Outbound Flight Read online

  His eyes hardened even further. "But of course, you were away, weren't you? That's what made the whole thing work. You were never around to make mistakes or lose your temper or drop dinner all over the floor. They could set up their little shrine to you without ever having to see anything that might burst the bubble of perfection they'd built around you."

  He scooped up his mug, but set it down again without drinking. "But I know," he growled, staring into it. "I've been watching you. You're not perfect. You're not even close to per­fect."

  Lorana thought back across the wearying years of her train­ing, and C'baoth's constant criticism. "No," she murmured. "I'm not."

  "You're not very observant, either." He gestured at her. "Let me see that fancy weapon of yours."

  "My lightsaber?" Frowning, she slid it out of her belt and set it on the table.

  "Yeah, that's the one," he said, making no move to touch it. "That's an amethyst, right?"

  "Yes," she said, focusing on the activation stud. "It was a gift from some people Master C'baoth and I helped in one of Corus­cant's midlevels."

  Jinzler shook his head. "No, it was a gift from your parents. They knew the people, and asked them to give it to you." His mouth twisted. "And you couldn't even figure that out, could you?"

  "No, of course not," Lorana said, her frustration with this man and his anger threatening to bubble over into anger of her own. "How could I?"

  "Because you're a Jedi," he shot back. "You're supposed to know everything. I'll bet your Master C'baoth knew where it came from."

  Lorana took a careful breath. "What do you want from me, Dean?"

  "Hey, you're the one who came looking for me just now, not the other way around," he countered. "What do you want?"

  For a moment she gazed into his eyes. What did she want from him? "I want you to accept what is," she told him. "The past is gone. Neither of us can change it."

  "You want me to not change the past?" he said scornfully. "Yeah, okay, I think I can handle that."

  "I want you to accept that, whatever your feelings about your—about our—parents, your value isn't defined by their opinions or judgments," she continued, ignoring the sarcasm.

  He snorted. "Sorry, but you already said not to change the past," he said. "Anything else?"

  She looked him straight in the eye. "I want you to stop hat­ing," she said quietly. "To stop hating yourself . . . and to stop hating me."

  She saw the muscles work briefly in his neck. "I don't hate," he said, his voice steady. "Hate is an emotion, and Jedi don't have emotions. Right?"

  "You're not a Jedi."

  "And that's the real problem, isn't it?" he said bitterly.

  "That's what Mom and Dad wanted: Jedi. And I'm not one, am I? But don't worry, I can still play the game. There is no emotion; there is peace. Jedi serve others rather than ruling over them, for the good of the galaxy. Jedi respect all life, in any form. See?"

  Abruptly, Lorana had had enough. "I'm sorry, Dean," she said, standing up. "I'm sorry for your pain, which I can't heal. I'm sorry for your perceived loss, which I can't give back to you." She forced herself to lock gazes with him. "And I'm sorry you're on your way to wasting your life, a decision that only you can change."

  "Nice," he said. "The one thing no one can top Jedi at is making speeches. Especially farewell speeches." He raised his eyebrows. "That was a farewell speech, wasn't it?"

  Lorana glanced around the room, belatedly remembering where she was. Outbound Flight . . . "I haven't made up my mind."

  He lifted his eyebrows. "You actually have a mind?" he said. "I thought the Jedi Council made all your decisions for you."

  "I hope you'll find your way, Dean," Lorana said, picking up her lightsaber and sliding it back into her belt. "I hope you'll find your healing."

  "Well, you can spend the next few years worrying about it," he said. "Hurry back. We have so much more to talk about. Sis­ter." Picking up his mug, he shifted around in his seat to put his back to her.

  Lorana stared at the back of his head, the acid taste of defeat in her mouth. "I'll talk to you later," she said. "My . . . brother."

  He didn't reply. Blinking back tears, Lorana fled from the room.

  For a long time she wandered the maze of corridors, maneu­vering mechanically around the techs and droids as she tried to work through the pain darkening her eyes and mind. It was therefore with a certain sense of distant shock that her eyes cleared to show she was back in the Dreadnaught's ComOps Center.

  C'baoth and Pakmillu were still there, holding a discussion over one of the navigation consoles. "Ah—Jedi Jinzler," C'baoth said, gesturing her over. "I trust your quarters are satisfactory?"

  "Actually, I haven't seen them yet," Lorana admitted.

  "But you will be joining us, will you not?" Pakmillu added in his gravelly voice. "I understand there is some confusion on this point."

  "There's no confusion," C'baoth insisted. "She is coming with us."

  Pakmillu's large eyes were steady on her. "Jedi Jinzler?" he invited.

  Lorana took a deep breath, her brother's face floating in front of her. The face that from this point on would forever hover at the edges of her life. "Master C'baoth is correct," she told the captain. "I'll be honored to travel with you aboard Out­bound Flight."

  And, she added bitterly to herself, the sooner they were gone, the better.

  13

  ...And the final crew and passenger list," Captain Pakmillu said, handing over the last data card.

  "Thank you," Doriana said, accepting the card and tucking the entire stack away inside his coat. "And there's nothing else you need?"

  "Nothing that I or fifty thousand other people have been able to think of," Pakmillu said with typically dry Mon Cal humor. "I believe Outbound Flight is ready to fly."

  "Excellent," Doriana said. "Supreme Chancellor Palpatine will be pleased to hear it."

  "We couldn't have done it without his help," Pakmillu said gravely. "Please extend our gratitude one final time to him for all his efforts on our behalf."

  "I certainly will," Doriana promised. A final time it would be, too. "Then that's that. I'll see you in—what? Five years? Ten?"

  "However long it takes," Pakmillu said, looking around his Dreadnaught-1 command bridge. "But we will be back."

  "I'll look forward to your return," Doriana said with all the false sincerity he could conjure up. "In the meantime, a safe voy­age to you. And don't forget, if you do discover anything else you need, the Supreme Chancellor's Office stands ready to assist. You still have three weeks before you leave Republic space—plenty of time for emergency supplies or equipment to be assembled and transported to you."

  "I will remember," Pakmillu said, bowing his head. "May I escort you back to your transport?"

  "No need," Doriana assured him. "I know you must have a hundred matters yet to deal with before you leave Yaga Minor. Fly safely, and may the Force he with you."

  "With nineteen Jedi aboard, I'm sure it will," Pakmillu as­sured him. "Rather, nineteen and a half."

  "Most definitely," Doriana agreed, keeping his smile in place as he frowned behind it. Nineteen Jedi? And a half? "Good-bye, Captain."

  He waited until the pilot had maneuvered the transport out of Dreadnaught- l's forward hangar bay and had them skimming smoothly across the outer fringes of Yaga Minor's atmosphere before he pulled out Pakmillu's passenger list and plugged it into

  his datapad. The last Jedi numbers he'd heard had put the total at seventeen, not nineteen. Had there been a sudden change in plans? And what in blazes was half a Jedi, anyway? The rumors about how Darth Maul had died flashed unpleasantly to mind .. .

  He pulled up the Jedi list and ran his eye down it. The names were very familiar, most of them potential troublemakers whom he himself had subtly nudged C'baoth into inviting aboard his grand expedition. The first addition to the list, Lorana Jinzler, wasn't really a surprise; Doriana had always thought it likely that C'baoth's former Padawan wou
ld decide to stay with him awhile longer. The other two were Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan, Anakin Skywalker.

  Doriana smiled to himself. So Skywalker was Pakmillu's half Jedi. Cute; and an unexpected bonus for all his hard work, as well. Ever since Kenobi and the boy had nearly scuttled the Bar­lok operation, he'd had an uncomfortable feeling about the pair. Their deaths aboard Outbound Flight would be nicely conve­nient.

  Outbound Flight had disentangled itself from the last of its docking and support equipment now and was making its pon­derous way out of Yaga Minor's gravity well toward deep space. A minute later, as Doriana continued to watch through the trans­port's canopy, it flickered and vanished into hyperspace.

  He looked back down at his datapad. Still, bonus or not, he'd better check with Sidious and let him know that Kenobi and Skywalker were aboard, just to make sure that fit in with the Sith Lord's plans.

  And he'd better check before Outbound Flight meandered its way out of the Republic. Forever.

  The shuttle took him to the Yavvitiri Spaceport, a few kilo­meters from the Preparation Center where all the preliminary work on Outbound Flight had taken place. Palpatine and the Senate had tried to keep a low profile on the project, perhaps fearing a backlash about all the money they were spending, and for the most part they'd succeeded. In his various official and un­official travels over the past six weeks, Doriana had found virtu­ally no one who had even heard of it.

  Still, here at the very center of the project, it could hardly have been ignored. But to his mild surprise, he didn't hear a single word about Outbound Flight's departure as he walked through the spaceport's corridors. True, the work had for the most part moved up to the Dreadnaughts themselves four weeks ago, taking the project out of the public's day-to-day view. But he still would have expected someone to have raised his head out of the mud long enough to take note of such a historic event.

  Perhaps in these days of growing political and social tur­moil, he mused, even historic events were soon forgotten. In this particular case, it was just as well.

  He'd left his own ship berthed on the far side of the space­port, in the restricted zone reserved for diplomats and high gov­ernmental officials. Passing through security, he headed through the maze of corridors to his docking bay. He keyed open the hatch and went inside, locking it again behind him, then made his way to the cockpit. Seating himself in the pilot's seat, he punched for the tower. "This is Kinman Doriana of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's Office," he identified himself when the controller answered. "Requesting a lift slot in thirty minutes."

  "Acknowledged, Doriana," the other said. "Thirty-minute lift slot confirmed."

  "Thank you." Shutting off the corm, Doriana keyed for full-ship start-up, watching the displays closely as the systems began coming online.

  "You are late, Commander Stratis."

  Doriana gave the displays one more leisurely look. Then, just as leisurely, he turned around.

  The Neimoidian was wedged half hidden in the holo alcove off the cockpit's aft bulkhead, glowering at him from beneath his short, five-cornered hat. "Vicelord Siv Kav," Doriana greeted him. "May I say how very uncomfortable you look."

  "Very amusing," Kav growled. Working his shoulders back and forth, he managed to extricate himself and his elaborately layered robes from the alcove. "You should have been here an hour ago."

  "Why?" Doriana countered calmly. "Isn't your fleet ready?"

  "Of course it is."

  "And Outbound Flight only just now left," Doriana said. "Plenty of time to set up our ambush." He cocked his head slightly. "Or are you simply annoyed that I made you hide there in your little hole longer than you expected?"

  "I was not hiding," the Neimoidian insisted stiffly. "I simply did not wish to be seen if someone from the Spaceport Author­ity came in unexpectedly."

  "You could have accomplished that by waiting in the guest cabin as I'd instructed," Doriana pointed out. "But of course, in there you wouldn't have been able to eavesdrop on my clearance request to the tower. Tell me: was the knowledge of my true name and position worth the wait?"

  Kav's large eyes studied his face. "We were betrayed once by your Master," he said, his voice darkening. "Darth Sidious promised that Naboo would be ours, that we would have the foothold we needed there. But the battle turned, and he aban­doned us."

  "The reversal of battle was not his fault," Doriana countered. "You want to blame someone, blame Amidala. And you have hardly been abandoned."

  "Is Naboo ours, then?" Kav said sarcastically. "I must have missed that fact."

  "Naboo is nothing," Doriana said. "The continued existence and functioning of your Trade Federation is infinitely more valu­able. Or did you also miss the fact that it has yet to be punished for its excesses?"

  "The lack of punishment is not Sidious's doing," Kav in­sisted. "That is the doing of the judiciary, at the cost of far too many expensive legal representatives."

  Doriana smiled thinly. "Do you really think the judiciary wouldn't have bowed to Senate pressure by now without someone operating behind the scenes on your behalf?"

  A hint of uncertainty crossed Kav's face. "You?" he sug­gested.

  Doriana shrugged. "Lord Sidious has many servants."

  "Yet this particular servant resides in the Supreme Chancel­lor's Office," Kav said, gesturing toward him. "That must be very useful for him."

  Doriana let his face harden. "Yes, it is," he said softly. "And from this point on you will forget you've ever heard that name and that position. Forever. Is that clear?"

  Kav started to sniff in contempt, took another look at Dori­ana's face. "It is clear, Master Stratis," he said instead.

  "Good." Doriana gestured toward the cockpit door. "Then if you'll return to your cabin, I have a ship to fly. You have the fleet's coordinates for me?"

  "Yes." Kav's long fingers dipped into a recess of his robe and emerged with a data card. "It will take no more than two days to reach them."

  "Good," Doriana said. "That should give us time to finalize our attack strategy."

  " I am the one trained in battle tactics," the other said stiffly. "The attack strategy will be mine."

  "Of course," Doriana said, suppressing a sigh. "I meant only that I'd be available to assist you. Now if you'll return to your cabin, we'll be on our way."

  The Neimoidian drew himself up and, with his pride at least momentarily appeased, strode from the room.

  Shaking his head, Doriana crossed to the holo alcove. Nei­moidians. If they didn't control one of the best collections of military hardware in the Republic, he would have recommended dumping the whole species down the refresher long ago. He just hoped Sidious was working on finding someone more compe­tent to replace them.

  Positioning himself in the alcove, he keyed for a HoloNet relay. The lights winked on, and he signaled for his Master.

  The wait was longer than usual, and more than once he con­sidered taking a quick trip forward to check again on the status boards. But each time he resisted the temptation. If Sidious came on and had to wait, he would not be happy.

  At last the familiar hooded figure appeared. "Report."

  "Outbound Flight is on its way, Lord Sidious," Doriana said. "I have Vicelord Kav aboard, and will be heading for the ren­dezvous within the hour."

  "Excellent," Sidious said. "And you know precisely where in the Unknown Regions Outbound Flight will be stopping?"

  "Yes, my lord," Doriana said. "Captain Pakmillu has two separate navigational checks planned for the first eight hundred light-years beyond Republic space. I have the coordinates of both."

  "Be sure you take the first one," Sidious warned. "It may be that C'baoth in his impatience will order the second to be can­celed."

  "That is indeed my plan, my lord," Doriana confirmed. "One final matter. I have Pakmillu's final passenger listing, and three more Jedi have been added."

  "One of them being Lorana Jinzler, no doubt," Sidious said. "C'baoth had earlier informed the Senate she
would be accom­panying him." The drooping corners of his mouth turned briefly upward in a sardonic smile. "Though I don't believe he had mentioned it to the woman herself."

  "Yes, she's one of them," Doriana confirmed. "The others are Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan, Anakin Skywalker."

  Sidious's smile vanished. "Skywalker?" he hissed. "Who au­thorized this?"

  "I don't know, my lord," Doriana said, feeling his heart start­ing to thud in his chest. The last time he'd seen Sidious like this, someone had died. Violently. "It must have been C'baoth—"

  "He cannot go on that ship," Sidious cut in sharply. "He must remain here. You will see to it."

  "Understood, my lord," Doriana said quickly. "Don't worry, I'll get him off "

  He reached for the cutoff switch, his mind whirling as he tried to sort through the options. Outbound Flight's first sched­uled stop was at Lonnaw system. If he headed there immediately

  But he couldn't, not with Vicelord Kav aboard. Too much risk that someone would see the Neimoidian and make a connec­tion they couldn't afford. He would first have to drop Kav with the attack force, then go after Outbound Flight. That meant the Lonnaw connection wouldn't work, which meant he would have to try for their next stop, Argai, all the way over in Haldeen sec­tor. If he missed them there

  "Wait."

  Doriana paused, his hand hovering over the control. Sidi­ous's lips had tightened, and Doriana had the sense that the Sith Lord was running through the same logic chain he himself had just been working out.

  And apparently had come to the same conclusion. "No, you continue with the plan," he said, his voice calm again. "I will re­move Skywalker from Outbound Flight."

  "Yes, my lord," Doriana said, wilting a little with relief. He didn't have the foggiest idea how Sidious was going to pull that one off, especially with C'baoth and five other Jedi Masters on hand to oppose him. But that was the Sith Lord's problem. Do­riana was off the hook, and that was the important thing. "I'll contact you again when the mission has been accomplished."

  "Do that, Doriana," Sidious said. His eyes, as always, were hidden by his hood; just the same, Doriana could almost see them burning a hole through the long light-years separating the two men before the image flickered and vanished.