Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 11_ Dark Journey - Elaine Cunningham [87]
Jag got a fleeting impression of small sculptures, ropes of azure pearls, ornate metal caskets heaped with gems. This, however, was a puzzle for another time. He kicked aside a painted vase and snatched up what appeared to be a small linen shirt. This he wadded up, preparing to press it against the wound.
“Wait,” a female voice demanded.
An older, grimmer version of Jaina pushed past him and dropped to her knees beside Han Solo. Her fingers gently slid into the matted hair and inquired about for a moment. She grimaced and drew out a sharp fragment.
“Good. It wasn’t in very deep,” she murmured, and held out one hand. Jag placed the wadded shirt in it. She gently held it in place with one hand. The other she splayed over her husband’s chest. Her eyes drifted shut, and an intense listening expression fell over her face. A medical droid rolled into the tent and gently nudged Leia aside. Jag extended a hand, which she accepted with instinctive grace. She rose and watched as the medical droid tended the wounded man.
“There’s a thin crack in the skull,” the droid announced.
“Han’s skull. How is that possible?” she marveled in a distracted tone.
She took a long, steadying breath. By the time she turned to Jag, she was the calmly controlled diplomat he had first glimpsed at the diplomatic reception over Ithor.
“I hear that you stopped the fight and called for assistance. Thank you. I’d appreciate anything you can tell me about the attack.”
He described the scene he’d stumbled into, gave a brief description of the assailants, and then drew Leia’s attention to the pile of treasures in the corner of the tent. She caught her breath in a quick, startled gasp.
“I take it this was not an attempt at theft,” he concluded.
“Those things aren’t mine,” Leia said in a tightly controlled voice, “and they never will be.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Jag ventured.
Leia glanced up at him. “The giving of a dowry is a Hapan custom. Twenty years ago, Prince Isolder sent ambassadors to Coruscant and presented me with a pile somewhat larger than this.” She paused for a brief, humorless smile. “Obviously, I’ve depreciated over time.”
“More likely Hapes’s resources have been sorely strained by the war.”
This time the woman’s smile held genuine amusement. “When this war is over, Colonel Fel, you would do very well in the diplomatic service. For the moment, though, a few questions more. You said that some of the assailants wore uniforms. What kind?”
“Hapan royal guards, I believe. The uniforms were of one piece, like a flight suit. Quite fitted, deep red.”
“Not even Ta’a Chume would be bold enough to send uniformed assassins,” Leia mused. “They must have come to speak to me, and found Han instead. He would not be amused by their offer.”
The droid spun to face them. “The patient is stabilized. He can be moved for treatment. Proper medical transport awaits just outside the camp. Permission to arrange interim transport.”
Leia nodded her thanks and the droid rolled out. She knelt beside her husband, and a flicker of indecision touched her face.
“You are apprehensive about sending him to a Hapan medical facility,” Jag surmised. “Forgive me, but I’m not unfamiliar with General Solo’s early reputation. No doubt I’m not alone in this knowledge. Is it possible that this attack was an assassination attempt carried out in plain sight?”
She considered this, and then nodded. “That’s an astute observation. It wouldn’t be the first time Han was provoked into a fight. Once the first punch is thrown, how does one prove whether any resulting death was an accident or an assassination?”
“That was my thinking, yes. I understand the tactics, but not the motivation.”
“The former queen mother does not approve of the reigning queen, and she has made it plain more than once that she considers me a possible replacement. It’s entirely likely that she views Han as an ‘inconvenience,