"Do it. Then give me your best estimate of the blast radius and the extent of the debris cloud." Boiny swallowed hard. "Even my best estimate is going to be plus or minus a couple of hundred kilometers, Captain." Cohl mulled it over in silence, then glanced at Rella. "Come about-hard." She stared at him. "It's confirmed: You've lost your mind." "You heard me," Cohl snapped. "It's back to the freighter for us." Just inside the magcon portal of the Acquisitor's portside hangar arm, Daultay Dofine crawled indecorously from the barrel-shaped escape pod the freighter's powerful tractor beam had retrieved.

The navigator and the rest followed him out.

Commander Lagard was on hand to meet them.

"It is an honor to rescue so celebrated a person," Lagard said.

Dofine adjusted the fit of his robes and straightened his command miter.

"Yes, I'm sure it is," he replied. "Did you do as I asked and contact Viceroy Gunray?" Lagard indicated the Neimoidian mechno-chair that had probably conveyed him from the bridge. "The viceroy is eager to hear what you have to report. As am I, Commander." Dofine pushed past Lagard to get to the chair, which immediately began to move off in the direction of the centersphere- no doubt at Lagard's remote behest.

A product of Affodies Crafthouse of Pure Neimoidia, the curious and prohibitively costly device had two sickle-shaped rear legs that terminated in single-claw feet, and a pair of double — clawed articulated guidance limbs.

The laser-etched designs that covered its metallic surface were modeled after the shell ornamentation of Neimoidia's sovereign beetle. Gyroscopically balanced, the high-backed chair was more status symbol than practical mode of transport, but Dofine had grasped that the chair had not been provided for his benefit.

Where one would have sat was a circular hologram plate, from which projected the miniature holopresence of Viceroy Nute Gunray himself, leader of the Neimoidian Inner Circle and a member of the seven-person Trade Federation Directorate. Impediments of interstellar origin dazed the feed with diagonal lines of noise.

"Viceroy," Dofine said, bowing in obeisance before he hurried to catch up with the slowly scuttling chair.

Gunray had a jutting lower jaw, and his thick lower lip was uncompanioned. A deep fissure separated his bulging forehead into two lateral lobes. His skin was kept a healthy gray-blue by means of frequent massages and meals of the finest fungus. Red and orange robes of exquisite hand fell from his narrow shoulders, along with a round-collared brown surplice that reached his knees.

Around his neck hung a pectoral of elongated teardrops of electrum, and a black tiara-triple-crested, with a pair of dangling tails-sat atop his regal head.

"What is so urgent, Commander Dofine?" Gunray asked.

"Viceroy, it is my sad duty to report that the Revenue has been seized by members of the Nebula Front.

The cargo of lom — mite ore floats in space, and, even as we speak, an explosive device counts down the moments to the ship's destruction." Realizing that he had forgotten to peel the timer from the back of his hand, Dofine retracted his hand into the loose sleeve of his robe.

"So Captain Cohl strikes again," Gunray said.

"Yes, Viceroy. But I bring news of an even more distressing nature."

Dofine glanced around him, in the hope that Lagard was out of earshot, but, of course, he wasn't. "The cache of au — rodium ingots," he said at last. "Cohl somehow knew about it. I had no recourse but to turn it over to him."

Expecting rebuke or worse, Dofine hung his head in shame as he trailed the mechno-chair. But the viceroy surprised him.

"The lives of you and your crew were at stake." "Just so, Excellency."

"Then stand tall, Commander Dofine," Gunray said.

"For what has happened today may well prove a boon for the Trade Federation, and a blessing for all Neimoidians." "A boon, Viceroy?" Gunray nodded. "I order you to assume command of the Acquisitor.

Recall the starfighters and withdraw the freighter from combat." "Cohl is headed back to the freighter," Obi-Wan said from the controls of the Judicial Department starfighter. "Could he have tricked the freighter into abandoning its cargo, even though it wasn't in jeopardy?" "I doubt it," Qui-Gon said. He pressed his face close to the Lancet's transparisteel canopy. "All of Gobi's support ships- — even the corvette-are distancing themselves from the Revenue.His""" "It's true, Master. Even the Aequisitor is under way." "Then we're safe in concluding that the freighter is marked for destruction. And yet, Captain Cohl is speeding toward it." "As we are, Master," Obi-Wan thought to point out.

"What could Cohl have in mind?" Qui-Gon asked himself aloud. "He's not a man to undertake desperate acts, Obi-Wan, let alone suicidal ones." "The shuttle isn't decelerating or changing course. Cohl is shooting straight for the starboard hangar arm." "Just where we started." Obi-Wan's brow began to furrow in concern.

"Master, we're getting awfully close. If the freighter is truly marked for destruction…" "I realize that, Padawan. Perhaps Captain Cohl is merely testing us." Obi-Wan waited a long moment before he allowed concern to show in his voice. "Master?" Qui-Gon watched the shuttle angle down toward the center of the circle that was the Revenue.

Stretching out with his feelings, he did not like what he found.

"Abort the pursuit, Obi-Wan," he said suddenly. "Quickly!" Obi-Wan fed full power to the Lancet's drives and pulled the yoke sharply toward him. At full boost, the ship climbed in a long loop away from the freighter.

Suddenly, the Revenue exploded. In the Lancet's cockpit, it was as if someone had draped a bright white curtain over the canopy. The small craft received a punch in the tail that sent it rocking forward, riding the crest of the detonation wave. Great hunks of molten durasteel streaked like comets to all sides. The Lancet shook to the breaking point, systems shorting out with showers of sparks, and displays showing nothing but noise before they darkened.

Glancing over his shoulder, Obi-Wan watched the Revenue burst into sections, the massive hangar arms making brief, fist — first contact, then rolling off to opposite sides, as two loosed crescents.

The centersphere and bridge tower spun away from the destroyed acceleration compensator stalk and what was left of the ship's trio of gaping exhaust ports.

Some distance away the Acquisitor was moving for the safety of Dorvalla's dark side.

Cohl's corvette and two of the support starfighters streaked away from the planet and made the jump to hyperspace.

"Dorvalla is either about to gain a moonlet or fall victim to a devastating meteor," Obi-Wan said when he could.