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of
    Jemba.‖
    Obi-Wan repeated the name in his mind. Jemba. It might have been
    Jemba who had beaten him. ―Ruthless? In what way?‖
    her.
    ?Clat‘Ha glanced over he shoulder, worried that someone would hear
    ―Offworld used the cheapest labor possible. Out on the Rim world,
    in places like Bandomeer, half of Jemba‘s workers will be Whiphid slaves.
    But that‘s not the worst,‖ Clat‘Ha said. She hesitated.
    ―What‘s the worst?‖ Obi-Wan asked.
    Clat‘Ha‘s dark eyes flashed. ―About five years ago, Jemba was Offworld‘s chieftain on the plant Varristad, where another startup mining firm was also working. Varristad is a small planet, without any air, so
    the workers all lived in a huge underground dome. Someone or something pooped a hole in that dome, instantly destroying the artificial atmosphere. A quarter of a million people were killed. No one was ever able to prove that Jemba did it, but when the other company went
    bankrupt, he bought the mineral rights for practically nothing. He made a
    huge profit for Offworld. Now we‘ll have to deal with him on Bandomeer.‖
    Obi-Wan said, ―Are you certain it was intentional? Maybe it was an accident.‖
    Clat‘Ha looked unconvinced. ―Maybe,‖ she said. ―But accidents
    follow Jemba the way stink follows Whiphids – accidents like the one that
    happened to you. So take care.‖
    There was something she hadn‘t told him. Obi-Wan could sense it – old pain and fear, the desire for revenge. ―Who did you know on Varristad?‖ he asked.
    Clat‘Ha opened her mouth in surprise. Stubbornly, she shook her
    head. ―No one,‖ she lied.
    He locked eyes with her. ―Clat‘Ha, we can‘t let this continue. The Monument isn‘t Offworld‘s ship! They can‘t just go around beating people up.‖
    Clat‘Ha sighed. ―Maybe it isn‘t their ship, but Offworld‘s miners outnumber the crew thirty to one. The captain won‘t be able to do much to protect you. So if I were you, I‘d stay off their turf. You‘re welcome on our side of the ship any time‖ She headed for the door, then turned and
    flashed a grin that made her serious face suddenly look young and
    mischievous. ―If you can find it.‖
    Obi-Wan grinned back. But he still struggled against Clat‘Ha acceptance of the injustice. He didn‘t understand it. He had grown up in a world where disputes were mediated and resolved. No obvious injustice
    was allowed to stand.
    ―Clat‘Ha, this isn‘t right,‖ he said gravely. ―Why should we have to stay off their side of the ship? Why should you accept that?‖
    Clat‘Ha‘s face flushed. ―Because I don‘t want them on my side of
    the ship!
    Obi-Wan, listen to me,‖ she said urgently. ―Accidents happen around
    Jemba.
    Drilling rigs blow and tunnels collapse and people die. I don‘t want his corporate spies and saboteurs on my side of the Monument, any more than he would want mine on his. So just accept things the way they
    are. It‘s better for everyone.‖
    She left the room, the door swinging shut behind her. The edges of the door seemed to vibrate strangely. Obi-Wan realized that the heat he
    felt wasn‘t just because he was angry at injustice. His body was on fire.
    He tried to accept the fire and the pain, but dizziness overcame him. He
    fell back on his cot, head reeling, while the room spun.

Starwars jedi apprentice the rising force

Chapter 8
    Obi-Wan dreamed that he was in the Jedi Temple, walking among the star maps. He reached out and touched the star closest to Bandomeer, one of a pair of giant red lights. A hologram appeared, and a Master long
    dead announced, ―Bandomeer:
    the place where you will die if you‘re not careful.‖
    He woke in sickbay, with tubes in his arms and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. For a moment he thought he was still dreaming – Qui- Gon Jinn was standing over him. Then the Jedi‘s large, cool hand rested on Obi-Wan‘s forehead, and Obi-Wan realized he was awake.
    ―H-how?‖ Obi-Wan