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“Well, I can’t,” Corran said. He rose and straightened his robes. “I’m sorry, Grand Master Hamner, but I think you’re just stalling.”

Saba rose as well. “This one, too,” she said. “The time has come to launch. There are Sith out there, and Master Skywalker needz our help.”

“And what do you think is going to happen when you go?” Kenth demanded. “The entire Sixth Fleet is waiting in orbit, and they will fire on you, I promise.”

“We will elude them,” Saba said simply.

“And when the Mandalorians return to storm the Temple?”

“We will kill them, as we did before,” Saba replied. “The time for restraint has passed. There are beingz out there more fearsome than Mandalorianz, and if we do not act soon, they will be the ones ruling Coruscant.”

Saba turned away, signaling that the debate was over, and started for the door. When the other Masters followed, Kenth knew his gamble had backfired. They were tired of waiting, of sitting on their hands while Luke and Ben and Jaina confronted a whole tribe of Sith, and no amount of reason was going to stop them—even if he broke his word to Bwua’tu and revealed what the GA military had in store for them.

So Kenth placed his hand on his lightsaber and stood. “No!”

Saba stopped at his sharp tone and turned to face him. “Please, Master Hamner, do not make this harder than it needz to be.”

“And don’t think you can do it any other way.” Kenth started toward her, still gripping his lightsaber, and continued, “I was placed in this office by Grand Master Skywalker, and if you want to remove me, you won’t do it by ignoring me. You’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

Saba’s gaze dropped to his weapon hand. Her tongue flicked between her lips, and Kenth knew then that he had found her limit. She wasn’t prepared to fight another Jedi for control of the Order—not when there were so many other things for the Jedi to fight.

Trying to press his advantage and settle the issue once and for all, Kenth stepped closer, looking from Saba to the others. “Is there anyone here willing to take it that far?”

That was when the Masters surprised him again. Instead of averting their eyes or attempting to stare him down, they turned almost as one toward Corran Horn, and it grew obvious to Kenth that he was the one who had pushed matters too far, that his life and the future of the entire Jedi Order depended on what kind of man Corran Horn really was.

Corran stood lost in thought, his gaze so distant and sad and vacant that Kenth was not sure he even understood what was being asked of him. The other Masters remained silent, and it took all of Kenth’s willpower to do the same. He wanted to grab Corran by the shoulders and shake him, hard, and demand that he stand for the Alliance and restraint and political process. Instead he stood silent with the other Masters, awaiting the verdict of a man whose children Kenth had allowed to remain frozen in carbonite for months.

After a time, Corran’s eyes seemed to focus again, and he looked up and met Kenth’s gaze. “No, we’re not ready for that.” He shook his head and started for the door again. “Not yet.”

ERAMUTH HAD FALLEN ASLEEP.

Or so it appeared to Leia. She couldn’t check his aura to be certain because Force-use was forbidden inside the Ninth Hall of Justice, and she did not want to prejudice the jury by getting caught violating the rule. But a day after the siege of the Temple had ended, she and Han had a made a point of arriving early to snag seats behind the defense table, and now they were seated in the first row, a little to one side where they could see Eramuth in profile.

The dapper Bothan was slumped down in his chair, with his hands folded across his vest-covered belly and his chin resting on his chest. His breathing was deep and steady, his eyes were closed, and his long ears were twitching in response to a breeze blowing only through his dreams. If the old fellow hadn’t fallen asleep, he had been bored into a coma by Sul Dekkon’s slow and methodical examination of the prosecution’s latest surprise witness, an Imperial Intelligence