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Then it hit him, a blow from behind, a shock felt by every part of his body. His knees gave way. He fell forward, his vision graying.

But before he lost consciousness completely, he saw, beyond the railing of the patio, a hovering airspeeder—his mother's speeder, with Not-Mirax standing in the driver's seat, her military-grade blaster pistol in her hands aimed at him. Tears streamed from her eyes as if to mimic the artificial waterfall that framed her from thirty meters beyond.

SENATE BUILDING, CORUSCANT

Luke Skywalker found it amazing that there was a chamber this large in the Senate Building he had never seen. It was six stories in height, and broad and deep enough to hold two thousand spectators. The permanent bench seating was filled almost to capacity, late arrivals moving along the aisles and peering anxiously to find open spots. At the head of the chamber stood an enormous dais with two cloth-draped tables, swivel seats set up behind them, and a lectern between them. On the carpeted floor before the dais were round tables with chairs placed to face the front of the room. It was much like an oversized courtroom set up for a panel of judges, but more informal in its arrangement, and far less somber in its decorative style: the carpets and padding on the bench seats and backs were of soothing blues and purples; the walls were off-white with Galactic Alliance symbols painted large upon them; and the furniture up front was an unthreatening tan-gold.

And Luke had never seen the place before. Had it always been here? Were there many more such chambers in this gargantuan building?

The dais tables were fully occupied, and the male Bothan sitting in the most central chair, his red and tan fur rippling with the consequence of the moment, nodded to an aide who had just whispered to him. The Bothan stood and took the lectern beside his seat. “Only forty-five minutes late,” he said, his amplified voice booming across the chamber. “Not bad for a Galactic Alliance event, yes?”

His remark drew a faint laugh from the crowd. Encouraged, he continued, “I am Senator Tiurrg Drey'lye, chair of the Unification Preparations Committee, and the organizer of this event. Over the next several days, in both private and public sessions, we will be examining the relationship between the Galactic Alliance, the states of the Confederation, the Galactic Empire, and individual planet-states with the aim of restoring our great planetary union to levels of strength and security equaling, even surpassing, those it enjoyed before the recent war.”

Ben, Luke's sixteen-year-old son, sat to Luke's left. Redheaded, athletic, he was dressed in the black tunic and pants that were his trademark whenever Jedi dress was not absolutely called for. Now he frowned, curious. “What about the Hapans? They were invited.”

Luke gestured for Ben to lower his voice, though the remark had not been loud enough to carry beyond the Jedi table. “They were invited, but they were invited incorrectly, so they didn't come.”

“Huh?”

The Bothan's renewed speech checked Luke's reply for a moment. “This morning, we'll be hearing opening remarks from some of the session organizers and speakers offering a sense of what we hope to accomplish …”

Luke tuned him out and turned toward Ben. “The Hapans were issued an invitation, but its language suggested very faintly that their presence was less critical than that of the Remnant and the Confederation. They couldn't agree to attend without appearing to accept a lower status than the others. So, knowing that there will be later Unification Summits where they can be the stars, they claimed a prior commitment.”

Ben frowned. “Why was the invitation worded that way? Was it an accident?”

Leia Organa Solo, Luke's sister, sitting to Luke's right, looked toward father and son. A slightly graying dark-haired, diminutive woman dressed in brown Jedi robes, she currently blended in with her company, but as a former Chief of State of the New Republic, she could have dressed to be the equal of the most extravagant