Star Wars_ The Unifying Force Part 53

Kyp was the first to deactivate his lightsaber; the rest followed.

Cilghal loosed a joyful exhale and put her arm around Danni's waist.

"These warriors will be the first converts," she said. "This ground will become a hallowed place."

Transfixed by the scene, Kyp clapped his hand on Corran's shoulder and muttered, "A world has been saved from destruction."

Dying rapidly, the yorik-trema was no longer accelerating but tumbling through s.p.a.ce. Whatever flora was responsible for providing breathable atmosphere was failing, as the interior walls' bioluminescent lichen already had.

"It doesn't want to respond to me," Jaina said from the controls.

The hull's transparency was filmed by a thickening cataract, but Han and Leia could still discern the distinctive shape of the Millennium falcon, racing to come alongside, escorted by two battle-scarred X-wings.

"Come on, Mara," Han said through gritted teeth. "Use the tractor beam."

"That won't help," Jaina said as she tugged the flimsy cognition hood from her head. "Our only chance is to get aboard the Falcon."

Her eyes roamed over the irregularly pulsing control console.

"There's just enough life left in this ship for it to extend an umbilical."

"Oh, no," Han muttered. "Not again."

Jaina tweaked one of the organiform control arms that grew from the console. Accompanied by wet, squishy sounds, the central section of the craft's cramped deck softened, and an osmotic membrane began to form. Han glanced at the expanding circle in growing dismay, imagining the craft's intestinelike cofferdam flailing in s.p.a.ce as it attempted to vacuum-seal against the Falcon's portside docking ring or dorsal hatch.

Abruptly the freighter snagged the yorik-trema, stopping it from tumbling. The deck membrane irised open, and a nauseating odor invaded the cabin s.p.a.ce. Han clamped his right hand over his mouth.

"How do we know the umbilical's properly sealed against the hatch?"

"It's not the tightest fit, Dad," Jaina said, "but it's one we can survive."

Jacen peered into the confined, throbbing tube.

"Guess we're going to have to crawl."

Han's face fell.

"Ah, this is too much-even for me."

Leia glanced at him.

"I'll go first, if it'll make you feel better."

"Only thing that's gonna make me feel better is an EVA suit."

Leia stroked his whiskered face.

"Be brave, darling."

Lowering herself to the deck, she wormed through the membrane and began to elbow-crawl through the tube. Han took a deep breath and followed, his hands disappearing to the wrist in the slime that covered the floor. Two minutes later Leia disappeared from view, and Han's hands touched the comforting solidity of the Falcon's air lock.

One by one, coated with slime and reeking of putrid organics, the four of them squeezed into the freighter's portside docking arm, where Kenth, Harrar, C-3PO, and R2-D2 were waiting.

"Oh, my," the protocol droid said. "I'll activate the sonic shower at once."

R2-D2 rocked on his feet, whistling and tooting. No sooner had Kenth dogged the hatch than Mara came running through the forward compartment, calling over her shoulder to Tahiri and the Noghri that everyone was safely aboard.

"Where's Uncle Luke?" Jacen asked.

Mara grabbed him by the arm and hauled him into the aft cabin s.p.a.ce, where Luke was laid out on one of the small sleeping platforms.

Han, Leia, and Jaina crowded in behind them. Jacen kneeled by the bed and carefully removed the dressing Kenth had placed over the deep puncture wound in the left side of Luke's chest.

Luke's face and hands were white. His lips and the beds of his fingernails were slightly blue. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow.

"Shimrra's amphistaff," Mara said anxiously.

Jacen looked up at her and nodded.

"I saw him get stabbed."

Mara pressed her hands to her eyes and began to cry. Jacen took her tear-moistened hands in his and brought them to Luke's chest wound. He held them there for a long moment, removing his hands only once, to convey some of his own tears to Luke's wound. Luke's chest heaved as he took a sharp inhalation, and his eyelids fluttered open. Sobbing openly, Mara laid her head on his chest, and slowly Luke's left hand rose to caress her red-gold hair.

"I'll live, my love," he said weakly.

Leia kneeled down to wrap her arms around her son and Mara and cry with them. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Han put his arm around Jaina's shoulders, then the two of them all but fell on top of Leia and Jacen. C-3PO and R2-D2 appeared at the hatch in time to see the Skywalkers and Solos in a weeping tangle.

The astromech made a fluting sound that was at once rejoicing and forlorn.

"I know, Artoo," C-3PO said quietly. "There are few occasions when I envy humans, but this is certainly one of them."

PART FOUR.

THE NEW ORDER.

FORTY-THREE.

Two meters above the ground, the military speeder twisted through the ruins of the sacred precinct, closing on operational headquarters at the northern edge of what had been-only two years earlier-the Legislative District. Admiral Kre'fey perched on the back of the rear seat, his snow-white fur rippling in the wind and his short command cloak snapping behind him like a flag.

To either side of him sat his Bothan aides. A human lieutenant had the repulsor-craft's controls, and beside him was a Twi'lek gunner, her hands on the trigger mechanism of a front-mounted repeating blaster. A torrential rain had just ended, and the winding paths the Yuuzhan Vong called streets were running with water. The speeder shot past columns of drenched infantry soldiers with mud caked like clay to their boots or bare legs.

If nothing else, the rain had washed some of the cinder and yorik coral grit from the air. Kre'fey had never evinced a great fondness for Coruscant, but it was only fitting that he tour the prize that had cost the Alliance so many lives. Estimates of battle casualties put the number of dead at close to five million, with twice that number of wounded.

More than three hundred capital ships had been destroyed, along with some eleven thousand starfighters. The death toll for the entire war was almost incalculable, though the figure most often quoted was 365 trillion. Now that Sien Sovv had designated Generals Farlander and Bel Iblis as occupation commanders, Kre'fey antic.i.p.ated that he would be shuttling back to Ralroost before nightfall.

With the shattered Yuuzhan Vong armada still arrayed two million kilometers away, Alliance battle groups remained anch.o.r.ed above Coruscant. When it had finally come, the cease-fire had had less to do with loss of discipline or coordination among the enemy than something closer to loss of hope-to a palpable sense of desperation and gloom.

In the aftermath of Shimrra's death, hundreds of vessels had self-destructed or hurled themselves against Alliance ships as living missiles. Other vessels had deserted, jumping to hypers.p.a.ce for star systems yet unknown. With hundreds of functional dovin basals continuing to deploy shielding singularities, Alliance landing craft and shuttles were being forced to adhere to strict descent corridors.

Even so, the sky above the sacred precinct was filled with relief and patrol ships, and more were coming down the well every hour. Orphan Coruscanti of diverse species lined the boggy byways and stood dozens-deep at makeshift medical stations, supply depots, and ident.i.ty verification centers. As Kre'fey's convoy of speeders made their way south from Westport, humanoids and aliens would turn to welcome "the liberator of Coruscant" with waves, cheers, and sloppy salutes.

Squads of commandos were on foot patrol in all quarters, performing structure-to-structure searches and controlling looting by Coruscanti and Yuuzhan Vong alike. Heretics who had joined the resistance were acting as interpreters and wranglers of creatures capable of ferreting out spies and imposters wearing ooglith masquers. Enemy weapons were heaped at each corner, awaiting cremation by aged AT-AT walkers and flamethrowers.

YVH droids rolled and crawled like tunnel rats through warrens exposed by ma.s.sive demolition and excavation machines. Elsewhere, teams of specialists were busy erecting temporary communications facilities to uplink with satellites already in orbit. Galactic Alliance flags had been raised at what was left of the truncated Citadel, on the yorik coral dome that capped the Well of the World Brain, and atop other captured landmarks, but fierce fighting persisted in some districts that were without villip communication and had yet to learn of Shimrra's death.

To complicate matters, the sacred precinct had been part.i.tioned into more than a dozen occupation zones, each overseen by a different species. Everyone was working toward the common goal of pacification, but because of the vast amounts of technology that lay buried under the thick vegetation, some claim-staking was inevitable. Tinged with sadness and misgiving, Kre'fey's gold-flecked eyes took everything in as the speeder rounded the mounds of debris and whizzed across the temporary bridges that spanned Coruscant's abysmal canyons.

This is the prize we're going to present to the Alliance members as a sign that life can now begin to return to normal? The strangest sight he had seen-stranger than the groves of alien trees, the ngdins sopping spilled blood from the streets, the AT-ATs standing shoulder to shoulder with six-legged Yuuzhan Vong beasts-was Grand Admiral Gilad Pellaeon and six of his Imperial officers touring the area where the Imperial Palace had once stood.

Onetime enemies, now unequivocal allies.

Thousands of prisoners were being held at what the Yuuzhan Vong had called the Place of Bones, but thousands more had escaped into the wilderness the planet had become. On the other side of Coruscant, entire battalions were dug in. The commanders of those units were said to have vowed that they would fight to the last, and Kre'fey saw no reason to doubt them. Questions and concerns tormented him. What was to be done with the heretics and the Shamed Ones; the noncombatants and the children; the World Brain, the roving beasts, and the other biots?

Several chief commanders were already advocating that Coruscant be defoliated entirely. Others wanted to preserve some of the planet's new look. And still others wished to see the former galactic capital transformed into a kind of memorial, joining the ranks of Ithor, Barab I, New Plympto, and other worlds.

So despite the cheers and welcoming waves, Kre'fey didn't feel like a liberator, much less a hero-at least not yet. The Bothan declaration of ar'krai-total war-meant just that, and his species was going to expect him to take the lead in pushing for extermination of the Yuuzhan Vong.

But the Alliance's chief commanders were hardly in accord on that matter. And now that a cease-fire seemed to be in effect, the politicians were eager to wrest control of the situation from the military. Kre'fey had long thought of Chief of State Cal Omas as an honest and honorable human.

But as well meaning as Omas was, he didn't always see reason. It scarcely helped that his very influential Advisory Council included six Jedi, a Caamasi, and a Wookiee. With everyone weighing in, it could take months or even years to reach a consensus regarding a final solution to the long war... The skimmer came to a rest in front of Alliance headquarters-an example of Old Republic-cla.s.sic architecture that had been partly released from its mantle of vegetation by lasers and missiles; trees were still rooted in the roof and vines dangled over the ornate columns and shattered window openings. Kre'fey strode briskly past logistics officers and communications specialists, a.n.a.lysts and slicers, protocol and mouse droids.

Ultimately his aides escorted him into a debris-filled room that was being readied for General Farlander. A holoprojector occupied the center of the cleared s.p.a.ce, and in the blue cone emanating from the table stood half-sized holograms of Sien Sovv and Cal Omas. For much of the battle for Coruscant, elected officials had been on the move, in and out of hypers.p.a.ce. But for the past four days, Omas and the others had taken refuge on Contruum.

"Congratulations, Admiral Kre'fey," Omas said. "Thanks to you we have reclaimed our capital."

"Such as it is," Kre'fey said.

Sovv made a sound of agreement, then said: "Nevertheless, your efforts are appreciated by one and all. What is the situation there, Traest?"

"We're on the verge of turning a hopeless situation into an impossible one."

"Any change in the disposition of the enemy vessels?"

"None."

"Any overtures by Nas Choka?" Kre'fey forced an exhale.

"Much of the fight has been bled from the s.p.a.ceborne warriors, but we've received no word from Nas Choka. He recalled the dregs of his Muscave and Zonama Sekot flotillas, but has neither advanced on Coruscant nor withdrawn."

"What do you suppose they're waiting for, Traest?"

"They've never suffered a defeat-let alone had to deal with the sudden death of their Supreme Overlord. Normally there would have been a pool of candidates, one of whom would have been chosen by the priests and shapers to accede to the throne. The elite would have been guided by signs and portents, and any potential successor would have to have demonstrated certain abilities. But it's all moot, because Shimrra apparently saw to it that no one was standing in the royal wings. With Shimrra and High Prefect Drathul dead, Nas Choka is the highest-ranking elite. But in fact he wields no more real power than High Priest Jakan and Master Shaper Qelah Kwaad, both of whom we have in custody. A scramble for power had broken out among some of the lesser prefects and consuls, but it's unlikely that any of them will be officially recognized as an heir apparent. What's more, the heretics, along with many of the Shamed Ones, seem to be looking to us for rescue, protection, even redemption of some sort."

Sovv took a moment to absorb Kre'fey's remarks.

"Should Nas Choka break the cease-fire and advance, are our fleets in a position to prevail?"

"Probably," Kre'fey said, "though at considerable cost."

"Do you wish to press an attack?" Omas asked carefully.

Kre'fey shook his head.

"Not at this point. Until this morning we had no means of communicating with Nas Choka. But we've finally been able to persuade the Supreme Commander of the enemy home fleet to act as our liaison with the warmaster, commencing with villip transmissions."

"Would a full surrender be too much to hope for, Admiral?" Omas asked.

Kre'fey touched his face in a gesture of uncertainty.

"As I say, sir, the Yuuzhan Vong have no protocols for surrender.

They're expecting us to behave as they would under similar circ.u.mstances, by executing most of them and enslaving the rest."

Omas frowned.

"All these years of fighting and they still don't understand us."

He paused, then said, "Admiral, you face the daunting task of convincing your commanders that there is nothing to be gained by exterminating the Yuuzhan Vong."

Kre'fey compressed his lips.

"Sir, after the barbarity the enemy has visited on us for five years, many local commanders won't be willing to put aside vengeance for compa.s.sion. But perhaps some will, and in time others may follow. By the same token, it may prove impossible to convince the Yuuzhan Vong on occupied worlds to capitulate without a fight. Word of Shimrra's death is being relayed by villip to planets throughout the invasion corridor. In several star systems the Yuuzhan Vong are already decamping. But we have our work cut out for us, regardless."

"Zonama Sekot survived the battle?" Sovv said.

Kre'fey snorted.

"I would say 'triumphed.' Though I failed to realize it at the time, the entire battle for Coruscant turned on that planet. If for whatever reason the Yuuzhan Vong hadn't been so intent on destroying it... Well, let it suffice to say that we might not be having this conversation."

"We've heard rumors," Omas said, "that there was a second Supreme Overlord-a power behind the throne, as it were."

Kre'fey nodded.

"I've heard those same rumors. But they have yet to be corroborated by anyone."

"There's also talk about a vessel contaminated with Alpha Red."

"That happens to be fact, sir. The vessel was one that escaped from Caluula. The Yuuzhan Vong attempted but failed to deploy the bioweapon against Zonama Sekot. Allegedly it has been tractorbeamed into deep s.p.a.ce. We have ships searching for it, if only to establish whether the toxin remains virulent."

"Stay on that, Admiral," Omas said.