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TWELVE

Borleias Occupation, Day 39

In the hallway of the senior personnel quarters, where most of the Insiders kept their chambers, Jaina was held up by a crowd—Wedge, Iella, their daughters, Luke, Mara, little Ben, the Jedi Kam and Tionne Solusar from the Jedi academy, Han, Leia, and C-3PO. They were crowded into the hall in a mass of good-byes and last-minute instructions.

“I don’t want to go.” That was Syal, Wedge’s older daughter. Her voice was not raised in the high-pitched whine of the wheedler; though she couldn’t be older than ten, she was expressing a feeling rather than complaining. She was speaking as befitted a child who’d been trained to think, to express arguments logically, to express emotions clearly.

“I know,” Wedge said. He knelt beside both daughters and took them in his arms. “But where you’re going, I’ll worry less about you and can do my job better.”

“We’ll take good care of him.” That was Kam Solusar, to Mara and Luke. But Mara did not seem to hear; she was totally focused on her infant son, whom she held to her. Mara was whispering to her boy, and though Jaina strained to hear, she could not; Jaina wondered if Mara was perhaps not using words, but communing directly through the Force. Luke held them both, watching his son with a wondering expression.

Mara’s own expression contained none of the edginess and dark humor that were the parts of her everyone saw. This was not exactly a softened Mara, but it was a different Mara, one whose angles and thoughts were unfamiliar to Jaina. Jaina wondered what the baby was seeing, whether this view was, like some optical puzzles, something that only made sense or was recognizable when viewed from one specific angle.

For a moment Jaina felt a flash of emotion—her own, rather than Mara’s or the baby’s, but it was still unfamiliar to her. Envy, she thought, as it faded, but whom was she envying? Mara, or the baby?

“Hey, kid.” That was her father, finally noting her presence. “You here to see us off? Or are you running interference?”

“Uh … I didn’t even know you were going. I’m part of the main task force.”

Wedge reluctantly released his daughters and rose. “Jaina, this is the first mission to take the Jedi students, and some of the civilian children, such as mine, to the new safe zone. Han, I’ve got Nevil and Corran running interference for you.”

“Well, blast. Thought I was going to be able to give my daughter some much-needed flying lessons.”

Jaina didn’t rise to the bait. She just shrugged. “Some other time, maybe.”

With extraordinary gentleness and a reluctance she couldn’t conceal, Mara handed her son to Luke. She bent to kiss Ben’s forehead, then turned away … not swiftly enough for Jaina to miss the flash of pain in her features. Then Mara was walking back to her quarters, her stride long and her boot heels clicking in a manner that seemed absolutely normal, as if nothing out of the usual had just occurred.

“Come on, Junior Corellians.” Han turned away from the crowd, stooped just a little, and looked back over his shoulder. “Who wants a ride to the Millennium Falcon?”

“Me!” That was Myri, closer to Han than her sister. She jumped onto Han’s back; he locked his arms under her knees so she could ride piggyback.

Han scowled at C-3PO. “Come on, Goldenrod.”

“I am as ready to depart as I was at the beginning of this discussion, four minutes and thirty-eight seconds ago.”

“No, you pile of parts, I mean, do what I’m doing.” Han flexed, emphasizing his odd posture.

“As you wish, but I fail to see what will be gained …” C-3PO bent in an imitation of Han’s position, then added “Oh” as Syal, grinning, jumped onto his back.

“That’s it,” Han said. “Syal, don’t be afraid to use the whip, he’s willful and skittish.”

“Sir, I protest. These are adjectives that cannot properly be used to describe my behavior …”

Han set himself into motion, heading down the hallway, but rolled his eyes at Jaina. “I should have known better. She weighs as much as a wampa.”

“I do not!” Myri said.

They passed down the corridor, C-3PO and Syal following. Jaina watched