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Inside, a solemn-faced little redheaded girl looked up at him. Her voice was high and piping, but unafraid. “Your beard is nasty.”

“Isn’t it?” He stooped to lift her out of the case. She seemed in good spirits despite the hours she’d had to remain lying down, but the ready supply of snacks and availability of a game-laden datapad had doubtless helped. “Were you afraid, Tika?”

“No. I really have to go to the refresher. Really really.”

Caedus gestured forward, to the narrow door just on his side of the entry to the main compartment. “Go ahead. And when you’re done, we’re going to put you in a new dress and do your hair, then have some fun.”

“Good. I want to play.” She dashed to the refresher.

“You will.”

Elsewhere in the palace, levels above and many meters away from the visitors’ hangar, Queen Mother Tenel Ka stared into a mirror, seeing the worry in the gray eyes of her reflection.

A delicate chime sounded. Tenel Ka said, “Enter,” freeing the security measures on the door. It slid to one side, admitting her father, Prince Isolder.

A mature man once counted among the most handsome in the galaxy, he had grayed with an inevitable grace and dignity that made him a target of envious anger by anyone who had not aged so well. Had he been a common man, he could have earned a lavish income promoting exercise regimens and health supplements. But the loose-fitting, flare-sleeved blue tunic he wore cost more than a year’s such income.

He bent over Tenel Ka to kiss the top of her head. “You seemed to be anxious for privacy. As a good parent, of course I can’t accede to your wishes.”

She smiled despite her mood. “You’re still a pirate at heart. Disobedient, conceited, cocksure…”

“A lovely compliment. Thank you.” He moved to settle on a scarlet divan. “What has you so upset?”

She shrugged. “I think it’s this meeting with the GA representatives. I can’t seem to settle on the right amount of time to keep them waiting. It’s a harder choice than usual. It’s not just about queenly dignity or meeting the expectations of my court about royal prerogatives.”

In the mirror, she saw her father nod. “You want to see them when they are at their most desperate. When they are most likely to agree to your demands to have Colonel Solo removed from power.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re weighing that against the lives being lost every day in the war.”

“Yes.”

Isolder considered. Tenel Ka watched him. Normally she did not need or seek political advice. But her father offered a rare exception. He was not scheming to put himself or some other favorite on the throne. He had decades of political experience not only within the Hapes Consortium but also outside, in the galaxy at large. Political and—as she had reminded him—piratical, his decision making was grounded as much in the realm of bloody deck plates as in the rarefied air of Hapan noble maneuvering.

Finally he met her gaze again. “You’ve already made your demand of them. At Kuat.”

“I did.”

“Send these diplomats home. Today. Seeing them would only give them the opportunity to argue with you. Seeing them later gives them the hope that they can argue with you then. Ejecting them from Hapan space tells them that there will be no negotiation. That, more than anything, will increase their sense of desperation.”

She cocked her head, considering. “You’re right.”

Another series of chiming musical notes filled the air. This was not a door signal, but a communication indicating that the security alert level within the palace had just eased up another notch.

This was not an unusual event. Alert levels rose and fell with the frequency, and usually meaninglessness, of corporate stock values on Coruscant. Still, Tenel Ka had known the reason for the last one, an hour ago—the arrival of the GA diplomatic shuttle, with the usual security disturbances such an intrusion demanded. This one did not relate to any change of condition she knew of.

She pressed a button on the edge of her vanity table. “Lady Aros?”

A moment later, her chamberlain