Outbound Flight

Chapter 14

The pylon turbolift car door opened into yet another spacious lobby area. "Okay," Anakin said, leaning out for a look. "And this one is"-he threw a not quite surreptitious look at the marking on the side-"Dreadnaught-Four?"

"Correct," C'baoth said, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder and pressing him forward out of the car. "We're now at the farthest side of Outbound Flight from the command ship, Dreadnaught- One."

"Rather like Tatooine in that respect," Obi-Wan added drily.

"Right," Anakin said. "Only cooler and less sandy."

"'Tatooine?" C'baoth asked.

"A small planet where Anakin grew up," Obi-Wan explained. "The locals like to say that it's the farthest point from the center of the universe, like Dreadnaught-Four's the farthest from Dreadnaught-One's command areas."

C'baoth nodded. "Ah."

Dreadnaught-Four's architecture and equipment, Obi-Wan noted, were identical to those of the other ships they'd visited on C'baoth's tour. Not really surprising, considering how the expedition had been put together. Also as in the other Dreadnaughts, the people passing through the corridors around them all seemed to be moving with a brisk, business-like step, their expressions cheerful, confident, and determined.

Small wonder. Against steep odds their grand adventure had finally begun, and the warm glow of that accomplishment was still with them.

"Jedi Master Justyn Ma'Ning is in charge of this particular Dreadnaught," C'baoth said as they headed aft. "I believe you spoke with him at the First Night dinner."

"Yes, we chatted for a few minutes," Obi-Wan said. "I thought Commander Omano was in charge of Dreadnaught-Four."

"I meant that Master Ma'Ning oversees Jedi operations and activities," C'baoth said. "He should be back in Conference Room Five with his two Jedi Knights and a select group of families. Let's go see how they're doing."

"What were these families selected for?" Obi-Wan asked.

"The highest honor possible," C'baoth said. "Over the next few days, one of each family's children will be starting Jedi training."

Obi-Wan stared at him. "Jeditraining?"

"Indeed," C'baoth confirmed. "You see, along with their basic technical skills, prospective colonists were also screened for the presence of Force-sensitive children. Those families with the most promise were given preferential status, though of course we kept that a secret up until now. We have eleven candidates in all, including the three here in Dreadnaught-Four."

"How old are these children?" Obi-Wan asked.

"They range in age from four to ten," C'baoth said. He cocked an eyebrow at Anakin. "Which is, I believe, the same age Master Skywalker was when you took him as your Padawan."

"It is," Obi-Wan confirmed, feeling his lip twist. For centuries standard Temple policy had been to accept only infants into Jedi training, and C'baoth knew it. Unfortunately, Anakin was a glaring exception to that rule, an exception C'baoth clearly intended to use as his justification for this. "What about their parents?"

"What about them?"

"They've all given their permission for this training?"

"They will," C'baoth assured him. "As I said, giving a child to the Jedi is the highest honor possible."

"So you haven't actually asked them yet?"

"Of course not," C'baoth said, an edge of puzzlement creeping into his tone. "What parent wouldn't be proud to have a Jedi son or daughter?"

Obi-Wan braced himself. "But if for some reason they don't see it that way-"

"Later," C'baoth interrupted, gesturing to a door to their right. "We're here."

The conference room was one of many midsize meeting areas scattered around a typical Dreadnaught. At the far end, standing beside a podium, was Jedi Master Ma'Ning, listening intently to a question from a woman in the front row. Flanking him, dressed in Jedi robes, were a pair of Duros.

And seated in the rows of chairs in front of them, nearly packing the available space, were perhaps forty men, women, and children. Far more than the three families C'baoth had implied would be here.

C'baoth was clearly surprised, too. "What in the. .?" he rumbled under his breath, his eyes flashing as he looked around.

"Maybe they brought their friends?" Anakin suggested hesitantly.

"Friends were not invited," C'baoth growled. He started to move forward, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he gave an impatient gesture to his right. Turning that direction, Obi-Wan saw Lorana Jinzler detach herself from the back wall where she'd been standing and walk over to them.

She nodded in greeting as she reached them. "Master C'baoth," she said quietly. "Master Ma'Ning said you might drop in on us."

"And it's fortunate that I did," C'baoth said. His voice was low, but Obi-Wan could see a few of the people in the back row starting to look around to see what was going on. "What are all these people doing here?"

"Master Ma'Ning invited all the secondaries and their families, as well," Lorana told him.

"Secondaries?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Those with a small amount of latent Force sensitivity, too small for them to ever become Jedi," C'baoth said, glowering across the room at Ma'Ning. "What aboutyou, Jedi Jinzler? Why aren't you attending to your duties on Dreadnaught-One?"

"Master Ma'Ning asked me to come," she said, her voice a little strained.

C'baoth rumbled deep in his throat. "I see," he said darkly.

They waited in silence as Ma'Ning answered the question he'd been asked-something about ration redistribution for those whose children would be undergoing the training-and called for more questions. There were none, and with a final word of thanks he called the meeting to a close.

And as the audience began to gather themselves together, C'baoth strode down the aisle toward the front. Obi-Wan followed, Anakin and Lorana at his sides. As near as Obi-Wan could tell from the snatches of conversation he could hear, most of the people did indeed seem pleased or even excited by the fact that they had future Jedi in their families.

Most of them. But not all.

Ma'Ning nodded in greeting as the group approached. "Master C'baoth," he said. "Master Kenobi; Young Sky-"

"What do you mean by bringing the secondaries to this meeting?" C'baoth demanded.

"I thought it would be useful to let everyone know at once why they'd been selected to fly on Outbound Flight," Ma'Ning said. His voice was calm, but Obi-Wan could see tension lines at the corners of his eyes. "Since the secondaries are the ones most likely to produce Jedi offspring in the future, I thought they should know what to expect."

"That could have been dealt with if and when it happened,"

C'baoth growled. "This is not how it should have been."

"Noneof it is as it should be," Ma'Ning countered. "Children this age-andtaking them from their families by force-"

"By force?" Obi-Wan put in.

"I don't expect force to be necessary," C'baoth insisted, glaring at Obi-Wan and Ma'Ning in turn. "The few parents who have doubts will undoubtedly come around. Certainly the children themselves will be thrilled to begin their training."

"The question remains why we're even doing this," Ma'Ning said.

"We're doing this because we're setting off on a long and dangerous trip," C'baoth told him. "We'll need all the Jedi we can get, far more than Master Yoda would permit me to invite.

Very well; so we will raise them up by ourselves. And please don't quote me that learned nonsense about how young a Jedi candidate has to be, because that's all it is: nonsense."

"Master Yoda would disagree with you," Ma'Ning said.

"Then Master Yoda would be wrong," C'baoth said flatly. "We don't train children or adults because we choose not to. That's theonly reason." He gestured at Anakin. "Padawan Skywalker is proof that older children are trainable."

Ma'Ning's lip twitched. "Perhaps," he conceded. "But there are other reasons for accepting only infants."

"What other reasons?" C'baoth asked. "Tradition? Politics? There's certainly nothing in the Code itself that specifically speaks to the issue."

"Actually, that's not true," Obi-Wan put in. "The writings of Master Simikarty are very clear on the subject."

"Master Simikarty's writings are his interpretations of the Code, not part of the Code itself," C'baoth said. "More tradition, under a different name."

"You do not approve of tradition?" one of the Duros asked.

"I don't approve of simply and blindly accepting it as truth," C'baoth told him. "Nor can we afford to do so. The lists of Jedi are shrinking all across the Republic. If we're to continue our role as the guardians of peace and justice, wemust find ways to increase our numbers."

"By forcibly taking trainees from their parents?" Ma'Ning asked. "Especially considering the fact that none of these parents had wanted their children to become Jedi in the first place?"

"What makes you think that?" C'baoth asked.

"The fact that if they had, they'd have taken them for testing when they were infants," Ma'Ning said.

"Perhaps there were other reasons," C'baoth rumbled. "But all right, yes, the parents have always made the decision whether or not their children would be trained. More tradition. But what about the child's wishes? Wouldn't it be more ethical to allow him or her to make that decision?"

"But as Master Ma'Ning says, thereare good reasons for accepting only infants," Obi-Wan said.

"Most of which don't apply here," C'baoth said firmly. "There are no deep-rooted family hierarchies aboard Outbound Flight to deal with. Nor will the children be going hundreds or thousands of light-years away to the Temple on Coruscant where their families will never see them again." Beside C'baoth, Lorana stirred but remained silent. "No, here they'll be merely a turbolift ride away in the storage core," C'baoth continued. "After some initial training, we might even consider allowing them occasional evenings with their families."

"You're putting them in thestorage core? " Ma'Ning asked, frowning.

"I want the training center as far away from noise and mental confusion as possible," C'baoth told him. "There's plenty of room down there."

Ma'Ning shook his head. "I still don't like this, Master C'baoth."

"New ideas are always discomfiting, as are new ways of doing things," C'baoth said, looking at each of the others in turn. "In many ways all of Outbound Flight is a grand experiment. And remember that if we're successful, we may return to the Republic with the key to a complete reinvigoration of the entire Jedi Order."

"And if wedon't succeed?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Then we fail," C'baoth said stiffly. "But we won't." Obi-Wan looked at Ma'Ning. The other still didn't look happy, but it was clear he didn't have any fresh arguments to offer.

Besides, C'baoth was right. Something new had to be tried if the Jedi Order was going to survive.

And once upon a time, according to the histories, the Jedihad been willing to take risks.

"All right," Ma'Ning said at last. "We'll try this grand experiment of yours. But move carefully, Master C'baoth. Move very carefully."

"Of course," C'baoth said, as if there were no doubt. "Then all that remains is to prepare the training center." He turned to Lorana. "Since you're here, Jedi Jinzler, you will see to that."

Lorana bowed her head. "Yes, Master C'baoth."

"And in the future," C'baoth added, looking back at Ma'Ning, "you'll check with me before you take any of my Jedi from their assigned duties."

Ma'Ning's lip twisted slightly, but he, too, bowed his head. "As you wish, Master C'baoth."

C'baoth held his eves a moment longer, then turned to Obi-Wan and Anakin. "And now, we'll continue our tour," he said, gesturing toward the door.

He strode down the aisle toward the rear, ignoring the small clusters of crewers still conversing quietly among themselves, and out into the corridor. "You mentioned Jedi duties," Obi-Wan said as they turned aft. "What exactly will you be wanting us to do?"

"At the moment, the sorts of things you've always done," C'baoth said. "Patrolling Outbound Flight and assisting where you're needed. Later, I'll want you to assist with the training of our prospective Jedi. And, of course, we'll be needed to maintain order aboard the ships."

"I hadn't noticed a great deal of disorder," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"There will be," C'baoth said grimly. "This many people can't live this closely together without friction. Even before we leave the Unknown Regions, I fully expect we'll be regularly called upon to resolve disputes among passengers, as well as organizing proper rules of conduct."

Rules of conduct?" Wouldn't that sort of thing be Captain Pakmillu's responsibility?" Obi-Wan asked carefully.

"Captain Pakmillu will have his hands full with the physical requirements of running Outbound Flight," C'baoth said. "Besides, we're the best qualified for such tasks."

"As long as we remember that our role is to advise and mediate," Obi-Wan cautioned. " Jedi serve others rather than ruling over them, for the good of the galaxy.' "

"I said nothing about ruling over anyone."

"But if we take over Captain Pakmillu's job of keeping order, isn't that essentially what we're doing?" Obi-Wan asked. "Mediation offered with the underlying threat of compulsion hardly qualifies as mediation."

"As I threatened the two sides on Barlok?" C'baoth asked pointedly.

Obi-Wan hesitated. He remembered feeling uncomfortable with the tone C'baoth had used to the two sides in the aftermath of the abortive missile attack. Had he in fact overstepped his bounds by forcing them to accept his terms? Or had the compulsion merely come from the attack itself, coupled with their sudden and sobering recognition that the negotiations were no longer purely matters of charts and abstract numbers?

And what was C'baoth's connection, if any, to that attack? That was a question he was still no closer to answering.

"Theydid need someone to tell them what to do," Anakin offered into his thoughts. "And we're supposed to have wisdom and insight that non-Jedi don't have."

"Sometimes wisdom requires us to stand by and do nothing," Obi-Wan said, Windu's words back at the Temple echoing through his mind. Still, if the Council had reprimanded C'baoth for his actions, Windu hadn't mentioned it. "Otherwise people might never learn how to handle problems by themselves."

"And such wisdom comes only through a close understanding of the Force," C'baoth said, his tone indicating the discussion was over. "As you will learn, young Skywalker." He gestured ahead. "Now, down here we have the central weapons and shield cluster. ."

C'baoth and the others disappeared through the conference room door. Lorana watched them go, sighing with tiredness and frustration.

Why had Ma'Ning asked her here, anyway? Because she presumably knew C'baoth better than anyone else aboard? If so, she certainly hadn't been of much use during the discussion. Was she supposed to have joined the others in objecting to his Jedi training plan, then? Well, she'd failed on that account, too.

"Is he always this overbearing?"

Lorana turned back around. The two Duros had wandered away and were talking quietly together, but Ma'Ning was still standing there, eyeing her thoughtfully. "He didn't seem particularly overbearing to me," she said, automatically rising to her Master's defense.

"Perhaps it's just his personality," Ma'Ning said. But there was a knowing look on his face. Maybe he'd seen other Jedi come to C'baoth's defense before, for the same reasons Lorana had. Whatever those reasons were. "Tell me, what do you think of this scheme of his?"

"You mean the training of older children?" She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. It's all new to me."

"He hasn't talked about this before?"

"No," she said. "At least, not to me."

"Mm," Ma'Ning said, pursing his lips. "It's an interesting concept, certainly. And he's right: there have been exceptions in the past, most of whom have worked out fine."

"Like Anakin?"

"Perhaps," Ma'Ning said cautiously. "Though until a Padawan actually achieves Jedi Knighthood, there's always the danger he or she might fall away. I'm not expecting that of Skywalker, of course."

"No," Lorana agreed. "If you'll excuse me, Master Ma'Ning, I need to find some crewers to help me start organizing the new training center."

"Certainly," Ma'Ning said, nodding. "I'll speak with you later."

He stepped over to the two Duros, joining in their conversation. Three Jedi, holding a private discussion among themselves.

With Lorana on the outside. As if she were still just a Padawan.

Still, shehad said she was leaving. Maybe that was all it was. Taking a deep breath, putting such thoughts from her mind, she headed down the aisle toward the door.

She was nearly there when a man stepped partway into her path. "Your pardon, Jedi," he said tentatively. "A word, if I may?"

"Certainly," Lorana said, focusing on him for the first time. He was a typical crewer, young and bright-eyed, with short dark hair and a hint of greasy dirt on the collar of his jumpsuit. Summoned directly from his shift to Ma'Ning's meeting, probably. Behind him stood a young woman with a sleeping infant in one arm and a boy of five or six standing close beside her. Her free hand was resting on the boy's shoulder. "How can I help you?"

"My name's Dillian Pressor," the man said, gesturing back to the others. "My son, Jorad, has a question."

"All right," Lorana said, stepping over to the boy, noting that as she approached the woman seemed to tighten her grip on her son's shoulder. "Hello, Jorad," she said cheerfully, dropping to one knee in front of him.

He gazed at her, his expression a mix of uncertainty and awe. "Are you really a Jedi?" he asked.

"Yes, indeed," she assured him. "I'm Jedi Jinzler. Can you say that?"

He pursed his lips uncertainly. "Jedi Jisser?"

"Jinzler," his father said. "Jinzler."

"Jedi Jissler," the boy tried again.

"Or we could just make it Jedi Lorana," Lorana suggested. "You have a question for me?"

The boy threw an uncertain look up at his mother's face. Then, steeling himself, he looked back at Lorana. "Master Ma'Ning said only the people he called were going to be Jedi," he said. "I wanted to know if I could be one, too."

Lorana glanced up at the woman, noting the tight lines in her face. "I'm afraid it's not something any of us has a say in," she said. "If you aren't born with Force sensitivity, we can't train you to be a Jedi. I'm sorry."

"Well, what if I got better?" Jorad persisted. "He said the rest of us were close, and it's been a long time since they tested us. Maybe I got better."

"Maybe you did," Lorana said. In theory, of course, he couldn't. Force sensitivity could be nurtured, but not created.

On the other hand, C'baothhad said these were the families who had low but non-negligible sensitivity. It was at least theoretically possible that the boy's testing had been inaccurate. "I tell you what," she said. "I'll talk to Master Ma'Ning about having you tested again, all right? If you've gotten better, we'll see if we can get you into the program."

Jorad's eyes lit up. "Okay," he said. "When can I do it?"

"I'll talk to Master Ma'Ning," she repeated, wondering if she'd already promised more than she could deliver. "He'll set it up with your father."

"Jorad?" the boy's mother prompted.

"Thank you," Jorad said dutifully.

"You're welcome," Lorana said, standing up and looking at the baby in her mother's arm. "Is this your sister?"

"Yes, that's Katarin," Jorad said. "She mostly just cries a lot."

"That's what babies do best," Lorana agreed, looking at the mother and then Dillian. "Thank you all for coming."

"No problem," Dillian said, taking his son's hand and stepping to the door. It opened, and he ushered the boy out into the corridor. "Thank you again, Jedi Jinzler."

"Jedi Lorana," Jorad corrected him.

Almost unwillingly, Dillian smiled. "Jedi Lorana," he amended. Holding out a hand to his wife, he led her out behind Jorad?

"Thereyou are," an irritated voice called down the corridor.

Lorana stepped out into the corridor behind the others. Striding toward them was a young man with dirtwater-colored hair, his mouth set in a thin line as he glared at Dillian. "What the brix are you doing here, Pressor?"

"It was a special meeting," Dillian said, gesturing toward Lorana. "This is Jedi Lorana Jinzler-"

"Since when do you skip out in the middle of a duty shift for a meeting?" the man cut in. "In case you've forgotten, it's a little difficult to do a hyperdrive reactor communication deep-check without the hyperdrive man actually being there."

"I know," Pressor said, giving Jorad's hand to his mother. "Sorry-I thought we'd be done sooner than this."

"Well, you weren't." The man shifted his glare to Lorana. "Is this going to be a regular occurrence around here, Jedi Jinzler?"

"What do you mean, ah. .?"

"Chas Uliar," the man said shortly. "I mean you Jedi coming in and messing with our work schedules."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Lorana said.

"Two days ago Master Ma'Ning pulled everyone off systems control for a coolant-leak drill," Uliar said. "Never mind that we've already done five of them in the past month. Now you're calling special bounce-of-the-moment meetings that pull people off important duty stations. What's on line for tomorrow? Escape pod practice?"

"Is there a problem, Uliar?" Ma'Ning's voice came from behind them.

Lorana turned as Ma'Ning stepped out into the corridor. "I just want to get my day's work done in peace so that I can sleep the sleep of the virtuous," Uliar said with a hint of sarcasm. "Or do I need to make a formal requisition for that?"

"Not at all," Ma'Ning assured him. "Pressor, you're free to return to your station."

"Thank you," Pressor said.

"And in the future we'll try to be more considerate of the various work schedules," Ma'Ning added to Uliar.

"Fine," Uliar said, a little less truculently. "Come on, Pressor. Let's try to get this done before the next shift comes on."

He headed back down the corridor at a fast walk. "See you later," Pressor said, touching his wife's arm and then hurrying after him.

"Good-bye, Jedi Lorana," Jorad said gravely, looking up at her. "I hope we'll see you again."

"I'm sure you will, Jorad," Lorana said, smiling at the boy. "You take good care of your little sister, okay?"

"I will." Holding his mother's hand tightly, he headed the other direction down the corridor.

"Sounds like an irritable sort," Lorana commented to Ma'Ning.

"Who, Uliar?" The Master shrugged. "A bit. Still, he's got a point about us changing things around with no notice. You might want to speak to Master C'baoth about that."

"I thought he saidyou'd called for the coolant-leak drill."

"Under Master C'baoth's orders." Ma'Ning smiled wryly. "And he's right-wedo have an escape pod drill scheduled for later this week."

Lorana nodded. "I'll talk to him," she promised.

They were six standard days out of Yaga Minor and had stopped for a routine navigational check in Lonnaw system when the trouble started.

A crowd had already gathered in the Dreadnaught-2 aft passenger section when Obi-Wan arrived. "Let me through, please," he said, starting to ease his way through the mass of people.

"Look-there's another one," a Rodian voice muttered.

"Another one what?" Obi-Wan asked, turning in that direction.

"Another Jedi," the Rodian said, looking him square in the face.

"Easy, Feeven," a man nearby cautioned. "Don't start pointing blame."

"Can you tell me what happened?" Obi-Wan asked.

"What happened is thieves in the night," the Rodian bit out. "Thieves with robes and lightsabers."

"Feeven, shutup," the man said. He looked at Obi-Wan, lowered his eyes. "They came for someone's kid, that's all."

"In the middle of the night," Feeven insisted.

"What night?" the man scoffed. "This is space. It's always night here."

"The family was sleeping," Feeven countered. "That makes it night."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said, easing away from them and continuing on through the crowd. Middle of ship's night or not, perhaps he ought to give C'baoth a call.

There was no need. He reached the open area in the center of the crowd to find that C'baoth was already there. "Master C'baoth," he said, taking in the rest of the scene with a glance. Standing in the doorway to one of the rooms was a hulking figure of a man, his hands gripping the sides of the doorway as if daring anyone to pass. Behind him in the room was a frantic-eyed woman kneeling on the floor clutching a young boy tightly to her. The child himself looked frightened but also oddly intent.

C'baoth half turned to frown at him. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "You should be sleeping."

"I heard there was some commotion," Obi-Wan said, crossing to the doorway. "Hello," he said to the man.

"You're not taking him," the other said flatly. "I don't care how many of you there are, you're not taking him."

"You have no choice," C'baoth said flatly. "As Jedi Master Evrios explained to you nearly a week ago. Your son is a potential Jedi, and he's agreed to enter training. That means he comes with us."

"Says who?" the man retorted. "Ship's law says decisions about children are made by their parents. I looked it up."

"Ship's law wasn't written to cover this situation," C'baoth said. "It therefore doesn't apply."

"So now you just throw out the law when it doesn't suit you?"

"Of course we don't throw it out," C'baoth said. "We merely rewrite it."

"Who does?" the man demanded. "You Jedi?"

"Captain Pakmillu is the final legal authority aboard Outbound Flight," Obi-Wan put in. "We'll call him and ask-"

"Hemay be the final legal authority," C'baoth said, cutting him off with a warning glare. "That remains to be seen."

Obi-Wan felt an uncomfortable tingling across his skin. "What do you mean?"

"Outbound Flight is first and foremost a Jedi project," C'baoth reminded him. "Jedi requirements therefore supersede all other authority."

Obi-Wan took a careful breath, suddenly aware of the people silently pressing around them. "May I see you for a moment, Master C'baoth? In private?"

"Later," C'baoth said, craning his neck over the crowd. "Captain Pakmillu has arrived."

Obi-Wan turned to see the crowd opening up to let Pakmillu through. Even dragged out of bed as he must have been, the Mon Cal's uniform was still immaculate. "Master C'baoth," he said, his voice even more gravelly than usual. "Master Kenobi. What is the problem?"

"They want to take my son away from me," the man in the door bit out.

"The boy is to enter Jedi training," C'baoth said calmly. "His father seeks to deny him that right."

"What right?" the man snapped. "His right? Our right? Your right?"

"The Jedi are the guardians of peace," C'baoth reminded him. "As such-"

"Maybe in theRepublic you are," the man cut in. "But that's why we're leaving the Republic, isn't it? To get away from arbitrary rules and capricious justice and-"

"Perhaps we should wait until morning to discuss this," Obi-Wan interrupted. "I think we'll all be calmer and clearer of mind then."

"There's no need for that," C'baoth insisted.

"Master Kenobi speaks wisdom," Pakmillu said. "We'll meet tomorrow after morning meal in Dreadnaught-Two's forward command conference room." His eyes rolled to first the man and then C'baoth. "There you'll both have an opportunity to present your arguments, as well as relevant articles of Republic law."

C'baoth exhaled loudly. "Very well, Captain," he said. "Until tomorrow." With a final look at the man and boy, he strode off, the crowd opening up even faster for him than it had for Pakmillu. Obi-Wan followed, making it through the gap before it closed again.

For the first hundred meters they walked in silence. Obi-Wan was starting to wonder if C'baoth even knew he had tagged along when the other finally spoke. "You shouldn't have done that, Master Kenobi," C'baoth rumbled. "Jedi should never argue in public."

"I was unaware that trying to clarify a situation qualified as arguing," Obi-Wan said, stretching to the Force for patience. "Though if it comes to that, a Jedi should never deliberately antagonize the people he's supposed to be serving, either."

"Taking a child into Jedi training is not antagonism."

"Doing so in the middle of the night is," Obi-Wan countered. "There's no reason that couldn't have waited until morning." He paused. "Unless, of course, you were deliberately trying to force the issue of control."

He'd hoped the other would instantly and hotly deny it. But C'baoth merely looked sideways at him. "And why would I do that?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said. "Particularly since the Code specifically forbids Jedi to rule over others."

"Does it? Does it really?"

Obi-Wan felt a tingling at the back of his neck. "We've already had this discussion," he reminded the other.

"And my position remains the same as it was then," C'baoth said. "The Jedi Order has accumulated many rules over the centuries that are clearly erroneous. Why should this not be one of them?"

"Because Jedi aren't equipped to rule," Obi-Wan said. "Because seeking power is the dark side."

"How do you know?" C'baoth demanded. "When was the last time we were ever given the opportunity to try?"

"I know because the Code says so," Obi-Wan said flatly. "We're here to guide, not become dictators."

"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 Kenobi. 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 assured 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. Whyshouldn'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 Kenobi. 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."

"Myquestion 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 withher."

"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 institute just like him," Tarkosa said. "One night some of the students sneaked into his office, disassembled his desk, and reassembled 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. "Hello," 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 passed, 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.