Rebel Stand Page 12

  "It came out when circumstances started killing my children."

  "So. What options do you leave me with?"

  "You have two options. You can stay on Vannix, and within the next three

  hours Fasald will broadcast her report. Dealing with subsequent arrest and mobs

  is up to you. Or you can flee the residence and find yourself passage offworld

  by dawn. In which case Fasald will give you a full day to get to freedom, then

  broadcast her report. Either way, she broadcasts. I couldn't persuade her

  otherwise." Leia plucked the data card from Addath's fingers. "I'll get this

  back to the admiral." Addath felt her smile grow bitter. "So you and your

  husband sold your services to the admiral for, what was it, two squadrons and a

  light carrier?"

  A frown creased Leia's brow. "No. We were going to help her from the moment

  we arrived. The only thing she promised us was some antiquated sea navy

  equipment, decomissioned vessels."

  "Then what-"

  "Oh, the squadrons were what General Antilles promised Han if he'd come

  back now and accept a military commission. Han had a holocomm conversation with

  Wedge while he was running errands this afternoon. The whole conversation is

  recorded. I can let you watch it."

  Addath nodded glumly. "1 see."

  "But I now suspect that Han will decline the commission. He likes being a

  civilian. A scoundrel."

  "Of course. Quite an extensive setup." Wearily, Addath turned away. "I'll

  be leaving. Perhaps the former Presider would like some additional company."

  "There's a guest at the front gates of the residence. A member of Fasald's

  staff. She'll be accompanying you until you board your ship offworld. Helping

  you keep track of details."

  "I appreciate your thoroughness, Leia. You think of everything."

  Left alone on the porch, Leia watched Addath walk away and took stock of

  her feelings.

  She almost felt bad for Addath. Watching a person's whole store of hopes

  and dreams go up in flames wasn't pleasant.

  But Addath was no fool. She could analyze the Yuu-zhan Vong's relationship

  with "allied" worlds as well as anyone else. Addath simply could not give up the

  reins of power, and would hold them in clenched hands, whatever the cost. Since

  a military opposition to the Yuuzhan Vong meant handing too much power to

  others, she was willing to steer this world into eventual oblivion... just so

  long as she was in control until that final moment.

  Whether it was by denying the truth even to herself or by cold-bloodedly

  selling the population of an entire world into slavery and death, Addath had

  made the wrong choice, and her influence had to be eliminated.

  Leia decided that she felt neither sadness nor joy-just satisfaction with a

  job well done. She turned to rejoin her husband, who would understand.

  Coruscant

  It took only a few hours for Luke and his companions to search the

  remainder of the scientific station, for Kell and Elassar to locate the other

  end of the massive being's escape path and weld a heavy metal sheet across it,

  for Bhindi to get some of the computers operating and extract information from

  them.

  Bhindi gathered them in an open area on the top level-an area, Kell pointed

  out, that he had laboriously cleaned and emptied of machinery parts until it was

  fit for occupation-to give them her evaluation. It was now set up with chairs-

  made of some antiquated plastic material and curved in artistic patterns that

  Luke thought he'd once seen in a museum display, combining coin-fort with dated

  pretension-and one functional medical droid that Bhindi had assembled from parts

  of several damaged ones. The repairs had not been completely successful; the

  droid walked with a wobble caused by the fact that its right lower leg section

  was identical to its left, throwing it a bit off-balance.

  "What we have here," Bhindi said, "is two different scientific stations put

  together. Both of them operations of Imperial Intelligence, the first of them

  dating from about fifty years ago, though this complex has been here for

  centuries. And this is CPD-One-Thirteen, who has been here since the

  commencement of this station's third stage of operation. One-Thirteen?"

  "Greetings," the droid said. Its voice was thin, cultured, with a distinct

  Coruscant accent. "You are all intruders. Prepare to die." it turned to look

  across all its visitors.

  "This is the part where the military droids jump out of their niches and

  kill us all," Bhindi said. She reached over and fiddled with the restraining

  bolt plugged into the droid's chest. "One-Thirteen, our continued presence here

  is proof that we are authorized personnel."

  "That is correct," the droid said. "I am CPD One-Thirteen, medical droid,

  optimized for suspended life process maintenance. You are all intruders here.

  Prepare to die."

  "What is this complex?" Mara asked.

  CPD 1-13 stood more upright, and his voice became cheerier. "Welcome to the

  Pasarian Memorial Atmospheric Reclamation Complex Project, Substation One,

  formerly the Coruscant Atmospheric Reclamation-"

  "Quiet," Bhindi interrupted. I'll synopsize."

  "If you must."

  Bhindi glared at 1-13 and he slumped. "The Complex," she continued, "all

  its various substations put together, is a sort of worldwide air-scrubber. Quite

  a while back, once Coruscant's leaders built over the last forested regions, the

  planet lacked sufficient natural resources to manage the atmospheric pollutants

  produced by the world's industrialized species. The government had that covered,

  though, in building a series of very efficient facilities that converted carbon

  dioxide into oxygen, removed waste gases, that sort of thing. That 'red goo'

  several stories up doesn't just act as a devourer tank. It's a variant of the

  devourer organism, especially engineered for high-efficiency conversion of

  carbon dioxide to oxygen. It functions with the same efficiency as several

  thousand square kilometers of tract forest. And there are hundreds of similar

  substations all over Coruscant. Well, there were. Some may be damaged or

  destroyed now, but most were built at bedrock level. Lots of them could have

  survived so far."

  "Wait, wait." Luke frowned. "They have to have some sort of active air-

  pumping mechanism."

  "That's correct-"

  "You are all intruders. Prepare to die."

  Grimacing, Bhindi did something to the droid's restraining bolt. CPD 1-33

  jerked as if electrocuted each time. "Each station," Bhindi continued, "is

  attached to an elaborate network of intake and output ducts. In with the bad

  air, out with the good. And it's those ducts that are most likely to have failed

  planetwide with the destruction Coruscant is experiencing. But the thing is,

  each one of those stations could serve as a resistance center-if I can get to it

  and get into it."

  Face gave her a disbelieving look. "Are they all secret, like this one?"

  "Everyone."

  "Why?"

  "That was the second stage of the operation." Bhindi stared forbiddingly at

  1-13. "Think you can give them some history... without death threats?"

>   "I have made no threats. Only announcements of impending doom." CPD 1-13

  straightened. "The second state of this complex, according to the maintenance

  droids that preceded me here, began with the gradual elimination, through

  retirement and transfer, of all living personnel who operated this station; they

  were replaced by droids. Then, once the station had been operated entirely by

  droids for several years, its reclamation organisms tank was disguised as a

  devourer tank and the operation center was hidden away, accessible only by a

  secure turobolift."

  "By whom, and for what purpose?" Face asked.

  "By order of the Imperial government, and for the purpose of being able to

  exert control over this planetary environment in times of crisis."

  Luke raised an eyebrow over that. "Exert control. You mean, in times of

  revolution, he'd cut off the air?"

  "That is correct. Should the Emperor need to regain control or merely cause

  billions to die, he could threaten to shut off the Complex and strangle

  Coruscant in its own wastes."

  "Merely cause billions to die." Luke shook his head over that turn of

  phrase. "This doesn't conflict with your medical programming?"

  "Oh, no, sir. Implementation of such an operation would be at the Emperor's

  sole discretion and by his own hand."

  Face managed a mirthless smile. "No matter what, any time I learn something

  more about Emperor Palpa-tine, I wish I hadn't."

  "So what was the third stage?" Luke asked. "Installation of the systems and

  organisms needed to maintain the Subject," said CPD 1-13 "It was an operation

  that had no significant relation to our primary purpose, but this location, the

  substation closest to the Imperial government centers, was convenient."

  Luke tried to wave the excess verbiage away. "What was the Subject?"

  "A human male. He and a human female came to occupy this complex thirteen

  years ago. Later, another male joined them for a time. They had proper

  authorization, and controlled droids that could activate the turbo-Hft control

  in the tank above. Months after their arrival, the second male left, and the

  first male was operated on and installed in the suspended-animation unit."

  "Human males don't grow to be three meters tall."

  "They do if subjected to specific growth hormones and cybernetic

  stimulation for years starting in childhood or adolescence."

  "So who is this human male?"

  "Unknown, sir. His identity was never provided to us, nor the nature of its

  armor modifications." Before Luke could ask, the droid hurried on, "It had

  hypoallergenk: armor plates installed in its torso, head, elbows, and knees. The

  portions of its brain pertaining to human memory were largely replaced by

  computer apparatus. We of the maintenance staff concluded that it was to be a

  war machine of some sort, but beyond that we knew nothing."

  "Do you have any images of this? Either from before, or when it recently

  emerged?"

  1-13 shook its head. "No, sir. We were forbidden by our protocols from

  recording the Subject in any way. Nor do I know what you mean by 'emerged.' r

  Curious, Luke glanced at Bhindi. She said, "It appears that their

  programming on this point was pretty comprehensive. When the Subject came out of

  his suspended animation tank, their programming kicked in and they couldn't even

  detect him any longer. He cut them to pieces without them knowing what was

  happening."

  "Wonderful," Luke said. "So our so-called Lord Nyax is a three-meter human

  male, possibly a Jedi, certainly a Force user, wandering around in a world where

  it probably doesn't understand anything."

  "That seems to be about the size of it," Bhindi said. "Isn't the truth

  liberating?"

  SEVEN

  Lord Nyax felt the distant hunger. Something wanted him.

  That was all right. He wanted it, too. Anything that was so anxious for him

  deserved to he encountered. If it would serve him, he would command it. If it

  would not serve him, he would cut it into pieces.

  Either solution was just fine with him.

  Coruscant

  The hunting party moved through the depths of Cor-uscant's ruins. Four

  hard-eyed warriors, the scars, implants, and tattoos on their faces like a

  starmap of pain, led the procession, and four more brought up the rear.

  Behind those in front were two voxyn handlers and the leashed voxyn they

  theoretically controlled. The massive reptilian beasts, low to the ground and

  rippling with Muscle, moved their heads back and forth with every few steps, as

  though they could see through the wreckage around them and view potential

  victims hiding before them.

  Viqi, walking alongside Denua Ku behind them, shuddered. The voxyn were the

  most ill-tempered and evil things she had ever encountered, Yuuzhan Vong

  included. At least the Vong could reason, even if their logic was alien. The

  voxyn had been cloned to sense the Force, to hunt and kill Force-wielders. Many

  Jedi had fallen to their fangs, their teeth, the corrosive stomach acid they

  could bring up at a moment's notice.

  These voxyn didn't look particularly healthy. In places their dark green

  scales were fading to a yellow that reminded Viqi of plants withering from lack

  of sunlight. Though they were alert and had lost none of their intensity, their

  movements often seemed listless.

  Not that Viqi would have dared to venture within reach of their teeth or

  claws. She suspected that either of them would bite her in two just to hear the

  clack of their teeth meeting in the middle.

  The party neared the end of a lengthy access corridor. Ahead, a hole in the

  building's exterior wall admitted dim sunlight and a breeze. Two Yuuzhan Vong

  warriors, novices from the lack of decoration their faces carried, stood on

  duty, one to either side of the gap.

  Raglath Nur, the leader of the hunting party, addressed them. Viqi didn't

  bother to listen. She knew they'd address her if they needed her. She was

  correct; after less than a minute, Raglath Nur beckoned her forward, to the very

  lip of the hole; Viqi could lean out and see countless stories of crumbling

  habitat beneath her, and a simple step forward would send her falling to her

  death.

  "This warrior," Raglath Nur said, indicating the novice warrior on the

  right side, "saw the walkway fall; he was a great distance away. First it

  erupted in flames as though from one of the infidel torpedoes, then it fell.

  Searching, he found bodies below-burned, some of them in pieces.

  Explain."

  "If he didn't see a starfighter fire a missile or torpedo, then it was

  probably a bomb," Viqi said, indifferent to his curiosity. "Something like a

  torpedo, but carried by a man, put into position, and then persuaded to explode

  a few seconds later-seconds in which the one who planted it runs to safety."

  "And?"

  "And what?"

  Raglath Nur drew a hand back as if to strike her. Viqi steeled herself

  against the blow. But Denua Ku positioned his amphistaff between them. "He

  means, what do you conclude?" Denua Ku said. "You are here for your knowledge of

  infidels, their tactics."

  "Yes, yes
." Viqi fumed, but thought about it. "The bomb didn't just blow a

  hole in the walkway. It took the whole thing down and singed both edges. I

  conclude that it wasn't an improvised weapon. Either the people who did it had

  access to military equipment, or they're proficient at building such things.

  This suggests that they're not ordinary survivors-they're elites of some sort."

  "Jeedai?" asked Raglath Nur.

  Viqi shook her head. "I don't know if Jedi are among them, but Jedi don't

  normally use high explosives. So this was something different, or something

  additional."

  "What else?"

  "If I were in their situation and had to use an explosive device-something

  sure to give away my position-I'd move away from here very fast, to elude any

  Yuuzhan Vong parties that came to investigate. Meaning that if we can figure out

  the route they took, we could search it thoroughly and see if they dropped

  anything. If they dropped something, we might obtain more information."

  "How will we know the difference between an infidel object left here by the

  planet-dwellers and one dropped by your 'elites'?"

  Viqi shrugged. "I will know," she lied.

  The party's searches turned up no objects that Viqi felt had been dropped

  by their prey. But as they reached the next building over in the direction the

  trackers felt the infidels had traveled, the voxyn became more alert. They left

  off the eternal, searching sweeps of their heads; instead, they both stared in

  one direction, outward and downward, the muscles of their necks tense, while

  their tails began to lash.

  Raglath Nur allowed the voxyn and their handlers to take the lead. The

  voxyn led them at a quickened pace; Viqi had to struggle to keep up, and was

  often prodded by Denua Ku when he felt her progress was not sufficient. But the

  voxyn did not understand the city's architecture, and it required the Yuuzhan

  Vong, and sometimes Viqi, to guide them down stairwells, ramps, and even

  turbolift shafts as they rushed toward their prey.

  Deeper and deeper they descended into the ruins, and when they had not run

  down their prey within half an hour, Raglath Nur demanded, "Is our quarry