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“Actions have consequences.”

“What are the consequences here? Jacen and Corran can stay behind. We can leave them Jade Shadow, if you want. We’ll ask Sekot to grow us a ship.”

“It’s Sekot I’m worried about.”

Mara stared at him. “Sekot?”

“Sekot might misinterpret our leaving as a lack of trust, and change its mind about returning to known space.”

“Then you can explain our reason for leaving.”

“Tell Sekot that we’re worried about our son, about our friends, about what’s happened to the HoloNet?” Luke paused, then asked: “What about Sekot’s concerns for the Ferroans, or for what might happen to Zonama when it becomes part of the war?”

Mara mulled it over for a moment.

Luke squeezed her hands affectionately. “Ben will be fine. I saw him fine.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed in a reluctant smile. “You saw him piloting a ship of completely unfamiliar design—like the ones grown here.”

Luke recalled the rest of his vision: Ben tracing lines in the sand; kneeling by a river, rubbing smooth round stones between his fingers and smiling; wrestling with a young Wookiee … Luke saw himself holding Ben while they observed glowing lines of traffic move through the sky of an unknown world—like Coruscant but not. And, yes: Ben at the helm of a starship of unique design …

Mara was watching him. “Assuming you weren’t gazing at Ben from some other plane of existence, you’re going to be around to witness all those things.”

“So will you.”

“Was I part of the vision?”

In fact, Luke hadn’t seen Mara—not at first.

“Luke, promise me something,” Mara said before he could speak. “If anything happens to me—”

He tried to shush her, but she pushed his hand away.

“No, I need to say this. Promise me that if anything happens, you’ll love Ben with all your heart, and you’ll make him the center of your world, as he is to me.”

Luke pulled her into his arms. “ ‘Hush, my love, the night is mild and slumber smiles on you …’ ”

“Promise me, Luke.”

“I will—if you’ll make me the same promise.”

She nodded against his chest. “Then no matter what, the future’s assured.”

TWENTY

Nas Choka pushed through the living membrane that sealed the command grotto from prying eyes. A trio of Supreme Commanders and their subalterns trailed in the warmaster’s angry wake.

“Our course is now set,” he announced to his own subalterns and tacticians. “Supreme Overlord Shimrra will abide no further delay. We are enjoined to launch the armada in three local days, when the auguries are favorable for victory.”

“Three days, Fearsome One,” the tactician said when Nas Choka had dropped cross-legged onto his yorik coral bench.

“The burden is mine,” Nas Choka replied abruptly. “Don’t add to it by echoing my words. Tender your report.”

The tactician inclined his head in a bow of respect. “Rumors teem like an infestation of sacworms. From all sectors comes word of heightened enemy activity. Ships masquerading as spice carriers leave Hutt space, but as often as not they are empty. The same holds true in Bothan space. There is increased traffic within the Hapan Cluster, with many ships inbound from Kashyyyk and from the more distant Remnant. Known operatives and agents consort clandestinely on Corellia and Bimmisaari. Courier ships of the Smugglers’ Alliance arrive and depart Contruum, with a few venturing as close to Yuuzhan’tar as Corulag.”

“Sheer impudence,” Nas Choka said. “But much like the diversionary raids at Gyndine and Duro that preceded the clash at Ebaq Nine.” He fell briefly silent, then said, “Proceed.”

“As instructed, our agents made no attempts to interfere or provide the slightest signs of suspicion.”

“And at Mon Calamari?”

“Almost half the fleet has departed. Many capital ships have returned to their home sectors. Others have been traveling in and out of darkspace. Still others have been deployed as substitutes for the transceiving devices our dovin basals engulfed.”

Nas Choka rose from the bench to regard what now amounted to an entire wall of blaze bug displays. “My long tenure in Hutt space was well spent,” he said after a long moment. “I was forced to