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“He is right, Olianne.” Kaminne stared at her sister until Olianne dropped her gaze, and Luke could finally see some of the quiet strength of character that Kaminne had to possess to be chief of this clan.

Kaminne turned forward again. “That was the start of the hard years. Relearning years. There were man-tribes out there that were actually larger than the Raining Leaves, and stronger. But there was also one man-tribe that did not attack, that was willing to trade, and eventually more than trade. The Broken Columns.” Kaminne’s expression softened. “Over the years, we have come to a new custom. Each year the two clans convene north of Redgill Lake. We camp in each other’s company. We stay a month. Marriages are made, marriages that last a year. The next year, when the two clans convene, we give the boy-children over a certain age to their fathers and introduce the girls to them, so that they might know their kin.”

“And this is where you are going now.” Luke thought it over. “No wonder you didn’t want outsiders along.”

“It is more than that. This year, we convene to negotiate another kind of marriage—a marriage of clans. Raining Leaves and Broken Columns becoming one. If we can come to terms, I will marry Tasander Dest, their chief, and it will be a marriage of more than just a year.”

“Tasander Dest.” Luke frowned. “Surely that’s not a Dathomiri name.”

“Hapan. The Hapans have had a compound on Dathomir for many years. Their old Queen Mother was Dathomiri, and their current one is half Dathomiri. Tasander was brought here as a boy by his father and chose to stay when his father left.”

Leia, sitting on Luke’s far side, leaned in. “Do you have any children? By Dest or another Broken Column?”

Kaminne shook her head. “For years I could not. It is a problem that runs in my family, except in my mother. Olianne, too, is childless. But when we began talks of this union with the Broken Columns, I went to the doctor at the spaceport. She said it was a reversible condition and gave me medicines.”

“I was going to recommend that, but you’re ahead of me.”

Kaminne shook her head. “We are not stupid. Ours is a hard life, but it is one we choose, not one we are just too foolish to avoid. When our spells are insufficient, we find other ways. Some of our warriors have blasters now and know how to use them. We have comlinks and beacons. Changes, all changes brought on since you first came here.”

Leia smiled at her. “I know about changes. Some are bad, some are good, and when you look back on your life, you will probably approve of the ones you yourself brought on.” She leaned back in her seat.

Luke decided to change the subject. “My son and I are looking for a girl, not Dathomiri, who crashed her ship somewhere north of the spaceport.” He felt Ben, back in the cargo bed tinkering with Han’s tool kit and his lightsaber, perk up.

Kaminne’s face became blank, a sabacc player’s neutral expression. “Yes. Vestara is her name. She is with the clan.”

“We need to take her back.” Luke glanced skyward, suggesting a return to space.

“Oh. How many of us are you willing to kill to do this?”

“Kill? We have no intention of killing anyone.”

“You have no authority here. You may not just take her. She will not want to go with you. She is with the clan now—Olianne mentors her and may choose to adopt her.”

“Oh.” There was a sinking feeling in Luke’s gut. All of a sudden they knew where their quarry was … and she was, in a sense, farther away than ever. “Well, perhaps she’ll be willing to talk to us.”

“Perhaps.”

QUARTERS OF CHIEF OF STATE NATASI DAALA,

SENATE BUILDING, CORUSCANT

A chime woke Daala—three mellow, musical sounds—and her eyes snapped open. The alarm always awoke her the first time it sounded; as with most military lifers, she slept very lightly.

But this wasn’t her preset morning alarm. The musical notes indicated a live communication from Wynn Dorvan, and that meant something urgent was up. She cleared her throat to make sure she did not sound sleepy or raspy. “Speak.”

“You have a priority communication