Outbound Flight

Now, as she tried to stretch out to it again, she found that it had all but vanished.

"No," she whispered to herself But there was no mistake. When their attackers had targeted the weapons blisters, they had knowingly or unknowingly targeted the Jedi as well.

And with only one or two dazed and stu

All of them.

"I should have. . tried stop. . him sooner," Ma'Ning murmured, his voice weakening as he rapidly lost strength. "But he was… Jedi Master. . JediMaster. ."

With an effort, Lorana pushed back the paralyzing horror. "Don't talk," she said, trying again to move. "Let me help you."

"No," Ma'Ning said. "Too late. . for me. But not. . for others." One of his outstretched hands twitched toward her, and a bent section of girder pi

"But I can't just leave you," Lorana protested. Again she tried to get up, and this time she succeeded.

"I am far. . beyond your help," Ma'Ning said, a deep sadness in his voice. "Go. Help those. . who can still. . be helped."

"But-"

"No!" Ma'Ning bit out, his face convulsing with a sudden spasm. "You're. . Jedi. Taken. . oath. . serve others. Go.. go.

Lorana swallowed. "Yes, Master. I-" She trailed off, searching for the right words. But there weren't any.

Perhaps Ma'Ning couldn't find any, either. "Good-bye.. Jedi Jinzler," he simply said, a ghostly smile touching his lips. "Good-bye, Master Ma'Ning."

Ma'Ning's smile vanished, and he lifted his eyes again to the repair droids and their work. Turning away, Lorana picked her way through the wreckage toward the door.

She knew she would never see him again.

The door, when she reached it, was jammed shut. Stretching out as best she could to the Force, she managed to work it open far enough to slip through. The corridor outside was nearly as bad as the blister itself, with buckled walls and chunks of ceiling littering the deck. But here at least the attackers hadn't managed to cut completely through the hull and open it to space.

The blast doors ten meters down the corridor in either direction had closed when the blister had decompressed, sealing away this section from the rest of the ship. But with the breach now scaled and the emergency oxygen supplies repressurizing the area, the forward blast door opened for Lorana without protest.

In the distance she could hear shouting and screams, and could sense the fear and panic behind them. But for the moment, those people weren't her immediate concern. The Dreadnaughts were well equipped with escape pods, where the survivors could take refuge while the droids repaired the hull.

But there was one group of people who wouldn't have that chance: the fifty-seven so-called conspirators C'baoth had ordered locked away in the storage core.

The peopleshe had locked away in the storage core.

Her legs were starting to throb now where the girder had landed on her. Stretching out to the Force to suppress the pain, she headed in a limping run toward the nearest pylon turbolift.

"We made a bargain!" Kav snarled. "You were to destroy Outbound Flight for us!"

"I never made any such bargain," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. "I agreed only to do what I deemed necessary to eliminate the threat posed by the expedition."

"That wasnot what we wanted," Kav insisted.

"You were in no position to make demands," Mitth'raw'nuruodo reminded him. "Nor are you now."

There was a sudden hiss from the comm. "So," an almost unrecognizable voice ground out. "You think you have won, alien?" The display came alive. . and a cold shiver ran up Doriaria's back.

It was Jorus C'baoth, pale and disheveled, his clothing torn and blood-spattered, one side of his face badly burned. But his eyes blazed with the same arrogant fire that Doriana had seen that day long ago in Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's office.

He groped for Mitth'raw'nuruodo's sleeve. "Kav is right-you have to destroy them," he hissed urgently. "If you don't, we're dead."

Mitth'raw'nuruodo's eyes flicked to him, then back to the comm. "I have indeed won," he told C'baoth. "I have only to give a single order-" His hand shifted slightly on his control board, his fingertips coming to rest on a covered switch edged in red. "-and you and all your people will die. Is your pride worth so much to you?"

"A Jedi does not yield to pride," C'baoth spat. "Nor does he yield to empty threats. He follows only the dictates of his own destiny."

"Then choose your destiny," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. "I'm told the role of the Jedi is to serve and defend."

"You were told wrongly," C'baoth countered. "The role of the Jedi is to lead and guide, and to destroy all threats." The unburned corner of his lip twisted upward in a bitter smile.

And without warning, Thrawn's head jerked back, his whole body pressing back against his seat. His hand darted to his throat, clutching uselessly at it.

"Commander!" Doriana snapped, grabbing reflexively for Mitth'raw'nuruodo's collar.

But it was no use. The invisible power that was choking the life out of him wasn't something physical that Doriana might be able to push aside. C'baoth was using the Force. . and there was nothing Doriana or anyone else could do to stop him.

In a handful of minutes, Mitth'raw'nuruodo would be dead.

Lorana was in a turbolift car heading down the forward pylon when she felt C'baoth's attack echoing through her mind like the sound of a distant hammer. For a minute she puzzled at it, sensing his anger and frustration and pride, wondering what in the worlds he was doing.

And then, abruptly, the horrifying truth sliced through her like the blade of a lightsaber. "No!" she shouted reflexively toward the turbolift car ceiling. "Master C'baoth-no!"

But it was too late. In his single-minded thirst for revenge, Jorus C'baoth, Jedi Master, had gone over to the dark side.

A wave of pain and revulsion swept over Lorana, as agonizing as salt in an open wound. She had never seen a Jedi fall before. She'd known it could happen, and that it had in fact happened many times throughout history. But it had always seemed something comfortably distant, something that could never happen to anyone she knew.

Now it had. . and following close behind the wave of pain came an even more powerful wave of guilt.

Because she'd been his Padawan, the person who'd spent the most time with him. The one person, Master Ma'Ning had once suggested, whom he might have actually listened to.