The Chosen Apprentice - Chapter 23

The Star Wars wiki of fan invention.

“I need to find someone,” Anakin said, leaning against the bar casually and ignoring the drink he had ordered.

“Since when are you not?” came the answer.

Anakin was in a place called ‘The Seventh Star’; a tapcaf at the lower end of the Uscru District of Coruscant. Like many places of its kind all over the galaxy, the drinks and food were secondary to the main bill of fare: information. Anakin had been in quite a few of these places in his search for the Separatist leaders. Corellia, Tatooine, Nar Shaddaa, Ord Mantell…it didn’t matter, they were virtually all the same with the same sort of patrons seeking the same sort of services.

On Coruscant, ‘The Seventh Star’ was run by a Falleen female named Miarka. Known for using her pheromones for inducing unwitting customers to spend more than they had originally planned, she had first known Anakin when she discovered he could resist her chemical advances towards him.

Anakin hadn't wanted to give her any answers. After all, how could he compare anyone else to Padmé? And how could he even explain this to anyone else?

Consequentially Miarka had offered her services to him at cut rates—a rare thing for her—and she had been invaluable to him in the years since the Clone Wars.

“I didn’t think that there were any more of the kind of people you were searching for, Skywalker,” Miarka said pointedly. “Aren’t they all dead or put away in boxes?”

Anakin smiled. “Most of them.” He placed his palm on the beaten durasteel. “This isn’t that kind of thing though.”

“Oh?” Anakin could feel her pheromones rise with her polite surprise, but he didn’t let them affect him.

“That’s right,” he said. “I’m after a bounty hunter.”

Now she was really surprised. “Isn’t that a kinda strange thing for a Jedi like yourself to be looking for?”

“Say what you like,” Anakin averred, “but I’m looking for him, and you better not let him know if you see him.”

Miarka’s mouth formed a line. “How can I if you don’t tell me his name, fly boy?”

“Shinai Stel-Ardak,” Anakin told her. “Heard of him?”

Miarka thought for a moment. “Take a seat,” she said finally. “I’ll let you know when there’s someone in the call box.”

The ‘call-box’ she had referred to was the small room at the back used for the exchange of information. It was done in this way so as not to compromise either party. Anakin took a seat at a table away from the bar and ordered a drink from the droid waitress. When it came Anakin didn’t touch it, he had only ordered it so he wouldn’t be that conspicuous.

Eventually, Miarka called him back to the bar. “Someone wants to meet you,” she said, then escorted towards the back of the bar. She drew a grubby curtain back and Anakin went inside.

It was a very small room, barely large enough for the table and two stools it contained. The room smelled of stale smoke and spilled drinks, but Anakin didn’t notice it as he took the unoccupied stool. All he noticed was the room’s other occupant: Notluwiski Papanoida, a blue-skinned, blue-bearded Wroonian baron that had been an intelligence agent during the war. He had provided the Jedi with intelligence back then, and not all of it was accurate. This made Anakin wonder why Miarka had brought him here at all. How far could he trust what Papanoida told him?

Papanoida seemed to be as surprised to see Anakin as Anakin was to see him. “I had no idea when Miarka mentioned Shinai Stel-Ardak that it would be another Jedi who wanted to know about him.” He examined Anakin for a moment. “Don’t you people keep tabs on your members?”

“Yes,” Anakin replied rather stiffly. “But things like this can fall through the cracks, you know how it is.”

Papanoida shrugged. “There are more ways of faking your own death than you would ever know about.”

“Whatever,” Anakin said impatiently. “I need to get into contact with him, without him knowing about it.”

The Wroonian baron raised his eyebrows. “Could be difficult, and he won’t be that pleased when he realises the Jedi are looking for him.” He placed a hand on the table top, his blue palm exposed. “I’ll tell you, Skywalker, if you make it worth my while.” Anakin put a few credit ships in Papanoida’s hand and the Wroonian started talking again. “I have a comlink frequency here,” he said, taking out a datapad and showing Anakin several numbers to memorise. “And, if you like, I could find out a bit more about him. You’d be better off going to Avingnon yourself, though.”

“Can’t,” Anakin told him after he memorised the frequency. “There’s the trial, I have to stay on the Capital. That’s why I came here.”

Papanoida smiled. “Ah, faster and more intense,” he said with a nod. “Are you interested?”

“Of course, I am,” Anakin replied. “Is there anything more you can tell me right now?”

“Well, there’s the fact that he killed a Jedi during the war,” Papanoida said casually.

Anakin stared at him. “Why didn’t you ever tell anyone else?”

“There wasn’t a market for it,” Papanoida told him. “I don’t know the whole story other than it happened on Yag’Dhul just after the truce at Avingnon.”

“I’ll find out the rest myself,” Anakin said. “Anything else?”

Papanoida shook his head. “I’ll have Miarka contact you when I have more information.” He left the room without looking back.

---

In the small hours of the morning Obi-Wan’s comlink buzzed, and since he had replaced the powercell that afternoon there could be only one other reason it was sounding at this hour.

He found Anakin in the Archives at a terminal, compared to himself Anakin looked wide awake and alert.

“Don’t you ever get any sleep?” Obi-Wan complained as he sank into a chair beside Anakin.

“I don’t want sleep,” Anakin replied.

“And this couldn’t have waited for a better hour of the morning, or even the afternoon?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Stars and moons, Obi-Wan!” Anakin shouted. “It’s not that early!”

“So, what is this you have found that could not wait until later?” Obi-Wan asked.

In response, Anakin brought up an article about the late Adi Gallia. Reluctantly, Obi-Wan read the part that Anakin had indicated.

“I don’t see anything wrong,” he said at last, “it said she died when her ship was shot down over Yag’Dhul during the war.”

“It’s wrong,” Anakin told him, “she survived the crash.”

“And you know this how?” Obi-Wan asked sceptically.

“I asked the right people,” Anakin replied.

“I see.” Obi-Wan glanced at the article again. “So what did happen to her?”

“She was murdered,” Anakin replied.

“And let me guess,” Obi-Wan remarked dryly, “this was by Shinai Stel-Ardak.” He leaned back in his chair and glanced at Anakin behind half-closed eyes. “Wonderful,” he said, “just what I wanted to wake up in the middle of the night and come down here to find out.”

Anakin ignored this.

“So, have you found him yet?” Obi-Wan asked in a tired voice.

“I’m getting there,” Anakin said impatiently.

“Is there any use of me telling you to try and diversify your search?” Obi-Wan pressed.

Anakin glared at him. “I know I’m on the right track,” he defended, “the only problem—”

“Is that you still don’t have any proof,” Obi-Wan finished for him. “How many times do I have to tell you this, Anakin? You can’t bring this guy in unless you have proof that he is responsible, Stokra won’t settle for anything less.”

“The more I learn about this guy, Obi-Wan, the more I am convinced that Stokra is the one behind it all,” Anakin told him.

“What makes you say that?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Well,” admitted Anakin slowly, a mischievous light in his eyes, “I started to think about what you would do in my position, and about how you said it was all too convenient. The statement on the HoloNet, the appointment and me being there just after he left...” Anakin shook his head in amazement. “But I don’t have any proof of that and I’m not going to get any either.”

“So what are you going to do?” Obi-Wan demanded with a frown. Flattery never worked on him, least of all very early in the morning.

Anakin smiled. “I have a way to contact him,” he told his former Master, “and I have a plan.”

“Now why am I feeling worried?” Obi-Wan asked, giving his former apprentice a sceptical smile.