Kenobi: Star Wars

by John Jackson Miller

Mosep tapped the datapad and smiled knowingly. “Pretty clever, what you boys are doing out there. Even if Jabba thought of it first, more than a decade ago.”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Fine. Play innocent.” Mosep pitched the datapad to the desk, where it disturbed the credit stacks. “I guess it’s so easy, anyone can do it. Though this year’s Tuskens aren’t much for fighting back.”

  Another ruckus from above. Orrin shook his head, trying to register everything. “Wait. Did you say you were going to change the payment plan?”

  “Yes,” Mosep said. “You might say that we want out.” He fingered his vest buttons. “Double your usual payment for tomorrow—and the full balance in two weeks.”

  Two weeks? Orrin gulped. Even the first condition was impossible. “I’ve tried to keep up. You’ve seen it! It’s just this last couple of payments that have been short. Why now?”

  Mosep grinned. “I thought you wanted it to be over.”

  “It’ll never be over,” Orrin said, enraged. “I know you people! You get your claws into someone and you never let go!”

  “In another time,” Mosep said, “we’d be perfectly happy to have … a long-term engagement with your business. We find you to be rather inventive, for a rural. But the truth is Jabba is in need of cash, now, not investments.”

  “In need of—” Orrin looked around. Apart from the macabre mess of a ceiling, the rest of the room stank of money, right down to the finely woven tapestry hanging behind the platform depicting a scene from Hutt history. “You seem to be doing pretty well!”

  Mosep looked at the credits on the desk and chuckled. “No, Jabba needs quite a bit more. It’s this Galactic Empire the Republic became. It’s quite the change. Until we see how it’ll deal with the Hutts, Jabba wants as much cash on hand as possible.”

  “To bribe the new people, you mean!”

  “Or whatever is necessary. No business likes uncertainty.” Mosep looked at his pocket chrono. “So, twenty-four hours for the penultimate payment, shall we say?”

  Orrin slouched, feeling the weight of the galaxy. He stammered. “I—I have some plans. I can get it. But I might need more time. If you could take a little less tomorrow—”

  In the center of the room, Mosep snapped his fingers, suddenly reminded. “Yes, that’s right. I’d forgotten about that. We’ve taken a little less already, these last three payments. It’s why we sent you Bojo.” He looked to the guards. “Well, as you’ve done us the convenience of coming here, you can be punished for that right away.”

  Orrin dropped his hat. “What?”

  “Smash his hands,” Jorrk said, cackling. “He won’t need that swank drivey-drivey anymore.”

  “Naw,” Boopa said, slapping the Klatooinian in the chest with the back of his hand. “Smash his legs. He spends time in that store. Everything he needs is just a crawl away.”

  “No, no, no!” Mosep shook his head vigorously, his face disappearing in a blur of whiskers. “This gentlebeing still has a day to find payment. We can’t allow punitive measures, however just, to impede his mobility.” Mosep looked Orrin over. “We’ll give him an hour with the nerve disruptor in the basement. Sir, what shape is your heart in?”

  Orrin’s eyes bulged. “I—I—”

  “I suppose we’ll find out,” Mosep said, nodding to the guards. “One for the show, please.” Then he beckoned toward the droid, standing by the doorway. “I’ll watch the feed from up here. Can you bring me some caf?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  ORRIN LUNGED TO THE right. He’d seen the sealed door there, providing Hutt-sized access to the street. But a Gamorrean waddled in front of the exit, giant blade in giant hand. Another giant lumbered toward Orrin from behind. Bojo Boopa and Jorrk blocked the main entrance and any chance of reaching his comlinks and blaster, still sitting tantalizingly on the table.

  “Time to play ‘Fry the farmer’!” Boopa said.

  “Fry, fry!” Jorrk exclaimed with glee.

  Orrin looked around in desperation. All he saw was Mosep, trying to escape the center of the room before the Gamorrean behemoth stepped on him. “Careful, friends!” Mosep said. “There’s no need to be hasty. Most accidents happen in the workplace!”

  The Gamorrean behind him lunged. Orrin twisted and fat fingers raked at his back. But the movement only brought Orrin into Jorrk’s reach. “Fryfryfry!”

  “No!” Orrin wrested free from the Klatooinian and fell toward the wooden platform. His chest slammed against the tile floor. He tried to wriggle forward, but Jorrk grabbed at his feet. Writhing, the farmer rolled over—and at that instant, he heard a metallic snap. A dark metal shape appeared above the heads of his attackers.

  Klaaang! The heavy metal cage from the rafters crashed down, pummeling one of the advancing Gamorreans, caroming off the green brute, and knocking Jorrk off his feet. Startled, another of the Gamorreans stumbled backward and landed on Mosep. The accountant howled in pain.

  Boopa pointed up into the dome: a square opening now existed in the mesh where the metal prison had been. Still on his back, Orrin saw what Boopa saw: a tan-clad figure high in the lofty shadows, clinging to what remained of the chain.

  “Somebody’s up there!” the Gossam shouted. “Blast him!”

  Forgetting the farmer, Boopa started shooting upward. Jorrk joined him, and then two more guards entered from the hallway, blasters raised. Orrin took a quick look at the figure above; whoever was up there was now in spectacular motion, using the cage’s severed lifting chain to bounce from wall to wall. Orrin couldn’t wait any longer. On his hands and knees, he quickly scuttled up the platform and behind the desk.

  Orrin instantly realized that the Nimbanel’s desk was in the safest place in the room. All the gun-toting thugs were firing upward, through the gap and the meshwork. And while the shots seemingly had no effect on the impossibly nimble intruder, they did get the attention of the dozen or so Kayven whistlers in the dome. Annoyed by the blasterfire, the meter-long reptilian fliers soared downward, swooping through the opening toward anything moving.

  “Yaaaghh!” Jorrk yelled as a whistler latched onto his shoulder and bit. The Gamorreans were squealing, trying to fend off attacking fliers with their axes.

  “The door!” Boopa yelled, cowering behind a statue. “Open the doors to the street!”

  “Only Jabba’s sled triggers the door!” came a response from somewhere in the room.

  Orrin hid under the desk. Now and again, the terrified farmer heard a fleshy thud nearby. He peeked out to search for a weapon but could find only credits, scattered on the floor around him.

  “Close the blast door,” someone yelled. “They’ll get into the house!”

  But Orrin did not hear a door being moved. All he heard were screams, the thunder of feet, and the high-pitched whistles of Kayven predators that had evidently gone off their diets. The ruckus finally faded when the parties involved took the fray into the rest of the residence.

  The room fell silent. Orrin cowered beneath the desk, which had twisted sideways in the bustle. Before he could emerge, however, he saw Boopa creeping out from behind a bronze statue. Wary and frazzled, the Gossam looked up and around. Spying Orrin, he pulled a blaster from one of his holsters.

  “I didn’t do this!” Orrin yelled.

  “I’m sure you didn’t, water man. But somebody’s gonna suffer for this,” Boopa said, climbing the platform. He pointed the blaster down at Orrin, underneath the desk.

  Orrin felt the sudden thump of boots on the desktop above him, out of his sight. He saw Boopa looking up, astonished.

  “You?” Boopa yelled. “I’ve seen you before!” Orrin saw the Gossam raise his blaster—

  —and vanish. Boopa rocketed off his feet and flew toward the far wall. He slammed headfirst into the pourstone surface, a
nd then his limp frame dropped to the floor, like an insect falling off a windshield.

  Orrin blinked. Had a whistler grabbed Boopa? He couldn’t understand how. The creatures weren’t large enough. One settled on Boopa’s body now and began to feast. Hearing no others, Orrin crept out from beneath the desk. There was no one standing atop it. Who had Boopa seen?

  Above, through the square gap in the mesh, the broken chain continued to sway, light from the slit windows glinting off it. One window was open to the outside, but there were no whistlers to escape through it. Apart from the one now busy with Boopa, all were gone.

  Stumbling off the edge of the platform, Orrin witnessed the mess the room had become. Two Gamorreans lay dying, as well as two henchmen Orrin hadn’t seen before. There was his blaster on the floor near the overturned table, along with his white comlink. He could hear the red one, beeping somewhere in the debris; he didn’t bother to look for it. His hat was crushed beneath the cage.

  And then there were the credits, scattered everywhere from Mosep’s desk. Without thinking, Orrin began stuffing his pockets. Some of it was surely his money, after all. No one here would be the—

  “H-hello?”

  Orrin stopped dead at the sound of the voice. From underneath a Gamorrean, Mosep moaned. “Is someone out there? I believe I’m fractured.”

  “I didn’t do this, Mosep,” Orrin said, forgetting the credits and edging toward the door. “I’m just a businessman!”

  Stopping in the doorway, Orrin calculated for a moment, then turned. With a strong heave, he rolled the Gamorrean off Mosep’s body. The Nimbanel gasped for air.

  Weakly, Mosep turned his head to the right. Seeing the mess, he sighed. “I’m beginning to think this particular trap is ill conceived.” He looked back at Orrin. “You have my gratitude,” the accountant wheezed, still prone.

  “And anything else?” Orrin asked, clutching his sides to hide the currency bulging in his pockets.

  “Twenty-four hours.” Mosep beheld the room. “I expect I’ll have some remodeling bills to pay before Jabba returns.”

  Orrin gave the room a last look and ran.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  ANNILEEN CLICKED OFF HER red comlink. “Orrin’s still not answering,” she said. What good was having a direct communications link to the man if he never answered?

  That is, if he could answer. Standing beside her new landspeeder in front of the Mos Eisley Inn, Annileen fought to dispel the thought. Orrin and Ben had been gone for more than an hour. She and Jabe had fetched Kallie, and then she’d dropped Jabe off to retrieve the LiteVan, to give him something to do. Anything to keep the boy from rushing into the town house to save Orrin, if he needed saving.

  Tired of waiting, she pocketed the comlink. “I’m just going to go to the door.”

  Kallie tugged her sleeve. “Wait, Mom. Here comes Jabe!”

  The LiteVan hovered to a stop next to the new landspeeder. “Look who I found,” Jabe said, hopping out. The side door opened, and Mullen and Veeka disembarked.

  “Oh, joy,” Kallie said.

  “Hush.” Annileen walked up to Mullen, who looked more bewildered than usual. “Mullen, have you been able to reach your father?

  The young man mumbled something inaudible. Beside him, Veeka shook her head.

  Annileen pressed them. “What are you all doing in Mos Eisley?”

  Tongue-tied, Mullen looked at his sister. Veeka shrugged, uncomfortably. “We were just, you know, in town.”

  Annileen stared at the pair. “You’re a wonderful help.”

  The Gault siblings clearly knew something, which was an unusual enough condition for them in Annileen’s eyes. But before she could ask further, a horrific screech pierced the air.

  “Look there!” Jabe said, pointing up the street.

  The heavy front door to the town house opened. Half a dozen people of various species bolted from it, running for their lives. In the next second, three winged creatures jetted through the doorway, one after another. They soared low over the heads of panicked pedestrians before angling for the rooftops.

  “Kayven whistlers,” Annileen said, unbelieving. She was on offworld safari, after all, without ever leaving Tatooine!

  Last, Orrin emerged from the town house. Flushed, hair mussed, the man looked as if he’d lost an argument with a Wookiee. He started to head one way up the street before changing his mind and turning in a different direction. He was about to turn yet again when Annileen saw him and called out.

  “Hey!”

  She approached him. “Orrin, what was going on in there? What was that about?”

  Flustered, Orrin looked back at the building and started walking. What passed for police in Mos Eisley arrived, while others gathered to watch the fattened whistlers roosting across the way. Orrin charged through the crowd. Annileen had to walk quickly to keep up. Orrin finally slowed when he reached where Boopa had parked the USV-5, some distance from the town house.

  There, he caught his breath and flashed a beleaguered grin to Annileen. “Well, I’m not selling any water to that place!”

  “Are you joking? Who were those people?”

  “A dead end,” he said, pulling a mirror from inside his landspeeder. “Serves me right for trying to follow every lead.” He combed his hair with his fingers.

  Annileen looked at the others in disbelief.

  “Yeah, uh, it was a business deal,” Mullen said.

  Veeka nodded. “That’s it. Er, I mean, that’s why … we’re here.” She gulped. “Yeah.”

  Orrin rolled his eyes. He moved to straighten his collar. But the act of tugging at his shirt caused dozens of credit chips to tumble from his vest pockets.

  Calwells and Gaults alike gawked. “Orrin, what is this?” Annileen demanded.

  Orrin knelt, red-faced, as he tried to collect the credits from the dusty ground. It was mostly small change, but from a wide variety of systems—and there was a lot of it. “The, uh … client compensated me for my travel.”

  Kallie looked at the pile of currency in his hands and laughed. “Did you come here from Coruscant?”

  The jittery man didn’t answer. He looked up at his son. “Get down here, Mullen, and give me your hat!”

  Mullen stared blankly. “Where’s your hat, Dad?”

  “Shut up and give it to me!”

  Mullen passed his hat to his father. Orrin resumed his frantic gathering, only looking up when he saw motion from the end of the street, in the opposite direction from the town house.

  Orrin dropped the money and stood. “Kenobi,” he said, watching Ben approach.

  Annileen turned. “You’re back!” She looked at Ben and then at the town house. “I thought you were going to check on Orrin?”

  Ben bowed. “It seems you’ve found him first.”

  Annileen stared at him searchingly.

  Jabe shook his head. “Big help you were.”

  Orrin looked at the ground, puzzling things through. His eyes widened. “You were looking for me? You’ve …” He stopped mid-sentence and looked back at the town house in the distance. He turned back to Ben. “You’ve been here all the time?”

  Ben pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m having some repair work done. The Calwells were kind enough to direct me where I was going. And, yes. Annileen thought she saw you earlier. But I got sidetracked by a rather insistent street merchant.” He clasped his hands together. “Has there been some excitement?”

  Orrin glowered at him. “No, none at all.” He turned back to Annileen—and saw the glistening new landspeeder behind her. His face brightened. “Hey, you got it!”

  “It’s what you sent us here for,” she said. “It’s lovely, Orrin. But it costs so much—”

  “It’s nothing. I’m good for it!” Orrin
gestured to his feet, where Mullen and Veeka collected the remaining credits. He stepped over them to join Annileen next to the new vehicle. Putting his left hand on the JG-8’s front steering vane and his right arm around Annileen’s midsection, he managed to hug both her and the landspeeder at the same time. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

  Accepting the hug despite her unease, Annileen nodded. “It is.”

  “And so’s my Annie,” he announced to the others, his arm grasping her more tightly. “A beauty, I mean.”

  Orrin released her and turned her to face him. “Annie, listen. This is important. It’s, uh—why I wanted to be here in the city with you now. I knew Mos Eisley was special for you.” He took her right hand. “That landspeeder is just the start. I want you to marry me.”

  “Marry you!” Annileen’s eyes bulged. What?

  “The whole oasis has had us married for years. What are we waiting for?”

  “We’ve been waiting?” This was news to Annileen. She looked out at the others. Kallie and Jabe looked as astonished as she was; Mullen and Veeka, attentive. And Ben simply watched, emotionless.

  Orrin clutched her hand harder. “I’ve half raised your kids. You’ve helped me raise mine—”

  “Don’t blame that on me!” Annileen yanked her hand away. She looked back at Mullen and Veeka. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Mullen growled. Both Gault siblings held hats full of cash.

  Annileen turned on Orrin. “You have to admit this is strange. Until recently, you’ve never shown the slightest interest in me!”

  “Come on,” Orrin implored. “You know that’s not true!”

  “Serious interest. You’ve joked, sure—”

  “If I joked, it was only because I was afraid,” Orrin said. “Afraid you wouldn’t think I was worthy of taking Dannar’s place.” He looked away. “Well, I’ve been working. All this time I’ve put in improving my ranch, all the work with the Settlers’ Call? It’s been me working on me. For you!”

  “For me?”

  “So you could see what I can be,” he said.