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Nek closed his eyes. “Vaandt cited the events at the Temple. It’s obvious what she thought.”

“Was what she thought true, Nek?” asked Eramuth, gently.

“I don’t know for certain. But I believe so.”

“The Jedi were thinking along similar lines,” Eramuth said.

Nek turned his head. “I assume this part is where Daala became former Chief of State?”

Eramuth nodded. “I hate that you need to know this, but you do.” Quickly, efficiently, and with compassion, he described the recovery of the “mad Jedi,” the bloodless coup, and Daala’s subsequent imprisonment. The triumvirate comprising Dorvan, Senator Treen, and Saba Sebatyne worked to continue keeping things from completely falling apart.

“I want to see her,” Nek said.

“Well, that’s what a lot of folks are saying,” said Eramuth. “Someone spirited her away before she could have a fair trial. It was during the chaos of her prison break that my client also escaped.”

Nek’s eyes widened at that. “I think perhaps I am still in my coma and watching a holodrama,” he said, his voice both wry and bitter. “Do we know who came to her aid?”

“We know who it was intended to look like,” said Asokaji. “One Boba Fett, in what looked like distinctive Mandalorian armor.”

“You think it wasn’t?”

“It was someone wearing a very good imitation of his armor.”

“In other words, someone wanted us to think it was Fett,” mused Nek.

“Precisely, sir. No leads yet as to who it really was.”

“Fett makes sense,” Nek said. He felt a profound sorrow. None of this had needed to happen. He had known Natasi Daala for years. Most of the time they saw eye-to-eye, but this …

“Whoever helped her escape, she must be found and brought to trial. A fair trial,” he said quietly. “I have sworn an oath of krevi to protect the Galactic Alliance, and I will do so with my last breath.”

“Which,” said Asokaji, “you almost experienced.” He exchanged glances with Eramuth. “For what it’s worth … neither of us thinks Daala had a hand in it.” His cheek folds darkened a little.

“He knows this because he called her on it,” said Eramuth. Nek gazed with renewed respect at his aide-de-camp.

“Her reaction convinced me she had nothing to do with it,” Asokaji continued, but he volunteered nothing more.

Nek nodded his understanding. “How is Dorvan holding up?”

“Quite well, all things considered. The man doesn’t have a lot of enemies. He might not be the most fascinating conversationalist in the world, but he gets things done and nearly everyone’s amenable to working with him. The Jedi aren’t out to ruin the GA, Nek.”

“I know,” Nek said. “That was one thing that Daala never understood.” He sighed, growing fatigued by the conversation. “I suppose I’d better fill you in on what I remember of the attack before I drift off again,” he said.

“Before you do that, I think we need to bring another participant to the meeting,” said Eramuth. He reached into his old-fashioned black bag and withdrew a decidedly modern miniature holographic receiver. He pressed a button, and a very small figure of Wynn Dorvan appeared.

“Admiral,” said Dorvan’s tiny image.

“Dorvan,” said Nek, pleased. “Good to see you, even looking so tiny.”

“Not all of us can be tall and intimidating,” said Dorvan in his usual bland but pleasant tones. “I am delighted to hear that you are awake and alert. Your uncle has informed me, however, that very few know about your change in condition. I think that’s wise, and we should keep it that way for as long as we can. A sort of private club, as it were.”

Nek glanced at his uncle, his aide, and the acting Chief of State. It was a good and trustworthy group … and just as important, small. He nodded.

“I agree. I remember everything about the attack. Let me tell you about it.”

As he spoke, Nek realized that he would be confirming the rumors that he and Daala had been involved personally, but it could not be helped. Everyone needed to know the stark, simple truth if they were to accomplish the goals of shoring up the GA, bringing Daala back to