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Luke awoke in a bed, a prefabricated duraplast ceiling above his head. He looked around.

This was a good-sized cabin, dimly lit, not a hostel chamber but something like it. The furnishings were generic and innocuous like those of a hostel, but there were no viewports showing local scenery, no wall-mounted holos showing exotic locales.

To his left, on another bed, his back to Luke, was Ben. He was still, breathing slowly.

Luke looked right. There, in a comfortable padded chair, sat Jaina.

Luke blew out a sigh of relief. “Where are we? And what’s happened?”

“These are Very Important Person quarters on the Alliance Navy supply ship Verity, which has been our tender since the StealthX wing was stationed here.” Jaina’s disinterested wave took in their surroundings. “You want the bad news or the good news?”

“Bad. That way I have something to look forward to afterward.”

She grinned, then became serious. “Abeloth got away. Zekk and I had to draw off fire from the NovaGun so it wouldn’t finish you. By the time we were sure it wouldn’t fire on disabled craft on ballistic courses, Ship had entered hyperspace.”

Luke gave her a chiding look. “You shouldn’t have worried about me. You should have gone after her.”

“I know this Jedi, he pretends to be all wise and mysterious but he’s really kind of a farm boy inside, he used to tell me, ‘Trust in the Force.’ Zekk and I trusted what the Force had to tell us—and we protected you. So live with it.”

Luke sighed. “I hate being hoisted on my own words. More bad news?”

“Well, some of the Sith frigates got away. But we really hammered them before they went.”

“And the good news.”

“We managed to get you dunked in bacta for the first time in forever. And you’ve finally had some good sleep. Really, at your age, you should start taking better care of yourself.”

He glared, not meaning it.

She continued, “Valin and Jysella are back to normal, the Theran Listeners are back to normal, everyone has checked out droch-free. Raynar’s fine. Injuries but no fatalities on our side in the Sith engagement.”

Luke lay back and thought about it.

Abeloth had escaped again. All his preparations, all his planning, an operation that could have ended for all time the danger she posed—all that had been for nothing.

No, he corrected himself, it wasn’t for nothing. Abeloth had been hurt again, weakened. Perhaps worse than before; he didn’t know what the one–two punch of Raynar’s shadow bomb and his own lasers had inflicted on her or Ship.

And the loss of Callista. Clearly that had pained her more than the death of any previous avatar. More than losing a remote body, she’d lost something that had been part of herself.

And Callista—finally, truly, Luke knew that she was free. Free of the uncertainties that she had endured in the last part of her mortal life. Free of the loneliness and misery she had endured for thirty years after her death. Free to be one with the Force.

He smiled up at Jaina. “I’m still a little tired. Maybe I’ll get some more sleep.”

“Good answer.”

KLATOOINE

The Millennium Falcon broke orbit, exited the planet’s gravity well, and entered hyperspace, bound for Coruscant. Han was at the controls; Leia, though in the copilot’s seat, performed no ship’s tasks. She had Allana in her lap.

Behind them, R2-D2 tweetled.

C-3PO, in the seat behind Leia, sounded distressed with his reply. “That’s not at all funny, Artoo.”

Allana looked over the back of Leia’s seat to see the protocol droid. “What did he say?”

“He said I had an explosive temper. I find his word choice thoughtless.”

R2-D2 tweetled again.

“No, I do not blow up at the slightest provocation.”

Tweetle.

“I am not going to pieces over this. Enough.” C-3PO stood. “The Manumission Mandate Militia may be correct. I think I have been far too accommodating for far too long. I am now going to assert my independence and individuality.”

Han glanced over his shoulder at the droid. “And how, exactly, do you plan to do that, Goldilocks?