Part 31 (1/2)

So what was the truth? Were he and Qennto and Marls just p.a.w.ns in some sort of political game? And if so, what was the game?

Maris, Car'das knew, trusted Thrawn's honor. Qennto just as strongly distrusted his alienness and the fact that he was a military officer.

Car'das himself no longer knew what to think.

But one thing he knew. Things were heating up out here, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that the Bargain Hunter's crew had overstayed their welcome. Somehow they had to find a way out.

And they had to find it soon.

The first Uliar knew of the trouble was when he rounded the corner to find the other two members of his watch s.h.i.+ft standing outside the monitor room door. ”What's going on?” he asked as he came up to them.

”Got a special tour going on,” Sivv, the senior officer, told him.

”Ma'Ning and some sprouts.”

”Some what?”

”Some of his junior Jedi,” Algrann said scornfully. ”They swept in ten minutes before Gra.s.sling's s.h.i.+ft ended and threw everyone out.”

”And we're not allowed in?” Uliar asked, not believing it.

Sivv shrugged. ”He told Gra.s.sling he'd let him know when they could come back in,” he said. ”I haven't actually asked myself.”

Uliar glowered at the door. Jedi. Again. ”Mind if I try?”

Sivv waved a hand. ”Help yourself.”

Stepping to the door, Uliar slapped the release. It slid open, and he stepped inside.

Jedi Master Ma'Ning was standing to the side of the main board, in the middle of a discussion about how the monitors and control systems worked.

His eyes turned questioningly to Uliar as he came in, but he didn't miss a beat of his lecture. Seated at the board itself were four children, the two shortest having to kneel on the seats in order to see.

It was like a scene out of a second-tier cla.s.sroom, except that this wasn't a scribble board or even a training mock-up. This was the real, actual control system for one of the reactors that kept power flowing to Dreadnaught-4.

Ma'Ning finished the sentence he'd been on and lifted his eyebrows toward Uliar. ”Yes, Uliar?” he asked.

”No offense, Master Ma'Ning,” Uliar said, coming closer to the others, ”but what in blazes are you doing?”

The lines around Ma'Ning's eyes might have tightened a little. ”I'm instructing the young Padawans in the basics of reactor operation.”

Uliar took another look at the children. Ages five to eight, he guessed, all of them with the bright eyes and bouncy curiosity of children everywhere.

But there was something more there, he saw now. An underlying layer of seriousness that was definitely not characteristic of children that age.

Some Jedi thing? ”Much as I appreciate their desire to learn, this is no place for children,” he said. ”And if I may say so, you're hardly the one to be instructing anyone in the subtleties of reactor operation.”

”I'm simply giving them an overview,” Ma'Ning a.s.sured him.

”You shouldn't be giving them anything,” Uliar countered. ”Where high-energy equipment is concerned, a little knowledge is worse than useless, and dangerous on top of it. Whose stupid idea was this, anyway?”

Ma'Ning's lips tightened slightly. ”Master C'baoth has decided all Jedi and Padawans need to learn how to control Outbound Flight's critical systems.”

Uliar stared at him. ”You're joking.”

”Not at all,” Ma'Ning a.s.sured him. ”Don't worry, we'll be out of your way in another half hour.”

”You'll be out of our way a lot sooner than that,” Uliar growled, reaching between two of the children to the comm control. ”Bridge; Reactor Control Three. Commander Omano, please.”

”One moment.”

Uliar looked over at Ma'Ning, wondering if the other would try to stop this. But the Jedi was just standing there, his eyes lowered in a sort of half-meditation look.

”Commander Omano.”

”Reactor Tech Four Uliar, Commander,” Uliar identified himself ”There are unauthorized personnel in our control room who refuse to leave.”

Omano's sigh was a taint hiss in the comm speaker. ”Jedi?”

Uliar had the sudden sense of the floor preparing to drop out from beneath him. ”One of them is a Jedi, yes,” he said carefully. ”They're still not authorized to-”

”Unfortunately, they are,” Omano cut him off ”Master C'baoth has requested that his people be given full access to all areas and systems aboard Outbound Flight.”

Even though he'd suspected what was coming, the words were still like a cold-water slap across the face. ”With all due respect, Commander, that's both absurd and dangerous,” Uliar said. ”Having children in the-”

”You have your orders, Tech Uliar,” Omano again cut him off. ”If you don't like it, you're welcome to take it up with Master C'baoth. Omano out.” There was a click, and the comm went dead.

Uliar looked up to find Ma'Ning's eyes on him. ”Fine,” he said, meeting the Jedi's gaze head-on. If they thought he was going to bow and sc.r.a.pe just because they wore those affected peasant robes and carried lightsabers, they had an extra bonus think coming. ”Where do I find Master C'baoth?”

”He's down in the Jedi training center,” Ma'Ning said. ”Storage core, section one twenty-four.”

Uliar stared at him. ”Your school's in the storage core? What's wrong with the Dreadnaughts?”

Ma'Ning's lip twitched. ”Master C'baoth thought it would be best if we were as far away from distractions as possible.”

Distractions like parents and family and normal people? Probably. Deep inside him, Uliar's annoyance was starting to turn into a genuine simmering anger. ”Fine,” he said. ”I'll be back.”

”Well?” Algrann asked when he emerged into the corridor.

”Omano's knuckled under,” Uliar told him tartly. ”I'm going to go talk to the Big Clouf himself and see if I can talk some sense into him.”

”Captain Pakmillu?”

”Pakmillu doesn't seem to be running the show anymore,” Uliar growled.

”I'm going to see C'baoth. Either of you want to come along?”