Dark Journey (22 page)

She turned to the window and pointed out past the branches of a tzimernut tree. “There, in the mists. Hidden shipyards prepare, rebuilding the fleet lost at Fondor.”

Tenel Ka stared at her mother, uncertain how to respond. The queen slid a large emerald ring from her finger and passed it to her daughter. “That is not a gem, but a holocube. The information is contained within. Safeguard it, and see that my successor receives it when the need arises.”

Tenel Ka hesitated, then slipped it onto her finger. “I seldom wear such things. Perhaps I should, so that this one is not so obvious.”

Teneniel Djo’s faded eyebrows rose, and she smiled approvingly. “A good thought.”

Her smile faded, and her energy seemed to dissipate with it. A film settled over her eyes and she suddenly looked smaller, older, and infinitely weary.

Tenel Ka kissed her mother’s cheek and let herself out of the room. One more disturbing interview awaited her.

She made her way to the royal family’s docking bay, a vast structure near the palace. The Yuuzhan Vong frigate had been moved into the city for fear of sabotage, and a number of guards encircled the parameters.

More guards than usual, Tenel Ka noted. Several among them wore the distinctive red uniform of the palace guard. They snapped to attention as she passed, giving her the salute reserved for the royal family.

“Up here,” an imperious voice announced.

Tenel Ka glanced up at the walkway that surrounded the huge room. Her grandmother and father stood together. Not quite together, she amended. The distance between them, and the set of her father’s shoulders, suggested yet another disagreement in process.

Apparently the morning promised not one unpleasant interview, but two. Tenel Ka sprinted up the stairs, resigned to having this done and over with so she could turn her attention to Jaina.

She nodded to her father and kissed the cheek that Ta’a Chume presented. “You have seen Jaina this morning?”

The former queen scowled and nodded to the alien ship.

Before she could speak, the howl of an irritated Wookiee rent the air. The guards below parted to allow Lowbacca to enter. Other than Tenel Ka, he was the only member of the Jedi strike force who had elected to remain on Hapes, and other than Jaina, the only civilian granted access to this secured site.

Tenel Ka watched Lowbacca with deep concern. The Wookiee’s friendship with Jaina, combined with the volatile temper and loyal nature of his species, painted his perceptions in broad and simplistic strokes. He seemed unaware of the changes occurring in his friend, and quite willing to go along with whatever Jaina had in mind.

The Wookiee lumbered toward the frigate with a large crate of rocks in his arms. He dropped it with a heavy thud and began to feed the rocks, one at a time, into an opening that appeared in the ship’s hull. Finally he bent over to pick up the empty crate. The ship spat out a pale gray stone, hitting Lowbacca squarely on the rump. The Wookiee jolted upright and spun toward the ship, shaking his fist and howling in outrage.

Jaina popped her head through the hatch. Her face was smudged, and her medium length brown hair looked as if it had been styled in a wind tunnel.

“Hey, it wasn’t me! Can I help it if this thing is a fussy eater?”

This remark coaxed a wistful sigh from Tenel Ka. It was so like Jaina as she had been two years ago.

“You seem troubled,” Isolder observed.

“Nostalgic, perhaps,” she admitted. “It is good to see Jaina tinkering with a ship, even one such as this.”

“I’m sorry you think so,” the former queen said tartly. “She has better things to do with her time. That young woman is a born leader. She should be pursuing her destiny, not acting the part of a mechanic!”

“Perhaps she is doing exactly that. An understanding of the enemy ships could make an enormous difference,” Isolder said. “She is taking an admirably singleminded approach to solving the puzzle it presents.”

Tenel Ka shook her head. “She’s not solving a puzzle. She’s creating one.”

A speculative gleam lit Ta’a Chume’s eyes. “An interesting notion. Can you expand on that?”

The Jedi shrugged. “At this point, it’s just a feeling. Jaina is extremely difficult to read through the Force.”

The older woman nodded approvingly. “The ability to hide thoughts and shield emotions is invaluable, as your mother’s illness illustrates so poignantly. But surely something else prompted your observation, some specific event.”

Tenel Ka sent a cool glance at her grandmother, acknowledging the comment about her mother but not rising to the bait. “Jaina and Lowbacca managed to block the frigate’s tracking mechanism. At the time, this aided our escape. I suspect she is seeking another way to exploit this.”

Isolder nodded. “Such knowledge could prove extremely valuable.”

“Fact. But because of who Jaina is—a Jedi, and Jacen Solo’s twin—she can’t afford impulsive actions and shouldn’t take unnecessary risks. She’s plotting something, and I cannot follow the path her mind is taking.”

“Perhaps I should speak to her parents,” the prince mused.

“And what makes you think they’ll have more influence on their daughter than you do on your own?” Ta’a Chume snapped, sending a fulminating look at Tenel Ka. “If you must meddle, speak with Jaina directly. Perhaps she will be wise enough to take advice.”

The prince’s lips thinned at this criticism. Before he could respond, a light step on the walkway stairs drew their attention.

Jag Fel climbed the stairs. He stopped when he noticed the Hapan royals and dipped into a low bow. “Your pardon. I came seeking Tenel Ka. The captain of the guard sent me here.”

Ta’a Chume’s gaze took in his black flight suit, the helmet under his arm. She looked to her granddaughter. “I suppose you’ve made arrangements to fly off somewhere. You seldom see fit to grace Hapes with your presence for more than a few days.”

“I was hoping, Your Majesty, that Tenel Ka might be able to help me find Jaina. I’m recruiting pilots to help scout this sector.”

Ta’a Chume pointed to the frigate. Braying yelps of Wookiee laughter wafted from the open vessel, followed by a female voice raised in a string of imaginative curses.

“It’s well that you’ve had combat experience,” she said in a dry tone. She raised one hand in a peremptory hail to catch the nearest guard’s attention, then pointed first to Jag and then to the Yuuzhan Vong ship. He snapped a salute, his fist touching his temple.

“Good luck,” she told Jag. She made a little gesture of dismissal, and the young pilot bowed again and left promptly, as was proper. But he clattered down the stairs to the docking bay with an alacrity that had little to do with protocol.

The former queen watched his quick departure with a speculative little smile. “He hasn’t a chance of recruiting Jaina for this or anything else,” she pronounced. “Mark
me, any interest there will be fleeting at best. Jaina won’t waste much time on a mere pilot.”

“Her mother didn’t think as you do,” Isolder pointed out.

Ta’a Chume turned a patronizing smile on her son. “Jaina is not her mother, though I’m not surprised you can’t tell one pretty face from another.”

He blinked in astonishment as the old woman’s meaning came clear. “I have never considered her in that light!”

“Just as well,” the queen said tartly. “While I would not shed tears if you decided to seek a new queen, I would prefer that you look elsewhere. Jaina Solo’s breeding, training, and temperament would serve her well, but she is a young woman and would require much guidance. Unless you plan to rule Hapes yourself, you would do well to seek a more seasoned consort.”

Isolder turned his gaze away. “No man can rule Hapes,” he said in a flat tone.

“My point precisely! The problem is that someone must.” She arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps it is time for me to resume the throne.”

“Never,” the prince said. “That, I will not allow.”

“That, you cannot control!” she retorted. “If your daughter will not rule, your wife must. If Teneniel Djo cannot, then find a wife who can. Because if you do not, then a member of my family will fill the void and will no doubt kill the three of us in the process! Choose, and then act, or the choice will be taken from you!”

She spun and stormed off. Isolder watched her for a moment, then turned and stalked off in the opposite direction.

Left alone, an enlightened Tenel Ka stared down at the alien ship and the determined young woman who had become the fulcrum of yet another plot.

She realized now why Ta’a Chume had not been nudging her toward the throne of Hapes. She had found
another young woman who suited her purposes even better.

   The guards parted to allow Jag access to the ship. He walked up to the ramp, a simple incline similar in design to that of most frigate-class ships. But there all similarity ended. The alien vessel looked more like an asteroid than like any ship he’d ever seen. He placed a tentative hand on the hull. The surface was as rough and irregular as the coral reefs in the oceans on Rhigar 3, the near-tropical blue moon that circled the Syndic Mitth’raw’nuruodo training academy.

Jag couldn’t imagine how the Yuuzhan Vong had coaxed a colony of tiny creatures into forming a space-going vessel. It was said that these ships were alive, almost sentient. He cautiously tapped on the hull.

The response was immediate and vehement. Jaina Solo burst into view, her pretty face dark with frustration. She stopped short when she saw him, and stood framed in the open portal, her hands braced against the sides.

For a moment all Jag could do was stare. She was liberally daubed with pale green gel, and several wisps of hair stood up in shining spikes.

“I’ve come at a bad time,” he said at last.

“That depends,” she retorted. “If you’re interested in having a shower, you’re in luck. There’s one on this ship and I just figured out how to start it.”

“Ah,” he observed.

Her brown eyes raked over him. “On second thought, the last thing you need is more spit and polish. And when I say ‘spit,’ you have no idea how literally I’m speaking.”

A long-buried emotion stirred, one so unfamiliar that it took him a moment to find a name for it. Chiss, as a rule, did not get angry, and Jag had learned to model his
reactions accordingly. “And what is it, precisely, that I do need?”

His cool tone had a paradoxical effect on the young woman. Jaina’s eyes flamed. “You tell me. You’re the one who’s barging in here and interrupting my work.”

“I came to offer you a ship, and a place in the Vanguard Squadron.”

“Thanks,” she said flatly, “but I’ve got a ship. It just needs a few adjustments.”

His eyes skimmed over her, taking in her disheveled appearance. Humor stirred, and his irritation receded. “And how is that going?” he inquired politely.

Her chin came up. “Great. No problems.”

Fierce brown eyes dared him to contradict her. To his surprise, Jag wished he could linger and do precisely that. The prospect of fighting with Jaina Solo was surprisingly intriguing. His squadron, however, would soon be expecting him.

“I should leave you to your work.”

“Fine. Good. You do that.”

She looked as eager for him to leave as Jag was to linger. That stung. He inclined his head in a curt farewell, left at a crisp pace, and didn’t look back.

Only one thing kept Jaina from scraping a handful of goo off herself and hurling it at the retreating pilot: her dignity had suffered enough for one day.

She shrugged and turned back to the ship. Lowbacca stood just inside the door, a broad grin on his ginger-furred face.

“I don’t see what’s so amusing,” she told him coldly.

He had the nerve to chuckle.

On impulse, she reached high and fisted both hands in the long fur on the Wookiee’s head. Dragging his head down to her level, she planted a kiss on his forehead and then plastered herself against him in a quick, hard hug.
She backed away, considerably cleaner than she’d been only a moment before.

Lowbacca looked at her with puzzlement. A large gob of gel dripped from his chin and landed on the duracrete floor with an audible
splat
. He looked down at his goo-matted fur and yelped in outrage.

“Now that,” Jaina told him, “is funny.”

   The planet known as Hapes had rotated twice since Harrar’s priestship emerged from darkspace. During that time, the priest’s commander and crew had worked without rest or pause to track the stolen ship.

When finally Khalee Lah came to the priest’s chambers, Harrar suspected, quite correctly, that he had come to admit defeat.

“We have lost scouting ships,” the warrior concluded, “and a number of the traitor-slaves.”

“It surprises me that the Hapan infidels can still mount much of a defense,” Harrar mused. “They were sacrificed at Fondor, yet they still fight and fight well. Our first duty is to retrieve Jaina Solo, but it appears that the Hapes Cluster might yet provide other worthy sacrifices.”

“It seems unlikely,” the warrior said in a dismissive tone. “The fighters are survivors from Coruscant. These might provide a few gifts for the gods, but not these Hapan cowards.”

“We received reports that several ships were destroyed by a species known as the Chiss, a reclusive people who live on the edges of this galaxy.”

“There are countless races in this galaxy,” Khalee Lah said. “These ships are too few to make the Chiss a serious threat.”

A surge of irritation coursed through the priest. Pride was a fine thing, but a wise leader was never blinded to the possibility of failure. Not for the first time, he wondered if perhaps Khalee Lah’s presence aboard Harrar’s
priestship had more to do with penance than honor. “Perhaps these few are scouts?” he suggested.

The warrior considered this. “It is possible.”

“If a few fight so well, what of a full-scale assault? It may be advantageous to learn more of these Chiss and why they’ve come.”

Khalee Lah frowned. “Our first task is retrieving the Jedi twin. The Warmaster depends upon our success.”

“And we will accomplish this task,” Harrar said with as much patience as he could muster. “The Warmaster also relies upon priests of Yun-Harla to gather information that will be useful to the Yuuzhan Vong. Alert your warriors to make every effort to capture one of these Chiss.”