Star Wars The New Jedi Order - Dark Journey - Book 10

by Greg Keyes

  Jaina clicked on the comm. "Zekk, if you can lock down the breached chamber, do it. Just in case."

  "Already done."

  She turned her attention to the task of flying the ship- and keeping a mental connection open to her fellow pilot. Talking was useless, for there were no words to equate one technology with the other. The two pilots communicated through feelings, impressions, adjusting their speed and direction to match each other precisely. Jaina had jokingly described their shared flight as a dance, and that's precisely what it felt like-a dance between enormous, mismatched partners.

  All went well until they entered Hapes's atmosphere. The Trickster shuddered as the dovin basal adjusted for the planet's gravity. A loud, groaning creak announced that the heat and turbulence of reentry was straining the seal between the ships. The messages coming to Jaina through the cognition hood were garbled, as if the ship were confused.

  Suddenly Jaina was none too happy about their chances. She tossed a look over her shoulder. Tahiri was right behind her, a place she seemed to be taking with increasing frequency. "Tahiri, you've flown in these things before. How did you land?"

  "We crashed, mostly," the girl admitted.

  The ship shook and pitched as it neared the ground. "It's panicking," Jaina realized. "It thinks the attached ship is pulling it down."

  "Let me try," Tahiri offered, prodding Lowbacca out of the navigation chair. She pulled on the hood. After a moment she shook her head. "No good. It's not listening anymore."

  "You hear that, Zekk?" she called through the comm.

  "Cut us loose," he said tersely.

  Jaina relayed her intention to the ship and then wrenched the frigate to one side. The seal released at once, and the Trickster soared away from the pirate ship.

  Her heart crawled into her throat as she watched the damaged ship spiral slowly toward the ground. It was scant meters from crashing before Zekk finally managed to pull out of the spin. He brought the ship into a rising turn, then slowed to a hover as the repulsor engines came on. The cargo ship lowered onto the landing dock, coming to rest heavily but safely.

  To Jaina's relief, the Trickster calmed and followed its erstwhile partner down to the dock. As soon as the Yuu-zhan Vong frigate set down, she suggested that it rest and then yanked off the hood.

  The other Jedi had left the ship by the time she finished shutting down. When she reached the open hatch, she noted them standing together in a tight knot. Several Hapan military officials supervised the removal of the fighter ships from the cargo hold of the captured vessel; others led the pirates away.

  Jaina hurried down the ramp, and her eyes sought out

  Zekk. "You didn't have a choice," he said before she could speak. "There were two people on my ship, twenty on yours. I would have done the same thing."

  Jaina nodded her thanks. Before she could say anything, Tahiri caught the arm of a passing docking official. "How can we get a repulsorsled? We have a casualty aboard. We need to take him to his parents in the refugee camp."

  The woman pulled away and swept a hand toward the grassy area beyond the dock. Rows of wounded lay on white pallets. Sheets had been pulled up over many of them. "I'm sorry, but yours is hardly a unique situation."

  Jaina's eyes narrowed. She came to stand at Tahiri's side, faced down the official and moved her hand in a slight subtle gesture. "You will find Han and Leia Solo in the refugee camp and inform them that their daughter has arrived."

  The official's eyes widened, only partly due to the subtle Jedi compulsion. "This casualty you spoke of. That wouldn't be Anakin Solo, would it?"

  This set Jaina back on her heels. "You've heard?"

  "Who hasn't!" she said, her tones rounded with near reverence. "The HoloNet-or what's left of it-has been playing Princess Leia's exhortation to the people of Coruscant almost nonstop since the battle. Of course I'll send word!"

  The woman hurried off. Tahiri shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and glanced back toward the Yuuzhan Vong ship. Impatience and repugnance came off her in waves, and an almost frantic desire to get away. Still, Jaina couldn't see wandering around the refugee camp with this particular cargo in tow.

  "Maybe we should wait for my parents here," Jaina suggested.

  Green fire flared in Tahiri's eyes. "How can you think

  about leaving Anakin in there one nanosecond longer than we have to!"

  Jaina was about to point out that Anakin was past caring about such things. Yet it was hard to forget the grim compulsion that had driven her to recover her brother's body from the worldship, at great risk to herself and the other Jedi.

  She tamped down her impatience. "Be practical. We can't exactly cruise around Hapes with a repulsorsled. My parents will want a funeral-well, my mother will, anyway-and she'll make sure everything is handled in a dignified, proper fashion."

  The official hurried back, followed by a repulsorsled and two somber-faced assistants. "They look sort of dignified," Tahiri ventured.

  "All right," she conceded. "They can get him off the ship." She told them where to find her brother's body. In short order they emerged from the ship, flanking a white-draped sled. Tahiri's eyes filled.

  Jaina abruptly turned and put several quick paces between herself and the young Jedi. She folded her arms and leaned against the Trickster, staring out over the bustling docks.

  Before long she noted a two-person landspeeder skimming toward them. Almost before it stopped, Leia flung herself from it and hurried to her daughter, her eyes bright with relief.

  She stopped abruptly when her gaze fell on the sled, and the color drained from her face.

  "We brought Anakin with us," Jaina said. "Jacen we couldn't get to. I'm sorry."

  Leia took a long, steadying breath and tilted her chin into its familiar, imperious angle. From the corner of her eye, Jaina noticed Tahiri mirroring the older woman's gesture, as if the outer form might serve as a vessel to hold something of Leia's strength.

  She stepped forward and embraced her daughter. "Don't worry about Jacen," she said softly. "He might seem fragile at times, but he's a survivor."

  Jaina stiffened, startled by her mother's comment. Leia was as sensitive to the Force as any trained Jedi, and in Jaina's opinion, the epitome of grace under pressure. How could she block this?

  Her eyes sought out her father's face. Han looked from her to Leia, his eyes wary. He must have read the truth in Jaina's eyes, because suddenly the color seeped from his face, leaving it gray and haggard and.. . old.

  And suddenly Jaina had one more reason to hate the Yuuzhan Vong.

  Her gaze slid away from the shattered face of the man who was both her father and her childhood hero. She eased out of her mother's embrace, keeping her hands on Leia's shoulders. "Mom, Jacen is gone. We all felt it." One way or another, she added silently.

  The older woman shook her head. "He's still alive," she stated, quietly but with implacable conviction.

  For a moment Jaina was at a complete loss for words. She stepped aside so that Leia could confront at least one of the grim realities before her.

  For a long moment the woman stood, gazing at the still, white-draped form of her youngest child. Her eyes welling with unshed tears, she reached out a shaking hand to fold down the drape covering Anakin's face. One droplet traced a wet path down her cheek and she brushed it away, blinking hard. Han, his own eyes glistening, came to her side and took her hand. But when she looked up at Jaina, blinking back tears, Leia's voice was steady.

  "Was it hard?"

  Jaina glanced at the bier. "Let's just say he didn't make it easy for them."

  "He wouldn't," Leia said with a faint, sad smile. "But I

  was asking about you. I was among the Yuuzhan Vong briefly, so I have some idea of what you might have faced- what Jacen might still be facing. But I survived, and so did you. And so will Jacen. We have to believe that."

  Leia gazed at her fallen son for a long moment. Softly, she stroked his cheek, then bent to kiss
his forehead. At last, she turned and bega n to walk ahead. Her husband and daughter exchanged a helpless glance and then fell into place on either side.

  "About Jacen," Han ventured, his voice shaking a little. "I don't want to believe it, either, but. .. There's got to be a way to make sure. Maybe Luke could-"

  "No," Leia said firmly. "He couldn't. Jacen is alive. I know it. I just can't explain why I know it, or how."

  "We all felt Jacen's presence," Jaina said. She added carefully, "It seemed like... a farewell."

  "I felt that, too. But there's a difference between closing down and winking out. I felt Anakin's death. Not Jacen's."

  "Neither did I, and I'm his twin." She took a deep breath. "Mom, I think you need to consider the possibility that you might be in denial. A mother's intuition is a powerful thing, but so are the instincts of half a dozen fully trained Jedi."

  "Don't start in on your mother," Han cautioned. "Not again, and especially not now."

  Jaina sent him an incredulous stare.

  "Don't look at me like I just kicked an Ewok," Han said. "I've heard about some of the comments you've made, about her not working at being a Jedi, not being there as a mother." He stabbed a finger in her direction. "No more."

  For several moments, father and daughter faced each other wearing identical expressions of outrage. Then Jaina bobbed her head in a curt nod.

  "All right, maybe I've said some things in the past

  couple of years that I'm not proud of. But would you want to be judged on the three or four worst comments you've made since this war started?"

  Han's silence was more eloquent than words.

  "Don't judge me for a few stupid remarks," she repeated softly. She and Leia locked stares. "Somehow, I doubt that Mom does."

  Her mother smiled faintly. "I was younger than you when I joined the Senate. Almost immediately I started using my position to cover my work with the Rebellion. Bail Organa tried to dissuade me. I called him a coward."

  "Well, there you go," Jaina said, as if that settled everything.

  Han's gaze shifted from his wife to his daughter. Never had the resemblance between them been stronger than at this moment. He shook his head in bemusement. "And here I thought I was outnumbered by the Vong," he muttered.

  Jaina enfolded him in a quick, hard hug. "Take care of Mom," she whispered.

  Han held her off at arm's length and glanced toward the group of solemn young Jedi gathering around Anakin's bier. "You're not staying?"

  "I've said my good-byes." Jaina pulled free, exchanged another look with her mother, then strode off without a backward glance.

  It was pure instinct that sent Han after her. Leia stopped him abruptly, one hand on his chest.

  "She's your daughter," Leia reminded him. "She has to deal with loss in her own way and in her own time."

  Han considered this. The expression on his face was that of a man who gazed into a mirror and disliked what he saw. He grimaced and passed one hand over his face.

  "She's my daughter," he admitted, "and I'm an idiot."

  His eyes held apology for all he'd done and said in the

  months following Chewbacca's death. Leia manufactured a shaky smile. "Don't be too hard on yourself."

  "Yeah, well." He fell silent, and his gaze shifted slowly, reluctantly toward the draped sled.

  "I hope Anakin saw things the same way Jaina does," he said at last. "I'd hate to think he judged me-or worse yet, himself-by the stupidest three or four things I've said since this war started."

  "He knows," she said. "And he doesn't."

  He looked at her, his expression wistful. "You sound so sure. You're sure about Jacen, too, aren't you?"

  "Yes."

  Han considered this, nodded. "That's good enough for me."

  Leia's heart overflowed. She went into Han's arms- the last sure haven in the galaxy-and turned her face into his chest to hide the tears she could no longer contain.

  FIFTEEN

  Jaina's pace quickened as she left the docks at a dead run, as if she could outpace the memory of her father's face when he'd realized that both his sons were gone. Before she knew it, she was churning along, weaving mindlessly through the turmoil of ships, overworked officials, and confused refugees. She paused only long enough to duck into one of the public refreshers most docking areas provided as a convenience to pilots-and then only long enough to sonic off the worst of the grime.

  Feeling somewhat calmer, she set a direct course for the palace. Its labyrinthine marble halls were the best place she could think of to lose herself for a while.

  Ta'a Chume's efficiency confronted her at every turn. Palace guards ushered her through; servants offered refreshment and then quietly withdrew when she waved them away.

  Moving on autopilot, she found her way into a courtyard garden and down shaded paths that seemed designed with solitude and secrecy in mind. She slumped down on the moss-covered rocks artfully piled beside a carved bench and finally allowed herself to feel.

  What she felt, mostly, was numb.

  Since leaving Myrkr, her path had seemed clear. The first order of business was to survive, to finish the task Anakin had passed to Jacen, to bring the other young Jedi to a place of safety. And after that, to rescue Jacen.

  Jaina hadn't allowed herself to think of anything else, to feel anything that might distract her from these goals. Her headlong progress had been stopped short, and she felt as dazed as if she'd flown a landspeeder into a tree.

  She felt the approach of a powerful presence, and glanced up as a tall, graceful woman emerged from the shadows of a fruit arbor and glided purposefully down the path toward her. The woman wore a softly draping gown, and her russet hair gleamed above the scarlet veil covering the lower half of her face. Feeling resigned but not at all surprised, Jaina rose and dipped into a bow.

  Ta'a Chume waved away the formalities. The former queen mother settled down on the bench and motioned for Jaina to join her. She removed her veil, revealing a still-elegant face distinguished by fine, sharp bones. "It is good to see you alive and well, Jaina. I heard about your brothers."

  Jaina took the offered place beside Ta'a Chume and braced herself for yet another round of meaningless condolences.

  This response seemed to amuse the former queen. "I take it you've had your fill of platitudes and exhortations?"

  "You might say that."

  "Then let's get to the heart of the matter. Your brothers are dead, and those responsible still live. The only reasonable question is, what are you going to do about it?"

  There was something refreshing about plain speech, and even an odd sort of comfort. "That's the question, all right."

  The older woman patted her shoulder. "You will find your way to an answer soon, of that I am certain. And tonight will be an excellent time to start. There will be a diplomatic dinner at the palace, and you would do well to attend. Now, then," she said briskly, "I suggest that we find you a suitable gown and gems." Her eyes slid

  quickly over Jaina's stringy brown hair. "And perhaps a hairstylist."

  Jaina shrugged this off. "I'm a pilot. Appearances aren't important to what I do."

  "That's quite apparent," Ta'a Chume murmured. But her eyes slid over the young woman, taking stock, measuring potential. A speculative gleam entered her eyes. "Tell me, do you wish to avenge your brothers?"

  Jaina attempted to plot a direct path between these two topics but quickly gave up the effort. "I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes, I suppose I do."

  As she said the words, Jaina realized the truth of them. All her life she'd heard that anger and revenge were paths to the dark side. At this moment, that hardly seemed to matter-in fact, such concerns struck her as petty and self-indulgent. The galaxy was fighting for survival, and the Jedi weren't doing much better on that score than anyone else.

  She realized that Ta'a Chume had been speaking for several moments and focused her attention back to the former queen.

  "In order to ac
hieve this, you will need to win support from the Hapan military," Ta'a Chume concluded. "Beauty is a tool to be used, just like intelligence or talent or power or even this Force of yours. Don't disdain it."

  "It's more important on Hapes than in most places. More common, too." Jaina shrugged. "No matter what I do, I'd fall short of your world's standards."

  "Nonsense, on all counts. I suspect that you possess many resources you have not yet considered."

  Jaina regarded the older woman. The former queen was a powerful presence in the Force, yet she possessed formidable shields. Jaina could get no sense of what she was thinking, but she took what she knew of Ta'a Chume and made some assumptions.

  "You want something from me," she said bluntly. "Forgive me, but I'm running short on time and illusions."

  Ta'a Chume smiled, not at all offended. "All I ask is that you keep your mind open to all possibilities. These are strange times, and you may find yourself in a position to accomplish things you never dreamed possible. Now, about that gown."

  She rose and headed for the palace. After a moment, Jaina followed. Ta'a Chume had access to ships, fuel, and ammunition-all the things Jaina would need to take the fight to the Yuuzhan Vong-and apparently the former queen was willing to trade.

  Jaina had no idea what currency Ta'a Chume had in mind, but that didn't particularly worry her. She almost looked forward to matching wits with someone who'd made an art form of deception and intrigue. Like light-saber practice, it might serve to sharpen her wits and skills in preparation for a real battle.

  And unlike Ta'a Chume, Jaina had the Force with her. Light or dark-it didn't matter. Those distinctions seemed artificial to her, half-understood concepts whose time was done. As Kyp Durron had said, this was their time, their war. The younger Jedi needed to decide what to do and how to do it, and then live with the results.

  For the first time a ti nge of unease darkened Jaina's thoughts. "Hurling black lightning is one thing," she muttered, "but quoting Kyp Durron puts me lower than I ever expected to get."

  The comm unit in Kyp Durron's X-wing crackled. "Vanguard Three, acknowledge."

  The calm, emotionless tone of Jag Fel's voice set the Jedi's teeth on edge, but he clicked the channel open. "Sir," he said in ironic imitation of the Chiss woman's stern military manner.