she said. "Naturally, we trust the Force."

Chapter 9.

Surrounded by rainbows, the great shadow descended in majesty from the sky. Like the wings of a b.u.t.terfly just emerged from its coc.o.o.n, enormous wings slowly unfolded from the great craft. Rainbow colors pulsed and swam.

"Do-ro'ik vong pratte!" The roar came from ten thousand throats.

The perfect rectangular formation of warriors, in their vonduun crab armor, raised their amphistaffs and roared their battle cry as the shadow of the craft pa.s.sed over them.

"Taan Yun-forqana zhoi!" Ten thousand priests, in red cloaks emblazoned with the symbol of Yun-Yuuzhan, crossed their arms in salute and roared their devotion as the vessel's shadow enveloped them.

"Fy'y Roog! Fy'y Roog!" Ten thousand members of the shaper cla.s.s, dressed in stainless white, howled their pride, fear, and obedience as the belly of the great craft pa.s.sed over them.

Beyond the three giant formations of priests, warriors, and shapers, ma.s.sed workers cried nothing, but simply flung themselves onto their faces, groveling in submission to the great shadow as it pa.s.sed before the sun.

Shamed Ones, mutilated and crippled and barred from the ceremony, hid in their barracks or workhouses and shivered in fear.

The smallest group, the twelve hundred members of the intendant cla.s.s, stood motionless in three long lines in front of the three larger formations of Yuuzhan Vong, each member in his long green cloak. They did not shout, but stood in perfectly disciplined silence, arms crossed over their chests, as the ma.s.sive craft moved silently overhead.

If we had a battle cry, thought Nom Anor from the second rank, it would probably be Have you triple-checked this order with your superiors'? For it was the intendants who administered the new empire of the Yuuzhan Vong, and tried to balance the competing claims for resources among the other castes. A task that grew harder, it seemed, even as victory followed victory and more resources became available.

For years now, since before the time he had poisoned Imperial Interim Ruling Council members in the cause of Xandel Carivus, Nom Anor had been living among the enemy as a spy and saboteur. In the service of the Yuuzhan Vong, he had spun his treachery and left a trail of bodies across half the galaxy.

It had almost been enough to forget that the normal job of an intendant was a bureaucratic one.

Rainbows spiraled off the craft's great unfolded wings, dovin basals with their s.p.a.ce-warping capabilities tuned to the spectrum of light. The great shadow hovered over the ma.s.sive cradle that had been built for it, then slowly, majestically, descended.

Another great cry roared up from the triumphant mult.i.tude as the huge craft settled into its cradle like a monarch slowly sitting on his throne. Dazzling, spinning rainbows reached into the heavens, cast brilliant light onto the plaza where the Yuuzhan Vong ma.s.ses waited.

Beneath the ship, hidden from view, the living craft and the living cradle joined, linking power and communications and resource systems so that the craft now drew its nourishment from the planet, and the Supreme Overlord was in direct contact with the World Brain, the dhuryam that controlled the remaking of Yuuzhan'tar, formerly known as Coruscant, capital of both the New and Old Republics.

The Supreme Overlord's craft, ship and palace in one, was now joined with its cradle, just as the s.p.a.ceborn Yuuzhan Vong had settled onto the conquered worlds that their G.o.ds had promised diem. The craft would remain here permanently, its rainbow-edged wings outstretched over this world the Yuuzhan Vong had conquered. The conquered world would be altered from the bedrock up to re-create the legendary homeworld of the Yuuzhan Vong, lost long ago in another galaxy.

At the moment the shout went up, Nom Anor began to feel an itching at the base of his toes. He resisted the impulse to bend and scratch, or to sc.r.a.pe one boot over the other. The Yuuzhan Vong did not regard bodily discomfort as significant. Only those who had most successfully embraced pain and mutilation were promoted to the highest degrees. Surely an itch could be overcome.

As if to dispute this claim, the itch increased its fury. Nom Anor found that it was all he could do to keep his mind on the ceremony, on the ritual steps and obeisances that prepared the way for the appearance of the Supreme Overlord.

He panted with the effort to ignore the itch. He alternately stretched and clenched his toes inside his boots, hoping the effort might relieve his torment. It didn't.

Another roar went up from the crowd. Through his single, rainbow-dazzled eye, Nom Anor saw two figures on the summit of the great building.

Shimrra's personal quarters arched up above the plaza like a head on the end of a long neck. At the apex was a circular walkway surrounded by a rail that glittered like mother-of-pearl in the artificial rainbows.

Standing amid the brilliance was Supreme Overlord Shimrra, unquestioned leader of the Yuuzhan Vong, sanctioned by the G.o.ds to bring all these new worlds under his heel. Norn Anor's eye was so dazzled by rainbows that he could see nothing of Shimrra but a silhouette--a giant silhouette, towering over the bent, ungainly figure next to him. Onimi, apparently, a member of the Shamed Ones whom the Supreme Overlord had adopted as his familiar.

As Shimrra's loyal subjects bellowed their triumph, several mon duuls waddled out from the shadow of the building. Giant, placid beings weighing four metric tons or more, the creatures had been implanted with specialized, dedicated villips by the shapers who had crafted them, villips that enabled them to receive communications from a master villip employed by the Supreme Overlord. Each mon duul, on receiving a message, could then broadcast it to others in its vicinity through the use of a giant two-meter tympanum of skin that stretched over its belly.

The mon duuls spread out over the plaza, then sat back on their haunches, their tympani directed toward the formations of Yuuzhan Vong.

Nom Anor could hear joints cracking as the nearest of the ma.s.sive creatures settled itself into an upright posture.

The Supreme Overlord's voice, amplified by the tympani in the mon duuls, echoed and reechoed over the plaza, and for a moment Nom Anor forgot his aggravating itch.

"Yuuzhan Vong, conquerors, blessed of the G.o.ds! "Shimrra. roared.

ccWe have come to the turning point!"

Luke found out the next afternoon why Fyor Rodan had behaved in such an extraordinary way at their meeting. Rodan hadn't been having a conversation; he'd been rehearsing a speech.

"He laid it all out before the Senate this morning," Cal Omas said.

"His whole program-the Jedi shouldn't be a privileged group within the state, we should stop spending money on Jedi concerns, a new Jedi Council would be a threat. . ."

"Jedi should just get jobs like every other working stiff," Mara added. Cal laughed.

"How was the speech received?" Luke asked.

Cal Omas clasped his lanky arms behind his head. "I imagine it went down well with the working stiffs. As for the Senators, some agreed, some didn't, some saw it only in political terms. Since Fyor made no motion, just stood up in the Senate and gave his speech and made sure there were plenty of reporters there to cover it, there wasn't a head count one way or another."

"So why did he make the speech at all?"

Triebakk, the Wookiee who served with both Omas and Rodan on the Advisory Council, gave a long series of roars, all translated by the elderly protocol droid that Cal used for a secretary. "He spoke in order to make the Jedi an issue in the upcoming election. Now that he has made his speech, Cal and the other candidates arc forced to respond."

"Whether they want to or not," Luke said.

"Precisely," Cal said. "Fyor's started up a tune, and the rest of us will have to dance to it."

Cal Omas's apartment was cramped and underwater, though built with the usual Mon Calamari attention to elegant design, which made it seem larger than it actually was. A transparent wall looked out onto the floodlit inverted cityscape of Heurkea Floating City, showing Mon Cals and Quarren swimming past or jetting by in their vehicles. Unfortunately, the transparent wall sweated heavily, the air was dank and tasted of brine, the carpet was soggy, and the small sofa that Luke and Mara shared gave off a distinct smell of mildew. There was no security. Cal's protocol droid was beginning to show rust stains. Still, Cal's place was better than most refugees' quarters, and a testimony to his character-he had refused to pull rank and demand better quarters for himself.

Such were the circ.u.mstances of the man whom Luke hoped would be the next Chief of State of the New Republic. Even Fyor Rodan's cramped, overflowing hotel suite was more impressive than this.

"I made a response to Fyor's speech," Cal went on. "I said that anyone who had fought alongside the Jedi in the war against Palpatine would never believe that they were a threat to the rest of us, and that it was unfortunate that Rodan lacked the experience."

Triebakk gave a howl of appreciation.

"Clever," Mara said. "Good to point out that while you were fighting for the freedom of the galaxy, Rodan was off selling protocol droids to Lurrians, or whatever."

"That didn't end it, though," Cal said. "CZ-Twelve-R here," nodding at his protocol droid, "has been swamped with messages from reporters wanting to know the details of my 'Jedi program.' "

"And of course," Luke said, "we don't know what that is yet."

"I'm afraid not." Cal leaned his long body forward in his chair and looked at Luke. "I'd like to reestablish the Jedi Council, of course, but I don't know if it's a good idea to say so."

"When all else fails," Mara advised, "fall back on the truth."

Cal Omas gave a look of mock horror. "No! I'm a politician! I can't tell the truth!"

"Seriously, Cal," Mara said, "what can you say?"

Cal Omas hesitated.

"Suppose," Luke offered, "you say that you will bring the Jedi firmly under the control of the government. You don't have to specify how."

"I'll have to give some details," Cal said. "Otherwise it'll seem as if I don't really have a plan at all, and that would be uncomfortably close to the truth, which"-with an amused glance at Mara-"as a politician I absolutely cannot speak."

He frowned. "Luke, can you tell me how the Jedi Council was set up in the past? If we know how it used to work, maybe we can make it work again."

"The Jedi Council was a dozen or so respected Masters," Luke said, "who oversaw the other Jedi and their training, and who reported to the Supreme Chancellor. If the Chancellor saw a problem that required Jedi abilities, he would inform the Council, who would send Jedi to deal with it. Usually not many, because it was well known that behind the first Jedi were a few thousand more. And I imagine that information went both ways-that the Jedi themselves would alert the Supreme Chancellor if their own network of contacts pointed to a problem somewhere."

"A few thousand Jedi," Cal mused, "to cover an entire galaxy."

Mara gave a smug smile. "We're good" she said.

"But there are somewhat less than a few thousand of you now," Cal said. "Which is why we now have a military and a diplomatic service and so on. So how do I counter Fyor's contention that you're redundant?"

"Well," Mara said, "what happens if you need a diplomat who can also practice philosophy, fight with a lightsaber, and levitate small objects? Who else arc you going to call but us?"

Triebakk gave a snarl of amus.e.m.e.nt. Luke felt a kind of bliss sing through his heart at the fact that Mara could joke again, and he put an affectionate arm around her, after which he decided to ignore the scent of mildew that rose from the pillows.

"Mara has a point," he said. "We provide a specialized service-all-arounders, if you like."

"The Council of All-Arounders." Cal Omas sighed. "I don't think we're getting anywhere."

"Not the Council of All-Arounders," Luke said. "The Chief of State's Special Investigative Service. Your eyes, ears, and sword arm throughout the galaxy. When you need more muscle than a diplomat, and less than a battle cruiser, you send us."

Cal's eyes brightened. "I think you're getting somewhere," he said.

"But there are still problems with that scenario. Either they're going to say that you're secretly controlling me and I'm your puppet, or they're going to claim you're a bunch of superpowered clandestine agents whom I'm going to use to subvert the const.i.tution. Probably Fyor will manage to say both things at once." He sighed. "Unfortunately, we're snick with a const.i.tutional, representative, multibranched government, heavily scrutinized by a self-interested media. We're inefficient, divided, and prey to conflicting and contradictory interests-even, and perhaps especially, in moments of crisis."

Triebakk gave a low moan.

Luke gave Triebakk a sharp look. "No," he said. "Never even think of sympathizing with Palpatine."

Triebakk conceded with a graceful bow of his s.h.a.ggy head.

But even as he spoke to Triebakk, Cal's words seemed to echo for a long moment in Luke's mind. Const.i.tutional, representative, multibranched ... As opposed to what? he wondered. Elite, clandestine, autocratic, threat to the const.i.tution.

The old Jedi had personified the rule of order and the will of the state. But they were also secretive, and removed from the people and their representatives. Their link to the outside was through the Supreme Chancellor, and once a malevolent figure like Palpatine became Chancellor, with his disciple among the Jedi, the Jedi were cut off by the secret enemy, isolated, and destroyed.

The Jedi should never be so isolated again.

He became aware that the others were staring at him.

"Another message from the beyond?" Mara asked.

Luke smiled. "No. At least I don't think so."

"What, then?"

"I think I've worked out how to reestablish the Jedi Council in a way that will disarm Fyor Rodan."

Cal leaned forward. "Tell," he said.

"I had a nagging feeling when I was listening to Fyor Rodan yesterday," Luke began. "The nagging feeling I had," he continued, "was that Rodan was right, in a way. We are doing the jobs that other people are being paid to do. We are asking the government for privileges, and we're asking a great deal of people to believe that we ask in all humility and mean no harm-yet all they have to do is remember Darth Vader, and they'll suspect the contrary."

"And your solution?" Cal looked deeply intrigued.

"Suppose the council isn't composed entirely of Jedi," Luke said.

"We can have one member from each of the government branches that might feel threatened by us. Say we have a Senator chosen by the Senate.

Someone from the Defense Force. Another representative from the Ministry of State, and another from the Justice Council to make certain we stay within the law. Rodan would have a hard time convincing people that all those representatives were Jedi puppets. Especially if the Chief of State himself was on the council as well."

"The Chief of State or his amba.s.sador," Cal said. "The Chief of State is a busy person."

"Conceded."

Cal frowned as he considered the matter. "You've just given me quite a list. That's five non-Jedi on the Jedi Council."

"Six," Luke corrected, on second thought. "We'd also need someone from the Intelligence division."

"And how many Jedi?" Cal asked. "If we make the council too large, we'll start having the same problems as the Senate-it'll be too big to be effective."

"Six Jedi," Luke said. "That will bring the government representatives into balance with the Jedi."

Cal's long face grew abstract as he considered the implications of the new idea. "That's giving up a lot of the traditional Jedi power," he said.

"It's power we've already lost," Luke said. "We lost it when the old Jedi fell."

Gal's eyes focused, searching Luke's face. "You're sure? You're sure that you're comfortable departing this far from Jedi tradition?"

Luke felt an utter certainty in his answer. "On Ithor, I surrendered the guardianship of the Jedi tradition. I'm content with the idea."

Triebakk gave a triumphant roar.

"And you'd be welcome as the first Senatorial representative," Luke replied. "But the Senate would still have to vote on your nomination."

"And there would have to be security and background checks and so on." Cal continued to think out loud.

Triebakk snarled a reference to the late Viqi Shesh.

"I-" Luke began. And then he felt a touch on his mind, and again he thought, Jacen!