A/N: Marsk- glad to have you aboard, and you're right… Leyla's love-life is basically doomed on general principle, between Kyp, Han, Jag, Wedge, Ben… hahaha.

Part VII

"It was a close call."

"I got the job done, didn't I?"

Sal-Solo seethed silently as he restrained himself from punching the other man in his smirking mouth as he responded in a tone that was equal-parts condescending and smug. "Yes, you got the job done; now, Chief Sal-Solo, you may sit back and allow me to take over operations. It certainly wouldn't do for the Alliance to pin you definitively to the Confederation sooner than we want."

A brow quirked. "The Jedi won't be fooled for long."

"Yes," the other man frowned lightly. "The Jedi; I confess, they were not a part of my initial calculations. They could yet bring the whole thing down around us, couldn't they?"

"It's the only thing Jedi are good at, as far as I've ever gathered."

As was semi-usual, he was ignored. "No matter; I think I know how to keep them away long enough to achieve… the next major step."

"We could just do it now…"

"No!" he was cut off sharply. "No, Saxan is too well-liked by the Corellian people, we need a convenient scapegoat, and we need that scapegoat to actually be in the system first, now don't we?"

Sal-Solo scowled, but did not respond. With more Jedi on the way than just the two originally anticipated, it seemed that this operation was about to take a turn for the unpredictable.

His partner didn't seem concerned.

X-X-X-X

The tap at his quarters came just after twenty-one hundred hours; he knew it was coming, and he'd have known it was coming even without the Force to tell him it was coming. It was just a fact, an absolute truth, an inevitability.

As was the fact that he was going to open the door and let her in.

"Can I sit down?" He nodded and she perched in the chair by the desk, placing on the desk a small bottle and two small glasses he hadn't noticed in her hand when he'd opened the door. "Drink?" her brow quirked. "A real one, this time, we're in hyperspace, it's hardly as though there'll be a sudden emergency… don't tell on me."

Lips twisted in a wry smile, he sat on the edge of the bed and nodded. The atmosphere in the room was surprisingly relaxed as she poured two small glasses of brandy and passed one to him before leaning back in the chair, propping one elbow on the desk as she watched him and sipped at her own drink.

"So… what's next for you, Kyp?"

He shrugged. "After Leyla spends a couple days on Corellia with Jag's family, we'll return to Coruscant, meet with the Masters' Council, discuss the progress of the apprenticeship, and see what further assignments they have for us."

"The work of a Jedi is never finished."

"Hm." They drank and considered one another for a minute. "If this Corellian thing gets out of hand, you might suddenly find your own job a whole lot more interesting- and not necessarily in a good way."

"It's my job," she pointed out softly. "Are you not going planet-side with Leyla?"

With a slightly sardonic smile, he tossed back the rest of his drink, made a face, and set his glass down. "Strong stuff," he choked; she grinned devilishly. "And no, probably not; she'll comm Wedge again after we arrive sometime, and then probably go down on her own. I'm friendly enough with the Antilles and the Fels, but…" he shrugged. "It's Leyla they want to see."

"So you're stuck with us an extra couple days," she ascertained.

"Hey," he spread his arms and shrugged noncommittally, "Personally, I'm fascinated to see how this whole Jedi-mediation thing goes; I've dealt with Thrackan Sal-Solo before. He's a crafty, slippery man without an honest bone in his body. It'll be interesting to see who Luke Skywalker feels is up to the task of dealing with him."

She mulled that a moment, debating whether to- yet again- bring up a topic from his past. Apparently the curiosity overtook any reservations. "You know…" she hesitated, "I was with the Second Fleet under General Antilles for a while… including nine years ago…"

His brows quirked in amusement. "Ah- then you probably witnessed his wrath towards me."

"Not personally, but there were rumors after the fact," she conceded. "But… what I don't understand… I know you kept it quiet for a long time, but he's Jag Fel's uncle; how was it that even he didn't know that Leyla was your daughter? Or were the rumors exaggerated, about him trying to charge you with treason?"

Kyp let out a heavy breath and smiled a bit self-consciously. "It was a well-kept secret. At that point," he considered, "besides Jaina and Jag, of course, only her parents, brother, aunt, and uncle were in the loop. Oh, and Corran Horn- don't ask," he smiled at her confused look.

"And Leyla," Lassiter added wryly. Kyp answered with a slow shake of his head. "What?"

"Leyla didn't know," he murmured softly.

She was, apparently, at a loss for words. "But… she was seven years old," she finally managed. "You rescued her."

"Yes, I did; and I probably wouldn't have been able to, had it been common knowledge. She did learn the truth though, more-or-less because of what happened." For a long moment, she was just staring at him. "You needn't feel bad for me," he assured her dryly, clearly picking up on her indignation in the Force. "I already told you that I'd missed out on much of Leyla's young life."

"I didn't think that meant an entire seven years of it," she protested hotly, but dropped the subject abruptly when he just shrugged and looked away.

They talked for another half an hour, about relatively innocuous things. Yet for as relaxed as the whole encounter was after the brief tension, Kyp knew that it simply meant that putting off the discomfiting conversation until she left. And sure enough…

"It's late," she finally murmured. "I should go."

"I enjoyed this," he told her sincerely as she stood and collected the glasses. "Illegal liquor and all. Thank you."

The silence weighed heavily as she hesitated by the door, biting her lip in a display of nervousness that made her look much younger than her forty-two years. "I'm sorry for being so… forward with you," she finally got out in a rush. "It's my nature; it's how I've survived the chaos around me since I was a teenager. And it's gotten me in trouble a few times," she added ruefully.

"Oh?" he smiled lightly.

Shaking her head slowly back and forth, she shrugged. "You have your secrets, I have mine."

"That's fair."

Another silence ensued and threatened to become a tense heavy one; she broke it with a soft sigh. "I'll miss you when you leave in a few days."

He stood and leaned against the desk, feeling suddenly contained in the small billet. "As I will you, Gennevi," his tone was soft.

"Really?"

"Really."

"You don't find me… frustrating?"

With a sly grin, he took two steps towards her and regarded her closely. "I find you confusing," he countered quietly. "And that is not always a bad thing."

He kissed her once, not even wholly sure why he was doing it; but at the moment, it felt right and he wanted to do it, and who was he to deny those sensations? And when he pulled away, she murmured a simple, "Goodnight," smiled lightly, and ducked out the door.

X-X-X-X

Just before noon- by Galactic Standard, ship-time anyway- the fleet came out of hyperspace in the Corellian system. Less than an hour later, Lassiter found Kyp in the dining facility, eating distractedly as he simultaneously perused a datapad sitting on the table beside his tray. A quick glance around the room showed that Leyla wasn't present, and Lassiter wondered if she'd already made her way down to the planet.

Risking distracting the busy Jedi Master, she slid into the seat across from him. "Hey there; what are you looking at?"

"Just some news updates from the HoloNet- checking out what we missed while in hyperspace."

"Anything exciting?"

"Routine as a drought on Tatooine."

Her lips quirked. "That rhymes." Their eyes met for a moment and he chuckled to himself before peering back down at the datapad. "Is Leyla already gone?"

"No," he murmured. "She headed off to a comm center a few minutes ago to get in touch with Wedge again, he was supposed to talk with Jag's parents in the last couple days…"

She nodded, though he wasn't watching her anyway. When a couple of minutes passed in silence, she'd finished her cup of caf, and Kyp was still tracking the recent happenings in the galaxy, she decided it was time to give him his space. As she made to stand up though, he suddenly looked upwards, eyes going slightly glassy.

She frowned. "Kyp?" For a moment he said nothing- and then he stiffened, eyes widening slightly and breath catching in his throat, before he stood quickly and took off without another word. "Kyp…?" she called after him, but he was already at the door and paying her no heed; nor had he noticed that he left his datapad on the table.

Shrugging off the odd behavior as a Jedi-thing, she shook her head- and then jumped as alarms started blaring through the ship, signaling battle-stations.

Slipping the forgotten datapad into a pocket, she hurried out into the rush of people who were suddenly hurrying towards their assigned posts. In this particular section of the ship, those were mostly fighter pilots and maintenance crewers for the hangars and so, when she finally managed to take the turbolift up two decks to the level that contained her squadron's ready-room and hangar, she was surprised to see an angry-eyed Gavin Darklighter striding quickly down the hall in front of her.

"Admiral?" she called after him, hurrying to catch up. "Shouldn't you be about eight decks that way," she pointed up at the ceiling.

"The captain has the bridge," he responded tersely, turning a corner sharply. Lassiter's datapad beeped with an urgent message, and she quickly scanned it to see that the alert had been changed to a ready-alert standby. That, of course, still meant that she had to go prepare her squadron, but Darklighter seemed to be heading in that direction anyway, much to Lassiter's confusion.

"Sir?"

He spared her a quick glance. "The Jedi StealthX wing has arrived," he bit. "I've directed them to this level."

When he offered no further explanation, she hesitantly spoke up again. "And… the alarm is for…?"

"A sleeper mine explosion."

A pause stretched out between them. "Just one?" she finally asked.

"Yes; one remarkably conveniently-placed one, but just one."

Now she was beginning to see where this was going. "The Jedi team hit it?"

"The lead fighter did."

"Casualties?"

He grimaced. "Unknown at this point; Stealth two managed to slave the controls, but the craft is severely damaged, according to our scout ships."

As they turned the final corner towards the Trinity squadron ready-room, a group of five pilots, dressed in anonymous black flightsuits, came striding down the corridor towards them; all five carried lightsabers on their belts, Lassiter noted in a detached sort of way. Darklighter halted and addressed the figure in front.

"You are in charge, Jedi…?"

"Vulcor," he said shortly. "And, for the moment, yes, I am, admiral."

They shook hands as Darklighter eyed each of the five and seemed to confirm something, based on the sudden grim set of his face, Lassiter noticed.

Darklighter's voice dropped, and Lassiter strained to hear him, even standing just behind him as she was. "Is she…?"

"Fine; superficial injuries. Master Durron is seeing to them in a ready room down the corridor."

"Any other injuries- or damage?" The man- Vulcor- shook his head. "Do you have any idea if there were any more sleepers out there?"

"We saw no such indication; then again, they're as dead on our sensors as they are on yours."

The admiral let out a breath. "Very well; if you'll continue on to the bridge, you can make your report with Captain Wesbin- I'll be along shortly. In the meantime, we're working on setting up a conference comm with Defense Minister Willems and Prime Minister Saxan to find out what the hell just happened."

The sandy-haired Jedi at the front of the group nodded curtly and continued swiftly on his way, presumably towards the same turbolift Lassiter had just exited. Darklighter continued quickly towards the Trinity ready-room and palmed the release-panel, waving the startled pilots aside as they made to stand at attention, eyes focused instead on the far side of the room…

…Where a young woman sat, looking painfully impatient as Kyp Durron knelt at her left side, pulling at the black sleeve of her flightsuit, which was largely burnt- as was much of the skin beneath it, judging by the areas that had apparently burned clean through. A couple pilots shot them inquisitive, furtive looks periodically, but had steered clear while Kyp tended the wounded Jedi.

The woman looked up as they approached though, and gave the admiral a wry smile. "Admiral Darklighter," she acknowledged with an inclination of her head. "I'd salute, but…"

"Quite alright, I assure you," he tilted his head. "What happened?" He looked at Kyp and then half-turned to survey the rest of the room, frowning lightly. "And where's Leyla?"

"Comm center," Lassiter told him quietly. "Why-?"

The door opened and Leyla dashed in, eyes quickly darting about the room before zeroing in on their small gathering on the far side.

"Mom!" she exclaimed.

Lassiter wasn't the only one who turned in surprise back towards the slight figure on the chair. A couple of the pilots glanced interestedly between the teenager, the wounded woman in the chair, and the Jedi Master at her side.

So this was Jaina Solo-Fel.

X-X-X-X