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The wood, prepared for this purpose, caught quickly. Flames raced around the base of the bier and swiftly climbed toward the shrouded body.

Izal withdrew to stand with Hamner’s family, and smoke that had once been living wood and living flesh climbed into the Coruscant sky.

HWEG SHUL, NAM CHORIOS

Father:

I hope that you are much recovered.

Abeloth is on Nam Chorios, operating under the identity of Nenn, a Master of the Theran Listeners. Evidence suggests that she has taken refuge in an underground water pumping station somewhere on the planet, but there is insufficient information at this time to indicate which.

With affection, I remain

Your daughter, Vestara

Writing that letter, compared with the previous few, seemed almost effortless to Vestara. There were no lies in it, no requirements that she project herself into a different mind-set, a different way of thinking.

Why, then, was it so hard to send the thing?

In Sel’s little office, Vestara had had no problem slicing into Sel’s accounts, purchasing a hypercomm transmission of one small text message, encrypting it, setting up the routing on that message so it would find its way to her father’s task force without alerting GA authorities to its path or its origin. But now, with all tasks but one complete, she found herself unable to touch the button on the screen that would send the thing.

“Vestara?” It was Ben’s voice from elsewhere in Sel’s dome.

Vestara jumped, then hit the on-screen button, sending the transmission. She closed down the conduit through which she’d sent it, stood, gathered a small pile of printouts, and moved out into the little hall and the living chamber beyond.

Sel was still stretched out on her sofa. Luke, looking tired, sat on a nearby chair, Ben standing beside him. Both Skywalkers glanced toward Vestara as she entered.

She held up the printouts. “A list of all recorded water pumping stations onplanet. And composite space station holocam views of all of them over the last few days. I think I’ve done a little damage to Sel’s financial accounts to pay for this.”

“We’ll arrange for her to be repaid.” Luke held out a hand and accepted the sheaf of flimsies.

“Master Skywalker, you look weary.”

“I am. I decided not to rely on nothing but a post-hypnotic suggestion—too dangerous for us. I employed mnemotherapy instead. It was successful. Sel won’t recall us visiting her.”

Vestara looked at the sleeping woman. “Is she still under Abeloth’s influence?”

“Yes. There’s little point in freeing her when, in a matter of minutes or hours, she’ll fall under Abeloth’s sway again … especially when freeing her might tip off Abeloth as to our whereabouts.” Luke paged through the printouts, studying the composite holocam views, each of which showed, from far above, a ground site and the vehicle activity in its vicinity. Some views were of communities with heavy traffic, and the vehicle activity appeared as thick, blurry lines. Others showed abandoned sites with no activity at all. Other sites were somewhere in between.

As he perused them, he spoke, as if to himself. “Kind of like the old days, on the run from the Empire … anything we needed but didn’t have, we’d steal, do whatever we could to blame corrupt Imperial quartermasters or criminal groups like the Black Sun … younger then, didn’t get so tired so fast …”

Ben glanced up to catch Vestara’s eye. He appeared worried. And no wonder: his father, still carrying an injury from the last fight with the Sith, seemed just a little diminished by all his recent labors.

Luke sighed, set the flimsies on his lap, and looked up. “Next step, we get some rest; then tonight we steal a landspeeder or airspeeder.”

Vestara nodded. “Yes, Master Skywalker.”

“From a Theran Listener if possible, or an Oldtimer otherwise. Reduce their resources, enhance ours.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ben, please take first watch.”

CORUSCANT

The judge, a Mon Calamari male with skin color closer to black than red, more imposing than many jurists because of