Am I stopping it too early? Will there be other evidence in there?

No, Ben had what mattered. The droid was self-Propelled, but he gave it a little Force a.s.sistance and plucked it out of the c.o.c.kpit, moving it to the floor and then sending it out of the doors and into the night. Once it was clear of the hangar ramp, he lifted it into the air and pulled it to him as fast as he could, almost smacking it into the side of a pa.s.sing repulsor truck in his haste. When it plopped onto the seat next to him in the traffic speeder, he couldn't stop himself clenching both fists and hissing, "Yes, yes, yes!" in triumph.

Now all he had to do was wait for Shevu to get away from Girdun and meet up with him. He moved the speeder onto the next intersection and sat with one hand on the droid as if it were an obedient pet that had done a clever trick. Eventually he heard Shevu said, "Hang this, I'll come back in the morning..., "and relief flooded his body.

By the time Shevu called him for a pickup from the next skylane, the captain was wearing plain black coveralls without insignia or rank, looking like a CSF tactical weapons officer. He dropped Ben and the droid off two blocks down from the apartment and disappeared to return the CSF speeder. Ben wondered how flexible the CSF admin system had to be for some officer to loan vehicles to a buddy for a highly irregular operation that had nothing to do with CSF-not officially.

Back in the apartment, Ben placed the droid on the table and sat staring at it as if it might make a dash for freedom, and almost expected his mother to appear to him again with some gesture of congratulation.

But she didn't, and he was disappointed. For the first time since finding her body, though, he felt that she wasn't totally gone. She was simply in another place. Unlike most beings in the galaxy, he actually knew that to be true and real, not just a sincere hope. It meant he could go on now.

He would, as he promised himself, live for her, and live well.

That evening, he and Shevu ate their supper in silence. There was a sense of anticlimax.

"I'll play Palpatine's advocate, "Shevu said, chewing slowly. "The hair. First you have to match it to your mother's - "

"Dad grabbed most of her stuff before he got out. He's got her brushes. Plenty of hair to match up DNA."

"I was going on to say that you'd need to prove there was no other way that the trace could have got into the StealthX."

"It was on Jacen's clothing." Ben tried to imagine how his mother's hair got pulled out. She'd bled, though; he could see that when he found her. "They must have fought hand-to-hand. That's.... grim."

"She hadn't got any traces of his skin under her nails or anything, so what were they doing for him to have grabbed her hair? Did he ambush her?"

"I don't know."

"A defense lawyer would say that Jacen might have picked up the hairs from you."

"I didn't touch her body. It was a crime scene. I wanted to, but I knew it was important to leave things alone."

"They'd say it's your word against Jacen's."

Ben felt irrationally angry. "And I'd say, Look at the body of evidence I'm building up. But it's Dad, isn't it? You're asking me if this is going to be enough to convince him."

"If I were still in CSF, I'd say it was enough for me to arrest him for questioning. At least."

"And then it's circ.u.mstantial."

"Take the droid, "Shevu said. "And let's get you back to wherever it is you're hanging out." Ben opened his mouth to say Endor, but Shevu held up a hand for silence. "I don't need to know. Okay?"

Ben pondered the nature of reasonable doubt. He was sure now. He didn't know if Dad would be.

He really needed one more clincher. But he had no idea what else there could possibly be that would prove beyond any doubt that it wasn't Alema Rar who had killed Mara Jade Skywalker, but Jacen Solo.

FLEET HQ, OPERATIONS CENTER, CORUSCANT.

Niathal made sure she was a daily visitor to Fleet HQ, but this was her second trip today, made without notice.

Her arrival had thrown the center into a quiet, barely noticeable panic, but it was panic all the same. Personnel tidied consoles and emptied cups of caf discreetly, thinking she wouldn't notice their attempt to bring the place up to captain's walk-through standards by the time she looked up from the screen she was studying. They never seemed to realize how wide a field of vision a Mon Cal had.

It's just caf. Forget it. We have much bigger problems.

"Admiral, is there anything I can do?" The Sull.u.s.tan op center commander hovered, uneasy at having a full Admiral of the Fleet ensconced in the ops room at a terminal, let alone one who was also joint Chief of State. He had the air of someone who was waiting for the ax to fall, and to be told that he had failed a surprise inspection for reasons he would never grasp. "There's always a private office avail-able for you."

Niathal could also have sat back in her own chair and watched Jacen's progress on the repeater holochart in her suite at the Senate, but the big picture wasn't what she was interested in. She wanted to see the detail. She wanted to see the way crews were prepped and briefed before Jacen jumped to hypers.p.a.ce, and she wanted to see if he'd slipped in any little extras that he'd neglected to mention-like the way the timing of the a.s.sault had slipped his mind. It would take a month or more for the orbital yards to use up their supplies, and even then they had sufficient water recycling capacity to hold out for another month on half or quarter rations without resupply. Fondorian yards were staffed mainly by humans, who could live on very few calories for a long time as long as they were hydrated. A week was far too soon.

She couldn't believe Jacen hadn't learned the lesson of Corellia. She was sure he had. And if he was half as sly and resourceful as she knew, he would have gone with the in-tention and enough troops and materiel to move to the a.s.sault phases...o...b..tals, then planet-as soon as he could.

Did he already know she was slipping information to Luke? Was this part of his test?

Stop thinking that way, or he's got you where he's got everyone else. You're a better tactician than that.

"Don't you have oversight of Colonel Solo's plans?" asked the commander. His name was Kenb but she could only see the K and the E on his tunic because his arms were folded tightly across his chest, creasing the fabric. "If there's anything wrong..."

"If there is, then it's my problem rather than yours, Commander, "she said kindly. Caf cups sc.r.a.ped faintly; flimsi rustled. When she turned her head, consoles were im-maculate again. I'm not Jacen. You don't have to be afraid of me. "I've been neglecting logistics, and I want to get up to speed again."

"Certainly, Admiral." Sull.u.s.tan faces weren't as obvi-ously mobile and expressive as a human's, but she knew disbelief when she saw it.

"Call me if you need anything."

Yes, in any normal government, the head of state and the defense secretary would discuss with the chiefs of staff how a major engagement was to be fought, and how it would be resourced. Yet here they were, a duumvirate combining all the roles of state and military, and still he was economical with information. It was rather like beings trying to pretend they were alone in a crowded turbolift; as long as eye contact could be avoided, the illusion of anonymous pri-vacy held. Jacen made vague noises about strategy, grabbed an a.s.sortment of ships, and ambled off to play. And she let him, because she had no idea how to stop him with her first shot.

She'd only get one chance. Wounded, he'd be a terrible enemy.

And I want to see what you packed for your little trip.

Jacen always had the Anakin Solo, of course; and Fon-dor was a relatively small world, a speck compared with Coruscant. Its neighbor Nallastia was even smaller, and might not even try to ride to the rescue.

Niathal called up the holochart from Jacen's office node and tried to work out what was inappropriate for Fondor. Because something didn't fit.

Mines-especially the latest self-dispersing Merr-Sonn Vigilante type-were quick and easy to lay, and Jacen didn't need many ships to do it; two for the planet side, and perhaps three for the outer cordon, simply because so many mines were needed to create a double sh.e.l.l around a planet. Other than that, it was simply a case of telling their pro-gram what they needed to do and where, scattering them, and the clever little things made their own way into position and formed their own communications net. They would stand guard for as long as it took, killing anything that tried to pa.s.s. They could even be deactivated and rounded up later, like an obedient flock.

Would have been a great idea to do that with Corellia.

But mines were indiscriminate killers, designed to be so, to send out a clear message that n.o.body could pa.s.s. The whole Corellian blockade had been as much a psychologi-cal lever, conceived at a time when Cal Omas had really thought that the war could end with talks, and when Jacen could be curbed, and when casualties could still-so they had thought-bring everyone to their senses.

"The minelayers are an hour into hypers.p.a.ce, "Kenb said. "Give them an hour to deploy on reaching the target and pull back outside the Fondorian limits."

Niathal had to let Luke know the full picture. He would only target Jacen, but any commander needed wider con-text.

She'd struggled with that decision on the short journey to HQ, because it would be as good as warning Fondeor and the crews and troops dragged along for Jacen's jaunt were her people. She might have been signing their death warrants.

But if I balk at this-is there any useful intelligence I can safely give the Jedi? GA personnel will almost always be involved.

No, she couldn't be selective. She had to choose now. It was literally a sickening sensation.

If Fondor doesn't roll over when faced with the prospect of having one or two of its cities turned into a transparisteel parking lot.... how is Jacen going to occupy the planet?

He'd embarked with 150,000 troops. Taking ten orbital yards would tie up most of them; and a.s.suming they suc-ceeded, it was labor-intensive to keep an eye on an indus-trial process where disgruntled workers would sabotage operations in a thousand small places. It wasn't enough even in the short to medium term. Jacen's battle awareness was extraordinary-a Sith skill, Luke said-and he might very well have known something that she didn't; but it didn't guarantee he wouldn't run into problems, or that his crew would try quite as hard as they had before Tebut was killed. Morale was a subtle thing. It was often the difference between inspired actions and failure.

"What's the latest estimate of the strength of the Remnant task force?" she asked.

"They're standing by with twenty Star Destroyers and carriers with air group embarked. a.s.sorted cruisers, auxiliaries, landing craft, and fast patrol vessels. No firm numbers on personnel overall, but a first wave of fifty thousand troops for the blockade, and they have small special forces units embarked to take strategic targets as required. They plan to join Colonel Solo just before the a.s.sault."

"I'd better talk to Pellaeon. See if he thinks this is genius or madness."

"I think I can guess what Gentleman Gil will say..."

It was rather touching; most personnel still had a soft spot for Pellaeon. Niathal didn't, but now that she had to work with him again, she'd find one temporarily. "Very well, I'm finished for the day. If anything changes, comm me."

Niathal valued the transit time from HQ to the Senate. Her official speeder had tinted screens and soundproofing, and so it was a haven, a few minutes each day when she could clear her mind.

Jacen isn't stupid. Not stupid enough to try to take Fon-dor with a fraction of the troops he needs, anyway. I just hope the Imperials are as good as their word. I bet they think they're going to get Fondor as a bonus for their trouble...

Jacen's vagueness about operational orders, part of his ad hoc way of running things lately, frustrated her im-mensely. It was all intangible feeling, Force intuition, and too few hard numbers; it worked more often than not, but she still didn't like what she couldn't see and measure. Jacen couldn't hold Fondor with those numbers unless the whole population capitulated, and even if governments did, citizens often had their own ideas about resistance. Either the Force was telling him Fondor was going to shrug and take it after a token exchange of fire, much as they skirmished on the limits of Fondor s.p.a.ce and didn't take it much farther, or he was overestimating his chances.

Maybe he had some Sith secret tactic that n.o.body had seen before.

She rubbed her face wearily. Either way, Luke Skywalker needed to know the attack was imminent. The chauffeur dropped her off at her club for the evening, and instead of savoring that brief respite when the biggest decision she had to make was what to order from the menu, she swept her room for eavesdropping devices and then composed an encrypted data sheet for Luke Skywalker with every detail he might need.

She wasn't sure how many Jedi had regrouped on Endor, but they had a way of punching way, way above their weight.

Give him a punch for me, Luke...

When Luke appeared, she spoke quickly. "Master Sky-walker, Fondor will be ring-fenced by Vigilante mines. Double sh.e.l.l. I estimate four or five hours and the fleet will follow shortly afterward."

Luke paused as if he was visualizing that. "I think Fon-dor was expecting something after the skirmish with the Anakin Solo."

"Yes, that was provocative. But there's more. Jacen's fol-lowing at twenty-three fifty-nine with part of the Fourth Fleet and a hundred and fifty thousand troops. He's plan-ning to isolate the orbital yards by mines and force a surrender, or so he says. The Imperial Remnant is backing him up. I'm sending you the data now-I'll update it when I can."

"What makes you think he might be lying?"

"He's Jacen. It's what he does. I don't believe he's stupid either.

Too few troops to take and hold both orbitals and planet, but a lot of capital ship firepower. My personal view is that he plans to draw the Fondorian forces out and then pound them so that the Imperials can move in." The thoughts were rolling out as she spoke, ideas breeding. "But he's not invincible."

"Is it a decoy attack?"

"I've seen no other ship movements or troop deploy-ments that even hint that he's going to stage a bigger oper-ation elsewhere."

"Or a smaller one?"

"I just don't know. But I'm going to spend the evening briefing a few captains to get my people out if this all goes to rot."

"Thanks, Admiral."

"You're welcome, Master Skywalker. Go ahead and ruin his day for me."

And maybe my own people's day, too. I hope not. I really do.

Niathal wandered down to the dining room and tried to work up some enthusiasm for the menu, but she had lost all desire to eat. She sat gazing in defocus at the fine linen and gold-rimmed Naboo porceplast plate, and found that even the water she sipped stuck in her throat.

She had been so certain that undermining Jacen Solo was the right thing to do. But collateral damage could never be avoided. It was part of war. She sent beings into battle, and some didn't come back.

But that was when she looked them in the eye, and more often than not stood on that same deck with them.

She had never felt less worthy of the uniform in her life.

Chapter 9.

You've probably heard this before, but it's a trap.

-Luke Skywalker, to the President of Fondor, warning of minelaying activity in Fondorian s.p.a.ce BRALSIN, NEARKELDABE.

"It's hard not to hate the Vong, "Jaina said.

She slipped off the pillion seat of the speeder bike and looked downhill, hands shielding her eyes against the sun. The broad shallow valley that sloped away from her was a patchwork of cultivated fields, woodland, ancient circular fortified homesteads, and a rash of small round roofs that marked new homes being built.

But there were still huge swathes of dead land, poisoned by the Yuuzhan Vong, where nothing grew.

"I don't try." Beviin unloaded the panniers and stacked armor plates. "I have a good hate and feel better for it. Better out than in, that's what I say."

"Did you bring me up here for the view?"

Jaina picked out MandalMotors' tower in the distance and an ungainly vessel tracking across the sky behind it; it was the tank-like thing that had given her a surprise when she entered Mandalorian s.p.a.ce.

There were two of them, in fact. She was intensely curious, partly because she had a feeling she might face one from the wrong side of a border one day, and partly because she was a pilot. It must have felt like flying a permacrete slab.

"Not really, "Beviin said. "But we won't have an audi-ence, and it's a spot with its own history."

"Yeah, I do seem to draw a crowd in your barn. You should sell tickets."

"A lot of folks haven't seen a live Jedi before."

"That's not very rea.s.suring."

"Just a figure of speech."

Jaina followed Beviin to the top of the small hill, a gen-tly rounded dome that flattened out into downs dotted with trees and bushes.