Star Wars The New Jedi Order - Agents of Chaos II - Jedi Eclipse - Book 5

by James Luceno

  Servants, attaches, and staffers had decamped, including Golga's charge d'affaires. Suppliers had refused to deliver food and other needed supplies. Coruscant Energy had engineered power failures, and Coruscant Water had so reduced the flow that daily bathing in the penthouse's converted fountain had become impossible. The number of bomb threats exceeded one hundred, though no devices had been discovered, and on the HoloNet rumors flew fast and furious, accusing the Hutts of everything from treason to sabotage, with many calling for the arrest of all Hutts, and some advocating a declaration of war.

  Even now a mixed-species crowd was assembled on the observation balcony of the tower across the city canyon, chanting for retribution, throwing fists in the air, and appealing to the ceaseless flow of air traffic with huge and multicolored Hutt-condemning holoplacards. Early on, Golga had tolerated the strident gatherings, but he had since ordered the transparisteel windows curtained so he wouldn't have to be greeted by the sight of demonstrators each time he entered the chamber.

  Soon, in any case, the angry crowds would be nothing more than an unpleasant memory. He would be on his way to Nal Hutta, and to diplomatic duties elsewhere in the galaxy. Once more, worries of a posting on Tatooine assailed him, but they were interrupted by the arrival of his Twi'lek secretary.

  "Highness, New Republic Senator Shesh requests audience."

  "Now?" Golga said incredulously. "Doesn't Senator Shesh realize that I'm preparing to depart?"

  "She does, Highness. But she asserts that it is vital that she speak with you beforehand. She asserts further that you will be passing up a unique opportunity should you elect not to grant her audience."

  "A unique opportunity, indeed. Is this Senator Viqi Shesh of Kuat?"

  "Yes, Highness."

  Golga grimaced in derision. "A member of the Advisory Council and the Security and Intelligence Council. Shall I tell you beforehand about this unique opportunity? She is going to ask me to serve as an agent for New Republic Intelligence. She will promise generous compensation for my keeping her committee apprised of what goes on in Borga's court-of who comes and goes, and of what matters are spoken. She will avouch in the strongest terms that the Hutts will ultimately be betrayed

  by the Yuuzhan Vong, and that Borga will be brought down. She will be quick to assure that the New Republic will one day prevail against the Yuuzhan Vong, and at that time my contributions to their defeat will become public knowledge and I will reap the benefits of my treachery by being awarded a position suitable to my new station in life. Perhaps a palace here on Coruscant, or a political appointment to the world of my choice."

  The Twi'lek waited until he was certain that Golga was finished. "I should inform her, then, that Your Highness is not interested in speaking with her?"

  Golga blinked and wet his lips with his fat, pointed tongue. Lending voice to what heretofore had been most private musings had accorded them a sudden credibility. Under the guise of sufferance, he motioned with his tiny hands.

  "No. Show her in. But make sure she understands that I have a flight to catch."

  The Twi'lek bowed graciously and left the chambers. When he returned a moment later he was accompanied by a comely, dark-haired human female, on whom even normally drab senatorial garb looked like evening wear. Golga was a Besadii, but he had more than a touch of Desilijic in his veins, which accounted for a certain partiality to human females. Watching Viqi Shesh, he envisioned her dancing for him, or fetching him succulent morsels of living food. Of greater surprise than her beauty was the fact that she had apparently come alone, without so much as an interpreter.

  Golga arranged himself on the couch and motioned Shesh to the closest of several comfortable chairs. "Never let it be said," he began in Basic when his secretary had exited, "that Golga Besadii Fir is one to allow unique opportunities to pass him by."

  Shesh smiled with purpose. "I'm glad to hear that, Consul Golga. It simplifies matters."

  Golga licked his lips.

  "As you may or may not know, recent information has come to light, indicating that the Yuuzhan Vong intend to attack Tynna."

  "Tynna? I know nothing of this."

  "Certain parties thought it odd that no spice was being delivered to Tynna, and they brought this matter to the attention of New Republic Intelligence. Given the Hutts' alliance with the enemy, members of the Intelligence community had to ask themselves whether the suspension of deliveries was perhaps a cloaked message from Borga-a way for her to reveal the intentions of the Yuuzhan Vong without actually saying as much."

  Golga grappled with what he was hearing. "Clearly you know more about these matters than I do, Senator. In any event, you certainly can't expect me to speak for Borga."

  "You are her envoy, are you not?"

  "Yes, but-"

  "Then don't concern yourself with speaking for Borga. Simply listen as she might."

  Insulted, Golga had an impulse to have Shesh escorted from the chambers, but then thought better of it. "I'm listening, Senator-as Borga would."

  Shesh flashed a warmer smile. "Should the intelligence about Tynna prove reliable, one has to wonder if the suspension of spice deliveries to Bothawui and Corellia might signal threats to those systems, as well. Or"-she held up a meticulously manicured forefinger-"whether this is merely what the Yuuzhan Vong would like us to think, while they devise an entirely different attack."

  She gave Golga a moment to ponder it, then continued. "You see, the senate and the Defense Force are very divided on just this issue. With New Republic fleets widely dispersed to protect the Core Worlds, a decision has to be reached on whether additional ships should be deployed at Bothawui or Corellia."

  Golga laughed. "Senator, I haven't the slightest idea what the Yuuzhan Vong plan to do next. Furthermore, it is ludicrous to assume that Borga has been made privy to their plans."

  Shesh crossed her legs and leaned forward. "You can assure me of that?"

  "I can. Everyone has attached too much import to this so-called alliance. Borga and the clan leaders of the Grand Council wished to avoid a war at all costs. To do so required that we allow the Yuuzhan Vong access to certain worlds in our space-worlds of little consequence- which they intend to mine for resources or remake in some way. Granted, this is a form of aiding and abetting the enemy, but the end result would have been the same had we opted to go to war. We are powerful, but not as powerful as the enemy."

  "The Hutts managed to hold the Empire at bay," Shesh pointed out. "Delaying the Yuuzhan Vong would have helped."

  "I won't deny it. But our society would have been destroyed. We have always believed in keeping to ourselves, Senator. We have never attempted to intrude on New Republic space-well, there was that one regrettable episode involving Durga. But other than that, we Hutts have been content to move spice, indulge ourselves with food, drink, music, and dance. We are not warriors, Senator, much less warlords."

  Shesh's eyes narrowed in thought. "So you are only trying to preserve what you have. You're not actually siding with the Yuuzhan Vong."

  "We are not."

  "And should they defeat the New Republic?"

  "If I may speak plainly, we'll go on as we always have-poorer, perhaps, for not selling spice, or wealthier from selling even more than we do now."

  "To the miserable, defeated masses," Shesh said, loosing a short laugh.

  As the statement didn't beg a response, Golga didn't offer one.

  "I want you to deliver a message to Borga, Consul. Tell her that while the fleets are deployed elsewhere, the New Republic would like nothing more than to see the Yuuzhan Vong attack Corellia. They have a surprise in store-including a big shiny toy that could spell trouble for your new overlords. But tell her also that this information is offered as a means of redressing an earlier wrong. Borga won't understand, but there are those

  who will."

  Golga stared at her. "If I didn't know better," he said at last, "I would be tempted to surmise that you are supplying me with intelligence tha
t would be of great value to the Yuuzhan Vong."

  Shesh shrugged. "Think what you will." "Nevertheless, how do I know that this isn't simply disinformation, designed to make the Hutts look like fools?"

  Shesh said nothing.

  "Whichever the case, Senator, this is most unexpected." Shesh's smile was enigmatic. "Who knows, Consul, someday we might be working together. To that possible end, I think we're off to a good start."

  FOURTEEN

  In Ryn City's dormito ry, with all thirty-seven Ryn gathered around them and waiting breathlessly, the two humans-Tall and Short-appraised the completed letters of transit. The forgeries had required almost four Ruan days of clandestine work, with almost everyone contributing in one way or another. Where Gaph was skilled at line drawing, R'vanna excelled at calligraphy. Many of the females had seen to mixing and applying the colors, and even Melisma had lent a hand by proofreading the passenger names and scrutinizing the letters for imperfections.

  She stood between Gaph and R'vanna now, Sapha's infant-quiet as a skimp for a change-balanced on her hip. The stuffy air of the dormitory was so tense that when Tall finally pronounced the letters "perfect," it was as if fireworks had gone off.

  Everyone exhaled in relief and grinned broadly. Melisma handed the infant to one of the other females and gave Gaph and R'vanna tight hugs of joy.

  The humans waited for the Ryn to calm down. Displaying one of the sheets of durasheet, Tall showed Gaph an appreciative look.

  "I see you've already listed yourselves."

  Gaph puffed out his chest in theatrical pride. "That's because we knew you would find them impeccable."

  Tall nodded and handed all the letters to Short, who placed them inside a beat-up alloy case.

  "We'll submit everything to Salliche Ag later this morning. They'll drag the process out for a day or so. But assuming everything goes as planned, you should be prepared to leave on the day after tomorrow. How's that sound?"

  Instead of answering, Gaph raised his hands over his head, made a clicking rhythm with his tongue, and began to dance, cross-stepping and turning slowly as he moved about the room. In a moment, everyone was clapping and clicking in time and joining him in celebration.

  Melisma could hardly believe their good fortune. In two days they would be headed clear around the Core to Abregado-rae!

  Apparently in dire need of beauty sleep, Randa hadn't asked for the Ryn as expected. By Skidder's reckoning, two standard days had passed before the Hutt summoned them. Later that same day, however, Skidder was delighted to find the six Ryn already in the yammosk tank when he and the other captives were led into the hold.

  Slipping into the gelatinous liquid and taking his assigned place at one of the tentacles, he gave Sapha a meaningful look but said nothing.

  The session began as usual, with the captives striving to induce the yammosk-by lulling the creature into a state of tactile elation through caresses and massage-to urge the dovin basal to drive the ship to greater speeds. While those sessions had become less demanding psychologically, they were still physically exhausting, and by the time Chine-kal returned the count to normal many of the captives were bent double over the tentacles, strain-

  ing for breath and trying to rub the soreness from their hands, arms, shoulders, and chests.

  The important thing was that Chine-kal was pleased with their efforts, which meant that there would be no more speed work for the remainder of the session.

  When the commander's circuit on the tank rim had taken him 180 degrees from Skidder, the Jedi threw Sapha a quick glance and spoke under his breath.

  "You met with Randa?"

  She gave him the faintest of nods. "We just finished with him."

  "You did as I asked?"

  "Against our better judgment. But, yes, we did as you asked."

  "How did he react?"

  "With palpable concern. He dismissed us almost immediately, probably to confer with his bodyguards and advisers."

  Skidder's eyes narrowed in covert pleasure.

  The moment had come to talk to the yammosk. In previous sessions, Skidder had drawn on the Force only enough to grant the creature access to his surface thoughts and emotions. The ease of the bond had brought the yammosk back time and again, and on each occasion Skidder had given the creature a bit more of himself, as reinforcement. Now he had to reverse the flow and speak directly to the yammosk, as it obviously believed it had been doing with him.

  He had been practicing the necessary Force technique since the Ryn had first told him of their meetings with the Hutt. With no more effort than it had taken to slip into the nutrient fluid in which the yammosk floated, Skidder went into a light trance.

  The goal was to convey through images that Randa Besadii Diori was plotting against Commander Chine-kal. Skidder had run through the deceit so often in the past two days that the images unreeled before him like some HoloNet drama. Immediately the tentacle draped almost tenderly across his shoulders began to twitch, then tremble.

  Then all at once the appendage tightened its hold on him. At the same time, and throughout the tank, the tentacles fastened to other captives dropped away, slapping the fluid with enough force to send nutrient slopping over the rim and onto the floor of the hold.

  Several captives screamed in alarm as the yammosk's convoluted body stiffened. Skidder instantly broke mental contact and ducked out from under the tentacle's grip. But that only prompted the creature to twist toward him, as if to fix him in its gaze. Skidder, Roa, Sapha, and some of the others had the foresight to submerge themselves in the nutrient, but a dozen others were hurled clear out of the tank by the yammosk's counterclockwise whirl. Fasgo was among the latter group, and he was hurled farther than the rest, his already weakened body slammed with bone-breaking force into the yorik coral bulkhead, where it stuck fast for a moment, then began a slow tumble down the scabrous surface to the floor.

  Some of the longer tentacles made a sudden grab for Skidder as he resurfaced, but he back-somersaulted out of the liquid and onto the rim walkway. Frustrated, the yammosk reared up, then flattened itself, extending its reach to the edge of the tank. The tentacles flailed and slapped against the coral grating, but Skidder deftly avoided them by hopping from foot to foot and executing flips that sent him over their slimy top sides.

  Elsewhere in the hold, Chine-kal and the guards had been thrown into utter confusion. They raced around the tank, making futile attempts to calm the creature, convinced for the moment that Skidder was the victim rather than the instigator.

  The Jedi front-flipped to the deck, landing on his feet, but the guards weren't about to cut him too much slack. He could have avoided or defeated the ones who rushed him from all sides, but with nowhere to run he quickly decided that his purposes would best be served by playing the panicked captive, fearful for his life.

  He pretended to struggle, throwing some of the guards aside with the strength that panic affords. Ultimately, though, he let them get the better of him, and sank to the deck under their hold, shrieking, wailing, and gesticulating to the yammosk.

  "It tried to kill me! It wants to kill me!"

  Having lost its fury, the war coordinator was bobbing on the waves its own actions had stirred. Many captives were pressed to the rim of the tank. Most of those flung outside by the creature's abrupt spin were picking themselves up from the deck, dazed but not seriously hurt. Except for Fasgo, who was sprawled lifelessly in an expanding pool of blood.

  Even Chine-kal seemed wary as he approached the yammosk. Skidder had to believe that not all the creatures developed as planned, and that despite the bioengi-neering that went into them, some could be flawed, as was sometimes the case with skips and other examples of Yuuzhan Vong organic technology.

  Seeing or perhaps sensing the commander's approach, the yammosk extended two tentacles to him, then a third, which the yammosk curled around Chine-kal's neck. The commander's eyes rolled up in his head, and he might have collapsed except for the support of the tentacl
es. Then, blinking back to consciousness, he turned and stared wide-eyed at Skidder.

  Skidder couldn't begin to guess what the yammosk had related about Randa, or about Skidder himself. But the words that flew from Chine-kal were the last thing he expected to hear.

  " A Jedi!" The commander eased out of the yammosk's embrace and approached Skidder. "A Jedi!"

  Out of the corner of his eye, Skidder saw Roa and Sapha hang their heads in defeat.

  Chine-kal stood before Skidder, shaking his head in both disbelief and wonderment. "A valiant effort, Jedi. Truly inspired. But what you failed to realize is that yam-mosks are not grown but spawned. Each passes the sum total of its learning on to the next." He glanced at the creature. "This one's progenitors have had experience with Jedi."

  Chine-kal turned back to Skidder and rested his hands on Skidder's shoulders. "But be proud, Jedi, for you have pleased me greatly. In fact, you will be my gift to War-master Tsavong Lah, who will one day arrive to govern Coruscant."

  FIFTEEN

  The tempo of the rousing march that welcomed Supreme Commander Nas Choka aboard the Yuuzhan Vong warship Yammka was kept by warriors with drums, but the theme itself was supplied by a menagerie of bioengineered insects and avians, droning, trumpeting, and whistling from within cages and atop perches situated throughout the great hold.

  Enormous villip-choir transparencies broke the obsidian monotony of the starboard bulkhead, providing a star-strewn panorama of the anchored fleet, as well as a distant view of the Hutt space world known as Runaway Prince, remade for the sowing of yorik coral, villip shrubs, and other necessities of war. To the ships that resembled asteroids, marine behemoths, and tumbled and faceted cabochons had been added an even more massive and sinister specimen a flattened lapidary orb of glossy black, from the dense center of which spiraled half a dozen arms, as if in dark imitation of the galaxy the Yuuzhan Vong were determined to conquer.