After the sudden end of the presidential debate, it took less than one hour to assemble all the members of the New Republic's advisory council. Most of them, including President Organa Solo herself, came from private residences where they'd been watching the debate, and promptly took their private speeders to the senate headquarters building.
Behn-Kihl-Nahm found himself sharing a ride with Borsk Fey'lya. It wasn't something they did often; Fey'lya had never been his favorite in the senate and the Bothan surely returning the feeling, though he was too practiced a politician to say it aloud, even in private. As the two beings, councilors and rival candidates both, sat next to each other in the back of the CSF speeder, they awkwardly struggled with something to say. It was only a ten-minute jump from the convocation hall to the senate building but it felt like it took forever.
Eventually Fey'lya said, "I assure you, I'll make sure you have the full cooperation of the Justice Council in your investigation," though his violet eyes were on the lit-up skyscrapers of Galactic City as they whipped past.
"Thank you, Senator," Behn-Kihl-Nahm said. His attention stayed stiffly ahead, peering over the back of the driver's blue-capped head.
Fey'lya didn't say anything about the timing. Behn-Kihl-Nahm didn't expect him to. It was so obvious there didn't seem anything to say. Whoever had assassinated Pohl-Had-Narr (and Behn-Kihl-Nahm still knew nothing about the how of it) had clearly timed the strike to interrupt the debate and humiliate him. He wracked his mind to think what time it was on Bavinyar's capital of Cephalia. Early morning, probably. He wasn't even sure what time it was here in Galactic City; everything was a dizzying blur as he tried to make sense of too many things at once.
When the speeder arrived at the senate buildings, armed guards were waiting for them. As a senior senator and members of the Advisory Council, Behn-Kihl-Nahm was used to having guards around, but right then they sent a chill down his spine.
Behn-Kihl-Nahm and Fey'lya were quickly ushered deep inside the senate complex, into the windowless chambers where Leia's advisory council met. The princess was already there, at the far end of the oblong table, talking to her chief of staff, Nanaod Engh. The plain human was waving a datapad around, explaining something to her, the leathery-faced Diamalan senator Miatamia, and feathery Calibop Ponc Gavrisom, former President of the Senate and now Leia's top diplomat. When Behn-Kihl-Nahm and Fey'lya entered, Leia's attention immediately locked onto the new arrivals.
"Oh, Bennie," the princess said, stepping away from Engh and Miatamia, "I'm so sorry."
"It's all right, Leia," he said with his best polite smile, though they all knew the smile was fake and it wasn't all right.
From Behn-Kihl-Nahm's shoulder, Fey'lya asked, "Do we have specifics on the assassination yet?"
"We do," Miatamia nodded. As chairman of the Security and Intelligence Council he'd have been briefed first. He looked around the room and said, "Do we want to wait for everyone else to arrive?"
"We're almost at quorum," Engh said. "We just need Senators Niuv and Beruss."
As if on the cue, the door to the chamber slid open and two guards escorted the squat Sullustan senator into the room. Niuk Niuv blinked his big black eyes and said, "I'm sorry for your loss, senator."
"Don't feel sorry for me," Behn-Kihl-Nahm shook his head. "Feel sorry for the people of Bavinyar. This is a black day for us. Despite all the strife between humans and Cereans on my world, the outright assassination of a prime minister is… was beyond the pale."
"Then we had best act clearly and decisively," Fey'lya said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We don't want to be seen as weak."
Behn-Kihl-Nahm knew there was also a danger of coming on too strong, especially on a world like Bavinyar, where the human settlers in particular rankled at outside authority. After what they'd suffered under the Empire it was hardly surprising. Of course, Fey'lya's people had been at the center of the crisis over the Caamas document four years back, and some still said Gavrisom, as acting chief of state, had dawdled too long to assert authority.
The Caamas crisis had come close to ruining Fey'lya's political career, but the revelation that rouge Imperial agents had been meddling in an attempt to spark a civil war in the Republic had been a sort of vindication for him, as well as for Senators Miatamia and Niuv, who had led the factions defending Bothan interests against calls for harsher punishment. It was that lucky stance that was primarily responsible for those two being placed on the council now.
Leia looked to Engh and asked, "Any word on Senator Beruss?"
"Just a moment. Let me check." The staff chief pulled out his comlink to check his messages. Just as he did so, the doors slid open and the council's newest member stepped in. Blond-haired and still bright-eyed, Avan Beruss had been a Rogue Squadron pilot before losing a leg in combat and retiring into the family vocation of politics. He had assumed his father's seat representing Illodia after old Doman had been killed in Kueller's bombing of the senate.
Avan looked around the group until his eyes settled on Behn-Kihl-Nahm. He opened his mouth to give yet another apology, but before it came out, Fey'lya said, "All right, we have a quorum. Let's get to work."
Everyone took seats around the table except for Miatamia. The security chairman stayed on his feet to give his presentation. He tried to look around the room as he spoke but his eyes kept settling on Behn-Kihl-Nahm.
"We've reviewed reports from local Bavinyar security," the Diamalan said. "Unfortunately, we don't have many people on the ground ourselves, so we're mostly having to rely on local reports."
"Go on, Senator," Behn-Kihl-Nahm said.
"From what we've been able to learn, it seems that Prime Minister Pohl-Had-Narr was killed along with his family and aides in the governor's palace on Cephalia."
"All of them?" Behn-Kihl-Nahm felt his stomach sink.
"Yes, Senator. It was an explosion. The BSA doesn't want to make a statement yet, but it appears that someone fired an explosive projectile into the windows of prime minister's quarters."
"Fired from where?" Avan asked, frowning. "The air? The ground?"
"We're not sure of that yet. It appears that the prime minister, his family, and many of his key aides were gathered to, ah, watch the presidential debate."
Behn-Kihl-Nahm lowered his head. Pohl-Had-Narr had, once upon a time, been a student of his. His promise had been visible right away: the young Cerean had been determined to make Bavinyar work despite its split in cultures and species, and had surrounded himself with people who held the same belief.
"What about the vice minister?" Behn-Kihl-Nahm asked. "Was she present?"
"Jadesei Syne was not in the palace when it was attacked," Miatamia said.
Behn-Kihl-Nahm wondered whether she was supposed to be. It was an awful thought, but there it was. He didn't know Syne half as well as he should have. She didn't have the reputation of a radical, but reputations could deceive.
It was Fey'lya he asked it for him: "Was she supposed to be?"
Miatamia blinked. "I don't know at this time."
Fey'lya's fur bristled as he looked to Behn-Kihl-Nahm. "I know the humans on your world are particularly… entitled. We should begin by investigating their organization. The Justice Council will give you full support."
The Bothan was playing a more transparent game than usual. He wanted to make his office look strong and Behn-Kihl-Nahm's look weak. He would also probably score points with certain non-human voters if he cracked down on Bavinyar's human radicals.
"The BSA had been investigating the Bavinyar Independence League for some time. Your departments should coordinate with them." Behn-Kihl-Nahm shifted his gaze from Fey'lya to Miatamia. "Both of you should."
Gavrisom gave a whinnying noise and said, "As I understand it, Senator, the Bavinyar Security Agency is essentially a police force, yes?"
"That's right."
"And it is staffed primarily by Cereans."
"Almost thirty percent are human, actually."
"I also understand that the local defense fleet is primarily staffed by humans."
"Almost ninety percent, yes. But it's a very small fleet, only two light cruisers and a frigate."
"What's the reason for the discrepancy?" Avan asked.
"It's simple, really. The local police force is staffed by Cereans because it's all the Empire let us have. The local defense fleet is mostly made by humans who returned to Bavinyar after the Empire fell and brought their ships with them."
"And many of those had direct experience fighting in the Rebel Alliance," Leia spoke up for the first time.
"I'm sure Bavinyar's Cereans did their part fighting the Empire as well," Fey'lya put in.
"Of course they did," Leia said. "I didn't mean to imply-"
"I know you didn't, Leia," Behn-Kihl-Nahm waved a hand and looked at Fey'lya. "Just as I'm sure you didn't meant to imply that Cereans deserve to live on Bavinyar more than humans."
"Of course not," the Bothan said easily.
"And this Jadesei Syne." Niuv asked, "Was she part of the defense fleet?"
"She was," Behn-Kihl-Nahm nodded. "And she fought with the Rebel Alliance and New Republic before that."
"I understand that she actually fought with the Dorneans," Gavrisom said. Unlike the Mon Cals, Sullustans, or Bothans, the Dorneans had defended their small slice of the Outer Rim alone for thirty years, and had only joined the New Republic after the Emperor was long dead.
"I'm, ah, not sure of the specifics," Behn-Kihl-Nahm said, "But I know a large group of Bavinyari exiles settled in Dornea and helped them fight off Imperial incursions. Jadesei Syne was among them. The humans on Bavinyar adore their war heroes, for reasons that should be obvious."
"But what about Syne and the BIL?" Fey'lya asked pointedly. "What ties does she have to human separatists?"
"Syne has a reputation as a moderate. It's why Pohl-Had-Narr picked her as vice minister in the first place.
"But potential ties will definitely be investigated," Miatamia said.
"Of course," Behn-Kihl-Nahm bowed his head.
An awkward silence fell over the room. Leia drummed her fingers on the tabletop, then said "Bennie, I assume you're going to want to go to Bavinyar for the prime minister's funeral."
"Oh, yes."
"I'm sure you'll have plenty of people to talk to." Leia glanced at Gavrisom. "Senator, I want you to go too. Bennie can go as a Bavinyari, but I want you to go as our Minister of State. Do you understand?"
"Very much, princess," Gavrisom's head bobbed on its long feathery neck. "And I assume… other represent-atives will come too?"
"If you mean security and intel people, yes. I haven't decided who just yet, but I will."
A little cautiously, Avan asked, "What does this mean for the election?" After a short, electric pause, he added, "I mean, the timetable. Should we suspend campaigning?"
That didn't do anything to take the charge out of the silence. Eyes drifted cautiously to Leia. She took a deep breath, blew it out, and said, "I'll declare a one-week pause in campaigning, in honor of Pohl-Had-Narr."
"And after that?" asked Fey'lya.
"We'll see. But I don't intend to move the timetable on the election right now."
"That is understandable," Behn-Kihl-Nahm said. "Thank you for the week, Leia."
She nodded once, grimly. "I hope that will be all we need."
-{}-
The sky over Cephalia was a crystal blue and the white clouds drifted slowly high above didn't cast a single shadow onto the island. The noon-day sun shone down brightly and over the walled-off gardens that surrounded the prime minister's estate; trumpet-flowers with gold and scarlet heads turned their faced upward to soak in the light and faint water from a brief morning shower glistened inside leaves and flower-petals that bobbed slowly on the faint refresh-ing breeze. It was another beautiful day in Bavinyar's capital city.
Aryon Ven of the Bavinyar Security Agency felt like he was being mocked. The young human was part of the team that had been combing over the estate grounds for the past five hours; they'd started almost immedi-ately after that explosion that had apparently turned most of the presidential mansion to rubble. Ven had been on the far side of the capital, in the BSA head-quarters complex, watching Senator Behn-Kihl-Nahm and the other candidates debate with a half dozen other BSA detectives, most of them Cerean, when the call had come down to rush all available staff to the prime minister's complex at once. Ven hadn't had a clue what was going on until he was in his landspeeder, racing through the city streets toward an ugly black pillar of smoke rising toward the clearing clouds.
Instead of being part of the forensic team that was searching the exploded compound, Ven had been sent to scour the gardens and walls for any signs of illicit entry. The actual investigation of the estate grounds was probably a very nasty job, but Ven would still rather be right where the action was instead of wandering through fields of tall grass and flowers, wading knee-deep through ornamental ponds, and crouching in the dirt where three-meter-high dura-crete walls met the earth.
He had to wonder whether it was because he was human instead of Cerean. He didn't like thinking about things like that but when almost all of his co-workers were Cerean, and every last one of his superiors, he had to wonder. When he'd seen that black smoke in the sky his gut reaction had been that the Bavinyar Independence League was behind it. The human separatists had made a lot of noise but never strick out at a major target before; still, everyone on Bavinyar, human and Cerean both, had long been expecting them to put action to words.
Ven had no affection or connection with the BIL, but it still had made him shirk from the gazes of the Cerean detectives, all of whose faces set into hard anger when they learned their prime minister and his family had been killed. He knew logically that he had no reason to be ashamed of what the human separ-atists had- probably- done, but he was afraid of seeing something in their eyes.
There were plenty of other good reasons to keep Ven from the front of the investigation, not the least seniority. He was only twenty-three standard years and the youngest member of the BSA investigation department on Cephalia. Still, he was a detective, and Chief Investigator Sham-Vi-Diin had sent him out to search the grass with the other patrol officers; he couldn't help but feel slighted.
He tried to put his mind off all of that and keep searching the compound. He walked along the inner rim of the walls, craning his neck back and squinting through a faceful of sunlight as he scanned the top of the barriers. A sensor network ran along the entire top of the structure, all the way around the compound, and it should have detected anyone or anything that might have tried to climb over the wall. Still, someone might have found a way to damage or modify a section of sensor relays that would have allowed them to pass. He was sure that another investigative team was pouring over all the security camera footage, but there was no way to know if that, too, hadn't been tampered with.
Ven was staring up at the wall-top when he almost tumbled face-first into the dirt. He slapped a palm against the wall to steady himself and looked down at the hole his right foot had fallen in.
It was more than a hole; the earth fell away under his foot and kept falling, deeper and deeper down a shaft that looked just wide enough for a human to slide head-and-shoulders through. Ven crouched low and looked it over; someone had attempted to cover the entrance with grasses but they hadn't tried to fill in the actual shaft.
He took out a glow-lamp from his belt and shone it down. The walls of the shaft looked as though they had been dug and packed together by some kind of droid or mechanical aid. He guessed it dropped down about four meters, which would probably have been just enough to tunnel under the walls.
He couldn't tell from his angle, but he was sure the tunnel came up again on the other side of the wall, probably in some area that was secure from prying eyes.
He first instinct was to run and tell his superiors; instead, he started scouring the area for signs of human passage. On closer examination, he saw patches of grass and plants that had been trampled, though the foliage was thick in this part of the compound and it was hard to spot anyplace where a boot had fully met dirt.
He did his best to follow the path of broken grasses. There seemed to be only one, though he had no way of knowing if a single being or multiple ones had done the job. Either way, the path was clearly leading toward the still-smoldering estate building.
Then, suddenly, it stopped. It halted outside the rim of one of the gardens' ornamental ponds. The foliage was cleared away here and Ven ducked low. He scanned the bare dirt, still moist and pliable from the morning's light rain.
He found the boot-prints; they looked a little bigger than this own soles and there was a set of them. He found the point where they stopped; these prints seemed carved a little deeper into the dirt than the others. He scanned the surrounding ground and spotted one small, sharp hole in the ground, located about a meter diagonally forward-left from the boot-prints. Then he spotted another one about a meter away from that, and then a third.
All together, they made a tripod shape in front of the last set of footprints, as though someone had mounted a portable projectile launcher in a stand before shooting it off.
The young man pulled his comlink from his vest and said, "All investigators, this is is Detective Ven. I'm in the northwest quadrant of the gardens, near the reflecting pool. Request a forensic team immediately. They need to see this."
-{}-
The morning after the presidential debate was cut short, General Etahn A'baht reported to Chief of State Organa Solo's office at dawn.
A'baht's relationship with the outgoing president of the senate was a complicated one, and always had been. A'baht had knowingly circumvented her orders during the opening stages of the Black Fleet Crisis and been removed from command, then re-installed as leader of the Fifth Fleet when the crisis turned violent. He'd never been a personal friend to her, like Admiral Ackbar, and had never become a trusted advisor like Generals Rieekan or Dodonna. Yet he was here now, and he knew exactly why.
He had only been in her personal office several times, and never at this hour of day, when dark translucent screens were lowered over the transparent windows to dim the bright morning light. Even with the dimmers, he still squinted slightly as he took his seat across Leia's desk. On the other side there was not only the small human woman, but also Senators Behn-Kihl-Nahm and Gavrisom.
"Thank you for coming promptly, General," Leia began.
"Thank you for asking my advice." A'baht sat back-straight in his chair, palms flat on his thighs, attention focused on his commander-in-chief. "I assume this is about Jadesei Syne."
"That's correct," Leia nodded. "Senators Gavrisom and Behn-Kihl-Nahm are departing for Bavinyar in two hours. We'd all like your appraisal of the planet's new prime minister before then."
A'baht allowed his gaze to shift to the Cerean. "What is your experience with Syne, if I may ask?"
"Very little, I'm afraid. I've met her several times on visits to Cephalia, but only at official functions, usually with Pohl-Had-Narr's staff. I understand you know her much better."
"Perhaps. I haven't seen her in… almost ten years."
"But she did serve with you, did she not?" asked Gavrisom.
A'baht nodded again. "Yes. She captained my flagship when I was serving the Dornean navy, and later when we joined the Republic."
"A human commanding a Dornean vessel," Leia said, apparently impressed. "That sounds unusual."
"It was, but she was raised among our people."
"How many Bavinyari refugees did Dornea take, all told?"
A'baht thought for a moment. "I would say close to sixty thousand, perhaps seventy. They came only a few years after the Clone Wars ended, after the Empire took their world. The, ah, prime minister was just a small child then. When I knew her she'd never even seen Bavinyar. And she wasn't Jadesei Syne then either. She was Jadesei Kaeori."
"I understand that she's supposed to be the daughter of a Bavinyari war hero," Leia said.
"Correct, but when I knew her, she didn't know that. Her parents died fighting the Empire, as I understand it, and the beings who raised her didn't want her to know her real parentage."
Something softened in Leia's expression. "When did she find out?"
"I think it was… twelve years ago. That was when she resigned her service and went back to Bavinyar." A'baht glanced at Behn-Kihl-Nahm. "How much of this were you aware of?"
"Some. I knew she'd served with you, and I knew she was the daughter of a dead leader." The Cerean glanced at Leia. "The Bavinyari revere her for it. It's why she's ascended so high despite being so young."
"How young?" asked Leia.
"I believe she'd about the same age as you."
"I'm not as young as I used to be," she sighed.
Perhaps she was older by human standards, but A'baht was halfway through his second century; Calibops and Cereans were also long-lived compared to humans. Leia didn't seem to realize how young she really was.
Gavrisom turned his small black eyes on A'baht and asked, "What can you tell us about Syne personally?"
"Personally? She's a very driven young woman, of course. She was always very disciplined, so she fit in well with Dorneans. She was quick to learn our language and customs, more than a lot of other Bavinyari we sheltered."
"So she works well with other species?" Behn-Kihl-Nahm asked.
"I think it didn't matter whether we were Dorneans or not. She wanted to hurt the Empire. If she had to learn our ways to do it, then she did."
"This was before she learned who her parents were, correct?" asked Gavrisom.
"That's right. You understand this is common for her generation of Bavinyari humans. They'd been brought up with stories of how the Empire conquered their home and forced them into exile."
"And yet she was more eager to learn your ways than the other humans?" Behn-Kihl-Nahm pressed, and A'baht understood why.
"I know some Bavinyari have a reputation for anti-alien bias, but she was never one of them." Before the Cerean could look too relieved, he added, "You must also understand that she is a Bavinyari patriot above all else."
"How did she feel about the New Republic when you knew her?" asked Leia.
A'baht hesitated before answering. In the time since he'd joined the New Republic's service he'd gone through a variety of opinions himself. Even now, its convoluted bureaucracy, petty politics, and cumber-some organizational structure often made him yearn for the simplicity of home.
"She left New Republic service after two years," he said carefully. "Of course, that was when she found out who her true parents were. As I said, I've barely spoken with her since." He paused, then added, "I do remember speaking to her when she resigned her New Republic commission. I tried to talk her out of it, of course."
"Was she angry about the Republic?" asked Leia.
"Not precisdely. She was angry, but… Well, it seemed almost like a non-sequitur to me, which is why I remember it. She was angry about Grand Admiral Grant."
He could see the confusion on and Leia's face. Octavian Grant, the last of the Empire's elite grand admirals, was currently living under comfortable house arrest in his villa on Rathalay. He'd surrendered to the New Republic two years after Endor and exchanged secrets for amnesty.
Behn-Kihl-Nahm's face lit up in recognition. "Ah. I think I understand now. Early in his career, before he became a Grand Admiral, Octavian Grant was instrumental in putting down Bavinyar's rebellion against the Empire. The fact that he, out of all thirteen Grand Admirals, is the only one alive rankles the human separatists."
A'baht added, "From her… speech I gathered it's just more than that for Syne."
"What else?" asked Leia.
"From what I can tell, it seems she personally blames Grant for the dead of her parents."
Leia sunk back in her chair, deflated. "And she blames us for letting Grant live?"
"I don't know how serious she is about that. The revelation of her real parentage was fresh at the time. She was… angry when we talked then, angry about many things, as well as confused. And I know that was Mon Mothma's decision to give Grant amnesty, not yours."
"And you haven't talked to her since?"
"Only a few times, briefly. Never about… politics."
"What opinions did she express before resigned her commission?" pressed Gavrisom.
"She never expressed opinions hostile to the New Republic. But like I said, she is a patriot. Bavinyar was not a part of the Old Republic. The first human settlers went there a century before the Empire to get away from central authority and they still carry those pioneer, anti-authority attitudes. I can't tell you any more than that. I don't know how the past decade has changed her and I don't know enough about Bavinyari politics to comment."
"Thank you, General, we appreciate that," Behn-Kihl-Nahm said, though he still looked troubled. "I have to ask, though. You said that she was very disciplined and made a good sailor in your navy, correct?"
"Very much so."
"Do you believe she had a… military mind?"
A'baht frowned. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Let me put it this way." The Cerean spread his hands. "The three of us on this side of the desk are politicians, ministers, diplomats. Some of us have had war experience but we're not, by nature, soldiers. You, however, are. Do you agree with that?"
"I think I understand what you're saying."
"Good. Then which side of the desk does Bavinyar's prime minister belong on? At the core, is she a diplomat, or a soldier?"
A'baht knew the answer instinctively, and he knew they wouldn't like it. "Jadesei Syne is a soldier at heart."
And he could see it on their faces, all three of them. No, they didn't like it one bit.
-{}-
Leia Organa Solo, president of the senate and chief of state of the New Republic, got back to her home an hour before noon. She'd last seen it almost a full standard day ago and hadn't slept a wink in the meantime.
She wanted nothing more than to drop into bed and get at least six hours' of sleep, and Nanaod Engh had hastily reconfigured her schedule to allow just that, but the moment she stepped through the door she was assaulted with the smells of hot caf and nerf stew mixed with Corellian spices.
She staggered into the kitchen. "Han, is that you?"
"Well, who else would it be?" her husband said as he turned away from the stovetop and spread his arms wide. There he was all right: Han Solo, infamous smuggler and rogue, with a spoon in one hand and a pale patterned apron around his waist.
Leia was too tired to laugh, but she sunk into the nearest seat with a soundless smile on her face. Han shuffled over and placed the steaming caf in front of her, but she waved it off, saying, "Save it for later. Right now I need sleep." When he looked offended, she added, "I need a good meal, and then sleep."
"Coming right up, Princess," Han said, and went back to the stove. "It's already ready."
A minute later they were sitting across from each other, eating hot stew and sipping from glasses of cool, clean water. The kitchen of their residence had a built-in dome overhead, and noon sunlight spilled down through the filtered transparisteel. It made the whole room look wide and open and empty.
When she'd first left this place after taking leave of the Chief of State's office after the Corellian Crisis, she'd had Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin with her. When she came back the kids had all gone off the Yavin 4. Even Chewbacca was visiting his family on Kashyyyk more often than not lately. With just her and Han there now, the place often felt too big, too lonely.
Still, if she was going to be alone with anyone, she was glad it was Han. He waited, waited until she'd chewed through half her meal in silence and gotten her stomach full and warm as it hadn't been in over a standard day before he said, "I saw the news. You suspended campaigning. And you're sending Bennie and Gavrisom over there."
She nodded, silently thankful Han hadn't referred to her Minister of State by his usual nickname. "Bennie has to go. And Gavrisom sends the right message."
"What about Fey'lya?"
Leia spooned another chunk of nerf meat into her mouth and said, "What about him?"
"Letting him have free run over here while Bennie's off on Bavinyar? I bet he'll find a way to spin that to his advantage."
"I'm sure he'll try."
When she didn't say anything more, Han pressed, "Well, what do you plan on doing about him? We can't let him muck this thing up, not when there's so much at stake."
"Han, I think this situation is plenty mucked up even without Borsk. Bavinyar's been politically unstable ever since the Empire fell and the exiles started coming back. He can stir a lot of pots here on Coruscant but what happens on Bavinyar isn't about him."
"Who is it about, then? Bennie? You? This new prime minister, Syne?"
Leia smiled a little. "You really did watch all the newscasts, didn't you?"
"Well, in between cooking, yeah. Didn't want to miss anything important."
She reached out across the table and squeezed his hand. "I appreciate that. Really."
"Glad to hear it." Han smirked. "And don't worry. I clean every up to while you catch your beauty sleep."
She took her hand away and began working on her food again. As she chewed on another chunk of nerf beef, Han asked, "Are Bennie and Puffers already gone?"
Leia swallowed, restrained an eye-roll, and said, "I saw them off to Westport before coming here. Once I get some shut-eye I'm off to sit in on Miatamia's security council meeting."
She hesitated. Han raised an eyebrow. "Somewhere else you gotta be after that?"
"I'm not sure." She was better at being evasive when she wasn't so damned tired.
"What's going on, Princess?"
She sighed and said, "What's happening on Bavinyar isn't something new. The roots of this go back to even before the Empire fell. Jadesei Syne is, apparently, the daughter of one of their war heroes who died fighting the Empire."
"Yeah, I knew they were rebels from back before the Rebel Alliance was a thing. Heard they never let you forget it, the human settlers."
"They're proud of it. They should be. Han, when I was growing up on Alderaan, my father told me stories about the Bavinyar martyrs. He said that when the rest of the galaxy was getting rolled over by Palpatine's war machine, that one little planet put up the best fight of anyone."
"Yeah, and they got their planet conquered and their people scattered all over."
"Exactly. To people who wanted to stand up against the Empire, the Bavinyari were these… tragic heroes. That was what it was like on Alderaan. To these people like Syne who grew up in exile, hearing about their lost world and their martyrs..."
"I get your point. It is, I guess, pretty romantic, if you're into lost causes. But you're not going to Bavinyar, right?"
"I don't think so. Not now, at least. I think I need to go somewhere else."
"Are you gonna keep me in suspense or will you just say it?"
She breathed out and said, "I think I need to go to Yavin 4. Talk to Luke."
"That's it?" Han looked confused and disappointed at once.
Maybe, she thought. She hoped so. "I think I'm going to need his advice."
Han's eyebrows drew together. "You think you want to get the Jedi involved in this?"
"I'm not sure. I'm not sure what this is going to be. But I think I'd like my brother's counsel right now."
"Are you sure it's okay to leave Coruscant right now? What did Engh say?"
"What you'd imagine," she said wearily. Nanaod Engh was a first-rate chief of staff: eternally organized and level-headed, able to balance all the functions of democracy, public relations, and bureaucracy at once. He was also not a man who took derivations from the norm well.
"But he's letting you go?"
"Nanaod doesn't let me do anything, Han. After a lot of questions and frowning he agreed to watch over everything here."
"Did you tell him to watch over Fey'lya?"
"That would have been… inappropriate." She leaned a little closer and said in a stage whisper, "That's what Cal and Avan agreed to do."
Han smirked. "Glad you're not taking your eye off the little furball."
"Han, you know me better than that. Anyway, I shouldn't be gone long."
"Okay." Han placed both hands on the tabletop. "Fine. I'll prep the Falcon. We'll leave when you're done with the council meeting."
"Oh, Han, please-"
"Hey, I've got the fastest ferry service in the galaxy. Doesn't even cost the taxpayer any money and it takes you where you want to go, no questions asked, no explanations needed. Besides, you think I'm gonna pass up my chance to see the kids? I spend about as much time with 'em as you lately."
Tired as she was, she smiled. "All right, then. Go prep your ship, Captain. Just as soon as you clean the dishes."
-{}-
When Sham-Vi-Diin, chief of the Cephalia Homocide Department, reported to the offices of Bavinyar Security Agency Director Korr-Mad-Narr, he came prepared to give a long, thorough presentation outlining everything they'd uncovered during their day-long investigation of the attack that had killed the prime minister. He laid out the sequence of the investigation, then the preliminary findings, including the as-yet-unproven-but-high-likely scenario that an anonymous infiltrator has tunneled under the wall and fired a single tripod-mounted surface-to-surface warhead from a portable launcher that destroyed the estate and killed the prime minister. He was about to go into the further plan of investigation when Korr-Mad-Narr held up a hand and bid him to stop.
"That's enough for now, Chief," the older Cerean said. He saw seated behind his desk while Sham-Vi-Diin stood on the other side; almost absently, the director turned his chair to look out his window at the old white-stone buildings and newer glass towers that made up the capital's skyline.
Korr-Mad-Narr looked almost peaceful, but Sham-Vi-Diin knew better. The director and Pohl-Had-Narr had come from the same prestigious family line, as evidenced by the marker of their shared grandfather present in both their names. Korr-Mad-Narr hadn't always approved of the political stances his cousin had taken, but clan loyalty was still strong among Cereans.
Korr-Mad-Narr allowed the tiniest sigh and said, still looking at the skyline, "I'm going to put you up in front of the holocams, Chief. You're going to tell them everything you just told me."
Sham-Vi-Diin tried to hide his discomfort. He'd never sought the public eye and now every eye in the New Republic would be on him. "Will you be addressing them too, Director?"
"I will. I'll introduce you as the lead investigator on this case." Korr-Mad-Narr swung his chair back around and looked the detective in the eye. "Will that be a problem?"
It was hardly a question a Cerean could say no to. Sham-Vi-Diin nodded and said, "Not at all."
"You won't be alone. What was the name of the human who found the entry tunnel and the foot-prints?"
"Aryon Ven, sir."
"If he one of yours?"
"He's a detective, yes. Our newest."
"Young, then?"
"Yes, sir." He tried to recall his subordinate's personnel file. "I believe he was born after the first Death Star was destroyed."
"So young." Korr-Mad-Narr looked satisfied. "Chief, I want you to keep this detective at your side for the whole investigation. Is that understood? He's to be your partner, and the other half of our public face."
Sham-Vi-Diin understood quite well. By putting the gray-bearded old Cerean and the smooth-faced blonde young human on the news networks, he was at once presenting a unified face behind the investigation, and a clear sign of Cerean seniority.
Ven was young but not a fool. He'd see the same.
"Sir," asked Sham-Vi-Diin, "When I talk to the news networks I'm sure they'll ask me about suspects. What should I tell them?"
"Are you asking whether you should mention the BIL?"
Sham-Vi-Diin nodded.
Korr-Mad-Narr shook his head. "Say that we're looking at all possibilities and can't make any more statements at this time. But believe me, Chief, we'll be putting everything we can into breaking the BIL."
"Understood, sir." Sham-Vi-Diin halted, then added, "What about Syne?"
"What about Syne?"
It had been a stupid thing to say; Sham-Vi-Diin realized. He'd come halfway to accusing the incoming Prime Minister in having a hand in her predecessor's assassination. There was no evidence to the fact, and it had been stupid to suggest. Syne had a reputation as a moderate, but she was still human, and with humans- especially Bavinyari ones- you could never be too sure. Doubt gnawed at his guts, and it surely gnawing in Korr-Mad-Narr's as well.
"Nothing," he said finally. "Nothing at all."
"You're one of our most veteran investigators, Sham," Korr-Mad-Narr said sternly. "You'll conduct yourself as professionally as possible and you will be seen conducting yourself that way. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Sham-Vi-Diin said, and in a way it was a relief. This whole situation seemed like a nightmare waiting to unfold, and as much as he wanted to learn the full truth behind the prime minister's assassin-ation and see justice done, he knew the political situation was just waiting to spiral out of control. If he had Korr-Mad-Narr willing to shoulder that part of it, well, he was happy to be just a face for the holo-cams.
He just hoped it stayed that way.
The director glancing at his desktop chrono and said, "Cameras start rolling in thirty minutes. Head down to level sixteen, Chief. We're going to pretty you up for the press."