Luke was reminded of his rigorous conversations with Vergere.

"There's one major difference between us: we accept that what doesn't take the Force into consideration is false."

Harrar shrugged.

"What doesn't take the G.o.ds into consideration is false. To us, you embody a dark power, seemingly as the Sith did to the Jeedai of old. And yet, if the Sith borrowed of the Force, much as you do, how then were they dark? Because they disagreed with your views?"

"The Sith sowed destruction and chaos in service to dark designs.

They exercised absolute power to achieve their ends. They didn't revere the Force; they had reverence only for the power it afforded them. They saw their way as the only way."

"As the Yuuzhan Vong do," Harrar said, "and you aver not to."

"You worship pain," Mara said.

Harrar shook his head.

"If they could be persuaded to answer truthfully, Jacen and Tahiri would tell you otherwise. We accept that birth into life is pain because it is separation from the G.o.ds-or the Force, if you will. But since we would not exist without the G.o.ds and their sacrifice, we thank the G.o.ds by emulating them, and giving of ourselves in their name. Pain is our means of reuniting with Yun-Yuuzhan. We wonder why the G.o.ds created us, only to have us suffer all our lives in order to return to them. But this is unknowable. The creative cannot but create, and this is what the G.o.ds do. These things are beyond our understanding, and we accept them as being beyond our understanding. If our teachings are false, then they will pa.s.s away. Until that time, we must abide by them."

"Perish by them, you mean," Corran said.

"Perhaps. But this is all so much talk. I fear that the G.o.ds now look upon the Yuuzhan Vong with disfavor. I first realized this when Commander Kahlee Lah believed that Jaina Solo had become an aspect of Yun-Harla, the Trickster. Then I watched Supreme Commander Czulkang Lah be taken in at Borleias by the so-called Operation Starlancer. And now tens of thousands of Shamed Ones have allowed themselves to be beguiled by a self-serving heretic..." Harrar lowered his gaze and shook his head.

"Having appointed ourselves Yun-Yuuzhan's instrument, a.s.suming the license to purge, to punish, and to sanctify, to kill by the millions those who do not share our worldview, we have become blasphemers against our own religion. We have become a weak species, desperate to prove our strength to our G.o.ds."

Luke leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"If Shimrra understood this, could he be persuaded to end the war?"

"Shimrra hates the sound of reasoned words. Nor would any of the elite be persuaded-save, perhaps, those who have secretly remained faithful to Quoreal, and whose goal it has been to bring evidence of this world to Yuuzhan'tar, and expose Shimrra-to demonstrate that he violated the taboo and invaded, and that his actions may have d.a.m.ned all of us."

The priest fell silent for a long moment, then said, "Answer one question for me: can Zonama Sekot help you defeat us?

Is it indeed a weapon?"

Luke touched his jaw.

"It has that capability."

Harrar exhaled slowly and sadly.

"Then no wonder Shimrra fears it so. It is as prophesied." He looked questioningly at Luke. "Will you kill me now-sacrifice me to the Force?"

"That's not our way," Luke said.

Harrar's initial confusion gave way to resolution.

"Then if you would allow me, I wish to help bring about a resolution between your varied species and mine. Or do I begin to sound like Elan, promising one thing but determined to deliver another?"

Mara, Jacen, and the others were still trading looks of dumbfounded disbelief when Luke said, "Perhaps you carry something even more deadly than bo'tous, Harrar-in the form of ideas."

Harrar pressed his few fingertips together and bounced them against his disfigured lower lip.

"Yun-Harla is said to reserve her most cunning tricks for those most devoted to her. But we find ourselves here, together, for reasons beyond my comprehension. From here, then, we must at least attempt to mark a new beginning."

ELEVEN.

"We're going to come out of this in one piece, right?" Judder Page asked as Han was returning to the c.o.c.kpit.

In the adjacent chair, Pash Cracken repressed a smile. Millennium Falcon had been in hypers.p.a.ce for just under five standard hours, most of which Han had spent elsewhere in the freighter, evaluating the extent of the damage and checking on the pa.s.sengers, who were crammed into every available cabin s.p.a.ce.

Han looked from Page to Cracken to Leia, who had remained in the copilot's chair throughout the lightspeed transit.

"Didn't you tell them everything would be fine?"

She shrugged.

"Maybe they don't trust me."

Han strapped into the pilot's chair and swiveled to the two Alliance officers.

"You can trust whatever she says."

Page grinned.

"Well, that's just it, Han. She told us to ask you."

Han frowned at Leia.

"Maybe it's time we reviewed our roles aboard this ship. I do the piloting. You rea.s.sure the pa.s.sengers that the pilot always knows what he's doing."

"Of course, Captain," Leia said. "Might I tell the pa.s.sengers exactly where we're headed?"

Han swung to the navicomputer display.

"Unless we took a wrong turn at the last nebula, we should be coming up on Caluula any minute now."

Leia stared at him.

"Caluula? In the Tion Hegemony? Could you have picked a more out-of-the-way planet?"

"Hey, I got us away from those Vong skips, didn't I?"

"You did."

"I had to make a judgment call."

Han continued to make adjustments on the console and overhead instrument panels. Leia eyed the lubricant smears on his hands, and a small b.u.mp that was forming on his right temple.

"Everything go all right in the back?" she asked quietly while Cracken and Page were engaged in a separate conversation. "I thought I heard some cursing."

"That must have been Threepio," Han mumbled.

"He never was good with tools-"

"Coming out of hypers.p.a.ce," Han interrupted, reaching forward to prime the sublight drives and ready the subs.p.a.ce transceiver. The starlines sharpened to points of light, and the starfield rotated slightly. The ion drives flared to life with a deafening whoomp! and the ship began to lurch and hiccup. From aft came the sound of stressed alloy, then an indistinct severing as if some component had been torn away.

"What was that?" Leia asked.

"Just another piece of us," Han said flatly, "Nothing important...

I hope."

A distant object grew larger in the viewport, slowly defining itself as a linear array of geometric modules, linked by girderlike structural members and transparent tubular pa.s.sageways. Docking berths extended from each module, many of them housing ion cannons and turbolasers in place of ships. Sprouting like a faceted mushroom cap from the center of the array was an enormous shield generator. Han relaxed into his chair.

"A thing of beauty if I ever saw one."

"Looks awfully beat up," Leia said dubiously.

Han straightened somewhat.

"Yeah, now that you mention it. But the last time I pa.s.sed through here the station was stocked with aftermarket parts from Lianna."

"How long ago was that?" Han thought for a moment. "A couple of years, I guess. But-"

A blast rocked the Falcon from behind, snapping everyone back in their chairs.

"Another piece of us?" Leia asked, leaning in to check the sensor displays.

"Worse."

Leia's eyes were big when she glanced back at him.

"What was that you said about outrunning those skips?"

Cracken raised his eyes to the overhead viewport.

"They couldn't have followed us through hypers.p.a.ce! It can't be the same vessels!"

Han veered the Falcon hard to port, a second before two magma missiles raced past the ship's mandibles.

"Somebody's changed the rules!"

He leaned toward the intercom and called the two Noghri by name, then fell silent for a moment, listening to their reply.

"I don't care if the targeting computers aren't responding! You've got eyes, haven't you?" He growled to himself. "Have to do everything myself around here-"

A molten projectile hit the Falcon broadside, and a wire-filled module dropped, sparking, from the c.o.c.kpit ceiling. Han barrel-rolled the ship, then dived abruptly. Alarms were screeching even before he pulled out of the maneuver, and the authenticators began painting dozens of yellow bezels on the tactical display screens. Han and Leia looked up at the same time to find themselves squared off with a Yuuzhan Vong battle group of capital vessels, gunboat a.n.a.logs, tenders, and what was certainly a yammosk-bearing cl.u.s.tership, similar to the one Han had helped cripple at Fondor.

Sentry coralskippers were already streaking for the Falcon.

"You know, you have a real knack for this!" Leia said while she called for a status readout on the shields.

"It's not me," Han protested. "The navicomputer has itself convinced that trouble is the Falcon's default preference!"

"A likely story."

Han didn't alter course.

"Grab a holo of that cl.u.s.tership. Download any drive signatures you can pick up and paste everything into the battle a.n.a.lysis computer. Then hold on to your stomach!"

He waited for Leia to carry out the tasks, then threw the Falcon into a near-vertical climb, continuing up and over in a loop that sent them racing back toward Caluula's...o...b..tal station. The quartet of curve-tailed, six-legged skips that had apparently chased the Falcon from Selvaris were directly below, spewing plasma missiles, even as they jinked and juked to evade incessant laser bursts from the dorsal and belly AG-2Gs. Leia swiveled to the commboard.

"Caluula Station, come in!"

"Transmit our identification code,"

Han said. "Caluula Station, this is Millennium Falcon. Please acknowledge."

"Say something,"

Han muttered.

"Call us a name-anything!"

The closer they came to the station, the worse it appeared. Many of the modules had been holed and scorched by fire. A pitched battle must have raged for weeks, unknown to Galactic Alliance command because of the disabled HoloNet. Han wondered briefly how many other planets or orbital stations were in similar straits.

"Millennium Falcon, this is Caluula Station," a female voice said at last. "Someone should have told us you were coming."

Han clamped his right hand on Leia's left in relief.

"Caluula Station, even we didn't know we were coming," he said into the mike. "We've got drive trouble, and a couple of coralskippers are hounding us. Any chance you could lower your shields long enough to take us in?"

"Can do, Millennium Falcon-so long as you can guarantee that your ship's as fast as she's rumored to be."

"Pull in the welcome mat while we're making our approach," Han said, "and the Falcon'll still get us inside with time to spare."

"We won't hold you to that, Millennium Falcon, but come on in."

"First we've got to lose these rock spitters."

Routing additional power to the main thrusters, Han firewalled the throttle and began to take the Falcon through a repertoire of stomach-churning evasive maneuvers. The tandem-piloted skips did their best to keep up, singeing the Falcon's stern with gouts of plasma. But as the Falcon neared the station, the enemy vessels had to contend also with laser beams and the sting of ion cannons.