"And when you do that, what next?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I will have all the power I need at last," she said. "Then friends I have left behind will understand that if sacrifices were made… I… made them for a good reason."

Qui-Gon noticed the slight hesitancy. "Do you mean Uta S'orn?"

"She is my friend. She has stood by me. Supported my work in the Senate. I was grateful, of course." Jenna Zan Arbor looked uncertain for the first time. "But one cannot let gratitude interfere with science."

"So when you discovered that her son was Force-sensitive, you saw a way to further your research," Qui-Gon guessed.

"He said yes right away!" Jenna Zan Arbor cried. "He would do anything for money. He did not realize the commitment he had to make. He was a scientific subject. Surely he should have known there were risks involved…"

"But he did not expect to die," Qui-Gon said.

"I did not expect it either," she said quickly. "But what kind of life did he lose? A life of despair. Uta grieved for her son every minute of her life while he was alive. It is no different now."

"So you believe she will understand," Qui-Gon said.

Behind Zan Arbor's coolness, he sensed unrest. "She must. It is logical."

"It will be an interesting conversation, I'm sure," Qui-Gon said neutrally.

"It is time for you to use the Force," she said suddenly, as if she regretted her words. "And this time, I want to see something more than your moving an object a few inches."

Qui-Gon summoned the Force. He closed his eyes and felt it around him, felt it connect him to the living beings here and the world outside — wherever he was. He gathered it inside his body to help it heal…

And he felt an answering call.

Someone else was here. Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon concentrated, drawing the Force around him.

No, not Obi-Wan. Someone else. She was holding someone else here, someone who was Force-sensitive. And whoever it was, he or she was very weak.

He heard beeping and opened his eyes. Zan Arbor sat at the console, leaning forward to study a monitor.

"Excellent," she breathed.

He let the Force slip away. She turned and scowled.

"I am tired," he said.

"Then you won't mind returning to your chamber to rest," she taunted.

Yes, he minded. But not as much as he had before. Someone else was here. Next time she let him out, he would be ready to fight.

Before Obi-Wan could speak or move, Astri stepped forward. "Why do you want his light-saber?" she asked the boy.

He thrust out his chin. "What difference does it make?"

"What if you want it so you can use it against us?" Astri challenged.

"Why should we hand it over then?"

"I don't want to kill you!" the boy protested.

Astri studied him. "But you do want to find food for your family and your tribe. And you think if you had this weapon you could defeat the tribe on the other side of the mountain."

The boy stared greedily at the lightsaber. "I have seen what it can do."

"There are two problems with your plan," Astri said calmly. "The first is that you have to train for years in order to use a lightsaber.

Isn't that right, Obi-Wan?"

He nodded. "Even then, you have more to learn."

"So you wouldn't get anywhere," Astri concluded. "Except maybe you'd cut off your own foot. The second thing wrong with your plan is that it won't solve your problem. Maybe if you fought this tribe and won — which is highly unlikely, by the way — you'd get enough food for a week, or a month.

But you'd still be starving when the food ran out. You'd have to fight again. And this time the other tribe would be prepared to meet the attack."

The boy stared at her sullenly. "So what? I would still have the lightsaber. I would fight them."

"Still, we aren't about to hand over such a powerful weapon so easily," Astri said. "We'll make you a deal."

Obi-Wan shot her a look. We? He hadn't said a word.

Astri ignored him. "If you tell us what you know, I'll cook you and your family a delicious meal. I'll show you where to find food and how to prepare it so you won't ever have to go hungry.

The boy laughed. "You'll show me how to be a cook?"

"I'll show you how to feed your tribe," Astri corrected. "Not for a week, or a month, but always. And if I can't do it, you get my friend's lightsaber."

Obi-Wan shot Astri a look. He hadn't agreed to this. She put a finger to her lips.

The boy looked out over the vast landscape of sand. Not a living, growing thing could be seen. Slowly, he smiled.

"It's a deal."

"Okay," Astri agreed. "Run and get a pack to put food in and we'll begin."

The boy's name was Bhu Cranna. He followed behind them as Astri and Obi-Wan trudged through the sand.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Obi-Wan murmured.

"You stick to lightsabers. I'll stick to food." Astri moved to the shadow of the canyon wall. Where sand met rock, she dug down into the crack. She came up with a small purple mold.

"Looks delicious," Obi-Wan said doubtfully.

Grinning, she handed it to Bhu. "You'll see."

For the next hour, Obi-Wan and Bhu trailed behind Astri, following her instructions as they scraped mold off the bottom of rocks and dug deep underneath the sand to find roots. Astri cut off strips of flesh from a spiny plant and then captured the juice that flowed from its heart. They crawled on their hands and knees through a cave to find mushrooms growing in the cracks of rocks.

Obi-Wan fretted about the delay, but something told him that information about Reesa On was crucial to finding Qui-Gon. He only hoped that Astri's plan would work.

"When I took over the cooking at the cafc, I had a plan," Astri explained as she pulled the spines out from the fleshy plant she'd sliced into pieces. "Every week I would feature dishes from one world in the galaxy. Luckily, Sorrus was one of those worlds. I chose it because it's so large and so many Sorrusians travel through the galaxy."

"If this is their own food, why doesn't the tribe know how to find this?" Obi-Wan asked, indicating the plants and mushrooms they had gathered.