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“I keep my gaze fixed on the light, Padawan. But to answer your question: Thought and action are very different things.”

“But how can we be certain our thoughts don’t color our actions? The path we walk is at times so narrow.”

Qui-Gon put the Hawk-Bat on autopilot and swung to face his apprentice. “Shall I tell you how Yoda explained it to me when I was even younger than you are?”

“Yes, Master.”

Qui-Gon gazed out the viewport while he spoke. “On distant Generis stands an especially dark, dense, and near impenetrable growth of sallap trees. For many generations it was necessary to travel a long distance around the forest to reach the glorious deep-water lake on the far side. But then a Sith Lord thought to blaze a trail directly through the trees, in the hope of providing a quicker route to the lake.

“As you might imagine, only a few have taken both routes and lived to tell of their experiences. But all agree that while the path through that dark wood is shorter, it actually fails to arrive at the lake. Whereas the path that skirts the forest, though long and arduous, not only arrives at the shore, but is, in itself, a destination.”

Without glancing at Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon asked, “On Asmeru, did you venture into that dark wood, or did you remain in the light, with the Force as your companion and ally?”

“I had no destination in mind, other than to follow where the Force led me.”

“Then you have the answer.”

Obi-Wan swung to face the starfield. “The Sith were before Master Yoda’s time, were they not, Master?”

Qui-Gon came close to smiling. “Nothing was before Yoda’s time, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan turned to glance toward the gunship’s forward cabin. “Master, about Cindar—”

“No, I don’t trust him at all.”

“Then why have we come to Karfeddion?”

“We have to begin somewhere, Obi-Wan. In time, even Cindar’s lies will betray his true intentions.”

“In time for us to prevent Captain Cohl from doing whatever Havac has tasked him to do?”

“That, I can’t say, Padawan.”

Just then, Cindar wandered forward, his gaze falling on the discarded Jedi robes and lightsabers.

“Won’t you feel naked without them?”

Obi-Wan swung away from the console to face him. “We want to be certain to give the wrong impression.”

“That’s good planning,” the Nikto said. “Especially since I’m new to Karfeddion myself, and haven’t an idea where to begin looking for Cohl or Havac.”

Qui-Gon glanced at him. “Don’t concern yourself about that. I suspect we’ve already made a beginning.”

With the gunship grounded in the docking bay, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Cindar descended the boarding ramp and set out to make inquiries at some of the disreputable cantinas and tapcafs that surrounded the spaceport. They weren’t twenty meters from the ship when a pair of maintenance technicians intercepted them at the exit to the street.

“Hawk-Bat, right?” the taller of the two said to Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon looked the man in the eye. “Who’s asking?”

“No offense, Captain,” the other said, showing his grease-stained hands in a mollifying gesture. “We just wanted to tell you that you just missed him.”

Obi-Wan started to say something, but thought better of it.

“We just missed him?”

“Launched a couple of hours back,” the tall one replied, “with a full complement of crew in a beat-up Corellian freighter.”

“Oh, that ship,” Qui-Gon said.

The shorter tech adopted a conspiratorial look. “Are you three part of this Eriadu business?”

“What do you think?” Qui-Gon said rhetorically.

The two techs traded meaningful glances. “You wouldn’t by chance need a couple of spare hands, would you, Captain?” the taller one asked.

Qui-Gon pretended to assess them. “I’ve no need for technicians. What are your other talents?”

“Same as the ones Cohl was flying with, Captain,” the tall one said with increasing assurance. “Light and heavy arms, melee weapons, explosives, you name it.”

“Small wars and revolutions,” the other enthused.

Qui-Gon nodded. “I’ll pass the word along to Captain Cohl.”

The taller one nudged his partner in anticipation. “Much