“Some of our biogeneticists may have found the genes that keep the Yuuzhan Vong isolated from the Force,” he said.
He could sense Vergere’s hyperalertness through the Force. “Tell me,” she said.
Jacen told the little avian about the Yuuzhan Vongs’ genetics, which had proven to be largely compatible with the human, the exception being a unique strand that seemed common to all Vongformed life.
“I suppose that could be responsible for the Yuuzhan Vong not being discernible in the Force,” Jacen said, but he fell silent when he became aware that Vergere had ceased to pay attention. Her crest had fluffed forward, as had her antennae, and she radiated intense concentration. When she finally spoke, it was as if she was speaking to herself.
“It is as I feared,” she said. Urgency rang in Vergere’s voice. “Who else knows this? Who?”
“It’s been kept very secret,” Jacen said. “You and I and Danni know. And the scientists themselves, but they’ve been placed in seclusion.”
“Who has them?”
Jacen nodded his head toward Dif Scaur. “New Republic Intelligence,” he said.
Vergere looked at Scaur’s cadaverous figure. Jacen could feel the intensity of Vergere’s gaze through the Force, and was glad she wasn’t turning this scrutiny on him. Vergere’s crest swept back, and she gave a little, ominous hiss.
“I can imagine what happens next,” she judged. “And there is another evil.”
“What?” Jacen was bewildered. “What evil?”
Vergere swung back to him. “You cannot guess, young Jedi?” she asked. She gave a dry little laugh. “Despite all your adventures, I fear that you possess insufficient experience of depravity.”
TWENTY-TWO
Jaina came out of her roll right onto the tail of an enemy TIE fighter. She launched a missile by pure reflex, and the fighter blossomed into a brief, scarlet flower. In another two seconds she’d vaped the first TIE’s wingmate, and the rest of her squadron accounted for three more.
Through the Force she could sense enemy pilots engaged with Kyp’s Dozen and completely unaware of her existence.
“Starboard sixty degrees, Twin Squadron,” she said. “Three, two, mark.”
Her three four-fighter flights rolled over and through one another in a perfect crossover turn. “Accelerating now,” Jaina warned, and pushed the throttles forward. She had already marked out a target, and she pushed her mind into the Force-meld to tell Kyp she was coming.
Kyp sent a series of thoughts and impressions that translated to something like, You’re welcome to a piece of this sorry bunch if you want one. The Force-meld was powerful here, with so many Jedi present: it was almost like being a party to a large, private conversation. Though Kyp’s squadron was tangled up with superior numbers, he didn’t seem terribly threatened.
It was strange to feel the enemy in the Force again. The Yuuzhan Vong were defending their convoys and rear areas in part with mercenary and Peace Brigade forces. These enemy pilots defending Duro were still present in the Force, and often Jaina knew what the enemy pilots were going to do before they knew themselves.
Jaina hadn’t felt the enemy in the Force since the fleet had raided Ylesia, a few weeks before. The Peace Brigade headquarters had also been defended by natives of the galaxy, which made them easy to fight, but the raid had gone wrong for other reasons. Bad intelligence, inadequate operational plan, bad luck.
This raid was going to go right, if Jaina had anything to do with it.
Jaina’s targets were Howlrunners, which partly explained Kyp’s lack of urgency. Jaina told each of her pilots to pick a target, slam it, then rendezvous on the other side of the furball in order to regroup for another slash.
Her attack left a Howlrunner trailing flame and the panic of its pilot a distant shriek in the Force. Her other pilots succeeded in damaging or destroying their targets, and as Jaina told her fighters to regroup, she heard Kyp’s laconic voice in the Force suggesting that she go find someone else to shoot at.
At that instant Jacen’s presence blossomed in the Force, and somehow Jaina knew exactly where he wanted her to go, and that he wanted her to use her shadow bombs.
“On my way,” Jaina said.
Jacen was on the bridge of Admiral Kre’fey’s flagship, the Bothan Assault Cruiser Ralroost. His vacation on Mon Calamari had lasted three weeks—after that, Luke had told him he had the choice of working with the Great River or of joining Jaina and the fleet at Kashyyyk.
Perhaps Luke had been a little surprised by Jacen’s choice.
He left his life on Mon Calamari with small regret. He had enjoyed his brief respite from the war, enjoyed the company of his parents, of Luke and Mara and Danni Quee, but he as well as Luke knew that it was time to move on.
Once he’d joined Kre’fey, Jacen’s experience with the Jedi meld on Myrkr had helped him rise above the weeks of training that he’d missed. And in time it had become obvious that his talents were less tactical than spatial and holistic. Through the Force, and through the combined minds and perceptions of the Jedi, he seemed to gain a sense of the entire battlefield. He could sense where to move tactical elements and when to press an attack and when to hold back or withdraw. With the other Jedi as his eyes and ears, he felt the necessity of moving a squadron here, of pulling back the main body there, of maintaining a hovering threat elsewhere. He couldn’t have said why he knew this, he only knew that he knew.
If he narrowed his focus to the individuals who made up the meld, he could sense their distinct personalities: Corran Horn with his stubborn resolve; Kyp Durron flying with controlled fury; Jaina with her machinelike tactics, brain abuzz with calculation.
Everything was calculation with Jaina these days. She had fashioned herself into a weapon—the Sword of the Jedi—and there was room for nothing else. If he tried to talk to her about anything but her job, anything but the daily necessities of fighting and survival, she simply would not respond. It was as if much of her personality had simply ceased to exist.
It was painful to watch. Jacen might have been hurt by Jaina’s attitude if he weren’t so concerned over the damage that she must be doing to her own spirit.
Now. He almost heard the Force speaking in his ear, and he ordered Saba Sebatyne and the Wild Knights into a slashing run on an enemy cruiser.
Two months of constant raids and skirmishing had demonstrated that Jacen’s chief value wasn’t in the cockpit of a starfighter, but on the bridge of a flagship, where he could help direct an entire armada. Kre’fey had happily taken him aboard the Ralroost.
And now, as turbolasers flared and missiles erupted against shields, he sensed a place for Jaina and her squadron.
And then, in the whirling movement of the squadrons that blazed in the night, Jacen sensed something else hovering in the darkness, weapons ready.
“Scimitar Squadron,” he said in response to this sudden knowledge. “Please stand by.”
“Twin Squadron,” Jaina said, “turn toward Duro on my mark. Three, two, mark.”
Twin Suns Squadron performed another perfect crossover turn, placing the disk of Duro directly ahead. It was the first time Jaina had seen the planet since its loss to the enemy. She had been in a field hospital here after being wounded—she’d been blind, dependent on others, embroiled in conspiracy, and with a major Vong offensive in the offing. Her memories of the planet weren’t happy ones.
But Duro was now a different world. She remembered Duro as a gray-brown waste of desert and slag, but the disk was green now, bright with vegetation. The Yuuzhan Vong had converted the poisoned planet to their own purposes, but in so doing so had taken a near-dead world and made it thrive.
As Jaina neared Duro, she could see the fires of deadly energies flashing across the green disk of the planet. Three Yuuzhan Vong cruisers were fighting to hold Kre’fey’s main body from a cluster of huge transport craft, and though outnumbered two to one the enemy cruisers were fighting hard. Their starfighter pilots weren’t Peace B
rigade draftees in motley craft, either, but first-rank Yuuzhan Vong warriors in coralskippers. That was obvious enough from the way they fought, using a high degree of tactical intelligence even though their yammosk had been jammed.
As Jaina watched, one of the enemy cruisers broke apart in flame and ruin, and she sensed the satisfaction of Saba Sebatyne with the part her Wild Knights had played in the attack. Go for the next cruiser, Jacen sent, and Jaina pulsed a silent acknowledgment.
“First flight goes in now,” she said. “Second flight follows. Third flight watches our tails until we’re clear, and then you can make your run.”
Lowbacca and Tesar acknowledged.
“Dropping shadow bombs now,” Jaina said. The missiles, packed with explosives instead of propellent, dropped from her X-wing’s racks. With the Force Jaina shoved them on ahead, braking her own X-wing slightly so as to increase their separation. She set them on a trajectory for the aftmost enemy cruiser, then concentrated on leading her flight’s run with standard missiles and laserfire, bringing them to the target at a slightly different angle so as to fool the enemy dovin basals, which might snatch her concussion missiles without noticing the less visible shadow bombs as they approached.
Space lit up ahead, a brilliant display of turbolaser fire, plasma cannon projectiles, magma missiles, concussion missiles, and burning craft. This was the most dangerous part of her approach, Jaina knew, flying in between the big capital ships pounding each other at point-blank range. She could be flamed by her own side without their even noticing her presence.
Yet she knew, somehow, that she was in no real danger. More tangible than the missile and turbolaser fire she could sense the Force, and this time the Force wouldn’t let her fail.
Her laserfire raked the enemy hull. Dovin basals sucked down her concussion missiles and one of the shadow bombs, but she saw a geyser of brilliant fire as the two other shadow bombs struck the enemy, and she pulled up and away as more bombs dropped into the inferno.
Lowbacca’s second flight, six seconds behind, scored another series of hits. Though the cruiser wasn’t destroyed, it was no longer able to defend itself effectively, and the New Republic cruisers began to strike home with one attack after another. The Yuuzhan Vong ship was doomed.
“First flight! Second flight! Skips on your tail!” Tesar’s voice called, not through the Force, but over Jaina’s headphones.
“Scissors, Lowie!” Jaina called. “I’ll break right!” One flight would go right, the other left, and then they would interweave to shoot the enemy off each other’s tails.
“Negative, Twin One!” another stern voice called. It was a voice that Jaina had learned to trust.
Behind her burning coralskippers lit the night. “Thank you, Colonel Harona,” she called as Scimitar Squadron flashed past her cockpit, their colossal ion engines speeding them past.
“Don’t thank me,” Harona said. “Jacen told us you might need help about now.”
Sometimes, Jaina thought, her brother was positively eerie.
The second enemy cruiser was a burning wreck, unable to fire and unable to defend itself, leaving only one functional enemy cruiser against six of Kre’fey’s. Three concentrated on the lone enemy while the others and most of the smaller ships dived after the transports. About a third of the transports tried to land on Duro, but were blown out of the atmosphere before they could put down. The rest scattered and were picked off one by one by the New Republic forces.
After the transports and the single cruiser were destroyed, Kre’fey’s cruisers settled into low orbit over Duro and pounded anything on the ground that looked like a warrior damutek, warehouse, command center, factory, or spaceport.
Jaina didn’t know if she liked the idea of bombardment from orbit, and she could sense Jacen’s stern disapproval through the Force. Though she could understand the advantage of hitting an enemy from a position of safety, a bombardment was contrary to her Jedi instincts and training, which focused on actions that were more precise and far less random.
Despite the Jedi’s attitude, bombardment of the enemy was part of Admiral Kre’fey’s standard orders. Kre’fey’s Question Number One, How can I hurt the Vong today?, was best answered by blowing up things.
“Remember,” Kre’fey had said, “they destroyed entire worlds by seeding alien life-forms from orbit. Just think what they did to Ithor. What we’re doing is merciful by comparison.”
True, Jaina supposed. As far as it went.
“Regroup, Twin Squadron,” she called. “Prepare for recall.”
Her fighters slotted neatly into their assigned formations. Through the Force she could feel their pride, their sense of accomplishment. Her relentless insistence on drills and practice sessions had paid off. In the nearly three months since her visit to Mon Calamari, months filled with raids and skirmishes and alarms, she hadn’t lost a single pilot. Three X-wings had been destroyed or so badly damaged they were scrapped, but the pilots had always ejected before their craft were wrecked and were recovered afterward.
Her six rookies were now proud veterans, all with kills to their credit. A few weeks ago Jaina had astonished her Neimoidian wingmate, Vale, by sitting with her at the breakfast table and engaging in a conversation that had nothing to do with tactics or with Vale’s deficiencies as a pilot.
Vale and the other rookies had proved themselves. They were worth knowing.
But though Jaina was friendlier than she’d been, she was careful to avoid actual friendship. Her determination hadn’t lessened over the months. She knew that the raids on Yuuzhan Vong territory had been carefully planned to take advantage of temporary enemy weaknesses. The attacks had been made only against outnumbered or ambushed forces, and were aborted if the enemy proved stronger than anticipated. Often the enemy were second-rate troops, Peace Brigade or mercenaries or Yuuzhan Vong workers with scant warrior training who fell apart into a confused muddle once their yammosks were jammed. Jaina’s own rookies had been blooded, but they’d been blooded in battles where great pains had been taken to assure only victory.
Jaina knew that Twin Suns Squadron couldn’t expect battle on such favorable terms forever. Sooner or later the enemy would launch another offensive, and then her squadron would be up against first-line Vong warriors attacking from a position of overwhelming strength. It would make every fight her new pilots had experienced look like a playground skirmish between children.
The knowledge that the enemy offensive would inevitably come kept Jaina on edge. Just because things had been going well was no reason to relax. In fact, she had to be harder than ever in order to keep her pilots from slacking off due to overconfidence.
Fortunately, a few things kept Jaina from exploding with tension. Kyp’s powerful and strangely stabilizing presence. Jacen’s otherworldly calm. Regular messages from her parents, from Luke and Mara … and from Jag Fel.
His squadron was still hunting Yuuzhan Vong on the Hydian Way, and with her he shared the frustrations of a veteran pilot training a large number of rookies.
She was confused about what she should allow Jag to mean to her. She feared he was a distraction; that if she let him into her life, she’d lose her edge. But then moments would come in which she yearned for his embrace, felt the press of his phantom lips on hers …
It was lucky they were apart, she decided. If they were together, the turmoil of her own thoughts and desires might overwhelm her.
But a part of her very much wanted to be overwhelmed.
Her heart lurched as her cockpit displays flashed. A Yuuzhan Vong task force had just left hyperspace. Seven capital ships of varying sizes, all of them now venting squadrons of coralskippers. The Yuuzhan Vong defending Duro had called for help, but it had arrived too late.
For a moment Jaina waited in suspense. The two forces were nearly evenly matched. Kre’fey’s cruisers had taken little damage in their lopsided fight, and few fighters had been lost. The Jedi Force-meld was an advantage the enemy couldn’t match. A nearly bloodl
ess victory had been won, and the New Republic forces were exultant. Morale was as high as it was ever going to get. If Kre’fey gave the word, his task force would fling itself on the enemy in absolute confidence of victory.
Kre’fey could win this, win two battles in a single day. He had to know that.
“Cruisers regroup,” came the order on the command channel. “Starfighters stand by for recovery and transit to hyperspace.”
Jaina felt the tension drain out of her, and the exultation, too. Kre’fey was playing it safe.
He was probably right, she thought. This might not be the only enemy force on its way to help Duro.
But Jaina felt disappointment. She knew the Force was with her today, and might not be on the day of the next battle.
“I believe I’ve found the trap I’ve been looking for,” Ackbar said. “The trap that will spell doom for the Yuuzhan Vong.” He floated in his pool at home, with Luke, Cal Omas, and Admiral Sovv sitting in plush chairs on the rim. The room smelled pleasantly of the sea. Winter stood by with a holoprojector.
She switched on the projector, and a star map floated in the air over Ackbar’s head. Luke knew from the star density that it had to be somewhere in the Core, but otherwise the configurations of the stars were unfamiliar to him.
“This is Treskov One-Fifteen-W,” Ackbar said, as one of the stars blinked against the background. “It’s an old main-sequence star on the outermost fringe of the Deep Core, completely unexceptionable. As you can see from the overlay of our official hyperspace route charts”—a narrow golden ribbon appeared on the display, a hyperspace route leading to the blinking star—“Treskov is a dead end. But if we add the secret Imperial Core routes that Princess Leia brought back from Bastion …” Four other routes appeared on the display, marked in red and radiating from Treskov. “You see that unmarked routes from Treskov lead farther into the Core. One of these”—another blinking light—“leads to an Imperial star base code-named Tarkin’s Fang. The base was sealed and evacuated at the end of the Galactic Civil War, but otherwise remains intact and usable. There is also a large cache of supplies stored at Tarkin’s Fang that the Empire intended to use in the event of renewed hostilities.”
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