by Greg Keyes
Star Wars
The New Jedi Order
Edge of Victory
II
Rebirth
by John Gregory Keys
Scan/OCR by Gilad
The author would like to thank the following people: The Flying Rat
Toli club, for support during a dark time.
Shelly Shapiro and Sue Rostoni for timely help, advice, and hard work
at every stage of the process. My fellow authors-Troy Denning, Jim Luceno,
Elaine Cunningham, and Mike Stackpole for helping me try and get things
right. Thanks also to Michael Kogge, Colette Russen, Kathleen O'Shea, Deanna
Hoak, Ben Harper, Leland Chee, Chris Cerasi, Enrique Guerrero, Eelia
Goldsmith Hendersheid, Helen Keier, and Dan Wallace. And again, to Kris
Boldis for his support. It's been a blast, everyone!
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Anakin Solo; Jedi Knight (male human)
Booster Terrik; captain, Errant Venture (male human)
Cilghal; Jedi healer (female Mon Calamari)
Corran Horn; Jedi Knight (male human)
Colonel Gavin Darklighter; Rogue Squadron (male human)
Han Solo; captain, Millennium Falcon (male human)
Jacen Solo; Jedi Knight (male human)
Jaina Solo; Jedi Knight (female human)
Kae Kwaad; master shaper (male Yuuzhan Vong)
Kam Solusar; Jedi Master (male human)
Kyp Durron; Jedi Master (male human)
Leia Organa Solo; former New Republic diplomat (female human)
Luke Skywalker; Jedi Master (male human)
Mara Jade Skywalker; Jedi Master (female human)
Nen Yim; shaper adept (female Yuuzhan Vong)
Nom Anor; executor (male Yuuzhan Vong)
Onimi; Supreme Overlord Shimrra's jester (male Yuuzhan Vong)
Qurang Lah; warleader (male Yuuzhan Vong)
Tahiri Veila; Jedi student (female human)
Talon Karrde; independent information broker (male human)
Traest Kre'fey; admiral (male Bothan)
Tsavong Lah; warmaster (male Yuuzhan Vong)
Vergere; familiar to the deceased Yuuzhan Vong priestess,
Elan (female Fosh)
PROLOGUE
Blood, drifting in starlight,
That was the first thing Jacen Solo saw when he opened his eyes. It had
beaded into what looked, in the dim, like polished black pearls reflecting
the ancient starlight filtering through the transparisteel a meter or so
away. He noted absently that the spheroids were all spinning in the same
direction.
He was spinning, too, very slowly, through the little nebula of blood.
Even in the negligible illumination he could tell he was only a few
centimeters from a wall.
From the ache in his leg and skull, he had a good idea where the blood
was coming from. It was cold, too, but the air seemed stuffy.
What was going on?
Outside the window, something large and irregular moved to block the
stars, and he remembered.
Tsavong Lah, warmaster of the Yuuzhan Vong, clicked the obsidian-sharp
talons of his new foot against the living coral of his command chamber floor
and considered it in the pale light of the myco luminescent walls.
He might have had the foot the cursed Jeedai took from him replaced
with a clone of his own, but that would have been not only dishonorable but
personally unsatisfying. That an infidel had taken something from him was
bad enough; to pretend that the wound had never happened was unthinkable.
But a hobbling warmaster would lose respect, especially if he had not
made the sacrifice himself.
The pain was fading, and feeling was coming into his new foot as the
nerves learned their way. The four armored digits of a vua'sa now made up
half his stride.
The choice was an homage to the most ancient traditions of his office.
The first warmaster created by Yun-Yuuzhan had not been a Yuuzhan Vong, but
a living weapon-beast he named vua'sa. A Yuuzhan Vong challenged the vua'sa
to single combat, triumphed, and took its place. Even now, Vua was a popular
name among the warrior caste.
Tsavong Lah had bade the shapers grow him a vua'sa. Though the creature
had been extinct since the ancestral home planet was lost, its pattern still
existed in the deeps of shaper memory-qahsa. They had made it; he had fought
it and triumphed, despite having to fight on one foot. Now Tsavong Lah knew
the gods still deemed him worthy of his station.
And from the cooling corpse of the vua'sa, he had a new foot.
"Warmaster."
Tsavong recognized the voice of his aide, Selong Lian, but did not look
up from the examination of his prize.
"Speak."
"Someone petitions for words with you."
"Not my expected appointment?"
"No, Warmaster. It is the deception-sect priestess Ngaaluh."
Tsavong Lah growled in the back of his throat. Worshipers of Yun-Harla
had failed the Yuuzhan Vong of late. Still, the sect was powerful, and
Supreme Overlord Shimrra continued to favor the antics of those who
worshiped the Trickster goddess. And since Yun-Harla oversaw the elevation
of warriors and had possibly aided him in his fight with the vua'sa, he
perhaps owed the goddess a favor, as well.
"Let me hear her words," he said.
A moment later, the priestess entered. She was slender, her
back-sloping forehead narrower than most, the bluish sacs beneath her eyes
mere crescents. She wore a ceremonial robe of living tissue grown to
resemble a flayed skin.
"Warmaster," she said, crossing her arms in salute. "I am greatly
honored."
"Your message," he snapped impatiently. "I have other business waiting.
Harrar sent you?" "Yes, Warmaster." "Speak, then." "The priestess Elan, who
died to further the conquest of
the infidels-"
"Who failed her task," Tsavong Lah reminded.
"Just so, Warmaster. She failed, but died nevertheless in the cause of
the glorious Yuuzhan Vong. The priestess Elan had a familiar, a sentient
creature named Vergere."
"I am aware of that. Did it not die with its mistress?"
"No, Warmaster. That is what I have come to tell you. It managed to
escape the infidels and make its way back to us."
"Did it."
"Yes, Warmaster. She has communicated to us much of interest concerning
the infidels, things she learned in their custody. Much more she knows and
will not tell except to you, Tsavong Lah."
"You suspect an infidel trick? An attempt to assassinate
me, perhaps?"
"We do not entirely trust her, Warmaster, but determined to bring you
her words so you might decide how to treat
her."
Tsavong Lah inclined his heavily scarred features. "It is good you did
so. She must be interrogated and examined by the haar vhinic, of course.
Afterward, have her brought to my ship, but keep her far from me. Tell her I
will need further proof of both her intelligence and intentions before she
may stand before me,"
> "It will be done, Warmaster."
He gave the priestess the sign of dismissal, and she immediately
departed. Good. A priestess who knew her station.
His aide immediately took her place at the red-flanged receiving
portal. "Qurang Lah has arrived, Warmaster," he said. "And the executor, Nom
Anor."
"They will see me, now," Tsavong Lah pronounced.
Qurang Lah was his creche-brother, a less elevated version of himself.
His face was cut in deep hatch marks, and
the gash of Domain Lah, while not as deep as the war-master's
ear-to-ear cut, was still a clear marker of his lineage.
"Belek tiu, Warmaster." Qurang Lah saluted with crossed arms, as did
the much slighter executor by his side. "Command me."
Tsavong Lah nodded at his creche-brother, but fixed his gaze on Nom
Anor. The executor's one real eye and the venomous plaeryin bol that
occupied his other socket stared unblinking back at him.
"Executor," Tsavong Lah rumbled. "I have taken your latest suggestions
under advisement. You are certain they are ripe for conquest?"
"The hinges of their fortress are weakened, Warmaster," Nom Anor
replied. "I have seen to it personally. The battle will be a quick one, the
victory easily secured."
"I have heard this from you before," the warmaster said. He turned his
attention to the warrior. "Qurang Lah. You have been briefed in the matter.
Have you anything to say?"
Qurang Lah revealed his sharpened teeth. "Conquest is always
desirable," he said. "However, this seems a foolish time to move. The
infidels tremble before us; they fear to counterattack; they dare dream our
bloody path ended with Duro and that we might be satisfied to live in the
same galaxy with abomination-using vermin. This is to our advantage; the
shipwomb produces their doom, but it must be given time. At this moment, our
fleet is thinly scattered, more thinly than the infidels know. One misstep
now,'before the shipwomb again swells our fleet, could be costly indeed."
"There will be no cost," Nom Anor asserted. "And the moment to strike
is now. If we wait longer, the Jeedai will have more time to act."
"The Jeedai." Tsavong Lah snarled. "Tell me, Nom Anor. With all of your
infidel contacts and all your self-proclaimed expertise in manipulating
them, why have you been unable to bring me the one Jeedai I desire above all
others-Jacen Solo?"
Nom Anor did not flinch. "That is a most difficult task, as you know,
Warmaster," he admitted. "Certain elements
among the Jeedai and their allies have gone rogue. They no longer
answer to the senate, or any other body where we have allies. That is my
point; when you told the infidels that we would cease our conquest if the
Jeedai were delivered up to us, it was a brilliant strategy. It gave us time
to build our force and secure our territories. It gave us many Jeedai. But
Jacen is kin to Skywalker, the master of them all. He is the son of Leia
Organa Solo and Han Solo, both worthy opponents who have managed to vanish
for the time being. I have strategies that will uncover them; even now, a
plan unfolds regarding Skywalker and his mate Mara and that will bring the
others running, Jacen included."
"And this place you wish to feel the talons of our might? This involves
the Jeedai?"
"It does not, Warmaster. But it will throw their senate into desperate
confusion. It will give us the leverage we need to end the Jeedai threat
forever. As of now, the government of the New Republic still refuses to make
it policy to outlaw the Jeedai. In one stroke I can change that, as well as
build us a new fortress overlooking the Core. But the time is now; if we
wait, we will lose our opportunity."
"Nom Anor has counseled us ill before," Qurang Lah
said.
"This is too true," the warmaster returned. "But it chafes me not to
strike, to pretend quiescence so long. The number of Jeedai the weak-kneed
infidels have given us has declined lately. We were humiliated at Yavin
Four. There must be atonement, and Yun-Yuuzhan craves the scent of blood."
"If you wish it, Warmaster," Qurang Lah said, "I shall lead my fleet. I
never shrink from battle when my duty
calls."
"Hurr," Tsavong Lah murmured, considering. "Nom Anor, you will
implement your plan. Qurang Lah will command the Yuuzhan Vong forces, and
you will advise him how to proceed. If your advice is again flawed, there
will be a more serious reckoning. If it is good, as you assure me it will
be, you will atone for your recent mistakes. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Warmaster. I will not fail."
"See you do not. Qurang Lah, have you anything else to say?"
"I have not, Warmaster. My duty is clear now." He snapped the salute.
"Belek tiu. The infidels will fall before us. Their ships shall burn like
falling stars. As I speak it, it is already done."
PART I
THRESHOLD
ONE
"You've had worse ideas, Luke," Mara Jade Skywalker reluctantly
admitted, nodding her head back so the sunlight fell on her face and her
deep red-gold tresses trailed behind her. Posed that way, eyes closed,
framed against the blue line of the sea, her beauty closed Luke's throat for
a moment.
Mara's green eyes opened, and she looked at him with a sort of wistful
fondness before arching a cynical brow.
"Getting all fatherly on me again?"
"No," he said softly. "Just thinking how ridiculously lucky I am."
"Hey. I'm the one with the hormone swings. You aren't trying to one-up
me, are you?" But she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Come on," she
said. "Let's walk a bit more."
"You sure you're up to it?"
"What, you want to carry me? Of course I'm up to it. I'm pregnant, not
hamstrung. You think it would be better for our kid if I spent all day lying
around sucking on oorp?"
"I just thought you wanted to relax."
"Absolutely. And this is relaxing. Us, all alone, on a beautiful
island. Well, sort of an island. Come on."
The beach was warm beneath Luke's bare feet. He had been reluctant to
agree to going shoeless, but Mara had insisted that's what one did on a
beach. He found, to his surprise, that it reminded him pleasantly of his
boyhood on Tatooine. Back then, in the relative cool of early evening- one
of those rare periods when both blazing suns were nearly set-sometimes he
would take his shoes off and feel
the still-warm sand between his toes. Not when Uncle Owen was looking,
of course, because the old man would launch into an explanation of what
shoes were for in the first place, about the valuable moisture Luke was
losing though his soles.
For an instant, he could almost hear his uncle's voice and smell Aunt
Beru's giju stew. He had an urge to put his shoes back on.
Owen and Beru Larses had been the first personal casualties in Luke
Skywalker's battle against the Empire. He wondered if they had known why
they died.
He missed them. Anakin Skywalker may have been his father, but the
Larses had been his parents
.
"I wonder how Han and Leia are doing?" Mara wondered aloud,
interrupting his reverie.
"I'm sure they're fine. They've only been gone a few days."
"I wonder if Jacen should have gone with them?" "Why not? He's proven
himself capable often enough. And they're his parents. Besides, with half
the galaxy after him, it's better he stay on the move."
"Right. I only meant it makes things worse for Jaina. It's hard on her,
doing nothing, knowing her brother is out fighting the fight."
"I know. But Rogue Squadron will probably call her up pretty soon."
"Sure," Mara replied. "Sure they will." She sounded far from convinced.
"You don't think so?" Luke asked.
"No. I think they would like to, but her Jedi training makes her too
much of a political liability right now."
"When did the Rogues ever care about politics? Has someone said this to
you?"
"Not in so many words, but I hear things, and I'm trained to listen to
the words behind the words. I hope I'm wrong, for Jama's sake."
Her feelings brushed Luke in the Force, running a troubled harmony to
her assertion.
"Mara," Luke said, "my love, while I'll believe you when you say
picking up parasites on a strange beach is relaxing-"
"Nonsense. This sand is as sterile as an isolation lab. It's perfectly
safe to walk barefoot. And you like the feel of it."
"If you say so. But I forbid any more talk about politics, Jedi, the
war, the Yuuzhan Vong, anything like that. We're out here for you to relax,
to forget all of that for a day or so. Just a day."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're the one who thinks the whole
universe will collapse unless you're there to keep it spinning."
"I'm not pregnant."
"Say something like that again, and I'll make you wish you were," she
said, a bit sharply. "And by the way, if we do this again, it's your turn."
"We'll play sabacc for it," Luke responded, trying to keep a straight
face but failing. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, hard.
They continued along the strand, past a rambling stand of crawling
slii, all knotted roots and giant gauzy leaves. Waves were beginning to lap
on the beach, as they hadn't earlier, which meant they were on the bow side
of the "island."
