Ferus went through the computer files. The gang kept meticulous records and multiple ID docs for false identities. Siri found a device to override iris scans and, rolled into a tiny hidden compartment under the cockpit dash, a detailed analysis of the accounting practices of the Senate Relief Fund.

Ferus whistled under his breath. "I could be wrong, but I think they were planning to rob the Senate depository."

"That's a big job, even for the Slams," Obi-Wan said. "Good thing they landed in prison."

Anakin flipped further through the file. "This is just speculation.

They didn't have a concrete plan."

"We'll go over the files in depth later," Siri said, her head in the Slams' personal wardrobe closet. "We'll have to be up on the latest criminal tech scams. There's a criminal gossip network. Our reputation will precede us. We have to be the Slams. Speaking of which…"

Siri pulled out a purple cloak made of vela cloth. It was embroidered around the collar with thick braiding in a bright shade of green. "For you, Slam," she said, handing it to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan eyed the garment. "Questionable taste, to say the least."

Siri winked at Anakin, but the face she turned to Obi-Wan was serious.

"Tyro said that Slam is well known as a dandy. You have to wear it."

Obi-Wan's face was a study in distaste as he slipped on the ornate robe. Siri adjusted the elaborate collar so it framed his face. Anakin bit his lip. It was hard to keep his laughter inside.