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“I said, all Dekkon has is the facts. We have something more. We can decide how the jury interprets and internalizes those facts. Moreover, my dear, we have you.” He took a long drink. “We have who you were, and are, and wish to become. And believe me, I’d rather have those things on my side than something as simplistic as cold, hard facts.”

“But … why?” Tahiri’s heart felt like it had been squeezed by a prosthetic hand. Was the Bothan crazy?

“Because, my dear, beings don’t really want things that are cold and hard. They are sitting there, most of them, bless them, really, truly, trying to do the right thing. If they find you guilty, it must be beyond a reasonable doubt. And that, Miss Tahiri Veila, is what you and I are going to give them. Many, many reasons to doubt.”

Before Tahiri could splutter out more questions, the bailiff strode forward and bellowed in a voice that almost shook the walls, “All rise for Her Honor, Judge Mavari Zudan.”

Tahiri recognized the name, though she had never seen the Falleen woman who now entered the room from the back door. For a moment, Tahiri wondered if she’d simply traded one bad situation for another. While the farce that was the Court of Jedi Affairs had been abolished, and the clearly biased Judge Lorteli had been quietly removed from the bench, Zudan was the woman who had sentenced Luke Skywalker.

She wore dark judicial robes that made her look to Tahiri more like an executioner than a judge. The woman’s stern, pinched expression didn’t help the impression. She ascended to her chair, reached for an old-fashioned gavel, and banged it.

“This court is now in session.”

“You have visitors,” the guard said. “Step away from the door and sit on the chair.”

It had been a long first day of the trial, and Tahiri was exhausted, but not too tired to be surprised and curious at the words. The only being who had been able to visit her since her arraignment had been her lawyer. She obeyed, and sat patiently while two guards entered. One had a blaster pointed at her, the other painstakingly bound her wrists and ankles with stun cuffs. The idea was, of course, that she was adequately contained as long as the door was closed and locked. When it was open, she needed additional restraints. She suffered the indignity quietly, more focused on who could possibly be coming to see her than on the inconvenience and discomfort of the manacles.

The guards stepped back. Two dark-haired humans stepped into the room, one tall and rangy and male, and one petite and female, and smiled at her.

“It took us a while, but we were able to get in to see you,” Leia said.

Tahiri indicated the manacles. “Forgive me if I don’t get up,” she said. “But … it’s good to see you.”

“Be better to see you over a cup of caf,” Han said. He glared at the guards. “Didn’t your mothers ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

They didn’t budge, nor did they reply.

Han and Leia exchanged glances. Leia straightened to her full diminutive height and looked at them each in turn. “I understand you have your duty, and that is to monitor any information that comes to the prisoner through any method other than her lawyer. The only reason we’re here is because we have some deeply personal news to deliver. I think you’d both feel very uncomfortable having to overhear it. Would it be possible to have a little privacy?”

Both of them were male and looked uncomfortable already at the thought of hearing “deeply personal news.”

“Your reputation preceeds you, ma’am,” one of them said deferentially. And glancing at Han, he added in a slightly harder voice, “As does yours, Captain Solo. But orders are orders.”

“You think we’re going to try to bust her out of here or something?” Han said. “Kid, she’s a Jedi, and a damn good one. These little toys you’ve got on her wouldn’t do much if she wasn’t willing to be here of her own accord. Right?” He shot Tahiri a look for confirmation. Despite the situation Tahiri fought back nervous laughter. She suspected that whatever the Solos had to say, Han was doing more harm than good.

“They’re pretty