Reunion (25 page)

Senshi stared down at the unconscious figure, smiling thinly. “Now they won’t be able to ignore us.”

There was a murmur from the Ferroans standing around him.

Jacen stepped forward. “Why would you do this? Why take the Magister?”

“Because she has forgotten,” he sneered. “She has forgotten the pain and suffering we endured the last time strangers came here after years of searching: the fires and the groundquakes; the terrible losses as whole villages fell; the hurricanes that tore entire boras out by their roots; the smoke that covered the sky. She forgets that we all lost loved ones, and that we stand to lose more if we allow her to throw away everything we’ve worked for. We didn’t come here to rest and rebuild and then just throw everything away on a whim! We came here for
sanctuary.
”

“You remember the time before the Crossings?” Jacen asked.

“As clearly as if it were yesterday,” Senshi said, his expression haunted. “I lost my children, my partner, my parents, and my brother and sister. And I lost too many friends to even count! I was alone, wishing that I had died with them. But I was spared; I lived on. I endured with Sekot as we searched for sanctuary, and I rejoiced when we finally found the peace we had so long yearned for. And now I feel misgivings at the return of the Far Outsiders—as well as
the Jedi.” He indicated the storm raging anew outside the overhang. “We have seen this combination before; we know what it means. I will not let the Magister plunge us into another cycle of death and destruction.”

“Sekot welcomed us here,” Jacen protested.

“Did it? I have only the Magister’s word on that.”

“Why would she lie?”

“Because by forgetting, she has become confused. And that confusion weakens her, putting us all at risk. I for one do not want to become cannon fodder in someone else’s war.”

Saba could sympathize with the man. She felt his pain as keenly as she felt her own. Had she been faced with the possibility of losing her loved ones and her homeworld over again, she, too, would probably take drastic steps to prevent it. But she couldn’t imagine the Magister ignoring either the will of her people—if Senshi’s feelings were widespread—or the will of Sekot. That would run counter to her purpose. It was unlikely that Sekot would tolerate such behavior in the person it had chosen to act as mediator between itself and its citizens.

“So what happens now?” Jacen asked. “What do you hope to achieve by all this?”

“We have achieved as much as we dared dream,” Senshi replied. “We’ve shown that we cannot be easily ignored. When the Magister wakes, she will have no choice but to listen to us. And if that fails, if she still turns her back on us, we still have you to bargain with. Either way, disaster
will
be averted.”

“But by turning your backs on us,” Jacen said, “you risk a much greater disaster.”

“Such as?”

“Such as the domination of the galaxy by a power more destructive than you could possibly imagine. Once that power has consolidated its forces on the ruins of our worlds, it will come for you. The Far Outsiders may have
been repelled once, but they won’t be so easily repelled when this system is filled with their warships. They will seed every planet in the system with biological factories in order to replace every ship you destroy. They’ll place interdictors across the entrances to this hyperspace bubble to make sure you can’t escape. And what happens then, Senshi? Who will you call upon for help when everyone else in the galaxy is gone?”

The young human spoke with the confidence of one in possession of a cold, hard truth, and Saba could see through Senshi’s glare that what Jacen was saying was having an impact—even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“You will never convince me that we need your help.”

“Thankfully it’s not you we need to convince,” Jacen replied. “It’s Sekot. And if you truly have the best interests of the planet at heart, then you’ll abide by its decision. Whether it listens to me through you or the Magister, it
will
hear my words—and then it can decide for itself.”

A low rumble rolled in across the tampasi at the conclusion of Jacen’s challenge. Saba felt an involuntary muscular contraction ripple down her spine. The Ferroans were silent, transfixed by the confrontation between Senshi and Jacen. There was fear in their eyes, as well as uncertainty.

“It’s been a long day,” Senshi said after a few moments. “We are all tired. Unless the Magister wakes before, we will rest until dawn. By the light of day, things may be clearer.”

“We will stay until then,” Jacen said. His tone was soft, but there was no escaping the antagonism of his words.

“You’ll stay until I decide you can leave,” he returned coldly.

“This one iz prepared to argue the point,” Saba said, matching his frosty tone.

The Ferroan leader shot her a baleful glare, but didn’t challenge her. He turned his back on them and issued orders to the rest of the kidnappers. The group slowly dissolved into clumps of people unfolding bedrolls and breaking out supplies. Tourou guided Saba and Jacen to a niche at the rear of the overhang, where they lay Danni’s stretcher down and covered her with blankets. There, surrounded by nervous Ferroans, they made themselves comfortable for what little remained of the night. Saba had no intentions of sleeping, and neither, clearly, did Jacen. He sat up, his face glowing in infrared as he stared past the Ferroan guard to where Senshi stood talking to a couple of his people.

“What now?” Saba asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He faced her in the dark. “Now we wait.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“None at the moment, except to demonstrate to Senshi that we don’t mean them any harm—no matter how much they try to provoke us.”

“We don’t have to cause them harm,” Saba said. “This one could carry Danni while you free the Magister. Together—”

“Too difficult,” Jacen responded. “There are too many of them. Someone’s bound to get hurt. We can afford to be patient a little longer.”

Saba wasn’t so sure.

“Danni haz been unconscious a long time, Jacen,” she reminded him. “She will need medical attention soon.”

Jacen looked down at the unconscious scientist. One hand reached out to brush damp strands of hair from her face. “She’ll be all right,” he said. The Force stirred at his touch, to help promote healing. “I’m sure she will.”

But he couldn’t look at Saba as he said it, and he didn’t sound convinced.

*  *  *

Tahiri trembled as she felt the shadow of Jaina, lost in the prison of her mind.

Let’s kill her
! Riina said, her voice full of eagerness.
She’s vulnerable in here, and we’ll take her by surprise
.

No
, Tahiri said simply.
No, we mustn’t. I mustn’t. To do so would not relieve me of my grief; it would compound it. To kill her would send me to the dark side. And that’s what you’d like, isn’t it, Riina? That’s why you clouded my sight, so I couldn’t see
!

The Yuuzhan Vong girl seemed infinitely smaller than she had a moment earlier.

You spoke the truth when you said we could never be separated, but you feel that if I embrace the dark side then I will become a prisoner of these shadow lands, allowing you to become the dominant personality
.

Riina said nothing in return.

Tahiri shook her head.
I would sooner we both stay here forever than unleash you upon my world
!

Riina snarled and tried to pull away, but Tahiri held tight. Their fingers were slick with blood, but her will was strong.

It’s time
, she said.
I’m tired of being lost
.

The ragged edges of their wound sought each other and sealed as though it had never existed. Tahiri gasped at the unsettling sensation, and heard Riina do the same. She watched with alarm as their entwined fingers melted into each other, as though their skin had wrapped around both hands, binding them together. Tahiri met Riina’s eyes and recognized the horror she saw there. Then the two of them stared as the lumpy knot of flesh that was their combined hands began to spread along their arms. Tahiri could see the bones moving beneath, testing their new environment. Then the knot began to move up their forearms, drawing them closer together.

Riina continued to try to fight it, but Tahiri refused to
relent—even though she shared the Yuuzhan Vong girl’s fear and revulsion for what was happening to them.

There’s still time to change your mind
, Riina cried as she struggled.
We don’t have to do this
!

You’re wrong
, Tahiri said.
We do have to do this. It’s the only way
.

Despite her determination, though, the words didn’t ease the dread tightening in her chest. While she felt sure that this was what needed to be done, she really didn’t know what the result was going to be.

The knot reached their elbows, and Tahiri felt her hand sliding under the skin to Riina’s shoulder. It felt as though an outside force were at work, pulling the mirror image of herself into a tight embrace.

Tahiri met Riina’s wide-eyed stare again.

We must embrace
, she told her Yuuzhan Vong counterpart.
Our cultures, our beliefs, our knowledge
.

Some of the fear ebbed from Riina’s gaze, then.
We must embrace
, she concurred.
Our emotions, our lives, our selves
.

Tahiri took a deep breath as the knot of skin reached their heads and slowly pulled them together so that their noses were almost touching.

The good and the bad
, Riina said, her lips brushing lightly against Tahiri’s own.

The light and the dark
, Tahiri said.
We must embrace …

“It’s a trap!” Droma’s cry of alarm was echoed by C-3PO, who threw himself backward as the floor tipped beneath them and
Millennium Falcon
was sucked down into the gaping maw.

Leia hung on desperately while Han struggled to reach the controls in front of him. From his annoyed expression, she knew that he was about to blast their way out
of danger—and he wasn’t about to consult with the aliens before doing so, either.

But there was something about the unfolding space ahead of them that caught Leia’s eye. Still gripping her seat, she leaned forward in the hope of getting a better look.

“I think I know what it is!” she said.

“I don’t
care
what it is! Anything intending to eat us is trouble!”

“That’s not what it’s doing. Look!”

All eyes in the cockpit turned to the display just as the maw fell shut around them. The light-enhancing algorithms adjusted to this new level of darkness, searching out infrared and other frequencies for information on their new environment. The
Falcon
seemed to be surrounded by numerous vertical columns, like teeth in an enormous mouth.

But if it was a mouth, it wasn’t eating them. There was no rending, no crushing, nothing at all to indicate that they were about to be ingested into the belly of some giant subterranean beast.

“See those columns?” Leia said, pointing at the display. “They’re legs. And as for the eyes …” She watched carefully as the sensors scanned the ceiling.

Han chuckled before she could finish what she’d been about to say. “Portholes, right?”

“The relay base?” Droma sounded as though he could hardly believe his eyes—or his luck.

“It was here all along,” Han said, cutting power to the repulsors and letting the
Falcon
settle to the bottom.

“Perhaps not.” Leia watched as a slender wire snaked out of the gloom and attached itself to the hull of the battered freighter. “Don’t go giving your Solo luck any medals just yet.”

“This is Commander Ashpidar of Esfandia Long-Range Communications Base,” came an emotionless, female voice
from the comm. Leia identified its speaker as a Gotal, which seemed appropriate. The bi-horned, energy-sensitive beings would perfectly suit a gloomy place like Esfandia. “I’m sorry we took so long getting here. Word travels slowly among the Cold Ones.”

“You know who we are?” Leia asked, making sure to reply the same way Ashpidar’s communications arrived—along the wire. The Yuuzhan Vong search parties were too close to risk any sort of broadcast.

“We know you came to help us, and that’s all that matters. We were sheltering in some nesting plains several dozen kilometers from here when word arrived. The tunnels connecting the plains are cramped but easy enough to negotiate. We came as soon as we could.”

“How many are there under your command?”

“Fifteen,” Ashpidar replied. “We lost two when the bombardment began. They were servicing one of the detectors when the Yuuzhan Vong destroyed it. The rest of us are in here, though—safe for the moment.”

Leia hoped that remained the situation. Taking in the
Falcon
had been a calculated risk with the Yuuzhan Vong searching so fervently above. She would hate to be responsible for any more lives lost.

She quickly identified herself, Han, and Droma, and put a name to the ship. Then she explained what they were doing there, and who they’d brought with them to defend the base.

“Imperials?” the Gotal said, surprised. “They’re the last people I expected to see you working with.”

“Times change,” Han said. “But listen, we’re going to need to work out what we’re going to do next.”

“I will organize a docking umbilical to enable us to meet and discuss this in person.”

“That’s a good idea,” Leia said. “We’ll have to find a way to keep you safe until the Yuuzhan Vong leave.”

“We’re safe enough right where we are,” Ashpidar
said tonelessly. “Unless we break comm silence or expose ourselves, we could hide here indefinitely.”

“Assuming their tactics don’t change, of course.”

“Speaking of which,” Droma said, waving for silence. “Listen.”

Leia and Han did so, but the only sound to be heard was that of the air scrubbers recycling air through the cockpit.

“I don’t hear anything,” Han said.

The Ryn nodded, his tail sweeping the floor behind him. “The bombardment has stopped. And that can only mean one thing.”