Star Wars The New Jedi Order - Vector Prime - Book 1

by R. A. Salvatore

  "But -" Anakin paused and looked to his uncle and brother for support, but while the two weren't smiling any longer, neither did they have anything to offer against Han's assessment.

  With a sigh that sounded more like a snarl, Anakin waved his hands in frustration and stormed back up the landing ramp.

  "Teenagers!" Han cried.

  Now Luke did smile again, for he could envision a young Han Solo in exactly the same situation, hearing the exasperated cry of "Teenagers!" from every adult around him. There were many differences between Anakin and Han, with the son seeming far more introspective. But concerning many matters, like flying the Falcon , apparently, Anakin Solo had his father's unbridled spirit. In cases like this, it almost scared Luke how much Anakin was like Han, in appearance and in temperament.

  Chewie greeted the returning Anakin with a disapproving growl.

  "We'll fix it!" the boy replied with a sigh. "It's just a stupid ship."

  Even before those last words had left his mouth, Anakin found himself up in the air, his head uncomfortably close to the myriad of wires in the Falcon 's main power grid. The powerful Wookiee held him there easily, with just one hand, while his other hand reached down to Anakin's belt and pulled free his lightsaber.

  "What -" Anakin started to ask, but then his surprise multiplied many times over and he yelled out, "Hey!" as Chewie brought the lightsaber into his mouth and made a move as if he meant to bite the thing.

  Aside from the risk of blowing his head off if he released the energy within that hilt, Chewie's threats to scratch or damage Anakin's precious instrument unsettled the boy profoundly. He yelled at Chewie again and reached up for the lightsaber, but the Wookiee elbowed his hand away and scolded him profoundly.

  "Okay, I get it," Anakin replied, head down, for the Wookiee's comparisons between Anakin's feelings for the lightsaber and Chewie's own for the Falcon certainly hit the point. "I get it," he said again.

  Chewie howled, hardly seeming satisfied.

  "We'll fix it!" an exasperated Anakin assured him.

  For a few moments, Luke continued to envision the problems a younger Han might have caused to those adults around him. Han cocked his head at Luke, apparently noting his expression, and smirked. "How'd your meeting go?"

  "Wonderful," Luke answered sarcastically. "How else could any meeting chaired by Borsk Fey'lya go?"

  "They've got their problems," Han said. "Borsk and his friends are finding that managing a galaxy isn't as easy as they believed."

  "So they find scapegoats," Luke said.

  "Such as ... ," Han prompted.

  "A problem along the Outer Rim," Luke explained. "Someone's banging blasters with smugglers. Jedi, they believe, and that's not to the liking of Fyor Rodan or Niuk Niuv."

  "Probably costing them a fortune," Han reasoned with a wry grin.

  "Whatever the reason, the council's not happy about it."

  "Which means they're laying it on you," Han said. "Well, what are we to do about it?" Han's tone made it pretty clear that he didn't think highly of intervening.

  "Didn't you tell me that Lando was out there, mining asteroids or something?" Luke asked, and Han's expression soured.

  "He's out there," Han replied. "Pair of planets called Dubrillion and Destrillion, near an asteroid system he modestly named Lando's Folly."

  "I need a thread to hang on," Luke explained. "Maybe a little insider information."

  "That'd be Lando," Han agreed. He didn't sound particularly enamored of the idea.

  Luke understood the man's apparent reticence and recognized it for pure bluster. Han and Lando were friends - dear friends - but there always seemed to be a reluctance from both to publicly admit it. "Maybe," Luke said. "Lando always seems to know what's going on, and if I find out the inside story, I might be able to use it to persuade a couple of councilors to see things my way."

  Han started to nod, then blinked and stared at Luke curiously. "You've been hanging around me too long," he remarked. "What are you smiling at?" he asked Jacen, who was beaming at Luke's side.

  "The belt," Jacen said. "Jaina's going to be pretty happy about this."

  "The belt? "Luke asked.

  "Running the belt," Jacen explained, but Luke's expression remained curious.

  "Lando's got an operation going on the side," Han explained. "Calls it running the belt . It's a game - and there's probably more than a little betting going on around it - where pilots test their skills by zipping around the asteroids, seeing how long they can stay in the place before getting bumped away."

  "Blasted away, you mean," Luke said. "Into little pieces. Doesn't sound like a promising career."

  "Only one pilot's been hurt," Jacen interjected, drawing a surprised look from Luke. "Jaina told me," he explained. "Lando modified some TIE fighters with walls of repulsor shields so that they can take a hit, or two, or ten, and just bounce away."

  "It's supposed to be one of the highlights of the galaxy," Han replied. "But I'm betting there's more to it than just a game."

  Luke nodded and didn't have to ask for clarification. He had heard a couple of reports of smugglers diving into asteroid belts to evade pursuit. Perhaps Lando's game was providing some interesting training.

  "You want to go and visit him?" Han asked. "He's not on especially good terms with the New Republic these days."

  "Is he ever?"

  "He's likely running a few side businesses the New Republic would see as less than legitimate," Han added.

  "Isn't he always?"

  That brought a chuckle from Han, but just for a moment. "What about Mara?" he asked seriously. "They'll be back soon, and from what I hear, things didn't go very well."

  That hit home to Luke, a reminder, as everything seemed to be a reminder, that his beloved wife was not well. The best doctors in the galaxy were shaking their heads helplessly, able to do nothing but watch as something inside Mara continually altered her molecular structure. No medicine, no therapy, had come close to treating the rare disease, and only her own internal strength, her use of the Force, was somewhat keeping it in check. Those others who had contracted the disease had not been so fortunate.

  So what would a trek across the galaxy do to her? Luke had to wonder. Would it be too much? Would it put her in a dangerous position?

  "Aunt Mara just went to Rhommamool," Jacen reminded. "That's three days' travel, and she didn't find any vacation once she got there."

  "True enough," Han said. "Maybe a run to the Outer Rim, far away from the council, will do her, and my wife, good."

  Luke shrugged and nodded, and so it seemed settled.

  They heard R2-D2 beeping wildly then, Chewie wailed, and the number-seven repulsorlift coil fired to life.

  And then there came another explosion from inside the Falcon , and the lift coil sputtered out.

  Anakin came storming down the landing ramp. "That's it!" he grumbled. "I'm done."

  Before Han could even begin to yell at him, though, a huge, hairy paw landed on the boy's shoulder and yanked him back inside, and Anakin's feeble attempt at any protest was blasted away by a tremendous Wookiee roar.

  Han blew a sigh and tossed his wrench over his shoulder, to clang on the metal floor.

  "Teenagers," Luke remarked, tossing a wink at Jacen.

  Chapter 5 The War Coordinator Danni Quee pored over the charts again and again, checking coordinates and vectors. She was in the control room. Most of the scientists were spending the whole of their waking hours and some of their sleeping ones in there, now that they had something interesting to watch. Nine of the fifteen were in the room now.

  "In the Helska system," Garth Breise said to her. "The fourth planet."

  Danni nodded; it did indeed seem as if their incoming asteroid, racing along faster than any natural object they had ever witnessed, would soon enough sail into the Helska system. There, given its present course and speed - and there seemed to be no reason to expect either to change - it would collide with the fourth planet.r />
  "What do we know of that planet?" Danni asked.

  Garth Breise shrugged. "There isn't much in the data banks about the Helska system. There's not an easily inhabitable planet among the seven, and no one's taken the time or trouble to build one up. None of them even have names - just Helska 1 to 7."

  "Point the orbiting scopes toward that fourth planet then," Danni instructed. "Let's find out what it's made of."

  "Ice," Yomin Carr said from Pod 7, the one now showing the clearest tracking of the asteroid.

  The other scientists in the room turned to regard him.

  "I did some research, and some personal viewing," Yomin Carr explained. "Once we determined that the asteroid would make a close pass, or a hit, I took some shots from our orbiting scope."

  "So it's just a frozen ball of rock?" Garth asked.

  "Or a ball of frozen water," Yomin Carr replied. "I could detect nothing more substantial than ice and vapor. No sign of minerals at all." Of course, Yomin Carr knew much more about that planet, the fourth in the Helska system. He had been there; he had studied it. He had left the villip beacons out by the galactic rim to steer the incoming brethren, the glory of the Praetorite Vong, to it.

  "And you're sure it's going to hit it?" Tee-ubo asked.

  "Looks like it," Danni replied.

  "How big's that planet?" Tee-ubo asked.

  "Not big," Yomin Carr replied. "A few thousand kilometers in diameter."

  "If it's nothing but ice, then that asteroid will disintegrate it," Bensin Tomri remarked, and a grin widened on his face. All of them had been excited when they discovered that the incoming asteroid was on a path for a collision, for none had ever witnessed that rare event. Now, if Yomin Carr was right about the composition of the planet, the show might be amazing indeed!

  "Let's try to get a better reading on that planet," Danni suggested. "And I think it's time we send out the word so that ExGal and the New Republic can get some scientists out there."

  "And fast," Bensin Tomri added. "They've only got a few days before -" He paused and smiled widely, then threw his hands out wide as he finished suddenly. "- boom!"

  Tee-ubo went right to the transmitter in the raised section of the chamber and clicked open the normal channel for accessing the galactic net and contacting ExGal.

  It didn't work.

  "Have the dovin basals tighten their lock on the planet," the huge and powerful Prefect Da'Gara told his crew - his crew on the asteroid, which wasn't an asteroid at all, but rather a huge, ten-kilometer chunk of yorik coral, a living worldship.

  "You wish more speed, Prefect?" another of the tattooed warriors asked.

  Da'Gara, not used to being questioned, looked at him curiously.

  "Belek tiu," the other said, snapping his fists against opposite shoulders, the reply and signal for both apology and permission to continue.

  Da'Gara nodded. This one, Tu Shoolb, had proven resourceful and cunning in their trip across the galaxies.

  "A change in speed might alert all those watching," Tu Shoolb explained. "For natural bodies would not so obviously accelerate."

  "Those watching?" Da'Gara questioned. "Do you doubt that Yomin Carr has performed?"

  "No, Prefect," Tu Shoolb said, and he signaled his respect again and reiterated, "Belek tiu."

  Da'Gara motioned him off on his task to the dovin basals, the organisms that propelled the worldship. Possessed of the ability to lock on to specific gravity fields, to the exclusion of all others, even to gravity fields millions of kilometers away, the adult, three-meter spherical dovin basals worked like perpetual thrusters. And the more they focused their line, the greater the pull. Now they were locked on a planet, the one the inhabitants of this galaxy called Helska 4, as per the instructions of Yomin Carr's villip beacon, which had been left out at Vector Prime, the breach point of the galactic rim, with specific directions.

  Da'Gara almost reconsidered his order to Tu Shoolb then, for the instructions of Yomin Carr had called for a steady run to the fourth planet, but the prefect was anxious, and if Carr had done his job correctly, no one would be the wiser. Of course, the acceleration might force some last-minute course corrections to properly intercept the planet, but so be it. For the prefect wanted to be on with it. He had been back to the main holding compartment to communicate with the great yammosk, the war coordinator; and the gigantic creature, its bulbous head glowing red with eagerness, its many tentacles - some thick and others filament-thin but a hundred kilometers long - coiled and twitching, had clearly revealed to him its desire to begin.

  Da'Gara was a prefect, no minor title, and this was his ship to command, but the greater mission was the province of the war coordinator, a creature, a tool, genetically engineered over centuries to serve his people in just this conquering capacity.

  The yammosk was eager.

  So was Da'Gara.

  "A tail," one of the scientists at ExGal-4 announced, and he stood up and slapped the edge of the console. "I knew it!"

  Danni, Bensin, and several others rushed over to the Pod 7 viewer, nodding as they acknowledged the visible tail of the asteroid. "Not much of one," another remarked, but a trailing line of something was indeed visible.

  "A comet, then," Bensin Tomri mused, and several conversations erupted all at once, mostly concerning the apparent lack of heat beyond the galactic rim, for if there was indeed sunlike heat and energy out there, as many scientists had theorized, then no comet could have come through with any ice intact.

  Danni and Bensin exchanged sincere smiles. This had been a day of unexpected discoveries, always a delight to the scientific mind. First, they had noted that the streaking asteroid was significantly accelerating, though they hadn't yet determined whether that was due to some galactic rim rebound, or some gravitational force they had not yet discerned, and now they learned that it wasn't an asteroid at all, but a comet, trailing a small, but undeniable, tail.

  "Has Garth got that comm system fixed yet?" Danni asked.

  "He's working on it," Bensin Tomri replied. "Something chewed right through the cables, and he's got to build a connector big enough to sort them all."

  Across the room, Yomin Carr watched it all with amusement. That was no comet coming in, and no tail behind it. The trailing tendrils of the worldship were huge membranous creatures anchored at the end by piloted coralskippers, smaller, starfighter versions of yorik coral. At times of weak gravitational-pull fields, those membranes would be extended wide as cosmic sails, riding interstellar winds.

  Garth Breise entered the room then, lugging a large metal box. "Two days," he said to Danni.

  "Make it tomorrow," she answered. "We want to give them time to get on the spot."

  Garth sighed, but nodded and hustled away.

  Yomin Carr only smiled, knowing the futility of it all. Garth Breise would fix the cables, only to find that the system wouldn't work anyway. How long would it take them, the Yuuzhan Vong warrior wondered, to find out the next problem the subtly disconnected cables at the top of the tower?

  Yes, these foolish beings were in for many surprises over the next few days, and they'd never get the word out to their fellows, and then their planet would burn down around them.

  The sunset that night was thick with green and orange, a clear sign that Yomin Carr's little dweebits were working their deadly magic.

  Da'Gara sat in his multicolored compartment and felt the vibrations and the less-subtle movements about him. It was all in place now, for he had ordered the slowdown to intercept the fourth planet, the place he and the yammosk would make their base of operations.

  Out behind the worldship, dozens of single-piloted coralskippers fanned out, carrying with them the huge membranous sail. They inverted that sail into a semicircle, with the worldship at its apex; the dovin basals, at the commands of the helmsmen, released their grip on the planet's gravity and focused instead on opposing fields, slowing the huge, living vessel.

  The coralskippers brought it in, and it contacted
with the planet, not with the great explosion those watching from afar had expected, but with a dull splat, the membranes shielding and buffeting the impact like a gigantic mattress.

  Da'Gara, like the other five thousand Yuuzhan Vong aboard, moved to his locker and coaxed out a fleshy, membranous creature, a variation of the ooglith masquer called an ooglith cloaker. With help from the prefect, the creature rolled up over his legs and enveloped him, and then began the stinging ecstasy of the joining, its millions of connecting tendrils slipping into Da'Gara's pores. Unlike the masquer, the cloaker's facial mask was transparent, showing the glory of its host's disfigurements. After a short pause to fully experience the connection, Da'Gara scooped a soft star-shaped creature from the water tank beside him and held it up to his face, where it latched on. The prefect gagged a bit as the central tendril of the gnullith snaked down his throat, and he had to put a finger to either side of his nose to keep the pincers there from closing off his air supply.

  But then the connection was complete and the creature understood. Now it breathed from the water within Da'Gara's body, while he pulled in needed oxygen through his nose.

  The prefect made his way along the rough-walled corridors to the lowest level, where his many soldiers, and the great yammosk, waited.

  The yammosk led the way out of the worldship, its thicker tentacles spreading wide to get a solid grip on the icy surface. Then the creature exposed its huge central tooth and, with the force of an ion cannon, drove it down into the ice, battering repeatedly, digging down, down, and secreting a liquid from that single fang to further erode the crust.

  After nearly an hour, the tooth broke through, and the yammosk wasted no time in contorting its huge and boneless body, sliding down, down, into the watery world below.

  Da'Gara and his crew went next, fast down the long slide to slip under the water, where the gnullith they had latched upon their faces would do the breathing for them and the ooglith cloakers would protect them from the freezing temperatures.