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They said they were starting a business, but nothing has been done, and they only exit the building at night."
"It could be anyone," Obi-Wan said.
"Ferus did a quick check of the airspeeders parked here," Siri said, with a look that told Obi-Wan he should wait for her to finish.
"Nothing unusual came up. Then he did a check with Coruscant security and went through the tickets for illegally parked airspeeders, cross-checking with known IDs used by the Slams. A standard Ralion B-14 that was recently bought at a speeder lot twenty levels down matched one of the false ID docs the Slams had on their master s.h.i.+p."
"Good work," Obi-Wan said to Ferus. "I say we go in. We don't have time to waste."
They strode to the door. As soon as they did, a buzzer sounded, and a light flashed. An automated female voice said in a pleasant tone, "Welcome. We're not home. If you wish to leave a text message, use the keypad."
"I have a message, all right," Obi-Wan said, drawing his lightsaber. "We're coming in."
He plunged his lightsaber through the door. It disintegrated from the center out.
The house was dark inside. Obi-Wan stepped in.
Immediately, lights blazed. Sound blared. He heard the sound of rockets, and he fell to the ground and rolled, lightsaber ready to deflect. Behind him, the Jedi moved in to flank him.
The walls flickered and pulsed with sound and light. It took a few seconds for Obi-Wan to make sense of it, then he realized every wall held a moving image, a holoprojection of a separate scene. One was a field with exploding novas in the sky - the famous shooting stars of Nantama.
Another was of the mountains of Belazura. Another showed fireworks exploding over the translucent seas of Dremulae. All were popular vacationing spots.
The noise was at full volume - surf, fireworks, wind. So loud that at first he didn't hear the whirr of the seeker droids.
He was leaping before the others, cutting down two in a perfect swoop of the lightsaber. The droids peppered the walls with blaster fire.
Smoke rose and the noise was deafening. The images flickered in beautiful colors of blue and rose and green while the shadows of the droids moved in menacing circles. The electric ping of the blaster fire crisscrossed the s.p.a.ce, and each Jedi had to jump, whirl, and slash at the droids as they dived and circled.
Within minutes, the dozen or so droids were reduced to smoking sc.r.a.p on the floor. Obi-Wan strode over to a panel behind the door and shut down the holoprojection system.
"Careful, that might be - " Siri started, as a secret blast door opened and three combat droids, the deadly droidekas, wheeled out and clattered to life. Blazing blasterfire raked the area where Obi-Wan had stood. Anyone but a Jedi would have been instantly annihilated.
"b.o.o.by-trapped!" Siri yelled, as she dodged the blaster bolts.
With deflector s.h.i.+elds in place, droidekas were difficult to stop.
While the rest of the Jedi took a step backward, Anakin moved forward. He had studied the droids ever since learning about them, and knew the precise spot where their generators lay. He rolled onto the floor, for only an upward stroke could disable them.
The Force hummed in the room as Anakin deftly inserted his lightsaber once, twice, three times. The roar of blasters ended.
Now the floor was littered with droids. Other than that, the house was empty.
"Let's search," Obi-Wan said. "They might have left a clue."
Siri moved past a table. "The only thing they left was dirty dishes," she said, disdainfully pointing to several greasy plates on the table.
Other than the signs of a hastily abandoned meal, there wasn't a trace of the occupants to be found.
"We've come up empty again," Siri said in disgust after a few minutes of searching.
"It's Omega's style," Anakin said. "He knows how to leave without a trace."
Ferus nudged a half-open closet door with his foot. "Nothing."
Obi-Wan drifted to the table. He bent over the dishes. There was a sc.r.a.p of roll on one plate, and a puddle of sauce on the other. He bent closer and sniffed.
"Gotcha," he murmured.
"What is it, Master?" Anakin asked, turning. Obi-Wan pointed to the plate. "That's Dexter Jettster's slider garnish. I'd know it anywhere."
Siri strode over and looked at the plate. "Congratulations. Our best clue is a garnish."
"It's a place to start," Obi-Wan said.
Siri nodded. "Why don't you and Anakin head over to Dexter's Diner and ask some questions. I think Ferus and I should study the water delivery system here on Coruscant. We know they're here. We'd better have a good idea of what damage they could do."
"Good idea. We'll be in touch."
Obi-Wan signaled to Anakin, and they left the house. Dexter's Diner wasn't far, lying in nearby Coco Town. They hurried through the crowded pedestrian ramps. The monorails were packed, and it was faster to walk.
They crossed through the plaza on the way to the diner. The buildings ringing the plaza were a mix of low-rent business and dilapidated industrial warehouses. Dexter's Diner crouched between the bigger buildings, its bright sign casting a red glow through the gray day.
Anakin started toward the door, but Obi-Wan stopped him. "Wait.
Look who's inside."
Anakin peered into the window. Sitting alone in a booth, both hands cupping a mug, was Astri.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
Astri looked up, surprised, when Obi-Wan and Anakin slid into her booth. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't seen them enter the diner.
"It's funny to see you here," she said to Obi-Wan. "Like a dream. I was just thinking of the old days. Everything is so different now. Even here." She looked around. "Dexter actually made it into a profitable enterprise."
"Well, he doesn't give away meals and drinks the way Didi did,"
Obi- Wan said.
She smiled. "That's true." She held up her empty cup. "He doesn't even give refills. But I like it here."
"Yes, those were good days," Obi-Wan said. "Things are more complicated now. Like the fact that your husband is trying to destroy the Jedi Order."
Astri's hands tightened on her cup. "I long ago made it a policy not to discuss Bog's politics."
"So what do you think about, then?" Anakin asked. His question wasn't confrontational. It was easy, interested. Obi-Wan was relieved that his Padawan had interfered so gracefully. He realized that he was deeply angry with Astri. He had expected better of her.
No expectations. Acceptance.
It was the Jedi way. And sometimes, so very hard to follow.
"My relief work," Astri responded promptly. "The economy of my adopted world, Nuralee, is failing."
"I didn't know that," Obi-Wan said. "The last time I was on Nuralee it was prospering."
She looked down into her empty cup. "That was probably some time ago."
Before Bog took office, Obi-Wan guessed.
"There are many too poor to buy food. I'm here on Coruscant briefly, just to attend a meeting to ask for help from the new All Planets Relief Fund and attend the inaugural ceremony. A Jedi team is acting as couriers and protectors for a s.h.i.+pment of food and medical supplies to Nuralee, and I must return to ensure it gets in the right hands."
"Do you know who they are?" Anakin asked.
"Soara Antana and Darra Thel-Tanis," Astri said. "I am grateful for their help."
You are grateful for the help we give you, but you will not help us. Obi-Wan had the thought but would not say it aloud.
No expectations. Just acceptance.
And as he thought the words, his mind cleared. Now that he was sitting quietly with her, he allowed himself to truly look at her, not just her changed hair and clothes, but what her face revealed. Yes, she was distant and remote. But if he removed his own feelings from the situation, he could see more clearly.
Something was wrong. He was picking up something.
Fear. She was afraid. But of what?
"So you are returning soon," Anakin said.
"The day after tomorrow. I am anxious to see my son and Didi."
Obi-Wan leaned back, still studying Astri without seeming to. She looked away, twining her fingers through the handle of her cup.
"So has Bog seen what Dex has done to the old place?" Anakin asked in a jovial tone, gesturing toward the red stools and the curved counter.
Excellent, Anakin. A casual question, but it would give them the information they needed to know. Was there a connection between Bog and the safe house?
"Yes, he's been here." Astri pushed away her empty cup. The subject of her husband didn't interest her. But they had the answer they wanted.
Bog had been the one to bring food from Dex's Diner to Omega and the others. There was a link between them now. Not a link he could prove.
But a link.
Astri began to slide out of the booth. "I should go. I'm late. It's always good to see you, Obi-Wan. Anakin."
She hurried out the door, not waiting for their goodbyes. As she left, she almost collided with a cloaked figure who was also leaving.
Obi-Wan stared after her. Even the way she moved was different. He remembered Astri striding down the streets, her curls flying, her face uptilted, her eyes alight, taking everything in. Now she walked with her head down, her hands thrust into the deep pockets of her tunic.
"She's afraid," he said out loud.
"Yes," Anakin said. "But not for herself. For her son."
Obi-Wan wrenched his gaze from the departing Astri and looked at his Padawan. More and more, he was recognizing that Anakin's sensitivity to others was growing and surpa.s.sing his in some cases. Anakin often seemed to know what secrets were inside others, what drove them to do the puzzling things they did. It had something to do with his command of the Force, but it was more than that.
He remembered the words of Ferus, when he had confessed his doubts about Anakin to Obi-Wan on RomIn. He had said that Anakin wanted to control everything. Anakin's gift of seeing inside beings could turn dangerous if he tried to control the feelings he found instead of just observing them.
But that was a Jedi lesson ingrained in every Padawan. Anakin knew that.
"Master, I have to ask you something," he said now. "Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has offered me a chance to observe the proceedings he attends over the next few days. He thinks I would gain insight into the political arena of the Senate."
"I agree," Obi-Wan said. "I have no objections, as long as it doesn't interfere with our pursuit of Omega. You could learn something valuable that could help us. It is a great honor that Palpatine has bestowed on you, my young Padawan."
Dexter waddled out from behind the counter, wiping his four hands on his greasy ap.r.o.n.
"Obi-Wan! My friend! Why didn't you come back to the kitchen and greet me?" Dexter's wide face creased in an enormous grin. "And you brought the tadpole with you!"
Anakin winced at the nickname. Then he stood up. He had grown since the last time Dexter had seen him, and Dexter burst out with a shout of laughter.
"Well, you showed me, you did, young Skywalker. I'd say you were full- grown now!" He hooked one enormous foot over a chair rail and dragged it over to the booth, then eased his bulk onto it.
"Now, what can I get the two of you - ten-alarm chili? Sliders?
I've got a stew cooking with bantha meat, cooked long and slow to make it tender. I know they say banthas taste like old boots, but they haven't tasted Dex's stew! I'll tell you my secret, boys." Dex leaned over. "I leave the hooves in the pot while it's cooking."
"Sounds delicious, Dex, but we've come for information," Obi-Wan said quickly, as Anakin's face paled. "We're on the trail of some galactic criminals, and we believe they have a taste for your slider garnish."
Dex slapped his knees with two of his hands. "And who doesn't? I've got to remember to bottle it. I could make my fortune! One of these days, when I get a minute away from the stove, ha!"
"One of the criminals is Jenna Zan Arbor."
Dex whistled. "A nasty piece of work. Wouldn't know her to see her, though. And I haven't heard she's back on Coruscant."
"How about Senator Bog Divinian?"
"Astri Oddo's husband? Sure, he's been here. Likes my sliders. You know, some people find them addictive! Picks up his dinner many a time and brings it back to his lodgings."
Obi-Wan briefly described the Slams. "Have you seen them?"
Dex stroked his chin. "Don't think so, and haven't heard of them, either. Hard to say. Here's the problem - we've been too busy here lately to notice much of anything except dirty dishes. And things are set to get even busier tomorrow, because the All Planets Relief Fund Ceremony will be held right across the way." With one fat finger, Dex pointed out the window to the plaza. "This is the kind of area the Fund will be trying to improve. Anyway, I'll keep my eye out. Many will be coming to see the big shots like the Chancellor. But most will come, I'd wager, to see a fortune being transferred. Everyone likes to be close to vertex, even if they don't have any themselves. They feel richer for looking at it - at least until they go home and look around at what they've got!" Dex laughed heartily.
Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. Fortune? Vertex? "What do you mean, Dex?"
he asked.