A/N: Hope you all are enjoying. Just a heads up, I'm traveling tomorrow and might have sketchy internet access until Sunday, so I'm not sure whether I'll be getting new posts up until early next week. I have a stressful few days coming up though, so if you'd like to make me feel better with a review, I'd love you forever. ;-)

Part XIII

Leyla watched and listened when she was supposed to be meditating and blocking out all of her mental and environmental distractions. The Moff, Croyel, had been down to their hiding place early that morning, and Wrynn had seemed remarkably distracted, sending her off with Vulcor instead and going off to talk with Croyel privately. Since he had come back to the training room, he had been sitting and brooding, and Leyla wondered what had gone wrong.

Maybe her family was close to finding her. The thought made Leyla perk up slightly.

"You aren't concentrating," Vulcor gently reprimanded her. "Is something on your mind?"

"What's happening?" she asked.

He looked politely bemused. "How do you mean?"

"Wrynn looks angry and he seems… worried, I think."

"Ah," Vulcor nodded slowly. "Well, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with. It's grownup business, nothing that you would find particularly interesting or exciting."

Leyla scowled, frustration getting the better of her. "I thought I was supposed to be learning about grownup business," she pouted in a way that her mommy would have called immature and daddy would have sighed and given her what she wanted. "How can I learn about running the galaxy if you don't tell me what's going on?"

His expression was equal parts befuddlement, amusement, and frustration. "Well… I suppose some things you just wouldn't understand until you're older."

"Huh." She mulled that over and shrugged, abandoning the quest for information as quickly as she'd initiated it. "Vulcor," she changed the subject, "where are you from?"

A long silence greeted her query. "This is my home," he finally answered.

"But where did you come from?" she persisted.

"I-" he hesitated and shot a glance at Wrynn, but the older man didn't seem to be paying much attention. "For the first twelve years of my life, I lived on a planet called Bonadan."

"Was it nice there?"

"No," he said sharply, and then his expression softened. "It was crowded and dirty- the planet was largely ruined by mining and other industries long ago."

Leyla thought about Coruscant, having no clue as to what the planet itself had once been like. Now, the only parts of it not covered by thousands of feet of construction were the snowy areas at the poles- at least, that's how Grandpa Han and Kyp had explained it when they told the story of going turbo-skiing there. "So was my planet," she finally decided. "But to cover up the dirtiness they just kept building it up. Now most of the buildings are thousands of stories tall." Vulcor looked skeptical. "Haven't you ever been to Coruscant?"

"No," he frowned. "I don't leave here often."

Her expression was one of wide-eyed curiosity. "Xela and Tahlia left," she pointed out.

"Well," he shrugged, "they're older, they've been trained here longer than I have. I'm still learning."

"How old are you?" she studied him shrewdly.

"Nineteen."

Her face fell. "Does that mean I can't leave until I'm at least that old?"

Too late, movement caught her attention and she realized that Wrynn had stopped his brooding and was paying attention to the last part of their conversation. She shrank back slightly as he swept across the room and took up a seat next to them on the ground. "Come now, Leyla," he chided, tone light but eyes steely. "What a silly thing to be worried about. We've explained this to you; when it's safe for you, you'll be able to leave."

"How long until that happens?" she lifted her chin defiantly. His eyes flashed and she scooted involuntarily closer to Vulcor.

"I don't know," his tone was firmer now. "But if you stopped worrying about it and focused instead on the things we're trying to teach you, you could develop your own strengths sooner and then you wouldn't need our protection." Her soft, brown eyes met his dark ones for a moment before she sighed and looked down. "Good," he said, pleased. "Now why don't you ask Vulcor to help you with something productive, like the memory focusing you learned a few days ago, instead of asking silly questions."

He turned and left the room in a swirl of his black robes. Once the door slammed behind him, Leyla felt bitter tears form in the corners of her eyes, and she wiped at them angrily. "Hey," Vulcor touched her arm hesitantly, "don't worry about it, he's not really mad."

She hiccoughed, trying to stop a sob before it escaped her throat. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Maybe you like it here better than Bonadan, but I'm not supposed to be here at all."

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

Kyp Durron stood on the bridge of the Red Hand, trying to mask his nervousness. The fight was closer than he would have liked after several hours, and he cringed inwardly every time a GA snubfighter disappeared into a burst of ionized gases. In all, Pellaeon's fleet was performing superiorly and overall had better technology and advanced tactics. The rebel armada, however, had strength in numbers and, even though some of the vessels weren't particularly meant to be war machines, they had enough firepower to be annoying as the GA fighters tried to get closer to the larger, more problematic ships- like the dreadnaught where Kyp observed.

Towards the beginning of the battle, the twenty-eight Jedi had opened up their collective awareness in the Force, joining together in a battle meld to give them yet another edge in the fight. That was good, it kept them safer, with twenty-seven other Jedi always aware if one was in trouble. The problem was, with that kind of collective perception, Kyp had no hope of hiding his presence.

He had felt the gentle pull as they pulled one another into the mental link. A fast attempt was made to draw his presence in as close around him as possible, but he had felt a couple of distinctive touches, followed by a vague confusion and curiosity, and then a sharp realization. The touches had recoiled as one, as the Jedi must have sensed that he was with the attacking fleet, not Pellaeon's.

Kyp would certainly have a lot of explaining to do- but not until after he had recovered his daughter. Once she was safe, he would gladly answer for everything he had done in the process of getting to her.

For now, he silently fretted that his efforts to discreetly turn the edge of the battle in favor of the Galactic Alliance had been for nothing. The Jedi squadrons were certainly a big help, but his other reassurance hadn't materialized, and he began to fear that it wouldn't. And if it didn't, his hopes of forcing a fast retreat before the Right to Rule and the Red Hand started hammering away at each other would be lost.

"Strange," Kyp turned and saw Xela move to stand beside him at the viewport. "These Jedi pilots of theirs… happy coincidence for the fleet? Or were they expecting us?"

"Hm," he tried to ascertain if she was suspicious or just thinking aloud. He decided that she didn't suspect him of the treachery he had quickly wrought before the armada jumped to hyperspace. "Difficult to say; the Jedi might have foreseen that their presence would be required, it wouldn't be unheard of."

Her sharp fingernails clacked against the railing as she drummed them nervously. "No," she muttered, "I think it's the fault of the Solos. They must have learned more than we suspected when they met the fleet before and called in the reinforcements."

"The Solos?" Kyp frowned.

She glanced at him sidelong before remembering. "But of course; you were meeting Tahlia. One of our men botched an assassination attempt on Pellaeon because of their interference. Nearly killed the girl, but she saved the old man's life," she said casually.

His heart sank. "The girl? Jaina Fel?"

"Yes, her." She turned sharply. "Do you know her well?"

Mind working fast, Kyp tried to decide on the right level of half-truth here. "Not anymore. I was once good friends with her father though, when I was much younger, and she was little more than a baby."

"But she was your apprentice," Xela put in, probing for information.

He allowed a sardonic quirk to grace his features. "It didn't last. She disagreed with some of my… methods. Never quite got on after that."

"Yes," Xela murmured, turning back to the viewport, "she's a little spitfire, isn't she?"

More than you know, Kyp thought wryly, thinking ever so briefly on the whirlwind romance he and Jaina had shared over the couple of months that he apprenticed her. A romance that had built up his unhealthy obsession for her and led him to performing deeds that, in some ways, were darker than his Exar Kun-fueled rampage with the Sun Crusher.

Deeds which had led to Leyla- who Xela had stolen right in front of Jaina. The thought sobered Kyp dramatically and he focused on keeping his anger at bay.

He was soon distracted by an exclamation from the other side of the bridge.

"Sensors indicate new ships approaching!"

Heart racing, Kyp turned to the viewport, uselessly searching the vast expanses of open space. This was it… the fate of Pellaeon's fleet could very well depend on whether Kyp's gamble had paid off…

A new fleet materialized into view behind the armada, drawing shouts of confusion and dismay. Kyp smiled grimly and looked at the blonde, cold woman. "Perhaps the Solos outwitted you more than you know."

"Report!" Yortevin snapped, hurrying to join Kyp and Xela. "Who is it?"

He didn't get an answer before a barrage of laser fire smashed against their shields, rocking the ship. "That," Kyp said as he watched two ship carriers disintegrate, "is the Galactic Alliance Second Fleet, led by General Wedge Antilles." He saw the Mon Mothma maneuvering, trying to best position itself to cut off an escape vector while the fleet continued to pummel the Red Hand armada. "Sir, I do not believe this is a battle you can win anymore."

Cursing, Yortevin rounded on a deck officer. "Feed the retreat coordinates to the armada. We jump on my mark."

Xela faced Kyp, stony-faced. "Be prepared," she bit. "We make a short jump and then Tahlia and I must take you to Lord Wrynn. He is eager to meet you."

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

Ferrin Belotab looked up from his desk and into the anxious eyes of Jacen Solo, and he cringed inwardly. The last time he had encountered a Solo- Jacen's twin, Jaina- his entire life had turned upside down shortly thereafter. The surprise of his wife's coldhearted treachery was only marginally overshadowed by her sudden murder on the rooftop of their apartment complex. Chief-of-State Omas had urged him to take as much time from work as he needed, but Ferrin had no idea what to do with that time, and work at least kept him absurdly busy to the point of distraction.

"Jedi Solo," he forced a smile onto his face. "What can I do for you?"

The young man looked anxious. "Where is Chief Omas?"

For a moment, Ferrin's mind blanked. People didn't just demand the location of the chief-of-state. He was a busy man with many demands on his time. Then again… Jacen was a Jedi and on good terms with Omas. He supposed it wouldn't hurt anything. "Cabinet meeting," he finally managed. "They aren't due out for another…" he checked his chrono, "forty minutes."

"Great," Jacen said, "I'll find it, don't worry."

It took a minute for his mind to catch up. "Wha- wait!" he stood and hurried after the robed man, already heading for the turbolifts to take him up to the meeting room. "You can't just turn up in the middle of a meeting with all of the high ministers!"

"It's sort of important," Jacen continued walking, unfazed, and pressed the call button for the lift. "You could come with me, if you'd like."

Like he was going to let him wander the executive offices on his own. "What's so important that it can't wait forty… thirty-nine minutes?"

Once they were securely inside the turbolift, Jacen brought out a sweeper device, searching for recording and listening bugs. When it came up clean, he turned and spoke lowly to a mildly offended Ferrin. "I think someone is trying to destabilize as much of the Galactic Alliance in one fell swoop as possible. They're masking it as Imperial malcontent, but I don't buy it. I think someone is going to go after Omas next, and I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Oh," Ferrin muttered faintly as the car stopped near the top of the dizzyingly tall building. "Right."

Jacen led the way down the long corridor towards the obscenely ornate doors at the end, behind which lay the large conference room where dozens of ministers, diplomats, foreign leaders and the like could be received by the chief-of-state. He paused and reached out in the Force, counting the presences in the room before him. As his touch skimmed over the minds of the twenty-odd people, one caught his attention and he focused in on it.

Nervous and calm at the same time… counterintuitive. Or maybe… no, not calm. Accepting. Someone who sees that they're about to get shot down in a dogfight and continues on anyway, determined to see it through, to take the other guy with him

Jacen pushed through the door suddenly, catching the guards unawares. Ignoring their protests, he walked quickly into the room and scanned the table of ministers who were eyeing him in silent curiosity.

"Jacen!" Cal Omas stood in surprise. "What brings you here, my boy?" Jacen didn't respond, just continued searching, matching faces with the minds he had sensed moments prior. "Is something the matter? Have you had word from your sister?"

A spike of emotion. Jacen pinpointed it and stared at a tall, angular human man. "You," he pointed. "What's your name?"

The man sneered. Omas came around the table to lean in close to Jacen. "Jedi Solo, that's Finance Minister Losek. I suggest you state your purpose here, or I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Losek," Jacen ignored Omas and rounded the table, "let me see your case."

"Chief," the man protested in a nasally voice, "surely we can remove this whelp, we're in the middle of a meeting…"

Jacen reached out for the man's briefcase in the Force. It started to move, and Losek seized it with one arm and, with the other, drew a blaster, leveling it at Jacen, earning gasps of surprise from the rest of those present. "Leave it, boy," he hissed.

"Varn," Omas frowned, "what's going on here?"

The man smiled, a cold and deranged look that set Jacen's spine tingling. "Hand over the bag," Jacen said calmly. "Chief Omas, I recommend that you sound an evacuation for the building, priority in the top twenty levels."

"Jacen!" Omas sounded appalled. "What-"

Losek fired, and Jacen's lightsaber was up in a flash. He deflected the bolt- back into Losek's other hand, which released the briefcase. Before it could fall, Jacen grabbed it in the Force and pulled it towards himself, simultaneously yanking the blaster from the hurt man's other hand.

Jacen opened the case, and saw a mid-sized timed explosive device counting down. His stomach clenched. "Chief Omas," he said calmly. "Call the evacuation; unless you think you can summon an extraordinarily good munitions team in the next," he checked the timer again before gingerly placing the case on the table, "eight minutes and six seconds."

His words took a moment to sink in. Then, a couple of people screamed, and everyone got to their feet. "Go!" Jacen snapped. "Guards, detain this man… no you don't!" he lunged forward and seized the man who was discreetly putting something in his mouth. Jacen seized his wrist and applied pressure at an expert point, and Losek dropped the pill into Jacen's outstretched hand. "You don't get to pull that one," he snarled. "Believe me when I say that I will extract every piece of information you possess about who you're working with and what they've done with my niece- painfully, if need be." He yanked Losek's arms behind his back and pulled him to his feet, ignoring the man's cry of pain from his blaster-burnt hand.

Omas and Belotab were the only other ones left in the room, save the guards who were now placing binders on Losek's wrists. "Come on," Jacen prodded them towards the door. "There isn't time." The alarms finally kicked in. "If it blows here, it'll only take off the top of the building."

A Galactic Alliance Security transport was waiting for them when they emerged onto the roof a minute later. They quickly secured the infuriated prisoner, and two men in GAS black coveralls took off into the building.

"Wait!" Jacen called, futilely. "There isn't time," he told the squad leader earnestly. "They'll only have a few minutes once they reach the device!"

"It's their job, son."

Five minutes later, as the speeder soared through congested lanes of speeder traffic, a loud explosion rent the air. Jacen whipped around and peered out the viewport. Black smoke was pouring up into the sky above the Republic Executive Building.

End Part XIII

Until next time,

*~Lexi~*