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He almost spat the word. Yaqeel seethed, but the Quarren was right. Legally, the GA had authorization here. The fight with Jysella had taken only a couple of minutes, although it had felt like an eternity, and now she watched as several Jedi, lightsabers glowing, poured from the Temple only to halt in their tracks, as helpless as she. She turned away from the sight of their shocked expressions to watch, impotent and furious and heartsick, as one of her best friends was trussed up and bustled quickly into a vehicle.

The door slammed shut.

Stang.

Accepting, if not liking, the fact that she could do nothing for Jysella now, Yaqeel turned and trotted back to Barv. Some of the other Jedi had already reached him, and Cilghal herself had put a flippered hand on the Ramoan’s shoulder and was gently guiding him back to the Temple. No one was going to stop this particular Jedi from receiving Jedi medical aid.

Barv allowed that he had certainly felt better, but had complete confidence in Cilghal’s abilities to heal him—and, eventually, to heal Valin and Jysella.

Cilghal caught Yaqeel’s attention and sighed. “I saw it happen, right before my eyes,” she said quietly. “We’ll be debriefing both you and Bazel here. Come back with me to the Temple. We’ll take care of Bazel, and then we will talk.”

Yaqeel nodded miserably. Her ears twitched at a sound and she turned to see a multipassenger speeder, distinctively marked with the seal of the Galactic Alliance, pull up right beside the cluster of officials.

“Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse,” she growled.

TEMPLE DISTRICT, CORUSCANT

THE SPEEDER DOOR SLID OPEN, AND AN ATTRACTIVE OLDER HUMAN female stepped out. Her crisp white admiral’s uniform molded to a figure that was still fit and toned. Green eyes took in the situation at once, keen as lasers in a face framed by copper-colored hair only beginning to gray, and as Admiral Natasi Daala, Galactic Alliance Chief of State, moved assuredly forward, Yaqeel’s heart sank.

A 3PO protocol droid followed her and addressed the crowd that was beginning to quiet down now at the presence of GA Security. All were curious as to what their Chief of State had to say about this event. Yaqeel glanced over the crowd and frowned as she saw the reporter holding a small cam and speaking intently into it, then directing it toward Daala. She had hoped that the coverage of the event would have stopped with the destruction of the cam droid, but apparently the journalist had a backup.

“Your attention please, good citizens,” said the protocol droid in its pleasant, crisp voice. “Chief of State Daala has a few words to address to you.”

The crowd murmured expectantly, then fell silent. The Jedi supporting Barv stayed where they were.

“This should be good,” Yaqeel muttered sarcastically. Cilghal silenced her with a pointed glare from a single eye.

Daala waited until her staff had set up a makeshift podium, complete with a microphone, then stepped forward. She did not speak immediately, only regarded the crowd intently.

“A short while ago, Valin Horn, Jedi Knight, appeared to go insane,” Daala said without preamble. Her voice was slightly husky, but pleasant to the ear. Still, Yaqeel winced at the choice of words. Daala obviously was not going to pull any punches.

“He claimed not to recognize his own parents. He claimed they were doppelgängers—identical replacements of people he had known and loved all his life.” Daala paused to let the ludicrousness of the notion sink in to the now avidly listening throng. “And in escaping these evil duplicates, he caused a great deal of property damage and physical harm as he attempted to elude capture. Fortunately—and with little thanks to the Jedi Order, who consistently stood in our way—the GA was able to obtain custody of Valin Horn. Deemed criminally insane, he is now safely imprisoned in carbonite, unable to harm anyone further.”

Daala paused to take a sip of water. Yaqeel was willing to bet she wasn’t really thirsty, just making