The spectacular, unreal miracle that the others insisted on calling a skyhook was still the most impossibly wonderful thing that Kyp Durron had ever seen. After living most of his conscious life on Kessel, largely underground in total darkness or the dim artificial life of an under-maintenanced prison facility, the skyhook was beyond even his wildest dreams.
He stood at the edge of a massive ring that stretched for kilometers in diameter. The entire stretch of it was lined with transparisteel that allowed him to look down over the world below. The city—Coruscant—stretched to every horizon, gleaming and glittering, tiny moving lights of airspeeders flowing in every direction in endless lines of carefully controlled traffic. Higher he could see the larger lights of moving freighters and starships, rising and descending, all carefully giving the skyhook a wide berth. The skyhook's long tether stretched down and vanished below, securing the orbital platform high above the Imperial Palace.
He saw small reservoir lakes scattered around the planet, but few were large enough to be visible from near-orbit, with the kilometers-high towers shading them in darkness. Far to the west he could see the only remaining nature on the world: the rippling blue waters of the artificial Great Western Sea, Imperial City's primary reservoir and nature preserve, and the Manarai Mountains beyond, carefully preserved in the world's largest park.
The sun glared through the windows and he turned away, grimacing. Even with the protective lenses that Han had purchased for him, there were times the raw golden glare of that gleaming ball of fire was searing for his unaccustomed eyes.
"Hey kid," Han Solo said, resting his arm around Kyp's shoulders. "How're you doing?"
"Good," said Kyp honestly, offering him a smile. "How much longer are Leia and Winter going to be?"
"Oh, you know," Han said breezily, but Kyp could see the way the corners of his mouth tightened, and even more Kyp could feel the way Han's emotions darkened with annoyance and frustration—and the way Han took a breath and let those emotions reluctantly go. "They're meeting with Mon Mothma again. I know they've got Kerrithrarr and Fey'lya in there, and if I'm not mistaken I saw Jesnsaar SoBilles and Sian Tevv's ships in the hangar." He sighed. "This was supposed to be an unofficial meeting, but I think it's going to turn into a full council session."
Kyp knew all the names now. He heard Leia and Winter (and Han) discuss them near every night at their apartment in the Imperial Palace.
He'd been so sure that Han would just forget him after a while. That Coruscant would return Han's attention to more important things, like his twins or his wife or the Republic, that surely Kyp, a prisoner who had been left on Kessel as a child to grow old and die, would be beneath Han's notice. Be forgotten again. That feeling had only redoubled when Kyp had realized that Han and Leia were not just normal people. They were important people. They were perhaps even the most important.
But Han hadn't. And Leia hadn't. Kyp had moved into their apartment and had never left. Never been made to feel unwelcome. Han had started to teach him to cook and both had entrusted him with their children. And for the first time since his parents died Kyp felt truly, unconditionally loved.
"That sucks," he said.
Han laughed. "Yes it does." Around their feet ran Jacen and Jaina, with a confident pair of Noghri—not that much taller than the twins, really—keeping a watchful eye. Jacen placed both hands on the transparisteel, his nose pressed to the transparent material as he oohed at the sights below.
Jaina stumbled over and tugged on her father's pant leg. "Dada, 'payship!" she exclaimed, pointing at the looming form of the massive dagger-shaped Star Destroyer, one of the few ships big enough to be clearly visible despite the mandated distance between it and the skyhook.
"That's a spaceship all right," Han said, lifting Jaina up and turning her to face it. "A big one too. It's Lusankya."
"'Sankya!"
Over at the window, Jacen drew back, leaving an imprint of his face on the transparisteel. He almost tumbled over backwards; was caught and steadied by a quick Noghri hand, which left him peering around with a small, suspicious look. Kyp was rewarded with the sight of Mobvekhar effortlessly staying out of Jacen's view, a miracle of silent movement on two feet.
There was a whisper of sound next to him and Kyp turned. Cakhmaim, the leader of Leia's Noghri security detail, appeared with his typical near-silent movement. "I have secured your new residence, Han clan Solo." Cakhmaim turned his alien eyes on Kyp. "And Kyp clan Solo," he added.
Kyp swallowed. The first time the Noghri called him that he'd told them that he wasn't a member of the family. Cakhmaim had explained, with grave precision, that clan was not a matter of blood alone.
"I'd really rather wait for Leia to look at the place," Han said with a sigh. "But if she's gonna be stuck in that Council meeting for the next six hours…" he shrugged. "Fine, let's go. I want to see my new kitchen and make sure it lives up to expectations."
"I assessed it on the basis of the criteria you laid out," Cakhmaim replied, very seriously. "It has the required countertop space, and the provided burner unit can reach the desired maximum temperature in as short a time as five minutes. The refrigeration unit can hold more than the requested volume, and—" the Noghri's voice carried a hint of pronounced pride "—it has adjustable shelving."
"Outstanding recon work," Han said cheerfully. If a Noghri could glow, Cakhmaim did. "C'mon kids!"
"Han, I'm seventeen," Kyp shot back, amused. He lifted his hand up to his head, as if measuring himself against Han.
"I don't care if you're as tall as I am. You live with us, we feed you, you're a kid."
Kyp allowed himself a smile. He looked back through the window as they retreated towards the interior of the skyhook, a quiet corner of his mind wondering just how he had been so lucky. An even quieter corner whispered that nothing was ever given for free.
Like the Imperial Palace on the surface of Coruscant below, the construction of the Emperor's skyhook had spared no expense, but unlike the Palace the skyhook had actually existed before the Empire. Originally the Herdessan Skyhook, it had been built by a powerful trade guild in the latter millennia of the Old Republic and eventually served as the home for Senators and other dignitaries, particularly those uncomfortable in the dense, urban environment of Coruscant. When Coruscant's municipal government had persuaded the New Republic's government to allow the world's skyhooks to return to the sky, the skyhook had been given to the New Republic so that it could resume that ancient purpose.
Now formally renamed the Sadashassa Senatorial Skyhook, after the Senator from Herdessa who had been arrested and put to death by Palpatine when she had objected to the formal declaration of Empire, it had been chosen to serve an even greater purpose: the very seat of the provisional galactic government.
Buried deep in the heart of what had been the Emperor's Skyhook was the room that currently served as the Provisional Council chambers. A large, circular wooden table ringed the room, with wooden panels and columns lining the exterior of the space. Above a tinted transparisteel ceiling permitted light to cascade down over the space, illuminating the table with almost perfect columns of light, dust flickering as it passed through.
Leia fought hard not to put her head in her hands. It was difficult. The discussions about the latest draft of the Concordat had started well enough, with a calm discussion of the importance of balance between the interests of the Outer Rim and the Core, how to structure the new assignment of Senate seats, and how the rules would be set for the various levels of the Republic's judiciary.
Sadly, from there the conversation had quickly deteriorated.
"The Councilor from Sullust would like to respectfully remind the gentlebeing from Kolthis that while the Bothans were indeed indispensable to the war effort, their vaunted intelligence about the Second Death Star was deliberately provided in order to lure the Rebellion into a trap, and that many more Sullustans fought at Endor than did Bothans. To claim otherwise is an insult to their memory. And, he adds, that he was personally present at no fewer than eleven engagements against the Imperial military and was wounded in action, while Councilor Fey'lya has no personal combat history—"
Threepio's voice vanished under the rumble of annoyed voices. Fey'lya's distinctive voice in particular cut through the crowd: "That is a personal insult! And it is irrelevant to the matter at hand, but if—"
"The Councilor from Sullust would like to respectfully suggest—" Leia wasn't sure if Threepio was adding that, but Sian Tevv didn't sound like he was respectfully suggesting anything "—that insults would not be required if anything else succeeded in getting through the—oh my—excessively thick skull of the gentlebeing from Kolthis—"
"Enough," Mon Mothma's hand came down on the table with all the authority of a gavel—or an orbital strike—making Leia's head snap back up. Or maybe that was Winter poking her subtly with a writing stylus; Leia sent her aide an annoyed look. "Need I remind the Honored Councilors that infighting within the higher echelon of the Senate is what weakened it to the point that Chancellor Palpatine was able to usurp it? You may have your disagreements," Mon Mothma's voice was steel, "but you will have them civilly, and always with an aim to resolve them." Her voice went from steel to soothing. "Always remember, my friends, the cost of Senatorial dysfunction."
Fey'lya looked less than convinced, but he knew better than to challenge Mon Mothma directly. With a nod he sank back into his chair. Sian Tevv, by contrast, looked properly chastened and offered a deep nod. "The Councilor from Sullust recognizes the wisdom of your words, Chief of State Mon Mothma," Threepio translated, his tone respectful and conciliatory. "And accepts that the lessons of the Empire should never be forgotten, especially not while its horrors continue to unfold in so much of the galaxy."
"Thank you," Mon Mothma said with a small, regal smile. "I believe we can table the debate over the Concordat for now. We have two additional matters we must attend to." She thumbed a switch on her desk. "Please send in Senator Bel Iblis."
The attention of the Council all turned to the room's main entrance. The sliding doors, half-transparent to reveal the tall form of a human male beyond, slid open and Garm Bel Iblis walked in, resplendent in green Corellian robes of office, and the first civilian garb she'd ever seen him wear. His gait was calm and resolved, but Leia could feel his silent concerns, buried deep so they were not revealed by his face.
"Senator Bel Iblis," Mon Mothma greeted him, and Leia could feel Bel Iblis' tension grow. The relationship between the two founders of the Rebel Alliance had been strained for years, and while they had resolved to work together again the tension in the air between them could be cut with a knife. "Congratulations on your election as Senator for Corellia-in-exile," she said, with no hint of the misgivings that Leia knew she still felt over Garm's return to politics. "Your extensive credentials and qualifications need no introduction and your seat on this Council is well-deserved," Mon Mothma added gently. "Please, come take it."
"Thank you," Bel Iblis replied. He circled the table and took his seat to Leia's right.
The Wookiee member of the council, Kerrithrarr, growled a greeting. "The Councilor from Kashyyyk offers his greetings to Councilor Bel Iblis, and his admiration for the Councilor's long military service, including his recent successful campaigns against the Empire," Threepio translated.
"Thank you, Councilor Kerrithrarr," Bel Iblis replied, his gravelly baritone equal to the Wookiee's impressive voice. "I offer my own admiration for your long service and your leadership of the rebellion that freed your world and people from the slavery of the Empire."
Bel Iblis' initial nerves were calming, Leia noted, feeling a growing relaxation and confidence emanate to match the wily old Corellian's outward poise.
"Our last issue of business is an intelligence briefing," said Mon Mothma, drawing the focus back to herself. "As you all know, Councilor Organa Solo—" Mon Mothma nodded at Leia, sending all attention in the room towards Leia momentarily before it returned to the Chief of State—"has been negotiating a peace treaty with the Quintad Houses of Eriadu. What is not as well known is that there has also been an overture made to Grand Moff Kaine and the Oversector."
There was a rustle of movement, some disgruntled, some surprised as the other Councilors assimilated that information. Kerrithrarr in particular looked disgusted but not surprised; the Wookiees were not fond of any accomodations with worlds where slavery remained common. That, more than anything, was why Leia made clear that peace with the New Republic came with a full, unambiguous ban on slavery, enforceable by the New Republic military, or peace did not come at all.
"Councilor Organa Solo?" Mon Mothma prompted.
Leia pushed forward and rested both her hands on the circular table they sat around. She glanced right and left, meeting Bel Iblis' calm gaze with her own, then Mon Mothma's, before she began. "To date I have not had any detailed negotiations with Grand Moff Kaine or his representatives," she said, "and there are reasons to believe that peace with the Oversector will not be as easily achieved as peace with Eraidu. The Oversector is self-sufficient while Eraidu is not, and it has room for potential expansion into the Unknown Regions. It also possesses the Empire's most formidable military formation, Scourge Squadron—twenty-four Imperial-class Star Destroyers, led by the Executor-class Super Star Destroyer Reaper, Kaine's flagship."
There was another rustle as the Councilors adopted various frowns or sabacc faces.
"However, there is reason for hope. Grand Moff Kaine has assiduously avoided serious combat with our forces ever since the Battle of Endor and declined to fully commit to Grand Admiral Thrawn's campaign two years ago. Our intelligence sources—" the Smugglers' Alliance, mostly, which still had extensive contacts in both the New Republic and the Empire—"indicate that many of the businesses in the Oversector wish to restore their traditional trade relationships with worlds that are now part of the New Republic."
Leia paused, letting her gaze track over each of the other Councilors. Their skepticism was clear—especially among the non-humans. "Is that all?" asked Fey'lya, his tone dismissive.
"There is one other thing I find particularly curious," Leia replied. "Grand Moff Kaine has adopted a practice unknown through the rest of the Empire: He has recruited non-humans to serve in the Oversector's military."
Even Fey'lya sat up straighter at that, his expression pursing with surprised curiosity. "In what capacity?"
"My understanding, and General Cracken can provide a more in-depth briefing on this at our leisure, is that some have even risen to the officer corps. They don't serve aboard the Oversector's Star Destroyers, but they do serve as pilots and crew on smaller ships, especially the Oversector's home-built Enforcer-class cruisers"
"Interesting," Bel Iblis mused softly. "They must have been desperately in need of crew for ISB to tolerate that."
Leia nodded. "The Oversector's military buildup faced the same problem that Thrawn did during the last campaign—they could build or acquire ships faster than they could train new crew. Kaine, thankfully, did not have access to clones."
The shudder that went through the Council chambers was one Leia fully sympathized with.
"However, there are two major problems which make the prospects for peace uncertain at best." She lifted a finger. "First, Grand Moff Kaine has personal ties to the New Order. He helped create COMPNOR and in that capacity was one of the founders of ISB, which remains devoted to war against the New Republic at any cost. The terrorist attacks at Rendili after its independence were committed by ISB operatives, and ISB is far stronger within the Oversector than it was at Rendili."
Sian Tevv said something in Sullustan. "The esteemed Councilor from Sullust would like to point out that the ISB attacks at Rendili killed nearly fifteen thousand people and destroyed two of Rendili StarDrive's major construction facilities," Threepio translated. "And subsequent attempts at sabotage have been a major hindrance for the production of new warships."
"I know," Leia said heavily. "But Kaine's ISB history may help us here. As one of its founders, he is one of the only people in the Empire who might be able to persuade ISB to seriously commit to peace with the New Republic. He did manage to convince them to accept non-human crew on some ships."
"I don't think so," Bel Iblis said skeptically. "Kaine is well respected, but ISB is more likely to respond by calling him a traitor. Those personnel have been brainwashed for decades and they have power and wealth and prestige, even in a dying Empire. That would all be lost under the terms of any peace deal we could accept." He shook his head. "ISB will have to be destroyed, root and branch."
"If that is the case, Kaine's ISB history may also help us accomplish that as well," Leia pointed out. "Who better to help us dismantle the Imperial Security Bureau than the man who helped create it?"
"That assumes he's willing to participate."
Kerrithrarr objected with an explosive, angry growl. "The Councilor from Kashyyyk objects to this entire discussion. Grand Moff Kaine has been complicit in the perpeutation of slavery in the Oversector," Threepio recited, doing his best imitation of an angry Wookiee's tone.
"Any peace with the Oversector will require the total dismantling of slavery, with mechanisms for observation and verification," Leia replied firmly. "That is an unbreakable requirement, as it is with Eraidu."
The big Wookiee shook his head furiously, grumbling as her droid continued translating. "The Councilor from Kashyyyk respectfully points out that even if Kaine is willing to accept that, the Oversector has many prominent businesses which rely on slavery as an integral part of their operations. For instance, the Amber Sun Mining Corporation relies on slaves for—"
Leia cut him off with a growl of her own. "If we cannot assure the end of slavery and the repatriation of all Imperial-held slaves through negotiations, Councilor Kerrithrarr, we will assure it through war."
The declaration stilled conversation as each member of the council considered that. Kerrithrarr offered a big, fang-bearing smile and crossed his enormous arms across his chest to make clear which of the two options he thought was more likely.
"You said there were two problems, Leia," Bel Iblis interjected smoothly. "What is the second?"
Leia glanced at Winter, who offered her a subtle nod. "The second threat to negotiations with the Oversector is the Inquisitorius." Leia leaned back in her chair, adopting confident body language in a way that she hoped the others wouldn't read as overcompensating, silently thankful that none of the other Councilors were Force-sensitives with a strong empathic sense. "With the permission of General Cracken, I have invited an expert on the Inquisitorius to brief us on the threat." She pressed one of the buttons on the board in front of her; the computer responded with a brief, acknowledging hum.
The man who walked into the room was extraordinarily tall, nearly two meters in height. Kam Solusar had hair as white as Winter's, and he wore the cream-colored tunic and homespun brown robes that Luke had recently adopted for the new Jedi Order, modeled after the holos of Obi-Wan Kenobi from the Clone Wars. His belt bore two sabers: His own on his right, while his father's lightsaber hung from his left side, closer to his heart. Most importantly, he had been an Inquisitor, captured and broken to the will of Darth Vader, and served it for decades before he had, with the patient, unrelenting aid of Luke Skywalker, finally put that history behind him.
Not that the Provisional Council was likely to let it go quite that easily.
"Jedi Solusar," Leia greeted him. The brief, nervous flinch in his expression was matched by his Force-sense. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with us."
"Of course, Councilor," Kam responded with a bow of his head, his resonant voice filling the space.
Leia knew better than to leave silence that might let the other Councilors ask questions. "You have agreed to brief us on the Inquisitorius and its role inside Grand Moff Kaine's Oversector," she prompted him.
"Yes," Kam said somewhat stiffly. His back was tight, his hands folded behind his back as his gaze swept over the Councilors assembled at the circular table. "Though I should start by pointing out that I have not been a member of the Inquisitorius since Endor, and the organization is not what it was while I was an Inquisitor."
"Of course—"
Kerrithrarr's gravelly growl overpowered Leia's voice, the interruption catching her off guard. "The Councilor from Kashyyyk wishes to know how a member of the Inquisitorius came to leave its service and become a Jedi," Threepio translated, putting as much of the Wookiee's aggressive tone into his own cadences as he could manage.
Kam winced, the expression subtle but obvious to humans and aliens as practiced in the arts of politics as the ones in this room. "My service to the Inquisitorius was compelled since childhood," he admitted. "Recruits were picked for Force ability and put through intensive trials to elicit responses that opened them to the Dark Side of the Force. The death of the Emperor and Vader at Endor offered me an opportunity to escape—"
"How many Jedi did you kill?" Bel Iblis' voice was cutting. "That was the mandate of the Inquisitorius, after all. From your record, you were recruited by the Inquisitorius not long after Palpatine seized power. You served the Inquisitorius for nearly two decades." Bel Iblis' hand rapped lightly on the table, his eyes dark and intent as he watched Kam. "Surely you killed some."
Leia flinched. She had worried that the Councilors might be aggressive in this meeting, and for more than one reason, but she had hoped Garm would be more conciliatory than Kerrithrarr or Fey'lya.
As much as she flinched, Kam's reaction was far more pronounced. He took a deep breath, his anguish obvious. Finally, after regaining his composure, he looked up to meet Bel Iblis' gaze. "Five."
The tension in the room grew thick. Leia took the opportunity to glance at the other councilors; Bel Iblis, Fey'lya, and Kerrithrarr's expressions were blank and unreadable. Mon Mothma's pained expression, heavy with mourning, was paired with a bitter hardness. "Forgive us for being skeptical," Mon Mothma said slowly. "But Councilor Kerrithrarr asks an excellent question."
"Yes, ma'am," Kam responded soberly. "It is a difficult question for me to answer." He took another deep breath; the Councilors let him. "Many of the Inquisitors, including myself, are… were… former Padawans. Others were members of the Jedi Agricultural Corps—Jedi who washed out of training before they became Padawans. A few were even Knights. We were selected by Vader. He set us against one another, found ways to tempt us with the Dark… to break us, or kill us, or have us kill one another. When we were broken, we all hated him, but hate… hate is easily manipulated, misled and redirected." Kam closed his eyes, his anguish deepening. "I hated him. I wanted to kill him, to kill myself... he took my hatred and self-loathing and used it as a weapon against others. Used me as a weapon." Kam swallowed hard. "If there is one thing I have learned, it is that self-loathing damages others as much as it damages one's own self."
"Be that as it may," Mon Mothma's voice was calm, but unforgiving. "How are you different from the rest of the Inquisitors?"
Kam refused to look away. "When I was given the chance to leave, I took it. The Inquisitors who remain with the Empire had that same chance to leave that I did." Kam paused, looking at each councilor slowly, saving his fullest attention for Bel Iblis and Kerrithrarr. "They chose to stay."
"I should add," Leia put in, "that Jedi Skywalker has vouched for Jedi Solusar."
"Are you a Jedi?" Mon Mothma asked Kam, her voice cutting. Leia winced as Mon declined to even look at her; the fight between them about the independence of the Jedi Order from the Republic had never been entirely resolved.
"Jedi is a title that was given by the Masters of the Order to those they deemed worthy," Kam replied. "There are no masters now. Jedi Skywalker believes the title is important and that I am worthy of it, but I do not demand it." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Whether I am or am not worthy of it is the will of the Force, and best left to the judgment of others."
Mon Mothma looked like she was about to sally forth with another round of questioning, but she was preempted by Bel Iblis. "The Rebellion was always willing to accept defectors and offer forgiveness," he said, and his tone was far more conciliatory than it had been. Next to him, Kerrithrarr was also more relaxed, his arms crossed but without the looming aggressiveness that the Wookiee could sometimes adopt. "If Jedi Skywalker declares that you are a Jedi, then I for one am willing to accept his judgment."
Leia glanced at Mon Mothma. The Chief of State wasn't looking at Bel Iblis, but the firming of her lips and the targeted glare she was currently sending above Kam's head said it all. Leia felt her back tighten and sent Winter a quick look; Winter's returning expression bore the same tension that Leia felt.
It wouldn't take a betting man to lay odds that the longstanding tension between Bel Iblis and Mon Mothma was going to come to a head sooner rather than later. Leia was saddened, if unsurprised, their slugging match had started so soon.
If they keep this up, Leia grouched, I'm locking them in a closet with a bottle of Savareen brandy until they can get whatever it is out of their systems.
"Thank you for answering our questions," Mon Mothma said, her gracious tone belied by an evident frown. "Please continue your briefing."
"Of course," Kam said, either oblivious to the tension or ignoring it. "As I was saying, the Inquisitors who remain chose to remain." He glanced at Leia. "There is much I could say, but I'll start with the bottom line. The men and women of the Inquisitorius are not Inquisitors because they are misled, or because they are trying to make the galaxy a better place in their own way. They are Inquisitors because they like it. They like the power, they like the prestige, they like the unfettered authority to inflict suffering. They are this way because they were broken—deliberately—by Vader, the Emperor, or by one another." He shook his head. "Or perhaps they are who they always were, and the Dark Side merely revealed their true selves. I do not believe they can be saved. If the war with the Empire is to be ended, the remaining Inquisitors will be an obstacle not easily surmounted."
When Mon Mothma finally gaveled out the Council Leia turned to Winter. The two women wore matching expressions of exhaustion, and Leia offered Winter a hand as her white-haired aide started to stand.
"Leia," Winter said, her tone frustrated and her glare sharp. "I'm just pregnant."
Leia grimaced, belatedly remembering how frustrating Han's constant worrying during her own pregnancy had been. At least he'd had the excuse of her being hunted by Imperial assassins and going on diplomatic missions to hostile worlds. "Sorry," she said with a sigh.
Winter smiled at her. "It's alright, this is clearly revenge for how delicately I treated you, but given how you felt at this stage you don't need to worry," Winter reassured her.
"I will anyway," Leia said dryly.
"I know," Winter agreed, rolling her eyes. "You hide it well, but you worry about everything." Winter leaned in close, lowering her voice to a whisper. "There's only one person in the New Republic who worries more than you, and that's Mon Mothma."
Leia glanced over her shoulder, where the greying former-Senator, current Chief of State of the New Republic, was collecting her pads as she made her exit. "She has a lot to carry on her shoulders."
"And she puts a lot of that weight on yours," Winter pointed out.
"That's not true," Leia said defensively. "If I didn't take care of it she'd work herself into a catatonic daze."
Winter looked like she was about to respond, but her voice faded out as she saw something behind Leia. She nodded in that direction.
Leia turned. Kam was approaching, his expression weary and uncertain, both his hands tugging awkwardly on the cream-colored robes he wore. "I hope I didn't make anything more difficult," he said warily. "I didn't realize they were going to discuss my personal history."
"You did fine," Leia assured him. "Some of the Councilors are still unhappy with my brother's decision to keep the Jedi independent of the New Republic, and they took that frustration out on you. You handled it as well as he would have." Leia hooked her arm through Winter's, making the other woman roll her eyes, then headed towards the exit. Beyond it, she could feel Jacen and Jaina's presence—and Kyp's. "How is Kyp's training going?"
Kam followed. He loomed over both women—he loomed over most humans, and most aliens unless they were Wookiees—but despite his size, he could sometimes have a quiet, almost unnoticeable presence. Leia had become better acquainted with him over the last month, since Luke had left Coruscant on an errand with Mara and Lando. In that time, Kam had taken the role of Kyp's instructor in the vagaries of the Force. Leia's too, when she had time for it, which wasn't often.
"Acceptably," he said, with his typical terseness. He hesitated for a moment, then offered a tiny shrug of his shoulders. "He's a natural."
Leia nodded, feeling Winter's presence beside her. The white-haired woman was carefully silent; Leia knew that she liked Kyp—if Luke and Kam were the boy's teachers about the Force, Winter had been his primary academic instructor (and Han his primary teacher about everything else). But Leia also knew that she worried about Kyp.
"That makes it even more important for him to have structured training," she said, instead of voicing the thought.
Kam nodded in agreement. "Yes."
Leia waited for him to continue. When the silence stretched, she only barely managed to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She was a talker, Han was a talker, and Kam's terseness was already verging on unsettling. Either Luke would have to get him to loosen up or she'd have to grow used to carrying that conversational weight as well.
The brief hallway was one of multiple entrances from the meeting hall out into the public space. The furnishings were plas-wood, with low benches on either side for people to sit or place personal items. On each end of the hall was a security door, and Leia, Winter and Kam had to wait for the monitoring equipment to confirm their identities before it opened. They exited into the large waiting hall; today it was mostly empty, but in the future it would likely be filled with observers, family, and newsies. Threepio tottered after them, the sounds of his mechanical gears unmistakable.
"Do you want to come with me to see the twins and Kyp?" Leia asked Kam. While Kyp wasn't anything like Kam's apprentice, and they weren't nearly as close as Han and Kyp were, Kam had assumed a paternal role.
The tall Jedi turned in the direction of Leia's family. "I do actually," Kam said. "But I have some things I need to attend to. Luke asked me to examine some of the materials we recovered from Vader's tower here on Coruscant."
"All right," Leia agreed, wincing at the mention of Vader. "I'll see you soon, then."
Kam nodded, then withdrew.
Han was there, with her children and Kyp. Jacen was standing next to Mobvekhar, who had become the twins' primary bodyguard; the Noghri watched both Jacen and their surroundings with an attentiveness that seemed excessive given the absence of people, but which Leia was grateful for nonetheless. Jacen saw her first, brightening and stumbling a bit—Mobvekhar offered him the barest hint of aid, almost imperceptible—and waved at her with the frantic excitement of a two-year old. "Mama!"
The excitement swiftly drew the attention of the others and Leia separated herself from Winter to meet her twins in two awkward one-armed hugs. "Hey!" she laughed, grinning at Han and Kyp as she grappled with the twins. "I wasn't gone for that long."
"Too long!" pouted Jacen.
"Too long!" chanted Jaina.
"Too long," echoed their father. "You missed the apartment tour."
"Oh, right," Leia said, blinking. She glanced at Winter, who shrugged.
"There didn't seem to be any way to escape for it."
Leia grimaced. "True… but it would have been best for us all to have a chance to see it," she pointed out. "We're going to need more space than we have in the apartment in the Imperial palace, especially with three babies running about." After Winter's wedding, there had been a brief discussion of her moving into a separate apartment, but ultimately they had decided that a single apartment with more space made more sense.
"I trust Han's judgment," Winter said calmly, her lip twitching with the faintest amusement.
"I'm going to remember you said that," Han said, "and I'm going to remind you of it the next time you criticize my cooking."
"Don't worry, Han. I won't forget."
Han rolled his eyes and gestured at Cakhmaim. "Go ahead, tell Leia and Winter about the apartment." He winked. "It's perfect."
"It has a refrigeration unit with adjustable shelves," announced the Noghri, the words and inflection utterly incongruous with the gnashing, inherently menacing sound of his voice.
Luckily, Leia no longer found his voice disturbing to listen to, and it had never bothered Jacen or Jaina at all. "Does it," Leia said dryly. "And that surely was at the very top of our priority list."
"I had it put in the top five, along with counter space and a proper burner unit," Han blustered.
"It was deemed important," Cakhmaim confirmed. He didn't bother adding that the extensive security features were non-negotiable; for a Noghri, that went without saying.
Leia shared a silent look with Han. He beamed back unapologetically, and she slowly felt herself start to reluctantly grin at him. After a few hours in a Council meeting, he knew exactly what she needed to feel good about the galaxy again.
"Leia," a new voice came from behind her, a familiar one. She turned as Garm Bel Iblis approached. Unlike all the other Councilors, he walked alone, without any aides or staff. "Do you have a minute?"
She glanced at Han, whose resigned shrug suggested that she keep it to as few minutes as possible. "Of course, Garm," she replied with a welcoming smile. "Why don't you walk with us, I think we were about to catch a transport back to the Palace." She gestured in the direction of the Skyhook's landing pads. "What do you need?"
"I was hoping to talk to you about the latest draft of the Concordat," he said, his tone serious. "I have concerns about the degree of centralization implied by the draft document, and wanted to hear your insights from the latest rounds of negotiation."
She sighed softly. It was, she suspected, a good thing Garm had not been able to join the Council meeting until after the debate over the Concordat. The personal wrangling would likely have annoyed him more than it annoyed Leia. Unfortunately, the problem wasn't really interpersonal dynamics, but some deeply felt disagreements about how best to structure a new galactic government, and it really was a problem they had to solve. The provisional arrangements made no one happy—not that the final version was likely to make anyone really happy either, in the end—but with the Empire's power waning, it became more and more important to present the galaxy with the new arrangements for consideration and ratification. "Of course, Garm," she repeated. "Why don't you come by the apartment tomorrow. In the morning, after breakfast? I can get you up to date on the current state of affairs. In the meantime," she gestured at all the people surrounding her family. "Have you met everyone here?"
Garm hesitated again and she could feel his uncertainty. "I believe I've met everyone but the young man next to your husband," he finally said, nodding at Kyp.
Kyp's sudden spate of nervousness matched Garm's. A lonely old man who has spent a lifetime doing his duty, and a lonely young man looking for a place in the world, she thought.
"That's Kyp, Kyp Durron," Han said gruffly, and Leia's heart swelled at her husband's obvious protectiveness. "He's part of the family."
The elder Corellian's eyebrows rose. "Your side of the family?"
Han lowered his brow slightly and crossed his arms. "Yeah. You could say that."
The crash of emotion that washed over Kyp hit Leia like a tidal wave. "Kyp's family was killed by the Empire," Leia said, steadying herself. It didn't seem like a good time or place to discuss Kyp's full history, and his Force abilities were something they definitely wanted to keep a secret. "So he's staying with us."
"I see," Garm said, giving Kyp a longer look.
"Councilor Bel Iblis has spent the last three decades fighting the Empire," Leia told Kyp. "He created his own military and helped found the Rebel Alliance. He's been one of the most important figures in the war against it."
The words had the desired effect. Kyp straightened. "I want to fight the Empire too," Kyp said, and Leia could hear the quiet sincerity, the fervor, in his voice that she had heard in so many voices over the years. All the young humans and non-humans who had joined the cause. All the fervor of youth and purpose.
All the medbays she'd visited over the years. All the premature grey hairs and worry lines.
"Well," Garm's voice had the same dark, slightly gravelly quality that it always did. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked, beckoning Kyp over.
Kyp leaned in with a suspicious cast of face.
Garm's voice was conspiratorial now. "Did you see that big ship," he pointed at Lusankya in the distance.
"I saw it," Kyp answered. Leia turned her own attention on Lusankya, the dagger-shape looming in the distance, the enormous red New Republic seal painted on the hull visible even from here.
"Keep an eye on your newsfeeds. The people I left in charge of her are going to go after the Empire, and it won't be easy, and it won't be pretty, but I have faith that they'll give the Imps the thrashing they deserve."
Kyp's sudden, eager smile wilted as Han glared at Garm. "The military is not for everyone. Lots of discipline, early mornings," Han interjected sourly. "Kyp prefers to sleep in."
Garm pivoted back to Han almost apologetically. "That's true. And the food is truly terrible."
Leia blinked slowly, trapped in a stretched-out moment of time. All she could see were fields of grave markers stretching out into the endless distance.