"And what is the purpose of rules and regulations if not to guide people into the behavior that will best serve them and their society?" C'baoth countered.

"Now you're playing with semantics."

"No, I'm speaking of intent," C'baoth corrected. "Rule is of the dark side because it seeks personal gain and the satisfaction of one's own desires over the rights and desires of others. Guidance, in any form, seeks the other person's best interests."

"Is that truly what you're seeking here?"

"That's what all of us seek," C'baoth said. "Come now, Master Ken.o.bi. Can you truly say that Master Yoda and Master Windu couldn't run the Republic with more wisdom and efficiency than Palpatine and the government bureaucrats?"

"If they could resist the pull of the dark side, yes," Obi-Wan said. "But that pull would always be there."

"As it is in whatever we do," C'baoth said. "That's why we seek the guidance of the Force for ourselves as well as for those we serve."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It's a dangerous course, Master C'baoth," he warned. "You risk bringing chaos and confusion."

"The confusion will be minimal, and it will end," C'baoth promised.

"Whatever authority we're granted, rest a.s.sured that it will be with the support of the people." He lifted a finger. "But never forget why most of them are here in the first place. You heard that man: they joined Outbound Flight to escape the corruption of the worlds we're leaving behind. Why shouldn't we offer something better?"

"Because this is skirting perilously close to the edge," Obi-Wan said. "I can't believe that the Code could be as wrong as you seem to believe."

"Not wrong, but merely misinterpreted," C'baoth said. "Perhaps you should focus your meditation on this question. As of course I will myself," he added. "Together, I'm sure we'll obtain the insight to find the proper path."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan said. "I'd like to come to the meeting tomorrow morning."

"No need," C'baoth said. "Jedi Master Evrios and I will handle things.

Besides, I believe you're scheduled to help with the shielding of Dreadnaught-One's new auxiliary navigation room at that time."

"I'm sure that could wait."

"And now you'll want to return to your rest," C'baoth said as they reached the pylon turbolift lobby. "You have a busy day tomorrow."

"As do we all," Obi-Wan said with a sigh. "And you?"

C'baoth gazed thoughtfully down the corridor. "I believe I'll wait for Captain Pakmillu," he said. "Sleep well, Master Ken.o.bi. I'll see you tomorrow."

At the meeting the next morning, after all the various arguments had been presented and the discussion had wound down, Captain Pakmillu sided with C'baoth.

"They took the boy away three hours later," Uliar said, scowling across the table at his friends.

"What do you expect?" Tarkosa asked reasonably from across the table.

"Jedi are as rare as dewback feathers. I can understand why they wouldn't want anyone with the talent to slip through their fingers."

"But before it was always just infants," Jobe Keely reminded him, his face puckered with uncertainty. "Kids who don't even know they're alive yet, much less knowing who Mom and Dad are. These kids have all been much older."

"But they've all been willing to go, haven't they?" Tarkosa countered.

"Even the boy this morning. He was scared, sure, but he was also pretty excited. Face it, Jobe: most kids think it would be really cool to be a Jedi."

"My question is what they're going to do with all of them," Uliar put in.

"They going to throw everyone off one of the Dreadnaughts and build their own little Jedi Temple there?"

"I'm sure C'baoth has some ideas," Tarkosa said firmly. "Seems to me he's pretty much on top of things."

"Yeah," Uliar grunted. "Right."

For a few minutes none of them spoke. Uliar let his eyes drift around the number three messroom, as sterile and military looking as everything else aboard Outbound Flight. The people eating their dinners looked sterile and military, too, in their jumpsuits and other operational garb.

What the place needed was some character, he decided. Maybe he should get some people together and see if Commander Omano would let them redecorate the messrooms with different themes. Maybe a nice upscale Coruscant dinner club for one, a MidRim tapcaf for another, something really sleazy looking for a third, with people encouraged to dress the parts when they went to cat or drink "What do you know?" Keely said into his thoughts, nodding behind Uliar.

"There's one now."

Uliar turned. Sure enough, there was that Jinzler woman who'd dragged Dillian Pressor to a meeting when the man was supposed to be working. She was standing just inside the mess-room doorway, her head moving slowly as she scanned the occupants. A couple of the diners looked up at her, but most didn't even seem to notice she was there. "Trolling for more Jedi?"

he suggested.

"Don't seem to be many kids here," Keely pointed out, looking around.

"You suppose they're going to go after the adults next?"

"Maybe C'baoth's given them a quota to fill," Uliar said. "You know, like CorSec and traffic tickets."

"CorSec patrollers don't have quotas," Tarkosa said scornfully. "That's a myth."

"Well, if she's got one, she's not going to fill it tonight," Keely commented as Jinzler turned and left the room. "C'baoth's not going to be happy with her."

"If you ask me, I don't think C'baoth's ever happy with anything," Uliar said, picking up his mug. "I've never met anyone so full of himself."

"I had an instructor at the inst.i.tute just like him," Tarkosa said. "One night some of the students sneaked into his office, disa.s.sembled his desk, and rea.s.sembled it in the refresher station down the hall. I thought he was going to pop every blood vessel in his face when he saw it."

"But I'll bet it didn't solve anything," Keely commented. "People like that never learn." He turned to Uliar. "Speaking of solving things, Chas, did you ever figure out that line fluctuation problem you were having yesterday? We had to shut down the whole portside turbolaser system."

"Oh, yeah, we got it sorted it out," Uliar told him, dragging his mind away from Jedi and dull dining rooms. "This'll kill you. You know b'Crevnis, that big terminally cheerful Pho Ph'eahian who's supposed to be in charge of fluid-flow maintenance? It seems he managed to mislabel one of his own gauges . . ."

It took until the fourth D-4 messroom she visited, but Lorana finally found the Pressor family. "h.e.l.lo," she said, smiling as she walked up to their table. "How are you all doing tonight?"

"We're fine," Pressor said, his eyes suddenly wary as he looked up at her. "Is anything wrong?"

"That depends on how you look at it," Lorana said, kneeling down between Jorad and his mother. "I wanted to tell you, Jorad, that your retest again came up negative. I'm sorry."

The boy made a face. "That's okay," he said, clearly disappointed. "Mom and Dad said it probably wouldn't change."

"Moms and dads are smart that way," Lorana said. "I hope you're not too disappointed."

"I'm sure he'll get over it," the boy's mother said, a note of relief in her voice. "There are lots of other things he can do with his life."

"Yes," Lorana murmured, her brother's face flickering across her memory "We all have to accept our strengths and talents, and go on from there."

"Though sometimes with a little push," Pressor said grimly. "I hear you Jedi had some sort of standoff over on D-Two yesterday."

"I heard something about that," Lorana confirmed. "I wasn't there, so I can't say whether it was a standoff or not. I understand it was resolved peaceably, though."

"I heard the boy was hustled off to Jedi school," Pressor countered.

"Yet if that's his birthright, how can anyone deny it to him?" Lorana asked. "The life of a Jedi can be hard-and, yes, it requires sacrifice, from the parents as well as from the child. But anything that's worthwhile does."

"I suppose," Pressor said, clearly not convinced.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your meal now," Lorana said, getting to her feet again. "Thank you for your time."

"Thank you for stopping by," Pressor said.

"Good-bye, Jedi Lorana," Jorad added. For a moment his eyes seemed to linger on her lightsaber before he returned to his meal.

Lorana made her way back through the messroom, trying to get a sense of the people around her. Most of those along her path looked up casually as she pa.s.sed, then turned back to their food and conversations without any detectable change in their mood. Most of the ones seated farther away didn't even notice her. Everyone seemed more or less content, aside from the inevitable few working through annoyances from their shift work. If there was any growing resentment toward the Jedi, she couldn't detect it.

So perhaps her fears were for nothing. After all, they would all be aboard Outbound Flight for a long time yet, and even those who were upset at the way the children had been taken would eventually realize that more Jedi translated into a smoother and safer voyage.

But for now, it was time to get back to work. Some of the last-minute equipment that had been packed into the storage core needed to be shifted around to other areas. The crewers had enough hands and lifters for the job, but there was always the chance that one of the stacks of crates would shift unexpectedly, and it would be safer if a Jedi was present to keep that from happening. There would undoubtedly be injuries and deaths along the way, but Lorana had no intention of letting such incidents begin this soon. Not if she could help it.

Stepping out into the corridor, she headed toward the aft pylon turbolift. One of these days, she promised herself, she would see about getting a hold of one of those swoops Captain Pakmillu had said were aboard.

15.

. . .And this is the engine compartment," Thrawn said, stepping aside to let Thra.s.s look through the access hatchway into the Bargain Hunter's engine room. "You'll notice it has a radically differently layout from those of Chiss vessels this size."

"Yes," Thra.s.s said. He peered inside a moment, then turned to Car'das.

"What's the vessel's sublight range?"

"I'm not sure," Car'das said, looking over at Qennto. The other was standing off to one side with Maris, who was whispering a running translation to him. "Rak?" he invited in Basic.

"Why?" Qennto growled. "Is he looking to take it for a test run or something?"

"Come on, Rak," Car'das cajoled, carefully avoiding Thrawn' s eyes.

Qennto hadn't been happy about letting Thrawn give his brother this private tour of his ship, and he'd been wearing that annoyance on his sleeve ever since they'd arrived.

The problem was that either he didn't remember that Thrawn could now understand Basic, or else he just didn't care.

So far the commander hadn't responded to Qennto's snide comments, but that restraint was bound to have a limit. If he got tired enough of this and tossed Qennto back in the brig, even Maris might not be able to sweet-talk him out again.

Qennto rolled his eyes. "We can do six hundred hours of sublight before refueling," he said grudgingly. "Six fifty if we're careful with our acceleration."

"Thank you." Switching back to Minnisiat, Car'das translated for Thra.s.s.

"Impressive," the syndic said, taking another look at the engine compartment. "Their fuel efficiency must be slightly better than ours."

"Yes, but their hyperdrives appear to be more fragile," Thrawn said. "Our shock net attacks disabled both theirs and their attackers' without difficulty."

"Weaponry?"

"Simple but adequate," Thrawn told him. "The equipment is difficult to get to, but my experts have studied it at length. Their energy weapons and missiles are less sophisticated than ours, and they don't carry any shock nets or other disabling equipment. On the other hand, bear in mind that this is merely a small private freighter."

"True." Thra.s.s looked at Car'das. "Your people do have war vessels, I presume?"

"The Republic has no army of its own," Car'das said, choosing his words carefully. Peaceful watchfulness might be the Chiss way, but he still didn't want to make these people nervous. "Of course, most of our member systems have their own defense forces."

"Which can also be used for attack?"

"That does happen sometimes," Car'das conceded. "But the Supreme Chancellor can call on member systems to help stop an aggressor, and that usually ends things pretty quickly. Mediation by the Jedi can sometimes stop trouble before it gets that far."

"Jedi?"

"A cla.s.s of beings unknown to us," Thrawn told him. "Ferasi has been trying to explain them to me."

Car'das looked at Maris in surprise. He hadn't realized she'd been having private chats with the commander. Her eyes met his, ducked guiltily away, and for the first time since the session began her running translation faltered.

Qennto didn't miss any of it. His eyes narrowed, flicking to Maris, then Car'das, then back to Maris, and finally to the two Chiss.

"They appear able to access some unknown energy field," Thrawn continued to his brother. If he'd caught the interplay, he didn't show it. "It can be used for sensory enhancement, insight into others' motivations and thoughts, or as a direct weapon."

"But only for defense," Maris put in. "Jedi never attack first."

"You talking about Jedi?" Qennto put in. "Car'das? Did she say Jedi?"

"She's trying to describe the Jedi for him," Car'das said. "The Chiss apparently don't have anything like them."

"Good," Qennto grunted. "At least we top them in something. So what's she saying?"

"They were just talking about Jedi powers," Car'das said, looking at the two Chiss. Thrawn's face was expressionless, while Thra.s.s was clearly annoyed with this side conversation in a language he didn't understand.

"But we can talk about this later," he added.

"Yeah," Qennto said. "Sure."

They finished the rest of the tour and returned to the base. Car'das still couldn't tell what Thra.s.s thought of it all, but he found himself wilting with relief as he and the others were released to go back to their quarters. He'd half expected the syndic to order them all into the brig.

The relief was premature. Even as he started to pa.s.s Qennto and Maris's quarters and head toward his own, Qennto took his arm and hauled him bodily through the door. "What-?"