CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

"What…pened…your captain?" The quarter-sized holoprojection of the leader of Vikova crackled, cutting in and out from some type of subspace interference. Still, there was no question of the alarm in the woman's visible demeanor.

Jaina liked that. She refrained, however, from expressing that sentiment quite yet, and instead remained rigid in her posture, emotionless on her face. At her side, General Fel exhibited an intimidating scowl to emphasize the deadly intent of the charric aimed right for their hapless prisoner's gut. When the man hesitated in responding to Iliana's question, Soontir waved the business end of his weapon to hurry the conversation along.

"He-He was killed in the battle." The space pirate bowed his head not in respect, but shame.

"Killed!" Iliana screeched. None of the effect was lost over the vast distances of space. Abruptly, though, her bearing softened; Jaina decided Iliana probably was stuffing the madwoman back in her box. "That half-human was…abomination to…ature. No great loss."

"But, your Majes- "

"Don't…all me that…ou fool!"

The space pirate bowed again. "Forgive me. I forgot."

Jaina spared a glance to Soontir, and he was conveniently eying her. Their mutual look said, This is too easy.

"Has your…ission failed, then?" Iliana asked.

"Uh…"

Jaina whipped her head back to face the prisoner. The man started to look their way, away from the projector. Perhaps their confidence had been misplaced. She hated to do it, especially in front of Jag's father, but she had no other effective option. Shutting her eyes, she dropped into the Force as easily as a child jumping into the sea.

Tell her, she commanded.

The pirate's mind was easily manipulated. Words slipped from his mouth instantly. "No. The mission was not a complete failure."

Jaina winced; they needed better than that. The mission was a success.

"You captured…jective?" Iliana's question was broken and veiled, but the point was unmistakable. Jaina wanted to throttle the blonde hussy for that alone. At the same time, a sense of protective rage flared from Soontir Fel, so powerful she had to shield herself from its strength.

"Not quite," the pirate replied. Jaina's eyes flew open. What was this fool doing? She wasn't that bad at mind manipulation. "We could not capture the primary objective, but the secondary target was a casualty of the battle."

Secondary target? Jaina considered the coded speech for a moment.

"So she…dead?"

Jaina lunged, but a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks. Expletives and an assortment of foul epitaphs bubbled to her lips, and only her Jedi discipline stayed them too. Soontir squeezed her shoulder gently, then removed his hand and waved off the comms officer who had been affecting the transmission with carefully placed jamming. This was the part he wanted to be very clear on.

The pirate glanced hesitantly across the communications center in Jaina's general direction. His eyes narrowed, and Jaina glared in return while not so subtly handling her lightsaber. The man swallowed, hard, before turning back to the projector.

"Yes. She is dead."

"And the primary objective? What of that?"

"He escaped during the battle. The woman, she gave her life for him."

"Really?" The miniature blue form of Iliana leaned forward, and grinned like a feral sandpanther full on its kill.

The pirate nodded rapidly. "Yes."

"Perfect," Iliana purred.

Soontir, in the meantime, swiped the flat of a hand across his throat.

The pirate, seemingly fully engaged in the production of the charade, continued on. "When can we expect payment for our trou- Hey!"

The holotransmission had flickered, faded to indiscernible galactic fuzz, then blinked out.

"Hey!" the prisoner repeated his protest with a sweep of his hand to the now dormant projector station. "You can't do that."

"Sure we can." Jaina stormed forward and slapped a stuncuff on the outstretched arm. Before the man could protest further, both wrists were secured behind his back.

"Wait a minute! I did exactly what you said."

Shoving the man toward a waiting Chiss guard, Jaina offered, "And we thank you."

The pirate spun to face Soontir Fel. "You see how Jedi treat people like us. This isn't right."

If the man had thought he would find sympathy from the former Imperial, he was sorely mistaken. "And I see how you treated my son, an Ambassador of the Chiss people. That was not right." Soontir swept his hand like he were shooing away some pesky shoikler. "Take him away. We will deal with his punishment later."

The guards ushered the prisoner out of the control room. His exclamations of profound injustice could be heard until the door slid shut.

Jaina prowled the room to alleviate her maddening frustration while Soontir spoke to the communications officer. She had known. Jacen and Shawnkyr had warned them. Even so, she wanted to scream, or hit something, or –

"Are you envisioning the million ways to run Iliana through with that thing?"

Soontir's query snapped Jaina back to the reality of the room. All eyes were on her, and the lightsaber she had been slapping against her palm. "Oh." Jaina quickly snapped it back to her belt. "Yeah. Sorry."

For the first time, Jaina actually saw Jag's father hint to a smile. He held out his hand, indicating the door. "Shall we?"

She tipped her head silently, and together they exited the room. For much of their walk along the Star Destroyer's corridors, Jaina kept quiet. Mostly, she was embarrassed for exhibiting such raw emotion. Worse still, she was worried that her seething mental bashing of Iliana of Vikova – the woman who had tried to have her killed, the woman had who tried to steal her man – would lead to another humiliating spectacle.

Poor Jag, she thought. Mom. Dad. Meet my Jedi brat.

"Jaina?"

She stopped and looked to her right. Nobody. Then a little back. Soontir stood, waiting in the entrance to a side corridor. "Oh. Sorry." She looked back the way she had been going, the way to the infirmary, to Jag, then back to his father. "Aren't we going to see Jag?"

With his solid frame and legs set a bit apart, Soontir Fel cut an imposing figure, bigger and fuller than Jag. His one eye was usually dark and brooding, but right now it sparkled. He nodded his head down the hall's length. "Come with me."

Soontir didn't wait. Jogging to catch up, Jaina began to understand what Jag had said so many times. With my father, it is never a request.

As soon as she fell in step he said, "You know my son. Jag will be demanding the latest update as soon as we arrive."

Jaina glanced up, walking in large strides to keep up with Soontir's long, uneven gait. "You're right. He should rest, if we are to return –"

"You worry."

"How could I not? Iliana's obviously had her sights on him from the beginning. She's a treacherous –"

When she stopped abruptly, the aging Corellian glanced down at her. "A treacherous…?"

Jaina blushed.

He chuckled. "In Chiss, it would be guant'no banahs."

"Jag hasn't shared that one. What does it mean?"

Soontir bent over and whispered the translation in Jaina's ear. Her breath left in a sudden cough. "Now that's an insult. Wait until I tell my Dad."

"You will do no such thing, Jaina Solo." When the silly amusement fell from Jaina's face, though, he erupted in deep throaty laughter. "You would ruin my starchy reputation for sure."

"Oh. Right. Wouldn't want to do that." The corner of her mouth curled up in a grin. "Wait until I tell Jag what I learned in Chiss."

Jaina felt the warmth of chagrin before it registered on the general's normally stern face.

"Maybe you had better not reveal that one to Jag quite yet either," Soontir said.

"Really?"

"Yes. Really." He paused. "Syal has never been one for foul language or excessive cursing."

"But she married a pilot."

"She thought she was marrying a gentleman."

They both laughed. Soontir stopped at a bank of turbolifts and called for one. He looked at the floor, seemingly a bit uneasy until the lift arrived. Once inside he turned to address her.

"I wish Syal could have met you, Jaina. We have known about you for some time. And known you were the reason Jag stayed away from the Unknown Regions."

Now Jaina felt uneasy. "I'm sorry. I never meant to keep –"

"No. No. Don't apologize." He laid a hand on her shoulder, and met Jaina's wondering stare. "You have made Jagged happier than we could ever have hoped."

"But I'm a Solo and a Rebel. And it seems I haven't made him very happy these last few years."

"For one, Jaina, there is nothing wrong with being a Solo. Your father was only as driven as I. We were rivals, not enemies. And perhaps you have forgotten, but I was a Rebel for a time myself. Most of all, if you could see the difference in my son's eyes, like I do, every time you walk in that medward, something that has never been in them before, you would know how utterly happy he is. Some day, I hope you return to Chiss space so Syal can see that love in Jagged's eyes as well."

For all her one-liners and mouthy retorts, Jaina was at a complete loss for words. Save one lone tear that escaped her watery eyes. She batted it away, self-consciously. "Thanks."

With that, the turbolift door swished open and Soontir walked out. "So have you figured out why I've brought you down to the bowels of the ship?"

Jaina surveyed their surroundings. "An auxiliary hangar maybe? Still stumped, I'm afraid."

Stopping at large bulkhead, he nodded. "You and Jag will need to make haste back to Vikova now that the tuskcat is out of the bag. So I have arranged for some speedy transportation. I just wanted to be sure you were familiar with this class of craft."

The reminder of the devastation to Mara's ship made Jaina's stomach flop and her pulse quicken. In a nervous habit she rubbed the back of her head. "Yeah. I suppose we'll need some sort of transport."

Soontir donned a concerned expression. "What is wrong, Jaina? You look ill."

"You've met my aunt, right?"

"Unfortunately."

"So you understand."

"Her ship?"

Jaina nodded, barely.

Soontir tapped the door controls. "Well, I am sure she will forgive you." The hangar doors swished open. "You are her niece, after all."

He might have said more, or maybe not. All Jaina knew was that the Shadow sat, perfect and gloriously shiny, in the center of a small hangar bay. She must have flown across the floor, because within a second her hand was caressing the sleek edges and her trained eye was testing for any flaw. Jaina roamed around the large vessel, awed and overcome with emotion. It was just so –

"Hey." A stern voice drew Jaina's eyes to a pair of leg descending the extended ramp. "How many times have I warned you to not touch the ship." The legs turned into a well-dressed torso. Then a silver-streaked beard. Last a familiar face whose grim expression broke instantly into a smile.

"Uncle Karrde!" she exclaimed, jumping into his arms.

"Hi, kiddo." He hugged her, then stepped back and tossled her hair.

"I can't believe…" Jaina stared up at the Shadow again, speechless.

"I can't believe you did all that to Mara's ship, young lady."

Her hands went to her hips. "I did this? Now that's where you're wrong. Jacen's the one who's responsible for starting this whole mess."

Karrde chuckled and acknowledged Soontir's arrival with a dip of his head. "Good old Jaina. Some how Jacen always got blamed for everything."

"He always was the gullible one."

"She was such a cute little girl. I don't know what happened to her," the smuggler said to Soontir.

"Did you do this?" Jaina asked Jag's father.

Soontir pointed at Karrde. "No, he did."

Jaina couldn't help herself and wrapped her arms around Soontir's broad frame. "Thank you," she said into the fabric of his perfectly pressed uniform.

Surprisingly, two powerful arms engulfed her in return. "No. Thank you, Jaina."