my head. Those two fought, and joined, and I was born. They were sort of like my parents. Nothing about either one of them is perfect in me. Even if I inherited something nasty from Riina, it will be flawed. I’ll be able to fight it.”
“Unless you don’t want to. Unless it’s something that would have appealed to both Tahiri and Riina.”
She conceded that with a nod. “You’ve already taken the risk, Corran. Why didn’t we have this conversation days ago?”
“Because I wanted to see something of who you’ve become.”
“And who have I become?”
“You’re bright and talented and far too confident. I’m not sure you’re afraid of anything, and that’s bad.”
“I’m afraid,” she said.
“Of what?”
“Fear. Anger.”
“The dark side.”
“Anakin saw me as a Dark Jedi with Yuuzhan Vong markings. He was strong in the Force.” She shook her head. “It’s not some hidden Yuuzhan Vong part of me that shouldworry you, Corran. It’s the Jedi part. Tahiri was trained as a Jedi from childhood. I—the person I’ve become—was not.”
His eyebrows beetled up. “That’s an interesting thing to say. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Most people haven’t.”
“Okay,” Corran said. “We’ll take this up later, when we aren’t skulking.”
“Are we skulking now?”
“Yes, because we’re almost at our destination. If there’s anyone waiting for us, I’d rather they didn’t interrupt an interesting conversation.”
A few moments later they passed an immense shaft of some sort. Faint daylight illuminated it, so she could guess that it was perhaps two kilometers in diameter. Looking up, she could see a faint circle of rose-colored light.
“How deep is this shaft?” she wondered aloud.
“About three klicks.”
“What in the galaxy
was
this?”
“A garbage pit,” he said. “They used to shoot dangerous garbage into orbit from here, with magnetic accelerators.”
“That’s a lot of garbage,” Tahiri said. “This is where we’re meeting him?”
“Yes. In about fifteen minutes, if he’s on time.”
While they waited, Tahiri looked around a bit. A lot of Yuuzhan Vong life had crept into the pit.
“What are those called?” Corran asked her. He was pointing at a plant with thick, reedlike stalks that glowed a vivid blue color.
“I’ve no idea,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen one before. There are a lot of things like that down here—things from the homeworld that weren’t needed or wanted on the worldships. Or maybe they’re new, engineered to live on metal.”
She touched the glowing cylinders. They were cool, and the fine hairs on the back of her hand stood up.
Ten minutes later, they heard the faint echoes of footsteps. Tahiri put her hand on the grip of her lightsaber. It might be the Prophet, but it might be anything.
A faint green luminescence appeared, carried by a tall, well-formed warrior.
“It’s a trick!” Tahiri whispered. She ignited her lightsaber. Corran’s blazed on an instant later.
The warrior stopped, now fully illuminated.
“Jeedai!”
“Look at him,” Tahiri said. “He’s not malformed. He’s not Shamed!”
But the warrior had dropped to his knees.
“Jeedai,”
he said in Basic. “Welcome. But you are not correct. I am indeed Shamed.”
After the initial shock, Tahiri had begun to notice other details—like the fact that the warrior wore no armor, and that some of his scars and tattoos were incomplete.
“You speak Basic,” Corran noticed.
“For your convenience I am equipped with a tizowyrm.”
“Are you the Prophet?” Corran asked.
“I am not. I arrive before him, to make certain all is safe. My name is Kunra.”
“And is it?” Corran asked. “Safe?”
“You are
Jeedai
. I have no choice but to trust you. My fear was that our communications had somehow been intercepted, and that I would find warriors here.”
Tahiri switched to Yuuzhan Vong. “Why were you Shamed?” she asked.
The
“Unless you don’t want to. Unless it’s something that would have appealed to both Tahiri and Riina.”
She conceded that with a nod. “You’ve already taken the risk, Corran. Why didn’t we have this conversation days ago?”
“Because I wanted to see something of who you’ve become.”
“And who have I become?”
“You’re bright and talented and far too confident. I’m not sure you’re afraid of anything, and that’s bad.”
“I’m afraid,” she said.
“Of what?”
“Fear. Anger.”
“The dark side.”
“Anakin saw me as a Dark Jedi with Yuuzhan Vong markings. He was strong in the Force.” She shook her head. “It’s not some hidden Yuuzhan Vong part of me that shouldworry you, Corran. It’s the Jedi part. Tahiri was trained as a Jedi from childhood. I—the person I’ve become—was not.”
His eyebrows beetled up. “That’s an interesting thing to say. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Most people haven’t.”
“Okay,” Corran said. “We’ll take this up later, when we aren’t skulking.”
“Are we skulking now?”
“Yes, because we’re almost at our destination. If there’s anyone waiting for us, I’d rather they didn’t interrupt an interesting conversation.”
A few moments later they passed an immense shaft of some sort. Faint daylight illuminated it, so she could guess that it was perhaps two kilometers in diameter. Looking up, she could see a faint circle of rose-colored light.
“How deep is this shaft?” she wondered aloud.
“About three klicks.”
“What in the galaxy
was
this?”
“A garbage pit,” he said. “They used to shoot dangerous garbage into orbit from here, with magnetic accelerators.”
“That’s a lot of garbage,” Tahiri said. “This is where we’re meeting him?”
“Yes. In about fifteen minutes, if he’s on time.”
While they waited, Tahiri looked around a bit. A lot of Yuuzhan Vong life had crept into the pit.
“What are those called?” Corran asked her. He was pointing at a plant with thick, reedlike stalks that glowed a vivid blue color.
“I’ve no idea,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen one before. There are a lot of things like that down here—things from the homeworld that weren’t needed or wanted on the worldships. Or maybe they’re new, engineered to live on metal.”
She touched the glowing cylinders. They were cool, and the fine hairs on the back of her hand stood up.
Ten minutes later, they heard the faint echoes of footsteps. Tahiri put her hand on the grip of her lightsaber. It might be the Prophet, but it might be anything.
A faint green luminescence appeared, carried by a tall, well-formed warrior.
“It’s a trick!” Tahiri whispered. She ignited her lightsaber. Corran’s blazed on an instant later.
The warrior stopped, now fully illuminated.
“Jeedai!”
“Look at him,” Tahiri said. “He’s not malformed. He’s not Shamed!”
But the warrior had dropped to his knees.
“Jeedai,”
he said in Basic. “Welcome. But you are not correct. I am indeed Shamed.”
After the initial shock, Tahiri had begun to notice other details—like the fact that the warrior wore no armor, and that some of his scars and tattoos were incomplete.
“You speak Basic,” Corran noticed.
“For your convenience I am equipped with a tizowyrm.”
“Are you the Prophet?” Corran asked.
“I am not. I arrive before him, to make certain all is safe. My name is Kunra.”
“And is it?” Corran asked. “Safe?”
“You are
Jeedai
. I have no choice but to trust you. My fear was that our communications had somehow been intercepted, and that I would find warriors here.”
Tahiri switched to Yuuzhan Vong. “Why were you Shamed?” she asked.
The
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