Dark Journey (31 page)

“Results are not enough,” he countered. “Not for you.”

She sent him a look of pure disbelief. “I heard what you didn’t say,” she marveled. “You said, ‘Not for you.’ What you thought was,
Not for Darth Vader’s granddaughter
.”

“You’re my responsibility now,” Kyp persisted.

Jaina laughed. “I wish Uncle Luke could hear this!
Paralysis and inactivity, not the dark side, will overcome the Jedi
. Haven’t you said that a hundred times?”

He blew out a long sigh. “When is another pilot due to go out?”

“She’s powering up now,” Jaina admitted.

The older Jedi spun toward the door. Jaina pulled her lightsaber.

Kyp stopped dead at the click and hum unique to the traditional Jedi weapon. He slowly turned to face her, hands raised in a placating gesture. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Her violet blade rose toward his throat. “You’d change your mind if the stakes were high enough.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t kill me even if you could!”

“The idea isn’t without a certain appeal, but it’s not what I had in mind. If I win, you fly the rest of this battle under my command. If you win, I’m yours. No more holding out, no more games. I’ll keep the channels open, act like a real apprentice.”

He considered her for a long moment. “Done.”

His lightsaber leapt from his belt, flipped in midair, and slapped down into his hand. The glowing blade hissed toward her. Jaina vaulted above the flamboyant attack and flipped over Kyp’s head. He rolled aside to avoid a possible slashing counter and came up in a crouch.

Jaina backed down the stairs, her weapon at high guard. He advanced, then darted forward with a quick feinting lunge.

She anticipated his move and leaned away from it, then quickly changed directions and lunged for him, sweeping her arm up into a rising parry that threw his lightsaber out wide. Her wrist twisted deftly to disengage the shining blades, and then she leapt straight up.

Kyp somersaulted down the stairs, turned, and came up with his lightsaber held high and ready. The younger Jedi dropped to the floor beside him and delivered two quick, testing jabs. He parried both. They drew apart and circled, taking each other’s measure, exchanging blows that became less tentative with each strike.

Jaina’s confident smile began to falter. “I’m not going to let you stop this next flight.”

She whirled away from Kyp’s high, slashing attack and caught his weapon in an overhead parry. A quick twist brought her around to face him. He disengaged and stepped back. “Who said I wanted to stop the mission? I want to fly it.”

Jaina blinked. “You do?”

“If the mission is that important, I’ll go myself.”

“Forget it. The Jedi are too few and too valuable to risk.”

“I know,” he agreed, “and that’s precisely why I need to go.”

She stepped back, still in guard position, and eyed him warily.

“Let’s just say I’m taking my responsibilities seriously. I don’t want my apprentice to make some of the same mistakes I made.”

Jaina’s lightsaber flashed forward, forcing him to parry. “What apprentice? You haven’t beaten me yet.”

“I will,” he said with a cocky smile. “And we both know it. We also know how difficult expectations can be. You’ve got to live up to your famous parents, which in some ways is even more difficult than living down a monumental failure.”

“You can’t compare our situations.”

“We both lost brothers.”

“And maybe hitting the Yuuzhan Vong hard will give some meaning to my brothers’ deaths.”

“I tried to avenge my brother,” Kyp reminded her, “and I ended up killing him. Your mother thinks Jacen’s still alive. What if she’s right?”

Jaina lowered her lightsaber, and her face was a study of stunned fury. The older Jedi shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, gaining balance in preparation for the coming attack.

But Jaina switched off her weapon. “You want the mission?
Take it. But you’d better survive it. We’re not finished here. Not by a long shot.”

She stormed out of the docking bay, leaving Kyp staring thoughtfully after her.

   Jag Fel came into the docking bay in time to catch part of the battle, and some of the conversation. He began to understand Tenel Ka’s concern for Jaina, and on impulse he sprinted over, catching her by the back exit.

He skidded to a stop and suddenly realized that he had no idea what to say. Jaina eyed him warily.

“I came to thank you for your help,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

By now he’d fallen into more of a rhythm. “Word has it that you’ve been recruiting Hapan pilots, getting them back into the skies. I don’t have enough scouts to cover this area. Every set of eyes helps. And when the time comes to fight, there will be more pilots prepared and aware.”

Some of the ice around Jaina’s heart seemed to melt just a bit. For some reason, Jag’s comment took some of the sting out of her recent encounter with Kyp. “We all do what we can.”

“You and your family have given more than most,” he observed. “Forgive me, but I heard what Kyp Durron said to you. I know how difficult these times can be. I, too, lost two siblings in battle.”

Jaina bristled. “So what are you saying? That my loss is no greater than anyone else’s? Anakin and Jacen no more important than any other casualty?”

Too late, Jag realized that this was not the sort of truth that a grieving person could absorb. “That’s not what I intended to portray.”

Her ire faded quickly. “Forget it.” She blew her bangs away from her eyes, a small gesture that seemed incredibly
weary. “So why did you come? You’re not usually one for small talk.”

And that, Jag noted, was the dilemma. He couldn’t exactly blurt out, “Don’t marry Prince Isolder.”

“You have a natural gift for leadership,” he continued. “People will follow you, whether you want them to or not. Rank is not important to someone like you.”

Jaina’s face went very still. “This is all very interesting, but where is it going?”

“I just wanted to express an opinion,” he said, feeling incredibly awkward. “The rank you were born with suits you very well. Anything more would be redundant.”

“I see,” she said in a flat tone. “Coming from the son of Baron Fel—a jumped-up Corellian dirt farmer—that’s worth about as much as Ithorian currency.”

Jag began to feel his own temper rise. “Why must you take offense at every turn?”

“Why must you answer questions that no one bothered to ask?” she returned heatedly.

To Jag’s astonishment, she turned and fled. He watched her go, wondering what meaning she might have heard in his words that he had never intended to place there.

   Jaina slowed to a walk as soon as she left the docking bay behind, but her heart held pace, hammering in her ears.

What was Jag Fel’s problem? Sure, maybe she’d flirted with him a little at the diplomatic dinner, but had she ever given him reason to warn her off?

Keep to her rank
. Yeah, right. Keep out of
his
, most likely!

For some reason the notion of a Baroness Jaina must have crawled up his exhaust and nested, and, honorable and forthright guy that he was, he just had to let her know that this wasn’t in the sabacc cards. Well, thanks for the clarification, but who asked?

Jaina took a long, steadying breath and tried to banish Jag Fel from her thoughts. He was a distraction, and that was the last thing she needed right now. She’d been surprised by Jag’s visit, but she wasn’t even sure if she cared enough to be angry about it.

But she kicked at a parked repulsorsled, just in case she was.

Harrar’s priestship and its military escort approached the Hapes Cluster, following the reports of sightings of their stolen frigate.

“There,” Khalee Lah said, stabbing at the living map with a taloned finger.

Tiny, luminous creatures moved slowly across the screen, marking the place where the yammosk had discerned the signature of the stolen ship. There was a definite pattern. The thief was venturing farther out of Hapan space each time. The next foray would take her directly into the priestship’s path.

The warrior glanced at Harrar, his split lips stretched in a leer of anticipation. “The warmaster will have his
Jeedai
sacrifice. We hunt,” he snapped at the crew. “Summon every ship within communication range that has engaged this would-be Trickster. She has hidden long enough in the shadow of Yun-Harla. Soon those who whisper words of heresy will see this infidel for the pitiful creature she is!”

As the crew hurried to do Khalee Lah’s bidding, Harrar settled down in an observation seat and prepared to watch the battle. A now familiar prickle edged down his spine as he prepared to confront the
Jeedai
.

Khalee Lah took the command chair. His long, knobby finger caressed the nodes as he gathered information. “The
Ksstarr
is approaching.”

The priest glanced toward his commander. “Alone?”

“With an escort.” The warrior’s sneer was visible beneath the hood. “One small ship.”

A strange wave of disappointment swept through Harrar. He had expected better from Jaina Solo. “Capture them both.”

   When Kyp emerged from hyperspace, his controls immediately began to flash warnings. The programmed hyperspace jump had brought him directly between two flanks of Yuuzhan Vong ships. Immediately all the lights began to converge on his location. Soon they’d be in visual range, and they would know that he wasn’t flying the stolen Yuuzhan Vong frigate. More, they’d know that there
was
no
Trickster
—except for the one who’d sent an X-wing up to project the stolen ship’s unique signal.

“Planned this a bit tight, didn’t you, Jaina?” he murmured. A sharp jolt hit Kyp’s fighter, and sensors flared out a low-shield warning signal. One of the ships was using its dovin basal to strip off his shields.

Kyp boosted up the inertial compensator, expanding the protection this system gave to ship and pilot several meters and moving it out beyond the ship’s normal shields—a trick invented by Gavin Darklighter early in the war. Even as he did, he realized that this was no solution. Gavin had not been flying alone.

Two coralskippers closed in, and again Kyp felt the tug and pull of the gravity beams. He dialed down the inertial compensator. Too much stress, and it could pull the ship apart from the inside.

A second X-wing exploded out of the darkness of space. A blue flash burst from it, and the big ship dissolved in a bright flare. The coralskippers released their hold on Kyp’s fighter and circled around to deal with this new threat. His comm crackled.

“Get out of there, Kyp,” Jaina warned.

“And leave you alone? I don’t think so.”

“Turn off the gravitic transmitter—lower left console, yellow dial. Find a ship about the
Trickster
’s size. Strafe it. I’ll be right behind you.”

A faint smile curved Kyp’s lips. He glanced at the screen and selected a target, then relayed its coordinates to Jaina.

The two X-wings swept toward the frigate analog. Kyp leaned on the splinter-shot trigger. Hundreds of underpowered bolts sprayed the coral ship. A small black hole swallowed most of them, but many of the small lasers found a mark.

So, too, did some of the small concussion missiles Jaina fired.

“The seed’s been planted,” Jaina said. “Let’s go.”

Kyp turned his X-wing into a rolling turn and then shot off toward the mists. The stars stretched into lines, echoing the smile that spread over his face.

The seed had been planted, all right.

   Khalee Lah removed the cognition hood and nodded to his secondary pilot. He turned to Harrar and brought himself up at sharp, military attention.

“Eminence. The
Ksstarr
has been secured.”

The priest rose and followed the warrior to the large bay that filled the entire lower level of the priestship. Warriors ringed the captured ship.

“Open it,” the commander ordered.

Before anyone could respond, the hatch irised open and a small ramp lowered. The heavy tread of a warrior in vonduun crab armor thudded down the ramp.

“What is the meaning of this?” he thundered. His ire faded into slack astonishment as he found himself face-to-face with Khalee Lah.

He did not seem to notice that the commander was
equally astonished. The warrior pilot fell to one knee, fists thumping his shoulders. “Command me. My life is yours.”

Harrar moved forward. “You will report to the coralskipper bay. A ship will be given you. This one requires the attention of the shapers.”

The pilot rose, saluted again, and strode away. Harrar dismissed the warriors with a single curt gesture.

The priest turned to Khalee Lah, suppressing an unholy impulse to gloat. “This is not the
Ksstarr
,” he said with what he thought to be admirable restraint. “Perhaps none of the ships we encountered was.”

“One of them will be,” the warrior snarled. He snapped his gaze up to Harrar’s. “We need more ships. Jaina Solo will be found, and she will be sacrificed. This I swear, by the goddess she blasphemes!”

   Jaina adjusted the cognition hood and picked up the standard comm device Lowbacca had installed in the
Trickster
.

“Get ready,” she warned the pilots flying with her. “I’m sensing a small fleet coming out of hyperspace. They should be within firing range soon.”

“Too vapin’ soon,” another pilot retorted.

A faint, nervous chuckle wafted through the open comm, dying quickly as the Yuuzhan Vong fleet streaked out of the blackness of hyperspace.

Coralskippers veered swiftly away from larger corvette and frigate analogs, scattering into well-disciplined ranks. Behind them were three oddly shaped vessels that defied classification. Starlight gleamed off the polished black facets of a large, gemlike ship.

Jaina’s eyes narrowed. She remembered that ship from Myrkr. It had arrived just as she and the other Jedi escaped. This would be the priestship. Well, it was in for a few surprises.

“Just like in practice,” Kyp’s voice put in.

A metallic beep and whir came over the comm. “More advice from Zero-One?” one of the pilots guessed.