Chapter 37

Jag stared at the ceiling blankly, unable to sleep. Random thoughts flew through his mind at lightspeed, jumping randomly from one subject to another. Jaina rested peacefully beside him, blissfully unaware of his inner turbulence. Occasionally she made one of those soft noises she makes in her sleep, then settled back into her dreams. Jag turned his head slightly to look at her as she shifted again.

Her lips worked slightly, as if trying to form words. She was dreaming. The hand that she had draped across his bare chest stiffened, her tiny hand gripping his bicep in a frighteningly tight grip, fingernails digging his skin. The other moved to the minuscule bulge over her otherwise toned abdomen, as if in reassurance. After a moment she relaxed, the dream having passed, returning her to mindless slumber.

That was not uncommon, at least since she had become pregnant. Before then nothing had disturbed her. In fact, he often thought that little less than a full fledged ion storm could rouse her. But since Hanna dreams had been more the norm. He supposed it was a way for her to release her inner anxiety over the coming stresses of parenthood.

That was something Jag knew well. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was only nineteen. When the realization did hit him—just like now, in the dead of night when there was nothing else to occupy his tired mind—it was probably the most frightening thing he could think of. Once or twice he had woken with Jaina in his arms and—for a millisecond—panicked, forgetting the marriage that had been so abruptly pressed on him. He always remembered immediately, and the deep abiding love for her would return. It was just that sometimes his life moved too fast for him to keep up.

It was little over a year ago he had been a single, eighteen-year-old man doing his best to live up to his name in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet. It seemed as if in the blink of an eye he had a wife, a child, and a job weighed with the responsibility of hundreds of thousands of men and women. It was like time had skipped ahead of him, and he had woken up one day with a completely different life and no memory of having getting there. No, the word fright didn't do what he felt in those moments justice.

And there was Hanna. He loved her with a father's love, so entrenched in his blood that a thousand Yuuzhan Vong couldn't keep him from protecting her. But sometimes his fear of her swelled like an overfed Hutt. What was he going to do with a baby? He knew nothing about kids. Cherith had been so close to him in age he didn't remember a time before her. And he had been entered in the Academy soon after Wyn was born and had observed very little of her infancy. The simple fact was, Jag wasn't qualified to be a dad.

Dad.

Jag shivered. There was a helpless little life he would suffer and die without a thought for that was going to very soon have no other means of survival than himself and Jaina. She would need food, and clothes, and changing, and what the hell was he supposed to do when she cried?

What do babies want when they cry? Food? He had no idea. What if he couldn't get her to stop crying? And then there was after infancy. She would need an education. And there would be so much pressure on her, being the child of two generals, one a Jedi Knight no less. What if she didn't want to be in the military? What if she hated flying, and being a Jedi, and every other thing both her parents held so dear...

Jag was working himself into a panic, and knew it. He would have been visibly upset, something he prided himself on not doing, had anyone been there to see him. It was too much responsibility; too much, too soon...

"Jag?"

Jag had broken into a sweat, and so turning to look down into Jaina's face made his skin rub uncomfortably against hers. "Hmm?"

"What are you doing?" Her eyes remained closed, her face pressed against the crook of his arm, jumbling her words.

"What do you mean, what am I doing?"

She sighed and raised up on one arm, looking down at him from under the curtain of her tussled hair. "I know you. I'm tied to you. I can't sleep when you're putting off stress like and ion trail. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it and get some sleep."

Jag avoided her gaze, determined not to reveal the inner turmoil to her. She needed him to be strong. He set his jaw, and Jaina sighed. She leaned down, the soft ends of her hair tickling his chest as she laid gentle kissed down the scar on his brow. When she reached his eyebrow she pulled away slightly, just enough to rest her forehead against his. Jag looked into her eyes then, and finally a sense of calm settled into his stomach.

"You can tell me," she whispered into the dark.

It hit him then, the anchor he needed to hold him firm. He wouldn't be alone in this, not ever. He had Jaina. At the thought a smile piqued the edges of his mouth. Gods, she was going to make a wonderful mother.

"I was afraid," he said quietly, no longer ashamed to tell her anything. "Afraid of letting Hanna down."

She smiled then, and brushed her lips lightly against his. "Me too."

Jag swallowed hard. "You don't seem it."

"Because I know I won't be alone," she shifted a little, folding her arms over his chest and resting her chin on them. "And because I know what not to do. I know how my parents treated me, and I know that what I wanted more than anything was just to have them love me." She smiled then, her amber eyes twinkling in the dark. "And we have plenty of love to go around. As long as we give her that, everything will be okay."

He grinned, feeling the fear recede farther and farther away. One hand snaked over her back and into her hair, pulling her down to where he could really kiss her. When she pulled away he asked, "How long has it been since I told you I loved you?"

She cocked her head as if in thought. "A couple hours, at least."

He pulled her down again and said, "Too long."

Jaina gripped his hand nervously and resisted the urge to bite her nails. "It'll be okay," he promised. "Cilghal's been working hard on her the past few days. She'll make the right choice."

Looking at Luke and Mara, hands clasped together as if they let go they would lose each other forever, she could only hope he was right. "Not to be a spoil sport," Cilghal interjected reluctantly, "but what are we going to do with her if she refuses to help Mara?"

"Just what we promised," Mara said immediately. "Let her go."

"Are you kidding?" Anakin pounced immediately. "We have to turn her over to Intel back on Coruscant. Belindi Kalenda will know what to do with her."

Inwardly, Jaina winced at the thought of letting their greatest weapon go, but knew Luke and Mara would put their honor first. She had little choice.

Luke shook his head stubbornly. "I gave her my word, and I'm going to keep it."

It was then Nen Yim decided to make her entrance. She walked lazily into the room, seemingly disinterested in the anxious looks everyone tossed her way. It was Anakin who broke the silence. "Well?" he practically yelled.

She cocked a cynical brow at him. "Well what?"

"What have you decided, Master Shaper?" Cilghal said.

The Yuuzhan Vong took a deep, difficult breath. "I have thought long on what you have asked me. I have considered everything, and finally I think I have come to a decision. No matter what you do or say, I will never help you defeat my people." The room seemed to deflate, and both Mara and Luke sagged with the weight of her words. "But," she continued, "you all have shown given me much of what I will need when I return to the worldship, and I have given you nothing in payment. Such would be dishonorable. So, even though I will never give anything to your infidel governments, I will do my best to provide the cure for Mara's illness."

The burst of joy from so many powerful Jedi was overwhelming and exhilarating, and Jaina closed her eyes against the elation, not sure how much of it was her own or everyone else's. When she opened them again Mara had her face buried in her hands, and if Jaina didn't know any better she would have thought she was weeping. Luke had stood and moved towards the shaper, looking happier than Jaina had ever seen him. "There will never be words," he began slowly, "that can express my profound gratitude. Thank you."

Nen Yim smiled weakly as he shook her hand, nodding at everyone's expression of thanks. If she hadn't known any better, Jaina would have thought that behind her eyes was the tiniest twinge of guilt. But she had no time to ponder it, because Mara was going to be cured, and that's all that mattered.

The needle gleamed in the light, but Jaina didn't shy from the pain. Anything for Mara. Nen Yim and said she would need uninfected human DNA samples to help adjust the antidote from Yuuzhan Vong physiology to human, and they had all been more than happy to provide her with it. It was agreed that Cilghal would assist in the creation of the antidote, and between the two of them it should be done in weeks. The prospect was more than exciting.

Jaina was the first in line, eager to lend Luke and Mara her support. Anakin sat next to her, his sleeve already rolled up, waiting. The Yuuzhan Vong checked the syringe for the third time, though Jaina wasn't sure why. She held it up to the light, examining the needle with scrutiny. "What's she doing?" Anakin whispered.

"Beats me," she answered. "Whatever works for her."

Finally seeming satisfied, she lowered the needle and came towards Jaina, a small side smile tickling her features. "There should be little pain," she said.

Jaina just smiled encouragingly. She reached out and pinched a piece of Jaina's flesh between her fingers and brought the needle down against it. The tip was a whisper away from her flesh when Jaina's danger sense spiked, causing her to jerk away. "What's wrong?" she shaper asked nervously.

Jaina rubbed her arm, looking at it curiously. She hadn't punctured the skin. "I'm not sure. It's okay, though. Just go ahead, I'll be fine."

Nen Yim nodded and reached out again. She hadn't even touched Jaina when Anakin's hand shot out, pulling Jaina out of her grasp. "What?" she hissed.

He shot Nen Yim a venomous glare before answering. "I don't know. But warning bells are going off like crazy in my head. We shouldn't be doing this."

Jaina chewed on her lower lip. "How do you know?"

He looked around, confused. "I have no idea. Just...just don't do it, Jaina. None of us should."

"What do I tell Uncle Luke?" she demanded.

Anakin set his jaw stubbornly. "The truth. We tell him we had a bad feeling. She can fix up an antidote for a Yuuzhan Vong now and configure it later, after I have this figure out."

Jaina sighed reluctantly. "I don't know, Anakin."

His eyes narrowed cunningly. "What about you baby? If something dangerous is in that needle, do you want it anywhere near Hanna?"

Immediately Jaina recoiled, her shields flaring up in defense. That shaper wasn't getting anywhere near her and her baby. "Okay," she agreed. "But you're going to explain this to Uncle Luke."