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[Dark Nest] - 1(127)



Leia let her sentence trail off as a pair of black-clad Galactic Alliance bodyguards stepped into the foyer behind the Ithorians. The two women were not armed-only Jedi were permitted to carry weapons on Ossus-but their sinewy builds and supple grace suggested they did not need to be. Leia’s hand dropped to her lightsaber, and she slipped between Waoabi and another Ithorian elder to confront the newcomers.

“May I help you?” she said.

“Yes.” The first woman’s cobalt eyes darted past Leia, scanning all corners of the chamber. “You can clear the room.”

As the first woman spoke, the second was slipping past behind her, waving the feathery antennae of a threat scanner at various pieces of furniture and artwork. Leia glanced toward Han, but he was already placing himself squarely in the bodyguard’s path, studying the scanner with feigned interest.

“Is that one of those new Tendrando Arms multisniffers Lando was telling me about?” Han pushed his head between the delicate antennae, pretending he wanted to see the data display - and ruining the instrument’s calibration. “I’ve heard they can smell a gram of thermaboom at fifty meters.”

Leia waited until the first bodyguard finally stopped looking past her, then said, “I’ll be happy to clear the room when our meeting is finished. Until then, feel free to wait in the reception-“

“We have no time to wait.” Cal Omas entered the room wearing a rumpled travel tunic as red as the veins in his bloodshot eyes. “This matter has taken too much of my time already.”

“Chief Omas!” Leia’s diplomatic skills must have been degenerating from disuse, for she could not quite conceal her shock. “What a surprise to see you here.”

“I imagine.” Omas started for the beverage station, walking straight past the Ithorian delegation and failing to acknowledge them. “Where’s Luke?”

“I really don’t know.” Leia began to fume at the way he had slighted her guests. “Chief Omas, allow me to present Ooamu Waoabi and the Council of Ithorian Elders. We were about to begin a meeting-a meeting for which they have traveled a long distance on short notice.”

Taking the hint, Omas set aside the glass of bwago juice he had been filling and returned to the Ithorians. “Elder Waoabi, a pleasure to see you again.”

He bowed formally to Waoabi, then greeted each of the other elders by name, stumbling only when he came to the young Jedi liaison, Ezam Nhor. For a moment, Leia was impressed enough to recall why she had helped elect Cal Omas to the Chief’s office in the first place.

Then Omas returned to the beverage station. “Forgive me for pushing in like this.” He retrieved his bwago juice and took a sip. “But I’ve asked the senior Jedi to meet me here to discuss a matter of vital importance.”

“And I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” Luke said. He entered the room with Mara and, pausing to bow to the Ithorians, approached the Chief of State. “Most senior Jedi aren’t available. Perhaps if there had been more notice…”

“If you hadn’t been hiding here on Ossus, perhaps I would have been able to provide it.” Omas gave Luke an icy glare. “As it is, you will have to do. Aristocra Formbi is demanding to know why the Galactic Alliance has sent a battle fleet to the Colony.”

“Have we?” Luke’s gaze remained fixed on Omas, but Leia felt his mind reaching in her direction, wondering what this had to do with her vague warning about the shift of power in the Colony. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Neither was I,” Omas fumed. “Yet a Hapan battle fleet was seen at someplace called the Lizil nest.”

“In the Colony?” Corran Horn asked, stepping into the room. “What’s it doing there?”

“I was hoping someone here could explain.” Omas’s gaze swung to Leia. “Perhaps you?”

“I’m afraid not.” Leia had been half expecting this. In the convoluted politics of the Hapan Royal Navy, there was sure to be some ambitious spy who saw an advantage in reporting the fleet’s encounter with the Falcon to Galactic Alliance Intelligence. “They were in no mood to answer questions.”

“Who was in no mood to answer questions?” Kyp asked, joining the group. He nodded to the Ithorians, from him the equivalent of a full diplomatic salutation, then ignored Omas and came to stand with Leia and Han. “The Hapans?”

“Yeah,” Han said. “They wanted to intern us.”

“Intern you?” Omas knitted his brow. “You encountered this fleet?”

Leia began to have a sinking feeling. “You didn’t know?”