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“The honor is mine,” Jaina said dryly. She went on, “And thanks for the suggestion. I’ve been wondering what to call this rock. Trickster sounds just about right.”

“That is not suitable. It is not possible. There is more to naming a ship than you could possibly know.”

“It requires a special affinity, a deep attunement,” Jaina said. “Is that one of the things I couldn’t possibly know?”

Raw fury flooded the Yuuzhan Vong’s face. “Whatever paltry tricks you may have in mind will serve no purpose. The attunement has been transferred. My ability to speak to you indicates that my ship’s yammosk is making contact with your dovin basal. Any minor control you have over the Ksstarr—”

“The Trickster,” Jaina corrected.

“—will be superseded,” he finished, ignoring the interruption.

Tahiri let out a small gasp. To her credit, she did not remove the navigation hood.

“You are establishing contact?” Jaina repeated in feinted alarm.

“It is done.”

Jaina turned the villip upside down, causing it to invert and break contact with the priest. She turned to her friends with a triumphant smile. The wave of shock and condemnation hit her like a physical blow.

“Before you say anything, let me explain. Lowbacca has been playing with the ship’s sensors. We’re receiving their signal, but blocking ours.”

“You can’t be sure of that!” Zekk protested.

“I’m sure,” Tahiri broke in. “The Yuuzhan Vong ships manipulate gravity. That’s how they move, shield, even navigate. I’m hooked up to this thing. I should know.”

“Go on,” Ganner urged.

“The sensors gather information from shifts in gravity fields. Every ship has a pattern, sort of like a signature.”

“That’s right,” Jaina broke in. “Lowbacca used some parts from the Hornet to rig up a mechanical disruption. The dovin basal doesn’t know that the signals it’s sending the yammosk are scrambled.”

“It sounds feasible,” Ganner said, doubt still suffusing his voice. “But if you’re wrong, the Yuuzhan Vong might follow us to Hapes. We’d be endangering a world—a system—that is in no shape to defend itself.”

“They know we’re heading there,” Jaina pointed out, “which makes a Yuuzhan Vong attack on Hapes all but a foregone conclusion. They’ll have to make a stand eventually.”

“They?” Ganner asked, eyeing her with speculation. “Not we?”

“I’ve got someplace else to be. The rest of you are welcome to come or stay, as you choose.”

“You’re going after Jacen,” he stated.

She shrugged. “Was there ever any doubt?”

“What’s your goal, Jaina?” Zekk said softly. “Obviously it’s not survival. You don’t really expect to rescue Jacen—not even you could be that … optimistic,” he said, improvising in response to the lowering storm in her eyes. “The way I see it, that leaves vengeance.”

“Which leads to the dark side,” she said impatiently. “Spare me—I’ve heard all the arguments. Repeatedly. The way I see it, Jedi have a responsibility to act. Act! We don’t have the luxury of philosophical debates. It was the schism between Jacen and Anakin, their endless dithering over ‘what a Jedi should be,’ that brought them both down.”

“That’s unfair,” Tahiri whispered. “It’s cruel.”

“Is it? Let’s look at the facts: Anakin is dead, Jacen was captured. If the surviving Jedi continue to dither, we will be destroyed and the Yuuzhan Vong will have won.”

They stood in silence for a long moment as they considered her grim logic.

Alema was the first to speak. “We Twi’leks have a saying: If you refuse to decide, the decision is made without you.”

“Get the job done,” Ganner agreed.

“Time to hunt!” the Barabel shouted from his position at the stern.

“You’ll need a healer,” Tekli said with a sigh of resignation.

Jaina turned to Zekk, a question in her eyes.

“I’ll be remaining on Hapes, or going where I am most needed,” he said softly, a world of regret in his eyes.

Who could need him more than Jacen? Jaina tamped down the surge of anger and accepted his decision with a curt nod. But she made no attempt to shield her emotions from him.

For a moment she felt Zekk waver, felt the strength of