Master of Disguise (9781484719763)

by Watson, Jude

  Concentration is different from thinking, his Master had told him. When you are concentrating hard enough, you shouldn’t be thinking at all.

  It was here in the map room that he had first understood what Obi-Wan had meant.

  He was concentrating so intently on separating the voices that he didn’t hear Obi-Wan come in. His Master could move without making the smallest sound, but Anakin wanted to reach the point where he always knew when Obi-Wan entered the room. He wasn’t there yet.

  Obi-Wan sat down beside him and waited for him to turn.

  “A mission?” Anakin asked hopefully.

  “No, we are at the Temple for a while,” Obi-Wan said. “I haven’t told you something I discovered on Haariden, something I told the Council about. That patrol was paid to attack us by Granta Omega.”

  Anakin felt the nerves inside his body tighten. He realized he had been waiting for this. He had wanted to pursue Omega after their experience on Ragoon-6.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “You had enough to think about.”

  Anakin knew that his Master meant his concern for Darra. He had haunted the med clinic until he knew she would fully recover.

  “Are we going after him?” Anakin asked.

  “Jocasta Nu is helping me do some research,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin realized this wasn’t quite an answer. “In the meantime,” Obi-Wan continued, “I have something for you to do.”

  “I am ready, Master.”

  “I have arranged a private lightsaber tutorial for you with Soara Antana.”

  Anakin felt his heart fall. Shame filled him. “Because of what happened on Haariden.”

  “Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “There is no blame, Padawan. Yet there are things you need to learn. Things that I have not been able to teach you.”

  “There is nothing you can’t teach me, Master,” Anakin argued. But the real reason for Anakin’s disquiet was a secret fear that Obi-Wan planned to leave him behind while he went after Granta Omega. Obi-Wan would do the real work while he remained behind like a schoolboy, taking lessons.

  “This is not your decision, Padawan.” Obi-Wan’s tone was sharp. “This is a great honor for you. Soara rarely takes individual students. She would not agree if she didn’t think you had great potential.”

  Anakin fought with his feelings. He did not want to confess to his Master that he was afraid Obi-Wan would leave him. “Yes, Master.”

  The stern lines of Obi-Wan’s face relaxed into a smile at Anakin’s obedient tone. “You might have fun.”

  Anakin looked at him with such disbelief that Obi-Wan’s smile turned into a laugh.

  Later that afternoon, Anakin tucked the training lightsaber into his belt with distaste. He felt like a young student again. He found himself tugging at his tunic to straighten it before walking into the practice area to meet Soara. Quickly he rumpled it again. He wasn’t a student any longer. He was a Padawan Learner.

  Soara didn’t notice his rumpled tunic or his lack of enthusiasm. She nodded shortly at him. “Let’s go.”

  “Go?” Anakin was puzzled. Lightsaber training had always taken place in the practice room.

  She lifted a corner of her mouth in a small smile. “Do you expect there to be a practice room to fight in on missions?”

  Anakin grinned. “I guess not.” Maybe he would enjoy this after all.

  Soara took him to the landing platform, where he jumped into an airspeeder next to her. Her piloting was as aggressive and graceful as her battle form. She took him to a part of Coruscant he’d never visited, a hundred levels or so below the Temple. Here, an entire quarter of the city was being knocked down in order to build new construction. Half-demolished buildings were surrounded by blocks of duracrete, bundles of durasteel cables, and towers of polished stone blocks.

  Soara parked the speeder and slid out. Anakin jumped out after her and looked around. The work had stopped for the day. The buildings threw deep jagged shadows over the walkways. There had once been an attempt to keep the walkways clean of debris, but the sweeping had been half completed and footing was treacherous. He waited to see what Soara would do.

  Soara did nothing. She picked her way over to a building and looked up at the frame being erected. “Housing,” she said. “Coruscant always needs more housing. Amazing that people keep immigrating here. Do you know that building is the biggest industry on Coruscant?”

  Was he here for an economics lesson? “I didn’t know.”

  He tilted his head back to follow her gaze, following the durasteel frame of the building. Suddenly a shadow off to his left moved, and a figure leaped through the air toward him. Anakin saw a blaze of orange. A lightsaber! He just had time to jump back and fumble for his training lightsaber as he felt the sting of the blow against his forearm.

  “Got ya,” Tru Veld said, grinning. His friend had come at him from the high steel doorway behind him. He bounced back on his flexible legs and saluted Anakin with a lightsaber flourish. He, too, was using a training lightsaber—able to defend, but not to harm.

  Confused, Anakin glanced at Soara, his lightsaber in his hand.

  “Do you expect your attacker to announce himself?” she asked.

  Tru came toward him again. Anakin somersaulted backward and then twisted to come at Tru from the left. He sliced the hem of Tru’s tunic.

  “Missed me,” Tru said, dancing backward. His silver eyes gleamed. He was having fun.

  Anakin reversed. His lightsaber hit Tru’s. Smoke rose, and Anakin almost stumbled when Tru ducked and rushed at him, surprising him.

  Tru might be having fun, but he was serious.

  Anakin had barely missed being stung by Tru’s blow. He emptied his mind of his surprise at Tru’s appearance. He had to concentrate in order to gather in what he thought of as his battle mind. His attention expanded to include everything around him. And yet his focus was now entirely on Tru. Everything he knew about Tru clicked in and became information he could use.

  Tru was a Teevan, and thus his limbs were more flexible than Anakin’s.

  Tru never played a game he wasn’t certain he would win.

  Tru’s left hand was stronger than his right.

  Tru liked to choose the rhythm of the battle.

  Anakin moved to confuse and unsettle his friend. He fought aggressively, then stepped back to lure Tru forward. He landed a blow on Tru’s arm.

  Normally, a Jedi Master would announce points when blows were struck. The winning blow would be to the neck. Soara did not. He knew she was watching, but he tried not to think about it. Still, he felt her circling, watching them from every angle.

  Anakin used the ground. While he moved, he noticed everything—the cables, the blocks of stone, the tiniest pebble on the ground, the hydrospanner abandoned on the top of a block of duracrete. Someone’s lunch bucket left on a grassy area by the walkway. He drove Tru steadily backward. Tru suddenly leaped high above and grabbed a pole with only his legs. On his backward swing, he struck out at Anakin.

  It was a surprising move, and Anakin hadn’t expected it. His eyes gleamed as he leaped to avoid Tru. Tru swung around the pole twice while Anakin dodged, wedged between a half-built wall and a deep pit. He slashed at Tru, who suddenly leaped off the pole and landed behind Anakin.

  Perfect. Anakin whirled and drove Tru back onto the grass. Tru’s foot hit the lunch bucket and he stumbled. His lightsaber was in his left hand from his twirl around the pole, and Anakin saw it wobble.

  It was time for Anakin to move in with the killing blow, the sting of the training lightsaber. All he had to do was step forward and lightly touch Tru’s neck.

  But he hated to win the battle based on a moment of awkwardness on Tru’s part, even if he himself had engineered it. He would embarrass his friend in front of Soara Antana. Instead, he hesitated a fraction of a second, long enough for Tru to regain some sense of balance. Then they fought on.

  The moon was rising and they were both drenched in sweat when Soara called a
halt. “Let’s call it a draw.”

  Anakin slipped the lightsaber into his belt, satisfied. He knew he had fought well. Tru brought out the best in him.

  “You can go, Tru,” Soara said. “Thank you.”

  Tru grinned at Anakin. “Good fight. See you back at the Temple.”

  Soara did not move. Anakin stood, breathing heavily, waiting for her critique. He knew a few places where he could have fought better. She would not say anything that would surprise him.

  “I called it a draw, but you lost,” Soara said. “And you lost in the worst sort of way.”

  Anakin looked at her with new attention, surprised. “What?”

  “If you want to become great, you must fight without emotion,” Soara said. “You obviously have not learned this. You must fight without anger, without fear, without rage. Without ego.”

  “Without ego? But—”

  “No buts. Listen. On Haariden, you made the same mistake. Because you know Darra, you rushed in to protect her. Today you protected Tru. You think you are doing this as a mark of friendship. But you’re really doing it to boost your own ego.”

  “My own ego?” Anakin was astonished.

  Soara crossed her arms. “You know, Anakin, things will go a lot faster if you don’t repeat everything I say. Yes, your own ego. You think you’re a better fighter than your friends. You think you’re faster. You think you need to go easy on them. Let me tell you something. You’re not better. As a matter of fact, you’re a good deal worse.”

  The words stung. Anakin felt his face grow hot. The evening wind was cool and drying his sweat.

  Soara whirled and kicked backward at his hand. He did not even feel the blow, but his lightsaber was suddenly shooting out of his hand and clattering to the stone pavement.

  “And another thing,” she said. “Never let down your guard.”

  Anakin picked up the hilt of the lightsaber and stuck it in his belt. He vowed to himself that Soara Antana would not take him by surprise again. He would use what she gave him. He would absorb her hard words and her lessons. By the end of this tutorial, he would change her opinion about him. He would be the best Padawan she’d ever taught.

  He slipped into the med clinic. The light tubes were powered down to a soft glow. He walked as quietly as he could to the side of Darra’s med couch. She looked small and helpless, still hooked up to monitoring machines. Her eyes were closed.

  Her mouth curved into a smile. “Hello, Anakin,” she said without opening her eyes.

  “I came to say good night. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes. Much.” She opened her eyes and glanced at him. “Better than you look, anyway. What have you been doing?”

  “A private tutorial with your Master.”

  She gave a sympathetic groan. “Ooh. Sorry.”

  He crouched down so that they were at eye level. “She’s very tough.”

  “The toughest.”

  “But I can learn.”

  “If you listen. She’ll push you hard, and then she’ll tell you something strange, something you don’t want to understand. That’s what she wants. The more tired you are, the emptier you are. That’s when she really starts to work.”

  “Lucky me,” Anakin said with a grimace. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened on Haariden. She told me it was my ego. She was right.”

  “It’s okay,” Darra said. “Now I have something to impress the younger kids with. I was wounded in battle.”

  “I’m here to make you a promise,” Anakin said.

  “Don’t,” Darra said, rising on her elbows. “I know what you’re going to say, and you can’t promise such a thing. Besides, I can get my lightsaber back myself.”

  “But I’m the reason you lost it.”

  “I’m the reason I lost it,” Darra said firmly. “I’m the one who dropped it. Did you ever think it was your ego that wants to get it back?” Suddenly she slumped against the pillow. “Do me a favor. Don’t argue with me. I’m too tired.”

  Anakin saw the exhaustion in her face she had tried to hide. “Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like some juice, or some food, or some music?”

  Darra’s eyelids fluttered closed. “Just one thing,” she said. “Stay with me until I fall asleep. It’s lonely here.”

  “I will.” Anakin shifted his weight so that he was sitting on the floor. He leaned against the sleep couch next to her head. He knew she could feel the pressure of his body, and that would make her feel safe. He sat there until her breathing slowed and he knew she was asleep.

  “I promise you, Darra,” he whispered. “I will return your lightsaber to you. It is not my ego. It is my promise.”

  Chapter Eight

  Obi-Wan hurried into the library. It had been restored to its usual pristine state. Jocasta Nu was at a datascreen, working.

  “What is it?” she asked, looking up for a moment and then back down at her screen.

  “You sent for me,” Obi-Wan said.

  “Right.” Jocasta clicked off the screen. “I have good news and bad news. Good news—I found out Granta Omega’s listed birthplace. It’s Coruscant.”

  “Coruscant?” Obi-Wan grew excited. That meant he could investigate a good deal of Omega’s background without leaving the planet. A being’s records were always stored on his or her home planet, and Coruscant was especially careful about storing every scrap of information. Thousands were employed in record-keeping.

  Then he remembered Jocasta had said there was bad news as well. “And?”

  “I can find no record of his birth. Nothing. And you know Coruscant is very organized about these things. So either he lied and was born somewhere else, or he lives under an assumed name.”

  “In other words, we know nothing more,” Obi-Wan said, sinking down in a chair. “Every time I think I have a lead, it disappears. I’m left with nothing.”

  Suddenly holofiles began to zoom from Jocasta’s fingers toward him.

  “What is this?” Obi-Wan said.

  “You say you have nothing on Omega,” she said. “I’m showing you differently.”

  “But I’ve already seen these. They don’t say anything!”

  “They say many things,” Jocasta said, exasperated. “You just can’t put the pieces together.”

  Obi-Wan almost smiled. Jocasta reminded him of Qui-Gon. What would his Master say if he were here?

  Qui-Gon had always been better at research, at putting pieces together. He was always able to connect the dry facts with the living person. That would lead him to motives and reasons, and soon he would have a picture of what he was looking for.

  What is the emotion here? he would say. What does this being want more than anything? What does he need?

  How am I supposed to know that, Qui-Gon?

  “Start with what you know for sure,” Obi-Wan suddenly blurted. “That’s what Qui-Gon always said.”

  Jocasta sniffed. “Exactly.”

  “I know he has a vendetta against the Jedi,” Obi-Wan said. “He hates us. I know he was on Haariden.” Obi-Wan straightened. “I know he was on Haariden!” he repeated. “And it couldn’t have been because the Jedi were there. It would have been impossible for him to plan the attack beforehand.”

  “Not impossible,” Jocasta corrected. “There is little that is impossible.”

  Now she sounded like Yoda. “But we received the summons and left within one hour,” Obi-Wan said. “Improbable, then. No, I think he was on Haariden for another reason. When he discovered the Jedi were there, he saw a way to make trouble for us.” He began to search randomly through the holofiles. “He made his fortune by buying up minerals on different worlds and creating shortages,” he said. “We know that, too.”

  “Let me get the file on Haariden,” Jocasta said. Her eyes were alight with interest now. She quickly accessed a file and began to flip through it. “Interesting. Do you know why the two factions on Haariden have been fighting this time?”

  “Land disputes,” Obi-Wan said.


  “Yes, but this isn’t about territory. It’s about what is underneath the land. Traces of titanite have been found.”

  “Titanite? I don’t think I know it.”

  “That’s because it’s extremely rare,” Jocasta said. “Not only that, it’s very hard to mine. It’s usually buried so deep near the core that it costs more to extract it than it is worth.”

  “What is it used for?” Obi-Wan asked.

  “Until recently, not much,” Jocasta said. “But in the last couple of years, it’s been discovered that when titanite is synthesized, a substance is extracted that is one of the essential ingredients of bacta.”

  Obi-Wan shook his head. “Bacta…” He began to flip through the files in front of him. “Here it is. One of Omega’s vast land holdings is on the planet Thyferra. That’s the only place where the alazhi plant grows. Alazhi lotion is the main ingredient in bacta.”

  “So if he had alazhi lotion and the titanite substance…” Jocasta said, her voice trailing off.

  Obi-Wan and Jocasta stared at each other as the conclusion struck them.

  “He could corner the galactic market on bacta,” Obi-Wan said.

  “This is getting very interesting,” Jocasta murmured.

  “When was the titanite found on Haariden?” Obi-Wan asked.

  “Only a few months ago,” Jocasta said. “That’s why the fighting began again. It’s also one of the reasons the scientists were sent there. Haariden was included on the mapping expedition for precisely that reason. The Senate felt that if it had a complete picture of where the titanite deposits were, it could persuade the two sides to come to an agreement.”

  “Did the scientists make a final report?”

  “Yes, but it was inconclusive. They couldn’t conduct the tests they needed to because the fighting moved too close.”

  “Maybe Omega wanted that to happen,” Obi-Wan said. “Maybe he didn’t want the report to get back to the Senate.”

  “He would need to make his own tests, then,” Jocasta said. “He’d need to have his own scientific team. That would be a hard thing to keep secret on Haariden.”