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He shook his head. “Nah.”

She shook her head. “You’re fooling yourself.”

Seha sighed. “Anyway, one of these chips will have information on Senate Building offices not currently assigned to a delegation. If you can forge an assignment showing that another one has been approved for Senator Treen’s use—”

“Then we’ll have a semi-comfortable place to stay.” Kyp grinned at Octa. “I get the couch.”

“You get the floor. Or maybe the top of the desk.”

Seha turned back toward the cockpit. “At least you’ll already have your lightsabers past all the new security measures, and a constant flow of information and goods from the Solos. This should be an easy assignment. Right?”

“Nah.”

“You’re fooling yourself.”

Half an hour later, Seha signaled Bandy via a single comlink beep.

Bandy, wiping his hands on an oily rag, walked stiff-legged up to stand before the cockpit viewscreens. Seha activated an exterior mike and speakers. “Yes?”

“All done.”

“You’re sure this time?”

He grinned. “You’re going to get some smoke on activation. There’s coolant pooled behind the exhaust vent, but it’s ready to go. Guaranteed.”

“Want a ride back to your shop?”

“Please. I’ll get my tools.”

Seha went aft and glanced at Kyp and Octa, who waited, with implacable Jedi Master calm, in their seats. “One minute.” She activated the boarding ramp and trotted down.

At its bottom, she waved to get the attention of the door guards. “Can you switch off the fire system during our takeoff? We’re going to have smoke here for just a minute, then we’ll be gone. I’m sick of foam.”

The Devaronian nodded. “Fine.”

“It cakes in your hair. Takes several sanisteams to get out.”

“I wouldn’t know.” He gestured at the top of his own head, gleaming, bald, and horned.

Bandy, tools in hand, trotted up into the passenger cabin. Seha followed and reentered the cockpit.

She powered the engines up, but did not raise the boarding ramp just yet.

As soon as the main thrusters showed all green for readiness, there was a mechanical coughing noise from the stern. Smoke billowed out the thruster.

Seha felt just a touch in the Force, sign that the two Masters had run down into the smoke and then used their powers to boost their speed to get clear of the cloud before it dissipated.

She smiled, raised the boarding ramp, waved at the Devaronian, and lifted. She backed a few meters, turned the shuttle in a smooth pivot, and glided for the blast doors opening before her.

A moment later she was out in the sunlight again, breathing a sigh of relief.

Bandy moved up and settled into the copilot’s seat. He pointed out the starboard viewport. “Hey, look.”

In the distance, just leaving another Level Two hangar, was the Millennium Falcon. Seha gave the aging transport a little salute. “I suspect we had an easier time of it today than they did.”

“Yeah, I guess stress comes with being old and famous.”

Seha shook her head and began punching in a course for a climb to orbit.

For the Jedi, this was two missions accomplished—delivery of Jedi Masters, delivery of support resources to them—and nothing, absolutely nothing, had gone wrong.

So she hoped.

WILDERNESS, NAM CHORIOS

AS BEN, BOYISH AND UNCONCERNED, PILOTED THE LANDSPEEDER, VESTARA used the best security available to encrypt the letter she was composing.

She had to. The letter was one she would never dare send, one she could never allow anyone to see. It would remain in the hidden reaches of her datapad’s memory, something she would allow only herself to experience. She might have to purge it from her own memory if it threatened to expose what she was feeling.

Father—

No, that was how she normally would begin such a communication in truth, in the real world.

Dear Dad:

She rejected that as well. Dad was not right. The term was so very, very …

So very Ben.

The surroundings changed from bleak gray plains littered with crystalline gravel to hilly terrain, then dipped into a series of canyons. Rising from their depths were the chimney-like spars of crystal, blue and green and white, that constituted the largest and most impressive