Part 13 (1/2)

Obi-Wan was surprised to find that he felt slightly relieved. After all, if he'd found it was Darsha or Master Bondara who had perpetrated this carnage... But in all probability it was not.

But who could it have been?

”No one saw who did this?” he asked Perhi.

”No. You'd think there'd be at least one witness, but everyone says they couldn't get a good look at him, even when he ran right by them.”

Obi-Wan nodded. That could be the natural reticence to get involved usually found in people on the far side of the law- or in fear of retribution.

He walked toward the exit, followed by Perhi.

”Jedi Ken.o.bi?”

”Yes?”

”I've never had the pleasure of seeing one of you work until today.

What you did up there in the bar- are all Jedi that good?” Obi-Wan stopped and turned to face Perhi. ”No, they're not.”

The gangster seemed to relax slightly-but his expression changed as Obi-Wan continued.

”I'm only an apprentice. I have yet to take the Jedi trials. My Master is far more skilled than I. As a student, I'm afraid I'm a bit of a disappointment to him. In terms of fighting skills, I'm probably least among the Jedi.”

The Padawan had the satisfaction of watching the gangster pale slightly. Then he turned and left Yanth's underground office, and the Tusken Oasis. With any luck, he had given Dal Perhi something to think about.

As he returned to the street, Obi-Wan mentally reviewed what he knew so far. Not much, unfortunately. He debated reporting back to the council, but decided to wait until he had something more than hearsay and supposition to offer. So far, all he knew for certain was that Darsha a.s.sant had lost the informant she was a.s.signed to protect. Her skyhopper had been gutted by a street gang, and her Master's skycar had been destroyed after a supposed brawl with a cowled figure. He had seen the vehicles, but no body for the informant, no Darsha, and no Master Bondara.

Add to that the fact that a Black Sun vigo, Yanth the Hutt, had been killed by a cowled figure. There had been a sense of corruption pervading the location, similar to what he had experienced at the crash site of Bondara's skycar.

Obi-Wan had two theories, which unfortunately were mutually contradictory. Theory number one: Darsha loses her informant to Black Sun attackers and trails them to the Tusken Oasis, where she is attacked and defeats an entire roomful of guards, along with Yanth the Hutt. She calls for help, and her master comes to aid her. They flee and . . . vanish.

There were holes in that theory that he could fly a Dreadnought through. Darsha was good in a fight, but if she was that good, she would never have lost her informant in the first place. Also, it didn't explain the sense of wrongness that lingered over the site of the skycar crash and the murders.

Theory number two was that there was some other ent.i.ty - most likely connected somehow with Black Sun - involved who had killed Yanth the Hutt and his bodyguards. Obi-Wan liked the second theory better for several reasons, not the least of which was that he didn't want to believe any Jedi capable of the crimes he'd been investigating. But neither theory explained where Darsha and her Master were, or why they hadn't been heard from for so long.

Obi- Wan sighed. He hadn't exhausted all his leads yet. There was still the block of cubicles to investigate. He checked the address he had been given and started to walk. With any luck at all, he might learn something there that would shed some light on the entire mess.

No such luck. The site of the cubicle explosion Obi- Wan had learned some very interesting news-but it was news that served only to muddy the waters further. One of the local police investigating the incident had told him that Hath Monchar, the Neimoidian deputy viceroy of the Trade Federation, had been the tenant of the blasted cubicle, and that he, too, had been killed.

It seemed obvious that Black Sun was somehow mixed up in all this.

There was no evidence anywhere to suggest that the crime cartel was in bed with the Trade Federation, but it was possible, certainly.

Too many questions, Obi-Wan thought. Too many questions, and not nearly enough answers.

CHAPTER 27.

There was light at the end of the tunnel.

Lorn, I-Five, and Darsha hurried toward it. They reached a doorway-the partially boarded-over entrance to another kiosk similar to the one by which they had entered the underground- and emerged into the tenebrous shadows of Coruscant's Crimson Corridor section.

It was like stepping into bright sunlight compared to the labyrinth they'd been trapped in for so long.

Lorn breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken longer than they had expected to find a path back to the surface, involving several dead ends and retracing of their routes, but at least they had not suffered any further attacks by more underground denizens. Apparently the only Cthons on the other side of the bridge had been the ones in the taozin's belly was fortunate, because after the effort of climbing the long silken rope to the top of the underground chasm, the two humans were exhausted. But they couldn't afford to rest, or even slow down. They had to a.s.sume that the Sith was still somewhere behind them, still pursuing them.

Which was the worst of their problems, but by no means the only one. Lorn figured that in all likelihood the bank's security personnel were after him and I-Five by now, as well. The transaction fraud they had committed would probably have also attracted the notice of the planetary police, and very possibly a few Republic treasury agents.

It had also occurred to Lorn that Black Sun might have a few questions for him, depending on what kind of records Yanth had left of his business dealings and what the eyewitnesses at the Tusken Oasis had pieced together. In short, probably just about every organized power on the planet was looking for him and I-Five.

Of course, the only pursuit he knew of for certain was the Sith's.

The rest I-Five would probably characterize as paranoia. So what? Lorn told himself. Downlevels, paranoia wasn't a disorder; it was a lifestyle.

Darsha spoke. ”My people will no doubt have sent out searchers by now. If we can get to a comm station, all we have to do is alert them to come pick us up.”

Right-the Jedi. He'd forgotten about them. That made one more at the party.

I-Five said, ”We are in an area with very few operating public comm stations. It's likely there will be a higher quant.i.ty of functional ones some levels up.”

Sharp, Lorn thought. There were stations to be found if you knew where to look, but he didn't want to give Darsha a chance to drag them back to the Temple just yet. Back there in the tunnels, during the endless search for a way out, he'd managed to whisper a few instructions to the droid without Darsha hearing him. I-Five knew Lorn wanted to get to Tuden Sal as quickly as possible-without the Jedi Padawan.

”So we're back to the question of the day: How do we get uplevels?”

Darsha asked. ”Climbing is risky. I had a bad experience earlier with some hawk-bats. I found my way up a monad, but I don't see any of those nearby.”

It was true: without some kind of transportation, the problem of getting uplevels in this area was a sticky one. Of course, if he could contact Tuden Sal, the man would send a transport-but the problem was circular. First he had to get to a comm station.

It was extremely frustrating. They had never been more than half a kilometer from one of the most cosmopolitan areas in the galaxy. The only problem was, it was half a kilometer straight up. The possibility of freedom lay only a score of levels over their heads, and yet it might as well be on one of the orbiting s.p.a.ce stations for all that they could reach it. All things considered, Lorn thought, it was hard to see how things could get any worse.

”We are being watched,” the droid said.

Even as the droid spoke, Darsha could feel them- more than one, of different species, and with unmistakably malign intent.

”Why am I not surprised?” Lorn said. ”Any way to tell exactly who is watching us?”

Darsha reached out with her senses and felt familiar signatures.

She was sure she had come across them before recently.

”It's not the Sith,” she said, and saw the broker relax. And then she recognized the vibration in the Force. ”It's-”

”Hey, lady-still slumming?”

It was Green Hair, the leader of the Raptor gang that had attacked her when she first touched down in the Corridor. Three of his cronies-the Trandoshan, a Saurin, and a Devaronian-were with him. Darsha almost smiled in relief. Compared to the creatures she'd faced under the surface, these punks were nothing.

Lorn seemed to feel the same way. He said, ”Slide off, boys- we're more trouble than you're worth.”