[Jedi Apprentice] - 11(8)
Obi-Wan looked doubtful. “As long as you’re not the one to cook it,” he said.
CHAPTER 5
Armed with a good description of Fligh, the informant, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan headed to the Senate. “Just ask around,” Didi had told them. “Everyone knows Fligh.”
They walked through the main entrance of the Senate rotunda. The press of beings inside worked against the calm surroundings to create a sense of controlled chaos. Obi-Wan was jostled and bumped by quick-moving Senatorial aides and consorts of various species. Hover-cams buzzed overhead, heading to the vast interior amphitheater to record
the proceedings. Guards dressed in royal blue robes strode by purposefully.
Small cafŠs were tucked into overhangs along the exterior wall, some more populated than others. Qui-Gon stopped to inquire at several of them, and then moved on.
“Didi is right,” he told Obi-Wan. “Everyone knows Fligh. They just don’t know where he is.”
At last they found him in one of the small pocket cafes. This one was deserted. It was past time for midday meal, and the Senate was in session.
Fligh sat at a small table, nursing a glass of muja juice. He was a spindly creature with a long face, prominent ears, and one green prosthetic eye.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan sat at the table. “Didi sent us,” Qui-Gon said.
Fligh looked surprised. Then he licked his lips. “Didn’t know Jedi trafficked in information. Buy, sell, or trade?”
“We are not here to make a deal,” Qui-Gon said. “We need you to tell us how you found out about the two pieces of information you just sold to Didi.”
Fligh wrapped his long, thin fingers around his glass and looked at them slyly. “Why should I tell you? What’s in it for me, I ask?”
“You would be helping Didi,” Qui-Gon said. “He is in trouble. And if you chose not to help him, I would not be pleased.” Qui-Gon gave Fligh a level stare.
Fligh choked on his muja juice, then broke out into nervous laughter. “You are a friend of Didi! I am a friend of Didi! We are all friends! There you go! Of course I want you to be pleased. I’ll tell you everything you wish to know. May I say that I am both helpful and discreet? And generous. May I offer you two some muja juice? Unfortunately at the moment I am out of credits, but I would be happy to order them for you.”
Qui-Gon shook his head. “Just tell us what we want to know, Fligh. How did you find out about the Tech Raiders?”
Fligh shrugged. “Easy. One hears things if one pays attention. And there you go.”
“You just heard it in the air?” Qui-Gon asked.
“I can see you’re a stickler for details,” Fligh said, leaning back and chuckling at Qui-Gon. “Okay, okay. I heard it from their representative on Coruscant. Helb is the broker for stolen tech equipment. One meets him in the Splendor Tavern, he makes the deal. He used to make deals at Didi’s, but the lovely Astri took care of that. Too bad - Didi always gave me juice for free.” Fligh sighed at the lost opportunity.
“What about your information about Senator S’orn?” Qui-Gon asked.
“One has to protect one’s sources, you know,” Fligh stalled.
Qui-Gon gave him a stern look. It was all he had to do. The cowardly Fligh immediately backtracked.
“Okay, okay, I can see you’ll make me talk. I got hold of a confidential memo written by S’orn herself announcing her resignation. It isn’t scheduled to be released until next week. Naturally one could not let such a find go to waste.”
“And how did you get this memo?” Qui-Gon asked.
“How does one learn things? Things happen. A durasheet falls into the trash bin, someone plucks it out, passes it along…” Fligh shrugged. “It’s the way one has to work. A little here, a little there. A favor here, a trade there, and there you go.” He turned to Obi-Wan. “Do you like my eye?”
The abrupt question took Obi-Wan by surprise. “Which one?” he asked politely.
“The green one, of course!” Fligh said, pointing to it. “I lost my own in a little dustup with some Hutts. Isn’t it a beauty?”
“It’s very attractive,” Obi-Wan said.
“Very nice,” Qui-Gon offered, when Fligh turned to him.
“You see? There you go - a trade. A little information goes here, a little goes there, and I get an eye! How else does one survive on Coruscant?”
“One could get a job,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “One could, if one were a different being,” Fligh agreed. “However, one is not.” He shrugged again. “I do the best I can. On my own since I was knee-high, I learned how to get by. Didi is my friend. He has done much for me, and Astri is in my heart as well. I’m sorry Didi is in trouble. I will try to help, Jedi. This I promise.”