Free Dynasty of Evil by Drew Karpyshyn

gratitude for what her friend had done. And she had no intention of letting anyone—not the king, and not the Jedi—find out that Lucia was responsible.
    “Remember what I told you,” she said, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I have dealt with the Jedi before. I know how to handle them. I know their weaknesses. Their blind spots. We will get through this.”
    The bodyguard took a deep breath and nodded. Serra did the same, centering herself in anticipation of the coming confrontation.
    Lucia was amazed at how calm and composed the princess appeared as they prepared to leave the shuttle.
    She had always carried herself with a quiet but firm resolve. It gave her an air of confidence and authority that drew others to her. When she spoke, people gave her words careful consideration … even people like the king of Doan. But this was different. They were about to meet a Jedi Master, and Serra intended to lie right to his face.
    Lucia had no intention of letting her friend get into trouble, however. At the first sign the Jedi knew Serra was being dishonest, she intended to confess everything, no matter the consequences.
    Steadied by her decision, she was able to maintain her own exterior of composure as they disembarked. Outside the shuttle they found an escort of three Jedi waiting for them. Two were human, a man and a woman. The third was a female Twi’lek. Each wore plain brown robes with the hoods thrown back to reveal their features; their simple garb a sharp contrast with Serra and Lucia’s more formal outfits.
    The princess was wearing a long, flowing, sleeveless dress of blue silk; a finely woven gold stole covered her shoulders and upper arms. Her long black hair hung loose from beneath the elaborate golden tiara she wore, and around her neck was an elegant gold chain and a sapphire pendant signifying her station within the Doan royal family.
    Lucia was also dressed in blue and gold—the royal colors—but she wore the dress uniform of the Doan military: dark blue pants with a gold stripe running up the leg and a tight, light blue shirt covered by a short blue jacket with gold trim buttoned up to the collar. Like the three Jedi, however, her head was bare.
    The Twi’lek stepped forward with a bow. “Greetings, Your Highness. My name is Ma’ya. My companions are Pendo and Winnoa.”
    Serra returned the bow with a tilt of her head. “This is Lucia, my companion,” she returned.
    Ma’ya’s eyes flicked down to the blaster prominently displayed on Lucia’s hip, but all she said was, “Please, follow us. Master Obba is waiting to speak with you.”
    From the briefings she had reviewed during the trip to Coruscant, Lucia knew that Obba was a member of the Council of First Knowledge. As keepers of ancient Jedi lore, they often provided advice and guidance to the Jedi High Council. He had also been the Master of Medd Tandar, the Jedi who had died on Doan.
    The three robed figures led them from the landing pad through a well-tended garden, dotted by a number of memorials and statues. A small crowd of children rushed past them at one point, laughing.
    “Younglings from the trainee dorms,” Ma’ya explained. “During afternoons they are given time away from their studies to play in the gardens.”
    Serra didn’t reply, but Lucia could see the flicker of sorrow in her eyes. She knew the young couple had beentrying to start a family in the weeks before Gerran’s death, and seeing the children no doubt brought back painful memories.
    They continued on in silence, the Jedi leading them to the foot of the northwest tower and then inside. They climbed up several flights of winding stairs; toward the end Lucia noticed that the princess had become short of breath, though neither she nor the Jedi had the same problem.
    And then, somewhere roughly a quarter of the way up the tower, they stopped outside a large door. Ma’ya knocked, and a deep voice from inside called out, “Come in.”
    The