Anakin was glad to see Siri, but seeing her meant he would have to see her Padawan, Ferus Olin. He wished that someone else — anyone else — had turned up to rescue them. The two of them had never gotten along, and things were worse between them since their mission on Andara, when Ferus had been abducted and Anakin had withheld the knowledge from Obi-Wan.
Anakin felt he'd had good reasons, but neither Obi-Wan or Ferus had understood them.
Ferus emerged from the starship. Tall and erect, he greeted Obi-Wan and Anakin with a proper nod. "Master Kenobi. Anakin."
"We're on another mission to the Xanlanner system," Siri said. "We got your distress signal. A couple of old friends of yours are ferrying me, Ferus, Ry-Gaul, and Tru Veld."
Anakin brightened. "Tru is here?" Tru Veld was his best friend. That would lighten the burden of seeing Ferus again.
He wondered if he would have felt this much pleasure if he had still been in the Zone of Self-Containment. He realized that the zone also blocked out feelings of intense happiness as well. He had paid a price for his serenity.
Obi-Wan suddenly moved toward the starship that Siri had emerged from.
"I should have known!" he called. "That was such a wobbly landing!"
Anakin smiled. The landing had been perfect. But Obi-Wan was allowed to tease his oldest friend, Garen MuIn. They had gone through Temple training together, just as Anakin and Tru had.
"You're one to talk about wobbling," Garen said, noting Obi-Wan's slight limp. There was concern underneath his words. "You look like you could use a medic."
"Maybe a touch of bacta," Obi-Wan admitted. "I tangled with a gundark or two."
"Ouch," Garen said. He laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Let's find the medpac."
Tru Veld bounded down the ramp of the other star-ship. His Master, Ry- Gaul, followed more slowly, his keen gray eyes surveying the landscape. Tru hurried up to Anakin, his silver eyes glinting. He was a Teevan, and had long, many-jointed arms and legs that caused him to walk like a rolling wave of water.
"Our paths cross, and it makes me glad," he said to Anakin.
"We're certainly glad to see you," Anakin said. "We have to get to Typha-Dor immediately."
Tru nodded. "That's why we're here."
"Who is that?" Anakin asked. He indicated a Jedi, a human woman with bright orange hair. She was compact and fit, and stood talking to Obi-Wan, Ry-Gaul, and Siri as Garen administered bacta to Obi-Wan's wound.
"That's Clee Rhara. She's an amazing pilot. She — " "Once ran the pilot program for Jedi students," Anakin said. "She's a legend."
Clee Rhara walked over. "Anakin Skywalker. We meet at last." Her shrewd eyes studied him. "I was a good friend of Qui-Gon's. We were students together."
"I'm honored to meet you, Master Rhara," Anakin said.
"No time for pleasantries. Better get aboard. I hear we have to get to Typha-Dor." Clee Rhara grinned. "It's going to take some fancy flying. The Vanqor ships are everywhere. Something must be up."
"Something is definitely up," Anakin said. "An invasion."
"Then there's no time to waste, is there?"
Clee Rhara turned and strode back to her cruiser. The other Jedi also hurried on board. Obi-Wan beckoned to Anakin to board with him on Garen MuIn's ship. Anakin was disappointed to have to say good-bye to Tru. Not to mention ride with Ferus instead.
Garen settled into the pilot seat. With a glance at Obi-Wan, he tilted his head toward Anakin, and Obi-Wan nodded. Pleased, Anakin took his place in the copilot's seat. He felt honored. Garen was possibly the best Jedi pilot in the Order, as good as Clee Rhara.
Garen flipped on the comm unit to speak to Clee. "So, do we have a strategy? Those Vanqors aren't too keen on ships violating their airspace."
"Sure," Clee Rhara answered. "Go really, really fast."
The two cruisers rose and streaked into the upper atmosphere at top speed.
"Set course for Typha-Dor," Garen said.
Siri sat at the nav console. She entered the destination coordinates.
Anakin kept his eye on the radar.
"Ships approaching," he said, giving the coordinates. "They look like patrols."
Four fast starfighters streaked across the sky. "Piece of quinberry cake," Garen said.
Garen's hands were light on the controls. He climbed abruptly, the ship's nose straight up. Clee Rhara followed.
Garen headed straight for the two small red moons orbiting Vanqor.
They orbited in tandem, and he dove for the space between them. He and Clee Rhara played hide-and-seek with the starfighters, who were unable to get a fix on their position.
"They're going to call for backup," Clee Rhara said. "I say it's time to outrun them."
"I'm right behind you. Let's go."
The two Jedi cruisers suddenly zoomed out from the protection of the moons' orbits. They streaked into the upper atmosphere. The Vanqor starfighters gave chase. Cannonfire boomed behind them, but they were able to outrun it. Garen and Clee Rhara maintained a zigzagging course, avoiding the occasional proton torpedo.
"We've got some kind of military ship ahead," Siri called. "Ten escort starfighters."
"Just a piece of juja-cake," Garen said.
"Three minutes until we can make the jump to hyperspace," Siri said.
Ahead of them, Clee Rhara dived as the enemy ship's huge weapons began to pound. Garen peeled off to the left. For the next three minutes, Anakin watched in awe as Garen slid the cruiser through, in, and around cannonfire without disturbing the gleaming red paint of his ship or even firing his own weapons.
Garen noted Anakin's interest. "I always prefer evasion to confrontation," he said with a grin.
The ship shot into hyperspace in a shower of stars. Everyone settled back.
"Typha-Dor in two hours," Siri said.
"Piece of sweet cake," Garen said, satisfied.
They came out of hyperspace beyond Typha-Dor's atmosphere. Anakin immediately checked the radar. "No pursuit ships."