Qui-Gon was tired, feeling his age in his bones. He had been told the Wefhuk Investigator was in discussions with the Armistice's Captain. It had taken Qui-Gon twenty minutes to find the Captain, only to be told that the Investigator had already left.
"Any idea where I might find him?" asked Qui-Gon, heart sinking as he guessed the answer.
"No idea," said the Captain apologetically, tongue flickering. "I think he was headed for the galley, though. We carry passengers from Wefhuk and he wanted to question them."
"I see," said Qui-Gon, bowing. "Thank you for your assistance."

Qui-Gon went to the galley, where the Investigator had been seen briefly before reportedly heading for the hold. Qui-Gon turned around and trudged back to where he had started from. The Armistice's hold was massive, the brown metal alloy of the walls scratched and scored with age and heavy use. The much smaller Fahren was a personal yacht which took up barely a quarter of the hold's full space.

Qui-Gon approached the Fahren, eyeing the damage to the cargo bay from the outside. The metal had curled outwards, away from the source of the explosion. It was possible that the damage to the ship's basic structure meant that the ship was unsalvageable. Sections of the Fahren still shone the original silver, with the green and gold trimming snaking its way up and down the wings. The trimmings ended in an intricate knot on the nose, badly scratched by floating debris.

Poppi and his work crews were gone, though several of their toolboxes still sat by the Fahren. The rest of the hold was empty and silent. There was a noise from inside the ship, a squeak of gears. Frowning, Gui-Gon approached the Fahren and pressed the switch that lowered the ramp. A purple light flashed at him, indicating that the ramp had been sealed shut.
"Hello, is there somebody in there?" called Qui-Gon.
There was silence but Qui-Gon was certain that somebody was there, frozen in place by the sound of his voice.
"Hello?" repeated Qui-Gon.
He tried the ramp again but it wouldn't open.

Suspicious, Qui-Gon backed up several steps and leapt up to land lightly on one of the Fahren's wings. The wing creaked under his weight but held. He pulled his lightsaber from the folds of his robe and climbed higher on the wing, towards the damaged roof. Careful of the sharp edges of metal, Qui-Gon leant over the hole and looked down into the Fahren's cargo bay. He was standing over the front of the bay, less than two metres from the cockpit where he had been trapped earlier. Poppi's work crews had switched off their lights to save power, leaving the cargo bay in shadow. It would almost seem as if nothing had happened, if pieces of debris hadn't been partly cleared to the corner on his left.

"Who's there?" asked Qui-Gon, crouching down.
There was a furtive movement from the shadows on the right. Qui-Gon leapt from his position just as a trio of darts was fired at his head. He ignited his lightsaber as he landed inside the Fahren's cargo bay, casting more light into the shadows. In the green glow, he was able to make out the features of the sniper who had attacked his companions earlier. She was a blonde and heavyset human woman. The wrinkles and hard lines on her face were deepened by the poor lighting, making her seem older than she probably was. A blowpipe was clutched in her thick fingers as she stared, transfixed by Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

"Put the weapon down," Qui-Gon boomed. "And you will not be harmed."
She gave a choked little laugh.
"Oh, honey," she said, her voice rough and husky. "I don't think so."
Qui-Gon's lightsaber swung through the air as she raised the blowpipe to her lips. The woman squealed as her blowpipe was neatly cleaved in two. There was movement from behind him but before he could turn he was struck by an electric charge.

He staggered, his lightsaber dropping from spasming fingers. The woman darted forward, seizing the lightsaber and skipping back from Qui-Gon's clumsy swipe. Qui-Gon turned, forcing his muscles to obey him. The pile of debris scattered to reveal a single-wheeled serving droid, an electric prod mounted on its chest. The droid's thin arms waved erratically, as if to keep its balance.
"W3-D7 tells the Jedi to surrender!" squawked the droid. "The Jedi must surrender."
"The Jedi does not take orders from you," said Qui-Gon calmly.

Qui-Gon threw himself backwards and used the Force to call his lightsaber from the woman's hands. The droid squealed at a painfully high pitch, an electric charge striking the wall where Qui-Gon had been standing. The lightsaber flew to the ends of the woman's fingers but he lost his concentration as the droid's second charge hit him squarely in the chest. He reeled backwards as the woman clutched the lightsaber tight to her chest and the droid advanced across the carpet. Qui-Gon scrambled backwards, through into the dark and ruined sleeping cabin. Another charge from the droid hit one of the bunks as Qui-Gon took shelter behind the central column. The electrical charge dispersed itself harmlessly against the damaged column, the bedding from one of the bunk's still pinned in place by a metal splinter about three feet long.

Qui-Gon picked up a metal fragment that had once been part of a crate in the cargo bay and waited with his back against the column. The droid stopped at the entrance to the cabin, its single wheel unable to cross over the debris that covered the floor.
"There's nowhere to run, honey," shouted the woman, taking care to remain behind W3-D7.
"Were you responsible for the bomb that nearly destroyed this vessel?" asked Qui-Gon politely, as if he were casually enquiring about the weather.
"A' course not," she said. "We just want that parcel and we wouldn't get it if we blew up your ship now, would we? If you just give us the parcel, we'll be on our way."
"I am afraid," said Qui-Gon. "That I do not know what parcel you are referring to."
The woman made an exasperated noise and Qui-Gon made his move.

He threw the metal fragment to the left, where it bounced noisily off the wall. As the droid swiveled and fired a charge at the sound, Qui-Gon surged out from behind his cover. He seized the metal splinter with both hands and, in one smooth movement, pulled it from the central column and speared the droid through the chest-plate. The droid screamed loudly, sparks erupting from its chest as it toppled over. It continued to scream, its lone wheel spinning uselessly against the floor. Qui-Gon held out his hand and the lightsaber was ripped from the spluttering woman's grasp.
"Now," said Qui-Gon calmly, as she shrank back against the wall. "I have some questions I would like answered."