“Wait a minute,” Obi-Wan said, frowning as he stepped to Anakin’s other side. “What are you doing?”
“I’m teaching Master Skywalker how to handle Dreadnaught-One’s weaponry, of course,” C’baoth said.
“Doesn’t Captain Pakmillu already have experienced crewers for that job?”
“Experience is not always the most important aspect of combat,” C’baoth pointed out. “Timing and coordination are also key, and no amount of experience can give ordinary gunners the edge that we already possess. Tell me, Master Skywalker, has Master Kenobi ever spoken to you of the Jedi meld?”
“I don’t think so,” Anakin said. “What does it do?”
“It permits a group of Jedi to connect their minds so closely as to act as a single person,” C’baoth told him.
“It can also be very dangerous,” Obi-Wan warned. “It takes a Jedi Master of great power and depth in the Force to create such a state without killing or destroying the minds of everyone involved.”
“A Jedi Master such as myself,” C’baoth said calmly.
“I’ve successfully performed such a meld on four separate occasions.”
Obi-Wan stared at him. “Four?”
“Three were training exercises, of course,” C’baoth conceded. “But the fourth was under serious field conditions, with five other Jedi in the meld. As you can see, we came through it successfully.”
“That was with six of you,” Obi-Wan pointed out.
“There are nineteen of us aboard Outbound Flight.”
“Twenty, including Master Skywalker,” C’baoth corrected, laying a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “Certainly we’ll need to proceed with caution. I’ll be discussing the procedure with each of my Jedi, and we’ll be carrying out a number of practice sessions before we leave Republic space. Still, once we’re all comfortable with the technique, we’ll become an awesome fighting force indeed. With Jedi working as one at the weapons systems of all six Dreadnaughts, Outbound Flight will be virtually unbeatable.”
Obi-Wan looked down at Anakin. The boy was taking in all of this eagerly, with apparently no qualms whatsoever. “I don’t know, Master C’baoth. Weapons control, large-scale combat—that’s not the Jedi way.”
“It will be,” C’baoth said grimly, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “The time is coming when all Jedi will be forced to take up arms against a great threat to the Republic. I have foreseen it.”
Obi-Wan felt a shiver tingle his spine. C’baoth always seemed so proud and confident, often to the point of arrogance.
But there was something dark and uncertain in the other’s sensenow, something almost fearful. “Have you told Master Yoda about this?” he asked.
C’baoth’s eyes came back to focus and he snorted.
“Master Yoda keeps his own counsel, and listens to no other,” he said with a touch of scorn. “But why do you think I worked so hard to bring Outbound Flight to fruition? Why do you think I was so insistent that as many Jedi as possible should accompany us?” He shook his head. “Dark days are coming, Master Kenobi.
It may be that we of Outbound Flight will be all who will be left to breathe life back into the ashes of the universe we once knew.”
“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said. “But the future is never certain, and each of us has the power to affect what is to be.” He looked at Anakin again. “Sometimes without even knowing what it is we do.”
“I agree,” C’baoth said. “Outbound Flight is my way of affecting the future. And now, young Skywalker—”
He broke off as the comlink at his belt gave an insistent twitter. “One moment,” he said, pulling it free and clicking it on. “Jedi Master C’baoth.”
The voice on the other end was too faint for Obi-Wan to make out the words, but he could hear the urgency in the tone. He could also see the exasperation settling into C’baoth’s face. “Keep them both there,” he ordered. “I’m on my way.”
Shutting off the comlink, he reached over and tapped a pair of switches on the board. “Here’s the tutorial,” he told Anakin. “Start learning where everything is and how it works.”
He threw Obi-Wan a hard look. “Stay here, Master Kenobi. I’ll be back shortly.”
With his robes billowing behind him, he left the room.
“Master?” Anakin asked tentatively.
“Yes, go ahead,” Obi-Wan confirmed. Setting his jaw, he headed after C’baoth.
The other had already made good progress down thecorridor, striding along with his usual indifference toward those who had to scramble to get out of his way. Obi-Wan followed at a discreet distance, trying not to run over anyone himself.
A few minutes later, they arrived at a knot of people gathered in the middle of the corridor. “Move aside,” C’baoth ordered.
The crowd opened, and Obi-Wan saw a man half lying, half sitting against the corridor wall, his face twisted with silent pain as he gripped his right shoulder. A few paces away a second man stood beside one of Dreadnaught-1’s single-seat speeders, his hands working nervously at his sides. “What happened?”
C’baoth demanded, kneeling beside the injured man.
“He ran right into me,” the man said, his face twisting even more with the effort of talking. “Rammed right into my shoulder.”
“He jumped in front of me,” the man by the speeder protested. “I couldn’t stop in time.”
“If you hadn’t been riding so fast—”
“Enough.” C’baoth ran his hands gently across the other’s injured shoulder. “It’s merely a dislocation.” His hand twitched as he stretched out to the Force-
“Aaahhh!” the man gasped, his whole body surging violently before sagging back against the wall. “Aahh,” he breathed more quietly.
C’baoth straightened up and picked two people out of the crowd with his eyes. “You and you: accompany him to the mid-line medcenter.”
“Yes, Master C’baoth,” one of them said. Crouching beside the injured man, they helped him to his feet.
“As for you,” C’baoth continued, turning toward the speeder’s driver as the others made their way out of the crowd,
“you were clearly driving recklessly.”
“But I wasn’t,” the other protested. “It’s not my fault.
These things are set at way too high a speed.”
“Really?” C’baoth said coolly. “Then how do you explain that in twelve days, among nearly two hundred speeders and swoops aboard six Dreadnaughts, this is the first accident that’s happened? I’ve ridden them four times myself without any problems.”
“You’re a Jedi,” the man said sourly. “You never have problems like that.”
“That is as it may be,” C’baoth said. “Nevertheless, for your role in this accident, you are hereby docked one day’s pay.”
The man’s eyes widened. “I’m what? But that’s—”
“You are also forbidden to use Outbound Flight’s speeder system for one week,” C’baoth interrupted.
“Now, wait a frizzing minute,” the man said, consternation starting to edge into his shock. “You can’t do that.”
“I just did,” C’baoth said calmly. He looked around the crowd, as if daring anyone to argue the point, then brought his eyes to rest on a Rodian in a maintenance jumpsuit. “You: take this speeder back to its parking area. The rest of you, return to your jobs.”
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan thought, the crowd began to disperse. C’baoth waited long enough to see the Rodian ride away with the speeder, then turned and headed back the way he’d come, his mouth twitching as he spotted Obi-Wan. “I told you to remain with Padawan Skywalker,” he said as he approached.
“I know.” Obi-Wan gestured toward the dissipating crowd. “‘What exactly was that?”
“It was justice,” C’baoth said, passing Obi-Wan without breaking stride.
“Without a hearing?” Obi-Wan asked, hurrying to catch up with him. “Without even an investigation?”
“Of course there was an investigation,” C’baoth said.
“You were there; you heard it.”
“A couple of questions to the participants hardly qualifies as an investigation,” Obi-Wan said stiffly. “What about a call for witnesses, or an examination of the speeder itself?”
“What about the Force?” C’baoth countered. “Don’t we as Jedi have an insight that permits us to make these decisions more quickly than others?”
“In theory, perhaps,” Obi-Wan said. “But that doesn’t mean we should ignore the other resources available to us.”