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Still, as she scanned the hundreds of capital ships anchored in local space—more than a hundred of which had trailed the Song of War from Hapes—she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed.

Painted to symbolize the Consortium worlds they represented, the Battle Dragons consisted of large dorsal saucers linked to smaller ventral ones by dozens of slender rotation struts. Ion and hyperdrive engines were wedged astern, and the bridge sat aft on the dorsal face of the upper saucer, the perimeter of which was studded with ion cannons. As a means of compensating for the ship’s relatively slow weapons-recharge rate, the equally distributed cannons were mounted on a drive disk that allowed them to be rotated for fire as need be. Sandwiched between and affixed to both saucers of the Battle Dragon were sixteen massive pulse-mass mines, each of which was capable of simulating the effects of mass shadows, thus hindering ships from making jumps into hyperspace.

By contrast, the Nova-class battle cruiser resembled a mountain climber’s two-pronged ice claw, with the ship’s viper-headed bridge occupying the distal end of what would be the tool’s long handle. Exceptionally fast, well shielded, and equipped for long-range reconnaissance, the cruiser boasted twenty-five turbolasers, ten laser cannons, and ten ion cannons, and could carry twelve Miy’til fighters and six Hetrinar assault bombers.

While the shuttle was docking inside the heavy cruiser Yald, Leia tried to arrange things so that Isolder would emerge on his own, followed by his contingent of mostly female honor guards and command staff, but the prince wouldn’t have it. He insisted instead that Leia walk by his side, a pairing she knew would not only become an endlessly repeated visual bite on the HoloNet, but also prove a source of amusement for those now-aged New Republic officers who had been in favor of her marrying Isolder so long ago.

Even so, she managed to put on her best face as she and Isolder descended the shuttle ramp arm in arm, to the strains of a Hapes march endowed with equal measures of pomp and circumstance by a well-rehearsed hundred-member military band. Leia had disengaged herself by the time they reached the deck, but she could tell by the expression on Commodore Brand’s craggy face that even he was a bit nonplussed by the regal formality of their arrival.

At Brand’s back stood rank after rank of soldiers at attention, saluting sharply when the music concluded.

“Welcome aboard, Prince Isolder,” Brand said, stepping forward and extending his hand.

Isolder threw his short cape over one shoulder and took hold of Brand’s hand—nearly crushing it in his grip, Leia was sure.

“Good to be here, Commodore.”

Brand smiled uncertainly as he turned to Leia. “Ambassador Organa Solo, welcome home. And on behalf of the New Republic, thank you for all you’ve done.”

Leia inclined her head in a courtly bow. “Thank Prince Isolder, Commodore. He was very persuasive in winning over the … Consortium.”

Brand nodded stiffly. “Your support might very well stem the tide, Prince Isolder. But our victory will not be earned lightly.”

“We are prepared to earn it, Commodore,” Isolder assured him. “Just tell me where to direct my forces.”

The command staffs of both groups moved to the tactical information center, deeper in the ship. During a private moment, Brand asked Leia about the voyage from Hapes. She repressed an urge to confide in him that it had been unsettling, and instead dismissed it as uneventful.

Dozens of officers and technicians were already gathered in the high-ceilinged TIC, seated at duty stations or clustered around light tables and plotting panels. Once Isolder, Leia, and the rest of the new arrivals were seated, Brand came right to the point.

“These are our most recent hyperspace probe reconnaissance images from Hutt space,” he began, gesturing toward the holograms resolving above one of the chamber’s many projector wells. He turned to address himself specifically