EPILOGUE

The night skies over Hapes’s royal city still bled and strobed as Jaina set the Trickster down on the docks. She looked up, feeling no regret at being forced out of the battle before its conclusion.

This was not her fight, her path. Teneniel Djo’s legacy had arrived, and under the command of Jag Fel it was swiftly pushing back the Yuuzhan Vong. Jaina had seen that much as she maneuvered the wounded Jedi Master aboard her ship.

She saw Kyp safely off the ship and arranged for medical treatment. Then she turned to face what she had become.

Ta’a Chume was in the palace, under house arrest pending investigation into Teneniel Djo’s death. She rose quickly as Jaina entered the room, and her eyes swept the girl’s flight suit.

“The battle?”

“We’re winning.”

“You should be commanding it.”

Jaina shrugged. “Colonel Fel is doing just fine. Queen Mother Tenel Ka knows how to pick people.”

Ta’a Chume received this news in silence. “With my help, you could have been a great queen.”

Jaina sniffed and folded her arms. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“What about your vows of vengeance?”

“I’m not adding you to the list, if that’s your concern. It’s over,” she stated. “All of it. I know what I am—a fighter, the sister and the daughter of heroes.”

Something changed in the former queen’s face. “I am seldom mistaken, but now I see that you are a fool, like your mother before you.”

She continued in this vein, and was ranting still when Jaina left the palace.

Tenel Ka awaited her outside the secured rooms. “They say that anger is of the dark side,” she said somberly. “ ‘They,’ of course, have never met Ta’a Chume.”

Jaina smiled faintly, and then noticed the tentative humor in her friend’s eyes. On impulse, she folded her friend in an embrace. Tenel Ka’s strong arm came up to encircle her.

“It won’t be easy,” the new queen said. “Not for me, not for you. I suspect that your road may be more difficult than mine. At least you will not be alone.”

Jaina pulled away. “Neither will you.”

Tenel Ka’s only response was a faint smile. She lifted her hand, a somber, regal gesture, and then walked away. Her bearing was proud and her step quick. Her determination came through the Force, and with it, a sense of desolation so intense that it brought tears to Jaina’s eyes.

Jaina swiftly pulled her emotions back under control. It was this very thing—her empathy for her friends and brothers—that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. The way she saw it, she had a long road back from what she’d become, and she couldn’t afford any detours.

And as she strode back to her ship, she considered the road ahead. She’d have to face all the friends who had warned her, the family who had worried. At every turn, people would question her. She would have to make people believe that the dark side had no part in her actions, her decisions. The most difficult person to convince, she suspected, would be herself.

Kyp Durron was already at the docks, loading supplies into a Hapan light freighter. A bacta patch covered his forehead.

“Never thought you’d get here,” he said. “It’s almost time to go.”

“Go?” Jaina echoed.

“We’re taking some supplies to the Jedi base. Your mother asked me to bring you.”

A pang touched Jaina’s heart as she thought of what news of her slide would do to Leia. “Mom already lost two of her kids.”

“I’ll get you back.”

She turned her eyes to Kyp’s somber green gaze. With great effort, she lowered the shields that had kept her locked away. Perhaps there was one person who could understand, one person she wouldn’t have to lock out.

After a moment, he tossed her a box of rations. She tucked it into the hold and turned for another. They worked together, falling into an easy rhythm. Soon the ship was loaded, and the Jedi Master and his apprentice strapped into their seats.

“So what’s next?” she asked as they settled down.

“What do you want to do?”

Jaina considered this. She had always been confident—impulsive, even cocky. That was tempered now by deep humility in the power of the Force. “I’ll keep flying, of course, but I’m not sure the Rogues will have me.”

“Then why not continue the path you’ve started? There’s a place for a trickster in the resistance. You’re quick with a plan, you have a knack for strategy.”

She tried the idea on, and the fit felt about right. “Not bad,” she admitted. “And you?”

Kyp gave her a slightly sheepish smile. “I’m going to work toward the establishment of a Jedi Council, to building consensus instead of discord.”

She burst out laughing. “I’ve seen my mother struggle with such things. Trust me, this might prove to be your biggest challenge yet!”

He shrugged. “Neither of us need things to be easy. And on that note, I hear that Jag Fel has arranged a meeting with your uncle Luke. If there’s a Jedi offensive on the horizon, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’s at the heart of it.”

A quick, glad surge lifted Jaina’s heart. Wistfully, she wondered if someday she could merit the friendship of someone like Jag, someone whose gaze, like Leia’s, never seemed to swerve from a hero’s path.

If Kyp picked up on Jaina’s thoughts, he was tactful enough not to let on. “You ready?”

She responded with a firm nod, and then turned her eyes to the challenges ahead.

   Khalee Lah strode into Harrar’s chamber and dropped to one knee.

“The battle was a failure,” he said bluntly. “The Jeedai escaped. It would seem that I was infected with the heresy, or the gods would have allowed me to die in glorious battle. My failure can only serve to tarnish my domain. The name of the warmaster, whom you name friend.”

The priest absorbed this in silence. This request went far past hinting. In response, he reached for the mechanical abomination and handed it to the warrior.

“I will report to Tsavong Lah that his kinsman died in battle, through the trickery of the Jeedai, sacrificed by his own men. Put this upon your ship, and it will be so.”

Khalee Lah bowed his head and accepted the device. He rose and strode from the room.

Left alone, Harrar took his villip and reported to Tsavong Lah what he had promised to say. “Jaina Solo proved to be a far more worthy foe than anticipated,” he concluded, “and it may be some time before the twin sacrifice can go forward.”

“The gods willed it so,” Tsavong Lah said. “Continue pursuit, and we will speak of this matter again.”

The villip inverted abruptly, leaving Harrar deep in speculation. His failure was not dealt with as harshly as he expected, and the priest of deception wondered if perhaps he was not the only one who had failed.

Was it possible, he wondered, that Jacen Solo might not have survived, after all?