Charza took them down a narrow tunnel toward the center of the fuselage, well away from the drives, and brushed against a large chrome button at the end of the tunnel. The hatch swung outward with a sigh, and warm dry air wafted over them like a draft out of the deep deserts of Tatooine.
Obi-Wan entered their travel quarters and rubbed his hands with satisfaction. "Most excellent, Charza," he said. Anakin stepped through and wiped his feet on the absorbent mat just below the hatch.
Charza hung back, clearly uncomfortable with the dry air. The small but well-equipped room was bright and warm, furnished with two acceleration couches that doubled as beds. Looking up, Anakin saw they had a direct view of space through a broad circular port, radially ribbed for additional strength.
"We depart in a tenth of a tide. . one standard hour," Charza announced. "There are waterproof shoes, boots, that will adjust to fit, should you decide to keep me company forward, in the pilothouse. That would bring me no end of delight." Charza backed away, and the hatch closed.
Anakin settled in and dropped his small bag in a closet. "Vergere must have stayed here," he observed.
"Unless she preferred swimming," Obi-Wan said.
"What do you think happened to her?"
"I wouldn't dare hazard a guess. Her skills are exceptional. She is as resourceful as Thracia, and almost as adventurous as you."
Anakin smiled at this. "But more sensible?"
Obi-Wan inclined his head. "You can be sensible," he allowed.
"But it's a sometime thing," Anakin said. "Now, can you tell me where we're going?"
Obi-Wan stowed his own travel kit and sat on the end of one couch. He folded his hands and looked steadily at Anakin. "I won't know all the details until we match our data card with Charza's. I do know this: The Jedi received knowledge of a world in the Gardaji Rift, within the Tingel Arm, far beyond the bounds of Republic rule. There had been intelligence from freelance traders about an outlying community that built exceptional starships, small personal craft, sleek and beautifully made, and rated easily at zero- point-four."
Anakin's eyes goggled. He sat across from Obi-Wan, eager to hear more.
"The rumors were associated with a mysterious planet, called Sekot by some, Zonama Sekot by others."
"Sea-coat?"
"Zonama Sekot, sources told us, was the actual name of the planet, which circles a small dwarf star at the far spinward and galactic north side of the rift. But charts from expeditions in that region of two centuries past show only rocky rubble, protoplanets, nothing of interest but to future hardscrabble miners. Nothing alive, certainly. Still, other sources confirmed that a kind of diffuse trade route had been established, and that rich connoisseurs of star travel were coming by secret appointment to have ships made. While the ships have been observed in certain systems, no one in Republic security has ever examined one in detail."
"Sounds like a legend," Anakin said. "Maybe a hoax."
"Perhaps. However, an intrusion was reported three years ago in the Gardaji region, from an unknown spacefaring species. It was that which Vergere was sent to investigate, and incidentally, to see if she could locate Zonama Sekot. She found the planet. . and sent to our farthest outlying station a brief message. But nothing has been heard of her since. The transmission was garbled. We have only interesting fragments."
"And what did she find?"
"A world covered with dense jungle, of a kind never ob- served before. Huge treelike life-forms and hidden factories. Her report did little more than confirm that the legend is true."
Anakin shook his head in wonder. "Rugged," he said admir ingly. "Absolutely rugged!"
"We'll look over the full reports once we're under way," Obi-Wan said. "Now, we should join Charza."
"He's rugged, too," Anakin said. "I'd like to see him go up against a Hutt."
"Charza comes from a species devoted to peace," Obi-Wan said. "He regards overt conflict as the grossest breach, and would rather die than fight. Still, he is intensely intelligent and extremely ambitious."
"So he makes a great spy?"
"A great spymaster. And an extraordinarily resourceful pilot," Obi-Wan said.
Chapter 7
Raith Sienar was a very wealthy man. His scrupulous attention to markets, his extraordinary skill in managing his workers-human and otherwise-and his strategy of always keeping operations relatively small and localized had brought him profits beyond his wildest dreams of youth.
This new prospect-of joining with Tarkin in an enterprise both nebulous and risky-made him nervous, but something deep inside pushed him forward nonetheless.
Instinct had moved him this far, and instinct said this was the pulse of the future. In truth, he might know a few more things about that future than Tarkin.
Still, it was wise to be cautious, knowledgeable, prepared, in all times of change.
Another contributor to his success had been his habit of hiding excesses. And he did indeed have excesses-that was the word he used, much better than foibles or eccentricities.
Not even Tarkin knew about Sienar's collection of failed experiments.
Sienar walked slowly down the long hall that lay over a kilometer beneath the central factory floor of Sienar Systems' main Coruscant plant. Holograms appeared just ahead of him, holo-projectors turning on as he passed, showing product rollouts for the Republic Defense Procurement plan ten years before, commendations from senators and provincial governors, prototype deliveries for the early contracts with the many branches of the Trade Federation, which had become more and more cloaked in secrecy as it tightened its central authority.
He smiled at the most beautiful-and so far, the largest-of his products, a thousand-passenger ceremonial cruiser rated at Class Two, designed for triumphal receptions on worlds signing exclusive contracts with the Trade Federation.
And then there was his fastest and most advanced design, most heavily armed, as well, made for a very secretive customer- someone of whom Sienar suspected Tarkin was completely ignorant. He should not underestimate my own contacts, my own political pull! he thought.
But in fact, Sienar had never learned with certainty just who that customer was, only that he-or she, or it-favored Sienar designs. But he suspected the buyer was a person of great importance. And he suspected much more, as well. A buyer whose name it is death to even whisper.
So the Republic was changing, perhaps dying, perhaps being murdered around them day by day. Tarkin intimated as much, and Sienar could not disagree. But Sienar would survive.
His ships had likely ferried between star systems the very personages that Tarkin could only hint at. That made him proud, but at the same time. .
Raith Sienar knew that extraordinary opportunity also meant extraordinary danger.
Tarkin was sufficiently intelligent and very ambitious, and also as venal as they came. This amused Sienar, who fancied himself above most of the comforts of the flesh. The comforts of the intellect, however, he was perfectly willing to wallow in.