The Final Prophecy (16 page)

Shimrra somehow seemed to tower even higher, filling the room, the world, the universe.

“What do you know?” he thundered, and she suddenly realized she had somehow misstepped. “What do you know of the
ship
?”

A great invisible claw seemed to clamp about her head, its grip growing swiftly tighter. She felt the joints of her body twitching strangely. Her nerves turned to fire, and she sought something, anything to say, and anything that would turn his gaze away from her. If he had asked her at that moment if she was lying, she would have admitted it, admitted that her words were nothing more than thud bugs cast toward Ahsi Yim, so that Qelah Kwaad might be master shaper.

But he hadn’t asked that. He’d asked about the ship.

“Nothing more than that it exists!” she moaned.

“Nen Yim told you nothing of its origins or nature?”

“Nothing, Dread Lord,” she gasped, swaying. “She stayed to herself! She did not speak of it!”

The pressure suddenly dropped away. The pain recoiled itself back into her brain.

“Your ambition is clear,” Shimrra murmured. “But you raise interesting points. They bear investigation.” He glanced at Onimi. Then he looked off at some unseen thing above her.

“Go,” he commanded. “Return tomorrow and learn your fate.”

She left. When she returned the next day, she was again directed to take up her master’s hand, and she never saw Ahsi Yim again.

The ship’s scream was a distant thing somewhere in the back of Corran’s mind. The thudding jolt of sudden hyperdrive decantation was more immediately tactile.

“What the—” He leapt up and stumbled toward the helm.

“Are we under attack?” Harrar asked.

By that time, Corran could see stars through the transparent canopy. “I don’t know,” he said. “But given my luck so far on this trip, I wouldn’t doubt it.”

“This region isn’t charted,” Tahiri said. “Maybe we hit a gravitic anomaly.”

Corran bit back a reprimand for telling that much, but decided to take his own advice and not dress the young woman down in front of the Yuuzhan Vong. “We’re in charted space,” he said, instead. Which was true, barely.

“Then what could it be?”

“Dovin basal interdictor mine, maybe. The Yuuzhan Vong have them set up all along the major routes to pull ships out of hyperspace.”

“Right.
Millennium Falcon
got pulled out by one on the Corellian Trade Spine.”

“Yep. Let’s hope we have an easier time of—oh, Sith spawn.” He’d been rolling the ship to try to discover the cause of their sudden reversion. Now he saw it.

It wasn’t what he was expecting.

He was staring down the pointy end of a white wedge
larger than many planetbound cities, and he suddenly felt much younger, not in a good way.

“That’s an interdictor, all right,” he said. “An Imperial interdictor.”

“I suppose there’s something to be said for not jumping to hasty conclusions,” Harrar put in, a bit sarcastically.

“No apologies,” Corran said. “It was still a good bet. This, on the other hand …”

“But aren’t they our friends now?” Tahiri asked.

Corran snorted. “Friends? No. Allies, yes.” He pushed the engines and went into a series of extemporaneous maneuvers as salvos of coherent green light flashed around them.

“Either way, should they be firing at us?”

“No, and maybe they wouldn’t be if we weren’t in something much more like a Yuuzhan Vong ship than anything else they’ve seen. Or if we could hail them and tell them who we are, but I don’t see a comm in this thing, unless our shaper friend has hidden it like she did the rest of the controls. As it is, we’d better put a little distance between us and that thing.”

“What’s it doing way out here?”

“I’m not even sure where ‘here’ is,” Corran grumbled, “but I’ve got a good idea why
they’re
here.”

“Why?”

“Can’t say. Top secret.”

Kenth might have told me a bit more about the war plans. I should have figured the push would be in this sector. Bilbringi, maybe? That Interdictor must be part of the Imperial force. But why is it alone? Watching the back door?

Didn’t matter. They couldn’t talk to it and they sure couldn’t fight it, so their only choice was to run like crazy.

“What is wrong?” Nen Yim appeared from aft.

“We’ve just been yanked out of hyperspace by the Imperials.”
Such a familiar thing to say
, he reflected.
Almost comfortable
.

What a ridiculous thought. Was he actually nostalgic for the war against the Empire?

“The Imperials?” Nen Yim said. “I’m no tactician, but aren’t they—ah. They think this is a Yuuzhan Vong ship.”

“The lady takes the hand,” Corran said. A laser seared along the vessel’s side, and he fought for control.

“Jump to hyperspace,” Nen Yim said. “I see no nearby planets.”

“I can’t. It’s an interdictor—it’ll pull us right out again and probably fry the engines as well.”

“Not necessarily,” Nen Yim said.

“No, interdictors work just fine on Yuuzhan Vong hyperdrives. It’s simple physics.”

“Yes, but—” She suddenly stopped.

“What?” Corran shouted back over his shoulder. “I seem to remember you were going to jump from the bottom of a gravity well. But if you’ve got something, let me know.”

“You must give me your promise of secrecy,” the shaper said, her spooky hair doing particularly spooky things.

“I can’t do that.” Corran sighed. “Not if you’ve got something that can be used against us.”

“I certainly cannot divulge war secrets to you without your vow of secrecy,” Nen Yim said.

“Why not? Aren’t we trying to end this war? Isn’t that what this mission is about?”

The ship shuddered and bucked as laser fire hammered its hull.

“The war isn’t over yet,” the shaper reminded him.

“Master Yim,” Harrar interjected. “If we die, and our mission fails—”

“What mission?” Nen Yim snapped. “He won’t take us to Zonama Sekot. He’s taking us to Mon Calamari, probably to be imprisoned. I would rather die here, especially if it prevents placing yet another weapon against us in their hands.”

“We
are
going to Zonama Sekot,” Corran shouted. “We’re
on our way there right now. But it’s going to be a mighty short trip if something doesn’t change soon.”

Nen Yim’s brows lowered dangerously. “Is this true?”

Harrar gripped the shaper’s arm. “I do not fear death any more than you do, Nen Yim. But if you would see this planet—”

“It is untested,” she said. “A variant of a shaping one of my apprentices developed. I created it to use against any Yuuzhan Vong ships that might follow us, but now I see it might be used against one of your interdictors.”

“Well, let’s find out!” Corran said. “Because in about ten seconds …”

Nen Yim nodded and slipped on her cognition hood.

A moment later Corran felt something pass through the ship and then—release.

“What did we just do?”

Nen Yim actually smiled. “If this works, the artificial gravitic anomaly should vanish in a moment. I suggest when the moment arrives, you take us into hyperspace.”

“Tahiri, lay in a microjump,” Corran said.

The young woman nodded and bent to the task.

A laser tore through the cabin behind them, a direct hit that pierced both hulls. Air screamed away into vacuum, and Corran felt as if he had a hot wire through his gut. He could only imagine what a pilot truly attuned to the ship would feel.

Then the wound healed, and the air stopped getting thinner. Neat trick, that. But he wondered what the ship’s healing limits were.

And got an answer, of sorts, from the ship itself. Another hit like that would be too much.

“We’re no longer being held,” Tahiri said.

“Life is good,” Corran replied, and punched them to where the stars didn’t shine.

* * *

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what that thing was?” Corran asked, as his pulse began to slow to something approaching normal.

“I don’t suppose so, no,” Nen Yim replied. “But its field test seems to have gone quite well.”

“Yes, congratulations,” Corran said.
How long before you use it against us?
Well, at least he knew it existed, whatever it was, and unless she was lying it was a prototype, not likely being used at this very moment against the Galactic Alliance.

“This is making my head spin,” he muttered.

“What?” Nen Yim inquired.

“Nothing.”

“Not to interrupt,” Harrar said, “but I’m wondering if what you said about our destination is true?”

Corran turned and noticed that the Prophet had joined them.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s been our destination from the very first.”

“You deceived us,” Nen Yim accused. “Why?”

The Prophet drew himself to his full height and crossed his arms. “To see how we would react,” he said. “If we had tried to force the location of the planet from him, then he would have known we were not to be trusted, and we would never have finished the trip.” He looked pointedly at Corran. “Isn’t that correct,
Jeedai
Horn?”

“That about sums it up,” Corran replied. “That’s a pretty savvy analysis for a holy man.”

“Understanding is the essence of enlightenment.”

And also the basis of espionage, Corran added to himself. I wonder what your job used to be before you were a Prophet
.

Maybe Tahiri could tell from—something. He made a mental note to ask her later.

“How far, then, are we from our destination?” Harrar asked.

“I’m not certain, because we have to proceed in small jumps for a time. Probably a few days.”

    The next jump brought them to the fringes of an unnamed star system. The primary appeared as a tiny blue sphere, but around it sparkled a vast ring that shone as if it were made of a few hundred trillion corusca gems. Tahiri watched in fascination. Sometimes it seemed cloudlike, sometimes almost liquid.

“You must have seen many such wonders,” Nen Yim said.

Tahiri had heard the shaper’s approach, but hadn’t turned. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Every star system is unique. Every star system has its own beauty.”

“This one certainly has. Is that ice?”

“I would imagine,” Tahiri said. “I wasn’t trying to figure it out—I was just enjoying the sight of it.”

“Perhaps the system is poor in heavy elements. The original torus of matter condensed into ice balls, which were then torn apart by tidal forces.”

“Maybe a wandering giant made it as a wedding gift for a nebula,” Tahiri said.

“Why should you assert such a ridiculous explanation?” The shaper seemed truly puzzled.

“Why must you pick everything apart?” Tahiri asked. “Besides, if you believe Yun-Yuuzhan made the universe from his severed body parts, you ought to be able to believe anything.”

Nen Yim was silent for a moment and Tahiri thought the conversation was probably over.

“Belief is a strange thing,” the shaper said at last. “It has immense inertia. My master did not believe in the gods at all.”

“And you?”

The shaper’s headdress tendrils knotted thoughtfully. “Religion, I think, is metaphor, a way of relating to the universe that does not require reason. It’s not very different from your appreciation of this star system for its mere appearance. My joy comes in
understanding
. You’re right—if I could take the universe apart and put it back together, I would.”

“And thus rob yourself of half the wonder,” Tahiri said.

Nen Yim snorted disdainfully. “Wonder is you making up stories about giants and wedding gifts,” she said. “Wonder is my people attributing the creation of the universe to an act of dismemberment. It is avoiding true mystery through fantasy. And if the universe refuses to conform to your fantasy, does it cease to be wonderful? That is a conceit of the highest order.”

“Your own explanation was no better than a guess.”

“True. But it is a guess that can be investigated and tested. It is a guess I will gladly relinquish if proven wrong. It is a guess that will serve as a tool to help me find the truth. For me, that is a far greater wonder than anything taken on faith.”

“So you don’t believe in the gods?” Tahiri asked.

“I think there must be something behind them that is real. I do not think they are real in the orthodox sense.”

“That’s interesting. What do you think they are?”

“I’ve no idea. I don’t have even a guess to use as a starting point.”

“How about this?” Tahiri mused. “Here’s a guess for you. Your gods are actually a misunderstanding of the Force.”

“The energy field you
Jeedai
claim informs your powers?” She sounded dubious.

“You don’t believe in the Force?”

“In the sense that it’s clear you draw on some sort of energy to perform your tricks, as your machines draw on a power
source, yes. That does not mean it is some all-pervasive mystical energy with a will of its own, as you
Jeedai
seem to believe. Indeed, if it is, how can you explain the fact that the Yuuzhan Vong do not exist in the Force?”

“Well, that’s a mystery,” Tahiri said. “But the Force isn’t like a battery. It’s a lot bigger than that.”

“So you believe. If so, perhaps your Force and our gods are
both
misunderstandings of something that somehow encompasses us all.”

Tahiri felt a little chill. That was what Anakin had believed, or very near.

“You believe that?” she asked.

“Certainly not,” the shaper replied. “But … thank you.”

“For what?”

“At least I have a guess to proceed from, for now.” She glanced about. “Where is Corran Horn?”

“He’s taking a break before the next jump to hyperspace. What did you need to see him about?”

“I don’t want to raise any undue alarm, but I think something is wrong with the ship.”

“Wrong?”

“Yes. The space-folding function of the dovin basals seemed erratic in the last jump. I checked them, and there may be a problem.”

“What sort of problem?”

“I think they are dying.”

“Bilbringi system in ten minutes,” Commander Raech of
Mon Mothma
announced. “Prepare for iminent combat.”