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Lowbacca was silent for a long moment, then he whuffed sharply.

“Of course it will work,” she said stoutly. “The next step is finding a delivery method to implant other Vong ships. For that we’ll need ships and pilots willing to go head-to-head with our galaxy’s uninvited guests.”

The Wookiee’s eyes widened in enlightenment.

“That’s right,” she agreed. “That’s why we need Kyp Durron.”

Kyp settled down on the duracrete bench and regarded his prisoner. The Hapan pirate floated in a bacta tank, and would likely be there for quite some time. When he was healed of everything but his lost memory, Kyp would turn him loose.

That knowledge bothered him less than it ordinarily would. Freedom to pillage the skies seemed a small recompense for what the man had endured.

Kyp silently listed the laws he and Jaina had broken, and the lines they’d crossed. Helping prisoners escape from the Hapan officials, holding one of them and transporting him to another world, submitting him for scientific testing. He didn’t even want to think about the transfer of the pirate from their ship to the scientist’s lab. But he couldn’t ignore this particular disaster, or the conclusion it left with him.

Jaina was in trouble.

As he’d expected, she had proven to be a talented student. She’d very quickly followed Kyp’s lead, and had wiped inconvenient knowledge from the minds and memories of Gallinore scientists—including Lowbacca, a Jedi and probably her closest friend.

Kyp could have lived with that. He could not have stood by and watched while this man was “tested” into a near-death state. But Jaina had.

His apprentice had adopted his argument that the end result was more important than the path that led to it. She had pushed this philosophy to its far edges, forcing Kyp to consider whether there might, after all, be boundaries.

Kyp supposed there was a certain cosmic justice to this.

“So what next?” he muttered. Kyp wanted to defeat the Yuuzhan Vong. So did Jaina. Any energy he put into curtailing her efforts diminished the energy both of them could direct against the invaders. But how far could he let her go?

And more important, if and when the time came to stop her, would he be able to?

Jaina smoothed the skirt of her gown and settled down in the chair Ta’a Chume offered. The tight Hapan garments still pinched, but she was growing accustomed to them. “I heard about Trisdin.”

“And you’ve come to offer condolences?” the former queen said archly as she reached for her wine goblet.

“Actually, I came to get an eyeful of his successor,” Jaina responded in kind.

Ta’a Chume sputtered on the sip she’d just taken, and set the goblet aside. “You were right about him. His loyalties were uncertain. A rumor reached him that the imprisoned pirates could serve his interests, and those of the woman he wanted to see on my throne.”

Jaina quickly got a lock on the queen’s target. “So you didn’t send him there to free them.”

“Not directly, no.”

“And if he hadn’t been killed by the prisoners, he would have been caught and tried for treason.”

“According to Hapan law.” Ta’a Chume lifted an inquiring brow. “You don’t approve?”

“Actually, I do. No matter what happened, it doesn’t reflect back on you. I assume his ties to this aspiring queen can be traced.”

“Naturally. Her name, by the way, is Alyssia. This latest scandal might be enough to neutralize her. If not, I may require your assistance.”

Jaina nodded, accepting this. She set down the goblet of gold wine she’d been sipping. “Tell me about Sinsor Khal.”

“He was once a respected Hapan scientist with precisely the expertise you required. Unfortunately, this expertise was achieved at the cost of horrendous—and highly illegal—experimentation. But I suspect you’ve already come to this conclusion.”

Jaina nodded. “Are there others like him?”

The woman regarded her for a long moment. “How many do you need?” She sniffed at Jaina’s incredulous laugh. “Progress of any sort is not easily won. There are bound