Since they were already in the Senate building, Qui-Gon decided that their next stop should be Senator Uta S'orn's office.
The outer room was empty, so Qui-Gon knocked on an inner door.
"Telissa?" The door was flung open. A Belascan female stood, one hand on her hip, wearing the trademark Belascan headdress of wrapped jeweled cloth, as well as an irritable expression. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were my assistant." Her glittering eyes swept them, and her expression changed. "Oh. Jedi. Excuse my rudeness."
"May we speak with you for a moment?" Qui-Gon asked.
"I am very busy… all right. Enter." Senator S'orn swiveled and walked back into her private office. She waved them to two chairs set in front of her desk.
Qui-Gon seated himself and began with preliminaries. "You are resigning next week, Senator S'orn."
She looked startled. "But how do you know this?"
"The information is out there," Qui-Gon said. "It is for sale. I do not know if anyone has bought it yet, but no doubt someone will. We cannot prevent that."
Senator S'orn dropped her head in her hands. "My data pad. It was stolen at the Senate commissary. My resignation announcement was on it.
Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon. Obviously, Fligh had lied about how he'd received the information.
She raised her head. "Disaster. I'm sponsoring legislation in two days. If this gets out beforehand, I'll have no support."
"Did you see anyone nearby who could have stolen it?" Qui-Gon asked.
She shook her head. "Just the usual Senate crowd." She laced her fingers together and bowed her head for a moment in thought. Then she raised her head and put both hands flat on the desk. "Decision. I must announce my resignation immediately. Then I can rally supporters to the legislation by saying they must help me with my legacy. I'll play on their sympathies." She drummed her fingers on the desk as she calculated her strategy. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere as she said absently, "Thank you for telling me."
Qui-Gon stood. "Thank you for your time."
She did not say good-bye or acknowledge them again. Her mind was already working to fix her problem. Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon out the door.
"Why didn't you ask her about Didi?" he asked Qui-Gon.
"Because it wouldn't have gotten me anywhere. If she put a death mark on Didi's head, she would hardly admit it," Qui-Gon said. "And I can't see how she could trace the theft of the data pad to Didi. Do you?"
"Only if she's lying," Obi-Wan said after a moment. "If she'd seen Fligh steal it, it would be easy to trace him to Didi. But why go after Didi, and not Fligh?"
Obi-Wan thought this over some more. He felt at a disadvantage. Qui-Gon seemed to have an insight into the hearts and minds of beings that he did not.
"Still, Senator S'orn's distress seemed sincere to me," he said slowly. "She was barely polite and not terribly nice, but not evil. Just busy."
"A typical Senator," Qui-Gon said with a half smile.
"She seemed surprised that the information was out," Obi-Wan said.
"Yes, she did," Qui-Gon mused. "Unless she is a very good actress. But she did seem sincerely upset."
"Why did Fligh tell us that an assistant got her announcement out of the trash?" Obi-Wan asked. "It's obviously not true."
"He didn't actually say that, Padawan," Qui-Gon said. "He just indicated that as one of many ways he could have gotten the information. No, Fligh stole the data pad. He would not want to admit that to us, however."
"This seems like a dead end to me," Obi-Wan said in conclusion. "Senator S'orn certainly doesn't look like a murderer."
Qui-Gon's blue eyes were keen. "Tell me, Padawan. What does a murderer look like?"
Chapter 6
The wide Senate doors at the south exit were crowded with beings hurrying inside and outside the building. They were all intent on getting somewhere fast, some of them barking into comlinks, others with harried, preoccupied looks on their faces.
"Now we need to find the Splendor Tavern," Obi-Wan said.
"I know where it is," Qui-Gon answered, striking off to his left down a small alley.
Obi-Wan lengthened his stride to match his Master's. "How do you know?" he asked curiously.
"Because I have had occasion to go there," Qui-Gon responded. "It's where connections are made for the black market. If one needs weapons or an illegally modified speeder, or wants to gamble, one goes to the Splendor.
Sometimes on a mission you need help from the worst sorts as well as the best."
Qui-Gon led him farther into a section he had never been in before, down many levels closer to the planet's surface. If Obi-Wan had been asked to describe Coruscant, he would have talked of a gleaming planet, all silver and white, with wide walkways and space lanes that flashed with agile crafts zooming toward their destinations. He barely knew the other Coruscant, below the levels of the Senate and the beautiful residences above. This one was made up of narrow alleys and cluttered streets, with dark shadows and furtive creatures who darted away when they saw the Jedi striding toward them. Games of chance were played on stoops and in outdoor cafйs. Weapons were placed on tables as warnings for cheaters.
Qui-Gon stopped in front of a metal building with a sagging roof. An old readout sign swung in front, occasionally banging against the rough metal walls with a screeching sound. Half of its letters had burned out, so it read: s P D O R. The windows were shuttered, and only a thin strip of light came through.
"Here we are," Qui-Gon said.
"Here?" Obi-Wan studied the building with a dubious eye. "It certainly doesn't live up to its name."
"Don't worry. It's worse than it looks."
Qui-Gon pushed open the door. Immediately they were met with a blast of noise. Music played from a recorder in the corner while a variety of customers drank, ate, and played games of chance at each table. A jubilee wheel whirled on the bar, and gamblers gathered around with fistfuls of credits, betting on the outcome. It stopped, and one crowed triumphantly while two others began to fight. A fourth turned away, desperation on his face.
Qui-Gon made his way to the lmbat bartender, whose head nearly bumped the ceiling, and whose long ears drooped to his shoulders. As the Jedi watched, his massive hand reached out and casually smacked a bar customer who was trying to get his attention by waving his arms. The customer fell back off his seat and crashed to the floor, a stunned look on his face. Someone stepped over him and took his place.