“Excuse me, Master, but I was working, not playing,”
Anakin said stiffly. “The Brolf we’re looking for is named Jhompfi, he lives in the Covered Brush house ring, and he’s supposedly using the burst thrusters on a speeder bike he uses to smuggle rissle sticks out to the Karts.”
Obi-Wan stared at his Padawan. “When did you get all that?”
“When you were wandering around the neighborhood looking for clues,” Anakin said. It was hard to sound hurt and smug at the same time, but the boy managed to pull it off “Those were the only times he’d talk to me.” He wrinkled his rose. “I don’t think he trusts grown-ups very much.”
“You should have said something the minute you had that information,” Obi-Wan said tartly, slipping the guide card into his datapad and keying for a house ring search. “Or hadn’t it occurred to you that Lorana might be in trouble?”
“No, but it occurred to me that if we left too suddenly, Duefgrin might have called Jhompfi and warned him,” Anakin retorted.
“Mind your place, Padawan,” Obi-Wan warned the boy. It was a warning he seemed to be delivering more and more often these days.
Anakin gave a theatrical sigh. “My apologies, Master.”
A map appeared on the datapad’s display, showing theway to the Covered Brush house ring. “There it is,” Obi-Wan said, angling the datapad so that Anakin could see.
“That’s not the direction he was going when he left Duefgrin,” Anakin pointed out uneasily.
“I know,” Obi-Wan said grimly. “But right now, it’s all we’ve got. Let’s go take a look.”
The neighborhood where the Covered Brush house ring was located was similar to many Obi-Wan had seen in his journeys around the Republic. It was poor but clean, a place where the people worked hard for what little they had but nevertheless worked equally hard to maintain their pride and dignity.
Some Jedi, he knew, treated such places and people with disdain or condescension. For his own part, he far preferred them to Coruscant’s upper-level inhabitants with their immensely greater wealth but shifting-sand ethics. Most of the people in these places were friendlier and more forthright, without hidden political agendas or the lust for position and power.
At the very least, if someone here wanted to stab someone, he used a knife and not a deceitful smile.
“Where do we start?” Anakin murmured as they stopped beside one of the hedges across the street from the building.
“You could start by staying out of my way,” a voice murmured from somewhere behind them.
Obi-Wan spun around, his hand darting beneath his tunic to his lightsaber as a face rose from concealment behind a section of hedge they’d just passed.
One look was all he needed. “Hello, Riske,” he said, releasing his grip on his lightsaber. “Imagine meeting you here.”
“I could say the same thing,” Riske said sourly, jerkinghis head toward his side of the hedge. “You want to step into my office a minute?”
Obi-Wan glanced around. There were only a few Brolfi still out in the gathering dusk, and none of them was looking in their direction. Tapping Anakin on the arm, he did a quick backward leap over the hedge. He landed in a crouch, Anakin right beside him.
“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” Riske said as he waddled over to join them, keeping his head down. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re looking for a Brolf named Jhompfi,” Obi-Wan told him. “He had someone steal a pair of burst thrusters for him this afternoon. We were hoping to ask him why.”
“While you’re at it, you could also ask about the explosives that disappeared from a mining site one of his close friends was working at,” Riske said darkly. “Or about the stabilization system another friend apparently borrowed from his boss’s hobby swoop, or the alloy packing cylinders that were lifted from another work site. You seeing a pattern here?”
Obi-Wan grimaced. “Someone’s building a homemade missile.”
“Or two or three of them,” Riske said. “And it doesn’t look like either of us will be able to ask Jhompfi about it, since he and all his friends seem to have disappeared.”
“Wonderful,” Obi-Wan said, peering over the hedge.
“Yeah, that’s the word I was thinking,” Riske said. “So what’s your interest in him?”
“Our friend—the Padawan you ran into earlier—was following him,” Obi-Wan said. “She’s disappeared, and I can’t raise her on the comlink.”
“Too bad,” Riske said. “Nice kid, but not much combat savvy.”
“We’re not ready to give up on her quite yet,” Obi-Wan growled. “You have any idea where Jhompfi might have gone to ground?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be hanging around here,” Riske countered. “I’ve got people checking out the Mining Guild centers, but if Jhompfi’s not coming home I doubt he’d be stupid enough to go to any of them.”
“So what do we do?” Anakin asked.
“What I’m going to do is head back to the hotel and make sure we’ve got our security set up,” Riske said. “I’m figuring it’ll come tonight—the duracrete slugs always disappear just before they drop the house on you.”
“Or they might try for the city administration center tomorrow,” Obi-Wan suggested.
“Unlikely,” Riske said. “Jhompfi’s hardly going to attack a place where his own guildmaster is busy negotiating for him. No, it’s got to be the hotel, or maybe the route to the admin center in the morning.”
Unfortunately, Riske’s analysis made sense. “Okay,”
Obi-Wan said. “You tie down that end, and we’ll keep looking for Lorana.”
“Good luck.” Riske shook his head. “You know, I almost planted a tracker on her earlier, just so I could make sure she was staying out of my way. I wish now I had.”
“I wish you had, too,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll just have to manage on our own.”
“Jedi are supposed to be good at such things,” Riske said, pulling out a data card and handing it over. “This’ll give you a direct connection to my comlink, running it through one of our encryptions. Call me if you hear anything, okay?”
“I will,” Obi-Wan promised, sliding the card into his comlink pouch.
Riske nodded and moved away. He reached the far end of the hedge, glanced over it, then slipped back around and headed off at a brisk walk. “Now what?” Anakin asked.
“We’d better let Master C’baoth know what happened,”
Obi-Wan said reluctantly. “He and Lorana may be close enough for him to be able to detect her Force-signature.”
“Maybe,” Anakin said doubtfully as they returned to the end of the hedge and back onto the walkway. “You know, maybe we all should carry trackers.”
Obi-Wan looked sideways at him. “I can think of at least one person who ought to have one,” he muttered under his breath. “What was that?”
Obi-Wan shook his head. “Never mind.”
C’baoth, when they finally raised him on the comlink, wasn’t at all happy about being disturbed. He was even less happy when he heard their story “For the moment we’ll pass over the fact that you involved yourself with the Barlok situation against my direct order,” the Jedi Master rumbled, and Obi-Wan could imagine his eyes flashing from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “The important point right now is that you’ve put my Padawan at risk.”
“I understand your anger, Master C’baoth—” Obi-Wan began.
“Anger?” C’baoth cut him off. “There is no anger, Master Kenobi. Not for a Jedi.”
“My apologies,” Obi-Wan said, trying hard to suppress some annoyance of his own. A situation like this, and all the man could do was recite Jedi canon? “It was an improper choice of words.”
“Better,” C’baoth rumbled. “What about you, Padawan Skywalker? Have you any thoughts?”
Obi-Wan angled the comlink toward the boy. “Notreally, Master C’baoth,” Anakin said. “Mostly, I’m concerned about Lorana’s safety. I’m worried that she may have been killed.”
For a moment C’baoth didn’t answer. “No, she’s not dead,” he said at last. “I would have felt such a disturbance in the Force.”
“Then you can locate her?” Anakin asked hopefully.
“The one does not necessarily follow from the other,”
C’baoth told him. “Unfortunately, I can’t pick up her Force-signature at the moment. Master Kenobi, you said you’d spoken to the boy who obtained the boosters. He might know where Jhompfi’s favorite hiding spots are.”