Dark Journey (29 page)

His apprentice had adopted his argument that the end result was more important than the path that led to it. She had pushed this philosophy to its far edges, forcing Kyp to consider whether there might, after all, be boundaries.

Kyp supposed there was a certain cosmic justice to this.

“So what next?” he muttered. Kyp wanted to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong. So did Jaina. Any energy he put into curtailing her efforts diminished the energy both of them could direct against the invaders. But how far could he let her go?

And more important, if and when the time came to stop her, would he be able to?

   Jaina smoothed the skirt of her gown and settled down in the chair Ta’a Chume offered. The tight Hapan garments still pinched, but she was growing accustomed to them. “I heard about Trisdin.”

“And you’ve come to offer condolences?” the former queen said archly as she reached for her wine goblet.

“Actually, I came to get an eyeful of his successor,” Jaina responded in kind.

Ta’a Chume sputtered on the sip she’d just taken, and set the goblet aside. “You were right about him. His loyalties were uncertain. A rumor reached him that the imprisoned pirates could serve his interests, and those of the woman he wanted to see on my throne.”

Jaina quickly got a lock on the queen’s target. “So you didn’t send him there to free them.”

“Not directly, no.”

“And if he hadn’t been killed by the prisoners, he would have been caught and tried for treason.”

“According to Hapan law.” Ta’a Chume lifted an inquiring brow. “You don’t approve?”

“Actually, I do. No matter what happened, it doesn’t reflect back on you. I assume his ties to this aspiring queen can be traced.”

“Naturally. Her name, by the way, is Alyssia. This latest scandal might be enough to neutralize her. If not, I may require your assistance.”

Jaina nodded, accepting this. She set down the goblet
of gold wine she’d been sipping. “Tell me about Sinsor Khal.”

“He was once a respected Hapan scientist with precisely the expertise you required. Unfortunately, this expertise was achieved at the cost of horrendous—and highly illegal—experimentation. But I suspect you’ve already come to this conclusion.”

Jaina nodded. “Are there others like him?”

The woman regarded her for a long moment. “How many do you need?” She sniffed at Jaina’s incredulous laugh. “Progress of any sort is not easily won. There are bound to be failures along the way, and if society deems these mistakes criminal today, tomorrow it will embrace the achievements that spring from their work. Men and women with intellectual curiosity should be funded and encouraged, away from the judgmental eyes of those who possess more righteousness than foresight.”

“So you shut them up, hid them away,” Jaina clarified.

Ta’a Chume waved this aside. “Most of them hardly notice. A well-funded lab and the freedom to work is a dream to these scientists, not a punishment. The Yuuzhan Vong are a reality, my dear, and they must be dealt with. What do you propose?”

Jaina quickly described the next phase of her plan. The former queen listened carefully and made several suggestions.

“This is excellent,” she said when at last Jaina had finished. “Your brothers will be avenged, and the defense of Hapes greatly strengthened. I’ll see that you have everything you need.” She extended a slender, jeweled hand.

Jaina took the offered hand without hesitation, but not without a certain doubt. For days now, she had been living in the palace, accepting the older woman’s advice and hospitality. Today, however, a new line had been
crossed. Kyp Durron might consider her his apprentice, but in truth, Jaina wondered if her real education was taking place at the hands of Hapes’s former queen.

She rose abruptly. “I’d better get to it.”

“Of course,” Ta’a Chume agreed.

Jaina spun and walked out of the queen’s residence, inexplicably eager to put some distance between her and Ta’a Chume. She rounded a corner quickly, and had to pull up short to keep from plowing into Tenel Ka.

The Dathomiri warrior’s one hand flashed out to catch and steady Jaina. “I often leave my grandmother’s presence at such a pace.”

Jaina smiled before she realized that Tenel Ka seldom resorted to humor.

“You have visited Ta’a Chume frequently,” the Jedi observed.

“She invited me to stay at the palace,” Jaina said, and shrugged. “I can’t exactly ignore her.”

“Fact. But the time you spend with her exceeds the demands of propriety.”

“I haven’t been keeping a log. Is this a problem for you?”

Tenel Ka ignored the truculent challenge. “You are a Jedi. You should be able to sense that nothing good can come from my grandmother’s hand.”

“She’s concerned about Hapes,” Jaina retorted. “Someone should be.”

“I don’t know anyone who is not. If the battle comes to Hapes, we will fight.”

“And lose! The Yuuzhan Vong can’t be fought with traditional Jedi methods. Their warriors and their living weapons are beyond the Force. To deal with them, we have to understand them. We have to beat them at their own game.”

Tenel Ka’s face furrowed into a concerned frown.
“Be careful, my friend. There is danger in making too diligent an attempt to understand the enemy. It’s impossible to study something for long without being changed by it.”

Jaina sniffed. “If I start feeling the urge to tattoo my face, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“This is not what I mean,” she said quickly. “My concern is for things of far more—”

“That was a joke,” Jaina broke in impatiently. “And as for changes, my feeling is that by the time this war is over, none of us will be the same, even the Jedi. Maybe especially the Jedi.”

Tenel Ka was silent for a long moment. Her direct gray-eyed gaze softened, as if misted over by future possibilities. When she regained her focus, she looked troubled.

“You might be right,” she agreed softly.

   The priestship glided through the sky like a malevolent gem, its many polished sides gleaming in the reflected starlight. In the control room deep in the heart of the ship, the priest Harrar stood by the yammosk pool, his fierce gaze shifting from the many-tentacled creature to the tattooed warrior at his side.

“You have not been able to reestablish contact?” he demanded of Khalee Lah.

The warrior inclined his scarred head. “No, Eminence,” he admitted. “The shaper continues to study the problem.”

Harrar began to pace. “The warmaster depends upon the Jedi sacrifice.
Demands
it!”

“Several of the Peace Brigade collaborators have reported. They have recovered two of the humans taken by the
Jeedai
we seek.”

Harrar’s scarred brows met in a sudden scowl.
“What motive might she have in sending them back?” he mused.

“They claim to have escaped.”

“And the priestess Elan claimed to be a defector. This
Jeedai
was able to block the yammosk—a most unexpected development. What more might she have done?”

The warrior snorted derisively. “Forgive my presumption, Eminence, but it seems to me you give this infidel far too much credit.”

The clatter of boots announced the humans’ approach. Khalee dismissed the escort with an absent wave and rounded on the pirates.

“Tell us,” he demanded.

The pirates gave a meandering and self-serving version of a story Harrar had already heard. He cut them off when he could bear no more. “So after your warriors were bested by a one-armed female, you surrendered your ship and submitted to captivity.”

“But we escaped, and we returned,” one of the men dared to say. “That’s got to mean something.”

“I’m sure it does,” Harrar agreed. “What, precisely, remains to be seen.”

He nodded to Khalee Lah. The warrior spun forward, his hands moving in a blur. Several quick, precise jabs sent the men staggering back, clutching at their throats and gasping like beached fish. Harrar took a small coral shard from his sleeve and cut the slaves’ implants free. He examined them carefully.

“They seem unchanged. Release these men.”

Khalee Lah drove one of his fists into each man’s stomach. They fell to their knees, dragging in ragged gulps of air.

“Sacrifice them,” Harrar instructed, “and then set course for the Hapes Cluster.”

The warrior bowed deeply. “Your Eminence, we lack the forces for an effective attack on a planet of that size.”

“We need not attack the planet,” the priest said grimly. “Just the
Jeedai
. And unless I am very mistaken, she will come to us.”

Jag Fel made his way to the
Trickster
’s docking bay on the first day after Jaina’s return. She glanced up from her work and scowled.

“Yes, I took one of your pilots. But Kyp is back and in reasonable working order. If you have any complaints, take them up with
him
.” She jerked a thumb in Lowbacca’s direction. The Wookiee obligingly rose, folded his massive arms, and fixed Jag with a challenging stare.

The pilot’s gaze flicked over the Wookiee and then returned to Jaina. “I came with a message from your mother.”

He quickly told the story of the attack on Han, and Leia’s decision to leave Hapes.

“Where did they go?”

“She said they would rejoin Luke Skywalker, and that you would know the location.”

“Makes sense,” Jaina said absently. “How badly was my father hurt?”

He described the injuries and repeated the medical droid’s assurances.

“My mother must have been surprised,” Jaina murmured. “She always said Dad’s skull was thicker than a Star Destroyer’s hull.”

Jag’s lips twitched. “She intimated something along that line.”

Jaina shook her head and blew out a long sigh. “Knowing my father, this might have started with some sort of misunderstanding. I’ll talk to Ta’a Chume about it.”

“Perhaps you should reconsider that,” Jag said carefully.

Jaina’s ire returned. She propped her fists on her hips. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“I don’t trust the former queen mother. Frankly, I’m rather surprised that you do.”

A sharp clatter drew their eyes to the walkway overhead. Tenel Ka stood there, her face inscrutable. After a tense and silent moment, she turned and strode out without a word.

Jag scowled. “That was unforgivably tactless of me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. People who eavesdrop deserve whatever they hear,” Jaina observed.

“Perhaps, but I should speak to her.”

He nodded to Jaina and hurried after the Hapan princess. “Your Highness, a word,” he called after her.

She stopped and turned toward him. “My name is Tenel Ka,” she reminded him.

“Of course. I wanted to apologize for the insult to your family. It was not my intention to gossip or offend.”

The Jedi stared at him for a moment, and then turned away. “Walk with me,” she called back. Jag matched his pace to her stride. “You followed me from the docking bay, which is precisely what I hoped you would do. I observed you and Jaina together at the diplomatic dinner. It seems likely that she would assign more value to your opinion than to mine.”

His smile held considerable irony. “I haven’t noticed that. Perhaps Jaina Solo’s regard is one of those mysteries that only Jedi can perceive.”

“Of late Jaina has been … difficult,” Tenel Ka admitted. She related her recent argument with Jaina, and her concerns about Ta’a Chume’s influence on her.

In lean words, she told Jag the stories that continued to circulate about Ta’a Chume: she was probably behind the death of her first son’s betrothed, and possibly behind the subsequent death of her son.

“My grandmother might be an old woman,” she concluded, “but do not take Ta’a Chume lightly. There is always more than what you see. What concerns me is that there is probably much more to her current plans than even Jaina realizes.”

“I see,” he said slowly. “The attack on Han Solo puzzled me. Though I know Prince Isolder once courted Leia, I don’t see why Ta’a Chume would go to such extremes on her son’s behalf.”

Tenel Ka stood for a moment as if in indecision. Then she bobbed her head in a curt nod and motioned for Jag to continue to follow her.

They took a landspeeder to the palace and then made their way to the opulent chambers of the queen mother. “This is my mother’s favorite room,” Tenel Ka said, and pushed open a massive door.

For a moment Jag assumed the room was empty. There was no sound, no sense of any living presence.

“There,” the Jedi said softly, indicating a chair nearly hidden in a curtained alcove. A small, still figure slumped there, eyes staring straight ahead.

Tenel Ka led the way into the room and stooped over the chair. “We have a visitor, Mother,” she said softly.

The woman’s brown eyes flicked up to Jag and then returned to the window. She took no further notice of them, though Tenel Ka spoke about the plight of the refugees, the Consortium’s worries about a Yuuzhan Vong attack, and the attempts to rebuild the fleet. None of these concerns pierced the deep torpor surrounding Hapes’s reigning queen.

At last Tenel Ka fell silent. She leaned forward and touched her forehead to her mother’s, as if doing so
could lend the older woman some of her determination, her clarity of thought. She quickly kissed her mother’s cheek and rose, striding out without glancing back at Jag.

He followed her to the door. When it closed behind them, she leaned against it and allowed her pain-filled eyes to drift closed.

“This,” she said grimly, “is the woman who will command the defense of Hapes. Do you understand why my grandmother wishes to replace her?”

“Princess Leia will never accept such a role.”

Tenel Ka’s eyes flew open. “Is that what you think is happening?”

“What other interpretation is there?”

“I know my grandmother. She will never fully relinquish the throne. Perhaps she envisions ruling a second time, through someone younger and more tractable than either my mother or Princess Leia.”

Her meaning slowly came to Jag. To Tenel Ka’s surprise and his own, he broke out laughing. “Up to a certain point, logic suggests you’re describing Jaina Solo. But only up to a point!
Tractable
is not a word that comes readily to mind when her name is mentioned.”