"But is what Ican do the same as what Ishould do?" Thrass asked. "It would seem that protecting you from the consequences of self-destructive decisions merely gives you freedom to make more of them. Is that really the best way to serve my brother and my family?"

"I know whatmy answer would be," Thrawn said. "But you must find the answer for yourself."

"Perhaps someday," Thrass said. "In the meantime, I have a report to prepare." He gave Thrawn a resigned look. "And a brother to protect."

"You must do what you feel right," Thrawn said. "But you don't know these Vagaari. I do. And Iwill defeat them, no matter what the cost."

Thrass shook his head and went back to the door. There he stopped, his hand over the control "Has it ever occurred to you," he said, not turning around, "that attacks like yours might actuallyprovoke beings like the Vagaari to move against us? That if we simply left them alone, they might never become any threat to the Ascendancy at all?"

"No, I've never had any such thoughts," Thrawn replied evenly.

Thrass sighed. "I didn't think so. Good night, Thrawn." Tapping the control to open the door, he left the room.

There," C'baoth said, pointing through the viewport as their transport came around the curve of Yaga Minor. "You see it?"

"Yes," Lorana said as she gazed at the massive object hanging in low orbit over the planet. Six of the brand-new Dreadnaught warships, arranged in a hexagon pattern around a central storage core, the whole thing tied together by a series of massive turbolift pylons. "It's quite impressive."

"It's more than just impressive," C'baoth said gravely. "Therein lies the future of the galaxy."

Lorana stole a furtive glance at him. For the past three weeks, ever since her official elevation from Padawan to full Jedi Knight, C'baoth had been showing a marked change in attitude. He spoke with her more often and at greater length, asking her opinion on politics and other matters, opening up to her as if to a full equal.

It was gratifying, even flattering. But at the same time, it stirred some uncomfortable feelings. Just as he'd expected so much of her as his Padawan, it seemed that he now expected her to suddenly have all the wisdom, experience, and power of a seasoned, experienced Jedi.

This trip to Yaga Minor was just one more example. Out of the clear and cloudless sky he'd invited her to come along with him to observe the final stages of preparation. It would have been more fitting, in her opinion, for him to invite Master Yoda or one of the other Council members to see him off on his historic journey.

But instead he'd chosen her.

"The crew and families are already aboard, stowing their gear and making final preparations," C'baoth continued. "So are most of the Jedi who'll be accompanying us, though two or three are still on their way. You'll want to meet them all before we leave, of course."

"Of course," Lorana said automatically, feeling her muscles tense as a horrible thought suddenly occurred to her. "When you say we, Master C'baoth, who exactly-I mean-"

"Don't flounder, Jedi Jinzler," C'baoth reproved her mildly. "A Jedi's words, like a Jedi's thoughts, must always be clear and confident. If you have a question, ask it."

"Yes, Master C'baoth." Lorana braced herself. "When you say, we. . are you expecting me to come with you on Outbound Flight?"

"Of course," he said, frowning at her. "Why else do you think I recommended your elevation to Jedi Knighthood so soon?"

A familiar tightness wrapped itself around Lorana's chest. "I thought it was because I was ready."

"Obviously, you were," C'baoth said. "But you still have much to learn. Here, aboard Outbound Flight, I'll have the necessary time to teach you."

"But I can't go," Lorana protested, her brain skittering around desperately for something to say. She didn't want to leave the Republic and the galaxy. Certainly not with so much work here to be done. "I haven't made any preparations, I haven't asked permission from the Jedi Council-"

"The Council has granted me whatever I need," C'baoth cut in tartly. "As for preparations, what sort of preparations does a Jedi need?"

Lorana clamped her teeth firmly together. How could he have made such a decision without even consulting her? "Master C'baoth, I appreciate your offer. But I'm not sure-"

"It's not an offer, Jedi Jinzler," C'baoth interrupted. "You're a Jedi now. You go wherever the Council chooses to send you."

"Anywhere in the Republic, yes," Lorana said. "But this is different."

"Only different in your mind," C'baoth said firmly. "But you're young. You'll grow." He pointed at the approaching collection of ships. "Once you see what we've done and meet the other Jedi you'll be more enthusiastic about the destiny that awaits us."

"What about this one?" Tarkosa asked, tapping his fingers on a rack of negative couplings. "Chas?"

"Just a second, just a second," Uliar growled, scanning the racks already in place as he silently cursed the crowd of tech assistants the Supreme Chancellor's Office had sent from Coruscant to help with the loading. For the most part, they'd proven themselves completely useless: dropping delicate components, sorting others into the wrong storage areas, and more often than not doubling up on one rack of spares while the proper set was left buried somewhere in the bowels of the storage core far beneath them. "It goes there," he told Tarkosa, pointing to a spot next to a rack of cooling-pump parts.

"What in theworlds? " a deep voice said from behind him.

Uliar turned to see a balding middle-age man in a plain tan robe standing in the doorway. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Jedi Master Justyn Ma'Ning," the other said, his forehead creasing as he surveyed the chaos in the room. "This equipment should have been stowed two days ago."

"It was," Uliar said. "Very badly. We're trying to fix it."

"Ah," Ma'Ning said, a wryly knowing look on his face. Apparently, he'd met the Coruscant tech assistants, too. "Better speed it up. Master C'baoth is arriving today, and he won't be happy if he sees things this way." With a nod, he turned and headed off down the corridor.

"Like Jedi happiness is our problem," Uliar muttered under his breath at the empty doorway. He turned back to the storage racks; and as he did so, a repeater diagnostic display suddenly flickered on.

"That got it?" a voice called, and a young man popped his head into view through an open floor access panel.

"Hang on." Uliar stepped to the display and ran through its options list. "Looks perfect," he confirmed. Coruscant's tech assistants might be worthless, but the few actual techs who'd come with them were another story completely "Thanks."