"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 planning a war or anything. It's a piece of gossip, nothing more. I'm planning to call on a few journalists. One will probably pay a few credits. I'll have to hurry to beat Fligh. He's been known to sell information more than once. I assure you, this is all routine news. Nothing worth killing anyone over. Especially me."

"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."