Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 04_ Agents of Chaos 01_ Hero's Trial - James Luceno [44]
“The back door opens onto one of the tunnels that honeycomb Tantiss,” the major explained. “About as hardened a site as you’ll find between Wayland and Borleias.” He gestured to a side room. “Our would-be defector’s in here. We’ve got the other one—the pet—stashed downstairs.”
“Is that her term or yours?” Eicroth asked.
Showolter turned to her. “What she actually said was ‘familiar.’ ”
The four operatives entered the side room, where the Yuuzhan Vong female was sitting in a meditative posture on a pillow she’d borrowed from the cot. In place of the exotic garb she was wearing in the 2-D opticals Kalenda had seen, Elan was now attired in drawstring trousers and a hooded overshirt. Though outlandishly tattooed, she was even more striking and statuesque in person than she looked in the photos.
Her oblique eyes—a vivid blue—snapped open and darted from face to face.
“Elan, these are some of my associates,” Showolter said smoothly.
She glared at him. “Where is Vergere?”
“Downstairs—eating, when I last saw her.”
“You’ve deliberately separated us.”
“Just for the time being.”
“What is Vergere to you, Elan?” Eicroth said, moving to the cot and sitting down.
“She is my familiar.”
Kalenda and Eicroth traded brief glances. “We understand the term, but perhaps in a different context. Do you mean that Vergere is something more than a companion?” Kalenda asked.
“She is that, as well.”
“So, an aide and a comrade.”
“She is not a comrade. She is a familiar.” Elan rearranged herself on the pillow. “You’ve come to test me further?”
Kalenda sat down alongside Eicroth. “Just a few questions.”
“Questions your despicable scanners and analyzers failed to answer?” Elan smiled maliciously. “How can machines be expected to communicate with a living being?”
Kalenda forced a smile. “Suppose we consider this a means of getting acquainted.”
“We Yuuzhan Vong have no such protocols. We know who others are. We wear who we are.” She ran her fingertips across her patterned cheeks. “What you see reflects what is inside. You are fools to suspect that I am other than what my face and body declare me to be. Why do you refuse to grant me political asylum?”
“The Yuuzhan Vong would accept one of us without question?” Yintal countered.
Elan looked hard at him. “Where doubt or suspicion exist, we have the breaking.”
“What is the breaking?” Yintal asked, clearly intrigued.
“An expedient way of arriving at the truth.”
Eicroth waited for Elan to go on, but instead Elan fell silent. “You say that you wear who you are. Are you referring to your body markings?”
“Markings?” Elan repeated with unconcealed revulsion. “I am a priestess of Yun-Harla.” She touched her broad forehead, then her cleft chin. “This is Yun-Harla’s forehead; this is her chin. These are not markings. I am elite.”
“Why would an elite desert her people?” Yintal asked bluntly.
Elan narrowed her eyes in apparent deliberation. “There is dissension. Not all Yuuzhan Vong believe that we should have journeyed across the void to come here. As many believe that this war is not one the gods wish. Because I am a priestess of the high arts, I would have you see the light in other ways.”
“You don’t condone the mass murder and sacrifices that have characterized your campaign so far?” Kalenda said.
Elan turned to her. “Sacrifice is essential to existence. We Yuuzhan Vong sacrifice ourselves as often as we do infidels. Whether or not your galaxy is the chosen land, it must be purified to be made habitable.” She paused briefly. “Death is not what we wish for you, however. Only that you accept the truth.”
“The truth as revealed by your gods,” Eicroth said leadingly.
“The gods,” Elan corrected her.
Yintal made a sound of disdain. “You’re not a priestess. You’re an espionage agent—a pretender. The ship you jettisoned from was destroyed much too easily.