“Sure, right up to the point where you and Luke saved me and her. Don’t think I’m not grateful, I am.” One corner of Anakin’s mouth cocked itself into a grin. “You got me halfway to an answer. I just have to get myself the rest of the way.”
Jacen nodded. It had not escaped him that Anakin had not actually spoken the name “Chewbacca.” The Wookiee’s death had hurt them all, terribly and deeply. He had always been a part of their lives, and when he was taken away, they saw how vastly and to what depth he had been involved with them. His death opened up a gaping wound that, for Jacen, had not yet begun to heal.
All three of them fell silent, turning inward. Anakin looked out the viewport again, but his eyes were focused too distantly to be watching any one thing. Jaina folded her arms across her chest and flounced down on the couch next to Jacen. Her brows furrowed, and Jacen could almost read the memories of Chewbacca radiating off her. For himself, he remembered the softness of the Wookiee’s fur and the gentle strength in his arms, his sense of humor and his infinite patience with human children possessed of Force powers.
“Hey, it’s so quiet down there …”
Jacen looked up at the stairs and saw a man standing there, but it took him a heartbeat to realize it was his father. The voice had helped, but the hitch at the end, and the raw nature of it, surprised him. His father’s clothes hung looser, and his flesh was tinged with a gray pallor instead of the rich bronze from being kissed by so many suns. Han Solo had swept his hair back out of his eyes, but wore it longer than Jacen could ever remember. The length hid some of the gray, but not all of it, especially at the temples.
The greatest discontinuity with his father, though, was the way his initial comment tailed off. Jacen had to have heard him utter the same line a hundred times, usually when things were grim, when the family needed tension broken. His father would smile, open his arms, and say, “It’s so quiet, did somebody die?” That you can’t say that, Father, tells me just how bad it really is.
Jacen heaved himself up from the couch. “Good to see you, Dad. I came as quickly as I could after I got Threepio’s message.”
“I know you did.” Han gave him a confident nod, then started down the stairs. “Goldenrod, you haven’t gotten them anything to drink.”
“Well, Master Solo, the usual custom is—”
“Usual custom? These are my children.” Han smiled. “What will you have?”
Jaina shook her head. “Nothing, I’m good to go.”
“Jacen, you must want something.” Han turned to the protocol droid. “I think I’ll have—”
“It’s okay, Dad, I don’t want anything.”
Han frowned. “Well, I don’t want to be the only one drinking.”
Anakin raised his left hand, waving away any drink request, without turning from the viewport.
The elder Solo shrugged, uneasily, awkwardly, as if his joints needed lubrication. “Well, I guess I can wait until later.”
Jaina looked up at her father. “The message sounded pretty urgent. What’s going on?”
Han took a deep breath, then let it out in a long sigh. He seated himself in a chair, then motioned to Jacen that he should be seated, too. Han then glanced at Anakin and made to wave him over to the couch, but Anakin couldn’t see the gesture.
Han waited a moment for Anakin to move, then, when he did not, just sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Look, I don’t know how to tell you this. It’s not easy …” He stared down at his clasped hands, rubbing one over the other. “Losing Chewie …” His voice failed for a moment, then he swallowed hard.
“It’s okay, Dad, we know.” Jaina gave her father a brave smile. “We all loved Chewie, too.”
Han ran his hand down his face. “Losing him, you know, made me think what else I had that I could lose. That scared me the way I’ve never been scared before. I mean, me, Han Solo, scared.”
Anakin’s chin rose. “Not an easy thing to admit for anyone.”
Their father nodded once, curtly. The gesture was accompanied by a flash of anger and grief that drilled into Jacen.
Jacen moved to stand at his father’s right hand, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder. “We understand. Dad, we really do.”
But his father had already shut him out. “Yeah, well, there’s nothing to understand.”
Jacen sighed. We may beat the Yuuzhan Vong, but will my family survive the battle?
CHAPTER FOUR
Leia Organa Solo slowly rose from her chair in the tiny briefing room. Leaning forward on the edge of the table, she posted her body up on her arms. Her head dipped for a moment, surrendering to the ache in her shoulders, but she looked up quickly enough. She knew the others in the room had to be just as tired as she was, but given the events unfolding, none of them could afford to rest.
Above a holoprojector plate built into the heart of the black table hung a representation of a rimward portion of the New Republic. New Republic worlds and the space between them glowed a soft gold. Up on her left, the Imperial Remnant had been shaded in gray, with the worlds little black pearls. Stabbing into the New Republic like a vibroblade were brown worlds and space. A string of them carved a wedge in the New Republic, just skirting the Remnant border.
“Data just keeps flowing in. The silence from Belkadan, Bimmiel, Dantooine, and Sernpidal should come as a surprise to no one since the Yuuzhan Vong have taken those worlds and they didn’t have much population on them to start. From Dubrillion we still get some reports, but those are becoming fewer and farther between. It does look as if Dubrillion is going to serve as the Yuuzhan Vong headquarters, at least in the short term. From Garqi we’re not getting much, but all indications are that the Yuuzhan Vong have landed, assumed control, and are putting programs into effect for whatever their ends are.”
Admiral Traest Kre’fey, a young Bothan whose violet eyes were flecked with gold, smoothed his snowy white mane. “Refugees are moving through Agamar fairly quickly. We are debriefing qualified witnesses, but your own story of what happened on Dantooine is typical of the sorts of reports we’re getting. The Yuuzhan Vong seem to be using proxy troops for most of the cleanup or hard assault operations. We have reports of slaves being turned out and some rumors about collaborators, but the latter are little more than gossip at this point.”
Borsk Fey’lya, leader of the New Republic, screwed his face up into a snarl. “It is to be expected that some people cower and cling to the strongest force around. We saw plenty of that under the Empire.”
Leia shook her head. “The Yuuzhan Vong are much worse than the Empire ever was.”
“From your perspective, Leia. The Empire dealt with non-humans as dispassionately as you describe these Yuuzhan Vong doing with humans. Now you know what we faced.”
She let one quick guffaw contract her belly, then gave the Bothan a smile full of teeth. “They destroyed my homeworld, Borsk.”
“Ah, yes, we are yet again reminded …”
Borsk Fey’lya’s remark died as Elegos A’Kla, a Caamasi, reached out with a hand and settled it over the Bothan leader’s forearm. Leia saw muscles bunch in Elegos’s arm, and the resulting start from Fey’lya.
The Caamasi’s voice remained even. “While our fatigue may shorten our tempers, we must be mindful of our duty here.” He inclined his head toward the other human in the room. “I notice that General Antilles seems to have a datapad full of notes.”
Wedge Antilles looked up and blinked his brown eyes, then smiled. “I’ve been looking at things the same way I used to look at Imperial installations and moves, and I’ve got some basic questions that need answering.”
Borsk Fey’lya rubbed at his freed forearm. “Such as?”
“Well, first, Sernpidal. They drew a moon down into the planet, setting off a hideous cataclysm. We know we didn’t get all the people off the world. If you check with planetary physicists, civilization would be completely disrupted, and if all living creatures haven’t been killed off completely, they’d be
reduced to scavenging for whatever they could find.”
Fey’lya sniffed. “The Empire destroyed Alderaan, as Leia has pointed out a time or two. Sernpidal was meant to be a message to us.”
Wedge shook his head. “Doesn’t make any sense that way. Remember, they used some sort of creature to pull the moon from orbit. The resources that must have gone into growing a beast of that size and power have to be incredible.”
Elegos raised a gold-furred finger. “How can you be certain of that, General?”
“We’ve had reports of the sort of ships and weapons they use. While their propulsion and defenses rely on creatures that can manipulate gravity in some form or another, none of them have but a fraction of the power that it would have taken to pull a moon from orbit. If creating that sort of creature was easy, the ships and defenses we’ve seen would have been vastly more powerful than they have been.”
Elbows on the table, Wedge pressed his hands together, fingertip to fingertip. “We know the creature on Sernpidal was killed before the moon crashed down. It did not escape before the moon hit; and since disrupting the orbit made the crash inevitable, it’s safe to suggest the Yuuzhan Vong never intended to recover the thing. They considered the result worth the cost of the means necessary to create it. This tells me that they have something else going on at Sernpidal.”
Traest frowned. “I understand your reasoning, Wedge, but your model is based on a profitable return on an investment. What if they don’t think that way? What if such a creature was considered, um, unclean because of what it did? Perhaps they didn’t recover it because they would have been tainted by it.”
“That’s possible.” Wedge shrugged. “If it is, if their thought patterns are so alien to what we know, then anticipating them and countering their movements is going to be impossible.”
Leia scratched at the back of her neck. “While I think the point about expanding our view of the Yuuzhan Vong is important, the sort of facilities my brother found on Belkadan suggests that they actually do need to use the resources of the worlds they’ve taken to replenish or reinforce the things we’ve destroyed. Toward that end I do wonder what they’re doing with Sernpidal’s remains. I’ve read some of the same reports Wedge has, and most folks, save for the Givin, would find the resulting world uninhabitable. Discovering that the Yuuzhan Vong could survive there would expand what we know about them.”
Borsk Fey’lya sat back in his chair, letting the lights from the map dapple his fur with golden highlights. “I understand well the value of learning as much as we can about our foe, but my concern, as leader of the New Republic, is containment of this scourge. I assume, Admiral, that you have redeployed forces to adequately contain these Yuuzhan Vong?”
Traest and Wedge exchanged bemused glances, then the younger Bothan nodded. “As far as it is possible, I have done that, yes. We are staging from Agamar and sending patrols out along known transit routes to gather in any refugees. We organize them into convoys, which we bring to Agamar, load to capacity, and send to the Core. So far we’re not seeing any more Yuuzhan Vong aggression, but our patrols are heavily armed and should acquit themselves well. And we vary the nature of the patrols—their tuning, composition, and the like—so planning an ambush would be difficult and very costly for the Yuuzhan Vong.”
Borsk’s violet eyes half lidded. “ ‘As far as it is possible,’ you said.”
“I did. We’re talking here about a vast amount of space. While a computer can draw a very comforting and pleasing map for us to study, this graphic representation really has nothing to do with the reality of space.” Traest punched a few buttons on his own datapad, and the map shifted radically.
The worlds remained in place and retained their color, but instead of the shading around them, each world sprouted tendrils that linked it to the other worlds. Some were long and looping, others short and direct. As Leia watched, some blinked out of existence, while others stretched and new ones were born. What amazed her the most is how interconnected the worlds were, and how the borders on the previous map stood for nothing.
Traest pointed to the new map. “These are the routes that link these worlds together. It’s shifting because as planetary bodies orbit, the transit times between worlds alter. Routes develop breaks that have to be worked around in realspace; and these are just the routes that lead from star to star. If someone wanted to jump into deep space and jump back out, they could hit almost any world from any other world—it would just take a long time, which is militarily impractical. So, setting our military to be able to intercept Yuuzhan Vong forces and drive them back is impossible.”
Borsk frowned darkly. “Then you are suggesting there is nothing we can do to stop them?”
Wedge shook his head vehemently. “No, Chief Fey’lya, not at all. What we are doing is organizing system defenses on the worlds we think they will hit. Our goal is to slow their attacks long enough that we can bring overwhelming forces to bear to drive them back. We all know that forces bent on taking a planet are most vulnerable as they transit from space to surface. If we can hold them up and slow this transition, we have far longer to bring firepower to bear on them. That’s how we’ll stop them.”
“You’re baiting traps for them.”
“Setting traps, yes, but not baiting. We don’t know what they want so bait is not something we can offer.” Wedge sighed. “This brings us back to the earlier point about not knowing enough about them. I mean, we know they use slaves, we know they hate machines, we know their weapons are all organics, and we know they have a thing about pain; but the significance of any of this has not been assessed.”
“Easy, Wedge.” Leia patted his hand with hers. “I know your frustration. We can detail operations to go out and learn as much as we can. I’m sure Luke will lend us some Jedi for covert runs at worlds, just as they did on Belkadan and Bimmiel.”
“No, no Jedi.” Borsk Fey’lya shook his head. “I won’t have them involved in this.”
Leia looked at him. “What?”
Fey’lya’s face became an impassive mask. “Do not think I do not know the value of the Jedi, Leia. I do remember how your brother and you headed off the crisis that would have consumed Bothawui, but the people don’t respect them anymore. While my read of the reports about the battle for Dantooine tells me that were it not for the Jedi, the entire contingent of refugees would have been slain, that is not the only reading of the reports. Read most uncharitably, it indicates that the Jedi were powerless to prevent the slaughter of hundreds.
“Moreover, the Yuuzhan Vong have slain Jedi. The most powerful of the Jedi—your brother—was induced to leave Belkadan, abandoning an unknown number of slaves. According to one of the students rescued from Bimmiel, the Jedi there introduced genetically altered creatures that could forever disrupt the cycle of life on that world, sterilizing it. Add to that the rumors that Jedi Force skills are less than adequate against the Yuuzhan Vong, and you can see why there is no confidence in the Jedi. If we use them to spearhead operations, we will look foolish and confidence in us will waver. We will cause a panic.”
Pain arced temple to temple in Leia’s head. She’d heard the various reports coming from students and from Dantooine survivors and even the interviews with a few Jedi concerning their dealings with the Yuuzhan Vong. While she would have preferred a complete news blackout concerning things until they had a better understanding of what was going on, to keep the people ignorant presented a much more difficult problem. Since leaks could not be stopped, official denials of the leaks would erode confidence in the government and start a panic. But having an informed public meant they could express opinions on matters like the Jedi. Politicians like Fey’lya tried their best to work within the guidelines set by the will of the people.
She sat back down and cradled her head in her hands. “By refusing to use the Jedi, we’re cutting off a resource that is invaluable. The Jedi we have out there are folks who have traveled widely, have dealt with crises in discrete and flexibl
e ways. They are the perfect agents for missions to places like Garqi or Dubrillion. More importantly, I don’t think we can stop Luke from sending his Jedi out to help people. You do realize that.”
“Oh, I do, Leia, I certainly do.” Fey’lya’s lips peeled back in a feral grin. “My only concern is that we cannot be seen to sanction them. They will have to operate without our support.”
Wedge arched an eyebrow. “If we got a distress call from a Jedi behind Yuuzhan Vong lines, you’re telling me we can’t do anything?”
“Unless there was a vital strategic or operational goal involved, no, I don’t see how you could, General.”
Traest looked at Wedge. “I guess that means we’ll just have to set up our own operations and use our own personnel.”
“We have no choice.”
Leia closed her eyes for a moment, then sighed. “If we are unable to use the Jedi, then I suppose my mission to Bastion will be out, as well?”
Fey’lya’s smile broadened. “Oh, no, not at all. If you want to go and talk Pellaeon into using as much of his firepower and personnel as possible to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong, I would applaud it. I wish you all speed and good fortune on that mission, Leia, I really do.”
Leia glanced at Elegos, and they nodded to each other. In discussing her idea to ask the Imperial Remnant for help, the two of them had run through various scenarios, and no matter which one they reviewed, it always turned to a political advantage for Borsk Fey’lya. If Leia succeeded in getting the Remnant to come to the aid of the New Republic, she could easily be painted as a collaborator with a reactionary element, while Borsk could position himself as the heir to the traditions of the Rebellion. If the Remnant refused, they would be vilified, and Leia along with them, for having such poor judgment to try to deal with them. Everything else in between resulted in the same impression: she would be collaborating with an enemy.
“I am so glad you approve, Borsk. Senator A’Kla and I will be leaving in two days for Bastion.”
Ruin: Dark Tide II Page 3