CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jacen strode slowly down the wide boulevard leading away from the rear of the Vikovan palace. It was dark now, well past midnight, and the street was deserted. He heard the occasional chirping bird or scurrying nocturnal rodent, but that was about it. He hadn't had time to meditate since the battle, and he needed it badly. He would have preferred somewhere a little less public, but this would do. Besides, it had been a while since he'd done a walking meditation. Always good to mix things up a little bit now and then.

The battle had been a victory and Jacen had managed not to embarrass himself with his flying. When he had shared a slow, close dance with Shawnkyr during the fete she had insisted that he had flown admirably. Personally he wasn't too sure about that, but he couldn't think of any reason she'd not tell him the truth. And the fete itself had been entertaining enough. It had taken all of his willpower not to openly laugh at Jaina's impatience and jealousy waiting for Jag to arrive. He'd managed to share only one dance with Iliana, a feat of which he was very proud. Then he'd caught up on the latest news from Csilla and the Fels with Ambassador Chu'itha, who was far more gregarious than any Chiss Jacen had ever met before. Then again, Jacen had only ever met military officers, not diplomats. Still, a Chiss who reminded him so much of Lando Calrissian was quite disconcerting. After that he'd passed some time with the other Jedi until making his early escape. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Gradually Jacen stretched more and more of his awareness into the Force. His feet moved forward methodically. His breathing slowed. He clasped his hands at the small of his back. He closed his eyes and relied on his perceptions to guide him along. It was definitely relaxing.

A disturbance in the Force jolted Jacen back to reality with his fingers closed around his lightsaber handle and his feet set in a ready stance. He had no idea where he was or how far from the palace he had walked, but right now that didn't matter. What mattered was the very profound spike of dangerous emotions sheering through the Force around him.

Aggression. Fear. Anger. Panic. Annoyance.

Annoyance?

Jacen's eyes were drawn to the storefront of a nearby building along the moonlit street. It had no windows and the door was closed. He could barely make out the sign above the entrance: Rathe's Lomynaille Cantina. Yes, whatever violent feud he felt stirring was most definitely inside there. With rapid strides Jacen closed the distance to the building and marched inside.

He assessed the situation in a heartbeat. To one side of the dark, grimy cantina two groups of men were facing off. Harsh words were being traded and fists were clenched. Aggression and anger – and it was about to get ugly fast. In the rest of the cantina the other patrons, mostly men but a noticeable number of women too, were scattering and doing their best to get out of the way of the impending melee. Fear and panic – and if things didn't calm down soon it might very well end in a stampede.

At the bar one man sat with his back still to the spectacle. His was the annoyance.

Before Jacen could decide the best course of action, the squabbling drunkards chose for him. One of them threw a punch, which smacked authoritatively into the face of another. Shouts exploded from both sides of the standoff. Another punch flew, and another.

Then one of the combatants drew a blaster.

Faster than the blink of an eye Jacen acted. His lightsaber ignited in his right hand while his left hand reached out with the Force and yanked the blaster from the man's grip. He sliced the pistol in two when it arrived an instant later and used the Force to fling the pieces flying off to clatter into opposite corners of the room. Then he carved a pattern of practice strikes through the air to make sure everyone in the cantina heard the distinctive thrumming of his blade.

"I think," came a very irritated male voice from the bar, "it's time everyone sat down and shut up before you make me do something you'll regret."

Jacen glanced over at his newfound ally, who had a blaster trained on the rowdy group, and grinned. "Yes," he added, affecting his best intimidating Jedi Knight demeanor and tone, "I think it would be a very good idea indeed if everyone took Ambassador Fel's advice."

Even without the Force Jacen would've felt clearly the surprise and awe racing around the silent room. No one in the cantina had probably ever seen a Jedi Knight before, and his brief display of power had been more than enough to convince them not to mess with him. Add to that the now obvious presence of the man who had defended their planet and been honored by their leader, and the patrons of the cantina were dumbstruck.

The men in the two feuding groups stammered apologies, bowed respectfully, saluted in chagrin, or otherwise acted humiliated. Within a few more seconds the men had returned to their seats and were unconvincingly pretending as if nothing had happened. Around the rest of the room the other patrons chuckled and shook their heads, and went back to their own conversations and sabacc games.

Jacen shut down his lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. He tipped his head or smiled to acknowledge the gratitude and respect of those he passed while he made his way to Jag's side at the bar. By the time he got there the stool next to Jag was empty – he had no idea who to thank for clearing the way, not that he would ever have asked the person to move – and he sat down next to his friend.

"Whatcha havin'?"

"Whatever he's having," Jacen told the bartender.

"Heh," the surly man said. "You'll regret it."

Jacen only smiled, then turned to Jag. "So what brings you to this fine establishment?"

"Red ale," Jag replied with entirely too much earnestness. "Took me ten… no, eleven tries to find a place that actually serves red ale."

On cue the bartender smacked down a tall mug of bright red liquid right in front of Jacen. The bartender started to turn away, then spun back. "Hey, bud. You not plannin' to keep up with your pal here, are you?"

Jacen frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Heh." The bartender reached over the wide counter and slapped Jacen on the shoulder. "This stuff? Heh. May the Force be with you, Jedi."

Jacen picked up his mug and sniffed it. Fruity. "I've never heard of red ale."

"It's not Corellian," Jag said with all of their fathers' sincerity that Corellian brands were the only kind worth consuming. "But it is Chiss."

"Chiss?"

Jag pointed at his own mug. "Ale." Very deliberately at Jacen's. "Red." He raised his finger to his face. "Like their eyes."

"Right," Jacen said, trying very hard not to laugh. "So how did the Vikovans get their hands on this, then?"

"Dunno." Jag drank half his mug in a single huge gulp. "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not," Jacen said. He took a shallow drink from his mug – and thought his entire head was about to explode. His mouth blazed. His throat constricted. His eyes dampened. His ears rang with the thunder of the fragmentation grenade detonating inside his skull.

Jag wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "You like?"

Jacen managed to set his mug down without spilling the rest. "Yeow!"

"Heh," the bartender said from halfway down the counter. "Told ya."

"Clawcraft… and red ale… Csilla's finest, both." Jag raised his mug in the air and spun on his stool to face the crowded cantina. "A toast to the Chiss, my friends! I owe them my life. To the Chiss!"

An immediate roar of approval responded, with clinking mugs and applause. "To the Chiss!" the crowd exclaimed in unison, then again when Jag pumped his mug in the air. "To the Chiss!"

"Oo da Fiss!" Jacen said, raising his mug with them.

"Good stuff," Jag said, nodding in delight at Jacen's momentarily numb tongue. "Good stuff."

Jacen blinked away his tears and set down his mug a little further away. About now all he wanted was some protective distance. "All right, so you're here for the red ale. But that doesn't explain why you're here. In some bar. Getting drunk."

"Heh." Jag presumably wasn't aware he'd been listening to the bartender a bit too long. His shoulders slumped and he rested his head in his hands. "Where else should I be?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Jacen leaned in. "Maybe… you know… with my sister?"

"You think I don't want to?" Suddenly Jag's eyes were sharp, his voice precise. "You think I want to be out here alone? Do you?"

"Well… no. Of course not." Jacen reached out and put a comforting hand on Jag's shoulder. "Then why are you here?"

The flash of cogency was gone. "No point… Tried everything… If she doesn't… want me any more then… then I've got to move on. Right?"

"Jag, I'll be honest," Jacen said. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh…"

Jacen waited a long moment. "Um, Jag?"

"Right," his friend said. "Right. See… I asked her to come to Csilla. Meet my family."

"And she said no?"

"Well, she… not so much no, as not yes."

"So what's the –"

"You've been to Csilla," Jag exclaimed suddenly, throwing his arm around Jacen's shoulders. "You've met my family. You're so good to me, Jacen."

"Jag, I –"

"Aren't they great?"

"Your family? Yes, Jag. They are."

"See?" Jag gazed pleadingly at Jacen. "So why wouldn't she want to meet them? They're great!"

"I don't know. Maybe –"

Jag's head flopped down on Jacen's shoulder. "She doesn't want to meet them," he said in the most pathetic voice Jacen had ever heard from anyone, much less a Fel. "And if she doesn't want to meet them… it must mean she doesn't really love me."

"Of course she loves you, Jag," Jacen said, adjusting himself on the stool a bit to make sure Jag's weight wouldn't knock him completely off balance. "That's crazy."

"Is it, Jacen?"

"Yes."

"I dunno." Jag shook his head very elaborately. "I just dunno any more."

"What's gotten into you tonight, Jag?"

"Well, I'd tell you," he said, "but then I'd have to – oh, wait! This is you! I can trust a Jedi to keep a secret, right?"

For a moment Jacen was very afraid of what kind of secret this was going to be, but he took the risk. "Of course, Jag."

Leaning closer, Jag whispered in Jacen's ear. "See, it all started…"

Jacen tried his very best to listen to everything Jag was saying, but it was incredibly difficult. For one thing, Jag was whispering a little too quietly. For another, Jag kept forgetting he had to speak in Basic, not Chiss. On top of that Jag's thoughts weren't exactly progressing in linear fashion. Jacen was in deep trouble. Still, he managed to gather that Jag's crisis had something to do with hyperspace routes, Ambassador Chu'itha, an alliance with Vikova, Iliana wanting something in exchange, Garrett Trace, and Jag owing something to somebody.

Jag leaned away when he finished. "You see my problem?"

"I sure do," Jacen lied. He looked down in horror to see that he unconsciously had finished off his mug of red ale while listening to Jag. That would explain why his mouth stung like a swarm of Yavin IV's poisonous insects had taken up residence inside.

"So if I'm going to lose Jaina anyway… I guess the best thing for everyone is if I just do my duty to the Chiss and marry Iliana."

"What?"

Jag shrugged. "What other choice do I have?"

"Don't be stupid, Jag. You can't really –"

"Maybe it's better this way," Jag said to his empty mug. "Jaina seems to like that Trace guy well enough. I'm sure they'll be really happy together. And I'm sure I'll –"

"Garrett? Have you lost your mind?"

"He'll take good care of her. Maybe not as good as I would have, but –"

"All right, now you're really starting to scare me, Jag." The bartender refilled Jag's mug, but Jacen waved him away from his. "There's nothing between Jaina and Garrett. Nothing."

"Maybe you're right." Jag took a long drink. "It doesn't matter, though, Jacen. If Jaina won't commit to me, then I don't have a choice. I just don't."

"Did you tell this to Jaina? Does she know about this?"

"No. I tried to tell her, but… I never got the chance."

"You have to tell her." Jacen slapped Jag on the shoulder. "Come on, Jag. You can't give up. That's not like you at all. You have to tell her."

"What difference will it make?" Jag shook his head. "I don't want her to be with me just to save me from Iliana. I want her to be with me because she loves me."

"She does!"

"They why won't she just come to Csilla with me?"

Jacen had to think of something, and fast. "I watched you and Jaina together at the fete tonight," he said gently. "Dancing. Talking. It sure looked to me like she loves you very much."

"But that's just the thing," Jag replied forlornly. Then the floodgates opened, even more impressively than a minute earlier. "See… we were dancing… and I had things I needed to tell her, and she had things she wanted to tell me, I know she did, but then when Iliana got there Jaina just left, she just walked away and left me there with Iliana, I don't know why she'd do that, I mean I know Iliana just showed up out of nowhere, and she's got on this dress that shows off her, well, you saw it, like she's just out there for everyone to see and she doesn't care a bit, it's crazy, so she shows up and starts talking on and on about –"

Jacen wondered if Jag was planning to breathe, but he didn't have the heart to interrupt him.

"– who knows what, and all I wanted was for Jaina to rescue me, you know? Wave her pretty little hand and make Iliana walk around making bird noises or something, you know, wow, how funny would that have been, watch Iliana chirping like a bird, chirpy chirp chirp you arrogant fool of a woman! Being a Jedi is so great that way, Jacen, I'm telling you, you guys are really missing an opportunity there with all your rules and codes and all that, you could have some serious fun someday if you wanted to, you know that?"

"Definitely," Jacen said. He glanced down at his half-empty mug of red ale. Half-empty! He hadn't asked for more… And he didn't remember drinking more… Vowing to watch himself more carefully, Jacen pressed on. "But still, Jag, maybe Jaina thought you had to deal with your diplomat things with Iliana?"

"Maybe," Jag said. "But I was sending her signals. I dunno how she could miss them."

"Signals? What kinda signals?"

Jag peered very seriously into Jacen's eyes. "In… the Force."

"If you say so."

"No, really! I was!" Jag whispered in Jacen's ear again. "Lemme tell you another secret. See, when I think really strong thoughts about Jaina she can feel them. So Iliana's there and I start thinking about Jaina and me sneaking away for a debriefing if you know what I mean –"

"Jag…"

"– so I'm thinking about kissing Jaina really hard –"

"Jag."

"– and there's this thing I do with my tongue that just drives her wild –"

"Jag!"

"– and then I slide my hands up to her –"

"JAG!"

"What?"

"She's my sister, Jag. Please, please, please spare me the details?"

"Oh, right. Right!" Jag's hand on his shoulder patted Jacen a few times. "Sorry about that."

Fortunately Jacen was positive the former contents of the half-full mug of red ale had wiped those mental images right out of his mind forever. "Don't worry about it."

"But you see, right? She couldn't have missed those signals."

"I wouldn't think so, no," Jacen conceded. "But there has to be some other explanation, Jag. There just has to be. Jaina is madly in love with you, I know she is."

"Well, she sure she isn't acting like it."

"Jag…"

"Maybe I'm better off without her. Maybe I've waited too long already. Iliana can't be that bad. She has to have some good qualities in there somewhere, right?"

"Come on, Jag! You're not just going to give up, are you?"

"Why not?" Jag smacked his palm on the bar. "Maybe I should."

Jacen took a slow, deep breath. "You're making a big mistake, Jag."

For a long moment he didn't reply. "I know."

"So don't just sit there, do something!"

"What?"

"I don't know. Something!"

Jag hissed out a breath. "Some Jedi insight you've got there, Jacen Solo."

He didn't have any response to that. Not at first. "Hey, I've got it!"

For the first time all night, Jag's face brightened. "You do?"

"Well, it's not Jedi insight, exactly, but it's something, all right!" Jacen leaned in close and whispered in Jag's ear. "Let me tell you a story about the time…"

Jag nodded slowly when he finished. "I have to hand it to you, Jacen. With a few adjustments here and there, it just might work."

"It will work. She'd never be expecting it, not in a million years."

"It does have that going for it," Jag said. He met Jacen's gaze, and the haze in his green eyes was entirely gone. "We will have to keep it a secret."

"No kidding!" Jacen slapped Jag on the back. "I say we get planning right now."

"Yes. We should." Jag braced himself on the bar and stood up on wobbly legs. He tossed down several large denomination aurodium coins and waved a hand to the bartender at the other end of the counter. "Keep the change."

"Think it's safe to say you'll be welcome back here any night," Jacen said. He linked his arm through Jag's and they began to stagger toward the exit. "So… what do we plan first?"

"Ship," Jag said. "First, we need a ship."

"Done."

"Really?"

"Trust me, I've got that figured out already."

"All right." Jag's shoulder smacked into the doorframe as they emerged outside into the chilly nighttime air. "Then next is the… you know… the things… with the…"

"Done," Jacen said. "I'll handle that too."

"You sure?"

"Got it covered." Jacen waggled a finger at his friend. "I'm a Jedi Knight, remember? I have all sorts of connections for things like that."

"Truth be told, I'm a lot more worried about your Solo connections."

"If I didn't know you better, Fel, I'd be insulted."

"Actually…"

They stumbled and nearly toppled over – and burst out laughing.