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Borleias

Jag was waiting for Jaina when she emerged from her briefing with General Antilles. “A moment of your time, Great One?” he asked.

She cocked her head as if considering the demands on her time, then nodded. “A moment.”

He led her from the office and gestured down the hall to a little-used conference room.

When they were within, and the door shut behind them, she wrapped her arms around his neck, felt his strength as he pulled her to him. She overbalanced him, shoving him toward the wall beside the door, and kissed him. The boom of Jag’s shoulders hitting the wall startled her out of the kiss and she laughed.

“There goes discretion,” Jag said. He smiled, the expression characteristically subtle enough to be missed by most observers.

“Got carried away,” she said. “I’d like to be carried away.”

“I have the time if you do.”

She shook her head, regretful. “I have to find a pilot to bring into Twin Suns. Your uncle is giving me a B-wing, the same one Lando used to escape from the Record Time mission, and I need a pilot for it.” She gave him a wicked smile. “I get to go to anyone I want and see if I can persuade him to leave his squadron. Another reason for all the other squadron commanders to hate me.”

“They don’t need any more reasons. You’re a better pilot than any of them. And you’re even prettier than Colonel Darklighter of the Rogues.”

She thumped his chest.

“All right, you’re prettier than Captain Reth with the Blackmoons.”

She thumped him harder.

“Prettier than Wes Janson with the Yellow Aces?”

“I’m going to break a bone you’ll need later.”

He finally grinned, pleased with her reaction to his teasing. “Do you have any pilots in mind?”

“I was thinking of asking Zekk.”

Jag frowned. “He’s not that good.”

“Well, he’s adequate, and I don’t plan for the B-wing to be a major contributor to our skirmishes. I’m going to have it fitted as a control station for some of my goddess stunts. It’ll be a little mobile headquarters.”

“All the more reason to have a top-notch pilot in it. If it’s not going to be an assault craft, it needs to be able to dodge and outfly pursuers.”

“Do you have a pilot in mind?”

He considered, then nodded. “Shuttle pilot named Beelyath. He flies rescue missions picking up EV pilots. I’ve seen him do some pretty good tricks with his shuttle and fly into enemy fire to pick up pilots. He was one of the ones who helped us retrieve those ejected victims when the Yuuzhan Vong worldship came into the system. And he’s Mon Cal. I know he has starfighter experience, which makes me suspect he has B-wing experience.”

“I’ll talk to him.” She could feel her spirits sag just a little, could feel the smile leave her face. “I have to go. We just can’t seem to find much time, can we?”

“Do you have another sixty seconds?”

“Yes.”

He leaned down for another kiss.

Yuuzhan Vong Worldship, Coruscant Orbit

“Speak,” Tsavong Lah said.

Nen Yim straightened from her bow. “I have subjected the samples I took from your arm to analysis.”

“Is my situation favorable?”

“It is, Warmaster. The cure to your situation is no more complicated than refusing any further treatments at the hands of Ghithra Dal. Material I found upon your arm, material that must have come from Ghithra Dal touching you, inspires the radank leg to continue growing. It is absorbed into your skin and carried into the depths of your arm by the carrion-eaters. Remove the material and the condition should end.”

“Yet if I were to discontinue treatment at the hands of Ghithra Dal, he would know that I suspect him.”

Wisely, Nen Yim chose not to reply. Whether she had an opinion on the matter or not, she knew it was not her place to advise the warmaster on matters of strategy; any recommendation she could make would not be well received.

“Can you shape a material that would negate the effects of Ghithra Dal’s doings while allowing him to continue to treat me?”

“Perhaps, Warmaster. But the material that coaxes your radank leg to grow as it does is very subtle, very complex. It could be that Ghithra Dal has been developing it for a very long