[Jedi Quest] - 06(13)

So maybe the best thing he could do was lie here and wait to be released.

As he had that thought, Anakin felt the speeder slow. It stopped, and the container was grabbed roughly, then dropped. Anakin had braced himself, but he banged his head on the side. Patience was hard to find now, with a smarting head, but he reached for it, calming himself for whatever lay ahead.

The container lid was yanked open. Rough hands reached in. Anakin let his body go slack. He was grabbed and slung over someone’s shoulder, then dumped on the ground.

Anakin looked up into cruel yellow eyes.

“There’s your welcome, slug.” A giant lmbat smiled down at him with mossy teeth. Then he reached for his utility belt, where a pair of stun cuffs dangled. They looked like delicate bracelets in his huge hand. He slapped them on to Anakin. Then with a grunt, he simply turned and walked off.

Anakin rose unsteadily to his feet. His shoulder still ached, and he could feel a lump rising on the side of his forehead near his left eye.

Around him, activity swirled, but no one paid him any attention. He was free to wander, but the stun cuffs guaranteed he would not be able to wander far. From what he could tell, he was the only prisoner.

Anakin did what he knew Obi-Wan would want him to do. He observed.

The substation was even larger than the one Decca had used. Banks of monitoring equipment, now unused, ran along one wall. Benches and chairs had been ripped from their floor supports and were piled in a corner. A weapons rack held an impressive array of small arms.

The gang members were busy and didn’t even glance at him. Some were checking and cleaning weapons. Others sat at improvised computer stations, entering information. Others manned comm units. Everyone seemed to have a job. Compared to the slipshod air of Feeana’s operation and the chaos and suppressed violence of Decca’s, this seemed like a professional operation.

Which told him that of all three criminals, Striker was the one to worry about.

Anakin had no idea where he was. How would Obi-Wan ever be able to find him?

But he didn’t want Obi-Wan to find him. Not until he had a chance to learn something. It would redeem him in his Master’s eyes. Maybe he could discover something important and then escape.

Anakin drifted closer to the computer banks. He focused his attention on the fingers of a man entering information. He tapped into the Force to help him. He felt time slow down, and he tried to put words together from the letters the man was entering.

B I 0… he missed several letters, someone walking by… P 0 N

T 0 X

Frustrated, Anakin leaned forward to see. A huge hand suddenly landed on his sore shoulder, sending a fresh jolt of pain through his body. “The boss wants to see you.”

Without checking to make sure that he was following, the lmbat loped across the space. He accessed a durasteel door that led to a room off the main substation. He waited for it to open, then shoved Anakin inside. The door slid shut behind him.

The room was almost empty except for a bare table and one chair. The man standing in front of him was smiling and holding out his hands. “Forgive my manner of bringing you, my friend. I was impatient to see you.”

Anakin felt shock ripple through him.

It was their greatest enemy, Granta Omega.





CHAPTER EIGHT


“You want us to bring you to Striker’s hideout?” Swanny asked. “But no one knows where that is.”

“You said you knew where everyone was, and everything that went on,” Obi-Wan said.

“A slight exaggeration can often seal a deal,” Swanny said. “Note the word ‘hideout,’ however. That implies that something is hidden, doesn’t it? “

“Then we’re just going to have to find it,” Obi-Wan said.

“We?” Rorq asked. “What do we have to do with it?”

“Anakin came close to that thermal detonator because of the two of you,” Obi-Wan said. “He saved your lives.”

“And we’re sure he wouldn’t want us to lose them, after all the trouble he went to,” Rorq said earnestly.

“Look, Master Obi,” Swanny said. “The reason Striker is so effective is because nobody knows anything about him. They don’t know where he came from. They don’t know his name. They don’t know where he lives. They don’t know when he’ll strike again. There are kilometers and kilometers of tunnels, some of them half finished, and empty substations on the perimeters. He could be anywhere. And it’s not like we ever wanted to look very hard.”

“Then we’ll smoke him out,” Obi-Wan said.

“I think I’ve had enough smoke for one night,” Swanny said, rubbing his fingers along his smoke-blackened face.