Tsavong Lah rejoiced at Shimrra turning to Nom Anor with this question. After Nom Anor's attempt to brand him with the catastrophe of Vergere, any discomfort in Nom Anor could only be to Tsavong Lah's delight.

"No reports, Supreme One," Nom Anor said.

Nom Anor almost wilted beneath the fierce glare of Shimrra's mqaaq'it implants. But Shimrra again chose to withhold his anger, and his savage look again turned thoughtful.

"We know the World Brain has been contaminated by that fool Ch'Gang Hool," Shimrra said. "Could this be another manifestation of the shapers'

incompetence?"

No one dared to either confirm or deny this supposition. "It's almost as if the World Brain has developed a nasty sense of humor,"

Shimrra said thoughtfully. "Onimi won't care for that-he much prefers being the only one permitted to make jokes."

No one commented on that, either.

The Supreme Overlord turned to one of his a.s.sistants. "Find a shaper to die for this."

"I will, Supreme One."

Nom Anor seemed to sag with relief once he realized that the shaper cla.s.s was going to get the blame for the botched sacrifice. Tsavong Lah snarled at him. Next time, filth, he thought.

Shimrra's glowing, restless eyes swept again over the company, then settled on Tsavong Lah. The warmaster straightened, then bowed from the waist, keeping his back rigid.

"Dread Lord?" he said.

"Your forces eliminated an enemy cruiser at small cost to themselves. Vengeance for Komm Karsh, though a small one."

Tsavong Lah took a grip on his courage. "With your permission, Supreme One, I will exact vengeance in full. Give me permission to take the fleet and-"

"No, Warmaster."

"Give me a decisive battle, Supreme One! Let the infidels' blood fill the s.p.a.ces between the stars!" The words sprayed from the warmaster's slashed lips.

"Be silent!"

Tsavong Lah threw himself to the ground before the Supreme Overlord's feet. "I obey," he said.

There was a moment of awful emptiness in which Tsavong Lah contemplated his own immediate death.

Then the silence was broken by an unexpected voice. "With respect, Supreme One," Nom Anor said, "I agree that a decisive battle must be fought, and soon."

Astonishment filled Tsavong Lah's soul, followed immediately by suspicion. Nom Anor couldn't be agreeing with Tsavong Lah out of sympathy for his position. This had to be some plot, some devious scheme by the executor to discredit him.

To Tsavong Lah's surprise, Shimrra restrained his anger. "Your reasons, Executor?" he asked.

"We aren't growing any stronger, Supreme One," Nom Anor said. "As soon as our auxiliaries are in place and the fleet is at full strength, we must seek to bring about a decisive engagement that will win the war."

Mockery entered Shimrra's tones. "I thought the Battle of Yuuzhan'tar was supposed to be 'the decisive engagement that would win the war.' "

Nom Anor hesitated. "The infidels have proved more adaptable than we suspected."

Tsavong Lah stepped in. "We shouldn't waste our strength on an offensive for its own sake. If we choose the right moment, however, the right target ... if we can catch their forces at a disadvantage, then we can smash them beyond recovery."

The mockery continued. "How can we choose such a time, such a target?"

"We must depend on accurate intelligence of the enemy, Supreme One," Nom Anor said.

Shimrra laughed. "On you, then. All hail Nom Anor! This victory depends on you, who has just lost a pair of valuable agents in a bungled a.s.sa.s.sination."

Nom Anor wisely chose not to rise to the mocker)'. "a.s.sa.s.sination is always a risky business, Supreme One. Agents may be risked in this way, but no chances should be taken with the fleet."

"Very well then." Shimrra hesitated. "Rise, Warmaster."

Tsavong Lah got to his feet, his clawed vua'sa foot scrabbling for traction on the chitinous temple floor. He looked at Nom Anor and tried to mask his resentment.

Shimrra looked from one to the other. "Warmaster, you will have your decisive battle, after the fleet is ready. But you will not launch the battle blindly; you will wait for Norn Anor's spies to report that the time is ripe. And my own permission will be required. Do you understand?"

"Completely, Supreme One." Tsavong Lah bowed in submission.

A smile twisted across Shimrra's features. "It seems that the two of you are bound together once again. The fate of one will depend entirely on the fate of the other. If success comes to one, it will come to both. But if one fails . . ." He left the thought unfinished.

Tsavong Lah straightened and looked at the executor, who he found looking back at him. Tsavong Lah let a smile spread across his slashed lips.

At least if I fall, he thought at him, I may rejoice in the thought that you will not long survive me.

Though it was not comfortable to think that Nom Anor was probably thinking the very same thing.

"I want Cilghal," Luke said. "I want a healer. The fact that she's an amba.s.sador is a bonus."

He and Mara were in their apartment, trying to choose five Jedi to serve with Luke on the new Jedi Council. In the background, a live holo of Cal Omas was giving his acceptance speech before the Senate.

"With sorrow for our countless dead, but with hope for the future,"

Cal was saying. "With sadness for the many who have fallen, but with confidence in the many who have taken their place ..."

"Cilghal," Mara said. "Very well."

Luke looked at her. "Who I really want," he said, "is you."

Mara's green eyes sparkled. "I'm always flattered to hear that."

"For the council, I mean," Luke said, "as of course in every other way. But a Jedi Master can't appoint his wife to government jobs without people disapproving."

"You'll get my advice anyway," Mara said. "You won't be able to avoid it." She looked at the list they'd compiled. "Who's next?"

"How about Kenth Hamner? He has the contacts, and the knowledge."

Mara nodded, and entered the name on her datapad. "Hamner's in, then." She looked up. "Kam Solusar? Or Tionne? It would be good to have someone representing the Jedi academy."

"Put them down as maybes. If we weren't at war, I'd put one of them on the council for certain, but right now we may need a council oriented more toward action."

"Then why Cilghal?"

Luke looked at her. "Healing is important."

Mara held his gaze, then nodded. "Of course."

"Saba Sebatyne. She commands an all-Jedi squadron, and brings all the Barabels on board. She's proved herself many times over, and it's time she had a higher profile."

Saba hadn't been trained at the Jedi academy, but on Barab I by the Jedi Master Eelysa. Saba in turn had recruited and trained a whole pack of her fellow Barabels, most of whom formed her Wild Knights Squadron.

"You've thought about this pretty thoroughly, haven't you?" Mara said.

"I do my best."

She gave a sly smile. "Maybe Cal is right-you are turning into a politician."

Luke affected horror and made a warding gesture.

Mara laughed. "My only objection is that Saba is a Knight," she said, "not a Master."

"Knights should have some representation on the council, too."

Mara looked at her datapad. "Saba's representing a lot of people-Knights, Barabels, and an all-Jedi squadron."

"Then it's all the more important that she have a seat."

"With compa.s.sion for the millions of our dispossessed," Cal's holo was saying, "with firmness in the rightness of our cause . . ."

Mara shrugged and made a mark by Saba's name. "Streen?" she suggested.

"A maybe. Tresina Lobi?"

"She'd be good."

From the holo came Cal's voice. "... I accept the Senate's nomination to be Chief of State of the New Republic." Roars followed, and applause.

"That was a good speech," Mara said.

"It was." Luke glanced thoughtfully at the holo Cal listening respectfully to the Senate's applause. "You know, I'm beginning to have a lot of sympathy for Cal. He's got to fill seats not only on the Jedi Council, but in all the government departments as well."

"He has more practice at this sort of thing than we do."

"Let's hope so." Luke glanced at Mara's datapad and the list of names. "Let's add one more. My most controversial nominee."

Mara turned her eyes to him in rising horror. "Not Kyp Durron!"

Luke returned her gaze, then gave a deliberate nod. "For what it's worth," he said, "I think that Kyp's actions at Hapes and Borleias show that he's a much more stable person than he was. He seems to have made peace with himself. Remember, he renounced pride on Ithor, and since then he voluntarily put himself under Jaina's command. He's always supported the idea of a Jedi Council."

"You're setting yourself up for a lot of grief."

"Wouldn't it be more grievous to have a Kyp running around loose, where the council can't control him?" Luke said. "Remember, he's only one vote. If he takes an independent line, he'll be outvoted by the rest, and then he'll be obliged to support the majority."

"I think you have a very generous idea of Kyp's sense of obligation. Plus," Mara considered, "how do you know he'll be outvoted?

There are going to be six non-Jedi on the council now. What if Kyp's arguments make sense to them?"

"If Kyp's arguments make sense to half a dozen political appointees, then I'd better pay more attention to those arguments than I have been."

Mara gave him a skeptical look. "I think you're going to regret this."

Luke shrugged. "I may. I probably will. But if a person in authority talks only to those who agree with him, he soon finds himself out of authority."

Mara sighed. "You are a politician," she said.

Luke presented Ms nominees for the Jedi Council to Cal Omas the next morning. Cal leaned back in his office chair-the office smelled of fresh paint and newly laid carpet-looked at the list, and gave Luke a skeptical look.

"Kyp Durron?" he said.

"Kyp has changed," Luke said.

"He hasn't blown up any planets in a few years, that's true."

"That wasn't precisely Kyp who did that," Luke said. "He was possessed by the spirit of a long-dead Sith Lord named Exar Kun."

Cal shook his head, and when he spoke his voice had a mournful air.

"That's exactly the sort of tiling I hope never to have to explain to a Senatorial committee," he said.

Luke looked at Cal in concern. "Should I withdraw the nomination? I don't want to wreck our chances of reestablishing the Jedi Council."

Cal considered, then shook his head. "No," he said. "I understand why you did it. It's best to have the opposition inside the tent, where you can keep an eye on them. That's why I'm putting some of Fey'lya's old faction on the Advisory Council. And Fyor Rodan, if he'll agree." He looked at Luke. "And you."

Surprise rose in Luke. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Don't you think Leia would be better?"

"Maybe. But Leia hasn't returned from Bastion, and you're here."

Luke smiled. "You're going to keep me so busy running to meetings that I'm not going to have time for anything else."

"Would that be a bad thing?" Cal asked. "Docs the head of the Jedi order need to be blowing up Death Stars and engaging in lightsaber fights at his age?"

Luke smiled. "I haven't blown up a Death Star in ages."

"That's what your young folks are for," Cal said. "If you put me back in a starfighter, I'd feel like an idiot,"

"I doubt that very much," Luke said.

"Maybe I exaggerate." Cal smiled. "I'm appointing myself to the Jedi Council, by the way."