by Timothy Zahn
"All right, but not too far," Obi-Wan said. "I don't want you getting lost."
"I won't." Slipping between a pair of Karfs, the boy ducked into the crowd.
"You sure he'll be all right?" Lorana asked.
"He'll be fine," Obi-Wan assured her. "He's a little reckless, but he's strong in the Force and generally behaves himself."
"You must have great confidence in him," Lorana murmured.
Obi-Wan gave her a sideways look. There'd been an odd wistfulness in her tone just then. "C'baoth doesn't have as much confidence in you, I take it?"
"Master C'baoth has had several Padawans in his lifetime of service to the Jedi Order," she said, her voice going carefully neutral. "He knows what he's doing."
"Yes, of course," Obi-Wan said. "He does have a rather overpowering personality, though, doesn't he?"
"His reputation is well earned," she said, again clearly picking her words carefully. "He's skilled and knowledgeable and intelligent. I've learned a great deal from him."
"Though he's also perhaps a little too demanding?"
"I wouldn't characterize him that way," she said, her voice going a little cooler.
"Of course you would," Obi-Wan said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I thought that aboutmy Master at times. And Iknow Anakin thinks that about me."
For a moment she hesitated. Then, almost reluctantly, she smiled back. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to please him," she admitted.
"I know the feeling," Obi-Wan said. "Just remember that this, too, will pass. And once you're a Jedi Knight, your job will no longer be a matter of pleasing a single Master or even a group of them. Your job will be to do what is right."
"That's the part that seems so hard," she confessed. "How do you ever know what is truly right?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "When you're at peace," he said. "When you're truly attuned to the Force."
"If I ever am."
Obi-Wan grimaced. On one hand was Anakin, pushing ahead so eagerly that he was forever overstepping his limits, though he had to admit the boy succeeded more often than he failed. On the other hand was Lorana, so awed by C'baoth's presence and reputation that she was afraid to even stretch herself beyond anything she already knew.
Somewhere, there had to be a middle ground.
For another few minutes they walked together in silence, weaving their way through the other pedestrians and shoppers. Obi-Wan kept his eyes moving, watching for signs of Riskc or of the trouble he apparently expected to find here and making sure to keep Anakin's bobbing head within sight.
Ahead, off to the left, was a landspeeder repair shop, with a display of shiny parts in the open-air front room and half-seen figures working in the darker repair area in back. Several Brolfi were browsing around the front room displays, most of them adults but one a teenager about Anakin's age. Obi-Wan eyed him, noting his reddish brown craftsman's vest with its multiple pockets. Most Brolfi seemed to make do without nearly that much carrying capacity; apparently, this boy was the sort who liked carrying all his little treasures with him.
He smiled to himself. Jedi, forever wandering the galaxy with most of their possessions on their backs or belts, were hardly in a position to point fingers on that one. Throwing one final look at the boy, he started to turn away.
But to his surprise, something drew his eves back again.
Something about the youngster's posture, perhaps, or the way he was looking around him.
Or perhaps it was the subtle prompting of the Force. Frowning, he kept his attention on the boy as he and Lorana continued to weave their way through the milling crowds.
And as he watched, the young Brolf stepped close to a rack of burst thrusters, a set of cutters appearing magically in his hand. With a glance at the workers in the back room, he deftly snipped the anchor lines of two of the thrusters, catching each in turn and slipping them out of sight inside his vest. The cutters followed the thrusters, and a second later the boy wandered casually out of the shop. Turning his back to the approaching Jedi, he melted into the crowd.
Obi-Wan grabbed Lorana's upper arm. "Brolf teenager in a red-brown vest," he said in a low voice, pointing at the spot where the youth had disappeared. "Get Anakin, find him, and follow him."
"What?" Lorana asked, staring at him in bewilderment.
"Find him and follow him," Obi-Wan repeated, glancing around. To their right was a narrow alleyway cutting a path between a pair of ten-story buildings. "Go."
Still clearly puzzled, Lorana nevertheless nodded and hurried ahead. Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of her grabbing Anakin's arm; and then he was in the alley, dodging the garbage containers as he headed to the center. It was probably thirty meters to the tops of the buildings flanking him, and even with Jedi strength enhancement a leap like that was well beyond his capabilities.
But there were other ways. Glancing both directions down the alley to make sure no one was watching, he stretched out to the Force and leapt.
His boots hit the right-hand wall about four meters above the ground. Bending his knees to absorb the impact, he shoved off again before he could start falling back down, pushing himself upward and toward the wall on the left-hand side. That jump gained him another two meters, and he pushed off again toward the right, frog-hopping his way upward.
He reached the top with only minor twinges in his knees and leg muscles to mark the strain. Running to the edge of the roof, he dropped flat onto his stomach and looked down.
The streets looked just as crowded from up here as they did from down below. Pulling out his comlink, he keyed for Anakin. "Skywalker," Anakin's voice came promptly. "What's this about a kid in a brown vest?"
"He stole a pair of burst thrusters from that shop back there," Obi-Wan explained, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand as he searched the crowd below for the young thief
"You mean like you use in Podracers and swoops?"
"Right," Obi-Wan said. "They're also the drive system of choice for homemade missiles."
There was a gentle hiss from the comlink. "Got it," Anakin said, his voice suddenly grim. "Did you see which way he went?"
"He left the shop going west," Obi-Wan said. "But he could easily have changed-wait a minute." He leaned a little farther over the edge of the roof as a flicker of red-brown caught his eye before it passed out of sight beneath an awning. He watched the other side, and moment later it emerged. "There he is," he told Anakin. "He's headed north now."
"What street?"
"Not a clue," Obi-Wan admitted. "Where are you two?"
"Just passing a building with a big blue-and-gold sign talking about medicines," Anakin said. "Across the street is a green hanging banner-"
"Right-I've got you," Obi-Wan cut in as he spotted them. "Take the next street to your right, and you'll see him about a block ahead."
He watched Anakin and Lorana long enough to see them pick up their pace, then shifted his attention back to the thief, wishing he'd thought to bring along some macrobinoculars. Anakin had a set, but that wasn't going to do Obi-Wan any good.
"Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan lifted his comlink again. "Go."
"We've turned north," Anakin reported. "I think I see him ahead."
"Stay where you are," Obi-Wan ordered. A somewhat chunky Brolf had stepped from one of the storefronts and was moving to intercept the thief. "I think he's about to pass off his ill-gotten gain. Put Lorana on."
There was a moment of silence. "Yes?" Lorana's clear voice came.
"Move forward a little from where you are," Obi-Wan told her. "The thief's rendezvousing with someone-slightly overweight Brolf with a dark blue sash over a lighter blue tunic."
"I see him," Lorana confirmed. "He's moving in close.. looks like they're talking. ."
"Is the boy giving him the thrusters?" Obi-Wan asked. "The adult's blocking my line of sight."
"He's in mine, too," Lorana said tightly. "I can't-there they go.
"Blast," Obi-Wan muttered under his breath as the two Brolfi
separated, the teen continuing north while the adult turned west. "Did he give him the thrusters?"
"I couldn't tell," Lorana said. "I'm sorry."
Obi-Wan scowled as he watched the two Brolfi heading their separate ways. The adult had certainly had the time and the opportunity to take the thrusters. Problem was, he'd also had the time to merely confirm that the grab had been made, to check for followers, or to give the boy new instructions.
And no matter which way the rendezvous had gone, the whole thing might simply be a bit of Barlok's normal criminal activity. It might have nothing to do with Passel Argente and Riske's paranoia.
But Riske had been looking for trouble out this way. Obi-Wan had found some. It was definitely worth checking out.
And here he was, stuck on a rooftop a block away.
"Then I guess we'll have to follow both of them," he decided, looking around the nearby rooftops. If he could leap to the next one over, then the one next to that, then find a stairway or turbolift to get back to street level..
But no. In broad daylight, in the middle of a crowded city, there was an even chance someone would spot his acrobatics and recognize him for what he was. The minute any potential attackers realized there was a Jedi on their trail, they would go to ground so fast and so deep that even a professional like Riske would have trouble rooting them out.
"I agree," Lorana said. "I'll take the adult."
Obi-Wan hesitated. Lorana was the older of the two Padawans, and thus theoretically the more capable. But he knew Anakin's capabilities and experience, and knew the boy could deal with any trouble he might run into.
Still, if there was one thing Lorana lacked in abundance, it was confidence. It wouldn't help to send her after a teenager, especially not with Anakin listening.
And after all, she would only be following the Brolf, not confronting or fighting him. That should be safe enough.
"Fine," he told her. "Take Anakin's comlink-it's linked directly to mine-and give him yours. What's your frequency?"
She gave him the number. "We're splitting up," she added. "I'll contact you when the adult comes to roost."
"Right," Obi-Wan said. "Tell Anakin I'll catch up with him as soon as I can."
Switching off the comlink, Obi-Wan pushed himself back to his feet. He took one final look over the edge of the roof, then turned and hurried toward the stairs. Yes, his Padawan could deal with any trouble he might run into.
Probably.
Chapter 7
For a wonder, Anakin didn't get himself into any mischief in the time it took Obi-Wan to reach the street and catch up with him. The young Brolf, for his part, continued on his way, apparently oblivious to the fact he was being followed.
Obi-Wan had noted earlier that Patameene District included rich neighborhoods as well as poorer, working-class ones. The teen led them into one of the latter, finally entering one of the units in a slightly dilapidated house ring.
The house ring was a standard Brolfi urban structure, consisting of a circle of houses or apartment buildings built around a central courtyard. The courtyard was designed to be a common recreation area for the ring, but through a gap where one of the houses had collapsed Obi-Wan saw that this particular courtyard had been turned into something that more closely resembled a junkyard.
"Looks like Watto's back area," Anakin murmured, ducking his head to peer inside. "They've got at least three projects going on in there."
"Any of them look like something that would use burn thrusters?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Hard to tell," Anakin said. "The one on the left-"
"Hold that thought," Obi-Wan cut him off quietly. There had been a flicker in the Force..
"Can we help you?" a suspicious voice asked from behind them.
Keeping his hands visible, Obi-Wan turned around. There were three adult Brolfi coming toward them, their simple tunics worn but neat and clean. "No thank you," he said politely. "We were just noticing all the construction work in there and wondering what they were building."
"Why would you care?" the spokesman asked.
"My young friend here used to build Podracers," Obi-Wan explained. "He's always been fascinated with that sort of thing."
"Really," one of the other Brolfi said, looking Anakin up and down. "You know anything about split-X air intakes?"
"Never used them myself," Anakin said. "But I can install them or fix them if there's a problem."
"Really." The Brolf filled his lungs. "Duefgrin!"
There was a slight pause; then the teen they'd been following appeared at the gap in the ring. "Yes, Uncle?" he called.
"Couple of humans here who say they know split-X systems," the Brolf said. "You still having trouble with yours?"
"I don't know," the teen said, eyeing Obi-Wan and Anakin doubtfully. "I just picked up a new compression controller. Maybe that'll help."
Obi-Wan suppressed a grimace. So that was what he and the adult had been doing back in the marketplace. The boy had handed over the stolen burst thrusters and gotten the controller in exchange.
Either that, or he'd stolen the controller earlier in the day. In that case, he might still have the thrusters.
"Only if the split-X doesn't have a back stability problem," Anakin said. "What kind of coupling you have on it? Binary or tertiary?"
"Binary," Duefgrin said. "I couldn't afford a tertiary."
"Let me take a look," Anakin offered, starting toward him. "If that's okay?" he added, looking at Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan looked questioningly at the three Brolf adults. "Sure, go ahead," Duefgrin's uncle said, waving a hand. "The sooner he gets that junk heap working and out of the yard, the sooner the neighbors will quit complaining about it."
"Thanks," Obi-Wan said, mentally crossing the three adults off his suspects' list. If they were willing to let strangers wander freely through the area, they probably weren't hiding any plots. "Okay, Anakin, but make it quick."
"Sure," Anakin called back over his shoulder. Already, Obi-Wan noted, he and Duefgrin were deep into technical talk. "I'll be ready to leave when you are."
"I've heardthat before," Obi-Wan said under his breath as he followed them into the courtyard. Still, Duefgrin himself could be involved with a group of plotters without his uncle's knowledge. It wouldn't hurt for Obi-Wan to take a leisurely turn or two around the house ring while the teenagers worked, stretching out with the Force for any signs of violent intent.
And after that, he would pry Anakin away from whatever it was Duefgrin was building and they would see what kind of luck Lorana was having.
The young Brolf thief, Lorana had noticed, had left the rendezvous at a casual walk, without any indication that he suspected he might be followed or, indeed, any indication that he even cared whether he was or not.
The adult Brolf was another kettle of Giju entirely. He was about as blatantly nervous and suspicious as it was possible to be without actually carrying a sign to that effect. Every dozen steps he threw a quick look over his shoulder, and he crossed and recrossed the street at least once a block. Every block or two he changed directions, sometimes pausing at one of the open-air shops lining the street and pretending to examine the merchandise while actually studying the pedestrians behind him.
It was so ludicrous that it was almost funny. But Lorana felt no urge to laugh. Riske was a professional, with a professional's bearing and subtlety. This Brolf was just the opposite: an amateur conspirator, with an amateur's lack of finesse or ability. And it was the amateur-uncalculating, unthinking, unpredictable-who was often the more dangerous opponent.
Fortunately, it was also the amateur who was the easier to deceive. Lorana had picked up a few tricks about tailing people during her years of Jedi training, and over the next hour she ended up using every one of them. She varied her distance from the Brolf, ducked through alleys and side streets to get ahead of him, and periodically altered her appearance by putting her robe's hood up or down or using a cord to tie her hair back instead of letting it hang f
ree.
Eventually, the Brolf's paranoia seemed to ease, and his convoluted path straightened out as he turned northwest. Lorana stayed as far back as she could, watching the ornamentation and value of the homes and shops around her steadily diminishing as they moved farther and farther into one of the poorer areas of the district. Whereas the richer neighborhoods had waist-high walls or fences to delineate the property lines, here the boundaries were marked off by low, tightly woven hedges or simple rows of distinctive flowering plants. A fair sprinkling of the pedestrians she passed wore tunics with Mining Guild markings, she noted, and many of them paused in their activities to scrutinize her as she passed through their midst.
