"But they breed very slowly, and only a small fraction of each generation has the talent that allows them to serve as twillers.

Those are the ones who actually manipulate the fluid retooling that make Spaarti possible."

"I see," Doriana said, as if he hadn't already thoroughly researched the whole operation. "Still, the Supreme Chancellor will want me to be absolutely certain. Would it be possible for me to inspect the facilities themselves?

Quietly and privately, of course."

Binalie knew a politely phrased order when he heard it. "Of course," he said, getting to his feet. "I have a private way into the plant."

They were halfway down the corridor leading back toward the landing pad when a boy's voice split the mansion's elegant silence. "Hey! Dad!"

The two men stopped and turned. Hurrying toward them was a young boy about twelve years old-Lord Binalie's son Corf, Doriana ten tatively identified him. Behind the boy, walking with a longer stride and a more measured pace, was the final player in the day's scheduled drama: Jedi Knight Jafer Tories.

"Corf," Binalie said, sounding surprised and a little uncomfortable. "I thought you were on weed control this morning."

"We saw the shuttle," Corf explained as he trotted up to his father's side, giving Doriana a quick once-over as he arrived.

"Are you going to the plant?"

"For a few minutes, yes," Binalie said.

"Can I come along?"

Binalie shook his head. "Not this time."

The boy blinked. Clearly, that wasn't the answer he'd been expecting.

"Why not?"

"Business," his father said firmly. "Only Master Doriana and I are going.

"

"But..."

"No arguments," Binalie said sternly, shifting his attention away from Corf as the Jedi reached the group. "I'd like you to meet Jafer Tories, our local Jedi guardian. This is Kinman Doriana, special advisor to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine."