most of his political cronies and contacts, and all of his wealth.
Leaving home.
There had not been five seconds strung together in the last six hours since he had seen Tarkin off the ship in which he had been free enough to think things through. No time for arranging backup plans, escape plans. Instead, he had been involved in the minutiae of command: system checks, drills, and the inevitable, infuriating delays of old equipment breaking down.
Tarkin had from the very beginning herded him down a nar row chute like an animal in a slaughterhouse.
No time for self-pity, either. Sienar was not without resources. But getting his reflexes back into shape was going to take some time. He had built up considerable mental flab on Coruscant in the last decade, giving in to discouragement at the decline of the economy, embittered by the increasing corruption of the aristocracy that had been his mother even more than his real mother had.
He had put on a hard face and found that the expression comfortable, and not entirely false. It seemed natural for his uniform, which he had chosen the day before-that of an old-line Trade Defense officer, black and gray and red with opalescent striping.
He now had at least the illusion of control over these ships, these men. Might as well use that as a beginning, a stable ground on which to regain his footing and test how much power and independence he actually had.
'Are the squadron cores in synchrony, Captain?' he asked. 'They are, Commander,' Kett responded. Kett wore a merchant's uniform, a holdover from the Trade Federation, no doubt something he was used to, and less formal than Sienar's. Rumpled, actually.
We are all of us little better than pirates, but we choose our images carefully, Sienar thought. 'Then let's blow the Stardust off our tails,' he said, hoping that language was not too antiquated.
'Yes, sir.' Kett made a small, secret smile.
Sienar stared through the forward ports, hands gripping the railing of his command pulpit. Kett, half a level below him, stood at bridge-rest position, hands folded behind his back, knees slightly bent, as the order was carried through to the linked squadron droid navigation system.
'Departure, Commander,' Kett murmured to Sienar as the forward view skewed and fanned outward, then drew in to a brilliant point. 'We are entering hyperspace.'
'Thank you, Captain Kett,' Sienar said.
'Estimated journey time, three standard days,' Kett said.
'Let's use that time to examine and do more drills on defensive systems,' Sienar said. That would serve as a good distraction for the flagship crew while he did other tasks. 'And present me with the service records of every command officer in the squadron. The complete records, Captain Kett.'
That sounded better.
'I'll prepare a plan and submit the records within the hour, sir,' Kett said.
Much better. It felt right, a good beginning to a complicated mission.
Sienar drew up his shoulders and set his jaw firmly, star ing with steely determination at the potentially nauseating and twisting view outside the ship until the port covers closed all the way.
He then stepped aside and climbed down. A slender, pipe- frame, dark blue navigational droid mounted the pulpit to perform its essential and quite boring duties.
Chapter 19
Anakin squirmed on the cramped transport, unable to see through the small ports placed inconveniently behind the seats. All he could see was a flash of sky and a lumpy green horizon. As the transport flew south, they were moving in and out of the terminator, and the cabin grew light and dark alternately until the transport veered to the west and they flew toward the youth of the day.
The transport offered only the most basic comfort on their trip: four seats, narrow and slung beneath a low ceiling, and a closed cabin door between them and the pilot. Obi-Wan could sense a human behind the door and nothing more. The transport was a familiar enough model, a light expeditionary vehicle often carried inside larger vessels for close-in exploration. Nothing exotic here.
'This is no way to run a planet,' Anakin said.
Obi-Wan agreed. 'They behave as if they have recently suffered problems.'
'With Vergere?'
Obi-Wan smiled. 'Vergere was given no instructions to disrupt. Perhaps with the unknown visitors she was sent to investigate.'
'I don't feel anything like that around here,' Anakin said. 'I can feel the Force in this entire planet, and in the settlers, but…' He grimaced and shook his head.
'Nor do I feel anything unexpected,' Obi-Wan said.
'I didn't say I couldn't feel anything unexpected.'
Obi-Wan leaned his head to one side and looked at his Padawan. 'What, then?'
'I don't expect what I feel. That's all.' The boy shrugged.
Obi-Wan knew that Anakin was often much more tuned to small variations in the Force. 'And what do you sense?'
