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“The claws are creatures, too,” she observed out loud. It was late enough that she no longer cared she was rambling. “Parasites, embedded deep into bone. That’s got to hurt.”

“They cherish pain,” Luke murmured.

Mara shook her head. Loosed from her hood, redgold hair flopped over her shoulders. “This wasn’t worth what we risked for it.”

“You took one Yuuzhan Vong operative out of commission,” Luke pointed out. “And found a way to kill the amphistaffs.”

“Not enough.”

“Mara,” he exclaimed, and she heard the exasperation in his voice. “Just having you on your feet is almost a miracle. Can’t you be thankful for small accomplishments?”

Trim from years of lightsaber drills and self-imposed gymnastic training, he’d picked up a scar or two himself, and his right hand was only a re-creation. His exquisite empathy gave both hands a powerful sensuality, though.

“You know me better than that,” she muttered, turning back to the scans. “Look at the nervous system. The microelectric fields are fully redundant. If they like to suffer, they’re built for it.”

“That must be why they can’t be stunned.”

“One point for you.”

Half smiling, he leaned closer to the readout. “She didn’t have as many bone breaks or scars as the one they scanned on Bimmiel.”

“That isn’t hard to figure out. They give low-ranking youngsters undercover work to prove themselves.” Mara fought back a yawn.

Luke stared pointedly at the Yuuzhan Vong female.

“Thanks,” Mara said dryly, “but you don’t have to pretend not to notice. I have a good reason to be tired. Let’s get some sleep.”

Luke had parked a skimmer on the rooftop pad. He slipped in first, claiming the pilot’s seat. Mara let him. From the Intelligence complex, it was a short hop—mostly open-air—back to their part of the Imperial Palace. Mara stared over a solid line of wing- and taillights.

“Reminiscing?” Luke asked.

She pulled her vest closer, hoping her sudden shiver was due to the evening chill. Several times, close proximity with the Yuuzhan Vong had seemed to spark relapses of her illness.

“Hardly,” she said.

He’d learned to respect her silences, and the times when she simply didn’t care to explain. She kept quiet as he slipped the skimmer into a parking slot as smoothly as any other pilot with fighter status. He’d retested, kept up his hours, and was still legally qualified to fly almost anything the New Republic could scramble against the Yuuzhan Vong, short of a Mon Cal battleship.

Count on Skywalker to do everything legal and square.

The corridors in their part of the palace were lined in exotic woods, sculpted with intricate swirls to deaden the echoes of feet hustling up Wayland marble tiles. Mara hung back, keeping both hands in her vest pockets, and let Luke open the door. It was plainer than most, but a good meter taller than either of them.

She sent the door shut and dropped her long vest over a service droid. From her left, a greeting tootled from the data/recharge station. Luke greeted his mechanical friend with an equally friendly chirrup. “Hi, Artoo.”

Their suite was small but elegant, and she liked living in a central location. Ahead, down three steps, a transparisteel vista window looked out over Coruscant. The spires of a new construct stuck up between Mara and the moonset.

She yawned. Leaning against a wall, she stared out at the large moon, watching as it crept lower, seeming to grow larger and duller as it slipped into city haze. Even a simple moonset looked ominous nowadays. If the enemy remade Coruscant, as they’d done to Belkadan, what color would these moonsets turn?

Warm arms slipped around her from behind. “Bed?” Luke murmured against her ear.

She closed her hands over his. “In a minute.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” That was her knee-jerk reaction, and Luke knew it. For some silly reason, he still asked. “I feel almost obnoxiously well.”

“You’re … uneasy, though,” he said. “And, no, I didn’t use the Force to see it. I just know you.”

“Well done,” she muttered, not in a mood to smart-mouth him. “It’s not for myself. Look out there. How many thousands of homes