A/N: I'm back! Thanks to my silent lurkers for being patient. :P Now, on with the good stuff… ;-)

Part XIV

An hour following the retreat of the rebel armada, the Jedi squadrons had split. Half docked with the Mon Mothma and half with the Right to Rule. Shortly thereafter, Wedge Antilles shuttled over to Pellaeon's flagship and met the admiral, as well as a number of Jedi, including Luke and Mara Skywalker.

"General Antilles," Pellaeon shook his hand. "Your coming was unlooked for, but a most welcome surprise. How did you get here so fast?"

Wedge shot a bemused look at the Skywalkers. "Luke asked me to come days ago; I thought we'd be too late."

Luke and Mara exchanged glances. "No, I didn't," Luke said slowly.

The four of them stared back and forth. Pellaeon sighed and put a hand to his brow. "Maybe I am getting too old for this," he muttered. "Let me see if I understand; Master Skywalker, you amassed a wing of Jedi fighter pilots when you received an anonymous, urgent request that you meet my fleet." Luke nodded. "And General Antilles, you were requested by someone parading as Master Skywalker to rendez-vous with us, arriving just in time to drive the attackers into retreat?"

"In a word," Mara quirked a brow, "yes."

Wedge held up his hands defensively. "It was your recognition code," he told Luke. "Does anyone else even know the encryption?"

He shrugged. "Just Mara…" he trailed away and looked curiously at his wife. After a moment he looked back at Wedge. "Nevertheless, our benevolent source has won this one for us and, suspicion aside, they must be thanked for that."

An ensign trotted over and handed Pellaeon a datapad. He scanned it, frowned, and then read it more thoroughly. The frown deepened.

"Trouble, Admiral?" Luke asked lightly.

"In a manner of speaking," he agreed stiffly. "It seems that a number of malcontents among the Moffs have decided to stage a coup."

"A coup?" Wedge demanded.

He stared at the message. "Bastion is under attack by a joint force of some six or seven sector-wide defense fleets." He peered curiously at Wedge before glancing back down and reading. "It would seem that your nephew is proving instrumental in much of the coordination on the ground."

Wedge stared. "Jag is on Bastion?"

"He went with Jaina, Leia, and Han to do some research in the Imperial Library to hopefully turn up some new leads," Luke told him softly. "What do you think?" he asked Pellaeon. "Are the two attacks related?"

"Of that," Pellaeon sighed, "I have little doubt." He turned to Wedge. "General, I'd like to pull my fleet but I'm afraid some of my ships will need some time before they are back in top condition…"

"A swap then?" Wedge picked up on his line of thinking. "Tell me what you need and I'll transfer them under your command; we can stick around and oversee repairs."

"My sincere thanks," Pellaeon stood. "We jump to Bastion in two hours. Master Skywalker," he paused. "Your further assistance would be… appreciated."

"Of course," Luke looked at Mara. "We'll take half with you and leave half with General Antilles." His expression faltered and darkened for a moment. "I think it's time that Mara and I lent our assistance to Jaina and Jag as well."

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

Moff Croyel stared stonily at his right-hand man who had brought a three-pronged wave of bad news all at once. "Stop," he held up a hand. "Let's go through this piece-by-piece. You're telling me, Alurin, that Pellaeon knew that the armada was coming?"

Alurin grimaced, an unusual expression of any sort from the normally stoic man. "It remains unclear. Our sources indicate that there was some initial confusion when the Jedi arrived with the Fleet, but it was only moments later that the engagement started. That could have been attributed to Jedi sorcery and foresight, but the armada was routed when the Second Fleet arrived to Pellaeon's aid."

"But no indication of what tipped them off?"

"No, sir. Though the commander of the Second Fleet is a longtime friend of Luke Skywalker, back to the Rebellion days."

Croyel sighed. "Very well. And the attack on Bastion?"

"It was never meant to do more than act as a decoy, of course, but the fleets' efforts are meeting more resistance than they initially expected. Word has it that elements of the Chiss Defense Fleet have scrambled from Csilla and will arrive in-system within twenty-four hours."

The Moff frowned and considered a moment. "An odd move for the Chiss, no?" he pondered slowly. "Even with their Imperial alliance, they've never been eager to involve themselves in conflict among the Moffs."

"Ah," Alurin deadpanned, "it seems the ruse has been… revealed, at least in part. As it turns out, the prodigal child of the Chiss' human pet has been pinned down on Bastion."

Time slowed as Croyel understood his meaning. "You mean- Fel?"

"I would seem that the Millennium Falcon headed there directly after leaving the Fourth Fleet. It bypassed our sources- we think because they were accorded a priority access clearance by Pellaeon that kept them off of the flight logs. They've been using the Imperial Library- we haven't yet learned why. In any case, given the current state of mayhem in the Solo and Fel families, it seems the Ruling Families were less than patient at any perceived further attack on Fel and his wife."

"That is… unfortunate. But ultimately it should mean little, when the time is right, the Moffs will withdraw the attacks and reinforce the armada. I'm more concerned about Losek's failure on Coruscant." He let the sentence hang like an accusation.

Alurin spoke haltingly. "You… won't like this. Not only was the planned bombing thwarted, but Losek was taken- alive."

His eyes flashed. "Oh? And just how did our greatest investment come to fail us so direly?"

"How he came to know of the plot is still… unknown. But Jacen Solo was apparently seen storming the Executive Offices just minutes before the evacuation was called. Our last word was that he evacuated on the top landing pad with Omas, his chief of staff, and Losek, under arrest."

A cold fury radiated from the Moff. "Jacen Solo," he hissed. "One of the principle reasons in staging our move after taking the girl was to distract the family, who have proven themselves absurdly meddlesome for some thirty-five years now. And now, we have a three-way failure, all due to them? The Skywalkers against the armada; the elder Solos and the Fels on Bastion; the twin brother on Coruscant. We are thwarted at every turn."

"Oh," Alurin put in almost apologetically. "General Antilles leads the Second Fleet- the uncle of Jagged Fel."

He sighed heavily. "Very well; we regroup. When the Moffs withdraw from Bastion, their numbers will easily make up for ships lost. We may have to rethink our strategy with the child- or take some action against the rest of the family. What are your thoughts on the Losek situation?"

"He will be taken care of."

"See that he is," Croyel held up a warning finger. "If the Jedi are involved, it could prove more difficult that you think."

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

Jaina Solo alternated between pacing restlessly and sitting and retreating into her own mind restlessly. As a colonel for the CEDF, the Imperials had welcomed Jag's assistance in coordination of defensive tactics, but Han, Leia, and Jaina simply felt out of place in the strategy room. Now, she sat in frustration in the apartment in the Imperial Palace they had been graciously offered, feeling utterly helpless. Even if she'd had her starfighter with her, it wouldn't have mattered; the planetary shield prevented ships from leaving, as well as protecting the surface from aerial bombardment.

Instead, she tried to calm herself and focus on Leyla for the umpteenth time.

Her daughter felt a certain melancholy that made Jaina's heart ache, but she was still alright. In the two months of her absence, Jaina had felt her fear and sadness, but never had the impression that she suffered physically, and she was happy for that at least. By now though, she imagined that Leyla was getting depressed about her situation; she knew her daughter was strong, but that strength would only hold for so long while she waited for someone to find her.

And in all the chaos- they really weren't any closer.

She stood up to resume pacing when she felt a familiar presence approaching. Forcing a smile, she waited for Jag to enter the room. Her parents looked up from the remote access console they'd been given into the archives when the door opened.

"How is it going?" Leia asked softly.

"They're… oddly resilient." Jag strode over and kissed Jaina on top of her head.

Han huffed. "Guess they realize that if they fail, they're charged with high treason."

Jag shook his head. "I'm not sure that's it." He took a seat on the sofa, pulling Jaina down with him. "We've just had news from Coruscant- it seems there's been an attack on the chief-of-state."

Jaina's throat tightened. "Is he dead?"

"No. During a cabinet meeting, one of the ministers- we're still trying to learn which one- brought a timed explosive. He was apprehended less than ten minutes before the explosion… by Jacen."

"Jacen?" Han asked, stunned. "How did that happen?"

Jag shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. But I guess it was a sizeable blast- destroyed the top five stories of the Republic Executive Building completely, did significant damage to another seven, not to mention the collateral damage to adjacent buildings. Preliminary reports are estimating around fifty or one hundred dead with another several hundred injured. They were able to get the majority on the upper levels either out or down onto lower floors where they were safe."

Leia frowned. "What about the bomber?"

"We think they took him alive."

Jaina sat up abruptly. "This could be our big breakthrough," her wide, hopeful eyes stared up at Jag. He held up a hand.

"There's more," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "The situation with Admiral Pellaeon's fleet is over; apparently Wedge arrived, unlooked for, and drove the attackers back. In the report we just received on the engagement, however…" his eyes shifted and he didn't meet their gazes. "They've upped the interest in Jedi Master Kyp Durron due to suspicion of… treason."

Han coughed and spluttered. Jaina pursed her lips, knowing that, if ever there was a place to worry about eavesdropping, this was it.

"Why?" Leia asked calmly, though her eyes had darkened a fraction.

"Apparently the Jedi who came to the admiral's defense could sense him aboard the enemy's flagship."

Jaina could almost scream. There was so much they needed to talk about, but just couldn't. Not while Kyp was out there looking for Leyla. Finally, she forced calm into her voice and said, "That's certainly a blow for the Jedi order, that someone like Master Durron could be a traitor after all this time."

But her family read the worry in her eyes, and she knew that they all wondered as much as she did- just what had Kyp gotten himself in to?

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

Kyp stared dispassionately out the viewport as the planet of Gree Baaker grew ever larger and dominated the view. It was a perfect place to base a top secret operation because no one would ever travel there for recreational purposes in a millennia. It was barren and dull, and its only galactic notoriety in the past half-century was that its labor camps during the height of the Empire had supplied many of the workers to build the first Death Star. The camps had since been shut down and vast expanses of the planet were empty and littered with the remnants of them. Cities were few and far between, and sparsely populated.

And right in the middle of the nothingness, far away from prying eyes in any direction, was a Moff's special, private outpost- supposedly for overseeing cleanup of the old bases. By the looks of things, however, little progress had been made on that front and, as the small and fast assault shuttled skimmed over the depressing landscape, Kyp saw nests resting in the ruins of destroyed blockhouses, wild plant life covering old work fields… he wondered what this Moff Croyel would ever tell anyone who came around asking about what he needed his outpost here for.

Then again- Croyel had obviously demonstrated a clear ability to influence government at its highest levels. Kyp would have bet a substantial sum that this little structure didn't exist on any public manifests of his properties.

As they set down in the small, heavily camouflaged hangar bay, Kyp allowed a brief probe of his surroundings while Xela and Tahlia were distracted with the landing sequence. Only two presences stuck out to him inside the building directly adjacent the hangar, and he frowned. This Wrynn character was here, and surely he had Leyla… but his daughter was certainly not among the two whom he had sensed. Kyp allowed himself the briefest pang of worry, thinking he might have miscalculated, or that he was, perhaps, being played. Had one of the women somehow discovered the two low-beam transmissions he had sent from a randomly selected shuttle in the Red Hand hangar bay? He didn't know- he didn't sense a trap anyway- but now seemed a poor time to play the odds.

Xela exited the ship first, and Tahlia motioned him to follow. She locked the controls on the landing ramp behind them as she came down last- a fact that Kyp noted, along with the models of the few other ships already resting on the pad.

Inside, Xela marched them straight to an office where a middle-aged, blustering sort of a man was skimming datapads and muttering to himself, seeming generally discontent. He looked up and gave a forced smile upon their entrance, however. "Ah, excellent," he stood. "You are expected below immediately."

Below?

"Problems?" Xela snapped.

"Besides your failure against Pellaeon's fleet?" the man asked wryly. "The Chiss are routing the forces at Bastion, they'll be forced to withdraw soon, and… the bombing on Coruscant was foiled. Our man was taken alive."

Xela radiated anger, Tahlia seemed worried. The man- Croyel himself, Kyp decided- looked him over. "You must be Master Durron," it wasn't a question. "I'm glad to have you. We could use your help at this juncture."

"Understood."

Without further comment, they were led to a hidden panel, where Croyel keyed in a pass code- the wall opened, revealing a hidden corridor that was plain and undecorated, and ended in a turbolift. Another code gained them access and, as Kyp stepped inside, he understood what he meant by 'below.'

There was only one button in the lift car. As the doors slid closed, Kyp extended his awareness downwards, rather than out, searching deep beneath him, and finding a sudden burst of brighter presences, clearly people trained in the Force…

And there, still strong yet scared, radiating a bright point in the Force…

Leyla.

End Part XIV