by Jude Watson
Didi shot Qui-Gon a warning look that she did not catch.
"Just a friendly visit," Qui-Gon answered. "You're right, Astri. It's
been too long since I visited your father."
"Have you seen the improvements?" Astri asked. "I painted everything
myself. It was hard to persuade my father to spruce up the place."
"I don't want to scare the regular customers away," Didi said.
"If only we could," Astri groaned.
"I don't know what was wrong with my cooking," Didi went on. "Nobody
ever complained."
"Sure," Astri said cheerfully. "They were too busy being sick.
Meanwhile, I've decided we must spend money on new napkins, and cloths for
the tables - "
"Who needs a cloth? It just gets dirty!"
Astri turned to Qui-Gon and spread her hands. "Do you see my problem?
I want to make the place better, and all he does is complain. He welcomes
back the dregs of the galaxy. He promised to give up buying and selling
information, but he can't resist feeding them. How can I attract a better
class of customer when the place is full of gangsters?"
"Everyone likes to eat with gangsters," Didi observed. "It adds spice
to the food."
"I'll add the spice, thank you very much," Astri said crisply. "I've
landed a big client, Father. This could be our big break. There's a medical
conference coming to the Senate, and scientists are arriving from all over
the galaxy. Guess who booked the caf© for a small dinner?"
"The Chancellor?" Didi guessed.
"Not yet," Astri said with a grin. "Jenna Zan Arbor!"
Obi-Wan had heard of Jenna Zan Arbor. Years ago, as a young
scientist, she had achieved fame by inventing a vaccine for a world
threatened by a deadly space virus. She focused her attention on helping
planets with low levels of technology. Her last project was to triple the
food supply on the famine-stricken planet of Melasaton.
"Who?" Didi asked.
"Jenna Zan Arbor!" Astri cried. "She reserved the entire caf© for her
party!"
"Did you say elegant?" Didi asked. "Now that sounds expensive."
"Just... don't... ruin it," Astri said through her teeth. Then she
picked up the soup and left the room, curls bouncing, apron swinging, and
soup dribbling onto the floor.
"Isn't she marvelous?" Didi sighed. "But she is driving me into
bankruptcy."
"You promised her not to buy and sell information anymore," Qui-Gon
said.
"Well, I suppose I did, yes. But can I help it if this one or that
one whispers something to me in exchange for a few credits or a meal?"
"Maybe Didi should go away for awhile," Obi-Wan suggested. "Some
other planet where the bounty hunter won't find him."
"Now that's an idea!" Didi said cheerfully. "Running away is just my
style!" Then he frowned. "But I don't like to leave Astri."
"Of course not," Qui-Gon agreed.
"She will spend all my money," Didi said. Qui-Gon sighed. "I don't
think you should run away, Didi. The bounty hunter is undoubtedly an expert
tracker. And it is better that we face the problem here and now. Obi-Wan
and I will do some investigating for you."
"But we're due back at the Temple!" Obi-Wan protested. "Tahl said
Yoda was expecting us."
"We can spare a few hours," Qui-Gon said. "I'll contact Yoda on the
way and tell him why we are delaying our return. He'll understand. He's a -
"
" - friend of Didi's," Obi-Wan supplied.
Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled. "Besides, it will give you a chance to see
the seamier side of Coruscant."
"Just what I always wanted," Obi-Wan grumbled.
"And when you return, I'll treat you to a delicious meal!" Didi
announced.
Obi-Wan looked doubtful. "As long as you're not the one to cook it,"
he said.
CHAPTER 5
Armed with a good description of Fligh, the informant, Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan headed to the Senate. "Just ask around," Didi had told them.
"Everyone knows Fligh."
They walked through the main entrance of the Senate rotunda. The
press of beings inside worked against the calm surroundings to create a
sense of controlled chaos. Obi-Wan was jostled and bumped by quick-moving
Senatorial aides and consorts of various species. Hover-cams buzzed
overhead, heading to the vast interior amphitheater to record the
proceedings. Guards dressed in royal blue robes strode by purposefully.
Small caf©s were tucked into overhangs along the exterior wall, some
more populated than others. Qui-Gon stopped to inquire at several of them,
and then moved on.
"Didi is right," he told Obi-Wan. "Everyone knows Fligh. They just
don't know where he is."
At last they found him in one of the small pocket cafes. This one was
deserted. It was past time for midday meal, and the Senate was in session.
Fligh sat at a small table, nursing a glass of muja juice. He was a
spindly creature with a long face, prominent ears, and one green prosthetic
eye.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan sat at the table. "Didi sent us," Qui-Gon said.
Fligh looked surprised. Then he licked his lips. "Didn't know Jedi
trafficked in information. Buy, sell, or trade?"
"We are not here to make a deal," Qui-Gon said. "We need you to tell
us how you found out about the two pieces of information you just sold to
Didi."
Fligh wrapped his long, thin fingers around his glass and looked at
them slyly. "Why should I tell you? What's in it for me, I ask?"
"You would be helping Didi," Qui-Gon said. "He is in trouble. And if
you chose not to help him, I would not be pleased." Qui-Gon gave Fligh a
level stare.
Fligh choked on his muja juice, then broke out into nervous laughter.
"You are a friend of Didi! I am a friend of Didi! We are all friends! There
you go! Of course I want you to be pleased. I'll tell you everything you
wish to know. May I say that I am both helpful and discreet? And generous.
May I offer you two some muja juice? Unfortunately at the moment I am out
of credits, but I would be happy to order them for you."
Qui-Gon shook his head. "Just tell us what we want to know, Fligh.
How did you find out about the Tech Raiders?"
Fligh shrugged. "Easy. One hears things if one pays attention. And
there you go."
"You just heard it in the air?" Qui-Gon asked.
"I can see you're a stickler for details," Fligh said, leaning back
and chuckling at Qui-Gon. "Okay, okay. I heard it from their representative
on Coruscant. Helb is the broker for stolen tech equipment. One meets him
in the Splendor Tavern, he makes the deal. He used to make deals at Didi's,
but the lovely Astri took care of that. Too bad - Didi always gave me juice
for free." Fligh sighed at the lost opportunity.
"What about your information about Senator S'orn?" Qui-Gon asked.
"One has to protect one's sources, you know," Fligh stalled.
Qui-Gon gave him a stern look. It was all he had to do. The cowardly
Fligh immediately backtracked.
"Okay, okay, I can see you'll make me talk. I got hold of a
confidential memo written by S'orn
herself announcing her resignation. It
isn't scheduled to be released until next week. Naturally one could not let
such a find go to waste."
"And how did you get this memo?" Qui-Gon asked.
"How does one learn things? Things happen. A durasheet falls into the
trash bin, someone plucks it out, passes it along..." Fligh shrugged. "It's
the way one has to work. A little here, a little there. A favor here, a
trade there, and there you go." He turned to Obi-Wan. "Do you like my eye?"
The abrupt question took Obi-Wan by surprise. "Which one?" he asked
politely.
"The green one, of course!" Fligh said, pointing to it. "I lost my
own in a little dustup with some Hutts. Isn't it a beauty?"
"It's very attractive," Obi-Wan said.
"Very nice," Qui-Gon offered, when Fligh turned to him.
"You see? There you go - a trade. A little information goes here, a
little goes there, and I get an eye! How else does one survive on
Coruscant?"
"One could get a job," Qui-Gon pointed out. "One could, if one were a
different being," Fligh agreed. "However, one is not." He shrugged again.
"I do the best I can. On my own since I was knee-high, I learned how to get
by. Didi is my friend. He has done much for me, and Astri is in my heart as
well. I'm sorry Didi is in trouble. I will try to help, Jedi. This I
promise."
"I think it better if you stay out of it," Qui-Gon said in a kindly
tone, for Fligh's tone was sincere. "We don't know what we're dealing with
yet.
"Then call on me when you need me. I will do my best, which I am sure
you can guess is not much." Fligh cackled. "But there you go."
Qui-Gon stood. "We might have to return and ask you more questions."
"I am always here," Fligh said. He waved at the empty caf© and his
jar of muja juice. "Where else can one find such excitement?"
Since they were already in the Senate building, Qui-Gon decided that
their next stop should be Senator Uta S'orn's office.
The outer room was empty, so Qui-Gon knocked on an inner door.
"Telissa?" The door was flung open. A Belascan female stood, one hand
on her hip, wearing the trademark Belascan headdress of wrapped jeweled
cloth, as well as an irritable expression. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were
my assistant." Her glittering eyes swept them, and her expression changed.
"Oh. Jedi. Excuse my rudeness."
"May we speak with you for a moment?" Qui-Gon asked.
"I am very busy... all right. Enter." Senator S'orn swiveled and
walked back into her private office. She waved them to two chairs set in
front of her desk.
Qui-Gon seated himself and began with preliminaries. "You are
resigning next week, Senator S'orn."
She looked startled. "But how do you know this?"
"The information is out there," Qui-Gon said. "It is for sale. I do
not know if anyone has bought it yet, but no doubt someone will. We cannot
prevent that."
Senator S'orn dropped her head in her hands. "My data pad. It was
stolen at the Senate commissary. My resignation announcement was on it.
Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon. Obviously, Fligh had lied about how he'd
received the information.
She raised her head. "Disaster. I'm sponsoring legislation in two
days. If this gets out beforehand, I'll have no support."
"Did you see anyone nearby who could have stolen it?" Qui-Gon asked.
She shook her head. "Just the usual Senate crowd." She laced her
fingers together and bowed her head for a moment in thought. Then she
raised her head and put both hands flat on the desk. "Decision. I must
announce my resignation immediately. Then I can rally supporters to the
legislation by saying they must help me with my legacy. I'll play on their
sympathies." She drummed her fingers on the desk as she calculated her
strategy. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere as she said absently, "Thank you
for telling me."
Qui-Gon stood. "Thank you for your time."
She did not say good-bye or acknowledge them again. Her mind was
already working to fix her problem. Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon out the door.
"Why didn't you ask her about Didi?" he asked Qui-Gon.
"Because it wouldn't have gotten me anywhere. If she put a death mark
on Didi's head, she would hardly admit it," Qui-Gon said. "And I can't see
how she could trace the theft of the data pad to Didi. Do you?"
"Only if she's lying," Obi-Wan said after a moment. "If she'd seen
Fligh steal it, it would be easy to trace him to Didi. But why go after
Didi, and not Fligh?"
Obi-Wan thought this over some more. He felt at a disadvantage. Qui-
Gon seemed to have an insight into the hearts and minds of beings that he
did not.
"Still, Senator S'orn's distress seemed sincere to me," he said
slowly. "She was barely polite and not terribly nice, but not evil. Just
busy."
"A typical Senator," Qui-Gon said with a half smile.
"She seemed surprised that the information was out," Obi-Wan said.
"Yes, she did," Qui-Gon mused. "Unless she is a very good actress.
But she did seem sincerely upset."
"Why did Fligh tell us that an assistant got her announcement out of
the trash?" Obi-Wan asked. "It's obviously not true."
"He didn't actually say that, Padawan," Qui-Gon said. "He just
indicated that as one of many ways he could have gotten the information.
No, Fligh stole the data pad. He would not want to admit that to us,
however."
"This seems like a dead end to me," Obi-Wan said in conclusion.
"Senator S'orn certainly doesn't look like a murderer."
Qui-Gon's blue eyes were keen. "Tell me, Padawan. What does a
murderer look like?"
CHAPTER 6
The wide Senate doors at the south exit were crowded with beings
hurrying inside and outside the building. They were all intent on getting
somewhere fast, some of them barking into comlinks, others with harried,
preoccupied looks on their faces.
"Now we need to find the Splendor Tavern," Obi-Wan said.
"I know where it is," Qui-Gon answered, striking off to his left down
a small alley.
Obi-Wan lengthened his stride to match his Master's. "How do you
know?" he asked curiously.
"Because I have had occasion to go there," Qui-Gon responded. "It's
where connections are made for the black market. If one needs weapons or an
illegally modified speeder, or wants to gamble, one goes to the Splendor.
Sometimes on a mission you need help from the worst sorts as well as
the best."
Qui-Gon led him farther into a section he had never been in before,
down many levels closer to the planet's surface. If Obi-Wan had been asked
to describe Coruscant, he would have talked of a gleaming planet, all
silver and white, with wide walkways and space lanes that flashed with
agile crafts zooming toward their destinations. He barely knew the other
Coruscant, below the levels of the Senate and the beautiful residences
above. This one was made up of narrow alleys and cluttered streets, with
dark shadows and furtive creatures who darted away when they saw the Jedi
&nbs
p; striding toward them. Games of chance were played on stoops and in outdoor
caf©s. Weapons were placed on tables as warnings for cheaters.
Qui-Gon stopped in front of a metal building with a sagging roof. An
old readout sign swung in front, occasionally banging against the rough
metal walls with a screeching sound. Half of its letters had burned out, so
it read: s P D O R. The windows were shuttered, and only a thin strip of
light came through.