The Unifying Force

by James Luceno

  Everyone raced back to the intersection, but with a dead end in one direction and Yuuzhan Vong in the other, there was no safe turn.

  They had to make a stand.

  The band of warriors C-3PO had insulted surged down the corridor. Forty strong, they outnumbered the defenders better than two to one. Fusillades of blasterfire improved the odds somewhat, but also depleted many of the weapons. Exhilarated by the sight of empty blasters being hurled aside, the warriors ordered their amphistaffs to curl about their forearms, and began to strut forward, determined to go hand to hand with their quarries. Several of them had their sights set on Leia, who was parrying the last of the thud bugs with nimble twists of her lightsaber.

  Han broke for her side, shooting from the hip to drop two or Leia's would-be contenders. Two others were quick to fill the gap-One lost his head to Leia's blade. The other flew straight at Han> driving him clear across the corridor and hard into the exterior bulk' head. Dodging hammer blows, Han slid down the wall and squirmed between the warrior's legs, hoping to be able to choke him fro01

  i • ci But the warrior spun while Han was struggling to stand, his huge hands around Han's neck in an asth-korr throat hold

  ' W

  him back against the bulkhead.

  Han saw stars; then darkness made a narrow tunnel of his vision.

  vis gasping for breath when the warrior's head suddenly ex--ied The hands on Han's throat loosened, and the body crumpled

  he deck, taking Han with it. Certain that Leia had saved him, he . | to crawl out from under the Yuuzhan Vong, but the corpse

  ildn't budge. His outstretched right hand seized on a small object H he held it up to his eyes. As long as a human finger, and some-vhat thicker, it was an older- generation rocket dart, with its obviously defective explosive tip still attached.

  Han wriggled free of the fallen warrior in time to see four more Yuuzhan Vong felled from behind by blaster bolts and rocket darts. The fatal volley was coming from halfway down the corridor, where half a dozen soldiers were crouched, kneeling, and prone on the deck.

  They wore pinch-cheeked helmets that were as domed as an R2 unit, bisected by horizontal viewplate strips and surmounted by flag-like targeting range finders. Their gray uniforms were exoskeletoned by blast dissipation vests, forearm gauntlets, kneepads, armor-mesh gloves, and alloy boots with zero-g gripsoles. They were armed with blaster rifles, handguns, combat knives, rocket dart launchers, and whatever else might have been hiding in the alloy utility pouches affixed to their broad belts.

  A weapons system all his own, the leader wore a combination jet pack and antipersonnel missile launcher, and his belt was red. Catching sight of Han, the trooper tendered a distinctive fingertip salute before hurrying off.

  Leia was suddenly alongside Han and helping him to his feet, but ;r gaze was directed down the corridor. When she finally turned to ln> her eyes were wide, her mouth a rictus of astonishment.

  "Fett>" Han managed. «Fett?»

  Leia shook her head in refusal. "It can't be him. Anyone could be nsjde that armor!"

  ttan nodded his head in agreement. "That's gotta be it. Besides, I

  n> even if it is him, he was probably trying to &z7/me, not save me."

  The galaxy's most notorious bounty hunter, Boba Fett had been the death of Han, Leia, and even C-3PO following the BattT"'' Hoth, during the Galactic Civil War. But the then-Rebels had eve ^ the score on Tatooine by dropping Fett into the hungry maw of a s

  lace that resided in the desert world's Great Pit of Carkoon 1U

  ' *-*ttnv believed that Fett had ended his days there, but Han and Leia k

  better, having encountered Fett on several occasions since his esc from the Sarlacc. However, there had been no accounts of the m since the start of the Yuuzhan Vong war, and Han was inclined t agree with Leia that the trooper who had saluted him could have bee anyone. And yet there was the familiar voice of the man who had called himself "Hurn."

  Han, Leia, C-3PO, and the surviving Caluula soldiers stepped over the bodies of the Yuuzhan Vong and raced after the troops in Mandalorian armor, who had already moved off.

  Dozens of Yuuzhan Vong lay dead or dying in the corridor, and fierce fighting was under way in the high-ceilinged hold into which the corridor debouched. Han watched a warrior battle vainly against a whipcord that had lashed around his neck, and was just then dragging him into an area of the hold Han couldn't see. He saw two more warriors nearly halved by rocket darts. The sibilant reports of blasters were momentarily overwhelmed by the ear-shattering explosion of a concussion missile. Six warriors, lanced by shrapnel, flew backward into the hold. But still others attacked. A strapping warrior with a coufee in each hand charged screaming around the corner, only to reappear moments later, black with blood.

  Leia clamped her left hand on Han's upper arm. "Didn't that one have hair when he went in?"

  Han nodded in shock. "I think they're taking scalps."

  A knot of Yuuzhan Vong warriors had formed in the hold, many of them gesticulating wildly and all of them talking at once.

  "Princess Leia, Captain Solo," C-3PO said from behind them-"The Yuuzhan Vong are very excited. They have sent runners to other parts of Caluula Station to report that they have found warriors who are exceptionally worthy of captivity."

  "I'd say that's pretty optimistic of them," Leia said.

  and Han fought their way into the hold. The armored soldiers n backed into a corner. Two of them were certainly dead, and

  Tethers were jn danger of being overpowered by groups of

  died Yuuzhan Vong. The Caluula forces gathered what weapons

  could find and dashed forward to help. n was searching for the leader when he heard a loud whoosh!

  sa%v the trooper who might have been Boba Fett streaking toward

  r Blades of fire shot from the jet pack's hornlike gimbaling the ct-'m^c**

  and bolts rained down on the warriors from his twin hand

  ters, which he twirled expertly before slipping them back into their

  Isters. Amphistaffs flew at him from all quarters, one of them

  itching him in the chest and sending him off course into a bulkhead.

  Fighting broke out among the Yuuzhan Vong for the privilege of

  being the first to reach him. Two warriors were climbing over the

  others, almost within arm's reach of the rocket man, when Han raised

  and aimed his blaster.

  "Just in case it is him," Leia said, "try not to hit the jet pack."

  "He has returned! Yu'shaa has returned!"

  The gathering was small, numbering no more than two hundred Shamed Ones, but word of the Prophet's return was spreading through the underbelly of Yuuzhan'tar, and given enough time the audience would swell to thousands, perhaps tens of thousands.

  Nom Anor gazed down from what had once been the elevated rail of a magnetically levitated transport, to what had been a broad boulevard of nightclubs and restaurants, where his followers stood with faces raised in renewed hope and expectation.

  For a moment—and just that—it felt good to be back. From his residence he had retrieved the ooglith cloaker that disguised him as Yu'shaa. He had told his servants that he was not to be isturbed, and, attired in the garb of an ordinary worker, he had let himself out through a secret passage and wound his way through the iacred precinct, past the Temple of the Modeler and the Place of the ead, through the districts of Vistu and Bluudon, shaking spies per-)s °nly imagined, then on along well-trodden paths that led down >v the verdant surface growth, down into the deep canyons that

  bed to the top of the rail. "You promised that you would ele-

  nre vou had regained your status, and you have been esca-vate us once y

  beyond the rank you held. You're in a position to help us nd

  U t

  °

  e nd our boldest imaginings. Guise or not, you are indeed the

  lat bey

  with

  had onc
e harbored Coruscant's poor and disenfranchised and

  not

  the arrival of the Yuuzhan Vong, had become the realm of Shamed, where outsiders were met with suspicion, and anyone Shamed had to tread carefully, for fear of never surfacing again.

  At certain crossings he had uttered passcodes that had opened th way to even lower levels, not merely populated by Shamed Ones K also ruled by them. He recalled having spied Onimi on a path mu like the ones he was forced to follow; Onimi, doing Shimrra's biddin who had unwittingly led Nom Anor to the knowledge that the ulti mate repository of the shapers' arts, the so-called eighth cortex w empty. Now he, too, was doing Shimrra's bidding and, like Onimi had become Shimrra's puppet and pet, tasked with safeguarding secrets.

  Long before Nom Anor had been able to seek out his former confederates he had been recognized, and Shamed Ones in filthy frocks and tattered robeskins had flocked to his side, in awe of Yu'shaa's unannounced reappearance.

  "The rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated," he had tried to tell them.

  Only to hear someone respond: "The Prophet has defeated Shimrra! He has defeated death!"

  "No, you miscomprehend," he had said. "I was never taken by Shimrra."

  "The Prophet evaded Shimrra. He has been waiting only for the right moment to reappear among us!"

  His carefully conceived plans went further downhill from there.

  By the time he had reached what was the broad boulevard—now grown over with shrubs and saplings—a small crowd had already formed. No one seemed to care that Shimrra had expressly forbidden such gatherings, under penalty of dishonorable death.

  "He has returned! Yu'shaa has returned!"

  Nom Anor scanned the crowd. Below the elevated track, pushing their way forward, came Kunra, Idrish, and V'tel. A Shamed warrior, Kunra had been Yu'shaa's bodyguard and chief disciple, and the only one who knew of Nom Anor's visit to Zonama Sekot.

  "We knew you would return," Kunra said when he and the others

  Nom Anor recalled his words to Kunra and the late Niiriit.

  d he had vowed to restore the honor of the Shamed Ones. If they only knew how he had betrayed them. "Yes, I promised to lift you," he said to Kunra. "But we must wait while longer. This time I come only to warn you. Shimrra knows hat you're planning to do at the sacrifice, and you must trust me when I tell you that he will respond wrathfully."

  Kunra spread his arms and raised them over the crowd. "Yu'shaa says that we must restage our plan—that we must attack in greater

  numbers."

  "No, no," Nom Anor said while the crowd cheered. "You must rethink the plan entirely, or Shimrra will eradicate you!"

  Kunra raised his arms again. "Shimrra plans to eradicate us! We must make the first move!"

  Nom Anor bellowed to the Shamed Ones, "You can't look to me, the Jeedai, or anyone else to deliver you from your lowly stations! None of us can repair your disfigurements or modify your rejected enhancements!"

  "Yu'shaa calls on us accept that our blemishes are only surface imperfections, and that we must look past them to see our true selves," Kunra said. "He tells us to follow the authority of our inner selves; to steer by our inner rudders for all important decisions, rather than pray to the gods, consult with the priests, or fear what actions the warriors and intendants might take against us!

  "Individualism is the greatest threat to the hierarchy supported by Shimrra's elite. Shimrra relies on the elite, in order to preserve a system that perpetuates inequity. He wishes to keep us anchored to ritual and domain, so that he and the elite may prosper. But the Prophet tells us ^at we are individuals first, and citizens last!"

  A chill passed through Nom Anor. He finally understood what unra was doing. Kunra—who had saved his life after an assassination

  attempt by Shoon-mi Esh, and who burned with a warrior's fire—-^ not about to let Nom Anor shrink from the promise he had made

  What was supposed to have been a final sermon had become contest of wills.

  Nom Anor tried once more to persuade the crowd.

  "You err by looking to me or my disciples for signs!"

  Kunra showed him a covert grin. "The Prophet tells us to look to nature, to the sky, and to the stars—to the planet of redemption whose coming he foretold!"

  The Shamed Ones cheered and lifted their faces higher, beyond the elevated train rail, as if searching the sliver of purple sky for signs Kunra moved close to Nom Anor, close enough so that Nom Anor could feel the tip of a coufee against his ribs.

  "Well done, TH'shcm" he said quietly. "The multitudes are heated to the point of boiling over. We couldn't have done this without you." He paused, then added: "And remember, Prefect: Just as all things are possible on Yuuzhan'tar today, all things will be possible tomorrow."

  >4

  s had become her ritual since returning from the convoy ambush, Jaina would search out the officer of the watch every four hours to learn if the Falcon had been heard from; then she would spend the next hour or so at one of Ralroosfs observation viewports, gazing at the incoming traffic and stretching out with the Force, in the hope that one of the moving lights might return her touch, or convey some a hint of familiarity.

  She was about to abandon the effort that afternoon when a swiftly moving ship caught her eye. If there was a spaceborne equivalent of a swoop, Jaina figured she was looking at it. A cramped cockpit anchored to incongruous ion fusion and hyperdrive engines, the small craft was inbound, and on a trajectory for Ralroost's primary docking bay.

  Jaina set off for the bay, hurrying down the attack cruiser's sterile

  passageways and offering only the hastiest of answering salutes to

  tssing noncoms. By the time she had descended from the landing

  Y s service gantry, the craft's human pilot was on deck and taking off

  ls scratched and dented helmet. His hair was red and shaggy, and his

  - was wildly freckled. Made up of garments borrowed from at least

  e separate units, his flight uniform was soiled and patched, and his

  s were as mismatched as the engines of his ship. The blaster on

  niP was even more ancient than Han's.

  153

  When Jaina intercepted him on the landing apron, he offered a crisp salute.

  "Where are you arriving from, Lieutenant?" she shouted above the din of warming engines, repair work, and launches.

  "Caluula Orbital, Colonel." Noting Jaina's confusion, he added-"Tion Hegemony. I've a message from the commanding officer for Galactic Alliance command!"

  Jaina moved closer to him. "You're a courier?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then I'll show you to Admiral Kre'fey's cabin."

  Clearly, the offer puzzled him, but he thanked her out of respect. "That's really not necessary—"

  "I insist." Jaina motioned to the passageway hatch and fell into step beside him. "When did you leave Caluula?" she asked when they could finally speak without shouting.

  "Two days ago, local. No hostile contacts along the way. But my ship had some drive problems."

  "Did any ships land at Caluula before you launched?"

  "Ships?"

  "A banged-up YT-thirteen-hundred freighter, in particular?"

  "No."

  "You're sure?"

  "I'd've remembered a YT-thirteen-hundred, sir."

  "What's the situation at Caluula?"

  The lieutenant glanced around. "I don't know that I'm at liberty—" he began, then shrugged. "What's it matter, right? Commanding Officer Garray wants the admiral to be advised that unless we can be reinforced and reprovisioned, we're likely to fall to the Yuuzhan Vong."

  Jaina felt her pulse quicken. "I'm sorry to hear that."

  He stopped abruptly. "If it's all right with you, I'll go the rest of the way on my own. The sooner I deliver the message, the sooner I can get back to Caluula."

  Jaina nodded. "May the Force be with you, Lieutenant."

  "Same with you."

  Ja
ina watched him rush off. For the first time in a long while she

  felt isolated and fearful. Still no word from Jacen, Luke, or Mara, and

  0v her father and mother were missing, possibly marooned in some

  ernote star system. When she tried to reinforce the sense that they

  vere all right, dreadful images whirled in her mind. And when she

  called to Leia through the Force, she received no response.

  She began to understand how her parents must have felt when rheir children had embarked on the mission to Myrkr. Anakin killed, Jacen missing, Jaina fleeing for the Hapes Consortium in a pirated Yuuzhan Vong vessel ... It was difficult enough being a teenager and worrying about your parents' safety. But being a parent and worrying about your kids had to be even worse. As Han had said on Anakin's death: A father isn't supposed to outlive his children.

  Jaina's thoughts turned briefly to her uncle Luke and aunt Mara. They had left their infant son, Ben, in the care of Ram and Tionne, at the hidden Maw Installation. But they had to be wondering, worrying . . . Sometimes even the Force couldn't protect a person from imagined fears. Jaina pondered if she would ever be able to raise a family; to cope day to day with the concern that her child would fall victim to illness or accident, make a wrong choice, or be in the wrong place at the wrong time . . .

  Dizzy at the thought, she leaned against the cold bulkhead. She heard someone call her by name, and turned to see Jag hastening to her.

  Tall and wiry, with a shock of white in his black hair, he was the son of Soontir Fel and Syal Antilles, both of whom had elected to remain in Chiss space. Like his Chiss confederates in Vanguard Squadron, Jag wore a black uniform with red piping.

  "Are you all right?" he asked with uncommon alarm. "Did something happen?"

  They held each other for a moment before Jaina straightened. "I'm fine. No, actually, I'm not fine. I'm scared to death."

  Jag's green eyes searched her face. "Of what?"

  She shook her head in uncertainty. "Possibilities."