Mirta kept chewing her lip. It was a very discreet habit, but Fett was alert to small detail. Hunters had to be.

"Where are we heading?"

"Corellia."

"You said Coruscant."

"No, you said Coruscant." Fett switched the navigation display to a three-D holochart so that she could see it shimmering above the console in front of the viewscreen. "I've got business in Corellia first."

She fell silent, and seeing as she hadn't said a great deal on the journey anyway, he wasn't shocked. But something had agitated her.

Maybe it was the messages she kept sending to Coruscant. Ailyn wasn't answering. Fett wondered when Mirta would work out that monitoring transmissions to and from Slave I-even those made via private comlinks-was part of the ship's security system. Maybe it was time to shake Mirta down a little.

"I've lost contact with my customer," Mirta said at last.

Points for honesty, then. "She might not want to pay up. Is it just the necklace, or did you have information for her?"

"Information, too."

"You weren't stupid enough to give her that data over the comlink, were you?"

"No."

"Then she'll pay up."

"I'm-I'm more worried about her safety. She was on a job."

I know. "Yeah, dead customers don't pay."

"Exactly." But Mira's voice sounded small and afraid for once. Maybe she wasn't quite the experienced bounty hunter she made herself out to be.

Fett decided that Ailyn was too sharp an operator to risk transmissions when she was hunting someone like Han Solo. She was his daughter, after all: some of his genes must have made her what she was. And few bounty hunters made enough credits to be able to afford Fett's line in secure communications kit.

She'd be there, somewhere.

He opened his own comlink. It didn't matter if Mirta heard this. "Beviin," he said.

"Beviin, I have a job I'd like to discuss with you."

It took awhile for Beviin to answer. "Mand'alor?"

"Beviin, Thrackan Sal-Solo wants us to fight for him. Defending Centerpoint Station."

"Yes, it's all over the news. He was on HNE this morning about rebuilding it yet again.

War's about to kick off. Solo's son is head of the Alliance's secret police and the Corellians are really a'denla about it-"

"a.s.semble as many commandos as you can. Meet me on Drall in two days at Halin's Bar."

"It closed down five years ago. Try the Zerria. Same street."

I'm out of touch. Too much time on Taris. "Okay, make it the Zerria."

"I can probably get half a dozen together by then. Almost everyone else has headed back to Mandalore."

Six? Six! Too busy to do their duty? "Why?"

"It's harvest time. Quite a few of us have farms."

"Aren't the women supposed to look after that?" Beviin had an adopted daughter. Fett couldn't recall her name, but he was sure she was old enough to run a farm. "What happened to the rapid response force?"

Beviin's voice chilled perceptibly. "If there was a real war on, we'd be pretty rapid ..."

Fett was almost distracted by the idea of his Mandalorian troops doing something as ba.n.a.l as farming. He'd never thought much about what they did when they weren't deployed. But they had wives and children, and lives. "Whoever you can get in two days, then."

Fett closed the link. Mirta stared at him, clearly appalled. "So you disapprove of fighting for Corellia?"

She shrugged. "I was thinking that you don't know much about what's happening on your own world, considering you're supposed to be the Mandalore."

"I don't even live there."

"The Yuuzhan Vong hit the Mandalore sector as badly as anywhere, Fett." It was the first time she'd addressed him by name. "Everyone's still rebuilding. You know what your name means? 'Farmer.' Vhett. It's Mando'a for 'farmer.' "

"I know that." Dad came from Concord Dawn. He said his family were frontier farmers. How did he get a Mandalorian name, then? "I'm more of a blaster and jet pack man myself."

"How can you rule a nation when you don't know the first thing about it?"

"It's not a nation, and I don't run it. I'm a figurehead when they don't need me to fight, and a commander in chief when they do."

"A mercenary for your own people."

"The irony isn't lost on me."

"You're out of touch. More Mandalorians are heading back home."

Home. "There aren't that many. And what's home?"

"You've no idea how many Mando'ade there are, have you? Plenty. Not just your troops and bounty hunters. People who've kept their culture alive all across the galaxy. Just like your father was adopted by Jaster Mereel, the culture gets pa.s.sed on."

"You know a lot about me."

"More than you know about yourself, obviously." Mirta was actually angry. Fett could see the color in her cheeks. Her voice had tightened and raised a pitch. "My dad said a Mand'alor should be like a father to his people."

"I don't need a lecture in responsibilities from a kid."

"Well, your daughter wanted to kill you because you walked out on her and her mother, so I'll take it that responsibility isn't your strong suit."

Fett was used to fear, deference, or awe. He hadn't seen much defiance in his adult life-not for long, anyway. Mirta didn't seem to care if he dumped her out of the air lock.

My own kid. I had what Dad wanted so badly, and I threw it away.

"I was sixteen," he said. "Sintas was eighteen. The only females I knew as a kid were a Kaminoan and a changeling bounty hunter. Doesn't equip you to be a family man. I tried."

" Yea h. "

Fett never let himself get angry. To be angry, you had to care; and the only person he had ever cared about was his father.

But this girl had touched a nerve. "Maybe I'd have grown up a nice guy if a Jedi hadn't cut my dad's head off in front of me."

"It's hard to lose a parent."

"Where are yours?"

"Dad's dead."

"Mother?"

"Haven't seen her in a while."

"You'll grow up as bitter as me, girl."

"Already have," said Mirta. "Already have."

There was nothing more to say. He'd already said too much; and he had to warn Beviin not to mention that they all knew that Ailyn was hunting Han Solo. He laid in a course for Drall and wondered what he would say to Ailyn when he finally caught up with her.

For the first time in his life, he suspected it would be Sorry.

HIGH COUNCIL CHAMBER, JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT.

Luke knew events had reached the point where he could do nothing to pull the Alliance back from confrontation with Corellia; there was only damage limitation. A blockade was the least destructive option.

He had already decided not to press Cal Omas to step back from the brink. He wasn't even sure that Omas could do that if he wanted to. The Jedi council sat in a grim circle, as it must have done many times in the face of war over the millennia, and seemed to look to him for an answer.

Corran Horn-Corellian, stubborn, unperturbed-was there. At least Jacen had the decency not to round up a senior Jedi Master in his purges.

"I think we've exhausted diplomacy," Luke said.

"A blockade is simply going to rally other worlds to Corellia's cause," said Horn. "And don't think I'm saying that as wish fulfillment because I'm Corellian. I'm just reading the mood like everyone else."

"Attacking Corellia directly isn't going to achieve anything different. And letting Corellia have its way is going to encourage every other government to follow suit."

"Then the only question is to ask what the role of the Jedi council is going to be in this."

"Same as it's always been," said Kyle Katarn. "Looking for a peaceful solution, but ready to fight for the Alliance if called upon."

Cilghal interrupted. "With respect, Master Skywalker, there is a question we all appear to be unwilling to mention."

"Which is?"

"The actions of Jacen Solo."

Luke avoided Mara's eye. She was sitting to one side, staring intently at her datapad on the table in front of her, and she didn't use her standing as secretary of the council to ask Cilghal to table the question formally. Mara had never been one for slavish adherence to procedure.

"If you want to raise that, let's be specific." Luke fought down a reflex to turn to Mara and say, See? They noticed it, too! He knew perfectly well what he saw. The only reason he wasn't doing something about it was his own family interests, his own need for peace with Ben and Mara. And that's not good enough. "I think we've all noted the prominence of Jacen in events involving the Corellian community."

"Since you're frank enough to say so, then may I ask if you have misgivings about a Jedi being seen to act against civilians like this?" Cilghal squirmed visibly, but Luke admired her courage for confronting him when n.o.body else seemed willing to point out that his nephew was behaving badly by Jedi standards-by any standards. "With your own son accompanying him?"

I'm the Grand Master. I have a duty. Sorry, Mara.

"I'm deeply troubled by it."

There was a collective intake of breath.

"Is that it?" said Kyp Durron.

"I have no control over Jacen. He exists outside the Jedi order, and he isn't Ben's Master, and Ben is not his apprentice."

Luke could feel-and see-eleven pairs of eyes turning to Mara. Luke knew it was unfair to expose a family argument to high council scrutiny, but this was no longer just a couple disagreeing over their child's education. Jacen is turning dark. I have to have the courage of my convictions.

Mara looked up and her expression was set like permacrete in neutral calm. "I'm not sure if I should take part in this discussion. I have to declare an interest."

"Let's put this another way," said Katarn. "It's an embarra.s.sment for the Jedi order to see the son and nephew of the Grand Master kicking down doors with the boys in black."

"But you accept that the Galactic Alliance Guard is acting legally?"

"Unpalatably but legally, yes." Katarn and Cilghal had now formed up into a definite but respectful attack, as if they were relieved that they weren't imagining it all. "It's the involvement of Jedi in it that we're most uncomfortable with."

Ah. We. Luke was ripped apart at that moment: he had either to humiliate his wife or deceive the high council because of his own personal fears. It didn't matter that his word was law here. He knew he was on thin ice.

"I am, too," he said at last. "I'll be asking Ben to withdraw from operations with the Guard."

"He's thirteen," said Durron. "You should be telling him."

Mara said nothing, but Luke could feel her boiling inside. He knew what would happen when the meeting was over. But she had the grace not to argue with him in front of the high council.

"Jacen's clearly popular with the public," Durron added carefully. "And more than one of us in this chamber has gone to some extremes and come back okay, so maybe we should be making an effort to help him identify more with the order."

"Meaning?" said Luke.

"It's time he became a Master. We all know what he can do."

Luke had a sudden image of his father. His sense of dj vu was both comforting, because his father had been redeemed, and terrifying-terrifying because Vader had once been a Jedi prodigy, too, a decent young man, but the dark side had claimed him nonetheless. And it might well claim Jacen. Luke could taste it.

It's not frustration at not being a Master. He's gone dark. And he's not the only darkness I can feel.

Luke wondered why Lumiya had come back and knew it wasn't to see how much her old homeworld had changed since she'd been away.

But it wasn't the time to mention Lumiya. He turned his mind back to Jacen's status in the order.