Her eyes narrowed. “Beyond any other interest I would have taken in a Jedi in distress, yes.”
He rose to his feet. The huge branch swayed beneath him as a breeze ruffled the leaves. “What are you going to do?” he asked.
Her wide mouth twisted in thought. “There isn’t a general search for me, or you’d have heard. That means that only the Intelligence people will be looking for me, which will make it easier to evade them.” She craned her long neck to look at her shuttle. “My craft came to Mon Calamari with a family of refugees who sold it to buy food. Sooner or later the dealer to whom they sold it will notice that it’s missing from its orbit, and then there’ll be a search, but that won’t matter—the hyperdrive engines are ready to give up the ghost, and I’ll be lucky to get out of the Kashyyyk system.” She turned to Jacen. “Can you give me a ride in your fighter?”
“Certainly. But to where?”
“To your ship, perhaps?”
He blinked at her. “It’s an assault cruiser,” he said. “It’s got over a thousand crew.”
“It’s easy to pass as one among thousands, yes?” Vergere smiled. “And I would be less conspicuous in a uniform, no?”
“No,” Jacen said. He decided to pass over the unlikely chance that he’d find a uniform that would fit Vergere. “Most of the crew are Bothans. The starfighter pilots are from all over, but there aren’t that many of them, and—”
“No doubt there are supply vessels coming on and off the ship all the time,” Vergere said. “Cargo coming on and off, and being placed in storage. And dispatch boats, and shuttles to other ships. Hundreds of escape pods. With all that confusion, surely one single individual could find a way off the ship and to safety.” She smiled. “I am very good at being invisible.”
Jacen sighed. He sensed an inevitability in the offing. “Let’s hope there aren’t any big snakes aboard,” he said.
* * *
“I’m glad to know that creepy little bird is gone,” Han said. “It was all I could do not to wring her neck for what she did to Jacen.” He looked around. “Where did Vergere go to, anyway?”
“I’m not sure,” Luke said. He quelled the uneasiness in his mind and asked Han and Leia to sit. The pair took the seats offered and then the drinks that Mara brought into the room. Mara took her own drink and sat on the sofa next to Luke. He put his arm around her.
“I wanted to tell you that I’ll be leaving for a while,” Luke said. “I’m going across the galaxy to Fondor, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
Leia looked at him. “Is it something you can talk about?”
“I’m going to Garm Bel Iblis,” Luke said. “He commands at Fondor, and since the fall of Coruscant he’s been operating independently of Sien Sovv and the military.”
“Just like he did in the Rebellion,” Han said. “Bel Iblis likes running his own show.”
“When he was given orders, at first he responded that the situation in his sector was different than the Supreme Commander thought, and therefore he declined to carry them out. Lately he hasn’t been responding to orders at all.”
“You brought him into the fold once before,” Leia said. “I guess Cal thinks you can do it again.”
“It hasn’t been important until now,” Luke said. “Bel Iblis has been doing more or less what he should have been doing anyway, defending his sector and harassing the enemy. But now Ackbar has a plan to win the war, and we need to know whether Bel Iblis will be in at the finish.”
Leia considered the question. “He’ll be in. He’s headstrong and independent, but he’ll be on the right side when it counts.”
“I hope so,” Mara said. “I’d hate for Luke to make that long trip for nothing.”
Leia gave Luke a curious look. “This mission is taking you away from the Jedi—I mean, the High Council. Can you be absent for such a long time?”
“I’ll give my proxy to Cilghal,” Luke said. “She’ll speak and vote for me, and for Saba, who gave me her proxy when she joined.”
The strain between Luke and Cal hadn’t affected the running of the High Council. Cal seemed perfectly friendly, if a bit reserved. But he no longer shared confidential information with Luke—if there were military or political secrets that Luke wasn’t already a part of, then they were never mentioned in Luke’s presence.
The trust was gone. Luke didn’t know whether he would ever win it back.
Luke, for his part, still had hopes of convincing Cal not to use Alpha Red at all.
But if necessary, Luke would poll the other Jedi members privately. The influence of the council as a whole might tip the balance against Dif Scaur and his plan. Together, they might be able to take a principled stand against the use of the weapon.
But that was for the future. For now, Luke was dedicated to making sure that Ackbar’s plan was carried out. If the Yuuzhan Vong were defeated, then the arguments against Alpha Red would bear all that much more weight.
Luke turned to Han. “Speaking of Ackbar,” he said, “he asked me if you’d do him a favor.”
Ice rang in Han’s glass as he drained it. “Anything,” he said.
“He’d like you to resume your military rank and take command of a squadron.”
Han placed his glass firmly on the table next to his seat. “You know, I never did take to the military,” he said. “And the military never took to me. If Ackbar just wants to make both me and the fleet miserable …”
“He’d like you to take command of the squadron contributed by the Smugglers’ Alliance,” Luke said. “Talon Karrde, Booster Terrik, and the Errant Venture … They’re a hard bunch, anarchic and rebellious and undisciplined. The ships are a heterogeneous jumble, and any tactics would have to be improvised by the squadron commander.”
Leia, a little grim, turned to her husband. “I’d use the word never if I were you.”
“Lando’s part of it, too,” Luke added. “You know he’d make mincemeat out of a regular fleet officer. Anyone who could control that bunch would have to be as rough as they are, and as experienced. The commander would have to be able to fly the pants off any of them, and—”
“And whip fifty times his weight in angry krayt dragons,” Leia finished. She looked at Han. “You see what my brother’s trying to do, don’t you?” she said. “He’s trying to flatter you into taking this job. He’s trying to tell you that only Han Solo could possibly be tough enough for this assignment.”
Han smiled. “He’s right of course,” he said. “But the word never is still on the tip of my tongue.”
Luke sighed. “You’re going to force me to fight dirty,” he said. “I really didn’t want to do this.”
Han laughed. “Hit me with your best shot.”
Luke made an apologetic gesture. “During the upcoming operation, the Smugglers’ Alliance squadron will be in support of Admiral Kre’fey’s fleet. Which includes your children. Sorry.”
Han looked stricken. Leia narrowed her eyes and glared at her brother. “That is really underhanded, Luke,” she said.
“I know,” Luke said.
“We had both gotten out. We were going to have time together. We were going to be happy.”
“Sorry.”
“And now …” She clenched her fists. “Now it’s all up to us again, isn’t it?”
Luke smiled. “The fate of the galaxy may well rest in your hands. Yes. It’s unfair, but that’s the way it is.”
Leia raised a fist. “When this is over,” she said, “remind me to hit you.”
Luke raised his hands peaceably. “Kyp’s first in line,” he said, “but when this is over, take all the shots you want.”
Jacen was returning from Kashyyyk to the Ralroost when he was commed by Kyp Durron.
“I need all Jedi on Mon Adapyne for a meeting. It’s urgent.”
“Can I wash and change first?” Jacen asked. “I’ve been down on Kashyyyk, and I’m kind of a mess.”
“I said urgent,” Kyp snapped. “We need you now.”
Jacen considered the small figure of Vergere, who was crammed into the cockpit on his lap. Better make yourself very small, he thought.
“Acknowledged,” he said.
Vergere managed to avoid discovery when Jacen landed his X-wing in the cruiser’s capacious docking bays. She remained in the cockpit, ducking down out of sight as he dropped to the deck and went in search of his fellow Jedi.
Kyp, seated at the end of one of the mess tables, had assembled the other Jedi in a corner of the officers’ mess. Jacen entered cautiously and saw Corran Horn along with Jaina, Tesar, Lowbacca, and the other newly made Jedi. As he entered, Saba and her squadron of Wild Knights turned to stare at him with glittering reptilian eyes. Jacen tried to calm the panic that fluttered in his rib cage, and said, “What’s going on?”
Kyp looked at him. “I have an urgent message from Master Skywalker. He said that Vergere has run away from Mon Calamari, and if we see her we’re to detain her and take her to Mon Calamari or to New Republic Intelligence.”
Even though he’d known approximately what the message would contain, still Jacen felt an unpleasant surge of emotion at Kyp’s words.
In the last few months, Jacen had become an expert at deception. He’d lied to the Yuuzhan Vong, and he’d lied to Ganner Rhysode in order to capture him for the enemy. But lying to an entire room of Jedi—Jedi alongside of whom he’d been fighting for the last months—was a new ordeal.
“Vergere?” he said, calming himself. “What’s she done?”
“Master Skywalker didn’t say. But it has to be important, because Vergere is now our number one priority. If we have any notion where she might be, we’re to drop everything and go in search of her. But we’re not to search alone—Vergere is to be considered dangerous and should be apprehended by Jedi working as teams.”
Saba Sebatyne raised a hand. “We are not to break into packz and search the galaxy now, are we?”
“No. We’re to stay with the fleet until we hear from Vergere or until we hear of her. And then we’re to get her secured and back where she belongs.” He turned his eyes to Jacen, and Jacen felt a cold hand brush his spine.
“You’re closer to her than anyone here,” Kyp said. “Master Skywalker thought she might try to contact you.”
“She’d have to be out of her mind to come to Kashyyyk,” Jacen said, with perfect truth. “There are too many Jedi here.”
“Right,” Kyp said, though Jacen still sensed his suspicion. Kyp rose from the table. “It’s unlikely that we’ll see her—we’re all moving out, anyway.”
Jacen stood quietly motionless on the deck. “Moving out?”
“Right, brother,” Jaina said. “We’re on continual alert. Something big’s happening—the whole fleet’s getting ready to move.”
“Rumor says it’s the Core,” Corran Horn said. “But we know how accurate rumor’s been in this war.”
Jaina, on her way out of the meeting, slapped Jacen on the shoulder. “See you when we get there,” she said.
Wherever there is, Jacen thought.
And wondered, now that the whole fleet was on alert, how he was going to get Vergere off his ship.
TWENTY-FOUR
“We’re installing blastproof doors here,” the engineer said. “Once you get your people inside, you can drop the doors and be perfectly safe for, oh, several hours at least.”
“Several hours at least,” Jaina repeated. In the frigid air, her breath misted out in front of her as she spoke. She looked at the busy droids, which were lifting huge, clattering pneumatic hammers to widen the old mineshaft.
What no one had yet explained to her was why she would have to seek safety from the enemy in the tunnels of Ebaq 9, which seemed to be a perfectly useless moonlet at the end of a twisty hyperspace passage into the Deep Core.
But that seemed a part of the plan. Whatever the plan was.
Ebaq 9 was abuzz with military engineers, modifying the docking bays that once held mining shuttles, installing shields and a modern communications system, bringing the old life-support and artificial gravity systems up to current specs. The engineers were protected by a reinforced squadron under General Farlander, forty capital ships in all, far larger than the force he’d led at Obroa-skai.
Farlander, with Jaina under his command, was supposed to defend this useless moon. But the moon was also being turned into a giant bunker, and Jaina and the others were being given instruction in how to hide there.
Why hide? Why defend Ebaq 9 in the first place? The plan didn’t make any sense.
Nor did Jaina know where the rest of Traest Kre’fey’s fleet had gone. Kre’fey, Jacen, and most of the other Jedi hadn’t come to Ebaq 9 with Jaina and Farlander; they were off on some other mission. Jaina didn’t know where.
All she knew were the drills. Maneuvers aimed at readying Farlander’s squadron for defending the mined-out moon, then more maneuvers aimed at breaking off combat, landing on the moon, and hiding deep underground.
“We’ll have power packs, lifesuits, blasters, and ammunition stored here,” the engineer went on. “We’ll also have dried rations and water.”
“Blasters,” Jaina repeated. “Ammunition.” She shivered in her heavy jacket, and the movement almost lifted her from the deck in the moonlet’s light gravity. Her inner ear trembled on the edge of vertigo.
According to rumor, this plan was Ackbar’s work.
Jaina hoped not. Because that meant that Ackbar, as well as his plan, was insane.
“Time to give them their first hint,” Mara said. “The first hint of the final redoubt in the Deep Core.”
Nylykerka’s eyes brightened. “How much should we tell them?”
“Just give them a hint at first,” Mara advised. “We don’t want to hand them the whole thing. If they put the pieces together themselves, they’ll believe even more in what they’re learning.”
“Very well,” Nylykerka said.
“Perhaps the office of Senator Krall Praget could hear about an emergency appropriation for a base in the Deep Core. And you could combine that with a leak concerning an evacuation drill for the Chief of State and the Advisory Council.”
Nylykerka’s air sac throbbed thoughtfully. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I think that might do the job.”
Stars blossomed around Jacen as Ralroost fell out of hyperspace. He sat in front of Admiral Kre’fey on the assault cruiser’s bridge, with tactical displays laid out around him.
They were as deep in the Deep Core as he’d ever ventured, the stars packed so tightly around them that it was never quite night.
“Ebaq Nine,” Kre’fey said meditatively, as the moon and its giant primary appeared on the navigation arrays. He turned to the communications officer. “Send my compliments to General Farlander, and request that he report aboard at his earliest convenience.” He turned to Jacen. “If you wish to see your sister,” he said, “you have my permission.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Jacen rose from his seat and withdrew from Ralroost’s bridge. Kre’fey’s fleet had reached the end of their long, erratic journey.
While Farlander’s squadron had flown directly to Ebaq, Ralroost and the rest of Kre’fey’s fleet had been engaged in a series of raids against the enemy. On every occasion the Jedi wove their Force-meld to coordinate the attacking forces. Wayland, Bimmisaari, Gyndine, and even Nal Hutta had been hit. Gyndine had been defended by a larger force than Kre’fey wanted to tackle, but elsewhere the defenders, fighting bravely but at hopeless odds, had been destroyed.
Diversionary raids, Kre’fey had explained after they were over. They were designed to show the enemy that Kre’fey and his fleet were anywhere but where they were going—Ebaq 9, and the Deep Core.
Being continually in action meant that Jacen had been unable to smuggle Vergere off the flagship. After two days of hiding her in the cockpit of his X-wing, he’d managed to smuggle her to his quarters. There, she’d taken up residence in the storage area under his bunk. He’d tol
d the droid that cleaned his quarters to keep out.
Fortunately, he was in officers’ quarters and had a room to himself. The worst part was getting food to her, especially as she had a more-than-healthy appetite.
Another problem concerned Tahiri, who gamely continued with Jacen to try to find out if she could discover in herself a Vongsense. Jacen couldn’t have her in his cabin while Vergere was there, and produced various excuses why their practice had to be somewhere else less convenient. Not all of the excuses were convincing, but Tahiri seemed to accept them.
They failed in their attempt to develop any Vongsense in Tahiri, though Jacen privately thought this might be because there were no Yuuzhan Vong in the vicinity. And if there were Yuuzhan Vong around, the Jedi would be fighting them and have no time for meditations.
The only compensation for the perilous situation was that he and Vergere, in the privacy of his cabin, were able to share their meditations.
Leaving Ralroost, Jacen took his X-wing to the moonlet and met Jaina in the docking bay that had been modified to fly and arm military craft. Twin Suns Squadron’s X-wings were neatly parked there, ready to launch on a moment’s notice.
Jaina looked tired. Her skin was pasty, her hair limp, and she looked as if she hadn’t been out of her jumpsuit in days. Jacen didn’t need the Force to sense her discouragement.
“I don’t know what we’re doing here,” she said, after giving him a weary embrace. “Half the time we’re drilling on launching to defend the system, and the rest of the exercises have us running for bunkers.”
“We’ve got dozens of capital ships here,” Jacen said. “We have all the Jedi we need to form a meld. We can start joint exercises.”
“You all can’t run for bunkers,” Jaina said. She shook her head. “This is worse than anything I’ve ever seen. I hate this—I’m just nailed to this rock. It’s like we have a huge target sign pasted on us. I’m best if I’m given freedom of action—freedom to be the Trickster. That’s the role that works for me.”
The Trickster, Jacen thought.
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