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Corran remained seated and spoke in a deliberately soft tone. “At the moment, Grand Master Hamner, I couldn’t care less what you like.” Bracing his palms on his knees, he leaned forward and studied Kenth with eyes so cold they seemed dead. “What I do care about is this: my children have been frozen in carbonite for months, and Daala no longer has any reasonable excuse to hold them. Both Valin and Jysella are Jedi Knights, and if you’re unwilling to stage a raid to extract them, I’d like to know how you intend to get them back.”

“Ah.” Kenth sank back into his seat, feeling as uncertain of himself as he did embarrassed. It was a bad sign when a leader’s stress began to make him defensive and paranoid, and he knew he should be relying on someone else to help him keep his perspective. But with Bwua’tu in a coma, where could he turn? It looked as though only Barratk’l supported him, and considering the situation, it would be unfair to undermine her standing on the Council by using her as his confidante. “My apologies, Master Horn. I thought you were asking something else.”

“Clearly,” Cilghal replied in her gurgling voice. “But the question Master Horn did ask is a good one. If you are reluctant to stage a raid, how do you propose to recover our Jedi Knights?”

“And don’t even think about saying we’re going to leave them there until we sort this out,” Kyp added. “The Order can’t allow anyone to hold our people hostage to our cooperation. We’d have every two-chit crime lord in the galaxy trying to hang his own personal Jedi in carbonite.”

Seeing by the faces of the other Masters that his only choice was to agree or watch his fellows plan a disastrous raid, he steepled his fingers and nodded.

“We’re going to recover Valin and Jysella very soon, I promise you,” he said. “But I’d like to do it without starting an all-out war with Chief Daala.”

“I don’t see how that will be possible.” It was Kyle Katarn who said this, and—coming as it did from one of the Council’s most careful and deliberate thinkers—it was a statement that hit like a punch to the gut. “Natasi Daala is a woman of her convictions, and it’s her conviction that the Jedi must be reined in. Unless you intend to allow that …”

Katarn paused and tilted his head in inquiry.

When Kenth responded with only a quick headshake, Katarn continued, “… then it will be necessary to confront her.” He turned and ran his gaze around the circle of Masters. “The only thing we don’t know is how soon.”

Kenth could have kicked Katarn. Instead he turned to the other Masters and spoke in a deliberately calm voice.

“What Master Katarn says may be true. But don’t we owe it to the Order, the Alliance, and the citizens of Coruscant to at least try to avoid war?” He looked to the two Masters likely to be most concerned about an outbreak of violence, Kam and Tionne Solusar. “We have only just forced Daala to lift the siege. Remember, she may believe that we were the ones behind the assassination attempt on Admiral Bwua’tu. Let’s give her a little time to discover the truth and realize she’s still standing on the brink of a very nasty fight. Let’s see if we can’t make her blink, shall we?”

When the entreaty was met with silence rather than objections, Kenth realized he had a bought a few precious days for Bwua’tu to recover. He breathed a silent sigh of relief and steeled himself to take up the next item on the agenda—the StealthX strike force they had been trying to launch to reinforce Luke.

And that, of course, was the moment when the door opened and Han and Leia Solo marched into the Chamber.

“No wonder she wants hostages!” Han said, already striding toward the HoloNet control console. “You’re not gonna believe this!”

Kenth scowled at Leia. “Jedi Solo, haven’t I asked you and your husband not to barge into Council meetings? Repeatedly?”

“The Masters need to see this,” Leia replied, not even bothering to pretend she was apologetic. “There’s a freedom march on Blaudu Sextus.”

“Where?” Kenth had never even heard of the planet,