Reunion: Force Heretic III

by Sean Williams

  The New Jedi Order faces triumph and disaster as the Galactic Alliance battles back from the edge of defeat …

  Star Wars: The New Jedi Order: Force Heretic III: Reunion is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A Del Rey® Book

  Published by The Random House Publishing Group

  Copyright © 2003 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or ™ where indicated.

  All rights reserved. Used under authorization.

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Del Rey Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.

  Del Rey is a regstered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

  www.starwars.com

  www.delreybooks.com

  eISBN: 978-0-307-79562-5

  v3.1

  For Sam and Katelin

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  Acknowledgments

  Dramatis Personae

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Part One - Infiltration

  Part Two - Confrontation

  Part Three - Abduction

  Part Four - Revelation

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by this Author

  Introduction to the Star Wars Expanded Universe

  Excerpt from Star Wars: The New Jedi Order: The Final Prophecy

  Introduction to the Old Republic Era

  Introduction to the Rise of the Empire Era

  Introduction to the Rebellion Era

  Introduction to the New Republic Era

  Introduction to the New Jedi Order Era

  Introduction to the Legacy Era

  Star Wars Novels Timeline

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to the all-important support team that made this journey so much more interesting and enjoyable than we dared expect: Kirsty Brooks, Ginjer Buchanan, Chris Cerasi, Leland Chee, Richard Curtis, Nydia Dix, Sam Dix, Nick Hess, Christopher McElroy, the Mount Lawley Mafia, Ryan Pope, Michael Potts, the SA Writers’ Center, Kim Selling, Sue Rostoni, Stephanie Smith, and Walter Jon Williams. We would particularly like to single out Greg Keyes, Jim Luceno, and Shelly Shapiro for helping (with apparently boundless patience) tie so many threads together. From a continent that sometimes feels far, far away indeed, ta muchly.

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  Arien Yage; captain, Widowmaker (female human)

  B’shith Vorrik; commander (male Yuuzhan Vong)

  C-3PO; protocol droid

  Danni Quee; scientist (female human)

  Droma; former acquaintance of Han Solo (male Ryn)

  Gilad Pellaeon; Imperial Grand Admiral (male human)

  Han Solo; captain, Millennium Falcon (male human)

  Jacen Solo; Jedi Knight (male human)

  Jagged Fel; Chiss squadron (male human)

  Jaina Solo; Jedi Knight, Twin Suns Squadron (female human)

  Jabitha; Magister of Zonama Sekot (female Ferroan)

  Kunra; former warrior (male Yuuzhan Vong)

  Leia Organa Solo; former New Republic diplomat (female human)

  Luke Skywalker; Jedi Master (male human)

  Mara Jade Skywalker; Jedi Master (female human)

  Ngaaluh; priestess of the deception sect (female Yuuzhan Vong)

  Nom Anor; former executor (male Yuuzhan Vong)

  R2-D2; astromech droid

  Saba Sebatyne; Jedi Knight (female Barabel)

  Shimrra; Supreme Overlord (male Yuuzhan Vong)

  Shoon-mi Esh; Shamed One (male Yuuzhan Vong)

  Soron Hegerty; Imperial biologist (female human)

  Tahiri Veila; Jedi Knight (female human)

  Todra Mayn; captain, Pride of Selonia (female human)

  Tekli; Jedi healer (female Chadra-Fan)

  “Beware, Jedi Master, lest through carelessness and inattention you loose on the galaxy a monster …”

  —BODO BAAS, Jedi Master

  PROLOGUE

  Neither moved; neither spoke. They stared unflinchingly into each other’s eyes.

  Surrounding her, hidden by shadows, Tahiri could sense an alien landscape. She could tell from its pull that it was big, yet at the same time not large enough to contain the two of them. She wanted to look down and see it, to understand this strange and disturbing ambiguity, but she couldn’t afford to do so, not even for a second—for a second was all it would take to lose her purchase on this precarious balance of power. One blink of an eye and she could be dispelled into the darkness altogether, never to return—and she had no intention of ever allowing that to happen. This world was hers, and she would remain like this for as long as it took to ensure that it stayed hers. It was just a matter of time. All she had to do was be patient, be strong.

  Soon, she told herself. It will all be over soon. Just another moment …

  But that moment seemed as long as the blackness around her was deep. It was a moment that stretched back to the explosion that had first given birth to the universe, and forward to the time when eternity would turn all the suns cold. It didn’t matter, though. She would endure a thousand such moments to ensure that the world below did not fall to Riina.

  Yes, that was it. Riina: the other girl’s name. She wanted to destroy Tahiri and take the world from her. Tahiri could feel the girl’s intentions as though they were her own.

  I will not succumb, she thought determinedly. I am Tahiri Veila; I am a Jedi Knight!

  And I am Riina of Domain Kwaad, the girl said in response. I shall not succumb, either.

  With that, Tahiri’s mirror image finally moved: her hand went to her side and removed the lightsaber from her belt.

  A lightsaber, Tahiri thought, not an amphistaff. Riina wanted everything she had, and she fought with everything Tahiri had, too.

  The light from the blade revealed something of their surroundings. To one side there was a dry and rocky ground that stretched out forever, and to the other there was a chasm of terrible blackness, an emptiness that pulled at Tahiri, drew her to the edge of the precipice upon which she stood. She could tell from Riina’s fearful gaze that this same emptiness was tugging at her, also. One wrong move and either of them could fall into an embrace of eternal nothingness, leaving the darkened world to the other.

  The notion renewed her resolve, and with a snap and a hiss that echoed throughout the landscape she activated her own lightsaber.

  The two advanced slowly toward one another until the two bubbles of light from their lightsabers touched and they were standing face to face. Then, in unison, the two blades rose into the air and came down sharply at the other’s head. They connected in midair with a deadly crackle, sending sparks arcing into the darkness …

  PART ONE

  INFILTRATION

  Han Solo fought the urge to wipe a droplet of sweat from his brow, knowing that such a gesture would be seen as a sign of nervousness, and thus give the others a clue as to what he was holding.

  “What’s it to be, Solo?”

  Han went for a stall, his second in as many minutes. “Let me get this straight. It wasn’t enough that you guys got tired of using integers—or that you weren’t satisfied with just using real numbers, either. You had to start messing with imaginary and transreal numbers as well.”

  The larval-stage Ruurian bounty hunter’s face was locked in a sneer. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Why should there be a problem?”

&nbs
p; “Then get on with it!”

  One corner of Han’s mouth curled up into a half grin. His opponents were starting to lose their patience. That could work to his advantage.

  “So you’re saying that we can use any arithmetic operation we like. We can divide, subtract, multiply—”

  “I know what you’re doing,” growled a bad-tempered Givin, its skeletal jaw clicking impatiently against its upper “lip.” Given its species’ predilection for mathematics, Han imagined that it was the Givin who was responsible for the changed rules. “You can’t bluff us, Solo.”

  “Perhaps the great Han Solo has lost his edge.” The fourth player, Talien, a Yarkora with numerous gold rings dangling from each enormous nostril, uttered a contemptuous snort.

  Han glanced down at the chip-cards in his hand. “Or perhaps it’s just that my math is a little rusty.”

  He laid the cards on the table, resigning himself to winning the strangest game of sabacc he’d ever played. The three 3√23 chips that the last round had dealt him stared up at the ceiling in staves, flasks, and coins. His decision to ditch the idiot card and take a chance on fate had paid off.

  “Read ’em and weep,” Han said, leaning back into his chair. “Or whatever it is you guys do around here.”

  “A cubic sabacc?” The Ruurian’s red eyes glittered dangerously in the bar’s dim and smoky light as it glared at Han. “That’s not possible!”

  “It’s not impossible,” the Givin snarled. “Just extremely unlikely.”

  “Solo, if you’re taking us for a ride, I swear—” the Yarkora began.

  “Hey!” Han exclaimed, standing up and stabbing a finger at Talien’s enormous nose. “You scanned me on the way in. If I’d had a skifter on me, you’d’ve known about it.”

  The Givin’s bony mouthplates ground together in frustration. “Skifter or no skifter, Solo, I still say it’s safer to believe in human nature than the kind of luck you’re claiming.”

  “Come off it, Ren. You’re saying I cheated in a game I didn’t even know existed until I docked here a couple of days ago?” He snorted derisively. “You’re giving me a lot more credit than I deserve.”

  “That’s all the credit you’ll be getting,” the Ruurian muttered, reaching forward with one of its many arms to scoop up the chips.

  Han grabbed the junction between the alien’s two uppermost body parts and twisted sharply—not enough to do any damage, but certainly enough to make the Ruurian think twice. “You touch my winnings, and then you’ll see just how much of my edge I’ve lost.”

  Chairs scraped across the stony floor as the other two players backed away from the sabacc table. Shouts sounded in a dozen different tongues around the room. The Thorny Toe maintained a strict no-weapons policy, but that didn’t mean that fights couldn’t be lethal. And as far as the patrons of the Thorny Toe were concerned, the more violent the altercation, the better the entertainment value.

  “Overrated muck hauler!” the Ruurian grunted, wriggling its lengthy body in an attempt get free. Han struggled to hang on, while at the same time trying to keep the alien at arm’s length. Each of the Ruurian’s body segments possessed a set of limbs that clutched at him with hostile intent.

  “Who you calling overrated?” Han muttered, tightening his grip. Although low in mass, the alien could bend in places Han couldn’t, making it difficult to maintain the upper hand. The Ruurian hitched its back end under the table and managed to tip him off balance. As he went down, a dozen sharp-tipped digits swarmed up his legs and chest, looking for soft spots. Tiny, razor-sharp mandibles snapped at his nose. The audience cheered, goading the antagonists on.

  Just as he was beginning to think he’d taken on more than he could handle, two rough, three-fingered hands grabbed both him and the Ruurian, hauling them off the ground and separating them in midair.

  “Enough!”

  Han recognized the guttural accent of a Whiphid and instantly ceased trying to kick his way out of the creature’s grasp. He knew better than to fight a Whiphid. Their claw and tusks were as mean as their temperament.

  “He’s a cheat!” the Ruurian whined, snapping at Han with its nether mandibles.

  The Whiphid shook the alien so hard Han swore he heard its exoskeleton rattle. “This bar isn’t crooked!”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them,” Han said, offering a self-satisfied smirk. “I beat them fair and square!”

  The Whiphid dropped them both roughly to the floor, then pointed one of its claws accusingly at Han. “The boss wants to see you.”

  A flash of uncertainty cooled any joy he might have taken from the victory.

  “Not before I collect my winnings,” he said, climbing to his feet. He stepped resolutely to the table.

  “You have five standard seconds,” the bouncer said.

  Han needed only two. Using his shirt as a catchall, he scooped the credits off the table. The Ruurian looked on balefully, emitting a soft growl that only those in its immediate vicinity would have heard.

  “You know, Talien, folks like you give sabacc players a bad name.” Han couldn’t resist taking the opportunity to gloat as he packed his winnings safely in his pockets. “Back in my day—”

  “Spare us the glory speech.” Talien made no attempt to stop Han from walking off with the winnings, but glared at him menacingly. “Save it for your kids. Maybe they’ll be impressed by the once-great Han Solo.”

  “Why, you—” Unreasoning anger rose in him, but before he could react, the bouncer caught him by the back of his jacket and tugged him away.

  “Enough, I said!” The Whiphid lifted Han into the air again as though he were a child. Suspended, helpless, Han could only force his anger down and ignore the jeers of the other patrons as he was unceremoniously “escorted” from the bar.

  “You humans are always causing trouble,” the Whiphid grumbled once they’d passed through a door to the back of the Thorny Toe and Han had been lowered to the ground once more. “If I had a credit for every time I’ve bounced one of you out of here, I’d have made it back to Toola years ago.”

  “You see many strangers through here, then?” Han asked, straightening his jacket.

  The Whiphid looked at him suspiciously. “Why? You looking for someone?”

  “No; just curious.” He shut up, then, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than he already had.

  The alien took him up a flight of stairs and deposited him in an empty room containing little more than a padded green couch and a water dispenser. Han assumed it was an antechamber adjoining the bar owner’s office. He sat himself down on the couch and was startled when a voice issued into the room from unseen speakers.

  “Han Solo, eh?” The voice’s sex, species, and accent were heavily disguised, but the speaker seemed amused underneath the camouflage. “You’re a long way from home.”

  “Well, you know me,” Han bluffed. “Never been one to sit on my hands.”

  A strange noise issued from the hidden speakers. It might have been a laugh. “But you’ve always been one for gambling,” the voice returned, more soberly. “It’s good to see that nothing’s changed.”

  Han frowned at the familiarity. He desperately tried to think whom he had known in the past who might have ended up owning a bar on Onadax, one of the dingiest worlds the Minos Cluster had to offer, and whether he—or she—might hold a grudge against him.

  “You get your thrills where you can,” he said, stalling again.

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I may.”

  Han shrugged, giving in but feigning nonchalance all the same. “Fire away.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “No one sent me.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’m just passing through. Is that a crime in these parts?”

  “Where are you headed?”

  “Nelfrus, in the Elrood sector.”

  “You must be going the long way around, then.”

  “You can’t
be too careful these days. The Vong—”

  “Are everywhere,” the voice interrupted. “Yes, I know. But they’re not here.”

  “Which is why I thought I’d come this way.”

  After a slight pause, the voice continued: “Are you here alone?”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “Perhaps none. Millennium Falcon has been on Onadax two standard days, one day longer than a Galactic Alliance frigate that docked here yesterday. Am I to assume that there is no relation between this craft and your own?”

  “You can assume what you like,” Han said. “But that frigate doesn’t have anything to do with me. What did you say its name was?”

  “I didn’t. It’s Pride of Selonia.”

  He made a show of thinking about the name. “Sounds familiar. You think it might be someone looking for me?”

  “Or perhaps the other way around.”

  “I’m just here for the scenery,” Han lied. He jingled the credits in his pocket. “And whatever else I can pick up on the way.”

  At this, the faceless bar owner did laugh. Onadax was a sooty, inhospitable world, not dense enough to harbor metals of any value, poorly placed even with respect to other worlds in the sector, and too small and ancient to possess any noteworthy geography. Its only saving graces were its lack of a policing authority and a relaxed attitude toward documentation of all kinds.

  Just because the government turned a blind eye to who passed through, though, didn’t mean that the locals were stupid.

  “Okay,” Han said, scanning the blank walls and ceiling, wishing there were some reference point on which he could focus his attention. “Let’s stop playing games. You’re right. I am looking for someone. Maybe you can help me.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I’m asking nicely. Do you get many Ryn through here?”

  “No more than usual,” the voice said. “Lift up any dirty rock in the galaxy and you’ll find a family living under it. Your taste in friends must have gone downhill if that’s who you’re after.”