When Obi-Wan reached for salt, Si Treemba pulled his plate away in fear.

“Salt increases our need for dactyl a hundredfold,” Si Treemba explained. “It is a very dangerous substance to Arconans.”

Obi-Wan sprinkled the salt on his gorak bird. “We all have our own poisons, I guess,” he said cheerfully, taking a bite.

Si Treemba grinned at him and crunched on his dactyl. It was almost like being back at the Temple eating with Bant or Reeft, Obi-Wan thought. He missed his friends, but he liked Si Treemba more and more as he spent time with him. The Arconan had courage and determination that impressed him. And Obi-Wan was aware that it took nerve for an Arconan to break off from the group and help a stranger.

“You know,’ Obi-Wan remarked, “there’s one think I don’t understand. Jemba puts on a good show. But I sense he’s afraid of Clat’Ha and the Arconans.”

Si Treemba swallowed a mouthful of dactyl and fungi. “We think you’re right, Obi-Wan. He fears us. Even though it is not or intent, he knows we will destroy him.”

“How is that?” Obi-Wan asked.

“In Offworld mining, the chiefs and overseers make fortunes, while the common workers make nothing. Many of them are slaves. But at Arcona Mineral Harvest, we have no chieftains, no overseers. Each worker shares in the profits. This did not bother Offworld until Clat’Ha began to expand our operations. So she contacts the better workers at Offworld. If they are slaves, she offers to buy them and set them free if they will work for us. If they have signed work contracts, she offers to buy the contracts.”

“That sounds fair,” Obi-Wan said.

“It is fair,” Si Treemba agreed. “That is exactly why Jemba fears us. Many good workers wish to join us, only the bad will stay at Offworld.”

“I see,” Obi-Wan said. “So in a few years, Jemba will have only chiefs with no one to boss around. He’d hate that.”

Si Treemba grinned, then turned serious. “But Jemba has stalled us. He has raised the price on labor contracts and slaves. We can no longer afford to hire Offworld workers.”

Obi-Wan was beginning to see that the galaxy was a far more complicated place than he’d realized. The Temple had prepared him for so many things. But they had not prepared him for this. He had known that most worlds in the galaxy had outlawed slavery, and he had assumed that it was rare. But here were hundreds of workers locked in an illegal practice.

Obi-Wan was horrified at the idea of slavery. Since Offworld had paid good money to buy and train slaves, the company wasn’t likely to sell them cheap — or to let them go without a fight. Clat’Ha had been right when she told Obi-Wan he had stepped into a war. This battle would probably wage through mining camps on hundreds of worlds.

He wanted to race to the other side of the ship, lightsaber in hand, and right every wrong. But that wasn’t the way, he knew. He had to find those thermocoms. Exposure was the only way to fight Jemba.

He pushed his plate away. “We’ve searched everywhere on this side of the ship, Si” he said. “The thermocoms must be in Offworld territory.”

The Arconan boy took a deep breath, then released it slowly. “Good. We are pleased.”

“Pleased?” Obi-Wan asked. “But now we have to invade Offworld territory. I thought you were terrified of Hutts.”

“That we are,” Si Treemba agreed. “But still, we are pleased because if the thermocoms are not here, it means that we are innocent. Someone at Offworld Mining is really trying to kill us.”

“Yes, I can see how that would be comforting,” Obi-Wan teased, though he did understand. The Arconans were hatched from eggs and raised in huge nest — with hundreds of brothers and sisters growing together at the same time. From their youth, they were trained to think of themselves as a group. The thought that any Arconan — any of Si’s brothers or sisters — would do something that might hurt or shame the groups must have filled the young Arconan with dread.

“So are you ready to search in Hutt territory?” Obi-Wan asked. “We’ll have to find a way to sneak over.”

Si Treemba pushed away his plate of fungi and dactyl. “as we said before, Obi-Wan, we will follow you.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “You might be sorry you said that.”

Obi-Wan and Si Treemba crawled forward through the airshaft and gazed through a grate down into a dark cabin. A huge Whiphid was lying asleep on a bunk, a ball of sour-smelling fur. The odor of cheap Dresselian beer filled the room.

The cabin looked like a monument to filth, just like all the others Obi-Wan had seen today. The Whiphid wore dirty, half-cured hides from his homeworld of Toola. Piles of painted animal skulls were stacked in every corner, looking like hunting trophies. Worse that that, Obi-Wan could see that Hutts had been bunking in the same room: The floor was littered with the furry parts of half-eaten small animals.

Obi-Wan studied the shadowy scene below for a long minute. The Whiphid was probably drunk. Otherwise he would have been out playing sabacc or some other card game with his friends.

But something felt wrong. Maybe the Whiphid was only faking sleep. It could be a trap.

Obi-Wan tried to peer farther into the room. It looked empty but for the lone Whiphid. He couldn’t see the corners of the room, however.

His unease deepened. He could feel dark ripples in the force, but what did it mean? Evil streamed through this side of the ship like poisonous air. He’d searched several rooms already. He’d found illegal weapons — riot guns and biotic grenades. He’d found a small casket filled with credit chips that might have been stolen loot. But he hadn’t found any thermocoms.

He studied the Whiphid again. He was lying on his cot. Beneath his head Obi-Wan could see a barely concealed weapon. Among such creatures, sleeping with a blaster was the norm.

Obi-Wan watched the Whiphid breathe. He took shallow breaths, a bit too unevenly for Obi-Wan to be comfortable. If he was asleep at all, he was sleeping lightly.

Too often in the past, Obi-Wan’s impatience had gotten him into trouble. This time he decoded to trust his instincts.

Carefully, quietly, Obi-Wan scooted past this room. He glanced behind him in the cramped duct. Si Treemba was at his heels. The poor Arconan could hardly move his huge triangular head through the shaft.

Then Si Treemba banged his head on the metal duct. It made a small thump. Obi-Wan cringed.

Because Si Treemba’s people had evolved in the tunnels of Arcona, his marvelous faceted eyes gave off a faint bioluminescent light. Obviously, Arconans were not animal hunters. Obi-Wan only hoped that as they passed the cabin below, the Whiphid would not glance and see the Arconan.