by Watson, Jude
Anakin had been wrong on Andara. The fact that he had concealed the disappearance of a Jedi still astonished Obi-Wan. His actions did not take away from the fact that Anakin was special. When he made mistakes, they were big ones. His need to be perfect, to be powerful, was a flaw. Try as he might, Obi-Wan could not show Anakin that if he held himself back, everything would come to him. Anakin just kept pushing.
He resolved to work out some of their differences on this mission. They were on a journey together, and for each phase they would develop different rhythms, different paces. Anakin needed to understand that. A little distance between them didn’t mean that the core was threatened.
“Our contacts are meeting us nearby,” Euraana Fall said. “This way.”
The Jedi picked their way through the rubble of the courtyard and followed Euraana down the dark street, leaving the pilot and cruiser behind. “Better not use a glow rod,” she said. “No need to attract attention. This part of the city isn’t used much. It will be a good place for us to set up operations.”
She led them to a building that seemed miraculously untouched by the signs of war, until they entered and saw that part of the rear portion had been blown out. The domed ceiling was half destroyed. Stars littered the sky above, thrown like mineral dust on shimmersilk.
“This was once a meeting hall.” Euraana’s voice echoed in the space. “I attended lectures here, and concerts. There are still offices and even a café here. We can make it work.”
Two forms separated from the shadows. Obi-Wan tensed, but he saw almost immediately that they were friendly. They were most likely the Mawan contacts. They were both short, muscular men with pale complexions and long hair that was tied back with metal clasps. One of the men had gleaming dark hair, the other snowy white.
The shorter one with the white hair and youthful face gave a short nod to Euraana and held out his hand, palm out, in the Mawan gesture of friendship and welcome. “Glad to see you made it.” His voice rumbled like a balky sublight engine.
“Greetings to you, Swanny,” Euraana said to the white-haired man. Then she faced the dark-haired Mawan and said, “Hello, Rorq.” Euraana turned and introduced the two to the Jedi party. The two men nodded greetings.
“Swanny and Rorq were tunnel workers before the war,” Euraana explained. “They live below. The tunnel workers have agreed to help us, and they are their representatives.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t been thoroughly briefed,” Obi-Wan said politely. “Tunnel workers?”
Swanny bristled. “What’s wrong with that?”
Euraana said quickly, “Let me explain. Before the war, the tunnel workers were…well, near the bottom of the social structure—”
“Meaning the high-and-mighties looked down on us,” Rorq said, crossing his thick arms. “Called us subrats.”
“Even though we kept everything running for them,” Swanny added with a cynical twist to his mouth.
“So the order of things,” Euraana said, holding her hand up and flipping it over, “is now reversed.”
“Subrats on top,” Swanny said. “It’s a sweet thing.”
“The citizens below depend on the tunnel workers to bring provisions and keep their generators going,” Euraana continued. “They have practically fashioned a city down below.”
“We saved their hides,” Rorq growled.
“We’ve gotten a taste of power, and we like it,” Swanny said. “Not only that, we’re good at it. So we’d like to be involved in the rebuilding of Naatan. Not from the bottom, though. Things have changed.”
“Everything has changed,” Euraana said quietly.
“Before the Purge, Euraana here wouldn’t have given me the time of day,” Swanny said. “Now she has to deal with me.”
“Oh?” Euraana said, cocking an eyebrow. “Do you know me so well, Swanny Mull? Enough to call me a snob and an opportunist in one breath?”
Swanny grinned and held up his hands. “Maybe I spoke too soon.”
“Maybe you should stick to things you know about,” Euraana snapped in a tart tone. “The crimelords, for example.” She turned to the others. “The tunnel workers serve as go-betweens. The citizens are forced to buy their food and goods from the crimelords in temporary markets set up below in the tunnels. The tunnel workers set it up.” She gave Swanny an icy glance. “They are paid by the crimelords for their services, as well as by the citizens.”
“Why shouldn’t we be paid?” Swanny asked mildly. “We take the risks.”
“Tell us about the crimelords,” Obi-Wan said. If he didn’t step in, he had a feeling Euraana and Swanny would trade taunts for hours. “Who is the most dangerous? Who is the most powerful? Sometimes they aren’t one and the same.”
Swanny frowned. “Most of the criminals in Naatan are low-level types working for bosses. I’d say your three biggest problems are Striker, Feeana Tala, and Decca.”
“Let’s start with Decca,” Obi-Wan said.
“She’s a Hutt,” Rorq said with a shudder. “The daughter of Gardulla. Decca took over Gardulla’s organization when she died. Her center of operations used to be on C-Foroon, near Tatooine, but she got chased off. She came here and brought her goons with her. She’s mainly in the spice trade.”
“But she has a personal grudge against Striker,” Swanny said. “He hit her operation within days of arriving on Mawan. Grabbed control of the power grid and a warehouse full of weapons. But Decca’s got the edge in transport. She controls most of the main tunnels. She stole most of Naatan’s transports when she arrived and she’s managed to hold on to them.”
“The only trouble is, she doesn’t have fuel for them,” Rorq said. “Striker keeps raiding her fuel supplies, just to make her angry. He doesn’t need that much fuel. He doesn’t have as many transports.”
“Nobody knows who Striker is?” Anakin asked.
Swanny shook his head. “Not many have even seen him. His operators were in control for years, and he only dropped in from time to time. But he’s been spending all of his time here lately.” He nodded at Obi-Wan. “I’d say he was the most powerful. And dangerous.”
“And Feeana Tala?” Yaddle asked. “A native of Mawan, she is.”
Rorq nodded. “She controls most of the goods and services that are sold to the citizens below. Small potatoes for the other crimelords.”
“Still, they raid her when they feel like it,” Swanny said. “They want to control as much of what happens on Mawan as they can. Decca wants Striker off-planet, and he wants the same for her. Feeana’s edge is that she knows the tunnels below almost as well as we do.”
Euraana looked at Yaddle. “So what is our first step?”
“Return and take back the city, the citizens must,” Yaddle said. “So control of the power grid we must have.”
“You’ll have to guarantee their safety,” Euraana said.
Yaddle turned to her and blinked in a gesture that was very much like Yoda’s. “Guarantee, you say? Guarantees, there never are.” She spread her hands. “Help them we will. Courage must they find themselves.”
Euraana nodded. “If we can get the power grid back, we might be able to persuade them to leave the tunnels. And if there was at least some progress with the crimelords—”
“That is our job,” Obi-Wan said, indicating himself and Anakin. “They must be told that if they don’t voluntarily leave the planet, Senate security forces will make them go.”
“If the Senate will send them,” Euraana said worriedly. “They still have not agreed.”
“Agree they will, if take back the city we can,” Yaddle said.
“What if the crimelords don’t listen to talk?” Swanny asked. “In my experience, they seldom do.”
“We have to find a reason to make them listen,” Obi-Wan said. “Everyone is vulnerable somewhere. For now we just need to learn more about their operations.”
“Swanny and Rorq can help you there,” Euraana said. “Aboveground has been so destroyed that even the cr
imelords have bunkers belowground.”
“Safer down there in case something bad happens,” Swanny said. He grinned at Obi-Wan and Anakin. “We know just about everything that goes on down there.”
“Take us below,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll be in touch while you take care of the power grid,” he said to Yaddle. Yaddle nodded good-bye.
“If you’ll follow me.” Swanny gave a bow to the Jedi that held a hint of mockery.
Obi-Wan and Anakin strode after the two. Obi-Wan’s instincts were on alert. He had his doubts about the value of Swanny and Rorq’s assistance. They were scruffy, rude, and probably untrustworthy.
Qui-Gon would have befriended them instantly.
Chapter Three
Anakin walked with Obi-Wan, following Swanny through the dark streets to an industrial part of Naatan, an area made even darker by the presence of the shells of unlighted buildings looming overhead. Swanny led them to a booth that was a tall cylinder made of opaque black glass in a passage between two former warehouses.
“This is a forced air tube,” Swanny said. “We use them instead of turbolifts. If you’ve never been on one, it can feel a little strange. You step out on air, and the pressure lessens, dropping you below.” He opened a control panel and punched in a level and a speed. “I’ll keep it slow for your first time. Just don’t ever turn the control to ‘eject.’ That’s what we used to get rid of toxic substances—we’d just blast them into the atmosphere. The roof of the cylinder retracts, and you’d find yourself lost in the clouds.”
“Are there many levels below?” Obi-Wan asked.
“About twenty,” Rorq said. “And the tunnels extend over the entire area of Naatan. It’s like another city down there. You’ll see.”
Rorq stepped into the air tube with no floor. He hung there for a second, grinning at them, then shot below.
Swanny gestured. “After you.”
Obi-Wan stepped out into what seemed to be a black void. Anakin heard the faint sound of rushing air. The next thing he knew, his Master had sunk down out of sight.
“Next,” Swanny said.
Anakin stepped into the chamber. It felt strange to feel the air pressure against his boots. He descended, the air rushing against his ears. The sensation felt oddly familiar, even though he’d never been in an airlift before. When he reached the bottom he felt the shock of the ground against his boots and almost stumbled as he stepped off.
Obi-Wan and Rorq were waiting. After a moment, Swanny joined them, stepping off the airlift with the ease of long practice.
“Ah,” Swanny said, spreading his arms to take in the dim, dirty tunnel, “home, sweet home.”
Anakin wrinkled his nose. The air was dank and heavy and smelled stale.
Swanny grinned. “The purification system is hooked into the power grid. Sometimes it’s off, sometimes it’s on. Lately it’s been off.”
Swanny activated a glow rod and they set off down the tunnel. It was wide and high, big enough for the four of them to walk side by side.
“This is one of the main transport tunnels,” Swanny explained. “We used to have speeders operating along here. Now we motor the old-fashioned way.”
Obi-Wan glanced around at the network of tunnels branching off from the one they were walking down. “I don’t know how you keep from getting lost.”
“There are map kiosks, but when the power’s down, we can’t access them,” Rorq said. “Luckily, we could find our way around down here blindfolded. Patrol, Swanny.”
Quickly, Swanny deactivated the glow rod. Rorq dived into a side tunnel and Swanny urged them through the opening. They pressed against the walls of the side tunnel as a speeder slowly made its way down the main tunnel. Two guards sat, blaster rifles at the ready.
“Better to avoid them,” Swanny whispered. “Decca’s crew.”
“Does she run patrols frequently?” Obi-Wan asked.
“I’d say randomly,” Swanny said. “She doesn’t have enough fuel for regular patrols, so she counts on surprise. She’s always looking to round up some of Striker’s men if she can. They capture you and ask questions later. I’d rather avoid a rifle butt on the scalp, thank you.”
They walked back into the main tunnel. “The substations are where the main computer relays used to be,” Swanny said, holding the glow rod high so that they could pick their way down the tunnel. “Most of them have been destroyed in blaster shoot-’em-up battles. There are also docking bays for our once-gleaming fleet of transports. Decca controls most of the docking bays. And the rest of the crimelords have taken over most of the substations.”
“Where do the Mawans live?” Anakin asked.
“They took over a half-dug-out area that was supposed to be another loading bay before the Purge. They set up a kind of tent village there. We subrats serve as scouts to protect them from raids. We also ferry food, water, and other supplies.”
“For a fee,” Obi-Wan said.
Swanny nodded. “A small fee, just to cover costs. We have to pay bribes to the crimelords.”
“Who controls the power grid now?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Striker, at the moment,” Swanny said. “That could change. The main generator is in a substation down here. Striker has it guarded.”
“Can’t you switch power from the main substation to another?” Anakin asked.
Swanny shrugged. “Technically, yes. But it’s not easy. They’ll need a lot of luck to boost the system from another source. Plus there’s a relay substation that will shut the whole system down if procedure isn’t followed. Nobody wants to do that, even the crimelords. Too much risk that the entire system would never restart. They all want to control the power grid. They don’t want to destroy it.”
“What did you do before the Purge, Swanny?” Obi-Wan asked.
“I’m a water rat,” Swanny said cheerfully. “I programmed all the wastewater systems. I know every pipe down here, just about. Rorq here was on fuel transport tunnels.”
“Barely got paid a living wage to keep the surface running,” Rorq grumbled.
Swanny clapped an arm around Rorq’s shoulders. “Ah, but it was a sweet life, wasn’t it, my friend? Low life expectancy, no bonuses, the contempt of our fellow citizens—you’ve got to admit, you miss it.”
Rorq shook his head. “You’re crazy.”
“That’s why I’m happy,” Swanny said with a twisted grin. “How else do I stay sane?”
“Why are you working with us?” Obi-Wan asked curiously. “If the citizens take back Naatan, there’s every chance you could end up underground again.”
“True words,” Swanny said. “Most of the tunnel workers are hanging back. They won’t give their support. They like the power they have, even if they’re operating under a corrupt system that could get them killed at any moment. Call me crazy, but I want to live long enough to see the sun again. Naatan will be returned to the Mawans one day. I’m sure of that. If I help the right people, I’ll be rewarded.” He grinned. “Just call me a visionary with a deep interest in my own well-being.”
“If you like,” Obi-Wan said.
Anakin could see by the expression on Obi-Wan’s face that his Master was amused by Swanny. It never failed to surprise him when his proper Master loosened up with some sort of odd character.
“Now, where would you Jedi like to start?” Swanny asked. “Naturally, Rorq and myself would prefer to keep ourselves out of any extremely dangerous scenarios, but we’re ready for almost anything.”
“We need to observe the systems they’ve set up, how they operate,” Obi-Wan said. “I don’t want them to know the Jedi are here, not yet. It doesn’t pay to present a deal until you know what’s important to your adversary.”
Rorq looked nervous. “You mean infiltrate their hideouts?”
“Unless you can think of another way,” Obi-Wan said.
“Down, boy,” Swanny said absently to Rorq. His eyes narrowed as he thought, and he stopped walking. “We arrange temporary markets for Feeana. Set up
a time and place for the Mawans to buy and trade. There’s one tonight. She’s the one who deals with us most often. Doesn’t cheat the Mawans quite as much as the others. If you keep your hoods over your faces and don’t attract attention to yourselves, you could pass for Mawans. Feeana will probably be there. She likes to keep an eye on things.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “Let’s go.”
Swanny and Rorq led them through the maze of tunnels, walking fast and purposefully now. They descended several levels and twisted through a small network of tunnels that suddenly opened out into a large space.
It had once been used for storage, that was clear. Open shelving was built into the curving durasteel wall frames. Plastoid bins lined one wall. Everything was empty. Instead, blankets were spread out on the scuffed floor of the space, and a ragtag assortment of items were spread out. Fruit that was past its prime, flour, some battered kitchen items, a broken warming unit. Folded thermal capes, their edges ragged and torn. An old pair of boots.
The Mawans wandered among the goods. Anakin saw how their eyes lingered hungrily on the different items, how their hands dangled uselessly by their sides or how they fingered empty purses hung on belts. The last time he had seen such hopelessness had been in the slave quarters on Tatooine.
“They can’t afford anything, but they come anyway,” Swanny said.
Bored gang members, blaster rifles in their hands, stood against the walls, some leaning and trying not to doze.
Across the space a Mawan female sat astride a battered durasteel box, her hand resting lightly on her blaster holster. She was younger than Anakin had imagined, about Obi-Wan’s age, he guessed, and she looked wiry and tough. She wore a comlink headset and spoke rapidly into it while her eyes scanned the room. Anakin kept his hood forward to conceal his face. Without the telltale blue veins of a Mawan, he would be identified immediately as an outsider.
He and Obi-Wan kept their heads down and shuffled along with the others. Anakin knew his Master was trying to get closer, hoping to overhear whatever directions Feeana was giving on her headset.