Looking at the love on Astri’s face for her husband, Obi-Wan decided that he would do anything in his power to make sure that did not happen. He remembered a time long ago when Astri had cut off her pretty curls, shaved her head, and learned how to shoot a blaster in order to help him track down Qui-Gon. She had not thought of herself as a brave person, but she had faced down blaster bolts and a laser whip, and had never left his side. No, he would not let anything happen to Astri.
“Bog will not be in trouble if he didn’t do anything wrong,” Obi-Wan told the couple. “I will make sure of that. Now, please excuse me.”
Obi-Wan stepped outside, leaving the sounds of the match behind him. He quickly contacted Jocasta Nu at the Temple.
“I am sending you a list of Senators. I need to know if there is any link among them.” Obi-Wan waited for her to read the list of names. “Does anything come to mind right now?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Jocasta Nu said. “There are many ways Senators can be linked, Obi-Wan. Through sponsoring legislation. Committees. Subcommittees. Special hearings. Oversight subcommittees on special hearings - “
“I get the picture,” Obi-Wan said. “Just do the best you can, as quickly as you can. Can you also look into the Ruling Power, and see if there is some connection with those Senators?”
“Of course. I’ll contact you as soon as I have information.”
Obi-Wan thanked Jocasta Nu and cut the communication. He leaned against the railing and looked out over the sprawling city. Beings streamed through the streets, and he could hear the distant roar of a crowd in the nearby stadium. If the betting were exposed, the Senators involved would be drawn into a scandal. It would not matter if they were guilty or innocent. Their reputations would suffer. Was that the goal?
An insider, Fligh had said. It could be someone in the Ruling Power. Or someone close to the Games themselves.
He called up Bog’s file on his datapad again. He flipped through the holographic files, remembering the notations on Uso Yso’s screen.
The bets had been placed on the bowcaster skill contest, the obstacle course race, and the Podrace. The same events that Aarno Dering had on his datapad.
Obi-Wan contacted Didi on his comlink. “Have you found out where Fligh is staying?”
“The Sleek Cruiser Inn on Grand Eucer Street,” Didi said. “Room 2222. But let me assure you, my friend, this inn is no sleek cruiser. More like a garbage barge.”
“Just make sure Fligh doesn’t go off-planet,” Obi-Wan told Didi. “Contact me if he does.”
“I am your servant, Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan tapped his finger on his comlink, planning his next move. He could handle Fligh, but on the other hand, this was more than a pesky problem. It was time to call in the other Jedi teams.
He activated his comlink and contacted Siri. He filled her in on what he had discovered.
“It seems as though the Ruling Power could be behind this,” he said. “They might want to blackmail Senators in order to gain power in the Senate, getting appointed to powerful posts. But we have no real proof, and we don’t have much time. All three events are scheduled to take place this afternoon.”
“What do you need?” Siri asked, getting to the point as quickly as possible, as she usually did.
“I have to pay a visit to Fligh, and I’d like some company,” Obi-Wan said. “I think some additional Jedi presence is needed.”
“I’ll be there. And I’ll contact Ry-Gaul,” Siri said.
The problem of Anakin entering the Podrace had never left Obi-Wan’s mind. Why had his Padawan done such a thing without telling him? It was not the first time Anakin’s impulsiveness had worried and alarmed Obi-Wan.
His comlink signaled. Anakin was calling. Obi-Wan answered.
“Master, things have developed here,” Anakin said.
“Sebulba has recognized me. Because of that, Deland stepped in to avoid a fight and was injured. He cannot race. I… I offered to race in his place. Doby and Deland are trying to free their sister - “
“And is that your mission on Euceron, to free Djulla?” Obi-Wan asked sternly.
“No,” Anakin said. “But was it Qui-Gon’s mission to free me? Must we follow a mission so exactly that we turn our backs on beings who need help? Every mission has a detour. You’ve told me that.”
“I’ve also told you that it is the mark of a Jedi to recognize whether or not to follow the detour,” Obi-Wan reminded him.
“Then I ask you to let me make this choice,” Anakin replied.
His Padawan’s voice was firm. There was no pleading, no uncertainty. He wanted what he wanted. Was that the right thing in this circumstance?