Qui-Gon waited on the landing platform that had been assigned to the Fahren, the stars above and the city of Cabhun stretched out below him. Cahbun was a relatively young city, and the original designs were not grandiose or impressive. It was pragmatic in its design and heavily influenced by the Kuhd, who valued scent above all other senses. Qui-Gon wondered what the Kuhd smelled when they arrived in the spaceport. Did the city smell welcoming? Did it smell of frustrated ambitions or just of a small, industrial town grown beyond its original function?

He could see Ben and Anakin striding away from him, towards the main Spaceport building. Even at this distance, he could see the tension in their body language and Anakin constantly glancing over his shoulder. Then they went through a door and were gone.
"Ready, Master," called Obi-Wan, joining Qui-Gon at the foot of the Fahren's boarding ramp.
"Time we were off," said Qui-Gon.
The younger man ran a hand through short hair, turning to take in the view below. Qui-Gon resolved to ask for Obi-Wan's first impressions later, to see if the city gave the younger Jedi the same sense of practicality as it did Qui-Gon.

They set off down the ramp and out into the city. It was evening and quite a few people were out, the standard work cycle just finished. Illumination in the streets was patchy but speakers played a constant stream of musical commercials, barely audible over the voices of pedestrians. Every street had railings which separated pedestrian paths from the speeders and swoops on the road. There was a lot of vehicle traffic and at every street corner sensor platforms controlled the traffic flow by emitting tones of different pitches.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan joined a group of Kuhd waiting at one of the sensor platforms for the chance to cross the road.
"Master," said Obi-Wan in a low voice. "Might be trouble."
Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan's gaze to see three red uniforms of the Wefhuk Investigative Service stopped on the opposite street corner. The officers were looking at the two Jedi and talking to each other with serious expressions.
"I know we've been good at finding trouble," said Obi-Wan. "But this is fast, even for us."
"Do not overanticipate, Padawan," said Qui-Gon. "There is no problem until there is a problem - but be on your guard."
"As always, Master."

The sensor platform let out two low beeps and then one high one, signalling that it was safe for pedestrians to cross. Qui-Gon led the way across the road, the Investigators lost from sight in the throng of people. Obi-Wan had just joined him on the other side of the road when one of the Investigators stepped directly in front of Qui-Gon.
"How can we help, officers?" asked Qui-Gon respectfully, stopping.
"I am Investigator Tylip," said one, stepping forward and tasting the air with a forked tongue. "Of the Wefhuk Investigative Service."
"I am Qui-Gon, and this is Obi-Wan."

Tylip spoke slow and calm but his body language was angry. His hands were clenched into fists and his gaze darted around faster than Qui-Gon could follow. Qui-Gon had seen enough Kuhd at the Spaceport when they had docked to know it was not normal behaviour. The junior investigators flanking Tylip also look disturbed. One of the juniors tried to look tough and intimidating but blinked nervously at Qui-Gon from a dark face and an impressive set of hair spikes.
"You are not residents of Wefhuk," said Tylip at last. "May I ask your business here?"
"You're sure it's business that brings us?" countered Qui-Gon.
"Wefhuk does get some tourists," said Tylip, hooking a hand into his belt. "But I think you are not one of them. You have purpose and discipline."
Qui-Gon dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Tylip turned to Obi-Wan, who was listening intently at Qui-Gon's side. The young Jedi had sensed the same anger and had adopted a non-threatening posture.
"What is it that brings you here?" asked Tylip, addressing Obi-Wan.
"We're looking for a missing woman," said Obi-Wan. "The mother of a friend of ours."
Tylip waited but Obi-Wan offered nothing more. Qui-Gon folded his arms across his chest, the movement drawing Tylip's attention.
"We are searching for an Ekash woman named Dr Rivea Colash," said Qui-Gon. "She arrived on Wefhuk a little less than two years ago."

Tylip removed his hand from his belt, pulled out a datapad and began scribbling notes.
"And you suspect she is still here?" asked Tylip.
"We don't know yet," said Qui-Gon. "We hope so."
"Two years is a long time," said Tylip. "You must be talented private detectives to follow a trail so cold."
"We are doing our best," said Qui-Gon.
Tylip's tongue darted out, tasting the air as he considered that. Qui-Gon couldn't tell what his sense of smell told him.
"I see," said Tylip eventually, sounding unconvinced.
Tylip returned his datapad to his pocket and tasted the air again.

"Tell me, are you aware that there are smugglers operating in Cabhun?" asked Tylip.
"We were not," said Qui-Gon. "But we are newly arrived. We haven't had time to become aware of local issues."
"And what are you aware of, exactly?"
"We're investigating plant nurseries as a source of possible leads. That has been our primary concern."
"This is pertinent to your investigation, I take it?"
Qui-Gon nodded, and Tylip tasted the air.

"What kind of smuggling?" asked Obi-Wan.
Tylip swung around to Obi-Wan, stepping into Obi-Wan's personal space to examine his face carefully.
"Wefhuk's primary industry is mining, particularly minerals like jade," said Tylip. "A profitable business, which a group of unscrupulous and violent thieves have been targeting."
"People have been hurt?"
"Seven," snapped Tylip, spittle spraying into Obi-Wan's face.
Obi-Wan wiped his face while Qui-Gon resisted the urge to place himself between them. The junior investigators looked torn between supporting Tylip or restraining him. Obi-Wan met Tylip's gaze head on and held his ground. Tylip was the first to look away, taking a step back and reining his anger in.

"When did you first arrive on Wefhuk?" asked Tylip crisply, replacing his anger with cool formality.
"Less than a standard day ago," said Obi-Wan. "We're still not adjusted to Wefhuk time zones."
"Where is your accommodation? One of the hotels?"
"We have so far remained on board our ship."
"The name of your ship?"
Obi-Wan glanced to Qui-Gon before answering, "The Fahren."
Tylip added this to his data-pad.
"If you should think of anything," said Tylip. "Contact the Investigative Service and ask for me."
"We wish you luck in your investigation," said Qui-Gon, dipping his head in farewell.
Tylip turned away sharply and strode down the street, his junior investigators hurrying to catch up.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged looks as they resumed their original course.
"Why do I get the feeling we've just become the lead suspects?" asked Obi-Wan dryly.
"We didn't tell him we were Jedi," said Qui-Gon. "He knows we left out some details. He's angry but not easily fooled."
"We could always tell him," said Obi-Wan. "Luke Skywalker is open about his Jedi identity."
"He is also quite open about his allegiance to the New Republic. Many in the galaxy tend to think of the two as linked," said Qui-Gon, shaking his head. "This is a newly settled planet with tense relations with the New Republic's government. I doubt revealing ourselves will help our cause. There is also the not so inconsequential fact that Tylip is looking for a target for his anger."
Obi-Wan frowned and fell silent, his forehead creased in thought.

Qui-Gon opened his own mind and senses as they walked. It was one of many Jedi exercises they had neglected over the past month. He saw the paths on which they walked were surfaced with compacted stone fragments. He felt the imperfections and irregularities beneath his boots. He knew from his brief research that the stone had been left over from the city's recent construction phase. The buildings that lined the streets were mostly built of a stately green stone but some were cobbled together from recycled ferrocrete. The building facades were plain but with an open design that shared noise and warmth with one's neighbors. There were as few public doorways as possible but plenty of archways, windows and verandahs. Qui-Gon was fully aware of the street and his connection to the Force was stronger for it.

As they approached the market districts the pathways grew even more crowded. Qui-Gon studied each of the pedestrians as they passed: Kuhd, Human, Phindian. Each was a unique and wonderful contribution to the galaxy and to the Force. Wefhuk was not an overcrowded metropolis like Coruscant. The people stepped aside for children playing underfoot. They stopped to greet their friends in the streets. They laughed. Qui-Gon could very easily feel at home here.

They approached their first destination, a garden nursery located next door to a bar playing music loud enough to be heard from across the street. The nursery itself was a cramped little building made of ferrocrete with two stories and a balcony. A painted sign in an unfamiliar language hung over the entrance and local plant life hung in pots and slings from the balcony. Several curling black plants in the hanging pots stretched out their fronds towards the next-door bar. As the bar music quietened between songs, the fronds drooped in disappointment. When the music grew louder again, the fronds stretched out again enthusiastically. Qui-Gon smiled to see them.

He walked through the nursery's doorway, Obi-Wan following close behind. The floor was divided into a series of garden beds, all layered in moist black soil with a stone fragment path winding its way around the room. The plants were green and brown and black, curving and rustling; responding to the presence of the Jedi. Still more plants hung from the ceiling, and a rope ladder at the back wall disappeared upwards to the second storey.
"Hello?" called Qui-Gon.
The black plants twitched even more at the sound of his voice. There was a rustling and a thin young human slid down the ladder.

"Welcome, welcome," called the boy, ignoring the path and walking through the garden beds.
Some of the plants stretched out to grasp his feet but he shook them off gently with the ease of habit.
"How might I serve?" he asked.
"We are looking for an Ekash woman who may have been here two years ago," said Qui-Gon. "She is a plant scientist."
"Oh," said the boy, looking crestfallen. "We've only been here six months."
"I see," said Qui-Gon, bowing. "Thank you for your time."

"Are you sure I can't interest you in an Achid plant?" asked the boy, brightening again as the idea occurred to him.
He gestured at one of the black plants that was desperately stretching for them.
"No, thank you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am quite sure."
"You might regret it."
"I don't think so."
"They're native to Cabhun, you won't find them anywhere else."
"No. Thank you."