Outbound Flight Page 8

  "As far as I know, the Council isn't playing at anything," Lo­rana said. "We're not supposed to take sides in these things."

  Riske snorted. "Like you didn't take sides on Naboo?" he said pointedly. "I noticed your high-minded neutrality was sur­prisingly helpful to Queen Amidala and her government."

  "I don't know anything about that," Lorana said. "As you've already guessed, I'm only a Padawan. But I can tell you that the Council didn't send us here. It was Master C'baoth's idea, and the Council only reluctantly gave him permission."

  Riske frowned. "So he came up with this all on his own?"

  "Well, actually, he was responding to something Supreme Chancellor Palpatine said," Lorana amended. "But it still wasn't the Council's idea."

  "Palpatine," Riske muttered, rubbing his cheek thoughtfully. "Interesting."

  "My turn now," Lorana said. "What are you doing wandering around the city?"

  "Trying to keep Magistrate Argente alive, of course," Riske said, his tone suddenly dark. "Nice talking with you, Padawan. Try and stay out of my way, all right?" With that he turned and strode away down the alley.

  Lorana watched him until he disappeared out the other end into the city's pedestrian traffic. Then, with a sigh, she turned and headed back the way she'd come. Master Kenobi, she knew, was not going to be happy about this.

  With no easy way to locate Lorana, and with every reason to expect they would most likely chase each other in circles if he tried, Obi-Wan had opted to wait for her on a bench in a small park across the street from the cantina.

  Anakin was just finishing his tarsh maxer when she finally re­turned.

  "Interesting," Obi-Wan said when she'd finished her story. "So Magistrate Argente's in danger, is he?"

  "Or at least Riske thinks he is," Lorana said, her eves holding the wary look of someone bracing herself for a reprimand.

  In fact, as Obi-Wan gazed into those eyes, it occurred to him that they seemed to fall into that mode far too naturally. Apparently, C'baoth's teaching style was as domineering as the rest of the man's personality. "But he didn't seem to think the danger was coming from you or Master C'baoth?"

  "No, though he did ask what the Council was up to," Lorana said. "But it seemed almost a perfunctory comment, as if it was just natural to assume that the Council was playing politics. I don't think he would have been so open with me if he'd really thought we were plotting against Argente."

  "You call that being open?" Anakin demanded scornfully. "Hints and threats?"

  "Telling her to stay out of his way wasn't necessarily a threat," Obi-Wan told him. "Professional bodyguards like Riske always worry about bystanders or well-meaning but amateurish helpers getting in the way."

  "He thinks we're amateurs?"

  "In certain aspects of that job, we are," Obi-Wan told him bluntly, turning back to Lorana. "So what do you think? Is Ar­gente in danger?"

  A flicker of surprise crossed her face. C'baoth, he reflected, probably didn't ask her opinion very often. "I don't know," she said. "But feelings are running high about the Corporate Al­liance's efforts to take full possession of the mines."

  "I can imagine," Obi-Wan said. "Do you know which hotel Argente is staying at?"

  "The Starbright," Lorana said. "It's about a kilometer east of the city center."

  "Which isn't the direction Riske was going," Obi-Wan pointed out. "But it is the direction to Patameene District."

  "Patameene District?" Anakin asked.

  "I heard the bartender mention it to him," Obi-Wan said. "It's one of the city's biggest subdivisions, straddling both some very rich and very poor areas. If we're going to nose around, that would probably be a good place to start."

  "We're going to help him?" Anakin objected. "I thought the Corporate Alliance was trying to steal the mineral rights from the Brolfi."

  "That's what the negotiations are supposed to determine," Obi-Wan reminded him. "At any rate, that's not our concern. Our job as Jedi is to protect and preserve life across the Re­public."

  "I don't know," Lorana said hesitantly. "Master C'baoth wasn't very happy to find you two here. He might not like us in­terfering in matters this way. Riske and his people seem to be on top of things—shouldn't we let them handle it?"

  "Who's interfering with anything?" Obi-Wan asked blandly as he stood up. "We're going on a tour of the city, just as Master C'baoth suggested. If we happen to run into some trouble, that's hardly our fault."

  It was a ten-minute walk to the nearest edge of Patameene District. Obi-Wan kept his eyes moving as they walked, hoping to spot Riske in the crowd. But having been caught once, the bodyguard was apparently too cagey to let it happen again.

  "This should be the edge of the district," he said as they reached a low decorative stone wall and passed through a pedes­trian archway. "Anakin, remember that we're just here to look around."

  "Sure," Anakin said, his eyes already sweeping the area, his sense that of a hunting darokil straining at its leash. "Okay if I go ahead a little?"

  "All right, but not too far," Obi-Wan said. "I don't want you getting lost."

  "I won't." Slipping between a pair of Karfs, the boy ducked into the crowd.

  "You sure he'll be all right?" Lorana asked.

  "He'll be fine," Obi-Wan assured her. "He's a little reckless, but he's strong in the Force and generally behaves himself."

  "You must have great confidence in him," Lorana mur­mured.

  Obi-Wan gave her a sideways look. There'd been an odd wistfulness in her tone just then. "C'baoth doesn't have as much confidence in you, I take it?"

  "Master C'baoth has had several Padawans in his lifetime of service to the Jedi Order," she said, her voice going carefully neutral. "He knows what he's doing."

  "Yes, of course," Obi-Wan said. "He does have a rather over­powering personality, though, doesn't he?"

  "His reputation is well earned," she said, again clearly pick­ing her words carefully. "He's skilled and knowledgeable and intelligent. I've learned a great deal from him."

  "Though he's also perhaps a little too demanding?"

  "I wouldn't characterize him that way," she said, her voice going a little cooler.

  "Of course you would," Obi-Wan said, giving her a reassur­ing smile. "I thought that about my Master at times. And I know Anakin thinks that about me."

  For a moment she hesitated. Then, almost reluctantly, she smiled back. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to please him," she admitted.

  "I know the feeling," Obi-Wan said. "Just remember that this, too, will pass. And once you're a Jedi Knight, your job will no longer be a matter of pleasing a single Master or even a group of them. Your job will be to do what is right."

  "That's the part that seems so hard," she confessed. "How do you ever know what is truly right?"

  Obi-Wan shrugged. "When you're at peace," he said. "When you're truly attuned to the Force."

  "If I ever am."

  Obi-Wan grimaced. On one hand was Anakin, pushing ahead so eagerly that he was forever overstepping his limits, though he had to admit the boy succeeded more often than he failed. On the other hand was Lorana, so awed by C'baoth's presence and reputation that she was afraid to even stretch herself beyond any­thing she already knew.

  Somewhere, there had to be a middle ground.

  For another few minutes they walked together in silence, weaving their way through the other pedestrians and shoppers. Obi-Wan kept his eyes moving, watching for signs of Riskc or of the trouble he apparently expected to find here and making sure to keep Anakin's bobbing head within sight.

  Ahead, off to the left, was a landspeeder repair shop, with a display of shiny parts in the open-air front room and half-seen figures working in the darker repair area in back. Several Brolfi were browsing around the front room displays, most of them adults but one a teenager about Anakin's age. Obi-Wan eyed him, noting his reddish brown craftsman's vest with its multiple pockets. Most Brolfi seemed to make do without nearly that much ca
rrying capacity; apparently, this boy was the sort who liked carrying all his little treasures with him.

  He smiled to himself. Jedi, forever wandering the galaxy with most of their possessions on their backs or belts, were hardly in a position to point fingers on that one. Throwing one final look at the boy, he started to turn away.

  But to his surprise, something drew his eves back again.

  Something about the youngster's posture, perhaps, or the way he was looking around him.

  Or perhaps it was the subtle prompting of the Force. Frown­ing, he kept his attention on the boy as he and Lorana continued to weave their way through the milling crowds.

  And as he watched, the young Brolf stepped close to a rack of burst thrusters, a set of cutters appearing magically in his hand. With a glance at the workers in the back room, he deftly snipped the anchor lines of two of the thrusters, catching each in turn and slipping them out of sight inside his vest. The cutters followed the thrusters, and a second later the boy wandered ca­sually out of the shop. Turning his back to the approaching Jedi, he melted into the crowd.

  Obi-Wan grabbed Lorana's upper arm. "Brolf teenager in a red-brown vest," he said in a low voice, pointing at the spot where the youth had disappeared. "Get Anakin, find him, and follow him."

  "What?" Lorana asked, staring at him in bewilderment.

  "Find him and follow him," Obi-Wan repeated, glancing around. To their right was a narrow alleyway cutting a path be­tween a pair of ten-story buildings. "Go."

  Still clearly puzzled, Lorana nevertheless nodded and hurried ahead. Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of her grabbing Anakin's arm; and then he was in the alley, dodging the garbage containers as he headed to the center. It was probably thirty meters to the tops of the buildings flanking him, and even with Jedi strength en­hancement a leap like that was well beyond his capabilities.

  But there were other ways. Glancing both directions down the alley to make sure no one was watching, he stretched out to the Force and leapt.

  His boots hit the right-hand wall about four meters above the ground. Bending his knees to absorb the impact, he shoved off again before he could start falling back down, pushing himself upward and toward the wall on the left-hand side. That jump gained him another two meters, and he pushed off again toward the right, frog-hopping his way upward.

  He reached the top with only minor twinges in his knees and leg muscles to mark the strain. Running to the edge of the roof, he dropped flat onto his stomach and looked down.

  The streets looked just as crowded from up here as they did from down below. Pulling out his comlink, he keyed for Anakin. "Skywalker," Anakin's voice came promptly. "What's this about a kid in a brown vest?"

  "He stole a pair of burst thrusters from that shop back there," Obi-Wan explained, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand as he searched the crowd below for the young thief

  "You mean like you use in Podracers and swoops?"

  "Right," Obi-Wan said. "They're also the drive system of choice for homemade missiles."

  There was a gentle hiss from the comlink. "Got it," Anakin said, his voice suddenly grim. "Did you see which way he went?"

  "He left the shop going west," Obi-Wan said. "But he could easily have changed—wait a minute." He leaned a little farther over the edge of the roof as a flicker of red-brown caught his eye before it passed out of sight beneath an awning. He watched the other side, and moment later it emerged. "There he is," he told Anakin. "He's headed north now."

  "What street?"

  "Not a clue," Obi-Wan admitted. "Where are you two?"

  "Just passing a building with a big blue-and-gold sign talking about medicines," Anakin said. "Across the street is a green hanging banner—"

  "Right—I've got you," Obi-Wan cut in as he spotted them. "Take the next street to your right, and you'll see him about a block ahead."

  He watched Anakin and Lorana long enough to see them pick up their pace, then shifted his attention back to the thief, wishing he'd thought to bring along some macrobinoculars. Anakin had a set, but that wasn't going to do Obi-Wan any good.

  "Obi-Wan?"

  Obi-Wan lifted his comlink again. "Go."

  "We've turned north," Anakin reported. "I think I see him ahead."

  "Stay where you are," Obi-Wan ordered. A somewhat chunky Brolf had stepped from one of the storefronts and was moving to intercept the thief. "I think he's about to pass off his ill-gotten gain. Put Lorana on."

  There was a moment of silence. "Yes?" Lorana's clear voice came.

  "Move forward a little from where you are," Obi-Wan told her. "The thief's rendezvousing with someone—slightly over­weight Brolf with a dark blue sash over a lighter blue tunic."

  "I see him," Lorana confirmed. "He's moving in close .. . looks like they're talking . . ."

  "Is the boy giving him the thrusters?" Obi-Wan asked. "The adult's blocking my line of sight."

  "He's in mine, too," Lorana said tightly. "I can't—there they go.

  "Blast," Obi-Wan muttered under his breath as the two Brolfi separated, the teen continuing north while the adult turned west. "Did he give him the thrusters?"

  "I couldn't tell," Lorana said. "I'm sorry."

  Obi-Wan scowled as he watched the two Brolfi heading their separate ways. The adult had certainly had the time and the op­portunity to take the thrusters. Problem was, he'd also had the time to merely confirm that the grab had been made, to check for followers, or to give the boy new instructions.

  And no matter which way the rendezvous had gone, the whole thing might simply be a bit of Barlok's normal criminal ac­tivity. It might have nothing to do with Passel Argente and Riske's paranoia.

  But Riske had been looking for trouble out this way. Obi-Wan had found some. It was definitely worth checking out.

  And here he was, stuck on a rooftop a block away.

  "Then I guess we'll have to follow both of them," he de­cided, looking around the nearby rooftops. If he could leap to the next one over, then the one next to that, then find a stairway or turbolift to get back to street level .. .

  But no. In broad daylight, in the middle of a crowded city, there was an even chance someone would spot his acrobatics and recognize him for what he was. The minute any potential attack­ers realized there was a Jedi on their trail, they would go to ground so fast and so deep that even a professional like Riske would have trouble rooting them out.

  "I agree," Lorana said. "I'll take the adult."

  Obi-Wan hesitated. Lorana was the older of the two Pada­wans, and thus theoretically the more capable. But he knew Anakin's capabilities and experience, and knew the boy could deal with any trouble he might run into.

  Still, if there was one thing Lorana lacked in abundance, it was confidence. It wouldn't help to send her after a teenager, es­pecially not with Anakin listening.

  And after all, she would only be following the Brolf, not confronting or fighting him. That should be safe enough.

  "Fine," he told her. "Take Anakin's comlink—it's linked di­rectly to mine—and give him yours. What's your frequency?"

  She gave him the number. "We're splitting up," she added. "I'll contact you when the adult comes to roost."

  "Right," Obi-Wan said. "Tell Anakin I'll catch up with him as soon as I can."

  Switching off the comlink, Obi-Wan pushed himself back to his feet. He took one final look over the edge of the roof, then turned and hurried toward the stairs. Yes, his Padawan could deal with any trouble he might run into.

  Probably.

  7

  For a wonder, Anakin didn’t get himself into any mischief in the time it took Obi-Wan to reach the street and catch up with him. The young Brolf, for his part, continued on his way, appar­ently oblivious to the fact he was being followed.

  Obi-Wan had noted earlier that Patameene District included rich neighborhoods as well as poorer, working-class ones. The teen led them into one of the latter, finally entering one of the units in a slightly dilapidated house ring.
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  The house ring was a standard Brolfi urban structure, con­sisting of a circle of houses or apartment buildings built around a central courtyard. The courtyard was designed to be a common recreation area for the ring, but through a gap where one of the houses had collapsed Obi-Wan saw that this particular courtyard had been turned into something that more closely resembled a junkyard.

  "Looks like Watto's back area," Anakin murmured, ducking his head to peer inside. "They've got at least three projects going on in there."

  "Any of them look like something that would use burn thrusters?" Obi-Wan asked.

  "Hard to tell," Anakin said. "The one on the left—"

  "Hold that thought," Obi-Wan cut him off quietly. There had been a flicker in the Force .. .

  "Can we help you?" a suspicious voice asked from behind them.

  Keeping his hands visible, Obi-Wan turned around. There were three adult Brolfi coming toward them, their simple tunics worn but neat and clean. "No thank you," he said politely. "We were just noticing all the construction work in there and wonder­ing what they were building."

  "Why would you care?" the spokesman asked.

  "My young friend here used to build Podracers," Obi-Wan explained. "He's always been fascinated with that sort of thing."

  "Really," one of the other Brolfi said, looking Anakin up and down. "You know anything about split-X air intakes?"

  "Never used them myself," Anakin said. "But I can install them or fix them if there's a problem."

  "Really." The Brolf filled his lungs. "Duefgrin!"

  There was a slight pause; then the teen they'd been following appeared at the gap in the ring. "Yes, Uncle?" he called.

  "Couple of humans here who say they know split-X sys­tems," the Brolf said. "You still having trouble with yours?"

  "I don't know," the teen said, eyeing Obi-Wan and Anakin doubtfully. "I just picked up a new compression controller. Maybe that'll help."