Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 20_ The Final Prophecy - J. Gregory Keyes [73]
He reached into the living pouch beneath his arm and removed the thing he had brought with him. He must have known, somehow, in the back of his mind, that it must always come to this.
He stared at it, turning it over in his hands. It was a dedicated villip, linked to one other, far away. He had not used it in a very long time, since before the disaster that had led to his exile.
He stroked it to life.
After a moment, the face of an intendant appeared on its surface, one of his former subordinates.
Even through the medium of the villip, Nom Anor could see the surprise.
“You were assumed dead,” the man said.
“I greet you as well, Phaa Anor,” he told his crèche cousin.
“You might as well be dead,” Phaa Anor told him. “Shimrra has called for your skin. I will have to report this conversation, of course.”
“Of course. I want you to. In fact, I want you to see that your villip comes before Shimrra himself.”
“Before Shimrra?” Phaa sounded incredulous.
“Yes. Send him the message that you have heard from me. Tell him I am on Zonama Sekot, and that I have found his missing shaper. He will listen to you then. When you gain an audience, present him with your villip.”
“Why should I do this for you?” Phaa asked.
“Consider. I have information so important that I believe I can redeem myself in the Supreme Overlord’s eyes. Not only that, I believe I will be elevated for my efforts. Do you not think you will benefit as well, he who brings these tidings?”
Phaa Anor seemed to consider that for a moment.
“I will do it,” he said at last.
“Do it quickly, and tell no one anything I have said save those whom you must convince to grant you an audience with Shimrra.”
“Yes, yes,” Phaa replied. Then the villip returned to its natural state.
He had probably just doomed Phaa Anor, he knew. Shimrra would have him killed simply for knowing the planet existed and was in this galaxy.
Sacrifices had to be made, however, for the good of all. And for the good of Nom Anor.
He sealed the villip back into dormancy and its airtight container, returned it to its resting place beneath his arm, and went back down the hill.
TWENTY-FOUR
Jaina throttled down and made another run on Mon Mothma, dropping to within a meter of the Star Destroyer’s skin. Suddenly she seemed to be skimming above a vast, white, slightly curving plane. An irregular dark lump appeared ahead, and she angled toward it. At the last instant she hit her repulsors and nosed up, washing her exhaust over the grutchin, which released its hold. Its charred body drifted off to join the other twenty or so she had flashed.
“This is actually kind of fun,” she said. She would have to ask Uncle Luke if going after womp rats was anything like this.
“Speak for yourself,” Twin Two said. “I just banged a stabilizer.”
“Just watch yourself. If you plow into the hull, you’ll do more damage than any grutchin.”
“Don’t make me weepy with your concern for my welfare,” Two replied.
“Hey, I’ve got a big heart … Okay, I think we’re almost through here.”
“Just in time for the real fun,” Rar said.
“I see that.”
The big ships were closing again, and space was alive with light as they pummeled each other. And now the rest of the skips were arriving, not coming in as fast as the advance guard, but twice as hot. Jaina checked the new orders.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s vape some skips.”
* * *
“They really don’t want us to get away,” Wedge muttered. He’d thought about making a hard push for one of the interdictors so they could clear out, but the Yuuzhan Vong were keeping them far away and under heavy watch. That was good, in a way—it gave him near parity in the actual combat. Even though they had ships behind him, they weren’t using them for anything but to prevent him running that way. Nor did they have enough ships to try an encirclement.
Still, slugging things out nose to nose was an iffy proposition when numbers were this even. He hadn’t come