Qennto said. “I’ve been there a few times—there’s a small but stable market for their art, mostly in the Corporate Sector.”
“What did Commander Thrawn mean about fear of physical objects?” Car’das asked.
“Their world is sprinkled with thousands of rock pillars,” Qennto said. “Most of the best food plants grow on the tops. Unfortunately, so does a nasty predator avian. It makes for—well, for pretty much just what he said.”
“And you got all that from a single sculpt?” Maris asked, gazing at Thrawn with a strange look on her face.
“Actually, no,” the Chiss assured her. “There are—let me see—twelve more examples of their artwork.” He pointed to two other areas of the room.
“You sure?” Car’das asked, frowning at the indicated sculpts and flats. “They don’t look at all alike to me.”
“They were created by different artists,” Thrawn said.
“But the species is the same.”
“This is really weird,” Qennto said, shaking his head.
“Like some crazy Jedi thing.”
“Jedi?” Thrawn asked.
“They’re the guardians of the peace in the Republic,”
Maris told him. “Probably the only reason we’ve held together as long as we have. They’re very powerful, very noble people.”
Qennto caught Car’das’s eye, his nose wrinkling slightly. His opinion of Jedi, Car’das knew, was considerably lower than his girlfriend’s.
“They sound intriguing.” Thrawn nodded toward the sculpt. “I presume these Pashvi won’t have put up muchresistance to Vagaari raids?”
“Hardly,” Qennto confirmed grimly. “They’re a pretty agreeable people. Lousy at fighting.”
“And your Republic and these Jedi don’t protect them?”
“The Jedi are spread way too thin,” Car’das said.
“Anyway, Wild Space isn’t actually part of the Republic.”
“Even if it were, the government is too busy with its own intrigues to bother with little things like life-and-death situations,” Marls said, a bitter edge to her voice.
“I see,” Thrawn said. “Well. Let us continue our survey, and please inform me if you find anything else from your region of space.”
He looked at Marls. “And as we search, perhaps you’ll tell me more about these Jedi.”
9
Guildmaster Gilfrome’s here,“ Anakin’s voice said softly from Obi-Wan’s comlink. ”just coming up the steps to the east door.“
“Magistrate Argente’s here, too,” Obi-Wan told him, gazing down from the administration building’s west door as Argente climbed up the stairs on that side, his people pressed protectively around him. “And I see Master C’baoth and Lorana approaching through the marketplace.”
“So that’s it?” Anakin asked.
Obi-Wan scratched his check thoughtfully. The expected attack on Magistrate Argente hadn’t come during the night, nor had it been launched on the trip here to the conference room.
Now, with the miners’ representative on the scene, theconspirators’ last chance was gone, at least until the negotiators broke for lunch. “It is for now, anyway,” he told Anakin. “But stay alert.”
Argente and his people reached the top of the stairs, and Obi-Wan bowed in greeting. The group brushed past without a single acknowledging glance and disappeared inside.
Suppressing a flicker of annoyance, Obi-Wan turned his attention to C’baoth and Lorana as they started up the stairs.
Lorana, he noted, was a bit pale, her steps a little tentative. But her expression was determined, and as they reached the top of the steps she smiled a bit awkwardly at him. “Master Kenobi,”
she said, nodding. “I never had a chance to properly thank you for what you and Anakin did for me yesterday.”
“And this is also not the time,” C’baoth put in.
Nevertheless, there was a flicker of approval in his eyes as the two Jedi exchanged nods. “There is still danger, both to the negotiators and the negotiations themselves. Stay here with Master Kenobi and watch the crowd for familiar faces.”
“Yes, Master C’baoth,” Lorana said.
With another nod at Obi-Wan, C’baoth strode past through the doorway, leaving the two of them alone. “How do you feel?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Much better, thank you,” Lorana said. “I really don’t know how much good I can do here, though,” she added, turning toward the marketplace spread out before them at the bottom of the steps. “I only saw three of the conspirators.”
“That’s three more than the rest of us have,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “Not counting the ones already in custody, of course.”
“Maybe their arrest scared off the others.”
“It may have scared them away from a missile attack, but they’re not going to just give up and go away,” Obi-Wan said. “They seem obsessed with what they see as the Corporate Alliance’s attempt to steal their planet’s wealth, and once aperson’s obsessed he or she doesn’t listen to logic anymore. Sheer momentum will carry them the rest of the way through this.”
Lorana shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand that kind of thinking.”
“You need to learn to understand it,” Obi-Wan told her. “Obsession is something that can happen to even the strongest person, and for the best of motives.” He gestured.
“Still, with you and me at this door, Anakin and Riske at the other, and the police and the Corporate Alliance’s security watching the sky, we should be able to stop whatever they throw at us.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lorana murmured. “If not, Master C’baoth will never let us hear the end of it.”
Seated on his hotel room balcony, Doriana smiled down at the scene below him. The players had assembled, and it was time for the performance to begin.
Picking up his comlink, he keyed it on and punched in the proper activation code. Then, setting the comlink aside, he settled down to watch.
Even stretched out to the Force, Lorana’s only warning was a burst of commotion at the leftmost edge of the marketplace, a sudden movement of shoppers as they scattered away from one of the booths. “Something’s happening,” she warned, pointing.
The words were barely out of her mouth when the booth erupted in a flash of light and a burst of smoke. “Watch out!” Obi-Wan barked, the snap-hiss of his lightsaber sounding behind her.
Lorana yanked out her own lightsaber, igniting it as she tried to pierce the expanding smoke cloud. As far as she could tell, nothing else seemed to be happening. “To the right!”
Obi-Wan warned.
Lorana turned; and to her horror she saw a silverycylinder streak out of another of the booths, flying a bare meter above the ground.
Coming straight toward them.
“I’ve got it,” she said, jumping into its path and lifting her lightsaber into attack-3 position. Defense against incoming remotes was an exercise C’baoth had drilled her in for hour after wearying hour. Behind her, she sensed Obi-Wan moving back and to her right into backstop position. She settled her breathing, watching the missile approach, trying not to think about what would happen if her attack detonated the warhead…
It was nearly to her when, without warning, the front of the nose cone erupted into a cloud of sparkling smoke, and a cone of roiling black liquid sprayed out at her.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, instinctively flinching to the side as she did so. She sensed the missile start to pass, and swung her lightsaber as hard as she could in that direction.
But her sidestep had put her off balance, and even as her blade sliced through the air she knew she was too late.
Behind her, she heard the pitch of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber change as he took his own shot at it. But the missile’s roar changed as fresh thrusters kicked in, and as the heat of the missile’s exhaust swept across her she could tell that he, too, had missed.
“Come on!” he shouted. A hand grabbed her arm, and suddenly they were running through the heat and dissipating smoke in the missile’s wake. She blinked her eves open, ignoring the sting as the black liquid dribbled into them, to see the missile jinking back and forth down the wide central corridor like a droid seeking a target. Across the building at the far door she saw Anakin and Riske charging in from the other door, Anakin’s lightsaber blazing in his hand, Riske’s blaster firing uselessly. Letting go of Lorana’s arm, Obi-Wan locked his lightsaber on and hurled it at the missile.