Star Wars - Outbound Flight

by Timothy Zahn

  “Nothing that I or fifty thousand other people have been able to think of,” Pakmillu said with typically dry Mon Cal humor. “I believe Outbound Flight is ready to fly.”

  “Excellent,” Doriana said. “Supreme Chancellor Palpatine will be pleased to hear it.”

  “We couldn’t have done it without his help,” Pakmillu said gravely. “Please extend our gratitude one final time to him for all his efforts on our behalf.”

  “I certainly will,” Doriana promised. A final time it would be, too. “Then that’s that. I’ll see you in—what? Five years? Ten?”

  “However long it takes,” Pakmillu said, looking around his Dreadnaught-1 command bridge. “But we will be back.”

  “I’ll look forward to your return,” Doriana said with all the false sincerity he could conjure up. “In the meantime, a safe voyage to you. And don’t forget, if you do discover anything else you need, the Supreme Chancellor’s Office stands ready to assist. You still have three weeks before you leave Republic space—plenty of time for emergency supplies or equipment to be assembled and transported to you.”

  “I will remember,” Pakmillu said, bowing his head. “May I escort you back to your transport?”

  “No need,” Doriana assured him. “I know you must have a hundred matters yet to deal with before you leave Yaga Minor. Fly safely, and may the Force he with you.”

  “With nineteen Jedi aboard, I’m sure it will,” Pakmillu assured him. “Rather, nineteen and a half.”

  “Most definitely,” Doriana agreed, keeping his smile in place as he frowned behind it. Nineteen Jedi? And a half? “Good-bye, Captain.”

  He waited until the pilot had maneuvered the transport out of Dreadnaught- l’s forward hangar bay and had them skimming smoothly across the outer fringes of Yaga Minor’s atmosphere before he pulled out Pakmillu’s passenger list and plugged it into

  his datapad. The last Jedi numbers he’d heard had put the total at seventeen, not nineteen. Had there been a sudden change in plans? And what in blazes was half a Jedi, anyway? The rumors about how Darth Maul had died flashed unpleasantly to mind…

  He pulled up the Jedi list and ran his eye down it. The names were very familiar, most of them potential troublemakers whom he himself had subtly nudged C’baoth into inviting aboard his grand expedition. The first addition to the list, Lorana Jinzler, wasn’t really a surprise; Doriana had always thought it likely that C’baoth’s former Padawan would decide to stay with him awhile longer. The other two were Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan, Anakin Skywalker.

  Doriana smiled to himself. So Skywalker was Pakmillu’s half Jedi. Cute; and an unexpected bonus for all his hard work, as well. Ever since Kenobi and the boy had nearly scuttled the Barlok operation, he’d had an uncomfortable feeling about the pair. Their deaths aboard Outbound Flight would be nicely convenient.

  Outbound Flight had disentangled itself from the last of its docking and support equipment now and was making its ponderous way out of Yaga Minor’s gravity well toward deep space. A minute later, as Doriana continued to watch through the transport’s canopy, it flickered and vanished into hyperspace.

  He looked back down at his datapad. Still, bonus or not, he’d better check with Sidious and let him know that Kenobi and Skywalker were aboard, just to make sure that fit in with the Sith Lord’s plans.

  And he’d better check before Outbound Flight meandered its way out of the Republic. Forever.

  The shuttle took him to the Yavvitiri Spaceport, a few kilometers from the Preparation Center where all the preliminary work on Outbound Flight had taken place. Palpatine and the Senate had tried to keep a low profile on the project, perhaps fearing a backlash about all the money they were spending, and for the most part they’d succeeded. In his various official and unofficial travels over the past six weeks, Doriana had found virtually no one who had even heard of it.

  Still, here at the very center of the project, it could hardly have been ignored. But to his mild surprise, he didn’t hear a single word about Outbound Flight’s departure as he walked through the spaceport’s corridors. True, the work had for the most part moved up to the Dreadnaughts themselves four weeks ago, taking the project out of the public’s day-to-day view. But he still would have expected someone to have raised his head out of the mud long enough to take note of such a historic event.

  Perhaps in these days of growing political and social turmoil, he mused, even historic events were soon forgotten. In this particular case, it was just as well.

  He’d left his own ship berthed on the far side of the spaceport, in the restricted zone reserved for diplomats and high governmental officials. Passing through security, he headed through the maze of corridors to his docking bay. He keyed open the hatch and went inside, locking it again behind him, then made his way to the cockpit. Seating himself in the pilot’s seat, he punched for the tower. “This is Kinman Doriana of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s Office,” he identified himself when the controller answered. “Requesting a lift slot in thirty minutes.”

  “Acknowledged, Doriana,” the other said. “Thirty-minute lift slot confirmed.”

  “Thank you.” Shutting off the corm, Doriana keyed for full-ship start-up, watching the displays closely as the systems began coming online.

  “You are late, Commander Stratis.”

  Doriana gave the displays one more leisurely look. Then, just as leisurely, he turned around.

  The Neimoidian was wedged half hidden in the holo alcove off the cockpit’s aft bulkhead, glowering at him from beneath his short, five-cornered hat. “Vicelord Siv Kav,” Doriana greeted him. “May I say how very uncomfortable you look.”

  “Very amusing,” Kav growled. Working his shoulders back and forth, he managed to extricate himself and his elaborately layered robes from the alcove. “You should have been here an hour ago.”

  “Why?” Doriana countered calmly. “Isn’t your fleet ready?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “And Outbound Flight only just now left,” Doriana said. “Plenty of time to set up our ambush.” He cocked his head slightly. “Or are you simply annoyed that I made you hide there in your little hole longer than you expected?”

  “I was not hiding,” the Neimoidian insisted stiffly. “I simply did not wish to be seen if someone from the Spaceport Authority came in unexpectedly.”

  “You could have accomplished that by waiting in the guest cabin as I’d instructed,” Doriana pointed out. “But of course, in there you wouldn’t have been able to eavesdrop on my clearance request to the tower. Tell me: was the knowledge of my true name and position worth the wait?”

  Kav’s large eyes studied his face. “We were betrayed once by your Master,” he said, his voice darkening. “Darth Sidious promised that Naboo would be ours, that we would have the foothold we needed there. But the battle turned, and he abandoned us.”

  “The reversal of battle was not his fault,” Doriana countered. “You want to blame someone, blame Amidala. And you have hardly been abandoned.”

  “Is Naboo ours, then?” Kav said sarcastically. “I must have missed that fact.”

  “Naboo is nothing,” Doriana said. “The continued existence and functioning of your Trade Federation is infinitely more valuable. Or did you also miss the fact that it has yet to be punished for its excesses?”

  “The lack of punishment is not Sidious’s doing,” Kav insisted. “That is the doing of the judiciary, at the cost of far too many expensive legal representatives.”

  Doriana smiled thinly. “Do you really think the judiciary wouldn’t have bowed to Senate pressure by now without someone operating behind the scenes on your behalf?”

  A hint of uncertainty crossed Kav’s face. “You?” he suggested.

  Doriana shrugged. “Lord Sidious has many servants.”

  “Yet this particular servant resides in the Supreme Chancellor’s Office,” Kav said, gesturing toward him. “That must be very useful for him.”

  Doriana let his fa
ce harden. “Yes, it is,” he said softly. “And from this point on you will forget you’ve ever heard that name and that position. Forever. Is that clear?”

  Kav started to sniff in contempt, took another look at Doriana’s face. “It is clear, Master Stratis,” he said instead.

  “Good.” Doriana gestured toward the cockpit door. “Then if you’ll return to your cabin, I have a ship to fly. You have the fleet’s coordinates for me?”

  “Yes.” Kav’s long fingers dipped into a recess of his robe and emerged with a data card. “It will take no more than two days to reach them.”

  “Good,” Doriana said. “That should give us time to finalize our attack strategy.”

  “ I am the one trained in battle tactics,” the other said stiffly. “The attack strategy will be mine.”

  “Of course,” Doriana said, suppressing a sigh. “I meant only that I’d be available to assist you. Now if you’ll return to your cabin, we’ll be on our way.”

  The Neimoidian drew himself up and, with his pride at least momentarily appeased, strode from the room.

  Shaking his head, Doriana crossed to the holo alcove. Neimoidians. If they didn’t control one of the best collections of military hardware in the Republic, he would have recommended dumping the whole species down the refresher long ago. He just hoped Sidious was working on finding someone more competent to replace them.

  Positioning himself in the alcove, he keyed for a HoloNet relay. The lights winked on, and he signaled for his Master.

  The wait was longer than usual, and more than once he considered taking a quick trip forward to check again on the status boards. But each time he resisted the temptation. If Sidious came on and had to wait, he would not be happy.

  At last the familiar hooded figure appeared. “Report.”

  “Outbound Flight is on its way, Lord Sidious,” Doriana said. “I have Vicelord Kav aboard, and will be heading for the rendezvous within the hour.”

  “Excellent,” Sidious said. “And you know precisely where in the Unknown Regions Outbound Flight will be stopping?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Doriana said. “Captain Pakmillu has two separate navigational checks planned for the first eight hundred light-years beyond Republic space. I have the coordinates of both.”

  “Be sure you take the first one,” Sidious warned. “It may be that C’baoth in his impatience will order the second to be canceled.”

  “That is indeed my plan, my lord,” Doriana confirmed. “One final matter. I have Pakmillu’s final passenger listing, and three more Jedi have been added.”

  “One of them being Lorana Jinzler, no doubt,” Sidious said. “C’baoth had earlier informed the Senate she would be accompanying him.” The drooping corners of his mouth turned briefly upward in a sardonic smile. “Though I don’t believe he had mentioned it to the woman herself.”

  “Yes, she’s one of them,” Doriana confirmed. “The others are Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan, Anakin Skywalker.”

  Sidious’s smile vanished. “Skywalker?” he hissed. “Who authorized this?”

  “I don’t know, my lord,” Doriana said, feeling his heart starting to thud in his chest. The last time he’d seen Sidious like this, someone had died. Violently. “It must have been C’baoth—”

  “He cannot go on that ship,” Sidious cut in sharply. “He must remain here. You will see to it.”

  “Understood, my lord,” Doriana said quickly. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him off ”

  He reached for the cutoff switch, his mind whirling as he tried to sort through the options. Outbound Flight’s first scheduled stop was at Lonnaw system. If he headed there immediately. But he couldn’t, not with Vicelord Kav aboard. Too much risk that someone would see the Neimoidian and make a connection they couldn’t afford. He would first have to drop Kav with the attack force, then go after Outbound Flight. That meant the Lonnaw connection wouldn’t work, which meant he would have to try for their next stop, Argai, all the way over in Haldeen sector. If he missed them there...

  “Wait.”

  Doriana paused, his hand hovering over the control. Sidious’s lips had tightened, and Doriana had the sense that the Sith Lord was running through the same logic chain he himself had just been working out.

  And apparently had come to the same conclusion. “No, you continue with the plan,” he said, his voice calm again. “I will remove Skywalker from Outbound Flight.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Doriana said, wilting a little with relief. He didn’t have the foggiest idea how Sidious was going to pull that one off, especially with C’baoth and five other Jedi Masters on hand to oppose him. But that was the Sith Lord’s problem. Doriana was off the hook, and that was the important thing. “I’ll contact you again when the mission has been accomplished.”

  “Do that, Doriana,” Sidious said. His eyes, as always, were hidden by his hood; just the same, Doriana could almost see them burning a hole through the long light-years separating the two men before the image flickered and vanished.

  For a few seconds Doriana remained where he was, taking deep breaths as he worked out the tension still quivering through his body. Once again, the game had nearly proved fatal. Once again, he had made it through unscathed.

  One of these times, perhaps, he wouldn’t.

  But that future was a long way away. Right now he had a fleet to find, and an ambush to prepare.

  And eighteen Jedi to kill.

  Shutting down the holoprojector, he went back to the pilot’s chair and plugged Kav’s data card into the reader slot. Time to find out exactly where they were going.

  14

  The pylon turbolift car door opened into yet another spacious lobby area. “Okay,” Anakin said, leaning out for a look. “And this one is”—he threw a not quite surreptitious look at the marking on the side—“Dreadnaught-Four?”

  “Correct,” C’baoth said, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder and pressing him forward out of the car. “We’re now at the farthest side of Outbound Flight from the command ship, Dreadnaught- One.”

  “Rather like Tatooine in that respect,” Obi-Wan added drily.

  “Right,” Anakin said. “Only cooler and less sandy.”

  “‘Tatooine?” C’baoth asked.

  “A small planet where Anakin grew up,” Obi-Wan explained. “The locals like to say that it’s the farthest point from the center of the universe, like Dreadnaught-Four’s the farthest from Dreadnaught-One’s command areas.”

  C’baoth nodded. “Ah.”

  Dreadnaught-Four’s architecture and equipment, Obi-Wan noted, were identical to those of the other ships they’d visited on C’baoth’s tour. Not really surprising, considering how the expedition had been put together. Also as in the other Dreadnaughts, the people passing through the corridors around them all seemed to be moving with a brisk, business-like step, their expressions cheerful, confident, and determined.

  Small wonder. Against steep odds their grand adventure had finally begun, and the warm glow of that accomplishment was still with them.

  “Jedi Master Justyn Ma’Ning is in charge of this particular Dreadnaught,” C’baoth said as they headed aft. “I believe you spoke with him at the First Night dinner.”

  “Yes, we chatted for a few minutes,” Obi-Wan said. “I thought Commander Omano was in charge of Dreadnaught-Four.”

  “I meant that Master Ma’Ning oversees Jedi operations and activities,” C’baoth said. “He should be back in Conference Room Five with his two Jedi Knights and a select group of families. Let’s go see how they’re doing.”

  “What were these families selected for?” Obi-Wan asked.

  “The highest honor possible,” C’baoth said. “Over the next few days, one of each family’s children will be starting Jedi training.”

  Obi-Wan stared at him. “Jedi training?”

  “Indeed,” C’baoth confirmed. “You see, along with their basic technical skills, prospective colonists were also screened for the presence of Force-sensitive child
ren. Those families with the most promise were given preferential status, though of course we kept that a secret up until now. We have eleven candidates in all, including the three here in Dreadnaught-Four.”

  “How old are these children?” Obi-Wan asked.

  “They range in age from four to ten,” C’baoth said. He cocked an eyebrow at Anakin. “Which is, I believe, the same age Master Skywalker was when you took him as your Padawan.”

  “It is,” Obi-Wan confirmed, feeling his lip twist. For centuries standard Temple policy had been to accept only infants into Jedi training, and C’baoth knew it. Unfortunately, Anakin was a glaring exception to that rule, an exception C’baoth clearly intended to use as his justification for this. “What about their parents?”

  “What about them?”

  “They’ve all given their permission for this training?”

  “They will,” C’baoth assured him. “As I said, giving a child to the Jedi is the highest honor possible.”

  “So you haven’t actually asked them yet?”

  “Of course not,” C’baoth said, an edge of puzzlement creeping into his tone. “What parent wouldn’t be proud to have a Jedi son or daughter?”

  Obi-Wan braced himself. “But if for some reason they don’t see it that way—”

  “Later,” C’baoth interrupted, gesturing to a door to their right. “We’re here.”

  The conference room was one of many midsize meeting areas scattered around a typical Dreadnaught. At the far end, standing beside a podium, was Jedi Master Ma’Ning, listening intently to a question from a woman in the front row. Flanking him, dressed in Jedi robes, were a pair of Duros.

  And seated in the rows of chairs in front of them, nearly packing the available space, were perhaps forty men, women, and children. Far more than the three families C’baoth had implied would be here.

  C’baoth was clearly surprised, too. “What in the… ?” he rumbled under his breath, his eyes flashing as he looked around.