[Jedi Quest] - 06(10)

“We can certainly give you the location of Decca’s camp,” Swanny said. “That is no problem.”

“And your awesome Jedi skills would no doubt allow you to smuggle yourself in,” Rorq added helpfully. Obi-Wan just waited.

“I can see that you are looking for more from us,” Swanny said.

“Which you already promised,” Obi-Wan said. “Unless you’d like to take this up with the Provisional Committee.”

“N0000,” Swanny said, drawing the word out. “Don’t think I’d want to do that. Maybe there is a way to get you inside. There’s a revel tonight.”

“A revel?” Anakin asked.

“Decca won a skirmish today with Striker,” Swanny said. “She always throws a big party so her gang can celebrate. Food, drink, music… and that’s where Rorq and I come in. I just have one question.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin waited.

“Can you sing?” Swanny asked.

The band was called Swanny and the Rooters. Swanny told the Jedi that they had played at many of Decca’s revels. If they showed up at this one, Decca would assume that someone from her gang had booked them. They would be taking a chance, but not a very big one.

Obi-Wan and Anakin had to take the place of the other two band members. Swanny handed Obi-Wan a vioflute and Anakin a keyboard.

“Just fake it,” he told them. “I’m so good no one will notice you can’t play.”

They set up in a corner of the vast substation while swaggering beings from all over the galaxy chugged flameouts while feasting on meat and pastries. A Whipid, his fur matted with sweat and chunks of food, handed two mugs of grog to a Kamarian, who rested one on his tusk and downed the other.

“Fun crowd,” Anakin muttered to Obi-Wan.

“Just what I was thinking,” Obi-Wan said through his teeth. He settled onto a stool, resting the vioflute uneasily against his shoulder. It had been surprisingly easy to crash the party - but that didn’t mean the rest would be easy.

Anakin sat next to him, holding his handheld keyboard. He would have to pretend to play it. Swanny and Rorq needed backup singers, however.

“Just a few ‘whee-whoas’ on the choruses,” Swanny swiveled around to tell them. “No solos or anything. You can follow along, can’t you?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan assured him.

Swanny and Rorq ripped into a lively song, and Anakin’s foot began to tap. He was surprised to find that they were good musicians.

Swanny winked at him. “Wastewater is my life, but music is a close second.”

Decca the Hutt entered the room and heaved her enormous bulk onto a repulsorlift platform obviously crafted for her, large and low and festooned with shimmersilk pillows. Her lieutenants surrounded her, jockeying for position as she settled herself in. There were three, one of them a Kamarian who sat at her right, obviously her most trusted assistant. His two tails waved as he leaned over to speak directly in her ear.

“I wish we could hear what he’s saying,” Obi-Wan murmured, pretending to pluck the strings on his vioflute.

“Sing,” Swanny hissed as he and Rorq swung into the chorus.

Anakin began to hum the backup, and beside him, Obi-Wan joined in. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan could not manage to find the melody. Swanny shot him a horrified look.

“Uh, not so loud,” he hissed. “Maybe you shouldn’t sing, after all.”

Anakin hid his smile. He was glad his Master wasn’t good at everything.

“Look in the corner behind Decca,” Obi-Wan said to Anakin under his breath. “There’s a bank of datapads. I wonder if we could get close enough to take a look at what’s on them.”

“If she keeps downing those flameouts, we might,” Anakin said.

“Notice how she’s listening to the Kamarian, while the Ranat tries to get closer.”

Anakin watched. The Kamarian adjusted the pillows for Decca with his four arms while he spoke. He had Decca’s full attention. It was almost comical the way the meter tall Ranat tried to nestle into the folds of Decca’s fat in order to hear what was being said.

Anakin wasn’t sure what conclusions to draw from what he saw. But he knew that later his Master would ask him about his observations, so he watched carefully as Decca conferred and nodded. Then he slowly gazed around the room, noting the side tunnels and the placement of guards. He estimated there must be at least forty gang members at the party, which meant there were others on the surface and serving as guards. But how many? No doubt during their break they would be able to mingle in the crowd.

Decca signaled to Swanny, and he stopped playing. Decca held out her huge arms. Her flesh trembled. The substation fell silent.