Part 25 (1/2)

”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 Ken.o.bi. 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 a.s.sured 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. Why shouldn'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 s.h.i.+elding 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 Ken.o.bi. 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.”

”My question 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.”

”Well, if she's got one, she's not going to fill it tonight,” Keely commented as Jinzler turned and left the room. ”C'baoth's not going to be happy with her.”

”If you ask me, I don't think C'baoth's ever happy with anything,” Uliar said, picking up his mug. ”I've never met anyone so full of himself.”

”I had an instructor at the inst.i.tute just like him,” Tarkosa said. ”One night some of the students sneaked into his office, disa.s.sembled his desk, and rea.s.sembled it in the refresher station down the hall. I thought he was going to pop every blood vessel in his face when he saw it.”

”But I'll bet it didn't solve anything,” Keely commented. ”People like that never learn.” He turned to Uliar. ”Speaking of solving things, Chas, did you ever figure out that line fluctuation problem you were having yesterday? We had to shut down the whole portside turbolaser system.”

”Oh, yeah, we got it sorted it out,” Uliar told him, dragging his mind away from Jedi and dull dining rooms. ”This'll kill you. You know b'Crevnis, that big terminally cheerful Pho Ph'eahian who's supposed to be in charge of fluid-flow maintenance? It seems he managed to mislabel one of his own gauges . . .”

It took until the fourth D-4 messroom she visited, but Lorana finally found the Pressor family. ”h.e.l.lo,” she said, smiling as she walked up to their table. ”How are you all doing tonight?”

”We're fine,” Pressor said, his eyes suddenly wary as he looked up at her. ”Is anything wrong?”

”That depends on how you look at it,” Lorana said, kneeling down between Jorad and his mother. ”I wanted to tell you, Jorad, that your retest again came up negative. I'm sorry.”

The boy made a face. ”That's okay,” he said, clearly disappointed. ”Mom and Dad said it probably wouldn't change.”

”Moms and dads are smart that way,” Lorana said. ”I hope you're not too disappointed.”