“If it’s all right with Ab’begh, it’s fine with me.” The woman actually smiled. “I remember having sleepovers when I was their age. Pretty sure I can whip up a few snacks for them, and we’ll make it an event.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Ar’alani said. “But.” She raised a warning finger. “When your caregiver says it’s time for lights-out, girls, it’s time for lights-out. If we need you, we don’t want you so tired you’ll accidentally steer us into a supernova.”

“Yes, ma’am, we will,” Ab’begh promised, her earlier excitement starting to bubble up again.

“Anything else we can do for you, Admiral?” the momish asked.

“No,” Ar’alani said. “I just wanted to let you all know what was happening. Have a good evening—” She gave both girls a pretend frown. “And get some sleep.”

The frown disappeared, she smiled again, and left.

“This is going to be fun,” Ab’begh said, bouncing a little on her chair. “It’ll be fun, right?”

“Sure,” Che’ri said.

“We’ll make sure of it,” the momish promised. “Right now, it’s still reading time. Half an hour, and the sooner you start, the sooner you’ll be done.”

“You want to read a story about tree people?” Ab’begh asked, holding her questis toward Che’ri. “There are lots of good pictures.”

Che’ri wrinkled her nose. A picture book? She might not like to read, but she was way past picture books. “That’s okay,” she told the younger girl. “I’ve got something else I’m supposed to read.”

“She said we didn’t have to study.”

“This isn’t studies,” Che’ri assured her. “Go on, get busy. I want to get back to those snaps.”

“Okay.” Settling herself cross-legged in her chair, Ab’begh propped her questis on her knee and started to read.

Che’ri picked up her questis, her eyes straying over to the low table where Ab’begh’s colored graph markers were scattered. Her last momish had told her graph markers got all over everything and wouldn’t let her have them.

But that was her last momish. Maybe Thalias would let her get some. She’d ask her once they were back on the Springhawk. If she could get some graph markers, and some paper, she could do some real artwork.

Looking back at the questis, she punched up the list. Along with the familiar storybooks—some of which she’d read more than once—she spotted a longer one: some stories about Mitth’raw’nuruodo.

She frowned. She’d completely forgotten about the file Thalias had sent her. It was pretty long, and there were bound to be big complicated words.

But with Thrawn and Thalias and the Springhawk in danger, maybe reading some of it would help her feel better. Thalias had seemed to think it would, anyway.