The Deadly Hunter

5

Armed with a good description of Fligh, the informant, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan headed to the Senate. “Just ask around,” Didi had told them. “Everyone knows Fligh.”

They walked through the main entrance of the Senate rotunda. The press of beings inside worked against the calm surroundings to create a sense of controlled chaos. Obi-Wan was jostled and bumped by quick-moving Senatorial aides and consorts of various species. Hover-cams buzzed overhead, heading to the vast interior amphitheater to record the proceedings. Guards dressed in royal blue robes strode by purposefully.

Small cafés were tucked into overhangs along the exterior wall, some more populated than others. Qui-Gon stopped to inquire at several of them, and then moved on.

“Didi is right,” he told Obi-Wan. “Everyone knows Fligh. They just don’t know where he is.”

At last they found him in one of the small pocket cafes. This one was deserted. It was past time for midday meal, and the Senate was in session.

Fligh sat at a small table, nursing a glass of muja juice. He was a spindly creature with a long face, prominent ears, and one green prosthetic eye.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan sat at the table. “Didi sent us,” Qui-Gon said.

Fligh looked surprised. Then he licked his lips. “Didn’t know Jedi trafficked in information. Buy, sell, or trade?”

“We are not here to make a deal,” Qui-Gon said. “We need you to tell us how you found out about the two pieces of information you just sold to Didi.”

Fligh wrapped his long, thin fingers around his glass and looked at them slyly. “Why should I tell you? What’s in it for me, I ask?”

“You would be helping Didi,” Qui-Gon said. “He is in trouble. And if you chose not to help him, I would not be pleased.” Qui-Gon gave Fligh a level stare.

Fligh choked on his muja juice, then broke out into nervous laughter. “You are a friend of Didi! I am a friend of Didi! We are all friends! There you go! Of course I want you to be pleased. I’ll tell you everything you wish to know. May I say that I am both helpful and discreet? And generous. May I offer you two some muja juice? Unfortunately at the moment I am out of credits, but I would be happy to order them for you.”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “Just tell us what we want to know, Fligh. How did you find out about the Tech Raiders?”

Fligh shrugged. “Easy. One hears things if one pays attention. And there you go.”

“You just heard it in the air?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I can see you’re a stickler for details,” Fligh said, leaning back and chuckling at Qui-Gon. “Okay, okay. I heard it from their representative on Coruscant. Helb is the broker for stolen tech equipment. One meets him in the Splendor Tavern, he makes the deal. He used to make deals at Didi’s, but the lovely Astri took care of that. Too bad—Didi always gave me juice for free.” Fligh sighed at the lost opportunity.

“What about your information about Senator S’orn?” Qui-Gon asked.

“One has to protect one’s sources, you know,” Fligh stalled.

Qui-Gon gave him a stern look. It was all he had to do. The cowardly Fligh immediately backtracked.

“Okay, okay, I can see you’ll make me talk. I got hold of a confidential memo written by S’orn herself announcing her resignation. It isn’t scheduled to be released until next week. Naturally one could not let such a find go to waste.”

“And how did you get this memo?” Qui-Gon asked.

“How does one learn things? Things happen. A durasheet falls into the trash bin, someone plucks it out, passes it along…” Fligh shrugged. “It’s the way one has to work. A little here, a little there. A favor here, a trade there, and there you go.” He turned to Obi-Wan. “Do you like my eye?”

The abrupt question took Obi-Wan by surprise. “Which one?” he asked politely.

“The green one, of course!” Fligh said, pointing to it. “I lost my own in a little dustup with some Hutts. Isn’t it a beauty?”

“It’s very attractive,” Obi-Wan said.

“Very nice,” Qui-Gon offered, when Fligh turned to him.

“You see? There you go—a trade. A little information goes here, a little goes there, and I get an eye! How else does one survive on Coruscant?”

“One could get a job,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “One could, if one were a different being,” Fligh agreed. “However, one is not.” He shrugged again. “I do the best I can. On my own since I was knee-high, I learned how to get by. Didi is my friend. He has done much for me, and Astri is in my heart as well. I’m sorry Didi is in trouble. I will try to help, Jedi. This I promise.”

“I think it better if you stay out of it,” Qui-Gon said in a kindly tone, for Fligh’s tone was sincere. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”

“Then call on me when you need me. I will do my best, which I am sure you can guess is not much.” Fligh cackled. “But there you go.”

Qui-Gon stood. “We might have to return and ask you more questions.”

“I am always here,” Fligh said. He waved at the empty café and his jar of muja juice. “Where else can one find such excitement?”

Since they were already in the Senate building, Qui-Gon decided that their next stop should be Senator Uta S’orn’s office.

The outer room was empty, so Qui-Gon knocked on an inner door.

“Telissa?” The door was flung open. A Belascan female stood, one hand on her hip, wearing the trademark Belascan headdress of wrapped jeweled cloth, as well as an irritable expression. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were my assistant.” Her glittering eyes swept them, and her expression changed. “Oh. Jedi. Excuse my rudeness.”

“May we speak with you for a moment?” Qui-Gon asked.

“I am very busy… all right. Enter.” Senator S’orn swiveled and walked back into her private office. She waved them to two chairs set in front of her desk.

Qui-Gon seated himself and began with preliminaries. “You are resigning next week, Senator S’orn.”

She looked startled. “But how do you know this?”

“The information is out there,” Qui-Gon said. “It is for sale. I do not know if anyone has bought it yet, but no doubt someone will. We cannot prevent that.”

Senator S’orn dropped her head in her hands. “My data pad. It was stolen at the Senate commissary. My resignation announcement was on it.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon. Obviously, Fligh had lied about how he’d received the information.

She raised her head. “Disaster. I’m sponsoring legislation in two days. If this gets out beforehand, I’ll have no support.”

“Did you see anyone nearby who could have stolen it?” Qui-Gon asked.

She shook her head. “Just the usual Senate crowd.” She laced her fingers together and bowed her head for a moment in thought. Then she raised her head and put both hands flat on the desk. “Decision. I must announce my resignation immediately. Then I can rally supporters to the legislation by saying they must help me with my legacy. I’ll play on their sympathies.” She drummed her fingers on the desk as she calculated her strategy. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere as she said absently, “Thank you for telling me.”

Qui-Gon stood. “Thank you for your time.”

She did not say good-bye or acknowledge them again. Her mind was already working to fix her problem. Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon out the door.

“Why didn’t you ask her about Didi?” he asked Qui-Gon.

“Because it wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere. If she put a death mark on Didi’s head, she would hardly admit it,” Qui-Gon said. “And I can’t see how she could trace the theft of the data pad to Didi. Do you?”

“Only if she’s lying,” Obi-Wan said after a moment. “If she’d seen Fligh steal it, it would be easy to trace him to Didi. But why go after Didi, and not Fligh?”

Obi-Wan thought this over some more. He felt at a disadvantage. Qui-Gon seemed to have an insight into the hearts and minds of beings that he did not.

“Still, Senator S’orn’s distress seemed sincere to me,” he said slowly. “She was barely polite and not terribly nice, but not evil. Just busy.”

“A typical Senator,” Qui-Gon said with a half smile.

“She seemed surprised that the information was out,” Obi-Wan said.

“Yes, she did,” Qui-Gon mused. “Unless she is a very good actress. But she did seem sincerely upset.”

“Why did Fligh tell us that an assistant got her announcement out of the trash?” Obi-Wan asked. “It’s obviously not true.”

“He didn’t actually say that, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said. “He just indicated that as one of many ways he could have gotten the information. No, Fligh stole the data pad. He would not want to admit that to us, however.”

“This seems like a dead end to me,” Obi-Wan said in conclusion. “Senator S’orn certainly doesn’t look like a murderer.”

Qui-Gon’s blue eyes were keen. “Tell me, Padawan. What does a murderer look like?”