Clone Wars Gambit: Siege by Karen Miller Page A

a slice of dry toast instead. Left it dry, deciding not to risk the butter or nutpaste. “We kept ourselves to ourselves, Teeb.”
    Teeba Jaklin sat back in her chair, brooding over her mug of tea. “Doing what? I’ve never met a Lanteeb youth wanted to rub clean skin with slimy alien hide.”
    He felt his blood leap.
Don’t. They’ve lived their whole lives here. This is all they know
. “Lumber. It was good money. We lost our farm to the Plough Comet drought.”
    “Aaaah,” said Rikkard, and his careful gaze warmed a little with sympathy. “The Plough Comet brought misery hanging on its tail, for sure. A trickle of bad for Lanteeb turned to gushing, thanks to the Plough.”
    “That’s true,” said Obi-Wan, his voice artfully close to breaking. “It dried up Voteb and all its farms like salt. So you see, Teeba Jaklin, for me and Markl it was Alderaan or starve. And we had no want to starve.” Lightly, he punched a fist to his chest. “Don’t give us a harsh eye. We’re home again now, which is where we belong.”
    As Jaklin closed her lips tight, Rikkard scratched the scar on his nose. “Home after three years. You’ll see a change.”
    “They said to us in the spaceport Lanteeb’s joined the Confederacy,” said Obi-Wan, his eyes wide as though he found such a notion impossible to understand. “And how the Republic’s our enemy.”
    “That’s politics,” said Teeba Jaklin. “Not for my kitchen. Teeb Markl, you’ve done with those eggs? You’ve not eaten half. You had an appetite. What happened to it?”
    “Ah—yes,” Anakin said, after a moment. “Sorry. The groundcar tumble we took. Seems I’m a bit addled, Teeba Jaklin.”
    “You’re a lummox to be addled,” she said, and took the plate for herself. “Food’s rationed here like the water. You come up hungry an hour from now you’ll not be moaning to me.”
    “Of course not,” he mumbled.
    This time Obi-Wan trod on his foot, his message perfectly clear.
Shut up, for pity’s sake, before you shove us out in the street
. “It’s a fine breakfast, Teeba Jaklin. We’re sitting here most grateful.”
    “Where did you tumble your groundcar, Teeb Yavid?” said Rikkard, his own plate empty. “We’ve good men and better tools in Torbel. Fixing machines is a thing we do here.”
    Obi-Wan shook his head, regretful. “The groundcar’s not for fixing, Teeb. Bought sloppy, we did. Young Markl here acted without thought. The engine ran wild on us in the dark, took us over bad ground and off a cliff. Broken to pieces it is, klicks and klicks from here, and nearly us with it.”
    “Then lucky it is you’ve a seat at this table eating Jaklin’s eggs,” said Rikkard. He was smiling, but his gaze was wary again. “Though if you’re on to Voteb, this is a strange place to find you.”
    “Oh, we’re not going back to Voteb,” Anakin said. “Our farm’s dust and bones. Me and Yavid thought to wander until we found a new home.”
    Smoothly taking his cue, Obi-Wan smiled. “Would there be a welcome for us here, Teeb Rikkard? Teeba Jaklin? We have money saved and want only to build a good life.”
    “Yes,” Anakin said earnestly. “And truly Yavid will shave off the beard.”
    Teeba Jaklin glanced at Teeb Rikkard. “It’s not ours to say entirely,” she said, guarded. “We’ve not so many here that you Teebs wouldn’t shift the ground if you stayed. So it’s a village thing to talk on.” Another glance at her fellow leader. “Best you sleep under this roof another night or so before you dream more of stopping. Give us time to get a good look at you.”
    “That’s fair,” said Obi-Wan. “But we’d not put you to trouble.”
    “You’re no trouble on the storeroom floor,” said Teeba Jaklin, shrugging.
    Anakin swallowed a groan. The floor?
Great
. “Thank you, Teeba.”
    “There’ll be thinking you need to do,” said Rikkard. “We’re miners in Torbel. Damotite. Tricky stuff. Men die. But there’s no other