Kenobi Chronicles

Episode 2 (part 2)

Daiyu was a rainy planet. Patterning it after the great capital city of Coruscant, the Daiyan architects had high hopes the planet would prove to be a bustling metropolitan outpost. But how wrong they turned out to be.

No sooner had Kenobi docked his ship, he spotted a death-stick dealer eyeing him from one of the entrances. Kenobi quickly pulled his hood over his face, sending a message out to all merchants—respectable and less so—that he was not interested in any merchandise they wanted to sell that night.

He had one mission that evening.

Organa had spoken of a contact. Supposedly this contact might help him in the search for Cad Bane, though Kenobi doubted how useful he could be. If Cad Bane did not want to be found, then he would not be. Especially on such a planet as Daiyu.

Kenobi watched the passers-by from under his hood, as the rain dripped in silver and neon droplets off the fabric's tip. The dark night was punctuated with brilliant signs advertising shelter or entertainment for the evening, as the streets themselves were crowded with the musty bodies of every species from across the galaxy.

"Care for a sweet night, dearie? You look tired." A dealer approached Kenobi. His eyes watched her closely. He held up his hand to refuse, but otherwise made no sound.

"Are you sure?" She asked, leaning in. She opened her jacket to display her merchandise that donned a familiar hue. "Take one of these, and you'll forget your pain ever existed—"

"I'm not interested." Kenobi said firmly. The dealer frowned and tilted her head.

"Suit yourself, traveler." She said and was about to turn away, when Kenobi spoke again.

"Is the—the 'Jedi' here?" He asked quietly, using the nickname Organa had told him to use. How ridiculous he felt using it. Did the fall of the Republic mean the fall of clever names as well?

But his opinion changed when the dealer froze in her steps—he could see her back bristle. A wave of panic came from her, but as she slowly turned around, her face smiled sweetly.

"No one's fool enough to say that." She said. "Not here."

"I need to find him."

The dealer was looking nervous now—her smile breaking. Her red eyes shot around the street even though no one paid them any heed. The crowds were passing by in a blur.

"Yes—you and every other bounty hunter." She whispered mockingly. "Here, take this, old man, and forget your little quest." She said placing something heavy in his pocket. "Times are hard enough. Let's not egg the Empire on."

"He needs to help me—" Kenobi's heart beat fast. For a fleeting moment, he began to wonder—was the nickname more than just a name? He made sure not to allow any of his desperation to leak into his voice, or show on his face. Twelve years in the desert among Jawas and the Sand People had taught him that much.

"What do you want with him?" The dealer's eyes narrowed. His heart lightened with hope.

"I need—passage—" Kenobi lied. The dealer looked at him suspiciously. He shifted from one foot to the next, and added, "For my daughter and I—" he searched her face imploringly. "—please—help us."

Her eyes squinted a moment, weighing the value of this traveler's life and his daughter's. She then looked around the city street, still crowds moved through, like beetles, searching for a place to stay that night, or for something to drown their woes in. Then her face hardened as she turned back to Kenobi.

"How much credits you got?"

"Enough—whatever he needs—or she—" Kenobi played the part of the desperate father quite well. There was something awakening in his chest that he hadn't felt since over a decade ago.