by Troy Denning
The Bothan considered the question, but Vale was quick to give her own answer.
“That isn’t necessary,” she said. “Admirals make me nervous.”
Jacen nodded, then followed the Bothan out of the docking bay toward the forepart of the ship.
And then he felt the universe slow down as if time itself had been altered. He was aware of how long a time it seemed to take for his foot to reach the floor, aware of the long space between his heartbeats.
Something had just changed. Jacen let the Jedi meld that had been sitting quietly in some back room of his mind come to the fore, and he felt surprise and consternation in the minds of the other Jedi, a confusion that was soon replaced with grim resolve and frantic calculation.
Jacen’s foot touched the deck. He took a breath. He was aware that a Yuuzhan Vong fleet had just entered the system, and that his plan for the Battle of Ylesia had just gone terribly wrong.
“I think we’d better hurry,” he told the startled Bothan lieutenant, and began to run.
The huge cutting beams of the engineers’ lasers were chopping the vault door into scrap. Jaina shrank away from the bright light and heat. She could sense panic through the vault doors, panic and flashes of desperate readiness from those preparing themselves for hopeless resistance. A few blaster bolts came spanging out of the torn vault, but the lasers were shielded and the blasters did no damage.
Jaina looked at the troopers preparing to storm the Senate bunker, and she thought that was a lot of firepower to subdue a group who might be no more prepared to resist capture than their army or fleet. She found General Jamina and saluted.
“Sir, I’d like to be first into the vault. I think I can get them to surrender.”
Jamira took barely a second to consider the request. “I’m not going to tell a Jedi she can’t be the first into a tight spot,” he said. “I’ve seen what you people can do.” He nodded. “Just be sure you call for help if you need it.”
“I will, sir.”
She snapped the general a salute and trotted back to the vault door. The cutting was almost done. Melted duralloy had frozen on the floor of the anteroom in the shape of a waterfall. Jaina stood next to Lowbacca, who gave her a significant look as he unclipped his lightsaber. Jaina grinned. Without a word he’d shown he understood her plan, and approved.
Jaina ignited her own lightsaber as the laser finished its final cut. With a shove of the Force she pushed the final chunk of the vault door into the interior, where it rang on the floor. Blaster bolts flashed out of the hole, and someone inside shouted, “You people keep out!”
Jaina leapt through the door headfirst, tucked into a somersault, came out on her feet. The blasterfire sizzled after her, allowing Lowbacca to follow through the hole without being targeted.
The room was bare duracrete, with no furniture and few fixtures: the Peace Brigade Senators were huddled in corners, shrinking away from those who were determined to fight for their freedom. Blaster bolts came at Jaina thick and fast. She leapt for the nearest shooter, parrying blasterfire with her lightsaber. Bolts ricocheted off the hard walls and ceiling, and someone cried out as he was hit. The shooter was a big Jenet, and snarled at Jaina as she came for him.
She sliced the blaster apart with her lightsaber, then kicked the Jenet in the teeth with an inside crescent kick. She followed through with a heel hook that dropped the Jenet to the floor.
She saw Lowbacca grab a couple of other shooters, a pair of fighting Ganks, and bang their heads together. Peace Brigade Senators scuttled and huddled for cover. Another blaster went off, and Jaina parried the bolt back into the shooter’s knee. The Force powered a jump that took her the six meters to the Ishi Tib shooter, where she kicked the blaster out of her hand; and then the Force seized the blaster and smashed it into the face of another shooter. His own bolt went wild into the crowd of Senators, and there was a scream. Lowbacca leapt on him from behind and smashed him in the head with one massive furry hand.
There was silence, except for the sobs of one of the wounded. The room stank from the ozone discharge of weapons. Armored New Republic troopers began to enter the room, weapons directed at the Brigaders.
Jaina brandished her lightsaber over the cowering group, its loud thrummm echoing in the small room, and called, “Surrender! In the name of the New Republic!”
“On the contrary,” a commanding voice said. “In the name of the New Republic, I call on you to surrender.”
Jaina looked in surprise at the tall, cloaked figure that rose from a huddled group of Brigaders, at the arrow-shaped head and writhing face-tentacles.
“Senator Pwoe?” she said in surprise.
“Chief of State Pwoe,” the Quarren corrected. “Head of the New Republic. I am present on Ylesia in order to negotiate a treaty of friendship and mutual aid with the Ylesian Republic. I call upon New Republic forces to cease these acts of aggression against a friendly allied regime.”
Jaina was so taken aback that she barked out a surprised laugh. Pwoe, an avowed foe of the Jedi, had been a member of Borsk Fey’lya’s Advisory Council. When Fey’lya died in the ruin of Coruscant, Pwoe had declared himself Chief of State and began to issue orders to the New Republic government and military.
He might have gotten away with it if he hadn’t overplayed his hand. When the Senate reconvened on Mon Calamari—ironically, Pwoe’s homeworld—they’d issued an order calling on Pwoe and all other Senators to join them. Instead of obeying, Pwoe had issued an order to the Senate calling for them to join him on Kuat.
The Senate had been offended, formally deprived Pwoe of any powers, and conducted their own election for Chief of State. Eventually—and after a full measure of the usual skulduggery—the pro-Jedi Cal Omas was elected. Since then, Pwoe had been traveling from one part of the galaxy to another, trying to rally his ever-diminishing number of supporters.
“This peace treaty is vital to the interests of the New Republic,” Pwoe went on. “This typical Jedi violence is on the verge of spoiling everything.”
Jaina’s grin broadened. Apparently Pwoe had grown so desperate that he’d decided that he could only regain his prestige and following if he came to Mon Calamari waving a peace agreement.
“I’m very sorry to disturb any important treaties,” she said. “Perhaps you would care to step outside and speak to General Jamira?”
“That will not be necessary. I call upon the general and the rest of you to leave Ylesia at once.”
The Ishi Tib, lying at Jaina’s feet, began a gradual movement aimed at freeing a weapon concealed somewhere within her robes. Jaina stepped on her hand. The movement ceased.
“I think you should speak to the general,” she said, and turned to the dozen soldiers who had been quietly entering the room during the course of this discussion. “Please escort Senator Pwoe to the general.” Two armored troopers marched to either side of Pwoe, seized his arms, and began carrying him toward the vault door.
“Take your hands off me!” he boomed. “I’m your Chief of State!”
Jaina watched as Pwoe was carried away. Then she bent to relieve the Ishi Tib of her hidden blaster, and straightened to address the rest of the Brigaders.
“And the rest of you”—she raised her voice—“should file out of the room one by one, with your hands in plain sight.”
Soldiers searched and scanned the Brigaders, then cuffed them, before they were allowed out of the vault. Engineers entered and began preparing explosives to destroy the bunker once it had been evacuated. Jaina and Lowbacca waited in the bare room as the Brigaders slowly left.
They were aware of the change in the Jedi meld at the same time, the sudden vast surprise at the appearance of a new enemy.
Here’s where it all goes wrong. The thought sang at the back of Jaina’s mind.
She looked at Lowbacca, and knew that the Wookiee shared the knowledge that their time on the ground had run out.
Maal Lah gave a roar of triumph as the patrolling starfighters sudd
enly throttled up their engines and pointed their noses to the sky. The arrival of a Yuuzhan Vong fleet had given the infidels better things to do than cruise the air above Peace City.
It was time to meet the enemy, but Maal Lah knew that the battle was lost at the city center. There was no point in reinforcing the Peace Brigade’s failure.
Another course recommended itself. The commander also knew where the New Republic forces were at the present. He knew that eventually they would have to retreat to their landing zones outside of town.
Between these two places he would make his killing ground. And conveniently, the quednak stables happened to be nearby.
He called into the shoulder villip that communicated with his warriors. “Our hour has arrived!” he said. “We will advance to meet the enemy!”
Jacen arrived breathless on Ralroost’s bridge to find Admiral Kre’fey already making his opening moves. An enemy fleet had leapt out of hyperspace, and Kre’fey was placing his own ships between the Yuuzhan Vong and the ground forces on Ylesia.
“Welcome, Jacen,” the white-furred Bothan said, his eyes still fixed on the holographic display that showed the relative positions of the fleets. “I see you understand there’s been a new complication.”
“How many?” Jacen said.
“Their forces are roughly equal to ours. But so many of our personnel are inexperienced, I would prefer not to engage.” He raised his eyes from the display. “Fortunately my opposite seems in no hurry to begin a fight.”
Indeed this was the case. The Yuuzhan Vong weren’t moving to attack, but were instead hovering just outside Ylesia’s mass shadow.
“Can you give me a starfighter?” Jacen asked.
“I’m afraid not. Our fighter bays were packed with operational craft only, plus their pilots—we carry no spares.”
Frustration snarled in Jacen as Kre’fey’s attention snapped back to the display. “Ah,” the admiral said. “My opposite is moving.”
The Yuuzhan Vong had detached a part of their force and were extending it to one flank, perhaps intending a partial envelopment.
“Easily countered,” Kre’fey said, and ordered one of his own divisions to extend his own flank, matching the enemy movement precisely.
Jacen stalked around the room in a brief circle, angry at his own uselessness. He considered returning to his X-wing and flying to Ylesia to Jaina’s aid, and then realized that his wounded craft wouldn’t be an asset, but a liability—she’d have to detach pilots to look after him, pilots who would have many better uses in an engagement than escorting a crippled ship.
He finally surrendered to the fact he was going to spend the rest of the battle aboard Ralroost.
Jacen found a corner of the bridge out of everyone’s way and let the Jedi meld float to the surface of his mind. If he couldn’t be of any direct use in the upcoming battle, he could at least send strength and support to his comrades.
Jaina and Lowbacca, he sensed, were in motion, speeding toward their fighters. The other Jedi were waiting in their cockpits, waiting for the battle to begin. Jacen could sense them in relation to one another, an array of intent minds focused on the enemy.
Through the meld, he sensed the Yuuzhan Vong fleet make another move, another division shifting out onto the flank, extending it farther into space. Only half a minute later did he hear Kre’fey’s staff announce the move, followed by the Bothan admiral’s counter.
The Yuuzhan Vong kept moving to the flank. And Jacen began to wonder why.
Pwoe and Thrackan Sal-Solo, cuffed, were keeping each other company in the back of the landspeeder. Neither of the illusory presidents seemed to have much to say to the other, or to anyone else, at least not since Thrackan’s muttered, “Do I really have to sit with the Squid Head?” as Pwoe was directed into the vehicle.
As it turned out there was no room for Thrackan or anyone else to sit. The landspeeders were standing room only, packed with soldiers, prisoners, and refugees.
The vehicles moved as fast as possible toward the landing zone, though they were being slowed by crowds of refugees, slaves, and other unwilling workers begging for transport off-planet. As many as could fit into the landspeeders were pulled aboard. In their withdrawal to the landing zone the speeders hadn’t gotten onto the roads in any particular order, and the speeder that Jaina shared with Lowbacca, Thrackan, and Pwoe was more or less in the middle of the column.
The column had reached the outskirts of the city, which at this point consisted of a strip of buildings on either side of the main road, all surrounded by wild country, unaltered terrain.
Jaina turned at the sound of an explosion behind her, a concussion followed by a shock wave that she could feel in her insides. Smoke and debris jetted high over the surrounding buildings. The engineers had just destroyed the Brigaders’ bunker, as well as the Palace of Peace and other public buildings.
Jaina turned to face forward just as a giant, lichen-colored beast stepped from behind a building into the road in front of the column. Jaina’s heart thundered as the lead landspeeder crashed into the animal, enraging the beast even though the inertial dampeners on the machine saved the crew and passengers. Another speeder smashed into the first from behind, preventing it from reversing. The beast reared onto its hind legs, and Jaina saw Yuuzhan Vong warriors clinging for dear life to their basket on the beast’s back. Shields sparked and failed as the quednak’s first four feet dropped massively onto the speeder. Jaina could hear the screams of the passengers as they died.
Jaina reached for her lightsaber, then her blaster, then hesitated. None of her weapons could kill this animal.
Vehicle-mounted weapons split the air as they opened fire on the riding beast. The quednak screamed and charged forward, crushing the forepart of a second landspeeder and brushing aside a third. One of its riders was hurled from his seat and flew, arms windmilling, into the side of a nearby building.
“Back! Back! Take a side street out of here!” The officer in command of the landspeeder barked orders to the driver. And then Jaina felt a shadow fall over her, and she turned.
Another riding beast was being driven out into the road behind Jaina’s speeder. Her lightsaber leapt into her hand and she took three long jumps to the back of the landspeeder and launched herself for the riders on the quednak’s back.
The Force seemed to catch her by the spine and fling her onto the creature’s back, and she gave silent thanks to Lowbacca for the assist as she landed on the broad, flat haunches. She was poised atop the middle pair of legs, her balance uneasy with the creature’s lurching, swaying motion. The two riders sat in a shell-shaped box forward. Jaina ignited her lightsaber and charged, her boot driving for traction on the moss-covered surface of the beast’s scales.
One of the Yuuzhan Vong in the box leapt out to face her while the other continued to guide the beast. The air reeked of the quednak’s stench. Landspeeders dodged from beneath its clawed feet. Panicked gunners at the tail of the column were opening fire, scorching the creature’s massive sides, but the quednak remained under the control of its driver.
Jaina’s opponent thrust out his amphistaff, its head spitting poison. Jaina slapped the poison out of the air with a Force-generated wind and sprang forward to engage, thrusting right for the Yuuzhan Vong’s tattooed face. His circular parry almost tore the lightsaber from her fingers, but she managed to disengage in time, and now she made a less impulsive attack.
Jaina’s violet blade struck again and again, but the Yuuzhan Vong parried them all, an intent look visible under the brim of the vonduun crab helmet. He was concentrating solely on defense, on keeping her off the driver until he could trample the maximum number of landspeeders under the beast’s claws. Frustration built in her as she redoubled her attack, the violet blade building into a pattern that would result in the amphistaff being drawn out of line and opening the Yuuzhan Vong for a finishing thrust.
Unexpectedly Jaina threw herself flat on the quednak’s back. A bright red-orange bolt
from a blaster cannon ripped the air where she’d been half a second before. The Yuuzhan Vong hesitated, blinking, dazzled by the flash, and then Jaina rose on one hand only and lashed a foot forward, sweeping the warrior’s feet. He gave a cry of pure rage as he tumbled off the creature’s sides.
Jaina hurled herself toward the driver in his box, but another cannon opened fire, and the box disappeared in a flash of flame, the heat scorching her face. Frantically she looked for a way to control the creature. The quednak gave a cry of absolute fury and began to back, trying to turn to get at the source of the blaster bolts that were tormenting it.
A volley of bolts slammed into the beast and blew Jaina off the creature’s back. She tumbled free, calling on the Force to cushion her landing on the duracrete. Even so the impact knocked the breath from her lungs, her teeth clacking together on impact. From her position on the ground she saw Lowie dragging wounded civilians from a wrecked landspeeder, other intact speeders milling amid a swarm of confused refugees and stunned prisoners, and the death agonies of the other quednak, which had finally succumbed to heavy weapon fire.
Then the second beast, the one she’d ridden, took a cannon bolt to the head, and reared as it began to die. Jaina saw the slab-sided wall flank begin its fall, and she scuttled like a crab out of the way as the creature came down in a wave of stench and blood. An agonized thrash of its tail threw a pair of landspeeders against a wall, and then the giant lizard was dead.
Dead riding beasts now blocked the road at either end, trapping the column between rows of buildings. Overhead came a pair of swift flyers, swoop analogs, that dived over the street, plasma cannons stuttering. Jaina rolled away from fire and flying splinters as superheated plasma ripped the duracrete near her.
The worst threat from the swoop analogs wasn’t their cannons, however. Each had a dovin basal propulsion unit in its nose, and these living singularities leapt out to snatch at the landspeeders’ shields, overloading them and causing them to fail in a flash of frustrated energy.