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“You’re the captain,” his sister-in-law replied.

Leia’s face cleared suddenly as she understood the path his thoughts were taking. “Jaina? In that enemy ship?”

“One way to find out.”

Han fired a missile at the frigate, waiting a hair’s breadth longer than he had with Kyp. The Yuuzhan Vong ship rolled deftly aside as if the pilot had been expecting the attack. Han’s missile struck one of the skips that trailed protectively in its wake. A shielding singularity swallowed the first assault, but Mara finished the job with a quick one–two attack.

“That’s Jaina,” Han said firmly. “Thousands of pilots can get from here to there in an X-wing, but how many could make a hunk of rock twirl like a Twi’lek dancing girl?”

“Han—”

“Two,” he stated, answering his own question. “And I’m the other one.”

Still dubious, Leia turned to the Force for confirmation. Again she reached out to Jaina. Again she perceived not the vivid, impetuous energy she’d always associated with her daughter, but a storm-cloud presence—cool, impending, pitiless.

Leia frowned. Anger led to the dark side. She had heard this so many times. Yet the emotions that rolled off her daughter were disturbingly familiar, and very like Leia’s perception of her own father—not the spectral Anakin Skywalker who had begged her forgiveness, but his earlier, living incarnation as Darth Vader.

Never had Leia considered the possibility that Jaina, the most pragmatic and least complicated of her children, might slip into darkness. She reached for Jaina again, more insistently. Through the Force she sensed her daughter’s rejected pain, her carefully shielded emotions—and her unacknowledged thirst for revenge. It occurred to Leia that ice could be as deadly as fire.

If this insight proved true, then she’d lost another of her children, this time to something more terrible than death.

“Decide,” Han said tersely. “The Yuuzhan Vong could blame that frigate’s maneuver on the scrambled yammosk, but sooner or later Jaina’s gonna have to pick a side.”

She quickly shook off her fears and switched the comm to hailing frequency. “This is Leia Organa Solo aboard the Millennium Falcon. The Yuuzhan Vong frigate nearby is under the command of my daughter, Lieutenant Jaina Solo. Her Yuuzhan Vong escort does not realize this. Hold your fire, and we’ll see that the frigate escapes, and the coralskippers do not.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, then the pursuing X-wings pulled away.

The intercom crackled. “Leia, are you sure about this?” Mara asked. “I hate to admit it, but I don’t feel Jaina out there.”

She glanced at Han, who nodded. “We’re sure.”

The Yuuzhan Vong frigate, its way clear, shot off in rapid acceleration and disappeared into hyperspace. The Falcon followed, taking the short jump Leia had programmed.

Han’s shoulders slumped. His hand found hers, claimed it. “We did the right thing, didn’t we? I mean, letting a potential enemy go?”

The unwitting implication of his words nearly broke Leia’s heart. She met her husband’s eyes and read the rare moment of self-doubt written there.

“That was Jaina,” she asserted, both answering and avoiding his question.

His gaze sharpened. “Then why do you look so worried?”

For a moment Leia was tempted to share her doubts, to see if they might dissipate if given voice. But if she was wrong, planting this seed in Han’s mind would be selfish, even cruel. She would never accuse Han of favoritism, but Jaina had always been the child he understood best, the one who’d taken straight after him in talents and tastes, the kid who’d taken every opportunity to follow him around. Han would grieve terribly if Jaina were taken from them by this war, but he had lost others in battle and he could come to terms with it in time. This, though—this he could never comprehend.

“Well?” Han prompted. “What’s wrong?”

Leia settled on a partial truth. “Jacen wasn’t with Jaina. I can still sense him,” she added hastily, “but he wasn’t with her.”

Han nodded, taking this in. “Then we’ll have to trust them both to find their way