On the far side of the open market, Obi-Wan ducked behind a stack of crates. His tracker passed by quickly, but by the time Obi-Wan emerged from his hiding place he had disappeared again. Quickly scanning the crowd, Obi-Wan pressed on. But he was not able to find a lone figure in a helmet wandering the streets.
Obi-Wan was beginning to worry that he had failed his assignment when he suddenly spotted a flutter of gray fabric ahead. Hurrying forward, he saw the figure vanish around a corner.
He definitely looks humanoid, Obi-Wan thought. But male or female?
Obi-Wan rounded the corner quickly and nearly collided with a group of seedy-looking characters. Annoyed by the intrusion, two of the group glared openly at the Jedi. A third pulled out a blaster and leveled it at Obi-Wan’s chest.
“Wrong turn,” he growled. His arm was heavily bandaged above the wrist, but the heavy blaster did not waver in his hand.
Obi-Wan kept his eyes on the man’s face as he pulled his lightsaber from his belt. Had he been at Dr. Lundi’s lecture on Coruscant? Or on the ship? The young Jedi had been fairly sure that he and Qui-Gon were the only passengers to disembark besides the professor.
“I’m afraid this is your unlucky day,” another thug spat.
Obi-Wan stepped forward slightly and ignited his lightsaber. That action alone was usually enough to intimidate an adversary. But the thugs didn’t back down. In fact, now there were two blasters aimed at him.
“Ah, a lightsaber,” one of the armed lowlifes mocked. “But does he use it wisely for power and vengeance, or foolishly for peace?”
The rest of the thugs smirked, and Obi-Wan’s mind jolted. He’d heard those words before, and recently - at Dr. Lundi’s lecture. These lowlifes were obviously familiar with Lundi and his work. Was this an ambush? Obi-Wan wanted to ask, but one of the hoodlums fired before he could get a word out.
Obi-Wan swung. Too late. The bolt grazed his shoulder, and he felt a hot pain tear through his flesh. He ignored the fierce throbbing as he leaped forward and swung again. This time he hit his target and severed a thug’s finger from its hand.
The lowlife howled in pain. “You can’t win, Jedi,” he growled. Clutching his wounded hand, he fled deeper into the alley. His wide-eyed companions were quick to follow.
After clipping his lightsaber to his belt, Obi-Wan checked his shoulder. The throbbing had subsided. The wound was minor and would heal quickly.
By the time Obi-Wan stepped into the open street, he had lost track of his pursuer. He stood completely still for a few moments, refocusing his energy to determine which way he should go. The answer was not entirely clear.
Obi-Wan started off in a new direction, heading away from the crowded marketplace. The city center soon gave way to large, storehouse
type buildings. Obi-Wan was satisfied that his pursuer was long gone when he sensed Qui-Gon’s presence. Obi-Wan stopped before one of the storehouses. Then, doubling back to the door, he ducked inside.
Obi-Wan knew immediately that his Master was not alone in the storehouse. Murk Lundi was here as well. Moving carefully behind large crates and machinery, Obi-Wan made his way toward the center of the large room. Soon he could hear two men carrying on a conversation.
“I need a Nolarian 6000 drill immediately,” one of the voices said. Obi-Wan recognized it as Dr. Lundi’s.
Peering out from behind a vehicle, Obi-Wan saw that Lundi was talking to a machinery dealer. The dealer was holding a large wrench and his forearms were covered in grease.
“Don’t have one,” the dealer said flatly. “There’s a shortage. And the way the mining safety committee has been watching us, there will be for a good while.”
“I need a 6000. Today,” Lundi repeated.
The dealer sighed, as if he got requests for enormous subaquatic drill rigs all the time. “Are you listening?” he asked, annoyed. “I said I don’t have one. And I don’t know when I will.”
Lundi stared at the man, clenching and unclenching his many hands into fists. His face contorted into a twisted scowl.
Behind the machinery, Obi-Wan suddenly felt a little hazy. His vision blurred and the voices around him echoed in his ears. From somewhere in his daze he realized that Dr. Lundi’s anger was affecting him. Yoda had told Obi-Wan that anger and hatred clouded one’s mind but he’d never felt this muddled by someone else’s anger before. Jedi Master Yarael Poof had amazing powers of Force suggestion. Perhaps all Quermians were telepathic.
By concentrating hard, Obi-Wan was able to clear his vision and his head. He focused on what was transpiring in front of him. Lundi was now shouting at the machinery dealer.
“Pathetic weakling,” he raged. “Only a fool would