"No." Obi-Wan hurried away. He regretted the brusqueness of his answer immediately, but he would work quicker alone. He needed his own perceptions. And, although he didn't like to admit it, he needed time alone to think of a way out of this. When he'd told Soara they had options, he'd meant it. He was sure they existed — he just didn't know what they were. He did not think that carrying Darra over kilometers of rough terrain while being pursued by an attacking force was the best idea.

Obi-Wan shifted from shadow to shadow. He explored the village thoroughly. When he'd finished, he knew that the village had once had three bakeries. He knew who the mayor had been and that she'd had three children.

He knew that the schoolteacher had driven a yellow speeder.

He just didn't know what to do next.

He saw a faint light through the forest. He climbed to a higher vantage point and trained his electrobinoculars toward it.

The patrol was camping outside the village. No doubt they did not relish a night battle. They would attack at daybreak, he was sure. They knew that the small band was trapped.

Obi-Wan shook his head. He could hardly believe his eyes. It seemed such a short time ago that a world such as Haariden would respect the Jedi, or at least fear the Senate enough not to attack a rescue mission. Had the Senate's power eroded this far? Had the galaxy ceased to respect the Jedi as well?

You don't need speculations. Just answers.

He walked slowly back to the hiding place, hoping an answer would come to him on the way. He had hoped to find a small, forgotten cache of weapons. Some usable transport. But anything that had not been destroyed had been looted.

Obi-Wan stopped. Not looted, he suddenly realized. The village had not been looted. It did not bear the scars. It had undergone a siege. That he could tell. But the valuables hadn't been stolen. They had been removed.