Dark Journey by Elaine Cunningham Page A

storms brewing across Hapes than Trisdin knew or could begin to imagine. Though not technically in power, Ta’a Chume had her resources, and forces loyal to her. One of these factions, a large and powerful group started by her mother before her, was anti-Jedi at heart and becoming more virulently so by theday. Matters were coming to the point that she had to reward them or risk losing their support. She could not risk such a loss—they were too powerful for her to allow them to take their strength elsewhere. This faction must either be placated or destroyed.
    And although murderous attempts on the royal family were certainly nothing new, Ta’a Chume was growing burdened by the level of paranoia required to keep herself and her household alive.
    Teneniel Djo was doing nothing to help. This troublesome Force had carried shockwaves from the Fondor debacle, causing Teneniel to lose her long-awaited, unborn second child. This was not yet known outside the palace; Ta’a Chume had kept it quiet under the guise of giving her daughter-in-law time to heal and grieve before making the announcement.
    In truth, Ta’a Chume viewed such grief as a self-indulgent weakness, a luxury that Hapes could not afford. She had endured Teneniel Djo this long simply because the alternative—a coup by one of her nieces—was even less desirable. Alyssia was a venal little wretch, but she was also a practical woman. Her first act as queen mother would be to destroy Ta’a Chume and her descendants. Of this, Ta’a Chume was certain, for that was exactly the course she herself would take.
    But Trisdin’s suggestion offered new possibilities. With a curt nod, Ta’a Chume sealed the fate of her son, his wife, and all of Hapes.
    Now all that remained was to find a promising young woman of whom Isolder might approve, and the lamentable Teneniel Djo would go.

NINE
    Jaina came awake suddenly, though no sound disturbed her trancelike state. She sat up, senses alert for whatever had roused her.
    But the ship was quiet, eerily so. For someone accustomed to the hum and roar of engines, the silence of the Yuuzhan Vong frigate was disconcerting. Jaina wasn’t sure exactly why she’d expected anything different; after all, what sound did gravity make when it bent? Would a black hole make a giant slurping noise whenever a dovin basal sucked up a proton torpedo?
    She rubbed the nape of her neck with one hand and then stretched, drawing in a long breath. And realized why she’d awoken.
    A faint, sharp odor filled the air, a scent she couldn’t equate with any other she knew. Jaina pushed herself off the coral bench and hurried to the cockpit.
    Starlines spun into view as the ship came out of its hyperspace flight. The odd scent must have been some sort of sensor.
    The stars focused into sharp points, but faint lines remained—starlight refracted from some metallic, as-yet-unseen object.
    In the pilot’s seat, Zekk sat bolt upright, leaning toward the viewport. “Incoming!” he snapped.
    Jaina spun toward the pilot’s seat and leaned down to peer over Zekk’s shoulder. A motley collection of ships—some of them Hapan vessels, some more suited to pirates and smugglers—sped purposefully toward them.
    Ganner slipped into the gunner’s chair, his handsome face grim at the prospect of firing upon allies.
    Zekk touched his hooded head to Jaina’s. “You want to take this?”
    “I’m going back to the escape pod. Unless Tenel Ka gets to Hapes, this could be the first party of many. Ganner, no matter what, you’ve got to protect her. That comes first.”
    “I know my job,” he said.
    Jaina gave his shoulder a brief squeeze to show that she understood his dilemma, then she hurried to the stern of the frigate. Tenel Ka was lowering herself into the black, seed-shaped escape pod, listening intently to Tahiri’s swift-flowing advice. Tesar, Alema, and Tekli stood by.
    The blond girl glanced up at Jaina’s approach. She straightened and backed