Chapter 3

Sariss unconsciously stayed close to Anslinger as they walked through level after level of the stinking cesspool that was Nar Shaddaa. They both wore robes with hoods pulled over their heads. Her's was the traditional brown of the Jedi order, and it hid her freckled face and copper-red hair.

She looked over at Anslinger, who wore a grey robe, despite being the rank of Master in the order. A master with more a checkered past than most. He stood a foot and a half taller than her, and under the hood he had a worn and weather-beaten face, which was naturally a light-mocha colour. His long black hair was tied back, with a few streaks of grey, and he had kind dark brown eyes.

Though during their few months together, Sariss sensed that there were times when that kindness was forced.

The street they were walking on had bright sign after sign advertising everything from dancers to cantinas, casinos and prostitutes and signs in different languages advertising things Sariss definitely did not want to know about.

Speeders and swoops of various sizes soared only a few meters above them. Their drifts sending columns of air shooting through the pedestrians walking below, one knocking Sariss' hood off her face. Annoyance built inside her as she pulled it back on.

"Peace young one," Anslinger said beside her. His voice was deep and had calming quality to it.

Sariss didn't reply right away. She focused on doing as he'd said, checking the emotions that ran through her mind. "I just can't understand why anyone would subject themselves to living here, for any reason."

"Youth has it's advantages, an excess of energy and the ability to learn something more quickly than those older. Unfortunately wisdom is not normally one of those inherent traits," Anslinger said.

"And that means what exactly?" Sariss asked.

"Essentially that you've lived a somewhat spoiled existence at the Academy, and that you should wait a few more years, say ten, before presuming to judge other people and their choices. They aren't always so simple," Anslinger said.

Sariss pouted for a moment but kept quiet. She'd argued with Anslinger before and no matter what he always seemed to outwit her.

Her focus returned to their surroundings. "It just seems like an odd place for a Jedi to hide," she said.

Anslinger chuckled. "We aren't looking for a Jedi though. He left that path a long time ago, unfortunately."

"You aren't hiding your sadness very well," Sariss observed.

"I'm not trying to," Anslinger replied. "The man we're searching for was like a son to me once and we'd been through many adventures together before he turned."

"Do you think he's still a slave to it?" Sariss asked.

"Unlikely, the last I saw him I believe he had turned back, maybe not all the way to the light, but somewhere in-between. Even so, he'll always be tainted by it, and by his memories," Anslinger said.

Sariss grew quiet and contemplated on what he'd said as they reached a lift that would take them to yet another level. There they were approached a group of six people dressed in cloaks and various rugged attire. She still felt that anyone who looked closely would notice their tough faces and mixture of muscular and wiry bodies that characterized elite Republic soldiers. Even the two women looked scarier than most men Sariss knew.

Underneath their cloaks were all manner of weaponry. Sariss had thought bringing six soldiers along with two Jedi had been overkill, until see saw the look in Anslinger's eyes when she'd made a joke about it.

Anslinger stopped in front of a large bald man man with a hood over his face. Sariss would have known Commander Agear from his stature alone, but she could also she his scar, which ran across his face and the spiraling sun tattoo surrounding his left eye.

"Anything to report?" Anslinger asked.

"We've searched the majority of this sector sir, and still no sighting of the target yet," The Commander said.

"I told you it'd be almost impossible to find him," Sariss said to Anslinger.

"I said we'd had no physical sighting, miss, not nothing," the soldier said, "I've had Horace here slice into as many networks and security systems as he can, and you need to see this Anslinger."

Horace, the skinniest of the group, but still with a wiry body and short and spiky green hair, stepped forward and with a tap of his fingers on a comm unit attached to his wrist, a holographic screen appeared in midair in-between Sariss, Agear, Anslinger and himself.

After watching the clip that Horace played, Sariss felt a chill move through Anslinger and his expression was colder than any she'd seen on him.

"Where did this come from?" he asked.

Horace had a raspy smoker's voice, "it's from a small, hole in the wall cantina several levels down and two sectors over. Would've slipped past me if I hadn't come across a security report filed by the owner, a Rodian with ties to local crime. In the report he mentioned that one of the troublemakers had used sorcery. The official commented that he thought the man was crazy or had probably been intoxicated, but I thought the descriptions sounded like a force user."

"Well," Anslinger said, "we know which area we're searching next."