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Saloma and the Jedi made their way south towards Ergo's city limits just after the sun had set. Under a cloak of curfewed darkness, they wound their way through the empty streets down to the warehouse district, narrowly averting detection by a passing platoon of enforcement droids.
Recalling the information he'd gleaned while in their captivity, Anakin believed the resistance had set up a gathering place for its members in one of the warehouses by the piers, but he had no idea which one.
Hoping to acquire more detailed information on the whereabouts of the resistance, Saloma led her companions to one of the more popular dockside cantinas.
"You've got to be joking," Obi-Wan whispered loudly, looking up at the dilapidated sign. "The Honest Hutt?"
Saloma grinned and shrugged. "Well, I didn't name it."
Anakin glanced around with a deep frown on his face. "This reminds me of the stories I heard as a boy about the cantinas in Mos Eisley. I don't know, Saloma. I think coming here might be a waste of time. The patrons probably won't offer us anything without some sort of monetary compensation. And let me remind you, we still need to buy our way back to Coruscant." He paused noting his observations were falling on deaf ears. He sighed heavily. "It looks closed anyway."
Saloma finally glanced up at the younger Jedi. "They're not going to look open with a curfew in effect. But believe me, they're open. A place like this wouldn't let something as trivial as a curfew law keep them from doing business during peak season." Saloma sidled up to the front door and shook her head. It was sealed tight. "There must be a back entrance. Something less conspicuous maybe."
She slunk around to the side of the building with the two Jedi following close behind. The cantina's side door was hidden in a shadowy recessed stairwell.
"The subfloor, of course," Saloma exclaimed. "Enforcement droids' sensors wouldn't be able to penetrate activity underground." She started down the steps then turned back to address the Jedi. "Look, this place can be a little rough. Just be careful, okay?"
Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hips against the railing edging the stairs. "So tell me, Councilwoman. How is it someone of your higher station knows the ins and outs of one of Ergo's seedier establishments?"
Saloma didn't seem the least bit phased by his inquiry. "Oh, didn't I tell you I used to sell my body here for spending money whenever ships came in?" She smirked up at him, but the Jedi Master did not look amused. Saloma sighed. "For your information, my constituents once petitioned the City Council to close this place down. Needless to say, the motion didn't pass and I got a first hand look at a side of Ergo I never dreamed existed."
Anakin put his hands on his hips. "Well, don't worry about us. We can take care of ourselves. You're the one who needs to be careful. Especially if you approach some unsavory being for information who doesn't care to be approached."
"No, no. They'll come to me. All I have to do is make my point of view known. Just watch," Saloma reassured him. "And for crying out loud, you guys need to back off and give me space to work. No one is going to come to me if they think I have two humorless goons attached to my side."
The two Jedi exchanged wary looks.
Saloma took a deep breath and rapped on the door. When no one responded, she knocked a little harder and chewed nervously on her lower lip.
"Maybe the owner became respectable in your absence and is abiding by the curfew law after all," Anakin whispered.
Saloma was just about to reply when the door swung open and an older, disheveled woman in a stained apron leaned out.
The woman looked Saloma up and down and then stared past her at the two Jedi. "Yeah, what is it?"
Saloma cleared her throat. "We've been dodging patrols all night and got a little thirsty. May we come in?"
The woman pressed her lips tightly together. "What makes you think you can get a drink here at this time of night? We're closed down. Curfew in effect. We always obey the law." Her face was flushed and a trickle of perspiration rolled over her high forehead. She wiped it away with the palm of her hand.
Saloma smiled slightly. "Of course you do. And I wasn't implying otherwise. We are just travellers. Weary, hungry, and cold. We come only seeking out the hospitality of Ergo's fine citizens. If you could spare a small something, it would be greatly appreciated."
The rumpled woman looked them over once more and glanced quickly around. "Sure," she said finally. "I can spare something. Come on in." She opened the door completely and stood back to allow them access.
Saloma glanced back at Obi-Wan and Anakin as they stepped into a small darkened entryway. The woman closed the door behind them and turned around to face them.
"Can't be too careful," she muttered, waving a damp bar towel at them. "We get all types in here these days." She gestured to them to follow her down another short flight of stairs. The door at the bottom of the stairs slid open as she approached, revealing a dimly lit cellar, crammed with tables and chairs, and a wide assortment of aliens and Ergonians.
A small bar ran parallel to the back wall. Two bartenders darted frenetically back and forth behind it, continuously filling orders for drinks to keep up with their numerous customers' demands. The waitress brought Saloma and the Jedi over to the bar and waved to one of the bartenders.
"Fix 'em up with something," she told him, then faced Saloma. "I'll be back if I can find you a table. If not, you're on your own." She turned and disappeared through the crowd of patrons milling about the bar.
Saloma ordered a drink from the bartender, then turned to face Obi-Wan and Anakin who were standing slightly behind her. "You should get something," she told Obi-Wan in a hushed tone. "Everyone's drinking. You don't want to look out of place."
The Jedi Master glanced over at his padawan. "What would you like?"
Anakin shrugged. "Whatever will take the chill out of my bones."
Obi-Wan leaned towards the bar within earshot of the bartender. "Do you have a house specialty?"
The bartender nodded. "It's a spiced cocktail. It's called the Cyclonic."
The Jedi nodded. "We'll have that." As the bartender rushed off to fill the order, Obi-Wan reached over and pulled Anakin closer to him. "Do you recognize anyone?"
Anakin shook his head. "It's hard to tell. The room's so crowded." His eyes swept slowly back and forth. "You stay with Saloma. I'll go have a look around."
"All right, just be cautious," Obi-Wan murmured in his ear. "Don't step on any toes. I mean that literally as well as figuratively."
Anakin grinned. "I'll be careful." He held out his hand for his drink as the bartender came back with their order.
Obi-Wan handed him the swirling, steamy beverage with a concerned look on his face. "Well, you wanted something hot."
Anakin smelled it and took a tentative sip. "Perfect," he announced with a smile and stalked off, cradling the warm glass in his large hands.
Saloma spied two empty barstools off to her right and quickly sat down in one. She looked up at Obi-Wan and patted the seat next to her with a luring grin. The Jedi sat down beside Saloma with a contented sigh. He propped his elbow on the bar to hold his head up and smiled, gazing fondly at her.
She leaned closer to Obi-Wan, catching his distinct thoughts. "How can you think of something like that at a time like this?"
Obi-Wan laughed lightly. "I'm a man. And that was the exact same look you gave me back in the sick bay." He dragged his hand through his hair to push his bangs away from his eyes.
Saloma sighed. "Has anyone ever told you what beautiful eyes you have?" she asked, staring back at him. "I'll never forget meeting you for the first time in the cathedral. When your eyes met mine, my heart took flight."
Obi-Wan reached over and took her hand in his. "Kismet," he whispered. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm.
"Kismet is right. It's a good thing the cathedral was still standing back then," Saloma said and then glanced around. "Otherwise, we may have never met." The Rodian sitting on Saloma's left suddenly slumped forward and passed out. Saloma and Obi-Wan watched as a man came up and grabbed the collar of the Rodian's coat and pulled him off the stool. He eased him onto the floor, out of his way, where a passing waiter dragged him off. Then the man helped himself to the recently vacated seat at the bar and cleared his throat brusquely.
Saloma quickly turned to face him.
"Too bad about that," the man began, slowly turning his eyes on her. "Wasn't it?"
Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow.Saloma moistened her lips and peered back at the man curiously. "What, about me falling in love?"
The man laughed lightly. He seemed young, but he had a hard and weathered face. He was thin and unkempt, with dark hair and deep set dark eyes. Shaking his head, he shifted towards Saloma and placed his drink carefully on the bar.
"I meant about the cathedral. Too bad they had to go and knock it down. Especially since it was such a landmark and all."
Saloma bowed her head. "Yes, it was a shame."
"They wanted to make sure the Jedi never came here again," he continued. "I understand that, but that cathedral belonged to the citizens of Ergo. Not the Jedi. Besides, the Jedi will never come back now."
Obi-Wan grinned mischievously. "Never say never, my friend."
The man looked back at Obi-Wan as if he had just noticed him. "Ah well, these days that's the hope of every two-bit bounty hunter on Aremont. Even the citizens are keeping an eye out for them. You must be looking for them too. With that kind of price on their heads, I can't blame you."
Saloma suddenly glanced back at Obi-Wan anxiously. "Darling, can you go find the waitress and see if she has a table for us yet? I'm getting rather hungry." She put her hand on her stomach and forced a smile.
The Jedi immediately sensed her unease. He knew she had probably heard something the young man was thinking, but he couldn't understand why she was sending him away if she did.
"Actually, Darling," Obi-Wan replied, stressing the endearment, "I distinctly heard the waitress say she would come get us when she had a table cleared."
Saloma narrowed her eyes at him. "Can you please go see what's keeping her then?"
Knowing he'd get an explanation in time, Obi-Wan gave in to her strange, fictitious request. With a heavy sigh, he slid off his stool and ambled away into the thickening crowd.
Saloma turned her attention back on the young man to her left. "Sorry about that. What were you saying? About the Jedi and the bounty hunters? I've been away. I'd appreciate it if you would catch me up on all the latest gossip going around. Aremont's changed so profoundly since Governor Spiget took control. I hardly recognize it."
The man nodded easily. "I'd be glad to as long as your friend doesn't think I'm honing in on his territory or something. Not that you wouldn't be worth it, but I'm a gentleman by nature." He flashed a disarming smile at Saloma and took a long drink.
Saloma lookeded in the direction Obi-Wan had gone. "Oh, don't worry about him. I can't say he's harmless, but he is civilized."
"In that case, my name is Devon. So you live here, but you've been away, huh?"
"I'm Sal. Yes. I left just after the elections. Business, you know. Keeps me off the planet from time to time," Saloma responded. She picked up her drink and watched its odd swirling, hoping Obi-Wan would stay away so she could find out more information from her affable companion. "So tell me a little about yourself. You seem to be well informed. How do you pass your time?"
"I'm self-employed. I run my own business." He paused and took a drink.
Saloma slowly looked him up and down. She knew what kind of business he was in despite his equivocal description.
"I saw that look," Devon grinned. "I know I don't look overly successful, but I can assure you, I am."
Lowering her eyes coyly, Saloma cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. It's just that I was thinking the government might have forced you into a different, less agreeable line of work. I hear they've been doing that to some of the more...mm, established citizens. Business owners like yourself."
Devon leaned a little closer to Saloma. "You don't sound particularly impressed by the new governor's decisive action."
Saloma smiled slightly. "I didn't think I was being that obvious," she whispered.
"It's all right. You won't find many in this district who are overly fond of the new anti-Republic regime. Some even openly oppose it. If you do, you're among friends in this place."
"I have heard rumors of some sort of resistance movement," she acknowledged.
Devon nodded. "Oh, they aren't rumors. As a matter of fact, they've grown twice as strong. They've been newly motivated by a rising young figurehead. He used to be a political prisoner so the people really react around him. He's quite a character." Devon paused and cocked his head. "I think he's one of your kind. You're from the southern polar region, aren't you?"
Saloma gulped her drink to keep from replying right away. She listened to Devon's thoughts, afraid he might have guessed who she was, but he didn't give her any indication that he had. She smiled up at him finally and shook her head.
"No. You're mistaken. I'm not from the south."
Devon peered at her curiously. "Oh. Sorry. With your complexion, I just assumed."
Again, Saloma shook her head. "Don't feel bad. I get mistaken for being Flaro a lot," she told him in a reassuring tone. She heard him thinking about how much she looked like the Flaro man who had caused such a stir within the resistance.
"Flaro," Devon repeated. "Yeah, that's it. He's Flaro. I'm sure of it."
"Who?" Saloma asked innocently. "The new leader of the resistance?"
Devon leaned against the bar and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Him."
Saloma's heart skipped a beat. Devon could be referring to Nare. Trying not to look as anxious to hear more as she was, Saloma sipped her drink a few times and pretended to look around for Obi-Wan.
"You sound as if you have met him," she stated casually, her pulse banging inside her head.
"Oh, I have. He doesn't make himself accessible to many strangers for obvious reasons, but he sought my services once." Devon paused and leaned closer to him. "So, I know where he conducts his business. We've exchanged information on many occasions. He's an incredible man."
"Hmm, I wouldn't mind meeting him myself one of these days," Saloma put in. "Sounds intriguing."
Devon took a deep breath and watched Saloma carefully. "I can arrange it, if you're serious about becoming involved in his cause."
Saloma lowered her head and licked her lips anxiously. "I...think I'd like that," she breathed. She knew he was telling the truth. He hadn't lied once. He had only left out certain details concerning his occupation, but she couldn't blame him for that. From what he was thinking now, she could tell he really did know this young Flaro man who sounded a lot like Nare.
Devon suddenly sat back, startling Saloma. She looked up and saw Obi-Wan standing directly in between them. She sighed heavily and frowned at his sudden unexpected presence.
"The waitress has found a table for us, but it's right by the door and I think you should look at it first to see if it meets your approval," the Jedi droned, maintaining the lie she'd created earlier.
Saloma slowly shook her head and shooed him away with her hand. "I'm sure it's fine. You go ahead. I'll be over shortly. I'm just going to finish my drink." The look on Obi-Wan's face told her he wasn't about to take no for an answer.
"Just take it with you," Obi-Wan grumbled. He took a crushing hold of Saloma's hand and tried to pull her off the barstool, but she resisted. "Look, I'm not going to listen to you bitch all night because the table is by the door," he added.
Devon tactfully turned away from the couple and helped himself to a handful of snacks from a bowl on the bar.
Saloma glared daggers at Obi-Wan, but he wouldn't relent. Then she smiled condescendingly at him and abruptly stood up.
"Ah, excuse us," Saloma quickly told Devon as Obi-Wan hauled her off.
"Certainly," Devon muttered over his shoulder. He downed the last of his drink and promptly ordered another.
***
Obi-Wan dragged Saloma to the far corner of the cellar in the midst of a raucous group of inebriated aliens. He spun around to face her and finally released her.
"I'm not leaving you alone with him again!" the Jedi said, raising his voice so he could be heard above the noise. "You're afraid of him. I feel it. I want you to tell me why right now."
Shaking out the kinks in her slightly crushed hand, Saloma frowned, but nodded. "I think he's a bounty hunter. Yes, I've been afraid, but I've been afraid for you. He might recognize you. That's why I sent you away. As soon as he started talking about the hopes of every two-bit bounty hunter, his mind started salivating with greed." She looked up at the Jedi and bit her lower lip. "Listen, just before you came back, he said he knew the new leader of the resistance on a personal basis. A Flaro man who was once a political prisoner." She blinked back tears that suddenly welled in her eyes at the thought of seeing Nare again. "I have to go back and talk to him. I have to find out more, but you have to stay away."
"Is he telling the truth?" the Jedi asked.
Saloma lowered her eyes. "I believe so. I can't hear him very well. There's too much going on around me. Everything's jumbled. I'm sure he's lying about something, but it's not about Nare."
Obi-Wan took a deep steadying breath. "Saloma, don't get your hopes up. Don't let your emotions run away with you before you've had the chance to reconcile his motives. If he is a bounty hunter, he may be setting you up. He may be setting us all up."
Saloma bowed her head. "I know. I'll be careful. If there's the slightest chance, Obi-Wan, I have to take it. I have to find Nare." She distractedly rubbed her sore hand, eager to get back to her conversation with Devon.
Sighing heavily, the Jedi took her hand and began gently massaging it between both of his. Despite the uneasiness he felt, Obi-Wan knew he couldn't deny her the chance of finding her brother.
"I understand. I just want you to be very, very careful. Go on. See what he has to say. I'll be close by if you need me." Obi-Wan raised her hand and softly kissed it with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't realize I was holding you so tightly."
Saloma smiled shakily. "Not tightly, securely," she whispered. She leaned into him and kissed his cheek, then hurried off.
***
Anakin pushed his way through the dense crowd and over to where Obi-Wan stood watching Saloma make her way back to the bar.
"Any developments at your end? I've been talking to quite a few people but I haven't seen or heard anything even remotely worthwhile," the younger Jedi reported.
Obi-Wan looked up at him and furrowed his brow. "Saloma's found someone who might know something useful. Someone who claims to know Nare. How convenient for us that the first person who sat next to her is the very person she needed to find."
"Stranger things have happened but I know that tone of yours, Obi-Wan," Anakin said, shaking his head. "You don't sound very optimistic. Even so, why aren't you going with her?"
"A minor complication," the Jedi Master said sarcastically. "The man's a bounty hunter. Saloma doesn't think it's safe for me to be around him. She's afraid he'll recognize me." He frowned and glanced around. "I'm sure he's not the only one in here. But if we haven't been recognized by now, I doubt we will."
Anakin shrugged. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. The competition may be too heavy in here. They may just be lying in wait for a more opportune time to strike."
Obi-Wan grinned. "Now who's being optimistic?" He patted Anakin's shoulder amiably and started off towards the bar.
Sighing, Anakin turned and spied a waitress clearing off a nearby table. He approached her and placed his empty glass on her tray.
"May I get another one of these?" he asked.
The waitress held out her hand. "I don't run tabs on the floor. I'll need a twenty-two for it first."
Anakin frowned and shook his head. "Never mind then."
He turned to go, almost bumping into a provocatively dressed young woman, who had suddenly appeared beside him. She grinned up at him and promptly handed the waitress some money.
"Make that two," she ordered, never taking her eyes off Anakin. The waitress scurried away with newfound purpose. The girl tossed her long red hair over her shoulder and licked her bright red lips. She gestured at the empty table. "Shall we?" Without waiting for an answer, she pulled out two chairs and sat down in one.
Feeling somewhat obliged and admittedly intrigued, Anakin slid into the chair next to her. He needed to watch the crowd anyway and this table was a good vantage point.
"Thank you," he told the girl. "For paying. That was quite generous of you, considering you don't even know me."
The girl smiled revealing a mouthful of straight white teeth. Her large green eyes glittered with amusement. "Well, that's easy enough to remedy." She extended her hand in greeting. "My name is Trudee. What's yours?"
Anakin accepted her hand and shook it, trying to decide if he should tell her his real name or not. He came to the conclusion there would be no harm in doing so. His name was fairly common.
"Anakin," he said quietly and felt her squeeze his hand.
"Well, Anakin," Trudee began and laced her slim fingers through his. "I haven't seen you around here before." She started rubbing her thumb slowly over his wrist.
"I'm just passing through really," he admitted. "I'm traveling with someone." Feeling self-conscious about the way she was touching him, Anakin tried to tactfully reclaim his hand.
Undaunted, Trudee released his hand, but leaned closer to him, pressing her thigh up against his. "The man you were with before? Is he your brother? 'Cause you both kinda look alike. You're both heartbreakers, I can tell."
Anakin smiled at her coquettish behavior but sat forward slightly to get farther away from her and folded his arms in front of him on the table. "No, he's not my brother. He's just a friend," he told her, not acknowledging her compliment.
The waitress returned and set the two Cyclonics down on the table. Trudee handed her more money.
"Keep them coming, okay?"
The waitress nodded and hurried off.
"I should have worn my hair up tonight," Trudee sighed. She pushed her hair back off her neck, sliding her fingers through it in a mesmerizing rhythm. "It's very warm in here." She reached up with both hands and gathered her tresses together, piling her hair in a mass of red waves on top of her head.
"But it's very cold outside," Anakin replied, watching as her hair slipped from her grasp and tumbled back down to her shoulders. "Besides, it looks pretty loose like that," he added to reassure her.
Trudee's eyes twinkled with delight. "Why thank you, Anakin. That was very nice of you to say." She sipped her drink, her eyes locking on his. "You seem like a very nice guy to me. You dress nice. You have a nice voice. Nice manners. I've never met anyone like you before. Most of the guys who come here are scum. But not you. You're a real gentleman. I can tell."
Anakin leaned a little closer to her. "You're nice too," he told her in a low voice. He gazed back at her and sighed. She was pretty and he was flattered by her attraction to him, but wasn't really sure what to do about it. He wasn't trying to encourage her, but it seemed as if everything he said and did met with her approval. He had to be careful. A guy could get into a lot of trouble with a girl like her.
***
Devon was pleased to see Saloma settle onto the barstool beside him again. He glanced around behind her expectantly.
"Don't worry, he won't bother us anymore," Saloma reassured him. She waved the bartender over to freshen her drink. "So, where were we?"
Devon cleared his throat. "We were talking about a certain acquaintance of mine," he reminded, angling his body to face her.
Saloma nodded. "Oh yes. People like that inspire me to stand up for what I believe in," she began. "He must have been through quite an ordeal as a political prisoner."
Devon nodded slowly. "He was tortured right outside the Jedi cathedral just before it came down and then he was left for dead. He narrowly escaped with his life. Now he's very dedicated to bringing the ones who betrayed him to justice."
Saloma held her breath. "What's his name?"
Devon leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. "His name is P'tol."
Saloma had heard enough. "He sounds like the kind of man I'd like to meet. Could you arrange something?" She looked around warily. "Tonight perhaps?"
"Yes. It's not far."
Saloma swallowed down the lump forming in her throat. "Good. Make the arrangements," she whispered and sipped her drink. Devon wasn't lying. He knew Nare.
Devon nodded. "Meet me by the side entrance in fifteen minutes. Come alone." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of money and slapped it on the bar.
"Alone," Saloma echoed, entranced. She watched Devon pick his way through the crowd and head for the cellar door.
Obi-Wan had been making himself effectively invisible, watching Saloma a short distance away. When he saw Devon get up and leave, the Jedi started to make his way towards Saloma.
***
"Let's get out of this place, Anakin," Trudee suggested. "It's getting stuffy in here and the noise is starting to give me a headache." She finished her third Cyclonic in record time and looked around for the waitress, raising her hand to get the woman's attention. "I need another drink. I'm thirsty."
Anakin shook his head and took hold of her wrist, guiding her hand back to her side.
"I think you've had quite enough of those," he told her. "They're what's giving you a headache and making you so hot."
Trudee smiled, fixing her eyes on his face. She leaned into him and began rubbing his knee with her hand. "I think you're the one who's making me hot," she purred. "C'mon, don't you want to go someplace cool, and dark, and private?"
Anakin promptly removed her hand from his leg. "No, so behave yourself." Wanting to keep his inhibitions intact, he wedged his arm between them to pry her off of him. She was getting really clingy and would not keep her hands to herself.
Pouting, Trudee sat back slightly and crossed her arms over her chest. "I thought you liked me."
"I do," Anakin consoled. "Just not in the way you want me to." He sighed heavily and looked towards the bar for Obi-Wan. He wanted to keep his eye on him just in case the older Jedi signaled to him. It would be a good, legitimate reason to excuse himself.
"Here, have another drink," Trudee was saying. "You seem so uptight."
Anakin purposefully pushed the half empty glass away. "No thank you. I'm already feeling a buzz. If I were to get any more intoxicated than this, my mast--my friend over there would wring my neck."
He meant to gesture in Obi-Wan's direction, but froze as a vaguely familiar presence stirred the Force around him. Anakin quickly looked around, but the crowd was too thick to pinpoint the sensation's source. He turned to face Trudee and offered her an apologetic look.
"It was nice meeting you and thank you for buying my drink, but I have to get going now. Are you going to be all right?"
Trudee suddenly seized Anakin's arm. "I was really hoping you would take me home, Anakin. My boyfriend left me here and I don't have a speeder," she explained quickly, as she leaned against him. Reaching up, she slowly stroked his temples, running her nails through his hair. "If you take me home, I'll let you do me." The Jedi's eyes widened, then narrowed in disapproval. "Damn and blast girl, don't you have any self-respect?" he reproached her.
Trudee grinned wickedly. "Uh-uh," she replied. "Not where you're concerned." Grasping his head between her hands, she pulled his face down to hers and roughly kissed him.
Startled and angry, Anakin pushed Trudee away and quickly stood up to leave.
Rising to her feet, but looking past Anakin, Trudee's mouth fell open in surprise. "Mortane! You came back!" she suddenly exclaimed.
"I came back all right! And luckily I did!" Mortane grumbled, his voice coming from behind the Jedi. "And as for you, you slime, how dare you come onto my girl, like that."
Anakin's heart nearly stopped. The familiar presence he had sensed earlier belonged to Mortane Rure, the young resistance fighter who had held him captive, and later tried to burn him alive. Anakin tried to turn around to face him but something jabbed him sharply in the ribs and he froze.
"Whoever you are, I've got a blaster pointed at your back. So don't try anything. I want you outside in the alley. Now start walking."
Anakin tried to find consolation in the fact that Mortane hadn't recognized him. Yet. He sighed heavily and started towards the cellar door.
Trudee looked up at him and frowned. "Please, don't hurt him, Mortane. He didn't mean anything by it."
Anakin glared back at her, then slowly lifted his eyes, hoping to catch his master's attention.
//Obi-Wan....//
***
Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks and turned around. The distinct calling of his name by his padawan's voice rang inside his head like an alarm. It immediately drew his attention away from Saloma and to the far corner of the large cellar room where he had last seen Anakin.
The young Jedi was just passing through the exit door when Obi-Wan spotted him. Immediately, he knew something was wrong. He spared a quick glance back in Saloma's direction and saw she was still seated at the bar, calmly sipping her drink. He quickly made up his mind to go after Anakin.
However, the crowd was dense and unyielding between him and the door. Obi-Wan started prodding them out of his way using the Force. Feeling jostled, the throng of beings conveniently parted before him, and within moments, the Jedi Master was in full stride. He quickly crossed the room and slipped through the door.
***
"That's far enough. Get up against the building, then turn around. Nice and slow."
Anakin stopped. Mortane had made him walk around the corner from the Honest Hutt, his hands now raised in the air submissively, facing a black stone building.
"And just what do you think you're going to do to me?" Anakin taunted. He felt the sharp jab of the blaster's muzzle in the small of his back again and clenched his teeth. "Would it make any difference if I told you your little hottie back in the bar was the one coming onto me?"
Mortane laughed hollowly. "Guys like you only see what you want to see. That's why I have to teach you a lesson. Now...turn around."
Anakin closed his eyes and concentrated. He quieted his mind and quelled his emotions, gathering the Force to him. It's presence filled him. Opening his eyes, he swiftly turned around and snatched the blaster from Mortane's hand and drove his fist into the young resistance fighter's jaw.
Stunned, Mortane spun to the ground as Anakin pivoted around him, away from the building.
Anakin stood over him, training the blaster on Mortane's head. "Don't move," he growled. "And keep your eyes down."
Mortane took a deep breath and shook his head to clear it, settling back on his haunches. "Please. I don't know what came over me. She makes me crazy sometimes. I can't stand the thought of her with another guy." He paused his confession and licked his lips anxiously. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked in a shaky voice.
"I'd like to," the young Jedi retorted. "Blow you to bits and be done with you, but you're not worth the trouble I'd get myself into by doing so. And then, I realize you were only trying to salve your wounded pride by threatening me, and I know being in love can make you do really stupid things at times. It's an incredibly powerful emotion." Anakin slowly lowered the blaster. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Obi-Wan hurrying towards him. "I'm going to leave you to wallow in your misery now. Just ask yourself next time if she's worth the trouble you could have gotten into tonight. She's obviously not committed to you. You shouldn't trust her with your feelings."
Mortane tried to look up, but Anakin raised the blaster again and pressed it against his scalp.
"What did I tell you?"
"Sorry. It's just that....I thought you'd be angry. I thought you'd kill me. Why are you showing me mercy instead?"
Anakin sighed. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I have every right to despise you, but I can only feel sorry for you right now. You're absolutely pathetic." He took the blaster and tucked it into his belt as Obi-Wan drew up beside him. "Maybe it's because I know what it's like to be in love."
"I heard you call me," the older Jedi said as his eyes locked on Mortane. "What's going on here?"
"Forgive me," Anakin apologized. "I thought for a moment I might be in danger, but as it turned out, this whole sordid incident has been little more than a waste of time."
Obi-Wan looked up at his padawan and frowned. "And a distraction we can scarcely afford right now," he subtly reprimanded.
Anakin bit his lower lip. "Well, actually, it's not quite as trivial as it may seem," he began, compelled to explain. He gestured at Mortane. "This heartsick fool is a member of the resistance. His name is Mortane Rure." Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan and lowered his voice. "I have met him once before."
Mortane's head shot up in astonishment at the mention of his identity. "I don't know you! How do you know me? Are you one of Vrone's men?"
Reaching out, Anakin angrily seized him by the lapels of his coat and hauled him to his feet, shoving him up against the building. "No, I'm not one of Vrone's men, you idiot! I am a Jedi! In fact, I'm the same Jedi you kidnapped, and drugged, and tried to murder. Look at me! Don't you recognize me? You looked into my eyes just before you locked me in that room and set fire to it!"
Mortane cringed, terrified, his eyes wide with recollection. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"Anakin, let him go," Obi-Wan ordered in a quiet, steadying voice. He stepped forward and put his hand on his padawan's arm. "Let him go."
Obeying his master, Anakin released Mortane and took a deep breath. "The very least he could do after all the problems he's caused would be to take us to Nare."
Obi-Wan faced Mortane. "Could you arrange that? Could you take us to meet with Nare P'tol?"
Breathing hard, Mortane stared back at the Jedi nonplused, his mind scrambling to comprehend their strange request.
Obi-Wan softened his tone. "We promise not to harm you. If you would assist us, we would truly appreciate it. We specifically came back to Aremont to find Nare P'tol. We have his sister with us. She needs to know that he's all right. Can you take us to him?"
Mortane began shaking his head. "Nare P'tol?" He turned his head to the side and spat on the ground. "I'll take you to him only if you promise to assassinate him! The filthy traitor! Scurvy, worm-ridden bastard!"
The Jedi exchanged wary looks with each other.
"What are you saying?" Obi-Wan asked, his heart suddenly beating out of rhythm. He could sense the truth radiating from behind Mortane's emotions. "We were informed that Nare P'tol was your leader. He survived and rose to power within ranks of the resistance."
Mortane laughed humorlessly. "Well, I'd say you were sorely misinformed, Jedi. Nare P'tol rose to power all right. But within the ranks of the internal military police, not the resistance. He has betrayed us to Vrone and sold our secrets. He's one of Vrone's spies now." He straightened and melodramatically pulled open his coat. "Go on and blast me if I'm lying. I'd rather be dead than ever defend the name of Nare P'tol."
"He's not lying," Anakin whispered thickly, absorbing the sickening implication of Mortane's words.
Obi-Wan shakily released his breath. "I know." He swallowed hard and closed his eyes briefly, his mind racing. The bounty hunter had deceived Saloma. He was the one who had told her Nare was a member of the resistance. It was a setup after all. A prickling, menacing feeling of impending unrest settled over the Jedi like a dark cloud.
"Anakin, let's go. We need to find Saloma and tell her." He turned on his heel and started walking back towards the Honest Hutt, then paused and faced Mortane. "Will you come with us? If you tell her as well, it may make it easier for her to accept."
Mortane hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. I'll come with you." He spared a glance up at Anakin. "After all, it's the least I could do."
***
Saloma looked up at the time and made a cursory glance around the room to try to find Obi-Wan. Even though he had told her he would be close by, he was no where to be seen. She debated whether she should seek him out and tell him the plan, but then decided against it. She would rather not have him around Devon and believed this meeting would probably go a lot smoother if the Jedi just stayed put. Sighing heavily, she stood up and paid the bartender, then headed for the door.
Devon was waiting for her at the top of the stairs which led out into the alley. He motioned for her to follow him across the street and down a narrow backroad.
A speeder was parked in the shadows, hidden from the platoons of patrol droids that occasionally passed by.
"Quickly," Devon urged, opening the canopy and sliding into the driver's seat. He strapped himself in and glanced over at Saloma. "Are you all set, then?"
Saloma took a deep breath. She smiled slightly and nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."
Devon took her north, away from the docks, and back into the heart of the city. He remained silent, focusing on the road, going slow to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. He faced Saloma and smiled reassuringly.
"It's not much further. Just sit tight," he told her.
Saloma glanced back at him and frowned. His mind was unusually busy, but with random, trivial thoughts like recipes, mathematics, and song lyrics. It seemed as if he was purposefully trying not to think about where they were going or what they were doing. It made Saloma feel uneasy.
When police headquarters loomed before her on the horizon, Saloma suddenly realized she had made a terrible mistake. The bounty hunter was taking her to the jail. Obi-Wan had been right. She had been set up. Frightened into action, she abruptly released the latch lever on the speeder's canopy and threw it open.
Startled, Devon braked and slid the speeder into the side of a guard railing, tearing it down.
Saloma sprung out of the speeder and crashed heavily to the ground, her feet slipping on a patch of snow-covered ice. Pushing herself up with her hands, she struggled to get her legs underneath her, but Devon was on top of her, throwing her back onto the ice. She screamed.
"Hey now, what's all this commotion for?" Devon taunted. "I thought you wanted to see your brother, Nare P'tol. What's he going to think if he hears you were in the neighborhood and didn't stop in to see him?"
Saloma struggled harder. "My brother? Why do you think he's my brother?"
Devon got to his feet and hauled Saloma up after him. "Because he told me. He told me all about you. See, he knew you would eventually come back to find him." Devon reached up and touched Saloma's short hair. "I had your face memorized from his description. Changing your appearance didn't work. I knew what to look for." Saloma spared a glance up at police headquarters. Nare must still be a prisoner. That was how the bounty hunter knew him. Devon had been telling her the truth, only Saloma had mistakenly assumed Nare had joined the resistance. Devon peered over at Saloma to check her reaction. His amiable smile was long gone. "I've known exactly who you were all along, Saloma," he told her in a low menacing tone. "And I'm pretty sure you've figured out who I am now, haven't you?"
Trying to keep her breathing slow and steady, Saloma faced Devon and nodded. "Yes. You're a bounty hunter," she murmured. She glanced forward, then locked her eyes on him again. "But surely, you must know there's no bounty on me. Vrone just wants to send me to Maerske. It's the Jedi he wants. He won't pay you for just me."
Devon shook his head. "That's where you're wrong. I am getting paid for you. Your brother informed Vrone of the close relationship you have with those Jedi. Vrone told me to find you and capture you, and that would bring the Jedi right to him."
Saloma's mouth went dry. Nare had probably been tortured and forced to divulge information about her. Captain Vrone was holding Nare prisoner to get to her to get to Obi-Wan and Anakin.
Devon tightened his grip on her arm and produced a pair of binders from his coat pocket. "No more antics, understand? I don't want to have to hurt you." He crossed her wrists in front of her and secured them together. "I am a gentleman by nature." His dark eyes suddenly lit with realization. "The man you were with tonight--he was one of the Jedi, wasn't he? Of course he was. I can see it in your eyes." He smiled broadly. "The captain will be especially happy to hear that."
The chilling words of the bounty hunter, Emon Kime, who had attacked her back on the cargo ship, echoed hollowly in her mind. 'They'll feel it. They'll come right to me because of you.' Saloma understood it all now.
Panicking, she yanked free of Devon's grasp and pushed him away from her. She tried to make it back to the speeder, running as fast as she could, but he caught up to her. He tackled her, throwing her heavily into the snow.
Saloma screamed in frustration and anguish, pounding Devon's face with her fists until he go ahold of her hands and pinned to her chest. Saloma began to cry, knowing she was about to be tortured, and like her beloved brother, forced to betray the ones she loved.
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