The laser bolts expended themselves uselessly against nothingness. The
shields were still intact.
"Commodore, maybe the thrustship that's docked there is protecting
it."
"No ship that size produces a shield envelope that large," Brand
argued. "How did we take out the other ship?"
"Battle analysis says that Vanguard and Black
Flight hit that Fat Man with seven CM-nines and ten
CM-fives in the seconds before the first egg cracked.
That must have pushed the shields close to their limit."
"Close to their limit," Brand repeated, then stabbed a finger at the
plot table, pointing at the thrust ship attached to the shipyard.
"What's the standard radius of an Imperial particle shield?"
"Two hundred meters."
"What's the diameter of a Fat Man?"
"Two hundred forty meters."
"So the one that's docked--it's not fully enclosed by the yard's
shields."
"So what? It has its own shields. Which are sure to be back up by
now, even if it did have them down for unloading."
"Exactly. Which means that there should be an interference zone
between the two shield boundaries," said Brand. "If we can wedge
something in there--" "Then the shields will concentrate and focus the
blast, multiplying the effective yield."
"Can a K-wing targeting computer find the interference zone?"
Still trading blows with the lead thrustship, Indomitable shook and
groaned around them.
"No," said the tac officer, shaking his head. "But the E-wings ought
to be able to light it up for them."
Brand nodded. "Signal Red Flight. Tell them what we need."
Tuketu found it eerily disconcerting to be climbing toward such a huge
target and not be receiving any defensive fire. The thrustship docked
at the shipyard was completely and inexplicably passive to their
approach.
"Tactical," said Tuketu. "Has this Fat Man mixed it up at all yet?"
"Negative, Red One. We have not seen any activity."
"Ignoring us so far, too, Tac." He closed the link and 'called back to
Skids, "Maybe it's just a freighter. Or a dormitory."
"Doesn't matter to me," said Skids. "You get us there, I'll dent it up
the same no matter what it is."
They were not to go completely unmolested--that was too much to
expect.
Five Yevethan fighters screamed in from the starboard, sending one
E-wing spinning down toward the planet on a plume of smoke and drawing
two others away in pursuit. Tuketu increased both his speed and the
rate of his evasive maneuvers, challenging his escort to keep up with
him.
"Who is that over there, Cover Four?"
"They call me Dogo, sir."
"Well, Dogo, they tell me that somewhere about a hundred meters wide of
that Fat Man there's a seam between two shields. You paint it up so I
can see it, and Skids here will do his best to rip it open."
"Will do, sir."
The E-wing jumped ahead and shortly after began firing its laser
cannon at the invisible wall ahead, neatly sweeping his aim back and
forth across its face.
"There it is," called Dogo.
"I've got it--clear out," Tuketu said at the same moment, looking at
the line revealed by the E-wing's laser fire. "Looks pretty tight,
Skids. Hang on to the egg--see if you can get a CM-five in there."
"I don't need any flapping target practice," Skids grumbled, but
complied. "Ready to fire."
"Clear to fire."
"Missile away."
Running up the big third engine, Tuketu began a dizzying pullout. "Red
Two, what do you see?"
"Sorry, Red One--your bird exploded at the shield boundary. Repeat,
did not get in. Let me have a run at it."
"Negative," Tuketu said, wheeling the bomber around for another pass.
"There's something I want to try--" There was a sudden crackle of
static, then Red Two came back on, his voice suddenly tight with
excitement.
"Tuke, that lead Fat Man's coming back this way--Cover Eight just got
toasted."
"Run for cover," Tuketu said. "Take my escort--I've got the target
zeroed. Keep the yard between you and the Fat Man. If I don't get in
this time, I want you and Flick to put your eggs right on the seam,
one-two.
Got it?"
"Got it. What are you up to?"
"Just get clear and be ready to scamper." Tuketu switched off the
combat comm. "Skids?"
"Here as always."
"I want to take her in and park right on that seam, zero velocity, so
you can line it up from ten meters away. If it goes in, I'll get us
clear--their own shields will protect us long enough."
"You think so." yard. "This thing's full of Star Destroyers, Skids.
It's got to go, Can you make the shot? It's up to you."
"Yeah, I can make the shot," he said. "Let's do it."
"What in the devil is he up to?" Brand demanded.
"He didn't drop his egg on the first pass, and now he's just sitting
there."
"I don't know--his combat comm's down," said the tactical officer. "It
almost looks like he's trying to put himself right in the interference
zone."
Brand looked away from the plot table and out at the shipyard just in
time to see it enveloped in an enormous explosion that ripped the
thrustship free and sent the yard into a slow, tumbling roll.
Swallowing hard, he ordered the mains directed at the mortally wounded
structure and watched as they tore through what was left, turning the
jumble of vessels inside into a spreading cloud of burned and twisted
debris.
While the dissection continued, the damaged thrustship slowly fell
planetward in a graceful death dive. The lead thrustship followed it
part of the way down, then climbed out and away under full thrust,
leaving half a dozen of its fighters scattered behind it, abandoned.
Brand turned away and leaned heavily on the plot table with both hands,
as though he needed support for shaky legs.
"Now we know what it takes to beat them," he whispered. "Begin
recovery operations."
Three thousand kilometers above the plane of the star system, the
thrustship Tholos slowed to a stop and turned end for end.
During the climb out from the third planet, a full load of gravity
bombs had been racked in the central drop chute, and the main batteries
had been shuttled along their internal tracks until all eight were
located in
the ship's upper hemisphere. From there, they could be directed at a
single target during the attack dive, Hold nothing back when you go to
kill!"
"Ko nakaza!" cried Par Drann, his fighting crests flushed and
swollen.
"Soko darama! for the honor of the viceroy, the Blessed, the All.
Now, Proctor--there is our target. Speed! Before the vermin escape
us--" Nil Spaar gently caressed the mara-nas hanging in alcove five.
In only three days it had more than doubled in size, and the surface
had taken on a rich iridescent sheen that foretold a superior
nesting.
Wrapping his tongue around his finger, he
drew in the complex scent and
taste of the oily secretions.
Nitakka, he thought. A strong young male to Carry my blood.
There was a noise behind him, and the viceroy turned to see Tal Fraan
standing in the doorway of the cell. Behind him, Nil Spaar caught a
blurred glimpse of the keeper as he hurried away, his errand
completed.
"Darama," Tal Fraan said, taking one step into the alcove and kneeling,
his head lowered, his neck bared.
"My proctor cogent," said Nil Spaar. With a half stride forward, he
reached out and lightly laid his hand on the back of Tal Fraan's head,
keeping him in the posture of submission. "Tell me--when you warranted
your knowledge of the vermin with your blood, was it sincere, or simply
what was expected?"
"Most sincere, darama."
"Good," said Nil Spaar, tightening his grip on the younger male's
skull. His fighting crests were a purplish red and swelling quickly.
"Now let us be certain of my memory. Did you promise me that the
prospect of an alliance between myself and these Imperial vermin would
fill Leia with such fear that she would not dare make war against the
Blessed? This was a shadow they feared and would not dare enter--did
you say that?"
"Darama, what has happened?"
Nil Spaar pushed Tal Fraan's head down sharply, until his neck was bent
to the breaking point. He made a fist with his other hand, and the
long, sharp dewclaw slid out of its retractile casing. "The vermin
destroyed Black Nine, at Prildaz."
The resistance went out of Tal Fraan's body. "I give you my blood as a
gift to your child," he murmured.
"You gave me this gift once before," said Nil Spaar.
"But this time I will take it." He struck with such sudden violence
that Tal Fraan's head was severed completely, coming free in his hand
while the body dropped to the floor. Discarding the head with casual
contempt, Nil Spaar stepped over the body and left the alcove as the
keeper came running.
"The sacrifice was unclean," Nil Spaar said. "None of his blood is to
go to my children. Make meal of his carcass."
"Yes, Viceroy."
Taking no notice of the blood spattered on his armor and vestments, Nil
Spaar strode through the corridors with long strides and a vengeful
countenance, driving those he encountered to flee before him. When he
reached his quarters, he shouted for Eri Palle.
"Yes, darama," said the attache, coming at a run.
One glance was enough to tell him the viceroy's state, and Eri Palle
took care to abase himself well out of the viceroy's reach. "How can I
serve you?"
Send for Vor Duull. Tell Vor Duull to bring his boxes," said Nil
Spaar, plunging himself into the deep, comforting folds of his own
nesting. "And then bring Han Solo to me--I have a message to send to
the vermin queen."
For once, there was no craft or subtlety in a transmission from Nil
Spaarand for once, there was absolute silence in the conference room.
Leia watched it with her arms wrapped tight against her body, one hand
covering her mouth. When it was over, she left the room, her face
white, her eyes dead.
Ackbar was little better off, despite having looked
away through the worst of it. Alole was weeping silently, fat tears
painting her round cheeks. Behn-Kihl-Nahm wore a scowl of ultimate
contempt.
Alone in his office, Drayson wore a mask of cold rage.
They had seen Nil Spaar savagely beating a bound Han for nearly twenty
minutes--not just beating him, but kicking and hurling him about an
empty compartment in an animal rage. The beating went on until Han was
bleeding freely from his mouth, his nose, from gashes on his face and
arms, his chest, his calf. The beating went on until Han's blood was
smeared on the bulkheads, the deck, and halfway up Nil Spaar's powerful
forearms. The beating went on until Han could no longer stand when the
viceroy dragged him to his feet, not even with a wall to support him.
For long seconds, Nil Spaar had stood in a half crouch over Han's
crumpled form. The viceroy was partly turned away from the lens, and
they could not see his face. But they could see his thorax plates rise
and fall, and one hand flexing menacingly as a great claw appeared,
vanished, appeared, and vanished again.
Then Nil Spaar had straightened and turned to face them. They saw that
he was bleeding as well--tiny rivulets running from the two enlarged
scarlet crests at his temples. Staring into the holocam, he had wiped
at the blood with the back of one hand, then sucked his hand clean.
Finally, he had made his message explicit, though with unusual economy
of words--the only words spoken throughout the entire horror, delivered
in a dark, angry growl: "Leave Koornacht now."
Chapter 8
Akanah was the first to discover the Yevethan starship orbiting
J't'p'tan.
As soon as Mud Sloth dropped out of hyperspace on the fringe of the
Doornik 628 system, Akanah slipped away to the service compartment.
There she entered a deep meditation, submerging herself in the Current
and searching for the presence of the Circle.
Staying at the skiff's controls, Luke first performed a sweep with Mud
Sloth's feeble sensors, then closed his eyes and entered his own
reverie, connecting to his new surroundings and searching for local
disturbances in the Force.
Neither he nor the skiff found anything of note, but when Akanah
rejoined him, she told him of her discovery.
"How do you know? Can you actually see this ship?" he asked
skeptically.
"It is difficult to explain. Let me try to show you--" "In a moment,"
Luke said. "Explain first."
"Is this important now? What does it matter how I know? I know."
"It matters if you expect us to base what we do on what you've told
me," he said.
The unspoken tensions dating back to Utharis were fully awakened by
then. "Have you become a skeptic, now?" she asked, her expression
more hurt than angry.
"You no longer trust my gifts?"
"Akanah, I know there's more than one source of knowledge and more than
one kind of truth--" "Is it that the Jedi are unwilling to share the
Force, then?" she asked. "Are you uncomfortable knowing I have a path
to knowledge that doesn't require you, that isn't yet open to you? At
the same time that you ask me to teach you, you seem to need to doubt,
even to discredit--" Luke was shaking his head vigorously. "No, no,
that's wrong. The Force is a river from which many can drink, and the
training of the Jedi is not the only cup that can catch it," he said.
"If we didn't know that before we met the witches of Dathomir, we
surely know it now."
"That is something, at least."
"But the truth lives side by side with lies, and errors, and
self-deceptions--with hopeful dreams, and baseless fears, and mistaken
memories," Luke added gently. "And we have to try to know one from the
other. All I ask is that you help me understand the source of your
"Is the damage done at Utharis still with us?" she asked sadly. "I
had hoped to receive your trust again."
"There's very little I trust in this life, Akanah--myself included."
"Too true," she agreed. "Very well--I will try to explain." Akanah
frowned as she searched for the right words. "Where the Current
touches self-awareness, there is a tiny ripple--as when you sense a
presence with the Force. The metaphor is more different than the
means."
"But I can't feel anything here--nothing more than the energy of the
ecosystems on the fourth and fifth planets," Luke said. "Nothing of
consciousness--noth-ing of will."
"It is not consciousness or will that matters--it is the profound
essence of being, nothing more,, she said.
"I can perceive the crew just as you would perceive a handful of sand I
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