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They docked the Shadow at Port Duggan. Mara threw on a hooded cloak over the remains of her costume and led Jaina back to the cheap rental unit. As she slipped through the door, she felt a hesitant touch—Luke’s, making sure she was all right. She ran the same check herself, just to keep everything in perspective, as he embraced her.

Anakin sat on the near cot with his eyes shut, passing his lightsaber grip from hand to hand behind his back—a very young Jedi’s equivalent of fidgeting. A strand of dark-brown hair drooped into his face.

Jaina dropped onto the near cot and frowned at him, then over at Luke. “Did you tell him?” Jaina asked. “Anakin, Nom Anor didn’t die on Rhommamool after all. He’s here, and he’s a Yuuzhan Vong agent.”

“One more tidbit,” Mara said, staring straight at her husband’s eyes. “He claims he infected me with this disease. At Monor II.”

She hadn’t wanted to transmit that over the link because she wanted to see his reaction, and he didn’t disappoint her. He raised his head, eyes wide, radiating a depth of fury she rarely saw in him. He controlled it instantly, of course.

“What do you think?” he asked, once again projecting that Jedi Master calm.

Mara had crossed her forearms. She clenched her opposite elbows. “He might know how to tell if I’m really cured. I would love to go back for him.”

Luke’s cheek twitched—again, the reaction so subtle that Jaina and Anakin missed it entirely. “So would I,” he said, “but if you’ve confirmed a Yuuzhan Vong agent downside, that fits what we’ve been finding.”

He gave her a sketchy report, implicating CorDuro Shipping in the downside colonies’ shortfalls—and his own suspicions. By digging back through layers of encryption in altered shipping records, R2-D2 had discovered that the Port Duggan branch of CorDuro Shipping was in fact diverting SELCORE and other supplies to another Duros habitat—but recording the supplies as sold offworld, in case SELCORE enforcers got suspicious.

“We also checked every lead Tresina Lobi gave me, and Artoo’s been searching the port authority’s records.”

Mara glanced at the little droid, who stood at a data port. “Comparing arrivals with departures?”

Luke nodded. “And tracing them both back. We’re trying to verify a connection with the Peace Brigade. And possibly a link to SELCORE itself.”

If Karrde’s suspicion proved correct, and SELCORE or other high-level councils had been infiltrated, the New Republic was in worse trouble than anyone suspected.No wonder Luke seemed agitated: the small, jerky hand movements, the set to his chin, and most of all, the edginess that was getting through to her on the Force.

“Thrynni Vae vanished in a seedy area of Port Duggan,” he continued. “No surprise, really. Anakin and I just looked it over. The tapcafs are quiet. Almost too quiet.”

R2-D2 squealed softly.

Luke straightened. “Got something more?” He leaned toward the readout over R2-D2’s data port, and Mara bent close.

Letters appeared, scrolling rapidly. It started with a list of entries that had been deleted or altered in some way: recent hires at Port Duggan, arrivals back half a year, visitors logged into Vice-Director Brarun’s office. Several names reappeared.

Under that list, R2-D2 had tracked the frequently mentioned names’ travel backward and forward. For several, the trail vanished after three hops. Two, though, had traveled to Ylesia and back—several times. Those entries were flagged.

Next appeared a security file from Duro’s communication repeaters. Very few droids in the New Republic carried the programming it would take to slice into that log. The links between here and Ylesia showed multiple hits.

“What’s there?” Anakin asked, peering around Mara’s shoulder. “That’s clear out in Hutt space.”

“The Hutts used to run a slave-snaring scam there,” Mara murmured. “And your dad claims it’s a Peace Brigade hot spot.” She turned to Luke. “So maybe Thrynni was abducted there?”

Luke hesitated for several seconds. “It’s the best lead we’ve had, but I hate to send anyone on a wild yunax chase.”

“I’d guess Vice-Director