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Jacen gave Wedge a condescending look. “You don’t need to offer a defense yet. War crimes trials haven’t even started. And if your negotiation is particularly skillful, they might not happen at all. So let’s get back to the subject. Admiral, your position is hopeless. The Corellian system is surrounded, blockaded. Despite the fact that numerous planets made noises of support when Corellia took its stance of defiance, not one has rebelled in support of Corellia; you are friendless. And you’re running short of crucial supplies. The smuggler convoy that you expected an hour or so ago is not running late; it is entirely in our hands, with all its bacta, all its munitions now helping the GA cause.”

Wedge smiled. “First you say we have no friends, and then you say people were arrested trying to bring us essential goods.”

“They were smugglers, not friends.”

“Sometimes smugglers become friends. Your father and I were smugglers who joined the Rebel Alliance cause. And now, since you’ve seized those cargoes rather than paying for them, you can be sure that fewer smugglers will become friends with the Galactic Alliance. Are you saying that the GA doesn’t need friends? Or just doesn’t need friends like me and your father?”

“You’re changing the subject again.”

“True.” Abruptly Wedge looked weary, reflective. “I’ll be honest. I’d like to see Corellia reunited with the GA. If it isn’t, something very bad will happen.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“If Corellia doesn’t rejoin, if war truly erupts…I may never get my pension from the GA.”

“Wedge—”

“I earned that pension. Decades of service.”

“Be serious—”

“All right, I will.” All humor gone, Wedge fixed Jacen with a stare. “You’re dealing with a coalition government that hasn’t settled in place yet. Thrackan Sal-Solo hasn’t been dead very long, and the larvae are still wriggling out from under his rock. We need time to stamp them out. You don’t need to hurry. You don’t need our answer today, tomorrow, or next week, and any answer you provoke in a short time frame is an answer that will make everyone unhappy. Sit back, be patient, negotiate in good faith, and I have every reason to believe that Corellia will rejoin the GA.”

“So you’ll go back and recommend that Corellia surrender to us.”

Wedge shook his head. “Never in a thousand years.”

“What are you talking about, then?”

“I’ll recommend that Corellia rejoin the GA. Full acceptance of standard GA planetary admission terms, but no reparations. No punitive measures, no extra tariffs, no under-the-table activity against Corellians, and a genuine attempt to undo the effort to undermine the general Corellian reputation that has been taking place in the GA population. Can you negotiate toward that sort of resolution?”

“I…could. But if we suffer any more catastrophes like the bombing on Coruscant, all bets could be off.”

“Understood.” Wedge relented just a bit, some of the stiffness leaving his face, his posture. “So what are you going to do when the excitement’s all done? Stay on with your planetary police force, or go back to wandering the galaxy and rescuing cubs from trees? You used to be pretty good at that.”

Jacen masked a twitch of annoyance by shrugging. “Some combination of the Galactic Alliance Guard work and resuming my studies, I expect.”

“Hmmm. Has the political bug bitten you, then? Or do you just like the way you look in the uniform?”

Jacen sighed, exasperated. “Now you’re joking again. And I think we’ve done all we can with this meeting.”

“I think so, too.” Serious again, Wedge stood. “Jacen, may I say something to you not as an officer or negotiator, but as an old friend of the family?”

Jacen rose, too. “Something off the record, you mean? Of course.”

“No, no. On the record, off the record, it doesn’t matter. As an old friend of the family. Can you listen as an old friend?”

Still a trifle confused, Jacen nodded.

“Another old friend of mine, Wes Janson, the galaxy’s least serious man, except when he’s killing the enemy or trying to make a point, once