The Council Chamber holoprojector was oriented toward the chair at the head of the speaking circle. That chair now sat vacant; Saba remained in her customary seat, in the middle of one side. She had not done this because it forced Chief of State Daala to converse with a turned head—though that was the effect. Nor had she chosen this location to suggest to Daala that Kenth Hamner was merely absent instead of dead—though she intended to do just that. She had not even chosen this seat because it made it easier to hide her own injuries by presenting her profile to the holocams—though she hoped that would work.
No. Saba had chosen her customary seat because she was not worthy of the Grand Master’s chair. She had slain Kenth Hamner in a dominance fight, and good longtails did not make such mistakes. They knew how to control without killing, to lead without biting away the parts that made a pack strong. Now the Order was missing a worthy Master, the young ones had lost a wise teacher, and Saba would have no chance to repair a friendship that had meant much to her in the past. And all of that was her failure.
The hologram in the center of the circle flickered, then finally stabilized as Daala stopped searching for Kenth and fixed her gaze on Saba.
“I was expecting to speak with Grand Master Hamner,” Daala announced. The life-sized hologram revealed the toll recent events had taken on the Chief of State. Her face looked haggard; her eyes were red and the skin below them sagged with exhaustion. “Fetch him at once.”
“Grand Master Hamner is not available,” Saba replied evenly. “You may speak to this one.”
Daala shook her head. “No,” she said. “You will fetch Hamner at once. After what the Jedi have done today, you are on the verge of open warfare with the entire Galactic Alliance military.”
“The entire military?” Saba let out a derisive siss. “This one does not believe you.”
“What you believe doesn’t matter,” Daala said. “Where is Master Hamner?”
“Unavailable.”
As Saba spoke, a door on the far side of the Council Chamber slid open. Corran Horn entered the room with Cilghal close on his heels and strode toward the speaking circle. As soon as they were close enough to see Daala’s hologram hovering over the projector pad, they stopped and remained outside the cam angle.
“Very well, then,” Daala said. “Assemble the rest of the Council.”
Knowing that Daala would notice even the slightest flicker of her eyes toward Corran and Cilghal, Saba was careful to keep her gaze fixed on the hologram. Instead, she touched both of them through the Force, just a gentle nudge to see if they wished to assume their seats. When both shook their heads, Saba leaned closer to the holoprojector.
“The rest of the Council is not available,” she said. “If you wish to speak to the Jedi, speak to this one.”
Daala’s eyes narrowed. “Where are they?” she demanded. “What are you planning now?”
“The Jedi have executed their planz, Chief Daala,” Saba replied. “Now the question is this: what are your planz?”
“You would be wise to assume the worst, Master Sebatyne,” Daala replied. “You leave me no other choice.”
“There is alwayz a choice, Chief Daala.” Saba sat back in her chair and placed her hands on the armrests. “This time, the choice is yourz. If it is a fight you wish, the Jedi will oblige you—in that much, at least.”
Daala’s expression hardened to ice. “Am I to take that as a threat, Master Sebatyne? Don’t waste your breath. The Jedi might take hostages, but they would never kill a hundred beings in cold blood. Even I don’t believe that.”
Saba started to deny that the sabacc players were hostages, but she stopped when Corran Horn gave her a Force nudge and stepped into the camera range.
“Chief Daala, did you believe the Jedi would join forces with the Sith?” Corran asked. Instead of slipping into his seat at the end of the speaking circle, he crossed in front of the cam and came to stand at Saba’s side. “There are many, many things you don’t know about the Jedi Order. You would be wise to keep that in mind.”
“Master Horn, I remind you that I am the Galactic Alliance Chief of State,” Daala replied coolly. “Threatening me is an act of treason.”
“Who is threatening?” Saba broke into a fit of sissing. “Chief Daala, that is too funny. We are long beyond threatening, are we not?”
The color drained from Daala’s cheeks, but that was the only sign of fear she betrayed. “Yes, Master Sebatyne, I suppose we are.”
“Good.” Saba leaned forward and stared into the cam lens, deliberately making her image as menacing as possible. “This one is glad we understand each other. Much will depend on it.”
Then Cilghal stepped into cam range. “The hostages, as you call them, will return in three days, when their sabacc tournament has come to an end.” She crossed the speaking circle and came to stand opposite Corran, so that she and Corran were flanking Saba. “Let us hope they will not find a city in ruins.”
“I agree, Master Cilghal,” Daala replied. Her white-sleeved arm rose, signaling an assistant to end the transmission. “One can always hope.”
The hologram vanished, leaving Saba and her companions to stare at the swirls of color fading on the projection pad. They remained silent for a moment, each taking the time to form his or her own impression of Daala’s words without being influenced by the others. Saba was not sure what to make of the Chief-of-State’s reaction, whether the call had simply been a ploy to find out what was happening inside the Jedi Temple, a diversion, or a last-ditch attempt to avoid an all-out battle. All she knew for certain was that Daala had been frustrated by her inability to speak to Kenth Hamner—and it seemed safe to assume that her frustration had left her somewhat off-balance.
Finally, when they had all looked up, Corran said, “That certainly went well.”
Saba cocked her head around so she could look up at him. “You are joking, yes?”
Corran shook his head. “I am joking, no. We rocked Daala back on her heels today,” he said. “We launched the StealthX wing without a fight, we recovered Valin and Jysella—”
“Your young are here now?” Saba asked.
“Not yet,” Corran said. “But they’re aboard the Cygnus-Seven and on their way.”
“On their way is not here,” Saba said. “This one will not stop worrying until they are with us.”
“Me either,” Corran said. “But they’re with the Solos. That’s the next best thing.”
“It is very good,” Cilghal agreed. “But I don’t agree that the conversation with Daala went well. She’s afraid of us now, and fear breeds danger.”
“True,” Corran replied. “But it also breeds caution, and we gave her plenty of reason to be cautious—and to think we’re ready to dish out more. Everything we’ve tried has worked. Now she has to be wondering what else we have up our sleeves.”
Saba nodded. “No one expectz the shenbit to stop biting until the prey is devoured,” she said. “Daala will want to take care, and care takes time.”
“So does politics,” Corran added. “The Errant Venture also got away clean with a hundred of Coruscant’s social elite. That’s going to put a lot of pressure on Daala to avoid a fight until after they’re scheduled to be back. If she tries to move before then, she risks losing her power base.”
“That’s true as long as everyone understands that our, um, guests on the Venture are safe,” Cilghal replied. “I suggest we ask Lando to transmit live updates of the tournament. If the public sees sabacc players playing sabacc, Daala will find it difficult to do anything that might put them in danger.”
“And it will show that they are not hostages,” Saba replied. “Perhapz we should ask Booster to offer them the option to leave?”
“Are you crazy?” Corran asked. “No one’s going to leave with a hundred million credits in play.”
“Exactly,” Cilghal said. “I like it.”
“We are in agreement, then,” Saba said. “But when the tournament endz—Daala will come for us, will she not?”
“Oh yeah,” Corran said, nodding. “One way or another, she’ll be coming. After the ruckus she made about the Jedi being a danger to the government, she can’t let us win. If she does, she’s done as Chief of State.”
“Then she is done either way,” Saba said, “because the Jedi are not going to lose this fight.”
Saba braced her hands on the chair arms and pushed herself to her feet. Her knees nearly buckled with the waves of agony that rolled through her battered body, but pain was nothing, only information that a Jedi could chose to examine or to ignore. She ignored it.
“We should ask the Solusarz to join us,” Saba said. “The Masterz—those who are available—should name a leader to guide us through the next few dayz.”
“What’s wrong?” Cilghal asked. She took Saba’s elbow, which was how one checked for a pulse on a Barabel. “Aren’t you feeling strong enough?”
“This one is strong,” Saba said, puzzled. “But she has killed another Jedi. She must present herself to judgment.”
“Judgment?” Corran asked. “By whom?”
“By the leader.” Saba curled a lip, flashing a bit of fang. “Sometimes it seemz like you have rockz in your nest, Master Horn.”
Corran’s brow rose. “Does it?” He looked to Cilghal, then asked, “I don’t know, Master Cilghal. The Masters Solusar are busy running evacuation drills. Do you think we really need to disturb them?”
Cilghal thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Under the circumstances, no. I think we all know who the temporary leader should be.”
Corran nodded. “Agreed.”
Saba waited for them to say a name—but when they merely turned to look at her, she began to have a guilty, uneasy feeling in both of her stomachs.
“No,” she said. “It is wrong. This one cannot take the place of a longtail she has killed.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” Cilghal said. “We’re going to need a warrior leading the Order, and that’s not me.”
“And I’m too filled with anger and thoughts of vengeance,” Corran said. “If I take lead against Daala, I’ll walk us all into the dark side.”
Saba shook her head stubbornly. “It isn’t right.”
“But it is necessary,” Cilghal said. “You started this, Saba. You’re the one Daala fears. You must do this—for the good of the Order.”
Saba let her muzzle drop. She had hoped to escape this burden, to avoid being elevated by her mistake. But the Force was not so forgiving. Every act was a link in the chain of consequence, and she had been a fool to think that she could avoid the taint of the decision she had made in the hangar—to think that she could allow a Jedi to drop to his death and not find herself walking the line between the dark side and the light.
“Saba, we need you to say yes,” Corran said. “We’ll sort out the rest after it’s done, when the Order is safe and the Sith are defeated—”
“When Daala is gone,” Saba finished. She pointed at the chair at the head of the circle. “This one will do this until Grand Master Skywalker is sitting in that chair again. But when he is, this one will be judged.”
Corran nodded. “Fair enough. Now, tell us how we’re going to keep this thing from turning Coruscant into a battlefield.”
Saba looked over at him. “There is only one way to do that, Master Horn,” she said. “We must remove Daala from office.”