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“What?”

“How could I have been so wrong about Nil Spaar? How could I have sat there for so long, being lied to with smiles, and never have known? I’m a Jedi—I’m supposed to be more perceptive than that.”

“You don’t lean on that talent very hard,” he said. “From what I can see, you don’t really want to.”

“I guess there’s some truth in that,” she admitted. “Still, I can’t stop thinking I should have known what he was.”

“I think maybe you saw what you wanted to see,” Han said gently. “You still believe in the basic goodness and rationality of the people you meet. Not everyone has that handicap.”

Though he likely could have had for the asking one of the suites held for senior officers and guests, General A’baht was billeted in a double in one of the enlisted dormitories. And though he had more than enough right to have it closed, the door to his room was standing open, respecting a tradition that redrew the boundaries of privacy from the first day of training.

A’baht himself was prone on the floor, turned half away from the door, going through a strenuous series of body lifts without so much as a grunt.

“General,” Leia said. “May I come in?”

The Dornean officer came to his feet smoothly and saluted smartly. “Princess,” he said. “I am—surprised—to see you.”

Leia closed the door behind her. “I think we need to talk. I received your apology, and offer to resign, on the way over here—”

“Princess, I hope you understand that I am not bargaining to escape the consequences of my actions,” A’baht said. “I’m willing to stand for court-martial, or resign, or accept demotion to whatever grade you deem fit—whatever you think would be best for the Fleet and the Republic. I do not want to be the cause of any further embarrassment for you, or the Fleet, or Chandrila.”

Leia pulled a straight-backed chair out from under the small desk and sat down. “You know, General, I’ve been thinking a lot about resigning myself. I’ve made several—mistakes—lately that I’ve had trouble accepting.

“A little while ago, after talking things over with my best friend in the world, I decided that the hardest thing for me to do would be to stay where I am—and so that was what I was going to do. And it’s going to be hard enough that I think I’d better have your help. Your offer to resign is rejected.”

“I understand, Princess. If I may—has a date been selected for my trial?”

“Trial?” She shook her head. “You don’t have time for a trial, General. You and I both still have work to do.”

“Sir?”

She sighed. “General—I was wrong. I can’t put it any more plainly. Will you accept my apology, and return to the Intrepid as commander of the Fifth Fleet?”

Surprise sat uncomfortably on the Dornean’s features. “Princess, can I possibly have your confidence after what’s happened?”

“What happened shouldn’t have happened. But the blame is mine, not yours,” Leia said. “Your conduct—and your judgment—were both faultless. You will have my confidence for as long as your service to the New Republic remains on such a high plane.”

A’baht was visibly embarrassed. “Then—Princess, I thank you for your apology, which you did not owe me. And I am at your disposal, to serve in whatever capacity you feel I can be useful.”

“Good,” she said, standing and gesturing at their surroundings. “Because you really don’t belong here. Can I give you a ride to Eastport, General?”

The loyalty of small men can be bought cheaply, because greed has no pride.

Within minutes of General Etahn A’baht’s return to the Fifth Fleet, the armada jumped into hyperspace, heading for Farlax and Koornacht Cluster. Within minutes of that event, Belezaboth Ourn, extraordinary consul of the Paqwepori, had reported it to Viceroy Nil Spaar by hyperspace comm.

“I don’t know what orders the general has been given, of course,” Ourn said. “But the princess herself was seen delivering him to his shuttle, and the entire fleet is gone, as quickly as it returned, and with as little explanation.”

“Thank you, Consul,” Nil Spaar said gravely. “Your assistance will not be forgotten