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“No, I am merely well acquainted with academic laziness.” The Twi’lek considered. “I would recommend the world of Lorrd. It is a repository of academic knowledge, and its people, like my own, have developed a greater facility with nonverbal communication than most. Perhaps it would improve the odds that they have concentrated knowledge in this field. But you must take the item there. I can’t guarantee that experts in other fields of communication could interpret the meaning of one of those tassels from a replica.”

Jacen nodded. “Just what I wanted to know. My compliments to you, For’ali.”

“Thank you for bringing me a task suited to my interests. Perhaps, when all is done, you could send me the original item to study.” For’ali smiled. “Replicas are never quite as good.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Thank you, and good-bye.”

“Farewell.”

Jacen leaned forward to punch the disconnect button, and the hologram of the Twi’lek faded from view. Jacen relaxed back into his chair and sat for long moments studying the bottom tassel.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” Ben asked.

Jacen nodded, absently, and gestured for the boy to sit in the next chair.

Ben sat. “Because those words are kind of like a Jedi saying?”

“Partly that. It’s like the old mantra, but less, I don’t know, wholesome. The other thing that bothers me is that the statement could have been made about me—at least, the way I was during the war with the Yuuzhan Vong. The way I was treated when I was a captive…well, pain is all they know.”

“So we’re going to Lorrd?”

“We’re going to Lorrd. Go pack.”

CORONET, CORELLIA

The war conference room was almost empty. Wedge Antilles shook hands with Admiral Karathas and her aides, then watched them depart the chamber. He began fiddling with his datapad, doubtless organizing the innumerable files he’d been beamed by various officers once his plan for the liberation of Tralus had been given tentative approval.

“We do need to wait for the YVH droids to come back for us,” Leia said.

“I know that,” Han protested. “I wasn’t planning on popping out into the corridor while Thrackan’s security team waits out there.”

“Well, you looked impatient.”

“Ah.” Han tried to force himself to look less impatient.

He couldn’t. Wedge’s plan occupied almost all his brain’s processing power.

Nor was he fooling her. “Don’t volunteer,” Leia said.

“Huh? For what?”

“For Wedge’s plan.”

“I—” The part of Han’s mind that could convincingly spin excuses and arguments didn’t have enough resources available to it. He resorted to the truth. “I have to, Leia. That mission was made for me.”

“You don’t think Thrackan will find out who the pilots are? You could survive the mission only to be blown up by remote control when returning to Corellia.”

“I’m sure Wedge can—”

“General Antilles.” It was Thrackan’s voice again, still booming from the next observation room.

Below, Wedge glanced up again. “Sir.”

“I have a favor to ask of you. As Minister of War. Something that’s distinctly in your patriotic duty to do. Something you really should have done by now.” Thrackan’s tone was pleasant, not at all urgent.

Wedge returned his attention to his datapad. “Let’s hear it.”

“You have a daughter serving with the Galactic Alliance armed forces under the name of Lysa Dunter. She’s assigned to the force occupying Tralus.”

Even from this distance, and even seeing as little of Wedge’s face as his current orientation afforded her, Han and Leia could see the man’s sudden stillness.

Han could imagine what Wedge was feeling. He had a sudden urge to ask Leia to cut a hole in the wall separating the two chambers so he could take a few shots.

Wedge closed his datapad and tucked it into a pocket, then casually turned in his chair to face up at Thrackan. “Yes, she’s in the GA armed forces. As a lot of Corellians are. Though I’m not sure where she is right now.”

“I’m going to send her a message,” Thrackan said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d include a note asking her to cooperate with what I suggest.”

“And what are you going to suggest?”

“That’s not really