"No. They're called lost ones," Jabitha said. "Father thinks some of them escape from the burning nurseries and get shaped elsewhere, maybe by other rogues. But they're useful. I think they keep the communes on their toes. Sometimes they fly in and snatch seeds, to eat or to raise as their own. I've even seen clouds of smaller wild-types come in during the forging, before the lightning is called down, and snatch up the branches and scraps and pellets intended for the seeds. There aren't many rogues overall. This part of the valley is pretty thick with them, however."

"Have you ever shaped anything?" Anakin asked.

"I helped my mother make our house a couple of years ago. We had three seed-partners Mother had bonded with, and I helped her use the carvers and prods. . but that's getting ahead of things!"

Anakin shook his head. "It all sounds terrific. But I still don't see how you can turn seeds into spacecraft."

"You have to be patient," Jabitha said petulantly. She looked at Obi-Wan. "My father made the first spacecraft when he was a boy. They used the engines from their original colony ship. That was just after my grandfather went looking for more settlers. We wanted all types of people here."

"We have met only Ferroans," Obi-Wan said.

"There are others. Quite a few now. They work in the factory valley."

"Why did your father decide to sell these spacecraft?"

Jabitha ignored Obi-Wan's question. "Look! We're getting close."

Sheekla Farrs stepped forward as the airship was pulled into a docking chute and tied down. Jabitha leapt over the railing onto the landing and helped Anakin out of the gondola. Obi-Wan she left to his own devices. Anakin seemed very interested in everything she had to say.

Jabitha could become a distraction for Anakin, but likely a welcome one, Obi-Wan decided. She would take his mind off ships and help him come to a better understanding of social relationships. Anakin's social upbringing, with the exception of his times spent with the other affiliates and auxiliaries, had been piecemeal at best. A few normal encounters with people his own age could be very helpful-and this girl seemed refreshingly normal. When she is actually physically present!

But Obi-Wan was still concerned about so many unanswered questions. They were still no closer to understanding what had happened to Vergere.

The night before, while Anakin slept, Obi-Wan had visited the library, trying to keep his seed-partners from chewing on the texts. The library had told him nothing he needed to know.

Obi-Wan Kenobi hated knots, puzzles, and conundrums. As Anakin-and Qui-Gon-had reminded him so often, he was a linear kind of guy. But he understood something very well.

The Force was never a nursemaid.

Though at times a very patient man, Raith Sienar itched to get on with his mission. Instinct told him time was of the essence, that such an open world, with such a valuable secret, was like a ripe carcass under a sky full of winged scavengers.

Not that he had ever contended with winged scavengers. Sienar preferred the high-tech comforts of a well-developed planet, whose wilderness had long since been tamed. But he was an educated man and he knew a scavenger when he saw one.

He felt like a scavenger himself, right now.

The first of many.

He looked down on the small image of Kett that flickered to bluish life on his command table. "Yes, Captain?"

Kett seemed uncomfortable. "I have complied with your orders and released the Blood Carver in your ship, Commander."

"All went well?" Sienar had introduced Ke Daiv to his sponsoring "pilot" in the small shuttle docking bay where the private starship had been loaded. Ke Daiv had seemed uncomfortable working with a droid. Sienar had not bothered to explain how he had come by this droid, or how the droid had become a sponsor of clients for Zonama Sekot. Some secrets were best kept.

"Yes, sir."

"And he is well away, heading toward Zonama Sekot?"

"Yes, Commander."

"And no one on the planet has detected our squadron, this far out in the system?"

"No, Commander."

Sienar breathed a sigh of relief. "Then we will await word from Ke Daiv before we make our next move. You seem unhappy, Captain Kett."

"May I speak freely, Commander?"

"Indeed, please do."

"None of this is in accord with our original orders, as outlined by Tarkin."

"And so?"

"I hope to be blunt without causing offense. This is a delicate time, Commander. My ships were once part of an honorable and effective defense force assigned to protect ships belonging to members of the Trade Federation. Our record goes back centuries, with never a blot."

"A record to be proud of, Captain."

"I do not know how we will be treated as part of the Republic defense forces. I hope the integration will be smooth, and that I may continue my honorable career."

Honor, Sienar thought, is much overstated in that record. You took part in the worst of the Trade Federation transgressions. You personally held planetary systems at blasterpoint, forced concessions, escorted contraband drugs and machines, and transported immigrants whose bodies were laced with time-delay biological weapons. .You will be lucky if people like Tarkin can divert the attention of the senatorial arm of justice and save you from a summary trade- crimes trial. But he maintained a sympathetic face for the captain.

"I do not trust this Blood Carver, sir. His people are notorious for fiery tempers and dirty deeds."

"He was handpicked by Tarkin. You have in your orders that he is to be accorded complete cooperation in whatever he might do."

Including assassination of your commander should things go wrong.

"I am aware of that, sir."

"Then what is your point, Captain Kett?"

"I wish to communicate my unease, sir."

"So noted. I hope you will maintain your vigilance."

"Yes, sir."

Sienar disconnected, and the image blipped into nothing.

Using the Blood Carver as a client was not a brilliant stratagem, but it would serve. Judging from all he had learned from the pilot of the ruined Sekotan craft now in his deep-city hangar, before that pilot had died. .