by Greg Keyes
For some reason the woman found this amusing. "If you have anything worthwhile to impart, I suggest you stop whining and get to it."
Ta'a Chume turned to Jaina. "I will be off world for a day or so. We will speak again upon my return."
She glided off, and Kyp drew Jaina aside. "You said you were here to learn. Listen carefully, and see if you can wrap your mind around this from now on, anything you do will be cleared through me. You will not assume that my actions, past or present, justify yours."
"Oh, please," Jaina scoffed. "Next thing I know you'll be telling me, 'Do as I say, and not as I do.' "
"That's the general idea."
Her sneer faded. "You're serious."
"As a thermal detonator. Start filling me in."
Jaina nodded. "A quick recap. A yammosk communicates with smaller ships through some sort of telepathy. The daughter ships move, shield, and navigate through gravitic fluctuations. These are both created and received by the dovin basal. Each of these creatures has a genetic imprint, a distinct and unique voice that's formed by its gravitic signals. When the dovin basal picks up information, they know what ship originated it. You with me so far?"
Kyp nodded. "Go on."
"Danni Quee discovered how to jam a yammosk signal we took that one step farther." She described the process Lowbacca had used to isolate and define the pattern of the captured ship's signature.
"The pattern is very subtle. Right now we can disrupt it, using the coral implants."
"Yes, I just saw that demonstrated," Kyp noted.
"We've learned a lot from the skips we've managed to mess up. What we're doing now is trying to get the skip so confused that it loses contact with the yammosk altogether."
"I'd say you're there."
"Next step, then. All skips seem to fly and shield in pretty much the same way. It's the navigation that depends upon unique information. Lowbacca has been working on a small mechanical device, a repulsor, that could mimic the Trickster's gravitic code. This would overlay another ship's 'voice,' letting us create decoys that will lure the Vong into traps. The Yuuzhan Vong are looking for the Trickster. We're going to make sure they find and destroy her-not once, but several times."
He stared at her for a moment, then let out a long, slow whistle. "It's good. I'm in."
Her answering smile reminded him of a predatory tusk-cat. "Lead on, Master Durron."
TWENTY-FOUR
Isolder walked down a row of Wookiees, all intent upon the jumble of small metal parts on the tables before them. The furred technicians hardly seemed to notice his passing.
He turned to his mother. "What is it, precisely, that you wanted me to see?"
The fo rmer queen picked up a small device and handed it to him.
His eyes narrowed as he noticed a strange mark etched into the metal. "I have seen this before, on the dossier of a Yuuzhan Vong spy, a priestess Elan. This is the symbol for Yun-Harla, the Yuuzhan Vong Trickster goddess!"
"Who, it would seem, has been reincarnated here on Hapes," Ta'a Chume said. She swept one hand wide in a gesture that encompassed the vast workroom. "This is Jaina Solo's doing."
Isolder regarded the object in his hand. "What is this?"
"It's a miniature repulsor, and its effect on a ship is hardly noticeable by most measures. But it alters the unique gravity patterns of a Yuuzhan Vong ship just enough to change how other ships perceive it."
"I'm not sure I understand the importance of this."
Ta'a Chume hissed out a sigh. "Your daughter and her Jedi friends stole a Yuuzhan Vong ship. The enemy is rather keen to get it back, not to mention the young
Jedi-and in particular Jaina Solo. They are no doubt looking for the ship, and in time they will come to Hapes. This will confound them, at least for a time. It's a temporary measure."
"But it has promise," Isolder mused. "In conjunction with the Hapan fleet, we might be able to set up an ambush."
The queen smiled faintly. "An excellent suggestion. That's precisely what is needed-experience, mature guidance. Jaina has a natural flair for leadership and strategy, but she lacks the authority to move her plans ahead. As do you," she added. "I've been doing what I can to support her efforts, but my role is also limited. The queen mother is the only one with full authority to authorize such an attack."
Isolder frowned. "Teneniel Djo is unlikely to do this."
"Then replace her. You wanted Leia once, or thought you did. Her daughter would make twice the queen."
"Jaina? She is of an age with my own daughter!" he protested.
"A bit younger, actually. But she has a military background, combat experience, and the sense to listen to suggestions. She has been raised by a diplomat, knows how to act in public, and is highly presentable. You could do worse."
The prince started to object. He shut his mouth abruptly and glanced at the object in his hand.
Not long ago, he had taken the fate of the Hapes Consortium into his hands. His error of judgment had cost hundreds of ships, thousands of lives. Ta'a Chume was offering him another chance to aid his homeworld, a chance to redeem his mistake-a regency of sorts, overseeing the reign of a capable but inexperienced queen. He doubted any such opportunity would come again.
"I will consider it," he said at last.
Lowbacca was not in the tech hall. Jaina asked around and received only furry shrugs and cold stares from the Wookiee techs. Finally she headed off to the Trickster's docking bay.
Her friend was there, but not in the ship. He was perched on the rail of the upper walkway. That provided Jaina with a clue to his state of mind. During their days at the academy, Lowbacca often went off alone to meditate in the treetops of Yavin 4's jungles. Here, in Hapes's royal city, this was as close to the canopies of his home-world as he was likely to find.
Jaina quietly climbed the stairs and leaned onto the rail beside him. "How many did you lose?"
Lowbacca let out a terse yap, a number high enough to make Jaina wince. "If I'd known the Wookiee ships were going to meet with that much resistance, I would have sent an escort."
Her friend looked at her for the first time, and there was no mistaking the rebuke there.
"I know where Harrar's priestship is, and the little fleet connected to his yammosk," Jaina snapped. "I don't know the location of every Sith-spawned hunk of rock in this galaxy! Yet."
Lowbacca's dark eyes searched her face, and he conceded this with a nod. Still, he looked troubled.
"What we're doing is worthwhile. Important. I'm sorry that some of your friends died, but we've got to move forward. The Yuuzhan Vong shapers are fast. They'll figure out what we know and then they'll do something else. Our window is very small."
She leaned toward him. "Are you with me?"
He climbed off the rail.
Anger, like a powerful wind, swept into the docking bay. Jaina sighed. "That would be Kyp."
The Jedi Master stormed into the building and up the
stairs. The guards who moved to stop him flew aside, untouched by any visible hand or weapon.
The Wookiee stepped forward, and Kyp aimed a psychic blast that sent the two-and-a-half-meter, ginger-furred Jedi staggering back.
He seized Jaina with the same dark energy and spun her to face him. "You've been holding out on me again. You've been sending up pilots, Hapan pilots, in ships that give off the Trickster's signal. That's first cousin to a suicide mission!"
"We need more time," Jaina retorted. "We're close to finding a way to lure the Vong into a trap. In the meanwhile, this little diversion is keeping them busy. They're finding my ship all over this quadrant."
Kyp shoved a hand through his hair. "There's a line between dedication and fanaticism. I think you passed it a few kilometers back."
"That's rich, coming from you!" she scoffed. "The Vong are off chasing ghost ships, rather than focusing their energy on attacking Hapes. Fighter pilots know the risks, and they know they're saving thousands of noncombatants."
"Re
sults are not enough," he countered. "Not for you."
She sent him a look of pure disbelief. "I heard what you didn't say," she marveled. "You said, 'Not for you.' What you thought was, Not for Darth Vader's granddaughter."
"You're my responsibility now," Kyp persisted.
Jaina laughed. "I wish Uncle Luke could hear this! Paralysis and inactivity, not the dark side, will overcome the Jedi. Haven't you said that a hundred times?"
He blew out a long sigh. "When is another pilot due to go out?"
"She's powering up now," Jaina admitted.
The older Jedi spun toward the door. Jaina pulled her lightsaber.
Kyp stopped dead at the click and hum unique to the traditional Jedi weapon. He slowly turned to face her, hands raised in a placating gesture. "I don't want to fight you."
Her violet blade rose toward his throat. "You'd change your mind if the stakes were high enough."
"Don't be ridiculous. You wouldn't kill me even if you could!"
"The idea isn't without a certain appeal, but it's not what I had in mind. If I win, you fly the rest of this battle under my command. If you win, I'm yours. No more holding out, no more games. I'll keep the channels open, act like a real apprentice."
He considered her for a long moment. "Done."
His lightsaber leapt from his belt, flipped in midair, and slapped down into his hand. The glowing blade hissed toward her. Jaina vaulted above the flamboyant attack and flipped over Kyp's head. He rolled aside to avoid a possible slashing counter and came up in a crouch.
Jaina backed down the stairs, her weapon at high guard. He advanced, then darted forward with a quick feinting lunge.
She anticipated his move and leaned away from it, then quickly changed directions and lunged for him, sweeping her arm up into a rising parry that threw his lightsaber out wide. Her wrist twisted deftly to disengage the shining blades, and then she leapt straight up.
Kyp somersaulted down the stairs, turned, and came up with his lightsaber held high and ready. The younger Jedi dropped to the floor beside him and delivered two quick, testing jabs. He parried both. They drew apart and circled, taking each other's measure, exchanging blows that became less tentative with each strike.
Jaina's confident smile began to falter. "I'm not going to let you stop this next flight."
She whirled away from Kyp's high, slashing attack and caught his weapon in an overhead parry. A quick twist brought her around to face him. He disengaged and stepped back. "Who said I wanted to stop the mission? I want to fly it."
Jaina blinked. "You do?"
"If the mission is that important, I'll go myself."
"Forget it. The Jedi are too few and too valuable to risk."
"I know," he agreed, "and that's precisely why I need to go."
She stepped back, still in guard position, and eyed him warily.
"Let's just say I'm taking my responsibilities seriously. I don't want my apprentice to make some of the same mistakes I made."
Jaina's lightsaber flashed forward, forcing him to parry. "What apprentice? You haven't beaten me yet."
"I will," he said with a cocky smile. "And we both know it. We also know how difficult expectations can be. You've got to live up to your famous parents, which in some ways is even more difficult than living down a monumental failure."
"You can't compare our situations."
"We both lost brothers."
"And maybe hitting the Yuuzhan Vong hard will give some meaning to my brothers' deaths."
"I tried to avenge my brother," Kyp reminded her, "and I ended up killing him. Your mother thinks Jacen's still alive. What if she's right?"
Jaina lowered her lightsaber, and her face was a study of stunned fury. The older Jedi shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, gaining balance in preparation for the coming attack.
But Jaina switched off her weapon. "You want the mission?
Take it. But you'd better survive it. We're not finished here. Not by a long shot."
She stormed out of the docking bay, leaving Kyp staring thoughtfully after her.
Jag Fel came into the docking bay in time to catch part of the battle, and some of the conversation. He began to understand Tenel Ka's concern for Jaina, and on impulse he sprinted over, catching her by the back exit.
He skidded to a stop and suddenly realized that he had no idea what to say. Jaina eyed him warily.
"I came to thank you for your help," he said.
"What are you talking about?"
By now he'd fallen into more of a rhythm. "Word has it that you've been recruiting Hapan pilots, getting them back into the skies. I don't have enough scouts to cover this area. Every set of ey es helps. And when the time comes to fight, there will be more pilots prepared and aware."
Some of the ice around Jaina's heart seemed to melt just a bit. For some reason, Jag's comment took some of the sting out of her recent encounter with Kyp. "We all do what we can."
"You and your family have given more than most," he observed. "Forgive me, but I heard what Kyp Durron said to you. I know how difficult these times can be. I, too, lost two siblings in battle."
Jaina bristled. "So what are you saying? That my loss is no greater than anyone else's? Anakin and Jacen no more important than any other casualty?"
Too late, Jag realized that this was not the sort of truth that a grieving person could absorb. "That's not what I intended to portray."
Her ire faded quickly. "Forget it." She blew her bangs away from her eyes, a small gesture that seemed incredibly
weary. "So why did you come? You're not usually one for Smalltalk."
And that, Jag noted, was the dilemma. He couldn't exactly blurt out, "Don't marry Prince Isolder."
"You have a natural gift for leadership," he continued. "People will follow you, whether you want them to or not. Rank is not important to someone like you."
Jaina's face went very still. "This is all very interesting, but where is it going?"
"I just wanted to express an opinion," he said, feeling incredibly awkward. "The rank you were born with suits you very well. Anything more would be redundant."
"I see," she said in a flat tone. "Coming from the son of Baron Fel-a jumped-up Corellian dirt farmer-that's worth about as much as Ithorian currency."
Jag began to feel his own temper rise. "Why must you take offense at every turn?"
"Why must you answer questions that no one bothered to ask?" she returned heatedly.
To Jag's astonishment, she turned and fled. He watched her go, wondering what meaning she might have heard in his words that he had never intended to place there.
Jaina slowed to a walk as soon as she left the docking bay behind, but her heart held pace, hammering in her ears.
What was Jag Fel's problem? Sure, maybe she'd flirted with him a little at the diplomatic dinner, but had she ever given him reason to warn her off?
Keep to her rank. Yeah, right. Keep out of his, most likely!
For some reason the notion of a Baroness Jaina must have crawled up his exhaust and nested, and, honorable and forthright guy that he was, he just had to let her know that this wasn't in the sabacc cards. Well, thanks for the clarification, but who asked?
Jaina took a long, steadying breath and tried to banish Jag Fel from her thoughts. He was a distraction, and that was the last thing she needed right now. She'd been surprised by Jag's visit, but she wasn't even sure if she cared enough to be angry about it.
But she kicked at a parked repulsorsled, just in case she was.
TWENTY-FIVE
Harrar's priestship and its military escort approached the Hapes Cluster, following the reports of sightings of their stolen frigate.
"There," Khalee Lah said, stabbing at the living map with a taloned finger.
Tiny, luminous creatures moved slowly across the screen, marking the place where the yammosk had discerned the signature of the stolen ship. There was a definite pattern. The thief was venturing farther out of Hapan space each ti
me. The next foray would take her directly into the priestship's path.
The warrior glanced at Harrar, his split lips stretched in a leer of anticipation. "The warmaster will have his Jeedai sacrifice. We hunt," he snapped at the crew. "Summon every ship within communication range that has engaged this would-be Trickster. She has hidden long enough in the shadow of Yun-Harla. Soon those who whisper words of heresy will see this infidel for the pitiful creature she is!"
As the crew hurried to do Khalee Lah's bidding, Harrar settled down in an observation seat and prepared to watch the battle. A now familiar prickle edged down his spine as he prepared to confront the Jeedai.
Khalee Lah took the command chair. His long, knobby finger caressed the nodes as he gathered information. "The Ksstarr is approaching."
The priest glanced toward his commander. "Alone?" "With an escort." The warrior's sneer was visible beneath the hood. "One small ship."
A strange wave of disappointment swept through Harrar. He had expected better from Jaina Solo. "Capture them both."
When Kyp emerged from hyperspace, his controls immediately began to flash warnings. The programmed hyperspace jump had brought him directly between two flanks of Yuuzhan Vong ships. Immediately all the lights began to converge on his location. Soon they'd be in visual range, and they would know that he wasn't flying the stolen Yuuzhan Vong frigate. More, they'd know that there was no Trickster-except for the one who'd sent an X-wing up to project the stolen ship's unique signal.
"Planned this a bit tight, didn't you, Jaina?" he murmured. A sharp jolt hit Kyp's fighter, and sensors flared out a low-shield warning signal. One of the ships was using its dovin basal to strip off his shields.
Kyp boosted up the inertial compensator, expanding the protection this system gave to ship and pilot several meters and moving it out beyond the ship's normal shields-a trick invented by Gavin Darklighter early in the war. Even as he did, he realized that this was no solution. Gavin had not been flying alone.
Two coralskippers closed in, and again Kyp felt the tug and pull of the gravity beams. He dialed down the inertial compensator. Too much stress, and it could pull the ship apart from the inside.
