The music echoed through the stone hall as she slowly walked to the front of the room, echoing over the soft rustle of her dress and the faint noises of people shifting in their seats. Slow and sonorous yet hopeful, the song had been specially chosen for the occasion. As she walked, every eye in the room was fixed on her, but she only had eyes for one man, standing at the altar next to Olno Mada, the Zabrak elder who would marry her in just a few short minutes. Breaking tradition, she was unescorted, because there was no one in the galaxy who could answer to the name of “father of the bride” for her-anyone who could have claimed that title was dead-and she had elected to walk down the aisle alone. It was how she had lived much of her life. Of course, that was about to change.