Chapter Eight

The refugee area of the base was dotted with dirty, battered grey shelters. The Alliance tried to keep the area as clean and orderly as possible. Refugees rarely stayed in the shelters long. Neither the Alliance nor refugees wanted to attract the Yuuzhan Vong's attention. It was no secret what happened to refugee worlds. Few personnel visited the area.

Britna curled up against one of the durasteel walls, arms wrapped around her knees. The moans and cries of the displaced echoed through the chamber. She had no place to go. She didn't want to join the contingent of beings that traveled around the galaxy, doomed to roam until they died. She currently shared a tent with two other women. One would sit and stare at the wall every day, mumbling about her lost children. The other was talkative, always trying to start up conversations about anything.

Britna watched as Jacen entered the chamber. He stopped in front of each tent, asking those sitting outside if they were okay. She saw him change bandages and calm a crying child. As he passed her tent, he knelt down and picked up a Rugger, a rodent from Endor. It crawled up his arm and settled on his shoulder.

She watched him for an hour. The members of the refugee committee came by every few days, but no one expressed the depth of caring that Jacen did. She wondered if he'd always been that way or if his time with the Vong had caused that trait to develop.

"Hello, Britna," Jacen greeted as he approached her some time later. The Rugger was still perched on his shoulder. He handed it a crumb of a ration bar, which it ate eagerly.

"Hello, Jacen," she said as she stood. "I see you have a new friend."

Jacen grinned as he stroked the rodent's head with a finger. "Command won't be happy about it."

Britna made a face, "I remember the decontamination."

"At least they didn't shave off your hair."

"I'd have killed them," Britna responded flatly.

"Are you planning on leaving?" Jacen asked.

Britna shrugged, "I don't really have anywhere to go. All my money was on my ship. It's been digested by now, I'm sure."

"What about your family?"

"I have no idea. My mother left when I was five. Dad was around, but he never got over Mother. I had a little sister. She joined the New Republic military a couple years ago. I haven't heard from her or Dad in years," Britna explained, ignoring the feeling of guilt in the back of her mind.

"I'm sorry," Jacen said quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks," she said, and then changed the subject. "I guess I'll just hang out here. I'm no solider, though."

"Neither am I."

Britna jerked her head in surprise. "You aren't?"

"I don't like killing."

"What about the Vong?" she asked.

"There are more innocent Vong than killers," he pointed out.

Britna was bewildered. She hated the Vong. She had hated them for years, but her capture had only strengthened those feelings. She knew Jedi were supposed to respect life, but the Yuuzhan Vong killed billions. How could there be any good in beings like that?

"It's complicated," Jacen offered.

Britna raised an eyebrow, "Everything is complicated, Jacen."

The warm liquid threatened to pull him under. Blood flowed from the slashes on his back. His Yuuzhan Vong master was dissatisfied with the work in the villip field. He had chosen one of the strongest and one of the weakest to take his frustrations on. The weak one's screams echoed through the field. The other man growled in pain as the amphistaff whip-like tale connected with his back once again. The force of the whip tried to knock him off his feet.

The sharp pain hit him repeatedly. The master wasn't satisfied. He wanted to break the man. The man tripped and the undertow pulled him under. Warm mucus-like liquid filled his lungs. His chest burned and back ached. Fire burned through his extremities. Scars ripped open, leaking blood and pus into the field.

He kicked, trying to escape the dark prison. His legs stopped moving, despite his efforts. He had failed. He would die. He would die a meaningless death. He had failed to protect his family. He had failed to protect those around him. He had failed himself.

Jag awoke suddenly, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped down his bare torso. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to suppress the sensation of drowning. The scars on his back and arms stung with a phantom pain.

"Jag?" Jaina's voice called. It sounded like she was meters away.

"I'm fine, Jaina," he said. She gently pulled his hands from his eyes. She touched his cheek, sending soothing thoughts his way.

He closed his eyes, trying to quell his anxiety. He appreciated what she was trying to do, but he just wanted to be left alone. Concentrating on dreams only made it worse, he thought. It brought back unpleasant memories and situations he would rather forget.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jaina asked gently.

"No." he pulled away from her and moved to leave the bed. Jaina snatched his wrist. He paused, squashing the irrational anger that suddenly surged through his system. He hated himself for it. She was trying to help him. Getting mad at her wasn't going to solve anything.

He couldn't stop it.

"I'll be fine. I just need to get some air," Jag told her, gently pulling away.

"Jag, you were shaking. You are in pain. You're not okay," Jaina insisted. "That's the fourth time this week."

Jag stood up, snatching his boots from the floor. "Just leave it alone, Jaina."

She opened her mouth as if to retort, but closed it. She slid off the bed to stand next to him. She took his hands in hers and said, "Be careful."

Syal sat at the main terminal in the communications center of Shelter. She had volunteered to take the late afternoon shift. Her job was to watch for any incoming transmissions, alarms or problems. This particular afternoon, Davin accompanied her. He was sitting on the floor working on an assignment.

Syal remembered the day Davin was born with perfect clarity. Jagged had sent a message to her as soon as Jaina had gone into labor. She, Wyn and Cem waited all day for news. When the comm finally rang, the three answered it with joyous anticipation. The message that followed was something none had seen coming.

Chak was dying.

A medic contacted her to come down to the hospital. He hadn't said that Chak wouldn't make it, but Syal knew. Soontir was already in the room when the three arrived. Syal somehow found the strength to walk over to her son's bed. He was barely breathing, but he was conscious. His skin had been cleaned, but she could see bruises and cuts. He was bleeding internally in multiple places and his spine was severed. There was nothing they could do to save him. The doctors were amazed he was still alive.

Chak had smiled at his family. He tried to lighten the air by joking around. Cem told him that Jaina was having the baby. Chak had insisted they not contact Jag. He said he didn't want to take Jag away from the birth of his son.

Somehow, Chak lasted the day. Soontir had had the expected call from Jag rerouted into a portable holocomm brought into Chak's room. After the initial announcement of Davin's birth, Soontir told Jag and Jaina about Chak. Chak said his goodbyes to his younger brother, told him not to feel any guilt and asked to see his nephew time over the transmission. Syal wished with all her heart that he could hold the boy.

Chak died the next day, exactly one minute past midnight. Syal thought he held out on purpose to avoid adding a painful memory to his nephew's birthday. She never found out exactly what had happened to her son; Soontir told her it wasn't important. She was sure he was protecting her.

Syal wiped her now tear-filled eyes. Jag made it to the funeral, Jaina and Davin in tow. Their visit was an uneven mix of despair and joy. It was cruel that another one of her children would die when her first grandchild was born.

"Gramma? You okay?" Davin asked. She blinked her eyes and saw him standing in front of her with a concerned look on his face.

"Yes, sweetie, I'm fine," she said. "How are your lessons coming?"

"I'm done."

"Good job. Would you like to help me send these supply reports? "

Davin's eyes lit up. "When do they go?"

"Five minutes," she told him. He crawled into her lap and pushed the buttons she pointed to. She double-checked the encryption and comm codes while they waited. Davin pressed the send button and grinned.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait here until Knight Horn comes to relieve us," Syal explained.

"How long will that be?"

"Patience, child."

Davin let out an exaggerated sigh. "I am being patient. I was just asking."

Syal shook her head, chuckling. She smoothed his hair. He frequently accompanied her on her shifts. He was fascinated by the communication center. His favorite part was the model of the galaxy. With a flip of a switch, the view of the stars would move from a two-dimensional image on the wall to a three-dimensional one within the room itself. Davin liked to walk around the "stars" and guess who lived in each system.

Syal reached over to another console and turned on the display for Davin. He hopped down from her lap and began exploring the stars.

She didn't have the heart to tell her how many systems were gone.

"What are you doing down here?" A voice called into the mid-sized supply room.

Jaina glanced over her shoulder and responded, "Working."

"Shouldn't you be on patrol?" Mara Jade Skywalker asked as she leaned again the doorway.

"Grounded," Jaina stated and turned back to a spare hyperdrive she was repairing.

"So I hear."

Jaina rolled her eyes as Mara walked into the room and sat on a stool across from her. She wasn't going to let it go.

"Just say it," Jaina said with a sigh. She put down her tool, sat back and waited.

"I heard about your little maneuver. That was stupid, Jaina."

"Aunt Mara, I've already heard it from Jag, Wedge, Kyp and Corran. I get it. It was dumb. It was reckless," Jaina explained with exasperation. "Won't happen again."

Mara gave her a knowing look, "You are more like your uncle than you realize, Jaina. You both have to save everyone, even if they aren't in any real danger. He may have given up responsibility at Ithor years ago, but it was a lie. What would you have given up, Jaina?"

Jaina didn't respond. She just glared at her aunt.

"I'm not here to lecture you, Jaina."

"Funny, that's what it sounds like," Jaina muttered.

"You're hiding."

"No, I'm not." Jaina insisted.

"Yes, you are. You are hiding in this workshop," Mara pointed out.

"Just drop it."

"No."

Jaina gritted her teeth. She stood up, and began pacing. "It's Jag, okay? I don't want him to find me."

Mara nodded knowingly, "I figured as much."

Jaina continued pacing as she spoke, "It makes me a horrible person, I know. His home was destroyed. It was my home for years. Our families were hurt."

"It's not the accident, is it?"

"No. I mean, we either fight or just ignore each other. Sometimes it's just awkward," Jaina said, rubbing her forehead in frustration. "One day we're fine and then the next we're like total strangers."

"It takes time to adjust, Jaina," Mara said gently.

"Jacen never adjusted, Aunt Mara. He never recovered. He still keeps everything to himself. There's something lurking inside of him, just at the edge. Did you know that I haven't actually felt Jacen? Not like before. I know he's there. I can sense him as well as I can Davin and Ani, but it's not the same. Our twin bond is gone by choice," Jaina confessed. She sank back down on the stool. "What if Jag is gone? I feel like I'm grasping at strings, trying to hold onto something that's not there."

"Do you still love him?"

Jaina looked taken aback at the question, "Yes, of course."

"Jaina, none of us can pretend to understand the damage the Vong do to their captives, but we have to learn how to treat it," Mara rested a hand on her shoulder. "If we can't help the ones we love, what hope does the rest of the galaxy have?"

The dark form that was once Csilla was frozen on the screen. Soontir had arrived that morning, bringing a hazy recording of the attack and destruction of the planet. He had pulled it from a sentry satellite. A large fleet entered the space around Csilla. The recording showed the Chiss, Empire and Galactic Alliance forces meet the Vong, diverting attention away of escaping civilians.

Jag rewound the recording. He had yet to see what exactly destroyed Csilla. It looked as if chunks of the planet had been ripped away, but nothing actually hit the planet. He stared at the recording, focusing on the shadowed side of Csilla.

A movement caught his eye. He paused the recording and changed it to play in slow motion. He watched as a trio of small ships approached the planet and then separated. One was shot down, but the other two went to opposite sides of the planet, exactly where pieces of the planet began to break.

Soontir had told Jag that during the attack, the ground had begun to quake violently. The glaciers covering the surface cracked, allowing heat from the planet's inner layers to escape. The heat caused the ice to begin to melt. As they had fled in the Starflare, the planet seemed to crumble.

The size of the attack force the Vong sent to Csilla surprised Jag. It was much larger than anyone had expected. Either the Vong had more resources than Intelligence realized, or they needed Csilla. Either way, something had to be done. They weren't going to win the war at this rate.

When Jag wasn't working with Kyp's squadron, he spent time reviewing refugee data. He was trying to get a rough estimate of how many refugees had some type of military training. The records were incomplete, of course, but so far, the total was 5 percent. If he added generic pilots, it upped it to 11 percent. The numbers were better than he expected.

Most of the refugees were displaced children. During Vong attacks, parents would push their children on packed shuttles as they stayed behind to die. He understood why they did it. If it were Davin and Ani, he would do the same thing.

The thought of his children brought a sharp pain. He absent-mindedly rubbed his chest. He clung to the brief days he had spent with them. After he met Jaina, he wanted the war to end for her, to ease her suffering. When Jaina told him she was pregnant with Davin, he'd been struck with an overwhelming need to give his family a safe place to live. He didn't want Ani and Davin to grow up in a war-torn galaxy. He wanted Davin's only concern to be if he could borrow the speeder. He wanted Ani to see whatever she wanted in the universe.

Jag snatched his datapad off the table and began scanning information. The answer to the end was there. He just had to find it.