Promise I haven't forgotten you guys. Life just got in the way. All of a sudden I was doing all the things: pretending to be a trauma victim for a search and rescue training exercise (I was made up to look like I'd run through a glass door, with fake glass in my injuries and everything); getting cast in a community musical when one of the principal roles had to drop out (it's awesome but I have much to remember; and rehearsals are getting longer); getting job interviews and putting in more applications; losing motivation for a while; taking part in a medieval feast (complete with silly games, far too much alcohol and a bonfire afterwards); and getting ready for a ball that's later this week (I found the dress. It's dark purple, halter-neck, and fits me perfectly). So most of that was pretty great for me, but it did mean you guys missed out – and for that, I'm very, very sorry.

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Obi-Wan tapped his fingers idly on the desk as the dataport before him hummed and processed another query. Beside him, Siri rested her chin in her hand as her eyes wearily scanned page after page of criminal records; searching for anything relevant. The quietness of the Jedi Archives, drastically different to the busy Couruscanti sky-lanes that were on the other side of the Temple's walls.

They had returned to the Temple, along with Kit, to provide a progress report to the Council and utilise the new leads they had picked up. The Jedi Temple housed some of the best analysis droids in the galaxy, and the biggest collection of information in one place. It also helped that the Archives were almost constantly being updated – and that on Coruscant many of the Jedi had their own ways of hearing about underworld goings on.

Kit was currently in a meeting with the Council – and after assuring that he could handle them on his own, the two Senior Padawans had gratefully set off to the Archives to begin compiling information on their lead and, with any hope, begin to track his movements. So far, it wasn't going as quickly as either of them had hoped – the name of the contact on the contract, which was their starting point, seemed to be more common than it might have been. 'Savlan' – and the similar forms of 'Sav Lan' 'S Alvan' and 'Sa-vlan' – produced a large amount of records, articles and holonet connections.

It was easiest to eliminate those it was highly unlikely to be by cross-referencing the results of the initial search with what was colloquially known as the 'underworld' database – which not only left a still-sizeable list, but was an expansive databank on its own. It wasn't until Siri connected the name to information on current bounties that the list started to dwindle, and after a while she exclaimed softly in triumph.

"This looks like our guy. Male Togruta, goes by the alias Savlan, has been connected to numerous dealings in the past few years – all of a somewhat underhand nature. Big monetary agreements, or just a name as part of a deal."

Obi-Wan frowned as he read the information. "Think he's a frontman?"

"I expect so," said Kit, who had softly approached. "The Council is pleased with our progress. And you two have done well to track him on record – but now, I think, it is time to look for information that is not usually written." He swung his Jedi cloak over his shoulders. "I am stepping out to get some not-so-fresh air. And perhaps a drink. I will contact you later – and we can discuss what we know so far." With a wink, Kit turned on his heel and left, drawing his hood over his face.

Both Obi-Wan and Siri knew what Kit was implying. He was evidently on his way to meet with a contact, probably in some lower level bar or gloomy club. Many Jedi found information through those who knew having a Jedi on their side, or being in the good books of one, was a fair way to stay alive. Obi-Wan had accompanied Qui-Gon many times on such errands, usually ending up in a seedy dive bar of some description where credits for drinks worked better than mind-tricks.

Siri switched off her datapad and glanced across at him. "Any ideas on where we can go? Adi's contacts aren't easy to find here."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I do indeed. You hungry?"

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Coco Town was bustling as usual. The late morning shoppers and early lunch-break-takers were out in full force today, Obi-Wan thought as he and Siri made their way from the transport down the street towards a familiar diner. The door chimed happily as they made their way through and it wasn't long before the resident droid waitress, affectionately referred to as Flo, had them seated in a booth.

"Obi-Wan, what is this place?" asked Siri as she glanced around the crowded room. Numerous species and patrons filled the booths along the walls and the stools at the bar, forming a noisy and colourful picture before them. Snatches of various languages were lost among laughter and intriguing smells that wafted through the air.

Before Obi-Wan could answer, a Besalisk suddenly appeared at their table. He was grinning widely as all four of his arms spread out in greeting. "Obi-Wan! Good to see ya, buddy. Say, that don't look like Qui-Gon with ya!" he added, tipping a wink to Siri, who couldn't help but grin in return.

"Dex Jettster, meet Siri Tachi - Senior Padawan and my very good friend. We came to have some lunch. And to catch up." Obi-Wan's gentle emphasis on the last words made Dex's smile flicker, before it came back bigger than ever. He gave a sly wink.

"Sure, sure. Be right with ya."

He gave Siri another wink and vanished back into the kitchen. Siri raised an eyebrow at the highly amused expression on Obi-Wan's face. "That's your informant?" she asked in a low voice.

"Trust me. Dex is an old friend – I met him through Qui-Gon. And he's got his finger on the pulse of the planet; even based here in Coco Town he knows what's going on down in the lower levels.If there are rumours out there about Savlan, he'll have heard something."

Siri nodded, casting her eyes around Dex's motley crew of patrons. "It's certainly got character."

"Character's the best thing to have!" Dex roared happily, dropping a few platters onto the table and squeezing in next to Obi-Wan. "Protato wedges, on the house. Your favourite, right, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan let out a delighted exclamation as Siri cautiously tried the protato wedges. They were crispy, salted and dripping in oil – and delicious. Siri gladly helped herself to more as Obi-Wan lightly and casually filled Dex in on the contact they wanted information about, and what little they knew of his description. Siri watched as Dex started nodding before Obi-Wan had even finished speaking.

"Savlan? Yeah," Dex elongated the word thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's a name I know. Never seen the guy myself, but know he's a Togruta. His name comes up every now and then. Been quietly busy for the last few years now."

"Have you heard anything recently?" Siri asked.

Dex's brow furrowed. "Once or twice. Recently heard him connected to an auction of some sort. Under the radar." Dex's usually open face took on a contemptuous expression. "Heard the word 'cattle' mentioned. Usually means slaves."

Obi-Wan felt the blood drain from his face. "An auction?"

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"That's what I said, love." Nadia Dargan's lithe fingers played around the edge of her half-empty glass. "It's all the buzz down here, if you know who to talk to."

Kit nodded to himself, turning the idea over in his mind. "An auction," he repeated quietly. The idea was horrible – but it did make sense. There were many wealthy scumbags in the universe who would pay immense amounts to be able to claim they had a Jedi slave.

Nadia was watching him closely. "You know what's up for sale, don't you? That info's been kept close to the ground. Would be worth a lot to me…" she trailed off imploringly.

"I don't know," Kit replied, keeping his face unreadable. "I only have suspicions. And suspicions could get you killed, Nadia."

Nadia's head-tails twitched as she threw back a swallow of her drink. "Touché."

"What else do you know?" Kit prompted her gently. Nadia only grinned at him and tapped her now empty glass with one elegant fingernail. Kit sighed to himself and signalled a nearby waitress, who arrived with another tall glass of the ruby alcohol Nadia favoured so much. It was fairly expensive, but the information was always worth it. Nadia took an appreciative mouthful and fixed Kit with a shining stare.

"This auction's no normal black market deal of whoever can pay highest. Its location isn't known; but you can guess it's not within the Republic. The entrance list is elite – that much has been made clear. Those of a more uncouth disposition who pushed too hard were … dealt with. As a warning."

Kit leaned forward over the table. "Elite?"

"Like…distinguished without morals." Nadia rolled her eyes. "Only way in, so say the rumours, is to be specifically invited."

"Invited by whom?"

Kit's only answer was a smile, and the tap of a fingernail on the top of the table. He sighed softly and pulled a high-credit chip from the inside of his robe. With a click, he placed it on the table-top beside his own vessel, shielding it from the rest of the room. Nadia gave the barest shake of her head – not enough. Kit placed another chip alongside the first. Nadia tapped the table's surface again. Kit fixed her with a stare.

"It's worth it," the Twi'lek replied quietly. "Possibly worth more than my life."

Kit knew Nadia wasn't one to lie. He had known her for many years now, and could count on one hand the amount of times her information had not been worth the price. If she was asking – needing – such a high price for this, it was likely it was the sort of information he desperately needed to see his fellow Jedi found and released. Two more credit chips found their way from his robe to the table. Kit knew he was lucky the bar was as dark as it was, as carrying around this much currency would almost certainly make him a target, Jedi or not.

Nadia nodded and carefully reached across the table. With a wink she slipped the credit chips down her sleeve before tapping Kit on the chest flirtatiously. Any one watching would only have seen one drunk alien propositioning another, and paid it no heed. After another long drink of her ruby liquid, she sighed and leaned close to Kit.

"The only way to get onto the list is to win favour with the auctioneer. Guy by the name of – and listen up, I'm only saying it once – Fesvk Wefos. He's wealthy and without morals of any kind, and he's how you get in. Been floating around the underworld for a while, never connected to anything enough to get caught for it. He's almost like a ghost."

Kit nodded. This was exactly what he needed.

"Don't know how you're meant to impress him enough; you'll have to work that out on your own. Though, the resort planet of Vaynai is a nice place to visit, this time of year" She fixed him with a level stare. "In the next five standard days, if you get my drift."

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Kit had almost forgotten it was in fact still daylight outside the darkness of the bar. Nadia had left (with her large amount of credits) alongside him, and with a wave and a wink had vanished into the half-light of Coruscant's lower levels, head tails twitching and a spring in her step. Kit smiled as he watched her go; momentarily wishing her well – the credits he had given her were enough to make her a mark for the greedy and desperate, but Nadia had proved in the past that she could take care of herself.

On the journey back to the Jedi Temple, Kit turned the name over in his mind. Fesvk Wefos. It was familiar to him in some way – not someone he had ever had dealings with or pursued, but perhaps a name connected to something he had once dealt with, read on a file as an aside. Pulling out his comlink he contacted Obi-Wan, and asked the two Padawans to meet him in the Archives immediately.

They were there before him, and already working at a private dataport to one side of the main hall. As he approached, Siri turned towards him, her usually fiery eyes full of worry. "Master Fisto; it's an auction," she said in a low voice.

The Nautolan nodded and laid a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "I know; my contact told me as much – and more. Good work on discovering it for yourself; and immediately understanding what that means."

"We have to get them out," Obi-Wan sighed as he turned towards them, inclining his head respectfully to Kit. "Jedi slaves…who would be so cruel? Master Fisto; did you say your contact gave your more information?"

"Indeed!" Kit fluidly pulled out a chair, swung himself into it, and leaned forward. "It's a high-profile event – only those invited have access. And the only way to get invited is to impress the auctioneer, Fesvk Wefos. He will be on Vaynai in a few day's time."

Obi-Wan had turned back to the screen before him and tapped in the name, cross referencing it against a merchant registry and the 'underworld' database. The image that came up was of a fairly young human man, with dark blonde hair and sharp cheekbones. He was smiling, at a party of some kind, but the eyes were deep and deadly. This was no mere merchant to be toyed with.

Siri shook her head. "I don't like him. There's something not right about him. Master Fisto?"

When he didn't reply, both Padawan's turned to him. Kit had an odd look on his face as he stared at the image, his pupil-less black eyes thoughtful. After a moment of silence, he spoke. "I know this man…this situation has become much more complicated."

"Master Fisto?" asked Obi-Wan. He looked back at the image. Aside from an arrogance that reminded him of Xanatos, now thankfully deceased, the man before him was a stranger, he was sure of it.

Kit's next words were reserved and measured. "This man is a past pupil of the Temple. A fallen Jedi, who embraced the Dark Side and then vanished. His records have been erased, but I knew him once as a young man, by the name of Karae Nalvas."

"Nalvas?" said Siri questioningly, before she suddenly sighed in resignation. "Nalvas is 'Savlan' backwards. It's a taunt."

Obi-Wan groaned quietly. "It is too. Think the Togruta is a false identity? Or maybe a manservant of some kind, to be the public face of whatever plans Nalvas has?"

"More likely to be the second," Kit mused.

Siri tilted her head to one side in thought. "Then why is he the auctioneer?"

"Arrogance, it is." Said a new voice.

All three Jedi bowed to the diminutive Jedi High Master who had silently come upon them. Yoda dismissed their formalities with a wave of his walking stick, leaning heavily on it as he carefully scrutinised the three before him. "Found out the leads you need, you have. A plan you need. Wait, this situation cannot."

"Master Yoda is right. We still don't know when the auction," Obi-Wan shuddered internally to use the word, "will take place. It could be mere days away."

Yoda softly tapped his stick on the polished floor of the Archive hall. "Impress Nalvas, one of you must."

"Yes, Master. But even if we did get into the auction, how could we get the captive Jedi out? Security for something like this – as horrifying as it is – is going to be intense," Siri said. "Maybe even impassable; even for a Jedi."

"We have to know more." Kit stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What information about this – event – that can be gathered from the outside has run thin."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "And it's not like we can walk in the front door, either, with Nalvas being Force-sensitive."

"Then we must get creative." Kit's black eyes were shining as he grinned. "And perhaps just a little theatrical."

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Sorry it wasn't very action-packed. All very important stuff, but not much with the thrill and tension, sorry. But now, things can get interesting…

Reviews loved.