"Hey," Thaymes Fodrick said as he crouched over the secondary communications console, "I've thought of a new name."

Sharr Latt, flat on his back with his legs sticking out from beneath the bulk of said console, heaved a long sigh. When he was done, a second passed. Then he asked, "What name?"

Thaymes held up two hands dramatically, then said, "Everything Squadron!"

Jesmin Tainer couldn't see Sharr's face from where she was, sitting on a crate in the far corner of the comm room, but Thaymes couldn't see it either, and his face was frozen in a state of expectancy.

Finally, Sharr asked, "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Not at all," Thaymes insisted as he lowered his hands. "Because really, we do everything around here. Little bit of combat, little bit of recon, little bit of fixing comm systems 'cause we're apparently the only people in the whole fleet who know how..."

"It's not that, Thaymes," Jesmin said tiredly, "Our only direct link to Director Loran is a very tight-beam, encrypted signal. We don't want anyone else having access to it."

"I know, I know," Thaymes sighed and paced back and forth in front of Sharr's feet. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

"So it was a joke," Sharr muttered. "I couldn't tell..."

"Okay, sorry. I'll try to be funnier next time. Somebody's got to the funny one. I've heard the stories. Someone has to be the next Wes Janson."

Sharr scooted out from underneath the console and sat up. "Thaymes, I've met Wes Janson. Wes Janson is a friend of mine. You, sir, are no Wes Janson."

Thaymes groaned and Jesmin smiled a little. She hadn't smiled much lately and it felt strange on her. After losing Myri, the air of good humor and camaraderie within Wraith Squadron (or whatever they were calling themselves) felt forced.

Myri had been more than an energetic, optimistic presence; more even than a longtime family friend. Myri had been a sense of comfort and continuity in a life that, for Jesmin, had been packed with too many sudden changes. First Jedi Trainee (drop-out), then Antarian Ranger (quit), then bounty hunter (heart wasn't in it), and now finally a member of Everything Squadron, or whatever they were. She'd done a bit of everything and somehow being with Myri again had made her feel like she belonged, in a way she hadn't at any of those other jobs.

Now Myri was gone, and Jesmin didn't know what she was going with the Wraiths. She still liked the people well enough... but she wished they'd go away.

"Hey, Ranger," Sharr said as he awkwardly shoved off the ground and on to his feet, "Can you turn the power back on?"

"Sure," Jesmin said and got to her feet, not too quickly. She went over to the electric box on the wall and flipped the breaker. The lights on the communications console flickered, then went dim.

"I thought you fixed it," Thaymes looked at Sharr.

"I thought this was supposed to be a new ship," Sharr scowled. "Top-of-the-line equipment, Face said. I tell you, if everything else on Starless is this quality-" he smacked the console and suddenly the lights came back on. Sharr jumped back, surprised.

"It' not gonna bit," Thaymes smiled and peered at the console. "And oh boy, look here, we've got a message! Make way. I need to plug in the right decryption code."

"Go ahead," Sharr stepped aside. They had two backup files containing the decryption code- one stored in Starless's memory bank, the other kept on a data-disc held by the squadron commander, Voort. Thaymes, however, was the Wraith's encrypt/decrypt expert, and he had a memory well worth his lame attempts at humor.

It only took Thaymes a minute to decrypt the message. He stepped back to let Jesmin and Sharr watch as the holo-image flickered to life over the console. Jesmin, dimly curious, stepped up between the two of them to watch.

The holo showed Garik "Face" Loran, director of Galactic Alliance Security, from the waist up. His arms were crossed over his chest, his bald head was bowed forward a little, and he seemed to be scowling. Jesmin felt her gut drop and wondered what new calamity had happened.

Loran titled his face up so his image looked at the assembled Wraiths. He said, "I hope this message is coming through clearly. There's been a security leak. We're not sure from where. I suspect it was Imperial, not Alliance, though naturally the Imps are saying we're to blame.

"The doesn't matter. What matters is, someone leaked images of the recent battle on the HoloNet. Everyone's seen footage of a Yuuzhan Vong fleet at war with modern Alliance vessels. There's a huge uproar. Wynn Dorvan is doing his best to deny it without explicitly denying it, but it may be only a matter of time.

"There's already been one riot on Coruscant. There may be more to come. I just want you to know that the situation at home is escalating quickly."

Thaymes swore under his breath. Sharr paled.

Loran's face darkened even further. "There's some-thing else, something I haven't been able to confirm or deny. Imperial Intelligence is denying it, but I have spies at Yaga Minor who say that the Chimaera, which was in drydock for refitting into a museum, was hijacked by a group of Mandalorian commandos and piloted out of the system. Its whereabouts are unknown. What connection this has to your mission, or the leaks, I can't say, but it's too timely to be a coincidence.

"Whatever happens, I have faith in all of you. You may proceed as you wish. If you uncover any important information- about Sekot, the Vong, the True Victory fleet, or Chimaera- send it through the Esfandia relay at once. Good hunting. Loran, out."

The image flickered out. Thaymes scowled and Sharr stared at the floor. The latter said, "I'll take this to Voort. I think the commanders need to see it right away."

Jesmin, to her own mild surprise, didn't feel sad. She felt, if anything, strangely relieved. Yes, things might be messy back home, and yes, it could affect her parents and brother, and just maybe they could run into some rouge Imperial fleet too. But for now everyone was still alive. Nobody else had been stolen from her. She almost felt optimistic.

-{}-

Two standard hours later, the chief personnel of Task Force Trinity gathered in the briefing room about the destroyer Starless. For its captain, the experience was intimidating. Syal Antilles was accustomed to having famous family and famous friends-of-the-family, but she never thought she'd be sitting at a table, discussing mission strategy with Jagged Fel, Jaina Solo, Ben Skywalker, Tahiri Veila, and Traest Kre'fey. Nor, for that matter, did she ever think she'd be working with a red-skinned female Twi'lek Imperial officer. She certainly never expected to be sitting next to her gold-haired, black-uniformed cousin and Chiss Defense Force Commodore whom she'd only met minutes before. The only person at the table she would have normally felt comfortable around was the massive Gamorrean currently speaking through a mechanical voice-coder.

It was a strange, strange universe.

The Gamorrean (growing up she'd known him as 'Uncle Piggy' but now he was 'Mr. SaBinring,' leader of the unofficial intelligence/black ops unit usually called Wraith Squadron) had just finished showing them the latest transmission from Coruscant. His mechanized voice was saying, "If you want me to relay anything to Director Loran, we should do it now, before we get any deeper into Unknown Space. After that it's going to get harder and harder to contact the relay station at Esfandia."

"Thank you, Mr. SaBinring," Jagged Fel nodded. The meeting room had a circular table but Fel was clearly at the head of it anyway; all eyes went to him, expectant. Fel felt all the attention and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The man was technically a civilian, yet all three factions in this combined fleet- Alliance, Imperial, Chiss- had agreed to defer to his judgment. As such, Fel was dressed in a uniform that recalled a little of all three. Its design was Alliance, but instead of navy blue like Syal's it was a matte black fabric, like that of the Chiss, and the red Imperial bloodstripes of his father's old fighter units ran down the arms, legs, and flanks.

Sensing her husband's discomfort, Jaina Solo spoke up. Despite being a Jedi Master, she wore a dark green jumpsuit and black vest, just like the red-haired teenager and blonde woman at either side. Solo said, "I think Loran was right. I think this event, while unfortunate, is just reason for us to get our job done faster."

"Very true," Wynssa said coolly. "However, we can't discount the theft of Chimaera. It is almost certainly connected to our mission."

"The theft of Chimaera specifically is the striking part." Kre'fey said. The old Bothan drummed his claws on the tabletop. "It's an old ship, and if it was hijacked from Yaga Minor it probably has only a skeleton crew. It's a symbolic act, not a tactical one. It's going to be the centerpiece of a larger fleet."

"Whose fleet, then?" Wynssa asked.

It might have been rhetorical, or it might have been an honest question; the young woman seemed very composed and professional, and Syal was sure the Chiss had good intelligence, but it was possible she simply wasn't as familiar with the convoluted political wrangling in the galaxy at large.

Wynssa let the question hang for a moment. Syal's eyes drifted past her, toward the red-skinned Twi'lek woman in the Imperial uniform. Other eyes did too, most notably Solo's. The Jedi woman narrowed her eyes and asked Fy'lyor, "Have you gotten any information from Bastion about this, Colonel?"

Fy'lyor didn't say anything right away. She held Solo's stare for a long moment, then shifted her attention to Jagged Fel. She smiled a little and said, "Do you expect me to share all my intelligence with this assembly?"

"I believe the Alliance has shared some of its intel with you," Jagged said evenly.

"Very true," Fy'lyor nodded. "However, I doubt Mr. SaBinring has disclosed everything he's learned from Director Loran. I certainly doubt Commodore Fel has told us everything the Chiss know."

Wynssa nodded curtly.

SaBinring squeaked, "This alliance is not going to hold unless we agree to share some information."

Fy'lyor said, "I'm not averse to sharing information. However, there need to be protocols going in."

"What kind of protocols?" Solo said pointedly.

"Anything that could present a clear and present danger to this fleet should be disclosed to all parties," Wynssa said.

Kre'fey spoke up. "Anything about the Yuuzhan Vong- technology, organization- should be shared as well."

"I understand I can't ask all ships to share long-range navigational data," Syal said, "But I do think star charts of everything within, say, ten parsecs of our current location should be broadcast and synced in all ships." She looked at her pale-haired cousin. "Is that acceptable, Commodore?"

The blond woman frowned. "You assume the Chiss have the entire Unknown Regions mapped in detail. The assumption is flattering, but it's also wrong."

"You have more than we do," Syal pressed. If she was going to safeguard her fleet she needed basic inform-ation on her environs. Anything else would make her a derelict commander.

"The Empire would also appreciate proper star charts," Fy'lyor spoke up.

Wynssa shook her head. "Ten parsecs is unaccept-able."

"Eight," Fel said, with the tone of a man driving a hard bargain.

His sister shook her head again. "No."

"Six," Syal pressed. It was lower than she wanted but she needed something.

Wynssa considered for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. We will sync with your navigational computers after every jump to lightspeed."

"Good," Jagged said with visible relief. "Thank you, Commodore."

Wynssa nodded slightly in his direction.

"With that settled, let's go back where we started." Fel swung his attention back to Fy'lyor. "Will you share anything about Chimaera and who stole it?"

Fy'lyor smiled faintly, like she was playing a game with him. "You presume a lot, Mr. Fel. I never said I knew anything about it."

"But you do," Solo said firmly.

Fy'lyor shifted her eyes from husband to wife. "Do I now? And how are you sure? Is it your Jedi magic?"

"Common sense. Your superiors wouldn't keep you in the dark about a major threat any more than ours."

"Very well," Fy'lyor leaned back in her chair. "Chimaera was stolen by Natasi Daala and Drikl Lecersen. There's indications Boba Fett and his Mandalorians were involved."

Wynssa was the only one to betray a look of shock; apparently Chiss intel wasn't as omniscient as some feared. For Syal, something heavy settled in the pit of her stomach. It made sense, of course. Daala and Lecersen resented Fel and what they saw as his hand-picked successor in Vitor Reige. Stealing the most famous ship in the Empire and using it to slay the Vong menace would humiliate Fel and Reige and establish them as new Imperial standard-bearers.

Jagged was apparently thinking the same thing as his cousin. He sighed and said, "She was always too clever."

"Who, Daala?" Solo asked. "If she were really smart she wouldn't throw her lot in with Lecersen or Fett. With a trio like that I'd be amazed if anyone comes through without a knife in the back."

"Maybe so, but we shouldn't underestimate her," Kre'fey said. "She's an inventive warrior and she clearly understands the power of symbols."

"Agreed," Jagged nodded. "So in short, we have one more thing to worry about."

"Yeah," sighed Solo, "We've got the Yuuzhan Vong, True Victory, the Daala-Fett-Lecersen Trinity of Terror... anybody else? We might as well add a few more."

Wynssa Fel didn't share the humor. "I think that is enough, thank you."

"It just means we have to be a little more prepared," Fel leaned forward and placed both hands on the table. "In the meantime, we're en route to the coordinated the Jedi provided us. We have two more relay jumps, then we'll send out a flight to survey the space. Mr. SaBinring, have two pilots ready with recon X-wings."

"Gladly," Voort nodded his massive head.

Fel rose to his feet. "When we drop from hyperspace next, we'll take time for ship captains to return to their vessels. Also, Commodore Fel, I'd like you to start transmitting relevant nav data from here to our destination."

"Agreed, Mr. Fel," Wynssa said, also rising.

They had a strange relationship, unlike what Syal and Myri's had been. They were not just distant, like they barely knew the other at all, but actively wary, almost distrustful. Syal's relationship with her younger, more sprightly sister had been more awkward than anything.

Everyone else began to stand too. Fel walked through the aft door into his personal chambers, and his wife followed. Everyone else began to file out the doorway into the main hall.

After they passed through the doorway, Syal sidled next to Voort. He was some three times her girth, and together they nearly blocked the hallway.

She looked up at him and asked, "Do you have pilots in mind for the recon mission?"

Syal had read the mission report from the last battle, where both recon X-wings had been shot down minutes after entering the fray. One of those had been her sister's, and Voort had been the one who ordered her into the cockpit. Normally Syal would have sought some advice or counsel from the Gamorrean, but Myri's loss loomed between them, leaving them unconnected in their guilt and grief.

"I'll take volunteers," Voort said simply.

"Very well," Syal said. "I'll make sure to have combat wing standing by, just in case."

"Odds are against us being unlucky again," Voort said.

Syal shook her head. "Uncle Piggy, never tell me the odds. I feel like mine keep coming up bad."

-{}-

As chief of Task Force Trinity, Jagged Fel's quarters were located two decks below the captain's, and while private, they were less spacious. Jag, in typical gentle-manly manner, had insisted on giving the larger quarters to Captain Antilles, and after a show of objection, real or feigned, she had agreed.

Jaina was glad her husband was choosing this formal and non-obtrusive style of command, but sometimes she wished they'd taken the bigger room. This one didn't have enough room to pace and stew.

"She's playing games with you," Jaina said as she stalked from one end of the room to another, which amounted to a few long strides.

"Which she are we talking about?"

"The red one with the big star destroyer."

"I'd say she was more playing with you," Jagged said. He was sitting on the side of the bed and pulling off his boots. "She had every intention of telling us about Daala. She just wanted to get something out of it first."

"What, annoy me?"

"Partially." Jagged smiled a little. "Mostly, she wanted to lay down guidelines for information-sharing. It was a smart way to do it. Frankly, we should have worked this out before embarking. It was my mistake."

Jaina stopped pacing and looked down at her husband. "Jagged, don't blame yourself. This whole situation's a crazy mess. Everything's happened so fast and nobody expected it."

"They should have," Jagged frowned. "The moment Zonama Sekot went missing they should have sent a task force like this to track it down."

"Well, things got a little busy," Jaina blew out a sigh. She rotated one shoulder, then the other.

"Sore back?" Jagged asked.

"A little. I don't know why."

"Here. Sit down." Jagged patted the side of the bed.

Jaina dropped down next to him. Jag tucked his legs onto the bed and scooted behind her. As he began to massage her shoulders she squeezed her eyes shut to savor the feeling.

"You're a good husband, you know that?"

"I try," he whispered in her ear.

"Really, Jag. Ace pilot. Skilled diplomat. Brilliant commander. Excellent masseuse. You're really the whole package."

"Please, Jaina, you're embarrassing me," he dead-panned.

She sighed, "It's no wonder you've got a harem."

His hands froze, thumbs buried under her shoulder-blades. She felt him sputter for a moment before he spat, "What?"

Jaina opened her eyes and looked back at him. "You heard me. Think about it. Me, Wynssa, Antilles, Tahiri, Red. You've got yourself quite a collection."

"Don't forget Ben Skywalker and the two-hundred-kilo Gamorrean."

"Hmmm, them too."

"And let's not forget that I'm related to half the people at that table. Two by blood, two by marriage, not that the blood ones really count."

Jaina leaned forward and angled to face him. "Wynn and Syal don't count?"

Jagged got that stiff, please-don't-pry look. He avoided her eyes and said, "Before last week, I hadn't seen Wynssa in almost ten years. And I barely know my cousin."

It had been four years since Jacen died, almost seventeen since losing Anakin, and neither of them would ever come back. Jaina couldn't think of anything to say.

"It doesn't matter," Jagged shook his head and held her eyes again. "What's important is that we work together as a team. We have three Jedi and three factions to this Alliance. I'm going to want to spread your skills around."

"Okay," Jaina laid a hand on his knee and put on a slanted Solo smile. "Just don't tell me I have to be with Red. I don't think I could take her."

"Well, sending Tahiri to liaise with the Imperials is probably a bad choice too," Jagged said. While her husband had once been resentful to Tahiri for killing Gilad Pellaeon, her help in combating Abeloth and Admiral Daala seemed to have absolved her in his eyes, even if he didn't quite consider her family in the same way Jaina did.

"We'll send Ben to the Imperials, then," Jaina said. "After that, well, I guess I can stay with the Chiss. Get to know the in-laws."

"Spending time with my sister would be... interesting for you."

"'Interesting' as in interesting, or 'interesting' as in terrible?"

Jagged shrugged and smiled weakly. "As I said, I don't really know Wynn any more. She's certainly changed from when we were young. From what I can tell, though, she's Chiss through and through."

"Meaning what exactly? Disciplined? Severe? Ruthless?"

"All those things," Jag nodded. "Secretive, also. I was surprised when the Chiss offered to come on this mission. Suspicious."

"What do you suspect?"

"I don't know," Jagged sighed. "That's what I want you to do when you accompany Wynn over to Celestial. Be suspicious. Observe. Poke into everything. Use those Jedi powers to see what they're not telling us."

"Okay," Jaina nodded, "Just so long as you tell Ben to do the same."

"Of course I will."

"Well, that makes Tahiri the lucky one, doesn't it?"

"I suppose so. I'd also like to keep her with Admiral Kre'fey on Starless. They're very different kinds of experts on the Yuuzhan Vong, but I know I'll appreciate advice from both of them."

Jaina's thoughts went out to the Bothan admiral. She tried to think of him as he'd been during the War, in his pristine white ship, commanding Jedi and soldiers alike in fervent assault on the Yuuzhan Vong.

"He seems older, doesn't he?" she asked. "More tired."

Jagged chuckled humorlessly. "We're all old now, Jaina."

"Fierfek," Jaina sighed, "We are, aren't we?" She fell back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Jagged reached out with one hand and twined his fingers with hers. "It seems like so long ago... We were kids, weren't we?"

"No," Jagged said, "No one could go through that and still be a child."

"I know. It just feels like... Despite everything that happened, how horrible it was, we were still..." She couldn't finish. She couldn't bring herself to say it. She'd felt more alive then, more alive than she ever had before or since. She felt like she'd been sleepwalking since marrying Jag and turning to a peaceful life. No, since before that. Since the day she stabbed a lightsaber into her brother's heart.

"You know," she said, "Being the Sword of the Jedi really stinks sometimes."

"You should try managing Imperials, Alliance, Chiss, and Jedi all at once."

"Yeah, but at least you get a harem."

"Please stop calling it that," Jag said, and dropped down beside her.