"Taking a child into Jedi training is not antagonism."

"Doing so in the middle of the night is," Obi-Wan countered. "There's no reason that couldn't have waited until morning." He paused. "Unless, of course, you were deliberately trying to force the issue of control."

He'd hoped the other would instantly and hotly deny it. But C'baoth merely looked sideways at him. "And why would I do that?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said. "Particularly since the Code specifically forbids Jedi to rule over others."

"Does it? Does it really?"

Obi-Wan felt a tingling at the back of his neck. "We've already had this discussion," he reminded the other.

"And my position remains the same as it was then," C'baoth said. "The Jedi Order has accumulated many rules over the centuries that are clearly erroneous. Why should this not be one of them?"

"Because Jedi aren't equipped to rule," Obi-Wan said. "Because seeking power is the dark side."

"How do you know?" C'baoth demanded. "When was the last time we were ever given the opportunity to try?"

"I know because the Code says so," Obi-Wan said flatly. "We're here to guide, not become dictators."

"And what is the purpose of rules and regulations if not to guide people into the behavior that will best serve them and their society?" C'baoth countered.

"Now you're playing with semantics."

"No, I'm speaking of intent," C'baoth corrected. "Rule is of the dark side because it seeks personal gain and the satisfaction of one's own desires over the rights and desires of others. Guidance, in any form, seeks the other person's best interests."

"Is that truly what you're seeking here?"

"That's what all of us seek," C'baoth said. "Come now, Master Kenobi. Can you truly say that Master Yoda and Master Windu couldn't run the Republic with more wisdom and efficiency than Palpatine and the government bureaucrats?"

"If they could resist the pull of the dark side, yes," Obi-Wan said. "But that pull would always be there."

"As it is in whatever we do," C'baoth said. "That's why we seek the guidance of the Force for ourselves as well as for those we serve."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It's a dangerous course, Master C'baoth," he warned. "You risk bringing chaos and confusion."

"The confusion will be minimal, and it will end," C'baoth promised. "Whatever authority we're granted, rest assured that it will be with the support of the people." He lifted a finger. "But never forget why most of them are here in the first place. You heard that man: they joined Outbound Flight to escape the corruption of the worlds we're leaving behind. Whyshouldn't we offer something better?"

"Because this is skirting perilously close to the edge," Obi-Wan said. "I can't believe that the Code could be as wrong as you seem to believe."

"Not wrong, but merely misinterpreted," C'baoth said. "Perhaps you should focus your meditation on this question. As of course I will myself," he added. "Together, I'm sure we'll obtain the insight to find the proper path."

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan said. "I'd like to come to the meeting tomorrow morning."

"No need," C'baoth said. "Jedi Master Evrios and I will handle things. Besides, I believe you're scheduled to help with the shielding of Dreadnaught-One's new auxiliary navigation room at that time."

"I'm sure that could wait."

"And now you'll want to return to your rest," C'baoth said as they reached the pylon turbolift lobby. "You have a busy day tomorrow."

"As do we all," Obi-Wan said with a sigh. "And you?"

C'baoth gazed thoughtfully down the corridor. "I believe I'll wait for Captain Pakmillu," he said. "Sleep well, Master Kenobi. I'll see you tomorrow."

At the meeting the next morning, after all the various arguments had been presented and the discussion had wound down, Captain Pakmillu sided with C'baoth.

"They took the boy away three hours later," Uliar said, scowling across the table at his friends.

"What do you expect?" Tarkosa asked reasonably from across the table. "Jedi are as rare as dewback feathers. I can understand why they wouldn't want anyone with the talent to slip through their fingers."

"But before it was always just infants," Jobe Keely reminded him, his face puckered with uncertainty. "Kids who don't even know they're alive yet, much less knowing who Mom and Dad are. These kids have all been much older."

"But they've all been willing to go, haven't they?" Tarkosa countered. "Even the boy this morning. He was scared, sure, but he was also pretty excited. Face it, Jobe: most kids think it would be really cool to be a Jedi."

"Myquestion is what they're going to do with all of them," Uliar put in. "They going to throw everyone off one of the Dreadnaughts and build their own little Jedi Temple there?"

"I'm sure C'baoth has some ideas," Tarkosa said firmly. "Seems to me he's pretty much on top of things."

"Yeah," Uliar grunted. "Right."

For a few minutes none of them spoke. Uliar let his eyes drift around the number three messroom, as sterile and military looking as everything else aboard Outbound Flight. The people eating their dinners looked sterile and military, too, in their jumpsuits and other operational garb.

What the place needed was some character, he decided. Maybe he should get some people together and see if Commander Omano would let them redecorate the messrooms with different themes. Maybe a nice upscale Coruscant dinner club for one, a MidRim tapcaf for another, something really sleazy looking for a third, with people encouraged to dress the parts when they went to cat or drink

"What do you know?" Keely said into his thoughts, nodding behind Uliar. "There's one now."

Uliar turned. Sure enough, there was that Jinzler woman who'd dragged Dillian Pressor to a meeting when the man was supposed to be working. She was standing just inside the mess-room doorway, her head moving slowly as she scanned the occupants. A couple of the diners looked up at her, but most didn't even seem to notice she was there. "Trolling for more Jedi?" he suggested.

"Don't seem to be many kids here," Keely pointed out, looking around. "You suppose they're going to go after the adults next?"

"Maybe C'baoth's given them a quota to fill," Uliar said. "You know, like CorSec and traffic tickets."

"CorSec patrollers don't have quotas," Tarkosa said scornfully. "That's a myth."