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“Thank you.” For once, Leia did not offer up her conviction that Jacen was alive somewhere. “Addath, I would not impose on your time, but our mission is an important one. I don’t have access to all the Senatorial records, so I have to rely on your help. We need an appointment with Presider Sakins as soon as we can arrange or connive one.”

Addath’s expression did not change, precisely, but Han saw something happen to it, all real cheerfulness disappearing, leaving only a shell behind. Addath took Leia by the arm and gently guided her around toward the ceremonial, flag-draped landspeeder waiting outside the visitors’ bay. As Han and the droids turned to follow, the military and civilian escort dropped into step behind them. “That will be difficult,” Addath said, her voice dripping with poisoned sweetness. “A week after Coruscant fell, Sakins looted the capital treasury, taking gems and other valuables dating back thousands of years—a tremendous fortune, and one easily transportable—and departed Vannix on the rickety but very comfortable military corvette that served as his personal transportation. He took his Presider-Aide, his mistresses, his children, and a number of his favorite financial supporters with him. I doubt he’ll be back.”

“Oh, dear,” Leia said. “Who is in charge of planetary government?” She boarded the oversized landspeeder ahead of Addath; Han followed the Senator aboard and settled in beside her, separated from his wife by the Senator’s substantial girth.

“Well, that’s not exactly clear,” Addath said. She turned her attention to the landspeeder pilot. “Presider’s residence, please.” Then she returned her attention to Leia. “I’m more or less in charge of civilian matters. A crusty and not-too-bright naval officer named Apelben Werl heads up the military. We’re now campaigning for a runoff election that will decide which of the two of us will be the Presider. You’ve arrived at a good time; the election is in a matter of a few days. The famous Solos might be able to swing the election with a few well-managed public appearances, a few kind words.”

“Count on it,” Leia said.

Two hours later—or forty, if you asked Han how long he thought it had been since they’d set down—they were left alone in quarters in the Presider’s residence. The rooms were lavishly decorated in the Vannix style, thick with ponderous cushioned couches and chairs in well-coordinated browns and golds, every surface covered—ankle-brushing carpeting below, draped curtains on the walls, tassels covering every centimeter of the ceiling and making it an ever-moving, almost organic overhead view.

But no viewports. Han settled down onto a couch beside Leia, felt a little alarm as he continued to sink for nearly half a meter. “Is this going to support me or swallow me?”

Leia smiled. “Grope around under the cushions and see if you encounter any digestive juices.”

“That’s the most revolting thing you’ve said all day. And don’t these people believe in fresh air? Maybe a balcony?”

“Sure they do. They believe in other things, too. They’re known for the adeptness of their politicians and the skills of their snipers, characteristics that help keep one another in check.”

“Good point. So let me ask you something important.”

“Sure. But first—” Leia turned to the droids. “Artoo, how about some music? Something Coruscanti.”

R2-D2 whistled obligingly. Then from his interior wafted music, an ancient Coruscant chamber composition played mostly on strings.

Han, puzzled, opened his mouth to ask when she’d put a music module in the astromech, but Leia placed a hand over his mouth, placed a finger to her own lips.

Then Han heard his own voice coming from the droid, clear and as realistic as if Han were standing there. “So when we decide to settle down again, where would you like it to be?” Leia’s voice was next: “I’m not sure. What if I’m needed to help rebuild Coruscant?”

The real Leia, her voice a faint whisper, said, “Now we can talk.”

Han matched his volume to hers. “That’s the conversation we had coming back from dropping