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Jaina nodded her thanks. Before she could say anything, Tahiri caught the arm of a passing docking official. “How can we get a repulsorsled? We have a casualty aboard. We need to take him to his parents in the refugee camp.”

The woman pulled away and swept a hand toward the grassy area beyond the dock. Rows of wounded lay on white pallets. Sheets had been pulled up over many of them. “I’m sorry, but yours is hardly a unique situation.”

Jaina’s eyes narrowed. She came to stand at Tahiri’s side, faced down the official and moved her hand in a slight subtle gesture. “You will find Han and Leia Solo in the refugee camp and inform them that their daughter has arrived.”

The official’s eyes widened, only partly due to the subtle Jedi compulsion. “This casualty you spoke of. That wouldn’t be Anakin Solo, would it?”

This set Jaina back on her heels. “You’ve heard?”

“Who hasn’t!” she said, her tones rounded with near reverence. “The HoloNet—or what’s left of it—has been playing Princess Leia’s exhortation to the people of Coruscant almost nonstop since the battle. Of course I’ll send word!”

The woman hurried off. Tahiri shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and glanced back toward the Yuuzhan Vong ship. Impatience and repugnance came off her in waves, and an almost frantic desire to get away. Still, Jaina couldn’t see wandering around the refugee camp with this particular cargo in tow.

“Maybe we should wait for my parents here,” Jaina suggested.

Green fire flared in Tahiri’s eyes. “How can you think about leaving Anakin in there one nanosecond longer than we have to!”

Jaina was about to point out that Anakin was past caring about such things. Yet it was hard to forget the grim compulsion that had driven her to recover her brother’s body from the worldship, at great risk to herself and the other Jedi.

She tamped down her impatience. “Be practical. We can’t exactly cruise around Hapes with a repulsorsled. My parents will want a funeral—well, my mother will, anyway—and she’ll make sure everything is handled in a dignified, proper fashion.”

The official hurried back, followed by a repulsorsled and two somber-faced assistants. “They look sort of dignified,” Tahiri ventured.

“All right,” she conceded. “They can get him off the ship.” She told them where to find her brother’s body. In short order they emerged from the ship, flanking a white-draped sled. Tahiri’s eyes filled.

Jaina abruptly turned and put several quick paces between herself and the young Jedi. She folded her arms and leaned against the Trickster, staring out over the bustling docks.

Before long she noted a two-person landspeeder skimming toward them. Almost before it stopped, Leia flung herself from it and hurried to her daughter, her eyes bright with relief.

She stopped abruptly when her gaze fell on the sled, and the color drained from her face.

“We brought Anakin with us,” Jaina said. “Jacen we couldn’t get to. I’m sorry.”

Leia took a long, steadying breath and tilted her chin into its familiar, imperious angle. From the corner of her eye, Jaina noticed Tahiri mirroring the older woman’s gesture, as if the outer form might serve as a vessel to hold something of Leia’s strength.

She stepped forward and embraced her daughter. “Don’t worry about Jacen,” she said softly. “He might seem fragile at times, but he’s a survivor.”

Jaina stiffened, startled by her mother’s comment. Leia was as sensitive to the Force as any trained Jedi, and in Jaina’s opinion, the epitome of grace under pressure. How could she block this?

Her eyes sought out her father’s face. Han looked from her to Leia, his eyes wary. He must have read the truth in Jaina’s eyes, because suddenly the color seeped from his face, leaving it gray and haggard and … old.

And suddenly Jaina had one more reason to hate the Yuuzhan Vong.

Her gaze slid away from the shattered face of the man who was both her father and her childhood hero. She eased out of her mother’s embrace, keeping her hands on