The Final Prophecy Read Online Free PDF

Othrem said, taking a sip of his Rylothan yurp and running his green-eyed gaze around the mostly bare metal walls of the place that called itself a tapcaf.
    “What were you expecting, a casino from the Galsol strip?” Jaina Solo asked. “Yesterday this was just a piece of space junk the Yuuzhan Vong hadn’t got around to pulverizing.”
    “And now they won’t, thanks to us!” Raf said, raising his glass. “To Twin Suns Squadron, and our illustrious leader, Jaina Solo.”
    Jaina nodded wearily as they raised their drinks. Raf had all of the enthusiasm that came from having flown only one mission, and that a successful one. Not only had the battle been won, but her squadron hadn’t lost a single pilot.
    In time, Raf would lose that youthful exuberance.
    She double-checked that thought and almost smiled when she remembered that Raf was actually a year her senior.
    Let’s not take our vast age and experience too seriously
, Jaina thought.
    She raised her own glass. “To the good fight,” she toasted, and this time she did smile as her wingmates cheered.
    Putting on a cheerful appearance was good for the team.
    “A brilliant fight,” Jag said. “We have the best flight commander in the galaxy.”
    Jaina actually felt a blush coming on—not from the words, but from the depths of Jag’s blue-eyed gaze.
    “No argument there,” Raf said. “But I’d say one more toast is in order.”
    “Just one?” Mynor Dac said. “I can’t imagine you shutting up for the rest of the night.”
    “No doubt,” Alema Rar drily seconded.
    Raf sent the Twi’lek a mock-glare, then raised his glass. “To General Wedge Antilles, and the plan that gave us back Fondor.”
    “I’ll drink to that,” Jaina said.
    But before the glass reached her lips, something fell onto the table. A Rogue Squadron patch. She looked up into the round-eyed gaze of a young Duros. A very unhappy-looking Duros.
    “Lensi?”
    “Colonel,” he acknowledged, his voice flat and clipped.
    “Join the celebration, Lensi,” Raf said. “Not that we normally mingle with disreputable Rogues, but—”
    “I have nothing to celebrate,” Lensi said, his gaze still focused on Jaina. “And I will no longer fly with Rogue Squadron. My people were betrayed today. Betrayed by General Antilles. Betrayed by Jaina Solo.”
    Jag came to his feet at that, followed closely by a growling, towering Lowbacca. Jag stared at Lensi with deadly calm. If Lensi was troubled by either Jag or the Wookiee, he didn’t show it.
    “Lowbacca, sit down,” Jaina said. “Jag—please. Let him talk.”
    The Wookiee reluctantly followed orders, but Jag stood squared off with the Duros for several long seconds.
    “Be careful what you say, Duros,” he finally said. “Where I come from, there are penalties for slander.”
    “What’s on your mind, Lensi?” Jaina asked.
    “Many of my people died in the attack on Duro.”
    “They didn’t have to,” Jaina said. “The attack on Duro was a feint, designed to draw reinforcements from here. The Duros commander of the mission broke with the plan. He jeopardized both missions.”
    “He was not told the attack was a feint,” Lensi said.
    “No one was!” Raf exploded. “We were all in the dark.”
    “That’s why it worked, Lensi,” Jaina said. “Yuuzhan Vong intelligence is good. Wedge had to make the buildup look like it was aimed at Duro, and he had to make the attack there look convincing.”
    “Duro was the more lightly occupied,” Lensi said. “We
could
have taken Duro. We were promised this.” His face tightened into an even flatter mask. “We were used.”
    “Such is war,” Jag said. “Fondor was considered the more strategic target. The liberation of Duro may come next, it may not.” He nodded his head around the crowded room. “Many of the pilots here have lost a homeworld to the Vong. You think you’re alone? You think every one of them wouldn’t prioritize the liberation of their homeworld over every other, if