FIFTEEN

The AWOL Jedi stood waiting in front of their makeshift squadron, a small eye of calm in a frenetic storm of insect activity. The Knights were still wearing their rumpled flight suits, staring at the Shadow and Falcon as they landed. Tesar and Zekk had the good grace to wear guilty expressions as well, but Jaina and Alema merely looked defiant. Jacen and Tahiri betrayed no emotion at all.

Mara took her time closing down the ship’s systems, allowing their suspense to build—and giving herself a few moments to search the cavernous hangar for any hint of danger in the Force. There was no chance that Jaina or any of the others had been involved in the assault on the Shadow, but someone had attacked her family—and that someone had certainly looked like Killiks. Unlike Luke, she was utterly convinced that Raynar Thul would do anything he thought necessary to keep Jaina and the others in the Colony—even if that meant ambushing his old friends.

Finally, when she could not find even a hint of danger, Mara joined the others in the Shadow’s main cabin. Despite a twenty-minute rest trance, Luke still looked like an escapee from a spice mine, with sallow skin and red-rimmed eyes. Ben was bright-eyed and eager to meet his cousins. He kept looking from his father to the door.

Mara took his hand from Nanna. “Ben, you understand that we have important business with Jaina and the others, don’t you?”

“I’m not a Gamorrean, Mom,” he said. “I know we wouldn’t come all the way out here if it was unimportant business.”

“Good. You can say hello to your cousins, but then Nanna will take you to stay with Cakhmaim and Meewalh on the Falcon.” She looked to Nanna. “Ask them to lock down the ship—I don’t care if it does offend the Killiks.”

“I was about to suggest the same thing myself,” Nanna replied.

Mara nodded, then opened the boarding hatch to the cloying, fuel-laced mugginess of the big hangar. Ben was off like a blaster bolt, racing down the stairs and throwing himself into Jaina’s arms. She laughed and gave him a warm hug.

“Nice to see you, too, Ben,” Jaina said. She stepped back and ran an appraising eye over him. “You’ve grown.”

“It’s been a whole year.” He smiled mischievously, then added, “Boy, are you guys in trouble!”

Mara, who was still only halfway down the stairs, cringed inwardly, but Jaina only smiled.

“I imagine we are.”

“Well, I hope they don’t take away your lightsaber or anything.”

This caused Jaina’s eyes to flash, but Ben didn’t seem to notice. He turned to Jacen, who had matured into a handsome man with a thick beard and brooding brown eyes, and seemed unable to decide what he should do next.

Jacen smiled and extended his hand. “Hello, Ben. I’m your cousin Jacen.”

“I know you.” Ben took the hand and shook it. “You went away when I was two. Did you find it?”

The question puzzled Jacen less than it did Mara. “Some of it,” Jacen answered.

Ben’s face fell. “So you’re going back?”

“No.” Jacen’s tone changed to that of a person addressing an equal. “What I haven’t found, I doubt I ever will.”

Ben nodded sagely, then glanced toward the Falcon, only now lowering her boarding ramp. “I have to go, but we can talk later.”

“Yes,” Jacen said. “I’ll look forward to that.”

Ben took Nanna’s hand and started toward the Falcon, leaving nothing but an awkward silence between Mara and the AWOL Jedi. Though Luke was the informal leader of the Jedi Order, they had decided that she would be the one to confront them and put them on the defensive. That would leave Luke free to assume the role of judge, mentor, or friend—whatever was needed.

Mara stopped a few steps away and studied the young Jedi Knights in silence, meeting each of their unblinking gazes in turn, trying to gauge their moods but finding only the unreadable durasteel of veteran killers. She did not recall when they had grown so hard. The Yuuzhan Vong had come, and it seemed to Mara that they had gone almost overnight from being teenage Jedi-in-training to seasoned warriors. After what they had seen in battle—after what they had done—it seemed ludicrous to think of them being “in trouble.”

Jaina tolerated the scrutiny for only a few seconds, then stepped forward to give Mara a tentative hug. “This is a surprise.”

“I’m sure,” Leia said, arriving from the Falcon with Han, C-3PO, and Saba. “Raynar didn’t make it easy for us to find you.”

The glance of silent thanks that Leia flashed to Jacen did not go unnoticed by Jaina or the others, but Mara saw no sign that anyone seemed upset by it.

“Raynar is afraid you’ll try to take us back.” Tahiri Veila said. Over the last five years, she had matured into a sinewy blond woman—so much so that Mara might not have recognized her, if not for her bare feet and the three vertical scars the Yuuzhan Vong had left on her forehead. “And isn’t that why you’ve come?”

“It’s good to see you, too, kid,” Han taunted. “What do you say we let Luke answer that and just say hello?”

Tahiri’s face melted into an expression of joy and chagrin. “Sorry—we were kind of in the middle of something.” She opened her arms and went to Han, giving him a big, Wookiee-style hug. “It is good to see you, Han.”

When she started rubbing her arms across his back, Han shuddered and looked vaguely nauseated. Tahiri released him with a grin and embraced Leia as well, and the awkwardness finally faded between the two generations of Jedi. Han and Leia hugged Jacen and Jaina long and hard, fondly telling them both they had a lot of explaining to do and making them promise to do so later aboard the Falcon. Then the group exchanged greetings all around, and when they were done, Jaina quickly seized the initiative again.

“So what are you doing here? Without us, I didn’t think the council would have any Jedi to…”

The sentence trailed off as her eyes drifted back to Luke’s weary face, and her expression changed to one of dismay and fear.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you sick?”

“I’m fine—just a little worn,” Luke said. “We came to, um, talk about what’s going on here.”

Jaina’s relief was obvious—as was that of her companions. Only Jacen’s expression did not change—and he had seemed unconcerned in the first place. He had been gone five years, and still he seemed less surprised than anyone by Luke’s temporary appearance.

Though Mara was being careful not to stare, Jacen gave her a small smile, letting her know that he had sensed her scrutiny. There was nothing menacing in the gesture, but it sent a cold prickle down her spine. As Palpatine’s assassin, her life had often depended on her ability to hide her thoughts—both physically and in the Force. Yet Jacen had sensed her attention casually, the way he might have caught a young woman studying him from afar.

Mara pretended not to notice and kept her gaze riveted on Jaina. “You’ve let down the entire order,” she said, deliberately forcing the younger Jedi to try to excuse their actions. “Losing one of you would have been bad enough, but there’s no way we could fill the holes left by all five of you.”

As Mara had expected, Jaina would not be intimidated. “Then how could the order spare four Jedi to come ‘talk’to us?”

“The council felt the situation warranted it,” Luke said. “And now the order is short nine Jedi.”

“Situation, Master Skywalker?” Tesar rasped. “Has something happened?”

“You first,” Mara demanded. This was not the way the council normally dealt with its Jedi Knights, but she did not want this group taking advantage of Luke’s patience—or his regret over the outcome of the Myrkr mission. “What, exactly, are you doing here?”

Jaina and the others shared a moment of silent communion, then, to everyone’s surprise, Alema Rar stepped forward.

“We’re trying to prevent a war,” she said. “Isn’t that what Jedi are supposed to do?”

Luke would not be baited into making this a discussion. “Go on.”

Zekk spoke next. “You know about the call we’d all been feeling…”

Luke nodded.

And Tahiri continued, “It wasn’t something we could ignore, especially at the last.”

“We had to come,” Tesar rasped. He looked to his mother. “It was like the Mating Call. We could think of nothing else until it was answered.”

They stopped, as if that had answered the question.

“That explains why you came,” Leia said. “It doesn’t explain what you’re doing.”

A chest-high Killik with a green thorax and tiny wings came over and brushed Jaina’s arm with an antenna, then thrummed something with its chest.

“She says the StealthXs are fed and rested,” C-3PO translated proudly.

“Fueled and armed,” Jaina corrected. She ran her arm down the Killik’s antenna, then said to it, “Thanks. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

“Lowie had to go EV,” Zekk explained. “We’re getting ready to bring him back.”

“With shadow bombs?” Mara asked. She pointed to a rack of proton torpedoes being dragged away from the StealthXs by several Killiks. Even from ten meters away, it was apparent that the propellant charges had been replaced with packed baradium. “That’s not exactly rescue equipment.”

“We might need to create a little diversion,” Alema admitted.

“No kidding?” Han scoffed. “You mean to get past all those Chiss?”

“Nobody’s going anywhere.” Mara directed this to Jaina. “Not until we have some answers. Things are too far out of control.”

Jaina’s face grew hard. “I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving Lowie out there another minute—”

“Lowbacca has dropped into a Force-hibernation,” Luke interrupted. His eyes were half closed, his chin raised. “He’s safe for now.”

Jaina scowled and looked as though she wanted to argue, but she knew better than to doubt her uncle’s word.

“The sooner we get those answers, kid, the sooner we get to Lowbacca,” Han said.

Jaina and the others exchanged a few tense looks, then she nodded. “Fine. You want to see what this is about, come with us.”

She led the way deeper into the hangar cavern, past rack after rack of dartship berths. Stacked a staggering fifteen berths high, they were strewn with fueling lines and swarming with Killik technicians. Their technology was unsophisticated, but the insects were incredibly efficient, working a dozen at a time in cramped spaces that would have had just two human technicians throwing hydrospanners at each other. The fuel-tinged air was permeated by a low, rhythmic rumble that sounded like machinery, but Mara soon realized it was coming from the creatures themselves.

She turned to Tahiri, who was walking beside her, and asked, “That sound…are they singing?”

It was Alema—walking at Luke’s side—who answered. “It’s more like humming.”

“They do it when they concentrate,” Tesar added. “The harder they work, the louder it growz.”

“It’s their part in the Song of the Universe,” Tahiri explained.

“Doesn’t sound like any song I’ve ever heard,” Han said from a step ahead of Mara. “In fact, I’ve heard more rhythm in a bantha stampede.”

“That’s because you can’t hear the whole song,” Zekk explained helpfully. “Only insect species hear it all.”

“Yeah?” Han scowled and turned to Jacen. “Can you hear it?”

“No.” Jacen flashed an imitation of Han’s roguish smile. “Then again, I’ve only been here about a month.”

“Relax, Dad,” Jaina called from the front of the group. “We don’t hear it, either.”

Han let out an audible sigh of relief, then Jaina suddenly stepped into an empty berth and ducked down a waxy passage that led out the back.

C-3PO stopped outside the berth. “That doesn’t look like a proper corridor, Mistress Jaina.”

“You could always stay here, Threepio,” Han said, watching six Killik workers carry a damaged dartship past. “I’ll bet these guys are always looking for spare parts.”

“I was just commenting, Captain Solo.”

C-3PO dropped into an awkward crouch that was half squat and half hunch, and they all followed Jaina into the passage.

“Sorry about this,” Zekk said from behind Mara. “They weren’t thinking of larger species when they dug these tunnels.”

“No problem. We’re not that old.” Mara was bent over nearly double, so Zekk had to be crawling on all fours. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said. “We’re almost there.”

The Force ahead grew heavy with pain and fear, and the humid air began to smell of blood, burns, and bacta. A moment later, they emerged into a large oblong chamber lined by hundreds of hexagonal wall bunks. In the open areas of the room, hand-sized Killik healers were swarming over casualties from both sides, spitting antiseptic saliva into their wounds, spinning silk sealant into cracked chitin, slipping tiny pincers into torso punctures to pull shrapnel from internal organs. Low purrs of gratitude reverberated from the chest plates of the insect patients, but the Chiss—those who were still conscious—were staring at the creatures in horror.

As the rest of the group stepped into the chamber behind Mara, a green triage nurse rushed over and brushed its antennae across Jaina’s arm, then looked at Luke and thrummed a question.

“Oh, dear,” C-3PO said. “She doesn’t seem to know what’s wrong with Master Luke!”

“Nothing’s wrong with him, Taat,” Jaina said to the insect. “We’re all fine. We just wanted to see the infirmary.”

The triage nurse stepped closer to Luke and scrutinized him with its bulbous gaze, then clicked its mandibles doubtfully.

“I’m sure.” Jaina glanced at Mara. “Right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mara said. Even had there been something wrong with him, she would not have trusted the insects to fix it—not after what had become of Raynar.

“I’m just a little burned out,” Luke assured the Killik.

The nurse spread its antennae in doubt, then scurried off to hold down a screaming Chiss. The patient did not seem pleased to have three Killik healers rummaging around inside his torso.

“They are not being cruel,” Tesar said. “But the Taat are very stoic. They don’t use anesthesia themselvez.”

“And when they have it available for other species, they never get the dosage right,” Jaina added. “They’ve decided that it’s just faster and safer to do without.”

“I’ll bet,” Han said, eyeing the carnage. “Because it kind of looks like they’re enjoying it.”

“They’re not,” Zekk assured him. “The Kind are the most gentle and forgiving species I’ve ever met.”

“They have no malice,” Alema added. She pointed to a nearby bunk, where a trio of Killik nurses clung to the wall, hovering over a half-conscious Chiss, holding a casted leg in traction. “Once the fighting’s over, they care for their attackers as their own. They don’t even imprison them.”

“I can’t imagine that works very well with Chiss,” Leia said. “What happens when the prisoners attack?”

“Their escortz bring them here for evaluation,” Tesar rasped. “They think other speciez are aggressive only because they can’t stomach pain. So they look for the source of the pain…”

“Eventually, the Chiss figure it out and stop attacking,” Tahiri said.

“Yeah, well, a little bug-probing would stop me,” Han said. His gaze was fixed on a Killik healer, whose four limbs were straddling a Chiss face as it extracted something from the patient’s red eyeball. “At least until I could escape this creep show.”

“Dad, the Chiss don’t need to escape,” Jaina said. “They’re free to leave whenever they like, if they can find a way.”

Han nodded knowingly. “There’s always a catch.”

“Always,” Alema agreed.

“But it’s not what you think,” Zekk added.

“The Chisz won’t take back their MIAz,” Tesar finished.

“I’m sure,” Mara said. The young Jedi Knights’ habit of talking fast and completing each other’s thoughts was beginning to make her edgy. It was almost as if they were sinking into a permanent battle-meld. “I can’t imagine the Chiss are much for prisoner exchanges.”

“Oh, we’re not talking about exchanges,” Jaina said.

“The Chiss won’t take them back at all,” Tahiri explained.

“Before we got here, they used to steal transports and try to go back on their own,” Alema said. “The Chiss just turned them away.”

“How awful for them,” C-3PO said sympathetically. “What happens to prisoners now?”

“A few hitch rides out, then who knows what happens to them,” Jaina said. “Most end up staying with the nest.”

Alarm bells began to ring inside Mara’s head. She glanced toward the heart of the chamber, where Tekli and several Chiss medics had set up a makeshift surgical theater beneath the jewel-blue glow of a dozen shine-balls, then looked back to Jaina.

“Doesn’t that worry you?” Mara asked.

“No,” Zekk said, frowning. “Why should it?”

“Because they’re Joiners,” Han said. “They don’t have their own minds.”

“Actually, they have two minds,” Jacen said, speaking for the first time since entering the infirmary. “They still have their own mind, but they share the nest mind as well.”

Han grimaced, but Mara was relieved. At least Jacen still sounded as though he were considering matters from outside the Killik perspective. Maybe his odyssey had given him an extra resistance to the Killik influence…or maybe he had just arrived later than the others. Either way, it made him an asset when dealing with the rest of the strike team.

After a moment, Han said, “You’d better not be trying to tell me this is a good thing.”

“It’s not a good thing or a bad thing, Dad,” Jacen replied. “It just is. What disturbs you is that the Will of the nest mind is more powerful than the will of the individual mind. They appear to lose their independence.”

“Yeah.” Han’s eyes flashed to Jaina and the other young Knights. “That disturbs me. A lot.”

“And it would certainly disturb the Chiss,” Leia said. “They would feel very threatened by anything that limits their self-determination.”

“That doesn’t justify speciecide,” Jaina countered.

“Speciecide is a harsh accusation,” Luke said. The calmness of his voice, and the fact that he had been even more quiet than Jacen so far, commanded the attention of the entire group. “It doesn’t sound like the Chiss. They have very strict laws regarding aggression—especially outside their own borders.”

“You don’t know the Chiss.” Alema’s voice was full of bitterness. “They keep Kind prisoners in isolation cells in a free-drifting prison ship and starve them to death.”

“How can you know that?” Leia asked. “I can’t see the Chiss letting anyone inspect their prisons.”

“A Chiss Joiner revealed it,” Jacen explained.

“The prison ships I believe,” Mara said. “But I can’t see the Chiss starving any prisoner. Their conduct codes wouldn’t bend that far.”

“The starvation is incidental,” Jacen said. “The Chiss are trying to feed their prisoners.”

“It can’t be that hard to figure out what bugs eat,” Han said.

“Not what, Dad—how,” Jacen said. Motioning the group after him, he started toward the infirmary’s main entrance. “Come on. This whole problem will make more sense if I just show you.”

Jacen led the group into a huge, wax-lined corridor bustling with Killik workers. Most were bearing large loads—beautiful jewel-blue shine-balls, multicolored spheres of wax, wretchedly small sheafs of half-rotten marr stalks. But some carried only a single small stone, usually quite smooth and brightly colored, and these insects moved slowly, searching for the perfect place to affix their treasure amid the scattered groupings on the walls.

“So this is how they make the mosaics,” Leia commented.

“One pebble at a time,” Jaina said. “Whenever one of the Killiks comes across a pretty stone, she stops whatever she’s doing and rushes back to the nest to find the perfect place. It can take days.”

Mara was surprised to hear a tone of awe in her niece’s voice; normally, Jaina was too preoccupied with tactics or readiness drilling to even notice art.

“She?” Leia asked. “The males don’t contribute to the mosaics?”

“There aren’t many males,” Zekk explained.

“And males only leave their nest when it’s time to establish a new one,” Alema added.

The corridor branched, then ended a short time later at the brink of a huge, sweet-smelling pit so dimly lit that Han would have plunged over the edge had Jaina not caught him with the Force and pulled him back. Mara and the other Jedi had more warning. The Force inside the chamber ached with a hunger so fierce that they instinctively hesitated at the entrance.

“This is the busiest place in the nest,” Jacen said over the din of clacking mandibles and drumming chests. “The grub cave.”

As Mara’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw that the chamber was swarming with Killiks, all carefully crawling over an expanse of hexagonal cells. Half the cells were empty, a handful were sealed beneath a waxy cover, and the rest contained the thick, squirming bodies of Killik larvae.

Each larva was being attended by an adult, who was either carefully cleaning its head capsule or feeding it small pieces of shredded food. As the group watched, a nearby larva ejected a brown, sweet-smelling syrup. The adult grooming it unfurled a long, tongue-like proboscis and quickly sucked up the fluid, then burped and turned to leave the chamber. A new Killik quickly took its place.

“Blast!” Han sounded as though he might imitate the larva. “Don’t tell me that was dinner.”

“It’s not that unusual,” Jacen said. He guided them to one side of the entrance, so they would not impede the constant flow of Killiks entering and leaving the nursery. “There are bees and wasps across the entire galaxy that feed this way. It produces a very stable social structure.”

Han turned to Leia. “Didn’t I tell you this would happen? We let him have too many weird pets when he was a kid.”

“But it does explain why the Chiss captives are starving,” Mara surmised, ignoring Han’s joke. “Without larvae, the prisoners can’t eat.”

“You make it sound like an accident, and it’s not.” Zekk’s voice was sharp with outrage. “The Chiss are trying to starve all of the Qoribu nests into leaving.”

“But they can’t leave.” Alema’s voice was bitter. “Even if they had someplace to go, each nest would need a vessel the size of a Star Destroyer, and it would take months to prepare. They’d have to build a whole new nest inside the ship.”

“That’s not the answer, anyway,” Jaina said. “This isn’t Chiss space. The Killiks are innocent victims here.”

“Victims, possibly,” Mara said. She was growing alarmed by the wholehearted naïveté with which her niece and the others appeared to be embracing the Killik cause. “But hardly innocent.”

Jaina’s eyes flashed at the challenge, but her voice remained steady. “You don’t know the situation. This system—”

“I know that on the way in here, the Shadow was jumped by Killiks,” Mara said.

“The trouble you had on the way in?” Jacen asked. “I’ve been wondering about that.”

“So have we,” Han said dryly.

“And you think it was Killikz?” Tesar asked.

“We know what a dartship lookz like,” Saba said. “But these were better than the craft that met us at Lizil. These were powered by hydrogen rocketz.”

“Hydrogen?” Zekk echoed. “That can’t be right.”

He exchanged a confused glance with the others, then Jaina explained, “We’ve been trying to get them to convert to hydrogen rockets, but they produce the methane themselves.”

“What are you saying?” Leia demanded. “That those weren’t Killik dartships attacking the Shadow? Or that we’re making this up?”

The young Jedi Knights all looked uncomfortable, then Tahiri finally said, “We’re saying none of this makes sense. The Kind wouldn’t attack you, you wouldn’t lie, none of the Kind nests have hydrogen rockets—”

“And those blast craters in my hull armor didn’t get there by themselves,” Mara finished. She kept her gaze fixed on Jaina. “Do you think maybe you’re wrong about these insects?”

Jaina met her gaze squarely. “That’s just not possible.” She motioned a passing Killik over, then asked, “Our friends were attacked by a swarm of flying hydrogen rockets. Are any of the nests—”

An earnest thumping began to resonate from the Killik’s chest.

“She claims it was the Chiss, pretending to be Kind,” C-3PO translated. “They’re trying to make the Protectors leave.”

“It wasn’t Chiss,” Mara said. “I could see the pilots. They were insects.”

The Killik drummed a reply, and C-3PO translated, “There are a lot of space-faring insects in the galaxy. The Chiss could have hired some.”

“Not very likely,” Leia said. “The Chiss are arrogant…elitist.”

“These were Killiks,” Luke agreed. “We’re not mistaken.”

A series of sharp booms reverberated from the Killik’s chest.

“She asks if there’s anything you will believe?” C-3PO translated.

“The truth,” Mara answered.

The Killik rumbled a short reply, then dropped to all sixes and started down the corridor at a trot.

“She said she doesn’t know the truth,” C-3PO said. “And she sees no reason to think of one, since you won’t believe it anyway.”

Luke turned to Jaina. “We’ve seen enough. Take us back to the hangar.”

“Not yet,” Jaina said. “You still don’t understand—”

“We understand all we need to.” Luke glanced at Mara and Saba, silently asking if the council’s representatives had reached a consensus. When they both nodded, he took a step back so he could address all of the AWOL Jedi. “The situation here is as confused as it is volatile, and your team has lost the neutrality required of Jedi Knights. The Masters ask for your return to Coruscant.”

Mara cringed inwardly. Like Kyp, Corran, and several other Masters, she believed the Jedi Order should command the obedience of its Jedi Knights, rather than “ask” for it. Luke preferred to allow the Jedi Knights their independence, saying that if the Jedi Order could not trust the good judgment of its members, then the Masters were failing at their most important job. Being first among equals, Luke’s opinion held sway.

Jaina was quick to seize on the opening, of course. “Is it our neutrality the council is worried about—or the Galactic Alliance’s relationship with the Chiss?”

“At the moment, it’s you we’re worried about.” Luke’s voice was as warm as it was firm. “Any Jedi should recognize the importance of maintaining good relations with the Chiss. The sectors they patrol for us along the border are the only ones free of piracy and smuggling.”

“The Jedi are not servants of the Galactic Alliance,” Alema countered.

“No, we aren’t,” Luke agreed.

As he spoke, Killiks were beginning to gather in the corridor, clambering up onto the walls and ceiling. Mara did not sense anything threatening in the Force—it was closer to grim concern, if she was reading the insects’ emotions correctly—but she reached out to Saba and Leia, subtly suggesting they move to a more defensible position.

“But a peaceful Galactic Alliance is the strongest pillar of a peaceful galaxy,” Luke continued. “And the Jedi do serve peace. If the Reconstruction fails and the Galactic Alliance sinks into anarchy, so does the galaxy. The Jedi will have failed.”

“What happened to defending the weak?” Zekk demanded. “To sacrificing for the poor?”

“Those are worthy virtues,” Luke said. “But they won’t stop the galaxy from sinking into chaos. They aren’t the duties of a Jedi Knight.”

“So we abandon the Killiks for the good of the rehab conglomerates snapping up our part of the galaxy?” Jaina asked. “Isn’t that how Pal—”

“Don’t say it!” Mara stepped toward her niece, drawing a rustle from the ceiling and walls as the Killik spectators shrank back. “It’s bad enough to desert your posts and make us come out here looking for you. Don’t you dare make that comparison. Some things I won’t tolerate even from you, Jaina Solo.”

Jaina’s eyes widened in shock. She stared at Mara for a long time, clicking softly in her throat, hovering between an apology and an angry retort that everyone present knew would open a rift between the two women that could never be closed again. To his credit, Luke did not intervene. He simply stood quietly, patiently waiting to see what decision Jaina would make.

Finally, Jaina’s face softened. “That was a thoughtless thing for me to say. I didn’t mean to suggest that Uncle Luke was anything like the Emperor.”

Mara decided to take that as an apology. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“And we’re not going to abandon the Killiks.” Luke glanced up as the Killiks thrummed their approval, then looked to the rest of the strike team. “But I’m worried about you—all of you.”

“You’ve lost your objectivity and you’ve taken sides,” Mara said, sensing what Luke wanted from her. “You’re openly fighting on the Killiks’ side—and that means you have no chance at all of solving the problem.”

“Frankly, you’re half Joiners now,” Luke said. “I think you should to return to Coruscant with us at once. All of you.”

The bitter scent of an alarm pheromone filled the air, and the corridor erupted into such a panicked din of drumming and clacking that Mara’s hand went automatically to her lightsaber—and so did the hands of Leia and Saba. The color drained from Han’s face, and he casually hooked his thumb in his belt above his blaster. But Luke’s hands continued to hang at his sides, and the only sign that he showed of hearing the tumult was the patience he displayed in waiting for it to die down.

When it was possible to hear again, he continued as though he had never been interrupted. “We saw what became of Raynar, and the order just can’t afford to lose any Jedi Knights right now.”

“What about the Killiks?” Tahiri asked. “Without us here, the Chiss will have a free rein to—”

“This one will stay,” Saba said. “Until Master Skywalker can arrange to speak with Aristocra Tswek, she will let the Chisz know the Jedi are still watching.”

“Alone?” Tesar asked.

Saba nodded. “Alone.”

Tesar grinned, then thumped his tail on the floor and bumped skulls with his mother. “Good hunting.”

Mara looked to Jaina. “And the rest of you?”

Jaina exhaled loudly, then looked from the floor to Leia. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Mother.”

“I’m not a Master.”

“I know,” Jaina said. “So what do you think?”

Leia’s brow rose, and she appeared almost as shocked as Mara felt. “You’re asking me what to do?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” Jaina said. “I know how you and Dad feel about the Galactic Alliance. You’re the only ones here who don’t have an agenda.”

“Oh, I have an agenda.” Leia smiled. “Your father and I did come all the way out here to make sure you and Jacen are safe.”

Jaina rolled her eyes. “Like that’s going to happen. Just tell me what you think.”

Leia didn’t even hesitate. “Jaina, I think you’re just making the situation here worse.”

“Worse?” Alema demanded. Her lekku were writhing. “What do you know? You’ve only been here—”

Jaina glanced at the Twi’lek out of the corner of her eye, and Alema fell silent.

“Thank you,” Leia said. “As I was saying, your presence is a provocation to the Chiss. They’re only going to press harder, and you’ll end up starting a war that might have been averted.”

“Averted?” Tahiri asked. “How?”

“I don’t know how—not yet,” Leia admitted. “But I can tell you how it won’t be averted: by destroying Chiss task forces. They’ll just start sending bigger flotillas.”

“They already have.”

Jaina turned to her fellows to discuss the matter—or so Mara thought. Instead, they merely looked at each other for a couple of seconds, then the Killiks suddenly let out a single disappointed boom and began to disperse. Tesar, Jacen, and Tahiri started up the corridor.

“We’ll go,” Tahiri said.

“So will Tekli,” Tesar added.

“That’s half,” Mara said, raising her brow to Jaina and the remaining two. “What about you three?”

“We four,” Jaina corrected. “You forgot to count Lowbacca.”