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“Captain Cohl.”

Cohl didn’t stop until the stranger repeated the call, then he maneuvered himself through a resigned turn. Ten meters down the corridor stood a tall, long-haired, and bearded Jedi, displaying a green-bladed lightsaber.

“This just isn’t our day,” Boiny muttered.

Cohl heard the characteristic snap and hiss of another lightsaber and glanced over his shoulder. The second Jedi was a clean-shaven young man, wearing the thin braid of a Padawan.

“We’ve been looking forward to meeting you since Dorvalla,” the older one said.

Cohl and Boiny swapped looks of surprised dismay.

“You were the ones in the diplomatic Lancet,” Cohl said.

“You led us a merry chase, Captain.”

Cohl snorted and shook his head. “Well, you found us now. And you can put your glow sticks away. We’re unarmed.”

Qui-Gon merely pointed the lightsaber toward the floor as he approached. “I congratulate you on surviving the destruction of the Revenue.”

Cohl sagged on his crutches. “A lot of good it did me, Jedi. My partner and I are shot to pieces.”

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan regarded them through the Force, and understood that Cohl wasn’t lying. Both he and the Rodian were seriously injured.

“How did you find out about the Dorvalla operation, anyway?” Cohl asked.

“A member of the Nebula Front,” Qui-Gon said. “Now dead.”

“So there was an informant. I guess Havac was right to have been secretive about this one.”

“We’re eager to meet Havac, as well,” Obi-Wan said.

Cohl looked at him. “You’d do better to destroy the droid Havac infiltrated into the summit.”

“Droid?” the Jedi said in unison.

“A battle droid,” Cohl elaborated. “It’s right up there with the rest of the directorate’s droids. We figure Havac plans to have the droid kill Valorum.”

“That’s impossible,” Qui-Gon said. “Battle droids can’t act without a cue from a central control computer.”

“Havac’s is one of Baktoid’s new and improved models,” Boiny said. “A commander. More of a freethinker. It only needs to be tasked, by voice command or remote signal, and it’s capable of swaying the droids around it.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped slightly. “Are you saying that instead of one assassin, there are a potential dozen?”

“Thirteen, actually,” Boiny replied.

“It still can’t initiate an act like that on its own,” Qui-Gon insisted.

“That’s where Havac comes in. He’s the one with the remote.”

Qui-Gon stepped toward Cohl. “Where is he?”

“I have some idea.”

“Tell me what you know, and let me handle this. Obi-Wan will escort you and your partner to medical attention—and into custody.”

Cohl shook his head. “If you want Havac, we go together, Jedi, or not at all.” He canted his head to Boiny. “Besides, we’re the only ones who can identify him.”

Qui-Gon didn’t even have to think about it. He glanced at Obi-Wan. “Padawan, report back to Master Tiin and the others. Quickly.”

“But, Master—”

“Go, Padawan. Now.”

Obi-Wan showed him a tight-lipped nod and spun on his boot heels.

Qui-Gon watched his apprentice rush off, then he deactivated his lightsaber and put one arm under Cohl’s trembling shoulder.

“Lean on me, Captain.”

With ten drummers setting the tempo, twice as many horn players raised their long instruments to their mouths and trumpeted the first of the three prolonged fanfares.

By then Obi-Wan had reached Tiin and the other Jedi.

“It’s the droids,” he began in a sally of words.

Tiin had him slow down and repeat everything he and Qui-Gon had learned from Cohl. Then the Iktotchi turned to Adi, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Vergere, and the rest.

“Position yourselves as close to Valorum as possible,” he instructed Adi and Vergere. “Obi-Wan, Ki, and I will be near the Trade Federation rostrum. The rest of you, disperse to deflect blasterfire. Be unassuming but prepared.”

“Master Tiin, do you think the Trade Federation suspects what’s in their midst?” Obi-Wan asked as they set out across the floor of the hall.

“They couldn’t. They are aggressive only when it comes to commerce. However this Havac infiltrated the droid among the others, it had to have been done without the knowledge of the directorate