hiding his relief at the news. "And the other?"

"A yorik-trema landing craft. The Seventy-eighth destroyed two other such

craft also attempting to land, but lost this one during the fighting.  It  was

assumed to have burned up on entry. We now suspect otherwise."

He faced the aide. "Do we know where it put down?"

"We have an approximate region, one hundred kilometers across. But it  is

possible that it has since moved under the cover of the atmosphere."

"So we've lost it?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Millennium Falcon?"

"The same. We weren't actively looking for either, sir, otherwise-"

"I suggest we start looking for them immediately."

"Yes, sir."

"What about that concentrated bombardment we saw? Could that be related?"

"That is possible, sir. It's  equally  possible  that  the  Yuuzhan  Vong

detected some sign of the relay base in the region."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I guess the main thing  is  that  we've  stopped

them firing on it."

"Yes, sir."

"Good work." He looked the aide over  briefly,  and  saw  deep  lines  of

exhaustion on the woman's face. "And now I'd like you to excuse yourself  from

the bridge and get some rest."

"Sir?"

"I'll summon you when things heat up again. Of that I can assure you."

"But-"

"That's an order. I need my crew fit and alert, first and foremost.  That

applies to everyone. See to it that all crew are rotated so that they  receive

both rest and nourish-

ment. It might be some time before we have another breather like this."

She saluted, but the formality didn't hide the gratitude in her eyes.

When she was gone, he turned his attention to the officer nearest to him.

"Get me Captain Mayn of Pride of Selonia," he ordered.

"Right away, sir."

Seconds later, her hologram was visible before him.

"Grand Admiral, how may I help?"

"We've noted the presence of the Millennium  Falcon  on  the  surface  of

Esfandia. What is the nature of her mission there?"

The woman hesitated, as though warring with herself  whether  or  not  to

answer his question.

He sighed tiredly. He didn't have time for suspicions.  "Captain,  may  I

remind you that we are on the same side?"

Military training took over, then, and she visibly stiffened at his tone.

"They are attempting to assist the crew of  the  relay  base.  An  opportunity

arose for them to break the blockade, and they took it."

"Have you heard from them since?"

"There was a garbled transmission from the region most recently  targeted

by the Yuuzhan Vong, but it was jammed. We suspect it was from the  Millennium

Falcon, advising us of their intentions, but the content of the  message,  and

its source, is unknown."

He nodded, wondering again just how far  he  should  trust  the  Galactic

Alliance officers he  had  been  pressed  into  dealing  with.  If  there  was

something else going on, something Leia Organa Solo wanted  kept  secret  even

though it might jeopardize the lives of his officers  and  crews,  would  this

Captain Mayn tell him? Her initial reluctance in answering his  question  made

him doubtful.

"Commander Vorrik has sent a landing party  after  them,"  he  said.  "We

believe they're both looking for the same thing, possibly  in  the  area  most

recently under fire. Do you have any plans for a recovery operation?"

"None at the moment," she admitted. "But no  doubt  we'll  put  something

into effect once-" She hesitated minutely, then concluded, "Once the situation

here is stabilized."

"Is it possible to advise me in advance of any such operation  being  put

into effect?"

"We will advise you of our intentions," she said evenly.

He wondered if she shared his suspicions. Did  she  question  whether  he

could be trusted? Was she afraid that he  would  attempt  to  stop  them  from

saving the Solos?

"Excellent," he said.  "We  might  even  offer  our  assistance  in  that

venture, should the opportunity arise."

Mayn nodded, and the hologram faded out. He longed to rest his  feet,  to

take the strain of standing off his healing back muscles, but he had one  more

job to do before he could think of retiring.

"See if you can raise Commander Vorrik," he said. A muted rustling  swept

through the bridge at the request, and the comm officer bent seriously to  the

task. They hadn't directly communicated with the enemy since chasing them from

Imperial Space, and each time they had it turned out to be quite a show.

Pellaeon forced himself to relax, affecting a look of  casual  amusement.

He didn't know how well the Yuuzhan  Vong  had  learned  to  appreciate  human

expressions, but he wasn't going  to  miss  an  opportunity  to  unsettle  his

opponent.

A snarling, scarred visage appeared on the bridge's main  screen.  Visual

communications  with  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  were   primitive,   reflecting   the

fundamentally different technologies applied by each culture, but there was

no mistaking that face. Vorrik had had his  skin  peeled  back  from  his

cheeks, exposing ribbed muscle tissue and pulsating veins. His scalp had  been

similarly flayed, leaving thin, jagged  strips  of  hair  where  the  scalping

hadn't been completed. Tattoos blackened  what  skin  was  left,  lending  the

commander a truly horrific appearance.

"I foul my senses every second I endure your likeness, infidel," came the

ragged, hate-filled voice. "Be quick, so I can erase your sight from my eyes."

"This is just a social call," Pellaeon said, smiling in response  to  the

commander's insults. "I was wondering how Kur-hashan was faring?"

" You dare mock me with your trivial-"

"Mock the great commander? I wouldn't dare." Pel -  laeon  couldn't  hide

his amusement. "I leave that to your superiors, who send you off on  a  fool's

errand while they bask in the glory of the Core."

The roar of rage he received  in  response  was  gratifying.  Vorrik  was

easily rattled. He was about to launch another  string  of  invective  at  the

Grand Admiral when Pellaeon spoke over the top of him.

"I thought it was time to discuss the situation," he said, loudly  enough

to be heard. "We have something of a standoff in place at the moment,  Vorrik.

I trust some thoughts on how to break it would have crossed  that  flat-browed

mind of yours?"

Vorrik looked like his flayed head was about to explode. "It  will  break

when we crush your puny fleet!" he roared.  "When  we  squash  you  like  bugs

beneath our feet! Then I will break you  personally-bone  by  bone,  nerve  by

nerve, until you are nothing but slime."

"Am I to take it, then, that negotiating a withdrawal is not an option?"

"Withdrawing is not the Yuuzhan Vong way."

"That's odd, because  I  seem  to  recall  you  withdrawing  at  Borosk."

Pellaeon paused long enough to allow the commander to think of a response, but

not enough time to actually utter it. "And here I was thinking  that  we  were

finally managing to breed some sense into your barbaric species. Now I see  we

still have some way to go."

The black blood drained from Vorrik's face, leaving him gray  with  rage.

With a snarl, he struck  the  oggzil  villip  transmitting  his  side  of  the

conversation. There was a blue flash, an organic squelching  sound,  and  then

nothing.

Pellaeon turned away from  the  projector,  eminently  satisfied.  Vorrik

would be too enraged to think clearly for some time now. His tactics would  be

clouded and more ineffective than they would otherwise have been  -  and  that

could only be a good thing. Pellaeon had to survive until Vorrik was  reminded

that his orders almost certainly didn't include wasting his time on some  out-

of-the-way worldlet while more pressing battles called for him elsewhere.

Pellaeon's smile gave way to a look of exhaustion  as  he  finally  stood

down for the shortest possible rest period he would allow himself. Given  that

the Imperial and  Galactic  Alliance  forces  were  in  a  position  that  was

untenable in the long haul, he hoped that Vorrik's superiors wouldn't take too

long.

Jacen lifted himself out of a recuperative trance at the same  time  that

Saba beside him stirred. He'd been lending his  strength  to  Danni,  who  was

still out cold, while Saba had been exploring the life fields of the planet in

an attempt to ascertain exactly where they were concentrated. The question  of

whether Sekot existed uniformly through the planet's biosphere or  focused  in

particular areas was still very much open. If Sekot's mind was focused nearby,

there was a chance they could contact it and, through it, talk to the others.

What had roused  them  from  their  meditations  was  the  sound  of  the

Magister's voice resounding through the cave.

"Tell Senshi I wish to speak with him," she said evenly. Her supine  body

was still bound and blindfolded, yet she commanded authority.

One of the Ferroans who had been assigned to  watch  over  the  prisoners

hurried off to find Senshi.  The  remaining  four  guards  stepped  away  from

Jabitha, as if the Magister might somehow attack  them  even  in  her  trussed

state.

Senshi soon came and crouched down beside the  Magister's  body.  "You've

been listening in on us, I see," he said. There was amusement in his voice.

"You must have known I would," she replied. "In fact, you probably wanted

me to. Otherwise you would have blocked my ears as you had covered my eyes."

He reached down at this and removed the blindfold. Even from where  Jacen

was sitting, they could see the dawn's greenish hue reflected from the woman's

black irises as she blinked in the sudden light.

"Sit her up," Senshi said, and two Ferroans hoisted her  up  so  she  was

resting with her back against the rocky wall of the cave.

"I suppose untying me  is  out  of  the  question."  Senshi  ignored  the

request. "You brought outsiders here," he said instead, glancing at the  Jedi.

"That was a mistake."

"I do  only  what  is  best  for  our  planet."  He  shook  his  head  in

disagreement. "You've put us all in danger, Jabitha."

"If I have, then it's at Sekot's behest. It recognizes the  Jedi;  it  is

curious about their kind."

"We recognize them, too," he said. "But that doesn't  automatically  make

them our friends. You recognize the Far Outsiders. Would you invite them here,

too?"

"You know as well as I do that the Far Outsiders would not be not welcome

here. They don't participate in the endless flow of life as Jedi do."

"That fish swim in the same direction along a stream  doesn't  make  them

the same species," he argued. "Nor does it mean they'll get along together."

"The Jedi have done us no harm, Senshi. I  don't  understand  why  you've

gone to such lengths to protest actions that have been sanctioned-"

"Please do not continue to suggest  that  Sekot  has  willed  this,"  the

elderly Ferroan interrupted sharply. "Sekot is not happy, Jabitha."

"How could you possibly know this? I am the Magister; I am the interface.

If anyone can claim to know Sekot's thoughts, it would be me."

"If you do, you are  not  sharing  them  all  with  us."  He  stood,  his

outstretched arms attempting to indicate everything around  them-in  the  cave

and beyond. "The mind of a living world is vaster in scope and depth than  any

of us could hope to comprehend. We could live  a  hundred  lifetimes  and  not

grasp more than a fraction of its thoughts on any single matter."

"It makes its will known to me," Jabitha said defiantly, "and I  pass  it

on to you. This method has served us well for decades. Why do you question  it

now? How have I changed to suddenly become untrustworthy?"

"You haven't changed, Jabitha. The times have. And we  must  change  with

them."

"I agree," Jacen said, gently easing into the debate.  When  both  Senshi

and Jabitha faced him, he continued: "That's exactly why we're here.  We  want

Sekot to leave its place of sanctuary, to abandon the security it's  found  in

Klasse Ephemora system and rejoin the rest of the galaxy-a galaxy that  is  at

war with the Far Outsiders. It is a war we might not  win.  If  you  join  us,

you'll be risking your lives. But if you don't join us, and  we  lose  without

you, there'll no  longer  be  anything  to  stand  between  you  and  the  Far

Outsiders. This is the unpleasant message we bring  to  both  Sekot  and  your

people. If you wish to live in this galaxy, then you must address the issue of

the Far Outsiders once and for all. Now."

"And what's in it for you?" the rebel Ferroan asked. "Why do you want  us

so urgently? What does one more world matter in this war of yours?"

"This iz not just another world," Saba hissed. "There are  no  worlds  az

marvelous as Zonama Sekot anywhere in the known galaxy."

The skepticism emanating  from  Senshi  was  so  intense  it  was  almost

tangible. "And you've agreed to this?" he asked Jabitha. " You've  set  us  on

this path to destruction?"

"I've done no such thing!" she snapped  back.  "I,  too,  have  seen  the

horrors of war; I, too, know what the Crossings cost us. I want this as little

as you do, Senshi - but I will not send these people away  or  treat  them  as

though they're criminals simply because they come to us for help! They deserve

better than that."

"Why? Because they're Jedi?"

"Because they do not mean us harm."

"Is that your opinion or Sekot's?"

"Sekot's." Here Jabitha faltered, her jaw tightening. "I  have  counseled

caution, just as you do. We  cannot  accept  the  word  of  strangers  without

question. But at the same time we must not make new enemies. If the  Jedi  are

right about the Far Outsiders, we might need them as much as they need us."

"And is that Sekot's thought or yours?"

"That is mine," she admitted.

Senshi's expression was scornful. "You are gambling on your feelings when

all our lives, as well as the life of Sekot itself, are at  stake."  He  shook

his head firmly. "I can't allow you to do this, Jabitha."

The Magister's expression hardened. "And what will you do if I refuse  to

stand down? Kill me? Kill the Jedi?"

"That iz not an option," Saba hissed, standing.

Senshi glanced at the Barabel. There was a flicker of nervousness  behind

his eyes as they danced back to Jabitha. "I talk to you knowing that your eyes

and ears are the eyes and ears of Sekot. It will hear  me  and  make  its  own

decision. It will know the truth."

"You have told it nothing it hasn't already heard, Senshi."

"You're wrong," he said. "I've  told  it  that  we  are  prepared  to  do

whatever it takes to protect our  peace.  It  has  never  heard  our  defiance

before. Soon, though, it will see just how far we  are  prepared  to  go."  He

turned aside to issue orders to one of his co-conspirators. "We're moving  out

in five minutes. Blindfold the Magister. I don't want her to see  where  we're

going."

"What about the Jedi?" Jabitha asked.

Senshi met Jacen's stare. The  nervousness  and  uncertainty  were  still

there, even though he was desperately trying not to show it in his expression.

He knew that there was no way he could keep them if they didn't want to stay.

"If they wish to come with us, then let them," he said. "After  all,  the

more witnesses we have, the better. But they can leave if they wish  to.  Even

if they return straight to the settlement, they won't  get  back  in  time  to

bring help, and we have no need for additional prisoners."

"Trust me," Saba said. With hands outstretched and a simple  tug  of  the

Force, the two lightsaber pommels flew from the belt of  the  Ferroan  looking

after them back into her hands. She handed Jacen  his.  "We  were  never  your

prisonerz."

The Ferroan guard became agitated by the display of power from the  Jedi,

but Senshi remained impassive.

"If you try to interfere in any way," he said, "then we will fight  back.

We might not be able to defeat warriors such as yourselves, but we will  fight

back." He turned to address the Ferroan guards. "Blindfold her-now."

Senshi turned and moved away, dismissing them. Jacen and  Saba  exchanged

concerned looks, then faced Jabitha. She, too, had worry in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Magister," Jacen said. "We're not about to leave you."

"No harm will befall you in this one'z care," Saba added.

Jacen nodded as reassuringly as he could,  but  doubt  was  beginning  to

flower at the back of his mind. Looking down at Danni's  comatose  figure,  he

couldn't help wonder what he and his friends were getting into.

Jag felt Jaina's hand move within his. He jerked out of an exhausted half

sleep and leaned over her. Her eyelids were half opened, and  the  fingers  of

her hand clutched his.

"Jaina? Can you hear me?"

"Jag?" Her voice was ragged.

She started to say something else, but was interrupted by a low moan from

the bed next to hers. Jag's relief was muted by the  realization  that  Tahiri

was waking, too. He reached across Jaina to call Selonia's chief medic.

"Vigos, I think you'd better get down here!"

The medic didn't ask for explanations, or waste  time  replying.  With  a

click to indicate that he'd heard the message, the line went dead.

"Don't..." Jaina swallowed. Her lips were dry and cracked.

He handed her a cup of water with a straw feeder and let her  drink,  all

the while uneasily watching the blond girl stirring on  the  bed  beside  her.

Green irises appeared through fluttering eyelids. Who was waking up? Tahiri or

Riina?

Jaina must have seen the apprehension in his stare. "It's going to be all

right," she croaked. "I think."

Before he could ask her what she meant by this, Dantos Vigos and  a  full

medical team burst into the room. Tahiri moaned again, and suddenly jackknifed

on the bed, limbs flailing. Whatever she was trying to do, her muscles weren't

responding properly. Vigos and  his  team  surrounded  her  instantly,  gently

restraining her while taking readings. Two of the  medics  came  to  check  on

Jaina's vital signs. She assured them that she was fine, but they checked just

the same.

Jag believed her. Jaina's eyes were red and her skin was pale; she looked

as though she'd been run through an ice harvester.

"I heard you," she whispered.

He frowned at this. "What do you mean?"

"In my dream, I heard your voice. I heard what you said."

Her smile filled him with incredible warmth, and  he  realized  that  the

sentiments he'd expressed to her earlier were being reciprocated.  She  didn't

have to say anything; he just knew from that smile that she loved him, too.

"Tahiri?" Vigos spoke close to the girl's face, gently prizing  open  her

eyes with his fingers to flash a light in to check her pupil  reactions.  "Can

you hear me, Tahiri?"

"My name-" The girl's dry lips cracked open and emitted a  voice  like  a

desert wind. She swallowed and tried again. "What's my name?"

Jag's stomach went cold.

"Ish'ka!"

He stood and put himself between Jaina and Tahiri - the thing in Tahiri's

body! "Call Captain Mayn," he instructed Vigos. "Tell her-"

A hand gripped his forearm, and he looked down in surprise to find  Jaina

restraining him.

"Wait," she said. "Let's hear her out."

"If she doesn't know who she is, then how do we know  she's  Tahiri?  I'm

not giving Riina the chance to get better so she can stab us all in the  backs

with Tahiri's lightsaber!"

"I am-" Coughs racked Tahiri's body as whatever inhabited it struggled to

speak. "I am not-"

"I saw them, Jag." The strength returning to Jaina's voice held him still

despite all the sirens sounding in his mind. "I won't pretend that  I  saw  or

understood everything, but I saw them together, in Tahiri's  mind.  Riina  was

there, fighting her. It was like a dream. They  were  fighting,  then  hunting

something-me, I think-then it looked like Riina was trying to convince  Tahiri

to turn on me." She hesitated slightly. "Perhaps  even  to  kill  me.  But  it

didn't happen. Tahiri found another way. She-"

Jaina hesitated again, as though searching for words.

"Tell me, Jaina," Jag urged her. "Tell me why I shouldn't sound the alarm

and have her restrained."

"Not just Tahiri,"  the  girl  beside  them  croaked,  her  voice  slowly

firming. "I'm not just Riina, either. I'm someone new." The girl's eyes  bored

into his with startling clarity. "I've changed, but my face has not."

"Changed?" Jag heard Vigos's voice as though from a great distance.

"She's neither one nor the other," Jaina said. "But both of them.  Tahiri

could no more get rid of Riina than the Yuuzhan Vong makers could get  rid  of

her. They had to join together. It was that or go crazy."

The idea intrigued Jag. How did two completely different minds join?  And

would Tahiri be anything like she had been before? What if  her  Yuuzhan  Vong

half led her astray? A thousand questions rushed his thoughts, none  of  them,

he was sure, easily answered.

"For the first time in years, I feel... whole," the girl said. "And  that

has to be right, surely?" She looked at Jaina. "I remember  you  being  there,

trying to help me. You didn't do anything; you were just there. Even when part

of me wanted to attack you, you didn't fight  back.  That  convinced  me  that

fighting was wrong. Your example helped heal my wounded mind.  We  would  have

destroyed each other had it not been for you."

The girl's hands moved weakly, made a strange gesture  in  front  of  her

face. Then she reached out to take Jaina's hand.

"That's known as us-hrok," she said. "It indicates  my  indebtedness  and

loyalty to you for your help. I offer it to you not as a Yuuzhan Vong, nor  as

a human who knows a few foreign traditions.  This  is  from  me."  The  girl's

certainty seemed to falter for a second, then  her  determination  firmed.  "I

will be grateful to you forever, Jaina Solo, sister of the one I loved. I will

always consider you family, and will protect you with my life. I vow  this  on

my honor, with all my strength."

Jaina glanced briefly at Jag, flustered. "Thank you."

Jag, too, was thrown by the  girl's  newfound  confidence.  Where  before

there had been uncertainty and doubt, now he saw strength and surety.

"This is going to take some getting used to," he said.

Tahiri nodded weakly. "For all of us," she said.

"Well, you're going to  be  okay."  Vigos  stepped  between  them.  "Your

respiration is even and your pulse strong. You haven't been  out  long  enough

for serious muscle deterioration to begin. You should be on your  feet  in  no

time."

Tahiri tried to reply, but choked on her dry throat.

"Mom will be pleased to hear that,"  Jaina  said,  filling  the  silence.

"Where is she, by the way?"

Vigos glanced at Jag, who said simply, "On the Falcon."

There was no keeping anything from her. "What's happened,Jag?"

"A lot, to be honest. I wouldn't really know where to start."

"Just tell me what's  going  on,"  she  said,  sitting  up  in  the  bed,

concerned.

"We're in orbit around Esfandia. The Yuuzhan Vong are  here,  and  so  is

Pellaeon." He debated whether to tell her about the little surprise the  Grand

Admiral had ordered, but decided to save  that  for  later.  "The  relay  base

itself has gone into hiding, and your parents went to  look  for  it.  They're

trapped somewhere on the surface right now. We can't get in to them, and  they

don't seem able to get out, either."

She raised her eyebrows and shook her head,  dumbfounded.  "I  must  have

been out for some time."

"Don't worry," rasped a dry throat from the other bed. Tahiri's eyes were

fixed on Jaina. "The one thing a warrior never does  is  abandon  her  family.

We'll find them and bring them back, I promise."

"Rest first, then fight," Jaina said, smiling at the young girl. "And I'm

sure we can fit a 'fresher in there somewhere, too. I barely feel human at the

moment. I dread to think how you feel."

"Like a vua'sa's armpit."  Tahiri  laughed  and  Jag  felt  some  of  the

residual tension ease from his posture.  He  didn't  need  to  understand  the

reference to get the joke.

Jaina looked up at him then, and her eyes were  shining.  That  convinced

him that it was all going to be okay.  Jaina  had  expressed  no  reservations

about Tahiri's "new" character, or held any concerns for the girl's  recovery.

She was absolutely confident that what had happened  was  to  the  young  Jedi

Knight's benefit. That spoke volumes in her favor. On the  strength  of  that,

and as long as Tahiri stayed fighting on the right side, he would gladly  call

her a friend.

Nom Anor's eyes snapped  open  in  the  darkness.  Instantly  awake,  but

disoriented, he tried to work out what it was that had awoken him. Had he been

dreaming? Had he forgotten to do something? It took him a good ten seconds  to

realize that the answer lay all around him. When he had reclined on the cot to

rest his eyes, he had left a single yellow lichen torch glowing over his desk.

Now the room was dark.

He lay silently in the darkness, listening. A soft movement came from the

middle of the room, and he tensed, wondering what he should do. He could  yell

for the guards outside the door, but the chances were that  if  intruders  had

made it into his quarters, they'd already taken care of the guards anyway.  He

could reach for his coufee where it lay beside his cot, but he would  have  to

expose his throat to do so. He could launch himself at where  he  thought  his

attacker was standing, judging by the sounds he'd heard, but it would  be  too

easy to miscalculate and miss, or accidentally throw himself into the path  of

a ready weapon. Numerous possibilities tumbled through his mind, but each  was

quickly dismissed.

His plaeryin bol tensed automatically, reacting to  the  stress  hormones

that had begun to surge through his blood. If he could get in  just  one  good

shot at his attacker-

"Now!"

The word spat out of the darkness, and in an instant Nom Anor was  rushed

from two sides at once. He felt hands clutching at  him,  trying  to  pin  him

down. He fought them off as best he could, but it was difficult, surprised  as

he was by both the attack and the number of people involved.

He faced the assailant to his left in the hope of getting a better  look.

It was impossible. All he saw were shadows within shadows. He could  make  out

an outline of the figure, however, and that was enough for  now.  Relaxing  as

though in defeat, he focused on the individual  and  fired  his  plaeryin  bol

directly into the attacker's face. He fell back with a cry. With his  arm  now

free, Nom Anor swung his clenched fist at the one restraining  his  other  arm

and struck him firmly on the side of the face.

There was a grunt of pain, but this attacker continued to hang on.

"Hold him!" someone cried, and suddenly more  figures  emerged  from  the

shadows.

Hands clutched at his skull and something pressed tight against  the  eye

socket containing the plaeryin bol. It spasmed but was unable to fire.

How many are there? he  thought  desperately,  kicking  out  at  the  new

attackers trying to restrain both his legs and arms. It was hopeless. Soon two

of them had managed to pin down his  shoulders,  while  his  legs  were  being

crushed beneath the large torso of a third.  In  the  end  he  let  the  fight

genuinely leave him and his body sag back onto his cot. There were simply  too

many of them. Better to conserve his strength than waste  it  on  a  pointless

struggle.

He took deep and steady breaths in order to relax and focus. Battles were

rarely won with blind rage, he reminded himself. He needed to know  his  enemy

before he could beat them, and here in the shadows he knew nothing about  them

whatsoever.

A lambent flared from the doorway, casting a dim light across  the  faces

of those holding him down. He didn't recognize the two pinning his  shoulders,

although that hardly surprised him. They might have been members  of  his  own

group, but he rarely paid attention to any but those important to  his  plans.

Whoever they were, they were just the lackeys of whoever  was  the  mastermind

behind the attack. A traitor, presumably.

The figure holding the lambent was  another  story  altogether.  Shoon-mi

stepped forward with a coufee in his other hand. The  light  gleaming  off  it

matched the light in his eyes: cold, hard, and deadly.

Nom Anor frowned, feeling both confused and, strangely, delighted at  the

impudence of his religious adviser. This was not what he had expected at all.

"Shoon-mi?" he said, feigning debilitating surprise.

The Shamed One stared down disdainfully  at  Nom  Anor,  the  blue  sacks

beneath his eyes pulsing with repressed delight. He shook his head slowly,  as

if in disapproval of his master.

"You see?" he said to his lackeys. "He is no god!"

"Nor have I ever professed to be, you fool!" Nom Anor responded. "Haven't

you listened to anything I've taught you-"

"But you could have been."

A sense of the absurd rolled over Nom Anor as he lay there, pressed  flat

to the bed. He was unable to resist a bark of laughter. "You  are  either  far

more intelligent than I gave you credit for, Shoon-mi, or more stupid  than  I

could have ever imagined."

The Shamed One uttered a vitriolic hiss and struck Nom  Anor  across  the

face with the back of the hand holding the coufee.  Then,  flipping  his  hand

over, he pressed the blade firmly against the ex-executor's throat. "You  dare

call me stupid when I am the one holding your life in my hands?"

"Holding the power of life or death over  another  doesn't  automatically

give you intelligence, Shoon-mi,"  Nom  Anor  retorted.  "You  have  me  at  a

disadvantage at the moment, that's all."

"At the moment?" Shoon-mi laughed. "You believe you can escape  your  end

here, Master?"

There was only a hair's breadth of skin between Nom Anor's artery and the

coufee. A simple push was all that separated him from death. Nevertheless,  he

didn't allow alarm to show on his face.

"The question is not whether I will escape my  death,"  he  said  slowly,

carefully, "but rather how you will escape yours."

Shoon-mi glared down at Nom Anor. "You threaten me even when you stand on

oblivion's precipice?"

There was a manic look  in  Shoon-mi's  eye-a  desperate  need  to  prove

himself against the one who'd had him at such a disadvantage for so long.

"I'm in no position to threaten you,  Shoon-mi,"  he  said.  "I'm  merely

wondering how you ever expect to get away with this. The  faithful  will  rise

against you when they find out. You know that, don't you?  Without  me,  there

will be nothing to hold them together."

"That would only be a problem if they knew you were dead."

"Ah." Nom Anor would have nodded, but with the coufee against his throat,

it wasn't advisable. "The Prophet will not  be  dead,  although  I  might  be.

You're planning on becoming me, is that it? Using the masquer, you  intend  to

use my public face to hide your own and take control of the heresy."

Shoon-mi allowed himself a slight smile, then. "Yes, I do."

"And you'll explain your own disappearance  by  mutilating  my  body  and

saying  it's  yours.  Then  you'll  announce   that   you   narrowly   averted

assassination by killing the one who  was  supposed  to  be  your  most  loyal

supporter."

"It seems a practical plan," Shoon-mi  said.  "I  shall  hide  the  truth

behind the truth-a practice I have learned from you, Master."

Now Anor allowed himself a faint smile; even now, Shoon-mi  still  didn't

know the entire truth of Nom Anor's identity.

"And what of these you have turned against me?  What  have  you  promised

them, Shoon-mi?"

The Shamed One hesitated, glancing at those holding Nom Anor  down.  That

brief hesitation was all Nom Anor needed to know what lay in store  for  them:

they would be killed at the first opportunity because they knew too much about

Shoon-mi and his ambitions.

"They will stand beside me as we attain our freedom," he Shamed One said.

"They will be the personal bodyguards of the Prophet."

"Indeed. And they expect you to show them the same  sort  of  loyalty  as

you've shown me this night, Shoon-mi?"

"I would have remained loyal to you until the end," he  Shamed  One  said

earnestly. "For a while I even believed in you. But now..." He shook his head.

"This movement needs clarity of vision; this movement needs a rue leader."

"But you're forgetting one thing," Nom Anor said.

"I'm forgetting nothing" Shoon-mi hissed.

"No, you are," Nom Anor  insisted.  He  knew  he  had  to  keep  Shoon-mi

talking, keep playing for time. Every second he  stayed  alive  was  a  second

longer that a chance to reverse his situation might present  itself.  And  the

best way to do this was to  play  upon  the  Shamed  One's  inse-:urities  and

uncertainties. "In fact, I can't believe you're so naive as to have missed it.

"

"If you think for a second that that I won't kill you-" Shoon-mi started,

and the coufee pressed harder into Nom Anor's throat.

"I have no doubts that you would kill  me,  Shoon-mi,"  Nom  Anor  gasped

placatingly-although there was a look in Shoon-mi's face that  made  Nom  Anor

wonder if he Shamed One really could kill him. He was certainly taking a  long

time about it. "My life is most definitely in your hands; I don't  deny  this.

But why are you really betraying me? Because I ordered you around?  Because  I

kept you in the dark about certain things?"

Shoon-mi pulled back slightly. Nom Anor took the opportunity to catch his

breath.

"Tell me, please, so that I may at least understand why I am  to  die  at

your hand."

"Because you offer your followers no better  than  what  they  had  under

Shimrra!" There was such vitriol in the Shamed One's  tone  that  it  startled

even those holding Nom Anor down. "People came to us, and  you  used  them  as

though they were nothing to you. You sacrificed them without even the  decency

of learning their names, while yours was on  their  tongues  constantly.  They

believed in you; they believed in the Jeedai" Shoon-mi shook  his  head.  "The

Jeedai would never have done what you did, Amorrn. All of this  has  been  for

nothing but your own glory. You have not spread the word of the Jeedai for the

sake of the Shamed Ones; you have used it for your own benefit!"

"As you do now for yours, Shoon-mi?"

The blade was once more against his throat,  this  time  hard  enough  to

break the skin. Nom Anor felt blood seep around the edges of  the  coufee  and

trickle down his neck.

" I should-"

"Yes, you should," Nom Anor interrupted. "Kill me! Come on, Shoon-mi! I'm

sure you have more pressing things to do than stand around here talking to me.

You need to start planning your freedom, remember?"

"You mock me even with death's breath upon you?"

Nom Anor allowed himself a wide smile. His display  of  fearlessness  had

clearly rattled Shoon-mi.

"You know, perhaps I was wrong about you, Shoon-mi. Perhaps I  was  wrong

when I said you'd forgotten something. Perhaps you never  really  knew  it  at

all."

"Knew what?" It was clear that, despite the obvious  advantage,  Shoon-mi

wasn't as self-assured as he was prepared to admit.

Nom Anor smiled. "That it's not going to work."

"Nonsense. You're as good as dead-"

"Not me, you idiot: Shimrra. You're never going to convince him  to  give

your freedom and honor back. Why would he listen to you? Why would he care the

slightest atom about what you want? You can't see what's going on  under  your

misshapen nose, let alone in the  court  of  a  ruler  a  million  times  more

powerful than the Prophet will ever be-irrespective of  who  wears  the  mask.

Whatever power you gain tonight will vanish upon your death, and the death  of

everyone tainted by your foul stench. Your life was forfeit  from  the  moment

you entered this room. My only sadness is that I won't  be  there  to  see  it

happen."

Instead of showing doubt, the Shamed One smiled back.  "Don't  think  you

can trick me, Amorrn. I know you're only trying to-"

Something jolted Shoon-mi from behind, causing him to  fall  forward  and

lose his grip on the coufee. Nom Anor twisted to avoid the razor-sharp edge as

Shoon-mi fell across him, dropping  the  lambent  and  turning  the  world  to

darkness.

Sudden commotion in the blackened room renewed Nom Anor's desperation  to

survive. He struggled wildly, ineffectually, under the heavy weight of  Shoon-

mi's body. Voices in the dark, the sound of painful grunts,  the  slashing  of

blades, the soft, wet sound of tearing fabric and flesh, the clash of weapons-

all filled the air in a grisly cacophony. The hands that had been holding  his

shoulders down and his plaeryin bol closed had gone, but he was  still  pinned

beneath Shoon-mi, who was breathing heavily, painfully. An agonized  cry  came

from someone nearby, followed by the sound of a body crumpling to the floor.

Nom Anor finally rolled from under Shoon-mi's  limp  body,  removing  the

coufee from the Shamed One's hand as he did. Shoon-mi hit the  ground  with  a

grunt and whimper, but didn't make any attempt to move or defend himself. Then

Nom Anor collected the lambent and cast the light  in  the  direction  of  the

fighting. The sudden light upon the  two  combating  warriors  was  enough  to

startle one into turning marginally. It was  all  Kunra  needed  to  gain  the

advantage and dispose of his opponent. Crouching low, he swung his long  blade

and buried it deep in the other warrior's side. The eyes  of  the  Shamed  One

died as they stared at Nom Anor, then the body sagged to the ground  with  the

others, cut virtually into two halves.

Kunra straightened, wiping the flat of his blade clean on his robes.

"You all right? "he asked.

Nom Anor nodded, glancing around at the bodies lying about  his  chamber.

"I will be now."

"Sorry it took me so long," the ex-warrior said. "Three of them jumped me

in my room. I figured when they didn't kill me right away that  it  wasn't  me

they were after. They just wanted to keep me out of the way until Shoon-mi had

finished with you. I guess they thought I might decide to join  up  with  them

once he'd taken over role of leader."

Nom  Anor  put  a  hand  on  Kunra's  shoulder.  "Either  way,  that  was

astoundingly good timing."

"Not really. I stood outside for a while, listening." Kunra's flat,  gray

eyes looked away.

Nom Anor studied the ex-warrior. "Of course you did.  You  thought  about

letting Shoon-mi kill me. Then you could have killed him at a later  date  and

taken over as Prophet yourself, right?"

"Perhaps." Kunra placed his weapon beneath his robes. There was  no  sign

of an apology, but Nom Anor  didn't  want  one.  He  didn't  mind  treacherous

thoughts, as long as the end result was loyalty.

"You would have made a better Prophet than Shoon-mi could have ever hoped

to." Nom Anor looked down at the Shamed One on the  floor,  moaning  piteously

with the handle of a coufee protruding from his back. The  blade  had  severed

his spinal column, rendering his limbs useless.

"What you said to him just then," Kunra started, then stopped, unsure  of

either himself or the question he was about to ask.

Nom Anor faced him. "What about?"

"You told him the plan to reclaim our  honor  couldn't  work,"  he  said.

"That the Supreme Overlord would never listen to us."

"I was merely bluffing."

Kunra shook his head. "No, I could tell from your voice  that  you  meant

it."

Nom Anor nodded, understanding Kunra's doubt. Was their quest a  hopeless

one? There were very real uncertainties in his mind-particularly after  seeing

Shimrra in all his splendor in the palace again.

"Who knows, Kunra? Shimrra is powerful; there's no questioning that.  But

maybe we can convince him. If I had a thousand more warriors as loyal  as  you

by my side, I would have no doubts whatsoever."

Nom Anor glanced down again at Shoon-mi. With  his  foot  he  rolled  the

Shamed One over, pushing the coufee in Shoon-mi's back even  deeper.  Shoon-mi

cried out in discomfort, his pathetic features  staring  up  pitiably  at  Nom

Anor.

"Forgive me, Master," he whimpered. "I was a misguided  fool!  You  truly

are one of the gods!"

"No, Shoon-mi," he said. "You were right the first time. I'm not  one  of

the gods. I spurn them as readily as I spurn you. I prefer the company of  the

living."

With that he reached down and took the Shamed One's throat in  his  hands

and crushed the remaining life out of him. The terror of death  in  Shoon-mi's

eyes lasted no more than thirty seconds before being  replaced  by  an  almost

serene emptiness. Standing upright, Nom Anor faced  Kunra.  "Get  rid  of  the

bodies," he said dispassionately. "I don't want anyone knowing about this. The

last thing I need is for others to get the idea  into  their  heads  that  the

Prophet is vulnerable."

"I understand," Kunra said, and immediately began to drag the corpses  to

the door.

Nom Anor reached up to touch the seeping wound at his throat that  Shoon-

mi had inflicted. "I need to see to this," he said. Before he left  the  room,

he faced Kunra one last time. "You did well this night, Kunra. I won't  forget

it."

Kunra nodded solemnly, then continued with his grisly work.

Luke listened to the news from  the  boras  network  with  a  feeling  of

foreboding.

"Senshi's made no attempt to talk to anyone," he  said  when  the  latest

reports came to an end. "But he's up to something."

"I agree," Mara said. "Did he give you any idea what that might be?"

"Something dramatic, decisive,  attention  getting."  Luke  steepled  his

fingers under his chin and tried to think. They were seated on the upper floor

of one of the mushroom-shaped habitats. Large pores in the ceiling  and  walls

admitted air and light into the domed space. Bowls of aromatic  tea  had  been

served on a table around which they had gathered to consider their next move.

"It would help if we knew where they were going, at  least,"  Mara  said,

scowling into her bowl. Both she and Luke had tried to sense Jacen through the

Force, but they had given up after an hour; the eddying  life  fields  of  the

planet simply proved too difficult to penetrate. It  was  now  afternoon,  and

Luke had yet to ascertain whether such interference  was  normal,  or  somehow

manufactured artificially.

"We are narrowing down the possibilities," Darak said from  the  edge  of

the habitat. She had taken to pacing nervously, worrying at her hands  as  she

pondered the Magister's fate. "It's not easy; the tampasi  is  very  dense  in

that region, and the trail isn't marked, but I believe  I  can  guess  at  his

destination."

Mara looked up hopefully. "Where?" "To the northeast of here lies a stand

of rogue boras. Sekot permits their existence in order  to  encourage  genetic

diversity."

"Rogue?"  Mara  frowned.  "How?"  "Boras  can  be  very   dangerous   and

territorial when allowed to grow wild," Darak explained. "They are as strictly

contained as they can be."

Hegerty's expression was one of incomprehension. "Wild frees?"

"Boras are more than mere trees." There  was  rebuke  in  Rowel's  words.

"Boras seeds are mobile.  They  migrate  to  a  nursery  every  summer,  where

lightning called down by the boras launches them on the next  stage  of  their

life cycle. There are many different types of boras, and correspondingly  many

different ways that mutants can be harmful."

"Particularly during a thunderstorm," Darak added. "So why  would  Senshi

be taking them there, then?" Mara asked.

"Maybe he's unaware that the  mutant  stand  is  in  his  path,"  Hegerty

suggested.

"It's not important why," Luke said. He fixed Darak with  a  sober  gaze.

This was the best lead they had had in hours. "Is it possible to cut them  off

before they reach it?"

Darak shook her head. "Even our fastest runners  couldn't  get  there  in

time. They'll be there within two hours."

"What about airships?" Luke pressed.

"The boras will prevent them from landing."

"Jade Shadow could do it," Mara said. "I can summon  her  here  with  the

slave circuit. If you'll release her from the landing field, we could be there

in less than an hour."

"We can try to ask Sekot," Rowel said, "but it will be difficult  without

the Magister."

"Try anyway," Luke said. The Ferroan bowed and left the habitat.

Luke's comlink buzzed, and he answered it. The voice  at  the  other  end

belonged to Captain Yage.

"Master Skywalker, telemetry is picking up gravitation  readings  on  the

third moon of Mobus."

"Source?"

"Unknown. But M-Three is little more than a rock. There can't be anything

big enough down there to generate gravity waves."

"It could be a damaged coralskipper," Luke said.

"Or one that's working just fine," Mara added.

"That was my thought," Yage said. "We'd like to send a couple of TIEs  to

investigate."

A glance at Darak confirmed to Luke that their hosts would be  less  than

happy at the thought of Imperial fighters swarming over the small moon.  "I'll

get back to you on that, Arien," he said, and clicked off the comlink.

Before he could speak, Darak was shaking her head. "We  will  not  permit

what you are about to ask."

Luke sighed, fighting to keep his tone even and reasonable when he spoke.

"Please understand that we wish you no harm. We have done nothing  so  far  to

hurt you or your world. In fact, we may have found a security breach that  you

missed. All it would take is one ship to escape from here, and your  Sanctuary

will be shattered. Instead of being afraid of us, you  should  be  letting  us

help you."

"Perhaps." Darak still wasn't convinced, but at least she was  listening.

"We shall check our own observations. If there really are gravity waves coming

from that moon, we will detect them and take action for ourselves."

Luke nodded. "That sounds reasonable."

"But don't take too long," Mara said as  the  Ferroan  woman  exited  the

room. "I don't like being stuck here while who knows what might be warming  up

their drives over our heads."

"Sekot will protect you," Rowel assured, returning to take Darak's place.

"And who'll protect Sekot?" Mara's words were steeped  in  annoyance  and

frustration, although beneath them Luke sensed  a  genuine  sympathy  for  the

Ferroans. "You've been out here too long. You've forgotten how big the  galaxy

is. Maybe Sekot has forgotten, too. I admire your faith  in  this  planet  you

live on, but I'd hate you to get a rude reminder of how things really are."

"You know little about Sekot,"  the  Ferroan  said."Your  information  is

decades old, scavenged from rumors and legends. You have no  concept  of  what

Sekot is capable of."

"Which is why we're here," Luke said. "We want to know, because Sekot  is

at the core of our solution. With that knowledge, perhaps we can find peace in

a way that won't involve the death of trillions."

"We're going in circles," Hegerty said. "And until Sekot decides to trust

us, we're just going to keep on going that way."

"Sekot has no reason to trust you," Rowel stated flatly.

"Then we'll just have to give it one," Mara said.

Luke nodded in agreement, thinking: But what? What would Obi-Wan do in my

place?

The thought that Obi-Wan and his father had been here,  long  ago,  still

nagged at the back of his mind. If there were any way to summon the spirit  of

his lost teacher, he would have done so immediately.

What happened to you when you were here, Ben? Does it have any bearing on

what's happening to us now? And what of my father? Was his fate bound  in  any

way to what happened to him here?

His thoughts, of course, received no answer, so he released them  with  a

sigh. He returned to the discussion with the others,  empathizing  fully  with

Mara's growing frustration...

The corridors of the Esfandia Long-Range Communications Base were  narrow

but surprisingly tall. Obviously, Leia thought, it had been designed that  way

with its Gotal commander in mind, whose twin energy-sensing horns stretched  a

meter above Leia's head. On the Millennium Falcon, Ashpidar would have had  to

crouch at all times; here the commander had to duck only occasionally  on  her

tour of the base.

The heights of the rest of the crew, however, were on the whole decidedly

below average. Three slight  Sullustans  made  up  the  core  engineering  and

technical expertise on the base, while five stocky Ugnaughts  were  there  for

grunt work. There was a Noghri security chief called Eniknar who  came  up  to

Leia's shoulder;  his  assistants  were  two  squat  Klatooinians.  Two  human

communications specialists and a Twi'lek science officer defended the average.

The tour, given by the commander and her security chief,  shouldn't  have

taken long, but Ashpidar insisted on introducing Leia and  Droma  to  everyone

they met. Her Noghri bodyguards hovered close behind at all times.  They  were

quiet and unobtrusive, but Leia could always sense them there.

Droma had chosen to accompany her to the base because he'd said he needed

to get out of the Falcon for a while. After what they'd just been through,  he

was feeling a little claustrophobic. Han had opted to stay back with his ship,

because he felt that someone needed to keep an eye on her. Besides  which,  he

said it would give him the chance to do diagnostic checks on  the  engine  and

shield generators.

"This is our extravehicular bay." Ashpidar opened an internal air lock to

reveal five speeder bikes. Next to them stood a  cupboard  containing  enviro-

suits suitable for the dense, frigid atmosphere outside.  "Although  the  base

itself is mobile, there are times when we  must  travel  individually  to  the

sensor stations to  perform  minor  repairs.  The  sensors  are  temperamental

devices, requiring frequent maintenance."

Leia nodded. Half a plan was forming in her mind; if the other half  fell

into place, the speeder bikes would be essential.

Outside the base, silence still reigned. While the pounding stopped,  the

Brrbrlpp were safe. She was grateful for that, at least; it gave her  time  to

think.

"Sensing transmissions from the Unknown Regions is just half  the  story,

surely," Droma said. "You'd have to broadcast them again, into the rest of the

galaxy. Where do you do that?"

"The sensors accomplish that task,  also,"  Ashpidar  droned.  Her  flat,

monotone voice made it hard to feign interest. "Every signal detected by  more

than one sensor is error-checked and boosted toward the Core by at least  half

of the remaining sensors. Juggling the reception-

and-transmission load is one reason why the system is  so  delicate,  and

why we try to maintain a healthy margin for error. I endeavor to operate on  a

fifty percent surplus capacity."

"How many sensors have you lost due to the Yuuzhan Vong?" Leia asked.

"Thirteen out of forty."

"Could you function normally with that?"

"As long as there are no further bombardments, then yes, we could operate

for a time. But we would require additional resources to bring up that  safety

margin."

"I'll do everything I can to make sure you have  them,"  Leia  said.  And

quickly, she added to herself. Who knew what messages Luke might be trying  to

send her from the Unknown Regions?

When the tour was complete,  Ashpidar  took  them  to  her  cabin,  which

doubled as an office. She took a seat on one side of her expansive desk, while

Leia, Droma, and the security chief sat on the other. Leia's bodyguards  stood

just outside the door.

"This is a secure environment,"  Eniknar  assured  her  in  his  sibilant

voice. The Noghri was whip-slender and corded, his reptilian face a picture of

intensity. "What you're about to see has not been revealed to the rest of  the

crew."

Ashpidar opened a safe on the wall opposite them and revealed a  leathery

ball with a supple, ridged surface. A vein pulsed at its base, indicating that

it was a living thing. A wiry husk surrounded the creature, culminating  in  a

long, tapering tail.

"A villip," Leia said. "Is that how the Yuuzhan Vong knew you were here?"

Ashpidar agreed. "They were summoned here. Exactly when or why we have no

way of knowing. There must have been another on Generis, too."

"This one was found two days ago in a  maintenance  recess  deep  in  the

belly of the base," Eniknar said. "Anyone could  have  hidden  it  there.  The

person who owns it must know by now that it's been discovered, but  they  have

not revealed themselves. Therefore, unfortunately, our  betrayer  still  walks

among us."

"We'd just begun conducting low-key security sweeps when the Yuuzhan Vong

arrived," Ashpidar said. "Obviously survival takes  preference  in  the  short

term. Until we can locate the traitor, I've kept the villip here, where no one

can access it but me." So saying, she closed the  safe  and  locked  it.  "All

other forms of communications are sealed tight. Nothing and no one gets out of

this base without my authorization."

Leia indicated her approval. "We can show you how to  sweep  for  Yuuzhan

Vong in disguise. We have mouse droids designed to do so discreetly. You don't

have to be a Jedi to do that."

The expressionless Gotal inclined her head. "My thanks."

"All we need to do," Leia said, "is ride out the crisis. Once the Yuuzhan

Vong have been knocked out of orbit, you'll be able to emerge  and  conduct  a

proper inquiry."

"That is my hope. I do fear,  however,  that-"  Ashpidar's  desk  comlink

bleeped, interrupting her. "Yes?"

"A message from the Millennium Falcon, " reported one of the  commander's

communications officers. "Coded telemetry data has arrived from orbit."

"Patch it through, Ridil." A holodisplay came to life on Ashpidar's desk.

It showed the disposition  of  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  and  Imperial  forces  over

opposite hemispheres, keeping each other at bay. Flashpoints came and went  as

either side probed the defenses of the other or attempted to drop forces  down

into the atmosphere. No one was getting through. As Leia  watched,  the  image

zoomed in to the surface to show entry points for a small Yuuzhan  Vong  force

that had managed to make it down to the atmosphere while the battle  had  been

raging. "We've got company," Droma said. "So  it  would  seem,"  the  security

chief said. "If they're combing the area," Leia said, "then it will only be  a

matter of time before they find us." A distant pressure  slipped  into  Leia's

mind. Relief rushed through her as Jaina's mental presence made  itself  felt.

It wasn't some strange psychic attack, but a long-distance version of  a  Jedi

mind-meld. The link was  tremulous,  severely  attenuated.  It  was  obviously

taking a great deal of effort to keep  open,  and  it  soon  ebbed  and  faded

altogether.

"Princess?" Leia broke from her thoughts now to face  Ashpidar,  who  was

looking at her with some concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm sorry," Leia said, standing. "As long as no  stray  emissions  alert

the Yuuzhan Vong to our presence here, we should be safe for the  moment.  The

traitor inside the base is what we need to be focusing upon. Come with  me  to

the Falcon and I'll equip you with mouse droids. While you're addressing  that

problem, we'll work on the other."

Ashpidar stood and bowed her high, horned head. "I am grateful  for  your

assistance."

Eniknar escorted them back to the Falcon. No one spoke for  the  duration

of the short trip, but once they were safely back on board the  freighter  and

the security chief had gone, Droma immediately turned to Leia  and  shook  his

head. "I don't like him," he said. "Who? Eniknar?"

"Yeah, Eniknar," Droma said.  "Did  you  see  his  expression  when  that

telemetry came through?"

Leia nodded. "There was something not quite right about him." She  turned

to her Noghri bodyguards. "Did you recognize Eniknar's clan-scent?"

"We do not know him," Meewalh said.

"He has distanced himself from Honoghr," Cakhmain agreed. "Or  was  never

part of it," Droma said. "Let's set those droids on him and see what happens."

"They'll only detect a Yuuzhan Vong hiding under a masquer,"  Leia  said,

"and I would have noticed that already. If he is a traitor, then  we're  going

to have to force him to reveal himself."

Droma's eyes studied her closely. "You have a plan?"  "Maybe,"  she  said

thoughtfully. "But I have someone to talk to first."

Captain Mayn brought Grand Admiral Pellaeon up to date via the comm unit.

Jaina was still with Tahiri, Jag by her side, listening in via the  comm  unit

in the Selonia's medical wards. Pellaeon came  through  loud  and  clear  from

Right to Rule. Jaina's mother had managed to open contact with those in  orbit

via a transmission from a modified research droid. The droid, little more than

a repulsor unit with a subspace transmitter strapped to  its  back,  had  been

quickly redesigned to receive the  same  radio  frequencies  employed  by  the

planet's native life forms. In order to further avoid giving  away  the  relay

base's location, the Falcon had communicated  with  it  only  by  brief  laser

pulses on that frequency. Even so, the transmission from the droid  relay  had

barely lasted long enough to bring all parties up to date. Within  moments,  a

Yuuzhan Vong volley had cut the conversation dramatically short.

"So the Falcon and the relay base are effectively trapped," Pellaeon said

once Captain Mayn had finished.

"That's correct, sir."

"And there's been no sign of those ground troops yet?"

"None, sir."

"That won't last long. Commander Vorrik is impatient. He won't allow them

to sit on their hands down there; he'll want  results,  and  he'll  want  them

fast."

"Their first task," Tahiri said in low,  confident  tones,  "will  be  to

search the bombardment sites for signs of wreckage. When they've been cleared,

the spaces between will be examined. They'll begin at the center of the bombed

region and work outward. Although they  have  effectively  missed,  they  will

assume that their information was correct and that  the  relay  base  is  most

likely near the middle."

"And where is it, exactly?" Pellaeon asked.

"Near the edge," Captain Mayn said. "The bombed  region  centers  on  the

approximate location of the Falcon's last transmission. They won't  know  that

it's moved."

"So we have them at a slight disadvantage," Pellaeon said.

"All we need is a window of opportunity in which  to  act,"  Jaina  said.

"Our first priority is to get someone down there to help them. At the  moment,

Vorrik is hanging in there because he feels confident of finding the base.  If

he has priorities elsewhere, then his time isn't unlimited. Make it harder for

him to find the base and he might just decide that it's not worth it."

"It would give me immense pleasure to force that battle-clouded  fool  to

retreat from a fight." There seemed to be a hint of a smile in  the  admiral's

voice.

"What about the traitor on the ground?" Jag asked. "How are we  going  to

coordinate any sort of action knowing it could be undermined at any time?"

"That's a risk Mom is prepared to take," Jaina said. "She thinks  they've

already identified the traitor."

"The mouse droids?" Jag asked.

Jaina shook her head. "They didn't pick anything up. But she's keeping an

eye on him, in case he tries anything."

"We can do little about the traitor  down  there,"  Pellaeon  said.  "Our

issue is to focus on how to get a team onto the surface. Vorrik  has  Esfandia

effectively closed off. Neither of us can get down there."

"I think I might be able to help," Tahiri said. "All I need is access  to

a Yuuzhan Vong hulk. I'm sure there must be at least one floating  around  out

there left over from the battle."

"Actually, we have the orbits of six  charted,"  Pellaeon  said.  "But  I

doubt you'll get away with taking one of  them  down  to  the  surface.  After

Colonel Fel's performance, they won't fall for that trick in a hurry again."

"That's not what I intend. There might be a living villip choir on one of

them. Give me that, and I'll give you the window you require."

The blond girl's expression was fiercely determined,  almost  stern;  she

was a far cry from the confused, broken girl who had come to Mon Calamari  for

help prior to setting out on the mission.

"And how will you do that, exactly?" Pellaeon asked.

"I will tell Vorrik that I intend to lead the Falcon and the  relay  base

into a trap," she said. "I'll tell him that I plan to betray Princess Leia and

Captain Solo in the bargain."

Pellaeon seemed uncertain. "He'll suspect a double cross."

"Perhaps," Tahiri said easily. "But he won't be able  to  afford  not  to

take advantage of the offer. A quick and easy victory will enable him to  move

elsewhere without disgrace."

The Grand Admiral still didn't seem convinced, and Jaina could understand

why. What if Tahiri really did betray Han and Leia, not Vorrik at all? What if

she was planning a triple cross with Pellaeon himself on the receiving end?

"I trust her," Jaina said. At some point she knew that they were going to

have to let Tahiri prove herself worthy, and now seemed as good a time as any-

especially since the combined knowledge of Tahiri and Riina might be the  only

thing capable of getting them out of the mess they had  found  themselves  in.

Besides which, her gut instincts told her that Tahiri was whole and strong. "I

trust her with my life."

Her bold declaration had the required effect.

"Very well," Pellaeon said after a moment's thought, seemingly satisfied.

Beside her, Jaina also noticed the  tense  set  to  Jag's  shoulder  ease

noticeably. She even felt a slight lessening of intensity from Tahiri.

"I'll leave you to organize the details with the  Falcon  and  the  relay

base, once they open communications again," Pellaeon went on. "I ask only that

you advise me of the outcome. I'll maintain the situation up here as long as I

can. If you need assistance, you have but to ask."

The admiral's small speech was stiff, almost formal. Jaina suspected  she

knew why, and it surprised her.

"Of course we'll need your assistance, Admiral,"  she  said.  "We're  not

going to get through this blockade on our own. You loaned Captain Mayn  a  TIE

squadron during the initial advance. I'd like to requisition  another  one  to

Twin Suns Squadron for the time being. Would this be acceptable?"

"Jaina Solo," he said with some amusement, "you're as much  a  politician

as your mother."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"As it was intended."

When the line to the Grand Admiral closed, Jag faced Jaina with a frown.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

It was Tahiri who answered him.

"Trust," she said. "If we don't use the Imperials, they'll feel as though

they're being left out, and then they'll wonder why.  If  we're  not  actively

keeping secrets from them, then we should let them participate  in  everything

we do. I suspect that this is why peace accords with the Empire have failed in

the past. A lack of fighting isn't peace; it's just a temporary  cessation  of

war."

Jaina nodded. "If we're going  to  work  together,  the  Empire  and  the

Galactic Alliance have to not just communicate with each other, but  use  each

other, also. Talking isn't enough. Until we fight  together,  risk  our  lives

alongside one another, we will always be apart."

"I'll give the squadrons some work to do until you're ready to commandeer

what you need," Captain  Mayn  interjected  into  the  conversation.  "As  the

ranking Jedi here, I'll take your instructions on what you require the Selonia

to do in support of your mission."

It hit Jaina, then, that she was effectively  in  charge.  Yes,  she  was

relaying her orders, but the finer points would be under her command. Even the

Grand Admiral of the Imperial Fleet was prepared to take her  recommendations.

It was strange, but she didn't feel discomforted by the authority she suddenly

found herself carrying.

"Tahiri and I will confer," she said. "I'll issue instructions within the

hour. Keep everyone on red alert. If our situation changes, we'll need to  act

immediately."

"Understood," Mayn said. She signed off.

"Well," Jag said, nodding as if impressed. "Check out Chief Jaina."

"You should  watch  yourself,"  she  said.  "I  could  have  you  up  for

insubordination with talk like that."

"Is that so? You may be able to throw your weight  around  here,  Colonel

Solo, but when next we meet on the sparring mats it will be a different  story

altogether, I assure you."

"Funny, but if I recall, it was me who had the upper hand  last  time  we

clashed, back on Mon Cal."

Tahiri's laugh surprised them both. Together they turned to face her.

"What's so amusing?" Jaina asked.

"You two," Tahiri said. There was a smile on her face the likes of  which

Jaina hadn't seen in a long time. She'd smiled before, but not  like  this-not

so completely. "If Anakin were here, I'm sure he would have told  the  two  of

you to get a room or something."

Jaina returned the smile, certain that both of them felt the same pang of

grief below the happy memory-and certain, too, now, that Tahiri was  going  to

be all right.

Saba felt as though she were drowning in fragrance. The kidnappers,  many

of them riding giant, three-legged creatures they  called  carapods,  followed

Senshi down a steep, wriggling path into a deep valley,  the  sides  of  which

hung with thick vines that cascaded down the slopes like a  green,  still-life

waterfall. As they descended, the air grew thicker and hotter, and was heavily

laden with pollens and moisture. It made Saba's head spin; her pulse raced and

her skin itched as her body worked to combat the extra heat.

The steady rainfall wasn't helping, either. The air  was  so  humid  that

evaporation was almost impossible. She felt as if she  were  surrounded  by  a

boiling fog, a swirling glow in infrared that turned the green of  leaves  and

moss to crimson.

"How much farther?" Jacen asked the Ferroan ahead  of  them,  a  muscular

woman with her hair folded back in a fat bun.

"Not far," the woman said without looking back.

Saba could feel the young  Jedi's  irritation.  He  was  concerned  about

Danni, who was strapped to the carapod behind  them-just  as  Jabitha  was  to

another beast ahead of them. She still hadn't woken from  the  blow  that  had

knocked her unconscious. That worried Saba, too. Neither of them was a healer,

and they had exhausted their ability to help her very early on.  Danni  didn't

seem to be worsening, but neither was she improving. If she  remained  as  she

was for much longer, getting her to Tekli would become a priority.

Saba then fixed her thoughts on their destination. She sensed a  knot  of

darkness ahead, deep in the valley; a break  in  the  flow  of  life  sweeping

through Zonama. When she probed at it and tried to picture it in her mind, the

image that came was of a whirlpool storm in the atmosphere  of  a  gas  giant.

Normal flows continued around  it  more  or  less  undisturbed,  bending  only

slightly to make way for its presence, but anything that came  too  close  was

sucked in and devoured.

Senshi was leading them down into that heart of darkness. It called  Saba

through the fog, whispering directly into her mind. But  the  darkness  wasn't

deliberately calling her, she knew; it was just triggering the  darkness  that

was already in her-the doubts of her self-worth, and the  residual  guilt  for

the loss of her homeworld...

No! she told herself firmly, pushing the  emotions  from  her  mind.  She

wasn't about to allow this darkness to take hold of her thoughts. It  was  not

real; she had to stay focused!

Thankfully,  the  dark  allure  receded  slightly  in  response  to   her

determination, and she continued resolutely to follow Senshi on their downward

trek.

Everything was ready. A shuttle supplied by the Imperials had stocked the

gutted yorik-stronha picket ship analog that had once been called Hrosha-Gul-a

name  that  meant  "price  of  pain,"  Tahiri  knew.  Jaina  had   immediately

rechristened it Collaborator upon assuming control.

Tahiri stood amid the wreckage that had once been the bridge and pondered

what that name indicated for her future. Things seemed to be going well in her

mind, but she was ever vigilant for signs of disturbance. While the part  that

had once been Riina had reservations about attacking the Yuuzhan  Vong,  there

was no resistance to the plan Jaina had devised.

The part that had once been... The words seemed strange, irrelevant.  She

was thinking with one mind now, not two. Her thoughts were her  own,  and  the

time when her body had carried both Tahiri and Riina was little  more  than  a

bad dream-an increasingly distant one  at  that.  The  knowledge  they  shared

didn't come in words, as though from separate minds. It felt more as one would

converse with a conscience, a part of oneself. It felt right.

The Yuuzhan Vong did this to me, she told herself. Whether I  was  Tahiri

or Riina, they abused my mind and left me to suffer. And then they took Anakin

away from me. For that, if nothing else, I will fight them.

Earlier, she had located  the  lingering  remnants  of  a  villip  choir.

Setting up a primitive nutrient feed, she had coaxed it back into a  semblance

of functionality. She didn't know  how  well  it  would  work,  but  it  would

definitely transmit, and possibly receive, too. The  latter  depended  on  how

fundamentally the coral  hull  of  the  picket  ship  had  been  damaged.  The

equivalent of an antenna threaded through the  yorik  coral  in  the  form  of

spiraling fibers, attuned  to  the  subtle  vibrations  of  the  Yuuzhan  Vong

communications system.

Tahiri took a deep breath and activated the choir.  She  could  feel  the

stares of the others in the mission, staying silent and watchful out of  range

of the villips. For the moment, everything depended on her performance.

The villips folded themselves inside out and the  two  surviving  beacons

quivered to life.

"I. Riina of Domain Kwaad. seek to humble myself before Commander B'shith

Vorrik," she said, loudly and clearly in the Yuuzhan Vong language.

The villips fluttered like aquatic  creatures  feeding  in  an  inrushing

tide. Strange patterns fluttered across the choir's field of view, tantalizing

but never quite taking coherent form. A liquid, static-filled voice  tried  to

speak to her but emerged as nothing but grating vowels.

She tried again. "Riina of Domain Kwaad calls from the  valiant  husk  of

Hrosha-Gul. I abase my unworthy self in hope of an  audience.  My  service  to

Yun-Yuuzhan's glorious cause has not yet ended."

More grating sounds, then suddenly a harsh, guttural voice coalesced  out

of the noise.

"The commander does not waste time with failed domains."

"Domain Kwaad did not fail. I am Riina, a warrior, shaped to  obey.  Hear

me out if you wish your enemies delivered."

"Your words are lies, and your lies are empty." "My only lies are to  our

mutual enemies. It is they I send to their deaths."

There was a slight delay. Then, after a pause sufficient to be insulting,

a new voice growled at her: "Speak, feeble one."

"Do I have the honor of the commander's attention?" "No. You are unworthy

to inhabit the same universe as him. Speak!"

"I bring intelligence of the enemy's movements," she said. "The  infidels

have taken me into their trust. I will betray their  conspiracy  in  order  to

further Commander Vorrik's glory."

"And who are you to promise such things?" "I am Riina of Domain Kwaad.  I

am the one-who-was-shaped."

Another  pause.  "I  have  heard  of  this  heresy.  You  are  a   Jeedai

abomination."

"I am the pride of Yun-Harla. The shapers made me to obey. I abase myself

now in the hope that you will allow me to perform my sacred duty,  so  that  I

might return to the fold of the mighty Yuuzhan Vong."

Yet another pause, this one longer than the previous. She  suspected  she

was being transferred to someone still higher along the hierarchal chain. Sure

enough, when the quiet was finally  broken,  the  voice  belonged  to  another

warrior.

"Your claims offend my ears. You have the time it would take  for  me  to

drain the blood from a heretic to convince me not to blow your worthless  life

out of the skies!"

And so it went. The process was laborious, but necessary.  Every  Yuuzhan

Vong leader relied on this process  of  trial  by  underling  to  ensure  that

anything reaching him was worth listening to. If it wasn't, every one of those

underlings in the chain would pay dearly, and they knew  it.  But  with  every

underling she convinced, Tahiri became increasingly  certain  that  she  would

soon be talking to the commander himself,  and  that  she  would  be  able  to

convince him as she had his underlings.

Finally, the roughest, foulest voice of all spoke to her from the damaged

villip choir. It had to be the commander. His insults  echoed  those  she  had

already received in regard to  content,  but  the  tone  was  infinitely  more

malicious.

"Your visage offends my eyes," he said slowly, precisely, venom  dripping

from every syllable. "Your very existence is an affront to the proper order of

the universe. You will offer yourself as sacrifice to Yun-Yammka at the  first

opportunity  to  ensure  that  no  others  attempt  what  the  Kwaad  heretics

attempted."

Tahiri lowered her eyes. She had  expected  something  like  this.  "Lord

Commander, I shall obey. The Slayer may take me through your  very  hands,  if

you wish. Once

I have delivered victory over the infidels to you, I will have no further

reason to live."

This seemed to please him, marginally. "Speak, then, of how this  victory

may be accomplished."

"I have convinced the Jedi that I can be trusted, and that I will provide

safe passage onto the surface of the planet Esfandia. In  exchange  for  their

trust, and for your assistance in expediting our safe journey, I  will  betray

them at  the  first  opportunity  and  reveal  to  you  the  location  of  the

communications base you seek."

"How do I know that you can be trusted? You speak as a Yuuzhan Vong,  but

your appearance is that of an infidel!"

"You can see me that well, Great Commander?"  "The  image  is  poor,  but

clear enough to cause me revulsion."

"As it should, Commander. Were I not to be sacrificed, I  would  beg  the

shapers to give me a body more suitable of service to Yun-Yammka." She took  a

deep breath and concentrated. "As it is, I wish only to prove my dedication to

the gods. I am a faithful servant of Yun-Harla. The Cloaked  Goddess  protects

me among the infidels. She keeps my true face hidden. But it is there, beneath

this foul visage. I ask her for a sign that will prove my loyalty  to  you.  I

beseech the Trickster for one last chance to cleanse myself of  the  stain  of

abomination!"

Tahiri tipped her head back. The old scars on her forehead burned as  she

sent the Force through them. Inflicted by the Shaper Mezhan Kwaad  during  the

implantation of Riina, Tahiri had kept the scars as a memento of  her  trials.

They had come to symbolize everything from her loss of self on Yavin 4 to  the

death of Anakin. They were to play a much more important role now.

Under her will, the deep wounds opened afresh. Blood  trickled  down  her

temples and face as her skin parted and peeled back. She was  careful  not  to

show any emo-

tion but joy, keeping her mind focused on the Force rather than the pain.

The villip would be showing Commander Vorrik everything. The slightest flicker

of humanity, and he would know that she was lying.

Eventually Vorrik spoke. "Enough," he said. "You will be given the chance

you request."

Tahiri tipped her face forward. Blood dripped from her chin to her chest,

but she ignored it. " I am not worthy, commander."

"Today, abomination, Yun-Harla favors you. That is  enough  for  me.  The

yorik-stronha you have commandeered will be  allowed  to  enter  the  planet's

atmosphere. Any other  craft  attempting  to  escort  you,  however,  will  be

destroyed."

"Yes, Great One. This vessel will appear to descend under an uncontrolled

burn. The Imperial infidels will ignore it, as they  would  ignore  any  other

piece of space junk. I ask only that you ignore it, too."

"It shall be done. We shall await your signal. Do not fail me,  Riina  of

Domain Kwaad, or this will be merely the beginning of your torment."

Tahiri bowed. "I won't, Commander."

Tahiri straightened and stroked the villip choir's  control  nodule.  The

ball-shaped organisms inverted with a sigh, as though  they  knew  that  their

usefulness had been exceeded, and that they could now die in peace. As soon as

she was sure the choir had ceased transmitting, Tahiri let herself relax.

"Hu-carjen tok!" she cried out as the pain of her reopened wounds  rushed

in.

Jaina ran out of hiding to soothe her. "You didn't need to do that,"  she

said. "Are you all right?"

Tahiri nodded, but didn't argue about need. There had been little choice.

She wasn't little Tahiri any more; she was someone new-and this someone didn't

balk at what had to be done.

Jag was looking at her in a way he had never done before-almost as if  he

was reevaluating his opinion of her.

"We'll  start  the  burn  in  five  minutes,"  Jaina  went  on,  applying

synthflesh to the wounds on Tahiri's forehead. "That'll give you an hour to go

into a healing trance. And I'm ordering you to do just that, okay? I  need  as

many hands on deck as possible."

Tahiri nodded. She was a warrior and a Jedi, and both sides of  her  knew

to follow orders when they  made  sense.  After  receiving  a  spray  hypo  of

painkiller, she took a crash couch at the rear of the hollowed-out  space  and

closed her eyes.

The Millennium Falcon seemed empty without Droma and Han. Leia had little

do but wait as the plan was put into effect. The mission to the communications

transponder had left two hours earlier. Leia had been there as Han had  suited

up and tested the controls of his speeder bike.

"Sure you don't want to come?" he'd asked her, his voice  muffled  behind

the transparent visor of his  flexible  enviro-suit.  He'd  smiled  wryly  and

added, "Could be romantic, the two of us slipping away from the others to do a

bit of sight-seeing."

She'd laughed at this. "Sight-seeing on a planet with  an  atmosphere  of

methane and hydrogen? I think I'll pass, thanks all the same."

The suits were designed to keep the deep cold of Esfandia at bay as  well

as  provide  the  right  atmospheric  mix  for  several  species.  They  could

accommodate many different body types, which was fortunate given the people on

the  mission.  As  well  as  Han,  there  was  another  human   communications

technician, the Noghri security head, Eniknar-"Where I can keep an eye on him,

" as Han had put it - a hefty Klatooinian security guard, and

Droma, whose tail was snugly tucked away down one leg of the suit.

"Besides," she'd said as she watched the motley  bunch  ready  themselves

for the mission, "somebody needs to stay behind to mind the ship."

He couldn't argue that point. As much as he would have loved for Leia  to

be with him, he was practical enough to know the importance of keeping an  eye

on his freighter.

She had kissed his visor and wished him luck. Once outside the  base  and

beyond the confines of the nesting plain tunnels, the five speeder bikes  were

under strict comm silence. The slightest transmission would alert the  Yuuzhan

Vong ground teams  to  their  whereabouts.  If  they  maintained  the  ban  on

emissions and kept  low  to  the  surface,  it  was  unlikely  they  would  be

discovered - unless, of course, they were unlucky enough to run  into  one  of

those ground teams along the way.

Commander Ashpidar had offered Leia a refreshment in her office, and  she

had accepted. They had talked for perhaps half an hour  about  anything  other

than their situation, and she couldn't help wonder if the mood-sensitive Gotal

was trying to distract Leia from her concerns. Ashpidar talked about  life  on

Antar 4, where she'd met a commercial  interpreter  and  planned  to  raise  a

family. Her mate had  died  in  a  mining  accident,  however,  and  Ashpidar,

stricken with grief, had left her home to explore the larger galaxy. That  was

twenty standard years ago, she said, and she'd never looked back.

"Tell me about the Cold Ones," Leia said, using the commander's own  term

for the species of intelligent life indigenous to Esfandia-a term considerably

easier to pronounce than Brrbrlpp. "When were they taught  to  speak  trinary?

And by whom?"

"That was the previous base  commander,"  Ashpidar  replied.  "Before  my

time.  Communications  traffic  was  less,  then,  and  the   full-time   crew

correspondingly smaller. Commander Si was an exiled Gran, and lonely with  it.

In his off-duty hours he studied the Cold Ones  and  deciphered  their  calls,

noting what no one else had: despite the lack of  physical  evidence  such  as

tools, it was clear that the creatures had a culture. As  proof  of  this,  he

taught them to speak trinary, which is much easier to  understand  than  their

native tongue. They communicate exclusively with  us  in  that  language  now,

keeping us informed of their movements so we're aware at all  times  of  their

whereabouts."

Leia nodded solemnly. "That way you avoid accidental deaths like the ones

we were responsible for." "Exactly."

"Do they communicate with you often?" Ashpidar came as close  to  smiling

as Leia had seen, but her tone remained dull and lifeless. "The Cold Ones love

to talk. Their calls can travel great distances. Sometimes  the  whole  planet

seems alive with their  chatter."  "Are  there  many  of  them?"  Leia  asked.

"They're not a bountiful species, and  never  have  been.  We  estimate  their

numbers to be in the thousands." "That's not a lot."

"No, but then Esfandia isn't the sort of world that can support  a  large

and varied ecosystem. As the core temperature winds down, the available niches

are contracting. The fact that there are no tides or  seasons  tends  to  mean

that the same species have propagated across the entire planet. What  Esfandia

has at the moment is a sort of equilibrium. Relatively speaking, the Cold Ones

are like rancors, at the top of the food chain, eating anything they  can  get

their mouths around farther down. They tend  vast  gardens  that  stretch  for

kilometers, and herd flocks of flying insects that they trade for trace  miner

- als filtered from the air. It's  a  complex  system  that's  very  gradually

devolving, but it serves them well for the moment."

"And now the Yuuzhan Vong have come along and disrupted everything."

Ashpidar nodded her great horned head. "Explosions  and  vehicular  wakes

have a profound effect on the biosphere. That's why  this  base's  design  was

structured on that of an All Terrain Armored Transport. In time, perhaps,  the

energy input to the system will actually increase growth in  some  areas,  but

initially it causes nothing but widespread destruction. I have suggested  that

the Cold Ones take shelter in the nesting plains until the crisis is over, but

they are a curious species. Many of them, particularly the younger ones, would

happily risk death for just a little excitement in their lives."

Later, back in the Falcon, it was these words  that  Leia  found  herself

pondering. Some things, it seemed, were universal. Her own  children  were  no

different from those of the Cold Ones-and they were no different from how  she

had been at their age, either. What was it about  youth,  she  wondered,  that

sent them on such extreme quests for selfhood and  experience?  What  was  the

point of finding out who you were if it meant dying in the process?

"I must be getting old, Threepio," she said to the golden droid.

"We all are, Mistress," he chirped mournfully in reply.

The atmosphere was gloomy and close when they reached the  floor  of  the

valley. Jacen looked warily around him, sensing  hostility  but  not  able  to

identify its source. Hanging vines and ropelike roots, sliding in and  out  of

cracks in the rock like snakes, hid the steep V  of  the  valley  below.  High

above, the dense  canopy  formed  a  distant  ceiling  from  which  rain  fell

steadily. He felt as though they'd entered a vast underground chamber.

Their destination wasn't far away. A narrow river flowing  noisily  along

the bottom of the valley had been blocked by a rockfall, forming a dam  around

which a stand of boras grew. These trees clawed their way  through  the  stone

walls and floor of the valley, their trunks coiling around each other, knotted

in a dense and sinister-looking mat. Jacen sensed a furious struggle caught in

the posture of the trees, as though the boras had been frozen in  the  act  of

trying to devour one another. The strangely motile limbs of  the  giant  trees

swayed and snapped between the trunks, unnervingly like  the  tentacles  of  a

sarlacc, seeking prey.

"We're going in there?" he asked the Ferroan ahead of them.

"Yes," she replied, as curtly as she had to  every  other  question  he'd

asked.

"Mind telling me why?"

"You'll find out soon enough," she said.

The carapod bearing Danni plodded along behind them. Jacen felt a strange

excitement brewing in the creature's mind-as though it recognized this  place-

but he could get nothing more from it than that. Its hide was as  thick  as  a

bantha's, and oddly rich in metals, glinting occasionally in the poor light.

At the edge of the stand of boras, Senshi stopped the party. The Ferroans

riding carapods quickly dismounted.  Danni's  and  Jabitha's  stretchers  were

unloaded. "We walk the rest of the way," Senshi said. "Wait a  minute."  Jacen

shouldered his way through the knot of kidnappers to the  Ferroan  leader.  "I

don't like the look of that place."

Senshi shrugged. "That's not my concern. You chose to accompany  us,  and

this is where we are going. You can either come with us or leave.  The  choice

remains yours."

"There iz a third choice," Saba hissed menacingly, Jacen put  a  hand  on

her arm to stay any hostile actions. He could feel her muscles vibrating  like

overtightened wires beneath her scales. "We'll come with you," he  said.  "But

if you make any attempt to harm-"

"What?" Senshi interjected sharply. "What will you do, Jedi? All  I  hear

are empty words. Make good with your threats or stay out of my way!"

Without another word, the kidnappers continued into the stand  of  boras.

Their silent compliance unnerved him as  much  as  their  destination.  Senshi

seemed to have them all hypnotized.

They circled the muddy lake and came to the  natural  dam  that  was  its

genesis. It rose like a scar across the bottom of the valley, ten meters high,

blocking off the river. Waterfalls trickled down the  far  side  of  the  dam,

creating a series of smaller rivers that joined up farther  down  the  valley.

The stand of boras was densest there, towering above them. Their trunks merged

and joined in one particular space, isolating a blackened  pit  with  a  stone

floor. Charred tentacles rose from its edges like frozen smoke.

Jacen looked nervously around him as the party continued  their  descent.

He and Saba kept to the rear, stepping carefully from root to  root  down  the

steep slope. The air around them smelled of damp charcoal, as though countless

fires had been kindled and quashed here over the years.

At the bottom of the pit, the kidnappers came to  a  halt  again.  Senshi

ordered the stretcher bearing the Magister to be placed on the  buckled  stone

floor, Danni's beside her.

"This one iz concerned," Saba muttered to Jacen, her eyes  searching  the

gloom. "The life energies here are... tangled. We are all in danger."

Jacen  wasn't  about  to  argue  with  that;  he  had  exactly  the  same

reservations. He confronted Senshi with his concerns.  "What  is  this  place,

Senshi? Why are we here?"

"Boras have a complex life cycle," the head kidnapper said. "They  are  a

magnificent species in all respects. Their seeds are more  like  animals  than

plants. They channel lightning to fuel complex organic processes, deep  within

their trunks. Their roots link and merge  in  a  communications  network  that

spans the globe. We cohabit the surface of Sekot, the boras  and  us,  and  we

respect each other's differences."

The ground seemed to tremble beneath their feet. "Just like  all  organic

systems," Senshi went on, "there can be injuries, diseases, cancers.  This  is

one such place, where  the  natural  patterns  of  Sekot  have  been  stunted,

twisted. There are malignant boras, just as there can be malignant people.  On

the whole, such boras are perfectly  safe-unless  you  disturb  their  seeding

grounds, of course, in which case you are in great danger."

Jacen felt compelled to ask, even though part of  him  already  knew  the

answer: "Where are they, these seeding grounds?"

A sudden swirling of antipathy swept  around  them,  radiating  from  the

boras.

Senshi smiled. "We're standing on them."

Saba had had enough. She  snatched  her  lightsaber  from  her  side  and

ignited it with a touch of its activation stud. Everyone around the pit turned

to her, their faces painted by the bright red glow from her blade.

The action seemed  to  whip  the  malignant  boras  to  a  new  level  of

excitement. Saba felt subsonic rumblings pass through her claws to the pads of

her feet as the tentacles of the trees flailed over their heads, snapping  and

crackling like an angry brushfire.

"Saba, wait!" Jacen called out.

"We cannot stay here." She kept her stare fixed on Senshi as  she  spoke.

"It'z not safe. And Danni needz attention! This one iz telling you to take  us

out of here now."

She flexed her muscles to add her  considerable  Barabel  weight  to  the

request.

"No," Senshi returned, unmoved by either her words or her posturing.

"It's okay, Saba," Jacen said, stepping up to her and motioning  for  her

to lower her weapon.

She stared at him, confused. Couldn't he see the  danger  they  were  in?

Couldn't he sense through the Force that something wasn't right here?

"Please," he urged. "Trust me."

Despite her reservations, she deactivated her lightsaber and  lowered  it

as he requested. He nodded his appreciation, then faced Senshi.

"Please, before someone gets hurt, can't you explain to us what is  going

on? What is it you hope to achieve by bringing us here?"

"That all depends on what you intend to do about it."

"What does that mean?" Jacen  said  in  obvious  exasperation.  "I  don't

understand."

"You will, soon enough."

"Great is the Potentium..." A low chant came from the combined voices  of

those around them. "Great is the life of Sekot."

Saba felt the energies  of  the  boras  gathering  together.  The  trunks

shuddered and stretched, as though reaching for the sky. She felt a  gathering

potential in the air, building  with  every  second.  Whatever  was  going  to

happen, it was coming fast.

"All serve and are served," the crowd chanted. "All join the Potentium!"

Jabitha moaned. Before Saba had chance to react, Senshi was on the ground

beside the Magister, one hand across her throat and the other pressing one  of

the organic lightning rods against her temple.

"Move and I'll kill her," he said to the stunned Jedi Knights.

Saba froze, her thumb hesitating over her lightsaber's activation stud.

"This isn't what I expected," the Magister said, her eyes flickering open

to look at those gathered around her.

"That was the idea," Senshi hissed, dragging her and the stretcher closer

to the edge of the pit. "Now what, Jedi?" he asked Jacen. "Now what?"

"Now we'll see," Mara whispered as Darak hurried back into  the  habitat-

armed, Luke hoped, with the results of the analysis of the  anomalous  gravity

readings from Mobus's third moon.

Darak whispered to Rowel in a language  that  Luke  couldn't  understand.

Then, as one, both the Ferroans turned to face him.

"Our sensors detect no gravitic anomaly," Rowel said.

"What?" Mara said. "You're saying you detect nothing?"

Rowel nodded. "Your comrades must have been mistaken with their readings.

"

"Either that," Darak put in, "or you have been attempting to mislead us."

"Or you could be wrong," Mara said angrily.

"We have studied this system  for  decades,"  Rowel  said,  rearing  back

defensively. "We know its moons intimately. We are not wrong."

"Perhaps you are being lied to," Luke said, trying to  ease  the  growing

tensions. "Tell me, who did your information come from?"

"From Sekot, of course, via the boras network," Rowel replied in  a  tone

that suggested Luke had to be a fool for even asking.  "Everything  on  Zonama

begins and ends with Sekot."

Luke nodded his understanding, raising the comlink

to his lips. "Captain Yage, I want you  to  send  a  flight  of  TIEs  to

investigate that anomaly."

"I have a flight  on  standby  now,  sir,"  Yage  responded  immediately,

clearly picking up on the more formal tone in  Luke's  voice.  "They'll  break

formation in ten seconds."

"What-?" Darak stepped forward, her face pinched in alarm.

Luke ignored her, speaking to Yage again via  his  comlink.  "Good  work,

Captain. You may authorize them to use destructive force if necessary."

"You can't do this!"  Darak  protested  heatedly.  "You  don't  have  the

authorization to  maneuver  in  our  vicinity  -  let  alone  take  aggressive

measures!"

"If you aren't prepared to do what needs to be done," Luke said smoothly,

"then I will do it for you."

"This  is  unacceptable!"  Rowel  exclaimed.   "Recall   those   fighters

immediately or-"

Mara rose to her feet and placed both hands defiantly on  her  hips.  "Or

what, exactly?"

"You don't intimidate me," Rowel said-although the tremor  in  his  voice

belied his words. "Nor do you intimidate Sekot! Remember, it is  only  by  its

goodwill that you are here at all. Push that goodwill too far, and  your  fate

will be the same as that of the Far Outsiders!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Mara  said.  "Maybe  that's  why  you're

lying to us-to provoke us into getting on your precious planet's bad side!"

"That's preposterous! Why would we bother going to such lengths-"

"You tell me," Mara said, coming around the table to face Rowel.

He retreated  a  step,  eyes  widening.  "Great  is  the  Potentium,"  he

whispered hastily, as though in prayer. "Great is the life of Sekot!"

Luke sent a mental prompt to Mara, and she backed off. "We're not here to

threaten you," he said to Darak. "We'd just like to help, that's  all."  Rowel

snorted. "Sekot is the only help we require."

"Really?" Luke said. "Suppose one of the Far Outsiders' ships managed  to

survive the attack we saw; what do you think would happen if the pilot of that

ship slipped out of your bubble of safety and reported to his superiors  about

what he found here? The next thing you know, you'd  have  a  fleet  ten  times

bigger than the one you saw here yesterday bearing down upon you. Could  Sekot

defend you against that?"

"Easily," Darak said.

"And the fleet after that?"

"Of course!"

"And the one after that?" he pressed.

She hesitated this time, the notion of repetitive attacks clearly dawning

behind her confident facade.

Before anyone could speak again, Luke's comlink bleeped. He answered  the

call. "Yes?"

"The fighters are approaching the moon,"  Captain  Yage  reported.  "I'll

patch a live telemetry feed through  to  Jade  Shadow.  Tekli  can  relay  the

information to you from there." There was a delay of two  seconds  before  the

Chadra-

Fan's voice came over the line.

"I'll do my best to describe what's going on," she said. "There are three

TIEs closing in on the source of the gravity waves."

"I insist you turn them back," Rowel said.

With a look from Mara, the Ferroan fell silent and stormed from the room.

"The source is steady," Tekli continued. "It's  a  regular  pulse  coming

from behind M-Three."

"Does it match any known dovin basal patterns?"

"No. it's not something we've seen before. It could be  a  beacon,  or  a

long-range carrier wave of some kind." There was a slight pause. "The TIEs are

conducting a preliminary survey of the moon  now.  It's  old  with  a  rugged,

heavily cratered surface. Deep and cold-it's  perfect  for  hiding  in.  There

seems to be traces of several recent flybys."

"We occasionally mine this moon for selenium," Darak said when Mara faced

her questioningly.

"Recently?" she asked.

"No, but-"

"They've found the source," Tekli said. "It's a deep pit on the far side.

Very deep, in fact. One of them is going in to investigate."

"Tell them to be careful," Luke said.

"They're taking every precaution," Captain  Yage  assured  him  over  the

line. "They're following standard Imperial search procedures. Two remain  back

while one sweeps  the  location.  If  they  see  anything  they'll  pull  back

immediately to report. Depending on the data-"

Yage came to an abrupt halt.

Luke stiffened, feeling a premonition through the Force.  "Captain  Yage?

Tekli? Report!"

"The emissions just spiked," Tekli said after  a  few  seconds'  silence.

"There's definitely something in there. Whatever it is, it  reacted  when  the

TIE came closer to take a look. The TIE is moving in for a  second  pass.  The

gravity waves are all over the place and there are seismic vibrations-"

Again the transmission ceased in midsentence. The break was only for  two

seconds, but it felt longer to Luke. "It's out!" Tekli cried. "They flushed it

out! It looks like a coralskipper, and it's making a break for it!"

Luke spoke rapidly into the comlink. "That  ship  cannot  be  allowed  to

leave the system! Captain Yage,  you  must  deploy  all  available  forces  to

intercept. Whatever is required, it has to be stopped!"

"There is no ship," Darak fumed as she hurriedly exited  the  room  also.

"This is just a ruse to allow you to mobilize your forces against us!"

"Check your sensors if you still don't believe  us,"  Mara  called  after

her. " You couldn't possibly be missing this."

"The Widowmaker has deployed all its TIEs and broken orbit itself," Tekli

reported. "The skip is evading pursuit, using Mobus's gravity to  whip  itself

out to the edge of the system. The three TIEs that found it are  following  as

best they can."

"Is it going to get away?" Luke asked.

There was another pause. "It might."

Luke could hear Mara's teeth grinding in nervous tension.  "  If  we  had

Jade Shadow, none of this would be a problem."

Darak returned with Rowel, with a small contingent of Ferroan  guards  in

tow.

"Our sensors show nothing," Rowel said. "The system is  empty!  You  have

betrayed our trust-just as we knew you would!"

"Seize them!" Darak pointed and the guards moved in on  Luke,  Mara,  and

Dr. Hegerty.

In a flash, Mara was on her feet, lightsaber in hand.  Luke  joined  her,

his bright green blade in front of him and the doctor safely behind.

The guards hesitated, and in the brief silence before anyone spoke,  Luke

found himself wondering in dismay how the quest for Zonama  Sekot  could  have

come to this. Whatever Vergere had intended  by  sending  them  here,  it  now

looked like it was going to  come  to  naught.  "This  isn't  going  to  solve

anything," Hegerty said. "There has to be an explanation for what's going on!"

"Name one that doesn't involve your duplicity," Darak sneered.

"Bioscreens," the elderly scientist suggested quickly.

"Something the Yuuzhan Vong have  developed  that  interferes  with  your

sensors, perhaps, but not ours. They could have been spying on  you  for  ages

without your knowing-until we came and flushed them out!"

"If there are any intruders in our system," Darak said, "then Sekot  will

be able to deal with them. We don't need your help."

"If we can't catch this thing," Mara said, "then how do you expect to?"

"Sekot has powers far beyond your own. If it so  chose,  it  could  reach

across this system and snuff the life out of a single cell." Then, with a dark

expression, she added, "It could sterilize your Widowmaker  with  little  more

than a thought."

Luke sensed his wife beside him tense at the threat. While he  questioned

Darak's statement, the thought of Yage and her crew being destroyed  made  him

feel ill.

" If you insist there is something in our  system  evading  our  senses,"

Darak went on, "then Sekot can choose to destroy everything  in  that  sector,

just to be on the safe side."

Mara glanced at Luke. "That would certainly fix the  problem.  We  should

tell Yage to get those TIEs out of there and let Sekot do its stuff."

"I'm not saying it will do  this,"  Darak  said.  "Sekot  takes  its  own

counsel. The decision does not lie with you or me."

Mara was watching Luke closely, waiting for his  decision.  But  for  the

moment he had no words to offer, no orders to give. His mind was stuck on  how

Sekot could act across such a vast distance quickly enough to stop the fleeing

coralskipper. Conventional weapons simply wouldn't work in this  instance,  he

knew, and the Force, of course, wouldn't work against the  Yuuzhan  Vong.  And

even if it did...

Great is the Potentium, Rowel had said. Great is the life of Sekot.

The Potentium was an unusual view of the Force, and  not  one  that  Luke

found he  could  easily  relate  to.  Its  teachings  didn't  acknowledge  the

existence of the dark side.  Jabitha  had  indicated  that  she  regarded  the

intention behind an action to be more important than how the act was executed:

the same argument, in other words, that others had advocated in the early days

of the war against the Yuuzhan Vong. The ends justified  the  means.  But  the

dark side was ultimately corrupting, and would turn anyone who used it against

the very ones they were trying to defend.

Anakin killed with the strength of his mind. Until that  moment,  we  had

not known that such things were possible...

"Sekot must not act," Luke said finally.

"What?" said Mara and Darak at the same time.

"Call it off," he insisted. "I don't care how you do it, but  Sekot  must

not attack that coralskipper!"

Renewed suspicion filled Darak's eyes. "You would only say that if  you'd

been lying all along. There is no coralskipper, is there?"

Luke didn't have time to argue his case with  the  stubborn  Ferroan.  He

closed his eyes, looking for inspiration and strength to do what his  instinct

told him he had to do.

Taking his comlink, he quickly contacted the Widowmaker.  "Captain  Yage,

recall the TIEs and return to orbit. Under no circumstances are you to provoke

Sekot."

There was uncertainty in the heartbeat  of  silence  before  Yage  spoke.

"Understood."

"The TIEs are turning back," Tekli confirmed a couple of  seconds  later.

"The skip has a clear run for the edge of the system."

Mara was staring at her husband as though he'd lost his mind. " Luke,  if

that skip gets away-"

"I know, Mara," he said. "Trust me."

Better that the coralskipper escapes and tells  the  Yuuzhan  Vong  where

Sekot is, he thought to himself, than Sekot turns to the dark side.

The thought of a living planet serving  the  forces  of  destruction  and

terror-the same planet that was the symbol of the Yuuzhan Vong  occupation  of

the galaxy-was a disturbing one. All it would take was a single  step  in  the

wrong direction for Sekot to begin the long, inevitable fall.  And  that  step

could be something as simple as the destruction of that Yuuzhan Vong skip...

"The coralskipper," Tekli  said  over  the  comlink,  breaking  into  his

thoughts. "Something's happening to it!"

Part Four Revelation

Ngaaluh joined Nom Anor and Kunra deep beneath the quarters she had  most

recently been assigned.  A  double  shift  of  guards  outside  the  Prophet's

personal chambers let her  through  after  checking  with  their  master.  Her

expression was wary, concerned.

"Master." She bowed her  head  in  respect  and  nodded  a  more  cursory

acknowledgment of Kunra. "I came as quickly as I could. What is the emergency?

"

"The emergency has passed, for  now.  I  called  you  here  to  keep  you

informed." In an unhurried, matter-of-fact tone, Nom  Anor  explained  to  his

chief spy in the court of Shimrra what had happened the previous night. As she

learned of Shoon-mi's betrayal, her eyes widened. Even after years of training

in the deceptive arts, she was unable to completely hide her shock.

"This is impossible," she said at one point, shaking her head  as  though

refusing to hear. "I cannot accept that Shoon-mi would do this."

Nom Anor lowered the collar he had worn high all day, revealing the  gash

the traitor had put in his throat. "It happened," he said. His  tone  remained

calm, belying the rage still burning in his gut and the  dark  suspicion  that

was rising to take its place. "The fool dared raise his hand against  me,  and

has paid for it. But I wonder if this is not the end of it."

"I have asked around," Kunra said, his expression grim. "Shoon-mi was not

alone in his discontent. There is a feeling growing that  we  are  not  moving

quickly or decisively enough."

"And I wonder at Shoon-mi's boldness," Nom Anor added. "He simply  didn't

have the brains to organize such a coup on his own. There has  to  be  someone

else behind it."

Ngaaluh glanced at Kunra, then back at her Prophet. Her eyes were full of

confusion and uncertainty. "Who would that be, Master?"

"At this point," Nom Anor said, "your guess is as good as  mine.  But  we

will find them, and eliminate them." "There are rivals,"  Kunra  said.  "There

are at least two subordinate acolytes, Idrish and V'tel, who would take  power

for themselves, if they thought they could get away with it."

"I find it..." Ngaaluh struggled for the right words. "... appalling  and

inconceivable that someone in  whom  you  have  placed  so  much  trust  would

consider turning on you."

"That they would consider it is what makes them  such  good  emissaries."

Nom Anor examined her alarm at the thought and found it sincere but  puzzling.

"Why does this surprise you? You are an expert at deception. You know that  it

is in everyone's nature to betray-if not Shimmra, then me, or both of us."

"But no-" She swallowed. "To attack you  would  undermine  everything  we

have worked for. It is not something the Jeedai would sanction."

Ah. The words of a true fanatic to whom the  movement  was  as  pure  and

incorruptible as its ideals. To Nom Anor, a realist, the heresy was  something

quite different, and it behaved as such. To him it was a  means  of  attaining

power, and there was nothing stopping others within the movement  from  trying

to use it toward exactly the same end.

"Not all are as dedicated as you, dear Ngaaluh," he said.  "Not  all  see

things so clearly."

"Perhaps the attack came from outside the movement," she said,  her  lips

tightening into a thin, angry line, "from Shimrra."

"The Supreme Overlord has tried to infiltrate  us  in  the  past,"  Kunra

conceded, "but he could never have gotten so close as to turn Shoon-mi without

us knowing."

"And he hasn't the patience for such a plan," Nom Anor  said.  "He  would

have used Shoon-mi to lead his warriors into the heart of  our  hiding  place,

then destroyed us in one sweep.  No."  He  shook  his  head  decisively.  "Had

Shimrra been behind it, we would be rotting in the yargh'un pit right now with

the other heretics."

"If word spreads of this attack on you," she said, exhibiting more of her

usual spirit, "that might make a suitable cover story. It will provide a  more

palatable explanation than that one of your closest turned against you."

"Word will not spread," Kunra said grimly. "I have made certain of that."

"And what good would such a tale do anyway?" Nom Anor  asked.  "It  would

fill our masses with anger and the need for revenge. They would demand that we

attack Shimrra directly, to make it known that we cannot  be  intimidated.  We

cannot do that. It would be death for us all to make a  move  on  the  Supreme

Overlord before we are ready."

"If we were ready soon-"

"We won't be, Ngaaluh. Our undertaking is massive  and  the  risk  great.

Small acts of terrorism are one thing; we can afford to lose a cell or two  if

the perpetrators are discovered. But to throw everything into an  ill-prepared

confrontation with Shimrra?" He shook his head. "It would be less  a  case  of

doing than dying."

She nodded slowly, as though faintly disappointed.

What was it with fanatics? Nom Anor asked himself.  Why  were  they  ever

willing to throw their lives away on doomed quests? This was one instance when

the Jedi were setting a very  bad  example.  After  Ganner  and  Anakin  Solo,

pointless death seemed to have garnered a powerful glamour.

But not for Nom Anor, he swore. If he was going to fall, it wasn't to  be

with some scruffy rabble on a misguided quest that had no hope of succeeding.

She seemed to accept it at last. Ngaaluh's head hung down onto her  chest

as she said, "You are right, of course, Master."

"I am," he reassured her with more than a hint of command in  his  voice.

"We are striving on numerous fronts. Our numbers grow every  day.  Shimrra  is

aware of us and our efforts. It's only a matter of time before he accepts  the

inevitable."

"Yes, Master." Her head came up, and he saw in  her  eyes  that  she  had

swallowed his rhetoric completely. "He cannot ignore us forever."

"So we continue with our plans. We will  spread  the  message  ever  more

widely, and facilitate its spread by getting rid of those who oppose  us.  The

campaign against Zareb goes as expected, I presume?"

"Those who will speak  against  him  have  successfully  infiltrated  his

household," she said. "When the time is  right,  they  will  be  captured  and

interrogated."

"The time is right," Nom Anor said. The time was always  right  to  watch

another rival fall. "Set the plan in motion tomorrow."

"I worry about this," Kunra said. "We  are  wasting  resources,  throwing

novices in such numbers to their deaths."

Nom Anor nodded. This was the strongest  argument  against  his  plan  of

revenge, but it was easily countered.

"We will find more. The one thing we don't lack for at the moment, Kunra,

is a willing congregation."

"They may become less willing if our targets remain lowly intendants  and

executors."

"Not so lowly," Nom Anor said with a scowl. He remembered his days as  an

executor with fondness after long months of squalor behind  the  mask  of  the

Prophet.

"But it is hard to see their relevance in the larger  scheme  of  things.

Yes, they may create opportunities for those loyal to us to rise, but how long

must the faithful wait before they are free?" Kunra's eyes narrowed, as though

he were squinting into a bright light. "I repeat only that which I hear on the

lips of malcontents. It is not my opinion."

"No, because you have no more wish to commit suicide than  I."  Nom  Anor

exhaled heavily. "We will deal with malcontents as they arise. Let them attack

Shimrra if they want. They will do it without my support, or my resources."

"Perhaps one of them will get lucky," Ngaaluh said with a  gleam  in  her

eye.

It was time to stop the conversation in its tracks. Killing Shimrra,  Nom

Anor knew, would have disastrous consequences for the  heretics.  Chaos  would

reign for as long as it took a new Supreme Overlord to take power  -  and  how

much harder would it be to curry  favor  from  Warmaster  Nas  Choka  or  High

Prefect Drathul, both of whom were relatively  unknown  quantities?  Nom  Anor

needed Shimrra exactly where he was.  If  Shimrra  fell  and  the  war  effort

failed, he doubted that Mara Jade Skywalker and the  Galactic  Alliance  would

show much mercy when they found out who was really behind the Jedi Heresy...

"You received a courier today," he said to the priestess. "I  presume  he

carried word from Shimrra's court."

"Yes," she said, momentarily flustered by the change in  topic.  "I  have

underlings bring me news on a regular basis. It does not do  to  keep  out  of

touch for long. A misstep can be fatal."

That Nom Anor knew well. "Do any of the developments concern us? Has High

Priest Jakan's spineray notion been approved?"

"It has been turned down, as expected." She thought for a moment.  "There

was one matter my underling reported. It may not be of direct concern, but  it

is still intriguing. Do you remember that mission to  the  Unknown  Regions  I

mentioned before?"

"The commander who thought he had found Zonama Sekot? He went missing, if

I recall, after making his claims."

"Yes. There is more to the story, now. It appears  that  this  Ekh'm  Val

didn't just claim to have found the living planet.  He  claimed  that  he  had

brought a piece back from it."

"Really?" Nom Anor feigned interest. "Has this Commander Val been located

yet?"

"No, Master."

"And what happened to that piece of Zonama Sekot?"

"It has disappeared, too."

He snorted. "Very convenient. What do you think, Kunra? Another  boastful

warrior with nothing to back up his claim?"

"There is  corroborating  evidence,"  Ngaaluh  said  before  Kunra  could

answer. "A yorik-trema was impounded about the same time as Commander  Val  is

supposed to have made his  claims.  Also,  a  vessel  by  the  name  of  Noble

Sacrifice entered orbit around Yuuzhan'tar immediately prior to then.  It  was

destroyed on suspicion of harboring infidel spies. The landing  field  records

indicate that the impounded yorik-trema came from Noble

Sacrifice."

"I don't understand the mystery," Nom Anor said.

"Why can't this ship have been exactly what we're told it was?"

"It is not in Warmaster Nas Choka's nature to  hide  incursions  of  this

kind. He would have reported it, used the fact that his warriors  successfully

stopped it to gain advancement in Shimrra's eyes. He  wouldn't  bury  it  like

this."

"Are you certain it has been buried? Perhaps your informants conveniently

ignore a proper handling of the affair for the sake of a good story."

Ngaaluh shook her head.  "  I  checked.  There  is  no  mention  of  this

Commander Val anywhere, in any of the official recordings."

"So he didn't exist at all."

"Yet I did find him."

That surprised him. "I thought you said he'd disappeared."

"Not for those who looked hard enough."

Nom Anor was intrigued now, whether he wanted to be or not. "Where is he,

then? Have you spoken to him?"

"Sadly, no. He is in no condition to talk.  Commander  Val  is  dead.  My

underling found his body in the yargh'un pit. It  had  been  stripped  of  all

identifying features and tossed, lifeless, with the others Shimrra has  shamed

with a dishonorable death."

For a moment, Nom Anor was convinced. Something was  afoot;  someone  had

wanted Commander Val silenced, for some sinister reason, perhaps  inimical  to

Shimrra...

Then his usual skepticism returned.

"How did you know it was him?" he challenged her. "You said the body  had

no identifying marks."

"The  timing  of  the  body's  death  coincided   with   Val's   supposed

disappearance," she responded "Besides, how many perfectly fit  warriors  have

you seen thrown into yargh'un pits? That honor is reserved for  those  of  the

lowest ranks, starving heretics convicted of the foulest crime of heresy."

"Treachery is not much higher. If Val had collaborated with the infidels,

or allowed himself to be corrupted, his fate might have been  the  same.  Your

underling could have been mistaken-or simply added his own elaborations to the

tale."

"It's possible," she conceded.

"I fear that you have been taken for a fool,  Ngaaluh.  You  should  know

better."

"I will not argue that point with you, Master." The priestess  bowed  her

head. "I am simply saying what I have heard."

"And my thanks for that. It is a diverting tale."  Nom  Anor  glanced  at

Kunra, who seemed immoderately fascinated  by  the  conversation.  The  Shamed

warrior's critical faculties either had not kicked in, or lacked the  capacity

to separate likely falsehood from an unlikely truth.

"Look into the matter more closely when you return to  Shimrra's  court,"

he allowed her. "I'm always happy to be proven right. And if  I'm  wrong-well,

perhaps there is something in it we can use."

"Yes, Master." She bowed again. "I will return in two days to present  my

evidence against Prefect Zareb."

"Excellent." Nom Anor experienced another pleasing rush at the thought of

another old rival destroyed, the  third  in  a  row.  "This  plan  is  working

perfectly well. As far as I am concerned, we are following the  ideal  course.

And any who disagree with me can join Commander Val in the yargh'un pit."

"That can easily be arranged," Kunra  said,  "with  Ngaaluh's  help.  Any

rumbling in the ranks will soon be quelled."

"As my master wills it." The priestess bowed her head a third  time,  and

begged permission to leave. She was tired and required time to prepare for the

days ahead.

Nom Anor permitted her to go, explaining that his concern over Shoon-mi's

betrayal had evaporated. What did he have to fear with contingencies  such  as

this in place?

Pleased, she bade him a good rest himself, and left.

When Ngaaluh had gone, Nom Anor turned to Kunra.

"Well?" was all he asked.

"I believe her," the ex-warrior said. "She is not the one who covets your

throne."

A knot eased in him, but he did not allow himself to relax. "Ngaaluh is a

master of deception. You could not tell that she was lying simply  by  looking

at her. Her prattle about this mysterious Commander Val could be nothing  more

than a distraction, to draw attention away from herself."

Kunra shrugged. "That's possible," he said. "I am not as skilled  as  you

in exposing lies."

Nom Anor narrowed his gaze. Was that sarcasm he heard in  Kunra's  voice?

Perhaps they were in league together, he  thought:  the  two  closest  to  the

Prophet plotting to unseat him and presenting a united front when the  attempt

failed.

Certainly Ngaaluh seemed keen to attack Shimrra - and  she  had  received

the mysterious courier that day....

"She remains useful," he said, coming to a similar conclusion about Kunra

even as he spoke the words. "While she remains so, I can live with  my  doubt.

And I can take precautions. It takes more than a coufee in the  dark  to  kill

me, now more than ever."

"That is eminently so."

Nom Anor ignored the smugness in Kunra's tone, just as he had ignored the

sarcasm. "And our work continues. When is my first congregation here due?"

"Whenever you feel up to it."

"Why wouldn't I be up to it? Tell - " He hesitated,  then  quickly  chose

Shoon-mi's replacement. "Tell Chreev he's now the chief acolyte. He will  make

arrangements immediately in the morning. I see no reason  to  pause  and  give

people reason to worry."

The former warrior smiled. "I agree. Now would be the wrong time to  lose

momentum."

That's enough, Nom Anor thought. Saving  my  life  doesn't  automatically

give you a premium on my ear.

Nom Anor pointed at the door, but bit his tongue on harsh words. The time

would come to teach his strong arm a lesson in humility. "Go.  You  have  done

enough for one day."

Kunra bowed with barely sufficient reverence, and left.

The ride down was bumpy. Jag's hands itched to take control of  the  ship

and smooth out their descent, but he couldn't. Although both sides  knew  that

Collaborator was a ruse, it was important that the  pretense  was  maintained.

The rechristened picket ship would, therefore, spiral unpowered  down  to  the

upper atmosphere, at which point atmospheric drag would  begin  to  decelerate

it. Only when they were safely out of sight  would  Tahiri  bring  the  barely

skyworthy craft to an inelegant landing.  It  certainly  wasn't  the  way  Jag

preferred to fly, but it was important he didn't interfere.

That everything went without a hitch didn't surprise him,  however.  With

the hopes of both sides riding on the mission, fighting had  enjoyed  a  tense

lull  since  the  mission's  launch.  Only  the  occasional  skirmish   marred

Esfandia's dark skies.

Something rattled violently from behind him. "Are you  sure  everything's

securely stowed back there?" he called out to Arth Gxin, the Imperial sergeant

who had volunteered for the mission.

"Positive," the sleek, black-haired man responded. Gxin looked more  like

an aristocrat than a dirt flier, but Pellaeon had assured Jag that he was  the

best atmospheric pilot he had. "Something's probably just worked loose in  the

wreckage, that's all."

Jag nodded, satisfied by the explanation. It wasn't as  if  any  of  them

could get up to look, anyway. They were firmly strapped in, and  would  remain

that way until their flight path had leveled out.

They were a diverse group, and among them  they  represented  just  about

everyone who had a stake in the outcome of the battle. Jag  and  Jocell  stood

for the Chiss; Gxin came from  the  Empire,  as  did  the  six  military-issue

speeder bikes they'd brought with them on the mission; the  Galactic  Alliance

was represented by Jaina and En-ton Adelmaa'j; and Tahiri carried the  Yuuzhan

Vong inside her now. They were a motley crew, it was true,  but  together  Jag

was sure they'd be able to teach the Yuuzhan Vong ground forces a thing or two

about atmospheric combat.

His idle reveries were interrupted when something  seemed  to  hit  them,

spinning the ship into a tumble. He looked over to Tahiri,  who  was  studying

the  meager  range  of  instruments  before  her  with  a   look   of   fierce

concentration.

"Almost there," she whispered. Her knuckles were white  as  they  gripped

the armrests of her crash couch. "Got it!"

Her hands came up to the controls, and Jag took that as his cue  to  join

in.  Together  they  wrestled  the  decidedly  unstreamlined  shape   of   the

Collaborator  under  some  semblance  of  control.  Their   altitude   dropped

alarmingly through the dense layers of Esfandia's atmosphere, and he  imagined

he could feel the air around them heating  up.  The  coordinates  marking  the

location of the relay base-as given to Jaina by her mother-vanished around the

bulge of the planet, followed a second later by the rendezvous point. They had

one more turn around the world before they had to put down.

Put down was, of course, a euphemism. The plan  was  to  ditch  the  ship

entirely, in order to confuse pursuit. Collaborator's reentry path would stand

out like a fire breather on an ice floe, and he had no doubts that the Yuuzhan

Vong ground crew would immediately converge on its terminus. If all they found

was a burning wreckage, then all the better.

Glad that the locals had been warned to  keep  well  out  of  their  way,

Tahiri applied some final adjustments to  Collaborator's  trim  and  announced

that he was happy with the vector. Jaina undipped her safety harness  and  she

stood cautiously, fighting the constant bucking of the floor beneath her.

"All right, let's get those speeders warmed up."

The six of them headed back to where the  vehicles  rested  in  makeshift

harnesses. Jag donned his armored enviro-suit's helmet and enabled  his  maser

communications systems. He  could  communicate  with  anyone  via  the  suit's

speakers  and  mikes,  if  they   were   close   enough;   for   long-distance

communication, while comm silence was  being  maintained,  a  microwave  laser

network could keep everyone in line of sight in touch.

"Testing, testing."

"Loud and clear, Colonel Fel." Sergeant Gxin was already in  the  saddle,

flicking switches. His enviro-suit was as black and shiny as  his  hair.  "All

systems green."

"Green for go," Jocell echoed, two speeders along.

Jag took the speeder between them and punched its  repulsor  engine  into

life. The air was rapidly filling with the high-pitched  whining  of  machines

eager for freedom. One by one, they all confirmed their status.

"Charges armed," Jaina said. "We are go in three, two, one."

Jag felt the explosion through his suit. It was  immediately  overwhelmed

by the shock of the hull breaking

apart. In no time at all the alien hulk had cracked open  completely,  as

per the plan. They were sucked out, one by one, into a swirling hurricane. Jag

fought the turbulence, feeling his speeder kick in as he approached  the  hard

ground below. He didn't have time to note the locations of the others, but the

maser system kept tabs on all of them, displaying their locations as red  dots

on his helmet's display.

A thundering boom  signaled  Collaborator's  ungentle  crash  landing  on

Esfandia, a safe distance away.

"Everyone okay?" Jaina's voice came clear  and  clipped  over  the  maser

intercom. The dots converged on hers as everyone confirmed that they'd  exited

the ship safely.

"We're a little off target," she said, taking the center  position  of  a

triangular aerial formation. Jag, from the rear starboard point, could see her

checking map  data  and  triangulating  on  navigation  signals  broadcast  by

Imperial ships  high  above.  "Our  heading  is  thirty  degrees  south,  five

kilometers. Sergeant Gxin, you lead the way."

The  Imperial  gunned  his  speeder  bike  in  that  direction,   quickly

accelerating to maximum velocity. The rest followed close behind. Jag  checked

his weapons  as  he  flew,  single-handedly  steering  his  speeder  over  the

undulating, rubble-strewn plains. As well as the fixed cannon on  his  speeder

bike, he had a heavy blaster pistol holstered at his side, a belt  of  thermal

detonators, and his charric slung across his back. Webbing held four 4HX4 land

mines securely on either side of his saddle. Only when he felt sure that their

rough landing hadn't damaged his mini arsenal did he take the time to actually

look around.

As viewed through the light enhancers built  into  his  helmet,  the  sky

appeared burnt orange and muted. Heavy wind pulled at him, but it  wasn't  the

usual sort of air  he  would  find  on  a  planet  of  this  size;  Esfandia's

atmosnhere. primarily methane and hydrogen. was normally associated  with  gas

giants. Although Jag couldn't actually feel the cold, he was acutely aware  of

its presence just millimeters from his skin. If his enviro-suit were to  fail,

his blood would freeze in seconds. All in all, it wasn't the  most  hospitable

environment he'd ever visited.

Gxin led them dodging and weaving through a  forest  of  slender  columns

that resembled the trunks of petrified trees. What they were actually made of,

though, Jag couldn't tell-nor did he have the time or the inclination to  stop

and find out. As far as he was concerned, the sooner he was off the planet the

better.

A thin spire rose out  of  the  gloom  ahead.  Twenty  meters  tall,  its

tapering, geometric lines distinguished it from the "tree trunks" in the area.

This, Jag knew, was the  transponder  rendezvous  point.  They  approached  it

cautiously, Gxin decelerating as they  came  around  the  transponder's  wire-

framed, expanding skirt. Jag kept his  eyes  peeled,  conscious  of  the  many

hiding places in and around the main structure. Jaina had said something about

a traitor among the expedition; if that person had managed  to  overpower  Han

and the others, he could well be waiting for them now, intending to pick  them

off one by one as they arrived.

A snarl of speeder engines from Jag's right brought him around in a tight

turn. The triangular formation dissolved to present as dispersed a  target  as

possible. Jag kept one finger on the trigger while ducking to  target  whoever

was approaching out of the murk.

A buzz of static sounded in his earpieces as his comm located and  locked

on to a signal.

"-else could it be using these frequencies? You worry too much, Droma."

"That's what has kept me alive this long."

"And there I was thinking it was because of your good looks and charms."

"Dad?" Jaina's voice cut across the chatter. "Your signal  is  coming  in

loud and clear."

"As it should be. - We're right on top of you." Five more  speeder  bikes

appeared out of the gloom. The size of the riders varied greatly. "Welcome  to

Esfandia," her father said, pulling his speeder bike up  to  a  halt  next  to

Jaina's. "Glad you could make it, sweetheart."

"Likewise," Jaina replied. The relief at finding her father all right was

obvious in her voice.

"What do you think of Esfandia so far?" he asked.

"Not the kind of place I'd spend a holiday."

"I wouldn't say that too loudly," Droma put in.  "You  might  offend  the

locals."

As the wake of the speeder bikes settled, shadowy circular shapes drifted

in from the gloom. Jag was startled until he realized that this was what Droma

had meant by "the locals." The indigenous life-forms  of  Esfandia  seemed  to

float like kites in the thick  atmosphere;  every  now  and  again  one  would

collapse in upon itself, as though clenching like a fist,  and  then  suddenly

shoot forward. He assumed they were sucking in the thick air and then blasting

it out a rear vent in order to propel themselves along.  It  wasn't  the  most

graceful means of propulsion he'd seen, but it seemed effective nonetheless.

"Don't they know it's dangerous being around us?" Jaina asked.

"We've tried telling them  that,"  Droma  said.  "But  they  followed  us

anyway. They can put on quite a turn of speed when they want to."

"The Cold Ones may be curious," Han added, "but they're not stupid.  Mark

my words, they'll get out of the way when things really heat up."

"How close are we to being ready?" Jaina asked.

Han introduced the communications tech they'd brought along to  reprogram

the massive transponder. He explained that it would take the man about half an

hour to bypass  the  automated  systems  and  give  the  transmitter  its  new

instructions.

Jaina  nodded.  "Get  started  immediately,  then.  We'll   prepare   the

perimeter."

She dismounted her speeder bike to dole out the mines with  the  help  of

Adelmaa'j, her father and Droma, and a Klatooinian  security  guard  from  the

relay base. Jag unloaded his mines, then swept the area with  Jocell  to  make

sure it was clear. This proved more difficult than he'd  first  thought.  What

with the dim light, the dense atmosphere, and  the  irregular  terrain,  there

were a thousand ways they could miss someone sneaking up  on  them.  The  only

good thing was that sound carried a long way here, allowing them a  good  lead

time before an airborne strike arrived. But even that could work against them:

the sound of their engines would be audible for a much wider range, increasing

the chances that one of the Yuuzhan Vong ground teams would find  them  before

they were ready.

Only  once  did  the  sensors  on  his  suit  detect  anything   remotely

threatening. A hissing rumble, like a blast of white noise  from  a  long  way

away, rose out of the background static. It didn't sound like a tsik vai,  the

Yuuzhan Vong equivalent of an airspeeder, but Jag called an alert just  to  be

on the safe side. As his repulsor engines wound down,  the  approaching  sound

seemed almost deafening against the background moan of the wind. It doubled in

volume before peaking, then slowly trailed away.

"Yorik-trema," Tahiri said. "One of the landing craft. This is a  hostile

environment, so its hold will be full of  tsik  seru  rather  than  the  usual

ground troops." "And they are?" Jag asked.

"Tsik vais equipped with plasma blasters, designed to move fast and  make

nuisances of themselves." "Any other weapons?"

"Netting beetles, razorbugs, needle thorns-anything the pilots can carry.

"

"Great. Thanks for the tip."

Jaina's voice was taut as she made a stab at reassurance. "It's gone past

us, and that's all that matters. We should be safe now."

Ten minutes later, the comm  tech  announced  that  the  transponder  was

ready. Tahiri gave him the message, the last  piece  of  the  puzzle.  It  was

shorter than Jag had expected, and utterly incomprehensible. The subtleties of

the Yuuzhan Vong language, which sounded to his ears like nothing more than  a

series of guttural grunts and painful throat clearings, eluded him completely.

He had to take on faith that it said what Jaina intended.

"One more mine to place," Han said, the sound of digging coming over  the

comm. There was a grunt, followed by, "Well done, Droma.  You've  just  earned

your passage on the Falcon."

"Passage nothing. Give me a good lawyer and I'll sue you for damages."

"Back on the speeders, people. This  thing's  set  to  go  off  in  three

standard minutes, once I give the word. You know what you have to do."

Jag circled the transponder for one final check, and made sure everyone's

navigation systems were updated with the location of the mines. He didn't want

anyone stumbling into one by mistake.

"We need to hurry. Vorrik won't wait forever," Tahiri said.  "The  longer

my message takes, the more frustrated he will become."

"Then let's get under way. Start the timer ticking... now."

The  eleven  speeder  bikes  accelerated  away  from   the   transponder,

scattering the Cold Ones in their wake. Jag had no qualms about that.  Scaring

the natives was the best thing to do given the circumstances. In a very  short

time, the area around the transponder was going  to  become  very  unsafe  for

everyone.

Sergeant Gxin led the retreat to safer  ground.  He'd  scouted  the  area

during the preparations and found two ideal locations for speeders to hide  in

waiting. One was an overhang hollowed out by winds. Jaina left Jag, her father

and Droma, Jocell, and the comm tech there while she  took  the  rest  to  the

second location, a kilometer away.

When the sound of their engines faded, there was less than thirty seconds

to go. Jag used the time to load his charric, fastening it to  the  saddle  by

his right thigh so that it was easily accessible should he need it.

Barely had he finished doing this when the giant transponder awoke with a

blast of static to relay Tahiri's message to all the Yuuzhan Vong  hanging  in

wait above Esfandia.

Pellaeon glanced up from the charts before him as an alarm sounded on the

bridge of Right to Rule.

"Report."

"Audio signal from the ground, sir."

"Let's hear it."

The voice of the young  female  Jedi  filled  the  bridge,  spitting  and

snarling in the Yuuzhan Vong language. The electromagnetic radiation  carrying

the message radiated from a point on Esfandia's surface and out into space. No

one with ears could miss it for millions of kilometers - which was  the  idea,

of course. Pellaeon had no idea what the message contained. He  had  to  trust

Jaina Solo's assertion that Tahiri was saying what she was supposed to. If she

did, then the effect would be instantaneous.

Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Every sensor at Right to Rule's disposal  was

focused on the source of the signal. It was hard to see anything  through  the

thick smog Esfandia called an atmosphere. Through a confusion of  random  heat

impressions and radar images, he tried to detect any sort of coherent reading.

Was that a speeder bike wake? Did a Yuuzhan Vong  lander  cast  that  sort  of

shadow?

When it came, there was no mistaking it.

Bright orange heat blossomed on the infrared scan. It flowered  to  white

intensity, then faded to a red background.

"We have a detonation," his aide called.

"I'm picking up flashes," a telemetry officer said. "High-energy  weapons

fire."

"Where?"

"Multiple sources, all around the target."

Pellaeon's aide looked up at him. "It's started, sir."

"This isn't right," the Magister said.

"Quiet!" Senshi pushed the lightning rod harder  into  Jabitha's  temple,

provoking a wince of discomfort. "I want to hear what the Jedi have to say."

Jacen took a deep breath. He could sense everything focused on  him:  the

Ferroans surrounding them, the boras whipping angrily overhead, Saba  watching

tense and puzzled beside him, Senshi, the Magister-perhaps even Sekot  itself.

What he did next would be critical.

His options were limited. He and Saba could easily use the Force to  take

out the Ferroan kidnappers, but that would leave Danni and Jabitha at Senshi's

mercy. He could  knock  Senshi's  weapon  aside,  removing  Jabitha  from  the

immediate threat, but could he be quick enough to stop the other Ferroans from

firing their weapons? Using his lightsaber was a possibility, but the question

was, what would he do with it? How would that help Danni? No, there had to  be

a solution that didn't involve aggression...

The sharp-tipped end of a boras tentacle thudded heavily  into  the  dirt

beside him, then snapped back up into the air ready for another  strike.  That

was all the incentive he  needed.  As  Saba  staggered  back,  flailing  at  a

tentacle that had lashed down at  her,  Jacen  straightened  his  posture  and

closed his eyes. Ignoring the rain on his face, shutting out  the  booming  of

thunder from the sky and the strange cries of the boras, he  extended  himself

into the warmth of the Force, and went searching...

Up...

Past the Ferroans.

Higher...

Between the cracking tentacles and  into  the  branches,  where  drenched

birds and other animals huddled for shelter.

Higher still...

To the tops of the trees, where static electricity sizzled from the storm

and wind whipped leaves in furious waves.

What he was looking for wasn't there, though. He was thinking too much in

human terms. He chided himself for taking anything for granted on a world like

this and sent himself hurtling down the side of  the  nearest  boras  -  along

thickening branches as the trunk opened up to embrace the soil, and then  into

it, into darkness where strange small minds lurked, living among  the  knotted

roots and dining on the remains of the surface world.

And it was there that he found what he was looking for: a knot of intense

anger that was the heart of the malignant stand of boras. It  wanted  to  kill

those who had invaded its most sacred place; it  wanted  to  crush  them  into

fertilizer, grind their bones into  the  dirt,  and  seed  their  graves  with

scavengers to erase every last memory of their presence.

As tentacles rained down on the seeding ground, Jacen's  mind  slid  into

the convoluted spaces of the outraged plant.

Violated! the primitive mind shrieked. Protect!

We're not harming you, Jacen assured. We'll be gone soon.

Even as he said it, though, he could sense that  advanced  concepts  like

future benefits would be beyond the creature's simple understanding.

Bones make us strong!

You are strong enough, Jacen told it, trying to ease  the  anger  of  the

plant-mind with suggestive thoughts.

Stronger!

Jacen plunged deeper into the boras's mind and found  a  furious  tangle.

Pressure mounted around the tangle, forging a buildup of primitive frustration

and rage. He tugged gently at it.

Isolation leads to stagnation, he whispered.

He teased the inflamed threads in new directions.

Stagnation leads to corruption.

The tangle slipped apart under his mental touch,  prompting  a  surge  of

pent-up energies in all directions.

Corruption leads to death.

The mind of the boras exploded in a shower of bright  sparks.  Somewhere,

seemingly far away, Saba Sebatyne roared.

Jacen's eyes  snapped  open.  Saba  was  standing  over  him  and  Danni,

shielding them with her lightsaber. Above and around them was a  tightly  knit

cage of angry boras tentacles, poised ready to attack.

Then, with a smooth, hissing  sound,  the  tentacles  retracted,  sliding

smoothly back up into the canopy, their pointed tips curling in on  themselves

so that they were no longer a threat. The mind of the boras had retreated into

itself, to lick its wounds and examine its sudden relief.

But Saba wasn't about to lower her lightsaber; the hunter in  her  simply

wouldn't allow it. The look in her slitted eyes suggested she wasn't about  to

be lulled into a false sense of security.

"It's okay, Saba," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. He  felt  her

ropy, reptilian muscles relax under her thick skin. "It's over."

"And yet," said a voice from behind him, "in a very real sense, it's only

just beginning."

Jacen turned, unable to credit his ears. The sight before him caused  his

heart to race and his mind to reel.

"But you're...dead!"

Vergere didn't reply. She just stood in front of Jacen,  smiling  faintly

as though waiting for him to understand.

Jaina tensed as the yorik-trema rose around her. The electronic hollering

of Tahiri's message was loud in her ears, blasting out of the  transponder  at

close range. Her address to the commander was brief, its  message  simple  and

brutal.

"The cowering infidels await your vengeance, Great Commander. I give them

to you as tribute. Crush them beneath  your  heel  as  you  would  a  diseased

dweebit!"

The yorik-trema was so close that Jaina was amazed she  couldn't  see  it

through her enviro-suit visor. The sound of it made her teeth vibrate.

Then there was a bright flash and a sound  like  a  peal  of  thunder.  A

powerful shock wave rolled over her and the others where they'd taken  shelter

in a small cave tunneling through a rocky spar. The yorik-trema, or one of its

tsik seru fliers, must have run into a mine protecting the  periphery  of  the

transponder. The detonation acted as a signal to her  speeder  bikes.  With  a

snarl of engines, they burst out of their  hiding  place  and  split  up  into

groups of two, weapons armed and ready.

Jaina paired herself with Eniknar, the skinny Noghri her mother suspected

was a traitor. He flew confidently and economically into battle, crouched  low

over his saddle to her  right.  The  Klatooinian  security  guard  and  En-ton

Adelmaa'j peeled off to approach the Yuuzhan Vong from the far side. Gxin  and

Tahiri sped off together. Jaina expected them to  separate  before  long,  but

didn't mind. Together or apart, they would be  capable  of  a  great  deal  of

damage.

Infrared blossomed ahead of her. She hunkered down and armed her  blaster

cannon when something large and dark loomed out of the smog. She raked it with

fire before swooping up and over it and coming around for a closer look.

The yorik-trema had caught the mine  on  its  underbelly,  crippling  it.

Bodies spilled from a wide  crack  in  its  fuselage.  Reptoid  ground  troops

swarmed from a rear hatch, too confused to return her fire. She sent  a  dozen

rounds into the breach and was gratified when something exploded with a  solid

crump from within.

"Fliers approaching," crackled Eniknar's voice over the maser comm.

Jaina took a second to check her tactical display. There were no blips on

the display, so clearly the fliers weren't friendly.  She  took  another  pass

around the downed yorik-trema and joined the security  chief  in  meeting  the

fliers head-on. A formation of seven tsik seru peeled  apart  in  disarray  as

blasterfire cut hot lines between them. Jaina braked back  in  a  tight  turn,

then came around again to play havoc  with  their  rear  vents.  Any  hope  of

maintaining order to the fight dissolved at that point. With  visibility  low,

her sensors  restricted  to  nonemitting  radiation,  and  dozens  of  targets

appearing and disappearing all around  her,  the  skirmish  dissolved  into  a

furious free-for-all. Her blaster pounded beneath her,  knocking  chunks  from

alien coral and tearing reptoid troops limb from limb. Eniknar was nowhere  in

sight, but she didn't have time to dwell upon that.

"Watch your rear, Jaina." Jag's voice came out of the  fierce  clamor  of

battle, startlingly clear over the comm. She looked over her shoulder and  saw

two tsik seru jockeying for attack position. She crouched low over her  saddle

to present a smaller target and led the two alien fliers on a  harried  chase.

She dodged plasma fire and a rain of netting  beetles  while  swinging  wildly

around the treelike ground features. Her face was locked in a  grim  smile  as

she rounded a steep rock shelf and gunned her speeder in a  tight  port  turn,

too fast for the fliers behind her to see or imitate. By the  time  they  came

wide around the same corner, she  was  pushing  her  speeder  to  its  maximum

acceleration in order to get as far away from the area as quickly as possible.

The explosion as the two fliers hit the mine picked her up and threw  her

forward on a blast of hot air. The world exploded with stars  as  her  speeder

clipped a rock formation and sent her flying.

Tahiri felt the growling power of the machine beneath  her  as  it  swept

through the air toward the Yuuzhan Vong warriors. The Yuuzhan Vong part of her

instinctively mistrusted something that wasn't alive,  and  the  Jedi  in  her

could sympathize somewhat, too. The living Force  that  flowed  through  every

biological thing was more potent and persuasive than any machine.

Sergeant Gxin shadowed her to  where  the  yorik-trema  had  spilled  its

contents onto the deep cold soil of Esfandia, then peeled away to seek  other,

less obvious targets. Jaina had beaten them there and  was  already  peppering

the downed craft's dying hull  with  fire.  Tahiri  didn't  see  the  need  to

duplicate her efforts, so instead followed Gxin's example and went  in  search

of more worthy prey. There was at least one other yorik-trema out  there,  and

an unknown number of tsik seru, all converging on the  signal  she'd  sent  to

Commander Vorrik...

Barely had she finished thinking this when three tsik seru swooped at her

out of the gloom,  disrupting  her  thoughts.  Her  new,  joined  self  fought

smoothly, instinctively. There was not the slightest awkwardness or hesitation

in her actions. The Yuuzhan Vong part of her

meshed with the Jedi Knight to create something truly  deadly,  something

neither side had seen before-and she used that advantage to the fullest.

Plasma fire couldn't be deflected by a lightsaber, but the  nozzles  that

spewed it forth-deep pits just above and  forward  of  the  tsik  seru  intake

vents-could be closed by the Force. She applied a Force-push  at  exactly  the

right moment, tweaking the alien sphincter muscles just as  they  clenched  to

fire, causing the plasma cannon to jam. The resulting explosion-a messy  burst

that tore a huge hole in the tsik seru's triangular flank-sent it spinning out

of control into a cliff face. The Yuuzhan  Vong  pilot  was  thrown  free  and

landed with a bone-snapping crunch.

Satisfied with the result, Tahiri repeated the tactic  on  the  remaining

two fliers while dodging their attempts to cut her down. As the third  tumbled

like a broken-winged bird into the ground, a speeder bike  buzzed  across  her

path, wobbling precariously. Through the enviro-suit  helmet,  she  recognized

Droma.

"Having trouble?" she asked.

"Took a hit to a steering vane," the Ryn replied.

"Will you be okay?"

"As long as no one gets in my way."

A sharp twinge through the Force distracted her. She cast her  mind  out,

seeking the source of  the  troubling  sensation.  Within  a  moment  she  had

isolated it.

"Jaina's down," she said.

"Whereabouts?" Droma asked, tugging at  the  resisting  controls  of  his

speeder to bring it around.

She didn't wait to answer him. She just headed off in the  direction  she

felt Jaina to be.

"The coralskipper," Tekli said, "it's changing!"

"I don't understand," Mara said. "Changing how?"

"It's changing shape, and its gravitic emissions are

adopting a different profile." The voice of the Chadra-Fan was unable  to

hide her exasperation with what she was seeing. "It's much faster-and turning!

"

"It's coming back at us," came the calmer voice of Captain Yage over  the

comlink. "Whatever it is, we're ready for it."

"You're so not ready," came a voice off to  Luke's  right,  "it's  almost

funny."

Luke turned at the new voice and found himself staring  at  a  young  boy

standing in the entrance to the habitat's upper floor.  He  was  about  twelve

years of age with blue eyes. His face was round under sandy, short  hair,  and

his expression was one of amusement.

"What is the meaning of this?" Rowel asked, scowling. "Who are you?"

The Ferroan glanced accusingly at Luke, as if  the  boy's  presence  were

somehow his doing. Which only went to show, Luke thought, just how little  the

Ferroans really knew about the planet they lived on.

He closed the distance between himself and the  boy  with  a  handful  of

cautious steps. The blue  orbs  of  the  boy  stared  back  at  him,  full  of

confidence and power. They stripped every other concern  from  him,  made  him

feel like he was falling. The mind behind those eyes shimmered in  the  Force,

bright and potent as Jabitha's had been when she had met them on  the  landing

field.

There was only one person it could be behind  those  eyes-and  it  wasn't

really a person at all.

"Is that-?" Mara started, but  was  clearly  unsure  how  to  finish  the

sentence.

Luke crouched down before the boy, staring in wonderment at  the  ghostly

image of Anakin Skywalker. "My father?" he finished  for  her.  He  shook  his

head. "No, it's not. It's Sekot."

The boy smiled broadly now, his eyes shining in a manner  that  suggested

pride. "You are wise, Luke Sky-

walker," he said. "Your father would have been proud of the man you  have

become."

"Sekot?" This came from Rowel behind Luke. He emitted  a  choking  noise,

embarrassed by his initial  response  to  the  boy's  presence.  "Forgive  me,

please."

Neither Luke nor the image of the boy broke their stare  to  address  the

Ferroan. His awkwardness seemed irrelevant. Everything seemed irrelevant.

"Why have you taken this form?" Luke asked.

The boy shrugged, the amusement behind his eyes  suddenly  undercut  with

sadness. "Everyone with power faces a choice. It's a difficult choice, and the

choice is different for everyone. Only time reveals which choice is correct."

The boy's face assumed an expression of deep sympathy as he cupped Luke's

cheek gently in one small hand.

"This is how your father appeared to me many years ago," Sekot said.  "He

and I faced the same choice. We are both still waiting to find out whether  we

chose correctly."

Luke sensed Mara behind him radiating her love and sympathy out  to  him.

He was transfixed by the boy's blue eyes. The same color as mine, he  thought.

No, not just the same color; they were the same...

"That's what Darth Vader looked like?" Hegerty's  was  voice  thick  with

amazement.

"He was a boy once," Mara said softly.

"Master  Skywalker,"  came  Captain  Yage's  voice  over   the   comlink,

interrupting  the  surreal  reunion.  "The  unidentified   vessel   is   still

approaching Zonama Sekot, and is refusing to respond to our  hails.  We're  on

full alert and ready to intercept. You just have to give the order."

Luke stood, pulling himself away from the vision of his father to address

the captain of the Widowmaker. "Stand down, Arien," he said.  He  was  acutely

conscious

of everything around  him:  the  humid  air;  the  scent  ot  waterlogged

undergrowth; the breathless ring of Ferroans  waiting  to  see  what  happened

next. "That ship isn't about to attack us."

The image of his father moved to the center of the room. Luke faced  him,

feeling the pressure of the planet's attention upon him. He  shook  his  head,

wondering why be hadn't realized sooner what was going on.

"So, tell me," he said. "Have we performed to your satisfaction?"

Sekot looked at him with the wisdom of ages from the eyes of innocence. "

If I were to say that you hadn't, what would you do then?"

Luke shrugged. "That would depend on the choices I had available to me."

"You don't have any." The innocent  face  broke  into  a  smile.  "That's

what's so wizard about it."

"Then your question is meaningless," Luke said.

"Perhaps," Sekot said. "But the exercise wasn't.  Since  your  arrival  I

have learned more about why you are here than you probably  ever  intended  to

tell me. Maybe even more than you know yourself."

"Then you know we came in search of an answer."

"I do. But I have no easy answer to offer you."

"Any answer at this point would be appreciated," Mara said.

The image of the boy looked in silence at all of  those  standing  around

expectantly, then finally nodded. "Very well," he said, gesturing for them all

to be seated.

Luke did so gratefully. Ever since laying eyes upon the boy he  had  felt

the tug of emotions that he hadn't accessed in a long time-emotions that  were

leaving him weak at the knees, even though he knew it wasn't his father before

him.

When everyone was seated, Sekot began to speak. * * *

Jag ducked as a tsik seru skimmed narrowly over his head, the tug of  its

dovin basal lifting him slightly from his seat. He dropped the  power  on  his

speeder as a large stone formation loomed out  of  the  haze  ahead,  swinging

around to give chase to the Yuuzhan Vong that had just  buzzed  him,  only  to

find the tsik seru already coming back for another pass. Its pilot's face  was

all snarl and scars, partly obscured by a fleshy gnullith. Not obscured enough

as far as Jag was concerned, though. He strafed laserfire in the small craft's

path, making the Yuuzhan Vong pilot bank  sharply  as  he  fired  a  cloud  of

netting beetles in retaliation. The tsik seru had  almost  matched  speed  and

vector with Jag's flier when something caught the  pilot's  attention  and  he

swept away, disappearing into the murky atmosphere.

Left in the turbulent wake, Jag wondered what had torn the  Yuuzhan  Vong

from his prey. Something important must have come up.

Jag came around and set off after the flier. What his speeder  lacked  in

full-body coverage, it certainly made up for in velocity. He  caught  up  with

the tsik seru just as it crested a sharp rise and dipped down the far side. He

saw its plasma launchers flex in readiness, then suddenly explode in a ball of

green flame. With a pained shriek, the living craft curved  away  and  crashed

into one of the stony "stalagmites" that littered the planet's surface. With a

loud whump, it exploded into a million red-hot fragments.

Only then did Jag realize what lay below.

Huddled against a boulder were three small, humanoid figures. They  stood

with their backs to the boulder, two of  them  firing  repeating  blasters  or

using lightsabers to keep two more tsik seru and a swarm of reptoids  at  bay.

The third slumped against the stone  and  appeared  to  be  having  difficulty

remaining upright.

Jag stitched a line of fire across the contracting  line  of  alien  foot

soldiers. At least a dozen went down screaming.

"Jag, back here!"

The comm message was from Tahiri. She was warding off four reptoids,  two

of them armed with coufees. The other two were  throwing  thud  bugs  whenever

they saw an opening. Jag swept in low across the fight and dropped  a  thermal

mine in the middle of the reptoids, shooting at the two with  coufees  on  his

way out.

When the thermal mine went off, bits of reptoids were sent  flying  every

which way. Something thumped against the side of his helmet, and he ducked  in

case more pieces were following. Guiding  his  bucking  speeder  around  in  a

circle, he came back to check on Tahiri and the others.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Jaina took a fall,"  Tahiri  explained,  getting  up  from  where  she'd

dropped. She lent Jaina a hand as she climbed to her feet.

Jag brought his speeder to a halt and jumped off to see if he could help.

When Jaina spoke, her voice was thick and groggy. She was  blinking  her  eyes

too rapidly, as though trying to focus.

"My feet are cold."

"Her suit is failing," Tahiri said. "We have to get her out of here."

Jag tried to get her attention. "Jaina? Can you hear me?"

"Jag?" Her gaze caught him and held on. She nodded in a delayed  response

to his question. "I'll be all right. Just give me a second."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings," Droma said, pointing over Jag's

shoulder, "but..."

Jag turned and saw the reptoids getting up and regrouping.

He went back to his speeder and collected his charric blaster.

"We don't have much time," he said. "Where's Jaina's speeder?"

"Over there," Tahiri said.

Jag looked and saw the tangled wreck.

"Okay, then, she can take mine and head back to the relay base," he said.

"It's the only shelter we've got down here. I'll hitch a lift with Droma."

"No, I'll take her," Droma said. "She shouldn't fly  alone.  And  besides

which, I know the way."

Reluctant though he was to lose another fighter, Jag nodded in agreement.

It made sense to have someone with her, to help her if she blacked out or  got

lost.

"Get going," he said. "We'll cover your backs."

Droma helped Jaina to Jag's  speeder.  She  protested  vaguely,  but  was

unable to put up much of a fight. When she  was  safely  on  the  saddle,  the

nimble Ryn climbed up in front of her and activated the engine.

"Keep an eye on Eniknar," he said.

"We will," Tahiri said.

With a brisk wave, Droma sped off into the gloom.

"So where are our speeders?" Jag said, firing his blaster at  a  knot  of

reptoids who looked about ready to charge.

Tahiri pointed at a crater behind the line of reptoids. "A tsik seru took

them out before I could take it out. We tried calling for help, but  our  line

of sight is shot down here. We were lucky you came along."

He felt strangely like laughing, but  doubted  the  approaching  line  of

snarling reptoids would see the joke. "You're back where you started!"

"Not at all." Tahiri's grin was fleeting and joyful. "Now Jaina's safe, I

don't have to watch my back." She tensed. "Try and  keep  up,  Colonel.  We're

getting out of here."

With a powerful, Force-augmented spring, she  somersaulted  up  onto  the

boulder they'd been sheltering in front of and  began  blasting  the  reptoids

from above.

* * *

Leia paced nervously across the Falcon's  passenger  bay,  wishing  there

were something she could do. She'd felt the shock  of  Jaina's  sudden  plunge

into unconsciousness, and had endured an anxious ten minutes  until  she  felt

her daughter recover. The relief had been enormous, but did little to  assuage

the underlying frustration. Somewhere out there a desperate  fight  was  going

on, and she was too far away to be of any use.

A bleeping from the  cockpit  came  as  a  thankful  distraction  to  her

thoughts. She ran to find out what the instruments were reporting,  and  found

new telemetry scrolling down the screens, courtesy of  Pellaeon.  The  surface

scans showed furious activity around the transponder site. At least five mines

had blown, turning the normally frigid  cloud  patterns  into  relatively  hot

hurricanes She only hoped the Cold Ones were keeping well away as instructed.

In orbit, things were beginning to change.  Responding  to  the  lack  of

rapid progress on the ground, Vorrik was moving ships into strike range for  a

bombing run Pellaeon had responded to the  threat  by  boosting  hi:  presence

along that orbit. Leia had witnessed enough muscle flexing in the past to know

that the situation was at flashpoint. Unless the  ground  troops  delivered-or

appeared to deliver, anyway-a decisive victory to the Yuuzhan Vong, things  in

orbit would soon get very ugly once again.

At least the relay base was safe, though. That was; small comfort in  the

middle of such chaos and confusion And she supposed she shouldn't complain too

much She'd been hiding only a matter of hours, whereas Ashpidar and  her  crew

had been evading the Yuuzhan Vong for days.

Thinking of the base commander, she clicked open the comm  to  Ashpidar's

office.

"Commander Ashpidar?"  she  said.  "If  you're  interested,  I  have  new

telemetry from Pellaeon." There was no response.

"Sekot!"

Jabitha's startled cry brought Jacen out of  his  stunned  daze.  He  was

gaping at the image of Vergere where she stood opposite Senshi, her diminutive

figure commanding everyone's attention. She was dressed in a brown  robe,  and

her large, almost hypnotic eyes were fixed on him. The fringe of feathers  and

whiskers around her face were, despite the rain, completely dry.

"You're not Vergere, are you?" After  so  long,  there  was  no  way  his

teacher could have returned from the dead-and he could tell from  the  image's

presence in the Force that this was something much more than just a projection

or an echo of someone who had once lived.

"I come to you in this guise as someone we have both  known,"  the  image

said. "Someone who was close to you, someone you found trustworthy."

"Sekot does this," Jabitha explained. "It appears as my father sometimes,

or as your grandfather. Sometimes it appears as  me,  and  that  is  the  most

disconcerting of all."

Jacen remembered something the real Vergere had told him.  She  had  been

present at the birth of the living  planet's  consciousness,  when  Sekot  had

assumed the personality of its dead Magister and communicated with her and the

Yuuzhan Vong. He had known about this all along and not realized...

"Why now?" Saba asked, her voice a growl of puzzlement. "Why not before?"

"It did before," Jacen said, "when we arrived. That wasn't  the  Magister

Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara spoke to. It was Sekot in Jabitha's form."

"That still does not tell uz why."

Jacen looked around: at Saba staring uncertainly back at  him,  at  Danni

still unconscious on the stretcher, at Senshi with his weapon pressed  against

Jabitha's head... The image of Vergere watched him closely, waiting for him to

answer the question for himself.

"You're testing us, aren't you?" he said.

Sekot shook its fringed head, smiling. "I'm testing you, Jacen Solo."

"And did I pass?"

Instead of answering  his  question,  Sekot  faced  Senshi.  The  elderly

Ferroan immediately removed  the  lightning  rod  from  Jabitha's  temple  and

climbed to his feet. The Magister sat  up,  rubbing  at  her  neck  where  the

kidnapper had been holding her. Sekot then glanced over the Danni on the other

stretcher, and the young scientist stirred with a soft moan. Jacen  went  over

to her, kneeling beside her in the mud.

"Danni?" He could barely contain his relief.

Danni opened her eyes slowly, blinking into the light rain falling across

her face. She propped herself up onto her elbows, looking  up  at  Jacen  with

confusion etched across her brow.

"Where am I?" Her eyes widened as she looked around. "The  last  thing  I

remember is the roof coming down-

"It's all right, Danni," Jacen reassured her. "You're safe now."

Her gaze fell upon the Ferroans standing  around  her,  some  with  their

weapons held loosely at their sides.

"This would be the Solo definition of 'safe,' I'm taking it?"

"You will not be harmed," Vergere said, stepping up alongside Jacen.

Danni's eyes widened in surprise even more at the sight of Vergere. "But-

I thought-"

"It's not Vergere," Jacen said.

"It iz Sekot." Saba finally extinguished her lightsaber.  Jacen  couldn't

tell if she'd decided that Sekot meant no harm, or that there was nothing  she

could do about it even if Sekot did.

Danni turned back to Jacen, shaking her head as though the  questions  it

carried were too heavy. "I don't understand."

"I think I'm beginning to," he  said.  "This  whole  thing  was  a  setup

designed to see how I react under threat. Do I fight or flee? Do I  defend  my

loved ones, or do I use them as shields?"

"Or do you attempt to take the middle ground,"  Sekot  said,  "and  allow

both sides to win?"

"I'm sorry," Jabitha said. "I knew Sekot was going to  test  you,  but  I

didn't know how. I  convinced  it  that  it  should,  rather  than  trust  you

implicitly. I had no idea that your lives were going to be put in any danger."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Jacen said, standing again  to  face

Vergere's image. "It was Sekot who kept Danni unconscious, and who used Senshi

to execute the kidnapping. Just as it used the boras here to threaten us."

"Actually, the boras were acting of their own will.  They  could  not  be

controlled-only provoked or soothed. You had to solve  that  problem  on  your

own. But the rest is true, yes. Does that fact make you angry?"

Vergere was the perfect form for Sekot to take, Jacen thought.  This  was

exactly the sort of mind-expanding trick she might have played on  him  during

his brief apprenticeship to her.

"No," he said. "I just want to know why."

"I had to  know  what  manner  of  warrior  I  was  dealing  with  before

responding to your request."

"I'm uncomfortable with the term warrior," he said. "A  Jedi  stands  for

peace, not war."

"You do not believe in fighting for peace, for freedom? " Sekot spoke  in

a way that made Jacen feel he was being mocked.

"I believe that there should be a  way  of  achieving  peace  other  than

fighting," he said.

"Have you found it, Jacen Solo?"

He looked down to the ground, reluctant  to  admit  his  failure  to  his

former teacher-even though he knew in himself that it wasn't really her. "No,"

he admitted quietly. "No, I haven't."

"But that doesn't stop you looking."

He lifted his gaze again to meet Sekot's. "As the real Vergere once  told

me, I have chosen my destiny. Now I just have to deal with the consequences."

"As must we all," Sekot said. "As have  those  who  came  before  us.  We

inhabit the galaxy that arose as a result of  their  decisions,  just  as  our

descendants will inherit the galaxy that will arise from our own.  It  is  the

responsibility of every generation to choose well."

"And what is your decision, Sekot? What sort of galaxy will you leave for

future generations?"

Sekot smiled. "Let me tell you a little about myself, Jacen Solo."

"No word from the ground as yet, sir."

"What about those bombers?"

"Orbital insertion for surface run confirmed."

Pellaeon acknowledged the report with a nod. "Hit them hard."

His aide turned away to issue the orders.  Relentless  immediately  fired

its main engines and descended to a lower orbit. TIE fighters poured from  its

launching bays by the  hundreds.  Every  turbolaser  and  heavy  laser  cannon

targeted the bombers preparing to demolish the transponder on the  surface  of

Esfandia.

Pellaeon didn't doubt that  Vorrik  would  respond  immediately,  thereby

ensuring an escalation in the battle, but that was unavoidable.  As  pointless

as it was to defend a decoy, he had to make it look as though the  effort  was

worth defending, at least, and therefore confirm it as  a  legitimate  target.

With any luck, Vorrik would spend entirely too much effort trying to get  more

firepower on the ground while Pellaeon picked at the commander's  forces  from

above.

Fire flashed on all screens as  Imperial  fighters  engaged  the  Yuuzhan

Vong. As though that were the spark that lit the  fire,  conflagrations  broke

out within minutes in a dozen other locations. The massive warship  Kur-hashan

came about in a ripple of gravitic disturbances, every dovin basal on its hull

and in its engine housings wielding arcane energies in order to prepare it for

battle.

"All ships," Pellaeon ordered, "engage at will!"

The first truly conscious thought Jaina had was that  she  couldn't  feel

her left foot-and the sensation was slowly creeping up her  legs.  The  second

thought was that she was moving-and fast!

Opening her eyes, she realized with a start that she was actually flying.

"What-?" she called out, clutching the padded seat beneath her.

"Hang on, Jaina," said the figure sitting in front of her on the  cramped

speeder bike saddle. "Don't rock the boat."

"Droma?"

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Jaina looked around to see if there were  any  tsik  seru  nearby.  There

weren't. "Like an idiot. I was downed before the fight even started!"

"Don't beat yourself up about it. This kind of thing

can happen to the best of us, I'm afraid." The Ryn's  fluting  voice  was

full of sympathy and understanding. "I'm taking you back to the  Falcon.  Your

suit is leaking."

"I know. I can feel it."

He leaned the speeder over  as  he  skirted  a  copse  of  towering  rock

formations, and she leaned with him, trying to patch  together  the  scattered

memories of how she'd come to be here. She vaguely recalled Jag being with her

at some point, and Tahiri, but it was mostly a blur.

"Everything's going  according  to  plan,"  he  said,  straightening  the

vessel. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

Jaina peered over his shoulder, just in time to see  something  dark  and

spiky loom out of atmospheric haze, coming right for them.

"Duck! "she called.

She grabbed the shoulders of the spindly alien and pushed him flat across

the speeder. She scrunched down next to him,  praying  there  wasn't  anything

else directly in their  path.  A  loud,  rasping  hum  rose  up  around  them,

momentarily deafening her, and something fleetingly snatched at her back.

Then the encrusted belly of the yorik-trema they'd grazed was  past,  and

Droma attempted to bring the speeder back under control. It  wobbled  uneasily

for a few seconds, then steadied.

"Do you think they saw us?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder  as

the alien lander faded back into the haze.

"I'm not sure," the Ryn said.

"Either way, we can't afford to take the chance that they might follow us

back to the base," Jaina said. "Hang a right here."

Droma did as he was told. "You're thinking  we  should  loop  around  and

distract them, aren't you?" he said. "Or warn the others, right?"

"You have a problem with that?"

Droma's helmet moved back and forth as he shook his head. "No, but  I  do

have a problem with you getting frostbite."

"I'm not so keen on losing any toes, either-but  that's  a  chance  we're

going to have to take."

"It's too risky," Droma said. "Besides,  I  doubt  those  Vong  would  be

interested in us. We're the ones fleeing the fight scene, after all."

Jaina glanced back over her shoulder. "You might want to tell them  that,

then."

Droma snapped his head back for a split-second look; then  with  a  curse

that would have made her father blush,  he  returned  his  attention  forward.

Jaina felt the engine surge beneath them as he pushed the speeder  it  to  its

max in an effort to outrun the pair of tsik seru that had locked on  to  their

tail.

Jaina felt the pockets of her suit. Thankfully the cold  hadn't  affected

her fingers yet, but it was still hard to  feel  through  so  many  layers  of

insulation. She had her lightsaber,  a  repeating  blaster,  and  two  thermal

detonators. She quickly withdrew one of the latter and activated it.

"Take a turn when I tell you," she said, arming one of the detonators.

"Which way?" Droma called.

"Any way!" she said, lobbing the device into their wake. "Now!"

The detonator exploded with a flash of heat and  light,  almost  blinding

her through her visor's light-enhancing systems.  She  couldn't  tell  exactly

which heading Droma had chosen until her eyesight returned, then saw that he'd

slipped them into a narrow crevasse that dipped below the surface of the plain

they'd been traveling across.

"Did you get them?" Droma asked,  his  voice  thin  with  the  strain  of

following the crevasse's bends.

"One of them, I think," she said as a shadow fell across

them. One had survived, and it was now above them,  attempting  to  match

their speed.

A clutch of netting beetles ejected from  a  hatch  at  them,  and  Droma

braked heavily. They decelerated quickly enough to miss the  bugs  themselves,

but there was no chance of avoiding the sticky threads the creatures  left  in

their wake. Two attached themselves to Droma's back, and one fell  across  her

visor. On the ends of each fiber, grublike finger-length insects began to reel

themselves in.

Jaina tried to tug the threads from Droma's back while he  navigated  the

narrow crevasse, but the threads were strong and refused  to  break.  Reaching

into her side pocket, she produced her lightsaber and activated the blade.  If

she didn't get the threads off in time, those bugs would soon wrap  themselves

around the two of them and bind them up for easy capture.

The threads snapped under the bright fire of her lightsaber, and two bugs

dropped away from Droma's back. She followed the thread stuck to her visor and

found the bug that was its source barely a meter away from her head,  whipping

along behind her. She snatched her hand away and sliced the thread in two.

Three down, she thought, but there was no time  for  self-congratulations

just yet. She didn't know how many more there were. Her  visibility  at  close

quarters was poor through the visor, and her gloves weren't  sensitive  enough

to find them by touch. It would  take  just  one  to  foul  up  the  speeder's

steering vanes, or close Droma's fingers together at the wrong moment.

"We have to set down," she said. "It's the only way to  make  sure  we're

clean."

"But the flier-" Droma pointed up at the tsik seru  shadowing  them  high

above.

His argument stopped in midsentence, however, when he saw another of  the

netting beetles dangling from her hand, steadily wriggling its way  closer  to

his suit.

He quickly put them down in a sliding skid across a  surface  thick  with

carbon dioxide snow. Jaina tried hard not to think of what standing on such  a

material was going to do to her toes. There  were  more  important  things  to

worry about for the moment.

She jumped off the speeder, with Droma close behind, frantically brushing

himself down in a vain attempt to lose the  beetles.  When  Jaina  raised  her

lightsaber and approached him, he took a step back.

"Hey, wait a second! If that thing nicks my suit I'll-"

He shut up when she started to dart and weave  her  lightsaber,  removing

the bugs with easy, deft strokes. Then she turned the weapon on herself.

"On your thigh," Droma was saying. "And one on your shoulder!"

Something sizzled as she swung her lightsaber blindly behind her head.

"Okay, you're clear," he announced with relief. "Now let's-"

Before he could finish what he was saying, more threads fell around them.

The shadow of the tsik seru,  which  had  swung  briefly  out  of  sight,  had

returned, and a rain of bugs descended out of the flier's belly. Jaina  didn't

think; she just did what she had to do. Her blade seemed to sing in the  murky

air as she swung it with controlled, precise swipes that  prevented  a  single

one of the beetles from reaching her or Droma.

"Nicely done," Droma breathed in disbelief.  "But  I  fear  it's  only  a

temporary reprieve."

The tsik seru was backing up and tipping forward.

"It's going to fire at us," Jaina said, a/ready tensing to run.

"Do that thing!" Droma shouted, waving his hands. "That thing Tahiri did!

"

"What thing?"

"She closed the throats of the plasma launchers!"

"What?"

"I saw her do it when you were passed out. It works, believe me!"

Time seemed to slow as she worked her way though what he was telling her.

Plasma launchers... Tahiri... closing the throat...

Her body was one step ahead of her. At the very instant  she  realized-or

so it seemed-her hand was already heading upward to point at the  tsik  seru's

wings. The hand clenched into a fist just as it was about  to  fire,  belching

out its high-pressure plasma, full of potency and bile.

It hit the obstruction of her will and blew one  side  of  the  flier  to

smithereens. The second side detonated an instant later, showering  them  with

glowing debris. Gas hissed from the ultracold snow beneath  their  feet.  They

ducked instinctively, throwing their arms up for protection.  Peering  through

them, Jaina saw the remains of  the  tsik  seru  falling  into  the  crevasse,

tumbling in a spitting fireball right  toward  them.  She  grabbed  Droma  and

dragged him out of the way just in time. Steam exploded  around  them  as  its

fiery corpse finally came to rest.

Droma picked himself up, staring in amazement at the ruined  flier.  "Now

that," he said, "was too close!"

"Just be grateful it didn't come down on the speeder," she said,  tugging

the dead weight of the vehicle away from the flames. The growing  numbness  in

her left foot was making walking awkward.

"Believe me, I'm  grateful,"  Droma  said,  lending  her  a  hand.  "More

grateful than-"

A roar over their  suits'  external  receivers  cut  him  off.  Something

stumbled out of  the  flames  and  steam-something  humanoid,  blackened,  and

snarling. Jaina adopted a defensive stance as she grabbed her lightsaber,  but

her frozen foot betrayed her balance and she slipped over onto her side. Droma

tried to put himself between her and the crea-

ture, but was smacked away by a smoldering limb. The creature loomed over

him, its blackened face splitting where a mouth might have once been.

"Jeedai!"

The breath issued from the Yuuzhan Vong pilot in a furious rush. The only

thing keeping him alive in Esfandia's frigid air, Jaina realized, was the fire

itself. That wasn't going to last long-but  long  enough  for  one  chance  to

strike.

The pilot raised a viciously sharp splinter of yorik coral  and  prepared

to drive it down into her, where she lay sprawled at his feet. She reached for

her lightsaber again, but it wasn't there. She must have dropped it when she'd

fallen.

Before the blow could fall, something moved behind her,  well  away  from

where Droma lay slumped against the ravine wall. It caught the Yuuzhan  Vong's

attention, too, and his eyes momentarily flicked up to look. It  was  all  the

time Jaina needed. She struck upward with both feet, forcing the  pilot  back.

His yorik shard went flying, and Jaina was up  on  her  feet  in  an  instant,

reaching out with her mind for her lightsaber. It whipped out of the snow  and

back into her hand. With a vicious snap-hiss, it came to life.

The pilot regained his balance and stood, preparing  to  rush  her.  Fire

still licked at his back and legs, making him a truly monstrous figure.  Jaina

tensed, ready to cut him down.

But she didn't need to. The alien's stare froze as ice formed across  his

eyes. Pain and cold  couldn't  be  kept  at  bay  forever,  not  even  by  the

prodigious Yuuzhan Vong will. With  a  despairing  gurgle,  the  pilot  folded

forward into the snow, dead before he hit the ground.

Jaina stepped back, lowering her blade, her breath loud  in  her  helmet.

She should have reacted faster than that. Yes, she was still  recovering  from

her crash and the

cold had crept as far as her knees, now, but that was no  excuse.  If  it

hadn't been for-

She stopped in midthought, remembering what had saved her life. Something

had distracted the pilot  just  as  he'd  been  about  to  stab  her-and  that

something couldn't have been Droma, for he was only now struggling to his feet

in the snow by the flier. She turned around to look.

Hanging in the thick air before her, the edges of its circular,  kitelike

body rippling as though in an unseen current, was one of the natives.  It  was

so close she could have touched it, but she resisted the  impulse.  It  looked

quite fearsome, with its many-tentacled maw and strange organs pulsing through

translucent skin. Hundreds of tiny bumplike "eyes" around the maw seemed to be

watching her as closely as she studied it, wondering what it would do next.

In the end, it just wafted gently up into the cloudy atmosphere. When  it

was several meters away, its elongated tail flexed, and the creature shot over

her head with surprising acceleration.

A groan from Droma took her mind away from the strange encounter. He  was

leaning against the speeder, holding his head.

"I think we should get out of here," he said. She  nodded.  "My  turn  to

drive." Through his suit's visor, she could see a half smile forming below his

beaked nose. "Here's hoping we can get the rest of the way  without  any  more

problems."

"We've had our fair share for the  day,  I  think,"  she  said,  hoisting

herself up into the saddle and helping him on behind her.

"Solos always seem to have more than  their  'fair  share'  of  trouble,"

Droma commented dryly. "Maybe it's genetic."

"Hey, the universe is the one with the problem,"  she  returned  lightly.

"It's just the Solos' job to fix it."

The Ryn laughed as Jaina kicked the speeder into life and  began  winding

her way out of the crevasse.

Tahiri ducked. A coufee swished over her head. With a grunt she came back

up with her lightsaber in a two-handed blow and drove it  into  the  reptoid's

chest. The blue blade stuck out the alien's back for  an  instant  before  she

withdrew it and stepped away. The alien staggered back with an  expression  of

agonized surprise on its face, then toppled over into the snow.

"Jag, over here!" She hurried up the steep slope  with  the  Chiss  pilot

following close behind, peppering anyone crazy  enough  to  follow  them  with

projectile and energy fire. At the top of the slope, she paused to collect her

bearings, mindful that her silhouette would make an easy target for anyone  on

either side of the ridge, hurried down the far side.

In the distance, delineated as a red dot on her helmet's display, was  an

Imperial speeder cruising the far side of the transponder. She  tried  hailing

it by waving her arms.

"Hey, over here!"

"Tahiri, is that you?" Han's voice came loud and clear over the comm. Now

that they were in line of sight, conversing was simple.

"And Jag, too. We've lost our speeders."

"I'm on my way." Han changed course, disappearing behind the base of  the

transponder.

"Come on!" Tahiri grabbed Jag's arm and hurried him down the ridge.

A dark shadow slid across the dimly visible horizon as Han returned  with

another speeder. The second  pilot,  Enton  Adelmaa'j,  sprayed  the  reptoids

coming down the ridge after them, then skidded to a halt in front of Jag.

"Good to see you. We were starting to get a little worried."

"It's not over yet," Tahiri said, pointing. "Here comes the second yorik-

trema."

The  Yuuzhan  Vong  lander  was  proceeding  more  cautiously  than   its

predecessor, firing plasma bolts into the ground ahead of it. As she  watched,

one caught a mine. The explosion sent boiling air upward in  a  dark  mushroom

cloud. The yorik-trema rolled on through it, unscathed.

Han grunted. "Well, I guess we move to Plan B," he  said,  waving  Tahiri

onto the back of his speeder.

Jag jumped on to Adelmaa'j's craft, and together the  two  speeder  bikes

raced from the howling reptoids. They split up briefly  to  locate  the  other

speeders from the party, then regrouped on a  relatively  clear  side  of  the

battle zone. Only one speeder remained unaccounted for, and that  belonged  to

the relay base security chief-a fact that only made  Han's  scowl  cut  deeper

into his face.

"We can't hide the fact that the base isn't here  for  much  longer,"  he

said. "Especially if Eniknar has gone over. The sooner we get out of here  and

finish it, the better."

There were no arguments. The communications tech produced a remote  timer

and keyed a short code into it. He waited a second, then shook the  timer  and

tried again.

"There's something wrong," he said. "I'm trying to arm  the  charges  but

the transmission seems to be blocked. The dish must be damaged."

"Or sabotaged, more likely," Han said. He sighed. "Okay, I guess somebody

will have to go in and arm the charges manually."

"I'll go," Tahiri said without hesitation. "And I'll go  with  her,"  Jag

said.

Tahiri turned to face him. "I can manage on my own."

"I know that," he answered evenly. "But I still need to go."

She nodded, understanding the unstated sentiment. She was still  new  and

untested; someone needed to watch over her until they were  certain  that  she

wasn't going to betray them. Which was fine with her. If having him tag  along

was going to help allay suspicions, then so be it.

They rearranged speeders again while the comm tech explained what  needed

to be done.  The  detonator  control  box  was  hidden  at  the  base  of  the

transponder. Assuming the box itself was intact, all they'd  have  to  do  was

input the code into its keypad. The explosion would take out  the  transponder

and anything else within a hundred-meter radius. They would have only a minute

to get clear of the blast.

"Got it," Jag said, taking the controls. "We'll  meet  you  back  at  the

base-either on this speeder or the crest of a shock wave."

Han offered a half smile and a lazy salute. "Fly well."

"I always do." The Chiss pilot gunned the engine and sped off toward  the

transponder.

"When I became aware," Sekot told Luke, "the only person I had to talk to

was the first Magister. Jabitha's father, the second Magister, was the one who

realized what I was, and who helped me come to terms with my potential. It was

he who helped me survive the attack of the Far Outsiders that laid waste to my

southern hemisphere; it was he who encouraged me  to  retool  my  shipbuilding

facilities to the manufacture of weapons and other  means  by  which  I  could

defend myself and the people in my care. When we were  next  under  threat,  I

wasn't entirely ready, but I was able to survive. After  a  long  and  arduous

journey, I took my charges and myself to  safety,  revealing  myself  to  them

along the way. It was there, after the death of the Magister, the confusion of

my birth, and the

frantic desperation of my escape, that I finally found time to think."

The being projecting the image of Anakin Skywalker had all the  resources

of a planet behind it, yet still it  radiated  uncertainty.  It  was  easy  to

believe that it  was  the  child  Luke's  father  had  once  been,  enormously

powerful, tempted by the dark side but still too young to know what was  right

or wrong.

"The first thing I asked myself was: where did I come from?" Sekot placed

a hand on the lamina surface of the table. "Jabitha's father believed  that  I

arose directly out of the Potentium-that I was a physical incarnation  of  the

life energy he believed filled  the  universe.  To  him,  that  was  the  only

explanation that made any sense, but even then I knew it lacked something.  It

was a very human response in the face of two incomprehensible  phenomena,  and

it ignored the question of why such living planets had  not  come  into  being

elsewhere. If intelligence on this scale could  spontaneously  emerge  from  a

biosphere, why then, in a galaxy of hundreds of millions of star systems,  was

I the only one? What made me different?"

The intense blue  eyes  of  Sekot's  image  stared  into  Luke's  without

blinking. "I have spent decades examining my being in an  attempt  to  unravel

the truth of my self. Anakin Skywalker once described me  as  an  'immensity,'

yet at the same time a 'unity.' All conscious beings  could  be  described  as

such by the creatures that inhabit them. You all have a multitude of  bacteria

inhabiting your digestive tracts; from their point of view, you are undeniably

immense. And yet at the same  time  you  are  also  one.  The  truth  of  your

existence lies on the cellular level, in your genes; I came to suspect that my

truth lay on a similarly minute level-comparatively speaking, of  course.  The

people who inhabit my surface are as important to my well-being as the  boras,

the atmosphere, or the sun. Without them, I would be barren; fallow."

"They're part of your mind?" Hegerty asked, listening with fascination to

the words of the living planet.

"Would you say that the microbes in your stomach are part of your  mind?"

The image shook its head. "My intelligence is as far  above  the  Ferroans  as

yours is above those microbes. They fulfill other needs-needs you  would  have

difficulty comprehending. All you need to understand, for the purposes of this

conversation, is that I need them as much as they need me. Without them, it is

possible that I might never have existed. Or worse: I might have grown stunted

and feeble like the rogue boras that Jacen recently encountered."

The mention of his nephew immediately grabbed Luke's attention. "You know

where they are?"

Sekot nodded. "I'm speaking to them now."

Jag kept the transponder between himself and Tahiri and the second yorik-

trema. He came in low, relying on the large amount of dust kicked up by  mines

and energy discharges to  give  them  cover.  Only  once  did  they  encounter

resistance, and the single tsik seru was soon dispatched.

Soon they were ducking through a fence of horizontal girders and into the

transponder infrastructure. The exterior framework acted as  both  shield  and

support for the large and elaborate antenna structure  itself.  The  detonator

control was hidden under the skirt of the antenna, in  a  cavity  too  low  to

accommodate the speeder.

Jag deactivated the repulsor engine and hopped off.  Tahiri  watched  his

back while he pulled the machine under cover. Then the two  of  them  scurried

beneath the skirt and into the complex beneath.

The base of the antenna was a maze of supports and thick  cable  conduits

leading underground. It was so  dark  that  even  his  suit's  light-enhancing

algorithms had trouble coping. They made their way by the  shine  of  Tahiri's

lightsaber to the place the comm tech had described. Sure

enough, the detonator control was exactly where he'd said it would be.

Jag hunkered down next to it, opening the top  of  the  device  with  the

first of three codes he'd been given.  A  glowing  control  surface  unfolded,

providing him with a small 2-D video screen and a  keyboard.  It  was  awkward

with his gloves on, but Jag soon managed to  tap  out  the  commands  required

until he had the autodetonation window open before him. The second code gained

him access to the timer menu. He typed in a one-minute delay.

"Confirm the final code," he said to Tahiri. "And remember, we only  have

one chance at this. We get one digit wrong and it'll reset the codes and  shut

down for good."

Tahiri nodded and began to recite the code to  Jag.  "  Zero-eight-eight-

two-three-four-one-zero-three-zero." "That's what I've got."

He tapped in the digits one at a time while she watched to make  sure  he

didn't mistype anything. Just as he was keying in  the  second-to-last  digit,

though, something black shot past his faceplate. He jumped back, reaching  for

his charric blaster as the glowing controls burst into  a  shower  of  sparks.

Tahiri was one step ahead of him. Two more thud  bugs  came  darting  in;  she

burned them out of the air with her lightsaber just as a Yuuzhan Vong  warrior

bore down upon them, waving an amphistaff. Tahiri shouted  something  guttural

in return and met him halfway.

Jag stayed down, not wanting to risk hitting  Tahiri  with  an  ill-timed

shot in the cramped space, but ready to step in if needed. It was hard to tell

exactly what was going on; her lightsaber left sheets of glare in its wake. It

looked for a moment as though she was being driven back by  heavy  blows  from

the amphistaff, but then, just when he felt sure she was  beaten,  she  ducked

beneath the weapon and delivered a lazy-looking slash that opened

the warrior up from groin to chin. With a steaming gurgle, the alien fell

backward and was still.

Tahiri didn't even appear out of breath when she returned  her  attention

to Jag.

"How bad is the damage?" she asked.

He looked down at the detonator unit. The control surface  was  blackened

and melted; its glow was completely gone. When he touched  it,  there  was  no

response.

"That can't be a good sign."

"We have to get it working."

He leaned in to examine the unit more closely. " I think  it's  just  the

controls that are damaged. The unit itself  seems  to  be  functioning.  There

might be another way to activate it."

Something shuffled out of the  darkness  toward  them.  In  a  heartbeat,

Tahiri had turned from Jag, her lightsaber at the ready  for  another  attack.

Just as quickly, though, her posture relaxed. It wasn't another warrior, but a

Galactic Alliance-issue enviro-suit limned with frost.  Steaming  blood  caked

one side. Through the partially fogged visor, Jag made out  square,  reptilian

features, clenched with pain.

"Eniknar?" Tahiri took some of the base security chief's weight onto  her

as the Noghri almost collapsed to the ground  next  to  them.  His  lips  were

moving, but Jag couldn't hear anything.

"His comm is gone," Tahiri said. "You should be able to hear him  if  you

touch helmets."

Jag leaned in to the wounded alien.

"Manual release." Eniknar's soft voice was even more  muted  than  usual,

but there was no mistaking the pain he was in. "There's a... manual release."

His hands fumbled for the detonator control unit. Around the back  was  a

panel he managed to twist free, exposing several buttons in numerous colors.

"Manual release," he wheezed, falling back against

Tahiri in a manner that suggested all of his  strength  had  been  spent.

"Coded."

"Will it set off the bombs?"

Nod.

"Is there a delay?"

Shake.

"So whoever sets it off will die."

Another nod.

Jag pulled back, as did Tahiri.  They  stared  at  each  other  over  the

injured security chief, but before either could speak, Eniknar clutched at the

front of Jag's enviro-suit, pulling him closer.

"Me," the Noghri wheezed. "I'll do it. I know the code."

"No," Jag said, breaking free of the Noghri's  grip.  "You  tell  us  the

code, and Tahiri can use the Force to depress the button from a safe distance.

"

"I don't think we have time for  that,"  Tahiri  returned  soberly.  "And

besides, even if we could, we can't fit three on a speeder. One  of  us  would

still be left behind."

Jag turned over a number of possibilities in his head, each dismissed  as

quickly as they came to him.

"How do we even know we can trust Eniknar?" he argued, pulling away  from

the injured security chief so his  objection  wouldn't  be  overheard.  "Droma

warned us to be careful of him, right? Leia thinks he's  a  traitor.  What  if

this is a ruse? If we leave him to-"

"It's not a ruse," Tahiri said.

"How can you be so sure?"

Her gaze dropped to Eniknar, seeming to stare into  him  rather  than  at

him. After a long moment, she looked back at Jag.

"I just am."

"Well, that still doesn't mean he has to be the one who sacrifices-"

"Jag," she interrupted sternly. "We don't have time

for this. From the look of him, I doubt that he's going to  survive  very

long anyway."

Jag sighed. She was right; they were running out of time. He leaned  back

down to Eniknar.

"Are you sure?" he said, offering one last resistance to  the  plan.  "We

could try-"

The security chief was already shaking his  head  before  he'd  finished.

"This way... at least... I die... with honor."

Jag knew it made no sense to argue. The Noghri's strength was ebbing;  if

he left his decision too long, the situation  might  be  taken  out  of  their

hands.

He placed the control unit against Eniknar's chest, and Tahiri  taped  it

in place.

"Twenty seconds," she said through their visors.  "Wait  twenty  seconds,

then input the code, okay? That'll give us time to get clear."

Eniknar's eyes were shut as he nodded. "I can wait... that long."

They left him there, propped up  against  a  reinforced  girder.  As  Jag

gunned the speeder bike off into the darkness, scattering a  pack  of  reptoid

ground troops in their wake, he heard Tahiri's voice in his helmet speakers.

"Rrush'hok ichnar vinim'hok," she muttered softly.

"What's that?"

"It's a Yuuzhan Vong blessing," she said. "It  means,  'die  well,  brave

warrior.' "

Jag acknowledged the sentiment with a nod of his head, although her  ease

with the Yuuzhan Vong culture continued to unsettle him. "I guess  the  others

owe him an apology."

"I'll make sure he gets one, when things quiet down."

"A little late, don't you think?"

"Not for those of us who will remember him."

Eniknar's sacrifice didn't sit well with Jag for so many

reasons he had difficulty identifying  them  all.  Chiss  culture  had  a

strong aversion to suicide, regarding it wasteful and unjustifiable.  Although

Eniknar's gesture would save many more lives, it still rankled.

But there was something else that bothered him more.  If  Eniknar  wasn't

the traitor as everyone had believed him to be, then who was?

Behind them, the sky lit  with  a  bright,  white  light,  as  though  an

impossible dawn had come to this cold and sunless world.

"Your uncle asks after you," the image with Vergere's face said to Jacen.

Saba observed the exchange with senses desensitized to  surprise.  That  Sekot

could be in two places at once didn't seem as unreasonable as  it  would  have

just a day ago. "I have told him that you are all well, and that no harm  will

come to you now that the testing is complete."

"Did you test the Ferroanz, too?" Saba asked. She was still  smarting  at

the way she and Jacen had  been  deceived.  The  supposed  mastermind  of  the

kidnappers, Senshi, smiled serenely at her  from  where  he  rested  with  the

Magister against one side of the seeding ground.

Sekot's beaked visage turned to  face  her.  "When  I  awoke,  they  were

already here. In fact, I suspect it was their  arrival  that  precipitated  my

awakening-or at least hastened it along. Whatever process I was undergoing  to

reach full awareness, it needed only their presence to be complete."

"That doesn't explain  where  you  came  from,"  Danni  said.  The  human

scientist seemed none the worse for her time spent unconscious at the whim  of

Sekot. She sat cross-legged on the stretcher, listening  intently  to  Sekot's

story. "If you weren't a chance combination  of  elements  requiring  just  an

intelligent, peaceful civilization to jump-

start your evolution to consciousness, then what were you?  How  did  you

come to be?"

"I have asked myself that many times," Sekot said, "and never  been  able

to satisfactorily answer it. Jabitha's father's understanding of the Force was

flawed. I know that now. He thought that everything was one in the  Potentium,

a teaching that has survived among the Ferroans to  this  day.  But  the  Jedi

showed me that evil does exist, and  I  know  that  the  Far  Outsiders  stand

outside the Force. Where does that leave me now? Did I spring from  the  Force

or somewhere else?"

"We have speculated  on  this,"  Danni  said.  "There  are  a  number  of

possibilities."

"And I would be interested  to  discuss  them  with  you  another  time."

Vergere's fringe shivered as she turned  to  face  the  human  scientist.  "It

remains, though, that a sample size of one is not enough for either of  us  to

reach a conclusion. The simple fact is that I do not know where I came from. I

have not come across any others of my kind anywhere else in  the  galaxy,  and

that makes me wonder. Perhaps I did wake  once,  or  many  times  before,  but

without the Ferroans I retreated into unconsciousness and  forgot  those  dark

periods of my development. I only came into the light when there  was  someone

here to welcome my birth, someone to know me. For without that, could  I  ever

be considered alive?"

Saba was struck by the image of  world-minds  like  orphaned  hatchlings,

scattered across the stars. What would it be like  to  grow  up  alone,  never

knowing who had spawned you, or who  your  siblings  might  be?  She  couldn't

imagine it. Neither could she decide if it  would  be  worse  or  better  than

knowing your family and then losing them.

Vergere's alien eyes regarded Jacen coolly, waiting for him to comment.

He did so eventually with a nod. "You're right. It's how we treat  others

that matters, not where we came from."

"Exactly, young Jedi. I stand by everything  I've  done  since  I  became

alive. I trust and obey my own imperatives."

"Thoze being?" Saba asked.

"The same as any intelligent  entity:  to  live  in  peace,  to  grow  in

knowledge and wisdom, to love and be loved in return."  Vergere's  smiled  was

broad and peaceful, belying the words that followed. "And if any tries to  rob

me of my right to follow those imperatives, I have the same choices as anyone:

I can run or I can fight. I have experienced both."

Leia tried Ashpidar for the fourth time, now more worried than before.

"Commander? Are you there?"

"Perhaps Commander  Ashpidar  is  attending  business  elsewhere,"  C-3PO

suggested.

"I'm not so sure," she said. "It's been far too long.  A  good  commander

wouldn't leave her post like this at a time of  crisis."  She  stood  after  a

moment's consideration. "I'm going to see what's wrong."

"Oh, dear." The golden droid's arms flapped like those  of  a  flightless

bird. "Do you think that's a good idea,  Princess?  Perhaps  a  call  to  base

security-"

"I'd rather check it out myself." She  retrieved  her  lightsaber  and  a

blaster from the passenger area. "It's the only way to be sure."

"As you wish, Princess," the droid said.

Meewalh and Cakhmain, her two Noghri bodyguards, preceded  her  down  the

umbilical connecting the Falcon to the base.

"Stay here," she said to C-3PO. "Call  me  on  my  comlink  if  you  hear

anything. If I'm not back in half an hour, or I haven't called you,  shut  the

air lock and wait for Han to come back. Don't let anyone else in, whatever you

do."

Leia left him dithering and flustered, reassuring her profusely that he'd

do as instructed. She slotted between Meewalh and Cakhmain  and  walked  along

the umbilical into the relay base.

The corridors were quiet as she headed to Ashpidar's quarters.  The  base

was on alert, so most of the crew were at their stations, ready in case of  an

emergency. She  passed  two  of  the  Ugnaughts  and  a  Sullustan  supervisor

performing maintenance work on a power router, but apart from that,  the  base

seemed utterly deserted.

Leia took the curving corridor leading to Ashpidar's office at  a  slower

pace, wary of surprises. She didn't know what was making her so edgy, but  she

couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

The door to Ashpidar's office was, not surprisingly, locked. "Go back and

get that engineer," she ordered Meewalh. "Perhaps she can get us in."

While she waited for Meewalh to return with the Sullustan, she  tried  in

vain to listen for anything through the bulkhead. The room on the  other  side

was either empty, or-

She  stopped  herself  short.  There  was  no  point  heading  for   such

pessimistic conclusions until she had cause to do so. There  were  a  thousand

reasons that might explain Ashpidar's silence. Just because she couldn't think

of one that held up to close examination at this time didn't necessarily  mean

there wasn't one...

"What's the problem here?" the Sullustan asked, striding  confidently  up

to Leia.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your work-" Leia read the engineer's name tag. "-

Gantree, but I need to get into this room."

Gantree's response was instantly suspicious. "Why?"

"Commander Ashpidar isn't answering my calls."

"She could be resting."

"At a time like this?" Leia shook her head.

"Then perhaps she's busy elsewhere on the base."

"Have you seen her in the last couple of hours?"

The engineer sighed, her large eyes blinking. "You must  understand  that

privacy on a base such as this is respected by everyone. I can't just-"

"I do understand that," Leia said. "But  this  is  important.  I  have  a

terrible feeling that something has happened to the commander. So please, open

this door. If my suspicions  prove  to  be  unfounded,  then  I'll  take  full

responsibility."

The Sullustan slowly nodded. "Very well," she muttered,  approaching  the

door and examining its keypad.  "But  if  she  asks  what-"  Gantree  stopped,

frowning down at the lock. "That's strange."

"What is it? "Leia asked.

"The door," the engineer said. "It's been locked from the outside."

Leia's stomach began to turn over uneasily as the engineer  tapped  in  a

long string of codes until the lock finally beeped and the door slid open.

Meewalh went first. Leia followed close behind, her lightsaber drawn  but

not lit. The first thing she noticed was a smell of  ozone  in  the  air.  The

second was a pair of large feet protruding from behind the desk.

She hurried over to where Ashpidar lay facedown,  a  web  of  fine  wires

wrapped around her horns. The engineer pushed past to examine the body of  her

commander.

"They tortured her!" the Sullustan exclaimed, tugging  at  the  wires  to

remove them. "Gotals can't stand intense magnetic fields anywhere near them."

"Will she be all right?" Leia asked, crouching down beside the Sullustan.

Gotal physiology wasn't one of her strong points.

"They just knocked her out." Gantree's big eyes looked up imploringly  at

Leia. "Why would anyone do this?"

"Lady Vader," Cakhmain whispered. "I think you should see this."

She looked up. The Noghri female was examining the safe in  the  wall  of

Ashpidar's office. It should have been tightly sealed, but the door was  ajar.

When Cakhmain swung it fully open, the inside was empty.

Cold rushed through her as she realized what had happened.

"Someone stole the villip."

The Sullustan engineer looked confused. "A villip?"

"Eniknar and Ashpidar found one hidden in a maintenance recess  a  couple

of days ago," she explained. "They were trying to find out whom it belonged to

when the Yuuzhan Vong attacked. Someone must have used it to lure them here."

"A traitor? Here?"

A discomfiting thought struck her. "We thought it was Eniknar because  he

smelled wrong."

The Sullustan frowned. "What does smell have to do with it?"

"To a Noghri, everything. Usually." She glanced at  her  bodyguards,  but

they didn't have the capacity to look sheepish. "The  real  traitor  has  been

here all along," she went on. "And now he or she has the villip."

Alarm showed on the engineer's expressive  face.  "They  could  call  the

Yuuzhan Vong down upon us!"

Leia nodded gravely. "We have to find a way to stop that from happening."

"Wouldn't they have done it already?

"Unlikely," she said. "They'd need to be  able  to  get  away  from  here

first. They wouldn't want to go down with the ship."

"Then they must be heading out on foot,  because  there  are  no  speeder

bikes left."

"And it takes time to put on an enviro-suit." A sense of urgency  gripped

her; they might have arrived too late

to prevent Ashpidar from being tortured for the codes for the  safe,  but

they might yet stop the traitor finishing the job. "Come on."

Gantree hurried from the room close behind Leia. "A roll call would  tell

us who was missing," she began, flustered by Leia's sudden haste.

"That would only alert them that we're onto them. No, we have to  get  to

them before they escape. Which air lock would they use?"

"There's only one designed for suited EVA."

"Take me there."

The Sullustan's  short  legs  propelled  her  rapidly  along  the  base's

corridor, urged on by Leia's certainty that this was the only way to stop  the

traitor. There wasn't time to move the base to safety-or the Falcon, for  that

matter. If they failed, it would all end here.

The extravehicular air lock was locked when they arrived. Through a thick

transparisteel observation window, they saw a diminutive  figure  working  the

final seals on an enviro-suit. Leia couldn't make out  who  it  was  from  the

back, but the Sullustan beside her seemed  to  know  automatically.  Her  hand

punched at an intercom.

"Tegg! What are you doing?"

The Ugnaught on the other side of the glass  didn't  respond,  except  to

hasten his efforts. There was a small,  vacuum-sealed  box  beside  him,  just

large enough to contain a villip.

"Why are you doing this?" the engineer went on. "Don't you  know  they'll

kill us all?"

Still the Ugnaught didn't speak, but the  look  of  hatred  in  the  tiny

traitor's eyes said it all: Peace Brigade. They were  everywhere,  their  once

vague and amorphous resentment and anger finally given shape  by  the  Yuuzhan

Vong.

"Can we open the door?" Leia asked.

The Sullustan tapped at a keypad, then threw her hands up in frustration.

"He's frozen the controls!"

"Then we have to stop him  getting  out."  Leia's  palms  itched  at  the

closeness of disaster. "Does this lock meet standard safety requirements?"

The Sullustan looked offended at the suggestion that it  might  not.  "Of

course! Why?"

"That means the outer lock can't open if there's a breach  in  the  inner

lock." She snapped on her lightsaber. "Stand back."

Her bodyguards and the Sullustan moved to the far side of  the  air  lock

bay. Leia raised her lightsaber and channeled all her  energy  along  it.  She

would need every iota of strength she had to drill through a  half-meter-thick

transparisteel sheet.

Yellow-hot sparks flew in all directions as she brought the  tip  of  her

lightsaber in contact with the window. A trickle of molten transparisteel  ran

down the surface, and she felt the blade sink slowly into it,  one  centimeter

at a time. The Ugnaught looked up and hastened his efforts to escape, but  she

didn't let herself think about him. His actions were beyond her control  right

now; she had to focus solely upon the job at hand. She narrowed her  awareness

down to the blade itself, sending her will in waves down to the very tip as it

worked its way through the transparisteel. There she concentrated on  breaking

chemical bonds, setting chunks of complex materials free, burning  deeper  and

deeper. Her being dissolved in that fire until she seemed no longer to  exist.

Everything hinged on one incredibly simple task, and  she  became  that  task.

There was nothing else of her left.

An alarm sounding in  her  ears  dragged  her  reluctantly  back  to  her

physical surroundings, thinking she'd made it through the window  and  thereby

activated the breach failsafes. But there was still resistance at the  end  of

her lightsaber. She looked up from the glow of her blade and saw  red  warning

lights flashing, but they weren't from

any alarm she had triggered. The exterior air lock was open and  the  air

lock was empty.

She couldn't believe her eyes. It wasn't  possible!  Yet  there  it  was,

undeniable. The Ugnaught had escaped, leaving the door jammed open behind  him

so they couldn't follow. The  same  failsafes  that  might  have  stopped  the

traitor now stopped her. She couldn't open the inner door while the outer  was

ajar. All of  her  efforts  had  been  for  nothing....  She  deactivated  her

lightsaber.

"Can you move the  base  without  Ashpidar's  authorization?"  she  said,

turning to the engineer. "Yes, but-"

"Just do it. Get it out of here now! It doesn't matter  where.  I'll  get

the Falcon moving, too, perhaps as a decoy. Any chance at all is  better  than

none!"

Gantree blinked wide, frightened eyes at her. Leia sensed the Sullustan's

fear, but she didn't have time to reassure her. If they were going to save the

relay base then - Something clattering in the air  lock  distracted  her.  She

turned in unison with the Sullustan to see that  the  Ugnaught  had  returned.

Through the thick, Esfandian air that had filled the chamber it  was  hard  to

tell exactly what was going on, but it looked as though he'd tripped  headlong

over the threshold and now lay sprawled faceup on the floor. As Leia  watched,

he struggled to his feet, edging away from the open air lock with his back  to

the window. Seconds later, Leia saw the cause of his fear.

A human-shaped figure in an enviro-suit stepped  into  the  air  lock,  a

glowing violet lightsaber raised, ready to strike.

Relief tightened Leia's throat. "Jaina!" "I came as  soon  as  I  could,"

came her daughter's voice  over  the  intercom.  "You  felt  me?"  "Felt  that

something was wrong. I homed in on you

just in time to catch this little one trying to set up his pet villip."

At that moment, the Ugnaught feinted and made a break for the door. Jaina

gestured with her free hand and he flew against a wall, arms and  legs  spread

wide.

Another figure appeared in the door. Leia sensed the two talking to  each

other, although she couldn't tap  into  their  internal  comm  system  without

wearing a suit of her own.

"Droma says there's something going on above," Jaina said as the  two  of

them worked at the obstruction holding the external door open. "Looks like the

fighting's started again. We'll let ourselves in while you go check to see  if

Pellaeon's sent some telemetry."

Leia nodded, her relief at the timely rescue turning once again to worry.

Whatever had broken the stalemate, it couldn't  bode  well  for  the  Imperial

forces. They were still outnumbered.

Besides, this wasn't the way the plan was supposed to go.  If  Jaina  and

the others had successfully destroyed the transponder tower, making it look as

if the relay base had been destroyed, there should be no reason for  Commander

Vorrik to stick around any longer. He could leave,  mission  accomplished  and

honor intact, leaving the Galactic Alliance to sift through the  wreckage.  So

why was he still here?

The crisis with the villip safely averted, her thoughts turned out to the

rest of the planet, and beyond. The battle may have been won, but  the  course

of the war was still very much to be decided.

Something anxious and troubling chewed at  her  stomach.  What  had  gone

wrong?

A chill went down Jacen's spine. "You've  decided  to  fight,"  he  said,

trying to fathom the words coming from his former teacher with the same

veneration as if Vergere herself were  speaking.  "Is  that  what  you're

telling me?"

"That is not what I said." Sekot turned on  him  and  fixed  him  with  a

piercing stare. "I said that I had a choice, and that I have tried both of the

options already. I fought off the Far Outsiders. Then, I fled the fire of  the

inner galaxy, seeking the outer darkness so that I might be  alone-so  that  I

might be safe. And for many years I was just that. Then you came to disturb my

peace."

"The Yuuzhan Vong came first," he reminded the living planet.

"You both invade my Sanctuary."  "But  with  different  intentions."  The

image of Vergere's feathered eyebrows went up in surprise. "You presume a lot,

young Jedi," Sekot said. "Without knowing what the Far Outsiders said  to  me,

what they demanded of me, or what  they  tried  to  take  from  me,  you  seem

confident to speak of their intentions."

Jacen bowed his head apologetically. "You're right, of course." He raised

his eyes to meet those of Vergere. "Nevertheless, you must have seen something

different about us. You allowed us to land, after all; the  Yuuzhan  Vong  you

simply destroyed."

"The Jedi have never openly meant me harm, and I have learned  much  from

you in the past. There is much I have left to learn, and  you  can  help  with

that, under the right circumstances. Many people here remember your kind,  and

would have been keen to have you here, but for your war."

"We're here in search of peace, not war,"  Jacen  said,  injecting  every

word with as much sincerity as he could muster.

"How can I give you peace?"

Jacen shook his head. This was the question that  had  haunted  him  ever

since his teacher's death "I don't know,"

he admitted. "But there has to  be  something,  otherwise  Vergere  would

never have sent us in the first place."

"I could give you weapons to help you fight your war," Sekot  said.  "The

Far Outsiders are invisible to the life flows that the first  Magister  called

the Potentium and that you Jedi call the Force, but that does  not  make  them

utter abominations. Ever since their  first  attack,  I  have  been  examining

fragments of destroyed vessels, seeking to understand the principles by  which

they operate."

"Back-engineering their technology," Danni said.

"Precisely. Much that I found was confusing and disturbing,  but  I  took

what I could and made it my own. My living ships and weapons bear similarities

to those of the Far Outsiders, and few of their weaknesses."

Jacen felt his breath catch in his throat. Was this why Vergere had  sent

them to Sekot? Part of him was excited by the thought of beating  the  Yuuzhan

Vong at their own game, but it didn't ring true with what he remembered of his

teacher. He doubted she had intended for them to  find  superweapons  to  help

destroy the Yuuzhan Vong. A deeper understanding  of  their  enemy,  yes,  and

perhaps a new weakness, but not another means of wreaking slaughter.

"What's wrong, Jacen?" Sekot asked him. "You don't look pleased."

"I guess I'm not," he said. "I don't think that's why we're here."

"You're not here to get our help in the war?" Jabitha asked.

"We are, yes. But not like that."

"Then how? What else do we have to offer you?"

"I don't know."

The image of his teacher crooked one eye  higher  than  the  other  in  a

distinctly avian gesture. "I am a force unlike anything you have  come  across

before," Sekot said. "Are you trying to tell me that were I to offer myself as

a

weapon in your fight against the Far Outsiders, you would turn me down?"

Jacen felt Saba and Danni staring at him, and  for  a  moment  two  words

warred with his thoughts.

Yes-because he was tired of death and destruction and the  endless  cycle

of violence. A military victory for the Galactic Alliance  would  require  the

utter genocide of the Yuuzhan Vong species. How could he  possibly  live  with

himself if he was in any way responsible for something like that?

And no-because he could see no other way to defend  those  he  loved.  If

there was no other option but military might, he couldn't stand by  and  watch

his friends and family be slaughtered. His conscience would be clear  to  turn

down the offer of such a weapon, he knew, but what was a moral victory  if  in

the end it meant the deaths of trillions?

The weight of the future might rest heavily upon what he would say  next,

yet Jacen felt incredibly small at that moment. With a word  he  could  change

the course of the war, and therefore the destiny of his people.

"Well?" Sekot prompted. "What is your answer?"

"No."

The word seemed to echo in Luke's mind  as  he  imagined  generations  of

children who might not live if the  Galactic  Alliance  failed  in  the  fight

against the Yuuzhan Vong-children such as his  own  son,  Ben.  He  saw  every

species of the galaxy enslaved to the  biological  slave  machine  of  Supreme

Overlord Shimrra-every cell screaming rebellion, but every limb  yoked  in  an

endless cycle of pain and despair. With such images  in  his  mind,  could  he

really afford to turn down the means to  the  galaxy's  salvation  that  Sekot

might bring?

"You would accept such an offer?" said the image of

Anakin Skywalker, face tipped forward as though seeking reassurance  that

he'd heard correctly.

Luke nodded slowly, deliberately. "I would."

But even as he spoke the words,  he  couldn't  help  but  wonder  if,  in

accepting the offer, he might be straying too  close  to  the  dark  side,  or

encouraging Sekot to do so...

"Then consider the offer made," Sekot said, smiling broadly.

Behind Luke, the Ferroans gasped as one. This  they  hadn't  expected-and

neither had Luke.

"What about all this talk about wanting peace and to be left alone?" Mara

asked. She made no attempt to hide her suspicions.

"I still desire those things," Sekot said. "I just  know  that  I  cannot

have them here, or while the Far Outsiders trouble this galaxy. So my offer is

for my benefit as much as it is your own."

"But, Sekot," Rowel spluttered, "what of Sanctuary?"

"Sanctuary has already been irreparably shattered," Sekot answered.  "You

see, the escape of the coralskipper from the moon  M-Three  was  not  entirely

fiction. One vessel did manage to escape my net during the attack, and we must

presume  that  that  ship  is  returning  to  its  masters  to  report  on  my

whereabouts."

The words provoked a look of both horror and surprise  on  the  faces  of

Darak and Rowel. Horror for Sekot's decision to help the Jedi,  and  surprise,

perhaps, because even their godlike planet had not been able to prevent one of

the enemy's ships from escaping.

Sekot must have seen this in their expressions, too.

"I guess I am not as all-powerful as  you  think  me,"  it  said  to  the

Ferroans. To Mara and Luke it added: "Nor you. Is that a sobering thought?"

Pellaeon  observed  the  demise  of  the   transponder   with   something

approaching satisfaction. The explosion showed

as  a  white-hot  dimple  bulging  up  through  the   dense   atmosphere,

accompanied by a  sharp  electromagnetic  crack.  It  was  unmistakable,  even

through the flash and scatter of the battle above.

Now, Vorrik, he thought. Let's see what you're really made of.  Will  you

turn tail and flee, or have I stung your pride enough to make you stay around,

for one final humiliation?

Kur-hashan seemed to hover, indecisive, as the  news  sunk  in.  Pellaeon

wondered what was going through the commander's mind. What secret  agenda  had

been confounded? Pellaeon didn't doubt there was one. Expending so much energy

to knock out a single communications nexus just didn't make sense. They  could

have destroyed it days ago simply by pounding the surface of the  planet  back

to molten slag. That they hadn't could only mean one thing:  they  wanted  the

base intact.

Pellaeon smiled as Kur-hashan began to come about, preparing for  all-out

attack.

"Send the signal," he instructed  his  aide.  "I  think  it's  been  long

enough." Secrets within secrets...

Imperial and Yuuzhan Vong forces clashed anew, a thousand bright  flashes

lighting up the dark world below. TIE  fighter  hunted  coralskipper;  capital

ships turned their prodigious energies against each other;  shields  burned  a

million different colors, dissipating deadly forces in  all  directions.  From

the planet below, the skies of Esfandia would be burning bright, as they never

had before.

Pellaeon stood firm on the bridge as Kur-hashan bore  down  on  him.  The

hideous, mottled hull grinned like a dreadful death mask. He imagined Vorrik's

rage and anticipation building behind it. An  infidel  might  defy  the  great

commander, but victory in the end was assured. As far  as  Vorrik  would  have

been concerned, it was only a

matter of time before his superior forces swept those in his path to  the

edges of the universe, like dust.

A ripple of worry spread across the bridge. For the briefest of  moments,

Pellaeon wondered if Vorrik might be right, if  he  hadn't  miscalculated  the

timing or gotten the message wrong. A thousand and one things could have  gone

awry, which was why he hadn't shared the truth with anyone but his aide.

Then, just as the grinning skull of Kur-hashan seemed to bulge out of the

screen at him, a telemetry officer spoke up.

"Hyperspace signatures, sir-dozens of them!"

Pellaeon let out the breath he'd been holding as ships of all shapes  and

sizes appeared around Esfandia, a ragtag fleet armed  with  patchwork  cannons

and out-of-date  missiles.  What  they  lacked  in  top-of-the-line  hardware,

though, they more than  made  up  for  with  surprise  and  guts.  They  threw

themselves against the warship and its attendant craft, pounding dovin  basals

and cutting great swaths out of yorik coral. For a minute, it looked as though

the alien behemoth might recover its poise, and its control of  the  situation

with it, but with atmosphere and bodies venting in more than a  dozen  places,

and dovin basals failing in great ripples along one flank,  the  tide  quickly

turned. A gunboat with unfamiliar markings stitched a line of fiery death down

the giant living vessel's spine. Two very unsteady-looking corvettes,  working

in tandem, took out a yammosk-bearing support ship. A heavily  shielded  drone

freighter spun out of control into Kur-hashan's  midsection  and  blew  up  as

though it had been loaded from stem to stern with high explosives.

"Incoming transmission!" his  comm  officer  announced.  "It's  from  the

enemy."

Pellaeon smiled.

Vorrik's hideous visage appeared before him. The commander's  bridge  was

shaking behind him, and the image was fuzzy, as though the  room  was  filling

with smoke.

Pellaeon made a gesture to his aide, out of Vorrik's sight.

" I take it you wish to surrender, Vorrik?"

The warrior snarled. "You cannot defeat us, infidel."

"Five minutes ago I would have said the same thing," Pellaeon said.  "But

now..."

"You may kill us, but you will not defeat us! You will never defeat us!"

With a roar from the commander, the communication  ended.  Pellaeon  knew

what was about to happen. "Full  shields  immediately!"  he  commanded.  "He's

going to blow his drives!"

The order spread among the Imperial and other ships harassing  the  giant

destroyer. Just as Kur-hashan's surviving engines surged forward and something

deep in its belly began to erupt, every ship within range  shunted  all  power

away from attack to defense. The commander's final gesture was wasted. For all

the fury of the dying warship, all the energy expended in one  wild  rush  and

all the Yuuzhan Vong lives lost, it did little more than nudge Right  to  Rule

slightly off course.

And when the titanic fireball had  dwindled  to  embers,  the  odds  were

better than even.

"Transmission from Pride of Selonia."

"Put it through," Pellaeon ordered. "My station only."

He turned as a holo image of Captain Mayn appeared behind him.

"Congratulations, Grand Admiral," she said. "I presume you knew all along

what was going to happen."

"That Vorrik would self-destruct rather than surrender? No, but it was  a

good bet he'd prefer to go out kicking. I may not have as much experience with

the Yuuzhan Vong as you, but I know their type; I know  the  way  they  think.

They never bend; all they can do is break, with an eye to the spectacular."

Mayn smiled. "Actually, I was referring to the  other  ships.  Where  did

they come from? Who are they?"

"Friends of yours, I believe. They told me about Esfandia after  Generis.

They suggested I come here  to  avoid  another  catastrophe.  They  also  said

reinforcements wouldn't be far behind, if I needed them. I could  summon  them

by transmitting a code phrase on a particular frequency. When Vorrik  attacked

rather than giving up the game, I figured the time had come."

"That was quite a gamble, sir."

"You have a problem with the way it turned out, Captain?"

Mayn smiled briefly. "Not at all, Admiral. I might  have  done  the  same

thing myself, given the circumstances. I'm just trying to work out  who  these

'friends' of ours are, though."

"I was hoping you could tell me," Pellaeon said.  "All  I  know  is  that

they're calling themselves the Ryn network."

Understanding and puzzlement collided on Mayn's face.  "Really?  Well,  I

suppose they could've called in some favors,  here  and  there,  but  I  never

suspected they'd have this sort of influence."

"So you do know something about them?"

Mayn nodded. "A little. But you might want to talk to Princess  Leia  and

Captain Solo to find out the full story."

With that, Mayn saluted, and the transmission ended. Pellaeon turned back

to his duties, nodding thoughtfully to himself.

"Believe me," he muttered, "I intend to."

"Yes."

Stunned silence fell about the rain-soaked pit in  the  wake  of  Jacen's

answer to Sekot. He could feel Saba and Danni looking at him, uncomprehending.

How could he have said that? their  eyes  asked.  How  could  he  have  damned

countless millions to unspeakable misery?

He turned away from them both, not wanting their silent accusations. Deep

in his heart he knew he'd made the right decision, and two voices in his  mind

reassured him of that. The first belonged to Wynssa Fel, who had said  to  him

on Csilla: The weapon at your side seems out of place on a man  who  professes

to hate violence. The second voice belonged to his uncle: How do  we  fight  a

brutal, evil enemy without becoming brutal and evil ourselves?

Somewhere between those two statements lurked the justification  for  his

decision. It was the most difficult decision he'd ever had to make, and one he

could not explain in a few words to either Danni or Saba.  It  pained  him  to

think of what the ramifications of his decision might be for the rest  of  the

galaxy, but he wasn't about to back down from the stand he was making.  Saying

yes to Zonama Sekot had been a show of strength, not an act of weakness.

"After traveling as far as you have to beseech my help," Sekot said, "you

reject my offer. Are you sure?"

"I stand by my decision," he answered soberly.

"Jacen..." Danni's objection petered out with a bewildered shake  of  her

head.

"Military might is not what we need," he  tried  to  explain.  "I  cannot

countenance destruction as a solution to the threat  of  destruction.  In  the

long run, such a victory would only bring about our own  downfall."  He  faced

Sekot once again. "I'm sorry, but I cannot accept your offer."

The image of his former teacher smiled. "Nevertheless, I have decided  to

join your cause."

Jacen frowned at Sekot's unnaturally dry image. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you have achieved what you set out to do,"  Sekot  said.

"I shall return with you to your war.

Whether or not I can make a difference, of course, remains to be seen."

Vergere's image moved over to where Jacen stood, his mind still numb with

shock. To his surprise, the  arm  Vergere's  image  placed  around  his  waist

exerted a faint pressure, like heavy fog.

"We are done with running," Sekot told him,  softly,  so  only  he  could

hear. "We must find a way to end this war. Perhaps together we  can  work  out

which way we must go. Not just for ourselves, but for the  sake  of  all  life

within the galaxy."

Jacen turned to stare into the eyes of his former  teacher.  In  them  he

found great  intellect  and  infinite  compassion,  as  well  as  an  ageless,

unfathomable wisdom the likes of which he could never hope to achieve. But try

as he might, he could find no reassurance in them, and that troubled him  more

than he was prepared to admit.

"It gives me great displeasure, Supreme One, to  report  on  yet  another

nest of perfidy, this time in Numesh sector and overseen by the Prefect Zareb.

"

Nom Anor watched with keen interest as the court of the Supreme  Overlord

heard of the latest supposed threat to the status quo. The  villip  hidden  in

Ngaaluh's robes caught the scene with perfect clarity  as  she  presented  her

report. He listened with relish,  feeling  the  need  for  some  uncomplicated

revenge in order to wash the taste of Shoon-mi's betrayal from his throat.

Shimrra was seated atop his  yorik  throne,  one  elbow  resting  on  the

throne's arm as he gazed down reflectively upon those gathered before him. The

baleful red eyes swept the attentive crowd. There was no sound apart from  the

shuffling of feet and the soft, creaking contractions of shifting  armor,  and

Ngaaluh's voice, tolling the doom of the former executor  Zareb.  The  planted

heretics had been interrogated; their testimony was plain.

"It is with regret that I must deliver this news, Supreme  One,  but  the

conclusion is inescapable: you have been yet again betrayed by someone in whom

you put your trust."

Shimrra shook his  head  at  the  inevitable  conclusion.  "How  is  this

possible?"

"My Lord, I fear-"

"Not you, Ngaaluh. You have said all you need to say."  Shimrra  rose  to

his feet and descended from his throne with  calculated  precision,  red  eyes

glancing at a different member of his audience with each step. His voice, when

he spoke, was like the voice of Yun-Yuuzhan himself.

"The heresy is not a poison gas that sneaks in through the cracks. It  is

not spirits whispering in someone's ear. It is not a  contagion,  floating  on

the wind. No, the heresy is spread by Shamed Ones who are flesh and blood like

us. They possess no supernatural powers. Their  love  of  the  infidel  Jeedai

gives them no unseen advantage."

Shimrra's posture was one of restrained fury when he reached the base  of

the steps.

"So, Warmaster, can you explain how these  flesh-and-blood  heretics  are

able to corrupt my most trusted servants without being detected?"

The mighty Nas Choka ground sharpened teeth together. "Our investigations

continue through all avenues, Great One," he said. "Of prime concern to us  is

the nature of the traitors Ngaaluh has reported. They are all, you will  note,

of the intendant caste."

"Indeed." The Supreme Overlord turned to High Prefect Drathul, whose eyes

shot hatefully at the warmaster. "Tell me, Drathul, how these Shamed Ones have

been able to amass the resources necessary for their existence, let  alone  to

undermine my authority."

The High Prefect shifted uneasily. "I can assure you that the  chains  of

supply are being examined as we speak.

We strongly suspect that some of the knowledge required to  divert  these

resources was obtained from a renegade shaper."

Shimrra's look of disdain required no words. "Master  Shaper,"  he  said,

turning next to Yal Phaath. "How do you respond to this claim?"

"Such knowledge did not come from our ranks, I assure you, Supreme  One."

The master shaper locked his grotesquely modified hands nervously in front  of

him. "Our faith lies firmly in you and the gods."

The Supreme Overlord's expression conveyed perfectly what he  thought  of

that assertion.

"Ah, yes: faith." Shimrra turned lastly to  the  high  priest.  Nom  Anor

wished he could freeze the villip choir on the look on Jakan's face.  Watching

the warmaster, high prefect, and master shaper squirm had  been  fine  enough,

but this was even better.

"This heresy undermines the spiritual center of our mighty people, Jakan,

" Shimrra said, looming less than an arm's length away from the  high  priest.

"The gods have every right to be displeased at the lack of faith  we  show  in

them. Your plans to rid us of this treacherous Prophet show a distinct lack of

imagination."

"You may be assured, Supreme One, that retribution  is  at  hand,"  Jakan

pronounced, a slight trembling of his hands the only sign of the terror he was

surely feeling. "Such vile blasphemies will not go unpunished."

"Indeed they will not. Our enemies are flesh and blood, after  all.  They

are nothing to the gods but aberrations." Shimrra  released  the  high  priest

from his stare, and Jakan visibly sagged.

"The question remains, however," said Shimrra, stalking back to  confront

High Prefect Drathul, "how to explain the  spread  of  the  heresy  among  the

higher ranks on Yuuzhan'tar."

Drathul straightened, but remained silent in  the  face  of  the  Supreme

Overlord's piercing stare.

"Perhaps, High Prefect, I am betrayed more profoundly than I  ever  dared

think. Perhaps there is a traitor in my palace, a recruiter for the vile  sect

that swears allegiance to the Jeedai."

Shimrra's voice was  low  and  threatening,  and  the  implications  were

obvious. Every scar on Nom Anor's head tingled to hear it. He had never  hoped

it would come to this. Not against the high prefect himself!

"This poisoned kshirrup dares to purvey the  Prophet's  rot  among  those

closest to me, attempting to turn them against my  will.  The  traitor  steals

secrets, misappropriates resources, tells me lies, holds a weapon to my throat

that I cannot even see. What do you say of that possibility, Drathul?"

The high prefect's name emerged as a low, threatening growl. The audience

craned forward to see what would happen next.

"I think it is a possibility, My Lord," the high prefect said in as  firm

as voice as anyone could muster under the circumstances, "but I assure you-"

"Not another word, Drathul!" Shimrra leaned over the high prefect. "I  am

observant. I hear the whispers; I sense the hidden eyes upon me. I know when I

am being betrayed!"

The roar echoed through the chamber. Drathul visibly flinched at the bile

in the words. Guards appeared from behind the hau polyp  dais,  and  Nom  Anor

felt a keen sense of victory sweep through him. Drathul in the  yargh'un  pit?

So soon?

But instead of closing in on the high prefect, it was  Ngaaluh  whom  the

warriors surrounded. Staring dumbly at the villip  choir,  Nom  Anor  saw  the

blunt, scarred faces closing in, and it took him a long moment to realize what

was happening. It took Ngaaluh just as long, for the

guards were almost upon her before she proclaimed her innocence.

"My Lord? What is this?"

"This is treachery," Shimrra said, turning to face her. His  burning  red

eyes seemed to stare right into Nom Anor's frozen heart.  "  You  should  know

that well enough."

"Supreme One, I swear-"

"Seize her!"

Shimrra strode across from Drathul, growing mightier and more furious  in

the villip choir with every step. The guards  grabbed  Ngaaluh  and  held  her

tightly. To her credit, she didn't struggle, but Nom Anor felt her fear in the

way the villip trembled.

"Your evidence against Prefect Ash'ett was convincing," Shimrra  snarled.

"Against Drosh Khalii and Prefect Zareb it was watertight. Almost too good, in

fact. Wondering, I took the opportunity to question the witnesses you  brought

here, prior  to  their  disposal  in  the  yargh'un  pits.  When  interrogated

properly, they told a very different story."

"No-"

"They were planted  to  deliberately  incriminate  Ash'ett,  Khalii,  and

Zareb, weren't they, Ngaaluh? You are the trusted one who  turns  against  me,

not these innocent intendants!"

Behind Shimrra, High Prefect Drathul's face  glowed  with  a  mixture  of

relief and anger.

"My Lord," he said, "this is inconceivable. Ngaaluh's treachery  explains

much, but for the Prophet to have reached here, into your very court-"

"I did not say anything about the Prophet, High Prefect,"  Shimrra  said,

turning. "This traitor uses the trappings of the heresy to accuse her victims,

but that does not mean that she adheres  to  them  herself."  Shimrra  prowled

across Ngaaluh's field of view. "No. I sense conspiracies within conspiracies,

here. It will take some

time-and no considerable effort-to disentangle the truth from the web  of

lies concealing it."

"I will tell you nothing!" Ngaaluh gasped. The view  through  the  villip

shook as her body spasmed. Nom Anor watched and listened in horror as his  spy

emitted a pained cry, then slumped into the arms of the guards.

There was a commotion. The view shook, and for a moment Nom Anor couldn't

tell what was happening. When the villip was still, faces loomed in close, and

he realized that Ngaaluh was prostrate on the ground, with people bending over

her.

"Poison," one of the guards said.  "I  fear  that  she  has  escaped  us,

Supreme One."

"It doesn't matter." Shimrra's voice was surprisingly calm. "We could not

have trusted the confession of a priestess of deception, even under  the  most

intense interrogation. Her discovery and death is enough to warn the person or

persons she served that we are not fools. We cannot be deceived for long."

"The damage she did can be reversed," High  Prefect  Drathul  said.  "The

lies she told can be rescinded. My intendants' names can be cleared."

"That won't be necessary." Shimrra's reply surprised Nom Anor. " Ash'ett,

Khalii, and Zareb will not be wasted. Already reports of  heresy  are  on  the

increase. Fear of punishment is driving this new purge, and I  would  not  see

that undone. One good thing will come of this fiasco, That is a certainty."

The villip continued to transmit as one of the  guards  kicked  Ngaaluh's

lifeless body.

"What shall we do with this?" he asked.

"The usual." Shimrra's voice was dismissive. "Whether  the  Prophet  sent

her or not, she will serve as a warning to anyone else who  would  attempt  to

spy on me and to sow division in my court. Her hidden master will see that I

am no fool. He will know that it is only a matter of time before  I  find

him, too, and before he shares her fate."

"That time is long overdue," High Prefect Drathul said.

"It will come, faithful servant," the Supreme  Overlord  said.  "It  will

come..."

Shimrra's voice faded into the background as Ngaaluh's  body  was  hauled

unceremoniously from the throne room. Nom Anor couldn't tear his eyes from the

wildly swinging view.  Muffled  grunts  and  the  sounds  of  heavy  footfalls

accompanied  the  morbid  procession  through  the  palace.  There   were   no

exclamations, no questions. A dead body these days was not an unusual sight.

"Master," Kunra said from the shadows, his voice tremulous.

"Be quiet," Nom Anor growled. He wasn't in the mood for  a  conversation.

Ngaaluh was gone, and with her he had lost his best means of enacting his will

on Yuuzhan'tar. Without her, he could no longer observe Shimrra and his court;

nor could he tell what plans the Supreme Overlord was concocting against  him.

The chance to revenge himself on his enemies had slipped through his  fingers,

just when he had felt that he had been on the verge of success.

The rocking of the villip ceased for a moment, and Nom Anor's eyes, which

had been staring blindly at the villip  choir,  registered  the  scene  again.

Ngaaluh was swinging back and forth.  The  guards  were  counting.  When  they

reached "Three!" the world whirled and the body fell.

Ngaaluh and the villip came to rest atop the charnel pit, tilted slightly

to one side. Nom Anor had a perfect view of rotting bodies piled up  in  their

hundreds. Somewhere in there were the pseudo-heretics he  had  sent  to  their

deaths, along with Prefect Ash'ett, Drosh Khalii, and all the faithful who had

been betrayed by Shimrra's

new regime of terror. The boastful Commander Ekh'm Val was in there, too,

faceless and nameless, his dreams of glory shattered.

How long, Nom Anor wondered, until the Prophet himself joined them?

"Nom Anor-"

"I said, be quiet, Kunra." He heard a worried crack  to  his  voice,  but

couldn't hide it. "There is nothing to say."

Together, in silence, they watched the bodies rot.  When  darkness  fell,

the view in the villip choir faded to  black,  but  still  Nom  Anor  watched.

Hypnotized, he could only stare and think.

How long?

He barely heard Kunra leave to attend to the work of the heresy.

How long?...

EPILOGUE

The bridge of Pride of Selonia was the quietest it had been for a  while,

with only a handful of crew members working at stations around where Leia  sat

at the communications console. For the last couple of days it  had  been  kept

busy, along with the Widowmaker, mopping up the stragglers of the Yuuzhan Vong

strike force that had attacked Esfandia. But now that  there  was  a  lull  in

activities, the crew were concentrating on preparing to return to Mon Calamari

for a well-earned break. Millennium Falcon was doing likewise, docked for  the

moment with the  Selonia  while  it  underwent  diagnostic  checks  and  minor

repairs.  Captain  Mayn  had  given  Leia  permission  to  use  the   bridge's

communications facilities to test out the antenna array. While she waited  for

the go-ahead from Commander Ashpidar, she distracted herself by observing  the

planet below on the monitors around her.

From orbit, the gray atmosphere of Esfandia  appeared  unchanged.  Bathed

only by starlight and the occasional drive flash, the planet had absorbed  the

recent injections of thermal energy as a lake would absorb a teaspoon of salt,

returning to its near absolute zero state within a matter of  hours.  Glancing

at it via Pride of Selonia's instruments, Leia hoped the  Brrbrlpp  life-forms

had returned to their normal ways  of  life,  chatting  among  themselves  and

sifting edible motes from the dense air in

which they floated. She wondered how long the stories of the battle  that

had brought bright light to their skies for the first  time  would  circulate,

and whether it would encourage an outward surge in their culture.

"Princess Leia." A voice with as much emotion as a droid crackled out  of

the comm.

Leia put her thoughts to one side. "I'm here, Commander."

"Engineer Gantree has completed her preliminary  checks  of  the  antenna

array and pronounces it ready for a test run," Ashpidar said.

She didn't have to manufacture her relief. "That's  excellent.  Tell  Fan

I'm impressed."

"I shall do so." Even through the wooden tone, Leia thought she  detected

a flicker of pride. "You can commence transmission when you are ready."

"I presume you'll be monitoring it."

"Only to check signal quality and perform further calibrations."

"Understood. Give me twenty seconds."

Leia closed the comm line and activated the transceiver. She  punched  in

the sequence  for  Mon  Calamari.  A  signal  check  came  back  green  almost

immediately. So far, so good, she thought. Next she keyed Cal  Omas's  private

number, vaguely aware that it would have been close to the middle of the night

where he was on the distant water world.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered to herself.

Seconds later, the Chief of State of  the  Galactic  Federation  of  Free

Alliances appeared in the holoprojector.

"Whoever this is," he said, bleary-eyed, "you'd better have a good reason

for calling me on my private number at-"

"What's the matter, Cal? Did I disturb your beauty sleep?"

He blinked back sleep, squinting from the  holodisplay.  "Leia?  Is  that

you?"

"You don't even recognize me?"  Leia  affected  a  hurt  expression.  "It

hasn't been that long, surely?"

"It's not that," he said. "Just the holo is kind of fuzzy. Besides which,

I'm half asleep!"

"I'm sorry to wake you, Cal," she said sincerely, "but  I  figured  you'd

want to know that we've repaired the communications base at Esfandia.  Generis

won't be far behind."

"This couldn't have waited until morning?" Leia smiled. He  was  steadily

waking up, and the grumpiness became more of an act with every passing second.

"I'll bet Grand Admiral Pellaeon doesn't take this long  to  get  himself

together."

"I'll bet the Grand Admiral sleeps in his uniform," Omas  said.  "Why  do

you mention Pellaeon, anyway? Is he there, too?"

"Indeed he is," Leia said. "As are the Ryn." "The Ryn? What have they got

to do with anything?" He sighed, knuckling his eyes. "Maybe  you  should  just

explain from the beginning what's been going  on,  Leia."  "It  could  take  a

while."

"I plan to be back in bed in ten minutes, so  skip  the  exposition,"  he

said. "Is this transmission secure?"

"No. Not at this end, anyway. But what I'm telling  you  isn't  a  secret

here. It's common knowledge."

Leia summarized the Battle of Esfandia in as few sentences  as  possible.

Cal Omas nodded throughout. He didn't interrupt  to  ask  questions,  and  she

admired that in him. A good Chief of State had to trust the judgment of  those

under him-and Cal Omas was turning into a very good Chief of  State.  "So  you

caught the traitor," he said as she neared the

end of the story. "And you repelled the Yuuzhan  Vong.  That's  excellent

work, Leia. Did you ever find out why they didn't want the base  knocked  out?

That's the only thing I don't get out of all this."

"Han and I interrogated Tegg when things settled down. The  best  we  can

work out is that Vorrik gave instructions for Tegg to  send  a  distress  call

from the base, once Ashpidar was out of the way. The distress call would  read

that the base was under attack by Chiss clawcraft - and  would  end  with  the

base being destroyed, for real. We don't think Vorrik would have left us  with

an asset like this intact."

"But you do think he was  continuing  that  wretched  policy  of  setting

neighbors against each other?"

"Sowing confusion and dissent," Leia said, nodding. "Absolutely. It would

have taken us ages to clear up the mess, and who knows what damage might  have

been done? Certainly, given what happened to Luke on Csilla, there are  enough

factions on both sides who don't want us working together. It wouldn't be hard

for a spark like that to create a fire."

"Not this time, though," he said, smiling in approval.  "You've  done  an

excellent job, Leia."

She smiled politely and changed the subject. "Is Mon  Cal  safe  to  come

back to?"

"For now, it is, yes. We've picked up some recon  traffic  on  the  outer

edge of the system, but nothing has tried to get through. There have been only

a few major strikes anywhere, for that matter. Sow thinks they're  regrouping,

building up forces for a big push."

"Just like us."

"Exactly. If you're thinking of coming back to check in, now might  be  a

good time to refresh those pilots of yours."

"Understood," she said.

His face took on a serious cast. "I don't want to risk losing one of  the

best assets I have, Leia. I'd like you here in case we  need  you.  There  are

others I can send to take your place in these communications  hot  spots.  Now

you've identified the problem, it won't be so hard to fix."

"Credit where credit's due, Cal," she said. "The Ryn did this for us, and

got us out of a nasty scrape. I want them accorded the respect they deserve."

"Maybe so, but Gron isn't going to like dealing with them."

"I wouldn't have thought Marrab would be in any position  to  dispute  an

order. After all, his network didn't have a clue as to what was going on.  Nor

did the other spy networks, for that matter."

Omas nodded. "Believe me, Leia, I take your point."

"Good night, Cal," she said, smiling fondly at  him.  "We'll  talk  again

soon."

When he was gone, Leia sank back into the seat, using the quiet moment to

close her eyes and turn to her thoughts. The peace didn't  last  long;  a  few

seconds later the comm unit called for attention with a sharp buzz.

Leia leaned forward, speaking into the  comm.  "Is  that  you,  Commander

Ashpidar?"

"It is, Princess," came the Gotal woman's reply. "Just letting  you  know

that the antenna array performed adequately, but we would like also to test it

in the other direction, away from the Core."

"I might be able to help you there," Leia said. "Give me a second."

Before she could activate the comm again, though, she heard her husband's

voice from behind her. She swiveled around to face him, watching  as  he  made

his way over to her, sidestepping the few  crew  members  working  around  the

bridge.

"There you are," he said, coming over to stand beside her. "Captain  Mayn

said I could find you here."

"Ashpidar has the array working," she said. "We're just testing it out."

He nodded distractedly, as though not really listening.  "Have  you  seen

Droma?"

"Not recently." She thought back. "Did he come up with us when we left he

base?"

"I'm pretty sure he did. But I was also concentrating on  flying  at  the

time, so..." The sentence trailed off into a shrug as he stood and made  again

to leave. "Oh, well, maybe Jaina knows."

"Before you go," Leia said, "I was going to see if I could raise Luke, in

case you're interested."

A familiar smile broke through his look of concern. "Sure, why not. Let's

see how the old farmboy is doing."

Leia tapped in the codes for  Jade  Shadow  and  waited  as  the  network

searched for the ship's distinctive signature out of the many in  the  Unknown

Regions. It took a  lot  longer  than  it  had  to  raise  Mon  Calamari,  but

eventually the face of her sister-in-law appeared in the holodisplay, grinning

broadly.

"Ah, there you are," Mara said, her expression  not  hiding  her  relief.

"Finally paid your bills, did you?"

Elegance Enshrined swooped low out of the trees, emitting a  hooting  cry

that made the leaves and branches shake.  Thousands  of  leaping  insects  and

birds cavorting in the airship's wake, gleaming a thousand  colors,  scattered

wildly, thrown into chaos. Thin-limbed climbers responded with hoots and howls

of their own as they jumped up and down agitatedly.

Saba, safely ensconced in the ship's gondola,  exposed  her  teeth  in  a

smile. The air was full of sound and excitement. The sun was warm,  and  Mobus

bulged high in the sky like an improbably colored balloon.

The hunt was over. Zonama Sekot had agreed to lend

its considerable weight to the war effort. Much was yet  to  be  decided-

particularly how exactly the living planet would contribute-but the essentials

were there. Everything Master Skywalker had set out to do had  been  achieved.

They could finally go home.

Home.

The thought held less bitterness for Saba than it had in previous  weeks.

Despite the obvious differences in climate and topography between Barab I  and

Zonama Sekot, Saba felt comfortable on the living planet. The  air  was  warm,

even when it rained. The constant moisture meant paying frequent attention  to

her scales and claws to ensure no fungal infections took root, but that wasn't

an insurmountable problem. She had  certainly  visited  a  lot  less  inviting

planets in her travels.

Jabitha had made it clear that she could stay if she wanted, for as  long

as she needed. It was an invitation Saba appreciated, and although she  hadn't

decided one way or the other yet, if she was honest with herself, she  had  to

admit that the offer was a tempting one. Zonama would be a good place to spend

time healing-something she hadn't allowed herself to do since the incident  on

Barab I. Not properly, anyway. The hunter in her had not allowed it.  But  she

could understand now that it was important. When she closed her eyes to  think

of her planet, she didn't want to see fires raging across its  face,  but  the

rugged beauty of its once great mountains and valleys.  When  she  slept,  her

dreams shouldn't be haunted by the faces  of  her  people  spilling  from  the

slaveship, but the faces of all the friends and family she'd had while growing

up on Barab I. The time  had  come,  she  decided,  to  stop  remembering  her

homeworld in death, and instead remember it in life.

Not fust hunting the moment, she thought, but hunting the future as well.

"It's beautiful, is it not?" Kroj'b, the airship's companion, came to sit

next her as Elegance Enshrined glided effortlessly toward the landing field.

"This one findz it..." She took her time choosing the word, "Exquizite."

"During the Crossings,  much  of  this  was  destroyed.  The  boras,  the

tampasi, the animals." He swept one hand across the view through  the  gondola

window. Danni, Soron Hegerty, and Tekli listened to the man's words,  although

he directed them to Saba. "It was a terrible time. Many of us hid underground,

in special shelters Sekot grew for us. Darkness covered  the  sky,  and  every

leap through the void made that darkness thicker. The  world  shook  until  we

feared it would crack." Kroj'b's gaze drifted off to somewhere  in  the  past.

"We all lost someone."

"This one iz sorry for your loss."

He smiled toothily in appreciation of her  words  before  continuing.  "I

remember the day the shelters opened for the last time, and the clouds finally

parted. We saw Sanctuary hanging in the sky, and we knew that Sekot was happy.

We'd found our new home at last. There were celebrations  all  around  Zonama:

dancing, fine foods, drinking-so much laughter. It went on  for  a  week,  but

being only a young boy at the time, it seemed to me a lifetime."

"The thought of going back into the shelterz," Saba said, guessing  ahead

to the point of the story, "it worries you?"

He shook his head. "I thought it would, but it doesn't."

"Even though you might never be able to return to Sanctuary?" Danni asked

from the next bench along.

The airship pilot shrugged. "I figure we've had a good run to remain free

of hostilities for as long as we have," he said. "And if Sekot  can  make  the

difference that your

Jedi Master believes, then maybe it won't be for too long, anyway.  Sekot

can win the war for you, and then perhaps we can return here."

"Somehow I don't think it's going to be  that  easy,"  said  Hegerty,  at

Saba's rear.

Another shrug. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"I have to admit," Danni said, "you're a lot calmer about all this than I

expected."

"Yes," Hegerty said. "Certainly more accepting than the  likes  of  Rowel

and Darak."

The burly Ferroan smiled at this. "They'll come around to the  idea,  I'm

sure," he said. "What choice do they have? Sekot has  made  its  decision;  we

must trust in its judgment. If we don't, then perhaps we shouldn't  be  living

here in the first place."

"They're scared," Tekli said. "Most would be after so long of peace."

"I know," Kroj'b said. "But Sekot will protect us. And it won't  be  like

the last time. We've been busy these long years.  We  have  planetary  shields

built into the mountain ranges that  should  keep  things  intact  during  the

jumps, and you've seen how well Sekot can handle  itself  against  an  outside

attack." He shrugged. "What's there to be afraid of?"

The conversation came to an end as Elegance  Enshrined  began  her  final

descent to a stretch of wide grasslands. Saba saw Master Skywalker  and  Jacen

Solo standing with Jabitha and  Sekot's  Vergere  persona  near  Jade  Shadow.

Preparations for the journey would begin as soon as the visitors relocated  to

another community in the region called Middle Distance. There was  still  much

to organize and decide,  but  Saba  was  confident  that  the  most  important

decisions were now behind them. All that remained was to do.

Elegance dropped the last ten meters with a stomach-

wrenching lurch. Saba and the others held on for balance  until,  seconds

later, the tall grass of the field was brushing the underside of the  gondola.

Then they came to a halt, with the  airship's  body  above  them  rippling  in

strange and hypnotic undulations.

As the others climbed down the ladder to  the  ground,  Saba  held  back,

staring at the tranquil setting around her. It was green and lush, and the air

was both rich and invigorating. Zonama Sekot was indeed a  seductive  tempter.

But she cautioned herself not to become too enamored  of  the  living  planet.

Beautiful though it was, it held life and death in  the  same  proportions  as

everywhere else. Its surface teemed with tiny tragedies. It  wasn't  an  oasis

from the evils of the universe, by any means. The only thing  its  controlling

intelligence had done was give it purpose and attempt to make it safe from the

outside. Nothing more. Sekot-who  had  more  than  adequately  demonstrated  a

capacity to be cruel-was the epitome of nature itself.

Jacen told it not to fight, Saba reminded herself, but still it comes. Is

that the action of a peace-loving intelligence? Or is it the next step in  its

evolution-from easy prey to hunter?

She shook her head. The concept was too big for her to  deal  with  right

now. It would have to wait  for  another  time-for  the  future,  perhaps,  to

reveal.

She clambered over the side of the gondola and  made  her  way  down  the

creaking  vine  ladder.  When  her  feet  touched  the  ground,  she  felt  an

overwhelming sense of completion. Her hunt was over. She had acquitted herself

and brought honor to the memory of her people. Whatever fate had in store  for

her now, she was confident she was ready to deal with it.

Jaina fumed as Pride of Selonia's  chief  medical  officer  examined  her

skull with his long fingers. It seemed to be

taking forever, and was made all  the  more  irritating  because  of  the

humming noise he made while doing it. Jaina endured it  for  as  long  as  she

could before pulling away.

"Come on, Doc, can't you just give me a  straight  answer?  "  she  said,

looking up into his large red eyes. "Are you going to let me fly  or  not?  My

foot is completely healed."

Dantos Vigos turned away to make some notes in her case file.  "One  more

day."

"What difference is that going to make?" she objected. "I'm either  ready

or I'm not."

"Then you're not," Vigos said. The red eyes turned back  to  her.  "Look,

Colonel Solo, I can understand your eagerness to get back  to  your  squadron.

But I cannot in good conscience give you the okay to return to duty until your

balance has fully returned to normal."

Vigos offered a smile, and Jaina was forced to concede the argument.  She

knew he was right. After the knock to the head she'd received on Esfandia, her

sense of balance hadn't been  entirely  perfect.  That  very  morning  in  the

Selonia's corridor, the deck had bobbed beneath  her  feet  when  she'd  least

expected it, and she had completely lost her sense of direction.

"Okay," she said with poor  grace.  "But  I'll  be  back  the  same  time

tomorrow."

Vigos nodded his leathery head. "Until then, Colonel Solo..."

Jaina left the examination room and headed back to the squadron barracks,

grumbling all the way about the injustice of the situation.  Her  mood  wasn't

helped any when she got to the squad room to find it empty. Everyone else,  it

seemed, was out on patrol or helping the Imperials clean up  the  skies  above

Esfandia. There was an awful lot of debris  floating  around,  any  amount  of

which could plummet to the planet below and damage

the  newly  repaired  antenna  array-not  to   mention   disrupting   the

environment. Now that the  Galactic  Alliance  knew  the  isolated  world  was

inhabited, extra steps were being taken to ensure that  the  inhabitants  were

left in peace.

She took a seat and watched the cleanup operation  on  the  monitors  for

half an hour or so, occasionally offering suggestions but trying  as  hard  as

she could to stay out of Jag's way. He was perfectly capable  of  running  the

squadron without her, and she knew she shouldn't interfere.  As  the  orbiting

garbage dump slowly took shape, though, swelling in size to resemble  a  large

and craggy asteroid, she couldn't resist buzzing Jag to suggest that they name

it "Vorrik's Folly" in honor of the Yuuzhan Vong  commander  who'd  given  his

life to help create it.

So absorbed was she in her observance of her squadron's  activities  that

she didn't even notice when the door behind her opened and someone stepped in.

"Is this a bad time?"

Startled, Jaina jumped from her seat and turned toward the voice.

"Hello, Tahiri."

The younger woman smiled as she stepped closer. Her pale yellow hair  was

much shorter than it used to be, and she  wore  her  active-duty  combat  suit

everywhere she went, sealed right up to the neck. She was even wearing  shoes,

which took a bit of getting used to for Jaina. She didn't know if the girl was

attempting to hide her scars with the outfit, or if her  combined  personality

simply liked the uniform.  Either  way,  it  made  a  distinctive  sight.  Her

expression, even behind a smile, was guarded and  full  of  concentration,  as

though she were feeling her way blind through a very different culture.

Perhaps that's exactly what was happening, Jaina thought. The old  Tahiri

would have found everything fa-

miliar, while Riina would be seeing it all for the first time. There  was

no longer any separation between the two personalities, but  the  new  persona

possessed both at the same time. It would be like the opposite of deja vu, she

imagined.

"What can I do for you?" she asked. "I wanted to talk," Tahiri said.  "If

you have time." Jaina returned to her seat. "It's not as  if  my  schedule  is

filled at the moment."

Tahiri picked a chair opposite where Jaina had been sitting  and  perched

herself on the edge. All her energy was contained and  focused.  It  made  her

seem very mature, despite her youthful  appearance.  Her  reopened  scars  had

healed into cold, white lines. "I came to say that I am sorry,"  Tahiri  said,

Jaina frowned. "For what?"

"There are many reasons. I wish it known that I regret the  hardship  you

went through on my behalf. And I'm sorry, mainly, that they chose you."

Jaina shook her head, confused. "Chose me? Who chose me? For what?"

"They came to you on Mon Calamari. The old me  and  Riina  had  different

reasons, but they both chose you. If anyone could help them, it was  going  to

be you."

Jaina fought the conceptual  complication  of  Tahiri  referring  to  her

previous selves as  though  they  were  completely  separate  identities,  and

concentrated instead on what she was trying to say.

"I remember when the old Tahiri called me," she said. "She thought Anakin

was trying to kill her. Was that Riina talking?"

Tahiri nodded. "Partly-but it was also me, for I  was  still  plagued  by

guilt. The old me felt as  though  she  had  abandoned  Anakin  by  moving  on

emotionally with her life. She believed she should have done more for him-

or perhaps even died with him." There were tears  in  the  young  woman's

eyes, but all other emotions were carefully contained. "We were on  the  brink

of mental collapse, sharing one body, some memories, and  little  personality.

Neither wanted the other to survive, but I think Riina knew first what had  to

be done. Without merging, both would have died, or lost  what  sanity  we  had

left. As our fragile equilibrium crumbled around us, we threw ourselves at the

only person who could help us, trusting her to do what was right, even if  she

didn't know at the time what that was."

"I think I'm beginning to understand," Jaina said soberly.

"You reminded us of Anakin, Jaina," Tahiri went on. "You were his sister,

and are like him in many ways. We felt we could trust you. We felt  sure  that

you would be there for us should we have needed you."

"To end it?"

"Or to rescue us. Either way." Tahiri's expression was grave. "I, the new

Tahiri, the person who has inherited everything those two  were,  am  grateful

they-we-did choose you. I shall always be in your debt, Jaina,  for  what  you

did for us."

Tahiri lowered her head, and Jaina fought to find a way  to  lighten  the

situation. She'd seen what debts did to people.

"Listen," she said, "it's really no big deal. Anyone would have done what

I did."

Tahiri stood, and nodded once respectfully. "Thank you  for  your  words,

Jaina-and thank you for hearing mine."

Jaina studied the young woman before her, wondering exactly who this  new

person was and how she would turn out. There seemed so little left of the girl

who once occupied the body.

"Tahiri," she said as the girl made to leave. Tahiri  stopped  and  faced

her. "I just want you to know that,  although  you've  obviously  changed,  my

feelings for you haven't. I still regard you as a friend."

Something shifted behind Tahiri's cool green eyes, and for a moment Jaina

thought she might smile.

There was a noise in the doorway, and they both turned to  see  Han  walk

into the room.

Jaina stood. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"What-a father can't come and visit his sick daughter?"

"I'm not sick!"

"Grounded, then. Same thing, right?" Han's smile was wide,  enjoying  the

game.

She smiled in return. "Whatever. What's up, anyway?"

"I was wondering if you happen to know where Droma might be. I can't seem

to find him anywhere."

"He came offworld with us," she said, "but I don't remember what happened

to him after we docked. What about you, Tahiri? Have you-?"

Her question went no farther, as Tahiri was no longer in the squad  room.

Jaina assumed that she had slipped out as soon as  Jaina's  father  had  begun

talking.

Her father's expression mirrored her own surprise.  "She  can  sure  move

quietly when she wants to," he said.  Then,  with  a  little  awkwardness,  he

added, "Is she-?"

"She's fine, Dad," Jaina cut in, anticipating her father's concern.

He nodded, accepting Jaina's reassurance. "I  guess  I'm  still  kind  of

nervy when it comes to the Yuuzhan Vong."

"I understand, Dad," she said. "Really, I do. But Tahiri just needs  time

to settle in." Then, returning them to the  original  topic,  she  said,  "You

might want to check with the Selonia to see if they know where Droma might be.

Someone's bound to have noticed him about the place somewhere."

Her father chuckled. "Are you kidding? We're talking about  a  Ryn  here,

remember? They're the most ignored beings in the  galaxy.  That's  what  makes

them such good spies." He shrugged. "But I guess it couldn't hurt."

"What's Mom up to, anyway?"

"Up on the Selonia's bridge, helping test the antenna array."

"Maybe I'll join her; see if she'd like some help."

Her father's smile was wry as he said, "You really must be bored."

"No one at all?" Grand Admiral Pellaeon stared at the  image  of  Captain

Mayn of Pride of Selonia with undisguised surprise. "There must be someone  in

charge."

"You have to remember that this isn't a fleet as you and I are used  to,"

Mayn said. "It's not much more than a group of individuals  working  together-

albeit a large group. There's not much organization to them as far  as  I  can

see, and that's reflected in the way they're dispersing.  They're  not  moving

out en masse, but in dribs and drabs, when they feel like leaving."

"So who's giving the orders?" Pellaeon asked.

"Most of the ones I've spoken to have said they  receive  orders  through

unusual means," she said. "None of them  knew  about  the  others  until  they

assembled at the rendezvous where they  awaited  your  signal.  Most  of  them

hadn't even heard of any Ryn network as such until we explained what we  knew.

As far as they're concerned, they're just returning a favor  someone  did  for

them, sometime in the last year. They seem as much in the dark about it all as

we are."

The whole concept mystified the Grand Admiral, and yet at the  same  time

he couldn't help but be impressed by the  way  the  Ryn  worked.  It  was  the

loosest possible cell system in action: every active member of the Ryn net-

work was in contact with only two or three  immediately  nearby,  but  no

more; that way, there was no chance of anyone following  the  trail  from  the

bottom to the top. But there had to be a top-or at least a genesis point. They

had to have come from somewhere.

"Well, we owe them a favor now," he said.

"So it would seem," Captain Mayn said. "I guess that's the whole idea."

Pellaeon nodded. "Not only  are  these  people  keeping  tabs  on  what's

happening in the black spots of the galaxy, but they're helping knit them back

together again, too."

"There's nothing like fighting side by side  to  create  a  bond  between

perfect strangers."

"Even old enemies," Pellaeon said with a half smile.

"I have to admit, Admiral, that at first I was... wary of you. I felt you

might be hiding something from us." Mayn paused. " I just want to say  that  I

hope you can forgive my suspicions. It's hard at times to shake the habit of a

lifetime."

Pellaeon's smile widened. "I don't mind what people think of me, Captain,

as long as they obey orders."

"I'll happily follow orders, sir, so long as they're good ones."

Pellaeon barked out a laugh. "It's been a pleasure working  with  you.  I

hope this isn't the last time we serve together."

"I'm sure we'll serve together again, Admiral. There are still plenty  of

battles out there left to fight." Pellaeon's mustache twitched.

"I have visited many systems in my travels," said the image  of  Vergere.

"And of the cultures that inhabited them,  none  have  I  seen  that  did  not

embrace hostilities to some degree or another."

Luke listened carefully to  what  Sekot  was  saying  even  as  his  gaze

remained fixed on the spectacle of the airship descending to  the  grasslands.

He could see the hide of the giant creature rippling as  she  slid  gracefully

through the air. Her entire body flexed, bringing her and her passengers to  a

near-perfect halt less than a meter above the

ground.

"I have seen battles engulf  cities,  and  sometimes  entire  countries,"

Sekot went on. "There have even been  conflicts  that  have  extended  between

worlds. It is almost as though the desire for war has  spread  like  a  plague

through the life-forms of this galaxy."

"Not  all  sentient  life  desires  war,"  Luke  said,  watching  as  the

passengers disembarked from the gondola.  "The  Jedi  dedicate  their  efforts

toward peace."

" From what I have seen, peace does not seem to be the natural  state  of

the universe," Sekot said.

Luke turned at this to face  Sekot.  "It  surprises  me  that  one  who's

supposed to be as in touch with the living Force as yourself would think  this

way."

"As it surprises me that one as small as yourself would presume  to  have

such insight into the living Force's moral

bent."

Luke faced the image fully now, smiling. "On  the  first  night  we  came

here, Jabitha said something similar to my nephew." The Magister looked up  at

his words, but didn't interrupt. "She became indignant that Jacen should  dare

speak for the living Force. The implication was that someone so small  in  the

great cosmos shouldn't dare presume to speak for such a  powerful  thing.  But

the fact is, the living  Force  can  choose  anyone  it  wants.  Size  is  not

important. Master Yoda was smaller than anyone here, yet  he  was  the  wisest

person I ever met-as well as one of the most powerful  Jedi  Masters  to  ever

live. You possess a power, Sekot, that is beyond the imagining of virtually

all sentient beings,  but  that  doesn't  automatically  mean  that  your

connection to the Force is greater."

The image of Vergere indicated approval with a smile and a nod.

"You are wise, Master Skywalker," Sekot said. "I think  in  the  days  to

come, you will supply many answers to the questions I still have regarding the

Force."

"This is the beginning of a long journey for us all," Luke returned. " By

its end, I think we will have learned much from each other." Then, facing  the

Magister, he asked, "How are preparations coming along, Jabitha?"

"Preparations are well under way for our departure," she said. "The  last

three days have seen many changes around Zonama."

"Or not seen," Jacen said, referring to the intense  electrical  activity

that had obscured many locations around the planet's equator.

Jabitha laughed. She and Sekot seemed to have taken  quite  a  liking  to

Luke's nephew.

"Had you wished to know what we were up to," she said, "then you had  but

to ask."

"That's okay," Jacen said.  "I  have  a  feeling  that  I  wouldn't  have

understood half of what you were saying, anyway."

Before anyone could reply, the others had joined  them.  Saba's  muscular

tail made swishing noises in the grass. Hegerty was holding a satchel full  of

what appeared to be Ferroan artifacts, judging by the bits and pieces sticking

out of it. Tekli's fur was bristling in the gentle breeze, and Danni moved  to

stand near Jacen, still slightly wary of their Ferroan escort.

Darak and Rowel were being much more civilized to their guests  now  that

Sekot had officially embraced them. Not only had they volunteered to take  the

four not actively involved in discussions of the future on a tour of

the  neighboring  countryside,  but   they'd   made   sure   that   their

accommodations were more than adequate, almost opulent,  and  that  they  were

treated with deference. It marked a dramatic shift in their relations with the

natives, and Luke wondered sometimes whether it was simply  a  case  of  being

told by Sekot to be polite, or if there might be more subtle forces  at  work.

Perhaps living in the life energies of a planet-sized mind put  them  more  in

tune with its thoughts than they realized. Certainly there was no sign of  the

hostility that had originally greeted the Jedi landing party. Even Senshi  had

reverted to being  friendly,  having  been  set  free  of  Sekot's  persuasive

influence.

"We went to ruins," Danni told Jacen.

"It's incredible," Hegerty said excitedly. "You  won't  believe  what  we

found!"

Luke found himself smiling at the gray-haired scientist's enthusiasm, but

only half listened to what she had to  say  about  indigenous  species  versus

those introduced by the Ferroans. He couldn't blame her  for  her  excitement;

after all, Zonama Sekot was a world filled with  secrets  and  mysteries  just

waiting to be discovered. It would  have  been  a  dream  come  true  for  any

scientist...

"Luke!" Mara's voice broke across his thoughts, and he turned to see  her

approaching through the tall grass.

"All systems go?" he asked.

"Better than that," she said. "We have contact with Mon Calamari again."

Luke didn't hesitate. Excusing himself from the group,  he  hurried  with

his wife back to Jade Shadow with Jacen close behind.  Being  out  of  contact

with the rest of the galaxy hadn't sat comfortably with  him  the  whole  time

they'd been on Zonama Sekot. Who knew what had happened to the  war?  To  Leia

and Han? Or to Ben?

R2-D2 whistled reassuringly as he hurried past to the

cockpit. In the holoprojector flickered the long,  aristocratic  face  of

Kenth Hamner. His mouth was moving, but there was no sound.

"I didn't say it was perfect," Mara said, sitting at the pilot's  station

and fiddling with the controls. "We're getting a data feed, though.  It  looks

like nothing drastic has gone wrong while we've been out of touch."

Luke skimmed through lines of text scrolling down a screen behind Hamner,

who had stopped talking, obviously realizing that he wasn't being heard.  Luke

smiled and nodded to indicate that things were going well at  his  end.  There

was little more he could do.

"Wait a second," Mara said, "we seem to have a message coming through  on

a separate channel." The picture fuzzed out, and was replaced by one that  was

much crisper-one that caused Mara to smile broadly. "Ah, there you  are,"  she

said to the image of Leia. "Finally paid your bills, did you?"

Jacen leaned forward over Mara's shoulder. "Mom!"  Luke's  sister  smiled

with relief at the sight of her son. "Hello, Jacen."

Jacen  frowned.  "Since  when  did  the  Falcon  get  outfitted  with   a

holographic array?"

"Since never," came the reply from his  father,  leaning  in  past  Leia.

"We're on the Selonia at the moment. How are things going there?"

"They're okay now," Jacen said. "But  with  communications  down,  I  was

starting to get worried."

"Yeah," Han said. "Sorry about that. The Vong have been keeping us busy."

"They took out the communications relay bases at Generis  and  Esfandia,"

Leia explained. "We've just gotten Esfandia up  and  running  again,  but  Fan

Gantree, the engineer here, is still trying to repair  the  damage.  It'll  be

awhile yet before communications are back to optimal."

"Why would the relay bases be targeted?" Mara  asked.  "It's  not  as  if

they're major communications nodes in our war effort."

" I think the Yuuzhan Vong are trying to come between us and the  Unknown

Regions," Leia said. "Maybe to keep us and  the  Chiss  from  joining  against

them."

"That might be part of it," Luke said.

"Jacen!" Han said. His crooked smile couldn't  hide  a  parent's  joy  at

seeing his son alive and well. "How about you,  kid?  You  been  keeping  your

uncle and aunt on their toes?"

"Always." Luke felt Jacen's hand squeeze his shoulder. "How's Jaina?"

"She got a bit of a bump on her head, but apart from that she's fine."

"And Jag?"

"Busy overseeing our new allies," Leia said.

"You should see these guys." Han put in, "No  two  ships  are  the  same,

there's no central command..." Han shook his head disbelievingly. "It's crazy.

"

"Who are you talking about?" Mara asked, frowning.

"The Ryn," Leia said. Then, with a brief shake of her  head,  she  added,

"It's a long story. But they're friends, and they made a  difference  when  it

counted. We're glad to have them aboard."

"What about Danni?" Han asked. "How's she doing?"

"She'll be okay," Jacen said. "Everyone's fine. We all love it here. It's

going to be hard to leave."

"Where's here, exactly?"

"Zonama Sekot," Jacen said, beaming widely.

"You found it?" Leia looked aggrieved that  it  wasn't  the  first  thing

she'd been told. "Why didn't you say so before, Mara?"

"I thought I'd let Luke have the honor."

Mara smiled up at Luke, and a surge of excitement ran through him at  the

implication of this-something that

up until now he hadn't had a  chance  to  fully  appreciate.  He  nodded,

smiling. "We really did find it. Against the odds."

"Is it everything you hoped it would be, Jacen?" Han asked.

"It's beautiful, Dad-and more powerful  than  we  dared  imagine.  It's-"

Jacen hesitated, trying to find the right words.

Luke could understand his nephew's difficulty with this. How did you  put

into words all that the living world represented? Or the impact of standing on

its soil, embraced by its life force?

"It's wonderful," Jacen said finally.

"But is it coming back with you?" Leia asked,  with  an  expression  that

suggested she was afraid of the answer.

"It'll be ready to leave in about a week," Luke said. "I figured we might

as well stay until then to work out a few of its mysteries."

"Congratulations, to all of you," Leia said. "That's the best  news  I've

heard for months."

The image flickered, then strengthened.

"Sorry about that," Leia said. "We're still fine-tuning  here.  We  might

have to cut this short so they can recalibrate the antennas."

Sad though he was to  bring  the  communication  to  an  end,  Luke  felt

profoundly reassured on one level. His family and home were safe.  Leia  would

have mentioned if there was anything wrong with Ben or if the  Maw  was  under

threat. When the antennas were fixed properly, he would patch through  to  his

son's safe refuge and do his best to catch up.

And when the war was over, he promised himself he would make up  for  the

time he'd lost with his son. He knew what it was like to grow up  without  his

father; he didn't want Ben to go through the same thing.

"What about Tahiri?" Jacen asked, a note  of  seriousness  dampening  his

otherwise buoyant tone. "How is she?"

Han and Leia exchanged a glance. "That's a little hard to explain,  too,"

Leia said.

"She's... changed," Han said.

"For the better?" Jacen asked grimly.

Leia nodded. "She's still finding out who she is, but I'm sure she'll get

there."

"What name did she choose?" Luke asked.

"She still calls herself Tahiri, but-" Leia stopped  suddenly,  her  eyes

narrowing as she studied her brother. "Don't tell me you knew what  was  going

to happen to her."

"I suspected," Luke said. "I thought she just needed time to work  things

out-and the opportunity to prove herself."

"Well, she's certainly done that," Leia said.

Relief washed through him at the news. "Then all's well that ends well, I

guess."

"Seems so," Han said. "We're heading back to Mon Cal  now  to  refit  and

check in with our esteemed leader. He might have new orders for us."

"And the Ryn have to be integrated into the intelligence  network,"  Leia

said. "I don't know how our usual spies are going to react to working with the

likes of our new friends, but I'm sure we can bring them around."

"Travel safely," Luke said. "And we'll see you at Mon Cal within the next

couple of weeks."

Leia nodded. "May the Force be with you, Luke."

The hologram flickered and died entirely.

"And you, sister," he mumbled to where Leia's image  had  been  a  moment

earlier.

He sat silent for a long while, holding Mara's hand  and  thinking  about

his family, scattered in so many di-

rections across the galaxy. One day, hopefully, he'd see them reunited in

peaceful times-if everything went well with Zonama Sekot.

"One step at a time," Mara said, as though reading his mind.

Perhaps she was, he thought. Sometimes it seemed to him that  his  wife's

green eyes could see right into his soul.

"The journey is changing us, Mara," he said. "We're not the  same  people

we were when we set out."

"But that's life, my love," she said. "Without change,  then  we  may  as

well be dead."

Luke smiled, feeling himself filled with the  warmth  of  her  affection.

There were so many things he wanted to experience in the future,  and  all  of

them were with her. All they had to do was fix the problem of the Yuuzhan Vong

and everything else, he was sure, would fall into place.

"Jacen, would you-?"

Luke turned to ask his nephew to make  sure  Sekot  and  Jabitha  weren't

growing restless outside the ship, but Jacen was already gone.

"Do you think we embarrass him?" Luke said.

"Maybe," she said. "Or maybe he's just jealous of what we have together."

Luke was silent for a moment. "Somehow, I don't think so."

Danni was talking to the young Ferroan girl, Tescia, under the eaves of a

looming boras. The afternoon sun made the air heavy  with  heat,  but  in  the

shade it was almost cool. There was a pregnancy to the undergrowth, as  though

it might part at any moment to reveal some strange new form of life.

Jacen paused to lean on a root elbowing out  of  the  ground  nearby  and

listened in.

"And then," the Ferroan child was saying, "I want  to  see  where  Anakin

came from, and Obi-Wan."

"You mean Coruscant?" Danni asked,  glancing  at  Jacen  and  offering  a

fleeting smile before returning her attention to the girl.

"Yes," Tescia said. "It must be the most amazing place!"

"It was," Danni said. "I don't know what it looks like now."

"We'll go there," Tescia said. "We'll go there and get  rid  of  the  Far

Outsiders and rebuild the world of cities."

"I hope you're right, Tescia." Danni smoothed a stray lock of golden hair

from the girl's forehead. "I really hope you are."

The girl smiled up at her new friend, and together they  discussed  where

they'd visit first, when Coruscant was safe again.

Is this the planet speaking, Jacen wondered as he  listened,  or  a  girl

brought up on stories of far-off places she never dreamed she would see?

Whatever the source of the urge, Jacen wondered  where  he  would  go  if

Zonama Sekot helped the Galactic Alliance return peace to  the  galaxy.  There

was no easy answer. His memories of Coruscant were a mess  of  good  and  bad,

spanning his entire life. Part of him was tempted  to  encourage  the  tearing

down of the city-planet from skyhook to deepest basement,  so  that  something

new could be built in its place, but who would decide  what  should  take  its

place? Who deserved that responsibility?

Jacen was distracted by a low chuckle coming  from  the  undergrowth.  He

looked up to see the image of Vergere standing near him, her  feathery  fringe

dancing in a virtual breeze.

"Things come and go, Jacen Solo," Sekot said. "We both know that."

"Are you  reading  my  mind?"  he  asked.  "Perhaps.  You  still  wonder,

sometimes, why I woke you first when you arrived here. This,  and  many  other

things, you will understand in time."

He stared at his hands for a moment. "I wish you wouldn't appear to me in

that form. I find it disconcerting." "Like this, then?" asked  the  child  who

would one day become Darth Vader.

He met the disturbingly blue stare of his grandfather as directly  as  he

could. "Why do you have to take on any form? Why can't you  just  be  who  you

are?"

"Because you  couldn't  begin  to  comprehend  who  I  am,"  Sekot  said,

returning to the image of Vergere. "There are limits  to  your  understanding-

just as there are limits to mine. Mine, however, are  an  order  of  magnitude

removed from yours. Take no offense, Jacen Solo, but my talking to you now  is

like you talking to a dust mite that crawled across your skin. Do you  believe

that such a mite could understand you if you were to speak to it normally?  Do

you think you would even hear a reply if you listened with your normal  ears?"

Sekot shook Vergere's head in answer to its own question. "Of course  not.  In

order to communicate between such diverse scales of  existence,  one  or  both

sides must change. For the moment, I am prepared to make that change."

"Only for the moment?" Jacen repeated.

"We'll see what the future holds." Sekot's expression was concerned,  not

threatening, yet Jacen felt distinctly unsettled  by  the  conversation.  What

were they getting themselves  into?  They  were  bargaining  with  a  creature

literally beyond their comprehension. Who knew what its motives or goals were?

Or whether it had some hidden agenda?...

"Do you know what it is I crave?" said  the  living  planet  through  the

image of Vergere.

Jacen shrugged. "Peace? Knowledge? A clear conscience?"

"All those things are required for a good life. And all of  them  have  a

price."

"That's what you want, then? To pay the price and earn a good life?"

Sekot smiled with Vergere's face. "I think that's what we all want, Jacen

Solo."

With those few words, Sekot slowly melted away, and Jacen was left  alone

to ponder them.

Tahiri was in one of the Selonia's empty holds,  exercising.  She  wasn't

hiding as such, but was definitely trying to keep out of the way. It gave  her

an excuse to work on her technique. Since merging the two halves of her  self,

she'd been struggling to assimilate more than just ways  of  thought,  speech,

and being. The old Tahiri and Riina had fought in very different ways, and she

needed to refine the techniques so she could more effectively incorporate both

the next time she had to go into combat.

As she sparred with shadows, tossing her lightsaber from hand to hand and

kicking  powerfully,  leaping  gracefully,  striking  the  air  with  unerring

accuracy, her mind kept a ceaseless running commentary: Jedi Force leap, asth-

korr throat hold, Sand People high kick, Kwaad double punch...

"Why'd you let him go?"

The voice came from behind her and echoed through the hold. Tahiri didn't

break her rhythm even for a moment. She'd known he was coming  twenty  seconds

before he appeared in the entrance.

She performed one last fluid leap and landed firmly  on  both  feet,  her

body now fully facing Han Solo. Tahiri extinguished her lightsaber,  returning

the pommel to her belt. She walked casually toward Han.

"Let who go?" she asked, even though she knew who he was referring to.

"Droma!" Han's voice was thick with frustration. "I was  getting  worried

because I hadn't heard from him since we docked, so I started  asking  around.

Captain Mayn told me that a Ryn ship called Fortune Seeker docked briefly with

the Selonia not long ago, and now Jag informs me that Twin Suns escorted  that

ship to its hyperspace jump point. He didn't know whether or not Droma was  on

board, of course, but I'm guessing that you do-seeing as you were the one  who

requested the escort for the ship in the first place. So I'll ask  you  again:

why did you let him go?"

Tahiri offered a slight shrug. "Because he asked me to."

Han took two steps into the room. His expression was  clouded-hurt,  too,

although he would never admit to that. He would claim that  he  was  angry  at

having been deceived. But really, there had been no deception. He just  hadn't

been told.

"Why you?" Han asked. "Why wouldn't he talk to me?"

That was the core of it, she knew. He was transparent to her.  She  could

see through his reserve with the cold clarity of an alien warrior and read his

innermost thoughts with the sensitivity of a Jedi. She felt for  him,  in  her

own way.

"Because he knew you would ask questions," she said. "You're too  much  a

part of the system he is trying to work around. There  can  be  only  so  much

overlap before the members of the Ryn network lose the thing that  makes  them

special and become like you: blind in subtle ways, vulnerable when  you  can't

afford to be. For now, you and he must stand apart-until the  day  that  peace

comes."

Han shook his head. "Droma wasn't a part of that network. They turned him

down."

She smiled at his naivete. "Do you remember Onadax?"

"Onadax? What's that got to-?"

"Droma gave me a message to give to you," she cut in smoothly.  "He  said

to tell you that he hopes your timing's better next time. And  that  he  still

doesn't want your money."

"Timing? Money?" Confusion quickly became  realization.  "The  creep  who

interrogated me at that bar! That was Droma'?"

She didn't take any pleasure in the way Han had been fooled.

"He encouraged the riot on Onadax to cover  your  getaway-and  his,  too.

He'd been running the Ryn network through that operation,  the  bar,  for  six

months. That was about three months longer than he would have liked, he  said,

but it was necessary to take that  much  time  to  make  sure  everything  was

running properly; once he was sure it was, he could move on. When  you're  the

head of such a secretive organization, he said, you don't want  to  sit  still

too long. Their strength lies in their-"

"Wait a minute," Han said, shaking his head in bewilderment. "The head of

the organization? Droma? The Ryn?"

"It makes sense if you think about it. Your involvement with him gave him

a very high standing with all the Ryn. His species has been leaderless  for  a

very long time-not that they want what we  would  traditionally  regard  as  a

leader.  They're  nomads,  born  to  be  wanderers  and  therefore   endlessly

exploited. They're expected to wander all over the  galaxy,  so  few  security

people will stop them, beyond the usual harassment. And if  someone  sees  Ryn

working, they'll  usually  leave  them  alone.  The  Ryn  go  everywhere,  see

everything, and talk endlessly to each  other  by  notes,  songs,  and  rumors

carried by trading ships. They're frequent  stowaways,  so  few  people  would

become suspicious at finding Ryn where they

weren't meant to be." She shrugged. "What he's done  is  take  what  most

people regard as being the Ryn's weaknesses and turned them into strengths."

"Who'd have thought?" Han mused with a smile curling one  corner  of  his

mouth. She nodded.

Han shook his head, losing the smile. "I still don't  understand  why  he

had to leave so soon. Or why he couldn't tell me all this himself."

She faced his incomprehension squarely. "The more people who  know  about

him and his Ryn network, the greater the  risk  he  runs.  The  less  evidence

exists that he runs the whole thing, the safer he becomes.  His  family  won't

betray him, and neither will you, but there  are  people  farther  removed  he

can't necessarily trust. The Ryn have learned the hard way not to place  their

faith in strangers."

"And what about you?" Han said. "I'd have thought  you  were  more  of  a

stranger to him than me."

"Given the reports he'd received from Goure on Bakura, as well as the Ryn

on Galantos, Droma offered to adopt me into the movement."

"The fact that you're telling me this now suggests you didn't accept  his

offer."

She shook her head. "I was tempted, briefly, but I  decided  against  it.

For the moment, anyway."

The truth was, it was too early to decide what she was going to  do  with

herself. She was no longer trying to walk two divergent paths  simultaneously,

tearing herself apart in the process; she was finally walking  the  one  path,

and she enjoyed the idea of continuing down that path until  she  figured  out

just what she wanted to do - no matter how long that took.

With a sigh, Han's hurt softened and became disappointment.  "I  would've

liked the chance to tell him how good it was to see him again. You know?"

"I do know," she said. "And so did he."

"I don't like the idea of not saying good-bye to my friends.  These  days

you can't be sure that you're ever going to see them again."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," she said. "You'll see Droma

again. Maybe sooner than you think."

Han's smile returned, then. He didn't look convinced by Tahiri's words of

comfort, but he clearly appreciated them.

"Thanks, Tahiri," he said.

"All wounds heal with time," she said. The words rang with a  truth  that

made her shiver. After so long, she  could  finally  say  them  with  absolute

conviction. "All guilt fades, and opposites become one."

"Is that so?" he said with a perceptive look.  "Perhaps  you  should  try

telling that to the people who made you like this."

She thought about this as she watched Han walk out of the room and return

to his ship. Yun-Yammka, the Slayer, hung around her neck in the form  of  the

small silver pendant that she had found on Galantos, It held  no  significance

for her now at all, except as a symbol.  It  served  as  a  reminder-sometimes

grim, more often triumphant-of everything she had endured  while  finding  her

new self.

Maybe I will tell them, she thought when Han had gone. Maybe I will...