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"What are they?" Qui-Gon asked impatiently.
Didi held up one fat finger. "First, Senator Uta S'orn from the planet Belasco is resigning." He held up a second. "And the Tech Raiders are moving their headquarters to Vandor-3."
Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon. "Tech Raiders?"
"Black market traders in space vessels and weapons," Qui-Gon explained.
"But why would the gang care if I knew their new location?" Didi asked. "They know I wouldn't sell it to the security forces. I myself have used the gang to find parts for my pocket cruiser." At Qui-Gon's raised eyebrow, he quickly added, "Well, they are cheaper! It's not illegal. Technically."
"Even if the parts are stolen?" Qui-Gon asked.
"I don't know if they're stolen!" Didi insisted. "Why should I ask? I know / didn't steal them."
"What about Senator S'orn?" Qui-Gon asked.
Didi shrugged. "She's not on any important committees or pla
"We don't know that for sure," Qui-Gon said thoughtfully. "We'll have to investigate both items."
Why us? Obi-Wan thought. They had done one favor for Didi. Did Qui-Gon mean to involve them further?
The door opened and a slender female rushed into the room. She wore a utility cap that was tugged low over her forehead. Curly dark hair poked out of it, waving around her ears and neck. She wore a floor-length apron that was snowy white except for one brilliant splotch of red. As she walked, she left floury footprints. She held a pan full of soup that was the obvious source of the apron stain.
She thrust a spoon at Obi-Wan. "Taste this, will you?"
Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon, mindful of his directive not to eat the food.
"Don't be shy. Here." She pushed the spoon toward him.
Obi-Wan had no choice. Tentatively, he spooned up the soup and swallowed. A smooth, tangy liquid slid down his throat.
"It's good," he said, surprised.
"Really?" Didi and the young woman said together, also surprised.
"Really," Obi-Wan told her.
She turned and saw Qui-Gon. "Qui-Gon! Didi said you were here. How good it is to see you." She placed the pot on the desk, spilling a little over the top. She took the edge of her apron and wiped the spill, knocking a shower of durasheets onto the floor. "Oops."
Didi shot Qui-Gon a warning look that she did not catch.
"Just a friendly visit," Qui-Gon answered. "You're right, Astri. It's been too long since I visited your father."
"Have you seen the improvements?" Astri asked. "I painted everything myself. It was hard to persuade my father to spruce up the place."
"I don't want to scare the regular customers away," Didi said.
"If only we could," Astri groaned.
"I don't know what was wrong with my cooking," Didi went on. "Nobody ever complained."
"Sure," Astri said cheerfully. "They were too busy being sick. Meanwhile, I've decided we must spend money on new napkins, and cloths for the tables —"
"Who needs a cloth? It just gets dirty!"
Astri turned to Qui-Gon and spread her hands. "Do you see my problem? I want to make the place better, and all he does is complain. He welcomes back the dregs of the galaxy. He promised to give up buying and selling information, but he can't resist feeding them. How can I attract a better class of customer when the place is full of gangsters?"
"Everyone likes to eat with gangsters," Didi observed. "It adds spice to the food."
"I'll add the spice, thank you very much," Astri said crisply. "I've landed a big client, Father. This could be our big break. There's a medical conference coming to the Senate, and scientists are arriving from all over the galaxy. Guess who booked the cafй for a small di
"The Chancellor?" Didi guessed.
"Not yet," Astri said with a grin. "Je
Obi-Wan had heard of Je
"Who?" Didi asked.
"Je
"Did you say elegant?" Didi asked. "Now that sounds expensive."
"Just… don't… ruin it," Astri said through her teeth. Then she picked up the soup and left the room, curls bouncing, apron swinging, and soup dribbling onto the floor.
"Isn't she marvelous?" Didi sighed. "But she is driving me into bankruptcy."
"You promised her not to buy and sell information anymore," Qui-Gon said.
"Well, I suppose I did, yes. But can I help it if this one or that one whispers something to me in exchange for a few credits or a meal?"
"Maybe Didi should go away for awhile," Obi-Wan suggested. "Some other planet where the bounty hunter won't find him."
"Now that's an idea!" Didi said cheerfully. "Ru
"Of course not," Qui-Gon agreed.
"She will spend all my money," Didi said. Qui-Gon sighed. "I don't think you should run away, Didi. The bounty hunter is undoubtedly an expert tracker. And it is better that we face the problem here and now. Obi-Wan and I will do some investigating for you."
"But we're due back at the Temple!" Obi-Wan protested. "Tahl said Yoda was expecting us."
"We can spare a few hours," Qui-Gon said. "I'll contact Yoda on the way and tell him why we are delaying our return. He'll understand. He's a —"
"— friend of Didi's," Obi-Wan supplied.
Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled. "Besides, it will give you a chance to see the seamier side of Coruscant."
"Just what I always wanted," Obi-Wan grumbled.
"And when you return, I'll treat you to a delicious meal!" Didi a