“Something is wrong,” he murmured.
Anakin threw his own attention out like a net. He was aware of a change in the sound of the crowd. “A disturbance,” he said.
“This way.” Obi-Wan stepped up his pace. He threaded through the pedestrians.
Ahead was a large square. Food stalls were packed in tightly, and cafŠs ringed the edges.
Anakin saw a knot of beings across the square. They were packed so tightly it was difficult to see what they were looking at.
He heard a roar of anger. He did not know the language, but it was easy to guess the intent.
“Hurry.” Obi-Wan tried to make it through the crowd, but the beings were crowded so densely now that it was impossible.
“Get out of my way or I’ll kill you!” Someone shouted the words in Basic.
Now Anakin could see a Phlog, a giant being with a vibrosword, standing over a small Ortolan, a blue-furred creature armed with only a cup of juice. The Phlog waved the vibrosword close to his neighbor’s nose. Instead of retreating, the crowd surged forward, interested in a possible fight.
“Go ahead, you tub of bantha fat,” the Ortolan sneered.
“This isn’t good,” Obi-Wan muttered.
Suddenly the Phlog took his vibrosword and slashed through a small stone table. The group who had been sitting at it fell backward. One of them sprang up and withdrew a blaster. The giant Phlog grabbed both huge slabs of stone and lifted them over his head.
“I’ll kill you all!”
Frustrated, Obi-Wan tried to get through the crowd. The beings had formed a solid wall of flesh and muscle. The Jedi could not move. But they weren’t about to fail in their objective before the Games had even begun.
CHAPTER TWO
Anakin saw a sudden flash of blue. A lightsaber danced in the air and came down, slicing expertly through the thick slabs of stone. The movement was so fast that a tiny curl of smoke was the only evidence of the lightsaber’s trail. The slabs dissolved into rocks and dust. The Phlog howled as one of the stone pieces fell on his foot.
“That should slow you down a minute.”
Jedi Knight Siri’s tone was pleasant, but it rang with the shimmer of durasteel. Next to her stood Ferus Olin, her Padawan. His lightsaber was raised and ready, his expression hard. He was prepared to spring if anyone moved, and everyone seemed to know it. A hush settled on the crowd.
The Phlog stood awkwardly, holding his foot. “Who are you?” he bellowed.
The Euceron whose table had been pulverized quickly shoved his blaster into his belt. “Ah, Jedi. Just defending myself,” he muttered, backing away.
The Ortolan nodded rapidly, his blue fur flying. “Easy in such crowds to bump by accident.”
“Exactly,” Siri said. “So an apology is called for.” “Sorry,” the Ortolan said quickly.
“By both of you,” Siri said meaningfully, her gaze boring into Phlog, who towered several meters over her blond head.
The Phlog hesitated. He was not accustomed to apologizing for his temper. Even with a lightsaber centimeters from his neck.
For a moment, it seemed that the Phlog would launch an attack on Siri. She was ready.
By now Obi-Wan and Anakin had snaked through the crowd and were standing by, close enough to spring forward if needed. With a look, Obi-Wan told Anakin to hang back.
Ferus Olin stepped forward. “Think twice, my friend,” he said in a soft tone. “Then think again.”
Anakin saw the admiration on his Master’s face at the coolness of Ferus’s approach. A flare of jealousy rose inside him. Ferus always knew the right thing to say and the right way to say it. Ferus was only two years older than Anakin, but he was known for his maturity.
“Well, well, my fault,” the Phlog said in false cheerfulness. “Let me buy you another juice.”
He bent over the small Ortolan and led him into the cafŠ.
Siri deactivated her lightsaber. “There. Everyone is sorry. Incident over.” Her clear voice sailed out over the crowd. “We can all get back to what we were doing.”
The crowd that had been eager to witness a brawl suddenly melted away. Siri caught sight of Obi-Wan.
“Just a minute too late, as usual,” she said.
“We were just waiting to see how you’d handle it,” Obi-Wan answered. “I always wanted to see you go against a Phlog.”
Anakin watched Obi-Wan and Siri. A stranger would never know that they were old friends.
He nodded a greeting at Ferus, who nodded stiffly back. There was no need to pretend that they liked each other. Ferus had warned him once that he did not trust him and would keep an eye on him. This had infuriated Anakin, and he still wasn’t over it. He had let his anger go, but his resentment still simmered. He knew how a Jedi was supposed to handle that, but he couldn’t.