Luke leaned back in his chair, gazing at the display and chewing at the inside of his cheek. So not only had C’baoth once been an adviser to the man who would someday declare himself Emperor, but he’d also been part of the attack against those Dark Jedi from the Sluis sector that Leia had told him about. One of whom had survived long enough to face Master Yoda on Dagobah:
There was a soft footstep behind him. “Commander?”
“Hello, Winter,” Luke said without turning. “Looking for me?”
“Yes,” Winter said, coming up to stand beside him. “Princess Leia would like to see you whenever you’re finished here.” She nodded at the display, running a hand through her silky white hair as she did so. “More Jedi research?”
“Sort of” Luke told her, sliding a data card into the terminal’s slot. “computer: copy complete record of Jedi Master Jorus C’baoth.”
“Jorus C’baoth,” Winter repeated thoughtfully.
“Wasn’t he involved in the big ascendancy flap on Alderaan?”
“That’s what the record says,” Luke nodded. “You know anything about that?”
“No more than any other Alderaanian,” Winter said. Even with her rigid control some of the pain leaked through to her voice, and Luke found himself wincing in sympathy with it. For Leia, he knew, the destruction of Alderaan and the loss of her family was a heartrending but slowly fading ache in the back corners of her mind. For winter, with her perfect and indelible memory, the pain would probably go on forever. “The question was whether the line of ascent to Viceroy should go to Bail Organa’s father or one of the other family lines,” Winter continued. “After the third voting deadlock they appealed to the Senate to mediate the issue. C’baoth was one of the delegation they sent, which took less than a month to decide that the Organas had the proper claim.”
“Did you ever see any pictures of C’baoth?” Luke asked.
Winter considered. “There was a group holo in the archives that showed the entire mediation team,” she said after a moment. “C’baoth was-oh, about average height and build, I suppose. Fairly muscular, too, which I remember thinking seemed rather odd for a Jedi.” She looked at Luke, coloring slightly. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean that to sound derogatory.”
“No problem,” Luke assured her. It was a common misconception, he’d discovered: with mastery over the Force, people just assumed there was no reason for a Jedi to cultivate physical strength. It had taken Luke himself several years to truly appreciate the subtle ways in which control of the body was linked to control of the mind. “What else?
“He had graying hair and a short, neatly trimmed beard,” Winter said. “He was wearing the same brown robe and white undertunic that a lot of Jedi seemed to favor. Other than that, there wasn’t anything particularly notable about him.”
Luke rubbed his chin. “How old did he look?”
“Oh : I’d say somewhere around forty,” Winter said. “Plus or minus five years, perhaps. Age is always hard to ascertain from a picture.”
“That would fit with the record here,” Luke agreed, retrieving the data card from the slot. But if the record was right : “You said Leia wanted to see me?” he asked, standing up.”
“If it’s convenient,” Winter nodded. “She’s in her office.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
They left the library and started down the cross corridor linking the research areas with the Council and Assemblage chambers. “You know anything about the planet Bortras?” he asked Winter as they walked. “Specifically, anything about how long its people live?”
She thought a moment. “I’ve never read anything that mentioned it one way or another. Why?”
Luke hesitated; but however the Imperials were getting information out of the New Republic’s inner sanctum, Winter was certainly far above suspicion. “The problem is that if this alleged Jedi out on Jomark really is Jorus C’baoth, he has to be over a hundred by now. I know there are some species that live longer than that, but he’s supposed to be human.”
Winter shrugged. “There are always exceptions to a race’s normal life span,” she pointed out. “And a Jedi, in particular might have techniques that would help extend that span.”
Luke thought about that. It was possible, he knew. Yoda had certainly had a long life-a good nine hundred years-and as a general rule, smaller species usually had shorter life spans than larger ones. But usually didn’t mean always; and after many hours of records searches, Luke still hadn’t figured out just what species Yoda had belonged to. Perhaps a better approach might be to try to find out how long the Emperor had lived.