Chapter 14: Tilt

Varen smiled falsely and dipped his shaved head in compliance to hide a petty grimace. He had known bringing her into this had been a mistake, yet he had yielded stupidly to the demands of his men. So here he stood, in his own office—however inelegant and dingy it may be—as she sat oddly in his command chair and observed him with self-important dignity. "I admit I was a little surprised you wanted my help, Varen," she smiled in that curious way. "Since it took six months for you to answer my message. I was beginning to think you had cut me from the plan entirely. But you have to know I do nothing unless it suits my own purposes these days. And I really don't see anything you have that I need."

He raised his head, keeping the smile fixed. "That remains to be seen. And I am in need of your services. Jagged Fel has become a problem when he shouldn't be. I am probably worrying needlessly, but I would rather the threat be eliminated. I need to know how to catch him, and how to remove Chak if at all possible. For reasons you know better than I."

The mistress of murder stroked her peaked face thoughtfully and leaned forward over the desk. "Chak Fel was once a thing to be feared. If he recalled the events on the Kazul Lah I doubt you would remain safe for long." Varen noted she remained conspicuously absent from the pilot's proposed hit list, but refrained from pointing that out. "But what is the likelihood in that? You blundered when you went after the brother, Varen. And now you want me to clean up the mess you've made, am I right?"

He never admitted defeat, but in the presence of this enigmatic creature he could never muster enough nerve to disagree with her. Varen may be a pirate, a crook, and a malefic, but no fool. "Whatever it takes," he sighed. "Now name a price."

She grinned in a way that reminded him of a mischievous child, the kind that liked to catch bugs and then pull off their legs one at a time. "That's something I'll have to think on. What did you have in mind?"

He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Do you need money? Slaves? Spice? I can provide any of that."

She laughed in a surprisingly bell-toned way, pressing her thin fingers together in front of her face. "Such a foolish boy. I require a very different sort of payment." She paused, glassy eyes twinkling. "I want to know about the Skywalkers."

Varen raised his bushy brows and chuckled sarcastically. "Isn't every other holodocumentary in this galaxy about the Skywalkers and Solos?"

She leaned back in the chair, head tilted to one side. "You misunderstand. I already know their history. I want to know how to change it."

Varen had never paid a great deal of attention to the galaxy's first family until Fel had married one of the Solo's. But he did know that Fel had at least one child with her, and Skywalker had a son back during the war, too. Ben, was it? "Ben Skywalker is the future of their family, and the Jedi too, I suppose."

She seemed perturbed at the suggestion. "How am I supposed to change their history through a child who is guarded day and night by an assassin and a Jedi Master? Give me something a little more doable."

Varen was beginning to get quite irritated with the whole situation and braved the danger to challenge her request. "What do you want with them anyway?"

Her brow ridge rose slightly. "They have ruined every greatness this galaxy was ever destined for. I intend to right that wrong."

He grunted, getting the feeling he wouldn't want to know more. "Well, Jagged Fel has a daughter with one of the Solo's. She's part Skywalker. And I was sending a team in to eliminate her and the mother anyway."

She smiled in that peculiar way again, sending a shiver up his spine even as the feathers of her crest raised in excitement. "Don't kill the girl just yet. I have a feeling she could satisfy both of our needs."

"And what about Fel?" Varen pressed bravely. "How are you going to help me find him?"

Her beak clacked together purposefully. "I don't think that will be much of a problem. He'll be looking for you. We just make sure he gets the resources to find you."

There were few things in the known galaxy that could throw fear into the heart of Jaina Solo Fel, but a visit from her mother was one of them. One thing Jaina had failed to consider when she had volunteered for house confinement was that now her mother knew every second of every day where she was and what she was doing, and was not at all opposed to making unexpected visits. Though over the weeks somewhat of a schedule had been developed, enough so that around certain times of the day Jaina prepared herself for the maelstrom that followed Leia like a shadow.

Today was going to be somewhat easier, at least she hoped. Mara had taken Hanna for the day, let the child get out and play some with Ben. Davin was spending the day with his uncles, who had stopped by early and offered to babysit and 'bond'. It would be easy to think this act of mercy had been done out of the kindness of their own hearts but Jaina was rather inclined to believe Mara had planted the seeds in that oh-so-forceful way of hers. Even so, Jaina had no intentions of objecting to a day off in her never-ending stream of child rearing.

So when Leia did arrive, precisely at 1300 hours as expected, her rebellious Jedi daughter was waiting, for once rested and prepared, lounging on the settee. "Jaina," Leia smiled as she swept into the room, her white robes of state angelically billowing around her still-lithe form. Whatever else her mother may be, Jaina thought, she would be lucky to age as gracefully as her. Instead of wearing the lines of time and hardship as a shame they were Leia's crowning glory, a noble dignity complementing the new gray lacing her rich brown mane. "How are the children today?"

"The same as they were yesterday," Jaina smiled, somehow finding a rare moment of amusement in what had become routine. "Mara's babysitting Hanna. She took her and Ben to the Ithorian Gardens. Davin's spending the day with Jacen and Anakin. I thought they needed to get out."

Leia nodded her approval, gracefully perching on the edge of the couch beside Jaina. "Good. They shouldn't suffer for your bad choices."

Jaina rolled her eyes and smiled tiredly. "I stand by my choices. You know that. When are you going to give it up?"

"You know," Leia began, ignoring her, "if you and Jagged had stayed on Csilla during the war, if you had done as you were told and stuck to the plan we had set out this wouldn't be happening. You would be rich and prosperous and respected. Your family would be stable."

"Or we might all be Yuuzhan Vong slaves," Jaina countered. "Who can say? I stick with my decision to leave. It was the right thing."

"Let's not bicker over the past," Leia said, making it clear she had the final word in the matter. "If we must disagree let it be over something worthwhile, like the welfare of my grandchildren."

Here we go, Jaina sighed inwardly. "Alright. What new accusation am I facing today?"

"Not an accusation," Leia scoffed. "That's such an ugly word. Just a suggestion. No. A proposition."

Jaina was starting to get worried. She could tell by the diplomatic mask, the tone of her voice and set of her shoulders that this was no idle 'suggestion' like all the others had been. Leia wanted something, and she meant to get it. "What do you mean?" Jaina asked, eyes narrowing. Perhaps she had been wrong about today being more relaxed. The Force was prickling her skin with a sense of dread. Something was about to be said that would change everything.

Leia turned a few degrees so they were face to face, mother to daughter. "I've never held my tongue when it came to what I thought of your life decisions, but it has of yet to make any impact. This time, though, there is more riding on you than your own skin. There are two other lives under your care. This is no sort of existence for them."

"There's nothing I can do right now, Mother," she told her. "Jag is gone and until he straightens all this out I have to make the best of things here."

"If he's as innocent as you claim, why haven't you been able to prove it yet?" Leia demanded.

Jaina had no idea where this was going, but she was starting to get angry. "I can't even leave here! I can't help him because I'm stuck in this damned apartment!"

Leia tilted her head to one side thoughtfully, her gaze unsettling Jaina—who at some point had stood during her exclamation. "These walls shouldn't hold back a Jedi," she observed gently, in a much more reasonable tone than Jaina would have expected.

Jaina sat in a huff, resting her head in her palm. "You know I stay for my children. Even if Jag does need me, my obligation is to be there for them. Where would they go if I left Coruscant?"

Leia shifted again, an expression of utter sincerity blanketing her countenance. "Give Hanna to me."

Jaina balked at her for a moment, unable to believe her ears. Had the woman who hadn't even wanted to raise her own children just asked to be given guardianship over someone else's? "You have to be kidding," she snorted. "There's no way I'm giving my daughter to you."

Leia was unperturbed. "I would offer to take little Davin as well but you know I was never good with infants."

"Mother," Jaina insisted forcefully, "I am not letting you have my daughter. This is my duty. I'm her mother. I can't just pass that kind of obligation onto someone else because it's not convenient."

"I don't mean permanently," Leia asserted. "Just until you can fix this ditch you've dug for yourself. You shame not only yourself and my grandchildren with this scandal, but me as well. Go and fix it."

It took a few moments for the words to really sink in. When they did, a twisted sort of amusement overcame Jaina and she couldn't help but smile. "Are you, Leia Organa Solo, suggesting that I break out of here? That I undermine your vaulted laws, with your own help? Is that what you're saying?"

The Chief of State kept her eyes fixed on the floor. "Of course not. I was simply suggesting that I would be willing to take care of my granddaughter if you ever require me to do so. And that something might be done about your circumstances. Whatever you decide to do with that information is your business."

However unlikely it was that Jaina would ever leave her children alone with their grandmother, the suggestion itself was enough to make her giggle. "I can't believe it. All nine Corellian hells just froze over."

Leia's eyes lit up like the fires over Tatooine. "So you will do it?"

Slowly but stubbornly Jaina shook her head. "I'd have to be a bigger idiot than Jacen's become to leave you in charge of the raising of my daughter. But it's a good suggestion. You've raised a good point. It's something I'll need to think on."

They faced off for another few heartbeats before Leia stood, obviously disappointed. "Fine. A few more weeks in here and I'm willing to bet my offer is going to look quite a bit sweeter. Let me know when you change your mind."

Jaina stayed where she was and watched her leave in a stately huff. She worried thoughtfully at her lower lip, imagining how much more quickly the whole mess could be resolved if she could be out there with Jag. Not only that, but a chance for her to bond with Jag again the way they once had. For her to make a difference instead of dinner.

It certainly was something to be considered.

Something else to think on was why Leia had offered something like that. It was completely out of character to for her, and so needed careful scrutiny. There had to be something she gained by getting temporary custody of Hanna, besides her company of course. Before Jaina had been sent to live with Luke, Leia had often tried to turn Jacen and Jaina into some sort of trophy, like perfect little children she could show off to the galaxy as proof of their equally perfect family. Is that what she wanted to do with Hanna?

Jaina had no intention of finding out.

The doorbell rang suddenly, surprising her. Neither Mara or her brothers should be back this early, and since Leia was come and gone she had no idea who it could be. If it had been her uncle she would have sensed his presence from a block away, such a beacon of light in the Force was he.

Unhappy at having her day of peace once again interrupted, Jaina marched to the door and slapped the release. On the other side stood Ismene Banks, hand poised to once again press the ringer. "Oh, Jaina," she smiled. "I was beginning to think you weren't home." She laughed heartily at her own joke but Jaina remained unmoved. Seeing Jaina wasn't diverted, Ismene halted her chuckles and asked earnestly, "Can I come in?"

Jaina moved out of the way, letting the doctor in. Why this woman persisted in bothering her when clearly her services were no longer needed Jaina couldn't say. She also couldn't tell why it aggravated her so that she did. "What can I do for you?" she sighed, attempting civility. She took a seat at the kitchen table and offered for Ismene to do the same.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something," Ismene began. "It's nothing huge, just a small favor. I hired a woman a few months ago named Danni Quee. She's a brilliant chemist and excels in biology as well, but she's distracted so easily. I've asked her about it and she claims that there's just a lot on her mind." Ismene paused, examining her own perfectly manicured fingernails. "But I know that look she gets. It's the look of someone in love with no hope of being loved in return. As far as I know, she was in a long relationship with your brother before she came to work in the clinic. Am I right?"

Jaina nodded sadly, running a frustrated hand through her unbrushed hair. "Damn," she muttered. It wasn't all that surprising, really. When Danni had left Jacen, Jaina had secretly cheered the woman's resolve. Jacen was foolish to let her go, someone who had loved him so deeply and faithfully. He wouldn't find that again easily. It was his own fault and even if Jaina hated to see him in pain it was a life lesson he had to learn. The fact that everyone around him had tried to tell him had had no effect. But she had fervently hoped that Danni had found someone who could love her like Jacen hadn't. She deserved that at least. To know the poor girl was still pining after him made Jaina sick.

Ismene breathed loudly through her nose. "So I thought maybe you could help me. I don't want to lose Danni, she's one of the best partners I've ever had. I'll be hard pressed to find someone with more lab experience than her. But if she continues on like this I'm going to have to let her go."

"What do you want me to do?" Jaina questioned.

"Talk to your brother," Ismene stated flatly. "Perhaps if they were together again this whole thing would resolve itself. It would benefit your brother as well as my business."

Jaina laughed shortly and without humor. "Yeah, well, good luck with that. If all our prodding hasn't moved him yet it's not going to do any good now. He's miserable without her but says he'll be even more so if he marries her. There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry you wasted your time coming up here." Jaina stood then, signifying her wish for the guest to depart.

Ismene hesitated and pursed her lips before following suit. "So am I," she sighed. Straightening her hair with her fingers, Ismene looked back over her shoulder at Jaina and asked, "I was sorry to hear about Jagged. But you probably made the right choice. He didn't seem very happy rotting away in that cell." She smiled faintly and turned to leave, but Jaina interrupted her departure suddenly.

"Hang on a second," Jaina snapped, suspicious. "How would you know how he seemed?"

Her champagne eyes grew large and afraid. Jaina sensed her nervousness like the pulse off a nuclear explosion. "I—um—well, you see—" she stammered, hands continuing to frantically comb through her hair.

Jaina grabbed her agitated fingers in a vice grip and jerked her forward so quickly all the doctor could do was squeal in protest. They were face to face then, eye to eye. Jaina saw the dread in her and used it as a confirmation. Suddenly things made sense, all the little mysteries surrounding the woman. Why she kept coming back, why she blushed when Jag was mentioned, why there always seemed to be a sense of guilt about her. There were other incongruities too, but Jaina was too furious to think about them. "You love him," she hissed in her face, astounded by the revelation and feeling ill to the deepest depths of her soul. "Don't you?"

Ismene opened her mouth as if to protest. Jaina didn't give her the chance. She let go of her hand with a violent shove, pushing her out the open hatch and into the hall outside the apartment. She hit the wall on the other side with a resounding thud. Jaina followed her into the corridor and the hatch to the suite closed in her wake. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she yelled loud enough to rouse the neighbors on the floor above them.

Ismene recovered quickly, some sort of indignant scandalized expression taking the place of her terror. "I don't know what you're talking about, but you have absolutely no business treating me this way."

Had Jaina been a weaker soul this would have been an excellent time to give into the urges of the dark side, but she held firm. "I have no business? You kriffing little slut of a Hutt. I ought to—"

"Now hang on just one damned minute!" the doctor snapped, shoving an accusing finger in Jaina's face. "I don't know how you treat everyone else around you, but you will not speak to me this way, despite whatever concerns you may have. You can address me formally and—"

Jaina didn't even know of her own intention to strike Ismene until the echoing crack of her blow sounded down the corridor and into her own ears. The palm of her hand burned, and a fiery eruption had formed on the doctor's cheek. Her mouth gaped at Jaina as her hand clutched the sizeable welt. Her head shook slowly from side to side in an unbelieving gesture. "You fragging—"

Jaina hit her again. They were rolling on the floor in a tangle of limbs and hair when the security arrived.

Anakin held his nephew high above his head and wiggled the small babe playfully, bouncing him in his hands. Davin cooed and giggled, smiling toothlessly down at him. Anakin smiled back. "You like that? Uncle Luke used to lift me with the Force, and fly me around the room. Slowly, though, of course. And I was much bigger than you. I'm not sure Jaina would appreciate me risking it, so we'll just have to settle for this, hmm?"

Jacen watched them out of the corner of his eye, smiling to himself. "I love how you talk to him like he understands you."

Anakin grinned knowingly. "How do we know he doesn't?" He looked back down at the bundle in his hands, instinctively dodging in and out of the masses on the catwalk. "Jaina has the same genes we do. And any kid related to me has to be just, you know, phenomenal."

Jacen laughed loudly, throwing back his head at the suggestion. The people around them stared, but he didn't care. They kept up their pace. "You know, if your head was any bigger we might not be able to get it through the door."

His little brother didn't protest, just continued his one sided conversation with the baby. Jacen turned his eyes outward, watching the noonday sun glint off the mirrored buildings covering every square inch of the planet. Traffic was heavy, both on foot and in the air. He bit his lower lip, unsure of the path Anakin had convinced him to take. It's not that he didn't want to see his old friend, he just wasn't sure a relationship was even possible for him right then. He had given Danni his heart years ago, and she had taken it with her when she left.

But Anakin's reasoning was sound, anyway. Tenel Ka was a queen with responsibilities. She wouldn't want to get into anything serious either, if she even still felt that way about him. It shouldn't be awkward seeing her again because they both had so many things going against them it was highly unlikely anything would happen. He could go and visit her as a friend with the knowledge that if he did find he was still attracted to her, nothing would ever come of it. It was a hopeless cause. Jacen drew comfort from that, at least.

The towering hotel complex appeared ahead of them. It was a spacious inn known for luxurious guests and accommodations, and Tenel Ka was a regular patron when visiting Coruscant. Unlike the other Jedi, her queenly duties permitted her from living simply in the Temple during her stays. It would have been unseemly to her court of advisors, but Jacen didn't begrudge her that. Rather, he was proud of her for sacrificing the plain existence of a Dathomiri warrior she loved.

"Nervous?" Anakin prodded as they waited for the turbolift to arrive. He switched Davin to his other hip, and Jacen had to restrain himself from laughing. Under his Jedi robes was a lightsaber, two blasters, and a vibroblade. His demeanor was strong and masculine, and bouncing a baby around was so very out of character with the persona his brother emitted.

"No," he answered a bit stiffly to hide his amusement. The lift opened and they both went inside. Anakin pushed the button, and the lift took off.

"Good," his brother agreed. "It's just Tenel Ka, after all."

"Right," Jacen agreed. No reason to be nervous. No reason at all.

The lift opened to a ample great room, a thick cream carpet covering the floor and a hefty chandelier dangling overhead. Anakin gleefully pointed out the monstrosity to Davin, who stared at it wide eyed. But Jacen wasn't looking at the royal furnishings. His gaze was instead on the woman appearing from a connected room, her long red hair no longer bound in a mass of braids, but loose and flowing. Her smile outshone the mammoth chandelier as she spotted them. Regardless of the mass of pleated skirts, she came to them at a dead run. "Jacen my friend!"

He didn't have the air to reply, her headlong run into his arms had knocked the breath from him. He coughed and pulled away a bit—just a bit—and beamed down at her. "Tenel Ka, you look fabulous."

She grinned and punched his shoulder painfully. "So do you. Very Jedi-esque."

He struck a playful pose, pulling what Jaina and he had always called Uncle Luke's "Stuffy Jedi Face". She giggled at his antics, then turned on Anakin. "Anakin Solo! If you haven't grown since I last saw you!"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so. I was fourteen when the war ended."

She smiled at him again, gray eyes glistening in merriment. "And who is this little one?" she winked at Davin. "Tell me you and Danni didn't have a baby and I didn't even know it!"

He shook his head. "Nope, sorry to disappoint. This is Davin Fel, the newest addition to my sister's growing brood."

She clicked her tongue in the back of her throat wistfully. "How the time does fly. My, my, he is a handsome fellow, isn't he? He looks like Jaina."

Jacen nodded his agreement, but Anakin interjected, "Really, I thought he kinda looked like me?"

She pursed her lips in mock reproach, but quickly returned her full attention to Jacen. "I am so glad you came to visit me. I never get to see you anymore, since you moved out of the Temple. That's where I see most of my Jedi friends when I come back here."

Jacen shifted his weight to left foot then his right before finally settling on the left. "Well, I'm moving back over there, so..."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly. "Really? Danni finally agreed to it? I know the last time I talked to you she was the hold—"

"Danni and I aren't...together anymore," Jacen interrupted softly.

This time her eyes widen visibly. "Oh? I'm so sorry to hear that. What happened?" her hand came to rest unconsciously on his shoulder in comfort.

Jacen, very aware of the contact, met her gaze squarely. "We had very different priorities."

She nodded thoughtfully, withdrawing her feather touch. "How terrible for you."

He only shrugged.

"We came here to ask you to have lunch with us," Anakin said suddenly. "If you're free, that is."

Her face fell and her brow pinched in apology. "I am unable to today, I'm afraid. I have pressing duties that need attending to."

"Of course," Jacen sighed, having expected as much. "We'll let you get back to them, then. It was great seeing—"

"What about tonight?" she suggested, though somehow the conversation had shifted to almost entirely exclude Anakin. "I have no prior dinner engagements. You're welcome to join me here." After a moment she smiled at Anakin, including him at last in the arrangement.

"Alright," Jacen agreed after a brief wavering. "What time?"

"Will nineteen hundred hours suffice?"

He inclined his head in acceptance. "It will be our pleasure. Until then."

She hugged him one last time in parting before they again headed their separate ways.

The smoke filling the seedy cantina was choking him, filling his nostrils with the smell of cheap cigars and other more illegal substances. Jag pretended it didn't bother him, just kept his head ducked and strangled the increasing itch in the back of his throat, begging to be coughed. Instead he took a long draught of the stiff ale that seemed to be so popular among his new companions. This time the cough couldn't be completely squashed, so he settled for a slightly gurgled wheeze as his eyes blurred and the whole inside of his mouth numbed.

"You like that, Mike?" the burly smuggler beside him elbowed him sharply, causing the drink still in his hand to slosh out on his fingers. "Kicks where it counts, eh?"

Jag nodded, not trusting his vocal chords to be up to the task yet. Mike had been a name imposed upon him without askance, and since then Jag had learned that to this particular group of disreputable beings "Mike" was a generic term for anyone they didn't know but respected. So even after he had integrated himself among their ranks, he remained simply Mike.

His quest for exemption had began on Rodia, a place known for their mass production of criminals and thieves. He had followed the first lead there on the information Kolivin had given him. It had been a list of the personnel the first squadron of New Republic fighters killed in the engagement in question. Jag had watched the tapes again and again and finally come to the conclusion that if they had indeed fired first, the shot must have come from one particular fighter. The pilot in that fighter had family on Rodia, and so off Jag had gone.

He had found once there that not only was the pilot in question identified by his crewmates as human, but that his parents were both Rodian. It had been an exciting and confusing link in the chain of events Jag had followed for the past few weeks. From Rodia he had accessed a Holonet search for criminal files of all the humanoid males who fit the description of the impostor. It had been a daunting list, but he had managed to wheedle it down to a few hundred suspects.

After that he had scoured the list of crimes for someone who's skills might fit the kind of man it would take to perform the bit. Rant Las had been the one that settled in his gut. He was a notorious member of a Nal Hutta swoop bike gang, the Blood Drivers, racing for Neeba the Hutt in all the major events. His profile had tagged him as a former Imperial TIE pilot who had dropped out during training school. He had the experience and talent, and Jag just had a feeling that needed followed.

Being a pilot himself, Jag had not found it too difficult to prove himself among the gang of thugs. All it had took was one picked fight and a bar brawl to make them believe he was no more than what he said. The difficult part had been getting used to the surreptitious demeanors and activities. Hiding his military bearing had become a full time job.

As he had suspected, Rant Las had disappeared a few months prior and not returned. They all assumed him dead and didn't really care; if he was who Jag thought he might be, they would be right.

The charade had proved tiring soon enough. What had kept him in it had been the anonymous backing of their benefactor, who it was clear enough to see was not Neeba the Hutt. Neeba attended the races and bet on their members—and gained immense wealth from doing so—but Jag had yet to see a single cred be passed from his hand to the Drivers'.

"Hey, Beanie," the smuggler sharing the bench with him—Harv, he remembered—drawled to one of their companions. "Who you puttin' your creds on tomorrow?" he referred to the high stakes race the Drivers would be taking part in next.

It was easy enough to see why they participated in groups. The less talented members would run their competitors off the tracks, or even shoot them down in more extreme cases, so that one of the Drivers came out on top. The profits were then split evenly among them. But the true advantage came from behind the scenes planning. They would gather and decide who they wanted to win, then bet everything they owned on that person. The earnings from those deals astounded even Jag.

Beanie put down his mug of ale with a thud and stared straight at Jag. "Mike there hasn't had a turn yet. What you say, Mike?"

Jag bought himself some time by taking a very long drink. When he set it aside there were very little inhibitions left. "Whatever. I don't give a damn."

They laughed loudly and he earned a sound clap on the back before the conversation switched to other matters. Most of those matters had to do with a visit to the bordello downtown to top off the night. Hoping to steer well clear of the festivities, Jag half-faked a drunken saunter back to their gang haunt. It might not be as easy or brief a chore as Jag would have liked, but each day he got a little closer. Every time he reaffirmed their trust he was brought nearer the day he could again be a free man.

Wyn Fel had had enough. "This is stupid. All they're going to do is kick me out of the squadron anyway, maybe off Csilla. I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. Can't I just leave and save us all some trouble?"

The Chiss man stared at her through glowing red slits, something akin to contempt pinching his blue face. "It's a little more complicated than that, I'm afraid. You and your entire family have committed high treason after years of faithfulness to this government. I want to know why."

Wyn groaned and slid lower in her seat, resting the nape of her neck on the back of the chair. A featureless white ceiling stared back at her. The same white covered the floor and three of the walls in the interrogation room. The fourth was a large one-sided transparisteel panel where doubtlessly there were a dozen Chiss officers examining and profiling her every word and movement. "I give up. The food's not good enough. Too spicy. Sorry."

She resisted a smile as he ran long blue fingers through his ebony hair, a sure sign of frustration. This was the first time Wyn had been on the receiving end of this sort of procession, and since it would most likely be her last she was determined to have some fun with it. Unlike her other siblings, Wyn Fel only played the part of a studious CEDF employee. She lived that life only because it was her only outlet. It was what was expected of her, and besides, there wasn't a better pilot in the Ascendancy. She could tear up the skies in her clawcraft like no one else, and besting the stuffy Chiss aviators gave her a dark sort of amusement.

"This is not a game, Leiutenant Fel," he snapped at her. "Has the New Republic paid you, offered you something to turn on us?"

Wyn snorted derisively and rolled her jade eyes. "Please. Even if they had, you think we would take it? They're pathetic, and we all know it."

"Is that a yes or no?"

"No," she pronounced the word carefully.

"Then what's going on? If you tell me, I might be able to cut you a deal. Maybe even keep you in your squadron," he offered slyly.

Wyn sat up straighter and furrowed her brows at him. "Do you know how you can tell when a Chiss is lying?"

"Oh please, humor me," he replied sardonically.

She tilted her head to the right and smiled at him. "You can't. So why should I trust you?"

He turned away from her and gestured to someone behind the glass. Wyn looked at the chrono hanging on the wall to her right, the only adornment in sight. She had been in this room for closing on two hours. Her family itself had been confined to their home for nearing three weeks, and in that time their hope had hinged on one thing: the Chiss had not been able to find Cem.

His existence was known of course, they had seen it on the holorecordings from the monitors when they had helped Jaina and Hanna get away. But what they didn't know was that her parents had always planned for an eventuality like this. It was the whole reason for keeping Cem's existence under wraps like they had. The Chiss didn't know that in the back of Cem's closet there was a tunnel that weaved a half kilometers trail under the ice to a bunker in the mountains behind their mansion. And even if they did know, Cem was long gone by now. And Chak had gone with him.

At least, that's how Soontir and Syal had planned it. Wyn, though, tended to believe that the one quirk in their design was Cem himself. He wouldn't run or hide; not for long. Not her brother. He would find a way to spring them all and escape.

They could have all run that day, Wyn mused. But there had been other, more critical pieces of information stored in their home that her father had to destroy before they could go. He had not always been forthcoming with his Chiss superiors in a lot of matters, and not the least among them was the base on Nirauan and the orders he regularly received from there. Syal had refused to leave him and Wyn, as the only other member of the family the CEDF knew or cared about, had stayed as well. The rationale in that had been that the CEDF would have torn the house apart to find her when they might not waste so much time hunting down her brothers.

That had been their reasoning, anyhow. But after hours, days, weeks of this nonsense Wyn cared much less about her father's secrets. She was ready to get on with her life. She remembered her last word to Jaina before her sister in marriage had fled persecution. "Just have a place back at Bastion ready for me after my court-martial." The idea was becoming much less of a joke to her fatigued mind and soul.

Her inquisitor turned to face her again. "You're being unnecessarily difficult. I just want to know why you turned your back on this life the Syndic has been building for nearly thirty years. For a Jedi brat? I hardly think that could be the only reason."

Wyn was tired, and she had explained it all before. Numerous times. "What do you want me to say?" she sighed. "That we did it for money or fame, for power? None of that's true. We did it for love."

"Love?" he raised one black eyebrow. "That's hardly more plausible."

She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, cupping her face in her folded hands. It was going to be a long day.