CHAPTER ONE
Patience was required of every Jedi. No matter what the pressure, a Jedi maintained inner calm. Every Padawan Learner knew the story of Jedi Master Yaddle, who had been imprisoned underground on Koba for several centuries and never lost her serenity.
Then again, Anakin Skywalker thought, even Master Yaddle might have cracked if she had to deal with Senatorial procedure.
Anakin hid his smile. Without seeming to move, he tensed and relaxed his muscles. He had been sitting for hours in the Polestar Reception Room off the Grand Hall of the vast Senate complex. The huge room had a soaring vaulted ceiling, which was gilded with sheets of precious metals from various worlds. The seating was low to the ground, wide with adjustable armrests for many-limbed beings. Plush cushions and reclining backs had tempted several beings into slumber. So did the large screens showing a droning speech in the main Senate chamber.
Anakin’s Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, sat quietly, every muscle still. His eyes rested on the gilded wall in front of him. To anyone walking by, he appeared completely composed. But Anakin knew his Master well, and he could sense an impatience that radiated like heat off Obi-Wan’s stillness.
They had been sitting for most of the morning. Anakin could feel every minute of that wait in his coiled muscles. They had been summoned early that morning with the news that a decision on Obi-Wan’s petition for an “order to reveal” had been reached. Obi-Wan had filed the petition against an influential Senator, Sano Sauro. When they’d arrived that morning, Obi-Wan had been directed by a Senatorial aide to wait “for just five minutes, please.” That was three hours ago. They were still waiting.
Anakin’s boot began to tap a quick rhythm on the stone floor. With one glance from Obi-Wan, Anakin stopped.
“Can I get you anything, Master? Tea?” Anakin asked. He would love to have something - anything - to do.
“No, thank you, Padawan. We will wait.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms and resumed his intense scrutiny of the wall.
Nothing but the pursuit of Granta Omega would have brought them here. The galactic criminal had set his sights on the Jedi, and Obi-Wan had twice been his target. Omega was not practiced in the dark side of the Force, but he was fascinated with the Sith and knew that one was at large in the galaxy. He had set out to lure that Sith, and was willing to kill a Jedi in order to do so. He would amass even more wealth using any means he could. Obi-Wan considered him a great enemy of the Jedi.
Anakin had wanted to hunt him down, to start somewhere in the far-flung reaches of the galaxy and gather information, but Obi-Wan had counseled patience. They could wander the galaxy for months or years without getting any closer to Omega. Instead, Obi-Wan told Anakin, they must follow the only lead they had: Years before, Senator Sano Sauro had taken Omega on as his protŠgŠ, and was probably still in touch with him.
Sauro was also an enemy of the Jedi, though he cloaked it behind a silky manner and Senatorial procedure. Obi-Wan would have to force him to cooperate. In order to have access to the information Obi-Wan was sure was buried in his files, they would have to follow Senate procedure. And Senate procedure was the one thing that Anakin knew his Master had no patience for. As a matter of fact, it was the one thing he knew that Obi-Wan was incredibly bad at.
So Obi-Wan had turned to an expert: a young Senate aide with a brilliant mind, the Svivreni Tyro Caladian. Tyro had made it his business to have at his fingertips the most unnecessarily complicated, ridiculously obscure, and surprisingly silly rules of order.
Tyro had explained that their only course of action would be to file an order to reveal. This order could be obtained only through a complicated series of steps that included petitions, signatures, approvals, and seals. Obi-Wan had made it through these steps, and at last the order had been served on Sano Sauro.
Anakin was sure that as soon as they gained access to Sauro’s files, they would find the clue that would lead them to Omega.
Suddenly a Svivreni in a navy tunic burst into the vast room. His black hair flowed down his back, loosely held with a thick ring of dull metal. He was stocky and furred, his small, intense face screwed into an expression of nervous haste. He tried to modify his pace, but he ended up running and skidded to a stop before Obi-Wan and Anakin, his thin-soled boots sliding on the polished floor.
“I was tied up in a subcommittee hearing - ” he said breathlessly.
Obi-Wan shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. No news yet, Tyro.”
Tyro Caladian shook his head rapidly. “How can that be? Something must be wrong.”
Anakin frowned. He wasn’t happy to hear Tyro say that.
“We had him in our grasp and he slipped away,” Tyro moaned. “I can feel it.”