Disclaimer: In no way at all do I own any of the original character, locations, ships, or anything else mentioned in Star Wars. They are all owned by George Lucas. I only own my OC. Any similarities between this story and another are purely accidental.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. My computer apparently thought it would be fun to break down and then miraculously come back to life at 3 in the morning after two days.

Phantom Creedy Lover: Welcome to the story! I'm glad you like it, and I hope you stick around for more.

xXxArwenxXx: Here's that update!

randomness: Good things come to those who wait! ; ) I was originally not going to add anything, but I changed my mind! Aah, the advantages of Force-abilities!

Sica Meni: (dumb Elan Sleazebaggano-style) I will finish this story and not give up…

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A small bus sped toward massive freighter docks of Coruscant's industrial area. Transports of various sizes moved supplies and passengers as giant floating cranes lifted cargo out of the starships. The bus stopped before a huge, intergalactic freighter starship, parking in the shadow of an overhang.

Inside the bus, Anakin and Padmé, dressed in peasant outfits, got up and headed for the door where Captain Typho, Dormé, Obi-Wan and Lyra were waiting.

"Be safe, Milady," said Captain Typho solemnly.

Padmé smiled. "Thank you, Captain. Take good care of Dormé…the threat's on you two now."

Dormé smiled as well, turning it into a smirk as she looked up at the Captain. "He'll be safe with me," she joked, before the smile slipped off her face and she a tear slipped down her cheek.

"You'll be fine," reassured Padmé.

"It's not me, Milady," whispered her faithful handmaiden. "What if they realize you've left the capital?"

Padmé looked to Anakin. "Then my Jedi protector will have to prove how good he is," she said.

Meanwhile, Anakin had been pulled aside by Obi-Wan. "Don't do anything without first consulting either myself or the Council," he instructed.

"Yes, Master," intoned Anakin mechanically.

Obi-Wan turned to Padmé. "We will get to the bottom of this plot quickly, Milady," he said. "You'll be back here in no time."

"I will be most grateful for your speed, Master Jedi."

"Time to go," muttered Anakin, to which Padmé only replied, "I know," and hugged Dormé one last time.

"Don't worry, Padmé," said Lyra comfortingly as the two friends separated. "Everything will be resolved soon. You won't have to remain in hiding for long."

Padmé smiled and hugged Lyra too, catching the older woman off guard. "Good, because I wouldn't be able to stand it," she joked.

Lyra smiled back, before turning to look at Anakin. "Take care of her, understand?" she said sternly, but with a smile on her face.

Anakin grinned and gave Lyra a one-armed hug. "I will, don't worry."

"And take care of yourself too."

"I will." Anakin picked up the luggage, and the two "peasants" exited the speeder bus to where R2-D2 was waiting for them. "May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan called out to Anakin, who returned the goodbye with a small smile.

Obi-Wan, Captain Typho, and Lyra watched as Anakin and Padmé disappeared into the vastness of the spaceport, R2 trundling along behind them.

"I hope he doesn't try anything foolish," muttered Obi-Wan.

Captain Typho looked at the Jedi. "I'd be more concerned about her doing something, then him."

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From high above, light streamed into the main hallway of the Jedi Temple down from the lofty ceiling. Obi-Wan and Lyra crossed the floor of the great hallway, headed for the Analysis Rooms.

Upon arriving, the two walked past several glass cubicles where work was being done. They came to any empty one and Obi-Wan sat down at the console, while Lyra stood behind him, watching. An S-P4 analysis droid came to life as a tray slid out of the console.

"Place the subject for analysis on the sensor tray, please," said the droid.

Obi-Wan placed the dart on the tray, which retracted into the console. The droid activated the system, and a screen lit up in front of Obi-Wan. "It's a toxic dart," he explained. "I need to know where it came from and who made it."

"One moment please."

Diagrams and data appeared on the screen, scrolling past at great speed. The screen went blank, before the tray slid out of the console again.

"Markings cannot be identified," reported the droid. "As you can see on your screen, subject weapon does not exist in any known culture, probably self-made by a warrior not associated with any known society. Stand away from the sensor tray, please."

"Excuse me?" said Lyra, sounding confused that nothing could be found. "Could you try again, please?"

"Master Jedi, our records are very thorough," said the droid. "They cover eighty percent of the galaxy. If I can't tell you where it came from, nobody can."

Obi-Wan picked up the dart, looked at it, then back to the droid. "Thank you for your assistance," he said, pulling Lyra out of the Analysis Cubicles.

"What now?" she asked as they walked back down the aisle.

Obi-Wan smiled. "I know someone who can identify this…"

Lyra groaned at the mischievous smile on her partner's face. I'm going to regret this…

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The two Jedi walked down a back street of downtown Coruscant that morning. It was a pretty tough part of town. Old buildings, warehouses, beat up Speeders and transporter rigs thundering past. Obi-Wan stopped suddenly at a kind of alien diner. On the steamed-up windows it read "Dex's Diner" in alien lettering.

Oh Force, I'm regretting this already, Lyra mentally moaned as they entered the diner.

A waitress droid wheeled by, carrying plates of half-eaten food. A counter with stools stood in the middle of the diner, while several booths lined the windows. The customers—tough-looking workers and freighter drivers—were all eating.

The waitress droid stopped in front of them. "Can I help ya?" she asked with a southern twang.

"We're looking for Dexter," said Obi-Wan.

The waitress droid looked at them suspiciously. "Whaddya want him for?"

"He's not in trouble," assured Obi-Wan, "it's personal."

After a slight pause, the droid went to the open serving hatch behind the counter. "Someone to see ya honey!" she called. "Jedi, by the looks of 'em," she added, lowering her voice.

Steam billowed from the kitchen hatch as a huge head poked through.

"Obi-Wan!"

"Hey, Dex," Obi-Wan greeted warmly.

"Take a seat! Be right with ya!"

Obi-Wan and Lyra slid into a booth, just as the waitress droid wheeled by them. "You want a cup of ardees?" she asked, wheeling towards the kitchen after both Jedi had said yes. As she entered the kitchen, the door to the counter opened and a large alien came through. He was big, bald, sweaty, and had four large arms.

"Hey, ol' buddy!" the alien greeted, easing himself into the seat opposite Lyra and Obi-Wan. "So, what can I do for ya—" his gaze landed on Lyra "—and your pretty friend?" He smirked. "Even Jedi are human, eh?"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "This is Lyra Sanome, a fellow Knight." He placed the dart on the table. "And as to what you can do for me, you can tell me what this is."

Dex's eyes widened. "Well, whaddya know," he muttered softly, picking up the dart. "I ain't seen one of these since I was prospecting on Subterrel beyond the Outer Rim."

"Can you tell me where it came from?" asked Obi-Wan.

Dex grinned, putting the dart back down on the table. "This baby belongs to them cloners. What you got here is a Kamino saber-dart."

"Kamino saber-dart?" echoed Lyra, injecting herself into the conversation. "I wonder why it didn't show up in our analysis archives."

"It's these funny little cuts on the side that give them away," he replied, pointing them out the two Jedi. "Those analysis droids you've got over there only focus on symbols, you know. I should think you Jedi would have more respect for the difference between knowledge and…wisdom."

"Well, Dex, if droids could think, we wouldn't be here, would we?" said Obi-Wan, making all three of them laugh.

"Kamino, it doesn't sound familiar," mused Lyra. "Is it part of the Republic?"

"No," answered Dex, "it's beyond the Outer Maze. I'd say about twelve parsecs outside the Rishi Maze, toward the south. It should be easy to find, even for those droids in your archive. These Kaminoans keep to themselves. They're

cloners; damned good ones, too."

"Cloners?" asked Obi-Wan, picking the dart up. "Are they friendly?"

"It depends."

"Depends on what, Dex?"

"On how good your manners are." The alien smiled eerily at the two Jedi. "On how big your…pocketbook is."