by Greg Keyes
The warrior woman gave this question several moments' consideration. "An interesting one," she decided, speaking without the slightest inflection of humor.
Alema huffed and folded her arms. "Oh, good. I for one could use the excitement."
The others added their assent-minus the Twi'lek's sarcasm. Jaina held back to the last, using the time to consider other possibilities.
Her last visit to Hapes had been enlivened by the attempted assassination of the former queen mother, Tenel Ka's grandmother, an attack that had included Tenel Ka and the Solo twins. This event had not been a unique experience. During her eighteen years, Jaina could probably tally up more threats to her life than her mother had hairstyles. People tried to kill her-that's just the way it was. That didn't factor largely into Jaina's hesitation. Of greater concern was her fear that the Hapes Cluster might prove an unlikely staging ground for any attack against the Yuuzhan Vong.
She had no idea what form that attack might take. All she knew was that losing custody of Jacen Solo was going to be the very last thing a lot of Yuuzhan Vong ever did.
"Jaina?" Ganner prompted.
"I'm taking Tenel Ka's reservations seriously," she said, offering an explanation for her delayed response, "but I'm with Zekk. Dozens of worlds are so afraid of Yuuzhan Vong reprisals that they're not accepting refugees of any kind. Even if we were flying a Republic ship, we could get
turned away more than once. We might be able to land on a sparsely populated world, but getting off it could be a problem. With Tenel Ka's connections, we'll be able to get the ships and supplies we need to get back in business."
"Sounds good," Ganner agreed. "Let's see what sense Lowbacca can make of this escape pod."
The Wookiee let out a tentative-sounding grumble.
Jaina whirled to face him. "You heard it? What does that mean?"
Lowbacca pantomimed pulling down the cognition hood. He went into a long explanation about the navi-brain, and how it interpreted an object's gravity and used these data as the basis for its directional calculations. The escape pod, even when docked in the frigate, maintained a complex internal gravity, which the incredibly sensitive navibrain perceived.
A seed took root in Jaina's mind. "So you're saying this ship's navigation is based on its recognition of each planet, each asteroid, and everything else it encounters as a discrete entity, based on that entity's unique gravity?"
The Wookiee considered this, then woofed an affirmative.
"What about small gravitic fluctuations?" she demanded. "Like the kind a Yuuzhan Vong ship creates for propulsion?"
Lowbacca tipped his head to one side and sent her an inquiring stare.
"Before we launch Tenel Ka, I want to make sure we can track the escape pod," Jaina explained. "From what you're saying, it sounds to me like that's how it would be done."
Intrigued, he ambled off to test this theory. The other Jedi scattered to tend their duties, or to get much-needed rest. Jaina accepted Zekk's offer to take over for a while and made her way to one of the small coral alcoves that served as cabins.
As soon as she was alone, she allowed a small, triumphant smile to creep onto her face. If her suspicions proved correct, a Yuuzhan Vong ship could identify another ship by its unique gravitic signature. Jaina was confident that Lowbacca would find a way to isolate a ship's "signal." Her friend was stubborn, even for a Wookiee. Once he got an idea in his head, it couldn't be blasted out with a thermal detonator. And when he succeeded, Jaina would be one small step closer to finding her brother.
"We're coming for you," she promised as she stretched out on the hard, narrow bunk. "I'll find you, Jacen, I promise."
She paused for a moment, breathing carefully until she was able to control the entangled anger and grief and guilt that thoughts of her brothers evoked.
"And when I do, we've got a few things to settle," she added, imbuing her words with just enough snap and ire to catch Jacen's attention, wherever he was.
She listened for some response, some tiny sign that her twin heard. That he was.
Silence.
With a sigh, Jaina gave up the attempt. She began the preparation for the Jedi trance, a deep and healing state of reverie.
Her last conscious thought was gratitude that no dreams could follow her into the darkness.
SEVEN
Harrar stood at the viewport of his personal chamber, gazing into the richly starred blackness beyond. So many worlds lay beyond, offering not only conquest, but a much-needed haven as well.
He did not desire peace. Not really. Yet even as this thought formed, the priest lifted a three-fingered hand to trace a crack in the once smooth wall. His ship had once resembled a perfect, highly polished black gem. It was becoming shabby with age, as were most Yuuzhan Vong ships. Harrar suspected the priestship was nearing the end of its long life span.
The ship's condition, however, was nothing compared to the warmaster's dilemma. Tsavong Lah had sacrificed most of one arm to win the gods' blessing upon the conquest of Coruscant. The battle had been won, but the warmaster's implant still refused to heal. If the corruption progressed, Harrar's old friend-who was also his most powerful and reliable supporter-would be forced from his high place. The priest suspected that his destiny, no less than the warmaster's, depended upon the successful capture and sacrifice of the Jedi twins.
"Your Eminence."
The priest turned toward the sound, carefully hiding his surprise and his chagrin that he could be surprised. Despite his impressive bulk and the vonduun crab armor he wore even aboard ship, Khalee Lah walked as quiet
as a shadow. Had he been any other warrior, Harrar would have suspected that he was deliberately trying to discomfit his clerical charge.
"I trust this intrusion is justified?" he said sharply.
Khalee Lah inclined his head. "We have located the stolen ship, Eminence. The Ksstarr was sighted near Coruscant, but it managed to escape during the confusion of battle. It emerged from darkspace again approximately midpoint between the worlds known as Kuat and Kashyyyk."
"And now?"
"We believe the Jeedai will head toward the Hapes Cluster. We have set course accordingly."
Harrar's lingering irritation deepened. "If the frigate is capable of darkspace travel, the Jeedai could choose from many destinations."
"That is true, Eminence, but Nom Anor's ship was damaged during its escape from the worldship. The Ksstarr is famished and wounded, and without proper care it will soon die. Surely even these infidels will sense it is nearing its limits."
"Your logic is thin," the priest noted.
Khalee Lah inclined his head in apology. "One of the Jeedai, a female, is a scion of Hapan royalty," he added. "This was learned during the breaking. Not from this Jeedai, but from another."
Harrar heard a note of grudging admiration in the warrior's voice. "This female did not succumb to breaking, I take it. Good. The additional gift of a worthy Jeedai may placate the gods for this delay in the twin sacrifice. What is this infidel called?"
"Tenel Ka. It is said that she fought well, though she has but one arm. Other infidels have replaced limbs with mechanical abominations. Not this one." His scarred lips shaped a predatory smile. "If fitted with a proper
enhancement, she might prove a worthy opponent, or at least an interesting diversion."
"In that case, you may offer her yourself in a warrior's sacrifice," Harrar said. His sloped forehead furrowed as he considered this. "Many ships from Hapes died along with ours at the Battle of Fondor, destroyed by a killing light from some mechanical abomination. Given what is known of the infidels, it is widely believed that they tossed away what they deemed unimportant. Based upon this reasoning, the Hapes Cluster was considered unworthy of our notice. Yet if this Jeedai is typical of Hapan nobles, perhaps this merits new consideration."
The warrior sniffed. "The Hapes Cluster is not controlled by the Yuuzhan Vong, but it is vanquished nonetheless. Since Fondor, the infidels of the Hapes C
luster have huddled on their worlds and done nothing." "And the Jeedai presence there?" "None to speak of; in fact, there is much animosity against them. The Peace Brigade has found eager recruits among the Hapans. We have sent word ahead to several known agents."
Harrar studied the warrior carefully. Something was amiss. Khalee Lah had answered every question forth-rightly, but he offered no more information than Harrar requested. "There is more," he observed. "You are not telling me all. A priest of Yun-Harla has ways of knowing such things."
This time the warrior's bow was deep and profound, and he touched two fingers to his horned forehead in a gesture of reverence. "I am a military commander, Eminence. Certain tactics depend upon secrecy for success. I can discuss these tactics only with my superiors."
The warrior's impolitic words sent a twinge of annoyance through Harrar. He banished it at once, for the warrior's candor, not to mention his keen piety, suggested a tactic likely to twist matters around to Harrar's benefit.
"You command my escort. Mine," the priest emphasized. "You support the task given to me by no less an authority than Tsavong Lah. If the warmaster is not highly placed enough to suit you, consider this what Yuuzhan Vong warrior is not subject to the gods? And who better to interpret the will of the gods than a high priest?"
Khalee Lah genuflected. "I am fairly rebuked. Command me."
"You seem certain of the Ksstarr's destination. Tell me why."
"We have heavily mined the areas under our control with dovin basals," he said slowly. "These have the ability to disrupt the flight of infidel vessels, sometimes even to pull them from darkspace flight."
"I know this," the priest said impatiently.
"These dovin basals also communicate with passing Yuuzhan Vong ships. The passage of every ship is recorded, and the information passed to the yammosk in scouting ships. Potentially important information is passed to the commanders, perhaps up to the warmaster himself."
The priest's eyes widened. "So the military is monitoring all Yuuzhan Vong ships."
"It was deemed prudent, Eminence. No disrespect was intended to the priestly caste or to our shapers."
Harrar kept his opinions on this matter to himself. "This policy makes our task considerably lighter. We will proceed to Hapes."
The scent in the chamber changed subtly, indicating an imminent emergence from darkspace. The priest and the warrior settled down in secured seats for the transition.
As the priestship shuddered and slowed, a host of still-unfamiliar planets and stars streaked into existence, then settled into fixed points of light. Khalee Lah nodded in satisfaction as he noticed several bright green pinpricks in the distance. The lights traced a half circle and began to move steadily toward the priestship.
"Peace Brigade," he said, his voice edged with disdain. "Years among the infidels, and this is the sort of alliance Nom Anor secures!"
"At least they are prompt, and capable enough to meet us at the indicated place. You should take care in suggesting that the executor's decisions might prove to be mistakes."
"There are those who believe they already have," the warrior said bluntly.
Harrar suppressed a sly smile. Once the ice broke, waters flowed freely. "You seem well informed of events near Myrkr."
"Naturally the military has informants on that world-ship. The shapers on Yavin Four failed to meet their objectives, and we can ill afford additional failures. Much rested upon the success of the voxyn cloning."
This was important information, things that Harrar had not known, things that it might be dangerous to know. "I see," he murmured.
"This precaution was deemed prudent," Khalee Lah went on. "Nom Anor has fallen short more than once. Members of his crew report to me, and I, in turn, inform the warmaster."
The priest decided to test the boundaries of the young warrior's candor-and his judgment. "Name these agents." Khalee Lah did so, without question or hesitation. "Did it never occur to you that your unguarded response might have purchased the death of these informants?" the priest said sternly.
"There is no one in this chamber but you and me," Khalee Lah said, his scarred brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Two or twenty, it matters not. Tsavong Lah is in an extremely precarious position. His implants have not yet healed. There are powerful shapers and more than a few priests on the verge of declaring this to be a sign of the gods' disfavor. Information is like plasma; it can bind or
it can burn. The fool who dispenses it too freely makes himself a weapon that anyone-warrior, shaper, priest, Shamed One, even infidel-can use at will."
The warrior's scarred face darkened with wrath. He rose slowly, ominously, to tower over the slender priest.
"Oh, sit down!" Harrar said irritably. "I was advising you to learn discretion, not admitting to treachery!"
Khalee Lah looked uncertain. "Your devotion to the warmaster?"
"Unchanged since our shared youth," he responded.
"You evoked the gods in order to extract military information!"
"I am a priest of Yun-Harla," Harrar said with exaggerated precision. "My words were shaped to suit a desired end. That is what we do. Put your mind at ease, and pray attempt to develop some subtlety."
The warrior inclined his head respectfully, then turned toward the viewport and things more closely aligned with his understanding. Together they watched the approach of the strange ship.
Harrar observed the infidel vessel with a mixture of fascination and revulsion. Although obviously mechanical, it was built to resemble a gigantic insect. Thin metallic wings angled up from a curved, segmented body. Two pairs of limbs coiled at either side of the body like reverse-articulated legs. The rounded cockpit resembled a head, and when viewed from the side, the glossy black viewport looked like an insect's huge multiple eyes.
"I underestimated these infidels. Who would have thought them capable of such blatant insult to the gods?" Khalee Lah muttered. He lifted his voice to the priest's guards. "Secure the infidel ship and bring all those aboard to me."
A green-and-yellow-tattooed female came at his call. Like Khalee Lah, she was sheathed in living armor. Hers was a mottled green, a good match for one of the verdant
worlds so plentiful in this galaxy. One day Harrar hoped to claim such a world as his own, and the armor for his personal guard was shaped with scouting in mind. Now that he knew his travels were tracked and reported, however, he would have to exercise more discretion.
Harrar's attention snapped back to the two creatures who trailed the guard. His lip curled. These were two of the most disreputable excuses for human males Harrar had yet encountered.
Both were tall and might once have been considered well formed. One had grown too thin for health, and his prominent nose was framed by fever-bright black eyes. A persistent tic of one eye and a nervous twitching of that prodigious snout lent him a remarkable similarity to a hairless rodent. The other man had an abundance of bright reddish hair that rioted in a curly mass down to his shoulders and sprouted in an equally undisciplined fashion from his cheeks and chin. His lack of discipline knew no bounds his massive arms had gone soft, and a slack roll of belly hung over his weapons belt.
Khalee Lah made no effort to hide his disdain. "Name yourselves."
Both men performed jerky, graceless bows. "Benwick Chell," the hairy one announced. "My copilot, Vonce."
"You are members of the Peace Brigade?"
"That's right."
"Why?"
The humans blinked in unison and exchanged wary glances. "Why?" the one called Benwick echoed.
"The question is simple enough," Khalee Lah said. "What do you hope to gain from this alliance?"
"Our lives," the man said bluntly.
Khalee Lah sniffed. "A paltry reward."
"That may be," the bearded man retorted, showing the first hint of spine since his arrival, "but it's hard for a dead man to spend reward credits."
"An interesting philosophy," Harrar broke in, "but a discussion best suited to othe
r circumstances. We require more agents in this sector. Tell us what would prompt Hapans to join forces with the Yuuzhan Vong."
"There's not much to do. Most of it's already done. You have to know a bit of our history," the man began, warming to his subject as he spoke. "Hundreds of years ago, Hapes was settled by pirates."
Khalee Lah tapped at his ear, urging the tizowyrm embedded there to produce a translation he could understand.
"I have heard of pirates," Harrar broke in. "You waylay ships and steal their cargo."
"And sometimes their passengers," the man said meaningfully. "You might say the job you want done is preprogrammed into our computers."
"You are a fool," Khalee Lah said, snarling, "and your ship is a blasphemous bug. Our quarry, pathetic though it is, would splatter you with a single swat."
The human jerked his hairy red head toward the docking bay at the priestship's stern. "The wasp ship is a scouting vessel, no more. Once we find the frigate, we'll attack in force."
"And who would command this attack?"
Benwick's chin came up. "I would."
Khalee Lah threw up his hands and stalked away. The human pursued him. "Don't think I can't. I spent the last fifteen years in the Hapan navy, six of them as a squadron commander."
The warrior spun, bringing the man up short. "Why th en do you not resist our invasion?"
"Tried that," he said shortly. "It didn't work."
Harrar was beginning to see the light. "You were at Fondor."
"My squadron was destroyed-thanks to the witch
queen and her meddling Jedi friend. So we returned to our ancestral profession."
"You deserted," Khalee Lah specified. Harrar noted the storm brewing on the young warrior's face and instinctively took a step forward. Not fast enough.
The warrior snapped his left arm up, elbow back and fist cocked by his ear, two fingers stiffened into a living weapon. He lashed out and drove his fingers into the big man's throat. The red-bearded man's head snapped back. He staggered several paces and then fell, clutching at his strangely blocked throat and gasping for air. Khalee advanced, and his eyes promised death.