Reunion: Force Heretic III

by Sean Williams

  “See those columns?” Leia said, pointing at the display. “They’re legs. And as for the eyes …” She watched carefully as the sensors scanned the ceiling.

  Han chuckled before she could finish what she’d been about to say. “Portholes, right?”

  “The relay base?” Droma sounded as though he could hardly believe his eyes—or his luck.

  “It was here all along,” Han said, cutting power to the repulsors and letting the Falcon settle to the bottom.

  “Perhaps not.” Leia watched as a slender wire snaked out of the gloom and attached itself to the hull of the battered freighter. “Don’t go giving your Solo luck any medals just yet.”

  “This is Commander Ashpidar of Esfandia Long-Range Communications Base,” came an emotionless, female voice from the comm. Leia identified its speaker as a Gotal, which seemed appropriate. The bi-horned, energy-sensitive beings would perfectly suit a gloomy place like Esfandia. “I’m sorry we took so long getting here. Word travels slowly among the Cold Ones.”

  “You know who we are?” Leia asked, making sure to reply the same way Ashpidar’s communications arrived—along the wire. The Yuuzhan Vong search parties were too close to risk any sort of broadcast.

  “We know you came to help us, and that’s all that matters. We were sheltering in some nesting plains several dozen kilometers from here when word arrived. The tunnels connecting the plains are cramped but easy enough to negotiate. We came as soon as we could.”

  “How many are there under your command?”

  “Fifteen,” Ashpidar replied. “We lost two when the bombardment began. They were servicing one of the detectors when the Yuuzhan Vong destroyed it. The rest of us are in here, though—safe for the moment.”

  Leia hoped that remained the situation. Taking in the Falcon had been a calculated risk with the Yuuzhan Vong searching so fervently above. She would hate to be responsible for any more lives lost.

  She quickly identified herself, Han, and Droma, and put a name to the ship. Then she explained what they were doing there, and who they’d brought with them to defend the base.

  “Imperials?” the Gotal said, surprised. “They’re the last people I expected to see you working with.”

  “Times change,” Han said. “But listen, we’re going to need to work out what we’re going to do next.”

  “I will organize a docking umbilical to enable us to meet and discuss this in person.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Leia said. “We’ll have to find a way to keep you safe until the Yuuzhan Vong leave.”

  “We’re safe enough right where we are,” Ashpidar said tonelessly. “Unless we break comm silence or expose ourselves, we could hide here indefinitely.”

  “Assuming their tactics don’t change, of course.”

  “Speaking of which,” Droma said, waving for silence. “Listen.”

  Leia and Han did so, but the only sound to be heard was that of the air scrubbers recycling air through the cockpit.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Han said.

  The Ryn nodded, his tail sweeping the floor behind him. “The bombardment has stopped. And that can only mean one thing.”

  “They’ve given up?” Han said.

  Droma frowned. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines that they’re coming down for a closer look.”

  Leia’s stomach sank. She liked the sound of her husband’s suggestion better, but she knew Droma was right.

  “Commander, you’d better get that umbilical across fast,” she said. “I think we’re going to be having company real soon.”

  Luke and Mara stayed up with the Ferroans as they attempted to locate the kidnappers. Airships came and went throughout the night, moving across the stormy sky like ghostly clouds. A vast root system covered the entire planet, Luke learned, linking boras to boras, tampasi to tampasi in a vast organic network. Communications traveled along the network with representatives of far-flung sections of the globe getting involved in the discussion of the abduction. Some had suggestions to make; others just called to express their fear and uncertainty at the thought that the Magister might be in any danger.

  Darak and Rowel assured them all that everything would work out in the end. Their voices were calm, but Luke knew that they were more worried than they were prepared to admit.

  That worry only increased as hints began to emerge from the boras network, reports of missing people and notes offering the first hints into the minds of the kidnappers. A sketch of a conspiracy formed, one that had acted exceedingly quickly to take advantage of the Jedi Knights’ arrival. Almost too quickly, Luke thought …

  “Any idea what this Senshi might want?” Mara asked.

  Rowel shook his head. “None, I’m afraid.”

  “I know of Senshi,” Darak said. “He comes from one of the settlements farther north. He has a plantation up there where he grows rogir-bolns—the white fruit whose pulp you were served earlier. He’s known for his talks on the Crossings and what it was like. He’s also very vocal about his ideal of a perfect and pure Zonama—which involves the exclusion of any outsiders.”

  “Does he have any history of active dissent?” Luke asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Darak said. “But he does have a lot of supporters. He’d certainly have the resources and contacts to put such a plan into motion.”

  “Is it possible he’s taking the hostages to his plantation?” Mara asked.

  “No.” Darak was firm on this. “The plantation is in the opposite direction from the one we know they took. We have people waiting there, in case they’ve doubled back, but I don’t expect them to find anything.”

  Luke sighed tiredly. The occasional wave of reassurance came from Jacen, but his nephew’s presence in the Force was still weak and indistinct. Nevertheless, that he was getting anything at all was a good sign, and for that he was thankful.

  After a seemingly endless night, a greenish dawn finally began to filter through the treetops. The rain eased slightly, and some of the forest’s fauna emerged from hiding. Gleaming birds swooped through the long branches, while lithe, long-limbed climbers emerged from shelters in the nooks of tree trunks to collect and munch on fronds and flowers. Sinuous tentacles swayed around the bases of the massive boras, almost as though licking at the mobile fungi that moved around the trunks in search of sunlight.

  Everywhere Luke looked, he saw life stirring. Resources moved up the food chain as one creature ate another, then back down via waste and decay. There was a dynamic joyousness to the scene that put some of his concerns in perspective. No matter what happened to Jacen, Saba, and Danni, or even Jabitha, life here would continue to go on, much as it had before.

  Captain Yage called from the Widowmaker as Zonama’s terminator rolled westward around the planet, bringing dawn wherever it touched.

  “Everything’s quiet up here,” she said. “I’m maintaining the orbit we’ve been given, not deviating a centimeter. I’ve sent probes across the system, but there’s no sign of the Yuuzhan Vong.”

  “Any word from Mon Calamari?”

  “Not a peep. Either they’re ignoring our hails or someone’s cut communications between here and there.”

  “I’ll give you one guess who that someone might be,” Mara said.

  “Have the Chiss reported any concerted troop movements on the border of the Unknown Regions?” Luke asked.

  “Not on their side,” she said. “But if someone’s taken out the relay bases between here and home, they wouldn’t need to come that far.”

  “Well, here’s hoping someone else is doing something about it,” Mara said. “I’d hate us to have good news and no one to tell it to.”

  Luke clicked his comlink and called Tekli. The Jedi healer was awake and had little to report. Jade Shadow was still held fast by the planet’s vegetation, but nothing had made a move on her so far, which Luke was thankful to hear. It seemed that the policy of nonaggression was having exactly the response that he and Jacen had hoped f
or. Sekot clearly wasn’t about to do anything unless they attacked first …

  As the light of day strengthened, it became apparent that the kidnappers weren’t about to be found in a hurry. Even with the storm easing, they were still no closer to finding Jabitha or Jacen, Saba, and Danni.

  After nibbling at slices of fruit that had been served in bowls for breakfast, Hegerty stood up to stretch. The doctor looked weary and haggard after the long and troubled night. Luke had suggested she try to get some rest on a couple of occasions, but she had said there was no way she could sleep—not with the others still missing and the kidnappers still at large. The doctor was no fighter, and the attempt on her life the night before had left her understandably rattled.

  “Are you okay, Soron?”

  The doctor nodded. “Just thinking.”

  “What about?”

  She stepped back up to the group around the fire. “Well, Senshi has to have kidnapped the Magister for a reason, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, it seems to me that, if it wasn’t to harm her or ask for a ransom, then it could have only been for one reason.”

  “Which is?”

  “He wants to talk to her.” She nodded thoughtfully for a moment. “Maybe she didn’t want to give Senshi the implied approval that would bring before now. Maybe she did listen, but ignored him. But since all of our attempts to locate his group have so far failed, she may now have no other choice.”

  “You sound like that would be a bad thing,” Luke said.

  “That depends entirely on what he’s got to say, I guess.” Hegerty rubbed the bump on her head left by the attempted kidnapping. “And on how convincing he can be …”

  Pellaeon stood on the bridge of Right to Rule, savoring the silence but in no way relaxed by it. The withdrawal of the Yuuzhan Vong to a geosynchronous orbit high above the western hemisphere of Esfandia was fortunately timed, allowing exhausted Imperial pilots to return to their base ships and restock. But it was only a temporary reprieve, prompted by Jag Fel’s superb disruption of the northern flank. Commander Vorrik still had the superior force and could wield it whenever he wished. Once he had regrouped, Pellaeon had no doubt that he would do just that. For now, though, a tense but stable stalemate persisted.

  The surface of Esfandia was safe from heavy bombardment, at least. With the chaos of battle behind them, it was much easier for both sides to detect and intercept anyone trying to reach the surface. That meant, effectively, that it was off limits to both sides, and that whoever was currently down there was safe for the time being. And stuck there.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Pellaeon’s aide, standing patiently to attention behind him. “I have the information you requested.”

  He didn’t know how long she’d been there. It could have been minutes; he’d been so caught up in his thoughts. “Go on,” he said without turning.

  “Close analysis of telemetry reveals at least two surface landings during the battle,” she said. “One was almost certainly Millennium Falcon.”

  “I should have known that’s where they’d go. Right into the thick of it, as usual.” He nodded, hiding his relief at the news. “And the other?”

  “A yorik-trema landing craft. The Seventy-eighth destroyed two other such craft also attempting to land, but lost this one during the fighting. It was assumed to have burned up on entry. We now suspect otherwise.”

  He faced the aide. “Do we know where it put down?”

  “We have an approximate region, one hundred kilometers across. But it is possible that it has since moved under the cover of the atmosphere.”

  “So we’ve lost it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And Millennium Falcon?”

  “The same. We weren’t actively looking for either, sir, otherwise—”

  “I suggest we start looking for them immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What about that concentrated bombardment we saw? Could that be related?”

  “That is possible, sir. It’s equally possible that the Yuuzhan Vong detected some sign of the relay base in the region.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I guess the main thing is that we’ve stopped them firing on it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good work.” He looked the aide over briefly, and saw deep lines of exhaustion on the woman’s face. “And now I’d like you to excuse yourself from the bridge and get some rest.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’ll summon you when things heat up again. Of that I can assure you.”

  “But—”

  “That’s an order. I need my crew fit and alert, first and foremost. That applies to everyone. See to it that all crew are rotated so that they receive both rest and nourishment. It might be some time before we have another breather like this.”

  She saluted, but the formality didn’t hide the gratitude in her eyes.

  When she was gone, he turned his attention to the officer nearest to him.

  “Get me Captain Mayn of Pride of Selonia,” he ordered. “Right away, sir.”

  Seconds later, her hologram was visible before him.

  “Grand Admiral, how may I help?”

  “We’ve noted the presence of the Millennium Falcon on the surface of Esfandia. What is the nature of her mission there?”

  The woman hesitated, as though warring with herself whether or not to answer his question.

  He sighed tiredly. He didn’t have time for suspicions. “Captain, may I remind you that we are on the same side?”

  Military training took over, then, and she visibly stiffened at his tone. “They are attempting to assist the crew of the relay base. An opportunity arose for them to break the blockade, and they took it.”

  “Have you heard from them since?”

  “There was a garbled transmission from the region most recently targeted by the Yuuzhan Vong, but it was jammed. We suspect it was from the Millennium Falcon, advising us of their intentions, but the content of the message, and its source, is unknown.”

  He nodded, wondering again just how far he should trust the Galactic Alliance officers he had been pressed into dealing with. If there was something else going on, something Leia Organa Solo wanted kept secret even though it might jeopardize the lives of his officers and crews, would this Captain Mayn tell him? Her initial reluctance in answering his question made him doubtful.

  “Commander Vorrik has sent a landing party after them,” he said. “We believe they’re both looking for the same thing, possibly in the area most recently under fire. Do you have any plans for a recovery operation?”

  “None at the moment,” she admitted. “But no doubt we’ll put something into effect once—” She hesitated minutely, then concluded, “Once the situation here is stabilized.”

  “Is it possible to advise me in advance of any such operation being put into effect?”

  “We will advise you of our intentions,” she said evenly.

  He wondered if she shared his suspicions. Did she question whether he could be trusted? Was she afraid that he would attempt to stop them from saving the Solos?

  “Excellent,” he said. “We might even offer our assistance in that venture, should the opportunity arise.”

  Mayn nodded, and the hologram faded out. He longed to rest his feet, to take the strain of standing off his healing back muscles, but he had one more job to do before he could think of retiring.

  “See if you can raise Commander Vorrik,” he said. A muted rustling swept through the bridge at the request, and the comm officer bent seriously to the task. They hadn’t directly communicated with the enemy since chasing them from Imperial Space, and each time they had it turned out to be quite a show.

  Pellaeon forced himself to relax, affecting a look of casual amusement. He didn’t know how well the Yuuzhan Vong had learned to appreciate human expressions, but he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to unsettle his opponent.

  A snarling, scarred visage appeared on the bridge
’s main screen. Visual communications with the Yuuzhan Vong were primitive, reflecting the fundamentally different technologies applied by each culture, but there was no mistaking that face. Vorrik had had his skin peeled back from his cheeks, exposing ribbed muscle tissue and pulsating veins. His scalp had been similarly flayed, leaving thin, jagged strips of hair where the scalping hadn’t been completed. Tattoos blackened what skin was left, lending the commander a truly horrific appearance.

  “I foul my senses every second I endure your likeness, infidel,” came the ragged, hate-filled voice. “Be quick, so I can erase your sight from my eyes.”

  “This is just a social call,” Pellaeon said, smiling in response to the commander’s insults. “I was wondering how Kur-hashan was faring?”

  “You dare mock me with your trivial—”

  “Mock the great commander? I wouldn’t dare.” Pellaeon couldn’t hide his amusement. “I leave that to your superiors, who send you off on a fool’s errand while they bask in the glory of the Core.”

  The roar of rage he received in response was gratifying. Vorrik was easily rattled. He was about to launch another string of invective at the Grand Admiral when Pellaeon spoke over the top of him.

  “I thought it was time to discuss the situation,” he said, loudly enough to be heard. “We have something of a standoff in place at the moment, Vorrik. I trust some thoughts on how to break it would have crossed that flat-browed mind of yours?”

  Vorrik looked like his flayed head was about to explode. “It will break when we crush your puny fleet!” he roared. “When we squash you like bugs beneath our feet! Then I will break you personally—bone by bone, nerve by nerve, until you are nothing but slime.”

  “Am I to take it, then, that negotiating a withdrawal is not an option?”

  “Withdrawing is not the Yuuzhan Vong way.”

  “That’s odd, because I seem to recall you withdrawing at Borosk.” Pellaeon paused long enough to allow the commander to think of a response, but not enough time to actually utter it. “And here I was thinking that we were finally managing to breed some sense into your barbaric species. Now I see we still have some way to go.”