Instantly his eyes began to tear again, and he felt the smoke in his lungs, making his breathing difficult. He fought his way forward. Even in this smoke, it would be hard to hide a Hutt.
He had to step over the bodies of the dead and wounded. Obi-Wan tasted smoke and death in his mouth. He felt tiredness seep into his bones. Greed had that effect on him. He could better understand the Mawans, who had fought for ideas, than those who worked for the crimelords. Stamping out greed was impossible; controlling it was a never-ending task. His job would never be finished. In the middle of a battle such as this, a great tide of weariness could wash over him at the thought.
His battle mind had slipped. That wasn’t good. Obi-Wan wrenched back his concentration. Suddenly the bank of datapads burst into flame. They had been hit by a grenade.
Obi-Wan stopped to consider what to do next. But he didn’t have time to change his direction. A percussive force almost blasted him off his feet. The floor rose to meet him and he fell on one knee, his ears ringing. The size of the blast told him that it had been caused by a thermal detonator. More smoke filled the air, and he could hear screams and cries.
He leaped to avoid a sudden stab with a stun baton. His assailant disappeared into the smoke as quickly as he had appeared.
Obi-Wan decided to find Decca. If he followed her, he might discover her exit strategy and her backup plans. Perhaps she would lead him to another hideout. He reached the end of the substation at last. He could just glimpse Decca lowering her bulk into a specially designed speeder, wider and larger than normal. The pilot jammed its throttle forward, and it sped down the back tunnel.
He had missed the chance to follow her by seconds. There was no other speeder in the tunnel to take.
Obi-Wan turned. The smoke was clearing. He saw the gang members lying on the floor, or sitting, their heads in their hands. Some who could still run had taken off after the retreating members of Striker’s gang.
Swanny was holding out a hand, helping Rorq to rise. They had taken cover behind a garbage bin.
Obi-Wan scanned the crowd. Where was Anakin? He hurried over to Swanny and Rorq. “Did Anakin follow the others?”
Swanny shook his head. “I don’t know, I didn’t see. He pushed us back here just before something very big exploded.”
The thermal detonator. What if Anakin had been close to it?
Something lay on the floor nearby. Obi-Wan felt a terrible dread steal over him. Slowly, he walked forward and crouched down by the object.
He picked it up and ran his fingers over it. The hilt was caked with dust and one deep scar now marred the finish.
It was Anakin’s lightsaber.
CHAPTER SEVEN
At least I’m alive, Anakin thought. I may be stupid, but I’m alive.
It was a very un-Jedi thought. Jedi did not berate themselves. Anakin didn’t care. He felt stupid and careless. He tried to rearrange himself within the garbage container he found himself in, but there was no room, and whenever he moved, his shoulder sent out a scream of protest. He wasn’t hurt badly. He had landed on his shoulder when the thermal detonator hit. He had seen it but not soon enough. It had exploded, and he’d been hit.
And dropped his lightsaber. Something a Jedi was never, ever supposed to do.
Now he was being brought somewhere. He had been dazed from the thermal detonator, picked up like a sack of onions, and dropped into a container on top of a pile of greasy bones from the feast. His assailant had ripped his utility belt off his tunic, so he’d lost his comlink, too. He had been banged down the tunnel, been thrown into a vehicle, and now was careening… somewhere.
He couldn’t wait to hear what his Master would say about this one.
Things were bad enough with Obi-Wan. What would happen when he found out that Anakin had lost his lightsaber and been captured?
Anakin pictured the exchange.
I saw the thermal detonator too late, Master. It was a surprise.
There are no surprises when the Force is with you, my young Padawan.
Anakin grimaced. He couldn’t wait for that one. If he ever got out of here.
He moved his fingers along the container. It was a standard-issue garbage bin. The lid was hinged and had a simple lock. If he could manage to get on his back, he might be able to kick the lid with enough power to shatter the lock.
He could try it. He was on fire to get out of this stinking prison. But thanks to Obi-Wan, he had learned how to wait.
He was almost certain that he’d been captured by Striker’s gang. Without his lightsaber, he might not be taken for a Jedi. Perhaps he was one of many prisoners. He guessed that he would be taken to Striker’s hideout. He could bide his time and observe. They were here to gather information, after all. Maybe he could discover something valuable about Striker, something they could use.