Jedi Apprentice 3: The Hidden Past
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"It's something to hold on to," Obi-Wan said.
"Yes so," Guerra said quietly. "So if I tricked my friend, if I maybe did not tell him everything in the beginning, maybe my good friend Obawan will understand and grant me help again."
A pause stretched out between them. Obi-Wan's irritation at Guerra left in a rush. He saw the terror and pain that Guerra had lived with. Just as on the mining platform, when Guerra had covered his fear of certain death with smiles and jokes, here on Phindar he would do the same. Qui-Gon had been right to help them. Obi-wan knew that now.
"Of course, I will help you," he whispered, but Guerra was already asleep.
* * *
The following night, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Guerra and Paxxi slipped the armor coats over their clothes and donned visors. Under the shelter of the overhang, they watched the activity at the warehouse by the spaceport.
There didn't seem to be high security. Syndicat members entered and exited the buildings without showing passes. They would only have to pretend to be delivering a shipment for cover. Or at least the hoped so.
Paxxi and Guerra had worked all day to father authentic-looking supplies. Although their containers were marked "Bacta" and "Medpacs," they were actually filled with old circuit parts. But at least they would have something to carry inside.
"As soon as we're inside, we should split into two groups," Qui-Gon instructed. "Guerra, go with Obi-Wan, Paxxi with me. We'll start at opposite ends and meet in the middle, if we can. If you can locate your goods and find the anti-register device, leave. If we can't find it, we all exit the building in twenty minutes. We can't take any chances."
"But what if we don't find it?" Paxxi asked.
"We try again," Qui-Gon said. "We can't risk being discovered. The sooner we get out of there, the better." He turned to Obi-Wan. "Don't forget to keep your hands in your pockets so that no one can tell how long your arms are. We must look like Phindians."
Obi-Wan nodded. The four walked quickly across the courtyard. At the door of the warehouse, Qui-Gon barked out, "Delivering bacta," to the guard at the door. The guard waved them through.
Inside was a vast, high-ceilinged space. Row after row of transparent shelving units went from one end of the building to the other. Each shelf was piled with bins and cartons. Syndicat members in silver armor coats loaded supplies onto floaters, then headed for the large loading dock in the rear.
Paxxi and Guerra stopped, their faces registering shock. Obi-Wan knew why. Here was row after row of everything the Phindian people desperately stood in line for. Med supplies. Food. Parts to make their speeders run, their droids and machines operational. All hoarded by the Syndicat. The brothers had known this, but seeing it all with their own eyes must have been like receiving a blow.
"Keep moving," Qui-Gon said in a pleasant tone that hummed with urgency underneath.
Hands in his pockets, Obi-Wan headed off with Guerra to the far end of the warehouse. They quickly strode down row after row. Other Syndicat members sometimes passed them. They would nod and keep going.
"This is easy, Obawan!" Guerra whispered. "So glad we stole these coats!"
Suddenly, the comlink in Guerra's coat began to signal him.
"Guard K23M9, report in," a voice said. "Explain whereabouts."
"It's probably a routine check," Obi-Wan murmured.
Guerra activated the comlink. "Warehouse delivery," he said.
After a pause, the comlink crackled. "Unscheduled. Explain."
Guerra looked at Obi-Wan in a panic. "Tell him he's mistaken," Obi-Wan whispered.
"Not so!" Guerra said rapidly into the comlink. "Orders received." He shut off the comlink.
"We'd better do this fast," Obi-Wan muttered.
They turned down the next row. As Guerra scanned the shelves, Obi-Wan kept watch.
"Found it, Obawan!" Guerra cried softly. "There, to shelf! I recognize my carton of energy cells. It must be here." He climbed up on the bottom shelf, then reached up with his long arms. He grabbed a carton and hauled it down. Peering inside, he smiled broadly. "In here, at the bottom."
Obi-Wan shoved the carton marked "Bacta" in its place. "all right, let's go."
They strode down the aisle, trying to look as though they weren't hurrying. An announcement suddenly boomed out of a speaker near them.
"Guard K23M9, report to security. Guard K23M9, report to security."
"That's me! What should we do, Obawan?" Guerra asked panicked.
Obi-Wan thought carefully. They had to get the anti-register device out of the building. "Give me your coat," he ordered Guerra.
Guerra hesitated. "But that will put you in danger, Obawan. This I did once on Bandomeer. Bu this I will not do again."
"The Force will protect me," Obi-Wan told him, even though he doubted it. "You must find Qui-Gon and get that device out of here."
"You can use the Force to escape?" Guerra asked.
"Yes. Hurry." Obi-Wan slipped out of his own coat. Reluctantly, Guerra did the same. They exchanged the armor coats. Guerra put on Obi-Wan's and tucked the carton containing the anti-register device under his arm.