Star Wars: New Jedi Order Book 8b: Emissary of the Void

by Greg Keyes

  Something that–unlike the stars–did indeed take an interest in what happened to Vook.

  In this, he took no comfort at all. His mind wandered back to the conversation–only an hour or so before–that had crashed him into this situation, and he sighed.

  He answered the hail.

  “This is Vook Gehu of the No Luck Required. I need help. The rest of the crew is dead, and I am injured. My sensor grid is down and my ship is badly damaged. I am in great need of assistance.”

  The comm unit sputtered and clucked, then spoke to him in a harsh, nasal baritone.

  “You have found your assistance, infidel,” the reply came. “I am Vintul Cat of the Yuuzhan Vong. Shut down all of your auxiliary systems and prepare to be boarded.”

  Vook vented another sigh and keyed the return. “Hello, Yuuzhan Vong,” he said. “So runs my luck–I hoped to attract a friendly ship, but I see my gamble has failed.”

  “There is no luck,” Qat replied. “There are only the gods and what they will.”

  “Yes? Then you may tell your gods I will not be boarded, Vintul Qat, not by you or any other of your despicable kind. I shall die before surrendering.”

  “By your own admission you have no sensors,” Qat replied. “Your ship is losing atmosphere.”

  “My weapons are still on line,” Vook replied. “And my reactor is damaged, yes. Indeed, in its condition it might well make a better weapon than a power source. Consider that, and come for me at your peril.”

  “My ship is full of captives,” the Yuuzhan Vong said. “Some of your own kind. Should you manage to destroy it, you will kill many more infidels than glorious Yuuzhan Vong.”

  “Better they die than receive the fate you offer them,” Vook said.

  “In any event, it is moot,” Qat snapped. “We are out of your range.”

  “For the time being,” Vook replied. “Try and board me.”

  “I can be patient,” Qat replied. “In a short time, your reactor will either go critical or fail. If it overloads, I’ll watch you die. If it does not, I will take you then.”

  “Delude yourself if you wish,” Vook muttered. “It makes no difference to me. You destroyed my planet and scattered my people. Do not think you will find me easy prey, no matter the condition of my ship.”

  Vintul Qat’s only answer was a harsh laugh.

  Vook closed his eyes, wishing it were an hour ago, when the boss was still with him.

  Realspace was somehow always a surprise after the nothingness of hyperspace. The relativistic universe was never quite as Uldir remembered it, as if his mind protected itself from the absurdity of faster-than‑light travel by distancing itself from the reality it had been formed to comprehend.

  Whatever the cause, reversion was one of Uldir’s greatest pleasures, even if the view was–from any other perspective–unimpressive.

  But sometimes the show was better than all expectations, and for the crew and single passenger of the No Luck Required, thiswas one of those times.

  From their entry above the system’s elliptic plane, the primary was a blue‑white jewel, a spark of electricity captured and made constant. But something had reached into the star and tugged out a streamer of glowing plasma, pulled it in an arc half a light year long before twisting it into a spiral that wound tighter and tighter before vanish­ing. Intersecting the spiral and girdling the blue pinprick was a vast, faintly glowing indigo torus.

  His instruments and charts told him that the cause of the phe­nomenon was a black hole, sucking matter into the nowhere of its event horizon, the great wreaththestray hydrogen atoms that had escaped to orbit in the singularity’s path, but the cause didn’t matter. For a moment, beauty swept everything from Uldir’ s mind, including the absurdly dangerous business that had brought him and his com­panions to this unpopulated system along the Hydian Way.

  ‘They aren’t here,’ Vega Sepen pronounced in that terribly certain way that meant “I told you so.”

  Uldir glanced at the platinum‑haired Corellian, wondering if she felt anything beneath that tough exterior, if the wonder of the uni­verse penetrated through those steely eyes to the person beneath.

  Maybe. He thought he caught a glimpse of blue fire in them, not a reflection from without but a light from within.

  At least that’s what he imagined he perceived for about a nanosec­ond. In that instant, he saw Vega in a very different way. The angular plains of her face seemed softer–younger, though she hadn’t yet seen her thirtieth standard year. He realized with a start that she was pretty, in a quirky way. Hadn’t he ever noticed that before?

  Then the moment was gone as if it was a quantum phenomenon, destroyed by observation.

  “Boss?” Vega’s voice became more insistent.

  “What?”

  “Where are you? I said they’re not here. No sign of any Yuuzhan Vong vessels in the system.”

  “Our sensors aren’t that good,” Uldir said.

  “Well, no, not if they’re hiding. But this sector of space is com­pletely under Yuuzhan Vong control, and they have nil reason to expect company. What with that black hole down there, and all of the attendant gravitational hoopla in this system, there are only a few places it makes sense to drop out and plot the next jump. This is one of them–I’ve checked the others. Nothing.”

  “They’ll be here,” another feminine voice said.

  Vega raised her eyebrows in the same way Uldir had once seen her do when she’d discovered a Barraken weed‑scorpion stalking her. Then, the small forehead twitch had been quickly followed by a blaster rifle discharge. Uldir tensed, involuntarily.

  The new speaker, Klin‑Fa Gi, tensed too, her Jedi senses doubtless warning her of danger. Klin‑Fa was small, with dark eyes and black hair hanging in bangs. Her eyes narrowed as if challenging Vega.

  “Yeah?” Vega’s voice was soft, but it was myynsilk wrapped around durasteel. “How do you know they haven’t already been here and gone?”

  “I would know,” Klin‑Fa replied.

  “Ah, the infallible, inscrutable Jedi,” Vega scoffed. “But I thought you couldn’t feel the Yuuzhan Vong in the Force?”

  “I can’t,” Klin‑Fa said. “I feel Bey.”

  Uldir never liked it when the Klin‑Fa said that name. He’d never met the fellow but was developing the opinion that he wasn’t going to like him if he ever did.

  “Good,” Vega said. “Just find him on the sensors now, and you can contribute something useful.”

  “They’ll be here. I feel it.”

  “Great,” Vega said. She rolled her eyes.

  Klin‑Fa pressed her lips in a tight line and didn’t reply. Uldir felt a momentary desire to defend the young Jedi. She’d changed out of the living Yuuzhan Vong cloaker she’d worn when she came aboard and was now dressed in a pair of Vook’s red coveralls. They were too big for her, making her seem small and vulnerable.

  Yeah, right, he reminded himself. Small and vulnerable enough to cut a Yuuzhan Vong warrior in half at the waist. He’d seen her do exactly that. Not to mention the grief she’d put his crew, his ship, and himself through‑stranding them in the middle of nowhere, for instance. She was big trouble in a small package. Vega was right‑he was crazy to trust her after all she’d done.

  Still ...

  “Move out of the safe point,” he told Vega, “and power down. I don’t want them seeing us when they get here.”

  “When?” Vega asked skeptically.

  “If,” Uldir conceded. “And Vook, you and Uvee run diagnostics on the weapons systems and shields again. It was a minor miracle you managed to patch our girl up in the time you did–if we have a breather, I want to use it to bring our combat readiness to maximum.”

  “Well, that makes sense at least,” Vega allowed. “How’s this? We go find a Star Destroyer and come back. That should improve our chances a little. This isn’t a warship we have here.”

  “We’re not exactly defenseless, Vega,” Uldir pointed out.

&nbs
p; “And our target isn’t a warship either,” Klin‑Fa added.

  “Every Vong ship is a warship,” Vega countered. “And it’ll come escorted:”

  Klin‑Fa rolled her eyes. “We’re talking about a Yuuzhan Vong slave transport traveling through secure Vong territory. The Yuuzhan Vong are proud–escort will be minimal, because they won’t want to seem like cowards. Besides, when I infiltrated their data systems I noticed something interesting–one out of every three warships on duty in this sector has been relocated. It happened almost overnight.”

  Vega frowned. “That sounds like they’re starting a new offensive. Now that’s something worth knowing. Shouldn’t we be reporting that instead of trying to rescue some old lover‑boy of yours?”

  Klin‑Fa colored slightly. “That isn’t what this is about. It’s not about Bey, or me. Jedi fight, Jedi die. We know the risks. Bey knew the risks–but the secret he carries is crucial. And it’s more important than any conventional Yuuzhan Vong offensive.”

  “Despite the fact that you don’t know exactly what this hypothet­ical new weapon of theirs is,” Vega said.

  Klin‑Fa crossed her arms and leaned against the bulkhead. “I know they believe it will all but end the New Republic’s resistance to their invasion.”

  “Well, yes, that’s what you say,” Vega replied. “That and two hydrogen atoms will get you helium if you squeeze hard enough.”

  “That’s enough,” Uldir cut in. “This debate is over.”

  Vega looked surprised at his tone, and he realized he had been uncharacteristically harsh.

  But Klin‑Fa had blushed when Vega referred to Bey as her ‘lover­boy.’ Uldir liked the missing Jedi less every second.

  “Just‑“ he stopped, sighed. “Vega, I may be crazy, but I believe her. And I’m the captain, last I heard. We’re doing this. I need your support now, not your dissent.”

  Vega’s eyes widened. “Boss, just because I don’t agree with you doesn’t mean I’m not a hundred percent there for you. I am with you.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “I mean, even if were to think this were a bone‑headed, irresponsi­ble, absurdly dangerous gambit to salvage the remaining shreds of your masculinity‑“

  “Point taken, Vega. You’re with me. Now shut up.”

  “Yes, sir. Always eager to shut up.”

  “I’m with you too, captain,” Vook’s voice came over the intercom. “And we’ll be ready to fight, I promise you.” He sounded confident, for a change. Vook never sounded that way.

  Vega noticed it too. “Is that really Vook?” She asked softly.

  “I don’t know,” Uldir replied, muting the comm unit. “After that outburst of his yesterday–I’d better have a talk with him.”

  He found Vook in the turret, working at the turbolaser. He didn’t look up as Uldir came in. His flat Duro face registered no emotion Uldir recognized.

  “Vook, is there a problem?”

  “No, sir. I’m adjusting the phase modulation for more efficient fire.”

  “That’s great, but I wasn’t talking about the turbolaser. I was talk­ing about my mechanic.”

  “I’m fine, sir,” Vook said, stiffly. “I can do my job.”

  “I’d never question your ability to do your job, Vook. I’m worried about your anger.”

  “The Yuuzhan Vong destroyed my homeworld,” Vook said bluntly. “My people flew among the stars when most species in this galaxy were still subsisting on the fruits and bugs of their native forests. To be destroyed by the Yuuzhan Vong, by barbarians who don’t even have brains to comprehend what they’ve done–” he broke off.

  “No one expects you to have any love for the Yuuzhan Vong, Vook. No one expects you not to mourn your homeworld–”

  “Yes. Mourn is what I do. Don’t you think I know what you all think of me? Vook the mournful. Vook the always sad. Poor old Vook. Well, I’m tired of it. If my choice is to be between misery and anger, I’ll take the anger, sir. It feels better.”

  “Those aren’t the only two options,” Uldir pointed out.

  “Sir, with all due respect, you have no homeworld to lose. You wouldn’t understand.”

  Uldir was silent for a moment.

  “There was an arboretum on Bburru. Did you know it?”

  Vook’s brow wrinkled oddly. “Yes.”

  “I spent my fifth and my eleventh birthdays there. There was one tree in particular, a big olop, and if you sang near it, it would chime an accompaniment–”

  “I remember the tree,” Vook said. “It was a native of the home­world, the last of its kind. They were trying to clone it when the Vong destroyed the city. Now it’s lost forever.”

  “Yeah,” Uldir said. “I’ll miss it.”

  “Not as I will,” the Duro replied.

  “Probably not. That’s not my point. I spent my fourth birthday on Coruscant. I spent my fifteenth on Yavin Four. You’re right, Vook, I have no homeworld. My parents were traders and freighter pilots, and I grew up in the space lanes. This galaxy is my homeworld. Look what the Yuuzhan Vong have done to it”

  Vook dropped his head and nodded slightly. “I understand.”

  “I know you do. I don’t hurt more than you do Vook–that’s a com­petition I can live without. But you can’t turn inward and imagine that not all of us have lost something. And you can’t give in to your anger. My Jedi training may have been a bust, but I know that much. Anger isn’t good for anyone, Jedi or no. It just feels that way.”

  Vook sighed. “There is logic in what you say. Logic ought to be comforting. It is not.”

  Uldir cocked his head quizzically. “Why now, Vook? Why, after all this time are your emotions just now getting the better of you?”

  Vook turned back to the turbolaser. “It’s this Jedi woman. She’s made me understand how little I actually do:”

  “She said something to you?”

  “No. But she acts. She takes the fight to the Vong. So do you.”

  “No I don’t,” Uldir averred. “I’m a rescue pilot. I became a rescue pilot because I didn’t have what it took to be a Jedi, but I wanted to be like them–to help people in trouble. Jedi don’t live to kill, Vook, not the good ones. They avoid it when they can. Sometimes they avoid it at the cost of their own lives. I passed up offers from half‑a-­dozen fighter squadrons because I like doing what I do. We’ve been in a lot of scrapes the past week or so, but never because I wanted to attack the Yuuzhan Vong. Never because I wanted to kill one. I’m just trying to do my job–a job that would be impossible without you, by the way. We could never have escaped Wayland without your expertise, Vook. Who else could have fixed our hyperdrive with century‑old junk? Why do you think I requested you for my crew?”

  “You requested me?” The Duro sounded genuinely surprised.

  “Of course. What did you think?”

  “I thought–I mean no one else...”

  “Vook, you’re the best mechanic the service has. And I like you.”

  Vook dropped his gaze to the deck, and then lifted it to meet Uldir’s. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Now–”

  “Hey, boys,” Vega’s voice came over the intercom.

  “What is it?”

  “We’ve got company.”

  “Looks like your sweetheart was right after all,” Vega said, as Uldir entered the cockpit. “It’s late, but that’s definitely a Yuuzhan Vong transport.”

  “Big,” Leaft–the fourth member of the crew–grunted. The Dug scratched behind his ear with one of his foot‑hands.

  Uldir silently agreed. Irregular but vaguely lozenge‑shaped, the transport looked to be half a kilometer long. Like all Yuuzhan Vong vessels, it gave Uldir the impression of some sort of thousand‑legged sea creature, though it had no limbs in evidence.

  “Minimal crew, though,” Klin‑Fa said. “I was on one just like it. Most of the space is reserved for captives.”

  “Escort?” Uldir asked.

  “Four skips,” Vega answered.
“Nothing we can’t handle.”

  “I don’t like it,” Uldir said. “It seems too easy.”

  “Easy?” Vega said. “Maybe if our goal was to blow it out of the sky. But we’re aiming to capture that thing, remember? Without killing this Bey Gandan fellow or any of the other captives.”

  “Yeah,” Uldir agreed.”That is the tricky part. But Klin‑Fa has an idea.” “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Vega wondered.

  “Follow her plan?” Leaft snarled. “I’d sooner milk a rancor.”

  “I don’t think rancors produce milk,” Vook commented over the intercom.

  “Just listen to her,” Uldir said. “Klin‑Fa?”

  The Jedi nodded, made a point of meeting Leaft’s angry gaze, then cleared her throat.

  “When I was on Wayland, I managed access to one of the Yuuzhan Vong data‑storage modules, what they call a qahsa. That’s how I dis­covered which ship Bey would be on and where it was going. I also had a look at the structural design of the ship. The outer hull doesn’t have nerve endings, but the inner hull does. Breech it, and alarms go off everywhere.”

  “Okay,” Vega said. “We knew that.”

  “Here’s something you may not know. Near the dovin basal, the inner hull nerves are compromised.”

  “Compromised?” Uldir said.

  “Yes. The dovin basals are creatures in their own right–they don’t grow as a part of the ship but are nursed separately and then grafted on. But it’s not a perfect symbiosis–the gravitic distortion of the dovin basal desensitizes the nerve clusters immediately adjacent to it. In war­ships or on any vessel where it’s important to have a complete tactile net, the Vong compensate by implanting special nerve biots around the dovin basals that aren’t confused by the gravitic anomaly. In transports like this, such a small vulnerability isn’t worth the effort of amending.”

  Leaft switched his scratching to his chin. “So there’s a dead spot where we can breach the hull without them noticing. Great. What’s that mean?”

  “It means the boss really has gone out of his m–” Vega began, then caught Uldir’s glare. “–gone out of his way to really think this plan through,” she finished.