The Unifying Force (28 page)

Following the discussion in the cave, Sekot had said that it wanted to perform several short trial voyages to assess
whether the jump to lightspeed inadvertently engineered by Nom Anor had done lasting damage to the hyperspace cores and whatever planetary mechanisms Sekot employed to augment the powerful engines. Of greater concern was the very real possibility of encountering uncharted mass shadows along the route back to known space. Whether ship or planet, any traveler that entered hyperspace without taking a greater or lesser hyperlane risked catastrophe—and no analogs to the Perlemian Trade Route or the Hydian Way existed in the Unknown Regions. Worse, the entire territory was known to be rife with hyperspace anomalies, particularly along the Coreward frontier.

Luke and the other Jedi had to trust that Sekot knew what it was doing. So instead of dwelling on the prospects of being yanked from lightspeed by a gravity well of some sort, Luke had passed the days in the shelter grappling with Sekot’s revelations that the aboriginal Yuuzhan Vong had been
stripped
of the Force. Sekot had refused to elaborate; and since then Sekot—speaking through Jabitha—had said only that it was imperative that Zonama be returned to known space, despite the grave risks the planet would face during the Crossings and on arrival.

The revelation—Luke didn’t know what else to call it—had had a profound effect on Harrar, and on Luke, as well. Was it possible, Luke wondered, that the would-be Jedi who had originally settled on Zonama Sekot hadn’t taught Sekot about the Force but merely
reawakened
it?

A few steps away from Luke in the boras-enclosed clearing sat
Jade Shadow
. Designed for speed and stealth, the craft was sharply tapered forward and painted a uniform nonreflective gray. The hyperdrive rating was equal to that of the
Millennium Falcon
, and she had the added ability to be operated remotely by slave circuitry. The aft cabin space alone was large enough to accommodate an X-wing.

Even Sekot was impressed by the ship, and Luke suspected that it was Sekot that had kept
Jade Shadow
from being crushed by the several boras that had toppled during the recent storms, narrowly missing it. However, the ship was buried almost to her triangular cockpit in sand, leaves, and other forest detritus.

“Did she weather the jump all right?” Mara asked. Glow stick in hand, she emerged from the dark shadows of the giant trees and came alongside him to regard
Jade Shadow
.

“No visible damage.”

Mara tossed her hair over her right shoulder and gazed at the circle of brilliant stars overhead. “Any idea where we are?”

“According to Artoo, we might be somewhere in the Mid Rim.”

The droid cheeped.

Mara looked at R2-D2. “Is that good?”

“It’s a start.” Luke glanced at the path Mara had taken. “Where is everyone?”

“Jacen, Corran, and Danni are trying to convince the Ferroans that it’s safe to come out of hiding. The last I saw Tekli, Saba, and Tahiri, they were with Harrar, who keeps finding similarities between Yuuzhan Vong biots and what he sees here.” She approached
Jade Shadow
, then turned to Luke. “Do you think we’re close enough to contact Esfandia Station?”

“Only one way to find out.”

The ship had a cosmetic external hatch release, but the actual release was concealed inside the starboard bulkhead, and could be operated by the Force. Mara entered first, and called on the illuminators. As filthy as the ship was outside, the interior was undisturbed. Slipping into the forward chairs, she and Luke activated the ship’s HoloNet and subspace transceivers. At the same time, R2-D2 inserted his slender computer interface arm into an access port and rotated the dial to an appropriate setting.

“Esfandia Station, this is
Jade Shadow …
” Mara said, repeating the comm call several times.

The annunciator’s only response was static.

“At Klasse Ephemora we were even farther from Esfandia, and we still managed to reach the station,” Mara said, after continued attempts at contact.

R2-D2 buzzed in exasperation.

“He says he can’t find
any
functioning HoloNet transceivers,” Luke said.

“Try again,” Mara urged.

She and Luke pondered possible explanations while R2-D2 rotated the interface dial this way and that.

“Nothing,” Luke said, breaking their long silence.

Mara’s lightly freckled brow furrowed. “Could the Yuuzhan Vong have destroyed Esfandia?”

Luke leaned away from the console. “Corran said that something big had been planned for Bilbringi. But even if the Alliance failed to retake the shipyards there, that wouldn’t account for our not being able to contact any of the HoloNet relay stations.”

Mara shook her head back and forth. “Something terrible has happened.” She looked at him. “Could Cal Omas have given the okay to using Alpha Red?”

A Yuuzhan Vong-specific toxin, Alpha Red had been developed in secret by Alliance Intelligence, working in conjunction with Chiss scientists. But the only prototype sample of the bioweapon had been stolen by Vergere and transformed into something harmless.

“We’ve been gone long enough for Dif Scaur’s Intelligence bunch to have cooked up a whole new batch,” Mara added.

Luke shook his head. “Cal promised me that Alpha Red would be used only as a last resort.”

“Maybe it’s come down to that. And maybe the Yuuzhan Vong retaliated with a poison of their own.”

“Cal knows better. Evil can’t simply be stamped out. It’s as much a part of life as good is.”

Mara looked at him dubiously. “You’re thinking like a Jedi instead of an admiral or an elected official.” She blew out her breath. “All right. What’s your solution to ending this war?”

“I don’t know yet. I just know that Alpha Red isn’t the solution.”

Mara smiled at him and took his hand. “I happen to agree. But you are starting to sound a little like Vergere and Jacen.”

“Guilty as charged. But is that wrong?”

“Not in principle. Except that you’re probably more attuned to the Force than either of them.”

Luke made his lips a thin line. “I feel like I’m still in training for the trials. Every second of every day. It never ends, and I wouldn’t have it otherwise. My understanding of the
Force continues to grow. I know I’m a Jedi Master, but I may not feel like a
true
Master until my dying breath. Besides, Jacen, Jaina, Tahiri, Ben … They’re the future of the Jedi. Everything we do now must be for them—to ensure that they carry on what began a thousand generations ago.”

Luke took his eyes from Mara, and glanced around the cockpit.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, after a moment. “And I think it’s time we tried.”

He smiled faintly. “If you’d stayed in my thoughts a little longer, you’d know why we can’t leave.”

Mara looked disappointed. “You’re not going to tell me you’re worried about running us into a mass shadow. Because Artoo can plot a safe route—even if it takes us twenty microjumps to get back to known space.”

“That isn’t it.” Luke regarded her again. “Mara, I’m as concerned about Ben as you are. Something terrible
has
happened, but it’s momentary. We have to stay focused on the greater picture.”

Mara rose and paced away from the control console, crossing her arms when she swung back to Luke. “The future’s exactly what I’m thinking about.
Ben
’s future. You said yourself that everything we do should be for him and the other young Jedi.” She sat down again and took her husband’s hands in hers. “Luke, Ben was almost killed on Coruscant by that witch Viqi Shesh. If something should happen to us …”

Luke pictured their red-golden-haired infant. “By leaving, we could destroy everything we’ve accomplished here. And then we won’t be a help to anyone—Ben included.”

Mara studied him. “You’re basing this on personal experience—on some mistake you once made.”

“I am.”

“Luke, there are times when action is the best course.”

“Actions have consequences.”

“What are the consequences here? Jacen and Corran can stay behind. We can leave them
Jade Shadow
, if you want. We’ll ask Sekot to grow us a ship.”

“It’s Sekot I’m worried about.”

Mara stared at him. “Sekot?”

“Sekot might misinterpret our leaving as a lack of trust, and change its mind about returning to known space.”

“Then you can explain our reason for leaving.”

“Tell Sekot that we’re worried about our son, about our friends, about what’s happened to the HoloNet?” Luke paused, then asked: “What about Sekot’s concerns for the Ferroans, or for what might happen to Zonama when it becomes part of the war?”

Mara mulled it over for a moment.

Luke squeezed her hands affectionately. “Ben will be fine. I
saw
him fine.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed in a reluctant smile. “You saw him piloting a ship of completely unfamiliar design—like the ones grown here.”

Luke recalled the rest of his vision: Ben tracing lines in the sand; kneeling by a river, rubbing smooth round stones between his fingers and smiling; wrestling with a young Wookiee … Luke saw himself holding Ben while they observed glowing lines of traffic move through the sky of an unknown world—like Coruscant but not. And, yes: Ben at the helm of a starship of unique design …

Mara was watching him. “Assuming you weren’t gazing at Ben from some other plane of existence, you’re going to be around to witness all those things.”

“So will you.”

“Was I part of the vision?”

In fact, Luke hadn’t seen Mara—not at first.

“Luke, promise me something,” Mara said before he could speak. “If anything happens to me—”

He tried to shush her, but she pushed his hand away.

“No, I need to say this. Promise me that if anything happens, you’ll love Ben with all your heart, and you’ll make him the center of your world, as he is to me.”

Luke pulled her into his arms. “ ‘Hush, my love, the night is mild and slumber smiles on you …’ ”

“Promise me, Luke.”

“I will—if you’ll make me the same promise.”

She nodded against his chest. “Then no matter what, the future’s assured.”

Nas Choka pushed through the living membrane that sealed the command grotto from prying eyes. A trio of Supreme Commanders and their subalterns trailed in the warmaster’s angry wake.

“Our course is now set,” he announced to his own subalterns and tacticians. “Supreme Overlord Shimrra will abide no further delay. We are enjoined to launch the armada in three local days, when the auguries are favorable for victory.”

“Three days, Fearsome One,” the tactician said when Nas Choka had dropped cross-legged onto his yorik coral bench.

“The burden is mine,” Nas Choka replied abruptly. “Don’t add to it by echoing my words. Tender your report.”

The tactician inclined his head in a bow of respect. “Rumors teem like an infestation of sacworms. From all sectors comes word of heightened enemy activity. Ships masquerading as spice carriers leave Hutt space, but as often as not they are empty. The same holds true in Bothan space. There is increased traffic within the Hapan Cluster, with many ships inbound from Kashyyyk and from the more distant Remnant. Known operatives and agents consort clandestinely on Corellia and Bimmisaari. Courier ships of the Smugglers’ Alliance arrive and depart Contruum, with a few venturing as close to Yuuzhan’tar as Corulag.”

“Sheer impudence,” Nas Choka said. “But much like the diversionary raids at Gyndine and Duro that preceded the clash at Ebaq Nine.” He fell briefly silent, then said, “Proceed.”

“As instructed, our agents made no attempts to interfere or provide the slightest signs of suspicion.”

“And at Mon Calamari?”

“Almost half the fleet has departed. Many capital ships have returned to their home sectors. Others have been traveling in and out of darkspace. Still others have been deployed as substitutes for the transceiving devices our dovin basals engulfed.”

Nas Choka rose from the bench to regard what now amounted to an entire wall of blaze bug displays. “My long tenure in Hutt space was well spent,” he said after a long moment. “I was forced to acquaint myself with all make and manner of deception and duplicity. Fabrication comes as easily to the inhabitants of this galaxy as invention comes to our shapers. So I am wary of all these reports.”

He turned to his Supreme Commanders. “Sovv and Kre’fey grasp that our patrols and reconnaissance vessels are too widely dispersed to keep watch over every planetary sector. They attempt to overwhelm us with activity, in the hope of screening a few missions of genuine purpose.” His expression grew dour. “Our actions in sabotaging the HoloNet may come back to plague us. We no longer have the luxury of being able to eavesdrop on enemy communications. Yes, the courier ships require additional time to reach their destinations, but the messages they carry come and go only to those who need to be apprised of the content. Even now this war takes unexpected twists and turns.” His hooded eyes fell on the tactician. “What of the yammosks at Toong’l and Caluula?”

“Unperturbed, Fearsome One. Although …”

Nas Choka waited, then said: “Give voice to it!”

“Caluula’s surrender, Warmaster. Before the fall of the orbital station, the commander who led our assault was contacted by the governor of the planet. The governor promised that Caluula would yield to occupation, without need of an amphistaff being raised against it.”

“There is nothing unusual about that,” the warrior-seer interrupted. “Many local governments have opted—wisely, I think—to spare themselves devastation, in exchange for a pledge that we will be equitable about how many captives we take, and in how we pursue our timetable for worldshaping—including
the effacement of buildings, temples, and the obliteration of machines. The custom began as early as our defeat of the library world of Obroa-skai.”

“Yes, seer, but in the instance of Caluula, the governor made a special request. She asked for permission for scientists to visit, to observe some sort of natural spectacle peculiar to the planet. This, of course, would necessitate the temporary maintenance of the spaceport, for the landing of ships and scientific personnel.”