Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 05_ Allies - Christie Golden [62]
“—is under siege,” came the too-familiar voice of Javis Tyrr. “A siege, right here in Coruscant. One might think that Chief of State Daala has run out of ideas, or reverted to the days of the past, where one ruled with an iron fist.”
“That was fast,” Jaina said quietly.
Jag turned his attention from grainy, stock holofootage to stare at her. “You knew about this?”
“I was trying to tell you,” Jaina said, her voice unusually quiet. “Daala contacted Master Hamner—”
“—about the families, right, but—”
Jaina looked like she was about to punch a wall. Instead, she took a deep breath.
“Jag. She’s laying siege to the Temple. Using Mandalorians. It’s too late to get the StealthXs out. She acted too fast. She’s not about to listen to us. But you can still help me. Please.”
Jag turned from her to the sight of Mandalorians enclosing the Temple. He thought about what Jaina was asking him to do. He thought about Daala, riding this guarlara right off a cliff in an effort to extract two Jedi. He thought about the attack on himself—and on the Solos. The attack they all suspected Daala had orchestrated.
Suspected.
They didn’t know for sure.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and gazed up at his fiancée.
“I will talk to Daala, and try to get her to end the siege,” he said, his voice cool and calm and quiet. “More than that—I cannot do.”
Jaina froze, like a statue, for a long moment. Finally, she spoke, and her voice was subdued and strangely gentle. “I shouldn’t have asked this of you. I shouldn’t have asked you to bend so far you’d break, and that’s exactly what I did.”
“Jaina, I’m sure there’s some other—”
“We’re not going to be able to make this work, Jag. No matter how much we want to. Our duties are always going to come between us. This is something I have to do … just like your refusing to help is something you have to do. I’m sorry.”
Then, slowly, she reached with her right hand, pulled off the engagement ring, and placed it with surprising tenderness down on the desk. Tears stood in her eyes, but she rose without trembling and walked out.
He could have called her back. He could have apologized, offered to covertly send her anything she wanted. She’d have leapt into his arms, holding him tight, and all would be well between them again.
Except it wouldn’t. She was right. Jag was who he was, and Jaina was who she was, and once again, for a final time, that had come between them.
Jagged Fel reached out slowly, grasped the engagement ring tightly in his hand, and, expressionless as his heart cracked within him although there was no one to see, watched the news unfold.
Dorvan’s comm buzzed. “Dorvan.”
Daala’s voice. “Turn on the holonews. Now.”
Dorvan sighed and obeyed. He had protested the installation of a vidscreen in his office, but recently Daala had been insistent. As she said, it was not as if her chief of staff would be caught watching daytime holodramas.
He suspected what he would see even before the reporter’s distinctive, oh-so-irritating voice came on. Mercifully, Dorvan was spared the sight of the fellow. Instead, the cam focused on the Jedi Temple, surrounded by Mandalorians in their distinctive armor.
“—is under siege. A siege, right here in Coruscant. One might think that Chief of State Daala has run out of ideas, or reverted to the days of the past, where one ruled with an iron fist.”
As he talked, there was grainy, jumpy stock footage of familiar figures. One was a pleasant-looking older man with thick, wavy silver hair and kindly eyes. He was standing and speaking passionately before the Senate. The other was a shot of a distinctive moving figure in black, with a cloak flowing behind him and a mask that morphed into the face of Jacen Solo.
Dorvan