Star Wars: Outbound Flight

18

Outbound Flight,“ Qennto repeated, frowning off into space as he slowly shook his head. ”Nope. Never heard of it.“

“Me, neither,” Maris seconded. “And you say this Kav and Stratis want to destroy it?”

“Kav and whoever,” Car’das said. “Thrawn thinks Stratis is an alias.”

“Fine; Kav and Master No One,” Qennto said impatiently. “So why do they want to destroy it?”

Car’das shrugged. “Stratis spun a big loop pastry about how dangerous the Jedi are and how they want to take over and make everyone to do things their way. But that has to be a lie.”

“Not necessarily,” Qennto said. “A lot of people out there are starting to wonder about the Jedi.”

“They’re certainly helping to prop up the Coruscant bureaucracy,” Maris pointed out. “Anyone who wants genuine government reform will have to persuade the Jedi to change sides.”

“Or else kill them,” Qennto said.

Maris shivered. “I can’t believe it would ever come to that.”

“Well, Stratis sure wasn’t talking about persuasion,”

Car’das said. “What about these Dreadnaughts? You ever hear of them?”

“Yeah, they’re Rendili StarDrive’s latest gift to the militarily obsessed,” Qennto said. “Six hundred meters long, with heavy shields and a whole bunch of upgraded turbolaser cannons, most of them clustered in four midline bubbles where they can deliver a terrific broadside volley. Normal crew runs around sixteen thousand, with room for another two or three thousand troops. I hear the Corporate Sector’s been buying them up like Transland Day souvenirs, and some of the bigger Core Worlds aren’t far behind.”

“Has Coruscant been doing any of the buying?” Maris asked.

Qennto shrugged. “There’s been talk lately about the Republic finally getting its own army and a genuine battle fleet.

But they’ve been talking that way for years, and nothing’s ever come of it.”

“So with six Dreadnaughts, we’re talking up to a hundred thousand people aboard Outbound Flight?” Car’das asked.

“Probably no more than half that,” Qennto said. “A lot of the standard jobs would be duplicated among the ships.

Besides that, you want to build in extra elbow room on a long-term colony ship.”

“That’s still a lot of people to kill if all they want is to get at a few Jedi,” Maris pointed out.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure your noble-minded Commander Thrawn won’t fall for it,” Qennto said sourly.

“But even if Thrawn doesn’t cooperate, Stratis still has an intact Trade Federation battleship on hand,” Car’das reminded them. “That’s a lot of firepower, and they might have more of them on the way.”

“So what do we do?” Maris asked.

“We do nothing,” Qennto said firmly. “It’s not our job to look out for this Outbound Flight.”

“But we can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Maris protested. “No, we can run like scalded hawk-bats,” Qennto retorted.

“And I’m thinking this would be a real good time to do just that.”

“But—”

“Maris,” Qennto said, cutting her off with an uplifted hand. “It’s not our problem. You hear me? It’s not our problem.

If the Jedi are going to go flying off into the Unknown Regions, it’s up to them to figure out how to protect themselves. It’s up to us to figure out how to get ourselves out of here. That is, if you think you can drag yourself away from all this nobility and culture.”

“That’s not fair,” Maris protested, her eyes hard even as a touch of pink colored her cheeks.

“Whatever.” Qennto turned back to Car’das. “You’re his confidant these days, kid. You think you can sweet-talk him into letting us have that Vagaari loot his brother locked away?”

He jerked a thumb at Maris. “Or should I ask Maris to do it?”

“Rak—” Maris began.

“I don’t think sweet talk is going to be the issue,”

Car’das said hastily. The tension between Qennto and Maris was starting to drift into the red zone again. “He can’t give it to us unless his brother and Admiral Ar’alani both let him.”

“So how do we get Ar’alani back here?” Maris asked.

“We don’t have to,” Car’das said grimly, glancing at his chrono. “As a matter of fact, Thrawn’s probably welcoming her onto the base right now.”

“Great,” Qennto said, brightening. “Let’s get our hearing, get our loot, and get out of here.”

“I don’t think so,” Car’das said. “She’s here to see whether or not Thrawn should be relieved of command.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. “That’s insane,” Mavis said at last. “He’s a good commander. He’s a good man.”

“And when did either of those ever matter?” Qennto muttered. “Oh, boy. And she was already dead set against giving us the Vagaari stuff. This is not good.”

“Can’t you for one minute forget about your loot?”

Maris asked crossly. “This is Thrawn’s career and life we’re talking about.”

“No, I can’t forget about the loot,” Qennto countered.

“In case you’ve forgotten, sweetheart, we’re already two and a half months late getting Drixo her furs and firegems. The only thing that’s going to keep us alive when we finally show up is if we have something extra to calm her down with.”

Maris grimaced. “I know,” she murmured.

“So what do we do?” Car’das asked.

“What you’re going to do is convince them to hand it over,” Qennto said. “And don’t ask how,” he added as Car’das opened his mouth. “Beg, cajole, bribe—whatever it takes.”

“You’re the only one who can do it,” Maris agreed soberly. “Anytime Rak or I even step outside our quarters, we have an escort following us around.”

Car’das sighed. “I’ll do what I can.”

“And don’t forget this is a limited-time window,”

Qennto warned. “Right now, we have at least half an ally in Thrawn. If he gets the boot, we won’t have even that much.”

Briefly, Car’das wondered what they would say if he told them Thrawn had publicly accused all three of them of espionage. But there was no point in worrying them any more than they were already. “I’ll do what I can,” he said again, getting to his feet. “See you later.”

He left their quarters and started down the corridor.

Ar’alani’s welcoming ceremony was probably over, but she and Thrawn were most likely still together. Probably talking about Thrass’s accusations; Ar’alani hadn’t struck him as the sort who would waste any more time with ceremonial niceties than necessary. Maybe he could leave word with one of Thrawn’s officers that he wanted to see the commander at his earliest convenience.

“So you do have free run of the base.”

Car’das turned. Thrass was coming up behind him, his expression giving no hint as to what was going on behind those glowing eyes. “Syndic Mittlfras’safis,” Car’das greeted him, fighting to get his brain online again. “Forgive my surprise; I assumed you’d be with your brother and the admiral.”

Thrass inclined his head. “Come with me, please.” He turned and strode off down the corridor. With his pulse pounding uncomfortably in his throat, Car’das followed.

Thrass led the way to the upper level of the base, where Thrawn and the senior officers had their quarters. They passed a few warriors along the way, none of whom gave either the syndic or the human so much as a curious glance, and finally arrived at a door marked with Cheunh symbols that Car’das couldn’t quite decipher. “In here,” Thrass said, opening the door and gesturing inside. Bracing himself, Car’das stepped past him into the room.

He found himself in a small conference room with half a dozen computer-equipped chairs arranged in a circle around a central hologrammic display. Seated on the far side of the circle, resplendent in her white uniform, was Admiral Ar’alani. “Be seated, Car’das,” she said in Cheunh as Thrass stepped into the room behind him.

“Thank you, Admiral,” Car’das said in the same language as he took the seat directly across from her. “Welcome back.” She nodded acknowledgment, studying him thoughtfully as Thrass sat down in the chair to her right. “Your proficiency in Cheunh has improved,” she commented. “My compliments.”

“Thank you,” Car’das said again. “It’s a beautiful language to listen to. I only regret that I’ll never speak it as well as a Chiss.”

“No, you won’t,” Ar’alani agreed. “I understand you were with Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo on this latest military venture. Tell us what happened.”

Car’das glanced at Thrass, back at Ar’alani. “Forgive my impertinence, but shouldn’t you ask Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo about this instead of me?”

“We will,” Ar’alani assured him darkly “Right now, we’re asking you. Tell us about this latest act of aggression.”

Car’das took a deep breath. “First of all, it wasn’t really an act of aggression,” he said, picking his words carefully “It was an expedition to investigate unknown warships that had been reported in the area.”

“Vessels that wouldn’t have been reported at all if Mitth’raw’nuruodo wasn’t already inclined to premature military action,” Ar’alani pointed out.

Beside her, Thrass stirred in his seat. “The Expansionary Fleet’s charter does require observation and exploration in the regions around the Chiss Ascendancy,” he said.

“Observation and exploration,” Ar’alani countered.

“Not unprovoked military action.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Or do you deny military action was taken and Chiss casualties sustained?”

Car’das frowned. Thrawn hadn’t mentioned anything about casualties. “I was unaware that any Chiss warriors hadbeen lost.”

“The Whirlwind did not return from the battle,”

Ar’alani said.

“Oh,” Car’das said, breathing a little easier. Of course; the missing cruiser was still at the battle scene, keeping the Darkvenge pinned down with the Vagaari gray projector. But he obviously couldn’t tell Ar’alani that. “I still maintain that Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo fought only in self-defense.”

“Did the unknown enemy fire first?”

“The firing of weapons isn’t always the first act of aggression,” Car’das hedged, once again feeling as if he were walking a narrow board over a pit of gundarks. “The Trade Federation battleships launched a massive force of droid starfighters. I’ve read reports of battles in which these weapons were used, and if Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo hadn’t acted to neutralize them, his force would quickly have been overwhelmed.”

“Perhaps,” Ar’alani said. “We’ll know better once you’ve shown us around the battle zone.”

Car’das felt his mouth go suddenly dry “Around the…

?”

“You object?” Ar’alani demanded.

“Well, for starters, I don’t even know where it is,”

Car’das said, stalling for time as he thought furiously. If Ar’alani found the Darkvenge sitting out there.

“The location isn’t a problem,” Ar’alani assured him, holding up a slender cylinder tapered at both ends. “I have the last two months’ worth of the Springhawk‘s navigational data.”

Car’das fought back a grimace. Terrific. “All right,” he said. “But shouldn’t we check first with Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo?”

“We’re going now precisely because I don’t want Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo to know about it,” Ar’alani said.

“I’ve sent him on a security sweep of the nearby systems, which should give us time to examine the battle zone and return.” Her eyes glittered. “And only then will we ask for his version of the battle.”

“Preparing for first target,” C’baoth said, his deep voice sounding strained as it resonated from the low ceiling of the weapons blister. “Firing now” His hands moved in an almost dream-like way over the controls, and there was a flicker of indicator lights as one of Dreadnaught-1’s sets of turbolasers delivered a massive broadside blast.

Standing near the blister’s doorway, Obi-Wan stretched out to the Force. On the other side of the Dreadnaught, he could sense Lorana Jinzler also firing her turbolasers, while all the way on the far side of Outbound Flight on Dreadnaught-4

Ma’Ning and the two Duros Jedi did the same.

“Whoa,” Anakin muttered at his side. “That’s…

intense.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan agreed, eyeing C’baoth closely. This was the Jedi Master’s third meld today, and the strain of the procedure had to be getting to him. But if it was, Obi-Wan couldn’t detect it in the other’s face or sense.

He’d always assumed that at least part of C’baoth’s unshakable confidence in himself was either an act or else a vast overestimation of his actual abilities. Now, for the first time, he began to wonder if the man might actually be as strong in the Force as he claimed.

“Spotter control: all test-one volleys on target,” a voice reported from the comm panel.

“Pretty good,” Anakin muttered.

“Very good, you mean,” Obi-Wan said. “Can you sense any of Master C’baoth’s commands, or just the presence of the meld itself?”

“I don’t know,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan could sense the boy tightening his concentration.

“Preparing for second target,” C’baoth announced.

“Spotter control ready.”

“Firing now,” C’baoth said.

Again, the indicators flickered. “Target two hit,” the spotter reported. “One flier.”

“What’s a flier?” Anakin asked.

“It means one of the shots missed the target,” Obi-Wan told him, frowning. There’d been something odd on that last shot, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Stretching out again to the Force, this time focusing on the edges of the meld instead of on its center, he tried to track it down.

“Preparing for third target,” C’baoth said. “Firing now.” And this time, as the indicators once again flickered, Obi-Wan saw it.

C’baoth had set up a total of six targets in this exercise. Obi-Wan forced himself to wait until all six had been destroyed, the last four with as impressive an accuracy quotient as the first two.

The spotter delivered his final report, and with a shaking jerk of his head C’baoth broke the meld. For a few seconds he just sat there, blinking rapidly as the last tendrils of connection between him and his fellow Jedi dissolved completely away. Then, taking a deep breath, he exhaled a long sigh and turned to Obi-Wan and Anakin. “What did you think, Young Skywalker?”

“Very intense,” Anakin said. “I’ve ever seen anything like it before. When can I try it?”

“Not until after you’ve completed your training,”

C’baoth said. “This isn’t something Padawans should be foolingaround with.”

“But I could handle it,” Anakin insisted. “I’m very strong in the Force—you can ask Obi-Wan—”

“When you’re a Jedi,” C’baoth said firmly, his forehead wrinkling slightly as he shifted his eyes to Obi-Wan. “You have a question, Master Kenobi?”

“If you have a moment, yes,” Obi-Wan said, trying to keep his voice casual. “Anakin, why don’t you head back to Reactor Two and see if they’re ready for us to help with that cooling-rod bundle yet. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Anakin said, his forehead wrinkling briefly as he left the room.

“Well?” C’baoth asked, making the word a challenge.

“You had D-Four’s Padawans in the weapons blisters with Master Ma’Ning just now, didn’t you?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes, I did,” C’baoth said evenly. “Is there a problem with that?”

“You just finished telling Anakin that this was way beyond a Padawan’s abilities.”

C’baoth smiled thinly. “Calm yourself, Master Kenobi,” he said. “Of course they weren’t actually participating in the meld.”

“Then why were they there at all?”

“For the same reason your Padawan was here,” C’baoth said, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice. “So that they could get an idea of what a Jedi meld is like.”

“What kind of idea could they get?” Obi-Wan asked.

“They’ve barely even begun their training. They could hardly see any more than any other non-Jedi could.”

“Again, is that a problem?” C’baoth asked.

Obi-Wan took a careful breath. “It is if the lure of such advanced techniques goads them into pressing ahead too quickly and too impatiently.”

C’baoth’s eyes narrowed. “Speak carefully, Master Kenobi,” he warned. “Such impatience is the mark of the dark side. I will not have you accuse me of walking that path, nor of guiding others along it.”

“I don’t accuse you of anything,” Obi-Wan said stiffly.

“Except perhaps of having overly high expectations of those under your tutelage.”

C’baoth snorted. “Better expectations too high for Padawans to ever quite reach than ones so low they never need to stretch beyond what is already known.”

“Better still high but realistic goals that allow for the satisfaction and confidence of achievement,” Obi-Wan countered.

Abruptly, C’baoth stood up. “I will not have my teaching philosophy dissected as if it were an interesting biological specimen,” he growled. “Particularly not by one as young as you.”

“Age isn’t necessarily the best indicator of knowledge in the Force,” Obi-Wan pointed out, struggling for calm.

“No, but experience is,” C’baoth shot back. “When you’ve trained as many Jedi as I have, we’ll discuss this further.

Until then, I believe your Padawan is waiting for you in Reactor Two.”

Obi-Wan took a careful breath. “Very well, Master C’baoth,” he said. “Until later.”

He stalked out into the corridor, drawing on the Force for calm. He hadn’t really wanted to come aboard Outbound Flight, despite his and Windu’s concerns about C’baoth. Not even with the possibility of finding Vergere as extra incentive.

Now, though, he was glad he’d come. In fact, when they reached the Roxuli system in four days, their final stop in Republic space, he might consider contacting Windu to ask permission for him and Anakin to stay aboard Outbound Flight for the entire duration of its mission.

Because one of the other reasons for taking only infants into the Temple was to catch them before they could develop preconceived ideas of what a Jedi’s life was like and how quickly they could achieve that goal. If all of C’baoth’s Padawans had been cautious types like Lorana Jinzler, that was an issue he’d probably never even had to consider.

But inexperienced though Obi-Wan might be at training future Jedi, this was one problem he knew all about.

And if the eagerness he’d sensed in the children watching the meld was any indication, Outbound Flight’s Jedi were going to have their hands full keeping their new Padawans from impatiently pushing their boundaries, possibly right over the line into the dark side.

Somehow, whether C’baoth wanted to hear it or not, he had to get that message through to him. Before it was too late.

The starlines cleared away, and a small and distant red sun appeared in the Darkvenge‘s bridge viewports. “So?” Kav growled.

“Patience, Vicelord,” Doriana advised, watching the blue-skinned alien standing beside the helm peering at the small device in his hand. Mitth’raw’nuruodo had left the technician behind to guide them to the location the Chiss commander had specified. A moment later the tech gave a small nod and murmured a few words to the silvery TC-18 translator droid at his side. “He says, ‘We’re here,’ Vicelord Kav,” the droid reported in its melodic voice.

Kav sniffed. “Wherever here is.”

“Here is wherever Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo wants us to be,” Doriana said, not bothering to conceal hisdisgust with the other. Kav had had plenty of time to come to grips with his task force’s destruction, but he was just as angry and irritable as ever.

And if he didn’t watch his tongue and his temper, he was going to get the rest of them killed, too.

“Then where is he?” Kav demanded.

“Two incoming vessels,” the Neimoidian at the sensors called. “One Chiss cruiser, one smaller vessel.”

The Chiss tech spoke again in the Sy Bisti trade language. “ ‘They are the Springhawk and a long-range shuttle,’

” the TC droid announced primly. “ ‘Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo will wish to board immediately.’ ”

“Tell the commander his usual docking port has been prepared for him,” Doriana said.

A few minutes later, Mitth’raw’nuruodo strode through the blast doors onto the bridge, a pair of Chiss warriors trailing behind him. “Welcome aboard, Commander,” Doriana said, rising from the couch.

“Thank you,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said, his eyes flicking briefly to Kav’s stiff face and posture. “I appreciate your swift compliance with my instructions.”

“As I told you earlier, we wish to be fully cooperative,”

Doriana reminded him.

“Excellent,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “I wish you to begin unloading your droid starfighters.”

Kav jerked like he’d been kicked. “What do you say?”

he breathed, his eyes bugging even more than usual.

“Your droid starfighters are to be transported to that asteroid.” Mitth’raw’nuruodo pointed out the viewports at a small, irregularly shaped crescent of faint light against the stars.

“After that, I will require the services of those who program theircombat movements.”

Kav gurgled under his breath, and for once Doriana could sympathize with him. The main strength of a Trade Federation battleship lay in its starfighters, the retrofitted quad laser batteries along the split-ring midline more of an afterthought than serious defensive armament. Removing its starfighters would leave the Darkvenge as helpless as the freighter it had once been. “This is outrageous,” the Neimoidian protested. “I will not consent to—”

“Be silent,” Doriana cut in, his eyes on Mitth’raw’nuruodo. Either he wanted the Darkvenge to be helpless, or— “You have a plan for dealing with Outbound Flight, don’t you?”

“I have a plan,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo confirmed.

“Whether or not I activate it depends on whether or not you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

An uncomfortable lump formed in Doriana’s throat.

“Explain, please.”

“Your name is not Stratis,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said.

“You’re not your own master, but answer to another. And the social threat posed by these Jedi is not the true reason you seek Outbound Flight’s destruction.” He lifted his eyebrows. “If, indeed, you genuinely do seek its destruction.”

“What other reason would we have to be here?”

Doriana asked.

“Perhaps your intent was to rendezvous with them,”

Mitth’raw’nuruodo suggested. “If Outbound Flight is filled with warriors instead of colonists, together your combined forces would have had both the firepower and the personnel necessary to launch an effective bridgehead invasion.”

“I’ve already told you we’re not here for conquest.”

“I know what you told me,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said, his face expressionless. “Now you must persuade me to believeit.”

“Of course,” Doriana said. This was going to be risky, he knew, but he’d suspected from the beginning that Mitth’raw’nuruodo would eventually come to this conclusion. It was time to give him the rest of the truth. “I believe I can answer all of your questions together. If you’ll come with me, I’d like to introduce you to my superior.” Deliberately, he looked at Kav.

“You, Vicelord, will remain here.”

He didn’t wait for Kav’s inevitable protest, but set off across the bridge, leading Mitth’raw’nuruodo back to the office where they’d first conferred two days earlier. He ushered the Chiss inside and sealed the door, noting with no real surprise that Mitth’raw’nuruodo had also left his warrior escort behind.

The commander was supremely confident in his abilities, and had clearly deduced that Doriana himself was no threat to him.

At least, not yet.

Doriana’s special holoprojector was already hooked into the Darkvenge‘s comm system. Punching in the access code, he gestured Mitth’raw’nuruodo to the desk chair. “Your first point is absolutely correct,” he began, mentally crossing his fingers that the battleship’s huge transmitter would be able to punch a signal back to the Republic’s HoloNet system. “My true name is Kinman Doriana, an identity I’ve taken care to keep secret from Vicelord Kav’s crew and other associates.”

“You play mutually opposing roles, then?”

Doriana stared. “How did you know that?”

“It was obvious,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “Who are your two masters?”

“My official, public master is Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, the head of the Republic government,” Doriana said, the words echoing strangely in his ears. He hardly dared even think such things in the privacy of his own mind. To be saying them aloud, and to an unknown alien, was virtually unthinkable.

“My true Master is a Sith Lord named Darth Sidious.”

“A Sith Lord is… ?”

“A being who stands against the Jedi and their control over the Republic,” Doriana explained.

“Ah,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said, a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. “A power struggle.”

“In a way,” Doriana conceded. “But on a plane far different from the one where beings like you and I exist. What’s important right now is that Lord Sidious has access to information sources that the Jedi don’t have.”

“And what do these sources tell him?”

Doriana braced himself. “There’s an invasion coming,”

he said. “A massive assault force of dark ships, shadowy figures, and weapons of great power, based on organic technology of a sort we’ve never seen before. We believe these Far Outsiders, as we call them, already have a foothold at the far edge of the galaxy, and even now have scouting parties seeking information on worlds and peoples to conquer.”

“Stories of mysterious invaders are both convenient and difficult to disprove,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo pointed out. “Why do you only now tell me this?”

Doriana nodded toward the door. “Because Vicelord Kav and his associates don’t know,” he said. “Neither does anyone else in the Republic. Not yet.”

“When will Darth Sidious tell them?”

“When he’s turned the Republic’s chaos into order,”

Doriana said. “When we’ve built an army and a fleet capable of dealing with the threat. To announce it before then would do nothing but create panic and leave us open to disaster.”

“How does Outbound Flight fit into all this?”

“As I said, we believe the Far Outsiders are currently still gathering information,” Doriana said. “So far, there’s no indication that they even know about the Republic.” He felt his throat tighten. “Actually, that’s not entirely true,” he corrected himself reluctantly. “One of the Jedi, a being named Vergere, disappeared in that region some time ago. That’s one of Outbound Flight’s private agendas, in fact: to try to learn what happened to her.”

“I see,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said, nodding slowly. “And while a single prisoner can give only hints of his or her origin, an entire shipful of them can provide all that would be needed for a successful invasion.”

“Exactly,” Doriana said. “Not to mention all the data files and technology they would be able to examine. If Outbound Flight blunders into their bridgehead, we could find ourselves facing an attack long before we’re ready.”

“And the Jedi do not understand this?”

“The Jedi think of themselves as the masters of the galaxy,” Doriana said bitterly. “Especially the chief Jedi Master aboard Outbound Flight, Jorus C’baoth. Even if he knew about the Far Outsiders, I doubt it would make any difference to him.”

Above the holoprojector, the familiar hooded figure shimmered into view. The hologram was a bit more ragged than usual, Doriana noted, but the connection itself seemed more solid than he’d feared it would be. Sidious was evidently somewhere much closer than his usual haunts on Coruscant.

“Report,” the Sith Lord ordered. His unseen eyes seemed to catch sight of Mitth’raw’nuruodo, and the drooping corners of his mouth drooped a little farther. “Who is this?” he demanded.

“This is Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet, Lord Sidious,” Doriana said, stepping behind Mitth’raw’nuruodo where he would be in view.

“I’m afraid we’ve had a slight setback in our mission.”

“I don’t wish to hear about setbacks, Master Doriana,”

the Sith Lord said, his gravelly voice taking on a menacing edge.

“Yes, my lord,” Doriana said, trying to stay calm. Even hundreds of light-years away, lie could practically feel Sidious’s Force grip resting against his throat. “Let me explain.”

He gave Sidious a summary of the one-sided battle with the Chiss. Somewhere during the explanation, Sidious’s face turned from staring at him to staring at Mitth’raw’nuruodo.

“Impressive,” he said when Doriana finished. “And only one of your ships survives?”

Doriana nodded. “And only because Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo chose to leave it intact.”

“Most impressive,” Sidious said. “Tell me, Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo, are you typical of your species?”

“I have no way of answering that question, Lord Sidious,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said calmly. “I can only point out that I’m the youngest of my people to ever hold the position of Force Commander.”

“I can see why,” Sidious said, a slight smile finally lightening some of his brooding darkness. “I take it from your presence here that Doriana has explained the need to stop Outbound Flight before it passes beyond ‘our territory?”

“He has,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo confirmed. “Have you proof of this impending alien threat?”

“I have reports,” Sidious said. If he was insulted that Mitth’raw’nuruodo would dare to question his word, he didn’t show it. “Doriana will detail them for you if you wish. Assuming you’re convinced, what will be your response?”

Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s eyes flicked to Doriana.

“Assuming I’m convinced, I’ll agree to Doriana’s request to intercept and stop Outbound Flight.”

“Excellent,” Sidious said. “But be warned. The Jedi will not accept defeat lightly, and they have the power to reach across great distances to touch and manipulate the minds of others.

You cannot allow them knowledge of your attack before it islaunched.”

“I understand,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “Tell me: does this ability to touch others’ minds also work the opposite direction? If I, for example, am impressed enough with the need for them to return home, would my urgency influence their thoughts and decisions?”

“They will indeed sense your urgency,” Sidious said, the corners of his mouth drooping again. “But don’t expect them to act on it. Master C’baoth will not under any circumstances return to the Republic. To even offer him that possibility would rob you of your only chance for a surprise attack.”

“Perhaps,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “Though to those who can touch others’ minds the concept of surprise may be limited at best.”

“Which is why Doriana proposed to use droid starfighters as the main thrust of his attack,” Sidious pointed out. “Still, with all power comes a corresponding weakness. Amid the clutter of the thousands of minds aboard Outbound Flight, even Jedi sensitivity will be blunted. And once those same thousands of people begin to die in battle—” His lip twitched.

“—that handicap will increase all the more.”

“I understand,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said again. “Thank you for your time, Lord Sidious.”

“I look forward to hearing the report of your victory,”

Sidious said, inclining his head. He sent a final look at Doriana, and with a flicker the image was gone.

For a long moment Mitth’raw’nuruodo sat without speaking, his glowing eyes glittering with thought. “I’ll need a full technical readout on Outbound Flight and its component Dreadnaughts,” he said at last. “I trust you have current information?”

“Up to and including even the final passenger listings,”

Doriana assured him. “Now that you know about Jedi power against living gunners, shall I cancel your order to remove ourdroid starfighters?”

“Of course not,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said, sounding mildly surprised. “And I’ll expect the off-loading to he completed by the end of the day. I’ll also need two of your droidekas and four of your battle droids to be packed and loaded aboard my long-range shuttle for transport to my base. I presume that six droids can be controlled by something more portable than this vessel’s computer?”

“Yes, there are localized datapad systems that can handle up to two hundred droids each,” Doriana said, suppressing a grimace. Kav was upset enough at him for simply handing over his starfighters for the Chiss to pick apart. He wasn’t going to be any happier about losing his combat droids.

“I’ll pack one in with the droidekas.”

“Good,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “I take it only the droidekas come with those built-in force shields?”

“Correct,” Doriana said. “But if you’re thinking about adapting the shields for use by your warriors, I’d advise against it. There’s a fairly dense radiation quotient involved, plus high-twist magnetic fields that turn out to be fairly nasty for living beings.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said, inclining his head slightly. “As it happens, we’re somewhat familiar with such devices, though they were generally used with reversed polarity.”

“Reversed polarity?” Doriana frowned. “You mean with the deflection field facing inward?”

“They were used as intruder traps,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo explained. “Many an unwary robber incinerated himself as he tried to shoot a guard or homeowner from the inside.”

Doriana winced. “Ah.”

“But as you say, they proved too dangerous to bystanders and innocents who were accidentally caught,” thecommander went on. “Their use was discontinued many decades ago.” He stood up. “I must leave now. I’ll return later to confirm that my orders have been carried out.”