Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 11_ Dark Journey - Elaine Cunningham [85]
And so Trisdin had died as the traitor he truly was. The best way to handle men, in Ta’a Chume’s observation, was to allow them to follow their natural inclinations.
Manipulating him into “liberating” the pirates was a most convenient way of disposing of the young man—while advancing the purposes of Ta’a Chume’s new protégée.
With Jaina safely away from Hapes, it was time to act. Ta’a Chume reached for a thin sheet of flimsy and began an equally cryptic response. It was time to send another ambassador to solve another problem—a problem Ta’a Chume had faced before, and one of her few and bitterly regretted failures.
Twenty years ago, Han Solo had refused to relinquish his princess to the Hapan royal family. This time, Ta’a Chume intended to ensure that he made a very different choice.
TWENTY
Jag Fel’s borrowed landspeeder skimmed along the streets of the Hapan city. Another time, he might have found the ornate buildings and their tropical gardens interesting, but today he was too deep in thought to care overmuch about his surroundings.
For most of his twenty years, Jag had devoted himself to learning military tactics, first from his family and then at the Chiss military academy. He’d devoted nearly as much time to developing logic and problem-solving skills as he’d spent learning to fly. But when it came to Jaina Solo, all this hard-won expertise abandoned him.
Jaina Solo was an excellent pilot, but her skills were no match for his own. In simulated flight, he’d shot her out of the sky nearly every time. For that matter, he could name several Chiss who’d flown under his command who matched her skill, and a few who were even better. Jaina was a Jedi, which was interesting but basically irrelevant.
He’d gone looking for Jaina again this morning, hoping to mend the incomprehensible quarrel between them, only to learn that she’d just left for another world in the far-flung Hapes Cluster. And she’d taken one of Jag’s best pilots with her, without any request, formal or otherwise.
It bothered him that she hadn’t requested a leave of absence for Kyp Durron. Even a Rogue Squadron pilot should have had more regard for protocol than that!
But she had not, and now she and Kyp were gone.
And Jag was on his way to the refugee camp, which made less sense to him than anything Jaina had done.
But if Jag was honest with himself—which he invariably was, even though he often found it a highly uncomfortable habit—he had to admit that his real purpose was a desire to meet the infamous Han Solo.
Princess Leia had disdained suitable personal and political alliances in favor of a rogue—a disgraced Imperial officer who’d found his niche as a smuggler. If any logic had guided her choice, Jag intended to find it. And if there was none, perhaps the alliance that had created Jaina Solo would serve as enlightenment—or perhaps as deterrent.
Almost before he realized it, Jag had left the city behind. The vast landing docks were crowded with ships and bustling with refugees, most of whom seemed determined to get offworld. Tempers were high, and the white uniform of the Hapan militia was much in evidence.
Beyond the landing docks lay vast open areas—parklands and lakes and deep forests that provided hunting and recreation for the citizens of the royal city. This had been given over to the refugees. As Jag approached, he struggled to see something of the land’s reputed beauty.
The sheer sprawl of the refugee camp staggered him. Rows of tents stretched across what had once been a parklike vista and disappeared into a distant forest. Jag showed his credentials