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As the bestselling New Jedi Order series
approaches its epic climax, the secrets of
the Yuuzhan Vong
—
who they are, where
they came from, what terrible forces
drive them
—
are at last exposed.
But will this knowledge aid the Jedi. . .
or doom them?
PROLOGUE
Three kilometers beneath the surface of Yuuzhan'tar—the
world once known as Coruscant—the sound of chanting
drifted up a shaft nearly as wide as it was deep, the melan-
choly strains yearning toward the few distant stars that
could be seen from the bottom. In the pale blue light of
lumen reeds, the faces of the chanters appeared ravaged,
their bodies misshapen.
These were the Shamed Ones of the Yuuzhan Vong, and
they chanted to their Prophet.
Nom Anor felt his bile rise at the sight. Even after all this
time as the "Prophet," it was difficult to shake the long years
of contempt he had held for them.
But they were his hope, now. They were his army. Once,
not long ago, he had dared to dream that with them behind
him he could pull Shimrra—Supreme Overlord of the Yuu-
zhan Vong—from his polyp throne, cast him into the pits,
and assume his place.
But there had been setbacks. His eyes and ears within
Shimrra's palace had been uncovered and killed. More of his
followers were discovered every day, and fewer answered
the call.
Their faith was wavering, and it was time to give it back
to them.
"Hear me!" he called, his voice soaring above the Prayer
of Redemption. "Hear the voice of prophecy!"
1
just such a planet. What they wanted with it he did not
know, but it seemed the planet had repelled at least one Yuu-
zhan Vong battle group, so perhaps its people had potent
weapons.
In any event, rumor would build on rumor, reinforcing
the veracity of his vision, strengthening the resolve of his
followers, knitting their single strands into ropes and the
ropes into cables until they were strong enough to knot
around Shimrra's neck and strangle him.
Strength swept through him as the sound of his adopted
name built toward the heavens. He looked out over them,
and this time was much less offended by their faces.
The chanting subsided, and an eager silence descended.
"I have fasted," he said. "I have meditated. Last night I
sat here, beneath the stars, waiting for I knew not what.
And in the darkest hours, a great light fell about me, a
cleansing light, the light of redemption. I looked up and
there, where the stars gaze down upon us, was an orb—a
world, a planet in the skies above us. Its beauty made me
tremble, and its power pressed down on me. I felt love and
terror at once. And then those emotions subsided, and I
felt—belonging. I knew that the planet itself was alive, wel-
coming me. It is the planet of the source, the planet of the
Jeedai,
their secret temple and fount of their knowledge and
wisdom—and I saw us, the Shamed, walking with
the Jeedai
upon its surface, one with them, one with the planet."
He dropped his tone from singsong to a near growl.
"And in the distance, I heard Shimrra's wail of despair, for
he knows this planet—this living planet—is our salvation
and his doom. And he knows it will come for him, one day,
because it will come for us."
He lowered his hands, and for a moment the silence pre-
vailed. Then a great roar went up, keen and joyful, and Nom
Anor heard what he most wanted to hear—the sound of hope,
the cry of the zealot—his name on the lips of a multitude.
What matter that he had put the story together from a few
conversations and rumors he had collected from Shimrra's
palace before his informant died? There
was
a planet, ru-
mored to be alive in some unusual way. Shimrra
was
terri-
fied of it, and had had the commander who brought the
news of it slaughtered out of hand, along with all his crew.
His story would give his people hope. It would encourage
them to fight. And when they were captured, and told the
prophecy to their punishers, it would get back to Shimrra,
and bring his fear back home.
Better, Nom Anor had heard from old sources in the
Galactic Alliance that the Jedi had mounted a search for
PART ONE
VISION
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