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In Jaina’s current mood of dark exhilaration, it was easy to shrug off the Chiss’s comments. It wouldn’t be the first time the Chiss female—not to mention her human commander—had revealed a deeply inbred arrogance. So she didn’t think much of it when Shawnkyr pulled Jag aside to give him a private earful.

Later that night, the pilots were celebrated as heroes in the vast city square. Jag Fel did not attend the ceremony. Jaina smiled and danced, but all the while she wondered what the Chiss pilot had said—and why she cared about any of it.

Far away, in the Skywalker quarters on the hidden Jedi base, Luke settled his sleeping son carefully into his cot. He stood for a long moment, gazing into the tiny face.

A nameless dread seized him, a fear for this child that went beyond any concern he’d ever had over his own life. Luke searched his feeling through the Force, and found that his Jedi instincts on this matter were almost neutral. Ben was in no immediate danger, and the aura of the future did not hang over Luke’s sudden fear. The surge was something different, something that any parent, and perhaps every parent, might experience.

Han and Leia entered the room. Luke’s sister came up beside him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Parenting is the most terrifying thing I can imagine, even under the best of circumstances,” she said softly. “When you bring a child into dangerous times, it’s even worse.”

Luke felt the grief and guilt lurking beneath her calm tones. No response came to him—what words could mend the loss of two children? So he merely returned her embrace, trusting his brother-in-law to find a way to lighten the moment.

Han cleared his throat and manufactured a wry grin. “I don’t know what you’re worried about, Luke. Anything that wants to get near Ben has to go through Mara.”

“Me?” Mara retorted in kind. “I can just imagine how you’d react if someone intruded on Jaina’s space.”

Han’s face suddenly went blank. His wife pushed away from Luke and rushed over. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I remember starting that fight,” he said slowly, “and I remember why. Ta’a Chume’s ambassadors made an offer of marriage on Isolder’s behalf—not for you, Leia, but for Jaina.”

Leia’s eyes flew into rounded moons. “Well, that would certainly explain the mess you made of your knuckles! What did they offer?”

“A trade. We don’t try to talk Jaina out of marrying Isolder, they don’t hand over the refugees.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Mara put in. “Jaina would never agree to a trade.”

Now that the first jolt of surprise had passed, Leia wasn’t so sure. “I almost did.”

“What about Teneniel Djo?” Han demanded.

The three Jedi exchanged a concerned look. Mara fielded the question. “Unless her left hook is a lot better than yours, I’d say she’s in trouble.”

TWENTY-SIX

After the ceremony, Ta’a Chume called Jaina aside for a private meeting.

“You’ve done extremely well, but the Yuuzhan Vong will be back. It’s time that you knew my mind. I want Teneniel Djo off the throne, and Isolder to marry a queen capable of ruling during war.”

Jaina shrugged. “Unless you want me to help Teneniel Djo pack, I have no idea why you’re telling me this.”

The old queen sent her an arch, sidelong look. “I’ve often thought of how frustrating it must have been to always labor in the shadow of a famous mother.”

“A torpedo is launched, but no target is in sight,” Jaina observed.

“The target is very obvious. This is a common concern for young women in your position.”

“It’s the sort of thing that crosses your mind, sure, but war has a way of making adolescent angst seem petty.”

“But pettiness does not end with adolescence,” Ta’a Chume went on. “No doubt you’ve noticed Tenel Ka’s recent hostility toward you.”

“We’ve had our differences. There’s a lot of that going around among the Jedi.”

“When did my granddaughter become concerned with philosophy? No, Tenel Ka is prompted by a fear of being displaced by someone more worthy.”

Jaina massaged her temples with both hands, feeling a bit