Chapter 32

The words on the datapad swam before her tired eyes, and Jaina leaned over her desk to rest her head on her forearm. She hated paperwork. And it seemed that's all she had been doing lately. Reports, reports, and more reports. That, and sit pointlessly on the bridge while her staff worked and stare at Bastion, pretending she was actually helping somehow. She hated this.

Perhaps it was the thought that it was all she would been doing for the next eight months, but it was still torturous. She had half a mind to load all of her already meager responsibilities onto a subordinate and spend her days in the training room with Mara.

That was one aspect of the 'maternity lockdown' as Jaina and Mara had come to jokingly call it that had both succeeded and failed. It seemed with Mara there Luke had been unable to stay away, and Mara unable to stay period. She would take one-day jaunts to neighboring systems to return that night exhausted. Jaina cautioned her that she needed to conserve her energy, but she had said she had never been good at staying in one place too long. Jaina had simply shaken her head and said no more.

But the visits from Luke had persisted in their frequency until Mara had to threaten him to take care of the Jedi or she would go on vacation without telling him where. The whole episode had been rather comical, but Jaina had found humor almost intangible lately. Whether it was the hormones, Jag's absence, or the fact she was trapped on a Star Destroyer with nothing to do, she wasn't sure. But still she was bored out of her skull and had trouble seeing things in a positive light.

Except for Hanna. Sensing her daughter's daily growth and development was nothing short of a phenomenon for Jaina. It was as if the process of life was unfolding before her very eyes, flourishing in its summer. Not only physically, but spiritually. Her Force-sense increased in leaps and bounds, matching her body's ontogeny step for step. It was miraculous to wake up each morning and find what had happened to her child overnight. Fingers, toes, ears, organs...the whole experience of pregnancy was breathtaking.

In this she enjoyed having Mara as company the most. Her child—who had been identified as a son—was progressing as any normal fetus would despite his mother's illness. Mara spent hours a day devoting her sole attention to warding off the virus from her reproductive system and sending what nourishment she had to the placenta. It put a visible strain on Mara's own health, but it was a sacrifice Jaina could well understand. The thought of anything threatening Hanna was enough to evoke such ferocity in Jaina it scared her sometimes.

Light, almost imperceptible footsteps trained in the art of espionage echoed softly off the deck behind Jaina. She had felt Mara's approach long before then, but didn't turn until her aunt was directly behind her. She smiled at the older woman, but it was somewhat dampered by the sight of her. Her hair was limp and her skin pasty, and the lines around her mouth and eyes had grown more pronounced in the past few weeks. Jaina's heart ached and a knot formed in her throat but she swallowed quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice Jaina's distress. "What brings you to this side of the ship?"

Mara smiled tightly. "I'm bored, what else? But you and Luke threw such a fit last time I went off somewhere I thought better of it. So I came here to take you along."

Jaina shook her head. "You know my place is here."

"On the ship, yes. But they don't need you up here. You're just a figurehead." Jaina had know that of course, but hearing it spoken so straightforwardly made her wince. "Come spar with me, or something. I'm going to go stir crazy if you don't."

Jaina smiled at Mara's brutal honesty. There was something appealing about the unadulterated truth she presented, and Jaina could do nothing but appreciate it. "All right. But only because you asked so nicely."

They never made it to the sparring room. Half way there Mara convinced Jaina to go to the surface shopping with her. Her excuse was that they needed to start shopping for the babies. It was too tempting an offer to pass up, even for duty-bound Jaina.

They took the Jade Sabre down into the city, and from there walked to a small shop filled with every imaginable infant care product imaginable. "I can't believe they actually expect us to believe a baby could possible need this much stuff," Mara commented as she examined a rack covered in tiny clothes.

Jaina smiled. "How do you know they don't?"

Mara gave her a funny look. "How can something so small need more clothes than me?"

Jaina shrugged. "I don't know. I've never had a kid before. What are we supposed to buy?"

Mara chewed on her lower lip. "Well...it'll probably need somewhere to sleep. We should buy a crib."

Her face blossomed at the suggestion. "Oh, a baby bed."

They searched the store over before each finding something suitable. Mara's was a light blue crib with soft sculpted wooden side rails and repulsorlifts. She had chosen it within five minutes and spent the rest of the time helping Jaina. She had finally decided on a white oval shaped bassinet almost resembling an egg cut lengthwise with soft purple cushioning covering the inside.

She felt a little guilty doing the shopping without Jag, but what was to be done? She couldn't very well wait until he came back before buying anything. There would just be some things he couldn't partake in, and Jaina had to resign herself to that.

She wondered if he thought of her as much as she did him. She was constantly worrying over how he was doing and whether or not he was growing any closer to finding his brother. His messages thus far had been short and to the point, mostly telling how he loved her and that he wished he was there with her. Little was said about what was actually going on. Jaina supposed he was too busy.

If standing at full height, the water would have been somewhere around Jag's upper chest. But as it was, he slid low under the surface, just letting his eyes skim the filmy water. Special blasters had been designed for just such an occasion. They were built with tiny floaters under the bottom, letting them buoy without any effort on Jag's part. His hand fingered the trigger nervously, but he was careful to make no swift movements that could cause ripples, giving away their position.

Slowly he turned his head to observe the rest of his outfit. Stormtroopers waded silently through the swamp, their white armor camouflaged a matte brown-green. Above him the long aimless branches of an enormous willow dropped onto the surface of the water, hiding them behind a veil of pale green. To his right Jaina's brother Anakin crouched on a protruding root, as still as stone. His only movement was a slight flickering of his fingertips as he caressed the hilt of his lightsaber. Ice blue eyes scanned the curtain of the willow branches, searching for something Jag couldn't see.

This was a mission whose success was vital. Here was where the information Jag had been searching for lay. If he could get to that grotto without being caught—

But no, that was impossible. The Vong had been alerted early to the Imperial presence on Ramella and now Jag and his strike team were the ones being hunted. Having Anakin and the other Jedi along was the only godsend. Even though the Yuuzhan Vong were impervious to the Force, the Jedi reflexes and intuition were unmatched. If he made it out alive, Jag would need to remember to thank Luke again for his help.

A movement from Anakin caught Jag's eye. Anakin brought one hand up to his lips, calling for continued silence. Then he pointed upwards. Jag's trigger finger twitched, then he nodded slowly. Anakin leaped noiselessly from his perch onto a higher branch and silently made his way up the rest of the tree. Reconnoitering, Jag supposed. He turned his sights back to the area outside his vision. With painstaking slowness he inched to the edge of the veil and poked the end of his blaster through it. It opened a tiny window for him to peer through.

Outside was nothing but the roots, branches and trunks of other trees like the one he was taking refuge under. At least at first glance. But after staring for at least five minutes he noticed something. A movement under the bulge of a root, a ripple of water. Jag's finger twitched again. Without telling anyone where he was going, Jag slipped under the murky swamp water and moved outside the safety of his group. Holding his breath, he continued on for perhaps twenty meters before barely breaking the surface.

Luckily he came up under the shade of another tree. Wiping a hand over his hair Jag looked around. He waded warily through the cover of the branches, searching for the spot he had seen the movement. He stopped slowly when he saw it, keeping his blaster trained on the spot. Cautiously, he approached. There was no sign of life as he wept towards his target, be that only increased his anxiousness. He had seen something. Now he just needed to kill it before it saw him.

Or perhaps there was a better way. They had thus far been unsuccessful in capturing a live Yuuzhan Vong. It would be a tremendous victory if he somehow could. But the problem was they had proved to be infuriatingly resistant to stun bolts. The best course of action would probably be to set his power setting as low as possible and shoot to injure instead of kill. With a flick of his wrist he pulled back on the small lever, dialing it all the way back. Jag could only think afterwards that it had been the click of the device that had given him away.

A being shot from the water almost beneath him, head writhing in what appeared to Jag to be snakes. Intellectually, he knew it was the headdress of a Shaper, but at the time such things did not occur to him. The female Vong hissed and reached for his throat as a war cry leaped from its lips. "Do'roik Vong pratte!"

Before Jag could even think to fire she was on him, driving him under the surface. Sharp fingernails akin to talons sunk into the front of his uniform. They ripped open his shirt, searching for the flesh within. Once there they had no trouble gouging deep into his pectorals, tearing away the fibers. Jag screamed, but it did nothing more than give him a mouthful of water. The claws continued their search, hunting for the vulnerable cartilage between his ribs. The found purchase there, penetrating his rib cage and wrapping around the rib itself. Her intent became clear then. She was literally going to rip open his chest cavity.

Fear stuck in his throat and Jag remembered his blaster. Without thought or emotion he shoved the business end of the weapon under the torso armor and fire twice. Her muscles slackened and unheeding Jag ripped her fingers out of his flesh. He screamed as he did so, surfacing. He hadn't realized until he took his first breath that his lungs had been burning.

The shaper floated beside him in a pool of their intermingled blood, diluted in the swamp. His breathing was labored, his chest spitting hot blood. He grabbed the wound, wondering how it was possible to staunch such a wound in his position. For the moment it didn't hurt as bad as it inevitably would, his adrenaline was still pumping. He needed to act before it slackened.

Jag waded to the floating shaper, searching for any sign of life. Surprisingly, her pulse was still strong. Knowing what he had to do, Jag threw the body over his shoulder and loudly sloshed into the open, heedless of the danger. He had made it half way back to his company when Anakin appeared in front of him, having swam out into the open. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed, eying Jag's wound and the limp shaper. Wordlessly Jag tossed the body to him.

"Carry this," he instructed as he struggled the rest of the way back. The hanging branches parted for him, stormtrooper faces peeking out and helping him inside. It seemed with every beat of his heart the adrenaline was wearing off and the pain increasing. The spurting from his chest cavity did nothing to assuage this. He was led to a root and lifted up onto it. Anakin appeared over him, looking concerned as he pulled away the remaining shreds of his uniform.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Jag winced as fingers brushed his wound. "I saw her. Someone had to go get her."

"You didn't even tell anyone!" Anakin admonished. He was obviously drawing on the Force, because when he touched the gash the pain momentarily eased. "I should probably put you in a healing trance," he muttered.

Jag stubbornly shook his head. "Just stitch me up."

Anakin scowled at him. "You have some serious muscle damage here, Jag."

Jag gritted his teeth. "The shaper. Will she live?"

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Who gives a kriff?"

"I do! I almost died so we could have a live captive. You keep her alive, damn it!"

For a moment he thought Anakin might object, then he nodded minutely. "Commander
Eliab, get those medics on the shaper. Make sure she lives, at all costs."

"What about Jag?" he asked.

"I'll take care of that," Anakin said. "Just make sure she lives."

"Unserstood, Sir."

Anakin smirked, and Jag supposed it was at being called 'sir' by someone almost ten years his senior. But it was hard for Jag to think of Anakin as being that young sometimes, too. He was so mature in thinking and appearance. How old was he anyway? Fourteen? No more than fifteen, Jag was sure. Damn it, he was just a child.

"Okay, Jag," he said, "I'm not the healer in the family."

"Jacen," Jag muttered.

Anakin smiled in a way that made him look heartbreakingly like Jaina. "Yeah, Jaina's no miracle-worker either." Jag smiled in silent disagreement, but let him continue. "But I can do my best. I have to tell you, this would work a lot better if you would just let me put you in a healing trance."

"No time," he gritted.

"I know, that's what you say. So just try to relax and think about healing things. Uncle Luke said that helps a lot of times."

Jag nodded and closed his eyes. An image of Jaina rose to the surface of his mind's eye. He saw her in the darkness of the night, hair spilled over the pillow, blissfully asleep. Her chest rose and fell lightly and soft breath fell from slightly parted lips. Jag's heart raced at the thought. His mid began to drift further, but suddenly he was jerked back to consciousness.

"Alright, I stopped the internal bleeding and got your skin to graft back together, but I don't have the time or energy to repair the muscle damage right now."

Jag looked down at his chest, and sure enough the cuts were gone. It still hurt like nothing else, but the pain he could handle. "Thank you," he said, sitting up.

Anakin dropped back down into the water, which came up almost to his chin. "No problem. Just next time, try not think about having sex with my sister. Really gross."

Jag just laughed as he pulled on a new tunic and prepared for the coming escape.