Jaina climbed out of her X-wing wearily, feeling far older than her eighteen years. She wanted to get in bed, turn the lights out, and stay there.
She wanted Jacen, and Anakin, and her mother and father. She wanted to hear C-3PO going on inanely, and she wanted to see Aunt Mara, to find out what was wrong with her.
What she got instead was Kyp Durron, climbing out of his starfighter, a grin smearing across his face as he walked toward her.
In a way, he would do.
She watched him come, with that stupid smile, until he was close enough. Then she slapped him, hard.
His smile faded, but otherwise he didn’t react.
“You knew,” she said. “You knew, and you lied, and you made me a part of it.”
The other pilots, in the middle of postbattle jubilation, were starting to stare.
“What are you talking about?” Lensi asked. Jaina had seen the Duros coming from the corner of her vision.
“Tell him, Kyp. Tell him what his friends died for. Tell them that thing we just paid so dearly to blow up wasn’t a superweapon. That it wasn’t a weapon at all.”
Kyp straightened and folded his arms. “Everything the Vong possess is a weapon,” he said.
“B-but the footage we saw in briefing,” Lensi stammered. “I saw what it did. It pulled fire out of Sernpidal’s sun.”
“No,” Jaina said. “That’s what it looked like, but that’s not what happened. The Yuuzhan Vong set up a relay system of hundreds of dovin basals, hung in a long corridor all the way to the sun. It was just a big, unwieldy linear accelerator, a way to get hydrogen and helium to use in their shipbuilding, or something. But a giant gravitic weapon? No. Kyp made that up, to get us here.”
While talking to Lensi, she hadn’t taken her gaze off Kyp’s face. Nor did she now.
“What was it, Kyp? What did we just blow up? Or do you even know?”
“I know,” Kyp said. “It was a worldship, a new one. If it’s any comfort, it wasn’t finished, and there probably weren’t many Vong aboard.”
“Then why did you want it blown up? Why did you lie?” Lensi asked.
Kyp’s face hardened. “The Yuuzhan Vong have destroyed, conquered, and raped our planets. They enslave civilian populations, and they sacrifice our citizens by the thousands. But until today, the only Vong we’ve hurt are those who come against us—the warriors. I wanted to hit them where they live, to let them know their civilians aren’t sacrosanct if ours aren’t.”
“Then why an empty worldship?” Jaina asked. “Why not just pick a full one and blow it up, Kyp? You can’t tell me you would be squeamish about that.”
“You’re wrong about that, Jaina, and I think you know it,” Kyp said. “But sure, from what I’ve managed to find out we could have probably blasted one of their older ships. But that wouldn’t have really hurt them. This does. Their worldships are dying, and a lot of them aren’t in good enough shape to make it anywhere they can let people off. This one would have been hyperdrive capable, and it could have housed the populations of many of their smaller worldships. Now they have to choose between letting their children die in space or expending military resources to move them to conquered planets. Either way, it only helps us fight them—and it sends a message.”
“Yeah, right,” Jaina snapped. “It sends the message that we’re not any better than they are.”
“We were here first. It’s our galaxy. If they had come peacefully, we would have given them the space they needed.” He lifted his chin and raised his voice to address everyone in the room. “You should all be proud of what you did today. You fought against terrible odds and you won. You struck a blow against the Vong, and a good one. This was for Sernpidal, for Ithor, for Duro, for Dubrillion, for Garqi—for every planet the Vong have despoiled.”
To Jaina’s utter astonishment, he got cheers. Not from everyone—she saw Gavin and Wedge across the room, their faces tight and angry. But nearly everyone.
“Ask them, Jaina. You don’t really have a homeworld. You were raised all over the galaxy. Most of these people know what it’s like to have had a home, and too many of them know what it’s like to lose one, thanks to the Yuuzhan Vong. You think they mind evening the score a little?”
“I think you owed us the truth. Maybe we would have decided to help you if you had been straight with us.”
“And maybe you wouldn’t have. As long as you thought it was a superweapon, you were ready to go. But we’ve set them back here more than the destruction of any weapon. By the time they grow another one—”
“—their children start dying. Right. I get that. Bravo, Kyp. Well done. Except you used me. You made me tell your lie, and now the blood of every Yuuzhan Vong child who suffocates in space is on my hands, too.”
“There’s more to this universe than Jaina Solo, believe it or not,” Kyp said, very quietly. “I’m sorry you feel used, and I wish I hadn’t had to lie to you. But I did have to. You wouldn’t have helped me otherwise.”
“And I’ll never help you again,” Jaina said. “You can count on it. If you were dying of thirst on Tatooine, I wouldn’t even spit on you.” And with that she left, found the stateroom she had been assigned, turned out the lights, and wept.
The next day, with Gavin Darklighter’s permission, she left to find the Errant Venture.