Master Apprentice Archive A Little Night Fiction Quick search:

A Little Night Fiction

by Briony ( Hippediva@aol.com )

Disclaimer: George, yadda yadda

Category: POV, AU, Qui/Obi, Action-adventure

Pairing: Q/O

Rating: Hmmmmm Hard R/light XXX??

Category: AU-noir

Spoiler: none

Warning: Dangerous curves

Summary: A recognisable jaunt into a different Jedi world that's closer to the Inner Sactum than ILM. Pour yourself a drink and remember, put your lips together and blow...

Note: This originally appeared in Sian's wonderful "Force of A Different Colour" zine. Thanks to Alex for the beta. If my muses continue to behave, the sequel will be in "Force of a Different Colour II".

I woke up in my desk chair, snoring. Not too unusual but damned uncomfortable. LD26 was rumbling around the reception room doing who-knows-what, probably making coffee. I yawned and licked my lips, thinking I’d better remember to brush my teeth before attempting that battery acid.

My mouth felt like a bantha stampede had used it as a shortcut. Yeah, well, that’ll teach me to mix Alderian brandy and Twi’lek perfume on a Tuesday night. LD had thoughtfully put the morning news up on the holovid screen and I clicked through it with one eye open, trying to ignore the little man pounding away on my frontal lobe.

More Senate speeches on the “Morality Issue”. Blah-blah-blah. I snorted. Politicians pandering morality were like Hutts taking the anti-gambling oath. My head felt thick. LD brought in a slice of java and I settled back to read all about dear old Coruscant.

Another shipment of spice headed off at the pass by the Coruscant New Police. That meant it would be out on the street in three standard hours at twice the price. Now if it had been confiscated by the Jedi, it would’ve been another story. That’s one thing I’ll say for the Jedi. They’re straight up honest. Thick-headed, hide-bound, and sometimes unbelievably stupid, but they’re honest. I know. I used to be one.

Yeah, I used to be part of their little army of Force-wielding do-gooders until I found out just how dense they could get. When I lost one too many of the bad guys due to “insufficient evidence” and got called onto the Council carpet for my trouble, I got out. I still work with them every once in a while, when they don’t get in my way. I went out on my own. The pay’s not good, but I can follow a hunch and have a good reputation for solving my cases, without worrying about red tape and all the niceties of the law.

My name’s Jinn and I’m a private enforcer.

I rocked back into my chair and started on the entertainment news. Another tony actor caught in a series of porno vids. Crazy bastards. They had the galaxy by the tail end. Why a big name star like Win Raisa would bother doing butt vids I don’t know. But that’s the holovid industry. They’re all a little screwy.

I scanned down the page a little more. There was Laen Deka’s obit: the usual industry bullshit, a fine actor, a great individual, a true humanitarian and a close personal friend...blah, blah, blah. I swear the reporters are worse than the politicians for babbling. This one was another drug overdose. Actors! They’re all either dopers or thrill-junkies.

I had just switched to the funny pages when LD buzzed the comlink.

“Mr. Jinn, someone to see you.”

“Yeah? Who at this hour?” I wasn’t expecting company and I didn’t want any.

He was drop-dead gorgeous, the prettiest thing I’d seen in a Dagobah eon. I know I’ve got a weakness for red-heads but he was a white choco-covered cherry sprinkled with nutmeg and moving across my office floor like he meant every step.

It was suddenly awfully hot.

He was watching me doubtfully, a little crease furrowed between the most beautiful brows I’d ever seen.

“Can I sit down?” His voice was soft and lilting, with just a touch of an outworld burr.

“Sure.” I growled. Now, I’m not stupid and I don’t usually get beautiful young men in my office at 9 am. This smelled big and I don’t like big without a shower and a shave. I raked a hand through my hair and tried to appear a little less rumpled.

“What can I do for you?”

His eyes were amazing, huge aqua pools under those amber brows, fringed with the longest lashes I’d ever seen. I wondered how he kept them open and if they were real.

“I need some help.” He sounded delightfully young and scared. Yeah, he was scared all right. He fumbled in the breast pocket of an expensive cashmere coat for a cigarette case and pulled one out with long, trembling fingers. I lit it for him.

“I-I-I’ve lost something and I have to find it.” He leaned forward, fastening those limpid eyes to mine, all breath and fear and innocence. Too much of a good thing. I smirked.

“Yeah? Why not try the lost and found at Severin’s Department Store? Turn it off, Junior. What’s your name?”

He blushed to his russet hairline, a wash of deep fuschia that crept across his face in a wave. There was a spark of anger in his eyes. I hid a grin. Redheads usually do have tempers.

“Umm...will this be...uh, between us?” If he kept biting his lip like that, I was going to need a refresher of that brandy.

“Yeah, sure, kid.”

Another spark. He didn’t like being called ‘kid’.

“My name’s Ben. Ben Kenbi. I--oh...” He took a long drag off his cigarette and settled on looking adorable and lost.

Somewhere in the haze of my hangover, a light blinked on. I recognised his face from the entertainment ads. Kenbi---Sarac Lake Productions newest star, the next big thing. Every gossip column had been full of him for the past month since the opening of “Wormwood Cocktail”. There were rumours of Tilden Awards, even Galaxy Globes. The kid was on the fast track to the top. So what in Sith’s socks was he doing in my sub-level office at 9 am on a Wednesday morning, looking scared to death?

I also have a weakness for mysteries. Redheads and mysteries. They’ll be the death of me.

“Alright, Ben. We’ll keep this nice and private. What’s the problem?” I was reaching out, trying to weasel my way into that pretty head of his. Oddly enough, I wasn’t getting very far. Interesting. I made a note of his shields.

He reached into that breast pocket again and pulled out a ring. I couldn’t suppress a long whistle. It was a rock and a half: 5 carats of chrysolite firegem, cut in a trillion shape and set in a hunk of palatium that would weigh down a Wookie’s paw. He dropped it on the desk, biting his lip again.

“I lost it.”

“Huh?”

“The original. I-I lost it. This is a fake. If Teren finds out...oh, damn...” He took another drag off the cigarette. His eyes were too bright.

I picked up the rock and turned it in my hands. Yes, it was a fake, but a good one, probably an insurer’s phony.

“Who’s Teren?”

“Teren Gall. He’s my--oh dammit...” The poor kid was trying so hard not to cry. I handed him a handkerchief and waited.

Teren Gall was Sarac Lake’s top director. Chances were he was also Kenbi’s lover. He had a rep as a tough bastard who could make or break a star in an afternoon.

“Teren wants to bond with me. The ring was a Solstice gift. He-he’ll be so angry...”

“How’d you lose it?”

He blushed again, this time his face going scarlet. ‘Ah-ha’, I thought. ‘Now we come to the real problem.’

“I was at a party Solstice Eve. I had a little too much to drink and...” he paused to pull out another cigarette, despite the one still burning in the ashtray. His hands were really shaking bad.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t very...discreet.”

Oh-ho!! A bad boy, at that!! Figures. Thrill-seeking actors! Well, I wasn’t scared of Gall and his lot. Besides, the poor kid’s career was on the line, although it seemed a shame for him to have to sell himself to the likes of Gall. I shrugged. That was his problem.

“So you slipped out with someone?”

He hung his head and nodded. “Not a smart thing to do. Teren gets pretty jealous. I fell asleep. When I woke up, the ring was gone. I-I don’t think Tan would take it. I’ve known him for years and years and he’s never done anything like it and I really don’t....”

“Whoa!!! Slow down. Who’s Tan? Don’t tell me. Your boyfriend? I mean, before Gall?”

He had the grace to look miserably ashamed. I shook my head.

“Listen, kid. A rock like that would tempt anyone. I can try to find it. But it’s been gone for a while now.”

“It would be hard to fence.” he whispered. “There’s an image inside the stone if you look at it closely. A firesprite with wings. Interior carving from Mernila.”

This time I couldn’t even whistle.

“You are one dumb bastard, Kenbi. A thing like that is priceless. Why’d you wear it out?”

He wouldn’t look up, but pulled hard at that cigarette like it was a lifeline. His head was wreathed in smoke, an insubstantial halo.

“Gall had given it to me that evening. He’d just proposed bonding.” Kenbi picked up the phony. “I had this made fast, but if he looks hard, he’ll know. “

When he looked up, there were tears beginning to run down his face, next to that adorable cinammon-dusted nose. Like I said, I’m a sucker for redheads.

“Ok. I can try. I need Tan’s address. And yours. And just for good measure, give me Gall’s studio office number. Oh, and 500 credits retainer.”

He nodded and pulled out a billfold, forking over the cash without a murmur. I rose and handed him back the ring.

“Take it easy, kid. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a rock like that. I’ll call. Write down those addresses and numbers for me.”

I watched him leave. Just before he opened the door, he tilted his head up and squared his shoulders, all the swagger coming back into his spine. He turned and looked at me with those melting eyes.

“Please. Please help me, Mr. Jinn.”

Then he was gone in a haze of smoke and cashmere, leaving a trace of a Force-signature full of confusion.

I couldn’t get his face out of my mind, even when I turned on the cold water in the shower. There was something about him that wasn’t jiving; something in those shields. Well, there were lots of Force-sensitives out there who weren’t part of the Jedi’s monopoly. From his accent, I had him pegged for another pretty offworld kid with stars in his eyes. He’d been lucky enough to get the stars and dumb enough to put it all on the line for a roll in the hay. Silly boy. I guess acting doesn’t require much in the way of common sense.

I checked out the first address: Tan. He wasn’t home, so I picked open the lock and took a look around his cheap sub-level flat. There was nothing there that I didn’t expect except a holostill of him and Kenbi, taken at some tropical resort. There was something about it that bugged me. I snapped a copy with my digicam and went to look for the landlord.

The landlord wasn’t much help. Tan Girat had moved in two months earlier. He was quiet and kept to himself. Seems he was a production runner at Sarac Lake Studios. I wondered if Kenbi had gotten him the job.

There was a trail of sorts in all this, an elusive, indistinct path that was clouding my progress just as surely as it was clouding Kenbi’s career. I don’t like clouds. They block my view of the sun.

Somewhere near three in the afternoon, I fought my way through the Coruscant traffic lanes to Sarac Lake Studios. It didn’t take much to snow the gate guard into letting me inside. I was lucky that Sarac Lake was one of those high-flown places that used sentient guards instead of the usual droids. I just fuzzed the Ithicni a little and followed my nose to the tower office suite. It saved me the trouble of dismantling a droid and getting my second-best suit grease-stained.

The tower suite was damned impressive. So was the secretary. Just my luck, a blonde this time, with big brown eyes and a balcony to match. She was a sharp one and it took a bit more push to get to ‘wait’ in Gall’s office. So I had a date for Friday night. Kenbi’s 500 credits would just about pay for dinner. I sighed as I looked out of the big picture window with its view over the plaza complex. I’d better get another day or two from this job or I’d be exactly where I’d been when that pert ass of Kenbi’s had sashayed its way into my office: broke.

I amused myself for a while, checking the artwork on the walls: all of it original, the latest in avant-garde. Crap, most of it, but expensive crap. In fact, I could probably have paid the rent on my office for a dozen Standard with the crap hanging over the sofa.

Something about the sofa didn’t smell right. You bet it didn’t smell right. It was a little too far from the wall and there was a pair of shoes sticking out behind it.

The shoes were attached to Teren Gall’s feet. And Gall’s feet were attached to his very dead body. I didn’t need to check his pulse. There was a big blaster hole smack in the centre of his forehead.

So much for Kenbi’s bonding ceremony.

I figured I had about ten minutes before Blondie came back in to check on me, so I went through his pockets quickly.

Well, what do you know!!? That rat bastard had been setting the kid up. There was the rock along with a holonet mail print-out. I pocketed them both and headed out the door.

Some days and some cases just stink of bad luck. This was turning out to be one of them: the lift door opened and I was face to face with Sr. Lt. Mace Windu, Jedi. Mace and I go back a long, long way, most of it bad road.

Well, it’ll be a cold day in a Sith hell when I can’t run rings around Windu, at least for a little while. I gave him some cock and bull story about a blackmailer and a starlet and got out of there fast. I knew that the Jedi would show up at my office soon, but it would be enough time to stash the ring and that print-out. Whatever this case was all about, I didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of it and I don’t like being set up. If that brat ingenue was going to play games, he’d find I know a few tricks myself.

By the time I made my way to my office, I’d had time to look at the holonet piece. It was coded. Once in the office, I settled down to a tall drink and my decoder software. I had expected shoddy work: most of the holovid industry thinks in terms of drama and always underestimates the cops. It took me a less than ten minutes to crack but I was still reeling when LD announced my old friend Windu.

I stashed the print-out and the ring in the false bottom of my desk drawer.

Windu was in full Jedi gear, staring down at me like he was looking at a bug. I stared right back.

“Hiya, Mace. Want a drink?”

He didn’t waste any time.

“Jinn, what the hell were you doing up in Gall’s office? You see anything?”

“Just the traffic and a load of bad art.”

Mace leaned over my desk with a look that would have frozen hot tea on Tatooine.

“You’d better give me a damned good reason for being in that office.”

I shrugged and poured us both a drink of my stock not-so-good brandy.

“A case I have. And before you go into hyperdrive, I do have a license and client confidentiality is still privileged, last time I checked the books.”

“Don’t be too sure you’ll keep that license, Jinn.”

I told him as much as I thought he needed to know and tried to get a few pointers out of him at the same time. He wasn’t talking much. I told him how I’d found Gall’s body. I didn’t tell him about the ring or the paper and managed to find out that the blaster was a type 4, class B Conron; an expensive little piece, favoured by expensive bodyguards to expensive high-society types. Interesting. I knew I wanted another long talk with the Kenbi kid once I got tall, dark and pissed-off out of my hair.

Mace finally left me with an official warning to stay clear of Sarac Lake Studios and a tongue-lashing that might have hurt if I had any feelings. Boo-hoo. Guess I don’t.

The minute he was gone, I refilled my glass and settled down with that hunk of paper. Now, print-outs aren’t all that common and finding them conveniently planted in a stiff’s pocket is even less so. This one was a dilly. It was from the late, lamented Laen Deka whose recent migration from star-billing to heavenly choir-singing had been all over the papers and it wasn’t a thank you note. Splotched with stains that smelled like good scotch and salt water, it contained enough epithets to fuel our local shock jock’s midnight holovid show for a Standard. Seems that Deka didn’t like making porno vids. In fact, he was quite eloquent on the subject. And he really didn’t like the “Starbright Casino”. Well, I like a bit of gambling as much as the next guy, so I dug out my tux, brushed off the collar and set about finding a fix into the joint.

The hovercab ride alone cost a fortune. The ‘Starbright’ is a favourite watering hole for the rich and famous and the wanna-bes and cling-ons they attract. I guess my tux looked its age, because I wasn’t getting anywhere near the casino. I settled for the bar and waited until I could slip behind it. From there, it was a simple matter of a towel over my arm and I was carrying a tray of champagne around roulette and Sabac tables.

If they had doused all the lights, it would still have been day-bright in there with all the glitter. There wasn’t a face I hadn’t seen in the gossip columns or the financial pages, all dressed to the nines and playing for higher stakes than I’ve even seen in my life. Nice work if you can get it!!

Then Lady Luck decided that I was her main man for the night. Some stuffed-shirt head-waiter shoved a tray of bottles into my hands and pushed me toward a small hallway and into a plush elevator. This was getting interesting.

Upstairs, there was no mistaking it: a very expensive and exclusive bar with corridors leading to very decorative bedrooms. A brothel. How nice. Even nicer were the occupants. Every single one of them was a Sarac Lake star, paired up with offworld business types. And I mean stars, not lowly little B-pic starlets. These were the creme de la creme; the highest paid, most drooled-over fantasy fodder in the galaxy. All available for what I could only imagine was a very fancy price.

Ok. All the pieces were starting to fit. Sarac Lake was financing its own operation by pimping its star attractions to more than the vid-going public. Big business types get big star for a night, dump a few million into a new production or was there something else? Whatever it was, the whole thing would’ve been a smelly mess on Hoth. Some of the things in Deka’s nasty little note made sense: Gall had been pimping him here for a few months and he wanted out. He got out all right. Suddenly, Laen Deka’s death didn’t seem to be just another druggie star’s demise. And as for who killed Gall, I’d just bet there was a line around the block.

I was starting to get some strange looks and decided that loitering around wasn’t a good idea. I went back down to the casino, ditched the towel and was just heading out of the door when I heard a muffled argument in the coat room.

“I don’t want to, Jance! Listen, Teren’s not here. Please? I won big tonight.”

It was Kenbi’s voice and he sounded really unhappy. I slid behind a rack of fur.

Kenbi was talking to an ugly character named Dev Jance. I know Jance real well. He’s one of Jert Sagget’s office-boys and an all-around nasty piece of work. He had the kid by the arm and was looking to hustle him upstairs. It didn’t take genius to figure out why.

“How big?” Good old Jance!! Always a sucker for a credit. Funny, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t really equipped to be the cavalry at the moment and I didn’t like the idea of that fresh-faced kid up there getting pawed or worse.

“Three thousand. It’s all yours. Just let me go home. Teren wouldn’t like it. You know that!”

“No one’s gonna touch you, ya dumb brat. They just wanna look. Kind of a screen test for your next picture.” Jance had his hands all over the kid, who managed to stay still even if he did look pretty scared. I had to admire his style.

“Please, Jance.”

Someone else came into the coatroom, Kenbi slipped away and I followed quickly. He bolted to a hover-limo and sped away like the Sith horde was after him. Poor kid. It sure was beginning to look as though they were.

I got back to the office somewhere near two and settled down to enjoy the bottle of very expensive whiskey I’d rescued from the Starbright’s bar. I figured all that tray-toting deserved some kind of payment.

I had sampled enough of the whiskey to know exactly how good it was when there was a knock at my door.

“Jinn. Jinn, are you there?”

Kenbi. I had expected he’d come around in the morning, not now. His voice was shaky.

He was still in his formal duds, but he was a little worse for wear. There was a long tear down one side of his shirt and a big purple bruise starting under one eye. He damn near fell into the door. I put him in a chair and handed him a glass of that nice whiskey, like a considerate host.

“What happened?”

His face crumpled like a little kid’s and he refused to look up for a bit, until he could take a long drink and get more composed. Funny thing, though; his shields never wavered.

“Jance decide he didn’t like the way you sneaked away without giving him that three thou?”

His eyes widened. “How did you know about that?”

“A pack of furry animals told me. Listen, kid, you are way out of your league. Do you know what’s going on at the Starbright?”

He nodded and gulped down the rest of the whiskey. I filled it up for him.

“Teren said he wanted me to do a picture.”

“A porno, right?”

He sniffed and nodded again. “It’s awful. But Teren said he would square it--I mean, about the club. I guess he lied.”

“No, kid. He died. Gall met up with a blaster this afternoon. Any idea how?” I was sure that Kenbi was smarter than he looked and knew way more than he was telling. I put on my tall black hat and leaned over him with my best menacing stare.

“Listen, Red. I don’t like being set up. I got my ass in a whole lot of trouble checking on your ring. I found your sugar daddy behind his fancy sofa. So stop the games and tell me what the hell’s going on.”

His eyes were wide and really shocked. “Teren’s dead? Oh no...”

“No waterworks, Kenbi. It may look good for a camera, but I don’t buy it. Where’s your boyfriend, Tan? He got anything to do with this?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen Tan for a few days. I got home tonight and Jance had a couple of goons out there waiting for me.” He touched the bruise on his face. “Guess I won’t be doing any shooting for a week or so.”

“You better be careful, kid or you’ll have a lot more than shooting schedules to worry about. Jance works for Jert Sagget, in case you didn’t know. And Sagget is about the biggest underworld baddie running around Coruscant. What’s he got on Sarac Studios?”

He bit his lip in that maddening way and took a long breath. “I think he may be one of the owners. The real owners, not the fronts. I don’t know.”

Did I mention that I’m a sucker for redheads? And scared redheads on the verge of tears always make me think I’m some kind of Jedi Knight. He barely came to my shoulder when he stood up, and those eyes were shimmering pools of aquamarine I could drown in.

About ten minutes later, I came up for air. His lips were soft and felt like rose petals opening up under mine. There was a desperation in him, the way he clung to me, devouring and breathless. I grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to catch my breath.

“What’s that for?”

His eyes had gone all smokey-grey and the hollow just under his collar tasted like salt and whiskey.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to,” he murmured against my shirtfront. His hands were doing something wonderful along the back of my neck. I decided that I needed another taste so I grabbed him and the bottle and headed us into the back room that served as home. It wasn’t much of a place, littered with laundry and shoes, but the bed was certainly softer than my desk.

He wriggled out of his clothes like a snake shedding a skin. That wriggle was irresistible. He had a lovely, taut body made for action, fine muscles sculpted into arcs and curves beneath warm flesh. There was a delightful line of dark little spots sprinkled down his neck and shoulders. I just had to kiss each one all the way to the base of his spine. He was quivering under me, making little sounds into the pillow, not quite moans, not quite grunts but something in-between that came from low in his throat.

I grabbed hold of his hips, dove down and he tasted like warm seawater and wine. His skin was silky against my face as he shuddered and I enjoyed the feast until he was so slippery wet he was opening up under my tongue. I traveled back up the curve of his spine to bury my face in his neck. He twisted his head to one side, eyes half-closed, his face flushed.

“Let me see you.”

“Yeah?” I was busy with his earlobe.

“Mmmmhmmm.” He rolled over underneath me and it felt like a warm slick of satin against my skin. The flush under his eyes made them enormous, dilated in the darkness like a cat’s. His was running those long fingers up and down my back in feather-light touches that were maddening. Caught between us, he was huge and hard. A very big boy indeed. Then his arms locked around my neck and he pulled me into another kiss. His legs wound around my hips and I was surrounded by a whorl of pulsing wet heat that pulled me in further and further until there wasn’t room for a dime-chip between us. His back arched and he jack-knifed his legs up around my shoulders. I think I was yelling against his throat, one hand tangled in that mop of hair, the other cupped underneath him on a round handful of gorgeous ass.

Time didn’t move for a long while but we sure did. We could have run the local enviro-plant on the friction alone. That massive pole of his was like iron under my belly. Once the top of my head finally exploded into a galaxy of little stars and I felt him stop bucking and gasping underneath me, it was like the still after an earthquake. He was still pulsing and quivering inside, not letting go of me easy.

I shifted to move and his arms tightened.

“Don’t. Stay there.” His voice was thick. When he opened his eyes, they were soft and almost sad.

I grinned down at him.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t say I love you first?”

He laughed and stretched, reaching for a cigarette. I slid out of him, rolled to one side and took a long swallow out of the bottle. He smoked in silence, staring out the window at the traffic while I let my hands roam around that tight body of his.

We must have curled up together. I know he was there just before dawn, because I got up for a quick trip to the ‘fresher and he was tucked into my arms like he belonged there.

But when I finally shook the whiskey fumes out of my hair, that pale light that passes for sun on Coruscant was high in the sky and he was gone. Damn. I still had his ring and I could still feel him against me.

It took me a little longer than usual to get in gear and by the time I’d made it to Tan Girat’s place, it was early evening. I figured I might find Kenbi there but I was wrong. Oh, was I wrong. I found Tan. At least I found what I thought was Tan. Whoever it was had a purple face, and equally purple tongue and was doing a damn good impression of a chandelier in the bedroom. The place had been ransacked.

The last thing I remembered was heading back to the front door. I felt something sharp against my neck. Then, the waste-paper basket did a funny little dance and the floor rose up to say ‘hiya Jinn’.

I was having one of those dreams, the kind you lose just as the alarm wakes you and you spend the rest of the day wondering what in hell you were dreaming. This one had a roller-coaster and a vacation to Hoth in it. The travel agent had a really familiar voice and I didn’t want to go to Hoth. Then the roller-coaster took a wicked left and I floated away again.

I almost woke up in a ski lodge or was it a ski slope? There were a pair of pale blue eyes looking at me, surrounded by a lot of black. A hood? Hair. A broken circle kept whirling around in my head. I thought I heard voices.

“He’ll go out again in a few seconds.”

“Let’s go. By the time they find him...”

Something about an ice sculpture was nagging at the back of my brain. It was cold, too. I got off the roller-coaster and tried to unglue my eyes. It really was cold and damned dark. I was half-frozen and it took a whole lot of effort to get my body moving again. Sometimes, I thank whatever there might be in this big galaxy for that Jedi training. It took me a little while to get the rest of the drug out of my system. By then, my toes had gone numb. I stumbled around, knocking into things until I found a light.

I was in a meat locker, along with what looked like a whole herd of prime bantha rib. It made me mad. I’m not the most shining example of humanity, but I sure think I deserve a better end than a cutlet.

Once my head had cleared, the door presented no significant problems and I found myself in the kitchen of a fourth sub-level Grantese restaurant. The cook looked as though his three purple eyes were going to pop.

I grinned at him. “Health Inspector. You’ve got a roach problem.” Then I took off.

If I had ended up in a sub-level deep freeze, I had a pretty good idea where Kenbi must have gone. Or been taken. I didn’t figure that I had too much time, if I wanted to see those pretty eyes again.

I hailed a cab and headed for the Starbright.

This time I couldn’t even begin with the bar. I cruised around the back, using everything I had to find an easy way into the place. It was like a fortress, but even fortresses need liquor deliveries. Dear old Lady Luck was on my side again and I slipped in with the booze. Something told me I wasn’t going to find anything upstairs at the casino or the fancy bordello. Something was calling me down towards the cellars. I don’t ignore those instincts. It’s one of the things that got me in deep trouble with the Jedi. They have rules and I’ve always believed that rules are there to be broken. I also know a good hunch when I feel one.

The place was a rat’s maze of corridors littered with old chairs and piles of restaurant junk. I turned a corner and found myself in a brightly lit landing that led directly to the lift upstairs. To my left was big door with a big sign: Wine Cellar.

It was locked, but that’s never stopped me in the last forty years or so. The place was huge, a network of caves with vintages from every damned planet I could name and some that I couldn’t. Casks and racks and more casks, some covered in dust, some obviously the house brands with tangles of tubes feeding up to the bars. At least there weren’t any in boxes with a pull-tab spout. I have to admit, I was impressed when I passed a rack of Tridactin Slovat whiskey marked with a date from the last century. Oh, for a hover-lift.

I could sense movement down one of the dark tunnels and made my way towards it. Right on cue, Missy Luck decided to try her hand up at the casino and left me to deal with three of Jance’s buddies by myself.

I don’t use a blaster. I think they’re obvious and traceable and really messy. The Jedi like to think they’ve got the market on lightsabres cornered, but even they can’t erase knowledge once its in your head. I made my first sabre when I was about fifteen and I’d send Lover’s Day cards to a Hutt before I’d let myself be disarmed. The lightshiv I carried like most folks carry their keys was small but very effective. Fortunately, these thugs were all blaster fire and fists. It wasn’t even a fair fight so I knocked them all senseless and made my way into the locked room they’d been guarding.

I thought I’d find Kenbi. What I found was a storehouse full of spice, Craylidian crystal, Jakfar snow-pellets and the Force knows what else; a cornucopia of illegal pharmaceuticals for every taste in quantities that were meant for more than consumption upstairs. The entire cave was full of drugs. All the puzzle pieces flew into place. The porno vids were simply blackmail material to ensure the stars would tumble for the business-type smugglers, a nice little perk for a job well done. Sarac Lake Studios and the Starbright were the laundries. Sweet, simple and very clever. I couldn’t think of a better way to get the stuff onto Coruscant and hide it and the money all in one convenient location.

I was moving fast now, speeding through the cave. I knew I’d find Kenbi down here somewhere and just hoped I’d find the dumb kid in one piece.

There was a shadow at the end of the tunnel, a tall figure in black. For just a moment, I felt the grip of another Force-user in my mind. Then laughter and the figure was gone.

I raced to the room at the end of the hall.

Kenbi was there all right, tied face-down on a table and half-dressed. He’d been beaten up pretty bad but that wasn’t what made me stare.

There was a nasty burn on his left shoulder. A broken circle. And there was a Force-dampener clamped around his neck.

Now, no one would bother using a suppressor on just anyone. Yeah, there are plenty of sensitives around but the only time you need one of those nifty little monstrosities is with someone who’s been highly trained. Like a Jedi.

I slipped the lightshiv blade under it and sliced it through. He took a long shuddering gasp of a breath and immediately the ropes around his wrists and ankles took a walk. I pocketed my shiv and just looked at him.

“Nice work. Let me guess, Kenbi. Mace and the gang should be arriving in short order.”

He sat up, groaning. “Thanks.”

“That’s all I get?”

“They won’t be here for a while. I had that thing on all afternoon.” He grimaced at the collar on the floor.

“Ok. I want a few answers, buddy. Like who are you and why me?”

He stood up and looked around for his shirt. As he pulled it on, he gasped in pain.

“Nasty burn.”

“Yeah” he retorted. “Look familiar?”

Offworld.

Xanatos.

The black figure at the end of the hall. The blue eyes in the icehouse.

Xanatos. He used to be my junior partner before he went bad and took off after damn near killing me and a few more of our squadron. Offworld was his company and the broken circle is its trademark. His too, since it’s branded on his cheek, a souvenir of our last mission together. I guess normal trade contracts weren’t keeping him in the manner to which he’d become accustomed, the bastard. I could only figure that the reason it didn’t occur to me sooner had something to do with the bruised but very beautiful body standing in front of me. I must be getting old.

“ My name’s Obi-Wan Kenobi. I’ve been undercover on this for months. Why you? Because if anyone could get Xanatos out of hiding, you could. Besides, “ he grinned. “I needed more backup than I trusted Mace to provide.”

“Tan’s dead.”

He grinned again. “No, I think the nosy landlord might be though.”

I still liked it when he smiled like that. “Your partner, right? And that holostill was taken at Middi-fair’s Photoworld. I thought I recognised that pa lm tree. So who killed Gall?”

“Sefar Blaight. Old-time set designer. He was Laen Deka’s bondmate. He didn’t like sharing.”

He pushed his hair out of his face. “You’d better get out of here. I want to keep this cover and Mace is ready to pull your license in a Mos Espa minute.”

I leaned back against the door. “Just like that! I get knocked out and wind up in an icebox and pull your sorry ass out of a mess and all you can do is---.”

His lips swallowed whatever else I had to say and I was thoroughly occupied for the next, say, eternity.

“Now get out of here and let me handle Mace. I’ll see you later.” His voice was all smoke and promise.

When I got home I treated myself to a long, hot shower and went down to the corner deli for a sandwich. It was back to C-rations until something else showed up at my door. I wasn’t really very hungry, so I put the sandwich in the cooler and was about to go into the office and turn on the holovid when I heard him.

“You gonna eat alone? I brought something to drink.”

He was in my bathrobe, leaning against the door to my bedroom with a nice big bottle of that Slovat whiskey in hand.

“How about some glasses?”

I just looked at him and stuck my hands into my jacket.

“What happened?”

“Mop-up. They nailed the studio heads, broke up the brothel and got the goods.”

I tossed him the ring. “Is it real?”

He turned it over in his free hand, then smiled up at me and slipped it into the pocket of my robe. “Yeah, it’s real, except for that firesprite stuff. Still, it’s worth a lot. Take a vacation with it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you treat yourself to a patch of synthskin for that burn.”

He treated me to that gorgeous grin. “I figured you could kiss it and make it better.” The grin died away and his eyes got serious. “Xanatos...” he started.

“Disappeared. He always does. You should’ve told me, kid.”

“Yeah, well. We all make mistakes.”

Maybe I was about to make one myself. Right now, a glass of that whiskey and a long night with him was looking like a really big mistake. But you know, some mistakes are the best things life has to offer. Who was I to say no?

FIN