Chapter 3
"Tak has three brothers. The youngest, Uncle Veni, is the one who got into some shady activity some years ago. I believe it did involve smuggled blasters, among other things. We never did a lot socially with him, anyway. He always criticized the way mama made kirilliki, I especially remember that. I could never understand. It's one of her specialties, she really has a way with it. Maybe I can sweet-talk her into making it for you while we're there. Now, Veni has four second cousins, the oldest of which was really quite heavily into some dealing, but I'd heard he quit about ten years ago. He might still know who's buying, selling, that kind of thing. He's really a nice guy. He's into advanced grafting techniques, and even has a couple of patents. Get this, the Agriculture department at the University in Tyannis, Nyme's capital, contacts him when they have questions. Anyway, this second cousin had a brother who had a nephew, who with two friends of his joined the Nyme' Military Guard and were good enough to be chosen by the sharpshooters corps..."
Qui-Gon leaned back against the cushions of the conform couch in Valia's cabin and sighed. For someone who'd claimed she had no knowledge of anything that could help them, she'd turned into a veritable fountain this morning. Unfortunately, sifting through all this for anything useful was going to be the real trick. In a minute he would stop her yet again and ask another question that hopefully would lead him in the right direction. But which direction was the right one? The real questioning would have to begin once they got to Nyme' and started looking for possible safe havens for their man.
He wondered again why he and Obi-Wan had been asked to track down this man. Yoda himself had brought this to their attention. Surely other organizations were qualified, and possibly better prepared. Why send Jedi?
Before he could mull that over any further, the signal at Valia's cabin door chimed. She broke off her happy monologue long enough to call out an invitation to enter the cabin.
Obi-Wan quickly slipped into the doorway and shut the door. He'd shot a hasty glance down the corridor from which he'd come. He entered the main sitting area with a slightly harried look on his face. Valia and Qui-Gon regarded him from the couch expectantly. He vaguely resembled a hunted animal.
The Jedi apprentice took in the two of them in return. Sated. Content. Comfortable. They looked like a couple of Triannii cubs who'd sneaked into a cream processing plant. The cabin's condition bespoke a long, very comfortable morning together. The table in front of them held the remains of a breakfast sent from the kitchens. An old-fashioned inlaid wooden game board covered the top of another small table, with carved stone game pieces scattered on it. A number of them lay on the floor where they had fallen or been knocked down, presumably in some sort of victory tussle, along with a several large throw pillows and a half-spilled bowl of various fruits. He was not even going to allow his eyes to pan in the direction of the sleeping area and its unmade bed. There was an understated revelry going on here, and they were without apology taking advantage of all this rare time together they had.
While they weren't at all tangled on the couch or even that cozied together, they still somehow conveyed a sense of deep, glowing intimacy. Their only point of physical contact was Valia's bare foot, the toes of which lightly rested on top of one of Qui-Gon's. Who was also barefoot. Who, like Valia, was wearing his hair in a loose, temporary tail. They both looked softly rumpled as though getting dressed had been a sudden afterthought. There was the distinct impression that both of them had not left the cabin since sometime yesterday, and had not bothered with mundane details like summoning a robo-valet. With an effort of will, Obi-Wan refused to let his master's casual condition and especially Lia's rattle him. In the last two years, he could count the times he'd ever seen any such hint of their closeness on the fingers of one hand. They kept their love to themselves. So it was the looks he'd seen exchanged between them, or the slightest of physical contacts that conveyed all the more potency of what he was sure lay between the two of them. It might only be two fingers touching, or merely the fingertips...the briefest, most publicly acceptable gestures; but these seemed to hold more passion than the most flagrant embrace.
In most Core societies, a woman's bare foot was something that was only seen in the privacy of her own home. So the sight of it was thought of as provocative, risqué, a prelude to more, and associated with the bedroom. As a Jedi, he had been brought up since infancy to be completely comfortable with his body and the functions of every part of it. He'd been taught to respect the variety in forms and the natural beauty of all types of bodies, male or female. He'd seen his master in all states of dress and undress, and thought nothing of it. But this situation gave him pause and an inward smile at how much surrounding culture had still seeped into his beliefs.
Obi-Wan turned his mind from this to their reason for being here. It was so much harder than usual it seemed. The entire ship appeared to be packed with young beings with minds set on one thing. Cheap, casual sex. Was it just him, was he just being a prude, or did it seem like it was on everyone's agenda except his? Everywhere he ventured on the liner, there were couples of various species in various stages of...well, coupling. That combined with the three very persistent admirers he'd been trying to shake since boarding had made for an uncomfortable journey so far. He'd already spent hours in the solitude of his cabin meditating and seeking strength in mind over body, over distracting surroundings. Despite the fact that it looked like Qui-Gon and Lia had started on preparations for this mission, there was more than enough evidence that this cabin was no haven for him from the general atmosphere on the rest of the ship.
Valia regarded the frowning Obi-Wan as he stood there looking perturbed by something. She wanted to help him with whatever it was, but wasn't sure what that might be. The young Jedi apprentice usually seemed so self-possessed and able to deal with whatever he faced, she found herself forgetting he was a young man trying to find his way like anyone else his age. She noticed his glance under the table. So the footsie thing was evidently bothering him. Valia sighed inwardly and moved her foot from Qui-Gon's and shifted casually as though finding a more comfortable position on the couch. She held a deep affection for Obi-Wan and wouldn't be insensitive to him.
She looked at Qui-Gon and searched his face for a clue as to what to do. He, too, had noticed his student hadn't bothered to conceal where his eyes had been. And he was aware of the unwanted attention he was getting aboard the ship. He sensed this was the real reason behind his tight attitude. Since he had been seeing Valia, Qui-Gon had been careful to never scandalize his Padawan, and insofar as he could at this point, set a good example for him. He treated Valia with utmost respect and courtesy. That is, when he wasn't coming up with new and improved ways to put color in her cheeks. Not wanting to find himself in a hypocritical situation, he decided to defer the handling of the situation to her, at least for now. He would take Obi-Wan aside later for a fatherly, encouraging talk and spend the day with him. He gave her a slight nod, which told her go ahead, you talk to him.
Valia shot a 'who, me?' look at Qui-Gon, but returned her attention to his student. "What's wrong, Obi-Wan? You look a little like you got into a bad batch of gooriken eggs for breakfast this morning."
He waved a hand as if to dismiss his own mood and smiled. "Oh, I just seem to have picked up some overly affectionate parasites in the last day or so."
"Parasites, huh? They looked like pretty cute ones to me."
"Cute. Young. Very persistent and hard of hearing."
"Oooh, the worst kind. This sounds very serious."
"And if that wasn't bad enough," Obi-Wan said, pulling up a floater cushion across the table from her and taking a seat, "it seems this entire ship is nothing more than a hormonal pleasure cruise. I think we ought to check if the crew is pumping something through the ventilation system."
Valia grinned at him. Qui-Gon drew his brows together in a gravely serious frown and closely studied something on the data pad's screen in front of him. "Yes," he agreed. "I have noticed the same thing. There seems to be an unusual amount of sexual activity in dark corners and certain closets aboard this ship." Without a flicker of betraying movement above the table, he deftly moved his leg aside to avoid the swift kick Valia aimed at him.
"Well, since this was the only transport to Nyme' available on such short notice," she slid a very pointed look Qui-Gon's way and emphasized the word 'short', "We seem to be stuck with our travelling companions. A lot of Coruscant University students on between-term break, it looks like. Don't worry, I'm sure most of them will be disembarking on Yadoroo or Niree, the hot spots these days for young people on the make, or out to party. So I'm told."
Obi-Wan looked as though it was going to take a considerable amount of his Jedi patience to wait even that long.
"Can't you just hypnotically suggest to them to leave you alone? Just wave your hand and make them disappear?"
"Well, that skill should really be reserved for when someone is being hurt, or when it's critical to move a mission forward."
"You know what the problem is, Obi-Wan," Valia leaned forward. "I think you might be going about this the wrong way," she advised.
"How so?"
"You're being yourself. You're being much too proper, quiet, elusive, evasive, and therefore all the more tantalizing and desirable."
His brows drew together. What else was he supposed to do but stoically deal with this?
"What you should do is let these women corner you, and then proceed to tell them all about yourself. In complete and long-winded detail."
Obi-Wan looked skeptical. "A Jedi doesn't dwell on self."
"Work with me here a little, Obi-Wan. I'm going somewhere with this. Tell them all about the places you've been, the things you've done, the beasts you've slain, the wrongs you've righted, the corruption you've exposed. But not like the way you tell me, where you give credit to everyone else and minimize your own part in it. All fair and modest stories. You need to make this the most egotistical, self-absorbed, monomaniacal tale anyone has ever heard. And spice it up a little! Have some fun with it."
Qui-Gon gave her only a mildly censorious glance. After all, if she was entrusted with the care of babies and toddlers, how much un-Jedi nonsense could she fill a twenty-year old apprentice's head with?
"Now Lia, you know boasting and bragging is inappropriate behavior for a Jedi, not to mention lying. I can't really do that," said Obi-Wan, smiling and preparing himself to do something that would humor her. He'd grown deeply fond of her, and had found that sometimes the best way to think of her was as a slightly wicked, worldly older sister.
"Yes, of course, I know that, and you know that. Which, by the way, is one of the reasons you're such a dear. But they don't know that. All you need to do is say a lot of words for their benefit, not believe them. And technically, you wouldn't really be lying, would you, if you really have done all those things? Oh, and make sure they don't get a word in edgewise. Don't ask them any questions. I guarantee that unless they're complete bimbos, they'll be so turned off they'll want to leave you alone."
"'Bimbos'?"
"Young, dense, or foolish females," Valia supplied helpfully.
Obi-Wan appeared to consider the doubtful merits of this idea, while Valia thought up another. "Or, another alternative is for me to drape myself all over you everywhere you go, and make good and sure they see us. As if you're already 'taken'. Of course," Valia mused, reconsidering, "that just might make them even more determined to bag you."
The look on his face suggested this option was even less desirable than her first one by a factor of about a hundred. Valia made loud smooching noises with her lips at him. He rolled his eyes and laughed. She would tease him, but only to a point. If he really was bothered by all the physical activity going on aboard ship and the slightest evidence that she and Qui-Gon were behaving no differently, then that plan was sure to mortally embarrass him. His ears would turn a fiery shade of pink and then he would have trouble speaking to her for two days afterwards.
"I truly think there is a mistake with the name of this ship, don't you? Are you sure it was the 'Diadem?' " Obi-Wan asked Valia with all seriousness, but she had a feeling he was getting in sync with her sometimes low-brow sense of humor.
"Yes, I'm pretty sure. Was there another name on the bow?"
"I thought it must have been 'Debauchery' "
Valia sat back against the couch, laughing. "Now that you mention it, it might have been 'Defloration'. Or maybe it was the 'Do Me' "
"The 'Diaphragm'," he deadpanned.
"Obi-Wan!" she laughed.
"Enough," Qui-Gon commanded the two of them mildly, all business now. Both Obi-Wan and Valia straightened in their seats.
"We need to decide the best way to arrive on Nyme' without arousing suspicion, and who we can speak with first about why we are there."
Valia thought quietly for a moment. "I would have to say that my brother would be the best person to start with."
"Which one, Avury or Velk?"
"Velk, the one who's taking over the farm operations. Avury...I haven't seen him in six Standard years. He's still in advanced flight training at the pilot training academy on Bellroon. He's been piloting freighters, but he's dreamed of flying fighters all his life. That's what he really wants to get into."
"And your relationship with Velk? Was that damaged when your father decided in favor of him to take over the farm?"
"Actually, no. We had always been close. I held no grudge against him when all that happened, and we still get along very well now."
"Then he can be trusted?"
"We don't talk much, but I know Velk is about as true a soul as you'll find anywhere. I can honestly say that, even though he could be a complete pain in the ass at times when we were growing up. If he knows anything, if there's anything he can do to help you, I believe he would do it."
"Very good. Now, as far as how we should arrive, and what our story ought to be, I believe Lia inadvertently suggested it just earlier, though in a bit of a twisted way."
Valia turned her wide gray eyes to Obi-Wan's face and tried to think of what they had said in their conversation that would been of any use in that regard.
"Sometimes the simplest way is the best. I see no reason for an elaborate cover here. Instead of pretending to be who we are not, perhaps we should just arrive as ourselves. Most people, especially away from the Core Worlds, know little about Jedi or their code. What they do or don't do," said Qui-Gon.
"So no one would question why we are there anyway," said Obi-Wan picking up Qui-Gon's train of thought. "If we say we are taking a leisurely crop-touring vacation, they may think nothing of it, not knowing we never do that."
"And if you are seen hanging out at my family's home, you'll just be accepted as part of the extended, big happy family. And besides, I just don't think 'farmer' when I look at you, Qui-Gon," said Valia. He wrinkled his brows in an 'oh really?' look at her, and quirked that little half-smile. He would have asked her quite honestly what she did think, but Obi-Wan was present. Valia appeared to be thinking of possible conversations her own statement could have led to. Before she could start to blush, she continued. "But wait, if this Relf Razuul, this gun runner, finds out two Jedi just made planetfall, if he is even there, won't he turn tail and run? Don't hunted criminals generally try to put as much distance between themselves and Jedi as possible?"
Qui-Gon gave her a wry smile. "If only that was the case. My thinking is that he is not going to be expecting Jedi to be trailing him. He will be on the lookout for authorities from the prison he escaped from on Corellia, or their law enforcement. Possibly bounty hunters, or a military detachment from Coruscant."
"So hopefully your arrival will appear to be coincidental," Valia said. "As for my own arrival now, my mother has been after me for years to visit anyway. And if you do need more of a plausible-sounding excuse for being there, I can always tell other people you are very distant relatives and I happened to run into you on Coruscant. Improbable as that might be, people here might buy it. They pay very close attention to family ties, and if you're related, even if the connection isn't exactly close, then you're in. You're accepted."
"That's assuming people here don't know we completely give up all ties to our natural families and heritage when we are brought into the Order. Do you think they know that?" asked Obi-Wan.
"I don't think so. I certainly didn't before I met you and you told me," answered Valia.
All this talk of family was niggling at some vaguely formed idea in the back of Valia's mind. It was a good idea. It was kind of warm and fuzzy. It seemed to solidify a little more when she thought about how close Qui-Gon was to her on the conform couch. Suddenly not caring in the least how Obi-Wan felt about it, she leaned slightly toward him and rested against his side. The conform couch took care of the rest, and responded by shifting and snuggling her more closely against him. He lifted his arm and draped it around her.
"Why is this one man so important?" Valia wanted to know. "I mean, in the overall scheme of things, it would seem he's fairly insignificant. There must be millions of arms smugglers in the galaxy. And that's just one crime out of so many worse things."
Qui-Gon idly fondled a section of her soft hair with his fingers. "Even though he is one of possibly millions, we must continue to stop unnecessary violence, and the tools for it wherever we can. Sometimes it's difficult to see how stopping one man can make a difference. But we believe it does. We must believe it does. One act can have far-reaching significance, even if it can't be seen in the present."
Valia still thought the whole business was a largely futile endeavor. If rogues and rebel factions wanted arms badly enough, they'd get them one way or another. But because Qui-Gon spoke with such quiet conviction, she could think of no reply. This belief was the driving force behind his life's work, she realized.
"Razuul's smuggling may have more of an impact on a neighboring world of yours," added Obi-Wan. "You're probably familiar with the neighboring star system and the history of the planet Darat III."
"Oh, yes. For seven hundred years now, the governments of the two largest nations on it have been describing what they are going to do to each other if this or that treaty is threatened, if the other does thus and so. These threats have become so creative and descriptive, the situation has become something of a joke in this neighborhood of the galaxy. They've taken on the quality of heirlooms. We are sure that each elected official goes through years of intense training in oration, and it's a requirement of office to commit to memory the threatening speeches that have been passed down from previous generations."
"Well, the local joke may be losing some of its humor, and turning out to be much more serious," Qui-Gon said, bringing up a selected holo-page from the datapad on the table in front of him. "Informants have told us that arms and parts have been funneled on to Darat III through one channel or another for the last five Standard years or so. But there has been a sharp increase in just the last few months." He directed Valia's attention toward this bit of data with his hand. "I foresee a mission to this world in the near future for the Jedi. In the form of a diplomatic effort to avoid war, or worse, a peacemaking attempt to end a war."
Valia tucked her feet underneath her and achieved an even higher level of comfort. Damn, but these conform couches were nice. "Talk of world war on Darat has been going on for centuries. The leaders of Nur'ym and Tarrin have elevated talk of war to an art form. Why get any more excited about it now?"
"Because in a sensitive situation such as this, war could become more than talk very quickly. We are not sure which side is the ultimate recipient of all these guns, but this increased demand and corresponding supply is alarming."
"We are sure Relf Razuul is somewhere within the layers of suppliers to this world. His name, or various aliases, has been attached to shipments to Darat. Both legal and illegal," said Obi-Wan. "Nyme' would make a very convenient staging area for running arms to Darat."
Valia stroked her fingers over the soft cloth covering the couch while she listened. She was definitely going to have to look into investing in some of these for her third store, the one with the largest sit-down eating area. Moisture-repellant upholstery was an absolute must, of course. Something in a nice shade of troposphere blue, maybe. No wait, wasn't it warmer colors that made people want to eat and drink more? That is, if she didn't have to replace that aggravating walk-in cooler. And if her landlord didn't try any more tricks to swindle her out of more rent money. She was going to have to deal with that the minute she got back to Coruscant.
"What about that recent load of blaster rifles that mysteriously turned up in that eastern spaceport in Tarrin...?" Obi-Wan was asking.
Maybe Belloro Brillion, Ravi's father, could suggest some good furniture dealers on Coruscant, Valia mused. Or maybe her friend Farinouk, who owned three restaurants, and must have gotten her fixtures somewhere locally.
"We must not assume the small third country, Varou, is as neutral and innocent as they put up all appearances to be..." Qui-Gon was saying.
Maybe Belloro could exert some influence on her landlord, too--
A pair of dearly familiar, deep-set blue eyes was fixed upon her. Valia realized they had been fixed upon her for several long seconds.
"Be mindful of the subject at hand, Lia. This concerns you, too. Furniture shopping will have to wait," he chided gently. There was an amused twinkle in those eyes.
Valia cleared her throat self-consciously and pulled herself back to the present.
Qui-Gon brought up several new holo-pages from the data pad. He directed her eyes to the figures floating above the table. "These are various payments received for arms shipments we have compiled. Prices for blasters, rifles, and parts."
Valia did know a little about what the fair price of a basic model blaster ought to be, as well as the power cells and parts for them. She studied the columns, leaning on the table. One column was prices paid half a Standard year ago. The second column was the most recent figures these mysterious Jedi informers had been able to obtain for what had been paid for approximately the same equipment. Even accounting for small differences in varying markets...
"Great flaming gobs of comet crust."
"Exactly," said Qui-Gon dryly.
And these were just the transactions that anyone had been able to dig up any information on. "These prices are outrageous," Valia said. "And I thought inflation on Coruscant was bad."
"The fact that so many more credits are changing hands recently for the same commodity suggests the tension on Darat is escalating. That someone wants to get their hands on as many arms as they can. Whatever the method, whatever the price." Qui-Gon sensed much of Valia's immediate affront was because of the high prices involved, rather than what the goods were possibly going to be used for.
"And there will be smugglers waiting to step in to fill the demand," Obi-Wan added. "Which will just help arm war-inclined segments of Nur'ym and Tarrin that much faster."
"So you can see how this situation can easily spiral out of control. If Relf Razuul is here, we will find him and return him to Corellia. In the process, he may name other illegal arms dealers involved, or rebel leaders. Anything we can do to help keep this only a war of words rather than energy bolts is a positive step," said Qui-Gon.
"Yes," Valia agreed.
"Wars, even local confrontations, have a nasty way of spreading, much like fungus or mold," said Qui-Gon, using an illustrative example he was sure Valia could understand. "It would be a tragedy if Nyme' or other nearby systems became involved, in a worst case scenario."
Valia shook her head slightly in denial. "War for Nyme' is a distant memory. The last organized conflict we knew was over nine hundred years ago. No living person there has any idea what it would be like."
Qui-Gon said nothing. He only fervently hoped that state of affairs would not change for her or her people. That they would be able to continue to afford to be complacent and happily grow fruit. And that she would know nothing but the peace and freedom to be able to continue happily selling it.