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Nas Choka wanted to tear his eyes away but couldn’t. Atmosphere and other gases were beginning to puff and stream from fractures in the vessel’s hull. Fluids leaked from the dovin basal blastulas, trailing behind like frozen streamers. Vital components shut down and went spinning off into space. Broadening and deepening, the fissures joined, creating a network of cracks, from which hunks of yorik coral began to tumble. Then, just at the leading edge of the planetary flotilla, Shimrra’s coffer exploded, sundering like a disintegrated planet and loosing a shock wave that crippled countless war vessels before it dispersed.

A fearful silence descended on Yammka’s, command chamber. For a long moment, Nas Choka could only gape in incredulity at what had occurred. Never in their long history had the Yuuzhan Vong been without a Supreme Overlord—their holy intercessor. Despite the success at Zonama Sekot, the armada was nothing without Shimrra. They had been cut off from the divine, deprived of any means of appealing to Yun-Yuuzhan or Yun-Yammka for guidance or support.

What had lighted the Yuuzhan Vong universe had been extinguished. Truly the gods had abandoned the Yuuzhan Vong and allied with the infidels. They had withdrawn their guardianship of Shimrra, and the Yuuzhan Vong had become Shamed Ones—rejected, passed over, a hopeless godless species.

Defeated!

Nas Choka could feel the expectant gazes of his commanders and subalterns. He grasped the question implied by every look—the question every Yuuzhan Vong on or off Coruscant was asking: Is there purpose to fighting to the death without any hope for salvation in the afterlife?

Nas Choka martialed his pride and moved to the villipchoir. “All Supreme Commanders,” he told the villip mistress; then, when the villips had taken on the likenesses of his chief subordinates, he said: “The war is ended. We are defeated by the gods and by their allies. Though they have abandoned us, we will suffer our defeat with honor, because it is what the gods would expect. But any of you who wish to follow the Supreme Overlord’s example and die as warriors may do so; just as any of you who wish to commit ritual death may do so. Those who choose neither will join me in accepting the shame of surrender, and finding what nobility we can in capture and graceless execution.

“Rrush’hok ichnar vinim’hok!”

Even while the vessel’s Supreme Commander, chief tactician, and priest were opening themselves with coufees, Nas Choka moved back to the transparency. Across the entire embattled face of Yuuzhan’tar—of Coruscant—coralskippers, pickets, and cruisers were veering into collision courses with Alliance ships.

Errant Venture hung over Zonama Sekot like a freshly forged spearpoint, her blazing turbolasers providing cover fire for the modified shuttles, yachts, and blockade runners that plummeted from the forward launching bay. On detecting the smugglers’ ships, the coralskippers that had been harassing the Star Destroyer regrouped and set after what must have seemed like more assailable prey.

Lady Luck had been first out of the bay, with Wild Karrde close behind. In the cockpit of the SoroSuub yacht, Lando and Tendra were busy at separate tasks when Talon commed them.

“Two skips on your starboard,” he warned.

“Got ’em,” Lando said into his headset mike. He nodded for Tendra to raise the yacht’s rear deflector screen.

“If you two would allow me the honor …”

“No need to stand on ceremony, Talon.”

Lando pushed the control yoke away from him, dropping Lady Luck into Zonama Sekot’s gravity well. The ship bucked and began to vibrate as the atmosphere thickened. Tendra called a starboard view to the console displays in time to see angry bursts of laserfire spew from the Corellian transport’s triple batteries. Struck full force, the lead coralskipper farthest from Lady Luck crumbled. The second skip slewed hard to port in an effort to come alongside the yacht, but Wild Karrde’s, follow-up bursts caught the enemy vessel while it was still outside the yacht