Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 11_ Dark Journey - Elaine Cunningham [8]
The Wookiee made a couple of deft adjustments, then signaled readiness by bracing massive paws on either side of the console and uttering a resigned groan.
Jaina kicked the ship into hyperdrive. The force of the jump threw her back into the oversized seat and strained the umbilicals attaching her hood and gloves to the ship. Plasma bolts spread out into a golden sunrise haze; stars elongated into brilliant lines.
Then silence and darkness engulfed the Jedi, and a floating sensation replaced the intense pressure of sublight acceleration. Jaina pulled off the hood and collapsed back into her seat. As the adrenaline surge ebbed, Jaina felt the returning tide of grief.
She sternly willed it away and focused on her fellow survivors. The nervous twitching of Alema Rar’s head-tails slowed into the subtle, sinuous undulation common to Twi’lek females. Tenel Ka shook off her flight restraints and began to prowl about the ship—a sign of restlessness in most people, but the Dathomiri woman was most at ease when in motion. The Wookiee resumed his study of the navibrain. Ganner pulled off the cognition hood and rose, smoothing his black hair carefully back into place. He headed toward the back of the ship, most likely to check on Tahiri.
Jaina jerked her thoughts away from that path. She did not want to think about Tahiri, did not want to envision the girl’s vigil, or—
She sternly banished the grim image these thoughts evoked. When Zekk approached the pilot’s seat, she sent him a small, grateful smile. And why not? He was her oldest friend and a timely distraction—and he was a lot easier to deal with than most distractions that came her way these days.
Then his green eyes lit up in a manner that had Jaina rethinking her last observation.
“For a while, I thought we’d never see home again,” Zekk ventured. He settled down in the place Ganner had vacated and sent Jaina a wink and a halfhearted grin. “Should have known better.”
She nodded, accepting his tentative apology—and it was very tentative indeed. Her old friend tried to shield his emotions, but his doubts and concerns sang through.
“Let’s get this over with now, so we aren’t tempted to break up into discussion groups during the next crisis. You didn’t want me to fly the ship because you don’t trust me,” she stated bluntly.
Zekk stared at her for a moment. Then he let out a long, low whistle and shook his head. “Same old Jaina—subtle as a thermal detonator.”
“If you really believed that I haven’t changed, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Then let’s not. This isn’t the time.”
“You’re right,” she retorted. “We should have settled this days ago—all of us. Maybe then we wouldn’t have come apart down there.”
“What do you mean?” he said cautiously.
“Oh, come on. You were there. You heard Jacen obsessing over Anakin’s motives and methods, trying to make him question himself at every step and turn. You saw what happens when Jedi stop focusing on what we’re doing to quibble about how and why.”
A small, humorless smile touched her face. “It’s like the old story about the millitile who could walk just fine until someone asked how he kept track of all those legs. Once he started thinking about it, he couldn’t walk at all. Most likely he ended up as some hawk-bat’s dinner.”
“Jaina, you can’t blame Jacen for what happened to Anakin!”
“I don’t,” she said quickly. Since this was Zekk, she added, “At least, not entirely.”
“And you can’t blame yourself for Jacen, either.”
That, she wasn’t ready to concede and didn’t care to discuss.
“I was working my way toward a point,” she told him. “Jacen was distracted by this nebulous vision of a Jedi ideal. And you were distracted by your fear of the two Dark Jedi we freed.”
“For good reason. They took off and left us. They hurt Lowbacca and kidnapped Raynar. For all we know, they