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Leia just shook her head, both stunned and aghast at the scene before her. The time she’d spent shepherding refugees from one world to another had taught her some grim facts. The Yuuzhan Vong did not respect refugee sites; in fact, they targeted worlds that offered a haven to people displaced by war. Given Hapes’s reclusive history, and the recent devastation of its fleet, this new course seemed not only strange, but suicidal. There was no way the decimated Hapan fleet could hold off even a minor Yuuzhan Vong attack.

“How long do you think it will take to complete repairs on the Falcon?” she asked.

“Hard to say. Why?”

She turned troubled eyes to his face. “Whether Teneniel Djo realizes it or not, she’s made Hapes the next target for the Yuuzhan Vong.”

“That base-born rycrit will be the last of the queen mothers, and the death of us all!” Ta’a Chume fumed as she paced the priceless mosaic covering the floor of her chamber.

A comely young man reclined on a settee, watching the tall, red-veiled woman with a mixture of concern and resignation.

To his way of thinking, Ta’a Chume was difficult to please and dangerous to cross, but she was also exceedingly powerful, and wealthy, and indulgent toward her favorites. No one could deny that the former queen mother was getting on in years, but she was still remarkably beautiful—straight and shapely, with elegant facial bones that defied the slackness and softening of age, and abundant red-gold hair only slightly silvered by time. All things considered, Trisdin was quite content with his lot.

“Teneniel Djo has ruled for nearly twenty years, despite her obvious limitations,” he pointed out. “Surely that proves the strength and security of the royal house.”

Ta’a Chume shot a venomous glare at her favorite. “You go among the common folk. What are they saying of Prince Isolder?”

His throat suddenly went dry. “He is greatly loved by his people—”

She cut him off with an impatient, imperious gesture. “Don’t insult me with placating lies! My son committed a large Consortium fleet to the battle that destroyed it. Since the disaster at Fondor, there have been no fewer than seven attempts on his life. Some of them from members of the royal family!”

Most of them initiated by Alyssia, niece to Ta’a Chume and strikingly like her in appearance and temperament. Trisdin liked to think of the two women as morning and evening, and whenever possible, he divided his time accordingly.

“Where is the prince now?” he asked as casually as he could. “In safety, I would hope?”

Ta’a Chume stopped pacing and fixed a speculative look at the young man. “I persuaded him to go offworld.”

“That must have been difficult. The prince is not one to run from trouble.”

“To the contrary; he inevitably runs toward it! But even Isolder is capable of learning. Fondor proved that taking action before gathering adequate information can prove fatal. It was not difficult to convince him of the value of a fact-finding mission. He knows how vulnerable Hapes now is, and he wishes to learn as much about the invaders as possible. Thanks to Teneniel Djo, he’ll soon have opportunity to test this knowledge!”

“I don’t see why he allowed Teneniel Djo to open Hapes to refugees.”

The woman’s eyes flamed above her veil. “He has no right to gainsay her, and no power to do so. She is the queen mother.”

“And as such, she should be honored … for as long as she can manage to hold the throne,” Trisdin said, understanding his role. Ta’a Chume hated her daughter-in-law, but she was protective of the title and its power. She might wish to see the younger woman dead—she might even arrange it—but she would hear no slight upon the royal office.

Trisdin unfolded his long limbs and strolled over to Ta’a Chume. He stood behind her and began to massage her shoulders with practiced skill. “So many burdens,” he crooned. “The Yuuzhan Vong, the debacle at Fondor, the issue of succession.” Ta’a Chume went tense beneath his hands. “That has not yet been resolved?”

“No,” she said shortly.