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Another convincing voice, Kyp mused. It was difficult to miss the spark of interest between Jag Fel and Jaina. The two of them, with a little guidance and a nudge or two in the right direction, could become a very potent force. He briefly pondered the possibilities of this, and the logistics.

“Your father’s a baron, right?”

“He is. Why do you ask?”

“Diplomatic vessels have been coming in from all over the cluster. Word has it there’s a state dinner at the palace this evening. If you want to talk to Jaina, that title might get you invited.”

“The palace?” Jag echoed incredulously. “She is not with her parents?”

“Not from what I hear.”

A long, astonished sigh hissed through the comm. “That, I do not understand. I also lost two siblings in battle. At such times, family provides much-needed support.”

“She has friends in the palace. Jedi,” Kyp specified. He let that remark lie where it fell.

“I see.”

Jag’s cool tone suggested that enough had been said on this subject. Kyp considered and discarded several nextstep remarks, searching for the words most likely to move the young pilot in the desired direction. “Do you believe in destiny?”

“If you mean the faithful development of inborn abilities and adherence to the duty at hand, then yes, I do.”

“Close enough. Have you considered the possibility that the people in this galaxy simply don’t know what to do about the Yuuzhan Vong, and never will? That perhaps the answer will come from an outsider’s perspective?”

“I hadn’t thought in quite those terms, no.”

Kyp considered the wreckage of the Hornet Interceptors and the skill and conviction of the young commander from the Unknown Regions. “Well, maybe you should.”

SIXTEEN

Tenel Ka made her way across the ridge of the palace armory’s steeply sloped roof, running lightly and in perfect balance. The sprawling inner courtyard lay below her, and from this vantage she commanded a clear view of the west gate. Several guards were stationed on either side of the portal, which was used only by members of the royal family. Her father was due to return shortly, and a strong premonition prompted Tenel Ka to set her own watch.

She sped up as she approached the end of the roof and hurled herself into the air. Soaring over the three-meter divide without benefit of her Jedi powers, she landed in a crouch on the lower, flatter roof of the palace kitchens.

As she sprinted toward the western edge of the roof, she scanned the gardens and pens below. Guards walked the parameters of the palace walls, vigilant against threats to the royal family, but from time to time they seemed to forget how many royals had fallen to members of their own household. Other than the garden maze, the kitchen wing offered the best potential ambush sites. It was also conveniently situated right next to the west bailey.

The brazen keening of dugglehorns cleaved the air, announcing Prince Isolder’s approach. Tenel Ka crouched and crept cautiously to the edge of the roof.

Several cooks stood at a long wooden table, transforming a small mountain of game birds into the main course for the evening feast. The steady thump of the cleaver set a counterpoint to the chatter of the young boys who plucked the feathers. Beyond this scene of domestic slaughter lay the herb garden. Two men in loose Hapan tunics picked bitter herbs for salad. Both wore hoods to protect their skin from the bright afternoon sun. More servants went about other tasks—picking berries for pastries, lugging foaming pails of cream from the milk house, scything down clusters of nuts.

Tenel Ka’s cool gray eyes darted over gardens and outbuildings, looking for anything that seemed out of place. All appeared to be as it should be. She watched as one of the older men climbed the stairs to the blizcot, a large birdhouse that enticed the plump little bliz to enter and nest. Their tiny, pink-shelled eggs were a Hapan delicacy and would certainly be included on the evening menu. The old man climbed slowly, hauling himself along the railing with one hand and