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Had he been another man, he would have offered her some flippant gesture, but he was Jagged Fel, known among pilots and Jedi everywhere as the most humorless—

Come to think of it, he wasn't Jag Fel right now. He was a mystery man, and needed for his role in this affair never to be associated with Jag Fel. So he blew a kiss to Zilaash Kuh before resuming his seat and slamming the hatch shut. Kuh's vehicle dropped farther behind until it was lost in the distance.

Mirax had to shout for Jaina to hear her. “Two pursuers down.”

“The next to last one is ours,” Jaina shouted back. “Tahiri and Jag are in it.” She got back to work, bringing out the sedative pack that all the Darkmeld conspirators on this mission were carrying. She injected Seff with its contents. This was slow work; Mirax's aerobatics with the speeder made even the simplest medical procedure next to impossible.

Finally it was done. Making sure her garment hood was up, concealing her features, she turned away from Seff and back toward the pursuers.

Even for an experienced Jedi Knight, it took concentration to lift a speeder telekinetically, especially when its rapid movements made it a difficult target. But she found it, grasped it, and shoved it sideways—gently but irresistibly. Its right side ground into the tunnel wall, abrading the metal there, filling the vehicle's main compartment with sparks and smoke. Suddenly the pilot was decelerating, descending, in a frantic effort to retain control of his vehicle.

She did the same with the next vehicle, and then, as Tahiri closed, with the last vehicle in the caravan.

Suddenly there was no enemy pursuit. Tahiri switched her lights and siren off.

Jaina, more familiar with Coruscant than most of the others, navigated, guiding Mirax to a shadowy nook off a major thoroughfare. The two speeders settled there in the darkness.

Jag took a moment to yank the security speeder's recording device and crush it beyond any possible retrieval of data. Then the five conspirators gathered. Winter, though groggy, her reflexes shot, was at least awake again.

“All right.” Jaina looked at each of the others—confused but resolute Mirax, sweaty but confident Jag, relieved Tahiri, pale but smiling Winter. “We're almost done. Mirax, you'll come with me. We need to steal another speeder, then pick up the rest. Then you'll drop me on a specific rooftop not far from where all that mess took place. Jag, do you need to get back to the Imperial Remnant embassy?”

“Galactic Empire. And yes.”

“All right. Drop Jag off near there. Then, Tahiri, I need you to guide Mirax to the Masters' speeder hangar access at the Temple. Tekli will get you in.”

While Jaina and Mirax were gone, Winter removed forensic evidence from the security speeder and Mirax's stolen red vehicle. Jag pulled off all his armor, dressing once more in the now ridiculously large black tunic. After Jaina and Mirax returned with the new acquisition, a sturdy yellow hard-top speeder with enough room for two adults, eight younglings, and a Wookiee, Jag stored his armor in its cargo compartment, along with the Quarren's net and incriminating items of clothing. Stripped of armor, he once again became a well-muscled man of normal size.

Jaina gave him one last, worried look. “Not too many non-Mandos have beskar breastplates and crushgaunts. The fact that you do isn't well known, but—”

He put a finger on her lips to shush her. “There's nothing to worry about. I have an alibi. Like all sensible Heads of State, I have a double, hard at work pretending to be me back in my quarters.”

She moved his finger aside. “My mother didn't use a double.”

“Well, she was clearly crazy.”

That drew a short laugh from Winter. The others looked at her.

Winter indicated herself, Jaina, and Jag. “That sounds like a toast for all our families. Here's to crazy women, and the pilots who pursue them.”

Jag raised an imaginary glass in her direction.

CAVERNS OF THE HIDDEN ONE, DORIN

BEN WASN'T GLASSY-EYED, BUT HE WANTED TO BE. HOURS OF USING pickaxes to hack away at living rock had tired and infuriated