Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 21_ The Unifying Force - James Luceno [54]
Harrar lowered his gaze and shook his head. “Having appointed ourselves Yun-Yuuzhan’s instrument, assuming the license to purge, to punish, and to sanctify, to kill by the millions those who do not share our worldview, we have become blasphemers against our own religion. We have become a weak species, desperate to prove our strength to our gods.”
Luke leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “If Shimrra understood this, could he be persuaded to end the war?”
“Shimrra hates the sound of reasoned words. Nor would any of the elite be persuaded—save, perhaps, those who have secretly remained faithful to Quoreal, and whose goal it has been to bring evidence of this world to Yuuzhan’tar, and expose Shimrra—to demonstrate that he violated the taboo and invaded, and that his actions may have damned all of us.”
The priest fell silent for a long moment, then said, “Answer one question for me: can Zonama Sekot help you defeat us? Is it indeed a weapon?”
Luke touched his jaw. “It has that capability.”
Harrar exhaled slowly and sadly. “Then no wonder Shimrra fears it so. It is as prophesied.” He looked questioningly at Luke. “Will you kill me now—sacrifice me to the Force?”
“That’s not our way,” Luke said.
Harrar’s initial confusion gave way to resolution. “Then if you would allow me, I wish to help bring about a resolution between your varied species and mine. Or do I begin to sound like Elan, promising one thing but determined to deliver another?”
Mara, Jacen, and the others were still trading looks of dumbfounded disbelief when Luke said, “Perhaps you carry something even more deadly than bo’tous, Harrar—in the form of ideas.”
Harrar pressed his few fingertips together and bounced them against his disfigured lower lip. “Yun-Harla is said to reserve her most cunning tricks for those most devoted to her. But we find ourselves here, together, for reasons beyond my comprehension. From here, then, we must at least attempt to mark a new beginning.”
ELEVEN
“We’re going to come out of this in one piece, right?” Judder Page asked as Han was returning to the cockpit.
In the adjacent chair, Pash Cracken repressed a smile.
Millennium Falcon had been in hyperspace for just under five standard hours, most of which Han had spent elsewhere in the freighter, evaluating the extent of the damage and checking on the passengers, who were crammed into every available cabin space.
Han looked from Page to Cracken to Leia, who had remained in the copilot’s chair throughout the lightspeed transit. “Didn’t you tell them everything would be fine?”
She shrugged. “Maybe they don’t trust me.”
Han strapped into the pilot’s chair and swiveled to the two Alliance officers. “You can trust whatever she says.”
Page grinned. “Well, that’s just it, Han. She told us to ask you.”
Han frowned at Leia. “Maybe it’s time we reviewed our roles aboard this ship. I do the piloting. You reassure the passengers that the pilot always knows what he’s doing.”
“Of course, Captain,” Leia said. “Might I tell the passengers exactly where we’re headed?”
Han swung to the navicomputer display. “Unless we took a wrong turn at the last nebula, we should be coming up on Caluula any minute now.”
Leia stared at him. “Caluula? In the Tion Hegemony? Could you have picked a more out-of-the-way planet?”
“Hey, I got us away from those Vong skips, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“I had to make a judgment call.” Han continued to make adjustments on the console and overhead instrument panels.
Leia eyed the lubricant smears on his hands, and a small bump that was forming on his right temple. “Everything go all right in the back?” she asked quietly while Cracken and Page were engaged in a separate conversation. “I thought I heard some cursing.”
“That must have been Threepio,” Han mumbled.
“He never was