Dark Journey (11 page)

“I don’t see why he allowed Teneniel Djo to open Hapes to refugees.”

The woman’s eyes flamed above her veil. “He has no right to gainsay her, and no power to do so. She is the queen mother.”

“And as such, she should be honored … for as long as she can manage to hold the throne,” Trisdin said, understanding his role. Ta’a Chume hated her daughter-in-law, but she was protective of the title and its power. She might wish to see the younger woman dead—she might even arrange it—but she would hear no slight upon the royal office.

Trisdin unfolded his long limbs and strolled over to Ta’a Chume. He stood behind her and began to massage her shoulders with practiced skill. “So many burdens,” he crooned. “The Yuuzhan Vong, the debacle at Fondor, the issue of succession.” Ta’a Chume went tense beneath his hands. “That has not yet been resolved?”

“No,” she said shortly.

His arms came around her. “It’s a pity your royal consort was only capable of fathering sons. What a queen any daughter of yours might make! Indeed, you are still young …”

Her mocking laughter cut him short. “Ambitious, aren’t you? I’ve no desire to take another royal consort, and while you may flatter me all you wish, please keep your praise within the bounds of possibility!”

Trisdin shrugged this off. “It’s a shame that Isolder’s daughter favors her mother’s culture.”

“Culture!” Ta’a Chume echoed derisively. “You do the Dathomiri witch too much honor. Still, Tenel Ka is capable enough.”

“But she has no sense of duty! She refuses to serve Hapes, as you have done—and continue to do.”

Ta’a Chume resumed her pacing. “The issue of royal succession has become a point of contention between my son and his wife. Isolder grows ever more traditional, and he wants his daughter to reign, as is right and proper. Teneniel Djo insists that Tenel Ka remain free to choose her own path.”

“At least Teneniel Djo was willing to bear another child.”

“Willing? She insisted upon another child! And that has created another problem. My son is proud, and he knows full well the attitude of Dathomir’s Witches toward males. Teneniel Djo and her ilk treat men as little more than slaves and breeding stock!”

It occurred to Trisdin to wonder how this differed substantially from the Hapan matriarchal view, but he quickly squelched an impulse he knew to be suicidal.

“No doubt Isolder’s frustration led him to commit the Consortium to battle. I would not be surprised if the resulting failure left him more sensitive to perceived slights and insults than he otherwise would be. Perhaps the trouble between the prince and his queen will pass as his wounded pride heals.”

“Unlikely,” the former queen said darkly. “Isolder respects women of strength. What can he appreciate in a barbarian like Teneniel Djo? How can he willingly accept a subordinate role to someone so obviously unworthy?”

“Then the solution is to find him a worthy queen.”

These words were treason, punishable by swift and certain death, but Ta’a Chume merely nodded.

“Therein lies the problem,” she mused. “War is coming. There is no avoiding it now. We need a woman with ruthless intelligence, someone experienced in leadership.”

“You alone fit that description.”

She shook her head. “Once a queen mother has abdicated in favor of a successor, it is exceedingly difficult to take back power. The people need a warrior queen, and Teneniel Djo, for all her faults, fills that image.”

“So does Princess Leia,” he observed, suspecting where her thoughts might be headed.

“Leia has the breeding, the training, and the experience,” Ta’a Chume agreed, “but she is more diplomat than warrior. And quite frankly, a new set of marital
problems would inevitably arise. My son would swiftly come to resent her. She is simply too much woman for him.”

And perhaps
, Trisdin thought,
too much for Ta’a Chume as well!
The former queen’s resentment of Teneniel Djo came in large part from the younger woman’s refusal to be advised, much less controlled.

“You obviously would not wish to see a weak woman on the throne of Hapes,” Trisdin observed. “But Isolder might be more content with a very young woman. No matter how competent she otherwise might be, he is more likely to feel himself in control of the situation. Naturally, a young queen would require advice from a wise and experienced mentor, and a woman of sense would not look to her husband for council.”

Ta’a Chume stared at him for several moments. Her eyes crinkled, giving evidence to the smile spreading beneath her veil.

“I was not granted a daughter of my blood, but you’re saying that perhaps I might yet train a successor, and mold a promising young woman into my own image.”

“And keep Isolder happy and out of the way while you’re doing it.”

Laughter bubbled up from behind the crimson veil. “Trisdin, you are priceless! Now go and prepare yourself for the evening festivities.”

He sauntered off, well pleased with himself. Ta’a Chume’s smile held until the door shut behind her current favorite. Then she walked to the settee and sank down with a deep and troubled sigh.

There were more storms brewing across Hapes than Trisdin knew or could begin to imagine. Though not technically in power, Ta’a Chume had her resources, and forces loyal to her. One of these factions, a large and powerful group started by her mother before her, was anti-Jedi at heart and becoming more virulently so by the
day. Matters were coming to the point that she had to reward them or risk losing their support. She could not risk such a loss—they were too powerful for her to allow them to take their strength elsewhere. This faction must either be placated or destroyed.

And although murderous attempts on the royal family were certainly nothing new, Ta’a Chume was growing burdened by the level of paranoia required to keep herself and her household alive.

Teneniel Djo was doing nothing to help. This troublesome Force had carried shockwaves from the Fondor debacle, causing Teneniel to lose her long-awaited, unborn second child. This was not yet known outside the palace; Ta’a Chume had kept it quiet under the guise of giving her daughter-in-law time to heal and grieve before making the announcement.

In truth, Ta’a Chume viewed such grief as a self-indulgent weakness, a luxury that Hapes could not afford. She had endured Teneniel Djo this long simply because the alternative—a coup by one of her nieces—was even less desirable. Alyssia was a venal little wretch, but she was also a practical woman. Her first act as queen mother would be to destroy Ta’a Chume and her descendants. Of this, Ta’a Chume was certain, for that was exactly the course she herself would take.

But Trisdin’s suggestion offered new possibilities. With a curt nod, Ta’a Chume sealed the fate of her son, his wife, and all of Hapes.

Now all that remained was to find a promising young woman of whom Isolder might approve, and the lamentable Teneniel Djo would go.

Jaina came awake suddenly, though no sound disturbed her trancelike state. She sat up, senses alert for whatever had roused her.

But the ship was quiet, eerily so. For someone accustomed to the hum and roar of engines, the silence of the Yuuzhan Vong frigate was disconcerting. Jaina wasn’t sure exactly why she’d expected anything different; after all, what sound did gravity make when it bent? Would a black hole make a giant slurping noise whenever a dovin basal sucked up a proton torpedo?

She rubbed the nape of her neck with one hand and then stretched, drawing in a long breath. And realized why she’d awoken.

A faint, sharp odor filled the air, a scent she couldn’t equate with any other she knew. Jaina pushed herself off the coral bench and hurried to the cockpit.

Starlines spun into view as the ship came out of its hyperspace flight. The odd scent must have been some sort of sensor.

The stars focused into sharp points, but faint lines remained—starlight refracted from some metallic, as-yet-unseen object.

In the pilot’s seat, Zekk sat bolt upright, leaning toward the viewport. “Incoming!” he snapped.

Jaina spun toward the pilot’s seat and leaned down to peer over Zekk’s shoulder. A motley collection of ships—
some of them Hapan vessels, some more suited to pirates and smugglers—sped purposefully toward them.

Ganner slipped into the gunner’s chair, his handsome face grim at the prospect of firing upon allies.

Zekk touched his hooded head to Jaina’s. “You want to take this?”

“I’m going back to the escape pod. Unless Tenel Ka gets to Hapes, this could be the first party of many. Ganner, no matter what, you’ve got to protect her. That comes first.”

“I know my job,” he said.

Jaina gave his shoulder a brief squeeze to show that she understood his dilemma, then she hurried to the stern of the frigate. Tenel Ka was lowering herself into the black, seed-shaped escape pod, listening intently to Tahiri’s swift-flowing advice. Tesar, Alema, and Tekli stood by.

The blond girl glanced up at Jaina’s approach. She straightened and backed away.

“You’re the closest thing we’ve got to an expert,” Jaina reminded her. “This is no time to defer. Report?”

Tahiri grimaced and shrugged. “She’s as ready as she’ll ever be. I’d rather go myself, but it’s her world.”

“Tenel Ka?”

The warrior confirmed readiness with a somber nod.

“No lights,” Jaina reminded, nodding toward the fluorescent, lichenlike life-forms gathered in small colonies inside the escape pod. “Head for the outskirts of the royal city. It’s been two standard hours since sunset, so you’ve got at least a shot at secrecy. Get down as fast as you can, as close to the city as you can without drawing attention. We’ll keep them busy and give you as much time as possible.”

Tenel Ka looked to Tahiri. The young Jedi helped the one-armed woman pull the cognition hood over her
head. Tahiri stepped back. The pod’s opening irised shut, and the small vessel rose slightly from the floor.

The Jedi backed away. A door closed between them and the pod, and an exterior portal opened. The escape pod sped silently out into the dark vacuum.

Jaina headed for the cockpit, but came up short when Tahiri stepped into her path. The blond girl looked fragile but resolute.

“What can I do?”

“Go find Lowbacca,” Jaina suggested. “He’s still working on the tracking system. You know the Yuuzhan Vong language better than any of us. Maybe the ship will be more talkative if it’s got a good listener.”

Color drained from the young Jedi’s face, but without hesitation she took off in search of the Wookiee.

Jaina understood Tahiri’s fear, and respected the girl’s refusal to pamper it. Anakin had told her a few things about Tahiri’s rescue from Yavin 4. They’d stolen a ship, and the cognition hood had attempted to bypass Tahiri’s true identity to pierce the “memories” the shapers had implanted.

Interesting, she mused.

The frigate shuddered and pitched as Hapan missiles bombarded it. Jaina staggered through the corridor, bouncing from one wall to the other as the ship rolled and jinked.

She struggled to the cockpit and ripped the pilot’s hood from Zekk’s head. “You said I was doing just fine,” he said, showing a flash of wry humor.

“Obviously, I lied,” she replied in kind as she tugged the controls over her own head.

He quickly yielded the seat, but continued to gaze anxiously at the viewport as Jaina settled in.

The ship’s sensors flooded her with information, none of it good.

“Hyperdrive’s out,” she announced as she spun the ship
in an evasive maneuver. “Dovin basal is about played out. Looks like we get to choose between shielding and running.”

“Run,” Alema suggested.

Jaina did her best, dodging through an ever-shifting minefield of strobing lasers and proton torpedoes. Doggedly she led their attackers away from Hapes, away from Tenel Ka.

Alema let out a sigh of relief. “You’re losing them! Good work.”

Jaina surveyed the skies behind, using the sweeping peripheral vision granted by the hood. The distance between the Yuuzhan Vong ship and its attackers was steadily growing. But they kept firing, though they were well out of range. Jaina noticed the subtle shift in their vector, and traced their new path to a small black dot—a ship so small that it would be imperceptible had it not been backlit by killing lights.

“Hutt slime! They found Tenel Ka,” Jaina said. She threw the ship into a tight turn and hurtled back into the fight.

“Looks like she’s picked up a swarm of Hornet Interceptors,” Ganner said. “Get me in closer. I can kill them from here, but not disable them.”

A concussion missile sped toward the ship. Ganner sent a burst of plasma out to intercept it, and Jaina jinked sharply to avoid the resulting explosion.

“The Hapan pilots don’t seem to share your concern,” she shot back.

The older Jedi sent her an incredulous glance. “So what are you saying?”

Jaina hurtled past a pair of Hapan ships, which also changed course and continued pursuit. “If you want to talk, fine, but yield the chair to someone who wants to shoot!”

“Just line them up and hold steady,” he said.

She brought the frigate around in a rising loop, then dived down between the two pursuing ships. A flurry of laserfire kept the dovin basal busy, but Jaina held a steady course to allow Ganner a clean shot.

Twice he fired, clipping the pursuing ships with plasma bolts. One of the Hornets exploded into shards of metal; another managed to evade the shot. But the flying debris ripped through the thin metal of the third ship’s wings, sending it into an out-of-control spiral.

A surge of dismay came from Ganner, and his next shot went deliberately wide.

“We’re under attack,” Jaina reminded him.

“I might have hit that ship!”

“Sure, if it was the size of a battle cruiser! If you’re not going to hit them, at least give them an argument.”

The older Jedi turned away, his jaw clenched and his thoughts carefully shielded.

Meanwhile the Hapan ships continued to batter the Yuuzhan Vong vessel. Tesar did his best with the shields, but the shots were too many and too close. Again and again the ship shook as laserfire chipped at its hull. Worse, Jaina sensed that the overburdened dovin basal was nearing the limit of its strength. The escape pod soared off into the darkness, and none of the Hapan ships followed.