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The door was opened, not unexpectedly, by C-3PO. “Goodness gracious, how pleasant to see you again, Head of State Fel!” the droid enthused. “If only Master Luke and Master Ben were here, the entire family would be gathered together. It’s been some time since that last occurred. I rather miss it.”

“Good to see you again, too, Threepio,” Jag said. R2-D2 toodled a happy-sounding welcome, as well. Jag started to reply when he was suddenly simultaneously charged by a madly purring young nexu and a beaming eight-year-old girl.

“Anji is happy to see you and so am I!” the little girl said. He mussed her black hair affectionately, then extended his hand to his future father-in-law.

“Glad you could join us tonight, kid,” Han said. “Family’s going to be going off in all kinds of directions tomorrow.”

Jag was surprised at how good it felt to be included in the Solos’ definition of family. “Indeed,” he said, “and about that …?” He let the question trail off and merely lifted his eyebrows in inquiry.

Han pressed a Corellian ale into Jag’s hand and went to pour a glass of red wine for Jaina. “After dinner,” he said. “In the meantime, I can’t take all of this with me, so drink up.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a safe house with such a well-stocked liquor cabinet,” Jag commented. He sipped the ale and nodded appreciatively.

Han shot him the familiar lopsided grin that had, forty years earlier, won the heart of a Princess. “There are some things you just don’t skimp on. For me, that means good alcohol, and good blasters.”

“Which go together so well,” said Jaina, rolling her eyes at her dad.

Leia came out of the kitchen and, with a smile and a quick kiss, accepted the glass of wine that Han had poured for her. “Dinner should be ready shortly. In the meantime,” she said, sobering, “there’s something very important you need to see.”

Jag was instantly alert and focused. “What?” he asked.

With great seriousness, Leia said, “Amelia has taught Anji four new commands.”

An hour later, after Anji had successfully stayed, savaged a stuffed eopie and then dropped it at a single word, and blocked Jag from getting up—all at a few hand signals from Allana—a pleasant visit ensued until it was the girl’s bedtime. She was clearly disappointed at having to leave, but obeyed cheerfully, giving Jag a hug and heading for her room with the devoted nexu at her heels.

Jag eyed the table, a little confused. It was set for five. “I thought Amelia would be eating with us,” he said.

“At this hour?” said Leia. “Oh, no. She’d be far too cranky in the morning. No”—she smiled a little—“someone else will be joining us.”

Three dark heads turned to the hallway expectantly, and Jag followed their gaze.

A young woman, slender and golden-haired, stepped into the living room and smiled a bit uncertainly. “Hello, Head of State Fel,” said Tahiri Veila.

Blinking at her, Jag wordlessly turned to the Solos for an explanation.

“Sorry to spring this on you, but we thought this was the best way for all involved,” Leia apologized. “She came to us for help.”

Tahiri remained standing. “I had a chance to escape,” she said. “Just disappear in the chaos of Daala’s breakout. For a while, I did just that. I thought about going to Eramuth, but I realized I would put him in a terrible position if I did.”

“So you went to the Solos,” Jag said, a touch of anger in his voice.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Tahiri continued quietly. “I was found guilty in a court of law. I was sentenced to execution. And I’m running away from it. And viewed in a certain light, that’s completely accurate. But … I want to make things right, Jag. My death won’t help anyone. It won’t bring Gilad Pellaeon back, it won’t repair any damage I’ve caused. It’s legal … but it’s not just. I have many debts to repay, many errors to correct. And I want to do that.”

“When she came to us with this, I had an idea,” Leia said. “Technically, the crime was against a former Imperial admiral. Justice would best be served by having Tahiri tried in an Imperial court. And until such a