Part 10

Hell's Watering Hole couldn't have been more appropriately named. Qui-Gon knew the Outer Rim planets were often a haven for criminals, those who were on the run and who knew what else, but nothing prepared him for Hell's Watering Hole.

What Hell's Watering Hole truly was, Qui-Gon couldn't quite figure out. It could have been a very small moon, a giant space station, or maybe even some asteroid that had long ago been pulled into orbit around this distant sun. Either way, though, if ever there was a hive for scum and villains, this would be it.

He had gotten to the criminal safe haven two days after Si'Haad was supposed to arrive, ostensibly looking for him. Well, she was looking forPax Di'reh, played by Qui-Gon Jinn. Now three days into the charade and not one word for Si'Haad, Qui-Gon was beginning to wonder if he'd been double-crossed after all.

Qui-Gon's nerves were getting worn down to a frazzle from being constantly on his guard, without one let up. He hadn't truly gotten a good night's rest; he'd sunken into the Jedi technique of Alert-While-At-Rest, which meant his body got sleep but his mind was constantly alert for danger, attack, or intruders. It was starting to wear on his nerves, which seemed to be something that was going to be a general state of affairs on this mission. He just didn't think he'd be able to keep it up without going insane for much longer.

Qui-Gon had to admit it. He was worried about Si'Haad. He had not heard one word, seen not one hair or felt her presence since she'd disappeared from her asteroid hideaway in her usual peculiar fashion. Si'Haad was in her element here, he knew, but that didn't mean she had not gotten into some trouble that she could not get out of.

As per his usual routine, Qui-Gon went downstairs of the ramshackle public housing rooms. For the horrible conditions, the manager charged a few credits more than most normal public housing rooms charged on the paradise vacation planets. Total security was guaranteed though. If someone enter your rooms without authorized entry, the manager assured Qui-Gon when he first began renting, the burglar would be getting a nasty surprise. Honestly among thieves rules were enforced here, he was told.

Whatever that meant. It sounded like an oxymoron to Qui-Gon.

Downstairs, he checked at the desk for messages, which there were none, and then he headed outside to do his rounds at the local drinking establishments. Qui-Gon had quickly discovered his first time out to avoid the local drinks. If they weren't horribly watered down and overpriced, they were cheap in price and make. Either way, it was undrinkable to his way of thinking. So he stuck to pretending like he was sipping the nasty brews, always fighting to keep his calm at the hideous smells of unwashed bodies and natural odors of various races.

The first two places he went to he was greeted by the bartenders with an accepting nod. Rumors of who he was had already spread and he'd only introduced himself three times. Now he was widely known as the guy who had managed to not only walk out with one of Jabba the Hutt's prized objects, but he had surivived Jabba's rancor pit. Few people bothered him.

The third bar brought him the word he was looking for. "Hey, Pax!" The bartender, an average height human with more hair in his ears than on his head, leaned forward, giving Qui-Gon a whiff of his unwashed smell. Qui-Gon reared back a bit, but not enough to insult the bartender. "Someone was looking for ya."

"Who?" Qui-Gon momentarily tensed and then forced himself to relax.

"She said that you'd know who she was and that she had a score to settle. She wants the item back. Said to tell you that she'll meet with you." The bartender eyed Qui-Gon through watery grey eyes. "She was quite a looker, dressed to the nines, let me tell you. Could handle herself though. 'Bout killed Gahan over there." The bartender pointed to a hulking, long furred beast in the corner, who still seemed to be nursing a large wound. "Stabbed him neat as you please and then busted the arm she had stabbed. Stupid clod's too stubborn to see a doc, so I'll probably have to drag his gangrene carcass out later." The bartender sounded disgusted, but Qui-Gon thought it was less from the beast's stubbornness and more because the bartender would have to be put to the trouble of disposing of some corpse.

"Thanks. What do I owe you for the warning?" Qui-Gon reached in for some credits, supplied generously by Si'Haad when she learned that Jedi didn't have cash accounts waiting to be pilfered when there was a need.

The bartender eyed the credits. "A couple will work. Consider this cheap. She looked like a nasty character and with those types, one should always have warning, no matter how good you think you are. Keep a watchful eye out, eh? Hate to lose a steady customer. You actually pay your tab." The bartender belched loudly and with a hideous odor. Qui-Gon blocked it from his senses and nodded his thanks.

It seemed Si'Haad had finally found him. He went back to his rooms to wait.

Si'Haad met with her informant, the first time the informant had ever met her in person. "A woman!"

Si'Haad took the opportunity to show him that her gender meant little. The vibro-shiv lodged itself in his collar bone, slicing straight through the tough skin and thick bone. "You are observant. Let us see just how observant you are. I seek information on a new drug coming into the Republic. You will tell me all you know and then you will get me more information. My money is good. You know this."

The man swallowed. He was human, but he was small, almost a midget, but he was agile and a very skilled street thief. He'd been giving the thief Si'Haad information for a couple of years now. He knew the price if he gave her false information and the pay for good information was excellent.

"What do you need?" he managed to get out above a squeak as she jerked the knife out of his shoulder. As her arm muscles rippled at the slight exertion he made a mental note not to cross her on this deal.

"Information on the new drug, Siren's Song." He fainted. "Damn. There goes another one."

"Who's this?" Qui-Gon gestured to the informant lying face down on his rather musty bed. At least the bleeding had stopped.

"An informant. His reaction has been the same as all the others I've spoken with. I mention the drug and they faint dead away. It would be amusing if it wasn't so important. The more I think about this drug available where people like Jabba can exploit it, the more angry I become." Qui-Gon ignored the pacing thief and slipped into the Force. With a jolt, and a subconscious nudge from Qui-Gon, the informant jolted awake.

"Where am I?" he said fearfully.

"Do not fret, my little street thief, you are still among confederates." Si'Haad seemed amused. Qui-Gon was not.

"We want you to tell us all you know about Siren's Song," he said.

The informant swayed, wide-eyed and whey-faced. "Do not faint again, or I will just slit your throat and be done with it!" demanded Si'Haad. Qui-Gon sensed the tension in her. "Speak. Now!"

The small human, whom Qui-Gon judged to be no older than either he or Si'Haad were, paled a shade whiter but remained conscious. "I don't know anything," he whined. "Honest!"

"You lie to me?" Si'Haad was incredulous. "How would like my vibro-shiv sticking out of the other shoulder?" The informant cringed as far into the bed as he could get, but he didn't succeed in disappearing.

"Why are you so afraid?" Qui-Gon asked in a more gentler, but still firm tone. Si'Haad spared him no glance but he could feel her anger.

The human looked at Qui-Gon and shook his head. "Either way, I'm dead, and Si'Haad won't make me suffer as much as the others will. And she'll leave body parts in the general vicinity to be found. They won't."

"They?" Si'Haad's tone was still sharp, but less angered.

"Yes, they. If you think hard enough, Si'Haad, you'll know of whom I speak. Beyond that, I ain't sayin' nothing, so just kill me and get it over with. You're going to need that spare time." The man seemed to deflate, his body going limp like a rag doll.

"I'm not going to kill you. Bodies, even in Hell's Watering Hole, asks questions we can't afford right now." The white eyeslits in her mask/cowl narrowed at him as she considered. "I can't have you scurrying off to warn anyone of what we're looking for so you're going away for a while, my friend. You'll be safe, I promise, unless I feel the need to take my anger out on someone."

The man seemed resigned to his fate as Si'Haad bundled him off. Qui-Gon figured he would be under the custodial care of Shinoba. When she returned in her imitable fashion of suddenly being there, Qui-Gon had several questions to throw her way.

"Who's they?"

Si'Haad tilted her head to one side thoughtfully at his first question. "More trouble than even I can handle. I've never crossed them, and for good reason. You do not come out alive if you do."

"But who is it? Some syndicate or guild? We have to find a way, Si'Haad." Qui-Gon stopped talking when she shot him a look. "What did I say?"

She hesitated as if she was going to speak, but then changed her mind. "This is more than I thought it was going to be, my friend. I should send you back and handle this myself. I can watch my back easily enough, but adding yours to my burden will make it doubly hard."

"I can handle myself, Si'Haad," Qui-Gon said between clenched teeth. "I'm not helpless. For the Force's sake, I am a Jedi. I know how to defend..."

"SILENCE!" Qui-Gon stopped his tirade abruptly. "You fool!" she hissed at him angrily. "Why don't you just post it on the boards on the street corner what you are! All walls have ears here in Hell's Watering Hole. You compromise everything with your stupid pride!"

He stood up. "You include me or I turn you in."

"You have to be alive to do it, Jedi." Qui-Gon whirled at the voice, his senses screaming a warning too late. He furtively glanced where Si'Haad stood and was relieved to note that she had vanished with her invisibility device. Qui-Gon turned his attention back to the intruders. "I'm afraid you must come with us."

"I go nowhere," Qui-Gon said steadily, his hand reaching behind him and resting lightly on the lightsaber handle clipped behind his back.

"Don't be a fool," Si'Haad's ultrasoft voice hissed at him in his left ear. "Go with them and I shall follow at a distance. This may be the break we need."

"Jedi, you either come alive or you come as a corpse. It matters little to me. You would be a lot less trouble, and pay, dead, however." The two bounty hunters eyed the Jedi knight warily, waiting for his move. They had heard of a Jedi's skill with his weapon, but he had his saber inconveniently concealed and they were confident that they could fell him before he drew it.

"Very well,"Qui-Gon acquiesed grudgingly. "I'll go quietly."

"Good." The other bounty hunter grabbed Qui-Gon's arms and bound them in restraints, which, as Qui-Gon discovered, tightened the more he moved his hands. He ceased fidgeting. "Walk."

Qui-Gon walked reluctantly, berating himself for losing everything when they were halfway there.

Si'Haad followed at a discreet distance, but still stayed close enough that she heard every word exchanged and she would not be left outside a room if they ever entered one. Her speed and agility were going to be invaluable. She also noted her surroundings as they traveled, wary of traps. She had no illusions that she was totally invisible. Someone may be able to detect her sometime and she had to be ready.

The female thief pitied her Jedi companion. He was angry at the predicament he'd been placed in. His verbal plunder though seemed to have had no direct impact on his capture by bounty hunters. They had known of his identity before Qui-Gon's angry tirade. She was thankful that she had caught the sound of them before they had glimpsed her. A quick reflexive flip of the switch and she was just no longer there.

The bounty hunters took the long winding path, but Si'Haad soon recognized the neighborhood. She had hoped that she was mistaken but when the gates opened in front of the imposing building, her fears were confirmed.

Si'Haad had no wish to go against the greatest crime syndicate in the Republic, second only to the Black Sun.

Damn. She hated it when she was right sometimes.

The Cèad.

NOTE: Cèad is Irish/Celtic for the number one hundred. I couldn’t find a word that was easily translatable to what I really wanted (without being fifty words long anyway) and this one had easier characters. *grin*