"You have made friends with Doby and Deland. See if they know how the race could be fixed and if there is heavy betting going on."

"And what will you do, Master?"

"I'm going to work from the opposite end. If we want to find out who is fixing the events, we have to find out who benefits. That means that someone, or a group of beings, are placing bets on the outcome."

"But how can you discover who that is?"

"I have to reacquaint myself with Uso Yso."

Anakin piloted Doby and Deland's speeder back to the Podrace hangar, leaving Obi-Wan as he checked in with Siri and Ry-Gaul to see if other complications had sprung up. Anakin was glad that the investigation had allowed him to return. He already felt that Doby and Deland were friends.

He'd made a promise to them, and he intended to keep it. The best part was that he could do this and still follow Obi-Wan's instructions. Working on their Podracer would be the perfect cover for him to keep his eyes and ears open.

But if he were honest with himself, Anakin had to admit that it wasn't just his promise and the mission that drove him back to the Podracer. It was how good it felt to be here. Here he did not have to worry if he was good enough. He did not need to question himself.

All he had to do was make something go very, very fast.

He saw Doby and Deland working on the engine as he parked the speeder and hurried over. Deland raised a grease-stained face. "Am I glad to see you! We have a rotor problem we can't seem to fix."

"Let me have a look." Anakin leaned over the engine. "This could be a connector problem. Let me take a look at the valves. Hand me that hydrospanner, will you?"

Anakin took the hydrospanner from Doby and bent over the engine. "Have you run the track in a speeder yet?" he asked. "An advance look is always a good idea." The more information he got about the race, the easier it would be to figure out how it was fixed.

"Can't," Doby said. "The Podracers won't know the track until they're racing."

Anakin looked up. "What do you mean?"

"The onboard nav computer will flash us the next area of the track every three minutes," Deland explained. "We have to race and navigate at the same time. It's a new innovation that Sebulba dreamed up."

"He knows Hekula can do it, with his reflexes," Doby said. "Plus they have such a maneuverable Podracer. The rest of us have had to reconfigure a bit, but it sure does make the race more exciting."

Anakin tinkered with the valves. Could this be the key to how the race was fixed? What if Sebulba's Pod-racer got the track information before anyone else? That would definitely give Hekula an edge.

"Who sends the route to the onboard computers?" he asked.

"The official timekeeper set up the program," Doby said. "Don't know his name."

But I do. It's Aarno Dering. And Aarno Dering is dead. Someone else will have to run the program. But who?

"Who's the favorite?" Anakin asked. "How are the odds running?"

"Ten to one for Hekula," Deland said. "Rumor has it that Sebulba has bet a fortune on his son."

Of course he has. He knows Hekula will win.

Anakin glanced over the hood of the Podracer to where Sebulba was sitting, sipping tea while the pit droids worked on Hekula's Podracer.

Sebulba looked over and met his eyes. Something happened behind the creature's bulging eyes. Memory clicked in.

He rose, his front arms waving, and approached. "Now I recognize you, slave boy. All you needed was a little grease on your face." He laughed.

"What an unfortunate surprise. I thought you were dead."

"Not yet, Sebulba," Anakin shot back. "I'm here to make sure your son loses the way you did back on Tatooine. Badly."

"Luck was on your side that day, slave boy," Sebulba hissed. "You are just a human, slow and clumsy as a bantha. I should have killed you then."

"You tried," Anakin said coolly. "But you failed. Failure seems to be your destiny."

"Insolent boy!" Sebulba hissed, raising his hand for a blow. Anakin had no doubt that his blow would still be powerful enough to send him flying.

But he was a Jedi now. Sebulba's arm moved so fast it was a blur, but to Anakin it looked like slow-motion. He easily stepped aside in time. The wind fanned against his face. Sebulba staggered, his balance upset. He had expected to land the punch.

"You can't touch me," Anakin said. He whispered the words, close enough now to smell Sebulba's rank scent. "You were never fast enough. You still aren't."

"Slave boy!" Sebulba went toward him again. This time Anakin whirled and delivered a kick that sent Sebulba flying.

Enraged, Sebulba started toward a waiting Anakin, but suddenly the Glymphid Aldar Beedo stepped between them.

"You're disturbing my concentration," he said to Anakin, tapping a blaster on his belt.

"He's a Jedi," Doby whispered. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"All beings are the same once they're dead," Beedo said, his eyes cool.

Anakin hesitated, not sure what to do. The situation now threatened to spiral out of control. Hekula was starting across to join in. If a fight began, others could be hurt, including Doby and Deland.

"Master!" Suddenly Djulla appeared and tugged at Sebulba's robe. "I have made fresh tea."

"So what?" Sebulba said furiously. "Get away from me, slave!"

He struggled to kick Djulla aside with his hind legs while keeping his eyes on Anakin. Deland jumped forward to protect his sister. Sebulba's kick connected and Deland flew through the air, smashing against the cliff face.

He landed awkwardly on his arm with a cry.

"Deland!" Djulla ran toward her brother. She knelt beside him. "You're hurt!"

"Get away from him!" Hekula suddenly roared, rushing forward. ''You take orders from us! Get back to your post!"

Djulla hesitated. Aldar Beedo shrugged and turned away, tucking his blaster back into his belt. "This is a family matter," he said. "I have work to do."

Deland's teeth gritted. "Go back," he told his sister. "I am all right."

Hekula turned to Anakin. "If you keep insisting on making trouble, you'll be sorry."