Abyss (21 page)

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” her father snorted.

“Well, it would
me,
” Jaina shot back. “The Moffs made it death for Boba Fett to return to Mandalore
forever
. I don’t see the Mandalorians asking
anyone
in the Empire for a ride.”

“True,” her mother said. “But you’re a smart girl, Jaina. You
know
what we mean.”

Jaina sighed. Letting her chin drop like a ten-year-old caught in a fib, she surreptitiously checked her chrono once more. It had been nearly a quarter hour since she had commed Jag. Assuming he been on his way to meet Daala, he couldn’t have been very far from the Temple at the time. He’d be here any minute, and the last thing she needed was for him to come striding into the lab before she made her parents understand
why
he had kept the secret—at least if she wanted them to come to the wedding.

“Okay,” Jaina said. “Let’s say Jag
did
know the Mandalorians were coming. So what? That doesn’t mean he should tell
us
.”

“What are you, going bugbent again?” her father exploded. “We’re
the closest thing he’s got to family right now! And Luke’s the one who
gave
him that gig.”

“And that
gig
comes with a long list of duties and obligations,” Jaina replied, just as hotly. “None of which includes being a Jedi! He’s having enough trouble keeping the Moffs in line without getting into the middle of our problems with Daala.”

Jaina knew by the long silence that followed that she had just let the rancor jump out of the pit. She hadn’t been shocked enough—
angry
enough—to be hearing this for the first time. Her father winced like a sabacc player who had just realized he was betting into a perfect hand, and she turned to find her mother studying her with a slack jaw and narrowed eyes.

“You
knew,
” her mother said. “And you didn’t tell anyone.”

Jaina let out a long breath. “Mom, there’s a lot at stake—”

“Wait a minute,” her father interrupted. He looked to her mother, then pointed at Jaina. “
She
knew about the bucketheads?”

Her mother closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, Han. Jaina knew about the Mandos, and she knew Jag wasn’t telling us. That’s why she’s defending him.”

“I’m defending him because he was keeping the oath he swore to always act in the Empire’s best interests,” Jaina replied. “The oath that he swore because
Uncle Luke
pushed him into becoming their Head of State.”

Her father’s gaze turned cold and angry, rocking her back on her heels. “What about the oaths
you
swore?” he demanded. “Don’t they count, now that you’re about to become High Lady Fel?”

He shook his head in disgust, then spun on his heel and stormed off toward the door, leaving Jaina too stunned to reply—and on the brink of falling back into the dark well of solitude and remorse that had nearly swallowed her after she had killed Jacen. She turned, and found her mother’s gaze only marginally less condemning than her father’s, though the expression on her face was one of disappointment rather than anger.

“Mom, you need to understand,” Jaina said.

Before she could explain how Jag was trying to bring the Remnant fully into the Galactic Alliance, her mother raised a hand to silence her.

“Jaina, we’ll talk about this later,” she said, starting after Han. “Right now, I’d better make sure Han doesn’t hurt someone.”

Jaina nodded, thinking that her mother was just speaking in exaggerated terms—but then she, too, felt a familiar presence approaching the lab doorway.

“Oh,
kriff
!” Jaina started toward the front of the lab—until her mother pointed a finger at the stool.

“
Sit,
” she ordered. “
I’ll
handle your father.”

The door
whooshed
open even before she finished speaking, then Jagged Fel came striding around the corner in full ceremonial collar and tabard—and ran headlong into Han Solo coming through the other way.

“Oh, Captain Solo—my apologies,” Jag said, reaching out to steady him. “Jaina didn’t say you would—”

“Out of my way, sleemo!” Han’s palms caught Jag near the armpits and sent him stumbling back into his astonished Rodian escort. “Don’t think I won’t blast you just because it might start a war.”

With that, he bulled past and vanished from sight, leaving Jag standing slack-jawed as Jaina’s mother stepped into the doorway.

“Uh, Princess Leia,” Jag said tentatively, “I’m not sure what
that
was about—”

“Sure you are,” Leia interrupted. She stepped closer to Jag, not stopping until she was nose-to-chest, then glared up into his eyes. “My daughter seems to think you had a good reason for keeping quiet, and maybe you
did
. But this should probably be the last time we see you inside the Jedi Temple for a while.”

Jag’s face fell. He looked angry, guilty, and embarrassed all at once, but he didn’t try to argue or explain. He simply nodded.

“Of course—I understand.” He looked toward Jaina, then asked, “Would it be acceptable for me to have a few words with Jaina before I go?”

Leia scowled into the lab. “I think you’d better,” she said. “You two definitely have some things to discuss.”

With that, she turned and vanished down the hall after Han.

Jaina dropped onto the stool and sat staring at the floor as she listened to Jag’s heels click across the floor toward her.

“I know better than to think you told them.”

There was just enough of a question in Jag’s tone to hurt Jaina, and make her feel even more alone. She reminded herself that once, long ago, she
had
given him a reason to doubt her promise. It helped her bite back the sharp reply that had risen almost automatically inside her.

“I don’t know how they found out,” she said evenly. “They mentioned a spy, but they weren’t in a mood to talk about it.”

Jag stopped in front of her and nodded. “I don’t suppose it matters, at least not at this stage.” There was more confidence in his voice now, and relief. “But it
is
going to complicate things.”

Jaina looked up and snorted, so shell-shocked by the implications of what had just happened—for her, the Jedi, and the future of the Galactic Alliance—that she felt on the verge of hysterical laughter.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I’m sure I don’t,” Jag said, reaching for her hands. “But we’ll get through it, I promise. When your parents realize how important this secret was to the unification talks, they’ll understand the impossible position I put you in.”

“Yeah, well don’t expect them to forgive you for
that
.” Jaina managed a weak smile, then pulled her hands free. “But that’s not what I meant. Do you recognize
this
?”

She retrieved the parasite droid from the lab table and held it in front of him.

Jag’s eyes went wide. “I’m afraid I do.” He glanced at the parts scattered in front of Jaina. “From inside the cleaning droid?”

Jaina nodded. “Afraid so,” she said. “Lecersen?”

“Probably. I’ll know for sure once I access its memory.”

“How do you know I haven’t done that already?” Jaina asked.

“Because it’s still in one piece, and you still have all your fingers.”

Jag reached for the parasite droid, but Jaina quickly pulled it away.

“Not so fast,” she said. “The Jedi need to get
something
out of this mess.”

Jag let out a long breath, then nodded. “Okay,” he said. “You can have it back when we’ve removed the self-destruct charge and copied its memory.”

“Deal.” Jaina stretched up to kiss him, then said, “But I think there’s one other thing you’re going to need it for.”

Jag frowned in bewilderment.

“Show it to Daala.” Jaina put the droid in his hand and folded his fingers around it. “It might do us
all
some good.”

Ship was out there in the fern-and-fungus jungle. Vestara could feel his dark presence somewhere across the crimson river, up on the shoulder of a fume-belching volcano that dominated the horizon ahead. He was pushing at her in the Force almost physically, battering her with fear and alarm and anger in his efforts to make her turn back. He did not want her and the rest of her companions to remain here with him. Ship had taught them everything they needed to restore the Sith Empire to the galaxy, and now he wanted them to abandon him to his fate and fulfill their own destiny.

Vestara understood all this. But Grand Lord Vol had sent the
Eternal Crusader
and her crew to return Ship to Kesh, and return Ship they would. Vestara concentrated on Ship’s presence for a moment, then raised her hand and pointed to a dark outcropping of basalt, about a quarter of the way up the volcano.

“Ship is somewhere near there,” she said. “I don’t know where exactly,
but he must have a view of us. He’s pushing very hard to turn me back.”

Lady Rhea studied the outcropping from the barren bank where the recovery party was standing, out in the full light of the blue sun. Normally they would have tried to shelter themselves by crouching beneath the fern-trees along the river, but they had learned the hard way that the foliage on this strange planet was to be feared more than the oppressive heat.

After a moment, Rhea nodded and brought a comlink to her mouth. “
Crusader
. You have our position?”

“Affirmative.”

The reply came in the melodious voice of Baad Walusari, the Keshiri Saber she had left in command while she led the recovery party. In most navies, it would have been the executive officer who assumed control of the vessel while the commander was away. But a Sith who made such a foolish mistake was unlikely to find herself in command of
anything
when she tried to return to the vessel. Master Xal was right there with the search party, where Lady Rhea could keep an eye on him.

“Very good,” Lady Rhea commed. “Ship is hiding on that volcano to our west. Be ready with the tractor beam if it attempts to move.”

Walusari acknowledged the command, and Lady Rhea began to issue orders to the recovery party, assigning search pairs and calling for a careful approach on a wide front. Vestara and Lady Rhea would make straight for the outcropping, of course, with everyone else fanning out to either side of them.

“Ship is too smart to show itself where the
Crusader
can get a sensor lock,” Lady Rhea finished, walking in front of the long line of Sabers she had brought down for the recovery operation. “So it will be someone in this party who finds it. If that happens to be you, report its location, then wait for me to arrive and take control of the situation personally. Is that clear?”

Most of the Sabers assured her it was, but a ginger-skinned woman named Axela Zin asked, “What if Ship attempts to flee?”

“Don’t let it,” Lady Rhea replied. “Ship obeys any Sith with a
strong will. You all have that, or you wouldn’t be here. Simply order it to remain where it is, then wait until I arrive.”

Axela dropped her chin in submission. “Thank you for your counsel, Lady Rhea. I’m most grateful.”

Rhea dismissed the gift with a flick of her hand. “Think nothing of it, Saber Zin. I’m certain others were also in need of guidance.” She stopped at the opposite end of the line from where Vestara was standing, then turned and said, “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you to watch yourselves in this jungle. But if something
does
get you, die quietly. Your family will be rewarded if you do—and punished if you don’t.”

Lady Rhea was correct: the reminder wasn’t necessary. Already, four members of the recovery party had been taken by the carnivorous plants that seemed to be more the rule than the exception on this strange world. But the exhortation to die quietly was received with the shudder that Vestara was certain Lady Rhea had intended, being as it was a none-too-subtle reminder that the reach of a Sith Lord extended even beyond a surbordinate’s grave.

After giving the warning a moment to sink in, Lady Rhea signaled Master Xal and Ahri to wait, then waved the rest of the party across the river. Most of the Sabers elected to simply Force-jump to the far bank, and, as they landed, Vestara was sorry to see a trio of long-thorned boughs swing down from a tall, funnel-shaped tree to impale ginger-skinned Axela Zin. Already holding her lightsaber in hand, Zin quickly cut the boughs free of their woody stems, but more were already swinging down from other directions. Her search partner and another Saber quickly drew the glass parangs from their belt sheaths and hurled them into the melee. By the time the blades arrived, Zin was already swaddled in vines and being drawn up into the tree’s crown. Vestara hoped the fact that she wasn’t struggling also meant she was already dead.

“Not a whimper,” Xal noted, stepping over to join Lady Rhea. “I believe her son is a Tyro.”

“Make a note, Vestara.”

Although Vestara had every confidence in her ability to remember even a long list of names correctly, her own survival was far from assured.
So she dutifully removed a small leather writing case from her pocket, then pricked her finger with a blood stylus and wrote Zin’s name on a leaf of loub-paper.