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By Root 499 0

than most of the other thoroughfares in the Crimson Corridor; plus, the local criminals had learned to give I-Five a wide berth thanks to his accuracy with the lasers he packed in each index finger. Den had sobered up by now; as he’d told the pubtender, it was indeed hard to get Sullustans drunk, and correspondingly easy for them to shed alcohol’s effects without a hangover. With sobriety had come the realization that he’d been a fool to go pub-crawling in a neighborhood like this at night. It was a good thing I-Five had come looking for him.

Still, Den felt he had the duty to try to make his friend see reason. “We’ve given this our best shot,” he said as they strolled past a seedy holobooth arcade, its flickering 3-D ads detailing the concupiscent wonders promised within. “But I think you’ve got to admit that we’ve exhausted all the avenues of inquiry. I think we’ve exhausted even the back alleys of inquiry by now. If Jax Pavan is alive and still on Coruscant, trying to find him is like looking for a needle in a sleestax.”

The droid did not reply. Den glanced at him. I-Five’s face was, of course, immovable and expressionless, being made of metal. But over the years the droid had developed ways to simulate facial expressions that were startlingly effective. By making subtle shifts in the angle and intensity of his photoreceptors, coupled with body language, I-Five was able to emulate human demeanor with amazing accuracy. It was the main reason why most people, including Den, thought of the droid as a him rather than an it.

In the course of doing his job—when he’d had a job—Den had, of course, become very familiar with the aspects of human facial expressions and body language. And he could tell that, right now, I-Five was looking smug.

“What?”

“I’ve found him.”

“Really.” Den’s tone was skeptical. They’d been down this space lane before as well—several times, in fact. “And where is he this time?”

“I realize that the false leads I’ve been given before have caused us some difficulty—”

“Interesting way to put it. Now, me, I’d call nearly having my arms ripped off by a spice-crazed Abyssin mudrunner or getting caught in the middle of a gang war between the Raptors and the Purple Zombies a milking disaster, but I suppose I might be overdramatizing.”

“You’re still alive and whole.”

“Physically, yes. My psyche, however, is but a shadow of its former self. I fear my sweet infectious laughter may never return.”

I-Five ignored him. “According to my source, Jax is in the Yaam Sector.”

“Well, that narrows it down to about eighty square kilometers. You know what they call that area downlevels, don’t you?”

“It’s better than searching the entire planet. And yes, I do. It’s known as the Blackpit Slums.”

“Right. And that’s a bad name. Bad names usually mean bad places, and bad places are not places we want to be.”

Before Den could continue, he nearly tripped over a Snivvian lying in the shadow of a recessed doorway, either unconscious or dead. At the same time, a nearby altercation between a Klatooinian and an Ishi Tib was quickly escalating into a fight. The two pulled vibro-blades and circled each other warily, looking for openings. Then, abruptly, both weapons glowed red, and the two combatants dropped them with cries of pain. They disappeared into the darkness in opposite directions.

Den glanced at I-Five and saw that the droid had both index fingers extended, his hands held close to his waist. The twin bursts of laserfire had gone unnoticed in the general kaleidoscopic flashings of various signs and images on storefronts, and the now useless weapons were lost in the general refuse and junk scattered everywhere.

“However bad they are,” I-Five said, “the Slums can’t be any worse than this.”

Den sighed. “Can’t argue with that. Just answer me one question—”

“Yes?”

“Why can’t any of these leads ever take us someplace nice?”

“Because we’re looking for outcast Jedi, not holoproj glitterati. Now, I’ve calculated the travel expense. We have just enough money left to buy us both one-way tickets to the Yaam Sector via speeder