Part XII

Frustrated after the fourth or fifth attempt, Leyla vowed to give it one more attempt before going to sleep for the night. Try as she might, she was unable to fully reconstruct the scene in which her family's apartment had been attacked. Watching in horror, she was able to view that part where she woke up, confused, and her mother had been standing there, waiting, sensing a problem… the door had exploded and she had hidden, and she remembered listening, terrified, as her mother fought against an onslaught of blaster shots in the other room…

And then a new threat, and men bursting into Leyla's hiding place, grabbing her and she struggled… and then a vague glimpse of her mother coming for her but then everything got strangely fuzzy and eventually collapsed…

Frowning, she pushed backwards, knowing that there must have been something she missed. She was positive that her parents would never send her away without warning her first, and that they would have sent her with friends, people she knew well, like mommy's friend Zekk, or Kyp. They were both Jedi; why did she have to leave with some scary people who Leyla had never seen before? Xela was gone now, and Leyla was glad because the woman had frightened her on the flight here, with her dark sense and her cold, hard voice…

The voice. There was a flash of something… she focused on it. The other, memory version of her was crouched low in a closet, suddenly hearing more noise, more people were in the apartment… a faint sound rang over the blaster fire. A woman calling something…

"…the child is in here!"

She sat bolt upright, breathing hard, abandoning the memory. That voice…

A part of her surged with pride, knowing that she had been right- her parents would never send her away without warning, and not with scary people like Xela and that Moff man- Croyel. Another part of her though finally allowed the fear of her situation to shine through; after weeks of only guessing, she was sure now that Xela had stolen her away from her mommy and daddy and, based on the way Wrynn talked to her about ruling the galaxy when she was a lot older…

It didn't seem that they ever planned on giving her back.

The only question left was what to do about it. Undoubtedly, her family was looking for her; but it had been more than a month by now, and the worry that she constantly felt in the back of her mind suggested that maybe they weren't so sure about finding her anytime soon. A lump formed in Leyla's throat.

But she was only seven. Even if she escaped from this cold, dark, underground place where Wrynn and his apprentices lived, what could she do? She couldn't sneak into a ship, and even if she did, she certainly wouldn't be able to fly it anywhere. And who knew what the rest of the planet was like? What if no one would help her?

As quickly as she allowed the panic to overtake her, she felt it easing away and, when she concentrated a little, she could feel responding little touches of reassurance in her mind. One was from mommy and the other was stronger, but briefer… Kyp…

When he felt the answering touch from her mind, Kyp pulled away slowly, it seemed. But Leyla smiled to herself and lay back down on the bed, knowing that someone was coming to get her.

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

Admiral Pellaeon strode up and down the bridge, eager to disprove the faintest hint of rumor that he was getting old, feeble, or senile, or that the attempt on his life had, in any way, dampened his spirits. It had, of course, if only because he had trusted Sergeant Husted with his life for half a decade, only to find the man willing to kill himself in the attempt to kill him.

Or… perhaps he never expected that the impromptu blast would kill his superior. Maybe it had simply been the plan, if he was discovered. He thought back to Leia Organa Solo's question, about discontent about the unification process, grasping at something in his mind… but it slipped through the cracks, and Pellaeon had to content himself with the promise to think on it more fully later.

The clang of his boots made a most reassuring sound against the metal deck plates as a flurry of commotion caught his attention from the other side of the bridge. His pace was measured and casual, but forcedly so. The entire encounter with the Solos and Fels had left him edgy, even though they had departed more some two standard weeks ago by now.

"Sir, incoming ships on vector… thirty three point nine."

"Numbers?"

The ensign looked harried. "It's… difficult to say. Small ships, snubfighters…" Pellaeon stood, peering out the viewport, gazing along the indicated vector. In seconds, he began to see the faint shimmer of craft reverting from hyperspace… and then close to thirty starfighters materialized in its place.

"Report," he snapped to the man at the controls.

"Twenty-eight Republic-design fighters, Admiral, mostly XJ X-wing craft with a few Y-wings…"

A voice cut over the relay channel, putting a quick stop to speculation. "Right to Rule, this is Luke Skywalker with two squadrons of Jedi fighters, please acknowledge."

Pellaeon's eyebrow shot up. He motioned the comm officer to step back, and he took up the transmission himself. "Master Skywalker, this is Admiral Pellaeon; to what do we owe the honor?"

There was a brief pause, and Skywalker's voice was characteristically unsure when he replied. "Admiral, a week ago, we received a request for the Jedi to come to the assistance of your fleet."

"Ah," Pellaeon frowned, and did not bother trying to hide the surprise in his voice. "From your sister?"

"Well… we aren't really sure. There was speculation that it might be a trap, but given the circumstances of recent events…" he trailed away.

Before further thought could be devoted to the matter, the same ensign, now sounding just shy of panicked- Pellaeon would have to speak with his superiors later- exclaimed, "New ships, Admiral, approaching from eleven point three! A lot of ships."

"Saba, take your wing and break off," he heard Skywalker snap over the open channel. "Twin Suns, on me."

And what had been dark, endless space moments prior exploded in a flurry of mismatched vessels. They were mostly smaller ships, ranging from assault shuttles to blastboats to carrier ships, but there was one dreadnaught in the middle that looked to be the flagship of the approaching force.

For a moment, all was still in space, even as the Right to Rule's crew hurried to battle stations… and then chaos erupted as the first starfighters, led by Luke Skywalker and Saba Sebatyne, got within range. The carrier ships dropped their cargo- a squadron of fighters each- and they swarmed to engage the Jedi point force.

"Find out who that is," Pellaeon snapped to no one in particular.

The abduction of a child, the treachery of the wife of a high state official, an assassination attempt… perhaps Jaina and Leia Solo had been right. The plots had converged to this key point and, as he saw the Right to Rule's own snubfighters pouring from the lower hangar decks, Pellaeon understood.

It had begun.

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

Alarms began to sound in the Imperial Library. Jag looked up and met the worried expressions on Han and Leia's faces, even as they peered up from their own computer consoles. He was vaguely aware of Threepio muttering something about looking into the mainframe and finding out what the fuss was about. Jaina didn't even flinch and just kept working. "Thoughts?" he muttered to his in-laws, who exchanged a look and shrugged.

"One of the things I've not yet had the pleasure of learning," Han said wryly, "was the Bastion alarm system. Maybe someone snuck in past security."

"Oh my!" Threepio spoke up. "It's a signal from Planetary Defense; the system is under attack!"

Now Jaina stood up, eyes flashing. "From who?"

"It seems a number of Moffs have rebelled and are seeking to reclaim the capital," Threepio said matter-of-factly, after his initial panicked outburst.

Leia frowned. "I thought Moffs only were allowed to hold small, private fleets for the security of their own sectors; certainly not forces large enough to take on Bastion."

"Maybe individually," Jag replied grimly. "But if they pooled their resources- something they've never been particularly fond of doing, given how much they each desire power and distrust each other- but if they did, they could probably mount a sizeable offense."

Threepio continued to watch the information as it poured forth from the city's main computer.

"Well, what sort of defense force does Bastion have?" Han demanded.

Jag looked around at the group. "Do you think they'd let us into the war room?"

Before he received a response, Threepio was alarmed again. "Oh dear! It seems that the Fourth Fleet just came under attack as well!"

"What?" Jaina was incredulous.

"Come on," Leia pulled away from the private research station the librarians had graciously allowed them. "Let's find out what's going on here."

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

Jacen Solo stared at the HoloNews Network for one more torn minute before barking at the system to turn off and drawing his cloak about him.

His parents and sister were trapped on Bastion while the small but devoted bunch of ill-contented Moffs made a seemingly foolish move to capture the government- to what end? And the timing of the concurrent attack against the Fourth Fleet- chance? It seemed unlikely.

An attempt had been made against Gilad Pellaeon's life while his parents, sister, and Jag were there with him. Now the Imperial capital was laid under siege from orbit by malcontents at the same time that another fleet of unknown origins attacked the former Imperial head-of-state. So much of this seemed like the eruption of rebellion in the remnant that Jacen almost didn't adhere to the warning calls in his head. But now, as he found himself getting into his family's speeder and tearing off towards the GA executive offices, he knew that the puzzle was so much deeper, the threads weaving in the wind as he struggled to capture them and make sense of the larger picture.

Why attack the Fourth Fleet? Why not the GA military Supreme Fleet, under Sien Sovv? Why not the Second Fleet, under Wedge Antilles? Logic suggested that it was because the plot was targeted at the Remnant, and Pellaeon's status as fleet commander made it an ideal target.

Leyla's kidnapping… Belotab's wife… Kyp's sudden departure…

The seeds of discontent were being sown in more places than just the Remnant. The Jedi had been affected, and the seat of the Galactic Alliance government. And now, at a time when the Imperial capital was under attack, and one of the most beloved admirals in the GA… could it all be a smokescreen, to cover the true intent? What if the scheme was larger than that? The conspirators had already proven they could gain access in the highest levels of the Galactic Alliance, through Admiral Pellaeon's personal guard staff, through the chief of staff's wife.

Attacking Coruscant would take massive amounts of firepower, more than any rebellion that had kept completely off the radar could possibly muster. But attacking the chief-of-state himself… that was a much easier task.

As he wove dangerously in and out of lanes of speeder traffic, Jacen knew that he was either about to prove instrumental to the successful continuance of the Galactic Alliance as they knew it- or was about to look like a mad conspiracy theorist.

End Part XII