Switching to the driver's seat, Master Plo raised the speeder a little higher and watched to see what his apprentice would do and what the mercenary was planning. He understood that Asoka, despite all her talents, was still inexperienced and could miss a lot and not always correctly guess her opponent's motives. And although he was a little angry with his former student for her disobedience, that did not mean he should leave her without help, so Plow followed after her. The Master saw that the cunning criminal had distracted Asoka and disappeared into a bar. Togruta ran after her and, of course, did not catch up. She had no chance from the start, because the mercenary had played ahead and gained a decent lead. Plow immediately figured out what to do. Experience told him the right way to go, and after parking his speeder near the back entrance, the man entered the bar through it and, as if thinking of nothing and looking at no one, approached the bar counter. Firstly, everyone there would go there at least once, and secondly, it was the first place a newcomer would look. In this situation, there were two people, especially the female mercenary, because Asoku wasn't here for the drinks. In order not to attract unnecessary attention, Plow joined the end of the queue and, still pretending to be a regular customer, unobtrusively observed the others and scanned the situation, picking up the necessary energy flows in the Force. Suddenly, a skinny kid in dirty clothes jumped out in front of him and, opening the front of his jacket, revealed to the Master some thin and thick elongated objects resembling cigars.
"Would you like to buy some dope?" the teenager asked in the friendliest tone possible. "I've got the best stuff around!"
Plo did not answer him, and when he fell silent, he looked closely at his young but already battered face, then slowly ran his hand in front of him and said calmly, even slightly sing-song:
"Listen to me carefully and repeat after me: I don't want to sell drugs, I want to go home and think about the meaning of life.
The young man froze for a second and, as if against his will, opened his mouth and obediently repeated after the Master:
"I don't want to sell drugs, I want to go home and think about the meaning of life.
Then he turned and actually headed for the exit, perhaps really going home, if he had a place to call home, of course.
"A glass of ruby bliehl," he said to the bartender, a skinny guy with huge black eyes.
"Do you also like the drink of my childhood?" came a cheerful voice from behind him, followed by an impressive slap on the back. Turning around, the Master already knew who he would see. It seemed that Asoka had already forgotten how much trouble she had caused her teacher and didn't seem at all concerned that she had let the criminal get away. Togruta stood there smiling at him as if nothing had happened and didn't even notice at first that her former teacher looked unusually gloomy and seemed to be waiting for some kind of explanation.
"Let her get away?" Plow asked without a hint of a smile. Ahsoka knew it even with the mask on.
"Alas," she admitted defeat reluctantly, "she blended into the crowd and I couldn't do anything.
"Here, don't lose it again," said Plo calmly, but still with a hint of resentment in his voice, and handed his former student the sword she had forgotten in her speeder.
"Are you still angry?" asked Ahsoka, attaching it to her belt and looking around. "Don't be, really, I love you, you're like a second father to me."
Of course, she was exaggerating about her father. Ahsoka had, has, and will always have only one father, and no one could ever replace him, but in order to successfully complete the operation, she had to make peace with her teacher. And she knew what he liked to hear.
"Then why don't you listen to me?" asked Plo, no longer so angry, but still with a hint of resentment. However, he did not get an answer, or rather, Asoka simply did not let him speak, waving her hand desperately somewhere behind his back. Plou turned around and noticed that the very criminal they had come here for was standing calmly nearby, talking to the bartender. Asoka started to move towards her, but Plou stopped his former student with a single gesture.
"Stay here, you've done enough fighting for today," he said rather sternly, and seeing that Asoka was about to pout, he handed her his unfinished drink. "Here, take it, you love it!"
Ahsoka took the glass and, unable to hide her resentment, snatched it from Plo's hand, spilling half of it on the dress of a Twi-le who was spinning nearby. Her quick reaction and ability to disappear without a trace saved her from further trouble. And "without a trace" did not necessarily mean her teacher's broad back. He worried about her safety for nothing; the column in the hall would have served just as well. At least Asoka could see perfectly well how Plo approached the girl and began to speak to her slowly. The girl obviously didn't like it and tried to move towards the exit, but here you had to know Plow, his reactions had never failed him. Grabbing the criminal by the shoulder, he said something important to her again, only this time his tone was different and it clearly had a better effect on the girl than the first time. The mercenary tried to break free, but then realised that it would be much better to agree to cooperate, and obediently followed Jedi to the exit. Passing by the column, he waved to Asoka with his free hand, inviting her to join them. She immediately forgot her resentment and jumped out from behind the column, as something clearly interesting was about to happen.
"And no nonsense," said the Master, not referring to any of the girls in particular, but each of them took it personally. Plo led the criminal out of the bar and into one of the many doorways that were so common in the Lower Level. There, feeling relatively safe, the criminal agreed to confess her crimes.
"Tell us, why did you try to kill Duchess Satin?" asked Plow, still calm. The girl paused and shook her head, as if looking for someone and obviously not seeing them, then decided:
"It wasn't me... I was hired," she said in a weak and uncertain voice, clearly still afraid.
"Who was it?" asked the Master.
"I don't know... I didn't see," she replied, looking away, clearly not telling the truth.
"You're lying!" Asoka couldn't hold back and stepped forward. "You saw everything and you know everything! You're just leading us on, hoping we'll believe you and let you go so you can continue tormenting everyone!"
And to prove that these were not empty words, Asoka activated both of her swords at once and crossed them like scissors, placing them so that the girl's neck was between the two glowing blades. One careless movement of her head and she would roll across the spit-covered asphalt. Plow clearly didn't expect anything like this, but before he could say anything, the girl spoke first:
"I'll tell you, I promise, I'll tell you the truth, he hired me...
Both Jedi held their breath, waiting to hear the name of the criminal, but instead they heard a soft whistle in the air near them, made by something like a bullet flying past them. When it reached the mercenary, she jerked her neck strangely and tried to breathe with a rasping sound, but nothing came out, and after a series of such ragged half-breaths, her face turned grey and began to lose its human form. It was immediately clear that they were not dealing with a human being, but a shape-shifting werewolf capable of taking on the appearance of any creature at will. A dead werewolf. Twitching one last time, the criminal slid lifelessly down the wall, her eyes bulging out of their sockets and her mouth twisted into a terrible grimace, as if mocking the two Jedi who had lost hope of ever learning the truth. Or was it? An unexpected idea occurred to both of them. Asoka decided to follow the thing that had flown in, while Plo wanted to see what it was and, touching the dead chameleon's neck, pull out a small triangular object with a sharp needle at its narrowest point. On the wide side, there was the same symbol that the Master had already seen on the killer droid. Putting the dart in his pocket, the Kel Dor rushed after Asoka. She had already spotted a strange figure in silver armour taking off on jet boots in the direction the dart had flown. It seemed that this was the unknown killer. But it was impossible to find out who it was, as he was picked up by someone's speeder, inconspicuous and rather old, but driven confidently, if not recklessly. And lo and behold, the same symbol as on the dart was depicted on its side. However, it was not possible to find out more that day, or rather that evening, as the criminal broke away from the chase and disappeared into the depths of the neighbourhood. All that remained at the heroes' disposal was the dart and this mysterious symbol. With this, they had to return to the temple, and with an unpleasant conversation to boot.
"Asoka, a little more and I'll regret letting you become a Knight," Plo said seriously as they flew back.
"I acted out of necessity," the Togrut replied calmly, but without really listening to what he was saying, she thought about how much she had changed in the last few days. Since the day her father died. Thinking about it, the girl touched the burn mark with her hand. It had almost healed and only stung a little when touched. She hadn't shown it to anyone, thinking it would be better if this memory remained only with her. It was enough for the others to see how Asoka's soul was gradually changing. The girl was gradually ceasing to be the carefree and spontaneous child she had once been. A hardness was beginning to appear in her, if not more, and a peculiar sense of order and a desire to achieve justice. Even if, in the eyes of her elders, the means were not entirely correct. Here, Tano began to recall the events of the last few days, which she had pushed away until now, as the wounds they had left were still too fresh. Her father, brutally beaten and tortured, dying in her arms. The rage that flooded her soul like molten lead. The murder in the village headman's house. Bloody revenge, which the Togruta did not think about at all, whether she was doing the right thing, killing people who did not expect it and did not attack her at that moment and did not even resist her. And if the death of the village head was at least partly justified, then his wife and daughter died completely innocently, only because they were nearby. And now, once again, an act of brutal violence was almost repeated when Asoka threatened the mercenary, nearly cutting off her head. And she would have done so if she had continued to remain silent. What was happening? Was this how the Jedi behaved? Hardly. Such behaviour was more characteristic of a completely different Order, which could not even be called such anymore. After all, there could only be two of them. A teacher and a student.
"No!" Asoka thought in horror and even waved her hands. "I'm not a Sith! And I never will be! Never!"
The girl remembered all too well what old Ben had told her about the Sith. She remembered that on her last visit to Tatooine, she hadn't visited Ben, even though she had intended to. He would have been happy to see her. After all, he loved Asoka so much. That was the last straw, and the tension that had been building up inside her for the last few days suddenly burst out, turning from air into liquid and shooting out of her eyes in two powerful hot streams, running down her tunic and accompanied by loud sobs. The Master, of course, heard all this and was a little frightened by Asoka's violent reaction to his rather mild rebuke, and was already ashamed of his lack of restraint.
"Asoka, come on, don't be like that, don't be upset," he said in a very gentle tone, putting his free arm around the Togrut and pressing her tear-stained face to his shoulder.
"I'm a bad Jedi," she said between sobs. "Not the kind I'm supposed to be!"
"Calm down, please, don't be so upset over one failure," Plo said, convinced that the girl was crying because of his reproaches. "I'm not angry with you, really, believe me. You did what the Force told you to do and carried out its command, and isn't that one of the main purposes of a Jedi — to be where you are told and to listen to the will of the Force?
Seeing her tears and feeling their warm wetness on his robe, Poe felt increasingly ashamed. The girl had been through so much lately, she hadn't even recovered from her father's death, and he had lashed out at her. She had broken the rules, you see. Show me one member of the Order who has never done that. And remembering his own exploits, the Master finally gave up on his claims against his student; she didn't need them now.
"And rest assured, you are doing everything right, and our work today has been a success. Tomorrow we will find out what this symbol is and find its owner, and therefore the person who ordered it," he continued, not letting Asoka go. "You are a very good specialist. Sometimes even I cannot do such things, showing such enviable determination in the fight for justice, which sometimes comes at a very high price. Not everyone is willing to pay it.
Asoka listened and gradually calmed down too. The Master's words convinced her, and her tears gradually dried up, leaving behind a confidence in her own righteousness. Ah, if only he knew why she was really crying. Then Plo would have said something completely different, and if Ahsoka had told him everything honestly, the whole story of her life would have ended very differently. But, alas, the ways of the Force are inscrutable.
***
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