Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 20_ The Final Prophecy - J. Gregory Keyes [57]
Existence rushed back, but there were no stars—instead, enormous bands of roiling red and yellow filled their tumbling view.
Tumbling … and falling down a gravity well, Corran realized. They were caught in the pull of a titanic planet, at least the size of Yavin 4, probably larger. The controls and the ship’s feelings told him that one of the dovin basals was completely off-line—or in shock, or dead, or whatever—which meant they weren’t going to be doing any starhopping anytime soon. The other two were working, though one was fading fast.
“Come on, baby,” Corran grunted, trying to get the wild spin under control and establish a stable orbit. But something was throwing everything off, and the pull was so strong …
There was another pull, too. The ship felt it, felt Zonama Sekot, and it wanted to go home.
He managed to kill the tumble and roll, which made it at least possible to get their bearings. His sensors were showing another planet, this one roughly the size of Corellia, about a hundred thousand klicks away. And there was something else, too, something in orbit around it. A moon? They were too far away to tell.
“We’ve got a chance,” he said. “If we can get close enough to Zonama Sekot, its gravity well will have a stronger pull on us than the big planet. If the engines quit now—well, we’re all going to gain some weight.”
He pulled the drive levers back, and the ship throbbed in protest. The air suddenly smelled foul, like burning hair and fish oil.
“Not much more,” he whispered to the ship. “But more.”
The second dovin basal suddenly hummed awake—he could feel it like a heart near breaking, sending pulses of agony through everything else, but the ship suddenly surged forward. Then the heart did break, and the indicators went dark. Only one engine remained now.
“What now?” Tahiri whispered. “Did we make it?”
“I don’t know yet. We’re right at the break point.”
“Maybe we should all go stand on the side of the ship nearest Zonama Sekot,” Tahiri said.
“Funny,” Corran said, and without even thinking he reached over and mussed her hair.
She jerked away as if he had attacked her.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No, it’s my fault,” Tahiri said, going red. “It’s just—” She broke off helplessly.
“The head,” Nen Yim explained. “In Domain Kwaad, we do not touch the head.”
Corran regarded the snakelike coils on hers. “Yes, I guess not,” he said.
I have to let go, he thought. Whatever she is, Tahiri isn’t Anakin’s little friend anymore.
Of course, that happened even without Yuuzhan Vong interference. He wasn’t even sure what sort of music Valin liked these days, but it probably wasn’t what he remembered.
Yes, when he got back from this he was going home, for a long time.
Or, rather if he got back …
He looked at the instruments. “Oh, yes,” he said. “We made it.” He pointed at Zonama Sekot. “We’re falling that way now.”
“You did it,” Tahiri said.
“The ship did it,” Corran replied. “Of course …”
“What?”
He flashed her a smile. “Of course, we are still falling, and while the jolt at the end won’t be quite as hard, it’s still going to smart.”
“It’s always going to be something with you, isn’t it? Tahiri said. “You’ve got a dovin basal left.”
“For how long? If we can’t find Luke—”
“I’m trying,” Tahiri informed him. “I’ve been trying since we got here. But all I can sense is that planet. It’s so strong in the Force it drowns everything else out.”
“I’ll try, too,” Corran said. “It may be our only hope. Shaper, if there’s anything you can do for that last dovin basal …”
“I will attend to it,” Nen Yim replied.
They watched the moon grow. Both Jedi continued to reach out through the Force, but if Jacen and the rest were there, Tahiri certainly couldn’t sense them. It was like listening for a voice in a sandstorm.
“Perhaps it isn’t the right planet,” Harrar suggested.
“It is the planet,” the Prophet averred. “The planet of prophecy. Can’t you