The Solo Residence—which had recently become the Solo-Celchu residence by necessity—was typically a loud, boisterous place full of warmth and tantalizing smells. During the day, Winter and Leia worked in their joint office in the apartment or in Leia's Senatorial suite set deeper into the Skyhook, while Tycho spent his days at Home Fleet's Starfighter academy, hosted aboard the aging Victory-class Star Destroyer Swift Liberty. That left Han and Chewbacca—and their Noghri bodyguards Cakhmaim and Meewalh—home to raise not just two toddlers, but two toddlers and an infant not yet one year old. Right now, Chewbacca was away visiting his family on Kashyyyk and the Noghri were being their usual, alarmingly invisible selves.

Han had to admit, though, little Mia Celchu was cute. Not as adorable and talented as his kids, but still cute. She was also currently in her father's arms, and, miracle of miracles, she was sleeping—though everyone in the room had his voice low to try and keep it that way. Especially since Jacen and Jaina were attempting their own afternoon nap in the other room.

This combination of facts made Han wince when the door chime rang. With excessive haste he hurried over to the unit by the door, managing to hit the mute command before it rang a second time. He looked back at Tycho. "Did it wake her up?"

Tycho shook his head. The fluff of white curls at the top of Mia's head remained still. "No," he whispered.

"Good," he whispered back, before triggering the door release. On the other side were two people, both in New Republic uniforms. Han pressed his finger to his lips before either of them could speak.

Just outside the door, Wedge Antilles straightened, then smiled ruefully and nodded. Then he and Atril Tabanne ducked into the residence. Once inside, Tycho waved silently to Wedge and Atril, offering a smile. Wedge's returning smile was nearly incandescent.

"Where are the twins?" Wedge whispered.

"Sleeping," Han whispered back. "Is this a casual visit or a business visit?"

"Can't it be both?"

"Business, then," Han grumbled.

"Business can wait a minute," Wedge promised. He passed Han, giving him a pat on the shoulder, still smiling, then went over to sit next to Tycho. The two of them watched Tycho's daughter for a long minute, and whispered to one another quietly, catching up.

Beside him, Atril Tabanne stood, looking like she wasn't quite sure what she was doing there. "So, Commodore Tabanne," Han whispered to her, keeping his voice quietly low. Both of Mia's parents might be reserved people, but Mia had powerful lungs. "What brings you and the commander of the New Republic's Fifth Fleet to my door?"

Atril glanced at Wedge. "We want your advice."

"My advice, huh," Han drawled quietly. "And what do you need my distinguished advice abou—" he caught the words in his throat; the sudden stop made Atril jump and spin in the direction he was looking. Luckily, there was no immediate threat there. Unluckily, Jaina Solo was peeking her head out from the hall. "Twins are awake," Han announced quietly.

Tycho looked down at the sleeping Mia and sighed. "And it was so nice and quiet."

"It never lasts," Han observed wryly. "C'mere, sweetheart," he encouraged, with a coaxing tone.

Jaina toddled over. Her steps still uneasy, and Han watched with seasoned anticipation, concerned that she was about to fall over but secure in the knowledge that only ever happened if she tripped on something unexpected and that their toys were all put safely away—the Noghri had helped with that. "Uncle Luke coming, Dada!"

Han glanced at Tycho and Wedge as Jaina waved shyly at the newcomers. "He is?" he asked. "I didn't think he was supposed to be back on Coruscant until later in the week."

Something as minor as Luke's listed schedule didn't bother Jaina. She just nodded seriously, her brown eyes—so like Leia's—wide with an excitement that usually only came from watching spaceships fly past the Skyhook. "Ma-ra too," she added deliberately.

"He usually is," Han commented wryly. "Well, sweetie, how long do you think it'll be before they get here?"

Jaina considered that. "Soon," she proclaimed.

"You know, I think she's right," Wedge said, then winced and glanced at Mia. He continued, more quietly, "A Maka-Eekai L6000 made its way through customs a few hours ago."

"Well, then Jaina is probably right, aren't you honey?" Han asked Jaina, patting her on the head. "Is Jacen awake, or should we go wake him up so the two of you can greet your Aunt and Uncle when they get here?"

Jaina's brows furrowed. "Ma-ra not my Aunt," she countered. "She said!"

"Maybe not, sweetie, but she will be," Han replied, lifting her up so she could see him from eye level.

Jaina giggled in response, as she always did. It never ceased to make his heart warm, either.

Han put her back down. "Tell you what. Why don't you and Uncle Wedge go check on Rogue Solo while I make sure we have something to feed your Uncle when he gets here. He'll be hungry, and I bet he's ready for something more refined than Dathomiri cuisine." He winced. "I certainly would be."

Jaina's brows furrowed further. "I Rogue Solo!" she proclaimed.

Han considered that, hiding a laugh. "You did help cause that incident at the Calamarian opera last week. So you're right. That title does apply to both of you."

Wedge was rising to accompany the half-pint hellion, but neither he nor Jaina made it out of the room before a tiny Jacen Solo toddled in, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the back of one of his hands.

Han frowned. Was that something squirming in Jacen's grasp? He took a few swift steps towards his son, brandishing a swiftly-grabbed spatula like a weapon as Jacen stumbled over, stopping next to an unconcerned Jaina.

In Jacen's hands was a borrat pup, which nestled against his son's chest, cuddling and rumbling with absolute devotion.

Jacen noticed his sister first. "Hi Jaya. Chomper hungry."

"Chomper always hungry!"

Han came to a stop a few feet from his children. His twins looked up at him wide wide, matching eyes. So did the borrat. "Jacen, where did you get that on a Skyhook?" Han asked, astonished.

Jacen gave him a confused look. "Chomper live here," he explained.

"Are those things dangerous?" Han asked.

"It'll grow up to have tusks that can punch through ferrocrete," said Wedge. "I usually need proton torps to do that kind of damage."

This particular borrat did not have those tusks.

Yet.

But from the look of his son, taking the creature away would be … a contentious act, one that Jacen would resist ferociously. Even as Han considered it, Jacen somehow drew the creature in against his chest even more closely. Han sighed. "Tycho, we're gonna need another cage for the menagerie." He wagged his finger at Jacen. "What did I tell you about new pets?"

"Chomper live here," Jacen said patiently.

"He's got you there, Han," said Wedge.

Han glowered. "Just for that Antilles, you get to help me and Tycho find a way to contain the damn thing."

The Jaina Solo Early Warning System was right about Luke. The knock on their door came not fifteen minutes later—almost exactly as long as it took for Luke and Mara to lock down the Tempered Mettle, catch a transport, clear security, and walk from the skyhook's landing platform to the Solo-Celchu apartment. By then, Chomper was secure, Mia was awake and Tycho was trying to coax her into accepting her bottle while Jacen and Jaina bounced, bright-eyed with excited anticipation.

Han pressed the door release and then got out of the way. The pair of heat-seeking human missiles latched onto their Uncle, all that anticipation converted into energetic hugs.

Luke laughed and dragged the two little Solos back into their apartment as they clung to his legs. "Well hello Jaina, and hello Jacen," he said, ruffling their hair as he offered Han one of those absurdly youthful smiles that the Kid wore all the time these days. "I missed you too."

One of the Rogue Solos—the slightly older one—released Luke's leg and glomped onto Mara's as Luke's nearly-everpresent companion followed him into the apartment. "Ma-ra!"

The hesitation that Mara so often had when dealing with people was not as pronounced as it once had been. In the past, Mara would have endured the hug for a while before returning it—and she only ever returned hugs from one of Han's kids or Luke—but her return hug came a little bit quickly and a little bit more enthusiastic than it had in the past.

Jaina gazed up at Mara with her adoring eyes. "Mara, Dada say you gonna be my Aunt."

Han's heart lurched into his chest and he wasn't sure it was beyond Mara to use the Force for that, just to remind him she could. He often compared her glare to a turbolaser battery, but this time he was pretty sure he was staring down the barrel of a Death Star superlaser. "Your father really shouldn't gossip," she said, clearly not blaming Jaina for the indiscretion, for which Han was grateful. She ruffled Jaina's hair, making his daughter giggle with clear delight.

"Is it true?" Jaina pestered.

"Is it true?" Jacen piled on.

Mara's superlaser gaze turned on Luke, who betrayed her by only offering an awkward grin and a shrug. Han was pretty sure Luke was the only person in the galaxy who wasn't intimidated by that glare—and never had been. She arched an eyebrow, as if increasing the intensity of her regard, and Luke laughed awkwardly. "Come on, kids, let me and Mara get a little settled in while your father gets you something to eat, then we can tell you all about our adventures on Dathomir."

"Aww!"

"I want Mara!"

"C'mere kids," Han intervened. "If you relax for a bit, I'll let you have some of yesterday's rhyscate for lunch." He was relieved when the bribe worked as an effective lure… but he could still feel the Death Star's targeting computer tracking him as he vanished into the kitchen…

"I'm going to kill him," Mara hissed into Luke's ear.

"I've heard that before," Luke murmured back. "Hey guys," he greeted Tycho and Wedge.

Wedge stood, and they exchanged a hug. Tycho, still sitting and holding the now awake and curious Mia as she grabbed at his fingers, disentangled himself to wave and greet Luke with a quick "Hey Boss," but stayed seated. Atril Tabanne, the only person there outside their intimate arrangement of close-friends-and-family, exchanged quick greetings with each of them, then found an out-of-the-way chair not far from the transparisteel window that looked out over Coruscant's lower-orbit.

As Luke sat next to Tycho and greeted Mia, Wedge and Mara renewed their acquaintance. "Antilles," said Mara, in exaggerated faux-Corellian as she offered the General a deliberately casual handshake.

"Jade," Wedge replied, in badly stilted Coruscanti-Imperial as he bowed obsequiously over her proffered hand.

There was another moment of hesitation. Watching them, Luke chuckled. The look that Mara sent him might have come across as a glare, or something with even more heat, to someone not fluent in Mara, but Luke saw the uncertainty, saw her slightly at a loss. I don't know if I'm doing this right, that look said. Mara was perfectly capable of faking friendship—she had been a covert agent after all, of course she was—but feeling out real friendships, ones with people she considered 'safe', was still full of fraught moments.

Unlike Han or Leia, who would have just hugged her, Wedge stepped back, gave her space, and smiled. "How was your trip?"

"Shorter than it would have been," she said. Mara's eyes narrowed some, tracking towards Han as he returned from the kitchen. "The Dathomiri did remember Solo fondly. They named their new spaceport after him."

"They did?" Han said with clear surprise, head sticking back out of the kitchen. "Well, I did give them their planet back, free of charge."

There was a bit of pride in those words, but Han was still watching Mara warily—which was wise, Luke thought. He didn't really believe that Mara intended to kill his brother-in-law, but that didn't mean that Mara didn't have plenty of weapons in her arsenal. And the Dathomiri had given her one in particular…

Mara nodded. "Solo's Folly is quite the bustling metropolis by Dathomir's standards." Her eyes narrowed. "I think the witches quite accurately assessed their benefactor, don't you?"

A ripple of muted laughter went around the room, with Leia in particular forced to cover her mouth. "Well, I never," muttered Han, sounding alarmingly like Threepio; his cheeks had become a rather distinct shade of red. He opened his mouth to offer a retort, but a single glance at Mara—whose smirk was utterly disarming—left it unspoken. "I'll be in the kitchen," Han said lamely, and vanished again.

"We found a new recruit," Luke said after a second quiet ripple of laughter went around the room. "One of the witches, named Kirana Ti. But we didn't stay as long as we wanted to."

Wedge nodded. "Mirax and Iella went out to bring you some top-secret information. They wouldn't tell me what it was, either—and I'm under the impression that they're off debriefing with General Cracken somewhere."

Mara grimaced. "Probably. I just had mine."

"We might as well tell you now," Luke said. "Sit down."

By the time they were done explaining, Han had come back for good. Jacen and Jaina were busy eating messily at the kitchen table, creating abstract art with their desserts. "So the Empire is being ruled by an Emperor's Hand?"

"What kind of artifact are they looking for now?" Wedge's voice was much sharper and more intent than Tycho's—the voice of the commander of the New Republic's Fifth Fleet, who had just been told there might be a new, significant threat to his people.

"What could the Force do to change the entire course of the war?" asked Atril Tabanne.

Luke raised both his hands. "The exact rumors didn't come from us, they came from Mirax and Iella. I assume that Cracken will be briefing you soon, if Iella doesn't do it herself. And the rumor is they're looking for an artifact, not that they have it already."

"It's just another hokey rumor," Han put in derisively.

"With all we've been through together," Luke said, faintly amused, "I'd think by now you would take those rumors more seriously."

To his surprise, Han didn't agree with him. "It's not the same. The Emperor is dead, C'baoth is dead, and Gethzerion is dead. If an artifact this powerful really did exist, wouldn't the Emperor have found and used it himself?"

"Despite the name of Dathomir's newest and only spaceport, Solo has a point," said Mara, as though she'd bitten down on something bitter. She shrugged. "But that doesn't mean it isn't true, of course. It just means there's probably more to the story. And given the potential risks we have to take the possibility seriously, so Luke and I will investigate."

"That's good," Wedge said.

Atril cleared her voice. "Though, the reason General Antilles and I came here was to ask General Solo for a favor."

"That's right," Han gave her a skeptical look. "You said you needed my advice, and we got sidetracked. What do you need me for?"

"There's actually someone else from your academy days we wanted to talk to you about," Wedge replied. "I'm not sure how well you would have known her. Do you remember Natasi Daala?"

Han leaned back in his easy chair, whistling. "Daala? Yeah, I remember her. She wasn't easy to get to know, but we were on fairly friendly terms. Turns out women and gutter-rats both got pretty much the same treatment from all the up-their-crust coreworlders. Go figure. Why do you want to know?"

Atril grimaced but Han didn't know why. He also didn't quite understand the victorious smirk that Wedge sent Atril before he replied. "She's been promoted to commander of the Imperial fleet defending Corellia. She's the one who's been cutting apart our logistics for the last few months."

Both of Han's eyebrows shot up. "Daala has? Does that mean someone in the Empire has finally started promoting based on talent? Or is the new Imperial Regent—what's his name, Halmere or whatever—fixed on her the way Tarkin used to be?"

"I don't know. We don't have a good enough understanding of the inner workings of the New Order after ISB's coup," Wedge said. "Either way, she's in command and she's hurting us. She's done a good job of slowing our advance on Corellia and made it nearly impossible to amass a concentration of force large enough to realistically threaten the planet."

"That doesn't surprise me," Han said thoughtfully. "Daala always had the guts for an all-out slugging match, and she was clever too—meaner than all hell if she got cornered. At the academy she always gravitated towards ground tactics classes." He frowned, tapping his hand on his knee. "I remember in the smaller tactical exercises—the ones where it was all about small unit tactics?—she could struggle. She had a tendency to just bull her way in and start blasting. Even when that worked she'd suffer heavier casualties than the instructors wanted and for the Imperial military that's saying a lot. They didn't usually care about how many bodies were left behind. But in the big picture exercises, where she had strategic command? She'd be more methodical; had a real knack for finding unexpected ways to hurt her opponent."

Wedge winced; clearly, that sounded all-too-familiar. "She's doing the same thing to us now. So I might need you to put your General's cap back on for a bit so we can get some more insights into her."

"You know we Generals don't have official caps," Han said, covering surprise with absurdity as he tried not to blink and give the game away. "Are you really asking me to come back to service?" He gestured at Jacen and Jaina. "I have my hands full here, you know."

"I know, but I might be anyway," Wedge said seriously. "This is all classified of course, but the rebellion on Corellia is getting hotter by the day. The Inner Council wants me to push my timetable hard to try to get the fleet in to free the planet before it can escalate."

Han shook his head slowly and spoke pleadingly, "Look, Wedge, I sympathize. And I'm happy to give you whatever aid you need. But my place is here, now. I have to look after my wife and raise my kids. And…" Han's voice trailed away, and his cheeks actually got a bit pink. "I'm happy here, Wedge. I was never happy wearing that uniform."

"You know I hate asking," said Wedge. "I wouldn't if I didn't know it would save lives."

Han swept his eyes around the room, which had suddenly grown silent and focused on him, which he hated. His gaze lingered on the warm, binary brightness of Jacen and Jaina. "Give me some time to think about it. I promise I'll be in touch."

Luke could tell that Wedge wasn't satisfied with that answer—that he would, given the chance, press Han again to return to the service to help with the Corellia campaign. But just as clearly, Wedge was willing to wait.

Originally, Mara and Luke had planned to stop by the Solo residence just for a quick reunion with Han, Leia and the kids. But Wedge had been there when they arrived and the unexpected congregation persisted for several hours—complete with one Mia tantrum, which was halted only by the arrival of Winter and Leia. By then it was nearly dinner time and while Wedge and Atril made their goodbyes to return to Lusankya, Leia had insisted that the others stay for the meal. So, instead of going back to the Jedi consulate for dinner, Luke and Mara were put to work helping with the cooking.

The dinner had been a happy one, despite the multitude of small familial issues and the larger political crises lurking just out of view. Mara, nearing her limit for group conversation, had attempted an escape, but Jaina and Jacen had imitated their mother's persistence and latched onto either leg. Unable to retreat, Mara had found herself impressed into additional duties and helped Leia put the twins to bed.

She'd never done anything remotely like that before, and the entire experience had been a bizarre one. Not… unpleasant. But bizarre. They were amazingly confident little creatures and she suspected that Jacen and Jaina were more confident than most. They also reminded Mara of Imperial Moffs—if anything was not exactly as they wanted it, they'd throw a fit and the only way to make them happy was to fix it. When she'd been Emperor's Hand it hadn't been her job to make people happy, but Aunt Mara had certain obligations and restrictions that the Emperor's Hand had been… unencumbered by.

Now it was entirely dark outside. Coruscant's sun had set several hours before; through the transparisteel windows she could see the bright lights of the city below, and the pulsating lights and starship engine contrails above. Luke and Han were in the kitchen finishing cleanup; Tycho and Winter had retreated to their wing of the apartment with Mia. That left Mara sitting on the couch, staring out that window at the cityscape below, out at the scaffolding-laden Imperial Palace. The process of demolishing it had only recently begun, but it would take a long time to complete.

Leia sat next to her, two mugs in her hands. "Here," she said, and placed one mug on the side table next to Mara. Leia then took her own mug in both hands. Steam wafted from the top, the rich smell of hot chocolate a familiar one. "Luke insisted."

Mara couldn't help a small smile. "Of course he did."

"I don't think they had many sweets on Tatooine," Leia said, her expression briefly one of self-recrimination.

"Luke doesn't blame you for being raised as a princess, you know," Mara said.

"I know," Leia sighed. "Though I'm not sure how much better that really makes it. It still seems unfair."

But would Luke still be Luke if he'd been raised on Alderaan, Mara wondered? Coreworld refinement over rim-world patois? Would he still be her farmboy? "I like him the way he is."

That made Leia laugh, and she reached over to nudge Mara's shoulder. "I know you do," she teased.

Mara relented and swiped the hot chocolate. It really was too sweet, but that was fine. The Skywalker-Solos had a way of making her not mind.

"Do you want to talk about this other Emperor's Hand?" Leia asked.

"Not really," Mara said.

"Do you need to?"

Mara shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I've long since come to terms with Palpatine and his role in my life."

"But?"

Mara sighed heavily. How did Leia do that? "But I do still wonder how things would be different if Palpatine had treated me differently. Is this other hand still working for the Empire on her own initiative? Or is she working for the Empire because Palpatine… raised her to do different things?"

"I like you the way you are," Leia said.

The unexpected parallel startled Mara. But after a moment to consider it, he realized it was an appropriate one.

Leia leaned against her side, offering unexpected, sisterly affection. "You are who you are, Mara," she said warmly. "And I've watched you get more comfortable in your own skin, ever since we met in the Palace. You were practically jumping out of it then."

"I wasn't alone in it," Mara grumbled.

"We all carry ghosts," Leia challenged gently. "Not as literally as you did. Eventually we overcome them… or we don't. You have, or at least you're working on it. We all are."

"Antilles—Wedge said something similar, before his Caridan offensive. I haven't had the time to really unpack it all." Mara paused, feeling a sudden pang of loss and longing. Instinctively she reached out in the Force to Luke and found him there… but not just Luke. Less intimate of a bond, but with a strength that started Mara, she found Leia. Luke's sister squeezed her arm, and Mara found herself talking without thinking about it first. "It's hard," Mara admitted, the words spilling from her. "I wake up and at some points in the day it just hits me and I feel so… robbed."

Leia squeezed her arm again. To Mara's relief, Leia didn't take advantage of her sudden, unexpected vulnerability. Instead, Luke's sister steered the conversation back to safer ground, ground on which Mara felt she had stable footing. "I can't imagine the interview with Airen was salutary," Leia said.

Mara barked a short laugh. "Hardly," she groused, "Not that he wasn't kind about it, in his own way, but it was the way he just sat there listening." Cracken reminded Mara of a smarter, more subtle Ysanne Isard, and the more time she spent with the head of New Republic Intelligence, the more she came to envision him as an old reptile basking in the sun, absorbing every little detail, slowly chewing on facts like a lazy, satisfied Solonese gator.

"He did have to match wits with Isard, Yularen and Palpatine," Leia said, "and all by himself too. Not to mention some of the more difficult rebel cells who had their own… priorities." She paused. "All while raising his son. Airen will never admit to it but I think he kept Pash as separate from his work as he possibly could. Though that didn't stop Pash from staging one of the largest mass defections from the Empire before Endor."

"I suppose despite the elder Cracken's best efforts, the son is very like the father," Mara commented lightly.

It was Mara's turn to feel Leia's sudden swell of melancholy uncertainty. She wasn't used to offering comfort—especially when she wasn't sure what she was offering comfort about—but she leaned towards Leia anyhow. "Are you all right?"

Leia offered a soft, sad smile. "It's funny how these thoughts sneak up on us. I was just thinking about Jacen and Jaina, and all the fears I had to fight through before and after I became pregnant. After finding out that… well, about my birth father, I went through a few years where I was so sure I never wanted to have children."

Guilt swelled in Mara. She hadn't meant to imply that—

"It's all right," Leia assured her. "Really. I was scared of the thought of them growing up to become another Vader, but if we let fear dictate our decisions, that's the Dark Side too. Not quite as… potent… as anger and hate, but the Dark Side all the same. Han and I had to face that fear. Now… we'll raise them, and we'll be there for them as much as we can, and who knows—maybe Jacen will choose to be an award-winning botanist instead of a Jedi." She smiled wryly.

Mara, thinking back to the times she'd been out with Jacen and Luke, thought that botanist was probably not quite right. "Exo-zoologist rather than botanist, I'd guess."

Leia glowed with sudden approval. "You noticed!"

"It's hard not to notice. Jaina has an affinity for ships, Jacen for animals," Mara pointed out. "Though I'm told that childhood interests don't always persist into adulthood."

"Perhaps botanist has a chance, then," Leia observed wryly. Mara noticed Luke watching them with Han near the kitchen, and felt her cheeks darken with blush. She was sipping her hot chocolate to try to cover it when Leia pounced. "So. Are you going to marry my brother?"

The question made Mara sputter and nearly spill her drink. She glared at Leia over the mug, carefully recovering her equilibrium. "That's cheap, waiting until I'm holding a hot drink to ask me that. That's even worse than Han laundering the question through the twins."

Leia smiled innocently. "Maybe I just like watching you jump."

"What is it about Skywalkers and making me jump?" Mara muttered under her breath.

Leia just smiled enigmatically and leaned back. Mara basked in the comforting silence as the two women watched the unending flow of space traffic above, below, and all around them.

Once Luke and Mara had finally made their way out of the Solo apartment—together, of course, because Han barely ever saw them apart now—that left Han and Leia alone together. The hot chocolate mugs were cool and forgotten on the kitchen table. One of the monitors revealed Jacen and Jaina were sleeping calmly, and the second revealed the small, sleeping form of Mia.

"Wedge asked me to reactivate my commission," Han admitted, staring at one of the mugs. His fingers rapped along the table. "On a temporary, advisory basis as a member of his staff. I said no."

Leia knew that tone of voice. She rested her head on his shoulder. "But you're feeling obligated."

Han made a disgruntled sound. "Damn it, Leia," he sighed. "I have obligations here too. I got obligations to you and the kids. I can't go gallivanting around the galaxy every time there's a threat. There's always a threat!"

"Why does Wedge want you?"

"The commander of the fleet he's facing is an old classmate of mine. She—"

"She?" Leia asked dryly.

Han rolled his eyes. "Leia," he drawled. "I already told you a little about Daala."

His wife's expression soured slightly, doubtless remembering the connection with Tarkin when it had come up in an Inner Council briefing. "You did. Go on."

"She was the commander who defeated Admiral Vantai and prevented Pellaeon's defeat at Chazwa during Wedge's Carida campaign. We weren't exactly friends. Daala didn't have friends. But we were classmates, and I was closer to her than most on account of us both being lowbirth charity cases. She's been very low profile since Yavin and NRI doesn't have a lot of information about her."

"And you know her well enough to help Wedge beat her?"

Han shrugged. "I know enough to guess what she might do, and I know Wedge. He's not just looking for an aide, he's looking for an aide he can work well with. And… I think if I go, fewer people are gonna die." He firmed his lips together. "And I think Wedge could use the support. He's taken each loss hard since he took over Fifth Fleet."

There was a pointed pause. "But?"

Han shook his head, grumbling. "You always know when to ask that."

Leia ran her hand along his head, trying to put his hair into some kind of order. "But?" she prompted again.

"But I got out for a reason. If I get back in, it'd better be for a damn good one."

"You know we can manage without you," Leia said. Han didn't have the Force, but he could still see that his wife saying those words cut her to the bone. "We can restore Threepio's programming for maintaining the apartment and cooking, and we have Cakhmaim and Meewalh here with us too. I have Winter and Tycho here, and we can get Kyp back from wherever Karrde has him stashed if the twins get really difficult."

"Replacing me with Threepio," Han groaned. "Leia, you're not exactly making me feel great about this."

"I'm not trying to," she countered. "But if you feel obliged… if you think this is important… Han, we can do it."

Han rubbed his face. "I'll figure it out in the morning."

He might not know what he would decide. But Leia did. She tried not to let the somber weariness she felt show on her face. Instead, she took both of Han's hands in hers, bringing his movements to a stop. "Come to bed."