turn without clipping anything, and the next. The tube had narrowed so much that they had only a few meters’ clearance.
“This is almost it,” Corran said. “The next intersection used to be a cooling tower. We should be able to go up into the water jacket. We can park the ship there and go the rest of the way on foot.”
“Let’s just hope they haven’t replaced the cooling tower with, I don’t know, a lorqh membrane,” Tahiri said.
“Don’t tell me what that is, okay?” Corran said.
A few moments later, the ship bobbed to the surface in a large, open area. Tahiri made out a flat, sturdy-looking surface a tier above, and gently coaxed the ship up to it.
“Well done,” Corran said.
“Thank you. Are we where you thought we were?”
Corran studied the chart. “Yep. From here, we can find access tunnels to the place we were supposed to meet this Prophet. All we have to do now is find him, bring him back here, and do all that in reverse.”
Tahiri sighed. “And find another ship. I don’t think we can even make orbit in this one, much less a hyperspace jump.”
Corran’s jaw clamped, then he shrugged. “Well, we’ve stolen ships before. We can do it again.”
But she could tell he was worried. The quipping was to set
her
at ease, because he still thought she was a kid.
“Fight what’s in front of you,” she said. “Let’s go find out more about this Prophet.”
* * *
“Can’t say the Vong have improved much on this,” Corran remarked, as they wound their way through the dark caverns that had once been Coruscant’s underworld. Now it was a mass of corroding metal, strange, pale growths, and luminescent lichen. It looked as if it had been abandoned for centuries rather than months. Despite the setbacks Jacen had engineered with the dhuryam—the World Brain—the Yuuzhan Vong shapers seemed to be making headway.
“Of course, it was never exactly homey down here,” he added.
“
Yuuzhan
Vong,” Tahiri corrected. “Did people live here back in the old days?”
“Lots,” Corran said. “The vast majority of people who lived on Coruscant weren’t what you would exactly call comfortable.”
Tahiri shivered. “I can’t imagine living like this, below-ground, surrounded by metal, no sky, no stars.”
“Is that Tahiri or Riina talking?”
There was something subtly testing in his voice. “Neither one of them would have liked this,” she said. “Tahiri grew up in the desert and in the jungles of Yavin Four. Riina grew up in a worldship. Both were surrounded by life.”
“Riina didn’t grow up anywhere,” Corran said. “Riina was created in a laboratory.”
“You think that makes a difference?” she asked, stung. “How do you know all your memories are real? If you found out your memories of Mirax were implanted, that there was no such person, would she be any less real to you?”
“Unh-unh,” Corran said. “Not buying the sophomoric philosophy. Part of you was once a real person. Part of you was created, like a computer program.”
“You think Threepio isn’t real?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” Tahiri said. She’d pretty much had enough of this, because she didn’t know whether to cryor hit him. “And I’ll bet I’ve thought about it a lot more than you have. What I
don’t
know is why you’re pushing this, here, now. I thought we covered this before leaving Mon Calamari.”
Corran stopped, regarded her in the light of their lamps.
“No, we didn’t. Or, rather, none of my worries were really resolved. You asked if I trusted you. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Tahiri—I don’t know who you
are
. I don’t know what might be sleeping in you, waiting to wake up when the right stimulus comes along. And I can’t believe that you can be sure about that either.”
That was a
tu’q
, a solid hit. “No, of course I can’t,” she finally managed. “But I’m not part Tahiri and part Riina. There aren’t two voices in
“This is almost it,” Corran said. “The next intersection used to be a cooling tower. We should be able to go up into the water jacket. We can park the ship there and go the rest of the way on foot.”
“Let’s just hope they haven’t replaced the cooling tower with, I don’t know, a lorqh membrane,” Tahiri said.
“Don’t tell me what that is, okay?” Corran said.
A few moments later, the ship bobbed to the surface in a large, open area. Tahiri made out a flat, sturdy-looking surface a tier above, and gently coaxed the ship up to it.
“Well done,” Corran said.
“Thank you. Are we where you thought we were?”
Corran studied the chart. “Yep. From here, we can find access tunnels to the place we were supposed to meet this Prophet. All we have to do now is find him, bring him back here, and do all that in reverse.”
Tahiri sighed. “And find another ship. I don’t think we can even make orbit in this one, much less a hyperspace jump.”
Corran’s jaw clamped, then he shrugged. “Well, we’ve stolen ships before. We can do it again.”
But she could tell he was worried. The quipping was to set
her
at ease, because he still thought she was a kid.
“Fight what’s in front of you,” she said. “Let’s go find out more about this Prophet.”
* * *
“Can’t say the Vong have improved much on this,” Corran remarked, as they wound their way through the dark caverns that had once been Coruscant’s underworld. Now it was a mass of corroding metal, strange, pale growths, and luminescent lichen. It looked as if it had been abandoned for centuries rather than months. Despite the setbacks Jacen had engineered with the dhuryam—the World Brain—the Yuuzhan Vong shapers seemed to be making headway.
“Of course, it was never exactly homey down here,” he added.
“
Yuuzhan
Vong,” Tahiri corrected. “Did people live here back in the old days?”
“Lots,” Corran said. “The vast majority of people who lived on Coruscant weren’t what you would exactly call comfortable.”
Tahiri shivered. “I can’t imagine living like this, below-ground, surrounded by metal, no sky, no stars.”
“Is that Tahiri or Riina talking?”
There was something subtly testing in his voice. “Neither one of them would have liked this,” she said. “Tahiri grew up in the desert and in the jungles of Yavin Four. Riina grew up in a worldship. Both were surrounded by life.”
“Riina didn’t grow up anywhere,” Corran said. “Riina was created in a laboratory.”
“You think that makes a difference?” she asked, stung. “How do you know all your memories are real? If you found out your memories of Mirax were implanted, that there was no such person, would she be any less real to you?”
“Unh-unh,” Corran said. “Not buying the sophomoric philosophy. Part of you was once a real person. Part of you was created, like a computer program.”
“You think Threepio isn’t real?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean,” Tahiri said. She’d pretty much had enough of this, because she didn’t know whether to cryor hit him. “And I’ll bet I’ve thought about it a lot more than you have. What I
don’t
know is why you’re pushing this, here, now. I thought we covered this before leaving Mon Calamari.”
Corran stopped, regarded her in the light of their lamps.
“No, we didn’t. Or, rather, none of my worries were really resolved. You asked if I trusted you. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Tahiri—I don’t know who you
are
. I don’t know what might be sleeping in you, waiting to wake up when the right stimulus comes along. And I can’t believe that you can be sure about that either.”
That was a
tu’q
, a solid hit. “No, of course I can’t,” she finally managed. “But I’m not part Tahiri and part Riina. There aren’t two voices in
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