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“About time,” the Fondorian said. He stood quickly. “Let’s get out of here before it gets dark—not that it ever really stops getting dark around here.” He moved toward the room’s entrance, then stopped and looked back at Darsha. “Well, come on,” he said testily. “What’re you waiting for?”

“I’m just trying to decide how best to get back to my skyhopper,” Darsha replied. “I don’t relish the idea of wading through those poor beings out there again.”

“We’ll be the ‘poor beings’ if we don’t get moving. This is Raptor territory. They make those scum out there look like the Republic Senate. Now let’s go!”

Darsha moved toward the hallway; Oolth stood aside to let her pass. “I’m the one who needs protecting; you go first.”

Whatever good he was to the council, Darsha was sure Oolth the Fondorian wasn’t valued for his bravery. She pushed past him and strode back to the outside door.

The cam’s monitor was mounted by the door; it showed a few street people still loitering around the area. Most of them, however, had apparently gone looking for someone else to importune. If Darsha and Oolth moved quickly, they could probably get back to the intersection where her vehicle was without too much trouble.

“All right,” Darsha said. She took a deep breath and reached for the Force to calm herself. She was a Jedi Padawan with a job to do. Time to get on with it. “Let’s move out.”

The door panel slid open. Darsha quested with the Force and felt no sense of anybody nearby who posed a danger. Thus reassured, she started down the street with Oolth. The vagrants seemed to materialize from out of the shadows, clustering around them again. Oolth shoved at them as they crowded in. “Get away from me! Filthy creatures!”

“Just keep moving,” Darsha said to him. She had refused the droid’s offer of escort because she didn’t want to draw any more attention than absolutely necessary. If she had to, she could activate her lightsaber; she had no doubt that just the sight of the energy blade would send the majority of the street people fleeing. But she hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. They were almost to the intersection.

And then her heart, already pounding from nervous tension, suddenly tried to batter its way up her throat.

Her skyhopper was still where she had parked it, hovering twenty meters up in the air. Clustered on the street beneath it was a heterogeneous assortment of beings, about a dozen in all. Among the species Darsha recognized were humans, Kubaz, H’nemthe, Gotals, Snivvians, Trandoshans, and Bith. All of them appeared to be in the late adolescent stage of their particular species, all were dressed in colorful and motley styles, and all looked extremely dangerous.

Oolth the Fondorian gasped, and whispered in a strangled tone, “The Raptors.”

Darsha had heard tales of the street gangs that terrorized many of the more run-down sectors of Coruscant’s surface. The Raptors were reputed to be the worst, by far. She had hoped to complete her mission quickly enough to avoid an encounter with them. So much for that idea.

Several grappling hooks had snagged into the two-person craft, and from them dangled ropes. Three members of the gang—a human female and two male Bith—had climbed aboard and were busily ransacking the vehicle. They tossed down various items—a holoprojector, an aquata breather, a pouch of food capsules, and medical supplies—to the gang members below. Even as Darsha watched, one of them managed to disable the autopilot, causing the craft to settle gently to the street. This was greeted by a cheer from the rest of the gang.

Oolth grabbed her robe and tried to pull her into the shadows of the narrow street. “Quick—before they see us!”

She shook off his grasp. “I can’t let them strip the skyhopper. It’s our only way out of here. Wait here until I’ve dealt with them.” Then, forcing herself to project a confidence she did not in any way feel, Darsha strode toward the Raptors.

She hadn’t taken more than a few steps before her approach was noted. The raucous chatter and laughter quickly subsided; no doubt, Darsha thought, because