The Final Prophecy (19 page)

“Yes, but it would be nice to land near our friends,” Corran replied, “especially since I’ve a feeling we won’t be taking off again—not in this ship.”

“I suggest survival is our first priority,” Yu’shaa answered.

“Point. Okay, folks, we’re about to say a close hello to Zonama Sekot. I suggest you all strap back in. The slow part of this trip is over.”

He hit the atmosphere too steeply, and had to apply a hard push from the dovin basal to correct. The ship winced, but did its job, and they whistled down through the upper atmosphere. He felt the skin temperature climb, and again cut the engine in, trying to stay above terminal velocity. Burning up would be no better than crashing.

Water and jungle whipped by beneath, and Corran had to agree with Harrar—it looked like any of a hundred worlds. But it
felt
different. Tahiri was right—the Force was strong here, but strange, and put up a sort of white noise he couldn’t filter through. Now and then he thought he might feel Luke, but it was never more than a glimpse or a glimmer.

He had more important things to worry about. The treetops were coming up fast. It was time to brake for real.

He engaged the dovin basal and felt it falter almost immediately, and then kick back in. Their airspeed dropped, but not nearly quickly enough. He couldn’t push the engine any harder even if he wanted to, though. He’d diverted all its ability to cancel inertia in the cabin so he could use it to fly, and the g’s were already mounting to his own tolerance
level, which was pretty high. He cut the angle harder, traveling closer and closer to horizontal to the ground, wishing the Sekotan craft had wings, so if the dovin basal failed entirely he would at least have a chance.

A hundred meters from the ground, he still wasn’t level. Fifty, almost there …

They mowed a swath through treetops and the dovin basal went suddenly off-line. Unpowered, the ship was a hollow rock thrown by a giant, and without an inertial compensator they were going to be pasted all over the inside of it.

There’s the unity we’re looking for
, he thought grimly.
Yuuzhan Vong and human, all mixed together in one nasty—

They hit something very hard, and then, desperately, he reached out through the Force, felt Tahiri reaching out too, and then—

Then he felt Sekot, immense, powerful, and indifferent. But something happened, a connection, and they were suddenly falling like a feather—

For just a second. Then free fall returned, and instants later they came to ground, hard.

“Interesting landing,
Jeedai
Horn,” Harrar remarked.

“How is everyone?” Corran turned painfully in his seat to survey his companions.

The return chorus assured him that everyone had made it through.

Everyone but the ship, that is. The glow was going out of it, and the little voice in his head was a whisper, fading.

Sorry
, he sent through the Force.
But you got us here. Thank you
.

Then he felt it go.

He looked out through the viewport at a forested landscape.

“Well,” he told the others, “we seem to be here. I suggest we see if the hatch will open, and find out just what we came all this way for.”

“No, not again,” Han snapped as the
Falcon
dropped suddenly from hyperspace. “This is really starting to get old.” How many times was he going to get pulled out by Yuuzhan Vong interdictor analogs? There weren’t even supposed to
be
any Vong here.

He threw the ship into a series of evasive maneuvers. “Okay, where are you scar-faced clowns?” he growled.

“It’s not Yuuzhan Vong,” Leia said. “Look.”

He did look, and had to resist the temptation to rub his eyes. For there, silhouetted against the bright stars of the Core, was an Imperial interdictor.

He noticed the comm was buzzing for attention. “Put ’em on,” Han managed.

A moment later, a terse voice filtered into the cockpit. “Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Mynar Devis of the Imperial cruiser
Wrack
. Identify yourself immediately.”

“Some things don’t change,” Leia murmured.

“Easy, honey. I think it’s kind of romantic. Takes me back. Anyway, it has to be part of Pellaeon’s bunch.”

He keyed to answer. “Wrack, this is
Millennium Falcon
. Looks like you’re a little lost. The Imperial Remnant is about twenty parsecs from here. Do you mind telling me whose orders you’re under?”

There was a gravid pause. Then the voice returned.
“Captain Solo, I presume. You’re every bit as insolent as I’d heard.”

“Now, listen—” Han began, but the captain cut him off.

“And it’s a great pleasure to meet you.” Devis suddenly sounded very young. “I thought I recognized
Millennium Falcon
from the holos, but I couldn’t be positive. How can I be of service?”

“Ah—” For a rare moment, Han was speechless. “Well, nice to meet you, too,” he said. Not exactly what he’d been expecting, even with the recent alliance. He had a
fan
in the Empire? “But I suppose I still need an answer to my question before we continue this little love fest.”

“Of course, sir. I’m here under orders from Grand Admiral Pellaeon.”

“In connection with Operation Trinity?”

“Yes. I—ah—wasn’t informed you were involved, sir.”

“I just got drafted. In fact, I’m on the way to meet with the Grand Admiral. What are you guys doing, watching the back door?”

“Excuse me? I—oh, I see. Yes, sir. The Grand Admiral placed interdictors on all the major routes leading to the fleet’s location.”

“Smart,” Han said. “Someone comes along and you yank them out of hyperspace and send a warning to the fleet. Dangerous position. What happens if a whole Yuuzhan Vong flotilla jumps in here?”

“We’re to delay any forces that arrive here as long as we can, then jump. Unfortunately, our mission has been impacted by some sort of trouble with the local HoloNet relay. We can’t get a message through to Grand Admiral Pellaeon.”

“It’s not just the local relay,” Han informed him. “The whole thing’s going down. Some sort of new Vong weapon, we think. Communication has been lost between the fleets—that’s why we’re here. Have you sent any couriers?”

“Yes, Captain Solo. We had an incident not long after we
lost communication. We sent a courier to report it and receive orders.”

“Incident? What sort of incident?”

“We pulled a ship out of hyperspace. We gave pursuit, but it launched some sort of weapon that disabled our forward gravity-well generator.”

“Vong?”

“I don’t know. What sensor readings we got made it as organic, but it didn’t match any known profiles of Yuuzhan Vong ships.”

“That’s no surprise,” Han said. “Every time you turn around, they’ve grown something new.”

“Their escape vector didn’t put it going anywhere near the fleets, but it must have reported us. The courier returned and told us to hold our position.”

“That’s good,” Han told Leia. “That means Pellaeon hasn’t pulled out of the whole thing. He’s still waiting on word from Wedge.”

“Which we don’t have,” Leia said.

“Right. To get that, we’d have to go to Bilbringi.”

“Which is not what our orders were,” Leia reminded him.

“True,” Han said. “And I’m such a stickler for orders …” He opened the channel again. “Captain Devis, could you do me a favor and send another courier?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thanks. Tell the Grand Admiral we’re going to see what’s going on with Alpha. As soon as we know something, we’ll report back directly to him.”

“Yes, sir. Captain Solo?”

“Yes?”

“If Alpha is fighting without backup, things may be pretty hot there. May I send an escort with you? I could spare a few TIE defenders.”

“I don’t—”

“Han,” Leia said. “He’s right. And if we get stuck, one of the TIEs might be able to slip out with a report.”

Han nodded reluctantly. “As long as they don’t get in my way,” he said. He opened the channel. “Thanks—the help is appreciated.”

“It’s easily given. I’ve been following your career since I was five years old, sir.”

“Well, let’s hope there’s plenty more for you to follow,” Han replied.

“I’ll see to it,” Devis said.

A few moments later, three TIE defenders came streaking their way.

“Hi, fellows,” Han told them. “I’m sending jump coordinates. Try to keep up with us.”

“We’ll do our best, sir,” the flight leader replied.

Han wrinkled his brow. “Devis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Since when does the captain of an interdictor trade down for a starfighter?”

“Since interdiction duty is boring, sir. I’ll sort it out with the Grand Admiral later. Easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, as they say.”

“Okay,” Han said. “Looks like the interdiction field is down. Let’s go do this.”

A shock ran through Nen Yim as she stepped onto the leaf-littered soil of Zonama Sekot. It went from her toes to the tips of her tendril headdress and left her gaping. She remembered the first time she had set foot on a real planet of stone and soil and biosphere—it had been the moon of Yavin 4, just before her elevation to adept. She had been filled with wonder, fascination, and trepidation. To appearances, Zonama Sekot was not much different from Yavin—vegetation towered in a high canopy above her, and strange sounds of insects and animals created a steady drone. And yet—yet it was different. Yavin 4 had been utterly alien to everything she had ever known, and even Yuuzhan’tar, now bioformed with plants and animals from the lost homeworld, felt
wrong
.

But this place felt
right
, as even the worldship she had grown up on never had. It was as if a piece of her had been cut off and, until it was replaced, she hadn’t even known to miss it.

She realized her mouth was open and closed it. She glanced at her companions, all of whom had come out of the ruined Sekotan ship by now. Harrar and the Prophet looked stunned, as she must. The two
Jeedai
looked curious, but the planet clearly hadn’t had the impact on them that it had on her. Of course, she found human faces difficult to read, despite their similarity in structure.

She tried to shake the feeling off so she could observe objectively. Could there be some sort of pollen in the air, some microbe that affected Yuuzhan Vong but not humans?

Possibly. Something that lulled the thinking mind and created feelings of belonging. Such drugs had been used on the worldships in the deeps of space to keep the population from going mad in the long dark.

“I must begin immediately,” she said.

“This
is
the place,” the Prophet asserted. Oddly enough, he sounded surprised. Harrar said nothing, but the look he shot the Prophet could only have been described as respect.

Suddenly annoyed, Nen Yim went back into the ship to get some of her tools. After a moment, she realized Yu’shaa was following her.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I would like to assist you.”

“I need no assistance from—” She didn’t finish.

The Prophet pulled himself up before her. “A Shamed One?” he said. “Come, Nen Yim. You are a thinker, and, I think, a heretic of a sort. Can’t you see past my disfigurements and understand that you and I are here for the same purpose?”

A hot, unfamiliar feeling passed through her, and her tendrils twitched in consternation.

“Very well,” she said. “This ship is no longer suitable to function as a laboratory. I wish to move my apparati outside and contrive some sort of shelter. You may help with that, if you wish.”

“You will not regret this, Master Yim.”

She nodded, and continued toward the back of the ship. It bothered her, speaking with a Shamed One, but she knew it should not.

Corran wiped the sweat from his brow. “After this,” he said, “our next priority is to find Luke.” He sliced his lightsaber
through the base of another sapling and added it to the pile. Nearby, Tahiri did the same.

“There. That ought to be enough for the frame.”

“I don’t know about you, but the planet is still interfering with my senses. How do we find Master Skywalker without the Force?” Tahiri asked. “It’s a big planet. We can’t just start walking and hope to run into him.”

“No, but this place is supposed to be inhabited—by Ferroans, if I understand correctly, and they ought to be able to help us get in contact with the others.”

“I haven’t seen any signs of civilization,” Tahiri said.

“Neither have I,” Corran admitted. “But tomorrow I’ll start looking. Just short searches, and maybe I can talk Harrar and the Prophet into going with me.”

“What about me?” Tahiri asked. “What do I do?”

“I want you to keep an eye on the shaper. You know her better than I do. What I don’t want is any of them left to their own devices for too long.”

“Okay,” Tahiri replied.

Corran slung the poles over his shoulder and started back toward the clearing near the ship where Nen Yim was depositing a variety of weird biots.

“What have you done?” Harrar asked when he saw them. His tone was dense with reproach.