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She gave him an exasperated stare. “Relationship at the molecular level could be explained by a common ancestor millions or even billions of years ago. In all that time, it is not so far-fetched to believe that somehow life from our home galaxy was brought here—by a long-extinct spacefaring race, or merely as spores, riding the faint push of light and currents of gravity. But something as complex and specific as a lim tree cannot be explained in that way. It indicates more recent contact between this world and our own.”

“Perhaps Commander Val left one behind.”

“When I accessed the Qang qahsa for my lim tree’s genetic code, it had not been accessed in a thousand years. The plant is of no use to a spacefaring race.”

“How do you explain it, then?”

“I can’t. Perhaps there was an earlier ship—a worldship that left our galaxy long before the main fleet. Perhaps they came here—” She stopped. “No, that can only be conjecture. I need more data before I begin to talk like this.”

Nom Anor smiled. “But I must say it is enjoyable to hear you talk like this. Your passion is obvious. You are a credit to our people, Nen Yim. You will find the right path for us.”

That got a smile from her. “I thought that was your job.”

“I had the vision, but you are the one realizing it. I am little more than a passenger on this trip.”

“Your insight has been interesting, however.”

“I wish I understood enough about your work to be of real aid.”

“You can be, if you’re willing to learn.”

“I’m eager to,” he said.

“Good. You carry the qahsa and record what I tell you. I’m going to collect a few live specimens of the arthropods living in that rotten log over there.”

And with that, she placed a world of information into Nom Anor’s hand. He stared at it, feeling he had won a victory, not quite sure what to do with it.

TWENTY-ONE

“Ah,” Harrar said. “Success at last.”

“Looks like it,” Corran said. “So long as somebody doesn’t already call it home.”

They were facing up a long, rocky ridge that showed a number of pronounced overhangs. Corran tried to hide his disappointment—their search had carried them less than a kilometer from the downed ship, during which time he’d seen no signs whatsoever of civilization. Of course, it was hard to search thoroughly when you refused to take your eyes off your search partner. He was a very long way from trusting Harrar. Or any of the Yuuzhan Vong, for that matter, but especially a priest. A priestess of the deception sect had very nearly succeeded in wiping out a good portion of the Jedi.

He started up the slope, keenly aware of the man beside him, fighting reflexes that told him to draw his lightsaber now.

“Is your home like this?” Harrar asked.

“My home?”

“Your planet of origin.”

“Oh. Not really. I mean, it’s got forests and fields, but for the most part it’s pretty civilized.” He frowned.

“It is covered in cities?” Harrar asked.

“If you’re thinking about Coruscant when you say that, no.”

Harrar made a peculiar face. “For us,” he said, “the world you called Coruscant represented the ultimate abomination. A world entirely covered in machines. It is because it represented everything we despise that we chose it for our capital, to remake it in the image of our lost homeworld.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Corran said curtly. “If you have a point to make, make it.”

Harrar’s eyes seemed to harden a bit. “I am searching for a point, I think,” he said. “I have had little opportunity to speak with infidels when they weren’t being sacrificed or tortured.”

“You’re not scoring big with me right now, Harrar,” Corran pointed out. He let his hand drift toward his lightsaber.

Harrar cocked his head, and a grim smile played across his scarred features. “Do not think I fear you, Jeedai. I do not doubt that you—the slayer of Shedao Shai—could best me in combat. But you would remember the fight.”

“Is that what you want?” Corran asked. “To fight me?”

“Of course not.”

“Fine. Then we won’t.”

They had reached the rock shelter now. It looked good—dry, protected, no caves leading off to the lair of who-knew-what.