Rebel Dream: Enemy Lines I by Aaron Allston Read Free Book Online Page A

and released her. She fell awkwardly, almost collapsing when she landed; a stumble and she might have pitched forward into the pit anyway. Then they turned and left the chamber.
    Viqi felt the first, faint stirrings of hope. She was in charge of this situation, for the moment at least. If she could hold on to her tenuous advantage, she might live.
    Tsavong Lah regarded her steadily. “Well?”
    “Your body rejects its latest modification,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “I know what you’re thinking. You believe it’s your gods talking to you, telling you to figure out the correct path to their approval. But that’s not what’s happening.
    “You’re being betrayed, Warmaster. By the shapers. They’ve put a faulty limb on you. It threatens to turn you into a Shamed One. Soon, they’ll start recommending courses of action to you—military action, political action. When you start doing what they say, the problems with your limb will diminish. But anytime you fail to do as the shapers demand, new problems will begin. You’re going to be their slave, Warmaster.”
    Tsavong Lah fell silent. His eyes were unreadable.
    You contemptible, predictable fool, I have you
. Viqi clamped down on the rush of elation she felt—she could not afford for it to be reflected in her expression.
    In her cell, she had used her skills of fabricating and anticipating treachery—not to figure out the source of the problems afflicting Tsavong Lah, but to concoct an accusation that explained all of them, a story that would take time and effort to disprove. She would use that time to find some way to escape the Yuuzhan Vong.
    “An interesting notion,” the warmaster said. “What if you are wrong?”
    “I am
not
wrong.” Viqi gave him her most unconcerned expression. “I just ask for the opportunity to see my theory proven right. Kill me
then
if you choose. At least I’ll die victorious.”
    Tsavong Lah regarded her for long moments. Then he nodded to himself. “We will see. I will give you duties to perform until proof is in my hands … or my patience ends.” He called out a few words in his language, and the guards returned to flank Viqi. At the warmaster’s gesture, the guards took Viqi by the shoulders, spun her around, and led her back out the door.
    Every step was more distance between her and the pit. Every step was a loosening in the tight grip that fear had on her heart. Every step was a drumbeat accompanying the words that pulsed through her mind:
I live. I live. I still live
.
Borleias Occupation, Day 3
    Wedge’s comlink beeped, awakening him. His booted feet slid off the desk before him and hit the floor with a too-loud clatter. He sat up, wondering for a moment where he was and what he was doing there.
    His office was dark. He’d fallen asleep before making it back to his temporary quarters. He grabbed his comlink and held it up before him. “Go.” He rubbed sleep from his eyes and wondered how many minutes of rest he’d had.
    “General, this is
Mon Mothma
. One of our wing-pair patrols reports a transport with fighter escort arriving insystem.”
    “Yuuzhan Vong or refugee?”
    “Neither, sir. Its communications officer says it’s theofficial transport of the New Republic Advisory Council. Their authentication code checks out.”
    Wedge frowned at the comlink. It was inconceivable that the Advisory Council was still functioning in any capacity. Until the fall of Coruscant, they’d been Chief of State Borsk Fey’lya’s handpicked advisers, a lubricating layer between him and the grinding machinery of government. But with Fey’lya’s death during Coruscant’s fall and the collapse and flight of the New Republic Senate, Wedge had guessed that the Advisory Council would have been scattered to the space routes, each member racing home to prepare for Yuuzhan Vong pursuit. “Have they done anything other than request clearance to land?”
    “Yes, sir. They’ve, um, requested a meeting with you