Qui-Gon began to feel conspicuous, so he moved down the alley to another window. After a few minutes he moved to the back, where he could see the interior through a small, grimy window. He kept up his post there, pretending to loiter until people began to come home from work and windows lit up across the alley. Qui-Gon headed back to the front and crossed the street. He stationed himself at a juice bar with a good angle on the front of the cafc. Dusk fell. His patience wore thin. Was the conversation a bluff? Had Oleg merely been trying to get Qui-Gon to meet his price?
Qui-Gon was beginning to consider approaching Oleg again when he saw him head out of the cafc, glancing nervously over his shoulder. Qui-Gon joined the stream of people on the walkway and followed him.
At first, it was easy to keep Oleg in sight. The people on the streets were good cover. But as Oleg crossed over into the Worker Sector, the crowd grew larger. Oleg was a slight young man, and he soon got lost in the crowd. It was difficult to keep him in sight without running into him.
Gradually, Qui-Gon became aware that he was not the only one tailing Oleg. He did not turn his head or alter his stride in any way, but he threw his attention around him like a net. Someone was tailing Oleg from across the street.
It was Balog. He saw him reflected in the shiny surface of an approaching landspeeder. He recognized the stocky frame, the way the muscular legs seemed to power the body forward like a machine, not a man.
Qui-Gon did not know if Balog had seen him. Perhaps his focus was on Oleg. If he was lucky, that would be the case. But he could not rely on luck. His heart began to pound, and he had to discipline himself to keep his focus. He wanted to turn and rush at Balog in a full-scale attack. He wanted to make him pay for every breath Tahl had struggled to take, every second her life systems slowly failed. He would make each moment of Balog's suffering an eternity….
Where did that thought come from? The ferocity of it shocked him. It had risen from the depths of him. It sounded like vengeance. He did not know such an emotion could exist inside him. The knowledge made him uneasy.
I can control it. It will not take me over. I can capture Balog and not let my anger overtake me.
He said the words to himself, just the way he would have said them to Obi-Wan. He was a Jedi. His training would keep him on the right path. It had to.
His hands trembled, and he clasped them together for a moment. Help me, Tahl, he said fervently. He had never said such a thing to her when she was alive, though now he realized how many times he had gone to her for help. She had known that it was hard for him to ask for it. It was the one thing she had never teased him about. Instead, she had simply given him whatever he needed: information, assurance, compassion.
To his left, Balog speeded up. Qui-Gon melted back. Now he must keep both Balog and Oleg in sight.
Oleg entered a warehouse. Balog hurried down an alley to the side of the building. There was no question in Qui-Gon's mind which one to pursue.
He headed down the alley after Balog.
When he got to the back, he found himself in a small fenced area. It was empty. All the windows looking out from the warehouse were dark. Qui- Gon tried the door. It was locked.
It was a flicker in the corner of his eye that alerted him, nothing more. But it was enough. He was already turning and had his lightsaber activated when the first probe droid attacked. Blaster fire pinged by his ear. He felt the scorch near his shoulder. He reached up to bring it down with a swipe, but it veered off.
Blaster fire to his left, then to his right. Behind him, Qui-Gon counted seven droids, now in attack mode. Their sensors glowed red as they pinpointed his location. Blaster fire rained around him like a cage. It was almost impossible to dodge it.
Qui-Gon ran at the wire fence. He shifted his body horizontally, calling on the Force to help him scale it without using his hands. His balance was perfect as he hit the top. He gave a backward leap and took two probe droids out with one single downward stroke.
Before he hit the ground, he twisted in midair to land a few centimeters away, confusing the probe droid that fired at the spot where he should have landed. He ran at the warehouse wall now, straight up, and then flipped backward, swiping a glancing blow at the third droid. It buzzed, blaster fire erupting in a series of flashes. Then it began to smoke, spiraling down until it crashed.
Qui-Gon fought in a frenzy, mindful that Balog was inside that warehouse. The probe droids were slowing him down, and frustration boiled inside him at their insistent buzzing.
He attacked with a new ferocity. He launched himself off the fence, kicking out with one leg to send one droid flying while thrusting a blow straight into the heart of another. It gave an anguished squawk and fell to the ground at top speed, crashing and bursting into flames.
Qui-Gon hit the ground, lightsaber held high, ready for the next challenge. But to his surprise, the remaining two probe droids suddenly wheeled away and flew off into the darkness.
He didn't hesitate a moment. He cut a hole in the locked door with his lightsaber and charged through. He ran down the corridor, searching room after room. The rooms were filled with tools, equipment, and durasteel bins. He found nothing until he ran into a small room near the turbolift.
There was Oleg, lying on the floor, arms outstretched, mouth open. He had a surprised expression on his face. But he would never feel surprised again.
Chapter 7
Mace had not shown any emotion when Obi-Wan gave him the news of Qui- Gon's disappearance. He had simply nodded. 'We will hear from him, I'm sure,' he had said.
But when they discovered that Qui-Gon had switched off his comlink, Mace's disapproval was obvious.
'We must proceed without Qui-Gon,' he said. 'I think we should split up. I'll go to the United Legislature and gather information. Obi-Wan, can you find this medic, Yanci? We need another copy of that list.'
'I think so,' Obi-Wan said. 'She said she was staying with the Workers, and I can trace her through lrini and Lenz.'
