obeyed, you will forget it even happened."
"Of course," Pellaeon nodded, just to shut him up. Yes, he'd report this to Thrawn, all right. The Grand Admiral would know what to do.
The countdown reached zero, and on the main wall display the planet Ukio appeared. "We should put up a tactical display, Master C'baoth," he said.
C'baoth waved a hand. "As you wish."
Pellaeon reached over the double display ring and touched the proper key, and in the center of the room the holographic tactical display appeared. The Chimaera was driving toward high orbit above the sunside equator; the ten Katana fleet Dreadnaughts of its task force were splitting up into outer and inner defense positions; and the Stormhawk was coming in as backstop from the night side. Other ships, mostly freighters and other commercial types, could be seen dropping through the brief gaps Ground Control was opening for them in Ukio's energy shield, a hazy blue shell surrounding the planet about fifty kilometers above the surface. Two of the blips flashed red: the guide freighters from the Stormhawk, looking as innocent as all the rest of the ships scurrying madly for cover. The freighters, and the four invisible companions they towed.
"Invisible only to those without eyes to see them," C'baoth murmured.
"So now you can see the ships themselves, can you?" Pellaeon growled. "How Jedi skills grow."
He'd been hoping to irritate C'baoth a little—not much, just a little. But it was a futile effort. "I can see the men inside your precious cloaking shields," the Jedi Master said placidly. "I can see their thoughts and guide their wills. What does the metal itself matter?"
Pellaeon felt his lip twist. "I suppose there's a lot that doesn't matter to you," he said.
From the corner of his eye he saw