"It's not the credits that brought me back. It's the life." He laughed bitterly. "How does someone like me retire? What do I know about farming?" He slapped the blaster on his hip. "This is what I know. This is how I am." Havac swapped satisfied looks with Cindar.

"Then we're even more pleased to have you back aboard, Captain." Cohl planted his elbows on the table. "Then make it worth the trip." Havac nodded. "Maybe you haven't heard, but Supreme Chancellor Valorum intends to press for taxation of the free trade zones. If the proposal meets with Senate approval, the Trade Federation stands to see a lot of its profits end up on Coruscant. All well and good, if the Neimoidians would agree to take it on the chin, but they won't. They'll try to offset the taxes by raising the costs for shipping with them. Without anyone else to ship with, the outlying systems will have no choice but to pay whatever the Federation demands. Worlds that refuse to play by the new rules will be overlooked, and their markets will collapse."

"Compet.i.tion will get cutthroat," Cindar added.

"Especially hard for worlds desperate to do trade with the Core. There'll be credits galore for anyone willing to take advantage of the situation."

Cohl gazed at the two of them and smirked.

"What's all that got to do with me? I couldn't care less what happens to either side." Havac's gaze narrowed. "Disinterest is exactly what this job calls for, since our goal is to change the rules." Cohl waited.

"We want you to a.s.semble a team of spotters, trackers, and weapons experts," Havac said.

"They have to be highly skilled, and they should share your penchant for impartiality. But I don't want to use professionals. I don't want to take the chance of their being under surveillance already, or first-choice suspects after the fact."

"You're looking for a.s.sa.s.sins," Cohl said.

"We're not asking you to be involved in the act," Cindar said. "Only the delivery. In case you need to soothe your conscience any, think of the team as a shipment of weapons." Cohl's upper lip curled. "I'll let you know when my conscience needs soothing. Who's the target?"

"Supreme Chancellor Valorem," Havac said carefully.

"We want to strike during the trade summit on Eriadu," Cindar elaborated.

Cohl stared at them in amus.e.m.e.nt. "This is the major job you promised?"

Cindar spread his huge hands. "Your a.s.sured retirement, Captain." Cohl shook his head and laughed. "Who put this bright idea in your head, Havac?" Havac stiffened. "We're receiving help from a powerful outside agency, sympathetic to our cause."

"The same one who told you about the shipment of aurodium."

"The less you know, the better," Cindar warned.

Cohl laughed again. "Secret information, huh?" Havac's forehead wrinkled in concern. "You don't think the job can be done?" Cohl shrugged. "Anyone can be killed."

"Then why are you hesitant?" Cohl blew out his breath in scorn. "You two must take me for a furbog trader. Just because I've been chased up and down the Rimma and all over this sector doesn't mean I don't keep an ear to the background noise. You tried to kill Valorum on Coruscant, and you rumbled the job.

Now you're turning to me, which you should have done in the first place."

Cindar returned the sneer. "You weren't interested, remember? You were bent on a life of moisture farming on Tatooine."

"Besides, we didn't fumble anything," Havac said.

"We thought we could scare Valorum into inviting the Nebula Front to attend the summit. He didn't bite, so now we mean to finish the job on Eriadu. " Cindar grinned malevolently. "We're going to ruin his summit in a way no one will soon forget." Cohl scratched at his beard. "For what?

So Valorum won't tax the free trade zones?

How does that help the Nebula Front or the outlying systems?"

"I thought you weren't interested in politics," Havac said.

"Pure curiosity."

"All right," Havac allowed. "Without taxation, no worlds have to worry about increased costs. As for the Trade Federation, we'll continue to deal with them in our own way." Cohl was unconvinced. "You're going to cultivate a crop of new enemies, Havac--including the Jedi, if I know anything about anything. But I guess you're not paying me to think."

"Exactly, " Cindar made clear. "Suppose you let us worry about the backlash."

"Fine with me," Cohl said. "But let's talk about Eriadu. Because of what you pulled on Coruscant, security is going to be extra tight. No matter what you were trying to do, you've already undermined yourvs."

"All the more reason to gather a highly skilled team," Havac agreed.

Cohl put his hands on the table. "I'll need a new ship. The Hawk-Bat is too well known."

"Done," Cindar promised. "What else?" Cohl considered it briefly. "I don't suppose you could do anything about keeping the Jedi clear of my trajectory?" Havac smiled. "As a matter of fact, Captain, I can practically guarantee that the Jedi are going to be busy elsewhere." the outlying systems Edging into jaded sunlight around the curve of a tiny moon, two diplomatic cruisers closed on pale-brown Asmeru. In front and to either side of the crimson Corellian ships flew a dark escort of Tikiar fighters, resembling beaked and taloned predatory birds. Lagging behind, still in the shadow of the moon, came a pair of colossal dreadnaughts with fanged bows and elegantly finned sterns, p.r.i.c.kly with weapons and bearing the royal crest of House Vandron.

Light-years distant, etched into the star-strewn backdrop, loomed an immense spiral of light, attenuating toward a center of utter blackness.

Qui-Gon regarded the crazed sky from the c.o.c.kpit of the trailing cruiser.

Obi-Wan stood beside him, peering between the forward seats for a better view. The female pilot and male copilot wore the tight-fitting blue uniforms of the Judicial Department.

"Coming up on the minefield," the pilot said while her hands were busy making adjustments to the instruments.

A scattering of glinting cylinders caught Qui-Gon's eye.

"I might have mistaken them for asteroids," the copilot said.

Obi-Wan leaned toward him. "Things are not always what they appear to be.

" Qui-Gon shot him a disapproving glance.

"Remember that when we are on the surface, Padawan," he said quietly.

Obi-Wan bit back a retort and nodded.

"Yes, Master." The copilot called up a magnified view of one of the mines. "Command detonated," he said over his shoulder to Qui-Gon. "They can probably be triggered by the terrorists' sentry ships or from down below." As Qui-Gon was considering it, a female voice issued from the c.o.c.kpit annunciators.

"Prominence, this is Ecliptic.

Our escort advises that we raise deflector shields and hold fast to our course. Long-range scans show three fighter craft on the far side of the minefield. We have high confidence that they are aware of us." Qui-Gon touched Obi-Wan on the shoulder.

"It's time we rejoined the others in the salon pod." They left the cramped c.o.c.kpit and walked aft down a narrow corridor that pa.s.sed directly through the navigator's station, the communications station, and the crew lounge. The corridor terminated at a turbolift, which they rode to the lower deck. Then they walked forward through the salon pod's vestibule and into the roomy pod itself.

Nuzzled beneath the cruiser's abrupt bow and forward sensor array, the cone-shaped pods were interchangeable and capable of providing customized atmospheres.

In emergency situations, they could be jettisoned and employed as escape vehicles. This one featured port and starboard viewports and a large circular table, with a holoprojector at its center.

"We're negotiating the minefield," Qui-Gon said.

"Indeed we are," Jedi Knight Ki-Adi-Mundi said from the starboard viewport.

He had a smooth, elongated skull and a piercing gaze. His chin sported a long tuft of gray hair; his upper lip, dangling gray mustachios that matched his thick eyebrows.

"Worried your young Padawan appears, Qui-Gon," Yaddle remarked from her seat at the table. "The minefield is it, or other concerns?" Qui-Gon almost smiled. "That's his normal look of foreboding. When he's actually worried, you can see steam escaping his ears."

"Yes," Yaddle said. "Watch him train I did. Saw the steam."

"I'm not worried, Masters," Obi-Wan said good-naturedly. "I'm only thinking forward." He waited for Qui-Gon to offer some piece of wisdom regarding the living Force, but for once his Master kept silent.

"Right you are to think forward, Padawan," Yaddle told him. "Deal lightly with matters of consequence, and decisively with those of little consequence.

Difficult it is to face a crisis and solve it gently, if not resolved beforehand you are, for uncertainty will impede your efforts. When comes the time, thinking forward allows you to deal lightly." Her big eyes shifted to favor Qui-Gon.

"Agree do you, Qui-Gon?" He bowed his head. "As you say, Master."

Diagonally across the table from Yaddle, Saesee Tiin glanced up and smiled, as if reading Qui-Gon's thoughts. Next to him, and as small in stature as Yaddle, sat Vergere, a female Fosh, and the former apprentice of Thracia Cho Leem, who had left the Jedi Order several years earlier.

Vergere's trim torso was covered with short feathers of varied color. Her slightly concave face was slant-eyed, wide-mouthed, delicately whiskered, and bracketed by willowy ears and twin antennae. A pair of reverse-articulated legs and splayed feet propelled her.

Alongside Vergere stood Depa Billaba, the hood of her brown cloak raised over her head.

The voice of the Prominence's pilot crackled from the pod's speakers.

"Master Tiin, incoming transmission from our escort." Qui-Gon stepped closer to the table.

Shortly, the image of an aristocratic human male appeared above the holoprojector.

"Esteemed members of the Jedi Order," the man began. "On behalf of Lord Crueya and Lady Theala of House Vandron, it is our honor to welcome you to the Senex sector. We apologize for the circuitous route we have been obliged to follow, and likewise for the precautions circ.u.mstances have obliged us to exercise. Tidal forces and orbital weapons make for an uncommonly hazardous mix." He smiled thinly. "Be that as it may, we trust that you will not judge the Senex sector by what you are likely to encounter on Asmeru. The planet once supported great cities and grand palaces, but all those fell victim to sudden climatic change. The current population is comprised of Ossan slaves created on the Vandron world of Karfeddion, but banished here owing to defects of one sort or another.

Bred for agricultural work, the slaves have managed to make a life for themselves, though we doubt that you will find them especially welcoming.

That might have been the case with the members of the Nebula Front, as well, but for their superior weapons."

"Charming," Depa said, just loudly enough to be heard by her comrades.

"We're sorry we can't be of more a.s.sistance at this time," the human added. "Perhaps when the present crisis is resolved, the Senex Houses and the Republic can meet to discuss matters of mutual concern and benefit."

The miniature figure disappeared, leaving the seven Jedi to trade looks of misgiving.

"And not yet midway through the minefield are we," Yaddle said.

The comm chimed again.

"Communication from Asmeru downside," the pilot announced. "Nebula Front sentry ships are presenting no overt threat, but House Vandron fighters have dispersed to remove themselves from any possible action." Through the port viewport Qui-Gon could see the sleek Tikiars peeling gracefully away from the Prominence.

When he turned back to the table, a leathery-skinned humanoid with a barbarous twist to his mouth stood in the holoprojector's cone of blue light. His face was deeply pitted and his features were large.

His skull was shaved, save for a braided topknot that fell to his shoulders. Qui-Gon thought that he was getting his first glimpse of one of Asmeru's banished slaves, until the humanoid spoke.

"Republic cruisers, identify yourvs or risk being fired on." Saesee Tiin positioned himself for the holocam and spoke for the Jedi, his cowl lowered to reveal his tight, shiny face and downward-facing horns. "We are members of a diplomatic mission dispatched by Coruscant."

"This is not Republic s.p.a.ce, Jedi. You have no authority here."

"We acknowledge that," Tiin replied in a calm voice. "But we have prevailed upon the rulers of this sector to guide us to Asmeru for the purpose of opening negotiations with the Nebula Front." The humanoid showed his teeth. "The Nebula Front's grievances are with the Trade Federation, not Coruscant--and we can settle those in our own fashion.

What's more, we know full well how the Jedi "negotiate." his Tiin leaned toward the holocam pickup, narrowing already narrow eyes. "Then let me provide you with a reason. Coruscant has grievances with the Nebula Front when they make an attempt on the life of a Republic dignitary." The humanoid blinked in apparent bafflement. "Your meaning escapes me, Jedi.

Whose life was threatened?"

"The life of Supreme Chancellor Valorum." Concern tugged at the humanoid's gross features. "Your guides have misled you. As I said, we have no issue with the Republic."

"Some of the a.s.sa.s.sins were tracked to Asmeru," Tiin pressed.

"They may have been tracked here, but we know nothing of their actions."

Tiin pressed his point. "I propose that someone in a position of command come aboard and speak with us." The humanoid scoffed. "You must be s.p.a.ce happy."

"Then will you allow us to come to the surface and speak with you?"

"Do we have a choice in the matter?"

"No, not really."

"I thought as much," the humanoid said. "How many Jedi are you?"

"Seven."

"And how many judicials?"

"Perhaps twenty." The humanoid turned to discuss the matter with someone out of view. "As a gesture of good faith, leave one of your cruisers in orbit, along with most of the Judicial force," he replied at last. "Two of our CloakShapes will usher the other cruiser down." Tiin glanced at Yaddle, then Billaba, both of whom nodded. He swung back to the holocam pickup. "We await your escort."

"Is there anyone here who feels confident about this?" Vergere asked while the cruiser was descending through the thin clouds that barely masked Asmeru's wrinkled surface. When no one responded to the delicate, feathered Jedi's question, she shook her disproportionately large head.

"Just as I feared." Qui-Gon glanced meaningfully at Obi-Wan.

The two of them left the pod and retraced their steps to the c.o.c.kpit. By the time they arrived, features of the landscape were coming into view: ice-capped mountain ranges; arid plateaus; steep and intricately terraced hillsides, pale-green with crops, climbing above ribbons of racing black water.

"What should we do in the event of trouble, Master?" Obi - Wan asked quietly.

Qui-Gon's gaze didn't leave the c.o.c.kpit viewport. "In a rainstorm, you try to keep dry by hurrying for shelter. But you get soaked regardless."

"It's better to conclude beforehand that you're going to get wet," Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon nodded.

The ruins of an ancient city of quarried stone appeared on the horizon--monolithic monuments, rectangular platforms, and stepped pyramids, silhouetted against the sky, as if they were a range of hills. Directly below, enormous geometric shapes and animistic symbols had been etched into the perpetually thirsty ground. The city was bounded by walls made of cyclopean boulders, a.s.sembled in the shape of lightning bolts.

Surrounding the ruins spread a maze of primitive dwellings built of mud and sun-baked clay.

Tiny figures could be glimpsed moving along dirt roadways, some of them in wheeled wagons, and others driving herds of long-haired pack animals, as large as banthas. To the north, an expansive lake dotted with rocky islands stretched across the creased terrain like a spill of liquid jet.