by Greg Keyes
“What if he doesn’t have enough strength to get the suit on?” Tahiri said. “What if it’s leaky?”
“Don’t think about it,” Anakin said. “We can only wait now.”
“The walls are getting cold,” she said.
They’ll get a lot colder before it’s over, Anakin thought. Unless the Yuuzhan Vong light the station up and blow it to atoms. Either way it won’t be long before we don’t care anymore. Maybe Corran was right. Maybe his luck had finally run out.
“Don’t worry, Tahiri,” Anakin said, contrary to what he was thinking. “Corran’s been out of more scrapes than the two of us put together. He’ll be back.”
FORTY-ONE
The space around the Sunulok birthed stars. That’s what it looked like, anyway, and in astrophysical fact that was more or less what was happening.
The cloud of boiling liquid hydrogen had enveloped most of the Interdictor, and wherever a laser beam or concussion missile pierced that gauzy haze an unbearably bright pinprick of light erupted, then quickly blossomed larger before suddenly going out.
“Keep firing, you two,” Han told his wife and son, adding the forward guns to the mix.
“I see it, but I don’t believe it,” Jacen said. A constellation of the expanding and deflating suns burned around the Sunulok, now, so brightly they almost couldn’t see it, and Han laughed aloud, though the coralskippers were still pounding the Falcon. The dovin basals’ grip on the Falcon suddenly relaxed, and the laser beams were lancing through the hydrogen cloud to burn clots off the Yuuzhan Vong ship itself. Targeting the cluster of dovin basals, Han launched his last spread of concussion missiles and then threw the Falcon back into drive.
He punched up Karrde’s comm channel. “Hey,” he said, “the interdictor is out of commission, but I can’t say for how long. If I were you I’d go to lightspeed.”
“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in a long time,” Karrde replied. “I’m gone.”
“Keep those skips back until we hit hyperspace,” Han told Leia and Jacen.
“Can do,” Jacen called back up.
Behind them, Han was gratified to see plasma boiling from the Sunulok. A few minutes later, they’d left the Interdictor—and the rest of their enemies—light-years behind.
Jaina saw Ten shredded against an asteroid, and pressed her lips tight in anger. She hadn’t known the Twi’lek in the pilot’s seat, but he’d been part of her flight, and he’d saved her life at least twice in this fight.
What’s worse, Alinn Varth, Three-flight leader, had been dropping in to take out the coralskipper on Ten’s tail, and ended up flying straight through the burning debris as it skipped off the intervening rock. Jaina watched in horror as her leader’s X-wing vanished, haloed in inferno.
But Varth came out the other side, banking, three skips on her tail. Jaina dropped down like a bird of prey, spraying the lead skip, then launching one of her remaining three proton torps. The resulting explosion cracked two of the fighters and sent the third spinning aimlessly.
“Thanks, Twelve,” Varth gasped.
“You okay, Nine?”
“Negative. I’ve lost guns and short-range sensors.”
Gavin heard. “Fall back, Nine.”
“Colonel—”
“Fall back. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” Varth said. “As ordered, sir.”
“It’s just us,” Lensi said, for once not sounding brash.
“It’ll be just me, if you don’t watch it,” Jaina replied. “You’ve got two coming down.”
“Got ’em. Thanks, Sticks.”
The weapon was huge now that they were closing on it. Maybe it’s not fully alive yet, she hoped.
Kre’fey had been as good as his word; the Ralroost and her companions had cut through the defense perimeter around the weapon that had so successfully kept Kyp’s squadron at bay, leaving the faintly glowing hulks of two Yuuzhan Vong capital ship analogs to mark the way in. Now they were setting up for the run on the gravitic weapon, and roles had reversed. This wasn’t the fabled Death Star; if the Yuuzhan Vong ship had a weak point, it was unknown to the motley forces attacking it. In Kyp’s holo, the huge iris in the center of the thing had seemed to project the gravity field, so that was number one priority, and when taking out something you didn’t understand, honking gobs of firepower was always the safest bet. The Ralroost had the guns—it was up to the starfighters to see she had a chance to use them.
There were two more large ships in the system; One had moved between Kre’fey’s flotilla and the weapon; the other was hanging back, presumably to control the ample swarms of coralskippers that were still massing against them.
“Seven,” she heard Gavin say, “break off and take lead with Eleven and Twelve.”
“Mind if I cut in?” a new voice asked.
“Wedge?” Gavin said. “You’re sure you want to do this, what with your arthritis and all? How’d you slip your nurse?”
“Told her I was going to take a steam bath,” the aging general quipped. “What’ve you got for me?”
“Good to have you, General. Gives us two full flights. Take Seven, Eleven, and Twelve. Guys, you are now designated Two-flight.”
“I copy, One Leader,” Jaina said. She could hardly believe it. She was flying with Wedge Antilles!
“Good enough,” Wedge said. “Tighten up, Two-flight. Looks like we have some business up ahead.”
The next wave of skips hit them and hit them hard, fighting with a sort of desperation that Jaina hadn’t yet seen in the Yuuzhan Vong. They came in clusters, three flying as shields for a fourth. Jaina needled them at long range with her lasers, determined not to waste another proton torpedo if she didn’t have to.
“I don’t like this,” Wedge said. “They aren’t maneuvering. They’re just coming head-on.”
“Makes them easy pickings,” Lensi said. From the corner of her eye, Jaina saw one of his targets flare out.
“Too easy, Twelve,” Wedge said.
One of Jaina’s targets tumbled out of formation, its cockpit a fused mass of coral.
“Two-flight, break!” Wedge suddenly shouted. Even as he did so, the cover skips broke, and their undamaged charges accelerated through the gap. They weren’t firing weapons, and they weren’t throwing out voids.
Jaina jerked her stick up, and the skip rose to meet her.
“I’m going to hit!” Seven screamed, before his channel went dead.
The voids slowed the skips down. When they weren’t using them, they were incredibly maneuverable. Jaina’s climb was as tight as she could get it, but the skip was matching her, still coming on, still at the bottom of her field of vision, clearly determined to ram her. Meanwhile, the remaining two skips that had flown shield for it were trying to pick up her tail. She had nowhere to go, and if she brought her weapons in line to fire, she’d meet her enemy head-on, as Seven had just presumably done.
Suddenly a quad burst of lasers from above her imaginary horizon cut the skip in half. Jaina didn’t have time to see who her rescuer was. She jammed the stick down and starboard, skimming by the wreckage of the coralskipper and shaking the two behind her.
Except the two behind her were already gone.
“You’re clean, Jaina,” Kyp’s voice informed her. “General Antilles, permission to fly what’s left of my Dozen with you.”
“Granted, Durron. I’ll take what I can get, now.”
The Ralroost and its escorts had taken a lot of hits in the first wave of suicides, but once the tactic was understood, the remaining starfighters fanned out and picked off the determined skips far in advance. The Yuuzhan Vong that made it through their runs intact ended up behind them, where collision was much less effective. They still had their weapons, of course, and it made Jaina more than a little nervous to have so many live enemies at her back, but target prime was just ahead, and she had a job to do.
The Ralroost opened up on the galaxy-shaped ship. Red streamers of plasma lan
ced out from the curved tips of the Yuuzhan Vong weapon, but the destroyer’s shields handled the fire easily.
“I don’t get it,” Jaina said. “Why use conventional weapons? Why aren’t they using the gravity weapon?”
“It’s our lucky day,” Kyp said. “It must be off-line.”
Multiple proton concussions blossomed at the axis of the Yuuzhan Vong weapon, rendering it a dull-red glowing mass.
“Jaina, behind you!”
Kyp’s warning came too late. Twin bursts of plasma sheared through her shields and into her ion engines. A quick babble from her astromech told her that if she didn’t shut down in fifteen seconds, the whole mess was going supercritical. She’d lost a stabilizer, too, and the ship was spinning crazily.
And she still had a tail. Kyp got one of them, but the other just kept coming.
This is it.
The Yuuzhan Vong superweapon filled most of her gyrating vision, now. Grimly, she did her best to aim for it, then shut down. Maybe she could skip off it with repulsors. If not, at least she would put another ding in the thing.
But then something in the huge craft made a very big bang, and all she saw was inferno.
“Corran’s been gone a long time,” Tahiri whispered.
“Not so long,” Anakin replied. “Only about five minutes.”
“Seems longer.” He felt her shiver, probably from the biting cold. In fact, the only part of Anakin that wasn’t freezing was the strip along his side where he was pressed against the younger Jedi.
“There has to be something we can do,” she said. “If we can yank Massassi trees out of the ground with the Force, surely we can—”
“What? Pull a bunch of oxygen molecules up here from Yag’Dhul, seal up the station, and repressurize it?”
“Hey, at least I’m trying to think of something.”
“So am I,” Anakin said, his voice rising a little. “If you have an idea, let’s hear it.”
“You know very well I don’t have an idea,” Tahiri snapped back. “You’d feel it if I did.”
“Tahiri—”
“Oh, just shut up.”
Anakin suddenly understood. Tahiri was frightened, as frightened as he had ever known her to be.
“I’m scared, too, Tahiri.”
“No, you’re not. You’re never scared. Even when you are, you aren’t by normal standards.”
“I was scared when I thought I’d lost you on Yavin Four.”
She was silent, and Anakin lost his read on her, but he suddenly felt her shoulders quivering and knew she was crying.
Reluctantly, he reached his arm around her.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I got you into this. Corran’s right—I keep thinking I can be like you, and I’m not. You always win, and I always screw up. If it weren’t for me, you’d be back on the Errant Venture right now.”
“But I’d rather be here with you,” he said.
He couldn’t see her face turn toward him or see the widening emeralds of her eyes, but he knew they were there.
“Don’t say things like that,” she murmured. “I know you think I’m still a little kid. I—”
She stopped, very suddenly, when he found her face with his fingers. Her cheek was smooth and cold. He found a stray lock of hair across her eyebrow and traced lightly over the raised scars on her forehead.
Anakin rarely did things he didn’t know he was going to do. But it had never occurred to him that he was going to kiss Tahiri until his lips were already touching hers. They were cold, and she pulled back.
“Oh,” she said.
“Oh?”
“That was a surprise.”
“Sorry.”
“No—c’mere.” She took his face in both hands and pressed her lips against his. It wasn’t a big kiss, but it was sweet and warm, and it jolted through him like ten g forces.
“Your timing is perfect,” she breathed. “Wait until we’re doomed to give me my first kiss.”
“Mine, too,” he said, his face warming despite the cold. “Umm …”
“How was it?” Tahiri said, answering his unverbalized question. “Kind of weird.” She kissed him again. “Nice.”
She took his hand and put her cheek against his. “If we survive, we’ll have to figure this out, you know,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“I mean, I’m not the kind of girl who’ll kiss just anyone on a first-time-to-be-stuck-in-a-locker-on-an-airless-space-station.”
“Might be simpler if we don’t make it,” Anakin remarked.
“Yeah. Are you sorry?”
“No. No, not even a little.”
“Good.”
“So let’s survive,” Anakin said, “so we get a chance to figure this out, okay? Do you think you can manage a hibernation trance? Our air will last a lot longer that way.”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never done it.”
“I’ll help. Just clear your mind—”
“Maybe you don’t know very much about girls. You just kissed me, and now you want me to clear my mind? It’s like there’s a tribe of Ewoks dancing in there.”
He squeezed her hand. “C’mon. Try.”
Something clanked outside.
“Did you hear that?” Tahiri whispered.
“Yeah. But how? There shouldn’t be any air to carry the sound.” He reached for his lightsaber.
Something started working at the locker door. It swung open, and Corran was crouched there, an expression of extreme concern on his face. He still had a vac suit on, but without the helmet.
“You’re okay,” he breathed.
“We’re okay,” Anakin acknowledged. “Where did the air come from?” He started crawling out of the cramped space.
“I remembered there was a modular backup system. I was afraid the Givin had taken it out, but they haven’t. I sealed up the room and pumped air in. It probably won’t last long, so get into those, quick.” He gestured toward a pair of smaller vac suits.
As they were scrambling into them, Corran shot Anakin a peculiar look.
“What?” Anakin said.
“Should I have left you two unchaperoned?”
Vaping Moffs! Does it show? Anakin wondered.
Just once, he wished most of the people he knew weren’t Jedi.
“You fools,” Nom Anor hissed at the three warriors. “First you let them slip from your claws, now you cannot find them again? You are a disgrace to the Yuuzhan Vong.”
He stood next to where the ship the warriors had come on was connected to the infidel space station by an oqa membrane, speaking through the gnullith-villip hybrid in his throat. He disliked having to command through the thing, for it distorted his voice somewhat, lessening its effectiveness.
The new leader of the warriors, Qau Lah, threw a withering glare his way. “The infidels opened their station to space. We were forced to obtain ooglith cloakers, as you know, since you wear one yourself. We will find them.” He lifted his chin and bared his teeth. “Besides, it is the Yuuzhan Vong who does not accept challenge from a worthy opponent who disgraces his people.”
Nom Anor narrowed his eyes, then chopped his hand in a gesture of command. “Go. Find them.”
As they turned, he lifted the infidel blaster he had secreted in his sash. It made him feel vaguely sick to handle it, but he had learned to do all sorts of distasteful things lately.
He shot Qau Lah in the back of the head from a meter away, then the warrior next to him. The third managed to raise his amphistaff before the blaster burned a hole through his face.
That was three. Cursing to himself, Nom Anor started off to find the rest of the warriors who had seen him with the Jedi, to make certain none of them would carry report of what they had seen back to Qurang Lah.
FORTY-TWO
“What happened back there, exactly?” Leia asked.
“Hand me that,” Han said, gesturing toward his tools.
The Falcon had made five quick jumps with no sign of pursuit. Now they were
headed for the Maw, but Han wasn’t waiting for the facilities there to begin his repairs. The second he thought they were safe, he’d begun tending to his baby.
Leia handed him the demagnetizer.
“Not that,” Han said. “That.” He pointed just as vaguely. “The thingie.”
“Which thingie?”
“The hydrospanner.”
She handed it to him, rolling her eyes. “I’m not gonna sprout fur, you know,” she said. “I’m not going that far.”
“I don’t know,” Han replied dubiously. “I knew this woman once, real pretty. Hit fifty and grew a mustache.”
“Han. The Sunulok?”
“Ask your son. He’s the one with the education.”
Jacen turned from his own work on the power core. “I’m pretty sure I get it,” he said.
His mother looked up at him. “Do tell.”
“The cargo tanker was full of liquid hydrogen, right?”
“That far I got.”
“Dad dumped it all over the Sunulok, and we fired into it. That didn’t do anything, except the Sunulok produced voids to swallow our shots. They started swallowing hydrogen as well.”
“And choked on it? What?”
“The voids are like quantum black holes. You reach the event horizon—which in this case is more or less microscopic—and gravity becomes nearly infinite. Which means acceleration does, too. When a concussion missile hits one, for instance, the matter in it is instantly compressed into neutrons and then, blip, singularity. Just like a black hole. And like black holes, if you dump in too much matter at once, it has to queue up to get in. It starts compressing outside the event horizon, so on the way in it undergoes fusion.”
“And the black holes swallow most of the energy,” Leia said.
“Exactly. The light we saw was only a fraction of the energy being produced, the part that escaped. Most of it went into the singularity. We know from experience that disappearing energy taxes the dovin basals, right? In a few seconds the Sunulok’s voids swallowed dozens of hydrogen fusion explosions. It shut them down.”
“Looks like all of your education wasn’t a waste,” Han remarked.