The bafforr grove was a rarity from Ithor. The towering trees, with their dark green foliage, were semi-intelligent and certainly a big reason why the Ithorians worshiped the Mother Jungle. The Ithorians’ decision to transplant bafforr trees to Garqi signaled their belief that the Garqians shared that uniquely harmonious bond with their environment that the Ithorians had with theirs. Corran hoped that, through the Force, the Jedi could link with the trees and get an idea where those hunting them were. He was far from sure if that plan would succeed, but it was the best they had to work with at the time.
Corran arrived at the heart of the grove and dropped to one knee near Ganner, Jacen, and Rade. On their faces he could recognize the fact that they knew they were dead. He knew it, too, but every second they could buy would be one more second that the Best Chance could use to get its cargo aboard and out.
He looked up at Jacen. “I should have sent you out with the ship.”
Jacen shrugged. “I’m just the copilot. We get off this rock, we get off it together.”
“It’s a deal.” Corran glanced at Ganner. “Tried to read the trees?”
Ganner nodded wearily. “There is something there, but it’s very vague and subtle.”
Rade pointed at the yellow pollen staining the ground. “It’s spring. The trees are devoting a lot of energy to growth and reproduction. They are budding, after all.”
“I see that.” Corran sighed. “My grandfather once told me that a blood meal is nourishing for plants. One way or another they’re going to gorge.”
Jacen pointed back toward the archway. “They’re coming.”
Back at the arch some reptoids and thralls darted through, taking up covered positions. Resistance snipers hit a few, but had no clean kills. More of the Yuuzhan Vong experiments and slaves came through, but they huddled there, around the gate, waiting. Their anxious glances told Corran what they waited for. When it came, he couldn’t help but be impressed.
One by one, seven Yuuzhan Vong warriors stalked through the arch. They moved quickly enough, but not hurriedly. While they did not choose to stand in the open, they did stand and didn’t seek heavy cover. A few blaster bolts reached out and struck them, but their cerulean armor skipped the bolts off.
Rade raised a hand. “Wait for good shots. At this range, the armor isn’t giving.”
“Different armor, Rade. This is the serious stuff.” Corran remained on one knee and watched as the last Yuuzhan Vong warrior came through the arch. “Oh, yeah, we’re just going to have a fun time now.”
Jacen glanced over at him. “Your definition of fun and mine don’t exactly match.”
“Not you I’m worried about. It’s them.” Corran scraped two fingers through the yellow bafforr pollen and streaked it beneath each of his eyes. “Not quite as nifty as their battle masks, but it’s something.”
The warrior Corran took to be the Yuuzhan Vong leader stepped forward of their line. Rade started to give an order to cut him down, but Corran raised a hand. In a low voice he said, “Remember, we’re playing for time here.”
The Yuuzhan Vong brandished his amphistaff and began shouting in a high voice. “I am Krag of Domain Val. Garqi is mine. Surrender and you live.”
Corran stood, but Ganner eclipsed him. “I am Ganner Rhysode. I am Jedi. Before you can engage our leader, you must go through me.”
“Didn’t know you cared, Ganner.”
“I don’t, Corran, but the last time I let you fight the Yuuzhan Vong, I had to lift you into a ship and save your life. A gram of prevention is worth a kilo of cure.”
One of the Noghri likewise stepped out between the Yuuzhan Vong and Ganner. “I am Mushkil of Clan Baikh’vair. The way to a Jedi is through me.”
Tension rose in the air. For Corran it was all but palpable, and even the bafforr trees could seem to sense it. A flurry of yellow pollen began to drift down, as if the bright playful color could somehow leech the malevolence from the air. He saw yellow spots dapple the shoulders of Ganner’s combat suit and mottle the Noghri’s flesh, adding a gay note to what had only been grim before.
Then a single blaster shot burned through the air, spinning a reptoid around and dropping him to the gravel-strewn garden pathway. The tension exploded like thunder, and though Corran knew his action was suicidal, he charged with the others at the Yuuzhan Vong line. Blaster bolts, hot and red, filled the air, knocking down reptoids and thralls, leaving the Jedi and Noghri matched number for number with the Yuuzhan Vong warriors.
But not for long.
Mushkil did reach Krag Val before either Ganner or Corran could. The Noghri hurled a knife as he closed, but the warrior’s spinning amphistaff flicked the blade up high and away. Then, even before the knife had time to fall to the ground, the Yuuzhan Vong had closed, swept the Noghri’s legs from beneath him, and stabbed down. He impaled the Noghri on his amphistaff’s tail. Blood spurted straight up as Krag Val pulled his weapon free and engaged Ganner.
The Jedi’s sulfurous blade slashed low at the warrior’s legs. Krag Val pivoted on his left foot, pulling his right foot back, letting the lightsaber scar the armor on his left shin. Ganner’s rush carried him past the warrior. As he turned to bring his lightsaber into play again, the Yuuzhan Vong slashed down. Ganner reeled away, his left hand trying to keep his torn face together.
Corran drove at Krag Val, but Jacen got to him first. The younger Jedi slashed high, letting the Yuuzhan Vong block with his amphistaff. Jacen kept the pressure on, grinding the blade against the amphistaff, then kicked out with his right foot, catching the warrior on his left knee. The joint straightened, then locked and would have broken, but the warrior hopped backwards.
Jacen arced his green blade around, stroking it through the scar Ganner had cut on the left shin, and took the warrior’s leg off at midcalf. He leapt above an amphistaff blow, then slashed down and caught Krag Val’s right arm at the juncture of his elbow. Sparking and smoking, the lightsaber sawed through it, freeing the arm and amphistaff.
Corran streaked past Jacen and leapt over the fallen Ganner. He blocked a slash meant to decapitate the downed Jedi, then whipped his blade down and around in a cut that scored a warrior’s breastplate. That warrior fell back, for a moment blocking one of his fellows. This gave Corran a chance to step on the dark end of Ganner’s lightsaber and kick it up into the air. He grabbed it in his left hand and held it with the blade trailing back behind him. He let the tip of his silver blade drift, as if he was going to connect the pollen dots on the Yuuzhan Vong’s armor with it.
“C’mon, you two. Let’s go.” Corran stamped a foot and feinted at the warriors he faced. “I don’t have all day.”
They glanced at each other, then one took a step forward, but it was a halting one. Corran knew it wasn’t a feint. The step ended abruptly and too much weight shifted onto that foot. In an instant Corran lunged high with his silver blade, then spun to the right, slashing Ganner’s trailing blade across the warrior’s knee.
As he came around he brought the silver blade down and across in a parry he hoped would pick off the attack coming from the other warrior, but the blade met no resistance at all. He tightened the arc and left the blade pointed straight at his second foe. If the warrior came at him, he’d impale himself.
But that’s not going to happen. Corran stared, wide-eyed, at the warriors. The soft, leathery tissue that covered the vonduun-crab-armor joints had begun to swell, stiffening limbs. Dark fluid oozed from holes beneath the warriors’ armpits, flooding down to erode the pollen stains. The swelling forced the warriors upright, then, stiff-limbed, they toppled over. Breath came short and shallow for them, and Corran had no doubt the armor’s swelling was suffocating them.
All around him the Yuuzhan Vong warriors were down, along with two more Noghri. Ganner had risen to hands and knees, his left glove covered with blood. Jacen stood over the body of another dying warrior while the resistance blasterfire broke the slaves and sent them scurrying from the garden.
Jacen lo
oked stunned. “What happened?”
Corran waved a hand through the air. “If I had to guess, their living armor had a nasty allergic reaction to this pollen. It’s swollen up and is killing them.” He swept his silver blade around in a circle. “We have to burn this all down. Everything.”
“What?” Jacen pointed at the bafforr trees. “They’re semi-intelligent. They saved us. How can we burn them down?”
“We have to. We have to burn the entire garden.” Corran nodded at Rade. “Gotta be done. We know bafforr pollen can affect vonduun crab armor, and quickly, too. The Yuuzhan Vong don’t, otherwise we’d never have been allowed to retreat here. This knowledge is vital, and we have to delay the Vong figuring out what happened here.”
The youngest Jedi shook his head. “What if it’s just the pollen from this grove? What if this grove’s genetics are unique?”
“Take cuttings then, Jacen, take pollen samples, as much as you want.” Corran turned to Rade. “We need to start four fires, so the Yuuzhan Vong can’t trace this grove as what we’re trying to destroy by having the fire’s epicenter be here. We’ll also need to knock out the fire suppression system here to make sure it all goes. Their dead have to burn, too.”
The resistance leader nodded. “I’m on it.”
Jacen shook his head. “This place, so much greenery. Can’t you feel the Force here, Corran?”
“I can, Jacen, but we have to look beyond it.” He dropped to a knee beside Ganner and helped one of the resistance fighters press a bandage over the left side of Ganner’s face. “The Vong will figure out what happened here, eventually. I just hope what we’re doing earns us enough time that we can mount a defense of Ithor. If we can’t, that world will die, and with it will go our best chances for driving the Yuuzhan Vong from our galaxy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jacen looked at the digital readout on the sedative injector in his right hand. One dose left. The two captives had received enough of the drug to keep a small gang of men down for a week, and still they could move—though, not much, given how tightly the Noghri had bound them. Just how tough the Yuuzhan Vong’s creations were slammed into him, along with bloody visions of a long war against them.
He turned from the back end of the Best Chance, sidled past where Ganner sat with a reddened pressure bandage against his face, and slipped out the hatch. Jacen crossed quickly to where Corran stood talking to Rade. He nodded to the both of them, but waited for their conversation to end before he said anything.
The Garqian smiled wearily. “I appreciate the offer, Corran, but I’m not going to take up one of those open slots you have on the ship. I can’t abandon my people, and they’d refuse an order to evacuate. We’re here for the long haul.”
“I’m not being altruistic here, Rade. You’ve got great intel on the Vong, and we need it.”
“But what you need more is us being active here, making the Yuuzhan Vong think the whole Xenobotanical Garden fire was just a terrorist act.” The resistance leader clapped the elder Jedi on the shoulders. “Your coming here meant a lot, and we’ll get more information out to you. You have to go so you can find a way to turn our people back into our people. We need to be here to make sure there are some folks remaining to welcome the returnees back.”
Corran’s green eyes narrowed. “You’re not being abandoned, you know. We’ll be back to liberate Garqi.”
Rade’s smile broadened. “Better hurry back. We’re planning to do the job ourselves.”
Jacen held up the injector. “Our guests are down, but I’m not sure for how long. There’s one dose left. Can I give it to Ganner?”
“Did he ask for it?”
The young man shook his head. “He’s suffering, though.”
Corran thought for a moment, then nodded. “Ask him if he wants it. If he says no, give it to him anyway.”
“Are you joking?”
Corran shook his head. “He’s a Jedi and he’s in pain. I don’t want him twitching TK that breaks something. We can’t go until we get a signal, and I want us ready to sky when that happens. Our escape window here isn’t going to be that big.”
The idea that he should shoot Ganner full of a sedative against his will struck Jacen as a gross violation of Ganner’s privacy and dignity, and he almost suspected Corran gave him the directive because of the friction between the two older Jedi. But Corran’s reasoning made perfect sense, and his deliberation before telling Jacen what to do suggested he was searching for any way around adding insult to Ganner’s injury. The order, though it would be a blow to Ganner, would be for the sake of the mission. Clearly Ganner’s wishes, or those of anyone else, had to be secondary to what they were doing. Just as I should have left the courtyard when Corran ordered me to, regardless of the consequences.
All of a sudden Jacen saw the role of a mission leader in an entirely different light. Before, he’d always seen the leader as someone in power, and he could see how that position would be desirable. It meant a person had been deemed superior to his fellows. His orders were to be followed, his dictates were law. For someone as young as he was, becoming a leader seemed like a promotion to adult status, and he had not looked beyond that point.
The other side of being the leader and what that meant blossomed full in his brain. Yes, Corran could give orders, but he bore the full responsibility for the consequences of those actions. The success or failure of the mission was on his shoulders entirely. Jacen had no doubt that if required to, Corran would order suicidal assaults—the stand at the garden had been one such. And even though such orders could be justified in the name of success, Corran would still have to live with the consequences of his orders.
And Uncle Luke, too . . . Jacen turned back toward the ship and reentered. His uncle had an even greater burden to bear, and Jacen was suddenly relieved that such a mantle did not rest on his shoulders. Not only was it bone-crushing, but Jacen was fairly certain that having to shoulder it would deflect him from discovering the sort of Jedi he should become. Responsibility for others could blind me to my responsibility within the Force.
He ducked his head and passed through the hatchway. He smiled at Ganner. “Corran said I can give you this last dose of sedative, if you want it.”
“No, I don’t need it.”
Jacen nodded, then stabbed it toward Ganner’s thigh. The injector got within five centimeters, then stopped as if he’d been trying to drive it through transparisteel.
Ganner glared at him. “Don’t make me break the injector, Jacen.”
If he can focus that much, he’s not going to be twitching. “Sorry, Corran said—”
“Corran said what he had to say. I don’t want a sedative. Not yet, anyway.” Ganner turned his head and glanced at one of the Noghri. “Sirhka, your help, please.”
The Noghri unbuckled himself from his seat. “Ask.”
“The medpac has a Nilar field cauterizer.” Ganner peeled the bandage away from his face. “Use it to close the wound.”
The Noghri nodded and bent to retrieve the medpac from beneath Ganner’s seat. He slid it out and opened it. From the box he drew a sixteen-centimeter-long stylus that emitted a close-focus, low-frequency laser beam that would burn the wound shut. The Noghri stood again, and for the first time, Jacen realized that some of the patterning on the Noghri’s gray flesh was from scars—some of which he felt certain Sirhka had closed himself with a cauterizer.
“Wait a minute.” Jacen held a hand up. The wound on Ganner’s face ran from above his left eye, splitting the brow, down to his cheekbone and below, to his jawline. Blood bubbled in the lower part of the wound as Ganner breathed, and the amphistaff had clearly carved bone as it slashed his face.
“Wait for what?”
“We’ll get out of here. You can get into a bacta tank. If he uses that thing, you’ll have a scar.”
“I imagine I will.” Ganner looked at the Noghri. “You don’t have to be fancy, just close the wound.”
The Noghri nodded and reached o
ut to pinch Ganner’s flesh together. He stroked the cauterizer against the wound’s seams, sending little puffs of white smoke into the air. The bittersweet scent of burning flesh got into Jacen’s nose, and he couldn’t snort it back out. As much as he wanted to walk away, though, he couldn’t do that either.
Ganner gripped the arms of the seat, and his muscles tightened with every brush of the cauterizer. Jacen could feel some pain coming off him, but it was considerably less than the disgust that rolled off the injured Jedi. It seemed to Jacen almost as if with each touch of the cauterizer, Ganner was reliving the cut that had opened the wound.
“Don’t worry, Ganner, you won’t be fooled by one of them again.”
Ganner said nothing until Sirhka dropped to a knee and began working on the wound on Ganner’s thigh. The Jedi accepted a dressing soaked in disinfectant and swabbed it over the side of his face, clearing up the blood. Most of the red went away, save the angry line from forehead to jaw. The flesh on the line was clearly tender, but Ganner washed it thoroughly nonetheless.
“You don’t understand, Jacen, the Yuuzhan Vong didn’t fool me. I fooled myself.” Ganner closed his eyes for a moment and sat back. He opened only his right eye. “Throughout this mission, since I first heard of the Yuuzhan Vong even, I wanted to prove that I was better than they were. I was furious that I did not get to engage a Vong on Bimmiel. The first one I killed this afternoon, I tricked into stepping into that hole. I knew he was a fool, and he died because of his stupidity. And somehow, I started thinking that I was a genius compared to the rest of them.”
Little wisps of white smoke rose like a curtain between Ganner and Jacen as the Noghri closed the other flesh wound. “It wasn’t a stretch for me to think I was brilliant compared to the Yuuzhan Vong. I’ve been thinking that for a long time compared to other Jedi. Your uncle, Corran, Kam—all of them—they aren’t of our generation of Jedi. They knew the Empire—they fought it or served it. They are older. They don’t know the Force the way we do, didn’t have the training we did.”
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