Obi-Wan spent the next hour and a half scouring the streets of Mos Espa. He kept getting a brief sense of someone Force-sensitive, but it would disappear as sudden as it had come. He sighed and headed towards the slave quarters. It was risky, what he was about to do, but it seemed like one of the best ways to find out more about the town.
He stepped up to the first door and knocked a few times. No answer. He sighed and went to the next door. A large but sickly man opened the door. He leaned up against the door and glared at Obi-Wan.
"What'dya want? I not fo' sale."
"I'm not interested in buying a slave, sir. I'm looking for a girl, well...a woman. A young woman. Brown hair, green eyes, probably just a little shorter than myself."
The slave shook his head. "Ain't seen no girls like that round here."
Obi-Wan bowed his head, having gotten a good mental probe of the room. No Force-sensitives or Force-trained individuals. He continued to do this, door to door. Most people hadn't seen anyone like her, a few claimed to have seen a young woman sneaking around. Finally, when it was near dark, he knocked on another door. It was opened by a woman in her late thirties, maybe older, much older. Her black hair was pulled back in severe bun, and her brown eyes studied the young man intensely.
He bowed his head to her, just like everyone else, and repeated the same question. The woman stared at him blankly for a moment. "No." she said. Then she looked at him curiously. "Who are you?"
"I'm no one of importance."
"That's not what I asked. Who are you?"
"Mickael Ducot." he said, using his alias he had been given.
"Hmm. Where are you from?"
"Mostly the Core. Why?"
"Just curious. Your accent seems familiar."
"Have you met many people from the core, ma'am?"
"No, only a few." The woman looked around for a moment. "And what do you do, Mickael?"
He paused for a moment, unable to think of an answer. "Kind of a law enforcer."
"And what do you want with the girl?"
"She's in danger, and I was told to retrieve her."
The woman nodded. "I see. Well, if I see anyone who fits that description, I'll tell you. Where are you staying?"
"A small motel near the Kerell shipyard. Kinda beat down."
She nodded again. "Alright. Now, I have work to do."
He bowed his head. "Thank you for your help." He took one last glance down the rest of the slave quarters, then decided to go back to hotel. He didn't feel comfortable being out at night, even if he was a Jedi. He just couldn't risk blowing his cover. He adjusted his poncho, then started down the street.
The slave woman watched him go for a moment before closing the door. She made sure it was locked, then turned to a doorway.
"Kyra! Kyra, there was a man here looking for you!"
He stepped up to the first door and knocked a few times. No answer. He sighed and went to the next door. A large but sickly man opened the door. He leaned up against the door and glared at Obi-Wan.
"What'dya want? I not fo' sale."
"I'm not interested in buying a slave, sir. I'm looking for a girl, well...a woman. A young woman. Brown hair, green eyes, probably just a little shorter than myself."
The slave shook his head. "Ain't seen no girls like that round here."
Obi-Wan bowed his head, having gotten a good mental probe of the room. No Force-sensitives or Force-trained individuals. He continued to do this, door to door. Most people hadn't seen anyone like her, a few claimed to have seen a young woman sneaking around. Finally, when it was near dark, he knocked on another door. It was opened by a woman in her late thirties, maybe older, much older. Her black hair was pulled back in severe bun, and her brown eyes studied the young man intensely.
He bowed his head to her, just like everyone else, and repeated the same question. The woman stared at him blankly for a moment. "No." she said. Then she looked at him curiously. "Who are you?"
"I'm no one of importance."
"That's not what I asked. Who are you?"
"Mickael Ducot." he said, using his alias he had been given.
"Hmm. Where are you from?"
"Mostly the Core. Why?"
"Just curious. Your accent seems familiar."
"Have you met many people from the core, ma'am?"
"No, only a few." The woman looked around for a moment. "And what do you do, Mickael?"
He paused for a moment, unable to think of an answer. "Kind of a law enforcer."
"And what do you want with the girl?"
"She's in danger, and I was told to retrieve her."
The woman nodded. "I see. Well, if I see anyone who fits that description, I'll tell you. Where are you staying?"
"A small motel near the Kerell shipyard. Kinda beat down."
She nodded again. "Alright. Now, I have work to do."
He bowed his head. "Thank you for your help." He took one last glance down the rest of the slave quarters, then decided to go back to hotel. He didn't feel comfortable being out at night, even if he was a Jedi. He just couldn't risk blowing his cover. He adjusted his poncho, then started down the street.
The slave woman watched him go for a moment before closing the door. She made sure it was locked, then turned to a doorway.
"Kyra! Kyra, there was a man here looking for you!"