"I'd love to be some kind of diplomatic envoy."

Her eyes sparkled.

"I'll tell you a secret: One day I want to have a seat on the Advisory Council, alongside Luke, Kyp, Cilghal, and the others. Maybe then we can think about something more permanent."

Jag smiled broadly.

"Then our paths may just cross again sooner than you imagine."

She looked at him askance.

"I don't think I'll be getting to Chiss s.p.a.ce anytime soon, Jag."

"You won't have to. I've been appointed by the CEDF as liaison to the Alliance."

"You-a diplomat?"

"I can be very diplomatic when I need to be."

"Oh, I know that, all right. But-"

"Just think about it: the two of us rendezvousing on fabulous worlds, from one side of the galaxy to the other."

Jaina's eyes narrowed in delight.

"You know, that doesn't sound half bad."

Gently, he pulled her back into his arms and lowered his voice.

"I'll work hard at making our encounters nothing short of wonderful."

Jaina laughed.

"Maybe there is a touch of scoundrel in you, after all."

They kissed pa.s.sionately, while the snow continued to fall.

"Five years ago, at the signing of the accord between the Imperial Sector and the New Republic, we met aboard your ship, Captain Solo and Princess Leia," Gilad Pellaeon said. "Now I have the honor of your being aboard my vessel at the start of a new era."

"We're the ones who are honored, Admiral," Leia said.

White-haired and mustachioed Pellaeon was attired in a pure white uniform, and Leia and Han were wearing the best of the few outfits they had left to their names. The three of them were in the Grand Admiral's s.p.a.cious and elegantly appointed quarters, on the starboard side of Right to Rule's command tower. Beneath the viewport an exquisitely carved table was spread with bowls of food and flasks of fine liquor. In stationary orbit above Coruscant, the flagship of the Imperial fleet was central to a group of other Star Destroyers, which themselves comprised only a part of the Alliance flotilla that remained in deep-s.p.a.ce anchor.

The Falcon-with Cakhmaim and Meewalh inside-sat conspicuously in the docking bay of the huge vessel, amid TIE defenders and bombers.

"When do you plan to return to Bastion s.p.a.ce?" Han asked, sipping from his drink.

"Within a standard day, Captain. Which is why I was pleased to learn that you were available to visit with me on such short notice."

"Eager to get back to your garden?" Leia asked.

"If time permits. I will have much to do, convincing some of the Moffs of the wisdom of partic.i.p.ating openly in the Alliance. I never took the time to marry and raise a family. But I have my garden, and I tend to that as I might have my children. I may even allow a bit of randomness, a bit of 'nature' to enter, and stay my hand from culling the weak and unfit from the rows."

Han laughed shortly.

"A little disorder never hurt."

"It certainly never seemed to hurt you, Captain Solo."

"That's only 'cause turmoil and me reached an accord a long time ago."

"Well, perhaps I'll attempt to do the same." Pellaeon moved to the viewport that looked out on Coruscant. "In any event, I never realized how much I missed the Core-and Coruscant in particular. Returning here after so long a time, even under such circ.u.mstances, has made me reflect on my career, and on all the events that have ensued since the Battle of Endor." He turned from the view to look at Han and Leia. "I feel that you have been instrumental in giving me back something I had lost, and I want to do the same for you."

Leia smiled graciously.

"That's really not necessary, Admiral."

Pellaeon waved his hand in dismissal.

"It's just a little something."

Lifting a remote control from the table, he aimed the device at a screen, which folded against the cabin's inner bulkhead to reveal the object he had been saving as a surprise. It was a moss-painting by the late Alderaanian artist Ob Khaddor, depicting a tempestuous sky sweeping over a city of pinnacles and, in the foreground a line of insectoid figures, representing the vanished species that had inhabited Alderaan prior to human colonization. Leia stared, speechless.

"And we thought you just wanted to give us another hypers.p.a.ce comm antenna," Han said in astonishment.

Killik Twilight had once hung outside Leia's bedroom in House Organa on Alderaan. At the time of the planet's destruction by the Death Star, the moss-painting had been presumed destroyed, but in fact it had been returning to Alderaan as part of a traveling museum exhibit. Hidden within the painting's moisture-control apparatus was the key to a vital Rebel Alliance spy code, which had continued to be used in the post-Galactic Civil War years to communicate with agents deep inside Imperial-held territory. Four years after the Battle of Endor, when the painting had suddenly surfaced and been put up for auction on Tatooine, Han and Leia-recently married-had attempted to retrieve it. After changing hands several times, however, Ob Khaddor's apocryphal work had ended up aboard the Chimaera, in the possession of none other than Grand Admiral Thrawn, whose collection of priceless artworks was already extensive. Aside from being an emotional link to Leia's childhood with her adoptive parents, the painting had added significance for both her and Han. Khaddor's execution of the Killiks left their reaction to the approaching darkness open to interpretation.

Where Leia had seen the Killiks as running from the darkness, Han saw the insectoid race as turning toward the storm. He had interpreted the painting as an admonition that darkness could be defeated by meeting it squarely and shattering it with light, and when Leia had ultimately accepted Han's view, it had allowed her to reconcile her ongoing confliction over the fact that Anakin Skywalker, her actual father, and Darth Vader had been one and the same person.

In turn, the reconciliation had allowed her to emerge from the shadow of the Sith Lord, and decide to have children.

"Gilad," Leia said at last, "I can't tell you how much this means to me."

Pellaeon smiled.

"It is one of the few pieces of Thrawn's collection that survived, and I thought that you of all people should have it."

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 s.p.a.ce 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 c.o.c.kpit, 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 pa.s.sed 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 s.p.a.ceport, 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 c.o.c.kpit'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.

"Good-bye, Luke," they said in unison. "Good-bye, Mara. Good-bye, 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 gla.s.s. Instinctively Luke reached out to grab hold of the console.

She's leaving, a familiar voice said.

"She's leaving," he repeated aloud.

"'She?'" Mara said.

Luke looked at her.

"Obi-Wan's words, not mine."

The stars around Zonama Sekot's circ.u.mference appeared to withdraw, then rebound. An enduring melancholy settled over Luke like a shroud, and he experienced a sudden and profound void in the Force. A wail from Ben brought him back to himself.

The child was struggling in Mara's arms, stretching out toward the viewport, as if to reach for the vanishing planet itself.

"Don't cry, sweetie," Mara comforted him. "We'll visit someday."

Luke stroked his son's head and glanced at Mara.

"He's meant to be there."

One of a handful of worlds along the Rimward edge of the invasion corridor to have survived attack or occupation, the Wookiee homeworld of Kashyyyk looked even more lush now than it had before the war began. Many of its tall, furred denizens had served in the war as soldiers, technicians, and couriers, but most had returned to their festive planet, and had been rejoicing almost continuously since Zonama Sekot had carried the frightful enemy from known s.p.a.ce.

Millennium Falcon and Jade Shadow had arrived only the previous day and sat side by side on landing platform Thiss, the fire-blackened stump of an enormous wroshyr tree, close to the village of Rwookrrorro. Having pa.s.sed the night in the treetop community, the Solos and the Skywalkers, along with their faithful droids, had trekked to the ma.s.sive fallen branch where a memorial for Chewbacca had been held several years earlier, though not to the day.

Accompanying them were many of the Wookiees who had attended the somber remembrance, including Chewie's father, Attichitcuk; his sister, auburn-furred Kallabow; his widow, Mallatobuck, and their son, Waroo; Ralrra, who could speak Basic; and Dewlannamapia, Gorrlyn, Jowdrrl, and Dryanta. As on that day, fog swirled in the upper branches of the giant trees, and a cool wind stirred the leaves and kshyy vines. In homage to the late Chewbacca, a celebrated Wookiee artisan had carved a portrait of Chewie into the trunk of one of the trees that supported the fallen branch. Han stood before the likeness, speaking as if directly to his former first mate and closest friend.

"You can relax now, pal," he was saying. "It's finally over. We fought the good fight and won, and, for me anyway, it was you who set the tone. Your sacrifice at Sernpidal was symbolic of the whole war, with millions giving their lives to save family, friends, people they didn't know, members of species they'd never seen before, even droids. Thank you, for that, Chewie, and for giving Anakin the extra time he needed to fulfill his own destiny. I'll never forget you."

Tears running down his cheeks, he turned to Luke, who had brought something that had been discovered by a demolition crew near the remains of the Citadel, on Coruscant. It was Anakin's lightsaber, which Tahiri had dropped while helping carry Luke to the Falcon. Han and Leia hadn't planned to leave the lightsaber with Chewie, until the moment when the Falcon had put down on Thiss. Hefting the hilt, Han looked at gray-muzzled Ralrra.