We're having a kind of reunion. Most of them know Omega, too. Or they've met him, at least. Maybe if we put our heads together, we could come up with a lead for you. There's a chance we could know things you don't know."
"That wouldn't be hard," Anakin said ruefully. "We don't know much."
"I'll talk to them and see if I can come up with anything," Tic said.
"They would be happy to help the Jedi, I am sure."
Anakin agreed enthusiastically. He said good-bye to Tic and hurried toward the Temple. He wouldn't contact Obi-Wan about this, he decided. Not yet. First he would compile information.
Wouldn't it be amazing if he were to be the one to find Granta Omega?
Chapter Ten
The rest of the year was numbingly cold and bleak. The buildings were built with thick blocks of stone designed to keep out the cold wind.
Nierport Seven was one of seven moons in a small system that was notable only because it was a convenient refueling stop on the way to Coruscant. Most of the intragalactic travelers chose to refuel on the planet Eeropha, which at least had several small cities. But Nierport Seven was able to support a refueling stop of its own and a few small guesthouses, all serving the kind of pilots who could not afford to scrounge up even the low prices Eeropha charged.
At least the moon was small, Obi-Wan told himself. The population was clustered around the refueling station. It did not take him long to locate several people who had known Granta Omega.
That was the good news. The bad news was that no one knew very much about him.
There was only one cafc on Nierport Seven, and it was next to the refueling station. The cafc was called Food and Drink, and the owner turned out to be as cut and dry as the title of his establishment.
"Never knew him personally. Heard of him. He left." That was all the owner had to say.
"Is there anyone else who would know him?" Obi-Wan asked. "Anybody who still lives here? He left seven years ago."
"Most folks leave in three years," the owner said. "Can't take any more."
Obi-Wan waited. He had learned this from Qui-Gon. Most beings would come up with additional information if you just stayed quiet.
"Might try that trio in the corner," the owner said gruffly. "They've stuck around. They were born here and they'll die here."
The three natives of Nierport sat around the table. They were wearing grease-stained clothes that told Obi-Wan they had just finished a shift at the refueling station.
Obi-Wan nodded a hello. They looked at him warily. "Jedi?" one of them said. "Never seen your kind here."
Obi-Wan eyed their empty glasses. "Anyone for a refill?"
Their empty glasses were pushed away and they looked at him hopefully.
Obi-Wan signaled for another round. "And I'll have the same," he told the bartender.
The drinks arrived. They clinked the smeared glasses.
Obi-Wan peered at the red liquid. "What is this?"
"Claing juice," one of the men said. "It's native to the system. We extract the juice from the thorns of the native bush."
Obi-Wan took a small sip. The juice seared his lips and tongue and then burned like blazing fire going down. He managed not to cough, but his eyes streamed tears.
The three men laughed uproariously.
"Claing can even bring a Jedi to his knees," one of them chortled.
"I'll say," Obi-Wan choked out.
His streaming eyes and burning throat were worth it. He had passed a test. The trio decided to befriend him. He asked about Granta Omega, and they nodded.
"He was a boy when he left," one said. "Went to study somewhere, I think. His mother Tura died two years later. He never came back to see her.
" "Not even for the funeral," someone else said. "What about his father?
" Obi-Wan asked.
"Never knew him," the first man said. "Tura Omega showed up one day, got a job at the refueling station, had this three-year-old boy. Nobody
asks questions on Nierport Seven."
"Except for Jedi," another one said, and this caused them great amusement.
"I could show you his house," the first man offered. He licked his lips. "I could use another claing, though." "I'll buy you one afterward,"
Obi-Wan said.
They walked out into the numbing cold. The ground was brittle with frost. They walked through the main street and then turned down a smaller road. It wasn't far to the outskirts of the settlement. The man pointed to a small house. It looked no different from the others. It was built with rounded walls and seemed to hunch against the wind.
"That there is his house. A space pilot owns it now. Uses it on stopovers. Lots of pilots do that here. It's cheap and convenient."
Obi-Wan peered into the window. The house was empty except for a stove and a bedroll. The room was small and low-ceilinged. Even with furniture it would look bleak. There was nothing to see here. There was nothing to learn. It was typical of his search for Granta Omega.
"You said his mother worked at the refueling station?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Did she have a good job?"
The man laughed. "If you call hauling lubricant hoses around all day for no money a good job."