Dark Journey Read Free

wrenched the frigate’s nose up and hard to port. The alien ship rose in a sharp, gut-wrenching arc. Plasma scorched along the frigate’s underside, sheering off the irregular coral nodules with a shrill, ululating screech.
    Jaina jerked her left hand from its living glove and fisted away her tears through the cognition hood that covered her face. Meanwhile the fingers of her right hand slid and circled as she deftly brought her target into focus. She jammed her left hand back into the glove and squeezed it into a fist, releasing a burst of plasma at the attacking coralskipper—an instant before it launched a second plasma.
    Jaina’s missile struck the Yuuzhan Vong ship in that minuscule interval between shielding and attack. Shards of black coral exploded from its hull, and the snout heated to an ominous red as molten rock washed over it. Cracks fissured through the Yuuzhan Vong pilot’s viewport.
    Again Jaina fired, and again, timing the attacks with skill honed through two long years and too many missions. The coralskipper’s projected gravity well swallowedthe first missile; the second proved to be too much for the severely compromised hull. The ship broke apart, spilling its life out into the emptiness of space.
    “I know that feeling,” Jaina muttered.
    A small, strong hand settled on her shoulder. She felt Tenel Ka’s solid presence through the Force—there, but profoundly different. A moment passed before Jaina realized why: her friend’s emotions, usually as straightforward and unambiguous as a drawn blaster, had been carefully shielded.
    “We are doing the right thing for Jacen,” Tenel Ka said stoutly. “Because they have only one twin, they will harm neither. We suspected as much, but now we have proof. They are not trying to destroy this ship.”
    “Couldn’t prove it by me,” Zekk muttered as he jinked sharply to avoid another plasma blast.
    “Fact,” the warrior woman said bluntly. “Zekk, for two years you’ve flown cargo ships—a true contribution, but poor training for this escape.”
    “Yeah? Here’s another fact: I haven’t gotten us killed yet.”
    “And here are several more,” Tenel Ka retorted. “Jaina was in Rogue Squadron. She had access to New Republic intelligence on enemy ships. She has survived more dogfights than anyone here. If we are to survive, you must let her fly.”
    Zekk started to protest, but another barrage cut him off. He zigzagged wildly to avoid incoming fire and then put the ship into a tumbling evasive dive. The force threw Tenel Ka into the seat behind the pilot. She muttered something in her native language as she struggled into the restraining loops.
    Jaina braced her feet against the irregular coral floor and steeled herself for the punishing buildup of g-force. She expected her cognition hood to bulge out like the jowls of a Dagobian swamp lizard, but it remained comfortablyin place. She filed the data away for future use. In any New Republic ship, this maneuver would have been punishing; apparently, the internal gravity of a Yuuzhan Vong ship was far more complex and adaptable.
    Even so, for several moments speech was impossible. Jaina quickly ran through the list of survivors as she considered Tenel Ka’s words. Nine Jedi remained, just one more than half of their original strike force. Tahiri was only fifteen, and no pilot. She had been terribly wounded in body and spirit, and Tekli, the Chadra-Fan healer, was busy attending her. The reptilian Tesar, the sole survivor of the Barabel hatchmates, was working the shielding station in the stern. Lowbacca was needed everywhere, and since their escape he’d been dashing about patching the living ship’s wounds. When his efforts fell short, he’d alternately cajoled and threatened the ship in Wookiee terms so vivid that Em Teedee, the lost translator droid, would have been hard-pressed to come up with genteel euphemisms.
    That left Tenel Ka, Alema Rar, and Ganner Rhysode. Jaina quickly dismissed