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Jedi in the past, and had sent a specific request to Luke Skywalker for more Jedi warriors.
    â€œI hope you’ll be able to help us in this next mission,” the admiral said.
    â€œThat’s why we’re here, sir.”
    â€œFine! Fine.” Kre’fey turned to the others. “Please be seated. We’ll begin as soon as Master Durron joins us.”
    Jacen seated himself in an armchair next to Tahiri Veila, the soft, smooth leather embracing his body. The little blond Jedi gave him a shy smile, her bare feet swinging clear of the carpet beneath her.
    â€œHow are you faring?” he asked.
    Her wide eyes turned thoughtful as she considered the question. “I’m better,” she said. “The meld is helping a lot.”
    The fierce, impulsive Tahiri had loved Jacen’s brother Anakin, and had been present at Myrkr when Anakin had met his hero’s death. Devastated by Anakin’s passing, her fiery character had come close to being snuffed out. She had withdrawn, and though she had continued to function as a Jedi, it was as if she were only going through the motions. Her impetuous personality had vanished into a subdued, ominously quiet young woman.
    It had been Saba Sebatyne, the reptilian leader of the all-Jedi Wild Knights Squadron, who had suggested that Tahiri should be sent to join Admiral Kre’fey at Kashyyyk. Kre’fey wanted as many Jedi as possible under his command, to form a Jedi Force-meld in combat, all the Jedi linked together through the Force and acting as one. Saba insisted that the Force-meld would help a wounded mind heal, by drawing a Jedi in pain toward light and healing.
    Apparently Saba had been right.
    â€œI’m glad to know you’re doing better,” Jacen said. His own experience with the meld, on Myrkr, had been more ambiguous: if it amplified Jedi abilities, it also enlarged any disharmony that existed among them.
    Tahiri gave Jacen a quick smile and patted his arm briefly. “I’m glad you’re here, Jacen.”
    â€œThank you. I wanted to be here. It seemed to be where I was needed.”
    He wanted to experience the meld again. He thought it could teach him a great deal.
    The doors slid open, Kyp Durron entered, and at once the mood of the room seemed to shift. Some people, Jacen thought, carried a kind of aura with them. If you met Cilghal, you knew at once you were in the presence of a compassionate healer, and Luke Skywalker radiated authority and wisdom.
    When you looked at Kyp Durron, you knew you were seeing an enormously powerful weapon. If only Jacen didn’t know how erratic that weapon had been.
    The dark-haired, older Jedi wore a New Republic–style uniform without any insignia, to show that he led an all-volunteer squadron that fought alongside the military forces but was not formally a part of them.
    Kyp and his unit, the Dozen, had always gone their own way. They flew with Kre’fey not because they were under orders, but because they chose to.
    Kyp and the admiral exchanged salutes. “Sorry I’m late, Admiral,” Kyp said. He showed the datapad he carried in one hand. “I was getting the latest intelligence reports. And, uh—“ He hesitated. “—some of the data were kind of interesting.”
    â€œVery good, Master Durron.” Kre’fey turned to the others. “Master Durron has submitted a plan for action against the enemy. As it’s fully in line with our operational goals as established by Admirals Sovv and Ackbar, I’ve given it my tentative approval. I thought I would place it before my senior commanders, and you squadron commanders, to see if you might have anything to add.”
    Jacen looked at Tahiri, startled. She was a squadron commander? Her feet would barely reach the foot controls in a starfighter cockpit.
    And then, as what he’d heard struck home, he exchanged a quick glance with his sister. Kyp Durron’s plans, in the past,