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Jaina watched with a strange sense of detachment as the alien ship released plasma at her command, as the death of coralskippers and their Yuuzhan Vong pilots was painted in brief, brilliant splashes against the dark canvas of space. All of this was a fever dream, nothing more, and Jaina was merely a character caught in her own nightmare.

Jacen is gone.

It didn’t seem possible. It wasn’t possible. Jacen was alive. He had to be. How could she be alive if Jacen was not? Her twin brother had been a part of her, and she of him, since before their birth. What they were could not be separated from what they were to each other.

Her thoughts tumbled like an X-wing in an out-of-control spiral. Jaina’s pilot instincts kicked in, and she eased herself out of the spin.

Reaching out through the Force, she strained beyond the boundaries of her power and training as she sought her brother. Where Jacen had been was only blackness, as unfathomable as space. She went deep within, frantically seeking the place within her that had always been Jacen’s. That, too, was veiled.

Jacen was gone. Jaina did not feel bereft, but sundered.

A burst of plasma flared toward the stolen ship. Jaina responded with one of her own. It streamed toward the incoming plasma bolt like a vengeful comet. The two missiles met like waves from opposing oceans, casting sprays of bright plasma into the darkness.

Zekk threw himself to one side, straining the umbilicals on the pilot’s gloves in his attempt to pull the ship aside from the killing spray.

Fortunately for the Jedi, their Yuuzhan Vong pursuers were also forced to turn aside. This bought them a moment of relative peace—no immediate danger, no obvious target.

Jaina twisted in her seat until she could see the worldship where Anakin had fallen, where Jacen had been abandoned. It seemed odd, and somehow wrong, that such a terrible place could be reduced to a small lump of black coral.

“We’ll be back, Jacen,” she promised. “You hold on, and we’ll come for you.”

I’ll come for you, she added silently. She would go after Jacen alone, if it came down to that, as Anakin had gone to Yavin 4 to rescue Tahiri.

Now Anakin was dead, and a battered and heartbroken Tahiri watched over his body. The small blond girl blazed in the Force like a nova—Jaina couldn’t help but feel her anguish. The bond between Anakin and Tahiri was different from that shared by twins, but perhaps no less intense.

The realization hit her like a thud bug. Anakin and Tahiri. How strange—and yet it felt right and perfect.

Tears filled Jaina’s eyes, refracting an incoming streak of molten gold into lethal rainbows. In the pilot’s seat, Zekk muttered a curse and wrenched the frigate’s nose up and hard to port. The alien ship rose in a sharp, gut-wrenching arc. Plasma scorched along the frigate’s underside, sheering off the irregular coral nodules with a shrill, ululating screech.

Jaina jerked her left hand from its living glove and fisted away her tears through the cognition hood that covered her face. Meanwhile the fingers of her right hand slid and circled as she deftly brought her target into focus. She jammed her left hand back into the glove and squeezed it into a fist, releasing a burst of plasma at the attacking coralskipper—an instant before it launched a second plasma.

Jaina’s missile struck the Yuuzhan Vong ship in that minuscule interval between shielding and attack. Shards of black coral exploded from its hull, and the snout heated to an ominous red as molten rock washed over it. Cracks fissured through the Yuuzhan Vong pilot’s viewport.

Again Jaina fired, and again, timing the attacks with skill honed through two long years and too many missions. The coralskipper’s projected gravity well swallowed the first missile; the second proved to be too much for the severely compromised hull. The ship broke apart, spilling its life out into the emptiness of space.

“I know that feeling,” Jaina muttered.

A small, strong hand settled on her shoulder. She felt Tenel Ka’s solid presence