Read Online Inferno by Troy Denning - Free Book Online

as a soap bubble in an open air lock. As soon as the two men realized someone else was hoping for a place in the family holo, they had begun to knock heads like two bull rontos. Jaina had finally grown so sick of it that, after Mara’s death, she had told them both to leave her alone.
    The entrance to the academy hangar suddenly passed by beneath the Dactyl, then Jaina’s observation blister filled with sky as Jag rolled the ship on its side and began to swing around for another pass. The Dactyl was a lot less maneuverable than the YT-2400 they had been using as a mother ship until a few days ago, but Jag insisted on changing vessels frequently, believing it would make it more difficult for Alema to spot them coming. At least this one had a private berth for everyone and room for StealthXs.
    Once Jag had brought the vessel around, he swung away from the academy proper and began to fly low and slow along the adjacent mountainside. Jaina started to suggest that the rift valley would be a more likely hiding place—then remembered how long Jag had been hunting Alema and remained quiet. Half crippled as the Twi’lek was, she was unlikely to hide her vessel anyplace that involved scaling two thousand meters of valley wall.
    “This may be our last pass,” Jag said over the comm. “Academy flight control is starting to ask questions.”
    “The flyover is making them nervous,” Zekk guessed. “Tell them we’re doing a security sweep.”
    “I did,” Jag said. “And flight control command asked what was wrong with their security.”
    Jaina chuckled. “Tell her we’re bird-watching.”
    Jag was silent a moment, then reported, “Command says good luck. We’ll see some magnificent gokobs in the treetops.”
    Jaina and Zekk laughed simultaneously.
    “What’s so funny?” Jag asked.
    “You’ll see,” Jaina said. Gokobs were hairless rodents that spent most of their time rummaging for food around the academy kitchens—friendly, but reviled for their habit of spraying a foul mist when startled. “But if you do come across anything big and bright in the treetops, don’t go down to take a look.”
    “Not a gokob?” Jag asked.
    “Not a gokob,” Zekk confirmed. “There are some pretty big tree frogs on Ossus. They’ve been known to bring down Tee-sixty-five trainers.”
    “Their tongues are that strong?” Jag gasped.
    “That sticky,” Jaina corrected. “If you get a big bunch of ’em dangling from your hull, you lose a lot of lift.”
    The Dactyl continued along the mountainside for another half a kilometer before Jaina noticed a faint depression in the forest canopy, about a kilometer upslope. There was no dark side energy in the Force to suggest they had found Alema’s strange ship, but the indentation was about the correct size and shape.
    “Mark,” she said.
    “Marked,” Jag said, acknowledging that he had recorded their exact location in the navigation system. “Did you sense something?”
    “Sort of.” Jaina explained what she had seen, then said, “It’s probably nothing—”
    “But we should check it out,” Zekk said, finishing her thought, “if we don’t find something else first.”
    Jag fell silent, and a distinct chill radiated through the Force from the direction of the flight deck. Although the Joiner bond between Jaina and Zekk was long dissolved, like any good pair of mission partners they seemed to read each other’s thoughts on occasion—and Jag’s aversion to Killiks was still so strong that he was creeped out by any hint of thought-sharing. If she needed to discourage his advances, Jaina decided, all she’d have to do was rub forearms with Zekk.
    Of course, then Zekk might get the wrong idea…
    They completed the sweep without finding any other hints of Alema or her strange ship, then returned to the depression Jaina had noticed. The trees this low on the mountainside were primarily majestic kingwoods, with tall straight trunks and spreading crowns of giant heart-shaped