SIX

A cool mist obscured the flowering crowns of Yavin 4’s tallest trees. The steep stairways of the ancient temples the Rebel Alliance had claimed so many years before and that had since become a training ground for the Jedi Knights climbed into the mist and vanished. Chucklucks and chitterwebs, ordinarily raucous at that time of the morning, perched on the low branches of Massassi trees, waiting for the sky to clear. Stinger lizards and stintaril rodents sat motionless as statues. Even the gas giant Yavin was not to be seen, though it backlighted the mist a deep orange color.

Stopped in a pathway that meandered to the Great Temple, Luke Skywalker drank in the stillness. The Force, ordinarily lucid, seemed blanketed by the mist, as well, and could manage little more than a whisper.

Somewhere in the ghostly, virid surroundings a belly-bird cooed. But Luke knew that what struck his ear as melodic was only the bird proclaiming its territory, warning others away. He listened more intently, catching the sounds of creatures foraging or on the hunt for food. It was the way of the Force that some should survive and others perish. Death without malicious intent, for nature didn’t have a dark side. One couldn’t compare the crystal snake’s search for prey with what the Emperor had done during his cruel reign and what the Yuuzhan Vong were doing now. But Luke had been asking himself, almost since the start of the invasion, how did life reveal itself to Yuuzhan Vong eyes and ears?

He stared into the mist. It was as if someone had thrown a gauzy veil over his eyes. Images came to him of insects disguising themselves as leaves, twigs, and flower blossoms, and of small animals mimicking the variegated litter of the forest floor. Camouflage, Luke thought.

Deception, stealth, misdirection …

The Yuuzhan Vong had swept into the galaxy like one of the unpredictable storms that blew across Yavin 4. Their faith in their gods was like Palpatine’s faith in the dark side of the Force. And yet, for all the evil they embodied, they were not Sith; they were not emissaries of the dark side. Blind obedience provided justification for even their most hideous actions. What made them servants of evil was not their faith but their need to force that faith on others and to destroy wantonly any who stood in their path. They failed to recognize light or dark because in some sense they saw existence as an illusion. Lacking any intrinsic value, life was to be lived in service to the gods, and the reward for that service waited in a life beyond.

When Luke or other Jedi had tried to peer into them, the Yuuzhan Vong had been found to be voids in the Force, absent the animated luminosity that embraced all living things. But if the Force did not flow through them, was it possible that the Force was likewise nonexistent in the galaxy in which they had evolved? Could the Force be specific to one place and not another, as if the result of an evolutionary occurrence unique in the universe? Or was it rather that the Force was lacking only in the Yuuzhan Vong—and in their living weapons, of course, which were little more than extensions of themselves?

In all likelihood Mara had fallen victim to one of those weapons—an illness the Yuuzhan Vong had introduced—and while her strength in the Force had held the illness in check where it had overwhelmed others, Luke wasn’t absolutely certain that the Force would have been the ultimate victor in Mara’s battle. Not when her recent return to better health owed to an antidote introduced indirectly by the Yuuzhan Vong.

Deception, stealth, misdirection …

For all his intense curiosity, Luke understood that it was imperative that the invaders be defeated. If defeat could be accomplished short of exterminating the Yuuzhan Vong, so much the better, for then some of his questions might one day be answered. But until such time the Jedi were obligated to aid and abet in the war that had been thrust upon the galaxy. How best to execute the Jedi obligation to peace and justice was an issue he was still grappling with.

The cryptic murmuring of the Force returned him to the moment. He recognized that his visitor had ceased talking some time ago, and he swung to face him now.

“I’m sorry, Talon, you were saying?”

Talon Karrde smiled faintly. But instead of picking up where he’d left off, he smoothed the ends of his dark mustache and continued to observe the Jedi Master with candid interest.

“You know, Luke, I can’t tell you how often I’ve wondered what the universe looks like through the eyes of a Jedi. I used to tell myself that you weren’t all that different from an H’kig priest or an Ithorian who had heard the call, only instead of revering H’kig or nature you looked to the Force. But the comparisons never held up. You see things the rest of us don’t see—or can’t see—and those things aren’t just the products of a mind-set the Jedi have cultivated as a separate reality. You see into the heart of reality, and that ability informs your actions.”

Karrde’s blue eyes sparkled. “I’ve seen you make decisions I couldn’t fathom at the time, but later turned out to be the right decisions. I used to watch Mara do the same thing. And as someone who has always prided himself on making use of privileged information, I had to ask myself whether those decisions were based solely on data I didn’t have access to, or if the Force gave you the ability to tug reality this way or that as needed—as required by your visions.

“I sense the latter’s true with you, but I’m not sure if it applies to Mara.” Karrde uttered a short laugh. “I’m sorry I never knew you when you were fresh off Tatooine—before you turned into a deep thinker. I’m not saying that Mara isn’t a deep thinker, but the Force seems to compel her to act more on intuition than deliberation.”

Ceremoniously, Luke lowered the cowl of his Jedi robe. “Mara and I are different but complementary—in the same way Anakin and Jacen are. There are different aspects to the Force, and not all Jedi focus on the same one. My Masters admonished me for always looking toward the future without really seeing it.”

“Could your father see the future?” Talon asked carefully.

“My father was not the seer but the lens.” Luke grew introspective for a moment, then smiled enigmatically. “By the way, if Mara had known you were coming to Yavin 4, she would have postponed her visit to Coruscant.”

“Another evaluation?”

“On the contrary. She refuses to be scanned, examined, or evaluated by anyone.”

“Then it actually cured her—this magic elixir Solo was given?”

“Not an elixir—tears. And no one will use the word cure, even Mara. I urged her to hold off on taking the antidote until we could be sure it wasn’t potentially dangerous, but she refused. She insisted on taking the risk.”

Talon nodded. “Her intuition. But you’re not convinced?”

Luke gazed at the jungle. “The Yuuzhan Vong priestess who claimed she wanted political asylum was a weapon sent to assassinate as many Jedi as she could gather. The being who traveled with her, Vergere, was not Yuuzhan Vong, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t serving their interests.”

“The elixir could have been part of the plot,” Talon said. “The Yuuzhan Vong could have wanted to make it appear this Vergere was on our side, to erase doubts about the substance she gave Han.”

Luke said nothing.

“But Mara’s better.”

“Healthier than she’s been in almost a year,” Luke admitted. “Joyous—as I am.”

“If she does slide, if the effect turns out to be temporary …”

“Whatever is contained in Vergere’s tears can’t be replicated. The chemical action is as puzzling as anything we’ve seen from the Yuuzhan Vong. We can only hope the effect is permanent.”

Karrde considered it. “You know I’d do anything to help Mara. I’ll track down Vergere. I’ll wring more tears out of her if I have to.”

Luke smiled. “I appreciate that, Talon. I’ll tell Mara you said so, though I suspect she already knows.”

They resumed their walk to the Great Temple. Off to one side of the path a dozen young Jedi, varying in age from four to twelve, were watching Tionne and Kam Solusar demonstrate a Force technique. Luke paused to observe one of the older children, Tahiri, attempt to mimic one of Kam’s manipulations.

“Yavin 4 has remained undetected, but with the Yuuzhan Vong as close as Obroa-skai, we may be forced to remove everyone to safer surroundings.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t targeted Yavin already.”

Luke turned to him. “We’re projecting an illusion. Something I learned from the Fallanassi.”

Talon’s eyes narrowed in revelation. “So that’s why you insisted on guiding me into the Yavin system.”

“Your eyes would have contradicted what your ship’s instruments were telling you.”

Talon put his tongue in his cheek and laughed. “If I’d had a line on that technique, I wouldn’t have had to base out of Myrkr, where the trees had a way of tricking scanners.” He grinned broadly. “But of course you remember that …”

“Yes,” Luke said flatly. “And even then, Grand Admiral Thrawn found you out. As Jedi commitment to the conflict increases, there won’t be enough of us here to maintain the illusion. The children will have to be sent elsewhere.”

Talon glanced at the kids. “Let me know if you ever need help with that.”

“I will.”

They hadn’t gone another ten paces when Karrde asked, “Is it true a Jedi died on Gyndine?”

“You’re referring to Wurth Skidder,” Luke said. “But we don’t know for certain that he’s dead. Leia was there to the end. She insists that Wurth deliberately remained behind.”

“To allow himself to be captured?”

“Perhaps to go undercover on Gyndine.”

Karrde shook his head. “I don’t know Skidder, but I’ve heard rumors. Is he the person for the job?”

“He’s skillful.”

“Skill’s good, but is he lucky?”

Luke didn’t answer the question. “Just now, like so many of us who have lost friends and family, he’s driven by vengeance. He was close friends with both Miko Reglia and Daeshara’cor.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with being motivated by vengeance if it gets you results.”

Luke’s expression said otherwise.

“Wrong?”

“Let’s just say that we don’t see the world in precisely the same way.”

They continued walking. Over the cascading sounds of the river that flowed past the Great Temple came voices raised in impassioned debate or argument.

“Sounds like there’s some division in the ranks,” Talon remarked as they neared the temple’s common room.

“That would be Jacen and Anakin.”

“Complementing one another, no doubt.”

Jaina, with arms outstretched, was positioned between her brothers when Luke and Karrde entered the dimly lighted space. A handful of other Jedi, including Kyp Durron, Ganner Rhysode, Streen, Lowbacca, Kenth Hamner, and Cilghal, looked on. Sensing Luke, R2-D2 began to bounce from foot to foot, chirring and warbling.

“They were just … discussing Anakin’s invitation to visit Centerpoint Station,” Jaina explained.

Luke glanced from Jacen to Anakin and back again. “Finish the discussion.”

Jacen scowled at his younger brother. “I’ll say it once more, then I’m done with it: Centerpoint is this”—he grasped the hilt of the lightsaber that hung from his belt—“on a gargantuan scale. Assuming the station can even be made operational, it should be used only for defense.”

Anakin exhaled wearily. “And I’ll say this one last time: I completely agree.”

“Then keep away from Corellia,” Jacen said. “Don’t have anything to do with enabling Centerpoint or any of the hyperspace repulsors. You were a kid the first time—we all were. You didn’t know any better.”

Anakin snorted. “You’re leaving out that my ignorant actions ended up foiling the Triad’s plans to detonate another star and annihilate every ship the Bakurans sent against them.”

“That was defensive! Your tinkering with the repulsor on Drall prevented Centerpoint from firing!”

“Tinkering,” Anakin repeated, snickering. “Let me ask you something: Are you against Jaina flying with Rogue Squadron?”

Jacen glanced at his twin sister, who was on temporary leave from the squadron she had joined only four months earlier. “Not in theory.”

“Are you against Mom and Tenel Ka going to Hapes?”

“Not in principle.”

“Not in principle? The New Republic is hoping to bring the Consortium into the war. If you think of Rogue Squadron or the Hapans as weapons—an extension of that,” Anakin said, gesturing to Jacen’s lightsaber, “then what’s the difference between what Jaina or Mom are being asked to do and what I’ve been asked to do at Corellia? I said I’d help enable the station. I didn’t say anything about firing it.”

Jacen made an exasperated sound and swung to Luke. “Where do you stand on this, Uncle Luke?”

Luke folded his arms. “As I told the Defense Force command staff, I’m opposed to reenabling Centerpoint on the grounds that its power is too unmanageable. And you all know that I was against Daeshara’cor’s attempts to resurrect another Eye of Palpatine. But if there’s even a chance that Centerpoint Station can be used to defend Corellia and spare the fleets for service elsewhere, we’re obliged to do what we can to help make it operational.”

Jacen pressed his lips together and swung back to his brother. “All right, Anakin, have it your way. But I’m going with you.”

Anakin shrugged. “Glad to have you along.”

The debate decided for the moment, the teens settled down and everyone gradually formed a loose circle around Luke and Karrde.

“Talon has a proposition for us,” Luke said. “I haven’t heard it yet, but knowing him as I do, I’m sure it will be interesting.”

“Or at least entertaining,” Kyp Durron mumbled, drawing laughs.

Karrde took the jesting in stride. “As I’m sure you know, the Hutts have struck some sort of bargain with the Yuuzhan Vong. By bargain, I mean just that, since the Hutts would sooner go to war than roll over for an enemy, no matter how commanding. So it stands to reason that in exchange for allowing the Yuuzhan Vong into their space, the Hutts asked for and got something in return. To figure out what that is, all anyone needs to do is follow the spice.”

Karrde paused briefly. “I’ve been doing just that, and I haven’t noticed any signs of interruption in the flow of spice—except in three systems: Tynna, Bothawui, and Corellia.”

He waited until the murmuring died down before continuing. “The Hutts wouldn’t suddenly cease deliveries to three profitable sectors unless there was good reason to avoid them. I’m willing to bet that the reason has to do with intelligence the Yuuzhan Vong provided as their part of the deal. Namely, that those systems have been targeted for invasion.

“The fact that no one has moved in to pick up the slack suggests that the Hutts have advised all their partners and subcontractors to steer a wide berth around Tynna, Bothawui, and Corellia. But even this doesn’t add up to a case good enough to present to the New Republic. To do that would require proof positive that avoiding those worlds isn’t just the result of the Hutts speculating about where the Yuuzhan Vong will strike.”

“Why not approach the Hutts and ask them directly?” Kenth Hamner asked. Tall and wellborn, Hamner had been a Defense Force colonel before resigning from military life to follow the Jedi way.

“Easier said than done,” Karrde said, “and in fact, the New Republic is trying to do just that. But if someone outside the military could furnish corroborating evidence, the Defense Force would have what they need to catch the Yuuzhan Vong completely by surprise.”

“Why do you come to us with this?” Streen asked. “You’ve been liaison between the Imperial Remnant and the New Republic since the peace accord. You certainly don’t need us to get the attention of Admiral Sovv.”

“I know why he’s come to us,” Kyp Durron said, keeping his eyes on Karrde. “Because the New Republic left him out of the loop when they asked Leia to approach the Imperial Remnant about joining the fight.”

Karrde snorted. “It wasn’t my place to approach the Remnant assembly. I’m a broker, Kyp, not an ambassador.”

“Then what makes you think it’s your place to approach us?” Kyp retorted.

“The fact is, I don’t know who else to trust with this. Judging by the way New Republic Intelligence handled that bogus Yuuzhan Vong defector, I’d venture to say that the Intelligence division, maybe even the Advisory Council itself, has been infiltrated. What’s more, the Defense Force can’t act without the approval of the senate, and the Security and Intelligence Council isn’t likely to back Admiral Sovv on the word of an ex-smuggler.”

“You still haven’t clarified why you need us,” Ulaha said. A Bith, she was delicate-looking and musically gifted. “After Ithor, we’re hardly in good stead with the senate ourselves.”

“That’s the point: you need to get them listening to you again. You’d think they would have learned their lesson from Ithor, but old habits die hard and they’re still reluctant to trust you. They don’t want to be perceived as indebted to the Jedi. It smacks of Old Republic thinking.”

Ganner grimaced, wrinkling the facial scar he had incurred at Garqi. “It warms my heart to see that you’re thinking about us, Karrde, but the Jedi don’t need a public relations person.”

“You’re wrong, Ganner. You’re too trusting. Anti-Jedi sentiment is spreading. Some folks think you’re holding back, others think you’re incompetent. A lot of people wish that Emperor Palpatine was still around, because they feel he’d know how to deal with the Yuuzhan Vong. If you want to go back to being monks, that’s your choice. But if you want to serve peace and justice, you need to smarten your image, and one way to do that would be to provide intelligence that ends up giving the New Republic a major victory. The best defense against treachery is treachery.”

“What role could we play in this?” Jacen asked impatiently.

Talon looked at him. “I can facilitate a meeting with one of the Hutts’ spice smugglers. We can find out for ourselves why no one is willing to deliver to Tynna and the rest.”

Jacen rolled his eyes. “This is Centerpoint all over again.” He glanced at Luke. “The Jedi shouldn’t have any part in this. It demeans us.”

“It doesn’t demean anyone,” Anakin argued. “We can help without having to raise a hand—or a lightsaber. You, if anybody, should be in favor of that.”

Everyone looked to Luke.

Images came to him of insects disguising themselves as leaves, twigs, and flower blossoms, and of small animals mimicking the variegated litter of the forest floor. The Force whispered to him once more: Deception, stealth, misdirection …

He realized that he needed to tread carefully, for fear of dividing the Jedi further. Where many lauded Corran Horn’s individual actions at Ithor, others favored Kyp Durron’s stance that aggression should be answered by aggression. What’s more, at Ithor Luke had renounced responsibility for spearheading the Jedi Knights.

“I’m not interested in repairing our tarnished image,” he said at last. “The New Republic isn’t eager to sanction our actions, in any case. But if we can help provide information that will prevent the fall of another world, the choice is clear.”

“I’m willing to go with Talon,” Jaina said.

Kyp made a face. “A seventeen-year-old spice buyer? I doubt the Hutts’ people will buy it.” He looked back at Karrde. “I’ll go. You’ll need someone to sort the truth from the lies.”

“Unlikely,” Karrde said, “but I appreciate the offer.”

“Then count me in, as well,” Ganner said. He glanced at Kyp. “Just to be certain we’re getting the full truth.”

Karrde glanced around him. “It’s settled then?”

Only Jacen remained unconvinced. “Centerpoint, enlistment, espionage … I never thought we’d come to this.”

Kyp Durron grinned and clapped him hard on the shoulder. “Cheer up, kid. Things are bad all over.”