Dark Journey (30 page)

“Fact,” the Jedi agreed. “Still, it is something to consider.”

Jag tried to envision Jaina as a ruling monarch and swiftly abandoned the attempt. “Let’s assume that she agreed to this. How would she go about gaining the throne?”

“Since no daughters were born to Ta’a Chume, Prince Isolder is the legal heir to the throne. His wife rules.”

After a moment, it occurred to Jag that he was gaping like a Mon Calamari. He shut his mouth so abruptly that his teeth clicked. “Prince Isolder would agree to this?”

“He may not have a choice,” Tenel Ka said grimly. “If she decides that this is a good path to power, she will find a way to take it.”

“Ta’a Chume has that much power?”

The Jedi regarded him somberly. “I was not speaking of my grandmother.”

   Jaina faced down the stubborn Wookiee. “I don’t see what else we can do.”

Lowbacca glanced at the ready ship and grumbled an argument.

“Hapes doesn’t have the sort of people we need. This is experimental technology, and it’s vital that we get it right. There are no better techs anywhere than on Kashyyyk,” she said, naming the Wookiee homeworld.

Lowbacca harrumphed and folded his arms. Jaina’s patience began to fray. “All right, let me put it this way. Your family owes my father a life debt. He doesn’t seem willing to claim it himself, so I’m doing so in his name.”

Lowbacca growled in puzzlement. The choice Jaina put before him was an awkward one, and she knew it. Her friend was caught between honoring a life debt and bringing some of his people into the path of a Yuuzhan Vong attack. Knowing the warrior culture of the Wookiee, Jaina was confident about the outcome.

With another heartfelt groan, Lowbacca hoisted himself into the waiting Hapan ship, and set off to bring some of his clan’s best technicians into grave danger.

   Kyp’s X-wing drifted quietly in space, controls darkened and only enough power flowing to supply the lifesupport systems. Even Zero-One, his astromech droid and would-be conscience, remained switched off.

He watched as two small Hapan ships darted past, headed toward the coordinates of a short hyperspace jump. Kyp waited until they had disappeared, then powered up and urged his ship to follow.

His X-wing emerged into a vicious firestorm. Several Yuuzhan Vong coralskippers surrounded the Hapan
ships. Plasma bolts tore at the blackness like bloody claws.

“Two ships,” Kyp muttered. “Only two, against this!”

He jinked hard to port to avoid an incoming bolt, then wheeled around in a tight circle and closed in on one of the skips. Two of the enemy ships veered off into wild, erratic flight.

“Looks like there’s a little too much confusion on that implant, Jaina,” Kyp said as he switched on the comm to Zero-One. “Lock down target.”

ACKNOWLEDGED.

Bright blue icons leapt onto his control screen and narrowed down into tight focus. A warning sensor hummed, and the single light flashed for a one–two–three countdown. Kyp hit the button at two.

A proton torpedo dropped into the sky and hurtled toward one of the confused skips. Blue light flared past a stream of plasma, turning the golden bolt into an eerie green. Kyp threw his ship into a side roll, spinning it away from the enemy barrage.

His weapon struck dead center, and the coralskipper exploded into shards of dark coral. Kyp veered away from the blooming cluster of shrapnel and chose his next target. In moments another bright explosion blossomed against the sky.

His comm unit crackled. “Vanguard Three, is that you?”

Kyp recognized the voice of one of Jag Fel’s best Hapan recruits. “Seth! What in the blue blazes are you doing out here?”

“You don’t know?”

At that moment, Kyp
did
know. These weren’t scouts, sent up in pairs by Colonel Fel. These two men were sacrifices.

“Fall back. I’ll cover you.”

“Cover us, but try not to blow up every skip. I sure don’t want to do this again.”

A quick, syncopated cluster of plasma bolts erupted from two of the skips, converging on the Hapan fighter. The small vessel disappeared in a burst of white fire.

Kyp muttered an oath and swung away to protect the final ship. Despite Seth’s request, he took out three more of the Yuuzhan Vong skips before following the battered Hapan fighter back to its base.

In the docking bay, Kyp swung out of the X-wing and sent a furious mental summons for his “apprentice.”

“You don’t have to shout,” a calm female voice announced.

Jaina strode into the docking bay. Bypassing Kyp, she went up to the surviving pilot. “Did you get any?”

The man glanced at Kyp. “One. Maybe.”

She nodded and turned away. Kyp seized her arm, and the two Jedi locked angry stares. “They’re gathering data,” she said at last. “Important data.”

“How many pilots have you sent up? How many returned?”

“Most likely a higher percentage than those from your command,” she shot back.

“People die in war. I accept that, and so do the pilots who fly with me. But I never deliberately threw their lives away. How good is your tracking data?”

“Getting better.”

“So you had a good idea of how many skips were patrolling that sector. And you sent up two men.”

“We don’t have enough of the implants yet, or the delivery weapons, to justify sending up more,” Jaina argued. “You would have made the same decision.”

“Which brings us to the next issue. These pilots apparently think I ordered this mission.”

Jaina merely shrugged. “You used my name and influence when it suited you. I’m here to learn from the master.”

A tall, slender woman moved toward them, and a nod from her brought guards hurrying to disperse the small crowd of pilots and mechanics that had gathered on the perimeter.

“Difficult times call for hard decisions, young man,” Ta’a Chume said sternly. “Selecting a leader is a difficult thing, and should never be done lightly. Once done, however, a constant second-guessing of a leader is worse than having none at all.”

Kyp blinked and then turned to Jaina. “Who is this?”

“The former queen of Hapes,” she said curtly. “Ta’a Chume, this is Kyp Durron, Jedi Master. He’s training me.”

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 offworld 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.”

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 former 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 homeworld 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.”