personal ship's engineers into the weapons bay. No more will escape.'
Sienar absorbed this as if Kett had just announced there would be a change in tomorrow's meal plan. Without replying, leaving Kett's image to hang and flicker above the floor of the cabin, he slowly turned back to the E-5.
'Did you install my program in all of the starfighters?' Sienar asked the captain.
'I followed your orders to the letter, Commander.'
Sienar's lips curled in a brief and silent curse. He had underestimated Tarkin. No doubt Tarkin had customized the droids-all the droids-with hidden subcode blocks containing contingency programs. Sienar had not bothered to look. He had taken some things at face value.
So who was the fool now?
'Destroy the starfighters,' he said, trying to keep calm.
'That will reveal our presence, Commander.'
'If we do not destroy them, they will reveal our presence for us. I do not want rogue units in action out there.'
'Yes, sir.' Kett made a slashing motion with one hand. Another vibration came through the ship's hull- turbolasers reaching out with short-range settings.
'We have intercepted one of the five,' Kett said. 'The others are out of range. I will dispatch-'
'No. Hold. Sweep this entire system with active sensors, Captain Kett. Let me know the results immediately.'
'Yes, sir.'
Sienar took out his laser pistol and approached the shivering E-5 with some trepidation. He wondered if Tarkin's subcodes included orders to assassinate. In truth, however, he could not be sure such subcodes even existed-and he needed to learn quickly.
'Drop your armor integrity. Deactivate and shut down all energy sources, damp them completely,' he ordered, and flashed an authorization code from his analyzer. The droid complied with his instructions-which meant that any subcode
programs did not completely wrest control from the main intelligence.
As the E-5 slumped with a weary little howl, Sienar slipped on a breather mask and applied his laser to the droid's outer shell. In minutes, he had filled the commander's cabin with dense smoke, setting off alarms which he grimly ignored.
Chapter 42
Workers at the end of the factory valley helped Anakin and Obi-Wan out of the new-made Sekotan starship and guided them to a platform that surrounded the finishing station. It was early morning, and darkness still covered the valley, though they were now above the canopy. The blaze of stars and glowing gases, and the ubiquitous red and purple pinwheel, cast vague colored shadows on the dimly lit platform.
Their new ship lay in a cradle of Jentari tendrils, rocking gently from its brisk creation, or-Anakin could not help thinking- quivering with its own youthful energy.
Anakin had never seen a prettier ship. The hull of the little starship glowed faintly from within, and pools of deep-sea luminosity seemed to come and go under its shiny green skin. He walked around it on the platform, with Obi- Wan at his side, and together, they surveyed the ship in whose creation they had played such a substantial role.
'I wonder if it's lonely,' Anakin said.
'It can stand to be apart from us for a few minutes,' Obi- Wan said. 'Besides, they need to put in the last-'
'I know,' Anakin said. 'I was just wondering.' His Master's inability to understand what he meant irritated him. The ship filled his eyes and it filled his heart, it seemed so much a part of him.
The workers and artisans at this end of the valley were once again Ferroans, dressed in long black robes with edges of nebular blue. They walked over the lamina platform in the near dark, their slippered feet making tiny padding noises, and younger assistants-most no older than Anakin-directed the spots of tiny electric torches on the parts of the new ship they wished to examine.
This end of the valley was crowded with stone pillars. Houses, administration buildings, engineering sheds, and warehouses occupied other pillars nearby, and a dense network of bridges made of living tendrils and lamina connected them.
A transport flew over the platform and came to rest on a rock pillar some fifty meters away.
Obi-Wan patted Anakin's shoulder in reassurance that he was not without feeling, that he did understand, and looked west to see if he could make sense of all the other activity they had seen in the factory valley.
Some hidden and massive project was under way, of that he was sure-something that probably involved all of Zonama Sekot. The Magisters had long ago harnessed the peculiarly ordered and interconnected organisms of the planet to do their bidding. Was it possible that now, Sekot and the settlers of Zonama had some mutual interest that demanded even more extensive cooperation, even more construction?
Anakin was dead on his feet. He had never felt so tired, even after racing, and so it was with relief that he joined Obi-Wan on a long couch as the chief of artisans at this end of the factory valley brought them a tray of cold drinks and a sheaf of plans.
'My name is Fitch,' the Ferroan introduced himself. He was shorter than the others, and stouter, and his hair was dense black. His face shone with ghostly pallor in the starlight. 'You've got an extraordinary vessel,' Fitch added with his own share of pride. 'My people will finish her in the next couple of hours. The Jentari's work was
