"Well done, Yu'shaa," he said quietly. "The mult.i.tudes are heated to the point of boiling over. We couldn't have done this without you." He paused, then added: "And remember, Prefect: Just as all things are possible on Yuuzhan'tar today, all things will be possible tomorrow."

FOURTEEN.

As had become her ritual since returning from the convoy ambush, Jaina would search out the officer of the watch every four hours to learn if the Falcon had been heard from; then she would spend the next hour or so at one of Ralroost's observation viewports, gazing at the incoming traffic and stretching out with the Force, in the hope that one of the moving lights might return her touch, or convey some hint of familiarity.

She was about to abandon the effort that afternoon when a swiftly moving ship caught her eye. If there was a s.p.a.ceborne equivalent of a swoop, Jaina figured she was looking at it. A cramped c.o.c.kpit anch.o.r.ed to incongruous ion fusion and hyperdrive engines, the small craft was inbound, and on a trajectory for Ralroost's primary docking bay. Jaina set off for the bay, hurrying down the attack cruiser's sterile pa.s.sageways and offering only the hastiest of answering salutes to pa.s.sing noncoms. By the time she had descended from the landing bay's service gantry, the craft's human pilot was on deck and taking off his scratched and dented helmet.

His hair was red and s.h.a.ggy, and his face was wildly freckled. Made up of garments borrowed from at least three separate units, his flight uniform was soiled and patched, and his boots were as mismatched as the engines of his ship. The blaster on his hip was even more ancient than Han's. When Jaina intercepted him on the landing ap.r.o.n, he offered a crisp salute.

"Where are you arriving from, Lieutenant?" she shouted above the din of warming engines, repair work, and launches.

"Caluula Orbital, Colonel." Noting Jaina's confusion, he added: "Tion Hegemony. I've a message from the commanding officer for Galactic Alliance command!"

Jaina moved closer to him.

"You're a courier?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I'll show you to Admiral Kre'fey's cabin."

Clearly, the offer puzzled him, but he thanked her out of respect.

"That's really not necessary-"

"I insist." Jaina motioned to the pa.s.sageway hatch and fell into step beside him. "When did you leave Caluula?" she asked when they could finally speak without shouting.

"Two days ago, local. No hostile contacts along the way. But my ship had some drive problems."

"Did any ships land at Caluula before you launched?"

"Ships?"

"A banged-up YT-thirteen-hundred freighter, in particular?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"I'd've remembered a YT-thirteen-hundred, sir."

"What's the situation at Caluula?"

The lieutenant glanced around.

"I don't know that I'm at liberty-" he began, then shrugged.

"What's it matter, right? Commanding Officer Garray wants the admiral to be advised that unless we can be reinforced and reprovisioned, we're likely to fall to the Yuuzhan Vong."

Jaina felt her pulse quicken.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

He stopped abruptly.

"If it's all right with you, I'll go the rest of the way on my own.

The sooner I deliver the message, the sooner I can get back to Caluula."

Jaina nodded.

"May the Force be with you, Lieutenant."

"Same with you."

Jaina watched him rush off. For the first time in a long while she felt isolated and fearful. Still no word from Jacen, Luke, or Mara, and now her father and mother were missing, possibly marooned in some remote star system. When she tried to reinforce the sense that they were all right, dreadful images whirled in her mind. And when she called to Leia through the Force, she received no response. She began to understand how her parents must have felt when their children had embarked on the mission to Myrkr.

Anakin killed, Jacen missing, Jaina fleeing for the Hapes Consortium in a pirated Yuuzhan Vong vessel... It was difficult enough being a teenager and worrying about your parents' safety. But being a parent and worrying about your kids had to be even worse. As Han had said on Anakin's death: A father isn't supposed to outlive his children.

Jaina's thoughts turned briefly to her uncle Luke and aunt Mara. They had left their infant son, Ben, in the care of Kam and Tionne, at the hidden Maw Installation. But they had to be wondering, worrying...

Sometimes even the Force couldn't protect a person from imagined fears. Jaina pondered if she would ever be able to raise a family; to cope day to day with the concern that her child would fall victim to illness or accident, make a wrong choice, or be in the wrong place at the wrong time..

Dizzy at the thought, she leaned against the cold bulkhead. She heard someone call her by name, and turned to see Jag hastening to her.

Tall and wiry, with a shock of white in his black hair, he was the son of Soontir Fel and Syal Antilles, both of whom had elected to remain in Chiss s.p.a.ce. Like his Chiss confederates in Vanguard Squadron, Jag wore a black uniform with red piping.

"Are you all right?" he asked with uncommon alarm. "Did something happen?"

They held each other for a moment before Jaina straightened.

"I'm fine. No, actually, I'm not fine. I'm scared to death."

Jag's green eyes searched her face.

"Of what?"

She shook her head in uncertainty.

"Possibilities."

He took her right hand in his.

"No message from your parents."

"Nothing. And no word of Jacen."

Jag firmed his lips.

"I'm certain that all of them are fine."

She frowned slightly.

"How are you certain? Or is that just something people say when they don't know what else to say?"

Jag blinked.

"I... well, perhaps it's something of both. Do I know for a fact that Jacen and your parents are all right? No. Does my heart tell me that they're all right? It seems to."

Jaina smiled without mirth.

"No medicine like logic, is there?"

Jag's fine eyebrows beetled. A scar ran from his right brow almost to his hairline.

"I-".

"No, you're right. I'm driving myself mad. Thanks."

He studied her.

"What does the Force tell you?"

"Let's just say that the Force isn't painting as cheerful a picture as the one you just did."

Jag's expression grew skeptical.

"You could be mistaken."

"You mean, the Force might be throwing me a curve?" She shook her head. "It doesn't work that way."

"How does it work?" he asked stiffly. "Is it so different from intuition? Is there a stronger link between you and your parents than between me and my parents, simply because of the Force?"

Jaina shut her eyes.

"Jag, please. This isn't a good time to be arguing."

He started to say something, then stopped and began again.

"Perhaps we can talk heart to heart when the war ends."

"Jag, I'm sorry. I'm just preoccupied."

"No, really. Besides, I'm slated to report to General Bel Iblis.

I'll look for you later."

As he started away, she almost went after him, but thought better of it. What was happening? Was Jag drifting away from her, as well? Was she drifting away from him? Or was her relationship with him going to turn out to be another of the war's odd pairings; another reversal born of desperation? In either case, it certainly had been an unexpected development. Since events in the Hapes Consortium they had been growing more... familiar, with each brief encounter.

They had seemed to be falling in love. Danni Quee had told her that one shouldn't be too a.n.a.lytical about love-that rational thinking was the quickest way to rout affection. But Danni-a scientist who did little else but a.n.a.lyze-was no one to talk. And how could someone not wonder about wartime romance? Because they so often emerged out of a desire to live to the fullest, wartime affairs were notorious for being as short-lived as explosions in deep s.p.a.ce.

People tended to skip all the usual stuff and fly straight to the heat. But how could you trust your emotions at a time when any day might be the last-for yourself, your family and friends, your comrades? What might have happened had she and Jag gotten to know each other in peaceful times? What would have accounted for their shared experiences: holopresentations, picnics, getaways on tourist worlds?

She shook her head. Maybe she was being too hard on them. Take her parents, for instance. They had met, fallen in love, and married during the worst of times, and everything had worked out great for them. So it could work. But was she trying to emulate them in some way-"Hey, soldier."

Kyp Durron pa.s.sed her on the outside and put his arm around her shoulders. Fit, sharp-featured, and dark-haired, he had surrendered the scowl that for years had been his signature expression. Reflexively, Jaina curled her arm around his waist and leaned against his chest-the chest of a man she had once slapped across the face, but who had later become a kind of mentor to her, especially in helping her navigate the emotional storm that had attended Jacen's unexpected return from Yuuzhan Vong-held Coruscant a year earlier. Kyp brought them to an abrupt halt and turned slightly to gaze at her.

"If it's any consolation, kid, I'm worried, too."

Jaina smiled and laughed shortly.

"I don't have to say a thing, do I?"

Kyp shook his head and brushed his hair away from his eyes.

"Everything tells me that Jacen is okay. But your parents are in trouble. They've been getting into too many tight situations lately, and now they're really in the thick of it."

Jaina felt stronger for Kyp's having articulated her fears. For a short time she had thought she could fall in love with Kyp, but those feelings had pa.s.sed, and ever since then they had settled into a close and comforting friendship.

"I was just talking with a courier who arrived from a station in the Tion Hegemony," she said in a rush. "I don't know why, but I think they're there."

Kyp considered it.

"If they are, then I guess I'm wrong about them squaring off against the Yuuzhan Vong."

Jaina shook her head.

"That's just it, Kyp. Caluula Orbital is under heavy siege. From what the courier said, I think the station might already have been overrun. If I knew for sure, I'd leave right now."

Kyp took her hand.

"Let me know if you need a wingmate."

Han's blasterbolt caught the Yuuzhan Vong in his unprotected armpit, twirling him fully around and sending him plummeting from the shoulders of two warriors who had been providing unintentional support.

With the immediate threat eliminated, the faceless rocket man raised his left arm and fired a small grappling hook from his forearm gauntlet. The hook found purchase on an expansion girder, instantly towing him to the ceiling of the hold, out over the extended arms of swarming warriors and through flights of blunt amphistaffs. Clambering into a crouch on the girder, he gazed down on his would-be captors, then armed his backpack missile launcher.

"He's... he's going to fire!"

One step ahead of C-3PO, Han and Leia each grabbed one of the droid's arms and yanked him down to the deck. The projectile exploded in the center of the hold, flattening everyone within a radius of ten meters. Fifty or more stunned or dying Yuuzhan Vong warriors formed the circ.u.mference of the detonation zone.