"Okay, honey. Just checking. I'm on my way home with Jaina."

He shut the link and looked for another route home. There was no point chasing Ben and having another fight right now. The last time they'd spoken, Ben had seemed close to working things out for himself. Forcing a Jedi to do anything was always of questionable use, even if that Jedi was your little boy.

"You have to get Ben away from Jacen," said Jaina, unprompted.

"I know," Luke said. "I'm trying to get him to make that choice for himself. If I force it, I'll make Jacen a martyr in his eyes."

"Am I wrong to think this about my own brother?"

"What do your senses tell you?"

"That he's going to somehow break my heart one day."

"Yes," said Luke. "We need to make sure that never happens."

But it already has, he thought. It already has.

THE SOLOS' APARTMENT, CORONET, CORELLIA.

"You got to hand it to Gejjen," said Han. "He must have had all this planned."

Fett had already worked out a fast exit from the Solos' shabbily anonymous apartment. From the window he could see the red flashing lights of Corellian Security Force speeders racing across the city: when he checked his bank account-one of them, anyway-he was already one million credits better off. Gejjen certainly paid promptly.

Mirta gave Han a wary look. "Forget Gejjen. Call your son."

Leia Solo-and despite the decade that had pa.s.sed since he had last seen her, Fett had still recognized her immediately-had a comlink pressed to one ear. "I'm trying." She stared at the comlink in exasperation and then snapped it shut. "He's not answering. Let's try the Jedi way. That usually gets his attention."

She clasped her hands in front of her and closed her eyes for a moment. Fett didn't care for Jedi: they were an aristocracy, winners in a genetic lottery, and there was something about the lack of merit required that rankled with Mandalorians. But for all the lightsaber trophies he kept on display from Jedi bounties, Fett knew they had their uses.

All I care about now is seeing Ailyn. Corellia can burn for all I care.

"You doing some of that Jedi mind stuff?" Mirta demanded.

Leia opened her eyes and didn't look amused. "I'm reaching out to my son in the Force to make him realize I need to talk to him. He'll know it's me."

On the wall, a holoscreen showed a hara.s.sed-looking news anchor relaying the news that the President had been a.s.sa.s.sinated. The Deputy President, Vol Barad, suitably respectful, paid tribute to Sal-Solo and said that an emergency meeting had been called with leaders of all the political parties to "work out a way forward."

"First time he's been allowed out in public since Thrackan came to power," said Han. "He must think this is his lucky day."

"Come on, Jacen," Leia muttered.

Han, fixed on the holoscreen, snorted in contempt. "Oh, here's our little buddy now . .

Fett turned to see Dur Gejjen being interviewed. He was consummately calm and grim-faced, and spoke of his shock at the news. He was rather convincing: a dangerous young man, Fett decided, and one who'd have a fine political career. He'd eat Han Solo alive. Maybe Leia would be able to handle him.

"He's talking about a coalition government . . . ," Han muttered.

"Dividing the spoils," said Fett.

"Thrackan must have ticked off more people than I thought. I didn't realize even his own party hated him that much."

"Maybe they'll build a statue to you, Solo."

"Hey, it's your happy little partner who whacked him, pal."

Mirta had started pacing up and down the apartment, now watching both the doors and the windows. Leia opened her comlink. "Try again . .."

"Thrackan said there were still other a.s.sa.s.sins out there," Han said quietly.

Fett shrugged. "Not now they know he's dead."

"You sure?"

"If they're not going to get paid, why would they want to kill you?"

Han frowned slightly. "I suppose that's bounty hunter logic."

Fett wondered if he should point out to Han that he had more to fear from Gejjen and his cronies than from an honest hired killer, but Han should have been able to work that out for himself. Anyone who could hire a hit on a rival politician would have no compunction about doing the same to Han Solo.

Fett was glad he worked in a trade where the rules were nice and clear.

Then Leia said, "Jacen! Jacen, this is urgent-" and the room fell silent. Fett killed the audio on the holoscreen. Mirta stared at him, unfathomable. Listening to one side of the conversation was agonizing. What does she look like now? Is she married? Does she have a family? How will I get her to listen to me?

And what am I going to say to her?

"Jacen," said Leia. "Thrackan's dead ... don't ask ... no, ask your father about that . .

"Ailyn," Mirta interrupted. "Ask him about Ailyn."

Leia nodded emphatically. "Jacen, this is important. You said you arrested a bounty hunter called Ailyn Habuur. Your father did a deal about Thrackan . . . no, listen, Jacen, I need you to listen . . . now Thrackan's dead, the woman isn't a threat, and her father wants to see her very badly .

. . Jacen?"

Fett felt sweat beading on his top lip despite his helmet's environment controls.

"Jacen, repeat that . .

Leia's gaze fixed in mid-distance and then flickered as if she'd heard a reply she wasn't expecting.

"Jacen, her father is Boba Fett."

Whatever Jacen had said, Leia was having problems understanding it. She closed the comlink and ran one hand over her hair, not quite looking at him or Mirta.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know how to tell you this, but Ailyn Habuur died . . .

under interrogation."

No. No. I was going to talk to her. I was going to put things right-Fett told himself that he didn't care about anything or anybody, and that Ailyn was a stranger, but it was a lie.

The fact that he had last seen her as a baby and that she had tried to kill him didn't change a thing right then: she was his daughter. He was dying and he wanted to see her.

He reeled. He had no answer. He looked at Mirta Gev, and she stared back at him, and her face was stricken. There was no other word for it.

Then she leveled her blaster at him. Instinct made him reach for his, and the next thing he saw was a streak of white fire coming at him almost in slow motion, and Leia Solo reaching out both hands as if she could seize the very energy with them.

Mirta's blaster flew high in the air and clattered across the tiled floor.

Chapter Twenty.

Investigations are continuing into the a.s.sa.s.sination of President Sal-Solo, but we have reason to believe that this outrage was the work of Alliance agents. This will not weaken our resolve to maintain Corellia's independent military deterrent. Following an agreement among all parties, Corellia will now be governed by a coalition of the Democratic Alliance and the Corellian Liberal Front, which represent the largest bloc of representatives, with an advisory role for the Centerpoint Party.

-Statement from the new coalition administration of Corellia Leia stood between Mirta Gev and Boba Fett. Mirta fell back against the wall hard as if she'd been thrown against it. Leia stood over her, but the girl just stared past her at Fett, defiant but pinned down by the Force.

The air stank with the ozonic smell of a discharged blaster. Fett had his EE-3 trained on Mirta, but Han noticed that it was slowly lowering to his side.

"I want to know what all that was about," Leia said, as if Mirta were just a naughty kid who hadn't done her homework rather than a bounty hunter who'd tried to take a shot at Boba Fett.

Mirta's eyes brimmed. Han hadn't thought of her as the crying kind. Maybe it was a very big bounty she'd just lost.

"I was delivering him to her." She indicated Fett with a contemptuous jerk of her chin.

"She wanted to kill him for certain this time."

Fett didn't say a word. He slung his blaster rifle over his shoulder with a slow, deliberate movement and stood the way he often did, hands a little away from his sides, weight on one foot, as if he was going to whip out one of his astonishing array of weapons.

"But why shoot him? Now that she can't pay you, what's he-"

"He ran out on his wife and baby, that's why. Yes, the great Boba Fett didn't have the guts to stand by his family. He left her, and she had to bring up Ailyn on her own, and she died because he wasn't there being a proper husband and father. If ... she couldn't kill him, then I will."

Leia crouched over her. Tears were streaming down the lid's face now and Fett was absolutely still. "Why? What has he ever done to you?"

Mirta gulped in air, choking back sobs. Han resisted the urge to play dad and comfort her.

"Because she was my mother, and I promised her that he'd die, that's why. So he's my grandfather-in name, anyway." She rounded on him, scrambling to her feet. "You didn't know that, did you? You didn't know because you didn't care. You never even tried to find out what happened to Ailyn until now, and it's too kriffing late for us all. Fifty years-fifty years!"

Han would remember this for years to come and still not believe it. Fett's shoulders heaved visibly as if he was taking a deep breath. He still said nothing. It was a lousy way to be reunited with family; Han almost felt sorry for him.

Mirta stood staring into the mask of his helmet as if she could see the man behind it.

Then she punched both fists into his chest plate as hard as she could, face contorted with grief and rage, and knocked him back a couple of paces. He just took it. She punched as hard as she could, and Fett let her until Han saw that her knuckles were bleeding and he decided she'd had enough. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back.

Fett still hadn't said a word.

"Hey, c'mon . . . c'mon . . ." Han held Mirta until she stopped struggling. "It's okay, kid. It's okay. Take it easy." Her mother was dead. Okay, she was a contract killer, but that wasn't the girl's fault. He caught Leia's eye and could see that she was horrified.

Whatever Jacen had said that he hadn't heard had upset her. Maybe the detail was too graphic to share. "Fett, don't you have anything to say to this kid? She's your family."

"He's not!" Mirta snarled.

Fett simply turned to Han. His voice was as flat and unemotional as ever. "I want Ailyn back. I want her body."

"Leave that to me," said Leia. "We'll sort it out."

Han couldn't take it in. He'd had some bizarre days in his life, but this was getting near the top of the scale. "Sweetheart, you're placating Boba Fett ."

"His daughter just died."

"He didn't even know her."

"Han-"

"She was sent to kill us. You forgot that small detail?"

"Han, you remember when Anakin died?"

The reminder of his son's death stopped him in his tracks for a moment. The pain was as fresh as ever. "But we loved Anakin! We raised him! Fett didn't even-"

Leia held up her hand for silence. "Don't, Han. n.o.body knows what Fett feels or doesn't feel. And neither of us would be standing here now if he hadn't saved us from the Yuuzhan Vong. Okay?"

Leia's compa.s.sion always humbled Han, but he felt she was wasting it on Fett. She had a point, but she was being way too kind to a man who'd nearly killed him more than once.

But Fett had kept his word. Thrackan was dead, even if the girl had probably fired the fatal shot. And there were no more contracts out on the Solo family-as far as Fett knew, anyway.

Han patted Mirta's back. She was shaking now. He felt sorry for her, not Fett. "You two better sort yourselves out. Fast."

"He's all you've got, Mirta," Leia said quietly. "Trust me, however bad things are, your family is all you have in the end."

Don't get too c.o.c.ky about your diplomatic skills, honey, thought Han. Mirta might have been tear-streaked, but she also looked murderous. She'd killed one man tonight and she didn't look like she'd have any trouble making it two.

Han thought it was high time he and Leia worried about their own skins. Could they live on Corellia openly now? He picked up his comlink to call Dur Gejjen, but stopped as Fett suddenly took off his armor plates, chest and back, and dumped them on the chair. He held his arms at his sides.

"Pick up your blaster, Mirta Gev," he said. Leia moved as if to stop her. "No, let her do it."

And the kid did. She bent down and took the blaster in both hands and held it level, right hand grasping the grip, left cupped beneath to steady the shot, and aimed at Fett. She was deadly calm now.

Fett reached up slowly and lifted off his helmet.

He was gray and scarred and hard. It was the first time Han had ever seen his enemy's face. It was far less than he had imagined and all the more shocking for that. It was a face that was as unfeeling as a slab of rock. They said your life was etched in your face over time, and Fett's life must have been utterly cold, brutal, and alone.

"Go on," said Fett. He was staring straight at his granddaughter. "Do it."