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The sudden silence was broken only by the crackling of the fire. Jade Shadow’s, escort since leaving the Remnant, the Imperial frigate had been commanded by Captain Arien Yage, whom the Jedi had come to regard as a close friend rather than a mere comrade in arms.

“There’s more bad news,” Jacen said finally. “Some of the Ferroans are holding us accountable for what happened.”

Mara compressed her lips in anger. “Luke warned Sekot that the Yuuzhan Vong might return.”

Luke shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure the Ferroans are thinking that if it took only three Yuuzhan Vong to reopen wounds fifty years old, nothing less than annihilation can come of Sekot’s pledge to enlist in the war against them.”

“That iz precisely what the Ferroanz are thinking,” Saba said, showing her sharp teeth.

Jacen sighed. “Darak told me that, in the past, visitors could remain on Zonama Sekot for only sixty days, and that our time is up.”

Luke studied his hands and shook his head back and forth. “All those weeks of persuading Sekot and the Ferroans of the rightness of their participation—undone in an instant …” He looked up at Jacen and Saba. “Has anyone seen Jabitha?”

“Not since the day Zonama caught fire,” Saba replied.

Sekot’s humanoid interface with its sentient residents, Jabitha was Zonama’s current Magister, the third in the planet’s history. During her brief appearance following the planet’s emergence from hyperspace, Jabitha had said only that Sekot had desperate need of her elsewhere, and that she would return when she could. Present at the appearance, Luke and the other Jedi had quickly discerned that the Jabitha who spoke to them was merely a thought projection of Sekot. That fact had been borne out later, when Jabitha’s entranced body had been discovered in her dwelling place.

“We’ll just have to go back to the beginning,” Mara said in a determined way.

Luke looked at her. “We won’t know until we speak to Sekot.”

In front of the hearth an apparition appeared, gradually manifesting as a tall, wide-eyed, dark-haired, and faintly blue-skinned woman, wearing a black robe decorated with green medallions that sparkled in the light of the fire.

“Jabitha,” Luke said, coming to his feet.

“Of a sort,” Mara said quietly as she joined him.

“Sekot wishes to reassure you that Zonama will persevere,” the thought-projected Jabitha said without preamble. “Since perseverance will necessitate significant alterations to Zonama’s present orbit and spin, it would be best if everyone remained in the shelters for the time being.”

Luke drew in his breath, only to sense that his relief was premature.

“I am also charged with advising you that Sekot needs time to reassess the possible consequences of returning Zonama to known space. As caretaker of the Living Force—as defined by the Potentium—the continued existence of Zonama Sekot is of utmost importance.”

Luke and Mara traded looks of disappointment. Founded in the pre-Palpatine Republic by would-be Jedi, the order known as the Potentium professed belief in a Force that was not divisible into light and dark. Birthed from Zonama by the founders, and under their tutelage as it evolved from egolessness to full self-awareness, Sekot had come to accept the tenets of the Potentium as fact.

Luke hung his head momentarily. Back to the beginning, just as Mara had said—and perhaps worse. Sekot was turning away from involvement in the war. Sekot preferred the sanctuary provided by a gas giant like Mobus over open space and exposure to whatever harm might find the planet.

“Sekot has some idea where we are,” Jabitha was saying. “It’s possible that Zonama Sekot passed close to this star system during the Crossings from known space.”

Luke motioned across the room to R2-D2, who was standing silently against the wall. “Tell Sekot that Artoo can help compute the location—as soon as we can see the stars.”

The astromech droid tootled in reinforcement.

“I will tell Sekot,” Jabitha said, dematerializing.

Mara sat down next to Luke. “That was Jabitha’s