Legacy Of The Force_ Revelation Part 29

"Fix them with this, "Jaina said, holding up her last wrapped chunk of uj'alayi. Everyone laughed, and she heard them this time. "I'm always happy to be test aircrew in a totally unproven vessel..."

"It'll hold, "said Ram Zerimar. "Time was when Mando'ade rode war droids into deep s.p.a.ce, no fancy hulls, raw vacuum that far from your shebs." He indicated a tiny gap between gloved thumb and forefinger.

"That's how we won an empire. You going soft or something, Car'ika?"

"Oh, I know, we were tough then. We'd go two weeks without breathing, and half a dead pygmy borrat was enough to feed a whole clan for a week." Carid folded his arms across his barrel of a chest and stretched out his legs. "If any of our babies couldn't lift a beskad by the time they were weaned, we'd harden'em up by catching them a full-grown Trandoshan and making 'em kill it with their paci-fier and eat it raw. Ah, those were the days." He belched. "Pardon me. We're just too cultured and sensitive now, you know."

Jaina bit her lip to stifle a laugh. One of the overhead hatches opened, and Fett slid down the ladder to land among them.

"Docks with Slave I just fine, "he said, hooking his thumb in his belt. They really were testing the Tra'kad on the job. It didn't seem to faze any of them. "We got mission details now."

"It's a go, then?" Jaina asked.

"No, but we know what we have to do when we get the signal." Fett pa.s.sed around datachips. "Latest floor plans and layouts here. We'll either be taking out power grids to disable cannon batteries on the orbital yards, as needed, or falling back to Pellaeon's flagship Bloodfin to defend it if he gets in trouble."

"Pellaeon? Even in a little toy Turbulent?" It was a woman under the helmet, then: that must have been Isko Talgal. Beviin spoke of her in hushed tones. "What's going to put a dent in that?"

"Daala's keen that someone should look out for him personally. "

"Does she know something we don't?"

"Daala has a contingency plan for everything. Some-where, she's briefing someone to take out the Mandos if we don't behave. That's why she's so hard to kill." Fett smelled faintly of jetpack fuel and antiseptic. Smells were more noticeable in the cramped compartment. "My personal orders-if you run into Jacen Solo, you leave him. Unless you really need to kill him. No hunting, no trophies, no avenging the Mand'alor. He's Jaina's, when she's good and ready. Or else me and Beviin have wasted valuable time on her."

"Got it, Mand'alor, "Carid said.

Jaina wasn't sure if it was a Mandalorian courtesy, or just that Fett wanted her to share some misery by way of general payback. She let it pa.s.s. "What do you want me to do? You all seem to know what your roles are."

"You're the ace pilot, Jedi." Fett jerked his head in the direction of the aft bulkhead, as if there was something behind them. "Spare Bes'uliik in the carrier. Up for it?"

Jaina felt a pang of excitement and then instantly guilty. It seemed wrong to find any small pleasure in life so soon after Mara's death. She'd been the same after her brother Anakin was killed, as if feeling anything other than perma-nent grief was somehow betraying him.

I'd hate to think anyone I left behind couldn't live fully again. I have to get past this. She thought of Mara having a good laugh about Jaina edging past five-year-olds with blasters, and seized the chance.

"Can I at least get a look at the controls first?" she asked. "It's hard learning on the job in combat."

"We can test cross-decking to the carrier at the same time."

Fett wasn't joking. The Tra'kad pilot brought the vessel down on the deck of the carrier and settled it flush against a hatch. The Tra'kad's belly hatch opened; Jaina, feeling like a bug tipped out of a box, jumped down to the deck five meters below, easing her landing with the Force. Four dark gray wedge-shaped fighters sat on the hangar deck, a tight fit, and the familiar scent of hot drive, lube oil, and coolant was rea.s.suring. She stood admiring their lines; it was a pilot's machine, all right. Fett climbed down rungs set in the bulkhead, boots clanging as the spikes in the toe caps caught the metal.

"Mirta?" Fett never raised his voice, not even when he called out to someone. "You, too."

"Leave her to me, Ba'buir." Mirta walked up to a Bes'uliik and pressed something on her forearm plate to open the canopy. "Have we got time to get aloft for a few minutes?"

"Knock yourself out, "Fett said, and climbed back up the rungs to vanish into the belly of the Tra'kad.

"Two-seater, "Mirta said. "Up you get. You're driving."

"You're qualified on these?"

"If you mean can I fly one, yes." Mirta was remarkably agile even in armor, and was up on the airframe and lower-ing herself into the copilot's seat before Jaina had a chance to worry. "Only qualification is not killing yourself. We're not great form-fillers in Keldabe."

The canopy clicked into closed position and the c.o.c.kpit was suddenly m.u.f.fled against the sounds outside. Mirta, wedged right behind Jaina's seat, pointed out the drive ig-nition b.u.t.ton.

"Push it."

Jaina pressed the b.u.t.ton carefully with a cautious fingertip. The Bes'uliik made a little ack like a living animal's cough, and then the airframe shivered as the initial throaty rumble of the drive rose in pitch to a steady, singing, pure note.

"If you're nervous, Jaina, "Mirta said, "remember I'm the one putting all my faith in you.'"

Yeah. No pressure.

Jaina followed the hand signals of a Mandalorian in bronze armor to roll back, and moved the yoke intuitively, surprised when the fighter responded as she expected. The hangar deck turbolift lifted; she watched the cross sections of decks pa.s.s the c.o.c.kpit as they rose, and heard airtight hatches hiss and snap closed beneath them. Eventually she was looking up at star-dappled s.p.a.ce; she was ready to take off.

"Nothing to crash into, "Mirta said. Her arm snaked past Jaina's cheek and pointed at the various instruments. "Almost X-wing panel layout, except the weapons systems are this side. Take her out, Jaina."

I'm a Jedi. I can fly anything.

"Full domestic spec?" Jaina asked.

"Export, and that still beats what you fly at home..."

Jaina let vague familiarity take over her hands, and her Force ability to sense position and every little nuance of the Bes'uliik's handling did the rest. She was clear of the small flotilla before she realized it and getting a sense of how tight the turns could be. It felt wonderful. It was like any well-designed, lovingly crafted tool: it felt like an extension of her body, not a platform designed around the weapons with grudging s.p.a.ce left for the being who had to deliver them.

"Easy to be seduced by it, isn't it?" Mirta said.

She meant the Bes'uliik, that was clear, but Jaina thought of the ease with which she slid toward darkness, and how easy it was starting to feel among these people, how nat-ural to be learning to treat her brother like a bounty; she wondered where the line lay between being open to new ideas and too easily betraying the old.

"It's perfect, "Jaina said.

Mirta wasn't as hard to read in the Force as her grandfather. The sense of agitation hung in the c.o.c.kpit. "You think a Jedi healer would really be able help my grandmother?"

Jaina thought of Gotab, and why he'd found Mandalore as irresistible as this fighter was to her. She knew he wouldn't welcome her poking around in his business. "Can't do any harm. I'll find one."

"Thanks, Jaina."

She realized she'd ceased to be just Jedi and even Solo, and was now Jaina. For some reason, that heartened her even more than not being shot on sight as a spy.

Chapter 13.

Taun We-No, I'm not dead, and yes, I've still got your research material. I don't plan to sell it off. Don't make me change those plans.

Koa Ne-No, I didn't forget. And you know I found what you were looking for. I just don't need three million credits that badly. Which is still my price, by the way.

-Extract from queued text-comm messages awaiting transmission from Boba Fett, Mandalore, via Arkania and Kamino comm nodes IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER BLOODFIN, TASK FORCE a.s.sEMBLY AREA, OFF FONDOR.

Caedus refused to let his recent brush with Luke rattle his composure as he stepped through the hatch of Bloodfin's hangar, Tahiri at his heels.

He'd been duped with a brilliant Fallana.s.si illusion and had his StealthX almost ripped from under him. That had left him reeling, but not for long.

He realized that it wasn't an indication of his own vul-nerability.

It was a benchmark revealed to him as part of his destiny.

Luke had come after him: that showed how desperately urgent it now was for the Jedi to stop him. Luke was pulling out all the stops.

The illusion, however masterful, was the best that Luke and his entourage could do. Or else they'd have used it to defeat him there and then.

The attack on his StealthX-that was the best Luke and his wingmate could do, too. They couldn't stop him or grab him, even with chunks of his fighter missing. And they didn't have what it took to kill him, militarily or emotion-ally.

Luke was the greatest Jedi Master, and he'd just exposed the absolute limits of his powers, a suicidal gamble in any war. No-no, the Force had laid out the evidence for Cae-dus, and all he had to do was look at it from the right per-spective. Caedus truly knew his enemy now.

And he knew that Luke's best shot wasn't good enough.

And neither is yours, Admiral.

Here she comes...

"You seem in a positive mood, Colonel, "said Niathal's voice from some way behind him. "Good to see a spring in your step so soon after being sc.r.a.ped off your own deck."

Caedus followed an Imperial aide through the maze of pa.s.sageways into the citadel of the Destroyer, the most heavily protected sections that were the heart of the warship. It was a much smaller Destroyer than the Anakin Solo, an unfamiliar layout, with lower deckheads and nar-rower s.p.a.ces. When he stopped outside the compartment designated for the meeting, he studied the ship's badge on the bulkhead.

"Thank you for your concern, Admiral Niathal, "he said. The shield depicted a four-legged, fanged creature with cloven hooves like daggers, a blood-red frill raised like a mane along the length of its arched neck.

Niathal paused to look as well. "Think of all the extra work that would land on my desk if anything happened to you."

"I heal fast." The animal was caparisoned in ancient battle harness, trampling a figure-its own rider, judging by the matching leathers. "How ungrateful. A beast trying to destroy the master who guides it safely through the battlefield."

"Or unseating him for using the spurs too much..." Niathal inhaled as if she were savoring the chemical smells of recent work onboard.

"Lovely thing, a new ship."

Pellaeon emerged from the compartment, creaseless and composed, and fixed a steady dark gaze on Caedus. It was their first encounter since Caedus had entered military ranks.

"Our eponymous animal, the bloodfin, "Pellaeon said. "Most apt."

"I thought it was just a simple marine predator that was only a threat in its home waters..."

"A borrowed name, Colonel, because they both share this splendid red appendage." Pellaeon ran his fingertip over the glowing red pigment.

Caedus felt the old admiral's curious blend of disciplined anger and enjoyment. "We once used these bloodfins as cavalry mounts, because they were ferocious fighters in their own right, with a much greater range than you might imagine. They remain a re-minder to us that we should all be careful of the dangerous creatures we ride, because we have to dismount sooner or later. If we're cruel or careless, the beast may even throw us. And once the rider falls under its hooves, it will devour him."

The silence hung like a weight for three beats.

"I'm glad we have speeder bikes these days, "Tahiri said.

Caedus went into the meeting unsure whether Tahiri just couldn't follow the subtext, or if she was much more arch and sly than he realized. He decided on the latter. Once the business of agreeing on plans for the engagement began, personal barbs were temporarily sheathed and everyone concentrated on the task at hand, which was the isolation of Fondor and the containment of any fleet a.s.sets it might still have on its surface. Caedus examined the holoimages carefully. It was hard to tell from reconnaissance imaging whether the vast numbers of vessels and a.s.sorted craft on Fondor-one giant manufacturing site, in effect-were operational or customers' orders.

"In the absence of the mine net containing surface-based threats, this is a time-consuming task, "Caedus said. "I suggest placing Third and Fourth fleet fighter wings inside the ring, for recce and rapid response to counterattacks from the surface, and a Destroyer and frigate flotilla to hit whatever dares raise its head. Meanwhile, we devote the rest of the two fleets to taking out the orbital yards' own defenses, and then land an a.s.sault force to secure them. The Imperials will be on the outer ring to counter the inevitable reappearance of the Fondorian fleet."

Pellaeon stroked the first knuckle of his forefinger down his mustache, nose to lip, as if lost in thought while he studied the holochart.

"The aim is still to take the yards in one piece..."

"Yes, "said Niathal firmly, looking to Caedus even though Pellaeon was asking.

"Which, as I'm sure you've made allowance for, means holding the yards long-term, which means... we also need to hold Fondor itself long-term, quite apart from neutraliz-ing its fleet, or else we'll be under siege ourselves on those orbitals." Pellaeon held up three fingers. He glanced at Tahiri. "Three distinct battles in one, two of them possibly a semi-permanent commitment, unless we can perform a ma.s.s lobotomy on the Fondorian government and people overnight, and get them to love us."

Caedus felt the trap creak, but saw no pit beneath. Ordi-nary beings often made those mistakes. He wasn't prey to uncertainty. If he changed his mind, it was due to dynamic risk a.s.sessment.

"If you're saying we can't do this, or that the commit-ment is too much for the Imperial Remnant, then say so. Most expeditionary wars involve entering places where we're far from welcome. That's what wars are."

Pellaon was still stroking his mustache. "I'm just saying that subduing a civilian population is much harder than smashing a fleet."

"Not if you project sufficient power, "said Caedus. Pel-laeon didn't blink. "Which force are we talking about, the unseen one available to you, or the one that goes bang?"

"Conventional force."

"Bombing civilian populations can be a desperately slow way of breaking their will, actually. In my very long expe-rience, most don't give in until they're standing in rubble and there's not even a stick left to fight with. In the shorter term, they just dig in. It's their home. They've nowhere to retreat."

Caedus ignored the lure of an argument. They had different priorities: Caedus wanted Fondor broken as an ex-ample to everyone of how serious he was about forging a united galaxy capable of responding to those yet-unknown but very real threats like the Yuuzhan Vong. But Pellaeon was looking at a working a.s.set that the GA-or the Imperials-could claim. Niathal probably favored that, too. It was small-scale and-in galactic planning terms-short-term.

How very typical.

Niathal was very quiet. And she hadn't said a word about Jedi StealthXs wandering around at will in the fleet a.s.sembly area. Any commander would have been in a flap about that, unless they thought it was a problem that didn't have their name on it.

I'm not stupid, Admiral.

"Thoughts?" said Caedus, looking her way.

"I've often fought the urge to reduce a planet to molten slag myself, "Niathal said, unmoved. "Probably for totally different reasons to you, Colonel. But I agree with Gil-holding what we seize is going to be a drain on resources, unless Fondor shows some pragmatism and rolls over. Let's give them an extra reason for doing that, beyond annihilation."

"Such as?" said Pellaeon.

"Make it worth their while. They rejoin the GA and play by our rules, and allow a token force to remain for a while to make sure they mean it, and we give them special status-guaranteed GA work for their yards and factories in perpetuity."

"That's not unlike their status under the old Empire, as I recall..., "said Pellaeon. "Handy hypers.p.a.ce lane just for that, too."

"Well, then, "Niathal said, "we already have a tested plan for making that work, don't we, Gil? An economic oc-cupation is always better than a military one."

Caedus kept a careful eye on the unseen, unspoken nego-tiation going on right now between Niathal and Pellaeon. He could see the deal shaping, and that it wouldn't include him. Unlike mundane beings, Sith were never shocked by that. They expected and welcomed it.

"Let's fine-tune our strategy, then, "Caedus said. "We isolate Fondor as planned, begin securing the orbitals, and then see if they're more open to suggestions after we've softened them up for a few hours."