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He felt sympathy for baby Anakin, who had not known a more welcoming place during his first year. Ackbar had always felt a close attachment to the third child, but he had come to say goodbye before fading from public view forever.

He flew the B-wing in among the spired forests and rock outcroppings. It reminded him of the tall fluted towers of the Cathedral of Winds on Vortex. That thought gave him a stab of pain, and he tried not to think of it further.

He cruised the ship in among the rocks, flying confidently as he arrowed toward the opening to the network of caves. With landing jets and a careful manipulation of repulsorlifts, Ackbar managed to land the starfighter smoothly on the wide grotto floor.

As he powered down the engines and prepared to disembark, a metal crash door swung open. A tall rigid-looking woman stood at the doorway. Her robes and her white hair clearly identified her as Leia’s ageless servant Winter. Even for a human, she looked strikingly distinctive to Ackbar.

He climbed stiffly out of his ship and turned his salmon-colored head away to keep from meeting her eyes. He saw with a backward glance that the one-year-old baby toddled at Winter’s feet, making happy noises, curious to see the new visitor. Ackbar felt a shudder go through him as he realized he would probably never see the dark-haired boy again.

Winter spoke in her flat, no-nonsense voice. He had never heard her upset before. “Admiral Ackbar, please tell me what has happened.”

He turned to face her, showing his flightsuit, his lack of military insignia. “I am no longer an admiral,” he said, “and it is a long story.”

Ackbar sat eating a meal of reconstituted rations that Winter had somehow managed to make palatable. As he told her every detail of the tragedy on Vortex and how he had resigned from his service, Winter did not appear judgmental. She simply listened, blinking rarely, nodding even less often.

Baby Anakin crouched on Ackbar’s lap, cooing and reaching up in curiosity to pat Ackbar’s clammy skin and touch his huge glassy eyes. Anakin giggled as the round eyes swiveled in various directions to avoid being poked by pudgy fingers.

“Will you stay here for an evening’s rest—?” Winter said. Her sentence cut off sharply, as if she had been about to call him admiral.

“No,” Ackbar said, holding the baby against him with flipper-hands. “I can’t. No one must suspect that I have come here, and if I delay too long, they will realize I have not gone directly to Calamari.”

Winter hesitated and then spoke in a voice that seemed less able to conceal emotion than it normally did. “Ackbar, you know I have the greatest respect for your abilities. It would honor me if you would stay here with me instead of going into hiding on your homeworld.”

Ackbar looked at the human woman and felt a surge of emotion well up inside him. Winter’s mere suggestion had been powerful enough to strip away layers of guilt and shame with which he had buried himself.

When he did not answer immediately, she pressed further. “I’m all alone here, and I could use your help. It gets lonely for the baby … and for me.”

Ackbar finally managed to speak, avoiding Winter’s gaze but giving his answer before he could change his mind. “Your offer honors me, Winter, but I am not worthy. At least not at the moment. I must go to Calamari and search for peace there. If I—” The words caught in his throat again, and he realized he was trembling. “If I find my peace, perhaps I shall return to you—and the baby.”

“I—-we’ll be here waiting, if you change your mind,” she said, then escorted him back to the hangar grotto.

Ackbar felt her watching him as he climbed back into the B-wing. He lifted the ship on its repulsorlift jets and turned to see her standing at the doorway. He flicked his running lights to signal her.

Winter raised a hand in sad goodbye. Then, with her other hand, she made Anakin’s pudgy arm wave to him too.

Ackbar’s starfighter soared into space, leaving them behind.

Back on Coruscant, Terpfen lay sick and shivering in his private quarters, trying with