The Chiss ship spun away from the Hornet and began to climb, positioning for a diving attack. Kyp realized the strategy and came in from the opposite side. The two ships dived toward the Hornet, showering the midsection with laserfire.
Red heat began to pulse through the rear fuselage. The two scouts veered aside as the ship exploded from within.
Smart move, Kyp congratulated silently. Turbocharged laser cannons were as much a liability to the Hornets as they were an advantage—even a few shots could render the big guns unstable. Still, Jag Fel’s approach to the problem was as crazy as any airborne stunt Kyp had ever pulled.
But the young commander seemed unimpressed with his own daring. He was already on the comm, scanning for any ship close enough to pick up the evacuated pilots.
Once Jag had ensured retrieval of the surviving pirates, the two scouts fell into the side-by-side formation the Chiss-taught commander seemed to favor.
“So,” Kyp said conversationally, “is that your idea of practicing maneuvers?”
For several moments the only response to his rhetorical question was the faint crackle of an open comm. “You approached the Hornets without waiting for my command. Is this common practice?”
“For me? Absolutely.”
“I was referring to the New Republic in general. Gathering information is a vital function, but to whom should I report? I’m accustomed to clear chain of command, and the efficiency that results. While I understand that the fall of Coruscant dealt an enormous blow to the New Republic, the survivors seem fractured and contentious.”
“No argument here,” Kyp said, “but for the record, I haven’t been using the term New Republic for years. A government is like a fighter ship: after the first couple of decades it picks up a few dings and loses its shiny new look.”
“Point noted. Given my upbringing, I frequently have to remind myself not to refer to you as the Rebel Alliance,” Jag said with a touch of wry amusement. “I don’t wish to offend, but it’s a mystery to me that you managed to defeat the Empire.”
“We have our moments,” he said in a dry tone. “The Republic’s utter lack of direction is actually a clever ploy to confuse our enemies.”
“And that works?”
“Not that I’ve noticed, no.”
Jag lapsed into thoughtful silence. “I appreciate your candor, and your willingness to hear me out. Would you be offended by a personal question?”
“That seems unlikely. Go ahead.”
“Why is Jaina Solo so angry at you?”
An irrational flicker of irritation shimmered through the Jedi Master. “Oh, that. It’s a long story with a number of sordid chapters. Why not ask her yourself?”
“Two reasons. First, I don’t wish to intrude upon personal matters. Second, I suspect that you did resent that question,” observed Jag, “and I suspect that sending me to Jaina is your way of ensuring that I’m suitably punished for my presumption.”
This canny observation annoyed Kyp, and then amused him. “Depends what you consider personal. She helped me bring the Republic into a strike on a Yuuzhan Vong shipyard. The Vong were building new worldships there. I wanted her to believe they were superweapons. Once convinced, she was very convincing.”
“Ah.”
“Ah?” he repeated. “That’s it? You’re not going to lecture me on the evils of aggression?”
Jag considered this for a moment. “I was raised and trained among the Chiss. To them, first-strike tactics are unthinkable, dishonorable. We are defenders, not aggressors. But in this conflict, can we really argue that carefully considered aggression is different from holding back until the enemy strikes first? We know from the onset that battle is inevitable.”
Another convincing voice, Kyp mused. It was difficult to miss the spark of interest between Jag Fel and Jaina. The two of them, with a little guidance and a nudge or two in the right direction, could become a very potent force. He briefly pondered the possibilities of this, and the logistics.
“Your father’s a baron, right?”
“He is. Why do you ask?”
“Diplomatic vessels have been coming in from all over the cluster. Word has it there’s a state dinner at the palace this evening. If you want to talk to Jaina, that title might get you invited.”
“The palace?” Jag echoed incredulously. “She is not with her parents?”
“Not from what I hear.”
A long, astonished sigh hissed through the comm. “That, I do not understand. I also lost two siblings in battle. At such times, family provides much-needed support.”
“She has friends in the palace. Jedi,” Kyp specified. He let that remark lie where it fell.
“I see.”
Jag’s cool tone suggested that enough had been said on this subject. Kyp considered and discarded several nextstep remarks, searching for the words most likely to move the young pilot in the desired direction. “Do you believe in destiny?”
“If you mean the faithful development of inborn abilities and adherence to the duty at hand, then yes, I do.”
“Close enough. Have you considered the possibility that the people in this galaxy simply don’t know what to do about the Yuuzhan Vong, and never will? That perhaps the answer will come from an outsider’s perspective?”
“I hadn’t thought in quite those terms, no.”
Kyp considered the wreckage of the Hornet Interceptors and the skill and conviction of the young commander from the Unknown Regions. “Well, maybe you should.”
SIXTEEN
Tenel Ka made her way across the ridge of the palace armory’s steeply sloped roof, running lightly and in perfect balance. The sprawling inner courtyard lay below her, and from this vantage she commanded a clear view of the west gate. Several guards were stationed on either side of the portal, which was used only by members of the royal family. Her father was due to return shortly, and a strong premonition prompted Tenel Ka to set her own watch.
She sped up as she approached the end of the roof and hurled herself into the air. Soaring over the three-meter divide without benefit of her Jedi powers, she landed in a crouch on the lower, flatter roof of the palace kitchens.
As she sprinted toward the western edge of the roof, she scanned the gardens and pens below. Guards walked the parameters of the palace walls, vigilant against threats to the royal family, but from time to time they seemed to forget how many royals had fallen to members of their own household. Other than the garden maze, the kitchen wing offered the best potential ambush sites. It was also conveniently situated right next to the west bailey.
The brazen keening of dugglehorns cleaved the air, announcing Prince Isolder’s approach. Tenel Ka crouched and crept cautiously to the edge of the roof.
Several cooks stood at a long wooden table, transforming a small mountain of game birds into the main course for the evening feast. The steady thump of the cleaver set a counterpoint to the chatter of the young boys who plucked the feathers. Beyond this scene of domestic slaughter lay the herb garden. Two men in loose Hapan tunics picked bitter herbs for salad. Both wore hoods to protect their skin from the bright afternoon sun. More servants went about other tasks—picking berries for pastries, lugging foaming pails of cream from the milk house, scything down clusters of nuts.
Tenel Ka’s cool gray eyes darted over gardens and outbuildings, looking for anything that seemed out of place. All appeared to be as it should be. She watched as one of the older men climbed the stairs to the blizcot, a large birdhouse that enticed the plump little bliz to enter and nest. Their tiny, pink-shelled eggs were a Hapan delicacy and would certainly be included on the evening menu. The old man climbed slowly, hauling himself along the railing with one hand and clutching an egg basket with the other.
A very large egg basket.
The Jedi warrior ripped a flat stone tile from the roof and rose to her feet. Three things happened in rapid succession:
The west gate opened to admit Isolder. The “old man” whipped a blaster from
the oversized basket and pointed it at the prince. Tenel Ka hurled the tile with all her strength, sending it spinning toward the assassin.
Her aim held true, and the tile struck the arm holding the weapon with a force that spun the assassin around and sent him tumbling down the stairs. The shot went wild, pinging down into the orchards, sending golden fruit plummeting and launching birds into startled, squawking flight.
The palace guards were upon the assassin before he’d reached the bottom. Ubris, an impressive female warrior who’d been with the prince since before Tenel Ka was born, hauled the assailant to his feet and jerked off the hood.
A hush fell over the courtyard. The assassin was a young woman, and her face was familiar to them all.
Tenel Ka climbed down a trellis and stalked toward the defiant woman. She stopped a few paces away and gazed into a face very like her own.
“Greetings, cousin,” she said coolly. “Aunt Chelik must be desperate for the throne if she is willing to sacrifice her own daughter to get it.” Without waiting for a response, she turned to the guard and nodded. Ubris hauled the traitor away.
Tenel Ka took a long breath, for she understood the sentence awaiting her blood kin. An attack against a member of the royal family was punishable by death, but recently this law had proved an insufficient deterrent. At this rate, the prison yards would soon rival the palace kitchens for legal carnage!
She turned away and went to greet her father. The prince stood inside the west bailey, listening to his bodyguard’s description of the near escape. He was a tall man with a fighter’s disciplined physique. Pale gold hair was pulled severely back into a single thick braid, framing a face that was exceptionally handsome even by Hapan standards. From a few paces away, he didn’t look much older than Ganner Rhysode. Only the fine lines around his eyes and the weariness in them suggested the weight of his years.
The gaze he turned upon Tenel Ka was both proud and somber. “Princess, they tell me that I owe you my life. Clear thinking, quick action—essential qualities for a ruler.”
Tenel Ka suppressed a sigh and turned up her cheek for her father’s kiss. “Welcome home. You had a profitable trip?”
“Walk with me, and I’ll tell you about it.” He smiled down at her. “But please—not on the rooftops.”
They left the kitchen area for the protected inner gardens. Even there, Tenel Ka kept alert, scanning the arbors and alcoves for signs of movement, comparing the length and shape of shadows to the objects that cast them.
“You know of course that your mother has opened Hapes to refugees,” Prince Isolder began.
Tenel Ka’s face clouded with dismay at her father’s formal, distant tone. Things between her parents had been strained for quite some time.
“The people displaced by war need a haven,” she observed.
“I don’t disagree. But the queen mother’s decision ensures that we will face the invaders. I’ve spent much of the last year finding and studying what information we have been able to amass. The more we understand these Yuuzhan Vong, the better our chances of survival.”
It was on the tip of the Jedi woman’s tongue to say that she knew far more about the invaders than she wished to.
“You were among them for a time,” he went on. “Tell me what you learned.”
One grim picture after another flashed into Tenel Ka’s mind: scenes from the terrible days of captivity in the Yuuzhan Vong worldship, the battle that followed, the agony of leaving behind the young man she had loved since girlhood. What could she tell her father of this?
“They are devoted to their religion,” she said at last.
He nodded. “I have read the debriefing given Elan, the traitor priestess. The Yuuzhan Vong venerate two gods in particular: Yun-Harla, the Trickster goddess, and Yun-Yammka, the Slayer. Battle and deceit—these are the enemy’s passions.”
“We spoke to two of the Yuuzhan Vong through their villips,” Tenel Ka related. “One of them made mention of this Yun-Harla. Jaina named the stolen ship Trickster in an attempt to annoy and distract them. She succeeded.”
“From what I know of the Yuuzhan Vong, they would see that as blasphemy,” Isolder agreed.
She leaned forward, her gray eyes intense. “Of what significance are twins?”
Isolder thought this over. “Judging from the information available, twin births seem to be uncommon among the Yuuzhan Vong. I can recall three mentions. Each was thought to be a portent of some great event. In each, one twin killed the other as a prelude to some great destiny.”
Tenel Ka nodded thoughtfully. “And if one twin dies in some other fashion?”
“I don’t know. It seems likely that the survivor will still be viewed as an important person. Why do you ask?”
“Jacen Solo is dead,” she said bluntly, “and the Yuuzhan Vong know he has a twin sister.”
Isolder sent her a sympathetic look. “I see.”
“With respect, I don’t think you do. I fear for Jaina’s safety, yes, but the Yuuzhan Vong can do far worse than kill. Tahiri, Anakin Solo’s friend, was captured on Yavin Four and turned over to the shapers. They scarred her body and implanted memories in her mind in an attempt to make her over into something more like them.”
“Jaina is not under their power.”
“Not directly, no. But if the Yuuzhan Vong perceive her to be the central figure in some important event, they may create a situation that will force her into that role. It is a form of shaping.”
Isolder gave her shoulder a comforting pat. “She is a strong-willed and resourceful young woman.”
“Fact,” Tenel Ka agreed, “but the path she is taking concerns me. In claiming affinity to their Trickster goddess, she has thrown down a challenge they cannot refuse. And in taking on this role, she has already begun to assimilate the Yuuzhan Vong’s expectations. I do not like to contemplate what Jaina’s ‘great destiny’ might be, as defined by these invaders and her response to them.”
“Is this so different from what we all must do? No one is born free of the burden of expectations.”
She cut him off with a swiftly upraised hand. “If you’re trying to nudge me onto the throne of Hapes, you might as well save your time and mine.”
Her father was silent for several moments. “You have seen your mother since your return?”
“Of course!”
“Then you have seen the truth: if you do not take the throne, someone else will have to.”
Tenel Ka began to pace, trying to think of some rebuttal. But the specter of Queen Mother Chelik was all too credible. The woman was niece to Ta’a Chume and a legitimate heir. She would swiftly repudiate her daughter’s attempt on Isolder’s life, and no one would be able to prove her involvement. But Tenel Ka would know, of course, and so would her ailing mother.
No wonder Hapes had a history of distrust for those with Jedi powers! The ruling queen mothers survived by their ability to dissemble and manipulate. They did not appreciate those who could see through their plots and perceive the venal natures doubly hidden beneath scarlet veils and beautiful faces.
Tenel Ka had few illusions about her family. Chelik was not the worst of Ta’a Chume’s possible successors. Alyssia, younger sister to Chelik, was even more devious. Alyssia was too canny to make an open attack on Prince Isolder. More likely, she had slyly manipulated Chelik’s daughter into acting on her mother’s behalf. The girl would be executed for this crime, and the loss of an heir weakened Chelik’s bid for the throne.
Such was the royal family, its court, even Hapan culture. Tenel Ka could not conceive of a life defined by these values. Would she, like Jaina, reshape herself to the expectations of her foes?
“Will you at least consider the possibility?” Isolder pressed.
Tenel Ka ran her hand over her red-gold hair, plaited as always into the braids of a Dathomiri fighter. “I’m not a ruler, but a warrior.”
“Who better to lead in time of war? Surely your grandmother has also urged you along this path
.”
“I haven’t seen much of her,” she said. It hadn’t escaped her notice that since their arrival, Ta’a Chume had taken more interest in Jaina than in her own royal heir. There was no jealousy in this observation, but a great deal of concern. Jaina was no fool, but she couldn’t possibly know the truth of the old woman.
A terrible thought occurred to her. Perhaps the real threat to the Hapan throne came not from the branches of the family tree, but from the root. Ni’Korish, the queen mother before Ta’a Chume, was remembered for her virulent hatred of the Jedi. But perhaps Ta’a Chume understood the potential of a dark Jedi ally, and sought to coax Jaina down this path for her own purposes. With Darth Vader’s granddaughter beside her, Ta’a Chume could easily scythe through the various plots and reclaim her throne. A woman who could order the death of her eldest son’s betrothed, and perhaps even the man himself, was capable of anything.
“You look worried,” the prince observed. “Is all well with Ta’a Chume?”
“She is as she ever was.”
“I see,” Isolder said slowly. “Then I would say that there is ample cause for worry.”
Tenel Ka gave a grim nod. For the first time, father and daughter were in complete accord.
* * *
The banquet hall in the royal palace glittered with candlelight, a charming anachronism that the Hapan diplomats seemed to take in stride. There was much about this world that reminded Jaina of her mother’s stories of Alderaan—the tradition, the formality, the emphasis on beauty and art and culture, the sense of being transported into a vital and vibrant re-creation of past times.
Musicians played softly in alcoves upon instruments Jaina had only seen in books. Fresh flowers filled the room with a heady scent, and servants moved with quiet efficiency to remove plates and refill glasses.
The use of human servants disconcerted Jaina, but there was not a droid to be found anywhere in the palace. Nor did the food have the flat, homogeneous flavor that came from a synth unit. Since this was a diplomatic dinner and Jag Fel was the son of an Imperial baron, he had been invited. He sat across from Jaina, resplendent in a formal black uniform. All things considered, she might have enjoyed the experience … had she been in a better state of mind, not to mention a more comfortable gown.
Dark Journey Page 15
