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On the other hand, Niathal could not be allowed to learn that Caedus’s behavior was changing because of concern for the child. So far as she knew, Allana was a hostage, leverage against the Hapan Queen Mother. For Niathal to suspect that Caedus’s feelings were more personal, more heartfelt, could endanger both of them if Niathal ever turned against him.

Caedus relented, shrugging. “Fine. I’ll do it. Do you mind if I make an effort not to get killed when this turns out to be a trap?”

“Do what you need to.”

“I’ll have units of the Second Fleet standing by to jump to the talk site. To deal with whatever forces Koyan decides to bring in.”

“As you wish. I’ll comm the Corellians with an acceptance.”

Caedus nodded, a gesture of agreement that he meant as one of dismissal, as well. Whether she understood that or not, Niathal paused for a moment, looking at him, before turning and leaving.

SANCTUARY MOON OF ENDOR, JEDI OUTPOST

Through the transparisteel of the door separating the waiting room from the infirmary proper, Luke studied Master Katarn’s face and listened to the words of Valin and Cilghal.

Katarn was unconscious—whether from drugs, pain, or voluntary immersion in a Jedi healing trance, Luke couldn’t say. His face was flushed, sweating, and he looked as though he’d lost weight in the days he’d been on Coruscant.

Cilghal managed to impart considerable worry and sympathy into her gravelly Mon Cal voice. “The attack severed two ribs, penetrated his left lung, and exited through his left shoulder blade. A few centimeters off, and it would have gone clean through his heart. He has also contracted the affliceria bug and some opportunistic infections. He is dehydrated and very weak, and traveling so far to get here could not have helped—except that it was still a better choice than remaining in hiding on Coruscant.”

“I patched him up as well as I could, as soon as possible after he was injured.” Valin sounded morose. “But we had to drag him through about a kilometer of filthy pipes before we could do even that. Explosives we planted to seal our escape routes kicked dust into the air, dust and germs.” He shook his head, pained by his failure. “Basic medical training isn’t sufficient for a situation like that.”

Luke patted his shoulder. “You did remarkably well. The fact that he’s here alive is proof of that, and if anyone can heal him, it’s Cilghal.” He finally turned away from studying Katarn to look at Valin. The young Jedi Knight was solemn but not showing evidence of protracted stress or guilt, a good sign. “Do you have a full report for me?”

Valin reached into his belt and removed a datacard, which he handed to Luke. “I’ve flagged one or two points of interest on the report; you may want to pay special attention to them. A YVH combat droid that was programmed to get its cargo out of harm’s way rather than help its master defend against four Jedi. Mob violence in response to the affliceria epidemic, against both state medical officials and people of Commenori descent—plus the fact that these reports were suppressed on the holonews broadcast after they were first reported, almost as though the GA government isn’t whipping the population up into a frenzy about it.”

Luke pocketed the card. “I’ll look for those details.” He was distracted by a stirring in the Force, the imminent arrival of others. There was no sense of menace associated with the presentiment, though. He glanced at the two Jedi. “Anything else?”

But the answer came from behind Luke, accompanying a bustle of several moving bodies. Boots creaked, durable uniform cloth rubbed, equipment clattered, and a new voice rose above it all: “How about some news from Corellia?”

Luke turned around to see a half squadron of pilots headed his way—wearing sweat-stained orange flight suits, their helmets under their arms, they had to have just come from their starfighters. In front, familiar and reassuring, was Wedge Antilles, sharp-featured and graying; behind, a step to the right, was Wes Janson, his alert eyes and broad grin