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“I don’t remember a lot of what happened. But Jacen and Luke were the ones who fought Shimrra and Onimi.”

Snow frosted her cap and the tops of her shoulders. Her cheeks and nose were red with cold, and she looked radiant.

“Jaina, time is scarce, so I’ll come straight to the point. I’m returning to Csilla, and I want you to come with me. I know that my parents and my sister, Wynssa, would love to meet you.”

Even though a light smile formed on her lips, the answer was in her eyes, and Jag felt as if he had been deflated.

“I’d love to see Csilla—really. But this isn’t the right time.”

“For Csilla, or for us?”

Her face wrinkled, and she took her lower lip between her teeth. “Don’t make this too hard on me, okay?”

“It’s your parents, isn’t it? They hate the thought of you consorting with the son of a former Imperial. It goes against the Skywalker-Solo grain.”

She frowned. “You’re way off. After what you did for my father at Hapes, and all you’ve done since, they practically consider you family. And even if that was true, do you think that would stop me from going with you?”

“It’s Kyp, then.”

“Wrong again.”

Jag beetled his brows. “I don’t understand. What’s made you change your mind about us?”

She shook her head. “I think it’s good that you’re going to Csilla. I need some time to work through everything that’s happened, Jag.”

“I love you, Jaina,” he blurted.

Jaina made her lips a thin line, then sighed and said, “I love you, too. Someday I want a partner, and I want what my mom and dad have, and what Luke and Mara have. I intend to raise a family. I just want to be sure that I can offer my children more than what Mom and Mara have been able to offer theirs.” She reached for both his hands. “I’m glad that we found each other, Jag. You made the worst time of my life a lot easier to bear. But now I’m still on the move, I’m still a Jedi and a fighter pilot. Do you understand—even a little?”

Jag blew out his breath. “As much as I don’t wish to, I do understand.”

“I’d love to be some kind of diplomatic envoy.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’ll tell you a secret: One day I want to have a seat on the Advisory Council, alongside Luke, Kyp, Cilghal, and the others. Maybe then we can think about something more permanent.”

Jag smiled broadly. “Then our paths may just cross again sooner than you imagine.”

She looked at him askance. “I don’t think I’ll be getting to Chiss space anytime soon, Jag.”

“You won’t have to. I’ve been appointed by the CEDF as liaison to the Alliance.”

“You—a diplomat?”

“I can be very diplomatic when I need to be.”

“Oh, I know that, all right. But—”

“Just think about it: the two of us rendezvousing on fabulous worlds, from one side of the galaxy to the other.”

Jaina’s eyes narrowed in delight. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad.”

Gently, he pulled her back into his arms and lowered his voice. “I’ll work hard at making our encounters nothing short of wonderful.”

Jaina laughed. “Maybe there is a touch of scoundrel in you, after all.”

They kissed passionately, while the snow continued to fall.

“Five years ago, at the signing of the accord between the Imperial Sector and the New Republic, we met aboard your ship, Captain Solo and Princess Leia,” Gilad Pellaeon said. “Now I have the honor of your being aboard my vessel at the start of a new era.”

“We’re the ones who are honored, Admiral,” Leia said.

White-haired and mustachioed Pellaeon was attired in a pure white uniform, and Leia and Han were wearing the best of the few outfits they had left to their names. The three of them were in the Grand Admiral’s spacious and elegantly appointed quarters, on the starboard side of Right to Rule’s command tower. Beneath the viewport an exquisitely carved table was spread with bowls of food and flasks of fine liquor. In stationary orbit above Coruscant, the flagship of the Imperial fleet was central to a group of other Star Destroyers, which themselves comprised only a part of the Alliance flotilla