Agony ripped through him like a solar flare, burning every nerve fiber to cinders. Or so it felt.
"Are you healing me," he gasped, "or killing me?"
The pain is unavoidable. The only way to avoid it now would be for you to die. But you must stay with your body, no matter what it's telling you.
"Ican't"
Yes you can, Admiral. We need you. If you die now, many others will follow. I'm not about to let that happen.
He wasn't used to being spoken to that way, as though by an insistent schoolteacher. " You're not?"
I'm sorry. There are times when we all must endure the hurt in order to survive. Yours is now. The Force requires it.
Realization came to him then. The Force. This Tekli was a Jedi! But what was a Jedi doing in the Empire? And where?
Another memory came to him. He had spoken to the Skywalkers in Bastion shortly before trying to break out of the gas giant's mass shadow. He remembered they had shown him some new tactics they believed would help in his fight against the Yuuzhan Vong. This Tekli, she must have come with them.
But what was he doing here with her? Superior was destroyed. He recalled ordering the evacuation of the dying hulk as it plunged into the gas giant. How had Chimaera avoided the same fate? If he had been injured and his crew had evacuated him to safety while they died, he
couldn't live with himself. A good captain went down with the ship. He should be dead.
You're not dead, Admiral. Tekli's voice was compas-sionate but firm. Like I said, I'm not going to let that happen. You and Chimaera are both banged around a little, but recoverable. Just hang in there a little longer, okay?
He gritted his teeth and resigned himself to living a I little longer yet. After all, what choice did he have?
When Jacen felt some of the tension ease in the tiny I Chadra-Fan healer, he leaned forward expectantly.
"He fights with us now," she said, her soft voice barely audible over the mechanical buzzing of the droids as- sisting her. "He no longer works against us."
"You're sure he will live?" he asked, needing something more definite before he would allow himself to feel relief.
She craned her neck to look up at Jacen, something ap- proximating annoyance in her dark eyes.
"Yes," she said simply. "But not if I continue to be in- terrupted. I need to concentrate to help him."
Her head dropped, and she fell silent again to devote her attention fully to healing the Grand Admiral of the Imperial Navy. Jacen felt subtle movements in the Force I around her. He backed away in order to avoid disrupting her concentration further. The Chadra-Fan were renowned for their short attention spans as it was, without his interference making matters worse.
He stayed close enough to lend her a hand if needed-shoring up her relatively weak Force sensitivity with his ; ownbut he did keep to the rear of the small medical bay, just to stay out of Tekli's fur.
Pellaeon had been removed from the bacta tank and now lay on his back on the room's operating table, attended by the frigate's 2-1B medical droid as well as Tekli. His numerous wounds stood out starkly in the harsh white light. Jacen could see far more than he actually needed to know that the man before him had come extremely close to death. His hips and abdomen had been half impaled, half crushed upon a control console when Chimaera's bridge had been rammed by an enemy fighter. One of his junior officers had pulled him from the wreckage and into a medical frigate with survivors of Superior. Under cover of wreckage from the dying Star Destroyer, the frigate had managed to slip away relatively unharmed-although not before a dozen TIE fighters had sacrificed themselves to ensure the Grand Admiral's escape. The commander of the shuttle who had brought him to Yaga Minor didn't doubt that it was worth it.
For a while, though, it had seemed a meaningless sacrifice, for Pellaeon had very nearly died anyway. Sizing up the situation in Yaga Minor with admirable speed, the shuttle's commander had contacted Captain Yage rather than his direct superior in the navy. Yage had ordered the shuttle to dock with Widowmaker immediately to transfer the patient. Tekli and Jacen, weighed down by the healer's equipment, had stayed with the Imperial commander while Jade Shadow withdrew to a discreet distance. As soon as Pellaeon had arrived, wrapped tightly in a life-preserving cocoon, the Chadra-Fan had gone to work.
Jacen marveled how close it had been. First, the shock of removing the ageing admiral from the cocoon had stopped his heart. Then his body had failed to respond to bacta when they had finally gotten him into the tank. Tekli had ordered him to be removed so they could go to work directly on his more serious injuries, such as the ragged gashes and splintered bones of his abdomen and upper legs. Dripping blood and fluid, the old man on the operating table had seemed to deflate under the bright lights, losing substance with every second, until, finally, he began to respond to Tekli's treatment.
The pilot of the shuttle who had brought the admiral from Bastion had stayed with him throughout. A lean young man by the name of Vitor Reige, he looked exhausted and drawn. His left arm was clearly injured, but he refused to have any treatment until Pellaeon was stable, insisting that all attention be focused upon the admiral.
After a few minutes, when it was clear that Pellaeon's condition was going to continue to improve, the pilot exhaled heavily, gratefully, as if he had been holding his breath the entire time he'd been standing there.
He looked over to Jacen. "He told me to find you," he said. "Before he passed out the last time, he insisted I should find you Jedi, if you had come here."
Jacen frowned. "Because he thought we could save
him?"
The man's expression became instantly pinched, as if he was offended by the very notion. "He wanted you to know that we were grateful," he s aid stiffly. "If anyone should bear a grudge against the Empire, it would be you. But you helped us, and he appreciated that. We all did. I wouldn't be here now if you hadn't risked your own lives to show us how to fight those . . ."
He fell quiet, biting down on the words. The memories I of the recent battle were obviously still vivid in his mind.
Sensing the man's embarrassment, Jacen quietly changed the subject by pointing to the arm that Reige was cra- dling. "You really should get that looked at," he said. Before the pilot could voice the same objections that he I had earlier, Jacen quickly added, "He's going to be okay. I Really. Tekli will take care of him."
Vitor Reige nodded his appreciation. "You saved my life, as well as the life of the admiral. I shall forever be in your debt for that."
Jacen wanted to say that he didn't believe in debt, that people should just do what they thought was right regardless of obligation, but at that moment Tekli stepped back from the table and approached the two of them.
"I have done all that needs to be done," she said, her thin shoulders shrugging. "The rest is up to him, now, and how he responds to the bacta."
Jacen watched as the medical droids maneuvered Pellaeon back into the tank. The Grand Admiral twitched as if in a dream as the powerful healing fluids went to work, then settled down into the tank's warm embrace. Convinced there was nothing more that could be done at the moment, Tekli gathered her equipment to leave. Helping her carry her tools, Jacen led her from the infirmary, leaving the droid to tend to Reige. Immediately outside the medical bay they found Captain Yage pacing back and forth in front of the doors. She came to a halt the moment the door slid open and Jacen and Tekli stepped out.
Her anxious gaze fell upon Jacen, who nodded in response to her unvoiced question.
"He'll live," he said.
Like a balloon releasing its air, the tension seemed to evaporate from the captain, dissolving her concerned expression. "I didn't think it could be done," she said, dropping her stare to the Chadra-Fan standing silently and respectfully beside Jacen. "I'm sorry for doubting you. I offer the appreciation of all my people for saving the admiral's life."
The Chadra-Fan bowed her head. "I did not do it alone," she said. "Your admiral's determination to stay alive had a lot to do with it. W
ith the will to live, anything is possible."
"And Gilad Pellaeon certainly has that," Yage said.
The fur around Tekli's mouth parted as she smiled at the captain. "He still has some recuperating to do," she said, "but he should be out of the bacta tank in about six
standard days."
Yage's expression turned from relief to concern again.
"Six days? That's too long!"
"Why?" Jacen asked.
"As far as the Moffs know," she explained, "Gilad died in Bastion. Flennic has had time to put himself in power, assuming control of Stalwart and the rest of the fleet. I wouldn't put it beyond him to do anything to avoid having to relinquish that power, now he's got it. While Gilad is weak, he is vulnerable, and we can't keep the secret of his survival to ourselves forever. Word is already spreading that one more shuttle made it out of Bastion before the battle's end. It won't be much longer before people know who was on that shuttle and where
it docked."
"What will happen when they find out?" She shrugged. "I don't know. That'll be up to Moff Flennic and his underlings," Her comlink bleeped. Listening to the short message, she nodded and answered that she would be there immediately. "I guess we won't have to wait long to find out. We've just received a recall order."
"Can't you disobey it?" asked Jacen,
"If we do, then we're going to have to have a very
good reason."
"Perhaps you should let me talk to them," he said. "Maybe we can work something out."
The captain stared at him for a moment in obvious discomfort and embarrassment. Jacen understood exactly what she was thinking. Here was Yage, a captain of many years' experience from a diametrically opposed military force, and he was expecting her to hand over to him the explanation of why she intended to defy a direct order. But he could see how tempted she was. A Jedi Knight had saved the admiral; perhaps another would take this difficult choice away from her. At the very least, it might absolve her of a wrong decision.
Jacen carefully neglected to mention that his experience with Imperials was virtually nonexistent.
After a few moments' consideration she raised her voice to address the empty corridor "I don't suppose anyone has any better ideas?"
She waited a moment until the silence was as deep as it was ever going to get on an Imperial war vessel.
"Well, I asked," she said, waving Jacen to follow her as she moved off. "Now let's see if you can make this situation any worse for us than it already is."
"Twin Suns Squadron, stand down," came the voice of Captain Mayn over Jag Fel's helmet comlink. "We have attained our orbital insertion and are go for satellite deployment. You may revert to internal command."
"Copy that," he replied briskly before switching to the squadron's internal subspace frequency. To the rest of the squadron he said, "You heard the captain we made it safe and sound. Let's check out the neighborhood before getting too comfy."
Twin Suns Squadron peeled apart into quarters, each accelerating to cover different segments of the world below. From orbit, Galantos possessed an uninviting boggy brown-green color, and at first glance showed little signs of advanced civilization. It didn't take long, however, before the inhabitants of Galantos, the Fia, became aware of the ships in orbit about their planet.
"Unidentified vehicles," came a voice over subspace, "this is Al'solib'minet'ri City Control. Please identify yourselves and state your intentions."
"This is Captain Todra Mayn of the Galactic Federa-tion of Free Alliances' navy frigate Pride of Selonia. Our mission is a peaceful and diplomatic one. We're here to talk to Councilor Jobath."
"Not so fast, Captain Mayn." The voice of the Fia was patient and steady. "You've only identified one ship. I count fourteen."
"That's correct, Control. There's Pride of Selonia, Millennium Falcon, and Twin Suns Squadron." "And you command this mission, Captain?" "Only when it comes to logistical issues such as these. Otherwise, I am under the orders of Leia Organa Solo." "Beneath the Multitude! Leia Organa Solo?" "That's correct, Control."
"Then we extend our warmest welcome to you, Captain," the Fia said effusively. "And, indeed, to all of her companions! And I am sure that Councilor Jobath would be delighted to speak with her once these formalities are out of the way."
"What formalities, Control? We've identified ourselves and stated our intentions. What more?"
"Captain, we on Galantos believe in doing things the proper way." The voice of Al'solib'minet'ri City Control was polite but firm. "We still don't know how long you intend to stay, how many people intend descending to the surface, what the precise purpose of their visit is, where they intend to travel, and so on."
There was a slight pause from Selonia. "Very well, Control," Captain Mayn said wearily. It had been a long journey, literally from one side of the galaxy to the other. "We'll fill you in. Where do you want us to start?"
"Thank you, Captain." Jag could almost hear the prim and smug little smile in the Fia's voice over the comm unit. "First of all, can I have your exact mission designation for our records, please?"
Jag mentally switched off the conversation, leaving those in charge to work out the details. He had enough to think about as it was. As that day's Twin Suns Leader, he was responsible for the smooth running of the squadron on its arrival at a new system. Although he considered that he and Jaina had done a good job on short notice, small wrinkles in their procedures were still being ironed out. His clawcraft had an X-wing on each side, while two claws tailed Jaina's fighter; the same pattern was repeated by the remaining half of the squadron to ensure the components were mixed. This, they knew, would result in some initial awkwardness, but in the long run would ensure that the squadron knit together as a whole.
He banked in a smooth arc, powering for the southern pole over the planet's gelatinous green pond-seas. There was the occasional town and scientific outpost on some of the more firm, rockier areas, but nothing out of the ordinary that he could see.
"All clear at our end, Twin Leader," came Jaina's voice over his comlink.
"Thanks, Two. How about you, Three and Four?"
"Clear skies, Twin Leader."
"Easy picking," added Twin Suns Four, originally from Jag's Chiss Squadron.
"We're not here to stir up any trouble," he reminded his pilots. "So no showing off for the locals."
"From the looks of things, they could use some livening up," Seven commented dryly.
Al'solib'minet'ri City Control was still requesting information from Captain Mayn.
"Do you really need to know the precise location where the Millennium Falcon intends to land?"
"I'm afraid so, Captain Mayn. It'll save trouble in the long run, trust me. And you might also like to tell me who exactly will be comprising the landing party."
The captain sighed; Jag smiled. He was normally something of a stickler for procedures, but the Fia had a tendency to take protocol to ridiculous extremes. If he'd been in Mayn's position right now, he would have just gone ahead and landed anyway, regardless of what Al'solib'minet'ri City Control said. He doubted the consequences would have been too severe. The Fia had no planetary defenses to speak of, so what were they going to do if Captain Mayn decided to disregard their precious procedures?
But then, diplomacy wasn't his strong point. He was quite happy to leave that side of politics to people like Jaina's parentsalthough h e got the distinct feeling that Han Solo would have agreed with him, if pushed.
Captain Mayn's bored reply filled the airwaves "... Cybot Galactica protocol droid See-Threepio, Jedi Knight TahiriVeila..."
Tahiri's name caught his ear. He switched to another channel so he could talk to Jaina without being overheard.
"Did you know Tahiri was going with your parents?" "No," Jaina replied. "But it's not a problem, is it?" Jag didn't answer immediately. He knew that Tahiri was a friend of Jaina's and had been close to her brother Anakin, but that wouldn't have stopped him from expressing a suspicion had he so
mething definite to back him up. But he didn't. There was just her breakdown at Mon Calamari, and something about her behavior. He couldn't put a finger on it, but he felt that something was just not quite right about her.
"I guess not," he said eventually.
He hadn't even been aware that he regarded her any differently than the other members of the mission until the day they left Mon Cal. The departure of the mission had been decidedly more low-key than that of Jade Shadow, even though Leia and Han did have official recognition as envoys of the Galactic Alliance. Chief of State Cal Omas, Supreme Commander Sien Sow, and Kenth Hamner had all put in an appearance to bid them farewell, thankfully without fanfare or speeches. With the Galactic Alliance in good hands, the Millennium Falcon had ferried the pilots of Twin Suns Squadron who weren't already in orbit up to Pride of Selonia, and a brief shaking of hands was held there. Jaina embraced her parents; Jag awkwardly accepted a pat on the shoulder from Han; Captain Todra Mayn, a tall, thin woman with a slight limp, had saluted the assembly with due respect. And that was it, except for a glimpse of Tahiri that Jag had stolen as everyone moved off to their ships. She had been standing at the back of the gathering, carefully removed from the activity. She was still thin, and very pale; the scars from her torture at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong stood out vividly on her forehead. And her eyes . . .
Jag Fel wasn't one for flights of fancy, but he also wasn't one for ignoring what his senses told him, either so when he saw the look of disgust on Tahiri's face and the intense hatred in her eyes, his hand had reached automatically for the blaster at his side. If she was to make any move whatsoever for Jaina or her family, he wanted to be ready. Had she shown any indication of attacking, he would have shot her down without hesitation.
She didn't, though, and the moment had passed uneventfullybut he had still been reluctant to remove his hand from the weapon at his side. It almost seemed to Jag that she had sensed him looking at her, and her gaze had swung over to him. When their stares locked, she was suddenly herself again, and he was left feeling slightly foolish. Whatever it was he had seen in her eyes had gone, replaced with a soft and subtle uncertainty.
Star Wars - The New Jedi Order - Force Heretic I - Remnant - Book 17 Page 15
