He could have dismissed it as Qui-Gon biding his time to let them talk, but something in Sarah's voice made him spring to his feet. She stopped him with an upraised hand, and stretched her Force senses. Until now, she'd been trying to ignore the Force as much as possible for fear of accidents. Now she felt the gaping hole below them, where Qui-Gon's warm presence should have rung back.

"He's gone." she said.

Obi-Wan headed for the door, but she caught him by the wrist.

"He hasn't left. His scent is gone." Or he was dead, but she didn't want to think about having to tell Obi-Wan that. "With someone powerful enough to hide a person from the Force, we don't want to just barge in. Can you-?"

She held up her cuffs. If he freed her, she would escape, and he knew it. They might catch her again, but her escape was a certainty.

"You'll need back-up." she said, quietly. "We can wait for the Jedi, but by the time they get here it may be too late-"

He uncuffed her.

She went to the window. "That Buzzer still charged?"

"Yes."

"A Buzzer, a padawan, my sweet moves, and surprise." She mulled it over. "Eh. I've worked with less."

They clung to the side of the building, crawling down, and around the windows with as much creeping elegance as Count Dracula. Sarah's agility was natural, and Obi-Wan's stemmed from the force- but, oddly enough, she was the one who was more confident, to whom the ground was hardly noticed. It went seamlessly, till a young togruta girl noticed them. One call of "Mommy, look!" and they were screwed.

Sarah gave her a cheery wave.

The girl grinned toothily, waved back, then ran away giggling. Sarah smiled smugly, looked at Obi-Wan, and gave him a head swoop that said 'Fabulous!'

He shook his head.

She clambered down to one side of the bottom window, and Obi-Wan climbed down the other. She peeked in, nose over the sill.

The room was covered in doilies, and old pictures. There was an oven in the corner, and a peach table where Sarah's confiscated tool belt lay.
In sharp contrast to this atmosphere, two greasy humanoids stood in the middle of it, arguing. One was a male human, with a brown tuft of hair, and skin turned wrinkly by the sun and wind. The other was a female of a race Sarah had never seen before. She was bald, navy colored, with silky skin, and an oval of black skin around each sea-blue eye. They both had the air of people who worked under the hood of an engine, and wore identical charcoal backpacks.

"Oh, well done, Drayche!" said the man.

"Thank you." said Drayche, indifferent to his sarcasm.

"I don't suppose you had any plans as to what to do with him afterwards?" asked the man.

There he was. Qui-Gon, limp on the floor. There was a lump on his forehead, a small trickle of blood running from it. Drayche was looking over his lightsaber. Sarah felt Obi-Wan tense beside her, as though he wanted to rip it out of her hands.

"We leave him." said Drayche. "He got no reason to connect us to the explosion."

Sarah threw Obi-Wan a look. He shrugged, which she took to mean that he knew of no such incident. So it was still to come.

He prodded her with his foot. Lets dispatch them already.

She raised a hand, and gestured to her chin. Let them talk.

"Of all the houses in this neighborhood, you pick one with a Jedi in it." the man muttered.

"Would you rather Filly's boy had spotted us?" she said.

He threw up his hands dramatically. "Well, pardon me."

Drayche smiled. "Eat something, Lam. We've got hours before it's time to detonate."

And they were directly in control of this would-be explosion. Oh, do keep talking, dodgy handymen!

"Robbing an old couple." said Lam, opening the cupboard. "Now I know I've made it."

"For goodness's sakes, don't whine to me about the dignity of your career. You're taking out the Jedi this evening. How's that for making it?"

Yes. Thank you, dodgy handymen, that's all we needed to hear.

She sensed confusion from Obi-Wan. How had they been able to lace the Temple with explosives without being sensed? You'd think Yoda would be able to break through this little Force masking trick of theirs.

Well, the interrogaters could figure that one out. Their job was simple. Knock them out, and wait for the Jedi to arrive.

Reaching under the window sill, she touched Obi-Wan's hand. She reluctantly entered the shallowest level of his mind, and sent a question mark. With equal reservation, he let her in.

Kay, as powerful as they might be, I doubt they're prepared for me. she thought to him. So how about you climb back up, walk downstairs, and tearfully beg for your Master's life? Then I'll take them out from behind.

Tearfully? he replied.

Well, do your best.

He sighed, silently, and started climbing. She listened to the handymen flirt, and talk about their shares(so they were hired, not Sith) until they heard footsteps on the stairs. They turned, Lam charging his blaster, Drayche hefting Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

"Don't shoot!" Obi-Wan called, in a scared voice.

"Get down here!" Lam barked. "Hands up!"

Obi-Wan entered. But the moment he did, his acting face vanished, replaced by utter confusion, and disorientation. Drayche smiled.

They were attacking his mind! Time to cut this short.

Sarah grabbed the top of the window and swung in, feet first.

"Do you mean like this?" she asked.

They faced her, and she raised her hands.

Nothing happened. The handymen didn't go flying back into the wall, and suddenly the only pair of eyes Sarah had were her own. It was no mask, or trick. In this room, the Force simply didn't exist.

"...Ah." she said.

Obi-Wan jumped from behind, Buzzer at the ready. Without looking, Drayche pointed Qui-Gon's lightsaber backwards, and turned it on. Obi-Wan fell, scrambling back to avoid the extending blade. He was pretty clumsy without the Force. Drayche kept the humming green blade under his chin, and Lam leveled his blaster at Sarah.

"They didn't come down at once." said Drayche. "They must have been listening."

"My Master came down to get the tool belt." said Obi-Wan. "We didn't notice how long he was taking until now!"

"Convincing." said Drayche, dryly.

"Yeah, kid, I came in through the window." said Sarah. "Think your lies through next time. Yes, we heard you, but that's no reason to pummel both of us. You can blow up what you like, as far as I care. I've got no love for the Jedi."

"Which is why you tried to help the padawan," said Lam, "with the Force?"

"Yeah, Sarah," said Obi-Wan. "think your lies through next time."

"Cheeky." she said.

"What do we do?" Lam asked, quietly.

"What do you think?" said Drayche, and raised the lightsaber.

"Wait!" said Sarah.

Drayche hesitated, instinctively. Sarah's eyes flew over the room to find a way to save Obi-Wan. He was too young to die, especially without a nickname!

Her eyes zoomed in on the blue fur in Lam's pocket, attached to a gold chain. A rabbit's foot?

"If you kill us, we'll still warn the Jedi." said Sarah. "In fact, I think we'll lead them right to you. Or haven't you done your research?"

Lam's jaw clenched.

"Drayche." he said.

"Lam." she said.

"Drayche."

"Lam."

"It's fact." said Lam. "They've been caught on camera!"

"Yes, just like the Jelnara Lake Monster."

"Even scientists talk about them! Look, we leave them under the Temple with the ysalamiri, and they can blow up with the rest of their friends. Then it won't matter if they turn ghost or not."

Hold on, thought Sarah. This wasn't what I was thinking at all.

"Do you know exactly how much I don't want to drag three Jedi around the city?" said Drayche.

"We can leave the big one. He hasn't heard anything."

"Oh, well, that makes it so much better."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," said Sarah. "Lets not be hasty. What if-"

Lam shot her in the face.