Rebel Dream: Enemy Lines I

by Aaron Allston

  “Fourth, and last, it’s a morale issue. Our people have just taken a tremendous kick in the teeth—the loss of Coruscant. We’re going to kick in return. If you run from neks, or Vong, they won’t respect you. They’ll chase you, drag you down, and kill you. Only if you stand your ground do you have a chance of survival. If we dig in our heels here and slap the Yuuzhan Vong across the face, it may do some harm to their morale. It may do some good for ours. Luke, I’d appreciate it if your Jedi could be not just as active as possible, but also out there for everyone to see—a constant reminder to our forces of the strength and versatility they represent.”

  “And of one of our most important roles,” Luke said. “Protectors of the people. Consider it done, General.” Luke left unstated the fact that a higher profile for the Jedi could mean more lost to the Peace Brigade, fewer able to reach the escape routes Han and Leia were establishing. This was a necessary risk.

  “Thanks.” Wedge turned his attention away from Luke and to the gathering before him. “Colonel Darklighter, I want to keep Rogue Squadron on high guard in Borleias orbit for the time being.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Captain Deevis, I want at least two ships with good sensor systems on-station in the Coruscant-Borleias approach corridor, one just on this side of the point Borleias’s gravity well would cause incoming ships to come out of hyperspace, one at a distance, our best-guess projection based on previous tactics as to where a Yuuzhan Vong sortie might drop out of hyperspace.” He began looking among the assembled officers and civilians, not waiting for confirmations of his orders. “Captain Birt, while Record Time is being repaired, you’re in charge of the injured. Find a portion of this facility you can set up for triage, surgery, and wards. Coordinate with Haven Jace, our medical frigate. Lando, the rest of the facilities are yours to apportion, and you’ll act as quartermaster. Booster, you’re in charge of communications. Make sure we make the best use of whatever equipment we have on hand, and coordinate it through the Errant Venture. Danni—is Danni Quee here?”

  “I’m here.” Luke saw a hand waving from the back.

  “You’re in charge of just about everything Vong. You’ll get the prisoners, the gear, and vehicles we’ve captured from the Yuuzhan Vong garrison. First priority, in my opinion, would be freeing the prisoners from the blasted coral things. Corran Horn?”

  “Here.” Another hand waved from the back of the crowd. Horn was no taller than Luke and wasn’t always easy to spot in a large group of people.

  “Corran, Gavin did receive your request to rejoin Rogue Squadron, and he and I both welcome it, but I’ve got another assignment for you for the moment. We know there are Yuuzhan Vong out in the jungle. I want you to help set up security for this facility. Your combination of Jedi, Corellian Security, and Starfighter Command experience is just what we need. In the meantime you can continue flying with the Twin Suns until you transfer back to the Rogues.”

  “Understood.”

  “Tycho, you’re in charge of starfighter forces. I remain in direct command of space navy forces. I want preliminary status reports downloaded to my datapad in half an hour and a meeting of officers and divisional heads in the conference room in two hours. Lando will let you know where the conference room is.” Wedge clapped his hands together sharply. “Let’s move, people.”

  The crowd dispersed with military rapidity, leaving behind only Wedge, Tycho, Luke, and Mara. Mara joined the other three at the table.

  Luke made his voice mild. “You didn’t ask anything of me. Well, you asked me to do what I was going to do anyway. You didn’t have a specific task or duty for me.”

  Wedge gave him a puzzled look. “Luke, you’re more or less the guiding light of this whole operation. I don’t mean just my fleet group. All three groups are looking to you for advice. I can’t make demands of you, or of the Jedi.”

  “You can make demands of friends.”

  Wedge blinked, then offered up a slight smile. “True. And I’d be happy to do that.” He offered an apologetic shrug. “As drained as we are of resources, I want the Errant Venture to stay here. I’ve already asked Booster. But that means that if the Jedi trainees stay aboard her—”

  “It’s no longer a safe haven for them, I know. I’ll be dealing with that. I have some ideas on where we can put the students.”

  The Maw, he thought, with the Jedi haven under construction there, with its surrounding screen of black holes and mad gravitic interactions, would be best for now.

  “Then I want you in charge of special forces, special operations. Mara, I know this is a lot to ask of a woman with a small baby—”

  Mara straightened, holding Ben to her. “Trust me, my capacity for mayhem is undiminished.”

  Wedge’s smile broadened. “I didn’t spot any ranking Intelligence officers in that crowd. I’d appreciate it if you could act as our Intelligence head for the time being. When we get in an officer from Intelligence, you can move over to Luke’s department of special forces and mayhem.”

  Luke hesitated before speaking again. “Wedge, has there been any word about Iella or the kids?”

  Wedge shook his head. “None. But if there’s anyone in the New Republic who could smuggle herself and two children offworld—”

  “It’s Iella, I know. They’ll be fine, Wedge.”

  “Are you—” Wedge’s voice was suddenly hoarse. “Does that mean you’ve seen something? With your Jedi perceptions?”

  Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, no.”

  “Oh.” Wedge schooled his features back into impassivity, but to Luke, he looked as though another hope had suddenly died within him. Luke felt a crushing shame at having given him a false hope, however inadvertently.

  Wedge rose. “Yes. I’m certain they’ll be fine.” He left the chamber, Tycho with him.

  “He’s hard to read,” Mara said. “How is he?”

  Luke shrugged. “Holding on. Relying on all that military discipline. But not knowing about his family is chewing away at his guts. “C’mon, let’s find out what sort of resources special operations and Intelligence can put together. And we need to find someone who can baby-sit while we’re off doing our duties.”

  Mara shook her head. “I’m not going to accept any duties that take me away from Ben. Not anymore. Flying yesterday, that was the last time. I couldn’t stand it again.”

  “Mara—”

  “No, listen to me, farmboy. There’s no one, other than you and Karrde, that I’d trust more than Leia. But she couldn’t protect Ben. Viqi Shesh took him back on Coruscant, and we had to rely far too much on luck to get him back. I’m not going to let him out of my sight. Period. Anyone who comes after him, I kill personally.”

  Luke looked at her, taking in her calm demeanor and the wild eruption of emotions it hid, emotions he could feel through his Force-bond to her, and knew he wouldn’t win this argument today. As if on cue, Ben woke and erupted into wails of distress. “We’ll talk about this later,” Luke said.

  Mara gave him a frosty little smile. “Sure, if you like reexperiencing the same conversation and the same results.”

  THREE

  Yuuzhan Vong Worldship, Coruscant Orbit

  They were two Yuuzhan Vong guards assigned to march her to her last interview. Assigned to conduct her to the meeting where she would be condemned to death.

  She was afraid of them, for either could kill her on a whim, and neither had the slightest regard for her life.

  She knew contempt for them, for they were ugly, anonymous creatures, drones whose names would never be known. Somewhere, and perhaps very soon, they would die in battle and be forgotten.

  She envied them. The remainders of their lives, however short, would probably be longer than hers.

  She was Viqi Shesh. Once the Senator representing Kuat before the New Republic, she had for a long time also been a spy for the Yuuzhan Vong, funneling them crucial information about the planet Coruscant and the workings of the New Republic’s government. Long an
d faithfully had she served her new masters.

  But long and faithful service hadn’t meant much to them. As the Yuuzhan Vong invasion of Coruscant had begun, she had attempted to carry out her latest assignment—the kidnapping of Ben, the infant son of Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker—and had failed. Her enemies had been a step ahead of her and had swept the brat off to safety. She had pursued and had been within meters of retrieving the baby, but a counterattack by Lando Calrissian and his combat droids had left her disgraced and friendless, in the grip of the Yuuzhan Vong she had failed.

  Until that moment, she’d confidently anticipated receiving great rewards from the Yuuzhan Vong for her service and effort. Instead, her reward had been to be arrested and hustled up to Domain Dal, the worldship that served Tsavong Lah, Warmaster of the Yuuzhan Vong, as his flagship.

  She was in pain. Neathlats, a sort of living bandage, clung to her right forearm, where Princess Leia’s Noghri bodyguard had bitten her to the bone, and to her back, where Leia’s lightsaber had slashed and burned her. Neathlats promoted healing but did not diminish pain. That was not the Yuuzhan Vong way. Instead, they irritated nerve endings, causing the pain of injuries to be sharper.

  She was without allies. No one would speak for her. She had failed to produce Ben Skywalker for the Yuuzhan Vong, and her betrayal of the New Republic was by now certainly common knowledge among the refugees from Coruscant.

  But she was not weaponless. Not while she had her intelligence, her political experience. She still had a weapon she could aim at Tsavong Lah.

  The guards led her along a lengthy corridor. Its lines were not truly straight, its corners not quite right angles. Its surfaces were a mottled red reminiscent of muscle tissue. It smelled like raw meat, and Viqi forced herself to keep an expression of disgust from her face.

  It was deep within the Yuuzhan Vong worldship. It had to be well away from the ship’s centers of command, for there was no other traffic along it. Viqi was pleased that she could still think analytically.

  They reached a large chamber, its walls identical to those of the corridor, with an ivory-colored set of double doors opposite, a matched pair of Praetorite Vong guards standing before them. The guards drew the doors open to let them pass.

  Beyond was a large oval chamber in the same mottled red. Its floor sloped downward in a gentle curve, its lowest point being a circular opening some three meters across. The opening surrounded blackness; Viqi found she could not focus on the darkness. It seemed fuzzy somehow, rising above the level of the floor a quarter meter or more.

  Beside the pit stood Tsavong Lah, the great planner and guiding light of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion of this galaxy. A heavily scarred and tattooed example of highranking Yuuzhan Vong, his lips had been slit into tatters that stirred whenever he exhaled heavily, and his body was marked everywhere with bloodred scales, implants that spoke of his importance. His left arm had been replaced at the elbow by a radank claw, all reddish scales and spines, with fingers that were segmented and articulated in a manner not natural for Yuuzhan Vong or human; spines and scales were emerging from the flesh above his elbow as well, and small black dots, carrion-eaters, swarmed around them. She repressed a shudder. Despite all of Tsavong Lah’s mutilations and decorations, she had found him somewhat attractive—power and ambition in males being a lure for her, a secret weakness—but the rot that afflicted him, which threatened both to rob him of both his radank claw and his power, disgusted her.

  The guards and Viqi came to a halt before Tsavong Lah. He turned to fix his stare on her. “You may feel honored,” the warmaster said. “It is not customary for one of my position to witness the disposal of waste.”

  She looked at him, and then again at the pit overfull of darkness. In the blur of that darkness, at its edges, she saw motion that seemed suddenly familiar. It was identical to that of the little black dots, the carrion-eaters, that infested Tsavong Lah’s arm.

  She concealed a sensation of revulsion. “This is the fate you’ve chosen for me?”

  “Yes.” The warmaster gestured at one of her guards. “Denua Ku will kill you. If you are polite in these last few moments of life, I will let you choose the means of your death. He could break your neck, stab you with his amphistaff, have the staff bite you. Then your body will be tossed into the pit. The creatures there will ignore it for a time, until it begins emitting the odors of decomposition, and then they will fall on it, slowly eating it away to nothingness. You will disappear into darkness, Viqi Shesh, and cease to be, as though you never were.”

  Viqi’s stomach knotted, but she kept her expression calm, emotionless. “Why don’t I just jump in? I can drown as your little bugs fill my lungs. That way, these two nameless nothings beside me don’t get to participate.”

  She could sense anger in the increasing stiffness of her guards’ postures, but Tsavong Lah merely widened his eyes and looked a bit surprised. “You are anxious to provide compensation for your failure?”

  “Of course. I will do it this way if it is what you require; it is my obligation to serve. But I’m more anxious for you to stop lying to me. To end that particular torture, I’ll jump in right now.”

  “Lying. An interesting accusation. A deliberate offense.” Tsavong Lah smiled again. “One you can offer because you think nothing worse than death could await you. If that is your belief, you are wrong.”

  “I say you are lying for this reason: you are not disposing of me because I failed you. Others have failed you and been permitted to live … because they were still loyal resources you could rely on. You’re having me put to death because you think I’m no longer valuable to you. No longer a resource.”

  To the extent that they could, Tsavong Lah’s features became thoughtful. “I am impressed. You make your point. I am killing you because you are no longer a resource, Viqi.”

  “But I am. My most powerful weapon is still with me, Warmaster—my brain. While I sat in my cell, I used it, and I uncovered a threat to your control of the Yuuzhan Vong, to your plans for this galaxy, to everything you consider a goal. You are in danger you don’t even know about. Only I have uncovered the secret.”

  “Name it, then.”

  “No.” She looked at her guards. “Not while these unworthy ones can hear my words. Not while anyone other than you can hear them.”

  Tsavong Lah gestured. Viqi’s guards took her by her arms and, seemingly without effort, lifted her. They held her over the pit. Black dots leapt up from it, settling on her feet and lower legs. Some leapt off again.

  “Anything you have to tell me, they can hear,” Tsavong Lah said, “in the final moments of your life.”

  Viqi returned her gaze to his. She was able to keep the fear she felt out of her voice. “You and I are the only ones in this chamber I know are not your enemies. I will not speak what I know before strangers, because it might spell your doom. If I die now, with my secret unspoken, you might figure it out yourself, and survive anyway. I will not betray you. So drop me.” She made her expression fierce, and the ferocity was not just a show—the fear she felt was real, and fueled very real anger.

  Tsavong Lah considered her for a long moment, then made a shooing gesture to his guards. They withdrew a step, bringing Viqi back over solid flooring, and released her. She fell awkwardly, almost collapsing when she landed; a stumble and she might have pitched forward into the pit anyway. Then they turned and left the chamber.

  Viqi felt the first, faint stirrings of hope. She was in charge of this situation, for the moment at least. If she could hold on to her tenuous advantage, she might live.

  Tsavong Lah regarded her steadily. “Well?”

  “Your body rejects its latest modification,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “I know what you’re thinking. You believe it’s your gods talking to you, telling you to figure out the correct path to their approval. But that’s not what’s happening.

  “You’re being betrayed, Warmaster. By the shapers. They’ve put a faulty limb on you. It thr
eatens to turn you into a Shamed One. Soon, they’ll start recommending courses of action to you—military action, political action. When you start doing what they say, the problems with your limb will diminish. But anytime you fail to do as the shapers demand, new problems will begin. You’re going to be their slave, Warmaster.”

  Tsavong Lah fell silent. His eyes were unreadable.

  You contemptible, predictable fool, I have you. Viqi clamped down on the rush of elation she felt—she could not afford for it to be reflected in her expression.

  In her cell, she had used her skills of fabricating and anticipating treachery—not to figure out the source of the problems afflicting Tsavong Lah, but to concoct an accusation that explained all of them, a story that would take time and effort to disprove. She would use that time to find some way to escape the Yuuzhan Vong.

  “An interesting notion,” the warmaster said. “What if you are wrong?”

  “I am not wrong.” Viqi gave him her most unconcerned expression. “I just ask for the opportunity to see my theory proven right. Kill me then if you choose. At least I’ll die victorious.”

  Tsavong Lah regarded her for long moments. Then he nodded to himself. “We will see. I will give you duties to perform until proof is in my hands … or my patience ends.” He called out a few words in his language, and the guards returned to flank Viqi. At the warmaster’s gesture, the guards took Viqi by the shoulders, spun her around, and led her back out the door.

  Every step was more distance between her and the pit. Every step was a loosening in the tight grip that fear had on her heart. Every step was a drumbeat accompanying the words that pulsed through her mind: I live. I live. I still live.

  Borleias Occupation, Day 3

  Wedge’s comlink beeped, awakening him. His booted feet slid off the desk before him and hit the floor with a too-loud clatter. He sat up, wondering for a moment where he was and what he was doing there.