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Honesty. That, at least, was something. No one had coerced Altair to make this confession, to inform her of the reality of his involvement on that fateful Onderon day. The day that had sealed the fate of so many Onderonians, including the fates of those two beings most precious to her. He had...

I was there that day. Conflicted didn't even begin to scratch the surface. Reyna repeated those five words over and over in her mind until she could no longer think straight. Until all of her surroundings—the carefree laughter that echoed from inside the mansion, the lighthearted music, and the...

Neither of them stood at the center of the ballroom, hand in hand as they danced beneath candelabras, every step in time with the music as they bended and swayed in and out of the crowd, but they were both dancing, nonetheless. Dancing around the elephant in the room. Around the wedge that had...

The ashen sentient slumped to the floor with an audible thud, the chromium blaster that he had cherished in life skidding across the floor of the ship until it hit the wooden display case that held a set of Mandalorian armor so flashy and so ostentatious that no self-respecting Mandalorian would...

Their preferred point of entry was the man-made conduit beneath the northern docks, as it was the easiest access point and provided them with the most cover. No climbing gear was necessary to rappel down into the underground tunnel system, and they didn't have to worry about shifting debris left...

The champagne flute, still half full, was abandoned to the empty tray of a passing wine steward as Reyna's host conducted her by the hand toward the center of the ballroom floor. Other dancers parted on either side of them, allowing the Prince of Fondor and his dance partner to pass through...

Reyna crossed the balcony in measured steps with a single-minded, immutable poise that betrayed nothing she did not wish to be seen. She was in command of her every move, if not her thoughts. No expression in her eyes, no inconstancy in her gait displayed the uncertainty she might have felt...

"Get your hands off me!" Reyna spat, pointed ears flat against the sides of her head, but it didn't do any good. The princess wasn't above a crude word when necessary and the situation called for it, and the wiry sentient opposite her wasn't above holding a lady against her will. There wasn't...

Tibrin had achieved nothing less than modern magic, casting a charm over the entire room, invisible to the naked eye but so thoroughly spellbinding to all those in attendance that it was nearly tangible. Its effects were plainly seen. Every lace curtain socialite was showered with blandishments...

Neither outcome was ideal, and the former—that the Hutt had secreted the Crown Jewels of Onderon somewhere aboard ship where only his pudgy hands could trace the outline of its diamonds, sodden eyes roaming over each intricacy of its craftmanship for hours on end—was unlikely. It was probably...

That wasn't entirely true, as the ship in question, so fondly dubbed The Blackbird by its captain, had a musty fetor to it that could not be disguised, not even by the princess' continued attempts to mask the odor with her signature perfume, a tantalizing combination of blue orchids and...

"Thank you, Senator Vaisra." The deliberate pause that proceeded those four words showcased the princess' mastery of her own demeanor if not her own thoughts, both mercifully hidden. One inherently, the other through years of exercise at her mother's behest and the natural inclination toward...

"Not yet." Druga the Hutt was quite the collector. From precious gemstones, the brilliant refraction of which made the most avaricious of the Hutt's guests water at the mouth, faces pressed up against the tempered glass display cases, to a seat cushion once used by the great Jabba the Hutt...

There had to be some hidden agenda behind the Sith Empire's bid for Ambria. One that went beyond the ore the miners extracted from the rock masses scattered across the planet. Ore could not be the chief inducement. An ulterior motive—that was the only explanation, at least in the princess'...

Where Reyna was ladylike, going beyond the decorous demands placed upon a woman in her position by curtseying, Jin Vaisra was all the more chivalrous, going so far as to kiss the slender, ebony hand that she extended, pastel lips brushing against her knuckles. It was just a kiss, a nod to some...

It was not the intention of the Sith delegate, who spoke of a formal and binding alliance between Ambria and the ISC, to discredit her own argument with the statement "No party here—actively at war—could guarantee free trade for Ambria and its mining corporations and still maintain a shred of...

Once Victoria and Reyna had made their opening statements, it was the Sith representative that spoke next. There was a pronounced poise that no one, including Reyna, could deny—not only in her pleasing features and intelligent eyes but her choice of words, the smooth-tongued diction that...

Not every planet in the southern regions of space found themselves at the end of the sword. A few were reveling in the freedom and opportunity the Independent Systems Consortium had granted them by driving out the Sith Empire. They caroused like the liberated, the ISC and even, in its own way...

A footman stood waiting to conduct the Princess of Onderon from the repulsorcraft that had transported her from her personal ship to the front steps of the palace, and a doorman stood by the great doors to escort her into The Palace of a Thousand Stars. Her host had thought of everything. The...

Eventide on Onderon, the hurry-scurry of the day-to-day traffic yielding to the calm of evening. The Princess of Onderon sat alone in her bedchamber, upright on the percale comforter draped across her king-sized bed. A fire crackled in the open hearth, the soft scent of burning cedarwood...