The central structure of the compound resembled an oversized log cabin peppered with more windows than most Coruscant skyscrapers. Perhaps as a nod to transparency in diplomatic relations, lights blaring from the interior lit up the house like a beacon. As Leia neared, she could make out several smaller houses scattered behind the lodge that, in contrast to the primary building, maintained a dignified air of privacy.

Inside, the heavy doors opened to a foyer that led to an oversized great room framed by heavy wooden beans. Clusters of dark furniture occupied the center space; scattered around the room were smaller three-sided nooks seemingly designed for more intimate conversations. In the middle of all this, a tall woman with a hassled air was holding court. She wore a navy knee-length dress over leggings; her graying hair, unbrushed and frazzled, couldn't quite hide a fashionable chin-length bob.

"Ambassador Maerva," Leia greeted her. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I must say, you have quite the contingent searching for you."

"Leia Organa." The ambassador gave Leia a once-over and nodded at Sollus. "My deputy was the one who encouraged us to reach out to you despite my concerns about protecting the negotiations. I am not convinced that involving more people at this juncture is the right course of action."

"I fail to see how my presence could add to the trouble generated by your scheme," Leia said mildly.

"Too many cooks in the kitchen don't result in a tastier stew," the ambassador retorted.

"Well I, for one, am delighted to meet new visitors," a voice interrupted. "I was beginning to tire of the same old faces in our little drama."

Leia focused on the young man seated in a plush armchair opposite the ambassador. Ice-blue eyes and shoulder-length locks surely exaggerated the boyishness of his appearance; even so, Leia doubted he was much older than twenty. His body language — reclined comfortably against a thick cushion, one leg slung over the other, head tilted bemusedly — would have lent an air of insouciance if not for the single-barreled blaster cocked to his temple.

"I have everything under control, Princess," the ambassador cut in. "You're welcome to observe, but I don't require any diplomatic assistance."

Leia resisted making the point that when one-third of a diplomatic party was hours away from suicide, under control was a bit generous. Knowing Han was thinking the same, she shot him a warning glare and guided the other woman out of the main room. The two of them huddled to the side under portraits of Tolorian diplomats gazing out benignly over the proceedings.

"Can you enlighten me on what happened over the past few days?" Leia asked in a low voice.

"Is that absolutely necessary? We're losing precious time." When Leia didn't respond, the ambassador sighed. "For months we have been negotiating the rights to water access and distribution to the communities living on this side of the hills. As you likely know, the city of Ischen supports its water needs from the aquifers under these hills. Unfortunately, those are not going to be able to sustain the increasing population for much longer. So the government had to come up with a new plan.

"The only way to keep the city habitable is to dam the river that runs from the mountains to the Ischen seaport. Naturally, that generated protests among the communities living along the river. Local resistance grew and eventually caught the attention of one of the major political parties, the Federation of Tolorian States."

"And now the government is being pressured into re-considering the dam," Leia stated.

"Not exactly. The government would much prefer to ride out the protests and move forward with the dam as planned. But it became significantly more complicated when environmental activists joined the coalition. Not as part of the FTS party — they'd never deign to get their hands dirty with real politics — but as a wedge in these types of negotiations. The rabble-rousers who shift the window of what's possible."

"It's been my experience that those factions are always necessary to make progress," observed Leia. "Otherwise a centrist stasis would prevail with no movement on either side."

"That may be your view, but the way I see it these radicals gum up the process and make things more difficult for everyone. In any event," the ambassador continued, "we agreed to far more concessions around the timing of the dam construction to minimize damage to those communities in exchange for the very real possibility of temporary drought in the city. It also increased the cost of the project by a significant amount."

"But why all the secrecy?"

"Water distribution and environmental issues in general have become heated political battles in recent years. Progress made during previous talks was destroyed when word of an agreement leaked prematurely. I wanted a locked-down negotiation: no media, no holo-reporters, no communication whatsoever. It took months to arrange with the two sides and extract promises on the confidentiality of the discussions. It was nearly as much effort to keep embassy and Tolorian officials in the dark."

Leia couldn't help being impressed. "That was quite the gamble."

"Obviously," the ambassador shot back. "And it was working until this afternoon. The rest of the delegation had departed with our assistants to formally draft the agreement at which we had arrived. And then Jonah just seemed to snap. He sat down in that chair and pulled a blaster from his ankle." She stared scornfully toward the cause of her ruined summit. "And you know the rest."

Leia absorbed all of this for a moment. "So you don't think his tactic was pre-meditated?"

"Only he can answer that. All I can say is that there was no indication during the negotiations that he wasn't willing to accept what was agreed upon."

"And clearly no one was searched for weapons. Isn't doing so one of the stated policies for these types of meetings?"

"Stated, perhaps," the ambassador said. "But I felt that establishing an atmosphere of trust was more important."

Another risky move, clearly, and one that was looking more and more misplayed. "All right," Leia said. "We can't undo what happened. Our goal now is to keep him alive. We need to make him understand that nothing is set in stone and that we can re-negotiate later. Agreed?"

The ambassador pursed her lips and looked away. "If you insist, Princess."

"I do." Leia paused. "What's his story? What do you think led him to do this?"

"Ideology. Youthful exuberance. You tell me." The ambassador sighed. "Whatever the reason, we need to somehow change his mind."

"You must be Jonah." Leia said smoothly when they re-entered the main room. "I'm Leia Organa of the New Republic diplomatic offices."

"I know who you are," Jonah responded. He extended his weaponless hand and shook her own. "And as a representative of the New Republic diplomatic offices, you can be confident that I have no intention of hurting anyone in this purely peace-seeking endeavor."

She ignored the mocking tone. "And we're not here to harm you or remove you against your will. We just want to work toward an agreement that will be satisfactory to all parties."

"Just the same, General Solo," the young man continued, glancing over to Han. "I'd be happy to take your blaster off you."

"Actually, it's been a few years since I was an active-duty officer," Han corrected. "But I do remember that I'm not supposed to hand over my weapon to a crazy person even if they ask nicely."

Jonah's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "Well, I tried."

"Did you?"

"That's enough," Leia said sharply. How her husband had managed not to absorb a single conflict-resolution tactic during their years together defied belief. "Let's move to the issue at hand."

"Yes, let's," Jonah agreed. "The dam is a destructive menace clothed as a life-saving engineering marvel. It will displace native communities, be a blight on the landscape, and won't do a thing to prevent the looming showdown between a growing population and environmental catastrophe. Why the government continues to go down this road is incomprehensible."

"What about the millions of people in the city who require water for daily survival?" Leia asked. "Does their displacement not count?"

"Our organization is committed to seeking alternative solutions," Jonah said. "But the government refuses to engage."

"Of course we've engaged," Sybil rolled her eyes. "We funded studies and published the results. You've read them. The dam is the best option on a very short list."

Leia wished she had been able to review those reports. "I'm sure we can all agree that there is no ideal solution in this situation. Thus, should the goal not be to focus on the actions that can preserve the most lives?"

"I don't see it that way," Jonah returned. "By allowing the tactic to be defined so narrowly, we restrict ourselves to the solutions that are only approved by the powers that be. In this case, the politicians are allowing themselves to be swayed by the mass populace in the cities who are concerned only with their own well being."

"The communities along the river are not going to last much longer either in this drought," Leia pointed out. "What then? Can an activist such as yourself can appreciate the trade-offs that would allow for a future at all?"

"I'm not an activist," Jonah said tiredly. "I just want the people with whom I have lived my entire life to have hope for their future. We are all aware that the proposed dam will result in destruction of our homes. Yes, yes," he waved his hand impatiently at the ambassador, "I know the government will front the cost of moving everyone. But the roots of life are irreplaceable and can never be recovered."

"That may be true in one sense," Leia said. "But you still have your loved ones. Although you will necessarily have to put down new roots, you can do so knowing that you will survive to create future generations."

"Survive, perhaps." The blaster in his hand didn't waver. "To thrive, people need to be part of a community that acts in the best interests of everyone. That acts in the opposite manner in which our government has thus far acted.

"There is an old poem," he continued. "Perhaps you know it. It's about shame in the face of societal failing. The ending goes something like this:

He had forethought, he could reason,
And saw the road and where it led,
And early wise and brave in season,
Put the pistol to his head."

The room was quiet for a long moment. "And what is your shame?" Leia finally asked.

"That I haven't done enough to stop this," Jonah said. "That environmental disaster is upon us despite having had decades to prepare. It's a collective shame, but one that no one else has claimed. So I will claim it for myself."

"Collective shame can be shared. The burden is not yours alone."

"It is when it is rejected by others."

"I know that poem." Everyone turned to the ambassador. She was glaring at Jonah. "It has nothing to do with the failure of society. It's about the despair of a man who did not conform to others' expectations."

"Is that not the same?" Jonah challenged.

"We all carry feelings of despondency at one point or another," the ambassador countered. "Feelings perhaps brought on simply by being granted a life we did not ask for. But death is not inevitable."

The man seated across from her smiled. "Of course it is, Ambassador. Death is inevitable for all of us."

"Not self-inflicted death. Have you considered that the man in the poem did not see far enough? That there were other roads he could have taken? But perhaps they would not have been as poetic as the one he chose."

"You are mocking me," Jonah accused.

"No. I am only asking that you consider that there are other possibilities, other outcomes. No single path is inevitable. There is always hope."

"You are lucky to feel that way," Jonah said. "Not all of us are as fortunate in our constitution."

Or perhaps you are just too young, Leia thought. She felt Han shift impatiently beside her. It was clear that Jonah was capable of drawing out the debate until they reached his self-imposed deadline. If they were to convince him to stand down, they would need to do it soon.

"Look," she started. "Nothing will change if you kill yourself tonight. But there are other options. If you put your blaster down, the embassy will re-open negotiations on the matter." She drew closer to the ambassador to indicate their unity on this matter. "I can't promise the outcome will be to your liking. But you'll live another day to argue your side which is more than you can say if you pull that trigger."

Jonah shook his head grimly. "It would be naive to think my views will be heard with any more respect than they have been up to now. The government has demonstrated its arrogance time and again."

"I respect your views," Leia shot back. "And it is you who are behaving arrogantly to assume otherwise. In another time and place I might have been tempted to act similarly. But death is not the answer. It never is." She nodded at Ambassador Maerva. "And I know the ambassador agrees with me."

Jonah looked from one woman to the other and sagged back in his chair. "I want an expanded delegation. I want others included besides party leaders in thrall to the current administration. They have been no help to us."

"Fine," the ambassador said grudgingly. "I will instruct my team to begin arrangements for a new summit. Though we will require a couple of weeks for planning purposes."

"But no more than that," Jonah demanded. "The government cannot be allowed to wiggle their way out of this."

The ambassador nodded again. Oxygen seemed to have left the room leaving Leia light-headed and dizzy. Han stepped forward and held out his hand. Jonah placed his blaster in it and stood up heavily. "I feel as if I have aged years in just a few hours." A bemused expression lit up his face. "Maybe that is how our planet feels since the time we have been inhabiting it."

The crack of a windowpane registered with Leia only after she noticed the dark hole in Jonah's forehead. One moment it had not been there and then suddenly it was. He fell back against the chair and slowly slid down, the back of his head leaving a sickening smear on the fabric.

"Everyone get down," Han hissed. Leia crouched on the floor and motioned the ambassador next to her. Sollus hovered over Jonah trying to staunch the wound. Even from her position, Leia could tell it was useless. The shot had been clean, the mark of a professional.

"If we're under attack, we'll need to safeguard our classified data stores," the older woman whispered to Leia.

"Understood." After the explosion of noise the silence was unnerving, the background hum of the electrical systems now amplified. Although they were low to the floor, Leia saw they were still within direct view of smaller windows along the side of the room. A determined assassin could have easily picked them off.

"Here." Han slid Jonah's blaster across the floor to Sollus. "You got any other weapons in this place?"

"Of course not," Ambassador Maerva said archly. "This is a diplomatic retreat, not an arsenal."

"Naturally." Han crept toward the door, motioning Sollus to follow, and nodded at the two women. "You'll have to stay here. Is there an interior room where you can wait until we return?"

"The laundry facilities," the ambassador nodded. "They're just past the kitchen."

"We'll cover you." Han cocked his blaster and scanned the windows. "Go!"

Once ensconced in the small room the two women perched automatically on opposite sides. Sybil found a flashlight and pointed it away from the door. In the weak light, the oversized appliances stretched along the walls arrayed like sentries on high alert for an invading army of mud-stained diplomats.

Leia stretched out her legs and looked longingly in the direction of the kitchen. The granola bar she had downed during the speeder ride was a distant memory. She forced herself to focus on their next moves, on any ripples in her Force-sense, on anything other than her gnawing hunger and weariness.

"When are you due?"

Startled, Leia turned to the ambassador. "Is it that obvious?"

"I'm afraid so. I can tell by the way you rest your hand on your stomach. I remember doing that when I was pregnant with my sons." The ambassador averted her eyes and then, reconsidering, jutted her hand out. "Sybil."

Leia leaned forward and shook her hand. "Yes, I know." She sat back and studied the other woman. "So. How was it?"

"Oh, it was all wonderful. Though I was one of those crazy women who loved being pregnant."

"That is crazy," said Leia drily.

"The first few years were a whirlwind," Sybil went on. "They were close in age, my two sons, and were either accomplices in crime or each other's worst enemy. I remember running every which way trying to keep them from maiming themselves."

Leia couldn't help smiling. "That sounds hectic."

"It was." Sybil said wistfully. "Every day was another adventure, some of them easier than others. And through it all they were growing and changing, constantly keeping me on my toes. And now…" She blinked and shook her head, her entire countenance transformed. "Let's just say it was the best thing I ever did. Have as many as you can."

Leia felt herself flush. "We'll see." And then: "Something tells me Jonah would have disagreed."

"Probably," Sybil nodded. "But I'm a fighter." She winked. "And I know you are too, Princess. Jonah turned inward and made himself larger in his own eyes in pursuit of his cause." She didn't miss Leia's look. "Oh, don't think me callous. I regret that he died; had he lived, perhaps his beliefs would have matured into something more politically effective." Her wry expression returned. "Or maybe I am simply too old to put up with sentiment when it is wielded to encourage death instead of life."

A distant slam of a door interrupted the conversation. They heard Han call their names from across the cabin. Sybil made to stand but Leia held up her hand. "Wait." Then Han added loudly, "I picked up some kibble for the pitten."

Leia nodded to herself and moved to the door. "It's a code we came up with a long time ago," she explained. "It means he and Sollus are alone."

"Thank the gods." Sybil scrambled to her feet. "The two women being shut in the laundry room while the men are out hunting the perpetrator is a little too old-fashioned for my taste."

"We didn't get a good luck at him," Han explained when the four of them gathered in the great room. Sollus was arranging a sheet over Jonah's body. "But I did catch the sound of a swoop. My guess is there were just one or two of them."

"Sollus, what about the security footage of the exterior?" Sybil asked.

"I thought the monitoring systems had been disabled," Leia said.

Sollus shook his head. "I just re-directed a loop of old footage to the embassy. It's still recording."

"That might not have been the wisest move," Leia couldn't help pointing out. "If embassy security had been aware someone was lurking around the property, they may have been able to intervene before it was too late."

They huddled at a table around an oversized monitor. Leia glanced back at the body and felt the familiar desolation at another life lost prematurely. "Will you be able to contact Jonah's family?"

"I'm sure the rest of his delegation knows how to reach them," Sybil said. "But my office will certainly send our condolences." She followed Leia's gaze. "It's especially sad when they're so young. You can't help thinking about —." She stopped and straightened her shoulders, then turned back to the monitor.

"Here." Sollus was pointing to a humanoid figure in one of the images.

"Does he look familiar?" Han asked as the other man zoomed in.

"Not to me." The ambassador rested her chin on her hand. "But look at the patch on his jacket. I think we can hazard a guess about who he represents." She looked at her deputy. "The Zephyar Front have been awfully quiet lately, don't you think?"

"They would have motive," Sollus responded slowly. "Though an assassination would be by far their boldest move."

"The Zephyar Front?" asked Leia.

"They're a wing of the opposition party," explained Sybil. "They're have an anti-environmentalist streak, but they're also anti-regulation, pro-business, pro-galactic unity. They've viewed the formation of the New Republic as an opportunity to consolidate industries and increase profits."

"Whoever he is, someone must have tipped him off that Jonah was here," Han said. "Could one of the other members of the delegation be playing both sides?"

"Possibly." Sybil ran her hands through her hair. "We'll do some digging on our end. If this is the start of a new phase of conflict, my office will need expand our efforts."

"But what would they gain from his death?" Leia asked. "Except to give you cover for not re-opening negotiations on the dam."

"Are we still re-opening the negotiations?" the ambassador challenged.

Leia returned the stare pointedly. "Only you can answer that."

Sybil sighed and glanced again at the lifeless body. "I suppose we should," she admitted. "We should honor Jonah's efforts in some way. And new talks may help stave off further activist meddling of this kind."

"I doubt that's possible," Sollus interjected. "Those opposed to the dam will never be satisfied by a delay."

"No, Sybil said slowly, "but we owe them at least to try. This will be a disputed issue for a long time so we should make a good faith effort to start out on the right foot." She looked at Leia. "Do you agree?"

Leia nodded. "I do. And our office will commit to supporting you any way we can."

Sybil rubbed her face tiredly. "What a night. What a week. If only we hadn't finished the wine yesterday." She suddenly sat upright. "Princess, you must be starving. Let's find you something to eat."

Despite her previous hunger pangs, Leia slumped in a chair unable to eat more than a few cracker squares. The moments prior to the gunshot replayed in her mind as if to taunt her for her inability to prevent the assassination. Had the temporal distance from the war caused her to lose her edge, to become complacent to potential threats? She was unable to summon a satisfactory answer. Sleep, she thought. I just need some sleep.

Han and Sollus were transmitting the enhanced images to New Republic and Tolorian law enforcement agencies when she rejoined them.

"Sollus and I have been staying in the guest rooms here," Sybil said, nodding down a hallway. "But the cabin directly behind this one has been unoccupied; you two can sleep there tonight. Let me grab the key card."

"It's not a very satisfying conclusion," Leia murmured to Han as he swiped the card under the porch light. They were empty-handed otherwise, their bags laying in wait at the hotel in Ischen.

"No." He opened the door and switched on a lamp, revealing a tidy one-room cabin. "But at least we've solved the mystery of the missing ambassador. The investigation into Jonah's murder will take some time."

"No doubt." At this late hour, making a note to follow up with Sybil in a few weeks seemed like the best course of action. Everything else could wait until the morning.

Yawning, Leia sat down on the bed and began to remove her shoes. As she bent over, a stab of pain shot under her ribs, twisting and roiling her stomach. Breathing deeply to counteract the searing sensation, she sat up shakily and tried to unzip her dress instead. Her fingers clutched fruitlessly at the metal protrusion as the pain migrated lower until it was centered on her cervix. She felt herself sway to the side as the stabbing increased in intensity, radiating upward and outward to her extremities. Crashing waves of red burned behind her eyes accompanied by visions of flailing entities and shifting shadows.

"Leia!" The desperation in her husband's voice penetrated the fog of pain. He hovered over her, running his hands over her writhing limbs. "What's happening? Is it the baby?"

She drew in air only to discover that she lacked the strength to respond. Words echoed in her chest and bounced off the contracting borders between the terrifying present and an ill-starred future. She clutched at her abdomen in vain. It's too late, it's too late, it's —

"Leia!" Through her Force-sense, Han's fear started to overwhelm her own. "What should I do?"

"The blood," she managed to gasp. "You have to stop the blood."