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The shuttle to Coruscant rumbled in the atmosphere. Amidala had her hands folded in her lap, like a properly stoic diplomat- but her mind refused to quiet, the anxiety gnawing at her from within as the cheap flight shuddered, glowpanels flickering.
Not now, she pleaded with the Force. Oh, gods, I can't die now- I swear on the sharrows, if this shuttle crashes into a sun now of all days…
She'd what? Shake her fist at Vader from the afterlife?

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Padmé sighed, slumping back against her hard plastoid seat.
'I still think we should have gotten on a better flight,' she murmured out of the corner of her mouth, her words directed to the Jedi Master sitting beside her.
'The better the ship, the worse it is at avoiding the Empire.' Obi-Wan Kenobi mumbled back, tugging the hood of his ragged cloak lower.
'That won't matter if this shuttle falls apart before we get there,' Padmé muttered- mostly to herself. It was no use worrying now. But that wouldn't stop her.

She self-consciously pulled her cloak tighter around herself, eyeing the… questionable… other passengers on the commercial shuttle. Keenly aware that her sparkling, recreated funeral dress was worth more than the entire ship, she was careful to keep the blue gown concealed beneath her worn black cloak.

Her hand settled at her right hip, where Sabine's delicately crafted tattoo now rested. Padmé's fingertips drummed idly atop where she knew it to be. If all had gone according to plan- and oh, gods, she hoped it had- then by now, the Ghost crew and their ship were safely on Coruscant. 'Safe' being a relative term, of course.

Praying all had gone well- as she had been doing all day, on her rickety flight- Padmé closed her eyes. It was her turn to rest. Obi-Wan would keep watch.


Sabine stood in the dingy light of Coruscant's underworld. Although only mid-afternoon, no daylight penetrated this level of the city-world. Instead, alley was awash with exclusively neon light, which could be traced back to the various business in the area. They flashily peddled exotic drinks, barely-legal prescriptions, and… other things. The kind you wouldn't want on your public record.

Sabine shook her head. Even five levels below the surface of the planet, the seedier side of Coruscant's night life could be seen.

Wisely stepping around a puddle of something on the duracrete (she had no desire to find out what the sticky substance was), she made her way to the casino at the end of the walkway.
'Here it is,' she told Ezra, 'the Good Omens.' She sighed, looking up at the bright, flickering sign. 'Let's hope the name doesn't jinx us.' She said beneath her breath.
'Would you rather it was called the Bad Omens?' Ezra pointedly asked, crossing his arms. Sabine hid her smile.
'Let's just get this over with,' she said, punching Ezra's arm as she walked past. She held her breath as she strolled into the bright casino. Desperately, she wished it wasn't just the two of them headed in there.

The members of the Ghost crew were arriving on Coruscant in pairs, an hour apart, at markedly different spaceports. The five of them-
The six of us, Sabine amended with a small smile, thinking of Padmé-
were high on the Empire's 'Most Wanted' list. As were their faces. So as Kanan had wisely suggested, they split their arrivals- the crew was much less recognizable when they were apart.

Sabine and Ezra's arrival couldn't have gone smoother. Using a few bottles of blond hair dye, some false gills for Sabine, and a hoverchair for Ezra, they'd made it past the Imperial security checkpoint.

The fake IDs and generous bribes might have had something to do with it, too.

But they were the first pair to arrive on the Imperial world- meaning that for the next two hours, she'd have no idea if the rest of her crew was okay. Contacting them would be too risky.

Besides, they'd all meet at the Good Omens before 5:45 PM, local time- two hours from now. But if someone didn't make it there…
Sabine swallowed tightly against the lump in her throat. If someone didn't make it there, then the rest of them would have to continue with the plan, and be off Coruscant by noon tomorrow.

But she didn't have to think about that now. Right now, all she had to do was scope out the casino, order a drink, play a few machines… In short, act casual.
Act casual for the next two hours, while I wonder if Kanan, Hera, and Zeb will make it here alive…
Right. Easy.

At 5:32, Sabine finally sighed in relief. Zeb had strolled in through the wide, swinging transparisteel doors. The tall, furred alien caught her eye- then he scanned the casino, locating Ezra.
Where's Kanan?! Sabine wanted to scream at him. Luckily, she didn't have to.

Kanan strolled in behind Zeb, playing it casual despite the deep purple bruises along his jaw. The two men parted, acting as total strangers. Zeb slowly worked his way across the gold-lined, circular chamber, and sat on a white-furred couch just behind Ezra. Kanan walked unsteadily across the plush purple carpeting. He seemed to be moving toward her.

Sabine tensed, ready to spring up and catch him if the Jedi fell.
'We're flirting,' Kanan said to her in a low voice as he met her in the bar.
'And you're awful at it,' Sabine replied, accepting the drink he'd brought her. 'I don't know how in the worlds you and Spectre Two-' meaning Hera, '-manage.'
Kanan gave her a weak smile.
'I've just told you a very funny joke,' Sabine whispered, dark eyes flicking across the many strangers who might be spying on them.
Kanan laughed on cue. 'And Spectre Four-' meaning Zeb, '-is in position,' the Jedi Knight informed her. 'We're still flirting, by the way.'
'Really? I thought you two were just friends.' Sabine dryly replied.
'You know I meant us.' Kanan, unamused, said.

'We've got sixty seconds before this looks like more than a chance meeting,' Sabine warned him, glancing at her wrist chrono.
'Agreed.' Kanan said- his voice was somewhat muffled, as he held his icy drink to his bruised jaw.
'The bruises?' Sabine briefly asked, eyeing his battered form.
'Ran into a bit of trouble with… the door greeters,' he replied- Sabine knew he was talking about the guards at the Imperial security checkpoint.
'Blast.' Sabine spat. She took a sip of her stiff drink. 'Think they'll send a report to the sithspawn?' She asked, referencing Vader.
'Probably.' Kanan replied. His brow creased in concern as he looked at her chronometer. 'We've got thirty seconds left.'

'Okay,' Sabine said, thinking quickly. 'Any word on Spectre Two?'
'None, which is good news.' Kanan answered. 'My trouble at the checkpoint delayed me from leaving the spaceport. Last I saw, her ship hasn't entered orbit.'
'Good.' Sabine glanced across the luxurious casino, finding Ezra across the room. His blue eyes met hers. Then he set his right arm behind his back, and crossed two fingers.
'That's the signal,' Sabine informed Kanan. 'Spectre Six-' meaning Ezra, '-is in position.'

'Time to break this off.' Kanan stated.
'Understood. We're arguing now.' Sabine replied in a low tone, narrowing her eyes.
'Are we?' Kanan asked rather tersely, slamming his drink down. The bartender- and several patrons- turned to stare.
'Yes,' Sabine emphatically whispered, crossing her arms. Kanan threw up his hands, standing so quickly he spilled his drink. It dribbled onto the soft purple carpets, despite the bartender's protests.
'Fine! Have it your way!' Kanan shouted at the top of his lungs. Even though she knew it was just for effect, Sabine could barely keep herself from jumping at his booming voice.


Kanan must have sensed her discomfort, because he glanced back at her apologetically before topping off their performance: he picked up his delicate crystal glass from the marble bar. Then he hurled it over the bartender's head, causing the alien to shriek and chitter in terror; the crystal vessel shattered against a shelf of priceless liquor. Clenching his fist, Kanan used the Force to bring the whole shelving unit down.

Guards came charging down from the casino's upper level.
Kriff. They're fast. Too fast. Sabine thought.
In the blink of an eye, the black armored guards had crossed the circular game room; they were nearly at the bar. Sabine realized this was the opportune time to faint. Dramatically.

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She did so with a loud cry, dropping directly before one of the guard's feet. The six-foot guard took an equally-dramatic tumble onto the floor. Peering through her brown eyelashes, Sabine saw Kanan easily knock out the second guard, then sprint out of the building.


Before more guards could arrive to pursue Kanan, Ezra leapt up, eager to play his role in the premediated chaos. The teenager lunged across a pazaak table, scooping up as many credit chits as he could. Several beings cried out in indignation. Alarms screeched.

Zeb crouched down behind a furred seating arrangement, only pretending to cower; the burly Lasat's role was to back them up in case of extreme danger. He wasn't needed yet.

Ezra ran at break-neck speeds for the exit, credit chits spilling out of his hands and onto the plush game room floor. The Good Omens' customers chased after him. Women in velvet gowns and Imperial officers in full dress dived to onto the purple carpeting, frantically gathering up the credit chits that were (supposedly) theirs.

Guards poured into the game room, cascading down the golden staircase like spilled liquor. Sabine leapt up, drawing a hold-out blaster from her flowing sleeve.
'Get back or this one gets it!' She shouted, pointing the slim weapon at the cowering bartender. The few calm patrons in the casino abruptly shrieked and stampeded for the exit.

Her hold-out blaster wasn't charged- it would be impossible to fire even a stun blast. But of course, only Sabine knew that.

Therefore, three guards deviated from their course, roaring rather creative profanities at the young rebel.
Lovely, she thought. She dived behind the bar, drew a real blaster from her tall black boot, and stunned the three guards before they could blink.

'Sorry for the mess,' she breathlessly apologized to the petrified bartender. Sabine tossed him a twenty-credit chit. She sprinted out of the Good Omens without checking to see if the alien had caught it.

The cool night air was a shock after the heady, perfumed casino. Sabine didn't let it slow her. She let the cold, metallic air fill her lungs as she sprinted south, scanning the neon-lit streets for the alley she needed.

There! She spotted it. She dove into the dark, seemingly empty alley- then slammed into an invisible barrier. She groaned, the air slammed out of her lungs as she tumbled back.

The invisible barrier reached out and caught her.
'Sabine! Are you okay?' It asked her.
'Fine,' she groaned, letting the invisible boy help her get her balance. 'Thanks, Ezra.'
Ezra pressed something small and round into her palm. She clipped the white device onto the front of her shirt, then- as practiced- cranked the dial far to the right. A soft hum filled her ears. She looked down at her hands… yet couldn't find them.

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Sabine let out an unseen smile. The protoypes had worked.

Moments later, the black-armored casino guards charged into the alley. They pulled up short after seeing the supposedly empty alley. Sabine, Ezra, and Zeb- all invisible, as hoped- sneaked around the guards, and headed toward the back entrance of the Good Omens.

Sabine let out a triumphant grin as she saw the janitor's entrance, its door slightly ajar, its lock evidently picked. Sure enough, the chaos they'd created had set off the Good Omens' burglar alarms… which meant no one noticed Kanan breaking in through the back entrance.

The three invisible rebels snuck into the casino, closing the door behind them.
'You will give me the entrance codes, Grutch,' Kanan said from somewhere yet unseen.
'I will… give you the entrance codes…' Grutch's dazed voice replied. Jedi mind tricks sure came in handy.

Sabine turned off her cloaking device, and saw a flicker of light as her friends similarly reappeared.
'Mission Lead was right,' Sabine remarked, referencing Mon Mothma. 'Ghost Protocol works like a charm.' Sabine unclipped the prototype cloaking device from her teal tunic, rounded a corner, and tossed the device to Kanan.
'Careful with that,' the Jedi Knight rebuked her. He smoothly caught the device mid-air. 'Only twenty have been built, and we only have a few on hand. They're-'
'Insanely expensive prototype technology, we know,' Ezra interrupted, cheekily tossing his own cloaking device to Kanan. 'Did you get the codes to the hangar bay?'

'I'm working on that,' Kanan replied. He frowned, turning to the other being in the room- a bearded, heavily tattooed man who could only be Grutch Mergur: owner of the Good Omens. He was still standing there in a daze, scribbling something on a piece of flimsiplast.
'Is this enough, sir?' Grutch asked dreamily, his soft tone at odds with his imposing figure.
'That's great.' Kanan said, glancing at the paper.
The Jedi Knight nodded to Sabine. She drew her blaster in a flash, and stunned Grutch. The middle-aged man nearly collapsed in a heap, but Zeb's large paws caught Grutch; the Lasat threw the man over his shoulder.

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'Where do you want 'im?' Zeb asked, grunting as he hoisted the man into the air.
'There's a closet down that hall.' Kanan pointed it out. 'Hera said she'll bring us a better way of holding him once she gets here.'
Kanan turned to a computer terminal in the dusty halls. Referencing the piece of flimsiplast Grutch had given him, Kanan punched in what could only be the access codes for the Good Omens' hangar bay.

The luxurious casino, located five levels beneath Coruscant's surface, was connected to a hangar bay on the surface of Coruscant. This was made possible by a barely-legal, largely unknown, private tunnel system that led from the top level of the casino to the ground level of the hangar bay. No doubt Grutch was involved in some illegal shenanigans, and wanted a quick escape in case he landed in hot water.

The hangar bay doors could be operated from a private computer terminal within the Good Omens- the terminal that Kanan was now standing at.
'Okay, Hera,' Kanan said into his specially-encrypted comm unit, 'the hangar bay doors are opening now. You're cleared to land.'
'Thanks, hun,' Hera sweetly replied.
Kanan cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Um… everyone else is here.'
'Oh.. See you all soon, then.' Hera quickly hung up.
Sabine bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Ezra and Zeb did not.

So far, so good, Sabine thought. Hera would sneak past Imperial security in a few minutes- she'd soon be arriving on the rebel fleet's pride and joy: a captured Imperial shipping freighter. It was loaded with a false cargo of casino machines, strategically arranged to conceal the real cargo within- Hera's ship, the Ghost.

Once Hera made it past Imperial air patrols, the rebels would hide her 'Imperial' freighter- and the Ghost- within the Good Omens' private hangar bay. Kanan would impersonate Grutch, and turn down any Imperial investigation into the recent chaos; then he'd close the Good Omens for the next two days while he 'investigated' the events himself. The casino would function as the rebels' base of operations for the next eighteen hours; the attached hangar bay would allow them to make a hasty escape when they needed to.

So far, so good… Sabine mused. So far…
But once Obi-Wan and Padmé arrived, and Vader sensed their presence…
Now, that would be an entirely different case….

(Redirected from 24601)
← 246002460124602 →
List of numbers — Integers
Cardinaltwenty-four thousand six hundred one
(twenty-four thousand six hundred first)
Factorization73 × 337
Greek numeralMβ{displaystyle {stackrel {beta }{mathrm {M} }}}͵δχα´
Roman numeralXXIVDCI

24601 is the natural number that comes after 24600 and before 24602.

It is the first prison code of the character Jean Valjean in the novel (his only code in the musical) Les Misérables. It was chosen by Victor Hugo when he believed that he was conceived on 24 June 1801 (that is, 24-6-01).[1] The minor planet24601 Valjean is named for Jean Valjean's prison code.[2]


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The prime factorization of 24601 is 73 and 337. Since these are the only nontrivial divisors of 24601, and 24601 = 60(73 + 337) + 1, it follows that 24601 is a 60-hyperperfect number.[3]


  1. ^Bellos, David (2017). The Novel of the Century : The extraordinary adventure of Les Miserables. Particular Books. p. 162. ISBN978-1-846-14470-7.
  2. ^'(24601) Valjean = 1971 UW = 1999 CF40'. IAU Minor Planet Center. Retrieved 2020-12-03.
  3. ^Sloane, N. J. A. (ed.). 'Sequence A007592 (Hyperperfect numbers: n = m(sigma(n)-n-1)+1 for some m > 1)'. The On-Line Encyclopedia of Integer Sequences. OEIS Foundation.
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