Jedi Quest 8: The Changing of the Guard

Chapter Three

Tyro did not tell Obi-Wan the details of the favors he had called in and the promises he had made. He just gave him the results that he'd wanted. It was not the first time that Tyro had proved an invaluable friend.

"I'm still negotiating with the Central Posting Service about the Stop Comm order," Tyro said as Obi-Wan and Anakin greeted him in one of the Temple's small meeting rooms. "The good news is that the order has gone through. The bad news is that I don't know how long I can suppress the announcement of the arrest. But you might as well proceed to the Confiscation Station at the prison. You have a release for Slam's vehicle.

It's an Ubrikkian star yacht."

Anakin whistled. "Sweet."

"All the data records, ID text docs, and wardrobes are onboard," Tyro said. A small smile brightened his furry face. "I understand that Slam is a bit of a dandy."

Obi-Wan was more concerned with other matters. "Give us as much time as you can. It will take us a standard day to travel to Romin from the prison."

"You know I will do my best for you, my good friend," Tyro said. "You go into danger, and I wish you safety and success. The Svivreni do not say good-bye. We consider it bad luck. We say, the journey begins, so go."

Tyro raised his hand, fingers spread, in the Svivreni gesture of good- bye. Obi-Wan did the same. Tyro then pressed his palm against Obi-Wan's. It was a gesture used by the Svivreni to those closest to them.

"So go," Tyro said softly, and left.

Mace's good-bye was not quite as fond as Tyro's. He agreed to the necessity of the plan, but he didn't approve of the rule bending.

"Just try not to alienate the entire Senate," he said. "In other words, succeed." He drew his robes together in dismissal. "May the Force be with you, and may I not hear from you until it's safely over."

The four Jedi had packed their gear and were streaking across the galaxy within hours.

At the Greylands Security Complex, they had no trouble with the papers Tyro had supplied them with. They were given access to the Slams' ship.

The Ubrikkian star yacht was a light cruiser, built for quick getaways. Equipped with a hyperdrive, it carried no weapons except for two hidden proton torpedo shafts. It had also been modified to contain more secret compartments than Anakin had ever seen. Every time he thought he had found them all, he discovered another hidden within the various deck platings of the ship. The ship had been scanned by the authorities, in hopes of discovering the cache of crystalline vertex the gang had heisted on the Vuma job. No contraband had been found, and the rest of the gang's possessions had been searched and then left intact.

Ferus went through the computer files. The gang kept meticulous records and multiple ID docs for false identities. Siri found a device to override iris scans and, rolled into a tiny hidden compartment under the cockpit dash, a detailed analysis of the accounting practices of the Senate Relief Fund.

Ferus whistled under his breath. "I could be wrong, but I think they were planning to rob the Senate depository."

"That's a big job, even for the Slams," Obi-Wan said. "Good thing they landed in prison."

Anakin flipped further through the file. "This is just speculation.

They didn't have a concrete plan."

"We'll go over the files in depth later," Siri said, her head in the Slams' personal wardrobe closet. "We'll have to be up on the latest criminal tech scams. There's a criminal gossip network. Our reputation will precede us. We have to be the Slams. Speaking of which…"

Siri pulled out a purple cloak made of vela cloth. It was embroidered around the collar with thick braiding in a bright shade of green. "For you, Slam," she said, handing it to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan eyed the garment. "Questionable taste, to say the least."

Siri winked at Anakin, but the face she turned to Obi-Wan was serious.

"Tyro said that Slam is well known as a dandy. You have to wear it."

Obi-Wan's face was a study in distaste as he slipped on the ornate robe. Siri adjusted the elaborate collar so it framed his face. Anakin bit his lip. It was hard to keep his laughter inside.

Siri nodded thoughtfully. "Now you need some boots to match." She leaned over and pulled out a pair in red polished leather. "Here."

Obi-Wan took a step backward. "No"

"Oh, for galaxy's sake, don't be such a stick-in-the swamp." Siri tossed the boots at him. "You're impersonating a criminal. You have to dress like him. Don't you want to catch Zan Arbor?"

Siri turned her head slightly and winked at Anakin again. He turned away to hide his smile. Even Ferus looked as though he was suppressing a laugh.

Obi-Wan kicked off his travel boots and slipped on the soft leather boots. He turned to the large mirror on the inside of the closet door. "I really hate this," he groaned. "I look like a full-feathered idiot."

"I think you look… incredible," Siri said. But her mouth was twitching, as she couldn't keep it in any longer. She burst out into a peal of laughter.

It was impossible for Anakin and Ferus not to join in.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at them. "So glad to amuse."

Then he reached into another closet. They heard the soft sound of rustling septsilk. Obi-Wan tossed a garment at Siri. It was made of a soft blue clinging material, and there wasn't much of it. "There you go, Valadon."

Siri looked at the piece of clothing. "Where's the rest of it?"

Obi-Wan grinned. "I'm afraid that's it."

"I'm not going to wear this." Holding it between her thumb and forefinger, Siri tossed the tiny garment away with distaste.

Obi-Wan's expression was bland as he retrieved it. "Don't be such a stick-in-the-swamp. Don't you want to catch Zan Arbor?"

Grimly, Siri pulled the robe over her tunic and leather leggings. Obi- Wan burst out laughing at the sight of the feminine, flowing garment haphazardly flung over Siri's rough clothes. "I don't think that's how you're supposed to wear it."

Siri gritted her teeth. "We're not on Romin yet."

Still chuckling, Obi-Wan reached into the closet and tossed out more conventional garments for Anakin and Ferus, dark tunics and trousers.

"Anakin, you'll be Waldo, and Ferus will be Ukiah," Obi-Wan said. "You fit the descriptions, roughly. Waldo is the security expert, and Ukiah is weapons and defense. Anakin, you'll need a headgear disguise, since you've seen Zan Arbor recently. I think that should be enough."

Obi-Wan pulled a half mask from his knapsack. "I got this from the med clinic at the Temple. It's used to knit synth-flesh together after an injury. We can tell people you were wounded in the escape, if they ask. Try it."

Anakin pulled on the mask. It fit over his forehead and covered half his face, leaving his mouth and chin uncovered. There were holes cut for his eyes, with tinted lenses. It was made of a slippery fiber, and it felt cool against his skin.

He was glad to have something to hide behind. He remembered Zan Arbor's penetrating gaze, the sense that she wanted to explore his mind, figure out the essence of him. He didn't want Zan Arbor to know who he was.

He didn't want to get close to the person who could create the Zone of Self-Containment. He still wasn't positive how the Zone was transmitted. He suspected it had been through water. That was something that Zan Arbor had perfected. Anakin never wanted to be under its influence again.

Was he wrong to think there had been some sort of connection between him and Zan Arbor? He hadn't told Obi-Wan about that. She had sensed there was something different about him. He had intrigued her. Even though he'd been in the Zone, he had sensed that this woman had made an impression on him he wouldn't forget. And he had made an impression on her. What if she recognized him again?

Obi-Wan was speaking, and Anakin wrenched his attention back to his Master. "I met Zan Arbor very briefly almost eighteen years ago. She won't recognize me."

Siri wrapped her utility belt around the soft blue robe. "Question.

What if we meet someone on Romin who's met the Slams before?"

"Not probable," Obi-Wan said. "The Slams operated in a different corner of the galaxy. Their reputation is big, but they didn't travel very far. It's a risk we'll have to take."

Obi-Wan's comlink signaled. It was Tyro, and Obi-Wan put him in holomode so the rest could view the communication.

Tyro flickered before them in miniature form. "I've received my answer from the authorities," he said. "I did my best, Obi-Wan. But I could persuade them to agree to keep the Slams' arrest secret for only three standard days. After that it will be posted on the HoloNet news. I'm sorry.

You'll have to complete your mission in that time." Tyro looked worried.

"Is three days enough?"

"Most likely not," Obi-Wan said. "But it will have to do."