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  Tsavong Lah settled back in his chair and allowed some doubt to become

  evident in his voice. "Of course they are not. We have many gods. But what could

  I have done to offend any of them? I have offered no defiance to them, no

  curses."

  "You have-I suspect you have-neglected some. Offering sacrifices not quite

  in proportion to their greatness. The twin gods, blessed and mighty may their

  names be, give us success, and you celebrate success. But another gave you life,

  and you do not seem to celebrate that life."

  "Yun-Yuuzhan? But his myriad eyes do not focus upon us so closely. So the

  priests say."

  "So some of the priests say. And if they are wrong, if following their

  opinions has angered Yun-Yuuzhan, you might continue to follow their advice

  until it truly does doom you."

  "Some of the priests. Do you know any who preach a different discipline?"

  "I do. He is young, perhaps not known to you. His name is Takhaff Uul."

  "I know of him." Tsavong Lah looked at the join of his arm and considered

  it for a long moment. "I will speak with him. You are dismissed."

  "But I must remain to see the effects of my latest treatment."

  "You have just said that the shaper's arts are not relevant here. Your

  latest treatment will fail. So there is no reason for you to stay and monitor

  that failure." Tsavong Lah gestured toward the exit from the chamber.

  With another bow, Ghithra Dal withdrew. The portal stretched open to permit

  his departure. Before it had closed again, when Ghithra Dal could still hear,

  Tsavong Lah thundered, "Summon Takhaff Uul to me."

  Then it was closed. No one moved to do his bidding. Nor were his guards and

  closest advisers supposed to. They had been carefully instructed in what to do,

  how to act. Takhaff Uul would indeed be summoned... but only in a few minutes.

  Another portal widened and Nen Yim entered at a hurried pace. Once at his

  side, she pulled tool-creatures from her garments and headdress and began

  scraping and prodding at his arm, just at the join, taking flesh, capturing

  flesh-eaters. At any other time, touching him without permission would have been

  a crime punishable by the most ignoble of deaths, but he had instructed her to

  do so, to waste no time with words.

  He ignored her and turned to Denua Ku, who stood as if on guard duty among

  his other bodyguards. "Was it done?"

  Denua Ku bowed his head. "It was. I flung the tracer spineray onto his

  back, and he did not react, did not acknowledge its presence. It will spawn

  within minutes, and its spawn will spread."

  The warmaster nodded, satisfied.

  It was not enough to take the heads of the traitors he already knew and

  suspected. He would have to tear this conspiracy out by the roots so that it

  could not grow again. The agony the conspirators felt in the last weeks of their

  lives, the shame they and their families would bear, would become legendary

  among the Yuuzhan Vong.

  FOUR

  Now a crew of men and women, most of the same species as the tall man but

  some furrier or rounder, labored at the black wall.

  One of them used a flame device like Ryuk s to heat the wall. Then he

  nodded and stepped back, and a woman stepped up and used her own device.

  Whiteness sprayed from the hose she held, the hose attached to the tank on her

  back, and the air got cold, very cold. The whiteness struck the heated stone.

  The stone shrieked. The tall man liked the sound of that.

  But only a small bit of the stone fell free. The tall man picked it up. It

  stung his fingers with lingering heat. It was heavy, far heavier than stone

  should be.

  The man and the woman looked over the tiny crack formed in the wall's

  surface. They made noises at one another. Then the woman, apprehension on her

  face, turned to the tall man, forming images. The tall man reached out and

  plucked them forth.

  The hot-and-cold would succeed, she told him. In a long time.

  What is a long time? he asked. A light and a dark?

  Many lights and darks, she said. Many groundshakes would come and go, the

  plants would make many more buildings fall, small things would grow and old

  things would die.

  The tall man growled, and the woman staggered back from the force of his

  anger.

  But she had another thought, and she forced her way forward to give it to

  him. It was a machine with arms and knobs and treads, and she imagined it

  standing before the wall, using its own cutting flames and pounding knobs to

  shatter the stone.

  With contempt, he dismissed the idea. He imagined himself standing side by

  side with the machine, striking the wall himself, neither of them doing any harm

  to its surface.

  She shook her head, a sign he'd come to understand, and changed his image.

  In it, he became smaller and smaller, until he was nothing but a tiny dot

  standing beside one of the machine's treads.

  He scowled at her, not understanding.

  She showed herself beside him, also tiny, and drew him into her eye$. He

  saw through them as she looked up, and up, and up at the machine.

  He understood, then. He hadn't shrunk. He'd misunderstood. The machine was

  vast, the width of a gap between buildings, as tall as this enormous chamber.

  The tall man laughed. The woman and all the other workers, suffused with

  his humor, also laughed. Weaker than he, they laughed until they coughed,

  laughed until they fell over, while he watched them in good cheer. Only when

  some of them began coughing out blood did he relent.

  He stood over the woman with all the thoughts and made one of her own. In

  it, she found one of those machines and brought it here.

  She nodded, but, too weak to obey immediately, it was minutes before she

  could rise and go about her new errand.

  Borleias

  Jag was waiting for Jaina when she emerged from her briefing with General

  Antilles. "A moment of your time, Great One?" he asked.

  She cocked her head as if considering the demands on her time, then nodded.

  "A moment."

  He led her from the office and gestured down the hall to a little-used

  conference room.

  When they were within, and the door shut behind them, she wrapped her arms

  around his neck, felt his strength as he pulled her to him. She overbalanced

  him, shoving him toward the wall beside the door, and kissed him. The boom of

  Jag's shoulders hitting the wall startled her out of the kiss and she laughed.

  "There goes discretion," Jag said. He smiled, the expression

  characteristically subtle enough to be missed by most observers,

  "Got carried away," she said. "I'd like to be carried away."

  "I have the time if you do."

  She shook her head, regretful. "I have to find a pilot to bring into Twin

  Suns. Your uncle is giving me a B-wing, the same one Lando used to escape from

  the Record Time mission, and 1 need a pilot for it." She gave him a wicked

  smile. "I get to go to anyone I want and see if I can persuade him to leave his

  squadron. Another reason for all the other squadron commanders to hate me."

  "They don't need any more reasons. You're a better pilot than any of them.

  A
nd you're even prettier than Colonel Darklighter of the Rogues."

  She thumped his chest.

  "All right, you're prettier than Captain Reth with the Blackmoons."

  She thumped him harder.

  "Prettier than Wes Janson with the Yellow Aces?"

  "I'm going to break a bone you'll need later."

  He finally grinned, pleased with her reaction to his teasing. "Do you have

  any pilots in mind?"

  "I was thinking of asking Zekk."

  Jag frowned. "He's not that good."

  "Well, he's adequate, and I don't plan for the B-wing to be a major

  contributor to our skirmishes. I'm going to have it fitted as a control station

  for some of my goddess stunts. It'll be a little mobile headquarters."

  "All the more reason to have a top-notch pilot in it. If, it's not going to

  be an assault craft, it needs to be able to dodge and outfly pursuers."

  "Do you have a pilot in mind?"

  He considered, then nodded. "Shuttle pilot named Beelyath. He flies rescue

  missions picking up EV pilots. I've seen him do some pretty good tricks with his

  shuttle and fly into enemy fire to pick up pilots. He was one of the ones who

  helped us retrieve those ejected victims when the Yuuzhan Vong worldship came

  into the system. And he's Mon Cal. I know he has starfighter experience, which

  makes me suspect he has B-wing experience."

  "I'll talk to him." She could feel her spirits sag just a little, could

  feel the smile leave her face. "I have to go. We just can't seem to find much

  time, can we?"

  "Do you have another sixty seconds?"

  "Yes."

  He leaned down for another kiss.

  Yuuzhan Vong Worldship, Coruscant: Orbit

  "Speak," Tsavong Lah said.

  Nen Yim straightened from her bow. "I have subjected the samples I took

  from your arm to analysis."

  "Is my situation favorable?"

  "It is, Warmaster. The cure to your situation is no more complicated than

  refusing any further treatments at the hands of Ghithra Dal. Material I found

  upon your arm, material that must have come from Ghithra Dal touching you,

  inspires the radank leg to continue growing. It is absorbed into your skin and

  carried into the depths of your arm by the carrion-eaters. Remove the material

  and the condition should end."

  "Yet if I were to discontinue treatment at the hands of Ghithra Dal, he

  would know that I suspect him."

  Wisely, Nen Yim chose not to reply. Whether she had an opinion on the

  matter or not, she knew it was not her place to advise the warmaster on matters

  of strategy; any recommendation she could make would not be well received.

  "Can you shape a material that would negate the effects of Ghithra Dai's

  doings while allowing him to continue to treat me?"

  "Perhaps, Warmaster. But the material that coaxes your radank leg to grow

  as it does is very subtle, very complex. It could be that Ghithra Dal has been

  developing it for a very long time. Just having the samples I obtained, being

  able to observe their effects on other radank flesh, is not the same as knowing

  exactly how it works its effects, which is the first step toward counteracting

  it. It could take some considerable time to shape a defensive material. Time, or

  access to Ghithra Dai's shaping chambers."

  Tsavong Lah considered, then nodded. "I will find a way to give you one, if

  not both. Withdraw."

  When she was gone, he allowed himself to revel in an all-too-rare moment of

  simple elation. Doom was not upon him. The gods did not punish him. He faced

  nothing more serious than treachery... and treachery was something he well knew

  how to deal with.

  Less familiar to him was the notion of reward, especially as it applied to

  one who was not Yuuzhan Vong, one who was not a loyal warrior or adviser. "Send

  in Viqi Shesh," he said.

  Viqi entered the chamber, somewhat thrown off her rhythm by the fact that

  her escort guards, instead or staying beside her as she passed through the

  portal, remained behind. She hesitated just within the chamber, her quick glance

  taking in the presence of Tsavong Lah on his seat of command, of his advisers

  and servants staying well away along the walls.

  "Come to me, my servant," the warmaster said.

  Viqi Shesh offered a glowing, though entirely insincere, smile at Tsavong

  Lah and stepped forward to bow before him. She straightened and awaited his

  words, but he offered none until, at his gesture, three Yuuzhan Vong in his

  command chamber departed.

  "I have summoned you," the warmaster said, "to acknowledge that you do

  indeed have worth. Your analysis of the situation with my arm was correct. I was

  afflicted with treachery. I offer you my congratulations."

  Viqi actually felt her knees go weak. It wasn't from relief at being proven

  right. No, the story she'd concocted was supposed to be one that would buy her a

  considerable amount of time to find a way to escape. But she'd been right, the

  conspiracy had been rooted out, and her time was at an end.

  Blast the conspirators. Blast them for existing, for being clumsy enough to

  be detected so early, for fouling up her plan.

  She didn't let her smile waver. "The fact that I am of some service brings

  joy to my heart," she said. "I hope that I shall continue to be of worth to you.

  "

  "You shall. And for your next assignment, you will travel to Coruscant,

  below us. Yuuzhan Vong warriors have died there, and the burns that killed them

  suggest strongly that Jeedai are the culprits. You will go with Denua Ku and

  join a search unit there-a unit of warriors, and even our remaining voxyn. They

  may be dying off, but they can still hunt Jeedai. You will offer your insights

  to the warriors, who will run the Jeedai to ground. You will have the

  opportunity to distinguish yourself further in my service."

  Words nearly failed her. On an expedition into the ruined world's depths,

  she'd be watched at least as closely as she had been observed here. She'd be

  forced to travel with a fast-moving pack of idiot warriors, running her into

  exhaustion. Dirt and sweat would be her companions. And voxyn-the thought of

  being within kilometers of the ferocious creatures was terrifying.

  She offered the warmaster her most alluring smile and bowed again. The

  gesture gave her time to find her voice. "I live to obey, Warmaster."

  Vannix, Vankalay System

  "Will you be offering your political support to Senator Gadan?" The old

  woman was stiff-backed, as alert as a hawk-bat on the lookout for prey, and the

  downiness of her white hair, which should have softened her appearance, should

  have made her grandmotherly, instead gave her the aspect of some mad Force-

  wizard from a scary bedtime story. Too, the jagged scar zigzagging across her

  forehead, which hinted at a fractured skull or even brain damage in some long-

  ago battle, was hardly reassuring.

  "Addath enjoys my every confidence..." Leia said, her voice smooth. Han

  waited, though, because he could detect the unspoken hut at the end of her

  statement.

  Admiral Apelben Werl offered up a faint, exasperated sigh, and leaned back

  in her chair. Her expression suggested that, though this
meeting was not over,

  no further part of it had any purpose.

  "... personally," Leia concluded.

  The admiral gave her a closer look. "And professionally? Politically?"

  "Professionally, I favor the harshest possible resistance to the Yuuzhan

  Vong."

  "Really." The admiral suddenly did not look as forbidding. "I have no

  talent for deception, so I'll ask straight out. What would it take to persuade

  you to lend me your support in this campaign? To help swing the population's

  vote toward defense and away from appeasement?"

  That was, in fact, exactly what Han and Leia had come to offer-a present of

  public support from the famous Solos.

  Leia opened her mouth to make that statement, but Han cut her off. "That's

  what i'd like to ask you. What would it take? What do you have?"

  The admiral smiled. It was the expression of an experienced bantha trader.

  "Are you looking for weapons? Vehicles? I suspect that Borleias is already far

  better supplied than I am."

  "We're looking for surprises" Han said. "The Vong are going to hit us like

  an asteroid bombardment. Ultimately they're going to take Borleias and then

  begin swarming out in all directions again. What can you give us to make their

  conquest of Borleias worse for them? What can you give us that they won't

  expect?"

  Leia kept her mouth shut. She gave Han a sidelong look. He expected it to

  be an angry one, but he was wrong; she was curious, evaluating.

  "How are the Yuuzhan Vong fixed for naval warfare?" the admiral asked.

  Han frowned. "Space navy?"

  "Water navy."

  "Umm, I know they have some aquatic creatures - transports. And creatures

  that allow someone to breathe underwater. But we haven't been faced with any

  significant water-based assaults."

  "Meaning they might not have any, or they might still have them in reserve.

  " The admiral leaned back. She rested her elbows on the arms of her padded

  chair, placing her fingertips together before her as if to suggest a sharply

  sloped roof. "I've spent the better part of my military career upgrading our

  armed forces to deal with external threats rather than internal ones. Meaning