Part 10 (1/2)
He manipulated the controls in his pocket and the tiny cam droid scurried down to the thick carpet. He could hear them talking: ”Oh yum ... Vagnerian canapes. Mom loves these. Have you ever had one?” Jaina. Tyrr frowned. Perhaps the audio receivers were maladjusted-she sounded off, somehow.
”No.” The sound of a fork clinking on plate, and then, ”Mmm ... okay. That's pretty amazing.”
Yes, the audio was definitely off. Jag's voice sounded slightly deeper than normal, and more nasal. Oh, well, at least their words were being recorded. Tyrr again touched the controls and the little droid climbed up the table leg as the two continued to chat about the merits of various desserts and whether or not caf or Ca.s.sandran brandy was the proper beverage to consume with them. Tyrr sighed. It was an utterly ba.n.a.l conversation. He was about to write the evening off as a waste-except for the lovely meal-when the cam finally made it to the top of the table and raced to hide itself amid the fronds of the bouquet that served as a centerpiece.
The woman was not Jaina.
Oh, at first it looked like her, but the mouth was too wide and the nose too pinched. And the voice-there was nothing wrong with the audio receiver. It was the voice itself that was wrong.
Quickly Tyrr directed the droid to maneuver to the opposite side. Was Jag- He zoomed in on the scar, and realized it was cleverly applied makeup. Doubles. They had gotten doubles. It was a fine old tradition, and he'd fallen for it.
It was all Tyrr could do not to pound his fist on the table in frustration.
It's all just smoke and mirrors, darling;
A pretty lie, and nothing more.
Smoke and mirrors, indeed. It was time to take off the gloves. His ratings needed a boost. He needed a scoop, a story that would eclipse anything else.
And he was determined to get it.
THE SMALL, NONDESCRIPT SPEEDER WAS WAITING OUTSIDE THE REAR door. Tahiri Veila opened the doors and Jaina and Jag jumped inside, barely making it before Tahiri lifted off.
”How'd it go?”
”Smooth as s.h.i.+mmersilk,” Jaina said.
”Catch any in the net or was it just a good general slip?”
”Javis Tyrr followed us,” Jag said. ”At least we know he's wasted an evening.”
Tahiri smirked a little. ”Good. He's tried to interview me, you know.”
”I'm not surprised,” Jaina said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. ”You'd boost his ratings through the roof.”
Jag clicked on his comlink. ”Hoth, this is Gaunt. Is the bantha in position?”
”In the cave as promised,” Winter Celchu replied. ”Ready to travel.”
”Great. Mynock has been effectively neutralized for the evening. Operation Caranak will proceed as planned.”
”Good luck. Hoth out.”
Jaina listened, her lips curving in a smile. Jag had come up with the name mynock to describe their parasitic journalist. It was just perfect. She sighed and leaned against him. One more ”bantha”-speeder-to pick up, and the mission would be accomplished. She and Jag would spend the night under aliases in a small, out-of-the-way inn halfway around the planet.
”By the way,” asked Tahiri, ”why Operation Caranak?”
”A caranak,” Jag said, slipping an arm around Jaina as she rested her head against his shoulder in the backseat, ”is an aquatic fowl native to Endor. It is notoriously difficult to domesticate.”
Tahiri was silent, then she said slowly, ” ... a wild goose?”
”Just so.”
Another pause and then, ”And they say you don't have a sense of humor, Jag.”
”They,” said Jag, his voice completely serious, ”do not have a sufficiently good espionage network.”
THE SOLOS' PRIVATE APARTMENTS, CORUSCANT ”I'm worried about Allana,” Leia said. She was curled up next to her husband, her pet.i.te frame nestled against his larger one as they spooned together in their bedchamber. They had opted to leave the large, military-grade-thickness transparisteel viewport open. At all hours of the day or night, they could watch the colorful, constantly changing images of Coruscant traffic. Some might have found the view stressful. The Solos, with their love of vessels, found it rea.s.suring. ”What about her?” Han mumbled. He had almost fallen asleep, but he could feel the tension, the wakefulness in his wife's body. ”She dealt okay with the spiders on Kessel. Just like a Solo granddaughter should.”
”I'm not talking about repercussions from Kessel,” Leia said. Her voice was soft, quiet, and Han could barely hear her. He frowned and propped himself up on his elbow, gently turning her to face him.
”This some kind of Force thing?”
”No, not at all. In fact the opposite.” Leia sighed. ”Han, she needs something ... ordinary. And we're most definitely not.”
”Well, you got that right, but neither is she. She was born the Chume'da, the heir to the Hapan throne. She's the daughter of Tenel Ka and Jacen Solo, two very powerful Jedi. She's about as far from ordinary as you can get.”
Leia sighed and snuggled against him, idly stroking his chest. ”Even so, when she was Chume'da, she had her routines. Her place. Her droids.”
”She has droids here. And that feels nice, so keep on-Ow!” Han glowered at her as, annoyed, Leia tugged on his chest hair with the intent to irritate.
”She does. But with all that's going on right now, I can't help but think back to my own childhood. What made me feel happy, safe, and loved.”
”Oh, yeah, you had a very ordinary life. Forgot about that, Princess and Senator.”
Although he was being sarcastic, Han knew that he was also correct, and Leia, who was usually fair about these things, did not reprimand him by tugging again on his chest hair.
”No, I absolutely did not have an ordinary life. But I never felt unsettled. And I'm afraid that's what's happening with Allana.”
The faint light from the never-dark Coruscant skies fell upon her features, still beautiful to him-and others-after over forty years. Her eyes, that rich, liquid brown that always made him kinda quivery, glinted slightly in the multicolored glow as she peered up at him, and Han Solo fell in love all over again, as he did pretty much at least once a week. He'd been lucky to have found such an amazing woman. Life would never, ever be dull with her.
”I had a very happy, stable childhood,” Leia continued. ”Two parents who were very much in love with each other. I was raised on politics, but it never harmed the family. Resisting the Empire never seemed to conflict with storytime, or trips together as a family, or ...”
Her brown eyes bored into his. Han knew that the reason for the conversation was about to be made manifest, and he braced himself.
”Or wonderful, sunlit afternoons spent riding my thranta.”
Han waited. But apparently that was it.
”I don't get it. I must be too sleepy to be having this conversation,” Han said.
”The Coruscant Livestock Exchange and Exhibition just started. We have the credits and the property to buy Allana something special. Something she can spend wonderful, sunlit afternoons riding.”
Han's own eyes widened. ”You're not serious.”
”Oh, very, I'm afraid.”