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Abruptly the screen shifted to a reverse point-of-view shot of Yuuzhan Vong vessels dropping through the atmosphere like slow-motion meteors. Cams tracked the descent of those closest to the Surge complex and held on them as they landed on the far side of bridges that spanned the picturesque lagoon above which the Tynnans had assembled.

“No indication of weapons among the Tynnan contingent,” Showolter said when the screen had returned to a midrange shot of the web-fingered, bucktoothed aliens. “Must be a welcoming party.”

“Has to be,” Kalenda mused. “Cunning and quick-wittedness have always been the Tynnans’ best weapons, but it’ll take time before they deploy those.”

“Meanwhile,” Showolter said, “it looks like they’re ready to hand over the codes to the city.”

Karrde smoothed his mustache. “I still can’t figure what the Yuuzhan Vong want with Tynna. Sure, it’s rich in natural resources, but nothing that can’t be found in Hutt space.”

“Tynna’s a step closer to the Core,” the pilot suggested.

Showolter shook his head. “Karrde’s right. Has to be something peculiar to Tynna.”

The point of view shifted again, this time to Yuuzhan Vong warriors and officers filing from one of the larger drop ships. The cam closed on two officers perched atop levitation seats. The seemingly higher ranked of the pair was black-haired and relatively short for a Yuuzhan Vong. The other was rail thin and elaborately tattooed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the look of these butchers,” Kalenda said.

Karrde snorted and made a toasting gesture. “Here’s to hoping you never have to.”

Showolter’s eyes were glued to the display screen. He touched the copilot’s shoulder. “I want all of this recorded and backed up in triplicate.”

“Already on it,” she told him.

Whoever was operating the cam obviously thought that the Yuuzhan Vong were going to continue across the bridges to the gathered Tynnans, because the cam momentarily raced ahead of its subjects when the enemy suddenly stopped short of the lagoon.

“They want the Tynnans to come to them,” Showolter surmised.

“I don’t know about that,” Karrde said skeptically. “They’re up to something else.”

As he was saying it, the cam closed on the black-haired officer and watched as he motioned back to the drop ships. Then it quickly panned across the landscape, focusing on one of the ships in time to see compartments open in its pitted base and a swarm of minuscule red spheres spill onto the ground and rush for the lagoon as if self-propelled.

“What the …,” the pilot said.

Instinctively and with patent apprehension, Kalenda reached for the nearest arm, found Karrde’s right, and vised on to it.

The leading edge of the spill had reached the shore of the lagoon, and the first of the red spherettes were already plunging into the cold blue waters. On the steps the Tynnans were crowding forward, snouts snuffling in agitated curiosity.

Showolter, Karrde, and Kalenda huddled around the monitor display.

Abruptly, the lagoon lost color.

Showolter’s first thought was that something had happened to the satellite feed signal. But when he raised his head to glance out the LSR’s viewport, he could see even at great remove from the planet, the sparkling blue of Tynna’s northern waters was rapidly changing to a sickly pale yellow.

In the absence of Supreme Commander Choka and Malik Carr—and assured of victory at Tynna—the priests had performed the rituals necessary for removing from its crèche aboard the Yammka an enormous, dedicated villip Choka had brought with him from the outer rim of the galaxy. The rituals had involved the intonation of countless prayers, the use of much sacrificial blood, and ceaseless stroking of the bony ridge that was the helmet-shaped villip’s most prominent feature.

By the time the commanders returned from their brief visit to Tynna, the villip had been relocated to ceremonial surroundings in a hold cleared of everyone but the most exalted of the priests. Below their far-larger companion sat the transmitting villips consciousness-joined to