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stormtrooper guards and Commander Kratas. "Take the captain and his droid

  back

  to his ship," Daala said, then cocked her head down to stare at the

  Sullustan.

  "Our crew is already emptying your cargo holds, but General Odosk has set

  his

  men to repairing and bypassing the damaged engine. Enough that you could

  limp

  to another system."

  The Sullustan bowed, speaking nonstop in his rodent-like language. The

  female droid stood at attention and spoke in an astonished voice. "Why thank

  you, Admiral. That is most respectful of you. We appreciate your

  hospitality."

  The stormtroopers took them away, clomping down the sterile halls of the

  Star Destroyer. The doors sealed shut again, leaving Daala alone with

  Commander Kratas. He turned to her with wide dark eyes below his beetling

  brows. "Admiral, have we lowered ourselves to the level of space pirates?

  Attacking transport ships and stealing supplies?"

  Daala removed a datapad from her hip and punched a button to call up her

  latest readout. She turned it toward him so he could look at the

  information.

  "I appreciate your respect for the honor of the Imperial Navy, Commander.

  However, before I came to see the captives, I received a report regarding

  the

  contents of the Corvette's cargo hold. There are indeed supplies for a new

  colony, but we also found heavy weaponry, communications gear, and

  prefabricated equipment for starfighter hangars."

  She gestured toward the door. "Back to the bridge. I want to see what

  happens next."

  "What do you mean?" Kratas said.

  Daala switched off the datapad and looked at him. "You'll see. Be patient

  for now."

  As they left, the door of the interrogation chamber slid shut, sealing

  behind it the darkness and the smell of fear trapped in the room.

  The close-up image of General Odosk flickered, but she could see the

  self-satisfied grin on his wide, swarthy face. "Mission accomplished,

  Admiral.

  "

  "Excellent, General. I trust you are at a good vantage point?"

  Odosk nodded. "I wouldn't miss it. Thank you."

  Daala turned back to the viewing window on the bridge. The wounded

  Corellian Corvette dropped out of the Gorgon's hangar bay and drifted free

  in

  space. "Back away," she told the navigator. "Order the Basilisk and the

  Manticore to do the same."

  "Yes, Admiral."

  The three Star Destroyers spread out and moved away from the much smaller

  ship. The Corvette's damaged rocket engine no longer glowed.

  Kratas shook his head. "I still can't believe you're letting him go."

  Daala intentionally spoke loud enough for the rest of bridge crew to

  hear. She rarely felt the need to explain her orders to underlings, but at

  certain times explaining her reasoning might make them respect her even

  more.

  "Ships vanish all the time, Commander," Daala said. "If we simply

  destroyed this ship, it could be written off as some accident in

  transportation. A meteor storm, a breached reactor plate, bad navigation

  through hyperspace. But if we let this captain send a message first, then

  the

  Rebel Alliance will know what we have done. We can accomplish the same task,

  but increase the terror and chaos. Do you agree?"

  Kratas nodded, but he still looked doubtful.

  The comm officer spoke up. "The transponder we implanted in his comm

  system has activated. He's sending a tight-beam transmission to specific

  coordinates."

  Daala smiled. "Good, I didn't think he'd wait until he got clear."

  The comm officer pressed an ear jack to the side of his head. "He's

  reporting the situation, Admiral. Three Star Destroyers... fired upon

  without

  warning... taken prisoner and interrogated."

  "I think that's enough," Daala said. She opened the comm channel.

  "General Odosk, proceed." She shielded her eyes.

  The thermal detonators planted against the reactor walls of the twelve

  rocket pods detonated simultaneously, blasting the inferno open and sending

  a

  tidal wave of deadly radiation through the Corellian ship. An instant later

  the raging heat evaporated the entire hull, turning it into metallic steam.

  The rocket pods blew up in brilliant sunbursts; then the rest of the ship

  expanded outward in a blinding glare.

  Daala nodded. "I think the survivors of the Hydra have had their revenge.

  "

  In stunned admiration Kratas smiled. "I believe so, Admiral."

  She turned to face the rest of her bridge crew. "We now have accurate

  maps and information on the political situation of the Rebel Alliance. We

  have

  struck our first blow--the first of many."

  Daala drew a deep breath, feeling vibrant and alive with euphoria. Grand

  Moff Tarkin would have been proud of her.

  "Our next stop will be the planet Dantooine," she said. "We have a colony

  to visit."

  Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, gathered his twelve students in the grand

  audience chamber of the Massassi temple.

  Diffuse orange light trickled through the narrow skylights. Lush vines

  climbed the stone walls, spreading out in verdant webs in the corners. Most

  of

  the flat stones were a nonreflective smoky gray; other lozenges of dark

  green

  and vermilion and ocher stone ornamented the enormous chamber.

  Luke remembered standing here as a young man after their brief victory

  celebration following the destruction of the Death Star. He smiled as he

  recalled how Princess Leia had presented medals to him and Han Solo and

  Chewbacca. Now the grand audience chamber stood empty except for Luke and

  his

  small group of Jedi candidates.

  Luke watched the students file toward him along the broad promenade.

  Wearing dark-brown Jedi robes, the candidates walked in eerie silence across

  the slick floor that had long ago been polished smooth by the mysterious

  Massassi.

  Streen and Gantoris moved first, side by side; Gantoris looked full of

  self-importance. Of all those Luke had gathered at his Jedi training center,

  Gantoris had so far shown the most progress, the most inner strength--yet

  the

  man from Eol Sha did not seem to realize that he stood at a crossroads.

  Gantoris would soon need to decide exactly how he would proceed in his

  growth

  with the Force.

  Behind the two of them came Kirana Ti, one of the young and powerful

  witches of Dathomir, who had left the other Force-wielding, rancor-riding

  women on her homeworld to learn better control. Kirana Ti and the other

  witches had been instrumental in helping him recover an ancient wrecked

  space

  station, the Chu'unthor, in which resided many records of old Jedi

  training--

  records that Luke had studied to develop exercises for his Jedi trainees.

  Beside Kirana Ti came Dorsk 81, a bald green-and yellow-skinned humanoid

  from a world where all family units were genetically identical, cloned and

  raised to carry on the status quo. But Dorsk 81, the eighty-first
r />   reincarnation of the same genetic attributes, had somehow been dramatically

  changed. Though he seemed identical in every way, his mind worked

  differently,

  his thoughts moved along different paths, and he could feel the Force

  working

  through him. With the hope of becoming a Jedi Knight, Dorsk 81 had left his

  homeworld of identical people for something new.

  Then came Kam Solusar, an older man, son of a Jedi that Vader had

  slaughtered long ago. Solusar had fled the Empire after the great Jedi purge

  and had spent decades in isolation beyond the inhabited star systems. Upon

  returning, Solusar had been captured and tortured by evil Jedi, twisted to

  the

  dark side of the Force, but Luke had bested him in the game of Lightsider.

  Solusar had received advanced training in certain areas, but because of his

  self-imposed exile, he still knew little about many aspects of the Force.

  As the rest of the candidates gathered at the raised platform, Luke

  shrugged back his hood and tried to mask his pride at seeing the group. If

  he

  successfully completed their training, these candidates would form the core

  of

  a new order of Jedi Knights, champions of the Force, to help protect the New

  Republic against dark times.

  He heard them stirring, not speaking to each other, each one no doubt

  wrapped up in thoughts of touching the Force, finding new pathways to inner

  strength and windows to the universe that only Jedi teachings could open for

  them. Their collective talent amazed him, but he hoped for even more

  trainees.

  Soon Han Solo would send his young friend, Kyp Durron; and Luke had strongly

  hinted for his former opponent Mara Jade to join them, since they had struck

  an uneasy truce during the battle against Joruus C'baoth.

  At the podium Luke tried to stand tall. He found the core of peace inside

  him that allowed him to speak with a firm voice. "I have brought you here to

  study and to learn, but I myself am still learning. Every living thing must

  continue to learn until it dies. Those who cease to learn, die that much

  sooner.

  "Perhaps it was misleading when I called this an "academy" for Jedi.

  Though I will teach you everything I know, I don't want you merely to listen

  to me lecture.

  "Your training will be a landscape of self-discovery. Learn new things

  and share what you have learned with others. I will call this place a

  praxeum.

  This word, made up of ancient roots, was first used by the Jedi scholar

  Karena, distilling the concepts of learning combined with action. Our

  praxeum,

  then, is a place for the learning of action. A Jedi is aware, but he does

  not

  waste time in mindless contemplation. When action is required, a Jedi acts."

  Luke repositioned a small translucent cube on the raised dais behind him.

  He ran his fingers over the cool surface of the ancient knowledge repository

  Leia had stolen from the resurrected Emperor. The Jedi Holocron.

  "We will invoke a past Jedi Master from the Holocron," Luke said. "We

  have used this device to learn the ways of the old Jedi Knights. Let us see

  what stories it has for us this morning."

  He activated the precious artifact. In the distant past it had been

  traditional for each Jedi Master to compile his life's knowledge and store

  it

  within a great repository such as this, which was then passed to one of his

  students. Luke had only begun to fathom its depths.

  An image formed both inside and outside the cube, a half-tangible

  projection that was more than just a stored bit of data; it was an

  interactive

  representation of the Jedi Master--a stubby alien, part insectile, part

  crustacean. It seemed to be bent with age or too much gravity. Its head

  extended into a long funnel, like a beak from which dangled whiskery

  protuberances. Close-set, glassy eyes stared like glittering pinpoints of

  knowledge.

  The creature leaned on a long wooden staff, its legs spindly and knobby

  as it swiveled its funnellike face to contemplate the new audience. Tattered

  rags covered its body, sticking out in odd directions like clothing or

  external skin. Its voice came out in a reedy melody, like high-pitched music

  played under fast running water.

  "I am Master Vodo-Siosk Baas."

  "Master Vodo," Luke said, "I am Master Skywalker, and these are my

  apprentices. You have seen many things and recorded many thoughts. We'd be

  honored if you would tell us something we should know."

  The image of Master Vodo-Siosk Baas hung his beaklike head on a jointed

  elbow of neck, as if in contemplation. Luke knew that the Holocron was

  simply

  uploading and sifting through reams of data, choosing an appropriate story

  through a personality algorithm stored with the Jedi Master's image.

  "I must tell you of the Great Sith War that occurred--was Here the image

  paused as the Holocron assessed the current situation. "Four thousand years

  before your time.

  "This war was caused by a student of mine, Exar Kun, who found forbidden

  teachings of the ancient Sith. He imitated the ways of the long-fallen Sith

  and used them to form his own philosophy of the Jedi Code, a distortion of

  all

  we know to be true and right. With this knowledge Exar Kun established a

  vast

  and powerful brotherhood and claimed the title of the first Dark Lord of the

  Sith."

  Luke stiffened. "Others have claimed that title," he said, "even to this

  time." Including Darth Vader.

  Master Vodo-Siosk Baas seemed to lean more heavily on his walking stick.

  "I had hoped Exar Kun and his kind were defeated once and for all. Exar Kun

  joined forces with another powerful Jedi and great warlord, Ulic Qel-Droma.

  Exar Kun worked his invisible threads into the fabric of the Old Republic,

  bringing downfall through treachery and his distorted abilities with the

  Force."

  Master Vodo looked at the gathered students. Gantoris seemed incredibly

  eager to hear more, leaning forward and staring with wide, dark eyes. The

  image of the long-dead Jedi Master turned to face Luke. "You must warn your

  students to beware of the temptations of conquest. That is all I can tell

  you

  for now."

  The image flickered and wavered. With a feeling of deep uneasiness Luke

  silenced the Holocron. The images returned to swirling pearlescence inside

  its

  cubical walls.

  "I think that's enough for this morning," Luke said. "We all know that

  other Jedi have followed the wrong path, bringing not only themselves but

  millions of innocent lives to doom and suffering. But I trust you. A Jedi

  must

  trust himself, and a Jedi Master must trust his apprentices.

  "Explore yourvs and your surroundings, in teams or alone, whichever makes

  you comfortable. Go to the jungle. Go to other parts of this temple. Or

  simply

  go back to your chambers. The choice is yours."

  Luke sat down on the edge of the raised stage and watched the students

  file out of the grand hall. T
he translucent cube of the Holocron stood mute

  beside him, a vessel filled with valuable but dangerous knowledge.

  Obi-Wan Kenobi had been Luke's teacher. Luke had listened to every word

  the old man had said, trusting it; yet Luke had later learned how often Obi-

  Wan had obscured the facts, had distorted information--or as Obi-Wan

  explained

  it, simply offered the truth "from a certain point of view."

  Luke watched the robed forms and wondered if his students could handle

  the knowledge they might discover. What if, like ancient Exar Kun in Master

  Vodo's story, they were tempted to uncover the forbidden teachings of the

  Sith, that so subtly yet crucially differed from the Jedi Code?

  Luke feared what might happen should one of his students travel down the

  wrong path. But he also knew that he had to trust them--or they could never

  become Jedi Knights.

  Deep into the night Gantoris hunched over the cluttered worktable,

  secretly constructing his own lightsaber.

  A blanket of shadows surrounded him, obliterating distractions that might

  keep him from his task. His dark eyes had adjusted to the tight-beam

  glowlamp

  that spilled a harsh pool of light over his debris-strewn work surface,

  leaving the rest of the room in murk. As Gantoris moved to pick up another

  precision tool, his shadow flapped like a bird of prey across the ancient

  stone walls.

  The Great Temple sat silent, like an ancient trap to stifle sound. The

  other students in Master Skywalker's Jedi academy--his praxeum, as he called

  it--had retired to their private chambers to fall into an exhausted sleep or

  to meditate on Jedi relaxing techniques.

  Gantoris's neck ached, and his shoulder muscles burned from holding his

  cramped position for hours. He breathed in and out, smelling the thickness

  of

  old smoke and the scratchy moss that had worked for millennia to pry through

  cracks in the precisely placed temple blocks.

  The moss had withered not long after Gantoris had taken up residence in

  the chambers....

  Outside, the jungle of Yavin 4 simmered with restless life, rustling,

  chittering, singing, and shrieking, as stronger creatures fed, as weaker

  creatures died.

  Gantoris continued to work. He no longer needed sleep. He could draw the

  energy he required using different methods, secrets he had been taught that

  the other students did not suspect. His unbraided black hair stuck out in