"Well, perhaps you don't know that you miss him," Tahl said. "But you do."

Annoyed, Qui-Gon stood. "Do you forget what he did? He stole the starfighter to destroy those deflection towers. If he had been shot down, you would have died on Melida/Daan!"

"Ah, so you have a new talent. You can see things that might have been.

Must come in handy."

Qui-Gon paced in front of her. "He would have stolen it again, if I hadn't stopped him. He would have left us on that planet with no way to get off."

Tahl pushed Qui-Gon's chair out with her foot. "Sit down, Qui-Gon. I can't see you, but you're making me nervous. If I don't blame Obi-Wan, why should you? It's my life you're talking about."

Qui-Gon didn't sit, but he did stop pacing. Tahl cocked her head, trying to gauge his mood.

"It was a tough call," she said in a gentler tone. "You went one way, Obi-Wan another. It seems to me that you're the only one who continues to blame the boy. And he is a boy, Qui-Gon. Remember that."

Qui-Gon was silent. Once again, he found himself discussing Obi-Wan.

And he didn't want to discuss his Padawan with Tahl, or even Yoda. No one knew how much of himself he had invested in the boy in such a short time. No one knew how Obi-Wan's decision had grieved him.

"Maybe we should talk about the investigation," he said finally. "It's a high priority. We're wasting time."

"True," Tahl said, nodding. "I think the Council is right. We can't treat this lightly. There is danger here."

"Where should we start?" Qui-Gon asked, sitting down. "Do you have any ideas?"

"One of the thefts was in a semi-restricted area," Tahl pointed out.

"Some student records are missing. Let's see who has access to the Temple registry. When you don't know where to begin, the obvious is a good place to start."

Obi-Wan strapped a blaster to his hip and made sure his vibroblade was in its holster. He had received a report of holdouts in the Melida sector who had refused to turn over their weapons.

He, Cerasi, and Nield were still living in the Young's underground vault until accommodations could be found. It wouldn't be right to take housing when so many were without. He walked out into the main vault where his Security Squad waited. He nodded at Deila, his second in command. They were ready.

They climbed up a ladder to a grate and hoisted themselves onto the street. They had gone only a few steps when Obi-Wan heard the sound of running footsteps behind him. He turned and saw Cerasi.

"I heard about the holdouts," she said as she ran up, fastening her warm hooded tunic. "I'm coming with you."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Cerasi, this could be dangerous."

Her green eyes glinted. "Oh, and the war we fought together wasn't?"

"You don't carry a weapon," Obi-Wan said, exasperated. "There could be shooting."

"Relax, Obi-Wan," Cerasi said, buckling a thick belt around her waist.

"I have my own bag of tricks."

Despite his worry, Obi-Wan couldn't help smiling. Cerasi had devised a number of trick "weapons." They were slingshots that gave off the sound of blaster fire.

"All right," he agreed. "But for once, follow my orders, will you?"

"Yes, Captain," Cerasi teased.

It was a cold day, and their breath mingled as it clouded the air. They passed a square where some members of the New History Squad were busy dismantling a war monument. A group of Melida Elders watched, their faces stony.

"They expect us to put up monuments to ourselves, I hear," Cerasi said.

"I can't wait to surprise them. No more war memorials on Melida/Daan."

"Are you sure?" Obi-Wan asked with a straight face. "I can see you up on a pedestal holding up your slingshot — "

Cerasi nudged him with her shoulder. "Watch it, friend." She grinned at him. "I didn't know Jedi were allowed to joke."

"Of course we are." Obi-Wan's face flushed. "I mean, they are." He spoke lightly, but a shadow must have crossed his face because the smile left Cerasi's lips.

"You gave up so much for us," she said sadly.

"And look what I received," Obi-Wan replied, swinging his arm to encompass Zehava.

Laughter bubbled out from Cerasi. "Sure. A destroyed city, bad food, no heat, a home in a tunnel, a job disarming fanatics, and — "

"Friends," Obi-Wan finished.

Cerasi smiled. "Friends."

The large, two-story building where some of the Melida holdouts were living seemed peaceful under the sharp blue sky. It looked perfectly intact from the front, but as they carefully circled it, keeping out of sight, they saw that the back had been completely demolished. A repair job had been attempted with a combination of boards and tough plastoid sheets.

There was one thing odd about the house, Obi-Wan noted. There was no back door. He pointed it out to Cerasi.

"Only one entrance to defend," she said, squinting up at the roof. "That way we can't surprise them."

"I don't want to surprise them," Obi-Wan said. "I have to give them the chance to surrender their arms. I can't go in shooting." He looked at the house, his hand drifting toward his belt. It was still a surprise to feel a vibroblade there instead of a lightsaber.

"We need a lookout on the street," Obi-Wan continued. "That's you."

For a moment, Cerasi seemed about to protest. Then she nodded. She held out her hand, palm out. Obi-Wan put his up against hers, as close as he could without touching. "Good luck."

"We don't need luck."

"Everybody needs luck."

"Not us."

Obi-Wan ducked around the corner, followed by his squad of six boys and girls, the best fighters the Young had.

He knocked on the door. He heard movement behind it, but nothing happened. He leaned closer to the door and shouted, "We are the Young Security Squad. You are ordered by the acting governor of Melida/Daan to open the door."

"Come back when your voice changes," someone shouted from inside.

Obi-Wan sighed. He had been hoping for cooperation. He nodded at Deila, their explosives expert. She quickly set explosive charges near the lock of the heavy door.

"Stand back from the door," she shouted to those inside.


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