Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 11_ Dark Journey - Elaine Cunningham [5]
“We are doing the right thing for Jacen,” Tenel Ka said stoutly. “Because they have only one twin, they will harm neither. We suspected as much, but now we have proof. They are not trying to destroy this ship.”
“Couldn’t prove it by me,” Zekk muttered as he jinked sharply to avoid another plasma blast.
“Fact,” the warrior woman said bluntly. “Zekk, for two years you’ve flown cargo ships—a true contribution, but poor training for this escape.”
“Yeah? Here’s another fact: I haven’t gotten us killed yet.”
“And here are several more,” Tenel Ka retorted. “Jaina was in Rogue Squadron. She had access to New Republic intelligence on enemy ships. She has survived more dogfights than anyone here. If we are to survive, you must let her fly.”
Zekk started to protest, but another barrage cut him off. He zigzagged wildly to avoid incoming fire and then put the ship into a tumbling evasive dive. The force threw Tenel Ka into the seat behind the pilot. She muttered something in her native language as she struggled into the restraining loops.
Jaina braced her feet against the irregular coral floor and steeled herself for the punishing buildup of g-force. She expected her cognition hood to bulge out like the jowls of a Dagobian swamp lizard, but it remained comfortably in place. She filed the data away for future use. In any New Republic ship, this maneuver would have been punishing; apparently, the internal gravity of a Yuuzhan Vong ship was far more complex and adaptable.
Even so, for several moments speech was impossible. Jaina quickly ran through the list of survivors as she considered Tenel Ka’s words. Nine Jedi remained, just one more than half of their original strike force. Tahiri was only fifteen, and no pilot. She had been terribly wounded in body and spirit, and Tekli, the Chadra-Fan healer, was busy attending her. The reptilian Tesar, the sole survivor of the Barabel hatchmates, was working the shielding station in the stern. Lowbacca was needed everywhere, and since their escape he’d been dashing about patching the living ship’s wounds. When his efforts fell short, he’d alternately cajoled and threatened the ship in Wookiee terms so vivid that Em Teedee, the lost translator droid, would have been hard-pressed to come up with genteel euphemisms.
That left Tenel Ka, Alema Rar, and Ganner Rhysode. Jaina quickly dismissed Tenel Ka. Yuuzhan Vong ships were not designed with one-armed pilots in mind. Forget Alema. The Twi’lek female was emotionally fragile—Jaina could feel her teetering on the edge of mindless, vengeful frenzy. Put Alema in the pilot’s seat, and she’d likely plot a suicidal plunge directly at the worldship’s dovin basal. Ganner was a powerful Jedi, an impressive-looking man whose role in this mission had been to serve as decoy for the real leader—Anakin. Ganner had his points, but he wasn’t enough of a pilot to get them out of this.
Tenel Ka was right, Jaina concluded. Anakin had died saving the Jedi from the deadly voxyn. He’d left his last mission in Jacen’s hands, not hers, but she was the one left to see it through. The Jedi—at least the Jedi on this ship—were now her responsibility.
A small voice nudged into Jaina’s consciousness, barely audible over the screaming dive and the thrum and groan of the abused ship. In some dim corner of her mind huddled a small figure, weeping in anguish and indecision. Jaina slammed the door and silenced her broken heart.
“I need Ganner to take over for me,” she said as soon as she could speak.
A look of concern crossed Tenel Ka’s face, but she shrugged off her restraints and rose. In moments she returned with the older Jedi.
“Someone has to take my place as gunner,” Jaina explained. She stood up without removing either the gloves or hood. “No time for a learning curve—better work with me until you get the feel of it. The seat’s big enough for both of us.”
After