Chapter Seven
A hand swept up and over his chin out of a long-established habit, though there wasn't much there to rub or pull on. Obi-Wan had chosen to scrape his face clear of the graying beard which he thought would distinguish him amongst Coruscant civilians, and so he was surprised when the young warrior before him recognized his features.
She obviously recognized his surprise as well.
"It's the eyes." She told him nonchalantly. "Thanks Dex for bringing him down. We'll take good care of him."
The large being hesitated before clasping his huge hand over Obi-Wan's shoulder. "He's a good friend. I expect no less."
"No harm will come to him I assure you." The woman stated firmly with a smile just before Obi-Wan's shoulder was clapped twice and Dexter lumbered away.
"And Dex?" She called out before he disappeared from sight. "Next time, don't overcook the bantha. That last strip was like chewing on my boot."
"Ungrateful..." Obi-Wan heard the rumbling voice as the big body vanished into the darkness, turning his attention back toward his hostess.
"Morah Vrax, at your service. You've shown up at a most opportune moment, General Kenobi."
"Obi-Wan." The Jedi insisted, most desirous to put the memories of the Clone Wars behind him. "And how did you...?"
"Know who you were? I told you. The eyes are a dead give-away. Perhaps you should've invested in some lenses."
The red-headed female led Obi-Wan across the single-railed track before stepping up onto a platform on the other side. "The scowl was also a hint." She smiled broadly as she turned sideways to glance at him.
She seemed familiar in a way, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Where had he seen her before? She appeared to be an operative of some sort, or perhaps a security official.
"I can hear those wheels turning. Let me put your mind at rest. I'm the daughter of Senator Vrax of Mandalore. My father was assassinated by the Emperor's thugs when he took a stand against their attempts to legalize slavery back home. The Emperor declared it would put an end to the poverty that was ravishing our planet, but my father was against it. He formed an alliance with several other senators and was murdered. That was five years ago. I've been rallying support ever since."
"A rebellion?"
"Not hardly. Just a small group of survivors who don't like the way the new empire is being run."
"Survivors?" Obi-Wan was listening intently, but he was also watching where Morah was taking him. The Force was clouded, even more so now that he was so close to the source of the darkness that swallowed the light, but he still could not help be a bit suspicious about his guide. Perhaps he had been in the desert too long.
"Those who have ever dared take a stand against the Emperor and his henchman, failed to turn over those with a bounty on their heads, to 'cleanse the Galaxy,' so we were told. We gathered below to offer them sanctuary, since there's no place for them to go. Their identifications have been wiped, their bank accounts emptied. They have no credits and no access to any. Their businesses have been confiscated and their families either put to death or put into prison. They hide here, without anyone knowing of their existence, past or present. Basically, they have been erased from society. There are those above who help us, like Dex, who provide nourishment, medicine and weapons. Thank the stars, we haven't had any need for them yet."
"You seem to be well prepared." Obi-Wan noted, his eyes glancing down to the variety of weapons Morah wore on her body.
"Just a security precaution." She answered with a smile, turning the corner at the end of the causeway and pushing a coded sequence into a panel, which Obi-Wan memorized.
"And the others?"
"Most of the others are here for security, but there are a few who are young and anxious to go out and get back some of what the Emperor has taken from us. That's where you come in."
"Me? I'm sorry, but I'm here on business. I have no intention of joining up with a rebellion. There's a young woman I need to find. She's in serious danger."
"Aren't we all?"
The door before them swished open to reveal a mass of people crowded into a room filled with metal tables and chairs. Dim lighting exposed groups who had been playing cards, drinking, or just talking, but upon his entrance, all eyes turned upon him. Quickly, Obi-Wan calculated approximately 100 beings in the room, from different species and different walks of life. He recognized Senator Galfar from Zotha and smiled at him, an aid to the previous chancellor who had often visited the Temple, as well as a past CEO of Galactic City Financial. The others ranged from elderly to younglings, but all appeared pleased, if not surprised to see him.
Obi-Wan followed Morah across the room, accepting gracious pats on his back, handshakes, and returning smiles, but guilt began to gnaw at him that he was going to disappoint them all with his refusal to help them. He was here to find Padmé.
Slowly, his smile faded and the scowl returned, until a lean, salmon-colored figure emerged from the corner, her webbed fingers reaching out for him.
"Obi-Wan?"
"Bant!"
He crushed his childhood friend in a powerful embrace, knocking his hat to the floor before shoving her backward to look at her.
"What happened? I thought you were in the Temple!"
"I was in the healer's wing when Anak...Vader came. The fires the clones set caused an explosion in the south hall. I was trapped and...blinded. There were so many dead, Obi. They thought I was too. I had gone into hibernation, until I heard people talking. There was a group of citizens looking for survivors. I was the only one they found."
Obi-Wan gazed through the dim lighting at his friend's large almond-shaped eyes to see clouded, unresponsive pupils, and part of his previous joy faded. "I'm so sorry."
"There wasn't anything you could've done. He fooled us all, Obi-Wan. I'm just glad you're alive. I had heard the worst. Come sit down and have a bite to eat."
Morah Vrax watched the reunion of the two Jedi with an expression of happiness, as did the others who observed it as well. She moved back amongst her comrades and out into the open station, positioning herself in the circle of light upon the gray duracrete floor. Reaching down to her belt, she removed a small communicator and activated it with a blip.
"Fett here."
"This is Vrax. What's the current bounty on General Kenobi?"
"500,000. You know where he is?"
"Let's talk first. I want fifty percent."
"Thirty. Just because we're both Mandalorian, don't expect any favors." The gruff voice on the other end of the communication argued.
"Forty or you can forget it."
"Deal."
"I'll contact you again with the details. Vrax out."
Morah pocketed her comm, glancing up into the darkening late afternoon sky visible through the sphere of dirty glass above. There was little remorse to her actions. 200,000 would be a great help to their efforts. With it, The Erased could purchase their own supplies, weapons, maybe even a starship or two. They would no longer have to rely upon outside help. Finally, they could get out of this stinking sewer and try to make a difference.
It may cost the life of one of the last and best Jedi, but what good could one Jedi do? Besides, the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
