Behn-Kihl-Nahm had flown back and forth between Bavinyar and Coruscant too many times to count. This time, it felt very different. He hadn't been gone long, but it felt like everything had changed.

He'd started a good thirty years ago, when he'd gone to the Imperial Senate, Palpatine's great rubber stamp, to serve as the Ryndellian Sector's representative. Young, inexperiences, and non-human, he'd been possibly the most useless member of a useless body, but at least he'd gained experience with law, diplo-macy, and politics that had carried him through the Rebellion and into the creation of a New Republic. And all the while, he'd kept coming back to Bavinyar for short sporadic home-comings, watching it change. He'd watched the capital city of Cephalia grow larger and larger as its Cerean settler population grew. He'd seen the human exiles return to find their homeworld changed; they'd started as a trickle after Palpatine died and only become a flood after the defeat of Thrawn and the cloned Emperor.

He and Minister Gavrisom set down on Maressa, the spaceport island immediately south of Cephalia, and took the new rail transport into the capital. When he'd been growing up, the buildings there had mostly been made of white stone, quarried from the island chain directly north. It had been a handsome, almost quaint city. Now, high metal-and-glass skyscrapers jutted high over the white domes and vaulted rooftops of the city. On a day like this, when the sun shone clear through the warm equatorial air, all of Cephalia seemed to shine.

"I admit I am impressed, Senator," Gavrisom said as he peered out the window. "I have seen holos of your city, of course, but I had no idea it was so… beautiful."

"This is all very new," Behn-Kihl-Nahm explained. "All of these high buildings are only possible because of Bavinyar's new mining industry."

"Yes, I understand that has, ah, taken flight recently."

"When the Cereans were settled on Bavinyar, a lot of us took to farming," Behn-Kihl-Nahm explained. "My family was one of them. Many of the larger islands are volcanic and have very rich soil. For a long time, Bavinyar was mostly an agricultural planet. That was how the first human settlers had lived, and that's how we lived, for a while.

"When the humans started coming back, a lot of them wanted to resume farming, but, well, we Cereans had already been cultivating that land for decades. A lot of the humans see us as squatters, which I never thought about growing up, but in a way they're right."

"I understand that your government made no move to reapportion farmland to the old human owners."

"Our civilian government has always been Cerean, until now." Behn-Kihl-Nahm said under his breath. "The ministers before Pohl-Hadd-Nar were very… entrenched. They wouldn't give back any land to the humans, and the humans had to make settlements on newer islands, harsher islands, closer to the south pole."

"Any attempt to reapportion land would have been very difficult," Gavrisom said. "After all, so many of the original owners were killed fighting the Empire. Land would have to be doled out to children, grandchildren, nephews and nieces."

"I know. And instead of trying to sort that out, we sent the humans to live on the southern islands… And that's where they found the chromicite deposits."

"Fortune smiled on them after all."

"In a way. More and more humans came back to make money at the mines, but a lot of them hold a grudge at not getting their old islands back. Bavinyar is still a very segregated world, Minister. The only place where Cereans and humans really mix in the streets is Cephalia."

Gavrisom blew out a nasal sigh, and the crest of feathers on his head rose up. "Then we shall have to take this place as our example."

"I'm not sure if it's much of an example any more."

Once their maglev train arrived at Cephalia's central station, a local group came to meet the delegation, which aside from Behn-Kihl-Nahm and Gavrisom also included a half-dozen civilian support staff, and three investigators from New Republic Intelligence.

Of the three, only Colonel Ejagga Pakkpekatt identified himself as such. The colonel was a Hortek, standing over two meters tall with an armored hide and a dragon-like face that made him absolutely unmistakable on a planet filled with humans and Cereans. Horteks were also known to be mildly telepathic and therefore prized by the NRI's investig-ation units. There was no hiding Pakkpekatt's identity, but he also made it easier for his two human assistants to disguise themselves as Gavrisom's diplomatic aides.

Behn-Kihl-Nahm was glad to see the greeting party was a mix of Cereans and humans. He did not see Jadesei Syne among them, but hadn't expected her to come out into the open like this.

Instead, he and Gavrisom got to shake hands with General Harbin Kaice, chief of the Bavinyar Defense Forces. He was a stout human with broad shoulders, bristling black hair, and a brown leathery face. Even when he smiled politely his eyes were dark. He was military, through and through.

"I'm glad the Republic decided to send represent-atives for the memorial ceremony," Kaice said.

"Minister Gavrisom and his team represent the Republic," Behn-Kihl-Nahm said. "I'm here as a citizen of Bavinyar."

"Of course." Kaice glanced at a pair of beings in blue BSA uniforms standing over his left shoulder. He said, "These are Sham-Vi-Diin and Aryon Ven. They are in charge of investigating Pohl-Hadd-Nar's death."

Death, Behn-Kihl-Nahm noted. A more neutral term than assassination or murder. He turned his attention to the two investigators. Sham-Vi-Diin was a little short for a Cerean, but his head still peaked high above that of his partner. The blonde-haired human struck Behn-Kihl-Nahm as rather young even for human standards. That the government would pair a human and a Cerean to investigate the assassination was obvious; that the Cerean was clearly the senior officer struck Behn-Kihl-Nahm as a deliberate choice too.

"I'm eager to talk about what you've uncovered so far," he told them.

Kaice cleared his throat. "Right now, I believe we should take you to the quarters we've prepared for your team. We can speak on the way."

"Thank you, General," Gavrisom said. "And, please pardon my memory, but when will the ceremony for Pol-Hadd-Narr take place?"

"Tomorrow morning," the general said, "In approximately fifteen hours."

"Very good. We shall even have time to rest."

After that, they were placed in a secure hovercar and spirited through Cephalia's streets. The transparisteel windows were tinted dark and mirror-like from the outside, and it made the streets they passed seem dim and vague. When he normally came back to Bavinyar, Behn-Kihl-Nahm simply took an unprotected speeder. The sudden change in security procedures was jarring and unsettling. He listened only half-attentively as General Kaice explained the security procedures of the ceremony tomorrow to Gavrisom. The Cerean investig-ator, he noticed, had been placed in the second car with Colonel Pakkpekatt and some of the diplomatic staff, including the undercover NRI agents. Perhaps Sham-Vi-Diin had been charged with sniffing them out; if so, the Hortek would make for an imposing counterpart.

That left Behn-Kihl-Nahm to speak with the younger investigator, Aryon Ven. He leaned forward in his seat so he could look the blonde-haired human in the eye.

"Tell me," he said, "What do you know the the Prime Minister's assassination?"

"We haven't released much to the public yet," Ven said. He glanced at Kaice, who'd stopped his explanation the moment he'd heard Behn-Kihl-Nahm speak.

Ven and Kaice belonged to totally separate divisions of government, but the younger human still seemed to defer to the older one. The awkward pause lasted only a second though; Ven's eyes darted back to Behn-Kihl-Nahm's and he said, "We were able to analyze debris left behind after the attack, including projectile casing from the missile. The Prime Minister's home was hit with a shoulder-mounted Merr-Sonn launcher, commonly used by New Republic infantry."

That was a bad start. "Was it launched from outside the Prime Minister's compound? My understanding is that those launchers only have a limited range before accuracy tails off, and the space around the compound should have been secured for blocks in every direction."

Ven nodded. "We believe the assailant managed to sneak into the secure area."

"With a shoulder-mounted missile launcher? I hope you're interrogating everyone on the staff that night."

"Believe me, Senator, we are."

Behn-Kihl-Nahm sighed and said, "I assume you're looking at the BIL too."

"That's right. They haven't claimed responsibility for the attack, but, well..." He trailed off, as though embarrassed by his fellow humans.

"I understand." Behn-Kihl-Nahm paused, then asked, "Have you looked into the Patriotic Front?"

"What would the CPF have to gain from killing Pohl-Had-Narr?" asked Kaice.

"Yes, and I know some of my people regarded Pohl-Had-Narr as too… moderate. They may be trying to force a confrontation."

"The BSA has… investigations into both groups," Ven said awkwardly. "That's beyond my need to know, so I couldn't say anything even if I were allowed."

"I understand. Thank you." Behn-Kihl-Nahm placed a hand on the young human's knee. "We're all citizens of Bavinyar. That means we're all in this together."

"Of course. Together," Ven said, though he didn't meet the senator's eyes.

-{}-

As their armored BSA speeder raced through the streets of Cephalia, Sham-Vi-Diin tried hard not to let the Hortek sitting in front of him consume all his attention. It took some effort; compared to all the other humans and Cereans in the speeder, Pakkpekatt stood out: for his size, for his thick-plated skin, for his slit-like reptilian eyes and sharp predator's teeth. Sham-Vi-Diin had heard that Horteks possessed mild telepathic skills, and he had a feeling that if asked, the NRI agent would neither confirm nor deny.

Despite his large size and intimidating appearance, Pakkpekatt seemed intent on conducting himself like a proper officer. He was saying, "I assure you, Detective, my resources are your disposal. We'll provide you with any help you need in tracking down the culprit behind the Prime Minister's assassination."

"I quite appreciate that," Sham-Vi-Diin said, though he wondered how far it would really go. Director Korr-Mad-Narr had assured the detective that the convoluted galactic-scale political ramifications of this whole mess wouldn't fall on his shoulders; even then, Sham-Vi-Diin hadn't really believed it.

The Hortek's head swiveled on its long neck, and he looked out one tinted viewport, then the other. He asked, "How much of a presence does the BIL have in this city?"

"Some, but their power base is in the islands inhabited by humans, mostly in the southern hemisphere."

"Interesting. I reviewed the files on their leadership structure. Apparently their spokesperson and head is a man named Aviran Kolin."

"That's right. I understand he used to fight for the Rebel Alliance many years ago." He realized how bad that sounded, then added, "Of course, so did many others, including Prime Minister Syne."

"I've heard the minister has a reputation as a moderate. Do you think that's true?"

In truth, Sham-Vi-Diin didn't know much about Syne at all. He didn't follow politics more closely than the average citizen and investigating people with BIL was far outside the purview of a city homicide detective. Figuring Pakkapekatt might be trying to pry some-thing out of him, either verbally or telepathically, he decided on a noncommittal response, saying, "I don't think Pol-Hadd-Narr would have chosen her as vice minister if he didn't think he could work with her."

Pakkpekatt nodded. "I see. So tell me, Kolin hasn't made a statement claiming responsibility for the assassination, has he?"

Sham-Vi-Diin blinked. "I don't believe so, no."

"Don't you think that's curious?"

"He probably figures that an announcement like that will bring the entire New Republic down on him," Sham-Vi-Diin said, then added, "If the BIL is respon-sible."

"Do you think it is?" asked Pakkpekatt pointedly.

The Cerean gave a diplomatic reply. "We haven't seen conclusive evidence either way."

Pakkpekatt's mouth hung open, baring long fangs. It looked threatening the but the hissing sound from the Hortek's throat sounded almost amused. He said, "Tell me, Detective, how is it you are leading this investig-ation? Does the BSA not have any counter-terrorism people they could set on this? I don't mean offense, I'm simply curious."

"None taken. I have some… experience in that field as well. Military forensics, at any rate."

A fan-like crest inflated along the back of Pakk-pekatt's curved spine. Sham-Vi-Diin decided that once he got access to a data terminal he was going to look up primers on Hortek body language, because right now he was all kinds of confused. Which may, he suspected, have been the intention all along.

"Where did you learn this?" the NRI agent asked. "During the war with the Empire?"

Sham-Vi-Diin hesitated; he knew it was pointless. His service record was fully public, and if he really wanted to know, Pakkpekatt could easily look it up. He said, "When I was younger, I worked for Bavinyar's local planetary defense militia."

"The BDF?"

"No. The BDF is made up of humans who once fought for the Rebel Alliance. Before that, we had a Cerean militia." He met the Hortek's intimidating eyes and tried not to flinch. "It was trained and managed by the Empire."

The Hortek's crest flared once, then settled down along his spine. "Ah. I understand now."

"I wanted to protect my homeworld. I did it the only way I could. I was as glad when the Empire died as anyone," he said, and he made himself believe it as he spoke. Deep down, though, there were times when a tiny part of him mourned the end of Imperial rule. Part of it was just an old Cerean's nostalgia; at the same time, things had been much simpler, much safer on Bavinyar before the humans started coming back. It had been just a quiet, stable world, far from the intrigues of galactic politics.

Maybe the Hortek could read his unspoken, buried reticence. Hopefully he couldn't. Pakkpekatt gave no sign either way. He asked, "Did you ever see any direct military combat?"

"No. And no major civil unrest either. I'm praying I still won't."

Pakkpekatt bobbed his head and looked out the window at the white cityscape flashing by. "Detective, we all share your prayers."

-{}-

The sun had just come up over Yavin 4 and was burning mist off the surface of the jungle when the Millennium Falcon arrived.

When the landing ramp came down, Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin went first to greet their parents. Han Solo wrapped his daughter in a hug and mussed her hair while Jacen and Anakin, both now taller than their mother, took turns hugging Leia.

Luke Skywalker stood on the edge of it all, watching with an unreadable smile, until Leia went to greet him.

She wrapped her arms around her brother's shoulders, pushed herself onto her toes, and kissed him once on the cheek, but when she pulled away, her face was serious, and so was Uncle Luke's.

"Hey," Han said as he stood with an arm draped on Jaina's shoulder, "Kids, you want to take a look at the Falcon? We did some refit jobs on the thrust engines before Chewie went back to Kashyyyk."

Jaina ran a hand through her long brown hair and said, "Actually, I was kinda hoping you could help me with a project Lowie and I have been working on.

"Getting ambitious? That's my girl. Is it the Lightning Rod?"

"Nope. Rock Dragon."

"Wouldn't mind fixing up another princess' ship. Lead the way, sweetheart. Anakin, Jacen, you guys should come too."

Anakin piped agreement, but Jacen's eyes lingered worryingly on his mother and uncle until Jaina stepped up and tugged on his shoulder. "Come on, Jace. We can catch up with Mom later. They've got stuff they need to do."

Leia, a little flustered, turned to her children. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to be rude. It's just that-"

"We totally understand, Mom," Jaina said, and tugged Jacen's arm again. This time he followed.

Leia felt a small but acute sense of helplessness as she watched her children traipse out of the hangar, leaving her alone with Luke. "They're growing up fast," she whispered, half to herself. "

"Do you feel like you're missing it all?" asked Luke.

Leia sighed and hugged herself. "I just wish I got to see them more often."

"Have you and Han thought about moving here once your term is up? Or is Yavin 4 too isolated for you?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know what the future's going to bring. It might depend on how the election goes."

It was as good as admitting, It depends on whether Borsk or Bennie wins. Of course, her brother probably didn't need Force powers to tell him that. Anyone in the galaxy could have guessed it.

"Once you step down," Luke said, "Do you want to stay on as Alderaan's representative?"

"No. Cal Omas can take my place as the senior senator. He's more than ready." She sighed again. "I'm ready to be done with politics, Luke. The problem is that politics aren't done with me."

"For the moment. I'm hoping we can get through this problem with Bavinyar."

She picked her head and and looked at him. "You know that's why I came here, right?"

"Walk with me," Luke said.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her away from the hangar. As they began to walk through the dark old stone tunnels Leia's mind couldn't help but reel back a quarter-century to when she'd first come to this jungle moon after her escape from the Death Star with men who she'd hardly imagined would end up her brother and husband.

"It was all so simple then, wasn't it?" She couldn't help but sound wistful.

"I wouldn't get nostalgic," Luke said, knowing her meaning. "We almost all died. Biggs and a lot of other good pilots did."

"I know. And I'm not nostalgic for the old days," she said, not really knowing if it was true. "But you have to admit it was simpler. The Empire had to be destroyed. We had to kill it or be killed ourselves. We never had any doubts."

"Well, none of us are rebels any more."

Leia nodded as Luke led them out of the hallway and into the open. The hot, damp jungle air dampened her skin but despite it, she felt good. She walked to the edge of the platform they were on and looked out at the jungle and the red sphere of Yavin half-visible through the humid sky. She looked down at the broad clearing in front of the Great Temple where they'd once loaded starfighters and transports to go fight the Death Star. Now, a handful of Jedi students were practicing light-saber sparring far below.

Gently, Luke said, "If you've come to ask for something, Leia, ask for it."

She sighed. "Oh, Luke, I don't know what I'm asking for. I'm not going to ask for a bunch of Jedi peacekeepers to go to Bavinyar and make everyone behave." She glanced over her shoulder and added, "You don't have to look so relieved."

Luke chuckled lightly. "Sorry. I never expected you to make that request anyway."

"Luke, what are your Jedi for? You've spent over a decade training students, good students, but we've never really decided what your new Jedi Order is going to do."

"It's a hard question. Mon Mothma once told me she wanted Jedi integrated into society on every level. But we don't have nearly enough Jedi, not even if we wanted to place just one person in every sector."

"In the Old Republic, Jedi were peacekeepers."

"In the Old Republic, the Jedi were destroyed for precisely that reason," Luke said. The details of the fall of the Jedi order were still not entirely clear to him despite the information he'd picked up from Obi-Wan and Yoda, from his vanished lover Callista and from other stories he'd heard in his long travels through the galaxy. Palpatine had been very thorough at scrubbing the old Order's history from public record and promoting his own anti-Jedi propaganda, but it was clear that the Jedi had acted at the behest of Republic's Chancellor… until that Chancellor became a Sith Lord and had them all eliminated at the end of the Clone Wars. Luke was determined not to make the same mistakes again.

"This is a difficult situation, Luke. We have to be very carefully about how we're seen. The whole galaxy knows we're brother and sister. They also know we're Darth Vader's children. If I did call for some kind of Jedi peacekeeping force it would look like nepotism at best, or something a whole lot worse. Right now, our relationship is more political than ever."

"I don't think you came all the way here just to ask me for nothing."

"No. I did want to talk. The question is what we're going to get from all this. A lot of it's going to depend how Bennie and Gavrisom fare, and how they size up against the new Bavinyari minister, Syne."

"If you're not thinking about sending Jedi peace-keepers, we could send just one or two mediators."

"Yes, that's what I was thinking," Leia nodded. "Preferably someone with diplomatic experience outside the Jedi Order. Is Cilghal here?"

She was disappointed when Luke shook his head; the Mon Calamari ambassador-turned-Jedi had been one of her most helpful allies during the Diversity Alliance crisis and was a wise counselor on politics in general.

"Cilghal's still mediating that dispute in the Centrality," he said, naming an isolated, old sector of the galaxy that remained apart from the New Republic. "However, Tresk Im'nel is on Yavin 4 right now."

Leia already knew Im'nel; the brown-furred Bothan had plenty of experience as a New Republic diplomat. As with Cilghal, it had been Leia who first recognized his Force proclivities and directed him to her brother's attention.

Still, she hesitated. Luke clearly saw it. "Is it because Tresk was once Fey'lya's ally?"

"It's not that I don't trust him. He and Borsk haven't been on good terms in years, ever since he switched careers. And he's a good negotiator."

"And a good Jedi," Luke reminded her.

"I know. But it's because he and Borsk used to be allies, then had a split. I'm not sure how it would look."

"How what would look?" Luke crossed his arms. "What does Fey'lya have to do with Bavinyar?"

"Nothing, but the election has a lot to do with Bavinyar."

"If Fey'lya starts arguing that you brought a Jedi to help the peace process just so you could mess with his political campaign, it will only make him look petty."

Luke was right, it would. But Fey'lya might spin it to his advantage anyway and convince everyone he was a victim of some Jedi conspiracy. Again and again, her brother had shown he didn't have the mind to grasp dirty politics. She normally liked that about him, but sometimes it was exasperating.

"If you like," Luke said, "We can talk to Tresk about it and see what he thinks."

Leia nodded. "Okay. I figure it's worth a shot. Lead the way."

Luke nodded, and she followed him back inside the old stone halls of the Great Temple.

-{}-

Despite having arrived more than half a standard day ahead of the memorial ceremony for Pohl-Had-Narr, the New Republic delegation was not able to meet with the new prime minister beforehand. Behn-Kihl-Nahm tried not to show his dissatisfaction with the fact. Jadesei Syne was very busy, of course, but she'd also known about this delegation, and its timing, for days, and it all seemed like a calculated snub from someone who had to know that getting in good graces with Coruscant was a top priority.

At the very least, Behn-Kihl-Nahm and Gavrisom were given prime seats for the ceremony. It was taking place in the center of Cephalia's central park. As laid out by the planet's original human settlers over a century ago, the park stretched two kilometers wide and three deep in the middle of the city. A white stone monument had been erected in honor of all the settlers who had died during the voyage to and colonization of the planet; the high obelisk had survived Imperial conquest and had been adopted by the wave of Cerean settlers as a symbol of their own resilience. On a world where every island, every corporation, every gesture seemed coded to one race or another, this one monument was something both sides could claim and respect.

So, Behn-Kihl-Nahm thought, it was a good gesture. A good start. He and Gavrisom were seated on the stands at the base of the monument, looking out on the speaker's podium and, beyond that, the throngs of people. He'd never seen the park this full; he could barely spot any patches of green grass between the monument and the park's edge. The ceremony hadn't started yet and they were a nosy crowd. Some seemed to be marching, others singings. Some people in the distance seemed to be banging drums. In such a chaotic mess of beings he had a hard time telling Cereans from humans; it all seemed a jumble. As long as the blue-uniformed BSA officers interspersed throughout the crowd kept the peace, Behn-Kihl-Nahm saw that mingling as a good sign.

Gavrisom leaned close and whispered in his ear, "Do you hear that? They're about to begin."

Behn-Kihl-Nahm blinked. "Begin what?"

Before the Calibop answered he heard it: the whine of distant thrust engines. He pivoted and looked behind and upward. He spotted them just as they came soaring low over the park: five T-wing fighters, hulls painted a dazzling ocean-blue. The fighters trailed streams of white smoke, and as they passed over the park they corkscrewed around each other, spiraling their smoke-trails before breaking off in five directions.

The crowd applauded, seemingly in unison, but someone kept on beating those drums in the distance.

The clapping faded as General Kaice, in his brown-and-gold BDF dress uniform, stepped up to the podium. The human leaned in close over the micro-phone; when he cleared his throat it echoed over dozens of loudspeakers posted on high pillars across the park.

The general said, "We have come here today as Bavinyari to remember one of our own. Prime Minister Pohl-Had-Narr was a being who believed in this world. He believed in its people. He believed that we could come together from all walks of life, from all the distant stars, and build a better Bavinyar, together."

That drew a ripple of applause, and Kaice paused for it to run its course. When it had, he said, "At this time, Pohl-Had-Narr's chosen Vice Minister a successor, Jadesei Syne, would like to say a few words."

Kaice stepped aside to another round of applause, but Behn-Kihl-Nahm could also make out the sound of angry boos. Those far-off drums seemed to be beating even louder.

Behn-Kihl-Nahm leaned forward just a little as the new Prime Minister stepped up to the podium. He was taken aback to see her, too, dressed in the gold-and-brown BDF uniform. He knew she'd had a commission, just as she'd fought for the Dorneans and New Republic, but he'd always seen her in formal civilian garb.

Syne stood in the middle of a BDF honor guard in the same uniforms, six on either side with ceremonial slug-thrower rifles hanging off their shoulders. As a Cerean, he found the image chilling. The BSA had made progress in creating a racially mixed police force, but the BDF was undeniably a human-led, human-run organization, viewed with lingering mistrust by most Cereans. The sight before them now would do little to calm anxieties.

Syne herself was a small woman, hardly intimidating physically, with a round face and long black hair tied at the back of her neck. She stood at the podium for a moment, head lifted high, like she was scanning all the thousands of faces in the crowd before her. Then she said, "It is with great sadness that I stand before you today. Pohl-Had-Narr was an inspiration to us all, and just he united us in life he unites us now in grief."

Behn-Kihl-Nahm released a breath. At least she seemed intent on saying the right things.

"When Pohl-Had-Narr came to me and asked me to be his Vice Minister," she continued, "I have to admit that I was surprised. I was even skeptical. Because I grew up a soldier, I had never held politicians in high esteem. I examined our interactions for some signs of duplicity or ulterior motive.

"I now feel ashamed of that. I understand now, perhaps too late, that Pohl-Had-Narr had only one goal in mind: the creation of a unified Bavinyar. The ones who struck against him like cowards in the night, the ones who cruelly murdered not just the Prime Minister but his family and friends, they sought to tear us apart. They thought that one act of savagery could rend the fabric of our society and turn Bavinyari against Bavinyari. In doing so they've showed their contempt for us all.

"I stand before you today to tell you to not let them succeed. I will not let them. I will not dishonor the trust of the man who who trusted me."

That brought a round of applause from the audience. It washed across the park and Behn-Kihl-Nahm found himself joining in. Syne paused, head held high, and waited for it to subside. In the distance, someone was pounding those drums faster and faster.

When she was finally ready, Syne said, "Before we look to the future we should remember the past. We should remember the kind of being Pohl-Had-Narr was, so that we might better carry on his legacy."

As Syne continued to speak of Pohl-Had-Narr, Behn-Kihl-Nahm noticed that the drumming had ceased, as though it had built itself to a climax and abruptly stopped. He saw figures jostling their way through the crowd, as though they were trying to edge closer to the podium. Syne went on as though she didn't seem them but the honor guards lined to either side of her tensed; a few unslung their rifles and clasped them in both arms.

"Pohl-Had-Narr felt called to politics at a young age," Syne was saying, "when Bavinyar was still under the heel of Imperial oppression. Unlike so many, he-"

"Justice!" someone whooped from the front of the crowd, "Justice for blood!"

Behn-Kihl-Nahm saw something small arcing through the air. It landed on the platform and bounced once before the guard closest to Syne threw himself on it. His body only partially muffled the explosion; a flash of light blinded Behn-Kihl-Nahm; a roar deafened his ears and smoke filled his lungs. He struggled to his feet only for the familiar feeling of Gavrisom's prehensile feather-trips to grab him by both shoulders and pull him to the ground. As his face smashed against the cold metal of the bench he could make out the sharp tang of blaster-fire. He'd never been a soldier but he still recognized the familiar sound of classic BlasTech E-11 rifles, the Empire's favorite. After the first volley of E-11 fire a barrage of thunder cracked through the air. People started running, screaming. There was another burst of thunder, and only then did Behn-Kihl-Nahm realize the sound was coming from the honor guards' ceremonial slug-thrower rifles.

The second round seemed to have been enough; no more shots were fired. When he realized that Gavrisom was no longer holding him down, Behn-Kihl-Nahm rose to his feet and surveyed the scene.

The crowd was still trying to get as far away from the podium as possible. A half-dozen bodies were left behind by the stampede: one human and five Cereans. He couldn't tell who had been shot and who had not. He shifted his attention to the podium; two guards were helping Syne rise on wobbling legs. Blood was running down her forehead, streaking red down her ash-coated face, but she didn't look critically damaged. Another guard was helping General Kaice stand; the human was clutching a blaster-wound on his shoulder. A few centimeters closer to his heart and he'd have been dead.

Behn-Kihl-Nahm heard alarm wailing in the distance, and the roar of the T-wings making another low pass. The drums had stopped.

Gavrisom placed his wingtip on Behn-Kihl-Nahm's shoulder. The Cerean gave a start, and spun around to look at the minister's black, unreadable avian eyes.

"We must speak to the Princess," he said, "Right away."