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Elan’s eyes flashed. “Vergere and I had already concealed ourselves in the escape pod when the battle began. We didn’t know the ship would be destroyed. Our launch was … fortuitous.”

“Even if that’s true, why would your military leaders deploy such a small warship against our own, when a much larger ship was in the vicinity?”

Elan sneered at him. “Should I judge you by size, little man? The smaller ship was the more well armed of the two. Why else would the larger have fled with the destruction of its spawn?”

Yintal looked at Kalenda and Eicroth. “She’s lying.”

Elan sighed wearily. “You are a suspicious species. I’ve come to do good.”

“In what way, Elan?” Kalenda asked.

“You must take me to the Jedi. I can supply information about the malady.”

Yintal stepped closer to Elan and appraised her openly. “What does a priestess know about disease?”

She shook her head. “It is not a disease. It is a reaction to the coomb spores. The Jedi will know.”

“Why can’t you simply tell us?” Kalenda said. “Why is it so important that you meet with the Jedi?”

Elan sharpened her gaze. “Tell them what I have told you and they will understand.”

Yintal paced away from her, then whirled. “We need proof that you’ve come as a benefactor and not as a spy.”

Elan spread her arms wide. “You see me. What more proof can I offer?”

Yintal tightened his lips and squatted before her. “Military data.”

Elan’s face clouded over with perplexity. “Is that what you wish?”

“Give us something we can take to our superiors,” Kalenda urged. “If what you give us can be corroborated, we might be able to do as you request and arrange a meeting with the Jedi.”

Elan considered it for a moment. “My order works closely with the warriors to assure that the auguries are advantageous. We forecast which tactics to employ …”

“Then tell us where your fleet will strike next,” Yintal demanded. “Name the world.”

Elan had her mouth open to respond when a crashing sound issued from the front room, followed by muffled shouting, in Basic and Honoghran.

While Kalenda and Eicroth were rising from the cot, a tall, powerfully built man slammed into the doorjamb and fell to the floor, but quickly regained his footing. Dressed in spacer’s garb, he stood swaying in the doorway for a moment, taking in the room. Blood seeped through rips in his jumpsuit and ran from slashes that crisscrossed his face. Eyes fixed on Elan, he wedged the forefinger of his right hand into the crease aside his right nostril and launched a blood-curdling, Yuuzhan Vong scream to the ceiling.

“Do-ro’ik vong pratte!”

Then several things happened at once.

As if possessed of a will of its own, the man’s skin peeled back from his face, revealing a macabre, misshapen mask of whorls and undulating lines. Undercurrent to his scream, ripping and popping sounds emanated from beneath his clothing; then two torrents of gelatinous muck poured from his pants legs, consolidated into one mass, and streaked away like an animated oil slick.

Elan leapt to her feet and reared back against the wall, hissing and snarling at the intruder and curving her long fingers into claws.

“Assassin!” she shrieked through bared teeth. “They’ve found me!”

Yintal swung around and stepped in front of the assassin, only to take a backhand to the face that snapped his neck like a twig. The small man flew clear across the room, colliding with Showolter and dropping him to the floor.

The assassin was preparing to throw himself at Elan when he was suddenly attacked from behind by Mobvekhar and Khakraim, their sinewy limbs and lumpy craniums displaying scarlet bruises and wounds. The two Noghri drove the Yuuzhan Vong forward into the side wall of the hut, narrowly missing Elan, who ducked at the last moment and rolled herself under the cot.

The Yuuzhan Vong met the wall facefirst with bone-shattering force, and for a moment it seemed that he would succumb to the Noghri’s slashing assault. All at once, however, he straightened, propelling the two commandos off him with such power that they sailed to the far sides of the room, crashing into