Part VIII

Wrynn watched little Leyla as she sat disinterestedly in a corner with one of his apprentices, a young man named Vulcor, in mild frustration. After a couple of weeks, he'd expected her stoicism to give way, for her to break down and demand answers, or give up and accept what they were telling her. Instead, she remained oddly impassive for a seven-year-old, expending minimal effort whenever anyone made an attempt to probe her powers in the Force, and giving stilted answers to any questions asked.

Part of him was proud and a little awed by her self-control. The other part was annoyed and wanted her to break so that they could truly start training her. From what little she displayed, it was clear that Croyel was right, that this small child possessed an abnormal capability of Force-talents- but he wondered how much of that capability lay dormant under the surface and how much she was able to draw on unbeknownst to him.

With an effort, he pulled his attention away from her and directed it back towards Moff Croyel. "How long until our Jedi contact is due to meet with our liaison?"

"Two days," Croyel said, chewing thoughtfully on a ration bar. "I'm glad you bring it up though, my lord- I think I might have guessed the identity of our contact and, if I'm right, it is… a pleasant surprise."

Wrynn finally gave his full attention to the Moff. "Oh?"

"Yes, sir… apparently the government has just issued a location report for a Jedi Master by the name of Kyp Durron. It seems he was involved in some sort of incident with Skywalker's wife and another in the temple itself on Coruscant."

"Durron…" Wrynn searched his memory. "That's a name I recall. Fell to the dark side years ago, didn't he?"

Croyel nodded. "He was possessed by the spirit of an ancient Sith lord. Skywalker claimed he was redeemed, but Durron is remarkably powerful and he knows it, and it tends to make him… brash. During the recent war, there was a period where he seems to have slipped again back down the dark path- though honestly, I thought he had the right idea, going around and killing collaborators by the dozens."

"That is interesting," Wrynn murmured approvingly. "He would make a great asset- or a formidable opponent, if you're wrong. Tell me about these 'incidents'."

Croyel pulled a small datapad from his pocket and thumbed through a briefing page. "Ah. From what I've gathered- the Jedi weren't horribly explicit in their own release- Durron has a gift for mind manipulation, wiping memories and the like."

"And he did this to Mara Jade?" Wrynn sounded almost pleased. "Perhaps you are right, my dear Moff," he smiled. "She has long been a loose end to this operation, and that has rankled me for decades. I wonder if our Jedi informant had the foresight to eliminate that threat before we make our larger move."

"It seems likely, my lord."

Wrynn clasped his hands together. "I shan't get my hopes up until I meet our faithful infiltrator. But when we do, let's give him- or her- a welcoming thanks they won't forget." He paused and glanced over towards Leyla and Vulcor. "What do we know of Durron's relationship with the Solos and Fel?"

"Ah…" Croyel consulted his notes. "Longstanding friendship with Han Solo, who freed him from slavery when he was just a teenager; on and off antipathy between him and the Skywalkers, and the rest of the Masters; it seems he apprenticed Jaina Solo briefly early in the Yuuzhan Vong war, but alienated her soon after. No obvious personal connection remaining to this day."

"Hm," Wrynn pondered this information. "Well assuming Master Durron is our man, we should perhaps be wary about how much we divulge right away. He may not yet be aware of the full extent of his role in what transpired on Coruscant, and if he's still friendly with Han Solo… it could be a tense subject."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

The atmosphere aboard the Millennium Falcon was still tense on the third day of their four-day jump to Gyndine. Jaina could sense everyone's questions about Kyp, wondering what he was doing and why, but no one seemed willing to ask them. She wasn't sure if it was because they knew that she didn't know any more than they did, or perhaps they feared upsetting her further… but in either case, the sound of silence was deafening.

After another hour spent reaching for her daughter's mind in the Force, she was exhausted. With no other way to comfort herself or Leyla, however, Jaina found herself often retreating into her mind, attempting to stretch across the distance, willing the Force to give her any sort of a clue as to her missing child's location. Nothing had transpired yet, but at least she received consistent reassurance that Leyla was okay, and as time went on, Jaina grew more and more convinced that whoever had her didn't intend to harm her.

This was both a relieving thought and a frightening one. If they weren't after ransom or some other political goal, and bore no ill-will towards the girl herself… what did they want with her? With the vaguest sensations of memory, Jaina recalled being sequestered on the remote planet of Anoth with Winter. The idea had been to keep her and Jacen, and later Anakin, away from dark powers which would corrupt their young minds irrevocably.

But Leyla was older, her mind already matured significantly, not as easily molded. It worked both ways though- being older, she possessed a greater ability to tap into her Force powers, and it was still early in her training; indeed, she'd only received informal instruction from family on basic mental shielding and emotion suppressing, maintaining telepathic links with her mother, that sort of thing. That certainly opened up the possibility for someone to start trying to train her in all the wrong ways.

The idea that some unknown person could be trying to shape her daughter into a tool of the dark side made Jaina's heart clench, and she let out an involuntary sob. Jag shot up from where he'd been leaning over the small work desk in the cabin, studying a datapad as though willing inspiration to jump at him. He put it down and crossed to where she lay flat on the bed, a hand over her mouth to suppress the sound.

"Please," he whispered earnestly. "Don't cry, Jaina." He pulled himself up on the small bunk, nudging her onto her side where he could wrap his arms around her and bury his face against her neck and in her hair. "I love you."

"I know," she sniffled, earning a muffled chuckle.

He gently swept her hair back from her face and kissed her cheek. "You can't give up hope."

"I haven't. I won't."

His lips traced a line down her neck. "I need you too much," he murmured. "If you despair, I won't know what to do. Your strength is my strength and I need you to stay strong for me, and for Leyla."

"I will."

He pulled her onto her back again, balancing on an elbow to lean down over her. His free hand reached up to caress her face softly, and he slowly pressed his lips to hers, wondering when had been the last time they'd done something so simple as kiss like this. She was reluctant at first, but he deepened the kiss, desperate for a connection with his too-often despondent wife. She moaned quietly against him, and he counted it a huge success, making her feel anything, if only fleetingly.

And it was short-lived. After a minute, Jaina pulled away and smiled sadly. "Not like this," she murmured. "I love you too… but I can't do this now."

He understood. Placing one last, soft kiss against her forehead, he settled back down beside her, drawing her into his arms. For a long time, they lay like that, taking comfort in each other's presence, and Jag thought that Jaina seemed a little calmer than she had been in weeks.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

After a long journey, Kyp found himself staring, unimpressed, at the mining world of Excarga. Jedi business had never brought him to this particular gem of the outer rim, but he had been to enough industrial worlds, settling smuggler disputes before the onset of the most recent war, that he knew well enough what to expect.

He was two days early and, as his potential investor alter ego Lorig Laxern descended towards the planet's atmosphere, he wondered if he need have bothered arriving so far ahead of schedule. Instructions that he had pried from Brionia's mind were that he be in the capital city- a spaceport more than anything- on a bridge overlooking the river at sundown, two weeks to the day from the incident that had forced her departure- or his, in this case.

Everything hinged on what would happen two days from now- he knew from Brionia's mind that she never had contact with Red Hand outside of the wife of chief of staff Belotab, that she had no clue who she would find at the end of the road. The question though, was whether they knew who they'd be meeting. In which case, this would quickly go from an infiltration mission to a tracking one when the liaison left after Brionia failed to show.

Failure in this was not an option. He could tell from his periodic glimpses into Jaina's mind that the search was still relatively hopeless on her end, that they were grasping at straws to come up with new leads in light of the sudden assassination of Trina Belotab on the roof of her apartment, and her destruction of the computer used to force her way into Jag's embassy.

Periodically, Kyp reached out a tentative probe into Leyla's mind, always wary of avoiding alerting her to his touch. As far as she was concerned, he was a close friend and no more, someone who visited Han and Leia's apartment frequently when she was there with her parents, but Kyp didn't often go over to Jaina and Jag's place. It was hard sometimes, not seeing her very often, but it had been Kyp's decision alone, when Leyla was just two years old, that it was best if they wait until she was old enough to fully understand everything before revealing her true parentage.

Despite that though, he shared a close bond with his daughter, and had almost since he first met her when she was just over a year and a half old. He could tell that she was aware of their connection to some small degree, but didn't realize its full extent and probably wouldn't until the day when Jaina, Jag, and Kyp sat down to explain to her that Kyp was actually her biological father.

For now though, that one-way link worked in his favor. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to think that he might be coming for her, lest she inadvertently give him away at the moment he was trying to insert himself in this secret organization, but he would have a clearer idea of whether he was following the right path because of his own awareness. As he settled in the hangar bay in the spaceport, Kyp reflected for the hundredth time on the fortunate foresight to retain the secret of Leyla's paternity. He was going to give these people an unpleasant surprise that they weren't likely to forget for some time- if they survived.

End Part VIII