Bramsin had fallen asleep in his chair. Gently, Treen tapped his shoulder, and amid protests that he was just "resting his eyes," she and E-3PO located the venerable Senator's hat and coat and escorted him to the small speeder that had brought him there. Treen gave them a cheery wave as the door closed behind her.

Lecersen hadn't lied. There were several favors to call in. In the morning, he'd contact his old friend Porrak Vansyn. He'd opted not to include Vanysn in his little "group," as the younger Moff didn't really have much to offer. Now, however, he was certain Vansyn would aid him in establishing a base of operations.

He turned his mind to another one of the loose ends. He sank back in his chair, reached into his pocket, and unfolded the piece of flimsi E-3 had delivered to him a few hours earlier.

"I found it tucked in the flower bed by the the gate, sir," the droid had said. "Do you wish to peruse the security vids?"

Lecersen, rather alarmed that someone had felt confident enough to walk up to his gate and place an old-fashioned note in a flowerpot, did indeed wish to peruse the security vids. He had watched, eyes narrowing, as they showed nothing more sinister than a small human village child on a hoverbike approaching the gate, looking admittedly wary. His-or her-face was turned away from the cam, and he or she wore gloves, gripping the note hard, edging up to the gate, shoving it into the dirt, and then hastening away. No doubt with a bit of effort he could uncover the ident.i.ty of said child, but there was little point. He was certain that the youngling had been put up to it, perhaps with the promise of some credcoins or treats, and would not be able to identify the real culprit.

The note was written in block letters, in Basic, and read simply: WE HAVE SOMETHING TO DISCUSS THAT.

WILL BE TO YOUR BENEFIT. I WILL COME.

TO YOU.

"Come if you like, my mysterious friend," murmured Lecersen. "Walk freely into the rancor's lair."

ABOARD THE JADE SHADOW.

"WELL, THEY CAN'T SIMPLY HAVE JUST DISAPPEARED," JAINA SOLO SAID. "I mean-that was a lot of ships. They've got to be somewhere."

"Physics would dictate that," Luke Skywalker replied, rubbing his eyes wearily. "But I get the feeling that Abeloth and the Sith aren't great believers in physics."

"All can be bent to one's will, if one's will is strong enough," said Vestara Khai, looking up from a game of dejarik. Luke's son, Ben, had dug up the program and was instructing her in its finer points.

"That some kind of Lost Tribe Sithy saying?" Ben retorted, but he was grinning and the words had no sting. Vestara smiled back at him.

"Nope," she said. "I just made it up. Do you like it?"

"No," Luke said sharply, even though the question was meant for Ben. He was in no mood to patiently indulge teenage flirting, which the conversation was perilously beginning to resemble. "Vestara, you could do a great deal of good if you'd simply tell us where your homeworld is instead of inventing plat.i.tudes."

Vestara's eyes, warm with mirth as they regarded Ben, turned cold for a moment.

"Good?" she repeated. "Master Skywalker, I'm Sith. I don't 'do good,' remember? Or at least, that's what you keep insisting."

"She's got you there, Dad," Ben said. He examined the board, frowning a little as Vestara moved her molator two squares, where it proceeded to attack Ben's houjix.

"Yeah," Jaina agreed. "She does." While Luke's niece was only present in holographic form, she had apparently been following the conversation. Luke fought the urge to scowl.

"You would have me believe that you have turned your back on such things," Luke said. "That you are working with us now, not the Sith, nor Abeloth. As such, I think you'd be more willing to help us."

Vestara's eyes flashed briefly, but she did not rise to the bait. "I have helped as best I could without becoming something I despise," she said quietly, wrapping a surprising amount of dignity around her like a cloak. "I may not agree with what this strike force is doing. But that doesn't mean I want to turn them over for Jedi-approved genocide."

"Hey, wait just a minute, Ves-" Ben began. Luke lifted a hand for silence, and for a change, Ben obeyed the unspoken command.

"Jedi," Luke said, his voice just as soft as Vestara's and just as intense, "do not condone or partic.i.p.ate in genocide. We've been on the receiving end of it. Or didn't you know about that?"

"Oh, I know," Vestara replied. "And I know from what Ship told us that Order 66 was issued by a Sith, and carried out by a Sith who was your own father. If anyone has reason to hate my-" She caught herself and corrected. "-the Sith, it's Jedi-and you. You are making my argument for me. Why in the universe would I willingly lead you to my world when I know you will feel obligated to kill everyone?"

No one missed the slip. But that in and of itself didn't necessarily ring warning bells for Luke. Even if Vestara had truly had a change of heart-which he didn't for a moment believe-old habits died hard. They were her people, and had been all her life. It would be a long time before she thought of them in any other way.

"Look," Ben said, glancing from his father to Vestara, the dejarik game completely forgotten, "we're getting off-track here. The Sith we're all agreed we want to find are the members of the former strike team. I know you want that, too, Ves. We also need to find Abeloth."

She nodded. Anger still radiated off her in the Force, although anyone with eyes could see it easily in her body language. Luke supposed he'd feel the same.

"I'd tell you if I knew anything that would help you find Abeloth or the strike team," she said. "I think you know that. But I was never included in their grander plans, and it's been far too long since they even trusted me with minor information. I've told you all I know."

And she had. Luke could sense her honesty-in this, at least.

"I believe you have told me what you know," he said, equally as honest. "But now it's time for you to tell me what you think. Give us your best guess. You know these people, in a way we don't. If you have any theory, any idea about where they might go or what their next step might be, I would ask you to tell us. Any starting point would be welcome."

Vestara seemed mollified, and her body posture eased slightly.

"Well," she said slowly, glancing at Ben, "if we don't know where they were planning on going now-which I don't-we might want to think about where Sith have been in the past. The Lost Tribe cherishes its own history and hungers to learn more about other Sith, and they would want to learn all they can."

Ben was nodding. "That makes sense for the Sith, but what about Abeloth? I get the feeling she's going to go for the greatest source of either power or beings she can take advantage of."

Luke and Jaina nodded. Luke frowned for a moment as a thought occurred to him. "Vestara ... do you think they would travel together?"

She opened her mouth to object, then closed it for a moment, looking pensive. "The original plan was to capture and enslave her. That's why they initially joined with you. I ... I don't know. If they think it would be a good decision, then yes, I suppose they might do so."

It was not a pleasant thought-Abeloth and the Sith, working together, but the more Luke sat with it, the more right it felt.

"If they're traveling together, it would be Abeloth who would dictate the direction. And we don't know enough about her yet to hazard a guess where she might go."

"So we're right back where we started," Ben said glumly. Vestara had just lost her Kintan strider, one of the most powerful pieces in the game. He moved quickly to take advantage of an opening only to have Vestara, the novice, find an opening herself to take Ben's own Kintan strider and two other pieces.

"Ship." It was the hologram of Jaina that had spoken the single, galvanizing word. All eyes turned toward her.

"What about Ship?" Luke asked.

The small figure shrugged. "Ship is the one thing both Abeloth and the Sith truly have in common. Although she's commanding him, we know that Ship doesn't seem overly fond of her. I picked up on that when I dealt with him, and Vestara's confirmed it. He exists to serve Sith and train their younglings. Abeloth doesn't fit into that programming, and yet he still serves her."

"He has to," Vestara chimed in. "He doesn't want to. He doesn't like her at all."

"In the end, Ship is still a vessel," Luke said. "He will always obey his programming, whatever his personal preferences. We know that about him, and that gives us an advantage." He had never liked the tendency some had of referring to Ship as a male. Ship was a construct, not a living being.

"Well ... that depends on how you define his programming," Vestara said. "Ship wants to help the Sith, and he is programmed to do so. But he must also obey one with will enough to command him. Abeloth is simply too strong for him to disobey right now."

Luke eyed her for a moment. "He would come to you if he could, wouldn't he?"

She nodded.

"Even if you were helping us?"

She hesitated, then said, "Yes. I think so. He wouldn't like it. He would come, even if just to try to get me back onto what he sees as the right path. But I'm a Sith youngling, and well-not to brag, but he sought me out. I do think I have a bond with him."

Luke glanced over at his son, who had been quiet through this part of the conversation. Ben, too, had once had such a bond with the ancient vessel. During the time when Ben had been his uncle Jacen's apprentice, and therefore had been walking the line between the dark and the light side, he had encountered Ship on Ziost. The Sith had once been powerful on that world, and the miasma of dark-side energy had lingered among the ruins that marked their former presence and lain heavily in the shadows of the woods.

Ship, hidden deep in the bowels of Ziost and forgotten for millennia, had called to Ben, sensing in the then-fourteen-year-old youth the brush of the dark side.

Sensing a Sith apprentice.

Ben had responded, utilizing Ship as a way to get off the forsaken world. He had not fully understood at the time that Ship was using him in the same way. He had managed to exert the force of his will over the vessel sufficiently to pilot it, and retained enough of that will not to succ.u.mb to its mentally whispered urgings. Far from achieving the unity that Ship and a dark-side apprentice could have had, Ben had essentially ditched the training vessel as soon as he could-giving it to Jacen as a gift once the younger Skywalker had safely returned.

Ship had not seemed to like Jacen, and had allied itself with a different dark-Force user shortly afterward. Luke found himself wondering what Ship's dislike of Jacen meant, then shook it off. It was not relevant, not anymore.

"If we can find Ship, then we'll find Abeloth," Jaina was saying. "And if he's managed to escape her somehow, then he'll have sought out the Lost Tribe. We could find one or both of our targets by shifting the direction of our search to finding him instead chasing them."

"That's a great idea, Jaina," Luke said. He was a little embarra.s.sed he hadn't thought of it himself. "Ben, Vestara-you've both been inside Ship. Jaina, you've encountered him twice, and the second time you gave a good account of yourself. The three of you put your heads together and see what you can come up with."

"I'd also like to utilize what resources we have back at the Temple," Jaina said. "Have someone start pulling whatever research we've got on Ship."

Luke nodded. "Get right on that. Anyone in particular you'd like to work with?"

Jaina c.o.c.ked her dark head, considering. "I think if Natua Wan's available, I could work with her. I know that most of the Jedi Knights affected by Abeloth are still having a close eye kept on them, and since I'm the one who brought her in when she snapped ... I'd like to let her do something to feel useful."

Luke nodded, pleased but not surprised that this had occurred to Jaina. He would have felt the same way. Even though it was certainly not the fault of the "Jedi crazies," he knew that there was still a pall cast over Jedi Knights who had been, in the end, victims. Letting Natua Wan help with research would give her something positive to do while keeping her in the Temple.

"Let's get right on it, then," he said.

"But first," Ben said firmly, deactivating the holographic game in which he had been soundly trounced, "lunch."

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT.

Natua Wan understood, completely, the reticence with which she had been allowed back into Jedi society. She had harmed innocents-coming perilously close to killing more than one-destroyed property and livestock, and threatened the entire Solo clan.

Everyone knew that she had believed, truly believed, that they were all imposters. That she had been unwittingly and utterly under the control of Abeloth, a being so powerful and dangerous that Grand Master Luke Skywalker had joined into an alliance with Sith to fight her. And they all knew that Natua Wan was cured.

But they still worried, and Natua couldn't blame them. Even if it meant that, unofficially, she was still under observation.

She'd bridled at it at first, but the very practical Markre Medjev, the current chief librarian of the Temple, had pointed out that Jedi needed patience and compa.s.sion. After a time, they would all come to believe in their hearts, not just their minds, that the "crazies" were truly cured, and she and the others would again be sent out on a.s.signments that required absolute faith in their abilities. She'd sighed, nodded, and resigned herself to the situation.

Natua had always been quick-tempered and, while intelligent, could hardly be called "studious" by even the most charitable of her teachers. Embracing where she was as Medjev had suggested, she had actually volunteered to stay at the Temple and a.s.sist Master Cilghal with some of her research. Cilghal had been surprised, but pleased, and had taken great pains to acquaint the Falleen with most of the librarians, who were delighted to have someone to take into their care.

It was ... odd, but rewarding. So when Markre Medjev himself took her aside and said, "I have had a specific request for your services," she was quite pleased.

"Who needs what?" Natua asked.

Medjev smiled. There was a twinkle in his dark eyes as he replied, "Jaina Solo needs help researching the Sith. It seems that they want more information on Sith history in general and Ship in particular. You'll be doing a great deal to help Master Skywalker and the fleet locate both the Sith and possibly Abeloth, too. Jedi Solo asked for you by name." It was clear that while Medjev was trying to appear nonchalant, the chief librarian was bursting with pride.

Natua's eyes widened. She had not been surprised when she, along with most of the others who had suffered under Abeloth's control, had not been permitted to depart with the Jedi fleet. But now it didn't matter. Jaina Solo, who had fought her at the Coruscant Livestock Exchange and Exhibition, had asked for her help. Natua still remembered, with deep shame and regret, how Jaina had said, "I don't want to hurt you." Natua's response had been, "But I want to hurt you."

Even though her natural inclination was to fight rather than research, Natua Wan would never, in a thousand years, do anything but gratefully accept Jaina's overture.

Besides ... she knew Jedi weren't supposed to focus on revenge, but she felt a deep sense of satisfaction in knowing that she could take part in tracking down the being who had so violated her mind.

Natua grinned at Medjev. "Tell Jedi Solo that it would be my honor to a.s.sist."

ABOARD THE JADE SHADOW.

THE LIST OF PLACES THAT JAINA, NATUA, BEN, LUKE, AND VESTARA had come up with read like a Top Ten Worst Places to Vacation, Ben thought as he looked at the names.

Dromand Kaas. Ziost. Krayiss II. Khar Delba. Korriban. And it went on and on. Ben didn't know a lot about the specific history of each planet, but he was more than familiar with some. Like Ziost.

He watched with not a little unease as Vestara read almost hungrily about the history of her-hopefully-former people. She methodically crunched a muja fruit, studying silently while they ate lunch in the galley.

Finally, uncomfortable with the silence, Ben said, "Your soup's getting cold."

"Hmm? Oh, right. Thanks." She took a single spoonful and resumed reading.

Ben fidgeted, then said, "So I thought you'd already be familiar with a lot of these places. Maybe even tell us about some new ones."

That got her attention. She looked up from the datapad. "A lot of them are familiar. But the Omen's data bank did suffer some damage, and a great deal of information was lost. Remember, we didn't really have the technology until recently to recover lost data. And Ship was much more interested in bringing us up to speed on the current state of the galaxy than on its history. So yes, a lot of this is new to me."

"Interesting?"

She gave him a level gaze. "Of course it is. Knowledge is power, Ben, and I know you know that. I was born a Sith, even if I've changed my mind about a lot of what they stand for and who I want to be. I bet even you think this is interesting."

He couldn't deny it. "Well, yeah, it is. But it's kind of like watching a ship crash. You can't take your eyes off it, but you don't really like what you're seeing."

She shrugged. "Perhaps. The nature of this is nothing new to me, only the details. And don't worry. I've got plenty of information on ancient Sith planets to share with you." She waggled the 'pad. "This is definitely incomplete."

"Ancient Sith planets, but not Kesh," Ben said.

Vestara sighed and put down the 'pad. "I've been thinking about this," she said. "I know that there's a very good possibility that Abeloth and-and my father's team have retreated to Kesh. But what I told Master Luke still stands. I'm afraid if I tell you where it is, every Jedi in the galaxy is going to converge on it and blast it back to the date that the Omen crashed. I can't do that, Ben. I just can't-and neither could you if you were in my situation."

He stared into his soup. It was good soup, as such things went, with generous chunks of nerf meat and vegetables, but it was not holding his attention. Which was highly unusual, and a sign of how troubled he was by the direction the search was taking.

"I guess you're right."

She reached over and squeezed his arm. He glanced up from the soup and found her smiling. "Thank you for that."

He gave her a crooked grin in return, then it faded. "But still ... by choosing not to tell us, you're putting all of us at risk. What if she is there? She's got to be stopped, Ves, you know that."

"I do. But not at the expense of my whole world."