THREE

The Yuuzhan Vong’s attempt to reshape Coruscant into the image of their lost homeworld had brought many good things to the planet, and fresh y’luubi was one of the best. Taken from Liberation Lake no more than three hours before smoldering, it had a rich, smoky flavor that filled Mara’s entire head with pleasure. She held the spongy meat on her tongue, allowing it to dissolve as she had heard was proper, and marveled at the succession of spectacular tastes. The flavor went from smoky to sweet to tangy, then ended with a sharp, spicy bite that made her mouth water for more.

“The y’luubi are unbelievably wonderful, Madame Thul,” Mara said, addressing their host. She and Luke had barely been back on Coruscant for a week before Madame Thul arrived aboard the Tradewyn and sent a message to the Jedi Temple inviting them to dine with her.

“The whole meal is,” Luke added. “Thank you again for insisting that we meet here.”

Aryn Thul—Raynar Thul’s mother and the chairwoman of the board of Bornaryn Trading—smiled politely. “I’m so pleased you’re enjoying it.” A gaunt, almost frail woman with gray hair and durasteel eyes, she carried herself with a dignity and grace appropriate to the shimmersilk gown and Corusca gem necklace she had chosen for their “casual” dinner. “I was told Yuza Bre is the finest restaurant on Coruscant.”

“By all accounts,” Mara said. “I understand reservations are usually required months in advance. I can’t imagine why it’s deserted tonight.”

“You can’t?” Tyko Thul asked. A large, round-faced man with short graying hair and hazel eyes, he was the brother of Madame Thul’s late husband—and the chief operating officer of Bornaryn Trading. He turned to Madame Thul and shared an arrogant smile. “It appears the Jedi are not quite as all-knowing as we are led to believe.”

“We shouldn’t judge that on the basis of a restaurant, Tyko. I doubt corporate acquisitions are very high on their list of concerns.” Madame Thul turned to Mara. “As of this morning, the Yuza Bre is a Bornaryn property. Buying it was the only way to guarantee our visit would remain private.”

“Buying a restaurant was hardly necessary, Madame Thul,” Luke said in a guarded tone. “If there’s something you need to discuss in private, I would have been happy to meet you aboard the Tradewyn.”

Given the argument among the Masters over whether to eliminate Raynar, both Mara and Luke had found the timing of Madame Thul’s dinner invitation suspicious. But Luke had been a friend of the Thuls since Raynar attended the Jedi academy on Yavin 4, and Mara had convinced him that if Madame Thul knew about the argument, declining the invitation would be viewed as evidence that he agreed with those who felt the only way to resolve the Killik crisis was to kill her son.

Madame Thul frowned. “Luke, we have been friends since before Bornan died.” Her tone remained nonchalant, but Mara could sense her anger—and her fear—in the Force. “Surely, you know me well enough to realize that if I wish to discuss something with you, I will.”

“Does that mean you don’t wish to discuss anything?” Luke asked.

“It means that you aren’t the primary reason I bought Yuza Bre.” Madame Thul allowed herself a guilty smile. “This happens to be Chief Omas’s favorite restaurant. As you can imagine, from now on, he is going to find it difficult to make reservations.”

“That seems rather petty,” Mara said. Madame Thul struck her as a woman who appreciated frankness, so she spoke bluntly. “And it’s hardly likely to sway his attitude regarding the Colony.”

Madame Thul shrugged, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “I have been trying to be heard on this for months, but that Jenet assistant of his refuses to schedule an appointment. This seems as good a way as any to make my displeasure known.”

“I’m sure it will accomplish that,” Mara said. “But if feeding y’luubi to the Skywalker family is how you show displeasure with the Jedi, I’m sorry to inform you it isn’t working.”

She smiled, expecting Madame Thul to do likewise and utter at least a polite little laugh. Instead, the chairwoman fixed her with a steely-eyed glare.

“I really don’t understand, Mara.” She turned to Luke. “Is there some reason I should be displeased with the Jedi?”

“That isn’t for us to say,” Luke answered. “You’re certainly aware of the Jedi’s role in the recent trouble between the Colony and the Alliance.”

“Of course,” Madame Thul said. “You were crucial in keeping the nest ships trapped inside the Utegetu Nebula.”

“So the answer to your question depends on you, Chairwoman Thul,” Mara said. “Where do your loyalties lie?”

It was Tyko Thul who answered. “Our loyalties lie where they always have—with Bornaryn Trading. We have outlasted three galactic governments…and we’ll outlast this one.”

“What about family?” Luke asked, addressing the question to Madame Thul. “I’m sure your loyalties also extend to Raynar.”

“Our interests in the Colony are very important to us, yes.” Madame Thul’s voice grew icy. “Obviously, Bornaryn will do whatever we must to protect them—and at the moment, we are well positioned to be extremely effective.”

“For example, Bornaryn has diversified into exotic starship fuels,” Tyko added. “Just yesterday, we acquired Xtib.”

A tense silence fell over the table. Xtib was the processing company that produced TibannaX, the special Tibanna isotope used in StealthX engines to conceal their ion tails.

After a moment, Mara raised her eyes and locked gazes with Tyko. “I hope you don’t intend that as a threat, Chief Thul. We’re a little short on patience these days.”

“Is there a reason Bornaryn would need to threaten the Jedi?” Tyko asked, refusing to be intimidated.

“You’re obviously aware of our discussions regarding Raynar,” Luke said, rising. “Rest assured that the Jedi would never take such an action lightly, but we will do what we must to bring this war to a swift end.”

“Thank you for your frankness, Master Skywalker.” Some of the stateliness seemed to drain from Madame Thul’s bearing, and she motioned for him to return to his chair. “I don’t know why, but I do take some small comfort from the reluctance in your voice. Please stay and finish your dinner.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible,” Luke said.

“But we would like to know how you came by your information,” Mara added, also rising. Her stomach was knotting in anger, though not because of any threat Bornaryn Trading might pose to the Jedi’s TibannaX supplies. Someone—almost certainly a Jedi—had betrayed the confidence of Luke and the order. “Who told you?”

Madame Thul lifted her brow. “You truly expect me to reveal that?”

“You really don’t have a choice,” Mara said.

“This is outrageous!” Tyko snapped.

He started to rise, but Mara flicked a finger in his direction, and he dropped back into his chair, paralyzed by her Force grasp. Gundar, the thick-necked bodyguard who had been doubling as their waiter, reached for his blaster and started to leave his station near the kitchen.

Luke wagged a finger at the hulking human, then used the Force to pin him against a wall and looked to Madame Thul.

“I take security breaches very seriously,” he said. “Don’t make me use the Force on you.”

Madame Thul sighed, then looked away. “You mustn’t be too hard on them,” she said. “They were convinced they were doing the right thing.”

“They always are,” Mara said. “Who was it?”

“The Barabel and his Wookiee,” Madame Thul said. “Tesar and…Lowbacca it was, I believe.”

Mara could sense Madame Thul’s truthfulness in the Force, but she still found it difficult to believe—if only because it proved just how deeply divided the order remained even after Luke’s gambit.

“It makes sense.” Luke sounded as defeated as Mara was shocked. “I had just hoped for better.”

“If you are disappointed, perhaps you should look to yourself for the reason,” Madame Thul suggested. “Tesar and the Wookiee have good hearts, Master Skywalker. They would not betray your confidence unless they believed they had no other choice.”

“Or unless they were under the Colony’s control,” Mara said. She turned toward the restaurant’s transparisteel wall and looked across the green glow of Victory Square, toward the golden sheen of the Jedi Temple’s giant pyramid. “They were back among the Killiks for more than a month.”

Luke’s concern—or perhaps it was sorrow—permeated the Force-bond Mara shared with him, but he retained a neutral expression as he spoke to Madame Thul.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said. “The y’luubi was beyond description. I’m sure the Yuza Bre will continue to prosper under Bornaryn’s ownership.”

“You really must leave?” Madame Thul asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Luke said. “Until the troubles with the Colony are resolved, it’s probably better for Bornaryn Trading and the Jedi to keep their distance.”

Madame Thul nodded. “I understand. But before you go, I hope you’ll allow me to make one gift to you—friend to friend.”

Tyko’s eyes widened. “Aryn, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We might still have a use—”

“I doubt it.” Madame Thul scowled at her brother-in-law. “It’s obvious that we’re not going to sway Master Skywalker with a droid, so we may as well give it to him.”

Mara frowned. “A droid?”

Madame Thul smiled. “You’ll see.” She turned to her bodyguard. “Gundar, you can bring in ArOh now.”

Gundar activated a remote, and a terrible squealing arose in the kitchen. A moment later, an ancient R series astromech droid lurched into view, its locomotion system so corrupted and corroded that it resembled an ancient sailing ship zigzagging into a headwind. Someone had recently made an effort to polish its brass casing, but the tarnish along the crevices and seams was so thick, it looked like paint.

“An antique droid?” Mara asked.

“A very special antique.” Madame Thul waited until the droid had wandered within arm’s length of the table, then reached out and gently guided it to her side. “Master Skywalker, allow me to present Artoo-Oh, the original prototype for the R-two astromech line.”

Luke’s jaw fell. “The prototype?”

“So my systems supervisor assures me,” Madame Thul said. “I’m told it contains the original Intellex Four droid brain. I hope it will prove helpful in working through Artoo-Detoo’s memory problems.”

“I’m sure it will!” Mara gasped. “Where did it come from?”

“An abandoned warehouse, apparently,” Madame Thul said. “It was owned by Industrial Automaton, which Bornaryn recently purchased. Of course, their records were almost completely useless in locating the prototype.”

“Industrial Automaton?” Mara asked. “Ghent said the Artoo was an Imperial design.”

“Misinformation,” Tyko said. “Imperial Intelligence waged a deliberate campaign to obscure the origin of all the Empire’s vital military technology.”

“Then the designer of the Intellex IV droid brain wasn’t an Imperial?” Luke asked.

“Not when he worked on the R-series.” Tyko shrugged. “Who can say what happened later? He might have become one, or he might have been forced into their service. All our historians could determine was that his identity has been deleted from all known databases regarding the R-series.”

“But you have the prototype,” Madame Thul said. “I hope you can find what you need there.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Luke said. “Thank you!”

“ ‘Thank you’ will be quite sufficient,” Madame Thul said. “Every man should know his mother.”

“I’m sure it will be very helpful,” Mara said. “But what made you think of it? Artoo’s memory problems aren’t exactly common knowledge outside of the Jedi order.”

Madame Thul smiled. “Tesar and the Wookiee,” she said. “I told you—they have good hearts.”