Chapter 43

Nen Yim stared at the hulking piece of infidel blasphemy that would most likely become her tomb. No intelligent, rational commander was going to allow her to land that on a worldship. This plan of Luke's, it was folly. But what other choice did she have? "This is madness," she muttered with a resigned air.

"I agree," Cilghal said. "But crazier plans have succeeded. Who would have ever thought one X-wing with assistance from a dilapidated Corellian light freighter could have destroyed the Death Star?"

"The what?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"The Death Star," Cilghal said matter-of-factly, running a webbed finger over the hull of the newly refurbished ship. "It was a huge space station, I guess about the size of one of your worldships. It had the power to destroy a planet with one laser blast."

Nen Yim snorted, unimpressed. "Our dovin basals have been known to do much worse."

"Alas, our galaxy is no stranger to worse terrors as well," Cilghal continued.

"Such as what?" Nen Yim questioned, not sure why she wanted to know.

"The Sun Crusher, for one," Cilghal said. "One of our own Jedi, while in the clutches of the dark side, used it to make a star go supernova. It killed billions."

Nen Yim's heart skipped a beat. So it was true. The infidels did have the power to destroy a star. With those simple words the final nail in the Yuuzhan Vong's coffin was hammered in. There was no hope for them if she didn't succeed. Their fate rested with her. Totally. "Great gods," she whispered, feeling suddenly faint.

"What is it?" Cilghal asked, taking her arm and easing her to the floor, then sitting beside her.

"How? How can you destroy a star? Could you replicate this? Will you use it against us?" she stammered, hoping against hope that if they still had the ability to do so they already would have.

"I suppose a duplicate of the Sun Crusher could be made," Cilghal mused. "But the Jedi would never support it. It is too dangerous of a weapon, and if given into the wrong hands spells doom for all of us."

The shaper breathed a silent thanks to Yun-Yuuzhan, but only felt slightly less shaky. "That is a good thing."

"Yes," the Jedi healer said thoughtfully. "I suppose it is. But why does it matter?"

"There would be no hope for the Yuuzhan Vong if such weapons were available to you. But since it is within the range of your capabilities, I know now that I must succeed. Failure is death, for us all."

Cilghal cocked her huge pinkish head in thought. "Would all Yuuzhan Vong be as afraid of the Sun Crusher as you are?"

Nen Yim nodded sadly. She didn't like where this was going. She had agreed to this only so that at least a portion of her people might survive the war. She would go back to them, tell Nom Anor and the Supreme Overlord that she had triumphed and the greatest of the Jeedai were dead. Luke and Mara would stay out of the public's eye, not be seen again till the war was over. To the intendants planted across the galaxy it would seem that she had done as she said. The lack of Holonet coverage could be explained away on Jeedai arrogance. The New Republic would not want the citizens of the galaxy to know that their greatest hero had been slain. All the while the crafty shaper would spread dissent, mostly among the lower ranks. She would tell them what she had seen, and that when the time was right they should rise up against the warrior caste if they wanted to live. But with the Sun Crusher, none of this would be relevant or needed.

"This could work to our advantage," Cilghal said, standing.

"No," Nen Yim said. "I will not let you."

Slowly she shook her head. "You misunderstand me. Tell those who will listen that we have such a power. Fear may drive them to acquiesce. If all hope is gone, what other choice do they have?"

"They will kill themselves before they will surrender to you," Nen Yim stated flatly.

"Even the Shamed Ones? If you promise them that they will find themselves equals among us, that they won't be ridiculed and beaten and treated as beasts of burden... don't you think they'll do as you say?"

Nen Yim looked around warily. It could work. Fear was a useful tool, as was the promise of power. It had long been known that those of the lower ranks would do anything to exalt themselves above their masters. Perhaps this would be their chance. For Nen Yim, however, it was not the ideal situation. She did not see herself living the rest of her days with Shamed Ones. It was distasteful in the extreme. Would her ploy work on those higher up? Other shapers, priests? She held no hope for the warriors. They would kill themselves, or throw themselves in a headlong bloodbath against the New Republic that would do more harm than good. But perhaps, with a little help, she could convince those of her own caste, possibly the priests. Yes, it could work.

"I think the Shamed Ones will jump at the chance to bring themselves equal with their governors. As for the others...I must try, no matter. Yes, this Sun Crusher, it will be good leverage," she nodded sagely.

Cilghal smiled and stood, and extended her hand to Nen Yim. Almost without thinking she took it, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "Then we must go and tell the others, so we can prepare."

"I don't like this," Anakin said. "There has to be a better way."

"I know, Anakin, lying to Jaina isn't the smartest move we could make. But it's necessary, especially if our communication lines are tapped like Nen Yim assures us they are," Luke said. "If she knew it could mean the success of Nen Yim's mission I'm sure Jaina would think it was worth it. I hate worrying her, it goes against my every instinct, but she's a smart girl. She'll find out in time."

Anakin turned to look at the holorecorder, currently switched off. "She's going to kill me."

"Don't worry," Mara said with a smirk, "if it's a lightsaber fight I'm pretty sure you can take her. She still doesn't practice like she needs to."

"I don't think she'll believe me, anyway. I'm no Face Loran," Anakin said unenthusiastically.

"You'll do fine," Luke said, patting him on the shoulder. "I just hope she can forgive us. I can't believe we're deceiving her like this. I know that it's the best thing, but I don't like it either. Just get it over with, Anakin."

With a sigh the young Jedi turned to the holoprojector and flipped it on. "Here goes nothing."

Jaina's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding. One hand went immediately to her stomach, the other to the lightsaber she kept under her pillow. A half second later she heard Jag stand, moving to the transponder in the corner of their room. "What is it?" she gasped into the dark. A feeling of dread had settled on her, and she couldn't shake it off. Something bad had happened, she just knew it.

"It's just the comm unit," he said soothingly. "They're probably having some mini-emergency on the Valorous that one of my subordinates should be taking care of. Don't worry, go back to sleep."

His words did nothing. She was already rolling out of bed in a flurry of angry sheets, her hair twirling about her like a messy halo. Desperation settled on her shoulders, weighing down her heart like an anchor. Something bad had happened. "Let me see," she gasped, pushing him unceremoniously out of the way. As she sat at the desk, fingers typing in the authorization codes she knew by heart, she reached out with the Force to Hanna. She was startled, a little afraid from the emotions Jaina was giving off, but otherwise fine. Jaina wrapped her in a cocoon on protectiveness, shooing away all the bad emotions until her child felt safe and loved again.

Finally the comm unit whirred and clicked, then an image of her youngest brother appeared before her. He looked harried and stricken, eyes bloodshot and moist. Jaina barely breathed as she waited for the message to play. "Jaina, I don't know what to do," he began. "She's gone, and they're dying—I just don't know what to do."

"Who's dying?!" she screamed at the hologram, even though she knew it was a recording and he couldn't hear her.

He looked around anxiously, the tears in his eyes finally brimming over onto his cheeks. "Aunt Mara's already gone, Cilghal and Uncle Luke are fading fast. I told them not to do it, but they wouldn't listen! Jaina, they were just so eager to find a cure... and Nen Yim's already gone! We searched the whole ship, the only thing we can figure is that she stole a freighter."

He collapsed momentarily, lowering his chin to his chest and shuddering as he wept. After a moment he raised his head, the firm set of his jaw letting her know he had at least temporarily regained his composure. "I can't help them, nothing is helping. They're slipping... Jaina, you have to come back! I just don't know what to do, I need you to help me. Please, hurry, before it's too late." The image fizzled quietly into nothingness.

Jaina leaned back in her chair, grief overcoming her like a tidal wave she was powerless to hold at bay. Jag dropped to his knees beside her, wrapping both arms around her shoulders and pulling her to him. Jaina sobbed quietly, pressing her face against his shoulder. She couldn't lose Uncle Luke, he was her strength, her idol, her father. He had filled the void in her life without Han, he had raised her, loved her, protected her. How could she ever feel safe again if he died?

"We have to go to him," she stammered, pulling away from her husband and attempting to stand. "Come on, hurry, we have to hurry!" She grabbed at his hand that kept trying to pull her back down and tugged, trying to get him to realize the urgency.

"Jaina," he said softly. "Honey, don't do this. Come on, think for a second—"

"I am thinking!" she shouted. She ran to their closet and began throwing their belongings into a suitcase. "You aren't helping me!"

"Jaina," he said, but she continued to throw their clothes into the baggage in messy heaps. Finally he took her roughly by the shoulders and pulled her into an embrace, pinning her arms to her sides. She struggled for a moment, then collapsed into a sobbing heap against him. "I know," he said softly. "I know. Just...just listen a minute, okay?"

"What?" she hiccuped.

"Can we know that that was really Anakin?"

"Of course it was Anakin! Didn't you see—"

"I saw," he cut her off. "But Luke and Mara and Cilghal are reasonable people. Rational. Would they do something like that, especially with Anakin there trying to talk them out of it? Things don't add up, Jaina. What does the Force tell you?"

Jaina slowly calmed her mind, clearing it of all thoughts in a Jedi relaxation technique. Slowly she reached out to Jacen. He had always been the one to pick her up when she was down, and she could only pray he would do it again. She found him blissfully asleep and unaware. If Uncle Luke was dying and Aunt Mara dead, wouldn't he have felt it? Had she felt it? No, she supposed not. It had been more like an uneasy dread that could have been a biproduct of her danger sense. It could have been letting her know she was about to hear something she didn't want to.

What about Uncle Luke himself? She stretched further, hunting vigorously for him in the void between the stars. He wasn't hard to find. The Force shown in him like a star, a beacon in the darkness that all things were drawn to. And he was alive.

Her legs suddenly lost the ability to hold her upright, and she half-sat half-fell onto their bed. "He lied to me," she whispered.

Jag knelt in front if her, taking her hand in his own. "How do you know it was even Anakin?"

"It was," she said staunchly. "I know my brother. But why would he do something so terrible to me?"

"There has to be a reason," Jag said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. "What could it be?"

Jaina slowly shook her head. "What would be the point of sending me something like this?"

"Maybe," Jag said slowly, "they needed you to be convinced they were dead so that others would be convinced they were dead."

Slowly the light began to shine in Jaina's mind, her numb brain regaining it's thought processes. "If that's what it is, I need to do my job and play my part."

"You mean act like they're dead?"

"Yeah," she said. "We can't tell people though, because everyone will be mad when we tell them they're actually alive. Anakin said to come back...maybe if we do go back it will seem to anyone watching that I believe what they've sent me."

"What about the meeting tomorrow?"

Jaina stood, now fully recovered from the brief trauma. "I'll send Jacen."

"Jacen isn't an emissary of the Empire," he said.

"No, but he's my brother, and I trust that he'll do and say everything right," she explained, taking their belongings out of the baggage, folding them, and repacking. "Either way, we have to go. They would never do this to me if it wasn't completely essential to whatever they're doing."

"I hope it's not something we're going to regret them not consulting us on later," Jag said, helping her pack.

"Me too. Can you finish here while I call Jacen? No, I better not, if someone heard it would ruin the charade. I'll just tell him to come over."

"Should I wake Wedge and Iella?"

"Probably," she agreed, "it is their apartment. We need still need to hurry, though, when we leave out of here it has to look frantic."

"I think running out of the apartment in our nightclothes with piles of suitcases and your brother close behind will be quite sufficient enough to convince whoever it is that's supposed to be interested."

"Anakin, I haven't seen a holodrama with a more convincing performance in years. You would make Face proud," Mara said, the esteem in her voice evidence. As a former spy and assassin herself, talent in such areas were often the only thing that ever seemed to impress her.

"Thanks, I guess," Anakin said nervously. "I hope it wasn't too convincing. I want the Vong to believe it, but hopefully Jaina will catch on."

"Even if she doesn't, she'll be too relieved when she finds out we're alive to think about killing you," Cilghal laughed lightly.

"Don't count on it," Anakin said.

"Well, there's nothing left to do but set our shaper friend on her way," Luke interrupted, all eyes turning to Nen Yim.

"Thank you for the opportunities you have given me and my people," she said solemnly. "I will do my best to make this plan a success."

"May the Force be with you," Luke murmured softly. Even though no one their was blind to the irony of the statement, they all echoed his farewell.

"And may Yun-Yuuzhan look kindly upon us all," she replied.

"If we don't see you again," Mara said, laying a hand on the tattooed shoulder, "thank you for the antidote to my disease, and for giving my child a chance at life."

Looking uncomfortable, the Yuuzhan Vong nodded curtly, brushing off the thank-yous. "If that is all, take me to the vessel. I am eager to finish this."