Edge of Victory 2 Rebirth

by Greg Keyes

  "No. Really? I would never. . , have . . . guessed."

  He felt her fluttering toward unconsciousness again.

  "Mara?"

  "Still... here."

  Luke glanced at the sleeping form of Cilghal on a nearby cot. The

  healer worked night and day, using the Force to slow the progress of the

  disease. The results were hardly noticeable. Only Mara had ever been able to

  control it, but her terrific will was too focused now.

  "Mara," he said softly. "Mara, you have to let me in."

  "I can manage, Luke."

  "Mara, my love ... no games this time. You want to do this your way,

  and I respect that. Now you have to respect me. That's my child, too-and

  you, you're the best part of my world. Let me help."

  "Selfish," Mara said.

  "Yes, maybe," Luke admitted.

  "Meant me," Mara corrected. "Help our child."

  Luke reached into her, then, into the maelstrom. He felt how truly

  feeble her life was. Her pain racked his body; her dark fevers gnawed at the

  fringes of his brain. It was overwhelming, and the most profound sensation

  of hopelessness he had ever felt shuddered through him.

  No. I'm not here to take her pain. I'm here to add my strength. He knew

  it, but it felt beyond his control. There was too much, coming too fast. He

  pushed at it, forcing it away, trying to flow a river of vigor into her, but

  she wasn't there to receive it, to use it as only her body knew how. He was

  at the mercy of her disease as much as she was.

  He heard a noise and realized he had cried out.

  Calm. I am calm. I bring calm with me, and tranquility. I am

  tranquility.

  But the sickness laughed at him. Starbursts of images and sensation

  exploded everywhere. He saw Palpatine's leering face, saw his own, younger

  features through a veneer of hatred. He was a child on the street, cold and

  lonely.

  All negative feelings, all fears and hates and greeds. Only the worst

  of Mara was here, where the disease had its way.

  He fought the despair, but it pooled in his feet and slowly, slowly

  filled him up, sap climbing inside a tree.

  He knew in that moment he could never save her. Mara was lost to him,

  forever.

  THIRTY

  "Oh, Sithspawn," Corran swore.

  "The Givin are in league with the Yuuzhan Vong?" Ana-kin said

  doubtfully. "The Givin build ships. The Yuuzhan Vong hate technology."

  "Yeah, but their real estate isn't all that promising," Corran said.

  "Maybe they figure that if they cooperate, the Yuuzhan Vong won't bother 'em

  much."

  "I don't understand," Tahiri said.

  "Yag'Dhul has three moons," Corran explained. "The tidal forces are so

  strong that at times and places the atmosphere itself gets rolled back,

  exposing the surface to space. The Givin actually evolved to survive in

  vacuum for short periods of time. What would the Yuuzhan Vong want with a

  planet like that? The location, yes, because it's strategic for purposes of

  their conquest. But they probably wouldn't settle the planet."

  "I think they're waiting for a reply," Anakin noticed, gesturing at the

  tiny image of the Givin.

  "Tahiri, tell them in Yuuzhan Vong we're having some minor

  difficulties, and we'll be back in touch in a moment."

  "Sure." She said something into the comm unit. Then she looked back up.

  "They want to know why we aren't using the villip. They have theirs with

  them."

  "Brother. This gets worse and worse." Corran stared at the row of

  villips. One was pulsing slightly. Was that it?

  "Tell them it's none of their business," he said. "Make it sound like

  we're mad about something. No-wait. Tell them-tell them the sound of them

  speaking the Yuuzhan Vong language so poorly is insulting to us. Tell them

  we'll

  speak the infidel language, Basic, and that the commander is about to

  speak to them."

  Tahiri did so, after which Corran took up the comm unit. Keeping the

  visual off, he tried to remember the cadence of Shedao Shai's accented

  Basic, back when he had dueled with the man.

  Here goes nothing. He started to open his mouth, then quickly changed

  his mind. "Tahiri, Anakin-give me a name. A credible name."

  "Hul," Anakin said. "It's a warrior's name."

  Corran nodded, flicked the comm back on. "This is Commander Hul Lah,"

  he snarled. "Is everything prepared?"

  "All is in readiness, Commander," the Givin answered. "The defense grid

  will fail in 15.08357462 standard hours. You may bring your fleet from

  hyperspace then."

  Corran blinked. Something about that. . .

  "There is no suspicion, then?" he asked.

  "None. The Body Calculus is completely unaware of our vector with you.

  The failure of the defense grid and long-range communications will seem

  accidental. Only when you take possession of our system will the truth be

  known. We have hidden our factors carefully."

  "Commendable. We will verify this, of course, but you may rest assured

  that if you are telling the truth, the glorious Yuuzhan Vong will honor our

  agreement with you."

  "Thank you, Commander."

  "Hul Lah, out."

  Corran pursed his lips thoughtfully. ''Those guys aren't the

  government," he said. "Or at least, not all of it. It's just some faction."

  "Let's contact the real government, then," Anakin suggested. "Let 'em

  know what's going on before their defense grid fails."

  "That's a problem," Corran said. "We don't know anything about who we

  just dealt with. It might be the local chapter of the Peace Brigade, or it

  might be a faction in the Body Calculus. Either way, the odds of contacting

  the wrong people are way too high."

  "Maybe we should just get out of here and alert the New Republic

  military, then," Anakin suggested.

  "It's an idea, but it will lose us Yag'Dhul. There's no way to get a

  fleet here in fifteen hours. If the Givin had their own fleet scrambled,

  there might be a chance of holding the Yuu-zhan Vong off long enough for a

  New Republic force to arrive, assuming the Senatorial Oversight Committee

  releases them to do so. No, we've got to get the attention of the right

  people, before the defense grid goes down."

  "Umm," Anakin mused.

  "What? Out with it."

  "Well, I have an idea, but you aren't going to like it."

  "I'll take anything I can get right now. Talk."

  "We attack Yag'Dhul before the grid goes down. Whoever comes out to

  stop us, that's who we want to talk to."

  "I don't like it," Corran said.

  "I didn't think you would."

  "I don't like it, but it will work. Anakin, calculate a jump that will

  put us as close as safely possible to Yag'Dhul-or better, the space station.

  Tahiri, can you figure out how to lay it in?"

  "Sure. All I have to do is see it in my mind."

  "Let's get cracking, then. I want to do this before common sense sets

  in."

  They reverted two hundred kilometers from the orbit of Yag'Dhul's

  farthest moon, a short distance from the military station that Booster

  Terrik had once commanded. Corran had fond memories of the place, because i
t

  reminded him of his early days with Mirax. It felt strange to be attacking

  it.

  The station, which had been Rogue Squadron's base during the Bacta War,

  was now part of an expanding Givin military-industrial complex. Unhappy with

  having their system being used as a battleground by foreign forces, they had

  demanded and been ceded the station a few years after the truce with the

  Imperial Remnant. It now protected their shipyard.

  "I'll bet they'll notice us," Anakin remarked, watching

  through a transparency that Tahiri had opened up to give them a view of

  surrounding space. "Hyperwave dampeners or not, rocks this size don't just

  appear out of nowhere."

  "Unless the grid is already down," Corran replied.

  "Oh, I don't think it is," Tahiri said. "Or at least, that would be a

  big coincidence. Twenty somethings are on their way."

  "Twenty what?" Corran asked. "Starfighters, corvettes, capital ships?"

  "I don't know," Tahiri replied. "I don't know a lot about ships."

  "Well, how big are they?"

  Tahiri didn't answer for a few moments. "I'm not sure how to read

  that," she said. "They're sort of clusters of spindly rods. Three engines

  each. Real fast."

  "Starfighters? How far away?"

  "Fifteen phons and closing."

  "What's a phon?" Anakin asked.

  "I don't have any idea," Tahiri replied. "They just implanted the

  language, not conversion charts."

  "Bring her around, thirty degrees starboard," Corran said.

  "Starboard?"

  "To your right! Your right hand!"

  "Don't get touchy, Captain Horn," Tahiri said. "I'm doing my best, but

  I'm not a pilot! And I can't tell if I've turned fifteen degrees or not."

  A dull thud echoed through the ship. Tahiri gasped.

  "What was that?"

  "That hurt!" Tahiri said. "Something just blew up part of us."

  "Are they hailing?"

  "I-" She broke off again as several more impacts rocked the ship. The

  last one was very loud.

  "That broke the skin," Tahiri said. "We're losing air. I'm going to

  shoot back."

  "Don't shoot back," Corran said. "Do you hear me, Tahiri? Do not shoot

  back."

  "The ship wants to," she wailed. "It's hurt."

  "Don't let it."

  "They're hailing," Anakin said. "Standard frequency."

  "Answer, then, fast. Tahiri-turn away from those ships and run as fast

  as you can."

  "They're a lot faster."

  "Well, use the dovin basal to absorb their shots, if you can figure out

  how to do that."

  "The ship is doing it already," she replied. "It's just not very good

  at it."

  "Not a warship," Corran muttered. "Anakin?"

  "Something's wrong with the transponder," Anakin said.

  "Well, fix it!"

  "I'm trying."

  "Tahiri, can you take evasive action?"

  "I'm evading as much as I can. But this is a really big ship, and

  they're really fast."

  Another staggered series of blasts ripped along the side of the

  Stalking Moon, and now Corran could see their antagonists, flitting about in

  admirably swift craft. He didn't recognize the design, but the Givin were

  known for quality if not quantity in shipbuilding. A good quarter of the

  racing yachts in the galaxy were built in the Yag'Dhul system.

  Corran glanced at Anakin. The boy-no, the young man-was working calmly

  at the cobbled-together communications device, one lock of hair falling in

  his face. He didn't look like someone who feared death in the slightest.

  Probably he didn't. Taan, the Shamed One, was as impassive and quiet as she

  had been since her conversation with the distant Yuuzhan Vong commander.

  The ship jerked and shuddered, and somewhere near, Corran heard the

  sound of air screaming out into vacuum. A smell like vaporized rancor

  swirled into the chamber.

  "We're dying," Tahiri said dully. "Let me shoot back. Please."

  "No."

  "Got it!" Anakin said.

  "Give me that!" Corran grunted. "Make sure the visual is on, this

  time."

  The Givin who appeared on the tiny screen didn't waste

  any time with polite mathematical greetings. "Yuuzhan Vong ship, this

  is Dodecian Illiet. You will stand down and surrender or be destroyed."

  "Dodecian Illiet," Corran replied, "this is the captain of the Yuuzhan

  Vong vessel Stalking Moon. We surrender."

  The Givin didn't blink-he couldn't-nor could his exo-skeletal face

  register any other emotion Corran recognized. But he still gave the

  impression of vast surprise.

  "You are not Yuuzhan Vong," the Givin said.

  "It's a long story," Corran replied. "We did not intend to attack you,

  only to get your attention."

  The Givin paused, listening to someone off-screen, then turned his

  empty eyes back to Corran.

  "Our attention you have, Corran Horn. Prepare to be boarded."

  THIRTY-ONE

  "Shalo was smarter than I thought," Han snarled as he drew his blaster.

  "He had backup for his backup."

  Jacen tried to pick apart the action. Karrde had placed people

  strategically within the cantina-both in the balcony and on the floor-to

  disarm Shalo's men, and then set up a cordon outside. That outer ring of

  protection was now under attack by a third group. A very numerous third

  group. Karrde's people outside were already down or had retreated within the

  building.

  "Help me with this table," Han said.

  Jacen grabbed one edge and helped his father drag it to one of the

  windows. Several bolts seared by their heads as they barricaded the opening,

  bringing with them plumes of ubiquitous Tatooine dust.

  "This planet always was bad luck," the elder Solo grumbled. He lifted

  his blaster and fired a couple of shots over the edge of the table without

  looking.

  "Good thing you have the situation completely in control," Jacen

  remarked.

  "Hey, no plan is perfect. Did you get a look at who they were?"

  "Peace Brigade, I'm pretty sure."

  "I'm getting tired of those guys. Shalo set us up."

  "Imagine that, one of your old buddies setting you up."

  "Well, there's been worse," Han said. "You ready?"

  "Ready for what?"

  "I give it about six seconds before they start lobbing grenades in

  here. We do not want to stay here. On three?"

  "Three it is."

  "Karrde?" Han sang out.

  "Busy," Karrde replied, firing through the doorway.

  "Give us some cover."

  "You got it."

  "One, two-hey!"

  On two Jacen ignited his lightsaber and bounded to his feet. He was

  immediately forced to deflect three blaster bolts in quick succession. His

  father popped up behind him, nailing one of his assailants with the first

  shot.

  "That building across the street," Han said. "Go!"

  Fire rained down from the rooftops as they raced across the sunburned

  ground. Jacen deflected the more accurate shots while his father blazed

  away. Jacen slashed open the closed door of the trinket shop directly across

  the street, and the two men ducked in. A veritable barrage shredded the door


  frame behind them.

  "They can throw grenades in here, too, you know," Jacen remarked.

  "Sure, but now we have 'em in a crossfire."

  "My door!" shrieked the Toydarian merchant behind them.

  "Sorry about that," Jacen told the merchant.

  "Sorry? Sorry won't-eep!"

  A concussion grenade bounced through the door, and the Toydarian

  flitted for cover.

  "See?" Jacen said. He gave the bomb a telekinetic swat that sent it

  back out the door.

  His father seemed to have predicted the trend. What was left of one of

  the cantina windows blew out with a billow of flame.

  "Karrde!" Han shouted, firing wildly at anything moving on the street.

  Han was interrupted by the Gamorrean who came blazing around the edge

  of the door. The being's close-range fire missed, but the butt of his weapon

  didn't when he dealt the Corellian an uppercut that lifted him off his feet.

  His father's body knocked Jacen off-balance, and before he could recover,

  the Gamorrean, squealing and snorking, wrapped

  his thick limbs around Jacen's body and slammed him into the nearest

  wall. The Jedi's lightsaber went flying.

  Stunned, Jacen boxed his attacker's ears, but if there was any effect,

  he didn't notice it. He tried to focus on retrieving his lightsaber, but in

  all of the confusion he couldn't be sure where it was.

  He felt the Gamorrean, though, felt his heart hammering in his chest.

  He could easily reach out in the Force and . .. No. He would die first.

  And that was coming up fast, because he couldn't breathe. He beat

  feebly at his attacker's head as outside the twin suns seemed to be going

  out.

  Then he was falling, slumping against the wall and covered with ceramic

  statuettes of Sand People and Jawas falling from the shelves above. The

  Gamorrean had turned back to Han, who had just clobbered it over the head

  with some sort of larger stone statue. His father's eyes were widening in

  surprise at the fact that the Gamorrean hadn't collapsed, but only gotten

  madder.

  "You're a thickheaded son-of-" he began, but then had to duck a

  powerful right.

  "Look," Han said, dancing back from the Gamorrean, "you don't know who

  you're dealing with. If you just go ahead and surrender, I'll go easy on

  you." He looked suddenly past his enraged opponent to Jacen. "That's right,

  Jacen. Use your lightsaber!" Jacen was still trying to find his feet, much