Dark Tide: Ruin

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Gilead Pellaeon leaned forward and smoothed his moustache with thumb and forefinger. “I’ve requested reinforcements, and I know you have, too. What I don’t like about the simulations I’ve run is this: The Vong can peel off a small contingent of their ships and send them after the city-ships once we’ve settled into our standoff. We have to react, shifting the balance of power here. Ithor will be open to them.”

  Corran’s green eyes narrowed. “Can these reinforcements come into the system in a position to cover the city-ships?”

  The Imperial Admiral nodded. “That would be relatively simple to accomplish, and would put them in position to help with the evacuation, too.”

  “And the evacuation is more important than killing any Yuuzhan Vong splinter force.” Luke looked at Corran. “What is it?”

  The Corellian Jedi blinked, then glanced down at his hands. “Well, it sounds as if what we really need, instead of just a standoff, is a truce.”

  Pelleaon nodded. “That would be most useful, but the fate of your Caamasi friend would suggest it’s unlikely.”

  “Maybe not.”

  Luke looked hard at Corran as a spiked wave of conflicting emotions erupted from the dark-haired Jedi. “What do you have in mind? You’ve been planning something.”

  “Caught red-handed.” Corran’s lips pressed into a flat line. “I didn’t mean to deceive you, Luke. I know that’s not possible, but . . . You all heard what Shedao Shai said to me. I sent a message to Agamar. A day from now I expect to get those bones from the archeological team that recovered them. I’ll have something Shedao Shai wants.”

  Luke shook his head. “You weren’t planning something stupid, were you? Were you going to bring them to the Tafanda Bay and use them as bait?”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking. I hadn’t gotten as far as planning.” Corran looked at his open hands, then pressed them flat on the table top. “I just knew, I mean I knew I had to have those bones here. Maybe I’d shoot them into the sun and tell Shedao Shai I’d done that so he’d race his ship into the sun’s gravity well trying to get them, and then get all burned up. I don’t know.”

  Kre’fey scratched at his chin. “Trade the bones for a truce? I’m not sure that would work.”

  Corran shook his head. “It wouldn’t.”

  Luke heard the uncertainty leave Corran’s voice. “What do you mean?”

  “I was wrong when I said I had something Shedao Shai wants. I have two things. I have the bones, and I have me. I killed two of his kin on Bimmiel, so he killed Elegos. He wants to kill me.”

  The Imperial admiral slowly smiled. “And you want to kill him.”

  “I wouldn’t mind it.” The Corellian Jedi’s head came up. “What I propose is this: I challenge the Vong leader to a duel. He wins, he gets the bones. I win, I get Ithor. To set it up, we have a truce. How long do you want? A week? Two?”

  “A week would be great, two would be better.” Kre’fey nodded. “This could work.”

  Luke shook his head. “No, this can’t happen.”

  “Master? Why not?”

  “First, Borsk Fey’lya will never agree to it.”

  Kre’fey cleared his throat. “What my cousin does not know will not hurt him.”

  Corran nodded. “And if it does not work, if Shedao Shai does not agree, we don’t have to explain yet another Jedi failure.”

  “Corran, it’s still not right. You challenge him to a duel, you become the aggressor. You’re coercing him into acting. That’s not what Jedi do.” You’re treading perilously close to the dark side, my friend. Luke did not voice his concern because he wasn’t at all sure how either Admiral would take it.

  The green-clad Jedi sat silently for a moment, then slowly nodded. “I think I understand your concern, Master, but this goes back to the discussion at our meeting months ago. I can feel the focusing of Vong power. I know that to do this is to preempt Vong action. Elegos sent himself out to try to stop the invasion and, um, if I can do that, even for a day, the chances of more people escaping goes up. It may not be the choice we want to make, but it’s the only one that seems to be offering itself at the moment.”

  “But the example you’ll set. You’ll be playing into Kyp’s hands.”

  “I know.” Corran closed his eyes and sat back. “I wish there was another way, Master, but this one just feels right.”

  Luke wanted to protest and forbid Corran from striking the bargain with the Yuuzhan Vong leader that had been proposed. He didn’t because of the sense of calm radiating from his colleague.

  The Jedi Master looked at the two military men. “You two approve of this plan?”

  Pelleaon snorted. “Of one man taking a vigilante action to decide the fate of a planet and its population? That’s the last thing the Empire would ever condone. Not only is it risky for the man on the spot, but it would encourage others to act in an insubordinate fashion if they felt their action was ‘right.’ Were he under my command, I would forbid this action, but he’s not. I also recognize how absolutely desperate things are, and if this will work, I’m willing to work with it. The decision is going to be up to his commanding officer.”

  Admiral Kre’fey frowned. “I seem to remember there having been a good reason for recalling Colonel Horn to active duty, but it escapes me now.” He sighed. “I agree with Admiral Pelleaon. I don’t like this at all, but I think this is a chance we must take. Ships can only move so fast, so we need to win time more than the battle. At the very least this will win us time. If it safeguards Ithor, so much the better.”

  Luke nodded solemnly. “There is a great deal I don’t like about this, but . . .” He glanced at Corran. “I trust your judgment. I know you will do the right thing.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  Luke reached out and patted Corran on the shoulder. “We’ll work out a way to get the message to Shedao Shai. I will get you the plans as soon as we have them.”

  Kre’fey stood and offered Luke his hand. “Just in case it never gets said, I appreciate the sacrifice you and your Jedi are making here. I wanted you to know that, in case we don’t make it through to the other side of this conflict.”

  The image of Chewbacca flashed through Luke’s mind for a second, then he banished it with the sensation of meeting the Bothan’s firm, dry grip. “Thank you, Admiral. May the Force be with us all.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Jacen Solo watched the freighter captain accept the datapad back from Corran, check the receipt flashing on the screen, then wave forward the binary loadlifter with the brushed aluminum case. “You should know that Dr. Pace said she was going to protest this appropriation of Yuuzhan Vong artifacts to the highest levels.” The captain shook his head.

  “Noted.” Corran gave the man a curt nod. “Thanks for the diversion here. I won’t keep you.”

  “Not a problem. Your wife’s done me some good turns in the past. Glad to return the favor.” The man gave Corran a quick salute, then directed the loadlifter back to his freighter.

  “Want me to get that, Corran?”

  The elder Jedi hefted the case by its handle, then extended it toward Jacen. “Has your mind changed about this? You didn’t like the idea at the briefing. Second thoughts?”

  Jacen accepted the case and was surprised by how light it really was. “Not really. You’re making part of this war personal, you against Shedao Shai. That’s not right. It’s divisive. It’s of the—”

  “Don’t tell me it’s of the dark side, Jacen.” Corran held up a hand and shook his head. “I’m not in a mood—”

  “Yes, you are, Corran, you’re in a mood. And you don’t want to hear it because you know it’s true.” Jacen got a step ahead of the other Jedi, glancing back at him over his left shoulder. “You’re the one who told me we all have to be pulling in the same direction, but you’re going off on your own. You want revenge for your friend. I can’t blame you for that, but were the situation reversed, you’d be arguing with me to subordinate my feelings to what o
thers thought was best.”

  “That’s probably true.”

  “So, why doesn’t the same work for you?”

  “Because . . .” Corran frowned, then grabbed a handful of Jacen’s tunic and tugged him down a side corridor. “Come here.”

  The two of them walked along in silence and emerged on a walkway that gave them a view across the expanse of the bowl that was the Tafanda Bay. Had Jacen not known they were floating over the Mother Jungle, he could have easily been led to believe that the Ithorian ship was a domed city nestled comfortably on the planet below. The transparisteel dome displayed a bright blue sky through which freighters streaked toward space, and the verdant foliage throughout the city let the white walls and walkways peek through only here and there.

  “Look out there, Jacen. This is a city that is now abandoned by the people who love it, who labored to create it. Why? Because it’s a target. We know the Vong are going to hit it, so we’ve moved the people and have rigged up some surprises for the enemy. We’re doing that on the planet itself, too.”

  The youth nodded. “I understand that.”

  “Well, understand this: Shedao Shai, because of what I did at Bimmiel, because of what we did at Garqi, has decided I’m a target. He’s going to be looking for me—and for the bones in that case—which means he’s going to be distracted. That’s what we want, because a distracted leader is one who will give us some time and, ultimately, is going to fail.”

  “I get that, but the rest of it . . .”

  Corran sighed and laid a hand on Jacen’s left shoulder. “Look, Jacen, I don’t want revenge for Elegos. His death hurt me, deeply, but I knew him well enough to know that the last thing he’d want is someone slain in his name. You remember on Dantooine, he took to flying that shuttle because he was willing to take responsibility for killing, to shield others from having to bear that burden. If I went out after Shedao Shai in Elegos’s name, Elegos would see that as his having thrust the burden of violence on me. I wouldn’t do that to him.”

  “But you do intend to kill Shedao Shai.”

  Corran’s face resolved itself into a solemn mask. “If the opportunity arises, yes. Look, Jacen, it’s not about vengeance, which, you’re right, would be of the dark side. It’s about responsibility. Shedao Shai wants to kill me. If I don’t engage him, then you or Ganner or someone else might be required to deal with him. Yes, he’s dangerous, of that I have no doubt. He may well kill me and then he’s your problem. Until then, he’s mine.”

  Jacen shivered. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to.” The older man sighed, not wearily, but as if he were letting tension boil off. “I know what we are doing is right, Jacen. The battle here is for two ends. The first is to preserve Ithor and its fleeing population. The second, which is equally important, is to inflict a defeat on the Vong. We need them to know the easy course of their invasion so far isn’t going to continue. If they pay a price here, they may reconsider further action.

  “I don’t expect you to understand it at your age, because I didn’t until well past it, but I just know that what I’m doing is right.” He smiled. “I can feel it in my gut. It’s just what has to be done.”

  Jacen heard the conviction in Corran’s voice and took heart in it for a second, then frowned as his mouth soured. “I felt that way about freeing the slaves on Belkadan, and you know how that turned out.”

  Corran looped an arm over Jacen’s shoulders. “Um, kid, you’ve got a lot to learn about this morale thing.”

  “Just trying to be realistic.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Corran smiled grimly and steered Jacen along to their staging area. “I have a feeling we’re going to get realism washed over us in waves. I just hope we don’t drown.”

  “Indeed, I am rather surprised to see you still here, cousin.” Admiral Traest Kre’fey stood forward on the Ralroost’s bridge, watching the spacescape over Ithor. Out in the distance a number of dagger-shaped ships orbited the planet—with fewer of them belonging to the New Republic than to the Imperial Remnant. “I would have thought you’d have made your way back toward the Core with High Priest Tawron.”

  Borsk Fey’lya avoided shrugging, though fur did ripple at the back of his neck. “There were reasons I stayed.”

  Not the least being that Leia Organa Solo has not fled as your cabinet has? Traest left his thoughts unvoiced, though he felt the chief of the New Republic might have read them in his feral smile. “And reasons you wished to speak to me?”

  “Speak to you? No.” Fey’lya smiled carefully. “I wanted you here as a witness.” He nodded toward the communications officer. “You may put the connection through now.”

  Lieutenant Arr’yka looked to the admiral for permission.

  Traest held a hand up for a moment. “And whom do you want to speak with?”

  “Admiral Pellaeon.” Fey’lya nodded toward the Chimaera glimmering in the distance. “Since you are not so bold as to champion your own cause, it becomes incumbent upon me to do so. I will demand the leadership of this operation fall to you. It is a New Republic world; you should be leading its defense.”

  “I see.” A hint of a growl entered Traest’s voice, then he nodded to the lieutenant. “Open communications with Admiral Pellaeon, please.”

  The two Bothans waited in silence for a handful of seconds, then Pellaeon appeared in life-size holo as imposing as he did in life. “Yes, Admiral Kre’fey?”

  “My compliments, Admiral. I did not want to disturb you, but Chief Borsk Fey’lya wishes to urge you to give me command of the Ithorian defense. Before he did that, I thought I would let him hear your orders concerning the matter.”

  The human nodded and smoothed his white mustache with his left hand. “As per Imperial directive 59826, if I am replaced as commander of the Ithorian defense, all Imperial ships and personnel are to be withdrawn to Bastion immediately.”

  “Thank you, Admiral. Sorry for wasting your time. Kre’fey out.”

  The Bothan admiral turned to face his cousin. “Will that be all?”

  He could see by the crest of fur rising at Borsk Fey’lya’s neck that it would not be. “This is an outrage! The Remnant has no place defending this world. It is our world. We must be in command of the defense. There can be no other way!”

  Traest extended his right hand toward Fey’lya, palm up, fingers clawed, and unsheathed his talons. “On Coruscant you agreed to leave the defense of the New Republic to the military. I warned you that if you tried to interfere, I would withdraw my forces to the Unknown Regions. I can and will yet do that. If I do, Admiral Pellaeon will pull his forces out. Ithor will be defenseless.”

  Fey’lya’s violet eyes widened. “But you can’t. The troops you have on the ground would be abandoned. And the Jedi . . . you would not leave them—”

  “No? Try me. You don’t care about the Jedi. If you had your way, they would all perish here. You’d praise their sacrifice, build memorials to them, then happily dance on their graves.” Traest’s amethyst eyes hardened, letting light glint from the gold flecks in them. “As for leaving Ithor behind, you have no idea where I’ve sent the refugees. There will be Ithorian colonies throughout the New Republic and Unknown Regions. Yes, it will take years before the bafforr trees can produce their pollen again, but I can spend that time building up armies to come and crush the Yuuzhan Vong. I warned you before that is what I would do, and I will. One word from me and the dependents for every warrior in my command will be moved to worlds of my choosing.”

  “You are insubordinate! I will remove you from command.” Fey’lya turned and pointed at two Bothan security officers standing beside the access hatch to the bridge. “Arrest Admiral Kre’fey and conduct him from the bridge.”

  Neither of the Bothans stirred or gave any sign they’d even heard the command.

  Traest peered down his nose at his cousin. “We are in a war zone, cousin. Your power ended when you entered this system. You have a choice—” He wa
s cut off by Pellaeon’s sudden holographic appearance.

  “Forgive me, Admiral, but the Vong have reached attack range. They have launched; we have incoming. It has begun. Case Seven, it appears.”

  “Thank you, Admiral. Case Seven it is.” Traest looked through the Imperial’s vanishing hologram. “Case Seven, slave our targeting computers to telemetry from the Chimaera. Scramble all fighters. This is not a drill, people. Fight well and we’ll live to see the Yuuzhan Vong repulsed.”

  Traest stepped in close to Fey’lya and dropped his voice to a whisper. “The choice I was going to offer you was to return to your quarters, or to get on a ship and flee before the enemy deployed its forces. That latter choice is gone now, but I offer you another. You can remain here, on the bridge, and silently show your support for those who will fight to save your life, or you can slink away in terror and hope the Yuuzhan Vong attacks never breach your cabin’s bulkheads.”

  Fey’lya lifted his chin. “You may have contempt for me now, cousin, but in my day, when Imperials were our enemies, I spilled blood. I’ve known combat, and I’ve not run from it.”

  “Good, because the Yuuzhan Vong are worse than anything you ever faced.” Traest raised his voice so everyone on the bridge could hear him. “Yes, cousin, your help here would be wonderful. If there is a need, I will let you know what to do. Until then, just having you here, honoring my staff with your presence, is more valuable to our effort than you could know.”

  Jaina Solo’s X-wing sailed out high above the Ralroost and rolled left to come into position within Rogue Squadron’s formation. Anni Capstan dropped in on her starboard S-foil and drifted back a couple of meters. A quick glance at the displays showed her screens up at full, her inertial compensator field expanded to protect them from Yuuzhan Vong dovin basals, and her weapons systems fully charged and green.

  “Eleven hot and green.”

  Sparky hooted and started painting tactical data on her primary monitor. In an eye blink a dozen Yuuzhan Vong targets scrolled past. The monitor displayed a huge Yuuzhan Vong cruiser, bigger than anything she’d seen before. It bristled with long spines of yorick coral, though the core of it seemed to have started life as an asteroid onto which the other pieces had been grafted.