In the palatial suite called simply The Presidential by the hyperattentive staff of the stately Corusca on Fellowship, everything was done on a grandiose scale. Jaina was lounging next to Jag on a hover-sofa that could have seated an entire fighter squadron with support staff. Her feet were propped on a table the size of a small landing platform, and she was watching a vidscreen that would have no problem showing life-sized images of a StealthX. Currently, the screen was filled with the wrinkled, Wookiee-sized snout of Perre Needmo, snuffling up and down as his giant gray lips read the news.

“… remains uncertain who fired on the Millennium Falcon,” the Chevin was reporting. “Galactic Alliance military spokesbeings categorically deny responsibility. However, the detonation was witnessed by thousands of civilian sensor operators. And several ChaseX fighter craft from the Nargi-class pursuit frigate Fast Death were in the vicinity at the time. Chief Daala’s office has declined to comment.”

Jaina muted the sound, then smiled over at Jag. “I’m beginning to see why Dad enjoys this guy so much,” she said. “He has a way of getting to the truth despite the cover-ups.”

Jag allowed himself a rare smile. “Or at least a version that your father finds palatable.” He paused, then asked, “Were there any casualties?”

Jaina shook her head. “Not on our side, at least,” she said. “The Falcon and the Gizer Gut made their rendezvous as scheduled. They ought to be leaving for the Transitory Mists anytime now.”

“Good.” Jag’s expression was one of relief, but his Force aura remained troubled. “Then you’ve actually heard from your father?”

Jaina shook her head. “No, the message was from Mom.” She poked him playfully in the ribs. “But don’t worry. Dad will come around.”

Jag looked doubtful, but before Jaina could reassure him, the suite’s resident valet droid whirred into the room on his repulsorlift.

“Please forgive the intrusion, Head of State Fel,” the droid said. “Our staff has just received advance notice about Javis Tyrr Presents. There will be a news item concerning you and Jedi Solo, and I assumed you would want to see it.”

Jaina closed her eyes and groaned, “What now?”

“I’m sorry, Jedi Solo.” Taking Jaina’s question for a request, the droid used its built-in controls to switch programs. “I’m afraid we weren’t given details regarding the content.”

An instant later the handsome face of Javis Tyrr—obviously cosmetically enhanced—appeared on the vidwall, three times as large as life.

“… now for another Javis Tyrr exclusive,” he was saying, flashing his too-white teeth.

An image of Jaina and Jag, seated in the backseat of Jag’s crumpled limousine, appeared on the vidwall. Jaina immediately had a sinking feeling, and she felt Jag’s entire being tense.

“Here’s a little clip of what passes between everyone’s favorite couple when they have a little alone time,” Tyrr continued. “How do we do it? I can’t tell you that, my friends, but I can say you’re going to find this little gem very interesting.”

The image drew in for a close-up of Jaina frowning as she demanded to know what Jag was trying to hide from her.

On the couch in the hotel suite, Jaina turned to face Jag. “I don’t know what to say,” she began. “I’m so—”

“Hold on,” Jag said, turning to the valet droid. “VeeTen, will you please turn that off?”

The vidwall went instantly blank. “Of course, sir.”

“Now, please excuse us,” Jag said. “And inform the staff that I won’t be needing to see any more of Javis Tyrr’s reports.”

“Very good, sir.” The valet droid tipped its body forward in a bow, then added, “If I did something to upset you or Jedi Solo, you have my deepest apologies.”

“We’ll be fine,” Jag said. “Thank you.”

As the droid whirred out of the room, Jaina let her chin drop. “Jag, I am so sorry,” she said. “Tyrr must have been downloading data from that parasite droid the whole time he was walking down—”

“Jaina, stop.” He slipped a finger beneath her chin and coaxed her into raising it. “You didn’t put the spy in my limo, and it’s going to be okay.”

“Okay? How can you think that is going to be okay?” Jaina pointed at the vidwall. “If you had ever been a Jedi young one at Shelter, I would think you were going barvy, too!”

Jag appeared completely unruffled. “It’s not a problem. We’re going to be okay.” He fluttered a dismissive hand toward the vidwall. “That is just politics. And I’m not going to let a little thing like politics come between us.”

He pulled her closer and kissed her gently, then added, “I’m not going to let anything come between us.”

Jaina’s eyes remained open. “Promise?” she asked.

Jag nodded. “I promise.”

“Well, then.” Jaina closed her eyes and leaned forward to kiss him. “I promise, too.”

Lying unconscious in the Shadow’s medbay, Luke Skywalker looked more dead than alive. He was only half bathed and still stained with blood. But the wounds would heal, Ben knew, and the strength would return after a few good meals. What Ben wasn’t so sure about was the always hopeful spirit. When he did the math, he realized his father had spent weeks beyond shadows. And that didn’t seem like an experience anyone could recover from quickly—maybe not ever.

Ben had spent only a few days beyond shadows himself, and the brief visit still weighed on him like a sack of rocks on a three-kilometer swim. It wasn’t all bad, of course. He had been happy to meet Anakin in the Lake of Apparitions, and deeply grateful for the chance to speak with his mother one last time. And with every fiber of his being, he intended to honor the promises he had made to her.

But as for seeing Jacen … how sad it had been to discover him so alone and so lost—not bitter, but completely aware of the monster he had become. Jacen understood the harm he had caused so many, the anguish he had inflicted on the ones who had loved him most. And the thing that really got to Ben—the thing Ben knew would bother him for the rest of his life—was how accepting Jacen had been of it all. Jacen had seemed almost smug about it, as though all of the suffering he had inflicted on himself and others had been the necessary cost of pursuing some far greater end.

And yet … it had been Jacen who had finally scared Ben back to his senses, who had finally saved both Skywalkers by convincing them they could go no farther without losing all they had come to save. There was a deeper truth buried in there somewhere, Ben realized, but it would probably remain forever just beyond his grasp.

Ben sensed a stirring in the Force, and he glanced down to find his father’s blue eyes studying him intently.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that, Dad,” Ben said. “It’s kind of creepy.”

“What?” Luke asked. “Me trying to be available when my son needs guidance?”

“Not that,” Ben said. “Always knowing.”

“Sorry.” A familiar Skywalker smile crept across Luke’s lips, and Ben’s heart immediately felt a thousand kilos lighter. “I can’t help it. Sort of comes with the territory.”

“Yeah.” Ben sighed. After a pause, he asked, “Hey, as long as you’re awake, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“What are we still doing here, hanging out in the Maw, when we’re completely out of food and medicine?”

“Naw—I already figured that one out.” Ben traced a finger along the cut across his father’s nose and cheek. “You put a blood trail on that Sith girl. We’re just waiting for her to get her act together and leave Sinkhole Station, so we can follow her.”

Again, Luke smiled. “Well, then, it seems you have all the answers.”

“Not all of them,” Ben said, shaking his head. “There’s one question that’s really been bugging me.”

Luke’s expression grew serious. “You can always ask.”

“I know,” Ben said. He took a deep breath. “When Jacen asked what you had seen on the Throne of Balance …”

“I remember,” Luke said. “I told him that I’d seen Allana, surrounded by friends from all species.”

“Right …,” Ben said. “And then you asked Jacen what he had seen.”

Luke nodded. “I remember. He told me it wasn’t me.” His gaze grew distant, and he looked away. “I’m not entirely sure I believe him.”

“Because you know what he saw?” Ben asked.

“Because I know part of it,” Luke replied, continuing to look away. “Just enough to make me wonder.”

“Okay,” Ben said, “then here’s my question: what did Jacen see?”

Luke looked back to Ben. “What Jacen saw on the Throne of Balance doesn’t matter—not to you.” His smile returned, this time filled with equal parts sadness and hope. “And you know what’s really wonderful about that? It never will.”