Obi-Wan opened a comm channel to Charza Kwinn.

"You messed with the droids," Tarkin said, shaking his head in pity, "Didn't you trust me?"

He and Raith Sienar faced each other in Tarkin's cabin aboard his headquarters vessel, the converted hauler Rim Merchant Einem. The cabin was less luxurious than Sienar's had been, but it was in a larger vessel filled with many more weapons.

"No more than you trusted me." Sienar held up his hands and pointed a long finger at Tarkin. "You meant for all my efforts to come tumbling down, and then you'd show up and save the day. Well, I damned near had a Sekotan ship, Tarkin, and you've messed it all up. Now, who knows what's going to happen?"

"I see," Tarkin said, and paced back and forth across his cabin floor. "Droid starfighters going off on their own. . highly unusual." He could not hide his expression, as much grimace as grin. "Interfering with droid intelligences is a tricky operation. Are you sure you didn't do something wrong?"

Sienar did not reply.

Tarkin called up an image of Zonama Sekot in the middle of the cabin and walked around it, chin in hand. "Our sensors tell us something is going on down there, perhaps set off by the starfighters… a kind of chase between three ships. Where is Ke Daiv now?"

Sienar pointed at the planet's image. "Unless your trickery has killed him."

"Captain Kett informs us you had a long talk with Ke Daiv, and then reassigned him. Was he impressed by what you had to say?"

"I told him he could procure a Sekotan ship and save us all a lot of bother. He seemed to look upon it as an adventure."

"You haven't heard from him, I assume?"

Sienar shook his head.

"Very tough to kill, these Blood Carvers. Useful in so many ways, resourceful, yet mercurial." Tarkin waxed philosophical. "This competition. . how ridiculous! What has either of us accomplished, Raith?"

"I take it you're going to conquer and take command of Zonama Sekot. . you're going to invade?"

"I've already given the orders. The ships are assuming their positions around the planet," Tarkin said. "The Republic has a strong chancellor, a true leader. And the senate is remarkably docile these days. But they can be persuaded, if you have the right contacts. And I do. I always have, Raith."

"What weapons?"

"We were given more Republic sky-mine delivery ships, and we took control of many more Trade Federation droid starfighters than were assigned to you-with intelligences intact. We also have sufficient firepower aboard the cruisers to lay waste to any inhabited areas should they defy our diplomatic requests. I have long suspected this planet could create ships and arms for a rebellion."

"How subtle," Sienar said.

"How effective" Tarkin corrected. "But let's watch this little race drama, while my fleet demonstrates its power." The view magnified until they could see the outlines of the three ships, flying just above the tops of dense jungle growth along the equator. "I recognize a YT-1150. Are the other ships Sekotan? Spacecraft, or atmospheric?"

Sienar kept his silence. In truth, he did not know.

"I do believe the YT-1150 is an aggressor, chasing native ships," Tarkin mused. "I believe we will inform whoever is in charge on Zonama Sekot that we have begun our police action by capturing or incapacitating that ship, and then we will sit down to discuss protection agreements."

Captain Mignay of the Rim Merchant Einem presented a small image of herself. "Commander Tarkin, there appear to be other ships emerging from hidden hangars on Zonama Sekot. There are also large constructions buried on the planet that we cannot identify."

Tarkin frowned and concentrated his attention on new pictures. Dozens of craft were rising from the Sekotan jungles around the long, inhabited canyon known as Middle Distance.

"You've caused some commotion, I see," Sienar observed.

"They may have a few light defenses," Tarkin said. "Nothing starfighters can't handle. Captain Mignay, release our first rank of starfighters, and coordinate their actions with the sky-mine layers."

"Any warning to the planet, sir, before we begin?" the captain asked.

"No," Tarkin said huffily. "If they don't recognize the rule of law, enacted by Republic ships, I doubt we can reason with them."

Tarkin would not be swayed by anything less than complete submission. Sienar ground his teeth. Even among rogues in a degenerate age, this seemed to overstep the bounds of decency. But then what did he know? He obviously was out of touch with the senate's mood.

Sienar doubted Zonama Sekot would be able to match the combined firepower of two squadrons, or the horror of an atmosphere filled with drifting sky mines seeking anything that moved.

He almost felt sorry for them.

Anakin, fully recovered now, could feel the ship's immediate response, the wonderful surges of instant power, the way she cut through die air almost as effortlessly as if they were in a vacuum. The hull created subtle lift and was remarkably stable. On any world with an atmosphere, she would land sweetly. It took very little of his attention to fly the ship. Information arrived in comfortable flows through his contact with the ship's mind. She truly was a dream, alive to his touch.

But any joy he might have taken in this first flight was tainted by his concern for Obi-Wan. His face was deeply carved by a grim frown.

The Blood Carver stared at the young human, nose flaps closed, sharp as a blade. "I did not kill your master," Ke Daiv said. "It would have served no purpose."

"But you would have killed me, once," Anakin said through clenched teeth.

"I follow orders," the Blood Carver said.

"So you're an assassin. Do you even know my name?"

"You are the only one named Skywalker."

"If you're going to kill me, I'd like to know your name."

"Ke Daiv."

"I've never met a Blood Carver before," Anakin said. "I can't say it's a pleasure."

"Just fly. We need to find fuel."

"I don't know where to get any!" Anakin lied. The seeds knew-they were talking with other parts of Sekot.

And something or someone else flowed through his fingers where they were enmeshed by the controls. Anakin kept seeing misting ghosts around the cabin, like afterimages from bright sun-he had to work to concentrate on the scene around him.