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“What’s in there that he wanted so badly, anyway?” Tahiri asked.

Jag smiled. “Something to make a family very happy” was all he said.

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

“HOW UTTERLY SATISFYING,” GRAND LORD VOL SAID. “SOON OUR domination of this world will be compete—and from here, nothing is barred to us.”

He and High Lord Ivaar Workan walked along the Great Hall of the Jedi Temple.

“I had hoped to have a map of the Temple complete upon your arrival,” Workan said, “but we ran into a few difficulties.”

“It seems you have run into several,” said Lord Vol. Slightly stooped with age, he came only to Workan’s shoulder. “But no doubt now that I am here, everything will get straightened out. You had quite the task ahead of you. Perhaps I should have come at the beginning of our infiltration.”

The full, imposing, ancient beauty of the Temple had pleased Grand Lord Vol. Vol had to admit that he was glad they could occupy this ancient site of Jedi strength rather than being forced to destroy it. He thought bitterly of Tahv, the exquisite City of Glass, which now lay in melted ruins, and he regretted how harshly he had spoken with Workan before arriving on Coruscant. It was indeed a mammoth task Workan had been set, and all things considered he had done a good job.

“No, my lord,” said Workan, uncertain if the comment was a peace offering. “You always choose wisely. Despite the setbacks”—he spread his arms—“here we are, in the very heart of the Jedi Temple. Soon our domination of this world will be complete. And from here, nothing is barred to us.” He hesitated. “My lord, what is the word from Kesh? How fares our home?”

“Tahv has been abandoned,” Vol said solemnly. “Too little remained to safely continue inhabiting there. We have not lost faith in you and this endeavor, though. And it seems that faith was justified. From the ashes of a blasted city, here I stand, victory a few hours away. In attempting to crush us, Abeloth has only made us stronger. She has delivered this place into our hands while she scuttles furtively about the galaxy, no doubt tackling worlds unable to offer true resistance to salve her ego while we grow strong.”

He turned to the younger man and placed a hand on his shoulders. “High Lord Workan, you have done exceptionally well here. I will remember your fidelity and efforts.”

Workan bowed deeply, his worries clearly assuaged. “I am honored. All is done for the glory of the Lost Tribe, for the Sith, and for you.”

And Vol thought he actually believed that. He had chosen well in promoting this human, despite the “setbacks.”

“Tell me everything about Rokari Kem,” he said, as they walked.

So Workan did. He spoke of her history, her struggle to win freedom for the Jessar, her persona of a loving, gentle woman who desired no power for herself. “And yet, she is nothing like that,” he finished. “She is ambitious, and arrogant, and greedy.”

“Have you determined if she knows who we are?”

“No,” Workan said. “But I have watched as she sways more and more of our allies by the day. My lord, I say to you truly—she is all that stands in our way. Once she is eliminated, we can openly claim this world, if you so deem. Let the galaxy know that the Sith—the true Sith—have awoken from their slumber and are poised to rule this galaxy, as is our rightful destiny.”

“Perhaps,” mused Vol. “Although there is strength in secrecy, as well. You have not tipped your hand?”

“No, my lord,” Workan assured him. “No one, except perhaps Roki Kem, suspects a thing. Not even our imprisoned Jedi.”

Vol eyed him, frowning slightly. This was the trouble with the young, he had found: their arrogance and enthusiasm sometimes were their undoing. Vol had lived long enough to appreciate patience.

“It is no ordinary Jedi you hold,” he reminded Workan. “It is Princess Leia Organa Solo, who once helped topple an Empire.”

Workan smirked. “She is sulking in a prison cell, my lord. There are no other Jedi here to rescue her. Even her husband has