The Grand Convocation Chamber of the New Republic Senate had been completed only three months earlier, its construction stepped up out of necessity after Kueller's bombs had weakened the structure of the old Senate Hall beyond repair. And while there were still bits of trim and scrollwork left to be finished, the overall effect was every bit as impressive as its designers had promised. The old arrangement-with the delegates' seats arranged in concentric semicircles, descending inward toward a raised dais-had been replaced by a series of variably sized, variably shaped blocks of seats, connected to each other by short stairways or ramps that had been arranged at apparent random, yet which maintained a consistent grace and style. Separating the seat groups were clear gla.s.s panels, or carved lattices, or merely short railings and a meter or two of vertical height, as the designers' fancy had taken them. Each block of seats had an un.o.bstructed view of the central dais, as' well as a display that could be adjusted to show either a closer view of the dais or any of the other blocks of seats in the chamber.

In many ways the place reminded Leia of the magnificent Corioline Marlee theater back on Alderaan, a renowned palace of the arts that had always been synonymous in her mind with courtesy, culture, and civilization. It had been her secret hope that the Grand Chamber's similar design would help encourage those same qualities in the Senators who a.s.sembled there.

But for today, at least, that was clearly not going to be the case.

"Let me be certain I understand you, President Gavrisom," a rough Opquis voice called over the chamber's sound system. "You're telling us that the Bothans were the key to the destruction of Caamas and the near genocide committed against the Caamasi people. Yet at the same time you tell us you will not seek justice for this heinous act?"

"That is not at all what I have told you, Senator," President Ponc Gavrisom said mildly, twitching his tail once and resettling it against his hind legs. "Allow me to repeat. A small group-a small group-of as yet unidentified Bothans were involved in that tragedy. If and when we are able to learn their names, we will certainly dispense in full measure the justice I know we all seek. Until then, though, it simply cannot be done."

Why not?" an alien with s.h.a.ggy blue-green hair and a long, thin face demanded. A Forshul, Leia tentatively identified her, representing the eighty-seven inhabited worlds of Yminis sector in the Outer Rim. "Councilor Fey'lya does not deny Bothans were involved. Very well, then: let them be duly punished for this monstrous blot on galactic civilization."

Leia glanced across the dais at Borsk Fey'lya, seated at the far end of the curved row of High Councilors. The Bothan's expression and fur were under rigid control, but her Jedi senses had no trouble picking up the turmoil of anxiety behind his face. He'd had, she knew, a long conversation with the heads of the Combined Clans back on Bothawui just prior to this meeting. From the hardness of his expression, she guessed the conversation hadn't gone well .

"I understand your feelings, Senator," Gavrisom said. "However, I must point out that the legal guidelines of the New Republic are not the same as the traditional codes of Forshuliri justice." He unfolded his wings from across his long back and brought them in front of him. The prehensile feathertips touched one of the keys on the lectern, and a section of New Republic criminal law appeared on the display above his head. "Those guidelines do not allow us to penalize the entire Bothan people for the crimes of a few."

"And why do we not know the ident.i.ties of those supposed few?" the Ishori Senator called out. "I see Councilor Fey'lya seated to your right. What has he to say about all this?"

Gavrisom turned his head to look over his withers at Fey'lya. "Councilor Fey'lya, do you wish to respond?" m mm Visibly bracing himself, the Bothan rose to his feet. "I understand the anger this revelation has elicited from many of you," he said. "I a.s.sure you that we of the Bothan clan leadership feel the same anger, and the same desire that the perpetrators of this terrible crime be brought to justice. And rest a.s.sured that if we knew exactly who those perpetrators were, we would long ago have dealt with them. The problem is that we do not."

There was a short, warbling scream. Reflexively, Leia jumped, belatedly identified the blood-chilling sound as the Ayrou equivalent of a skeptical snort. "Do you expect us to believe-?"

"President Gavrisom, I would ask you to once again remind the Senator from Moddell sector to shut up that noise!" another Senator interrupted angrily. "The harmonics have already caused me to lose two eggs this session, and if I cannot bear my yearly hatchlings on schedule, I will lose both my status and any possibility of reappointment by my sector a.s.sembly."

"Speaking for myself, that would be a relief," someone else put in before Gavrisom could respond. "Some of us are exceptionally tired of your precious eggs being used as an excuse for everything you don't like&mdash"

Gavrisom's wingtips touched a key, and the voice was cut off as the sound system shut down. For another minute angry voices continued to be heard, echoing indistinctly from various quarters of the chamber, before finally falling reluctantly silent as the partic.i.p.ants realized that none of their verbal jabs was getting through to the designated recipients. Gavrisom waited another few seconds before turning the sound system back on.

"The prologue to the New Republic charter," he said quietly, "exhorts all member worlds to behave toward one another in an acceptable and civilized manner. Shall the members of this Senate be held to a lesser standard?"

"You speak of civilization, President Gavrisom," a tall Bagmim said darkly. "How can we of the New Republic Senate consider ourselves civilized if we do not show our repugnance for the horrible crime committed against the Caamasi?"

Leia cleared her throat. "May I remind the Senate," she said, "that whatever part any group of Bothans might have played, there is no indication any of them partic.i.p.ated in the actual destruction of Caamas. That, it seems to me, should be the focal point of our outrage and justice."

"Do you seek then to excuse the Bothans?" a Senator she didn't recognize demanded.

"Besides which, the actual perpetrators were undoubtedly agents of then Senator Palpatine," someone else added from the opposite side of the chamber. "All such agents have surely been destroyed during our onerously long war against the Empire."

"Are you certain of that?" another voice chimed in. "We are still learning the full depth of Emperor Palpatine's deceptions against the peoples of the galaxy. Who is to say his agents don't yet walk among us?"

"Are you accusing one of us?"

"If you claim the t.i.tle, what is that to me?" the other shot back. "There are still rumors of Imperial agents scattered among us&mdash"

Again Gavrisom touched the cutoff switch, and again the debate was reduced to distant voices shouting uselessly at each other. Leia listened, to the budding argument fade away, for the umpteenth time thanking the Force that she was at least temporarily no longer the one in charge of this madhouse.

The voices faded away into a tense silence. Gavrisom touched the key again. "I'm sure the Senator from Chorlian sector was speaking only figuratively," he said with his usual unflappable poise. "At any rate, this debate has already pa.s.sed the point of usefulness and will therefore be suspended for now. If the doc.u.ment which Councilor Organa Solo brought back can be reconstructed to the point where names can be discovered, we will reopen the discussion. Until then, there are many other matters which require our attention."

He glanced at his display, then looked up to his right. "We will begin with the report of the Economics Committee. Senator Quedlifu?"

The Economics Committee report was longer than usual, with two bills being submitted to the full Senate for consideration. That in itself was fairly unusual: with each Senator limited to introducing one bill per year, and a straight up-down vote required to get that bill out of committee, most of the proposed legislation never found the support necessary to make it to the full Senate. Only a small fraction of those few, moreover, ever survived the Senate's scrutiny to actually become law.

Which was precisely how the system was supposed to work. With nearly a thousand Senators already-and with each one representing fifty to two hundred entire worlds-there was no possible way Coruscant could truly look after the interests of all the beings making up the New Republic. This latest modification of the Senate had reduced its role to little more than providing for the common defense and mediating disputes between member sectors.

The more commonplace day-to-day governing was handled at the sector, system, planetary, regional, district, and local levels.

A few of the Senators, remembering the glory days of the Old Republic, occasionally grumbled about the Senate being reduced to what they saw as little more than an elaborate debating society. For the majority, though, the more vivid memory was that of Coruscant's domination during the dark days of the. Empire. A relatively weak central government was exactly what they wanted.

As it turned out, the Economics Committee was the only one with any bills to introduce or, for that matter, anything really new to report. Gavrisom cycled through the rest of the committees with practiced ease and dispatch, bringing the meeting to a close less than two hours after it had begun.

And yet, even as Leia joined the flow of beings exiting from the chamber, she suspected that none of the Senators or High Councilors would be occupied with business as usual this afternoon. Caamas would be the thought on everyone's mind. Caamas, and justice.

Or perhaps vengeance.

"Your Highness?" a tentative voice called through the rumble of conversation.

Leia paused and lifted a hand. "Over here, Threepio."

"Ah," the droid said, making his tentative way across the traffic flow toward her. "I trust the a.s.sembly went well?"

"As well as can be expected, under the circ.u.mstances," Leia told him. "Any messages from the techs about the datacard?"

"I'm afraid not," Threepio said, sounding regretful. "But I do have a message from Captain Solo. He has returned, and will be waiting for you."

Leia felt her heartbeat pick up. "Did he say anything about his mission to Iphigin?"

"I'm afraid not," Threepio apologized again. "Should I have asked him?"

"No, that's all right," Leia a.s.sured him.

"He did not seem inclined to be overly conversational," the droid mused. "He may not have answered even if I had asked."

Leia smiled. "Probably not," she agreed, a hundred fond memories of her husband flashing through her mind. She'd been planning to head straight to her office to sift through some of the mountain of datawork waiting on her desk. Now, suddenly, she decided it could wait.

Han would be waiting for her in their quarters&mdash "Councilor Organa Solo?" a voice said from her side.

Leia turned, a sinking feeling settling into her. The voice and mental profile&mdash And she was right. It was indeed Ghic Dx'ono, the Ishori Senator. "Yes, Senator Dx'ono?"

"I would speak with you, High Councilor," the other said firmly. "In your office. Now."

"Certainly," Leia said, her feeling sinking a little further. The alien's emotions indicated disquietude, but that was all she could read from it. "Come with me."

Together they made their way across the flow of beings, Threepio struggling to keep up, and into the curved side corridor where the members of the High Council had their offices.

Leia caught a glimpse of Fey'lya as he disappeared into his office; then they rounded the curve&mdash Leia stopped short, a soft gasp escaping her lips before she could stop it. Preoccupied with her thoughts, and with Dx'ono's somewhat overpowering presence beside her, she hadn't extended her senses ahead down the corridor. Three people were standing outside her office door: one of Dx'ono's aides, and two slender beings completely shrouded in hooded cloaks.

"They wish to speak with you," Dx'ono said gruffly. "Will you speak with them?"

Leia swallowed, her memories flashing back to her childhood on Alderaan and the time her adoptive father Bail Organa had permitted her to go with him on a private trip to the South Islands . . .

"Yes," she told Dx'ono quietly. "I will be honored to speak with your Caamasi friends."

The way Senate meetings usually went, Han had expected to be stuck hanging around Leia's office for at least another hour before she returned. It was therefore to his mild surprise that he'd barely gotten comfortable in his wife's inner office when a flicker of displaced air pressure announced that the door from the outer office had just opened.

He swiveled his feet off the corner of her desk and landed them quietly on the floor, getting up just as quietly from her chair and padding his way to the door that separated the sections of the office. In the old days, he would have tried to surprise her by jumping out and giving her a big hug and kiss. But her increasing Jedi skills had long since made trying to sneak up on her a pretty futile exercise.

Besides which, embarra.s.sing her with some silly schoolkid prank would make her madder at him than she probably already was over the Iphigin thing. Especially if she'd brought company with her.

She had. With his ear pressed against the door, he could hear at least two other voices besides Leia's.

For a moment he stood there, waiting to see if she would either bring her visitors in or else invite him out to greet them. She certainly knew by now that he was in here. Unless she'd rather he keep out of sight completely . . .

And then, across the room at her desk, the intercom display abruptly came on.

"-understand that we have no desire to make trouble for anyone," someone was saying. We do not wish vengeance, and it is far too late for justice."

Frowning, Han crossed back to the desk. So okay. Leia wanted him to listen in on the conversation, but didn't want him out there. Or didn't want whoever it was knowing they were being listened to.

And then he got his first close look at the display, and suddenly he understood her reticence. There were two Ishori out there . . . and two Caamasi.

"It is not a question of vengeance," one of the Ishori insisted. Probably a full Senator, Han decided, if the elaborate tangle of his shoulder clasp was any indication. "And it is never too late for justice."

"Yet what purpose would this so-named justice serve?" one of the Caamasi countered quietly. "Our world is destroyed, and we are few and scattered. Would punishing the Bothans miraculously make all right again?"

"Perhaps it would," the Ishori said, his voice starting to rise. Thinking hard and fast, with that trademark Ishori anger coming along with it. Han grimaced, the memory of his botched negotiation attempts at Iphigin nagging painfully at him. "If the Bothans were declared guilty and forced to make reparations-"

At the other side of the board, the comm pinged. Leia's private comm channel, Han noted with annoyance. Just when the conversation out there was starting to get interesting; but it was probably one of the kids, and he really ought to answer it. Flicking the intercom channel to record the rest of the conversation going on out there-which was probably illegal, but he didn't care-he muted the speaker volume and hit the comm key.

It wasn't the kids, or Winter, or even one of the Noghri. "h.e.l.lo, Solo," Talon Karrde said. "I didn't expect to find you on this channel."

"Likewise," Han said, frowning at the smuggler. "How did you get this frequency?"

"Your wife gave it to me, of course," Karrde said, managing to look roguish and innocent at the same time. "I gave her a ride back here from Wayland in the Wild Karrde. I thought you knew."

"Yeah, I got a quick message from her about that," Han said. "I didn't know you'd conned her out of her private frequency, though."

Karrde smiled, then sobered. "We're all suddenly sitting on some highly explosive matters, my friend," he said. "Leia and I decided it might be useful for me to be able to contact her, shall we say, discreetly. Has she told you yet about the Caamas datacard we brought back from Wayland?"

Han's eyes flicked to the intercom display and the two Caamasi. "No, I haven't had a chance to talk to her since I got back," he said. "But as it happens she's got a pair of Caamasi in the outer office right now. Along with a couple of Ishori."

Karrde hissed softly between his teeth. "So the Ishori are getting involved. Which means the Diamala will undoubtedly be coming in on the other side."

"Oh, undoubtedly," Han agreed. "The other side of what?"

"I don't suppose it's much of a secret anymore," Karrde said. "At least not on the exalted levels you circle in these days. I'm sure Leia will fill you in later, but the bottom line is that we've discovered it was a group of so far unidentified Bothans who sabotaged Caamas's shields on the eve of its destruction."

Han felt his stomach tighten. "Great," he growled. "Just great. There aren't enough people out there who hate the Bothans already. This is just what we need."

"I agree," Karrde said. "I hope the Senate is up to the task of keeping this under some semblance of control. The main reason I called was to tell Leia that our friend Mazzic has caught Lak Jit, the Devaronian who actually found the datacard. We've got him locked away, and I'll keep him there as long as she wants me to. Unfortunately, it appears he's already spread the news as far as his little feet and the flow of credits would take it. I don't think there's any chance of keeping this a private matter within the New Republic hierarchy."

"Yeah, well, things were going along too smooth anyway," Han said sourly. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Karrde said blandly. "You know I'm always at your service."

"That's good," Han said. "Because I've got another problem I'd like you to tackle."

"Certainly. Cash or account?"

"We had a little run-in with some pirates off Iphigin," Han said, ignoring the question.

"Good-sized crowd: they had a Kaloth battlecruiser, a couple of Corellian gunships, and some Corsair starfighters."

"Well-equipped group," Karrde agreed. "On the other hand, you'd be a fool to hit a place like Iphigin without enough firepower to handle the job."

"It still surprised me a little," Han said. "But here's the kicker. Luke says the battlecruiser had clones aboard."

Karrde's expression didn't change, but the lines at the corners of his eyes tightened noticeably. "Does he, now," he said. "Any idea what kind of clones?"

"He didn't say," Han said. "You ever hear of a pirate gang running with cloned crewers?"

"Not that I can recall," Karrde said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "My guess would be that they're leftovers from that big Imperial offensive ten years ago. Grand Admiral Thrawn had Mount Tantiss long enough to have turned out quite a lot of them."

"So what are they doing with a pirate gang?" Han persisted. "Don't you think that what's left of the Empire would want to keep them for themselves?"

"Point," Karrde conceded. "On the other hand, maybe they've decided it's more effective to hire them out to one or more gangs as advisers or elite warriors, Perhaps in exchange for a hand in choosing their targets, or else a share of the plunder."

"Could be," Han said. "It could also be that some pirate group's found its own supply of cloning cylinders."

Karrde's lip twitched. "Yes," he agreed grimly. "That could conceivably be the case."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

"I suppose I'd better look into it," Karrde said. "See what I can find out." He lifted an eyebrow slightly. "Cash or account?"

Han rolled his eyes. Every time he thought Karrde might actually be on the edge of doing something n.o.ble and self-sacrificing, the other always found a way to remind Han that his relationship with the New Republic was strictly professional. "I give up," he said.

"What's it going to take to bring you over to our side, anyway?"

"Oh, I don't know," Karrde said consideringly. What did it take to lure you away from the carefree life of an independent trader?"

Han made a face. "Leia," he said.

"Exactly," Karrde said dryly. "Now, if she had a sister-I don't suppose she does?"

"Not that I know of," Han said. "Though with the Skywalker family you never know."