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“Leia would never allow such a thing,” Luke said. “I stake my honor on it.”

“Perhaps we should first see if we can drive one Yevethan ship away with this trickery,” said another woman.

Luke spun on his heel, searching for the face that belonged to the voice. “No—no, that would be a mistake. Not without at least one real warship available to back up the bluff,” said Luke. “We have to give them every reason to believe—and only one chance to decide, with everything at stake.”

“Then it will be necessary for the fleet commander to be part of this plan,” said Wialu.

Turning back, Luke nodded hopefully. “Yes.”

“Do you know where he is, or how to find him?”

“I can find the fleet,” Luke said. “I can take you to General A’baht.”

“Then I will go with you,” said Wialu. “And we will see how great a fire is burning.” She turned and directed a hard look at Akanah. “You will come, too.”

There were no walls or guards at the perimeter of Mon Mothma’s estate in Surtsey. Though she was still under the protection of Ministry Security, their presence on her property was limited to a sensor grid monitored by two fast-response teams based just off the grounds. A special traffic patrol kept the airspace near the estate swept clear of possible threats.

Even though Leia had been neither invited nor asked to visit, none of those precautions was any hindrance to her arrival. She landed her orbital jumper neatly on the smaller of the two landing pads in the northeast corner of the estate, then began the long walk through the outer gardens and the tree moat to the house itself.

The outer gardens had vivid patches of purple, cobalt blue, and pale orange—intybus, commelina, and anagallis were in bloom, and centaurea pods were everywhere, promising an eruption of pink in the next day or two. The air in the tree moat was cool, shadowed, and rich with complex scents. Leia felt the deep peacefulness of an old forest envelop her.

Inside the circle of the tree moat were the house and inner gardens, and both were more modest than what surrounded them might lead a visitor to expect. The low, squarish house had but three rooms, all with transparent walls and ceilings, and the inner gardens were little more than accents for patches of soft ground cover and walking paths.

Mon Mothma was inside, sitting in what she called her salon with her feet up and a datapad on her lap. She looked up as Leia neared the entry door, and motioned her inside.

“Leia,” she said with a smile. “It’s been months. Come in.”

Leia was taken aback by Mon Mothma’s appearance. Her short hair was now startlingly silver, and the fine lines around her eyes were visible from across the room. “Mon Mothma,” she managed to say. “I hope you’ll forgive my intruding—”

“It’s hardly that,” she said. “But you’re staring,” she added gently.

“I—”

“This is not the mark of Furgan’s treachery you see lingering on me.” The allusion was to the Caridan ambassador’s nearly successful attempt to poison her—an attempt that had precipitated Mon Mothma’s retirement. “I’ve earned every line and white hair, Leia. Just as you are starting to earn some of your own. Now, it’s true—I refuse to paint my face and pretend to youth and inexperience. Do you think that vain of me?”

“I think you’re still full of surprises, Mon Mothma—and still teaching little lessons at every opportunity.”

A little laugh lit the older woman’s eyes. “Get yourself a drink and come sit with me. The afternoon sun will have the thrann tree dripping sap before long, and then the barbary birds will come out to feed. They’re so tiny and so swift—I can watch them for an hour and never be bored.”

Mon Mothma’s pantry contained a legendary array of potent and aromatic drinks collected from all over the galaxy, but Leia contented herself with a tall flask of cold fallix water.

“So tell me what’s driven you away from Imperial City,” Mon Mothma said when Leia had settled in the chair beside her. “I don’t keep up with capital affairs these days, but I know it wasn’t my gardens that drew you here.”

“Do you know what’s happened