by Watson, Jude
Copyright © 2003 Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM. All rights reserved.
Cover art by Alicia Buelow and David Mattingly
Published by Disney • Lucasfilm Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California 91201.
ISBN 978-1-4847-1977-0
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
Chapter One
Patience was required of every Jedi. No matter what the pressure, a Jedi maintained inner calm. Every Padawan Learner knew the story of Jedi Master Yaddle, who had been imprisoned underground on Koba for several centuries and never lost her serenity.
Then again, Anakin Skywalker thought, even Master Yaddle might have cracked if she had to deal with Senatorial procedure.
Anakin hid his smile. Without seeming to move, he tensed and relaxed his muscles. He had been sitting for hours in the Polestar Reception Room off the Grand Hall of the vast Senate complex. The huge room had a soaring vaulted ceiling, which was gilded with sheets of precious metals from various worlds. The seating was low to the ground, wide with adjustable armrests for many-limbed beings. Plush cushions and reclining backs had tempted several beings into slumber. So did the large screens showing a droning speech in the main Senate chamber.
Anakin’s Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, sat quietly, every muscle still. His eyes rested on the gilded wall in front of him. To anyone walking by, he appeared completely composed. But Anakin knew his Master well, and he could sense an impatience that radiated like heat off Obi-Wan’s stillness.
They had been sitting for most of the morning. Anakin could feel every minute of that wait in his coiled muscles. They had been summoned early that morning with the news that a decision on Obi-Wan’s petition for an “order to reveal” had been reached. Obi-Wan had filed the petition against an influential Senator, Sano Sauro. When they’d arrived that morning, Obi-Wan had been directed by a Senatorial aide to wait “for just five minutes, please.” That was three hours ago. They were still waiting.
Anakin’s boot began to tap a quick rhythm on the stone floor. With one glance from Obi-Wan, Anakin stopped.
“Can I get you anything, Master? Tea?” Anakin asked. He would love to have something—anything—to do.
“No, thank you, Padawan. We will wait.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms and resumed his intense scrutiny of the wall.
Nothing but the pursuit of Granta Omega would have brought them here. The galactic criminal had set his sights on the Jedi, and Obi-Wan had twice been his target. Omega was not practiced in the dark side of the Force, but he was fascinated with the Sith and knew that one was at large in the galaxy. He had set out to lure that Sith, and was willing to kill a Jedi in order to do so. He would amass even more wealth using any means he could. Obi-Wan considered him a great enemy of the Jedi.
Anakin had wanted to hunt him down, to start somewhere in the far-flung reaches of the galaxy and gather information, but Obi-Wan had counseled patience. They could wander the galaxy for months or years without getting any closer to Omega. Instead, Obi-Wan told Anakin, they must follow the only lead they had: Years before, Senator Sano Sauro had taken Omega on as his protégé, and was probably still in touch with him.
Sauro was also an enemy of the Jedi, though he cloaked it behind a silky manner and Senatorial procedure. Obi-Wan would have to force him to cooperate. In order to have access to the information Obi-Wan was sure was buried in his files, they would have to follow Senate procedure. And Senate procedure was the one thing that Anakin knew his Master had no patience for. As a matter of fact, it was the one thing he knew that Obi-Wan was incredibly bad at.
So Obi-Wan had turned to an expert: a young Senate aide with a brilliant mind, the Svivreni Tyro Caladian. Tyro had made it his business to have at his fingertips the most unnecessarily complicated, ridiculously obscure, and surprisingly silly rules of order.
Tyro had explained that their only course of action would be to file an order to reveal. This order could be obtained only through a complicated series of steps that included petitions, signatures, approvals, and seals. Obi-Wan had made it through these steps, and at last the order had been served on Sano Sauro.
Anakin was sure that as soon as they gained access to Sauro’s files, they would find the clue that would lead them to Omega.
Suddenly a Svivreni in a navy tunic burst into the vast room. His black hair flowed down his back, loosely held with a thick ring of dull metal. He was stocky and furred, his small, intense face screwed into an expression of nervous haste. He tried to modify his pace, but he ended up running and skidded to a stop before Obi-Wan and Anakin, his thin-soled boots sliding on the polished floor.
“I was tied up in a subcommittee hearing—” he said breathlessly.
Obi-Wan shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. No news yet, Tyro.”
Tyro Caladian shook his head rapidly. “How can that be? Something must be wrong.”
Anakin frowned. He wasn’t happy to hear Tyro say that.
“We had him in our grasp and he slipped away,” Tyro moaned. “I can feel it.”
“Nothing has happened yet,” Obi-Wan said. “Have a seat before you fall down.” A faint smile twitched at his mouth. Tyro’s excitability amused the Jedi, but Tyro’s vibrating nerves hid a political mind as sharp and cunning as a well-honed blade.
Tyro sat, sunk in gloom. He, too, was no fan of Sano Sauro. The Senator had attempted to take over the rich mines of Svivren for weapons development in a secret deal. The Svivreni were opposed to weaponry of any kind, and the deal was exposed before Sauro could complete his plan. He had covered his tracks well and they could not find proof to make an open accusation. It ate away at Tyro.
Tyro had worked together with Obi-Wan, making sure that they plugged every loophole. They had followed every item and sub-item of the procedure. They had notified, ratified, and petitioned. Obi-Wan had even enlisted the support of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.
Despite Tyro’s nerves, Anakin knew they’d prevail. He didn’t understand why Tyro and Obi-Wan looked so worried.
Tyro blinked his small, bright eyes. “Sauro is pulling something. I wish I knew what it was.”
Obi-Wan stirred. “I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”
Anakin quickly stood as the Speaker of the Senate, Mas Ameeda, strode into the room. He carried himself with his usual gravity, his hands clasped in front of him and his lethorns resting against the deep blue of his rich robes.
“Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has asked me to bring you this news,” Mas Ameeda said after bowing to Obi-Wan. “Your order to reveal has been denied.”
Anakin saw a flicker of anger in Obi-Wan’s gaze, but it was gone in a moment. “On what grounds?”
“Senator Sauro has succeeded in utilizing a little-known procedural item called a sitting Senator’s right of refusal,” Mas Ameeda explained. “This has allowed him to block the order to reveal for an indefinite period. Senator Sauro is on an important commi
ttee on redistributing trade routes, and he petitioned the Senate Procedural Committee on that basis.”
Tyro Caladian bristled. His fur stood out in sharp points. “I have never heard of a right of refusal,” he said. “This is outrageous!”
Mas Ameeda stared at Tyro. It was clear he did not appreciate being lectured to by such a young aide. “It is a little-known rule, rarely used. The Committee had to go back three hundred years into the archives to find it.”
“But procedural rules are discounted when they haven’t been renewed and ratified within the last hundred years!” Tyro Caladian sputtered. “This is a clear violation!”
“It is a gray area,” Mas Ameeda admitted. “Technically the Committee is in charge of interpreting all rules, so they have the right to enforce them. It is a…surprising decision.” He turned to face Obi-Wan squarely. “Senator Sauro must have wanted to block your order very badly.”
“I’m sure that is so,” Obi-Wan said.
Mas Ameeda inclined his head. “The Supreme Chancellor wishes me to tell you that he did everything he could. He regrets the decision of the Committee but cannot overrule it. He hopes that you will be able to track Granta Omega some other way. He realizes that it is in the best interests of the galaxy for you to do so.”
“Please extend my thanks to the Supreme Chancellor,” Obi-Wan said.
Anakin could not believe his Master could keep his composure. To have come so close, and to be defeated by such a petty rule! It was unfair. How could his Master accept this ruling?
Mas Ameeda bowed gravely, then walked slowly out the door, his heavy robe swinging.
Tyro’s fur was still raised, and his small eyes snapped with fury. “I’ll fight this,” he told Obi-Wan. “He won’t get away with it. I’ll draft an appeal.”
“Do what you can, my friend,” Obi-Wan said. “Yet I believe you will not succeed. My guess is that Sauro got to someone on that committee. I think that was what Mas Ameeda was insinuating.” Obi-Wan put his hand on Tyro’s shoulder. “Thank you for all your help. My Padawan and I will find another way.”
Tyro looked crestfallen. “If ever you need me again, Master Kenobi, I am here for you.” He raised a furred hand, fingers spread, in the Svivreni gesture of goodbye. Then he hurried from the room.
“Master, Tyro is right,” Anakin said forcefully. “This is outrageous. Can’t we break into Sauro’s files?”
Obi-Wan folded his arms in the way that let Anakin know that he had gone too far.
“If we were discovered, it would undermine the Senators’ trust in the Jedi,” Obi-Wan said.
“There’s got to be something we can do!” Anakin exploded. “We can’t let him win. He’s probably laughing at us right now!”
Obi-Wan gave him a severe look. “You should not be concerned with Senator Sauro’s reaction. What does it matter if a corrupt man laughs at us? It should be less than the whisper of a gnatfly’s wings to us.”
Anakin stared at him. “He has made fools of us.”
“No, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “If your path is the right one, no one has that power. Those who seek to make fools of others are fools themselves.”
“I don’t understand you,” Anakin said, shaking his head. “You are just as upset as I am. I can feel it, Master. I know how much you want to find Granta Omega.”
“Cultivate outward calm and inward calm will come,” Obi-Wan said. “This is the time when the Jedi lesson of inner balance can help you. Accept the setback, and move on.”
“How?” Anakin asked. “Where?”
“That is a question that is easy for me to answer,” Obi-Wan said. “The Council has called on us for a new mission.”
Anakin felt his anger drain away. “Do you know what it is?”
“No,” Obi-Wan said. “But I will admit this—wherever it takes us, I will be glad to take a break from Senatorial politics.”
Chapter Two
To teach was easy. To be an example—well, that was another thing.
Obi-Wan had wanted to pound the floor and shake the very walls of the Senate. But with his Padawan by his side, he had too many reasons not to. He had drawn on his years of training in order to present a serene face to his apprentice. He knew Anakin struggled with his own patience. It would be damaging for Obi-Wan to show his frustration in front of him.
Anakin was sixteen years old. Impatience was wired into his being. Despite Anakin’s strong Force connection, it would most likely take years before he developed true inner balance.
Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was supposed to have it already.
Obi-Wan drew a deep breath. It wasn’t just the frustration of dealing with the Senate bureaucracy, blood-boiling as that was. It was the nagging feeling that if he didn’t track down Granta Omega soon, their next meeting would be on Omega’s terms. Obi-Wan didn’t have anything concrete to go on. Yet he felt strongly that the darkness he felt around Omega somehow had to do with Anakin. The sense of urgency he felt was very real.
As they accessed the turbolift to the High Council tower, Ferus Olin walked up and nodded a greeting. As usual, the Jedi Padawan looked impeccable, his tunic spotless, his dark, gold-streaked hair drawn back severely in his Padawan braid. Even his utility belt gleamed from a recent polishing.
Obi-Wan turned to him, surprised. “You have been called as well?”
“Yes. My Master will join us in the High Council chamber.”
They stepped onto the turbolift. Obi-Wan noted the cool nod Anakin gave in response to Ferus’s greeting. So the two were still rivals. Perhaps being thrown together again would be good for both of them.
The three stepped out and entered the Council chamber. A majority of the Council was there, surrounding the trio in a semicircle. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows dark clouds collided, threatening rain. A sudden bolt of lightning flashed a jagged streak of blue against the dark gray sky.
Mace Windu turned from where he’d been contemplating the coming storm. He sat in his chair and faced Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ferus.
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” he said. “This is a matter that demands our urgent response.”
Obi-Wan waited, surprised that Mace Windu had begun without Siri’s presence.
“There has been some infighting in the Senate,” Mace Windu began.
Obi-Wan felt a silent groan well up within him. So much for his desire to escape Senatorial politics.
“Senator Berm Tarturi of Andara is fighting the political battle of his life,” Mace continued. “The Andaran system is a thriving, influential one, but several planets in the system are claiming an imbalance in trade route distribution. The planet Ieria is demanding a new treaty, as well as representation in the Senate. Ieria and Andara have become bitter enemies. Senator Tarturi is concerned about a reduction in his own power, but the problem is bigger than that. Since the Andaran system is a powerful voting bloc, the Senate is worried about potential instability—as well as a full-scale civil war that could bring in other systems and spread throughout the Core Worlds. And something else has happened to complicate the situation even more. The Senator’s son has disappeared.”
Mace paused, knitting his long fingers together. “Gillam Tarturi is sixteen. He is a student at the elite Leadership School on Andara—a private academy that trains many of the children of the powerful throughout the galaxy for careers in government and diplomacy. The school’s security system is sophisticated. The fact that Gillam disappeared without tripping any alarms is a mystery.”
“Does Senator Tarturi believe that his son’s disappearance is tied to his political problems in his home system?” Obi-Wan asked.
“He does,” Mace Windu said. “He fears his opponents have kidnapped Gillam in order to distract him.”
Obi-Wan sensed a hesitation in Windu’s manner, and he quickly glanced at the rest of the Council members. It was always difficult to read them, but he felt the uncertainty in the air.
“Difficult the situation is,” Yoda said. “Int
erested we are in another connection. A squad of young mercenaries there is.”
“The word is that the Leadership School serves as a training ground for this squad,” Windu continued. “The young mercenaries have already been involved in several intra-planetary disputes and possibly even assassinations. They are alleged to hire themselves out for various causes around the galaxy. The disappearance of Gillam Tarturi could be related to this secret squad. Their activities are beginning to worry the Council.”
“So they must be investigated as well,” Obi-Wan said.
Mace Windu nodded. “The Council has arranged for both Anakin and Ferus to enter the school as new students. They are to find out who is behind the renegade squad and investigate them. Their identities will be concealed—no one must connect the Jedi to this operation if we are to succeed. Not even the school officials will know that Ferus and Anakin are Jedi—they have been given documentation as transfer students, Anakin on a scholarship and Ferus as the son of a high official from a Mid-Rim planet.”
“And meanwhile I will investigate Andaran system politics,” Obi-Wan said. He tried to keep the thud of disappointment from his voice.
Mace Windu nodded again. “This will mean a separation between Master and Padawan. Not only for you, but for Siri as well. The Council is sending her to do some follow-up work on a planet in the Core. The Council feels that Ferus and Anakin together can handle this.” He turned to the two Padawans. “You will be undercover at all times, and that will prove difficult in ways you have yet to foresee. You can set up a regular time to communicate with Obi-Wan. Students are not allowed to use comm devices during the school day, but they have a free hour in the evenings. You must check in with each other as often as you can.”
“Yes, Master Windu,” Ferus said.
The doors hissed open and Siri walked in with her usual purposeful stride. She bowed to the Council. “I have received my last instructions and I’m ready to leave,” she said.
“You will be responsible for another Jedi’s Padawan,” Mace Windu told Obi-Wan. “You know what this means.”
