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Thane apparently wasn’t accustomed to fighting someone his own size, and Isolder made the most of it. Time and again he caught Thane’s foot in his upper arm or shoulder or managed to duck his head out of the way. But Isolder appeared to be tiring. With little left to pitch that he hadn’t already tried, he again advanced with left fist, right fist, as windup for a right roundhouse kick.

Leia’s breath caught in her throat. It was the most elementary and binary kind of gamble. Thane had to decide whether Isolder was setting the move up as a feint, or was going to commit to it this time. It came down to whether or not Thane believed Isolder was fool enough to stake everything—his reputation, Thane’s promise to side with Hapes with regard to the Yuuzhan Vong, perhaps even the respect of the royal family and Leia—on trying the same trick after it had been compromised the first go-round.

Thane set himself for a feint and counter. Isolder let him believe he had chosen correctly by using broken timing—appearing for an instant to be faking—then let fly the intended roundhouse.

From the sound of the impact, it was clear that Isolder had planned the kick to connect with enough force to end the match. Even so, he exercised more restraint than Thane probably would have shown. The slap of the boot on the headguard echoed off the black rocks that graced the shore, and the primary referee had one hand up to signal the winning point before Thane had hit the ground.

Betting stakes were changing hands even as the two opponents were bowing to each other. Given the added wager, many of the witnesses were beside themselves with outrage, and arguments began to erupt on all sides of the lawn.

One to whom success came often, Isolder didn’t flaunt his victory. Even the customary embraces he received from his wife and daughter failed to elicit so much as a smile. Archon Thane appeared grudgingly congratulatory, but Leia could see that there would be no lasting peace between House Thane and House Isolder.

At the moment, however, that didn’t matter. Thane’s loss meant at least one more vote on the side of supporting the New Republic.

Thane and his seconds began to storm away from the lawn, but before he reached the path that led to the dock, Thane changed direction and angled for Leia.

She braced herself.

“Ambassador, I will make my formal apology when the Consortium representatives convene to vote on the issue of rendering aid to the New Republic,” he began.“Rest assured that I will honor my pledge to stand with Prince Isolder.” He scowled, despite himself. “For now I wish only to applaud you for moving the Consortium one step closer to what will no doubt prove to be a catastrophic campaign.”

TWELVE

Melisma, Gaph, and a dozen other Ryn slogged through the shin-deep mud that had formed in the wake of Ruan’s most recent on-command downpour. Conditions in Facility 17 were deteriorating rapidly and no one was smiling, not even Gaph, who was usually unflappingly sanguine in the worst of situations.

The camp’s overseers had requested that the Ryn report to the familiarization sector, for purposes yet to be disclosed. A facsimile of civilization as defined by any number of Core worlds, the sector functioned as a training and indoctrination ground for those refugees bound for the heart of the New Republic.

Despite Salliche Ag’s attempt to maroon on Ruan as many refugees as possible, a host of worlds and corporations had similar employment scenarios in mind for the displaced peoples of the Outer and Mid Rims. Optical concerns were seeking species with innate visual acuity, and acoustical concerns sought species with expanded ranges of hearing. Some companies were desirous of nothing more than folks of size and brute strength. Still, most of the refugees had never resided in the Colonies, let alone on Core worlds, and so the need for indoctrination classes meant to bring the culturally deprived up to speed for their new lives.

Melisma and the rest trudged past crude buildings and pavilions where Basic was being taught