Jaina came out of her roll right onto the tail of an enemy TIE fighter. She launched a missile by pure reflex, and the fighter blossomed into a brief, scarlet flower. In another two seconds she’d vaped the first TIE’s wingmate, and the rest of her squadron accounted for three more.
Through the Force she could sense enemy pilots engaged with Kyp’s Dozen and completely unaware of her existence.
“Starboard sixty degrees, Twin Squadron,” she said. “Three, two, mark.”
Her three four-fighter flights rolled over and through one another in a perfect crossover turn. “Accelerating now,” Jaina warned, and pushed the throttles forward. She had already marked out a target, and she pushed her mind into the Force-meld to tell Kyp she was coming.
Kyp sent a series of thoughts and impressions that translated to something like, You’re welcome to a piece of this sorry bunch if you want one. The Force-meld was powerful here, with so many Jedi present: it was almost like being a party to a large, private conversation. Though Kyp’s squadron was tangled up with superior numbers, he didn’t seem terribly threatened.
It was strange to feel the enemy in the Force again. The Yuuzhan Vong were defending their convoys and rear areas in part with mercenary and Peace Brigade forces. These enemy pilots defending Duro were still present in the Force, and often Jaina knew what the enemy pilots were going to do before they knew themselves.
Jaina hadn’t felt the enemy in the Force since the fleet had raided Ylesia, a few weeks before. The Peace Brigade headquarters had also been defended by natives of the galaxy, which made them easy to fight, but the raid had gone wrong for other reasons. Bad intelligence, inadequate operational plan, bad luck.
This raid was going to go right, if Jaina had anything to do with it.
Jaina’s targets were Howlrunners, which partly explained Kyp’s lack of urgency. Jaina told each of her pilots to pick a target, slam it, then rendezvous on the other side of the furball in order to regroup for another slash.
Her attack left a Howlrunner trailing flame and the panic of its pilot a distant shriek in the Force. Her other pilots succeeded in damaging or destroying their targets, and as Jaina told her fighters to regroup, she heard Kyp’s laconic voice in the Force suggesting that she go find someone else to shoot at.
At that instant Jacen’s presence blossomed in the Force, and somehow Jaina knew exactly where he wanted her to go, and that he wanted her to use her shadow bombs.
“On my way,” Jaina said.
Jacen was on the bridge of Admiral Kre’fey’s flagship, the Bothan Assault Cruiser Ralroost. His vacation on Mon Calamari had lasted three weeks—after that, Luke had told him he had the choice of working with the Great River or of joining Jaina and the fleet at Kashyyyk.
Perhaps Luke had been a little surprised by Jacen’s choice.
He left his life on Mon Calamari with small regret. He had enjoyed his brief respite from the war, enjoyed the company of his parents, of Luke and Mara and Danni Quee, but he as well as Luke knew that it was time to move on.
Once he’d joined Kre’fey, Jacen’s experience with the Jedi meld on Myrkr had helped him rise above the weeks of training that he’d missed. And in time it had become obvious that his talents were less tactical than spatial and holistic. Through the Force, and through the combined minds and perceptions of the Jedi, he seemed to gain a sense of the entire battlefield. He could sense where to move tactical elements and when to press an attack and when to hold back or withdraw. With the other Jedi as his eyes and ears, he felt the necessity of moving a squadron here, of pulling back the main body there, of maintaining a hovering threat elsewhere. He couldn’t have said why he knew this, he only knew that he knew.
If he narrowed his focus to the individuals who made up the meld, he could sense their distinct personalities: Corran Horn with his stubborn resolve; Kyp Durron flying with controlled fury; Jaina with her machinelike tactics, brain abuzz with calculation.
Everything was calculation with Jaina these days. She had fashioned herself into a weapon—the Sword of the Jedi—and there was room for nothing else. If he tried to talk to her about anything but her job, anything but the daily necessities of fighting and survival, she simply would not respond. It was as if much of her personality had simply ceased to exist.
It was painful to watch. Jacen might have been hurt by Jaina’s attitude if he weren’t so concerned over the damage that she must be doing to her own spirit.
Now. He almost heard the Force speaking in his ear, and he ordered Saba Sebatyne and the Wild Knights into a slashing run on an enemy cruiser.
Two months of constant raids and skirmishing had demonstrated that Jacen’s chief value wasn’t in the cockpit of a starfighter, but on the bridge of a flagship, where he could help direct an entire armada. Kre’fey had happily taken him aboard the Ralroost.
And now, as turbolasers flared and missiles erupted against shields, he sensed a place for Jaina and her squadron.
And then, in the whirling movement of the squadrons that blazed in the night, Jacen sensed something else hovering in the darkness, weapons ready.
“Scimitar Squadron,” he said in response to this sudden knowledge. “Please stand by.”
“Twin Squadron,” Jaina said, “turn toward Duro on my mark. Three, two, mark.”
Twin Suns Squadron performed another perfect crossover turn, placing the disk of Duro directly ahead. It was the first time Jaina had seen the planet since its loss to the enemy. She had been in a field hospital here after being wounded—she’d been blind, dependent on others, embroiled in conspiracy, and with a major Vong offensive in the offing. Her memories of the planet weren’t happy ones.
But Duro was now a different world. She remembered Duro as a gray-brown waste of desert and slag, but the disk was green now, bright with vegetation. The Yuuzhan Vong had converted the poisoned planet to their own purposes, but in so doing so had taken a near-dead world and made it thrive.
As Jaina neared Duro, she could see the fires of deadly energies flashing across the green disk of the planet. Three Yuuzhan Vong cruisers were fighting to hold Kre’fey’s main body from a cluster of huge transport craft, and though outnumbered two to one the enemy cruisers were fighting hard. Their starfighter pilots weren’t Peace Brigade draftees in motley craft, either, but first-rank Yuuzhan Vong warriors in coralskippers. That was obvious enough from the way they fought, using a high degree of tactical intelligence even though their yammosk had been jammed.
As Jaina watched, one of the enemy cruisers broke apart in flame and ruin, and she sensed the satisfaction of Saba Sebatyne with the part her Wild Knights had played in the attack. Go for the next cruiser, Jacen sent, and Jaina pulsed a silent acknowledgment.
“First flight goes in now,” she said. “Second flight follows. Third flight watches our tails until we’re clear, and then you can make your run.”
Lowbacca and Tesar acknowledged.
“Dropping shadow bombs now,” Jaina said. The missiles, packed with explosives instead of propellent, dropped from her X-wing’s racks. With the Force Jaina shoved them on ahead, braking her own X-wing slightly so as to increase their separation. She set them on a trajectory for the aftmost enemy cruiser, then concentrated on leading her flight’s run with standard missiles and laserfire, bringing them to the target at a slightly different angle so as to fool the enemy dovin basals, which might snatch her concussion missiles without noticing the less visible shadow bombs as they approached.
Space lit up ahead, a brilliant display of turbolaser fire, plasma cannon projectiles, magma missiles, concussion missiles, and burning craft. This was the most dangerous part of her approach, Jaina knew, flying in between the big capital ships pounding each other at point-blank range. She could be flamed by her own side without their even noticing her presence.
Yet she knew, somehow, that she was in no real danger. More tangible than the missile and turbolaser fire she could sense the Force, and this time the Force wouldn’t let her fail.
Her laserfire raked the enemy hull. Dovin basals sucked down her concussion missiles and one of the shadow bombs, but she saw a geyser of brilliant fire as the two other shadow bombs struck the enemy, and she pulled up and away as more bombs dropped into the inferno.
Lowbacca’s second flight, six seconds behind, scored another series of hits. Though the cruiser wasn’t destroyed, it was no longer able to defend itself effectively, and the New Republic cruisers began to strike home with one attack after another. The Yuuzhan Vong ship was doomed.
“First flight! Second flight! Skips on your tail!” Tesar’s voice called, not through the Force, but over Jaina’s headphones.
“Scissors, Lowie!” Jaina called. “I’ll break right!” One flight would go right, the other left, and then they would interweave to shoot the enemy off each other’s tails.
“Negative, Twin One!” another stern voice called. It was a voice that Jaina had learned to trust.
Behind her burning coralskippers lit the night. “Thank you, Colonel Harona,” she called as Scimitar Squadron flashed past her cockpit, their colossal ion engines speeding them past.
“Don’t thank me,” Harona said. “Jacen told us you might need help about now.”
Sometimes, Jaina thought, her brother was positively eerie.
The second enemy cruiser was a burning wreck, unable to fire and unable to defend itself, leaving only one functional enemy cruiser against six of Kre’fey’s. Three concentrated on the lone enemy while the others and most of the smaller ships dived after the transports. About a third of the transports tried to land on Duro, but were blown out of the atmosphere before they could put down. The rest scattered and were picked off one by one by the New Republic forces.
After the transports and the single cruiser were destroyed, Kre’fey’s cruisers settled into low orbit over Duro and pounded anything on the ground that looked like a warrior damutek, warehouse, command center, factory, or spaceport.
Jaina didn’t know if she liked the idea of bombardment from orbit, and she could sense Jacen’s stern disapproval through the Force. Though she could understand the advantage of hitting an enemy from a position of safety, a bombardment was contrary to her Jedi instincts and training, which focused on actions that were more precise and far less random.
Despite the Jedi’s attitude, bombardment of the enemy was part of Admiral Kre’fey’s standard orders. Kre’fey’s Question Number One, How can I hurt the Vong today?, was best answered by blowing up things.
“Remember,” Kre’fey had said, “they destroyed entire worlds by seeding alien life-forms from orbit. Just think what they did to Ithor. What we’re doing is merciful by comparison.”
True, Jaina supposed. As far as it went.
“Regroup, Twin Squadron,” she called. “Prepare for recall.”
Her fighters slotted neatly into their assigned formations. Through the Force she could feel their pride, their sense of accomplishment. Her relentless insistence on drills and practice sessions had paid off. In the nearly three months since her visit to Mon Calamari, months filled with raids and skirmishes and alarms, she hadn’t lost a single pilot. Three X-wings had been destroyed or so badly damaged they were scrapped, but the pilots had always ejected before their craft were wrecked and were recovered afterward.
Her six rookies were now proud veterans, all with kills to their credit. A few weeks ago Jaina had astonished her Neimoidian wingmate, Vale, by sitting with her at the breakfast table and engaging in a conversation that had nothing to do with tactics or with Vale’s deficiencies as a pilot.
Vale and the other rookies had proved themselves. They were worth knowing.
But though Jaina was friendlier than she’d been, she was careful to avoid actual friendship. Her determination hadn’t lessened over the months. She knew that the raids on Yuuzhan Vong territory had been carefully planned to take advantage of temporary enemy weaknesses. The attacks had been made only against outnumbered or ambushed forces, and were aborted if the enemy proved stronger than anticipated. Often the enemy were second-rate troops, Peace Brigade or mercenaries or Yuuzhan Vong workers with scant warrior training who fell apart into a confused muddle once their yammosks were jammed. Jaina’s own rookies had been blooded, but they’d been blooded in battles where great pains had been taken to assure only victory.
Jaina knew that Twin Suns Squadron couldn’t expect battle on such favorable terms forever. Sooner or later the enemy would launch another offensive, and then her squadron would be up against first-line Vong warriors attacking from a position of overwhelming strength. It would make every fight her new pilots had experienced look like a playground skirmish between children.
The knowledge that the enemy offensive would inevitably come kept Jaina on edge. Just because things had been going well was no reason to relax. In fact, she had to be harder than ever in order to keep her pilots from slacking off due to overconfidence.
Fortunately, a few things kept Jaina from exploding with tension. Kyp’s powerful and strangely stabilizing presence. Jacen’s otherworldly calm. Regular messages from her parents, from Luke and Mara … and from Jag Fel.
His squadron was still hunting Yuuzhan Vong on the Hydian Way, and with her he shared the frustrations of a veteran pilot training a large number of rookies.
She was confused about what she should allow Jag to mean to her. She feared he was a distraction; that if she let him into her life, she’d lose her edge. But then moments would come in which she yearned for his embrace, felt the press of his phantom lips on hers …
It was lucky they were apart, she decided. If they were together, the turmoil of her own thoughts and desires might overwhelm her.
But a part of her very much wanted to be overwhelmed.
Her heart lurched as her cockpit displays flashed. A Yuuzhan Vong task force had just left hyperspace. Seven capital ships of varying sizes, all of them now venting squadrons of coralskippers. The Yuuzhan Vong defending Duro had called for help, but it had arrived too late.
For a moment Jaina waited in suspense. The two forces were nearly evenly matched. Kre’fey’s cruisers had taken little damage in their lopsided fight, and few fighters had been lost. The Jedi Force-meld was an advantage the enemy couldn’t match. A nearly bloodless victory had been won, and the New Republic forces were exultant. Morale was as high as it was ever going to get. If Kre’fey gave the word, his task force would fling itself on the enemy in absolute confidence of victory.
Kre’fey could win this, win two battles in a single day. He had to know that.
“Cruisers regroup,” came the order on the command channel. “Starfighters stand by for recovery and transit to hyperspace.”
Jaina felt the tension drain out of her, and the exultation, too. Kre’fey was playing it safe.
He was probably right, she thought. This might not be the only enemy force on its way to help Duro.
But Jaina felt disappointment. She knew the Force was with her today, and might not be on the day of the next battle.
“I believe I’ve found the trap I’ve been looking for,” Ackbar said. “The trap that will spell doom for the Yuuzhan Vong.” He floated in his pool at home, with Luke, Cal Omas, and Admiral Sovv sitting in plush chairs on the rim. The room smelled pleasantly of the sea. Winter stood by with a holoprojector.
She switched on the projector, and a star map floated in the air over Ackbar’s head. Luke knew from the star density that it had to be somewhere in the Core, but otherwise the configurations of the stars were unfamiliar to him.
“This is Treskov One-Fifteen-W,” Ackbar said, as one of the stars blinked against the background. “It’s an old main-sequence star on the outermost fringe of the Deep Core, completely unexceptionable. As you can see from the overlay of our official hyperspace route charts”—a narrow golden ribbon appeared on the display, a hyperspace route leading to the blinking star—“Treskov is a dead end. But if we add the secret Imperial Core routes that Princess Leia brought back from Bastion …” Four other routes appeared on the display, marked in red and radiating from Treskov. “You see that unmarked routes from Treskov lead farther into the Core. One of these”—another blinking light—“leads to an Imperial star base code-named Tarkin’s Fang. The base was sealed and evacuated at the end of the Galactic Civil War, but otherwise remains intact and usable. There is also a large cache of supplies stored at Tarkin’s Fang that the Empire intended to use in the event of renewed hostilities.”
“Even Tarkin’s Fang is a dead end,” Admiral Sovv pointed out. “If we put forces there, they could be blockaded by any enemy who sealed the route to Treskov.”
“I agree,” Ackbar said. “And I intend the enemy to agree as well.”
Perspective shifted on the holo, the display zooming to display Treskov and its system. The fifth planet out, a gas giant striped in white and several shades of green, began to wink.
“This is Ebaq, a gas giant with eleven moons. Of these, Ebaq Nine was once exploited by the Deep Core Mining Corporation for its deposits of bronzium. The moon was opened up shortly after the rise of Palpatine. During the war years the Empire maintained an observation post there, and used Ebaq Nine as an emergency resupply point, but the moon is now empty.”
Ackbar ducked his head beneath the water, refreshing himself, then shook stray drops from his massive head. “I propose we reoccupy the moon and use it as bait in a trap. We must make it an irresistible target for the Yuuzhan Vong. And then, once the enemy begin their assault, we seal off the end and turn the Treskov system into a killing ground in which the enemy forces are hunted down and destroyed.”
Ackbar turned to Sien Sovv. “Admiral, it is you who must commit the forces necessary to destroy the Yuuzhan Vong.”
And then Ackbar turned to Luke, and Luke felt a chill run down his spine. “Master Skywalker,” the admiral said, “it is for you and the Jedi to provide the bait.”
“I’m calling this meeting of the High Council for two reasons,” Cal Omas said. “First, we must discuss Admiral Ackbar’s plan for a renewed attack against the Yuuzhan Vong. Second, Intelligence Director Dif Scaur has an announcement of critical importance.”
Cal looked abnormally grim. He was usually relaxed at meetings, joking as he slouched his lanky body into its seat. Today he was erect and businesslike. Clearly something important was at hand.
The council members weren’t as crowded as they had been at their first meeting, even though they met in the same room, with the same overlarge table. The crowding had eased because fewer were present: Kyp Durron and Saba Sebatyne were at Kashyyyk, fighting with their squadrons, and had given their proxy votes to Cilghal and to Luke, respectively.
“I have no intention of communicating the details of Admiral Ackbar’s plan to this council,” Cal said. “Its usefulness depends on secrecy, and in any case it’s irrelevant to the case I wish to put. Ackbar’s plan requires detaching large forces from their current deployments and using them against the Yuuzhan Vong. This will mean that many of our squadrons now engaged in the defense of our worlds won’t be available in case the Yuuzhan Vong choose to attack.”
[If our fleets are on the offensive,] Triebakk proclaimed, [the Vong will have more urgent things to do than to attack our planets.]
“Sir, our briefings have indicated that many more ships will be available in six standard months or so,” said the soft voice of Ta’laam Ranth. “Would it not be possible to delay our offensive until we can both defend our planets and attack the enemy?”
“My Gotal colleague has a point,” Releqy A’Kla said. “It may be possible to delay any offensive until we have greater numbers.”
“There’s a time limit on the admiral’s plan,” Luke said. “We currently have a technological advantage over the enemy. We don’t know how long this advantage will last, so the admiral wants to move now.”
“Delaying six months,” Sien Sovv said, “means the war goes on six months longer than it would otherwise. Six more months of killing and uncertainty and expense.” He looked at Ta’laam Ranth. “Thousands of worlds are under threat. The fleet can’t defend them all, even with six months’ worth of reinforcements.”
“My colleague’s arguments are logical,” the Gotal said. “I concede that an attack is logical.”
“If I may interrupt,” Dif Scaur said, “I’d like to bring my own business before the council. It may have a direct bearing on whether the New Republic wishes to go on the offensive or not.”
Luke looked at the thin man with care. When Ackbar had first presented his plan, Scaur had been meticulous about discovering Ackbar’s timing. This had made Luke suspicious, and Luke’s suspicions had been confirmed at Council meetings. Scaur clearly had an agenda of his own, and it was an agenda with a timetable.
Scaur looked from one council member to the next. “I am now able to reveal the existence of a secret unit in New Republic Intelligence called ‘Alpha Red.’ It is headed by Joi Eicroth, a xenobiologist formerly belonging to Alpha Blue, another secret unit charged with Yuuzhan Vong affairs. Since the beginning of the war, Alpha Red has undertaken covert research on Yuuzhan Vong biology with the assistance of a team of scientists supplied by the Chiss.”
Here it is, Luke thought. Something big, something very quiet that had gone on for at least two years without a breath of it getting out. In a government as porous as Borsk Fey’lya’s, that was a major accomplishment.
Unless Fey’lya himself didn’t know, Luke thought.
“Why Chiss?” Sien Sovv asked, bewildered.
“The Chiss come from a hidden, remote section of the galaxy far from the Yuuzhan Vong invasion routes,” Scaur said. “It was highly unlikely that the enemy would have infiltrated them.”
Which means, Luke thought, that Scaur’s had contact with the Chiss for some time. He knew in advance that he could count on them to deliver.
“Our xenobiologists and geneticists have investigated Yuuzhan Vong genetics,” Scaur continued. He placed his pale, thin hands on the table before him. “They have located a unique genetic signature in Yuuzhan Vong DNA, something common to all Yuuzhan Vong species—the plants, the living buildings and ships, the animals, the Vong themselves. This genetic signature is unknown in any plant, animal, bacterial, or viral life within our own galaxy.”
“You’ve developed a weapon,” Ta’laam Ranth said. Luke could feel surprise among the other council members, followed by apprehension and dread.
“Yes.” Cal’s face was grim. “We have a weapon.”
“A biological weapon,” Dif Scaur said. “An airborne weapon that will attack only those plants or animals that possess the genetic signature of the extragalactic Vong. If the weapon is dispersed efficiently on enemy worlds, we calculate that the menace of the Yuuzhan Vong will be ended within four weeks at the most—probably three.”
“What do you mean, ended?” asked Cilghal.
“I mean the Vong will be dead,” Scaur said. “And everything the Yuuzhan Vong brought with them—all the plants, all the buildings, all the ships.” He shrugged. “There may be some survivors in remote areas. But they’ll be infected if they travel to Vong worlds, and if they don’t, they can be hunted down.” He glanced briefly at each of the council members.
“Biological weapons are notoriously capricious,” he continued. “Normally I would never recommend their use on a dispersed population like the Vong, but this weapon will be so effective that I consider it an exception to my usual rule. The Vong can’t escape it. It will attach to their genetics. There is a latency period of four or five days in which they will feel no effects, but will be infectious and contaminate everyone and everything they contact. After that they will begin to break down on the cellular level—their living tissue will dissolve into a fluid, and even that fluid will be infectious. They will be infected by their ships. Their weapons. Their armor. Their homes. Their food. Everything in their environment will carry the disease. Once the breakdown starts, the Vong will be dead within three or four days.”
Luke let the horror sink in. The horror was followed by anger—anger is a useful emotion, he remembered Vergere telling him—and he turned to Cal Omas.
“How long have you known about this?” he asked.
“Since I was sworn in,” Cal said.
“Almost three months.”
Cal turned his own eyes to Luke. “Master Skywalker, I’m extremely sorry. But you understand that the secrecy of this project was paramount.”
“I understand your reasoning,” Luke said. And I disagree, he thought coldly. Because if I’d known in advance, I could have prepared arguments against this. As it is, I can only make the arguments that occur to me, and hope the Force will be with me.
He looked at Dif Scaur. “You want to use the Great River to distribute this weapon, don’t you?” he said.
Scaur nodded. “That would be convenient.”
Luke shook his head. “Jedi won’t touch this. I ask you not to require it of us.”
Scaur seemed unsurprised. “The Great River isn’t vital to the project. Our own intelligence networks now extend into Vong space. The fleet can deliver the weapon on missiles to enemy fleet targets, to space facilities, or to planets. And the Bothans made Alpha Red much more convenient when they declared ar’krai on the Vong—the Bothan spynet is famously efficient, and Alpha Red will settle all their goals for this war.” He shrugged his thin shoulders. “The Yuuzhan Vong themselves will do most of the distribution on our behalf, as their infected personnel and ships travel from world to world.”
Ta’laam Ranth turned his red eyes to Luke. “Master Skywalker obviously objects to this plan,” he said. “I wish he’d explain his protests.”
Luke looked at the others. “The Jedi exist to preserve life. This slaughter of entire species runs contrary to our principles.” He took a breath and summoned the Force and hoped that it would make his arguments as brilliant as they needed to be.
“Let me point out that the Yuuzhan Vong are not so completely unlike us,” he said. “They are intelligent and educable. If you took one of their young and raised it, the child wouldn’t be unlike one of ours—their evil isn’t innate to the species. It’s their government and their religion that have made them aggressive, and it should be our task to defeat that government and religion, not to wipe out the common people who have had no choice but to follow their leaders.”
“The Yuuzhan Vong have done this to our worlds,” Ayddar Nylykerka pointed out. “They’ve sown our worlds with life-forms that have killed everyone on the planet.”
“Which is simply another point against the use of this weapon.” Ta’laam Ranth’s declaration surprised everyone at the table. “If we unleash this weapon against them, they could retaliate against us. We could lose worlds to Vong biologicals.”
“Alpha Red is a defense against such an attack,” Scaur said. “Alpha Red would destroy any biological assault the Vong could launch.”
Triebakk gave a roar that brought silence to the table. [I know something of science,] he said finally through translation. [I know the word blowback.] He glanced at the others. [For those who don’t know this term, it describes a weapon’s unanticipated side effects turning on the user.] He looked at Dif Scaur. [You’re planning to distribute Alpha Red throughout Vong space. Billions upon billions upon billions of live bacteria—or viruses, or whatever Alpha Red is—cast loose on viable ecosystems.] He shook his shaggy head. [You can’t tell me that Alpha Red won’t mutate, not in all those replications. And you can’t assure me that one of those mutations won’t be harmful to us. Blowback could kill all of us.]
“The Chiss assure me this is highly unlikely,” Scaur said.
“Unlikely,” Luke said. “Not impossible.”
Scaur shrugged. “If this is a worry, we could quarantine Vong worlds until we can assure they’re safe. Refugees will be upset at not being able to move home immediately, but once victory is achieved, we should be able to pacify them.”
Scaur had anticipated every argument. He’d had months to prepare this. Luke had only this moment.
“You haven’t spoken of Yuuzhan Vong biological capabilities,” Luke said.
Scaur raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand, Master Skywalker.”
“The Yuuzhan Vong have formidable biological knowledge,” Luke said. “They do everything through biotech. Can you tell me they haven’t anticipated this form of attack? How do you know they aren’t ready for it? How do you know that once they see we’re ready to commit genocide and ecocide both, they won’t retaliate in kind?”
For the first time, Scaur seemed at a loss. “We see no sign of it.”
[You don’t understand everything about the Vong,] Triebakk said. [My guess is that you have at best a cursory knowledge of their immune systems. What if they’re ready for you?]
Scaur hesitated. A corner of his eye twitched. “We have no evidence to show anything of the sort.”
“Have you looked?” Luke asked.
Scaur seemed nettled. “Of course. We’ve captured and examined shaper facilities. We have a decent knowledge of the weapons they’ve used against us. We’ve captured their ships and examined them.”
“Our knowledge of the enemy is deficient,” Ta’laam Ranth said. His double-horned head turned slowly left and right, scanning the table. “Clearly it would be illogical to proceed with this plan.”
Dif Scaur’s face tautened, only increasing the death-mask effect. “The weapon is fully tested,” he said. “And that includes on live subjects.” He raised a hand to cut off Luke’s explosion of protest. “Warrior prisoners,” he said. “We have to keep the warriors unconscious after we capture them, because the second they wake they try to commit suicide. We infected a small number of these with the weapon. The weapon …” He took a breath. “The weapon works. I regretted extremely the necessity of having to do this, but a test was required, and their deaths were as painless and humane as we could make them.” He put his hands on the table before him. “I assure everyone here that Alpha Red will work, and will do everything that is promised.”
“This is unconscionable,” Luke said. Never had he felt such cold rage. “This is something Palpatine might have done.”
Dif Scaur gave him a furious glance. “No, this is not what Palpatine would have done,” he said. “Palpatine would have tested the weapon on the population of an entire world, and used it as a terror weapon to keep other worlds in subjugation. I ask Master Skywalker to avoid such odious comparisons.”
There was a long moment of silence, broken by Cal.
“Perhaps we should vote, then,” Cal said. “Those in favor?”
Dif Scaur’s hand went up first. Then Nylykerka’s. Then, with hesitation, the hand of Sien Sovv.
Luke kept his hands on the table. So did all the Jedi. “I cast Saba Sebatyne’s proxy against the motion,” he said.
“And I cast Kyp Durron’s,” Cilghal echoed.
“The motion fails,” Releqy A’Kla said.
Then Cal Omas turned to Luke. There was regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Luke,” he said, “but in a war that we’re losing, we can’t afford to throw away any weapons. Particularly one that will end so much suffering and heartache for our people.” He turned to Dif Scaur. “This council is advisory, not legislative. As Chief of State, I order Dif Scaur to continue the Alpha Red project.”
Luke sat stunned. Dif Scaur looked at his hands in order to hide the cold triumph in his eyes.
Sorrow dug deep furrows into Cal’s brows. “This is a tragedy in every way,” he said. “But our only choice is between one tragedy and another, and I prefer to make the Vong’s story a tragedy and not ours.” He looked at Dif Scaur. “When can you have your weapon ready?”
“There is only a small sample of the material at present,” Scaur said. “We’ll need to produce much more—tons at least. The secure Alpha Red facility is unsuited for producing such quantities.” He turned to Cal. “There’s an old Nebulon-B frigate in orbit above Mon Calamari, used as a hospital ship. If we could shift the patients to the surface, Alpha Red could take advantage of the ship’s isolation and sterile environment. Once we get there, I anticipate enough product can be made to begin distribution within two weeks.”
Cal turned to the others. “In that case,” he said, “we’ll postpone implementation of Admiral Ackbar’s offensive plans. We may as well stay on the defensive until Alpha Red wins the war.” He looked at the others. “Of course, no one is to speak of this matter until the end of the war. If then.”
He brought the council meeting to a swift end. He cast one regretful glance at Luke, then stood and made his rapid way out, followed with equal rapidity by Dif Scaur.
Feeling a hundred years old, Luke rose slowly from the table. Triebakk and the Jedi came to stand beside him.
“What can we do?” Cilghal asked.
Luke forced a casual shrug. “Try to change Cal’s mind. We have a couple of weeks at least.”
[If there is more that you wish to do …] Triebakk left the thought unfinished.
Luke shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but no.”
If Luke did anything, he would do it himself, and take the responsibility on himself alone.
But he knew that if he did, he would throw away everything he’d worked for in the course of his long, exacting life.
Luke returned home after the meeting of the High Council with dread and anger warring in his mind. Nothing could be done as long as he was in this state, so he sat on the floor and began to apply relaxing techniques to get his thoughts and emotions under control.
He felt Mara in the Force before she entered the apartment. She paused for a moment in the doorway, her own Force-awareness gently enfolding him, and then she closed the door, put down the briefcase she was carrying, and joined him on the floor. She sat behind him, her hands on his shoulders, and began working at the taut shoulder and neck muscles. Luke surrendered to the touch, let her fingers turn his muscles to liquid. His breath fell into rhythm with hers. Mara worked herself closer until she was pressed against his back. Her arms went around him, and she rested her chin on his shoulder.
“What’s the bad news?” she said.
Luke hesitated, but he knew Mara could be trusted, and besides the horror was too vast to keep to himself. He told her about Alpha Red.
Mara drew back slightly as she considered the problem. “What can we do?”
“Try to change Cal’s mind.”
Her chin dropped onto his shoulder again. Her voice was a breath on his ear. “And if his mind doesn’t change?”
Luke took a long breath. “I don’t know. We could try to wreck the project, but unless we killed the scientists they’d be able to duplicate their work. And even if we killed the scientists, or managed to kidnap them and hold them somewhere, other scientists would be able to duplicate the project. The problem is that once this weapon is known to be possible, anyone with the proper facilities can create it.”
He shook his head. “I’ve worked all my life to rebuild the Jedi. Now we have a government that’s willing to work with us, that we’ve helped into office, that’s reestablished the council, and which we’ve sworn to uphold. How can I turn on the New Republic at the very first crisis?” He took Mara’s hand in his own. “That would finish the Jedi. We’d be outlaws. We’d be everything that people like Fyor Rodan said we were.”
She looked at him with sad concern. “What you’re saying is that we really can’t stop Alpha Red; at best we can only delay. But can we really stand by and let this thing happen?”
“We can protest. We can refuse to have anything to do with it. That’s all I can think of.”
“Protest, yes. But how publicly?”
Again Luke shook his head. “Too public and the Yuuzhan Vong find out. Then they could hit us with bioweapons first, and it would be catastrophe.”
“You say that Triebakk knows. And that Ta’laam Ranth voted with you.”
“Yes.”
“You need to contact them. See if they can change the minds of others on the High Council.”
Luke nodded. “A quiet lobbying campaign, then. Dif Scaur caught me by surprise, and I didn’t have my arguments in order.” He nodded, and kissed Mara’s cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She rose to her feet and helped him to rise. “Kam Solusar sent new holos of Ben. Would you like to see them?”
“Of course.”
Seeing Ben speeding over the carpet on hands and knees gave Luke the usual mixture of sadness and joy, but served to shift his mood. He walked to the back of the apartment to change and wash before helping with dinner, and then froze as he saw a bundle of feathers in the spare room.
Vergere. She had been in the apartment all along. She was crouched in a meditation posture, her knees high, her head tucked in.
Horrified, Luke returned to Mara. “Vergere’s in her room. I didn’t sense her when I came in.”
Mara’s green eyes widened. “I didn’t either. She was making herself invisible again.”
“Do you think she heard us?”
Mara considered. “It isn’t as if we were shouting. We were centimeters from each other, practically whispering. How could she have heard?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
Mara’s look hardened. “Neither would I.”
“We’re going to have to watch her carefully. Unless—do you think we should have Nylykerka put her in detention again?”
“And give her a chance to stage a spectacular escape? And what if she doesn’t want to go—do we fight her?”
“Watch, then,” Luke decided. “And watch very carefully.”