STAR WARS - THE NEW JEDI ORDER - Destiny's Way

by Walter Jon Williams

  And then one of Far Thunder's turbolasers punched right through the craft like a knife thrust through a bar of soap, turning it to bright rainbow fragments that spattered on Jaina's shields. The skip's dovin basal hadn't been able to guard against Jaina and the cruiser both.

  She breathed thanks to whatever droid brain had fired the luck)' shot, then rolled away from Far Thunder and punched the throttle to escape the danger zone.

  "Twin Leader, you're being bounced!" Tesar's voice. "Watch your six!"

  "Rolling left," Jaina said again. That would put her in the overlapping fields of fire from both Far Thunder and Whip Hand, which she hoped might intimidate the Vong. Her cockpit brightened to streams of turbolaser fire, the blue and red and green light strobing on her control switches and dials.

  Then plasma cannon projectiles flamed past her extended right foils, and she jerked her X-wing left again, then rolled back onto the tail of the skip as it raced past. She could see the dovin basal singularity deployed aft, but she lined up the target anyway. Why not? Shooting at it might keep it honest.

  "Skip on my six!" Vale's frantic voice jolted Jaina's heart again. "I'm breaking right!" Behind Vale's words she could hear the slam of plasma cannon projectiles on the X-wing's shields.

  Jaina abandoned her quarry and broke left, then right, an S curve that she hoped would let her line up on the coralskipper that was hunting Vale. It flashed across her sights and she fired, but the deflection shot missed. Cursing, Jaina hauled the X-wing after the enemy.

  "I've lost shields!" The enemy's dovin basal had jumped forward and eaten Vale's shields. At least that meant the singularity wasn't deployed aft.

  "Twin Two, break left!" Vale overreacted to Jaina's command, hauling the stick around so hard that her maneuvering thrusters killed her own speed and made her craft a perfect target, but the skip swam across Jaina's nose and she launched a missile. The enemy craft shattered like an egg, and for a moment Jaina mistook the buffeting on her shields for debris until a bright scarlet plasma cannon projectile slammed her canopy like a giant hammer ringing a bell. She rolled her ship to right but the cannon rounds followed, slamming her again and again.

  "Vale, your six is clear!" she shouted. "But I've got a skip on my tail! I'm breaking to right!"

  Her astromech droid R2-B3 gave a squeal of chittering anger as a dovin basal overloaded one of her rear shields. She spun the ship in a wild corkscrew spiral as plasma rounds blazed past her cockpit.

  Jaina licked sweat from her upper lip. "Vale, get me out of this!'" First Far Thunder, then Whip Hand whirled through her vision.

  "I can't find you, Major!" her wingmate wailed. One of the enemy rounds darted through the broken shield and took off a chunk of Jaina's upper left foil. She led the enemy pilot on a mad dance through the void, but the skip hung on, its plasma cannons hammering.

  "Breaking left!" Jaina called, and hoped someone was in a position to hear and act on the knowledge. Turbolaser fire from Whip Hand traced surreal patterns across her vision. She could feel sweat beneath her arms and across her forehead, and felt her shoulders tense as if awaiting the shot that would blow her away.

  "Twin One, roll right!" Tesar's voice. Jaina heard the command through the Force before she heard Tesar's words, and she yanked the X-wing around. Laserfire streamed past her canopy, and then actinic light flared off her cockpit instruments as the pursuing coralskipper was blown to fragments.

  "Thanks, Twin Nine." Jaina blinked sweat from her eyes. Tesar's third flight had done exactly what Jaina had intended them to do: hang out of the fight until one of the hovering enemy squadrons bounced Jaina, and then bounce the attackers.

  It wasn't over, though, by a long shot. Jaina's squadron was still tangled up with a swarm of coralskippers, and they were all moving very fast. By now they had overshot the cruiser and frigate, and were engaged in a fighter-to-fighter duel outside the zone of the capital ships' protective fire. They were all on their own, and the numbers were fairly even.

  A burning X-wing crossed Jaina's path, and she felt a steel fist clamp on her insides and twist. The two skips that had flamed the X-wing flashed past too quickly for her to get a shot at them.

  "Twin Two, get on my tail!" The lost aft shield was preying on Jaina's mind, and she very much wanted Vale behind her helping to cover the gap.

  "I still can't find you, Twin Leader!" Vale's bewildered cry nearly shattered Jaina's eardrums.

  "Never mind," Jaina said. "Just stay alive. I'll find you." Jaina pushed her Force-sense outward, tried to locate Vale in all the confusion.

  "Twin Ten and I will stick with you, Jaina," Tesar said.

  "Thanks again." And then she had to dodge a Yuuzhan Vong missile that was trying to find the hole in her shields. She yelled at her astromech droid to get the shield up again and took a snap shot—and missed—at a coralskipper that flashed past. She found Vale in her heads-up display and chased her down just in time to shoot a coralskipper off her wingmate's tail. "Right behind you, Twin Two," Jaina said as the burning coralskipper flamed off into the darkness.

  "Oh thank you!" Vale's exclamation was heartfelt.

  "Twin Nine," Jaina told Tesar. "Vale and I both have damaged shields aft. Can you stick with us?"

  "Affirmative."

  There followed several minutes of burning, tearing, confused combat that alternated with bewildered moments in which Jaina couldn't seem to find anyone to shoot at. She took shots at several coralskippers and launched a pair of missiles but had no idea whether she'd succeeded in hitting anything. And then she heard Lowie's roaring cry.

  More coralskippers were arriving—at least ten of them!

  This was the second enemy battle group that had been hovering out of the combat, waiting to jump Jaina when she made her attack. Thanks to her maneuvering, they'd been forced to fight their way past the capital ships in order to reach Jaina and had lost a pair of skips in doing so, but now they had arrived. Now the odds against Twin Suns Squadron turned fatal.

  Jaina's next few moments were frantic with evasive action as she danced and weaved and fled across the face of the void. In the course of her frantic maneuvers she lost track of Vale, Tesar, and Twin Ten; she lost a sense of everything except her own terror. Through the Force she could only sense desperation and terror, and she closed down her extended Force-sense, not wanting the other pilots' emotions to distract her. She saw an X-wing explode in a shower of orange light, and she fired at skips that crossed her path without knowing whether she hit them or not. The intership comm filled with shouts, warning, and screams of frustration, fear, and anger. Jaina was nearly blind with the sweat that poured into her eyes. Finally she'd had enough. This was a fight that it was impossible to win.

  "Twin Suns Squadron!" she shouted. "Prepare for hyperflight— return to origin! On my mark!"

  "Return to origin" called for a hyperspace leap to the jump point previous to this one, meaning the place in empty space where Jaina had first heard Far Thunder's distress call. There was no problem jumping from here—they were in deep space, where every point was a jump point.

  "Negative, Twin Leader!" came a voice. "Negative! Do not jump!"

  Only now Jaina remembered Ijix Harona and his flight of A-wings.

  "Where are you?" she demanded. She pulled her X-wing hard to the right to evade the bright fire of a plasma cannon. Another cannon jolted her front shields as a coralskipper tried a deflection shot.

  Colonel Harona's voice was maddeningly calm. "We're right here."

  And suddenly the dark night of space lit with the fires of burning coralskippers.

  Seven enemy craft were destroyed in two seconds as Harona's twelve A-wings punched through Jaina's fight. Jaina's squadron had become so entangled with the enemy that both she and the coralskippers had slowed in order to maneuver, leaving the Yuuzhan Vong easy, sluggish targets for the A-wings' blazing storm of fire.

  Jaina gave a shriek of relief and joy. "Cancel that hyperspace jump!" she called. "We're back in busin
ess!"

  There was more desperate fighting for Jaina while Harona and his A-wings turned for another pass, but this time the odds were more even. She splashed one enemy, and scared another off the tail of one of her rookie pilots. Then Harona and the A-wings came slashing through again. The Yuuzhan Vong this time were more prepared and the A-wings nailed only four, but that tilted the odds more decisively in Jaina's favor, and now it was the enemy desperately evading across space while the X-wings pursued.

  Before the A-wings could make a third pass, the Yuuzhan Vong broke contact and ran, heading for the tender analogues that had carried them here. Not just those engaged with Jaina, but all the rest as well, all those harassing Far Thunder.

  "Good work, Twin Suns," Harona congratulated. "A fine day."

  A fine day for you, Jaina thought. Her jumpsuit was soaked with sweat, and the air in her cockpit fairly smoked with the tang of adrenaline.

  "Form your squadron astern of Far Thunder" Harona ordered.

  Jaina's squadron had lost three craft and two pilots, both rookies. Jaina had barely had time to learn the names of the two pilots before the war tore away their lives. Her own wingmate Vale had survived. The rookie pilot who had succeeded in ejecting from his damaged craft was picked up by one of Far Thunder's shuttles that carried its evacuating crew to Whip Hand.

  Once the crippled cruiser was evacuated, Whip Hand maneuvered to within point-blank range of Far Thunder and opened fire. The unresisting cruiser blew to bits in a furious explosion, leaving nothing behind for the Yuuzhan Vong. Jaina pictured the unlucky Captain Hannser on the bridge of Whip Hand as he watched the destruction of the ship for which he had fought so hard.

  Jaina knew just how he felt.

  The Yuuzhan Vong had lost a couple of dozen coralskippers in exchange for the destruction of a Republic-class cruiser. Even though they'd fled the battle, the Yuuzhan Vong had every reason to call it a victory.

  The two starfighter squadrons formed on Whip Hand and leapt together into hyperspace, heading for Kashyyyk. Once there, Jaina knew, Twin Suns Squadron would bind its wounds, acquire two new replacements, and set out on its ambitious training schedule— until, of course, they were again called upon to face the Yuuzhan Vong, and the roll of death's dice in the void.

  * * *

  Chapter 17

  Nom Anor left the temple square in a thoughtful mood. The temple's head priest, standing before the altar, had just delivered the message that High Priest Jakan had written on the subject of heresy, a message that all priests were ordered to repeat to all Yuuzhan Vong over the course of the next few days: Reverence of the Jedi was explicitly condemned.

  The congregation had been attentive—much more attentive than they would have a few days earlier, before the shapers had produced the antifungal balm that had relieved their itching.

  Norn Anor, his skin no longer aflame, had listened to the message with approval, at least until the message ended and the crowd began to disperse. It was then that he realized that the priests' message had been, perhaps, a little too detailed.

  What Jakan had done, the executor suddenly realized, was to explain to any potential heretics exactly how to behave. The little band of heretics that Norn Anor had infiltrated possessed a confused, inchoate doctrine, the elements of which they barely understood. But now it had all been explained to them. They had now been told that heretics believed that the Solo twins were emanations of the gods; that the power of the Jedi was a threat to the gods. Jakan had just defined heretical doctrine for the heretics themselves!

  If Nom Anor should ever attend another meeting of the heretical congregation, he suspected they would have a much better idea of what they were doing.

  Nom Anor rose from his thoughtful trance and discovered that he was leaving the temple alongside a young shaper, one who had—judging from the freshness of the scars—only recently acquired the shaper's specialized hand. Nom Anor remembered the guarded damutek on the fringes of the new city, the one where he'd observed Onimi, and he approached the shaper.

  "Pardon me, friend shaper," Nom Anor said. "I wonder if I may have a moment of your time."

  "Honored thir?" the shaper said in surprise. He had knocked out several of his own teeth and replaced them with some kind of coral implants, presumably ones that aided him in his shaping duties. Nom Anor didn't really want to know what shaper protocol required modified teeth, and he regretted the young shaper's lisp extremely.

  "My name is Hooley Krekk, from the Damutek of the Intendants," Nom Anor said. "We're from the Emergency Resources department, and we've recently received a requisition from the office of-—well, I shouldn't give the name, save to say that he's a master shaper. Unfortunately the requisition is couched in rather technical language, and neither I nor my superior quite understand the purpose of the requisition. He says it is important work to do with the war, but we can't quite understand what the Shaper Lord intends to do, and my superior is unwilling to release the resources until it can be made clearer."

  Nom Anor now had the shaper's full attention. Yes, Nom Anor thought at him, this is all about making your caste richer.

  "How may I athitht you, thir?" the shaper asked.

  "The requisition has to do with supplies necessary in order to 'fulfill the directives' of—" He feigned hesitation, "—of something called a 'cortex,' I believe."

  "A cortecth is a body of shaper knowledge," the helpful shaper lisped. "Each cortecth wath delivered in the Before-Time by the godth themselvth to the Thupreme Overlord or to mathter shaperth."

  "I see," the intendant said. "And how many cortexes are there, exactly?"

  "Eight."

  "The eighth would be the highest, then?"

  "Yeth, Lord Intendant. The eighth cortecth is the thupreme body of knowledge of the shaper'th art. Motht of it wath delivered by the godth to the Dread One Shimrra himthelf, and he hath not yet theen fit to deliver the knowledge even to mathter shaperth."

  Nom Anor felt a chill run up his spine. We're doomed, he thought. Who would have thought that extinction would be heralded by such an absurd, lisping voice?

  He barely managed to stammer out his thanks to the shaper, and quickly tore himself away in order to contemplate in private what he had just learned. He knew how governments worked— how else could he subvert them?—and that knowledge enabled him to draw conclusions from a sprinkling of facts.

  The eighth cortex, the supreme knowledge possessed only by Shimrra and the gods, did not exist. The cortex project, headquartered just beyond the city and guarded by a corps of warriors, was intended to create the knowledge, which Shimrra would then deliver to his people.

  The Yuuzhan Vong were in a war of indefinite length, and they had run out of the knowledge that would enable them to win it. If the New Republic continued to learn and innovate while the eighth cortex of the Yuuzhan Vong remained empty, then the Yuuzhan Vong were finished. Doomed. About to be wiped from history.

  His mind whirled. Nom Anor put a hand against a wall in order to steady himself. And if the gods, he thought in terror, have not Delivered the knowledge to Shimrra, then Shimrra. is a fraud, and so are the gods.

  Nom Anor wanted to laugh and shriek and wail all at the same time. The greatest pillars of faith, obedience, and hierarchy, the pillars that held up the great edifice that was the Yuuzhan Vong, were nothing but a swindle. Nom Anor had always suspected this—but he had never expected to have it proved!

  Others were staring at him, he realized. He managed to pull himself upright and put one foot in front of the other as he marched to his office.

  The Yuuzhan Vong needed to win the war fast, he thought. Before the lack of an eighth cortex could make a difference. Nom Anor would demand more information from his agents and would sift their reports with the greatest care and diligence. He would find the enemy weaknesses and devise ways to take advantage of diem. He would help the Yuuzhan Vong hammer the enemy until the enemy surrendered, or was no more.

  And he would also try to work ou
t a way to use the knowledge for his own advantage. Because he was, after all, Nom Anor.

  A holo blared in the small room, and tiny three-dimensional figures swung their fists: heroes fighting evil in the days of the Sith.

  "You've returned," Vergere said.

  "I have," Luke said. "And I brought you something."

  He offered a package of sweets, candies made from a Mon Calamari seaweed drizzled with a sauce of jewel-fruit.

  "Welcome, young Master!" Vergere cried, and took the package.

  "I'm afraid you won't find a file or a concealed vibroblade," Luke said.

  Vergere, chewing candy with an expression of bliss, did not immediately reply. When she managed to speak, she said, "My debriefers seem to have run out of questions. This means that they're busy cataloging all my answers so they can ask the questions all again, and try to catch me in contradiction." There was a trace of amusement in her tone. "If I contradict myself, they prove I'm a spy because I can't keep my story straight; whereas if I don't contradict myself, they prove I'm a spy because I'm too well briefed."

  Luke laughed to himself, imagining Ayddar Nylykerka cursing as he heard this. He had just shown Luke the transcripts of Vergere's interviews, all annotated for the reinterrogation; he'd now learned that Vergere had anticipated his every move.

  Vergere waved off the holo as Luke settled onto his chair. "There's this comfort at least," she said, "the holos are as witless as I remember."

  "That must be a consolation."

  She peered at him. "You've come to ask a question."

  "You owe me an answer from last time."

  Vergere settled comfortably onto her stool and popped another candy into her mouth. "Begin, then," she mumbled.

  "How did you prevent the Yuuzhan Vong from finding out about your abilities? We know that yammosks can detect Force-users."

  "It is easier to demonstrate than to explain." She faced him directly. "Please attack me through the force."