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will stab you in the back at the first hint of a profit. And Hutts deal in spice,” she said firmly.
    “They do,” said Mander. “So the question is: Do
these
Hutts deal in
that
type of spice?”
    Reen bit her lip, and the Bothan watched her as the wheels turned. At length she said, “Do you think that this is involved with my brother’s death?”
    Mander shook his head. “You said that, not me. I don’t have enough information one way or another. A rival group may be after the coordinates, and they gave your brother the overdose. Or it may be for some other matter he was investigating. Toro’s reports were brief, so it could be that he became involved in investigating this Tempest himself. In any event, I can use someone who understands the possible perils, and you seem to meet that requirement. Are you still interested?”
    Reen looked at Eddey, and if the Bothan communicated anything to the Pantoran, it eluded Mander’s senses. But after a moment, she nodded. “We’re in. Tell us about this ‘trustworthy’ Hutt that you poor, naïve Jedi have been dealing with.”
    “These Hutts belong to the Anjiliac clan. Have you heard of them?” Both of them looked at him blankly. “They are not one of the ruling clans, but are on the next level down, socially. The patriarch is Popara Anjiliac, and he is the one who has the navigation codes.”
    “Any idea where he got these codes in the first place?” said Reen.
    “No,” said Mander, “although it’s not hard to speculate. The Anjiliacs are a trading clan, and apparently spend a great deal of effort in discovering new items and markets. The idea that someone in his employ discovered …”
    “… or stole …”
    “… or otherwise acquired the codes is not beyond reason.
    “Popara and the Anjiliacs have a good reputation,” continued Mander, adding quickly, “
Good
obviously being relative when dealing with Hutts. He is ancient in Hutt terms, and has built a reputation for straightforward trade. From all our reports, he is sharp but honest in his dealings, and always gets what he wants. He pays his people well, and has a surprising amount of loyalty.”
    “Luxury,” said Eddey Be’ray, and the other two looked at him. The Bothan finished the last of his meal and said, “Hutts would see loyalty—or treating one’s workers well—as a luxury, as much a status symbol as a humanoid dance-slave or a storied piece of holo-art. If this trustworthy Hutt cannot own entire planets, the ability to engage in such extravagant actions would be a conspicuous display of power.”
    Mander nodded. “I hadn’t considered that as a possibility.”
    Reen put in, “Keep this in mind—the Hutts have no words in their language for ‘thank you.’ The best they can manage is
Bargon u noa-a-uyat che tah guma—
Your services will be rewarded.”
    “I know enough Huttese to get by,” said Mander. “Even taught a bit to your brother. That is one of the reasons why he was chosen for this particular mission.” Despite himself, Mander frowned at the reminder of sending Toro off. He pressed on. “Regardless, Popara Anjiliac has a good reputation, and I think we can trust him.”
    Reen looked at Mander a long moment, her head tilted. At last she said, “What kind of Jedi are you?”
    Mander blinked for a moment, confused by the question. “What do you mean?”
    Reen’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t know about the Tempest. And you’re negotiating for a set of space coordinates. With a
Hutt
. A Hutt that you’re willing to trust.”
    “Your brother was willing to trust this Hutt,” said Mander calmly, his face a mask now, belying his irritation.
    “And look where that got him,” she retorted. Then she realized what she had said. A shocked look crossed her face and she turned away.
    Mander was unsure what to say. He looked at Eddey Be’ray, and the Bothan nodded at him to continue.
    “A Jedi goes where he is needed,” said Mander. “Your brother, regardless