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Colonel Jagged Fel acknowledged the reprimand with a small bow and a faint, wry smile.

“You were trained by Chiss tacticians,” Baron Fel continued. “Tell me: do we have the ships, weaponry, personnel, or for that matter the knowledge needed to take on these invaders?”

“We do not,” Jag admitted. “Permission to speak freely?”

The baron lifted one hand in a gesture of assent.

“Chiss sages conclude that the Yuuzhan Vong must have spent generations traveling between galaxies. These invaders are not likely to consider the so-called Unknown Regions a daunting prospect.”

“I agree,” Baron Fel said. “The Chiss parliament does not, and neither do the Imperial leaders. The invasion path has swept steadily toward the Core Worlds, leading many to believe that the invaders will bypass both Chiss and Imperial territory entirely.”

As Jag absorbed this, his pale green eyes narrowed and his jaw squared. “This phalanx has never been ruled by the thinking of tradition-bound Chiss senators, or by Imperial politicians whose first concern is personal power. Was a change-of-policy holocube issued during my recent absence?”

The general’s eyebrows lifted. Jag inclined his head in a bow that held acknowledgment of his impropriety, but no apology.

“Chiss society pretends that Snydic Mitth’raw’nuruodo does not exist, but they know quite well that we are out here. They send their sons and daughters to this phalanx’s academies and bases. They were more than willing to accept the protection and technology that Thrawn’s conquests and alliances offered them, and they are willing to accept what we, successors to the grand admiral’s goals, can do for them.”

“But we could do more.” Jag took a step forward, his expression intense, his formality forgotten. “You know what we have faced out here. The Yuuzhan Vong might have caught Borsk Fey’lya and his ilk unaware, but the Chiss have long expected something of this nature. In fact, we have turned aside foes that might have swept across the galaxy and left little for these new invaders to destroy!”

The baron’s eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed as he considered his son’s passionate words. “You speak of yourself as one of the Chiss. Do you see yourself in that light?”

Jag blinked, put off stride by this seeming non sequitur. “It is difficult to do otherwise,” he said carefully. “I was raised among the Chiss, trained with them. Their rules and standards and expectations became my own.”

“You met and exceeded these standards, and as a result you command your former Chiss peers,” his father continued. “With rank comes responsibility. The course you propose shows little sense of responsibility for the pilots under your command.”

Jag’s face betrayed no opinion on this matter, but his bearing subtly reverted to a formal, military stance. “Sir, may I request that you list my failings plainly, so that I might address them.”

“Do you know how to stop the Yuuzhan Vong?”

A hint of a frown touched his forehead. “No, sir.”

“Then go find out. Report back. Once we’ve a better grasp of tactics and strategy, you’ll have your squadrons back, and more besides.”

Jag’s eyes widened and flicked to his father’s face. “Yes, sir!”

The baron grimaced and tapped a small metal cube on his desk. “You might not be quite so eager to hear this report. This holovid just came in from our agents in the Core. It contains, among other things, a recording of Leia Organa Solo’s exhortation to the defenders of Coruscant. She urged them not to give up, as she has not, despite the recent death of one of her children.”

This time Jag’s gaze shifted fully to the general. “Which one?”

Fel lifted one eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Which of Ambassador Solo’s children fell in battle?”

“Anakin, I believe. The younger son.”

Jag nodded thoughtfully, and there was something very akin to relief on his face. “Was there any news of the other two?”

A speculative gleam crept into the baron’s gaze. “You have met the Solo twins, I take it?”

“Jacen, no. Jaina Solo