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Mon Mothma blinked her greenish-blue eyes through the murk of the tank solution. Terpfen couldn’t tell if she could focus on them standing outside, or if she merely sensed their presence. She moved her head, and the thick air hose drifted with her. Bubbles pummeled her body, forcing invigorating solutions through her pores.

Mon Mothma released her grip on the stabilizers within the tank and floated up. The droids assisted her in getting out. She stood sagging, dripping as her lightweight robes dribbled solution into drainage grates on the floor. Even the thin wet robes seemed as heavy as a leaden shroud to her. Her auburn hair clung like a skullcap. Her eyes were sunken, her face chiseled with deep canyons of pain and weakness.

She filled her lungs and exhaled, resting the flat of her hand against the medical droid’s green shoulders. She raised her head with obvious effort and acknowledged her visitors.

“The treatments give me strength for only about an hour. Their effectiveness decreases every day,” she said. “Soon it will be useless, I’m afraid, and I will no longer be able to perform my functions as Chief of State. The only question is whether I resign before the Council removes me.…” She turned to Terpfen. “Don’t worry, I know why you are here.”

Terpfen blinked his glassy eyes. “I don’t believe—”

She raised a hand to cut off his objections. “Ackbar has spoken to me at great length. He has considered your case thoroughly, and I agree with his conclusions. You were not acting of your own free will, but were merely a victim. You have redeemed yourself. The New Republic can’t afford to throw away defenders who are willing to continue the fight. I have already issued a full pardon for you.”

She wavered, on the verge of slumping backward. The two medical droids moved to help her to a chair. “I wanted to make sure that got done before …”

Ackbar made a grumbling noise as he cleared his throat. “I am also here to tell you, Mon Mothma, that I have decided to stay. I will request that my rank be reinstated, now that it is clear the crash on Vortex was not solely due to my error, as I had originally thought. The people of Calamari are resilient, and they are strong—but if the New Republic is not also strong, my work at home will be fruitless, because we will face a galaxy full of shadows and fear.”

Mon Mothma smiled at Ackbar, a sincere expression of relief. “Ackbar, knowing that you will be here makes me feel stronger than any of these treatments ever did.” Then she showed a deeper misery and let her chin sink into her hands, a moment of weakness she would never have displayed in front of the Council. “Why did this disease have to strike me now? I’m mortal just like everyone else … but why now?”

Terpfen walked across the slippery floor, feeling the cold, polished surface on the soles of his broad feet. He bowed his scar-traced head. At the doorway the two New Republic guards stiffened at seeing the known traitor so close to their Chief of State, but Mon Mothma showed no alarm. Terpfen looked down at her.

“That is what I have come to discuss with you, Mon Mothma. I must tell you what has happened to you.”

Mon Mothma blinked, waiting for him to continue.

Terpfen searched for the right words. His mind seemed so empty now that the implanted biological circuits had been neutralized. He had hated the insistent compulsions from Carida, but now he was left alone with his own thoughts—no one else inside his skull to taunt him, or to guide him.

“You are suffering from no disease, Mon Mothma. You have been poisoned.”

She jerked in sudden shock but did not interrupt him.

“It is a slow, debilitating poison targeted specifically to your genetic structure.”

“But how was I exposed to this poison?” She looked hard at him, not accusing, but insisting on answers. “Did you do it, Terpfen? Was this another of your programmed actions?”

“No!” He reeled backward. “I have done many things—but this is not one of them. You were poisoned by Ambassador Furgan himself, as dozens of people watched. During