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Han put one arm around Leia’s shoulders, and extended the other to Pellaeon. “I know just where to hang it,” he told Leia as he was pumping the admiral’s hand.

Leia raised her eyes to his. “Hang it? Han, we don’t even have a home. Unless you mean—”

He nodded. “Our cozy cabin space on the Falcon. Right over the bunk.”

Jade Shadow was the last ship to launch from Zonama Sekot, with Mara, Luke, Ben, and R2-D2 aboard. Mara took the craft to a distance of three hundred thousand kilometers, then cut the sublight engines and swung her about to face the living world. Luke ducked into the cockpit, leading Ben by his tiny hand, with the astromech trailing slightly behind. No sooner had Mara swiveled her chair around than Ben climbed into her lap.

“Won’t be long now,” she said.

Luke nodded and sat down. “I’ll comm them.”

Seven weeks had passed since the surrender. For all intents and purposes the transfer of the Yuuzhan Vong had been completed, though several dozen remained on Coruscant, and fighting continued in some of the more remote star systems. Their presence lingered also in the form of countless dovin basal mines, and in the refugees that crowded nearly every spaceport, and most tragically of all in husks of the worlds the invaders had crisped, poisoned, and altered beyond recognition.

A reply to Luke’s holotransmission finally arrived. He had left the comm unit in Danni’s care, but it was a diminutive and noisy image of Magister Jabitha that resolved above the cockpit’s projector, and the voice of Sekot who spoke through her.

“Farewell, Skywalker,” Sekot said. “With the Jedi in the known regions and myself in the unknown, we may eventually succeed in making this galaxy whole.”

“We’ll do our part, Sekot,” Luke said. “We’re greatly indebted to you.”

“There can be no debt when we serve to the same design, Skywalker. May the Force be with you.”

“And with you, Sekot.”

Gazing at something outside the holofield, Jabitha said, “I give you to your comrades,” and shortly an image of Harrar appeared.

“I leave today by airship for the far side of the planet,” the priest said. “It will be interesting to see what becomes of my people. Our challenge will be to keep from giving vent to the warrior instincts we cultivated over the generations, and refrain from making war on ourselves, as we did during the transit of the intergalactic void.”

“That transit brought you home,” Luke said.

The priest returned a tentative nod. “When all Yuuzhan Vong have accepted that, then our circle will be closed. I hope that you will visit us, Master Jedi.”

“In time,” Luke said. “Until then you have our envoys.”

Tahiri, Danni, and Tekli crowded into the field. “Goodbye, Luke,” they said in unison. “Good-bye, Mara. Goodbye, Ben and Artoo.”

Ben buried his face in Mara’s chest, and R2 whimpered and rocked from side to side on his treaded feet.

“Tekli, have the shapers agreed to allow you to study with them?” Mara asked.

The Chadra-Fan nodded. “I’ll be traveling with Harrar.”

“What about Danni and Tahiri?” Luke said.

“Who do you think’s piloting Harrar’s airship?” Danni said.

“Tahiri,” Luke said, “I’d like you to make it a priority to locate Widowmaker.”

“I will, Master,” she said.

Mara looked sad. “It’s not too late to change your minds and come with us.”

“Oh, but they have to remain here,” Jabitha interrupted. “Someone is going to have to succeed me as Magister. Perhaps some three …”

Luke smiled in understanding. “Have a safe jump.”

“The Ferroans have their shelters,” Jabitha said, “the Yuuzhan Vong, theirs. The jump will go well.”

The transmission ended abruptly. Luke gazed out the viewport to see engines flare to life across Zonama Sekot’s northern hemisphere, their intense plasma cones propelling the planet slowly, majestically, out of the cold orbit it had adopted. It struck him that the planet had never looked more enchanting. It glowed in the star-strewn blackness like some finely wrought orb of glass.

Instinctively Luke reached