Star Wars: Twilight of the Republic [Episode 1|IC]

[Ormata]

Cowritten with Bentus

Urke Qunaalac Kuarrga
Tiasha Nuvonn
Coruscant

Everything was still, the hum of the engines in the vast distance a low drone of insects in the field, and Urke laid upon his dais in contemplation. They would be arriving soon upon that fetid capital of the Republic, that heart of the militarists in their Senate, that heart of the Black Sun. He could feel it, feel the travel of the ship through hyperspace. He’d felt it for some time, the caress of it on his cheek as though the wind tugged at rubbery flesh, as though he was in water and feeling the current about his form. Urke found it somewhat annoying, though necessary. He had an empire to run, a council to please, and ambitions to be reached. He had his interests in the galaxy, a gardener at his crop, and in this Urke was somewhat pleased. Things were going well in his industries as there was an anticipation for worried purchases among the constituent worlds in the Republic. The Military Creation Act, though it might not be in effect and the military itself might not be actually formed, nevertheless worried a number of planets and planetary governors. They were uncomfortable with the Republic forming such a thing, seeing it as just another step to a hegemon.

Personally, Urke was concerned as well. A Republic on the warpath would be troublesome to his interests, his business, his people. It would cause more problems than it would create opportunities. With luck, though, the Republic might create such a military and yet still not be on such a warpath so long as their sight was focused on matters other than the Hutts.

The vessel pushed along, the stars streaks of light in the viewport. He wasn’t concerned about security; a Judicial Forces gunship heralded his way on “routine patrol”, her captain bribed by Urke’s tendency to leak information of small time, non-Cartel criminals to the man, her crew bribed by guarantees that their next shore leave would go smooth and be cheap. Such were guarantees Urke intended to ensure, of course; it did little good to betray such a resource. He didn’t need a fighter escort for his task, not with the small groups of fighters placed along his route in counter-ambush. Laffa had done his job well for the journey to Coruscant, as well as for the ending stages. He was told that a group of Republic Judicials and Coruscanti Security had swept the landing pad for explovies and surprises an hour prior to their arrival, that it had then been closed down, and several snipers had laid in wait to watch for foolishness. Personally, Urke doubted such a thing would happen. The parties concerned with his interests were bound by their morality to act directly, forthrightly, to attempt to arrest him or something in that nature. They were not the sort to hire assassins or assassinate themselves. Their hands were, according to them, too clean.

A slow, then, and Urke knew they were out of hyperspace before the pilots could make any note of it as the sublight drives spooled-up. They had lost their own escort, the gunship turning away to perform its own standard duties, but had instead gained the Coruscanti fleet as a guardian for the short while. A concern flashed in the Hutt’s mind, that they might attempt a boarding. It would become a hassle, delay him further, and diplomatic immunity was truly only as good as the inspector’s respect for the Hutts. There was little chance they had any. Their papers, though, were complete and proper. Urke had ensured that was done. Things had to be legitimate when representing the Grand Hutt Council, so legitimate even a Jedi might consider it too formal. He could feel the brief downward turn as the barge began to enter the planetary well, as the artificial gravity began to compensate, and the vessel streaked through the sky. She slowed again, turning about, as the concession organized themselves upon the cargo lift and disembarkment ramp. Pa Aszo stood by the repulsorsled, silent as he watched the detachment organize itself. They’d trained for it, after all.

The ship settled down, resting upon it’s landing gear, and the ramp opened up first as the two IG droids cleared out from it and swept the landing pad. A light blinked upon Siwa’s gauntlet: clear. The lift opened up, extending downwards from the vessel hull to open up Coruscant’s skyline for all to see. Urke was unimpressed, a wave of annoyance washing over him as the incessant buzz of speeders filled the very air, the flashing lights from massive, obnoxious advertisements fast enough that it seemed only a flash. Before him, though, was Ms Nuvonn upon the landing pad. As they approached, she bowed; Urke hid his feelings on the matter, though his eyes narrowed briefly and his mouth spread out into the slightest bit of a grin before he inclined his head just as briefly. It was good to see respect. Lianali watched the speeders go back and forth for a few moments, her eyes wide at the whole of the event, a pleasant smile playing about her own face before she turned to Ms Nuvonn. Pa Aszo, however, stepped forward to begin the proper introduction, his breath mask lending pauses to the short speech, his posture still.

“To our most esteemed colleague, Tiasha Nuvonn, Urke of Qunaalac bids you greetings on behalf of the Grand Hutt Council. We are glad you are well in these troubling times. There is much to discuss.”

•••

As she watched the vessel slowly lower itself onto the launch pad, Tiasha had little trouble masking her discomfort at the arrival of her unexpected guest. The Grand Council's decision to assign one of their own as an emissary to the Republic was a thinly veiled criticism of her own capabilities, but she knew better than to allow her displeasure with the decision to show. The arrival of any Hutt would have caused wrinkles in Tiasha's plans, with the resulting oversight doubtlessly meaning that she'd have to be more careful with watching where she stepped. But Urke was also no ordinary Hutt.

The ship's lift opened up, the doors slowly sliding open to reveal the Hutt and his entourage. Bending at her waist, Tiasha bowed in deference towards the crime lord, lowering her eyes to the floor as one of his underlings began to speak.

Even if Urke's presence was unexpected, Tiasha knew how to deal with Hutts. She'd had to do it for most of her life on Nar Shaddaa. All that had changed was the scenery.

Lifting from her bow, Tiasha smiled politely.

"It is a pleasure to welcome you to Coruscant, your Lordship." Tiasha responded, layering her greeting with the proper formalities. Her gaze drifted towards Urke's entourage, unsurprised at the Hutt's rather unorthodox choice of followers considering his reputation. Her eyes paused for a moment on a girl who's attention seemed to be drifting towards the skyline around her. She looked young, and going off of her attire was likely a nomad from one of the Outer Rim worlds. Tiasha kept her gaze moving along, choosing not to linger on the entertainment that Urke chose to keep.

"I appreciate your words of concern, Pa Aszo." Tiasha said, having done enough research to recognise the man greeting her. "And I look forward to seeing how we can best work together. Clan Desilijic is of course always willing to work with the Grand Council on matters of such import."

•••

Urke listened to the woman’s words, nodding ever so slightly at them. Working together, that’s what she thought was to happen, and it was somewhat close to the truth. Her thoughts that Clan Desilijic would be willing to work with the Grand Hutt Council was entertaining, considering that they were placed upon the Council itself as one of the Five Families, but was not entirely disparaging on her own knowledge. The Five Families were not always the sort to work with themselves or even their own edicts unless it benefited them in some manner. Luckily, however, Urke was aiming to do just that. The Outward War, that was his manner of the Kajidic, a push against the other and not the Hutt. “Somebody's got to have it. Why not us?" was the direct translation, and he was loath to ignore the us in that statement. He intended to keep things on that course.

“His Lordship-”

“Upalla,” rumbled the Hutt in low, slow tones. He raised his hand, and the Kel Dor took pause to turn to the Hutt before bowing ever so slightly and walking back just a few steps before straightening again. Urke smiled, lowering his hand and motioning to the woman with an outstretched hand before lowering it.

“Respect has been shown...and is appreciated. It is all too uncommon. We may dispense with the...formalities. Time is important in this matter. Know now, before we speak, that my presence is not your termination of employment. Your contributions have been noted. Now, lead the way.”

•••

"Your assurances are appreciated, my Lord." Tiasha replied, bending her knees in a slight curtsy as she acknowledged Urke's words. Outwardly, she presented herself as humble and relieved by his reassurances, but inwardly she bristled at the insinuation. She worked for the Desilijic and Yinnam in particular, not for the Grand Council. He had no right to terminate her employment without her master's consent, and he knew that. It was a demonstration of self-confidence, along with an acknowledgement of the shifting of power within the Hutts' interests on Coruscant.

Keeping a smile on her lips, Tiasha resisted the desire to mar her features with a frown. Any hopes of being able to maneuver beyond Urke's oversight were all but dashed.

"I have arranged for a speeder to take us to your residence." She continued, turning to lead the Hutt and his entourage from the landing pad. "It is equipped to allow us to begin any discussions with the utmost privacy. Although I assure you that the landing pad itself was swept for any bugs long before you arrived."

•••

Urke paused at the whole of it. He could feel her prickle and resist, feel her pause. She was not sincere in her words, in her smile. She merely felt the need to put on a mask; it was not surprising, considering Yinnam and his bellicose, Hutt natures. He was not a model of discipline and control, not by any measure. A look to the side, at Pa Azso, as they briefly conversed upon the matter. Pa had felt it too, felt the prickle. She had discipline herself, but not any against the Force. It was an unfortunate thing. The Kel Dor nodded, bowing ever so slightly as he advanced upon Urke. A lean inwards, a false whisper, and the Hutt nodded as well. He bowed slightly as well upon the retreat, taking his leave behind Urke.

Lianali narrowed her eyes, swallowing and questioning Urke. Was she a problem? Were there issues? No, no. No problems, no issues, for the Hutt there was only a matter of clarification, of creating an understanding between himself and the woman. She was unfamiliar with his ways, his demands towards his own employees which were constant, unyielding. They acted in the manner consciously until it was almost natural, until they did so without thinking. Almost. Urke felt that if there were problems in a thing, if there were issues by a person, that they should not lie about them. If such things were legitimate, changes may have to be made to ensure that smooth operation he delighted in.

“The landing pad may be swept...but your lips still move. You do not grasp where you are. I will...enlighten. I have the power...and the right, as elected emissary of the Five Families, to include Desilijic, to determine...who is involved in talks with the Republic here on Coruscant. This includes you. You have represented the Hutt here...admirably, but the time for such measures...is over. A Hutt must represent the Boonata Hutta, speak for the Boonata Hutta. You...are an aide to that. Do you understand?”

•••

A look of surprise flashed across Tiasha's features. She'd raised an eyebrow as the entourage had hesitated behind her, turning to see one of Urke's followers whispering into his ear. Whatever the Kel Dor had said, it had clearly been enough to warrant a response from his master. Tiasha didn't respond at first, studying Urke's features for a moment to try and grasp at any hidden meanings that might lie behind his words.

"Completely." She said, once again offering the Hutt a bow. "I didn't mean to imply any disrespect. My position here has never been to represent the Council in any official diplomatic capacity. "

Tiasha maintained her polite smile, wearing the inoffensive mask with a practiced ease even as she navigated the conversation. She decided to take a risk. If Urke was attempting to set boundaries between their operations, then she couldn't afford to not push back and stake her own claim.

"Should there be any way that I can aid you in your own tasks, I would be happy to lend my assistance. So long as it does not interfere with my responsibilities to my Clan, of course."

Tiasha glanced towards the Kel Dor as she spoke, silently wondering what it was that he had said to prompt the Hutt's apparent suspicion. She made a note to send out some feelers to learn more about the man, something about him wasn't quite adding up.

"But should you require more of me, I am sure that you could discuss such matters with Lord Yinnam in order to make the appropriate arrangements?"

•••

A pause as Urke considered her words. She wanted to keep some territory, some authority in the matters with which she worked. She wanted to keep her status as an ambassador in the shadows for the Hutts and for Yinnam personally. It wasn’t exactly surprising, especially considering Yinnam’s relative status and how much of his estates came from Tiasha’s efforts, but would nevertheless need to be crushed as a hope. Urke had little intention to let others be satisfied in their own ambitions or luxurations in exchange for the smooth-running of the negotiations. Her talks in private may yet hamper his talks in public, especially if it ever came to light on who Nuvonn represented and what she was negotiating for. Her hands were dirty.

“My task...is your task. Your silent operations are...no longer deemed necessary to the Grand Hutt Council...in their current, independent form. This is my edict. This is the Grand Council’s edict. Yinnam and Clan Desilijic are in no position to bargain. They abide by this edict. The discussion on this...is not required. Yinnam of Desilijic knows his place among the Hutts. I know mine.”

•••

Tiasha was taken aback by Urke's brashness, her smile wavering into a frown at the turn of events. While the Qunaalac were a powerful, rising kajidic, the Desilijic were nothing if not prideful. Cooperation and collaboration were one thing, but Urke seemed to be more interested in dominance than a partnership.

"I see." Tiasha eventually replied.

This was far from ideal. The last thing that she needed was to be pulled into a dispute between two Clans, especially while they were so far from Hutt territory. It would only serve to jeopardize both of their operations, as well as her own position, but she doubted that Yinnam's pride would allow him to concede with Urke's demands. Tiasha was caught between a rock and a hard place. Doomed if she did, and doomed if she didn't.

"I will have to confirm this edict with my master, of course." Tiasha said calmly, already knowing how that conversation was likely to go. "But perhaps it would be best to leave this conversation for later? We are far from home, after all - and such semantics do little to secure our position."

•••

Urke gave little pause to his response, nodding slightly in agreement with the woman as he sensed her discomfort. It was a poor position to be in, caught between the actions of two Hutt families, but then again Urke had doubts that the snub would go exceptionally far. He knew that Desilijic lacked a great number of glitterstim producers and that Kessel, by Urke’s own grace, was one of the few which formed a cornerstone of many a Hutt family’s markets. If he so desired, cutting off that supply would cause short-term collapses for multiple Desilijic businesses and that collapse could easily give him a foothold in many of their areas. It would be an annoying trade war, but one he was nearly confident he could win until they came to the negotiating table. It was the same as the Bedasii.

Of course, such a thing assumed the Desilijic were as ready to come to that negotiating table as the Bedasii. That was doubtful...and with that struggle, that annoyance, he could see Yinnam’s family throw their credits into mercenaries and efforts to sap at Urke’s funds. It would be a destructive conflict that would tear down both families and so...he doubted Yinnam would place too much effort into spiraling the chafe into a firestorm. He was prideful, true, and somewhat arrogant...but he was incapable of expressing that arrogance now, in the instance, without it turning into his bankruptcy. Nevertheless, he would argue against it.

He would argue against Jiliac, then.

“Yinnam will protest...that is his right. But we waste time here. Lead the way, Ms Nuvonn.”

[Transoxthraxia]

-snip-

-snip-

Being helped up, Aayuh couldn't help but feeling a little uplifted by her conversation with Leo. She didn't agree with everything that he said, at least, not exactly. And there was the matter of who he was, and what Order she served. But, at least, she felt like she actually had an open dialogue with someone willing to listen. And - for the record - someone on the other side of her beliefs. Rather than patronise her beliefs, Leo listened, understood, and gave his own in an open forum. A breath of fresh air, to be frank. She looked him in the eyes, smiled, and nodded, understanding and accepting what he had said to her. She watched as he moved to the edge of the rooftop and continued talking.

She nodded thoughtfully again, and spoke. "There's not a good journey worth taking that's easy".

As Leo asked for help getting to the Jedi Temple, Aayuh thought of how to help him. It was true that she got here on her own, and that she could, in theory, get him there. However, with who he was, and what the pair were going to set out to do going forwards, she was reluctant to take him right there. She thought for a minute about what to do, before responding to his question. "I have a speeder that can get us pretty close. But, well, it may be best, considering our arrangement, that we're not seen together outside of the Temple. Or inside of it, for that matter. I can take you close, but I'd ask that I drop you off far enough away so that we're not seen together by any potential Jedi. Does that work?"

[Sivio]

-snip-

-snip-

"That works," the man responded. "I won't exactly be welcomed back with open arms at the temple, even if I am Force sensitive." He chuckled a bit, which slowly turned into full blown laughter. "I apologize, Aayuh. I haven't a proper conversation like this in a long time." He looked back at the Jedi. "Plus, I think we can both agree that it's nice to not have someone disregard your opinions. Anyway, with our new arrangement, it might be best to meet in random places at first. We don't exactly want anyone seeing what we're up to. We'll meet here again at a later date. If you can think of anyone that can help us, feel free to bring them along."

While he was confident in his words, Leo was admittedly nervous. He never really took someone under his wing, even they were reluctant. Plus, part of him did not know if he could fully trust Aayuh. He shook his head. No, he thought. Not now. You know she's genuine in her words and emotions. "Alright, been quite a long time since I've been on planet, so I trust you'll lead the way. If there's anything you need to do before we head to the temple, we can head there. Though I would like to get there soon, I'm in no rush at the current moment." Leo looked around, noting any and all landmarks and features.

Leo was tempted to leave his cloak behind, but decided against it. He grabbed his mask and put it on as he put his hood up. "You have much to learn," the man said. "I'm ready when you are." Then he jumped down while using the Force to guide his descent.

[Oblivion2]

The Jedi Temple, Coruscant
0912 Local Time,
Two days after the bombing of Mercy Hospital.

’Honest Man’
A co-write between Oblivion2 and Liec



Artan Mythros, Kiffar Mercenary, had heard that the Jedi temple was massive. Now that he was inside of it, he felt a little betrayed by whomever had deigned to simply call it massive. More akin to a city dropped inside of a Mega-City, the Jedi Temple seemed to have a life all its own.

Even if he couldn’t feel the call and thrum of the Force as the Jedi could, Artan could understand that this was a sacred place. A place of introspection and study, and certainly a place worthy of respect. He’d knelt down for a moment on the landing pad and run his hands along the duracrete of the pad itself. He’d done this on every battlefield he’d ever fought; almost an homage to the world that would bear him and witness his deeds. Though this wasn’t a battlefield in the traditional sense, what he was about to do would change lives, hopefully for the better. That sort of undertaking, and the gravity of this place deserved no less.

Entering the temple itself only reinforced this sense of being in a world removed from the one outside; everywhere he looked there were robed Jedi of a hundred or more species. Some seemed to meditate in alcoves, others chatted idly or moved to and fro. Regardless of what they did, they all seemed to do it with a sense of serenity and otherworldly grace.

Artan, a man who could blend into almost any crowd with only a bit of effort, knew he would never be anything but an outsider in a place like this. Brushing those thoughts aside, the soldier moved on with his objective. At exactly midnight, a large sum of credits had been deposited into the account of a newly created charity dubbed the ‘Mercy Foundation’. MilMax had made the initial donation, and more money was rolling in from PMCs who supported MilMax’s efforts to lobby for a more decentralized and private Grand Army.

All they needed now to get things really rolling was a partner whose legitimacy wouldn’t be questioned. A partner whose donation wouldnt be viewed from behind the lens of political maneuvering. Enter the Jedi Order.

Jaeda had assured him that she had acquired a meeting for the mercenary with a member of the Jedi Council for 1000 sharp in the council chambers. It was only then, as he was smack dab in the middle of the temple that he realized he hadn’t the foggiest idea where the Council Chambers were supposed to be.

The assumption would be here in the central complex, but a quick bout of directions from a friendly Knight soon had the Mercenary heading for the appropriate spire. One turbo lift ride later got him where he needed to go, and he introduced himself to the Jedi… Or the receptionist? He wasn’t sure exactly what the function the being in the waiting room outside the council chambers fulfilled, but he introduced himself and was instructed to wait regardless.

Taking a seat, Artan fiddled with the bandages wrapped around each of his palms and a few of his fingers, a creature of nervousness. He had cut himself in several spots while assisting with rubble clearing and first aid on the day of the bombing. Rather than elect for the more expensive and more effective Bacta spray, Artan had opted to use kolto instead. There were others who would need the miracle fluid much more than him. Jaeda had thought it a political maneuver. Something to draw sympathy for his deeds and in doing, continue to forward the charm offensive MilMax had been engineering for the run up to the Military Creation act. It wasn’t like that for Artan. It was simply what a good man would do. What an honest man would do. He’d always tried to be an honest man.

——————————————

She was sat alone in the Council Chambers; opting to take the meeting in the place of the entire Council. Frankly, their entire presence was not required. Many were busy; Tomar and Dooku were off inspecting the leads into a murder most foul. Yavat was off delegating responsibilities to Masters and Knights, creating interdependent cells to assist the Judicial Forces in their investigation of the dreadful terror attack on Mercy's Own.

And that had left Jocasta, the Grand Master of the Order, with precious time and little to do. It felt odd; to feel a sense of emptiness of responsibility when a Jedi and when in such precarious times. It was incorrect to say she had nothing to do, surely, but comparatively it certainly felt that way. And so she had elected herself to speak to individuals who had explained they were setting up a recovery effort for individuals who had been harmed, wounded or even killed at Mercy's and its surrounding area.

Compassion was a key ability of the Jedi; and though many did not speak of it; hundreds of the restless padawans and knights had descended through the thoroughfare towards the hospital when it had been bombed. There was no greater collection of them at a single 'mission', Nu recalled, in her lifetime.

The doors to the council chambers had opened with a quick flourish; but Nu was aware of Artan far sooner than he had been aware of her. A kind, homely elder woman was how she appeared; in strikingly pure white robes and who held her white hair in a bun held in place by two hairsticks. The former head archivist of the Jedi Order; and perhaps a semi-recognisable face.

She stood up and bowed in place of a traditional shake, and offered the centre of the room to Artan. She herself remained standing, hands folded over her lap.

"Welcome to the Jedi Temple," she began in a clear and quiet voice. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mythros. It is rare to encounter a Kiffar in a profession such as yours, I am intrigued."

Nu hoped, briefly, he would not find offence in that. "Your associate, Miss Arno, was quite adamant in a face-to-face meeting."

She tented her fingers at her lap. "If I am correct; we are to discuss the... nature of a donation to a recovery fund? An immense tragedy; the bombing of Mercy's Own. It warms one's spirits to see so many pool together for the Galactic Good in these times of crises. Truly, a hospital. Quite barbaric."

Artan was taken aback by the woman sitting alone in the council chambers. He knew he was going to be meeting with a member of the Council, perhaps more than one. He hadn’t expected a private audience with the Grandmaster of the Order.

She would be able to feel his surprise in the force, and indeed a slight moment of awe. It wasn’t every day one came face to face with one of the most powerful beings in the Galaxy, even if she wouldn’t see it that way herself.

Stepping into the centre of the room, Artan seems to gather himself with each pace, becoming further and further grounded in years of training and allowing the battle calm to come over him. He bowed deep in return upon reaching the centre of the chambers, as respectful a gesture as he would give any head of state.

“Grandmaster Nu, it’s a singular honour to meet you. And to be welcome here in the temple.” He says upon straightening up from his bow.

The mercenary allows himself a slight smile at her mentioning his background, “Yes, my people typically keep to our Clans. I myself felt a somewhat different calling, I’m certain you of all people may understand something of that.”

At the mention of Mercy’s Own, his face goes grave and Artan nods almost curtly as the carnage comes to mind. “Indeed, there are things even the lowest beings in my profession wouldn’t stoop to. Bombing a hospital is one of those, to be certain.” Taking a slight pause to not allow himself to grow overly emotional, Artan continues. “You are correct though, Miss Arno insisted on a face to face meeting on my behalf, so I might ask for your partnership or a donation towards a charitable organization my employers and their affiliates have started in response to the catastrophe.”

Another slight pause, “I may also have wished to extend an olive branch from my profession to your Order. One way or another, I suspect the Jedi Order and beings who lead a more mercenary lifestyle will be seeing more of one another in the coming days. Best to start things off right, no?”

Artan can’t help but smile as he admits but one more thing, “I’ve also never seen the inside of the Jedi Temple. I would feel foolish with myself if I squandered the opportunity to see it up close.”

It was easy to forget the impact Jedi could have on the universe. As a keen cataloguer and archivist; one may have assumed a similar veil had spread over Nu's eyes. This would be a mistake, however. Nu was exceedingly aware of the mystical, other-worldliness that had entrenched itself in the mythology of the Jedi themselves. She was aware of their status in the galaxy at large; in the species that made it up, and how they too could seem as arbiters of a world that very little understood. So the surprise he felt; not only from the fact that she was a Jedi, but she was a *Grand Master*, was expected. But it was fleeting.

She made extra-care to gently beckon him towards the centre; where countless had stood before. The list was endless; but when matched with the uncountable infinities of the Galactic populace, it was nothing short of a tenth of the most minuscule of percentages.

"Indeed, a purpose external to oneself is exceedingly common. Even amongst your kind, if relatively at that. We have a few Kiffar within our Order -- Master Vos to name one -- your race's disposition towards having an affinity with psychometry certainly melds well with the Force." She smiled tenderly. Fondly remembering younglings, padawans and knights of that people.

When the conversation shifted to its meat; the hospital, a sombreness returned to Nu's weathered features. As if every wrinkle darkened, and her eyes drooped low, but for a moment. "Miss Arno, through her persistence, has certainly got you far. Now, the Jedi Order donating towards charitable causes and organisations is of course something we are certainly able to do. I don't suppose you would mind very much, then, if I inquired as to the nature of your employers and their affiliates? I mean no offence to you or Miss Arno; but a thorough vetting for these is in order. And I can cross-reference your words with the information in our archives."

She gave a lopsided smile, almost unsure of his words. "I certainly appreciate the sentiment of peace, Mr. Mythros. As you may know, we are Peacekeepers -- without cause, your profession is not an enemy of the Order. And I hope any encounters between knights and those who follow your line of work are maintained in that way: yet where I can speak for the Order, there are many of the mercenary sort who are not as rigorously principled as you are."

"You do join an incredibly small list of the denizens of the Galaxy, Mr. Mythros. And I appreciate the respect you have for such the institution. Tell me: your impressions? Of the building, its custodians, and so on?"

Artan couldn’t help but smile at the elder Jedi’s words. It wasn’t every day one got a compliment from a distinguished being, let alone one regarding a quality you worked hard to cultivate in yourself. He decided first to answer Grandmaster Nu’s last question. “Of the Jedi, I’ve mostly a positive opinion. I’ve worked a few jobs and cases either directly or indirectly beside a number of your Order’s members. I found most of them to be professional, dispassionate, and insightful.” He pauses a moment and gestures to the temple itself, “As to the Temple, I find it very grand, and very well appointed. Comfortable, without being overly ostentatious, even if I admit that it’s not to my taste.”

Now though… To the meat of it. “My employers, MilMax, are a private military corporation. They employ beings like myself for security, bounty hunting, militia training, amongst other things. Our affiliates are other companies like our own, and I can provide you with a list of those who have pledged a donation or will have one forthcoming in the next few standard cycles.” He holds up a small data wafer in his left hand to indicate the list.

“If I’m being perfectly forthcoming, each of these PMCs has thrown its weight behind lobbying for a Grand Army of the Republic, albeit one less centralized and more committed to individual planets and sectors having their own défense forces. Naturally their executive boards would prefer that said défense forces utilize PMCs in some form or another.”

He waves the politics aside, “That’s neither here nor there however. MilMax has always been committed to rebuilding areas where they have been involved in conflict, and working with local authorities rather than against them. Mercy’s Own is no exception. It’s my personal opinion that partnering with the Jedi Order on a fund explicitly for the victims and local businesses that were affected by the explosion would quiet any possible detractors that might say the PMCs are spending blood money to assuage their guilt or some such.”

Artan takes a long, deep breath before holding up his bandaged hands. “I would also appreciate another opportunity to help the both the survivors of the bombing and the bereaved, and nobody helps quite like the Jedi Order does.”

"Professional, dispassionate and insightful." The Grandmaster echoed with a small shifting in her stance.

"I hope that in their dispassion they could still show compassion." Nu added quickly after. "I must say, you are remarkably succinct. Individuals of all walks of life tend to your profession, of that I know. But you come to expect a certain vulgarity and brutishness; perhaps as a reaction to the reality of the work you do. It has been quite pleasant to meet one so courteous and informed."

She elected to not discuss the temple itself; feeling it an unimportant aspect of their conversation. Immediately, however, Nu's eyes narrowed a nearly imperceptible amount at the name of 'MilMax'. She knew that they were indeed the individuals she had spoken to earlier; Miss Arno had confirmed it. But it was as if hearing it aloud had allowed what that meant to finally seep in. She listened to his listing off his accomplishments, duties and experiences with an attentive ear.

"I would, very much, like to see that list. We do not often conduct business with Private Military Contractors or Corporations."

His dismissal of the politics was a smart move, but not one Nu would allow to happen lightly. "On the contrary, Mr. Mythros -- it is of grave misfortune that, ultimately, it always comes back down to politics. And the Jedi lending their support to any cause, especially during this time of heated debate over the nature and existence of a 'Grand Army of the Republic', may be interpreted as lending it to their stances on that bill in its entirety."

She brought a hand to her chin. "That is not to say we do not want to support. Frankly, credits are of little consequence to the order. Perhaps we could..."

Holding her tongue, Nu would allow the man to respond. But not before she took a look at his bandaged hands. "You were down there, in the wake of the attack?"

Before answering any of the venerable Jedi’s questions, Artan would hand over the offered data chip for the Grandmaster to inspect at her leisure. Any detailed inspect of the data would show a variety of private security companies from all over the galaxy. Some were in-house corporate protection for the handful of large corporations who supported the concept of a Grand Army. Others were more like MilMax, with a variety of contracts they seemed to take and mostly professional reputations. Sprinkled here and there were some organizations that had suspected, but never proven, ties to the underworld. Such was the price of business at times, one could never leave the darker parts of the galaxy entirely untouched.

“Yes.” Artan answers after a moment, offering up his hands for inspection. “I arrived shortly after the explosion to try and render what aid I could. First response medical, helping organize the scene for the paramedics and for any Jedi who might be on their way.” Settling his hands back down against his side he offers a small shrug, “I’m a much better soldier than I am a Lobbyist. Perhaps that’s why MilMax sent me here, because people like yourself might find me to be more palatable than what society expects my profession to be.”

Another long pause as Artan does his best to measure what thoughts might lurk behind Grandmaster Nu’s old eyes. “I can understand why the politics of the situation might make you uncomfortable. And while obviously it would be beneficial to MilMax and the militarization front that seems to have formed behind it in general, I personally would be more than willing to accept an anonymous donation from the Order, if an open partnership on the matter isn’t in the Cards. It may not gather as much momentum for further donations that way, but it would be what the politicians call cleaner, no?”

She took the data chip and inspected it briefly; thankfully nodding with a smile on her face. As quickly as it was handed to her, it was slotted into a datapad that sputtered to life with a low light hum. She quickly began to scan through the list of individuals; taking note of private security companies -- some ranged from respectable and understood security firms, to those more akin to MilMax, and those with unsavoury reputations tied to Galactic Underworlds that spanned from Coruscant to Corellia to Hutt Space. She frowned, ever so briefly.

Nu looked at his hands, but the real seeing of interest was sensing him through the Force as he spoke. Understanding him in a way that would be incomprehensible to most of the Galaxy; the ebb and flow of the energy of the universe coursing through him. "You did well," she said quietly, scanning over appendages. "Perhaps they sent you out of the fact you do show compassion."

In their silence, she continued to peruse the information now displayed on the datapad.

She raised a hand with a return of her tender smile, cocking her head to one side. "Oh, it isn't the politics themselves that make this an uncomfortable situation. Merely the perception of individuals involved in those politics. Such a fickle art, politics. Warped into a game of winners and losers rather than cooperation for common good."

Pausing, she chose her next words carefully. "An anonymous donation is an idea, yes. But so would utilising existing charities be cleaner, or allocating money to the SC."

The goodwill that had recently been earned with the Chancellor she had no intention of squandering; her personal beliefs on the militarisation act aside. It was, like much of the Chancellor's plan, absent of the Jedi. Which was what she had come to expect of the man.

"Tell me, before we continue, sorry -- I understand you mentioned support for the victims and the local businesses; but how does your fund aim to alleviate their problems? Talk me through it."

Artan nods in reply to Grandmaster Nu’s question, it was probably the most important question of the morning. “The three M’s, Grandmaster. Men, Monies, and Materiel.” He replies, ticking off a finger for each. “Direct donations is simple enough for some individuals; paying for healthcare, some place to stay in light of damage to their residence, and so on. Materiel; purchasing medical, building, or general supplies at discount rates through wholesalers, and donating them for use by individuals or businesses during their rebuild. And men; hiring expertise required to reverse the catastrophe. Builders, doctors, whatever is required to bring stability back.”

As he speaks, Artan’s tone picks up a small undercurrent of passion. It would become quite clear to the veteran Jedi that this was a soldier who believed in more than just fighting. “All in all, the fund will resemble MilMax’s Survivor’s Fund in its function. The Survivor’s Fund has an excellent track record in rebuilding damaged areas and putting lives back on track in places MilMax has seen combat. Obviously we can’t return lives, but we’ve always been committed to the swift return of peace and normality. This Fund will function on the same principles with two exceptions; it isn’t a MilMax only led initiative, and that this isn’t an incident a PMC is responsible for. As far as we’re aware anyhow.”

"I understand. A fairly robust operation; one that I am sure has the right intentions. Do you have any previous operations we can look to to see the success and the proper allocation of funds?"

Nu pursed her lips and frowned. "I apologise for being so demanding with questions, but you can imagine this is fairly rigorous -- and I am having a hard time trying to sway the opinion of not only myself, but of the other Masters would it come to it, to not maintain the funds for a donation to a well-establish Coruscanti charity with no interpreted political affiliations, or to simply internalise the funding to further expand the potency and responsibilities of our own Service Corps, who are undoubtedly going to be immensely busy in the next few days."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Perhaps we could come to a cooperative understanding instead? I'd hate for you to leave here empty-handed, or assuming we did not wish to help."

Despite his convictions, Nu was at the hands of a higher-concern. The Jedi walked precarious grounds with this Supreme Chancellor, and any slight could see their involvement in the investigation of Corde Vane pulled from under them, or even their involvement in investigating the bombing of Mercy's Own itself.

Artan cursed himself quietly for not having any of the Survivor’s Fund data on hand. A small mistake, but certainly one that a seasoned powerbroker of any standing wouldn’t make.

“A moment, Grandmaster Nu, I’ll have the pertinent files forwarded to you in a moment.” He retrieved a small data pad from the pockets of his formal robes and quickly tapped away on the screen, requesting an overview of the Fund’s activities for the last five years to be forwarded to the Jedi Council for closer inspection. Once the data arrived, it would be displayed in a manner rather similar to an investing prospectus; overviews, charts, losses and gains, investments made and infrastructure rebuilt. The Fund being self sustaining now, it operated a little differently than the average charity, but it certainly was effective at helping beings piece their lives back together.

“My apologies.” The Kiffar says with a rueful smile as he pockets the data pad. “As to an arrangement… If a donation isn’t in the realm of political possibility for the Order, I would be more than happy to arrange some advanced cooperation between the contractors and doctors we bring in and your own Service Corps. Surely the private sector and the Jedi Order working together for the common good without strictly throwing any of your perceived support for our movement would still be beneficial to the victims of the blast? It would also give you time to feel out the waters, inspect the data, and qualm any concerns a more formal and material partnership might bring up, I would think.”

His lack of data did not discourage Jocasta, but it did make her assume certain things about her discussion counterpart. She felt that sensation of self-chastising, that doubt and nervousness. What one did their best to keep blank on their face was still detectable to the Jedi, and Nu felt a sour note of sorrow for the man opposite her.

"Of course, I would appreciate that," she said as he began the forwarding process. As he took his time undergoing that, she returned to any pieces of interest in the datapad she had prior. Trying to find irregularities if any such things existed in their donation list, if the numbers added up, but such a subtle art would require more time and a keener eye for the pattern of numbers than she -- even a skilled archivist -- could not replicate at a moment's notice. The new data was just as interesting to someone who was buried in logs, charts, organisational hierarchies, statistics and whatnot. And she took her time to digest and internalise the information presented in the datapad.

"You need not apologise, Mr. Mythros, but it is accepted nonetheless."

"I believe that is the best course of action going forward; the money we would have donated will still be going to the victims irregardless -- and MilMax's own potential contacts and investors, and those you wish to donate to the Survivor's Fund, see the seriousness of the operation either in person or on the HoloNet."

The Grand Master bowed, her hands retreating into either of her sleeves. "Is there anything else you require? I assure you, the Service Corps will be in touch."

“No Grandmaster,” Artan replies with a short bow in return to Jocasta’s, “I believe I’ve taken up enough of your precious time. Please give the rest of the Council my sincerest thanks when next you see them and discuss this matter.”

There is a slight pause as that mask of professionalism slips and Jocasta would get a real glimpse at the man beneath. “And… Truly, thank you for hearing me out. Many beings distrust the mercenary trade for being what it is, so this has been something of a novel experience for me.”

The Soldier would give her another bow, this one more formal and yet perhaps more heartfelt at the same time, before smartly turning on a heel and exiting the Chambers.

[Transoxthraxia]

-snip-

-snip-

Aayuh nodded in response, smiling a little as Leo laughed. "It is good to talk like this, freely, and without fear of much judgment", she said, partially relieved that the man seemed to be in such a good mood. "But yes, we should meet in places away from potentially-prying eyes. Here sounds good, at least, for the first time that we meet." The two spent some time figuring out when their first meeting would be, before they set it in stone. Leo had asked that, if anyone else may be interested, that she bring them along. She thought about who that could even be - and then decided that it was probably best if she didn't think too hard about it for now. She felt as if the next few weeks would, at the very least, expose potential allies as the Order reacted to the fair few issues that it was faced with.

She was relieved that Leo didn't press the ride any further - she couldn't begin to imagine the questions asked of her if she showed up to the temple with an ex-Jedi in tow. She led the man down to her speeder, the twists and turns of Coruscant's labyrinthine city making the journey much more complicated than it should have been. They eventually arrived at the speeder, got in, and went to a location not far from the Temple. She let Leo off, and said her goodbyes, before heading immediately back to the structure that had been her home for as long as she could remember. Before she left, she bid a warm goodbye to Leo, who, while not quite a friend yet, was something of a fresh take on what she saw to be an increasingly-stale life.

Heading back to the Temple, Aayuh had plenty on her mind.

[Sivio]

-snip-

-snip-

Leo said his goodbyes as Aayuh dropped him off not far from the Temple. It was... interesting to say the least for Leo. He smirked as he headed towards the Temple itself. However, he had to keep his distance, lest he be recognized through one way or another. Master, I have returned to Coruscant after all these years, he thought. Had some major differences with Vane and we weren't close, but.... He shook his head. Leo still had some distance to his former place of training. In the meantime, he made sure to keep an eye for any new features and landmarks, as well as people who might need help or who would recognize him.

After his conversation with Aayuh, Leo felt more comfortable and relaxed that he now had an acquaintance who was willing to hear him out. While they both still needed time to get to know each other better, he knew they could do great things where the Order has failed. So many lives, so many situations, he thought. The Order has failed the Galaxy. I refuse to do the extremes, but I will always follow my instincts and the Force to do what is necessary. Before he knew it, he managed to get near the Temple. Still looks the same. I will never past the guards. I wonder if..... He shook his head again. He would cross the bridge when he got there. For now though, Leo must hide in the shadows and wait for a good moment.

[Revlona]

Rendor Estate
It was about midday on coruscant, not that most could tell or really cared. Not unless your body clock was set to the tradition day of wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night, then you cared just a little. Asana did care however, she cared a lot. It had been three days since her bombing of Mercy’s Own and she had finally accept a request for an interview from the media.

She had decided to take the interview now of all times for a simple and pragmatic reason. The public simply was at a point where they wanted to hear from her the most right now, she had bided her time. Waiting for the news to spread of her heroics, for the film to be analyzed hundreds of times, for the commentators to give their own opinion. The curiosity surrounding her had reached a fever point and if she waited any longer, they would simply begin to lose interest. So now she struck.

At about thirty minutes before the interview was scheduled to start, Mika arrived at Asana's home. She was followed by Inti, her Rodian cameraman, who was lugging about various pieces of equipment for the interview. The CNN reporter took a brief moment to do one final check on her appearance before being greeted at the door by Asana.

"Hello, I'm Mika Dawsen with Coruscant News Network," Mika said, introducing herself with a bright and energetic smile. "You must be Asana, right? I know it's a bit early for the interview, but I thought it'd give us an opportunity to chat for a bit while Inti sets up. Would you mind if we come in?"

Asana stuck out her hand, motioning for the crew to come inside. A small tired seeming smile played across her face. “Yes please come in! It’s a pleasure to have you.” She said, turning to allow them to pass her as they entered.

“My father offers his apologies that he couldn’t be here, he is a head figure in the bombing investigation after all,” She said as the took a seat on the sofa, offering the love seat to the reporter. “How long until we can start do you think?”

"It will take a few minutes to get everything set up," Mika answered. "I prefer to give my interviewees and viewers the highest quality production possible. They deserve the best, after all."

Inti shot Asana a thumbs up but said nothing. Instead, he immediately went to work setting the equipment up in the living room. Mika and Asana soon joined him, taking a seat while they waited.

"So, Asana, if I may ask before we start, what can you tell me about yourself? Where are you from, and what was your life like before you became Coruscant's 'darling heroine'?"

“Well it’s pretty simple,” Asana says, a small blush forming upon her cheeks. If she wasn’t sith she could be an child actor. “My early years…until I was about 6, where spent upon a war torn world. I don’t know the name of it and I never want to learn it, my father probably knows as it’s where he rescued me from. He adopted me soon after and since then we’ve travelled a lot. We’re here on coruscant now both for my schooling and because father was recalled for his work, first he was heading the chancellors assassination investigation and now the hospital bombing!” She said, making sure to show the excitement she felt for her fathers achievements.

Mika smiled and nodded as Asana recounted her past. Her apparent excitement regarding the investigation didn't sit entirely right with the reporter, but such feelings were fleeting. Mika was about to continue asking the girl questions, but a second thumbs up from Inti interrupted.

"Alright, looks like everything is good to go! Are you ready?" Mika asked.

"I think I am. All questions are OK with me by the way, I'd like to be out in the open so people know who I really am. Not quite sure I like some of the things they are making up about me, I don't feel like I deserve it." She said, turning to look at the camera and waiting for the signal that they were live.

Mika gave Inti a nod, prompting the Rodian to start a silent countdown with his fingers. Once the final digit was retracted, he made a chopping motion with his hand and the interview began.

"Hello, I am Mika Dawsen with Coruscant News Network. Today we have been given the opportunity for a unique one-on-one interview with Coruscant's darling heroine, Asana Rendor. For any who might be unaware of the events that unfolded this past week, the hospital known as Mercy's Own was bombed three days ago. Despite the ongoing investigation, the perpetrator of this terrible tragedy still entirely unknown. However, eyewitness accounts report that Ms. Rendor sprung to action before emergency services could be mustered, taking several trips into the burning building and saving countless lives before collapsing of exhaustion. Tell me, what were your thoughts the moment you decided to enter Mercy's Own?"

"To be honest, I wasn't really thinking about much. All I had time for was organizing those people who helped me and saving lives. My body moved on its own, so I guess, yeah I wasn't thinking about much," Asana said, rounding off her statement with an awkward laugh as her cheeks colored.

"I see," the reporter said. "Not many people's first reaction is to leap into a dangerous area to save live. Now that you've had time to go over the events of that day, is there anything you would have done differently? Would you still have rushed in as soon as you did, or would you have waited for the Coruscant Rescue Ops to arrive first?"

"I still would have done what I did." Asana said easily, the words seeming to come second nature to her. "The Professional Rescue teams were not on scene immediately after the explosion, however I and many other volunteers were and I am proud to say we saved many people who otherwise might have perished."

"And many families on Coruscant are grateful for what you've done. Some even consider you a hero. Do you see yourself as a hero, or just someone who happened to be in the right place at the right time?"

"I won't lie to you and fake being humble, I think what I and the others did was heroic yes. But so was the efforts of all the rescue workers, volunteer or not. Without that collective effort no one would have survived," She said.

"Indeed, we should all be thankful for the brave men and women who participated in aiding in the rescue efforts, whether they are professionals, Jedi, or just plain citizens like Asana here, willing to potentially put themselves in harm's way to save others."

"Now, before this interview we had the opportunity to chat for a bit," Mika said, leading into the next part of her interview. "You mentioned your father was leading the investigation of the bombing. Is there anything you can share with us, or any speculation you may have, as to who may be responsible for the explosion?"

"My guess is the people behind it are the same ones who tried to kill the Chancellor. Simply out to scare people into stopping the military bill," Asana said.

"Why do you believe the events are connected? And why do you think this person, or these people, are so violently against the Military Creation Act?"

“Well anyone who was paying attention knew that the chancellor was about to announce something big, to stop it they tried to kill him. Now they, or some other organization with the same motivation, are trying to scare senators and the people against the act, it’s a rather common tactic me and dad see in the rim a lot. “ She said before stopping to think over the second part.

“As for the second part, it’s probably funded by an organization who would serve to lose if a centralized military was created. Those against centralization of the republic in general,”

"I see," Mika said. "And what is your take on all this? After the Invasion of Naboo, many are worried particularly wealthy organizations may attempt something similar on their world. Do you feel the Republic would be safer with its own centralized army?"

“Definitely,” Asana said, no hesitation in her voice as she spoke. “A centralized army would do wonders for the republic. Not only would it as a baseline provide a new source of jobs, it’d go a long way in providing security for the republic. Things like the invasion of Naboo would never fly, a military would ensure that.” She said

“Plus, those against the centralization are usually for bills which would increase the funding for planetary defense forces, funding that nine times out of ten is being siphoned directly into someone’s pocket. It’s why piracy, smuggling, and slave trading can be bad out in the rim, the underfunded planet guards can’t do anything. A strong military could.”

"Thank you for being so straightforward with us," Mika said, "and thank you for agreeing to do this interview with us. Are there any last words you'd like give for the people of Coruscant?"

“Oh um…I’d like to say that we must all come together and stay strong, the people behind the bombing will not get away with it. Of course I’d also like to thank you for having me on the network, it’s a great honor!” Asana says

MilMax Penthouse, Coruscant
Moments after Asana’s Interview
’Dog’

You stupid, stanging son of a bitch!” Jaeda’s voice echoed like a thunderclap through the air of the penthouse as Artan stepped inside, fresh from his meeting with Grandmaster Jocasta Nu.

Rather than raise his voice in return, the mercenary merely cocked a dark eyebrow at his associate, inviting her to go on.

“Have you seen the kriffing news? Your little girl, Asana from the bombing at Mercy’s? Exclusive. Stanging. Interview, ON CNN PRIMETIME!”

“And?” Artan asked softly, his expression never changing even as the trained reflex to destroy a potential threat began to scratch at the back of his mind.

“Support for the Military Creation Act! From a sixteen year old! Sixteen! You should have let me coach her! Do you realize what a missed opportunity this is for us?!”

“I told you,” The mercenary says, his palms held up with his fingers splayed as he closes the distance between him and Jaeda, stopping at arms length, “We’re not going to use a child to suit our needs. It’s not how this is going to work.”

“Oh yeah? And how is your subtle touch working out for you so far, huh? Did you get the Jedi onside?” Jaeda’s defiant tone made it seem as though she knew just how unlikely getting the Jedi onside would be.

“They stopped short of a formal partnership, yes. But Grandmaster Nu has already had her people contact ours to better coordinate efforts and get the right sort of supplies to where and whom they are needed.”

“Great! A ringing victory for the Private Militarization Front would you agree?” Came her furious remark.

“Now hold on-“ Artan began before being cut off by Jaeda,

“If I were in charge of this delegation we would be much farther along than we are now! Politicians would be lining up around the block to meet us, to shake hands with MilMax’s little poster boy and the brave little girl from the hospital, but no, no, no! You need to be *principled*.” Jaeda practically spat the last word at him as if it were venomous.

“You’re nothing but a Stars Damned Dog. You don’t have the sense to lead this delegation properly!”

Silence pervaded the room as the only sound that could be heard was Jaeda’s ragged breathing.

“Are you quite finished?” Artan asked dryly.

“Why you insolent little-“

“No.” The mercenary rumbled softly, stepping toward Jaeda and towering over her with his physical presence now. It was as though a switch had been thrown and all of the momentum had shifted. In place of Jaeda’s hot temper, now resided a cold anger reflected in the soldier’s eyes.

“If the old ways were going to work, they would have. If MilMax agreed with your assessment I assure you, you would indeed be in charge, but as it stands you are not. You would do very well to remember that I am, and that if I wanted to, I could have you off of this delegation as quickly as you could spot off another tirade.”

Another step forward as Artan begins to growl the words now, “And you will not refer to me as a Dog again if you wish to do any of your breathing without the aid of tubes and other sophisticated medical equipment. It is deeply disrespectful, and if there is anything I cannot tolerate, it is that sort of disrespect.”

Taking a step back, the tension seems to bleed out of the room. “Here’s what will happen. You will make arrangements for the Gala to go forward next weekend. Invite whomever you wish, but extend a personal invitation from me to Tiasha Nuvonn, a representative from the Jedi Order, Senator Orrn Free Taa and Lott Dod of the Trade Federation. I also want you to hold two more seats for my discretional use to invite whom I choose.”

Jaeda swallowed dryly and then nodded before finding her voice. “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to sit down, pour myself a small drink and I am going to call the girl. I promised to check in on her, and I will. Now go, I don’t want to see you for the rest of the evening.”

Turning on her heel, Jaeda beat as dignified a retreat as she could. Once she was gone, Artan allowed himself a soft sigh. His position here was tenuous, owing to his lack of experience. He couldn’t let Jaeda see just how worried he was that he might be the wrong man for the job. But it was his job, so he’d damn well do it right.

Newly poured glass of amasec in hand, Artan seated himself on the couch next to the holo transceiver and dialed the number for the Rendor estate and waited to be connected.

The comm unit in Asanas room rang, rang, and rang again before Asana hit the button which allowed for the person on the other end to speak? “Yes…?” Asana said, her voiced laced with annoyance.

A nervous soundingvoice on the other end spoke and said, “My apologies mistress Asana, but a Mr. Artan is calling for you.”

“Ah, one moment.” Asana said, rolling out of bed and shaking herself, forcing the tiredness of a day down in the underbelly out of her system. “Alright, you may patch him through,”

“Yes ma’am,” the voice, obviously one of the servants, said.

“Hello? This is Asana speaking, how can I help you?” Asana said, curious as to the reason for the call. She had her suspicions of course but it’d never hurt to ask.

“Miss Rendor?” Artan’s low voice rumbled through the connection. He didn’t want to display video at the moment, not after the conversation he’d just had with Jaeda anyhow.

“It’s Artan, the fellow from just after the bombing. I gave you a ride home, if you recall.” There’s a slight pause on his end of the line as he allows his words to sink in. It had been a traumatic day for everyone and he knew better than most how spotty memory could be in the face of tragedy.

“I’m calling to see how you’re holding up. I did promise, after all. To see how you were doing that is.”

“Of course I remember!” Asana said, excitement entering her voice. She had to fake a bit of the excitement in her voice, she wasn’t ready for this conversation and had been caught off guard but she knew if she wanted him that she probably couldn’t back out now.

“I wanted to thank you for helping me back then. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise, you were amazing during the rescue, I saw you helping as well.” She said.

She hadn’t seen him helping, at least not in the moment. She had however caught glimpses of him helping in some of the footage and added into his rugged appearance as he brought her home, if was an easy thing to lie about.

“I’m holding up pretty well. I talked to the media on my terms and have been getting a lot of messages. People telling me I’m a hero and such, not quite sure what to make of it.” She said. She had gotten messages like that, mixed in of course where those few messages hating her and telling her she didn’t do enough, it they were few in number.

“Yeah, I’m watching your interview right now.” Artan admits with a bit of a sigh on the other end of the line.

She can almost hear him shaking his head on the other side of the line, “You’re brave, I have to hand you that. Not just for helping save people, you can do that just because your body happens to be moving before you can thinking about it. But because you knew you’d be interviewing and you managed to work yourself up to despite whatever you might have to remember about the bombing.”

He allows himself a small, quiet chuckle, and then lowers his voice almost conspiratorially, “You know, some people on my team are upset I didn’t take advantage of you being so brave. They’re a little pissy they didn’t get their claws into you and tell you what to say for the networks, but that’s between you and I.”

“Ah, well,” Asana said, her mind racing as she tried to think up something to say. Getting in with the MilMax lobbying group would definitely give her more publicity and influence down the road, especially if she handled it right, but she didn’t want to seem eager about it or it might throw the man off.

“Thank you, it was pretty hard working up the courage, knowing billions of people might watch me talk. I would have appreciated you’re help but I guess I understand if you thought it wouldn’t be proper,” she said, her heart beating, unsure if she had gone a bit to far.

“That came out wrong, I meant that I would have appreciated the help but I’m not angry you didn’t or anything!” She said then, spitting the words out quickly.

Artan laughs out loud this time, a full body shaking belly laugh. It’s an honest sound, one rich with mirth and life.

“Yeah, you got the right stuff alright.” He finally manages as he stifled his laughter down to the occasional chuckle. “But yeah, you’re exactly right; it wouldn’t have been proper in the slightest. You’re young, and no offense you’re still a little impressionable. I’ve seen exactly what beings with power can do to impressionable kids…” He trails off, his tone and thoughts having gone dark for a moment before he picks up again.

“Look, I’ll be straight with you kid; I like you. I think you’re going to be someone some day, someone who gets things done. If you have your heart set out on that sort of thing, I’ve got no problem helping you out from time to time. Not because I think you can get me what I’m after, but because I respect you for what you did and for who I figure you might become. Does that make any kind of sense to you?”

“Yeah I think that makes sense,” Asana says, her eyes narrowing. A partnership might be off the table if she went through the conventional methods with the man. Perhaps a different method at a different time could work.

“Though I will admit I’m kind of surprised. Normally politicians don’t hesitate to jump in someone as impressionable as I am, so what is your motive?” She said, breaking out in a fit of light laughter to alert him that the last part was a joke.

A snerk is her reply. “I’m going to let you in on a very poorly kept secret Asana. I’m not a politician: I’m a mercenary. And my motive, if I have one at all, is that I want to live in a world where men and women like me who fight and die for this Republic out there on the margins get a little more respect. So, that’s why I can’t- why I won’t use you for my own ends. You might be one of those people some day who needs a little more respect.”

She laughed then, a genuine laugh at the irony of his statement. “You do realize I’m already a soldier in all but name. When the military is formalized my commission will be too, my uniform might have gotten messed up during the rescue but I was still wearing it,” she says before hesitating.

“I’ll also let you in on a secret of my own. I’m not as innocent as you might think, I’ve…done things while traveling the galaxy with my father, things that keep my up at night, I had to to them but I didn’t like it. So the bombing was bad of course, but it wasn’t the worst I’ve seen,” she said, her voice quieter now.

“We all do things we’re not proud of sometimes.” Artan replies, his tone sober now. “We all see things that stay with us and keep us up at night. The key is knowing when to get the hell out. My father, a wiser man than I, told me that I’d know when that was when I couldn’t look myself in the mirror in the morning anymore. So, if you can still manage to bare your pearly whites at yourself every day before breakfast, I’d say you’re doing just fine kid.”

“Of course I can look at myself in the mirror.” Asana said, almost seeming to snap the words out. She had surprised herself, she had suddenly lost her temper and had snapped at the man for no real reason, she hoped he would excuse it as being due to the dark topic.

“Ah, umm, well anyways. Could I potentially visit your offices sometime? Not to join you because you’re against it, but mostly because I’ve looked into you’re lobbying and have found myself agreeing with it, I, well I was going to mention you in my interview as someone I agreed with but I didn’t know if you’d be ok with that so I didn’t..” she said, hoping to win him over with that last part, or at least get him thinking.

Silence seems to envelope the line. For a moment Asana would be uncertain as to whether or not the Kiffar had hung up on her or not.

“I suppose you could.” He admits after a moment, “I don’t know why you’d want to; we’re not here a lot of the time and when we’re here my staff and I are talking politics, or arguing over them. I can’t really see what good it would do you… And if Jaeda managed to corner you alone for a few minutes I’m not sure I’d be able to forgive myself for it.”

“I, well to, to talk to you and your people in person I guess. And…wait who’s Jaeda?!? She your girlfriend?!” Asana says, allowing the shrill squeal of a gossiping teenage girl to enter her voice. She absolutely hated that tone but the pause had made her nervous and she wants to throw off any suspicions he might have.

“Nothing so scandalous as that I’m afraid.” Artan replies with something between a grunt and a sigh. “No, Jaeda is the lobbyist on my team. The real lobbyist that is. She’s the one who feels I’ve dropped a massive opportunity by not coaching you through your interview and using your public image as your own. The *pissy* one.”

He clears his throat, allowing himself a moment to think. “If you wanted to meet with me and my team though, it might be better in a more neutral environment. Perhaps with your father too. Otherwise I’m not sure I can keep Jaeda on a tight leash.”

“Aww, I bet she’s pretty. Most of them are in that business,” she said before smirking to herself.

“Yeah that sounds good, I think dad would be ok with it, I’m basically already independent but I understand why you’d want him to be there. I have to say that she sounds really fun, if only because I’m curious how you keep someone like that on a leash”

“You don’t, not really.” Artan admits with a sigh. “It’s like trying to get your hands on a hurricane. What you do is you aim it at something else instead and let it burn itself out. Or stand your ground and make it understand that you’re a lot scarier than it is. Here, I’ll forward you our details. Your father can do whatever digging he feels is necessary and then we can make arrangements from there. If *that* goes well, perhaps the two of you would like to come to a Gala we’re hosting for bombing? Strictly a charity thing, with as little politics as I can possible manage.”

“Oh boy, I’ll have to tell dad to keep his digging simple or he’ll go so far back you’ll be getting dragged in for questioning cause an ancestor was a soldier for the Sith Empire!” She said, laughing at her joke after speaking it.

“I wouldn’t mind going to this gala if you invited me,” She said, knowing that she now needed to get herself invited.

“Like I said, we’ll see how this meet up goes and go from there.” The Kiffar says with a chuckle. “I’d certainly like for you to be there, because If anyone is the face of hope climbing out of the jaws of the tragedy of this thing, it’s you. But one way or another it won’t happen unless your father and Jaeda and anyone else understand that I want you to come because I think it would be good for you and for anyone affected by the bombing. Agreed?”

“Yeah, agreed!” Asana said, happy to have a potential invite.

“Well if you don’t mind I have a couple things I’d like to do for the rest of the day, it’s been nice talking to you, thank you for calling!” She said

“Yeah, I was about to say it’s been a long day for me as well. Call me if you need anything, and have your father call once he decides what he’d like to do.”

A pause accompanied by the clinking of ice in a glass on the other side of the connection. “Take care Asana.”

Without another word, Artan ends the call and leans back into the pillowy cushions of the couch with a long, drawn out sigh. He casts his eyes up at the ceiling and curses lowly, “Stang, Jaeda is going to have a bloody field day…”

[Ormata]

Cowritten with Bentus

Urke Qunaalac Kuarrga
Tiasha Nuvonn
Coruscant

The speeder that Tiasha had arranged for the Hutt and his entourage was a luxurious affair. Travelling through the Coruscanti skyline, the vehicle was more enclosed-skiff than personal transport. With the small convoy of private security speeders that flitted along beside it, she had little doubt that the procession would have drawn at least a few eyes from the city's residents going about their daily commute. In a city that beat as the heart of galactic government however, such displays of wealth and power were hardly uncommon among the planet's upper levels.

In the moments following their departure, Tiasha had transferred a briefing from her datapad to her new colleagues. Considering how little time she'd had to prepare for Urke's arrival, and with the lengthening laundry list of priorities that she'd been juggling on her plate, the documentation wasn't her most polished work. But information was still useful, even if it wasn't bundled together with pretty graphs and imagery.

"Currently, the senate is still largely preoccupied with the fallout from the recent attacks and the Chancellor's militarization bill. At this point, the bill is almost certain to pass in some shape or form, despite a passionate and vocal opposition from a number of outer rim and pacifist senators." Tiasha explained, summarizing the files that she'd just distributed. "As the bill has moved towards debate and amending, I've been working to assign expected voting behaviour for each of the voting representatives in the chamber. While abstract support or opposition for a Grand Army tracks closely with the political factions, the situation is far messier when it comes to the details. Plenty of groups even within the Chancellor's traditional support bases have been proposing amendments that range from the full off-loading of the military to the private sector, to pork projects for individual electorates."

"I've been working with a private security firm - MilMax - to gather support for a series of amendments promoting a more decentralized military. While any armed force for the Republic is disadvantageous for us, we can still stand to make the best of a problematic situation." Swiping a finger across her tablet, Tiasha highlighted a particular report that she'd linked to in her briefing, and which now appeared on the others' screens. "The immense spending that this project calls for is a massive opportunity for adjacent industries. Unfortunately, strict Republic oversight would make it difficult for us to compete with the established, more legal firms. The hope is that by decentralizing military spending to planetary and system governments, individual contracts will be smaller in scale, and come with correspondingly less legal oversight."

Stopping herself, Tiasha scanned the room for any immediate reactions or comments. There was a far longer list of reasons behind her efforts to amend the Chancellor's bill, but they were all contained within her briefing in one form or another. With Urke's past experience within the arms industry, and his family's thick fingers still submerged within that pie, she hoped that it would be an argument that would play well.

•••

Urke shifted, reading quickly through the datapad in his hand. He flitted ahead of her points on some accounts, kept with it on others. The information was interesting enough, presenting a wealth of opportunities for his own factories to insert themselves wherever the larger firms couldn’t meet the demand, though the idea of arming a resurgent Republic did not make him so comfortable. They were moving and moving fast; the militarization called for massive expenditures far outside the normal contributions of many member worlds, and while it would be luxurious and amazing to profit off of such a thing it was also concerning to the Hutt. A Republic with member worlds starving because of its own military costs is a Republic with member worlds itching for removal from that state, worlds eager to secede. It would give the Supreme Chancellor far more of a reason to be more belligerent, to act more aggressive. He would have to be careful in his proceedings, dealing with such a being and such events.

He paid little attention to the outside, the windows. He gave little thought to the idea that the convoy which carried him along would be noticed by those below, would bring some questions to their minds. It was common for his movements to be noticed by others, to be remarked upon. He was a Hutt. He was used to being noticed, to raising questions. Such questions would be answered in good time for them.

Urke didn’t give much attention to the private security which Tiasha had hired to make the journey. Laffa had said she had made her own arrangements on some accounts, something which had annoyed the Gand to no end. He felt it clashed with his own efforts, provided gaps between his measures and hers due to the lack of coordination, and opened them up to potential threats by unvetted guards. Urke, to some extent, did agree. He didn’t like the idea of being guarded by only Tiasha’s employees, especially if she proved more loyal to Yinnam than he.

He could sense her lack of discomfort. She was focused on the task at hand, on the delivery of information, though there was a question hanging in the air. Tiasha emphasized the potential for Urke’s industry to provide for the proposed armed forces, emphasizing it to the point of near redundancy. Any fool could see that Urke could stand to profit from the raising of an army for the Republic. Any Hutt could see that handing weapons over to those who profess to hate and fear the Hutts was possibly a bad idea. Urke erred on the side of caution, narrowing his eyes as she continued to deliver information. He spoke ponderously, careful to choose his words.

“A decentralized military. Have you proposed a decentralized military only in procurement...or in it’s other aspects? Command, for instance. This sounds more like…increased defense forces. They would not accept. Those worlds which…desire a large force have built them already. Those which do not...have not.”

He paused, turned to the Kel Dor briefly. Pa Azso swallowed, shifting in his seat as he sat the datapad in his lap. It was a problem, that was true enough, and the flash of a talk the two had with that look was only tangentially noted by Lianali. Should the plan be revealed? Yes. It had to be. The purpose of the journey was the plan and the purpose of Urke’s appointment as emissary was due to the plan. Independence was paramount, but it mattered how that independence was presented, how it was shown. It was a simple agreement between the Kel Dor and the Hutt.

“My concern in this is not the creation of new profit. My concern is the defense of old profit. I am concerned by this bill, which threatens Hutt space...and independence, without refute. The Grand Council is likewise...concerned. We have existed as we are by Republic inaction, not by promises...not by treaties...not by respect. They do not see the Five Families, the Boonata Hutta, as a political power. They do not see the Hutts as a respectable power. We are not present to discuss or arrange the funding or supply...of the Republic’s new war machine. Such matters...will be taken care of by other means. They will flock to us in time, after independence is secured. We are present to secure Hutt space as an independent state, seperate from the Republic’s...interference.”

•••

Tiasha couldn't hide the surprise from her face. Blinking as she thought for a moment that she may have misheard, she glanced between Urke and his Kel Dor advisor as if to see if they were being serious. She hadn't heard anything about such a plan in advance, and Tiasha found herself blindsided by the unexpected shift from the Council. The Hutts had always thrived in the shadows. The Clans' success was tied to at once being visible among those weaker than they, while not positioning themselves in such a way that would draw too much attention from the inward-facing, bickering Republic core. What Urke was proposing would be a radical departure from that unwritten policy, and that came with it a host of risks and unknowns.

"Command would also be decentralized during times of peace. But in order to gain militarist support, it was essential to include a clause that would see a common command structure implemented in the event of a senate vote to declare war." Tiasha said, responding to Urke's initial question in part to give herself more time to come to terms with everything else that he'd revealed. "My analysis - and that of those far less capable than I - is that the Republic will militarize in some fashion. We can't change that. Instead we can only seek to make the best of the situation."

Then, her voice fell silent. She'd pursed her lips, her brow furrowed with thought as she considered her next words. She couldn't fault the Hutt's ambition, but such a dramatic plan would inevitably come with risks. Risks to the Hutts...and to her.

"I was unaware of the new policy from the Council." Tiasha said. "I haven't done much backgrounding on such a proposal. I'm not even so sure what recognition from the Republic would really even look like. They de facto recognise that Hutt space isn't under their administrative control, although I agree that the Jedi in particular have never been ones to care much for the limits of their jurisdiction." She paused. Whatever approach that Urke opted for, his ambitions would see the spotlight turned towards the Hutts. With the military bill, and the Republic citizenry in a heightened state of fear and readiness, she wasn't sure if now was the best time for such a scheme. But she didn't stand to gain anything by arguing with the Hutt, while helping him could only be of benefit. Even more so if he felt like his plan was reliant upon her. "The Republic will ask for something in return. I'm not sure what, but your presence on Coruscant alone will tell them that this is of value to the Council."

•••

“That’s no fault of yours,” Pa Aszo said hesitantly, “The motion has not yet been made public towards any outside the Grand Council and those present here. Our measures have been thorough.”

He briefly looked at Urke, pausing, before continuing in his talk. “The opinion is that the Republic, consumed as they will be by the costs of this militarization, will seek ways to...cut corners as it were. They’ll want to downsize in a way. We will offer to defend Hutt space, as is already being done, on our own credits. Likewise, promises will be made that the Hutt Clans will avoid building large fleets, will avoid building up too great of a military. We would be protected by, in essence, a defensive force only. Shipments which pass through our space will do so unmolested. That will sate the militarists and the Supreme Chancellor. We project that the Pacifists, however few there are, would be satisfied by this arrangement. Likewise, the Corporates will receive...ample incentives to begin industrializing worlds among Hutt space which have, so far, been neglected. A tax haven, if you will. Your concern will be to gather support for this effort.”

A rumble again as the Hutt spoke, his words faster than they had been prior, one hand clasped about the datapad while the other settled in his lap. “We have operated far too long in the shadows...the presence of a KDY official, a Corellian Diktat, or a Bothan envoy each carry more respect than mine. There are more credits to be made...operating large, respectable industries...than there are in the spice trade, in flesh markets, in smuggling. I am not interested in small businesses. I am not interested in hiding for all my life. We have in our power...to change the galaxy. The name of Xim is known throughout the galaxy, but none remember the Hutt who captured him...placed him in chains...and gave him command of rats and fleas. None remember the great Hutts, the powerful, the strong. They remember...demons…Sith...but not us. This angers me. Our strength has been enslaved to our image, broken by...a mantra that we must stay in the shadows, ruling…paltry thrones. I will not allow it to continue. We shall claim our rightful place in the galaxy, Ms Nuvonn. This is the task. We shall claim, not beg, and build the Boonata Hutta as it once was...a rival to Coruscant...the jewel of the Outer Rim. This...is my edict.”

•••

"I never meant to imply that I was at any fault." Tiasha quipped back to Pa Aszo, very nearly snapping back as she allowed a hint of irritation to creep into her tone. "I am merely acknowledging the difficulty of needing to start on something like this without any warning, or time to prepare."

If the Council were serious about what Urke was saying, then they should've spent years laying the groundwork. At least. They were seeking to undo entire generations of norms and expectations from a bureaucracy that moves slow even in comparison to the Hutts' own lumbering forms. She wasn't even sure yet what she may look for in voting records to find potential support, let alone have a list of contacts to start initial negotiations. Nevertheless, Tiasha continued to listen as the Kel Dor and his Hutt continued to speak. While she remained impassive as she listened, she found amusement in the irony of Urke's words.

He chafed against the Republic, jealous of their strength and authority across the galaxy, it seemed. He rued the small thrones that his people were left with. But Tiasha knew what those same thrones looked like from the streets of Nar Shaddaa. From the lower levels amidst the muck and the dirt, where the wretched look up to see the Hutt in their skiffs as pinpricks in the sky. Further above still, the glimmering lights of Nal Hutta hung above as an omnipresent reminder of what they were: fleas on the backs of the Hutts that deigned to let them eke out their lives. That was how they all lived, apart from those willing to do what it took to be noticed.

When Urke had finished, Tiasha remained silent as she parsed through her thoughts. The plan was still vague, though that was perhaps by necessity.

"The Corellians and Bothans are both members of the Republic, while KDY must bend itself to the Senate's laws and regulations." Tiasha eventually replied, cautious with her tone as she ever so slightly pushed back against the Hutt. Doing so always demanded a gentle touch, but it was better to clarify such things now than be strung up for a later failure due to miscommunication. "Such comparisons hardly paint a picture of a proud and independent Boonata Hutta, my Lord."

Tiasha studied Urke's features as she spoke, clearing her throat as she continued.

"But if that is what is commanded of me, then I shall start work at once. The Republic will ask for more, however." She cautioned. "For trade, they will want laws and regulations. For the right to be armed, they will demand for checks and balances. They will insist upon taking some of the sovereignty away from the Families as part of their bargain. That's how they operate, this government in particular."

•••

Urke ignored her quibble over pride, narrowing his eyes as she spoke. Snapping back at his advisor...unnecessary. Foolish. She wasn’t quite understanding his meaning, wasn’t quite understanding his words. She was angry over a perceived insinuation, angry over something exceptionally small. This was his ambassador? His tool? A flawed tool, he thought, a flawed person. A degree of doubt entered Urke’s mind before he pushed it down and away. She could still have her uses and still had her contacts. She had an established position. That was useful alone. He’d felt laughter, though, as he had spoken. Mocking laughter? Yes. It most definitely was. He’d felt laughter, that smile curling about the corner of the mouth, as he’d talked of his anger, of his dissatisfaction. She thought less of him than that, thought it and never let the emotion touch at her face. That angered him, truly, deeply. He hated the idea, hated the disrespect, the stupidity.

“You doubt me? You think...me as greedy? Echuta! Uba beeogola nechaska!” He spoke the words with a venom, a disgust that seeped into his skin and turned narrow eyes into dinner places full of emotion. The mere idea that she would be so...stupid turned his heart inside-out, made his blood boil, and his words following were barely constrained passion.

“The weak and ineffective position of the Hutts...trickle to the weak and ineffective below. We will raise ourselves. Those below...will be raised with us. I have no need for liars...or fools. You lie...with your face. You are foolish...because you doubt. The Republic is weak and they are disorganized. They argue...over merely having a military in the first place. They are afraid of it themselves.” Urke swallowed, breathing out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d kept in, breathing out his anger along with it.

“They will ask for more...they always have. I am not surprised by this. They will desire guarantees and mechanisms to guarantee. Laws...and regulations I expect and welcome. They provide ample context...to break. They will attempt to take sovereignty, to take independence. They will fail.”

•••

Tiasha remained impassive as she bore the brunt of Urke's outburst. Her lips pursed ever so slightly as she weathered the venom of his tone with her hands neatly folded in her lap. Once he was done with his tirade, she simply bowed her head apologetically.

"Forgive me for speaking out of line, Lord Urke." Tiasha kept her eyes away from the Hutt's as a sign of deference, her body language effortlessly shifting to one of subservience and subordination. "I didn't mean any disrespect, nor imply any doubt."

Tiasha had learned what she'd wanted to from the response, and now there was no reason in risking antagonizing the Hutt any further. Despite what he might've otherwise said, he didn't want an advisor to assist him in his task. He wanted a lackey. A tool to carry out his instructions precisely as he desired, an implement to carry out his faultless will. And as far as Tiasha was concerned, that was a far easier task for her to accomplish.

"I'll start to put together a list of potential contacts." She said, effortlessly shifting from her apology to pragmatic professionalism. "Names and offices that may be willing to meet with a representative of the Families and who might be inclined to support your agenda."

•••

“We will be in touch. Aszo, stay to finalize any...details.”

The transport settled down again, the Hutt and his entourage slowly making their way off the craft as one figure among them stayed put, stayed still. The Kel Dor sat in his seat, fingers interlaced, eyes settled upon the woman before him. He hadn’t taken much pleasure in the argument, in the embarrassment that was her actions and Urke’s response. Unlike the woman, however, he had a good bit more self control in the mind. He could simply...not. Nevertheless, he stayed stock still as his master and colleagues exited and the craft doors closed silently. When it finally clasped shut, he nodded slowly, gently.

“I applaud your efforts. It could have gone worse. It could have gone a good deal worse. Urke is not one to tolerate...hidden thoughts or emotions. He prefers issues in the open. You are a good actor...but sadly not good enough.” He shifted just a bit in his seat. “Do you have any questions before we begin?”

[Bentus]

Cowrite between Bentus and Revlona.

Tiasha and Darth Pretiosa

---

It was late in the day on Coruscant, for those who kept to a regular schedule it was past time for people to have left work and been home. Not for some however, not for Darth Pretiosa.

Other than a slight feeling of something being wrong nobody would find anything out of place in the office of Tiasha Nuvonn. No alarm had been triggered, no sensor set off, not even a single thing was out of place in the office. However, in the darkness, Tiasha did host an uninvited guest.

Asana had been sitting in the darkness behind her targets desk for half an hour by the time she heard the telltale sounds of someone coming. She shut off the communications relay which she had been listening to, updates from her team in the underbelly, lead by Tyvor.

Things moved quickly in the upper levels of the galactic capital. Time was money, and business deals could be made or broken in the pitch-black hours of the planetary night. Tiasha was no stranger to working odd hours, and she'd learned to accept that late nights surrounding the passage of a critical bill were part of the price of entry into her line of work. Taking a sip from the cup of caf in her hand, Tiasha paused as she stepped into her personal office.

Call it a sixth sense, but something caused her to hesitate as she entered the dark room. She felt a chill creep onto her skin, while a stillness seemed to hang in the air. Narrowing her gaze, Tiasha noted the weight of the holdout blaster hidden beneath her winter coat as she flicked on the lights to reveal the masked figure sitting behind her desk. Tensing as she felt her heart rate spike, her mind immediately lurching towards the risk of an attempt on her life. She quickly dismissed that possibility, though. An assassin wouldn't have positioned themselves so clearly in view, especially one with the skills to overcome all the precautions that she'd set up around herself. Was the figure there to intimidate her? Potentially.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Tiasha eventually said, removing her coat and hanging it by the door. Her eyes never left the figure, and she made a deliberate effort to move slowly, albeit confidently. Even if the figure wasn't there to harm her, only a fool would tempt fate with sudden movements.

“My apologies Miss Nuvonn for not announcing myself, I did not mean to cause you alarm.” Darth Pretiosa said from the comfortable chair which Tiasha obviously enjoyed on a regular basis. A brief thought to give up the seat to the woman flashed through her mind but she quickly shelved it, she held the power while she held the seat.

“You won’t be needing the blaster darling.” Pretiosa said, her voice soft and laced with sarcasm as it went through the voice modulator which was built into her helmet. She had sensed the woman’s slight movement, maybe even unknown to herself, to ensure that the weapon was still in place.

“In fact,” Pretiosa said, raising her hand and snatching the blaster out of its holster with the force. She looked it over once before laying it on the desk before her, she then pulled out her own blaster and laid it beside Tiashas on the desk.

“There, now we are both unarmed. Please take a seat, we have business to discuss,” Pretiosa said, motioning towards the chair in front of the desk.

While Tiasha was unsurprised by the slightly modulated voice emanating from the figure's mask, she did pause as her blaster was ripped from its holster as if by magic. Blinking in surprise, it took the woman a moment to realise what she had just witnessed. In that time, her guest had placed their own weapon down on her desk. She offered the masked figure a smile, although she was even more on edge than before, knowing now the potential danger that she faced. But at the same time, Tiasha was curious.

"I'll stay standing, if it's all the same to you." She said politely. While she doubted that she could match a force user's reactions, sitting down would void all chances she had to get out of the way of any attacks, or run for help in the event that things turned violent. "And while I appreciate the gesture, we both know that someone like you is never unarmed. No matter appearances."

There was tension in the air, with both parties knowing that there was potential for danger. While Tiasha doubted that she could escape from a confrontation with her life, there was every chance that her guest would never escape from her office in the few seconds it would take for help to arrive to a sudden cry. The masked figure had taken a risk coming to her, if their anonymity was something that they valued. That piqued Tiasha's curiosity even further, even so far as to cause her to neglect the very real danger that she was in.

"Care for a drink?" She queried, gliding towards a nondescript fridge that was built into the oak furnishings of the room. "I would hate to be an unwelcoming host, even if it's business that you're here to discuss."
“Oh please don’t be that way, I insist. Sit.” Pretiosa said, the final word laced with authority as their surroundings bent to her will. The darkness seemed to darken and the desk below her groaned as if from bearing the weight of a hundred men.

Tiasha had already impressed Asana, both in the meeting with her father which she had listened in on, and also in the the short discussion they had been having so far.

She had impressed her, yet she needed to be taught her place if any future relationship was to occur. She delved into the woman’s mind and wasn’t surprised to find that she had an iron will, overpowering such a will would prove to be a waste of time so she did not, instead she merely showed her what she should be feeling, if only for half a second.

In that half a second Tiasha would feel true terror, as if all he fears had suddenly come true right before her eyes. All while Asana smirked an unseen smirk beneath her helmet.

“No thank you, I don’t drink.” She said directly after, filling the silence as she allowed the woman in front of her to comprehend what she had just felt.

As she opened the fridge, Tiasha felt the chill suddenly bite into her bones. She stumbled, gasping at the darkness that gripped at her chest as terror gnawed its way into her gut. For the briefest of moments, she felt her whole world turn itself upside down and inside out, and in that instant she felt helpless.

But just as quickly as it had come, the moment ceased. The darkness receded, and Tiasha was left steadying herself on the fridge as her heart continued to pound fearfully in her chest. Turning back to the masked figure sitting comfortably at her desk, she frowned at the unspoken threat behind the force user's invasion of her mind. It was a raw display of power. A display of unseen violence meant to make it clear where they thought the balance of power lay in their exchange.

"Well, I do. If it's all the same to you."

Tiasha eventually said, a hint of bitterness in her tone at the mental violation. Taking a bottle of wine from her fridge, she deliberately steadied her hand as she poured herself a glass. Even if the fear had left her, the shock of what she'd just experienced still lingered. Tiasha knew what it felt like to be powerless, she'd known for most of her life. And she hated it.

Taking a sip from her glass, Tiasha moved herself over to the empty chair. Placing her drink down on the table between herself and her guest, she studied the impassive helm that stared unblinkingly back at her.

"I'm listening. What is it that you want?"

Good, she had been shown the stick and had reacted as Asana had hoped, now it was time to offer the carrot and see how that went.

“First I’d like to apologize. I felt it necessary to show you what exactly you were dealing with. It won’t happen again unless I am forced to do so, not that I’d assume you’d force that.” Pretiosa said, speaking matter of fact now, the savage enjoyment she had been feeling erased now.

“The matter at hand is quite simple. You have caught my interests, yet after a little digging I was surprised to see your employers. It occurred to me that perhaps your talents are being wasted…” Pretiosa said, leaning back in the comfy chair and making herself comfortable.

The question hung in the air for a moment before it would probably become apparent that it was purposeful, the dark figure across from her was awaiting a response.

Tiasha understood the purpose behind the woman's action. Hell, she respected the boldness of opening the conversation with a show of strength like that. Not that any of that meant that she appreciated it.

"On the contrary, I can be selective with my clients when I choose to." She quipped back. "Many of them represent prominent figures in the Republic's industry, both strictly legal and...otherwise."

Tiasha's gaze narrowed. "But ultimately I am using my talents for myself. Consider me biased, but that hardly seems like a waste."

“Legal and otherwise. Within the republic and…otherwise. I understand.” Asana said. She was playing hard to get, it was obvious yet she still held the advantage of knowing the fact that Asana couldn’t force her to do anything. Well, she could, but it would be counter productive to the entire reason she was here.

“I will stop beating around the bush then, it’s an insult to your intelligence. I want you to come work for me.” Asana said, letting the statement hang in the air for several seconds before speaking again.

“Not now of course. Your a busy woman, lobbying for your…clients takes up time no doubt. It’s an offer I’d like you to think on. I can’t offer the riches of some of your clients, not yet at least, but I can offer so much more.” She said, standing from behind the desk as she did and moving around it, picking up her blaster and slipping it back into her holster as she did.

“Think on it. I’ll visit again and I’ll expect an answer,” She said, a sense of finality entering her voice as she walked away from the woman before nonchalantly opening the offices door, and leaving.

[Miekzhemy]

(co-written w/ Krugmar)

Kedoa Nissah

---

Coruscant - The Underbelly

She had been descending from the Uppers for what felt like hours.

Judging by the thin layer of smog that hung in the stuffy, moisture-trapped air, she was likely close to a kilometer beneath the surface of Coruscant. It was around this depth that even natural sunlight stood no chance of shining through the massive cityscape above. Instead, it was a gloomy realm of artificial light that illuminated the rows of seedy, closely packed-together buildings and streets. These streets were packed with all sorts of strange characters and creatures, further indicative of the underworld's long-standing tradition of housing vagabonds, criminals, and outcasts from all walks of life and from all corners of the Galaxy. It was a peculiar thing. At the very heart of the mighty Galactic Republic, so many troublemakers lived beneath the Senate's nose, their illicit businesses unmolested by the law.

Kedoa stood perched atop a streetlight jutting out from the side of a run-down tenement building, having spent the past minute or two catching her breath. She was beginning to regret venturing down here without a speeder. Thankfully, this particular sector was a relatively tame one - so tame in fact that the Judicials saw no issue with journeying down this far to simply apprehend a suspect. The Zabrak looked to her datapad on her bracer, double checking the coordinates. Across the street stood another tenement: Villmud's residence. She rose to her feet, and leapt from the streetlight.

She used the Force to float harmlessly to the ground in front of the massive building. There were visible cracks in the ancient structure's concrete walls - jagged fractures that snaked their way from ground level in unusual patterns all the way to the roof. Most of the windows had been boarded up, likely broken and never replaced over the years. As she entered the building, Kedoa tugged down the length of cloth she had wrapped around her mouth and nose on her way down from the Uppers. At this depth, whatever lingered in the air outside was probably toxic to some degree. She checked the coordinates of Villmud's residence again. Fourteenth floor.

More walking. Great...

If there had been a large Judicial presence here, there no longer was. As Kedoa would make her way to the fourteenth floor she would likely be alarmed at the lack of security. By the time he arrived she would realise why, the investigation was done.

Two Judicials in the hallway momentarily halted her as she entered, before quickly realising what Order she belonged to. They took her to see the man in charge of the investigation, Corporal Race Grene.

"Ah, we got a message from Lieutenant Blon that Jedi might be arriving. I would say you're too late, but we've found nothing of note in the apartment. No sign of Villmud or his accomplice having returned here. I've sent my troops to search the local area, see if they can't find anything, if they do I'll let you..." He said, trailing off as a datapad on his wrist began bleeping. He took a few moments to read it, and then re-read it.

"I think you'll want to come with me."

=======================================================

It was not far from the apartment complex, an alleyway used largely for garbage disposal for a number of blocks. Two Judicials were there when the Corporal and Kedoa arrived, staring into an open canister which was marked with the same logo as the apartment complex.

Inside were two bodies, one fitting the exact image of Isstrev Villmud, and the other likely his accomplice. Upon further inspection they had both been killed by shots to the back of the head, precise and instant. They would need to be quickly taken to a mortician to glean any further information. Either way, the Jedi took a long moment to look upon the two corpses, regarding them with a mix of disgust and irritation. Kedoa slowly crossed one arm over the other, letting out a sigh through her nose. Their despicable crimes notwithstanding, she reasoned the two were likely no more than pawns in a much grander plan. Clearly someone didn't want to risk leaving any loose ends untied. How messy. How vulgar.

How efficient...

"Well, isn't that just wonderful," she mused, seemingly to herself. Somehow she was now wishing Master Lonwin were here. He could trace these to a killer in no time at all.

But she couldn't help but believe there had to be something. A friend, a co-worker...something that may tie one of these two to whoever gave them their orders. Kedoa looked to the Corporal.

"I'd like to search the apartment myself," she said flatly, telling rather than requesting. "...and turn that entire blasted room on its head if I have to. You and yours can handle the bodies, yes?"

"Yes, we'll get them ready for examination as quickly as possible. Good luck Master Jedi." The Corporal replied, turning and waving his hand to order his Judicials to pick up the bodies.

He spoke into an earpiece, "Bring the speeder around, two bodies in need of removal ASAP."

Kedoa simply returned a nod to the officer, before turning to march purposefully back from whence she came.

"Not quite Master..." she muttered to herself.

"Not yet."

[Sivio]

Coruscant
Outside the Jedi Temple

There's been quite a bit a foot traffic the past few days since I got here, Leo thought to himself. More than there has ever been. Something happened, other than Vane's death that is. This is a risky move, but I need to get into the archives of the Jedi Temple. The former Jedi moved swiftly, keeping both his mask and cloak on. If someone did stop him, he could at least try to act he belonged here. Even then, however, it's been two decades since he last set foot on this temple. If I remember correctly, there might still be some scanners and/or video feed at the entrance. So even if I do get passed the Young Ones, I might still get recognized. Here's hoping that my old friend isn't around right now.

Rahel set foot on the northern path to the northern entrance of the temple and took off his mask. The sun was high up above. High noon, he thought. Risky move, considering the traffic. He vaguely remembered that the northern entrance was for non-Jedi visitors. As he walked, he counted four to five Padawans guarding the entrance.Even if they become hostile, they won't be a match, he thought. Of course, I don't want to hurt or kill them either. He continued walking down the path, calm, collected, and unscathed. He masked his presence from the Young Padawans as he walked by them.

I'll never be able to access the Archives normally, Leo thought. The Jedi do like keeping their secrets. I need to find a way in. Perhaps I can try to find Aayuh somehow. Then again, this is only open to the general public. The man walked around, making sure to mask his own presence and making sure nobody suspects anything from him. Rahel had to scout out area and look for any possible openings to the rest of the temple from here. Personally, he hated spaces that were too small, but when Leo saw a vent, he knew he had a feeling. I need a distraction. He saw some children running around the place. Subtly influencing them, Leo went up to them. "I need some help," he whispered to them. "Why don't you go over there, cause some trouble, and have fun?"

[Transoxthraxia]

Somewhere in the Coruscant Underlevels,
A few days ago

Izau had spent almost her entire childhood in the Coruscant underworld. But when she had come back to the planet, it felt more alien than any of the worlds she had visited as a smuggler in the mid-rim and beyond. The small, tight, cramped spaces and apartments of the ecumenopolis planet never really appealed to her, who generally disliked reminders of being trapped on starships deep in the black of space. Truth be told, she only ever really stomached starships by the promise of adventure and exploration - or if she was piloting them. At least that way she felt as if she was in control of where she was going.

Nothing about the very small, very cramped Coruscant apartment made her feel in control. Not even the fact that she had her well-worn A280 rifle across her lap, nor the restrained human sitting across from her made her feel any better. Izau sat on a table, one of the few pieces of furnishing visible, apart from a bed and a very basic kitchen unit. She had one leg crossed over the other, and was bouncing it slightly. Silence permeated the entire room, except for her captive's occasional whimper. Her armour had disguised her identity, but she couldn't help but feel naked. The abduction had gone relatively well. It's easy to kidnap someone unnoticed in the bustle of the Underlevels. But she was now in limbo. The man in front of her had a family - a wife and a kid - and she had no clue when the pair would be back.

She was waiting on the all-clear from her partner, Miria, who was surveying the exterior of the apartment. The man in front of her swore up and down that the two wouldn't be coming back any time soon, but the last thing that Izau wanted was a familial casualty or two to protect her operation. Besides, killing kids was bad for business. Not that Izau would. Probably. A crackle snapped her out of her thoughts. "It's all clear here, I don't see anyone coming", Miria's recognizable, stern voice radioed in from the other side.

"Thanks," Izau said. "I'll be just a few moments."

She uncrossed her legs and pushed herself off the table, catching her blaster in one hand as it fell from her lap. Some more whimpering was heard from her target, his mouth gagged and hands bound. He was sat in a chair, immobilized, but he couldn't help but recoil as the armoured bounty hunter approached him. "Know why I'm here?" Izau asked, her voice distorted by her armour's modulator. Unfortunately, no response seemed to be forthcoming from her target. She crouched down a bit, resting on the balls of her feet, and looked him in the eye. "Come on, man, neither of us have all day," she started. She gently, almost playfully, slapped his cheek. "I need those tapes", Izau continued. She wasn't really comfortable with how scared the man looked, but she knew that it'd be her in another chair if she didn't get them. She gently removed his gag. "So, where are they?"

The man shook his head, sweat covering his face. Behind her mask, Izau rolled her eyes. Bargaining with mortality was one of the best ways to get someone talking. Normally she hated it, but Izau felt as if she didn't really have the time - nor could she risk any other approach. Tiasha had made it abundantly clear that this was a do-or-die mission. She straddled him, bringing her armoured face close to his. Drawing her vibroblade from its sheath on her ankle, she placed it gently on his neck, forcefully craning his head with her other hand. "Come on, come on..." she said, almost struggling with his strength. "Careful, last thing you'd wanna do is lean to close to this. Neither of us really want that, yeah?"

A meek nod from her captive followed.

"Good!", Izau suddenly exclaimed, making the man wince. "I'll ask again. The tapes. The recordings. Whatever-the-hell you call them. I need them."

"I have n-no clue w-what-"

"Eh, let's skip past that. I know who you are, I know what you have, and I need it. Who're you protecting?"

"T-they all... they're all gone now. I was trying to get information on them, and they're all dead."

Izau raised an eyebrow behind her armoured façade. "Hey, you give me what I'm after, and you're good. Nothing to worry about. Whoever came to kill them, won't want you, since you don't have anything for them, right?"

---

The relatively one-sided conversation went back and forth for some time, but the man eventually gave up what Izau needed. She felt relieved as she left the apartment, but couldn't shake a bad taste that was in her mouth. Miria met her outside, and the two hurried to a rented speeder. "You got what we came for?" she asked the Twi'lek.

"Yeah, it's here. Poor guy, nearly wet himself. He was really scared."

Miria chuckled. "I can't picture you being that scary", she said.

If Izau hadn't been wearing her mask, Dells would've seen her scowl. "Wasn't like that. He wasn't scared of me. Something shook him. Apparently, whatever - or whoever - is on this tape is now gone. Dead."

"So? They probably were a bunch of scumbags." Miria responded.

Izau scoffed. "Doesn't matter, Dells, who killed them?"

"Not really my problem," her friend said. "Nor yours", she continued, as the pair arrived at their speeder. She climbed in quickly, and Izau followed. "Come on. We'll give this to your boss, and then we'll get a couple of drinks."

Izau didn't respond, but nodded complacently.

[Ormata]

Cowritten with Bentus

Urke Qunaalac Kuarrga
Tiasha Nuvonn
Coruscant

Brushing aside the Kel Dor's concern, even though she still looked to be somewhat flustered by her encounter with Urke, Tiasha studied Aszo's masked features. While she had always found that his kind appeared expressionless behind their respirators, Aszo in particular looked like he may have been a statue molded into the likeness of life.

"Your Lord filled in most of the blanks." Tiasha replied simply, offering Aszo an appreciative smile. "I wager that he will respond more positively to results than platitudes, though." Still, part of her was concerned by the vagueness of the Hutt's instructions. Securing the position that the Families held with regards to the Republic could mean very different things for different people. It did mean very different things for different people.

"How public does he wish for this effort to be?" She added. "His arrival was hardly subtle, so I presume that he at least expects us to make his position clear at the outset of negotiations?"

•••

He sat stock-still, waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to study him. Aszo could feel her gaze on him, picking him apart for greater details, watching carefully. It was nearly unnerving, though of course was to be expected. He breathed in and out, in and out, calming himself. The task was easier than he thought, aided of course by the Kel Dor’s concentration on her words. She was...curious. That was the sense he gleaned, that she was curious on what precisely was expected of her. That was sensible, a good question for the entirety of the matter.

“He responds positively to results,” confirmed the Kel Dor in dulcet tones, “results please him. Especially timely ones. Despite how it might appear, this plan has been in the works for some time. It merely required the correct moment to begin and, well...the Military Creation Act provides this. At least, those are the beliefs of the Grand Council. As for how public he desires this to be...that is by your discretion. Some groups may feel the need to keep such meetings and talks private. Few will be willing to contemplate allegiances openly at this time. His position on the matter can be made clear, however.”

“Lord Urke feels that the convincing of the Senate in general will require first demonstrations that the Hutts are beyond the stereotypes commonly associated with them. This is likely the largest hurdle we will have to overcome. To this goal, on our end we will be...uprooting the more distasteful Hutts and employees, people who have no place in legitimate times. It’s not a quick process, but one that will have to be started now. Likewise, the various factions in the Senate will have to be placated by different means. The Militarists will, I suspect, be satisfied with assurances that the Hutts have neither a want nor really a capacity to construct large war fleets. It’s simply not in the Hutts’ interests to do so. Allowances for the Republic to perform periodic reviews of our vessels and locks on the hyperdrives for especially large vessels might have to be made, but are acceptable. The Corporatists will want to keep their hunting grounds, potentially opening up more areas to exploit. Taxation on their…investments would be less than the Republic standard, and we would promise to cut down on any piracy within Hutt space to...encourage their cooperation. The Pacifists will...likely not support our action in any case, though if you have any indications on how to move them I am all ears. Those Senators who are not aligned will be swayed one way or another by our arguments and promises to the two major blocs.”

Pa Aszo took a long breath as he finished his speech. “I understand there have been recent bombings, a...hospital that was hit. A tragedy, truly. What has this, and it’s investigation, produced?”

•••

Tiasha listened to Aszo's response carefully, mentally beginning to piece together an early framework for what her initial moves may be. She appreciated some of his efforts to clarify his master's instructions and ambitions. Having a clearer framework for the Hutt's ambitions went a long way towards helping her to define their goals, as well as how she could go about achieving them. But she pursed her lips as the Kel Dor seemed to immediately double back on himself. In one breath, he said that the publicity of their efforts would be left up to her, while insisting that Urke wished to use presumably public demonstrations to shift the public opinion of his kind.

They don't know what they want. Not really. Tiasha recognised, although she'd suspected it from the start. Urke had a goal: an ambition. But he seemed to be as unclear on the details as her. That in itself wasn't a problem. All great plans initially start out as a mostly clean slate with more questions than answers. But going off of how defensive Urke had reacted when Tiasha had tried to question and discuss the fuzzier aspects of his instructions, she worried that they may be forced to not start with much of a plan at all.

"Mercy's Own was the target." Tiasha replied, filing away her own thoughts for later. "The Jedi Order and the Judicial Officers have both been conducting investigations, although they are both still in their early phases from what I can tell. Regardless, it has certainly shifted the political landscape surrounding the Military Creation Act. It's all but guaranteed its passage in some form, and I suspect that the militarists will be riding the wave of public support for as long as they can."

•••

“I...I see.” Pa Aszo paused, closing his eyes and pinching at the area which could only be called the bridge of his nose. A hospital had been bombed, large portions of the patients and nurses dead, and he’d asked what it had produced. It had produced dead. It had produced misery. It had produced questions. A wave of cold, uncomfortable shame washed over his mind, over his head and soul, and the Kel Dor took in a deep breath. He’d spent too much time with the Hutt being influenced by him, not the other way around as he’d intended. It was a far cry from his manner before, a far, far cry. It wasn’t the question he’d intended, not the way he’d intended to ask it, yet...the cold, callous nature of questions Hutts ask and Hutts answer had emerged.

He felt that shame, swallowing it. It hadn’t been what he’d intended to ask, no, but...it had been answered. The man needed to concentrate on that, to not...not waste time or information. It’d be weak and…disrespectful, that was the word. It would be disrespectful both towards Nuvonn and to the blessed dead.

The Jedi and the Judicial Forces were conducting their investigations...plural. They weren’t trusting each-other then, if that were the case. It would be far more efficient for them to collaborate, to share information and leads, and yet they weren’t. A wedge had been driven between them...well, of course it had. It was only natural that the Jedi would distrust their apparent successors as guardians of the Republic, of peace, of order. They also hadn’t uncovered any leads, though all things considered Pa Aszo wasn’t surprised. Hunting terrorists sometimes took years, especially if they were good ones. The action had also altered public perception...and the perception of the Senate.

They were afraid. They wanted protectors. Doubts began to take root, questions in the Kel Dor’s mind. Was it the correct time to begin independence? Would it provide the Hutts the impetus to act with some measure of justice, to raise their populations out from slavery? The chaos...might be enough to begin a trade war. Might. If that happened, everything was in jeopardy. Then again, though, that was more than likely the plan. He shuddered inwardly at the thought before salving his own worries as the being rummaged about briefly in a pocket.

“If you’re not involved in the efforts there, to raise money or provide...please be involved, Ms Nuvonn,” he murmured, placing a stack of credit chits on the table and gently sliding the stack towards her with a finger. It was something totally half his yearly salary, something only slightly off put by how little the Kel Dor actually spent...and by precisely how little he was paid in comparison to giants of industry or politicians. “My contribution to the dead and the living. In my name, if you would be so kind.”

Pa Aszo shifted in his seat, interlacing his fingers yet again to become that still statue. He’s already shown enough weakness to provide for far, far too many questions that the woman might attempt to answer. Doubtless she already had numerous questions. Now just came that question, a bit more knowledge on what precisely Tiasha Nuvonn was up to at the moment and how it might affect the proceedings. The Kel Dor had little doubt she was engaged in some venture or another, and if anything at all came to light...it had to be clean. It had to be sanitary for the public’s view...they would attract attention and attention means noses where they don’t belong and ears into the air. It meant watching one’s step. He needed to know what might jeopardize those proceedings...and what could be used to further their hold. Pa Aszo had little belief that she’d tell everything but...she would tell enough of it to have use. Besides, a lack of assets named and questions might arise. She was playing a game.

“Your ongoing operations and...immediately available assets. What are they.”

•••

Surprised to see the emotion mar Pa Aszo's features, Tiasha kept her immediate thoughts on his pleas for her to help him donate to the relief efforts to herself. She studied the man's expression for a moment, as if trying to determine from his masked visage whether his concern was real. If it wasn't, she wasn't sure what he was hoping to get out of the display: some kind of sick amusement, perhaps?

But no, the tone in his voice told her that he meant every word.

"I'm sure that I could find a charity willing to match your donation." She said, taking the credit chit. "It should go further, that way." Otherwise, Tiasha kept her opinions on the display of altruism close to her chest, her largely neutral tone unchanged from any other kind of business exchange.

"Beyond my work lobbying the senate and interfacing with local businesses on behalf of Clan Desilijic, Lord Yinnam also charges me with keeping tabs on some of his less savory associates." Tiasha replied to Pa Aszo's follow-up question, easily sliding between the topics.

Her response was vague, and she met the alien's gaze. Even if the Hutts were united behind the Council, each Family and Cartel still had to keep their competitors at arm's reach. Tiasha couldn't just hand over a list of all of her contacts and activities, it would be foolish and potentially a death sentence. She had little doubt that her counterpart already understood that from his own experiences with the Hutts.

"But, I'll put you in touch with one Izauwh'dema." Tiasha continued before Pa Aszo could cut her off, the pronunciation of the Twi'lek name rolling off her tongue. "Though you may find more details on her under the name Izauwh Dema. She's proven herself reliable for a range of different jobs: bounty hunting and smuggling, in particular. If your master needs something done in person, she'll likely be able to help."

•••

Another pause as Pa Aszo quickly processed what she had said. If he was anything other than what he was, perhaps a nodding of the head would be an order, a tapping of fingers on the table, something of that nature. But he was not any of those things. He kept himself still, composed, mulling over how she had responded to his charity, how she had responded to his question. There was that tiniest narrowing of the eyes as he’d proffered up the donation, that slightest bit of surprise against it. Tiasha hadn’t realized he had a heart...that could be good, could be bad. It helped him in some ways and yet...and yet he desperately hated the idea of others taking him to be a heartless, cruel person. It was something which he grew uncomfortable with.

When asked for resources, she gave but one name. That was useful, true, considering the five names Pa Aszo had collected hadn’t really been collected in the light of day and the proper, honest introduction would move them off into a working relationship right from the beginning. Nevertheless, it was only one name. She was keeping her operations close to her chest. It was a pity, surely a pity, but...it was something that could be remedied later. He looked forward to working with this Izauwh’dema, this Izauwh. She was Twi’lek, that’s what he gathered from the name, and a Twi’lek who was performing bounty hunting and smuggling was truly a Twi’lek worth knowing. Besides that...a Twi’lek in such unsavory business involved with the Hutts was likely one with no consciousness, no sense of brotherhood with her fellows in bondage...or was not in it by choice. He put a mental tab there as something to look into.

“Thank you for your time, Ms Nuvonn. I look forward to working with you.” And so, he stood, they shook hands, and Pa Aszo disembarked the skiff to begin his work on the other matters.

[Revlona]

Coop Between Revlona, GCCS, and Krugmar

Grand Convocation Chamber
Galactic Senate Building
Coruscant
3 PM | 3.6.2.976 RE

Zaan sat at his desk, rifling through some papers. His Executive Aide Jamilhar Vex stood to his right side, collecting and collating the documents he passed over. Though the bombing was fresh in the memory, the excitement of the past few days had finally begun to die down. Now hit most the realisation that it would take months of investigation before any sort of conclusion could be reached, though whether it would be a satisfactory one remained to be seen.

Zaan was glad to have some peace and quiet returned. His focus was now on ensuring that the Military Creation Act passed. Tomorrow it would go before the Committee. He had been informed that the process would likely only take a single day, all the factions had prepared their own amendments. Trying to nullify them at that stage would be a wasteful and foolish endeavour, he would kill any disarming amendments during the Third Reading.

To do that he would now deploy a special weapon, one he did not have before the tragic bombing.

Any moment now the young Hero of Coruscant would arrive, likely accompanied by her father, a Lieutenant-Commander in the Judicial Forces.

Asana stopped outside the doors of the supreme chancellors office, she was nervous thought it barely showed. It wasn’t everyday you met the current most powerful man in the galaxy, especially on the cusp of the recent success her plans had caused.

“Does this look ok?” She said for perhaps the hundredth time, looking up and to her right as she said it, the question directed at her father.

She wore the uniform of her Academy in all its glorious black, red, and gold. Upon her chest over her left breast was a polished medal given to her by the dean of students, Eric Grevis. A former colonel in a PMC. It had been his own medal oh heroism and in a rather extravagant ceremony that had welcomed their local hero back to the school, he had gifted it to her.

"You look stunning, darling" Rendor answered after a sideways glance. He closed his eyes and focussed on his own dress uniform; his mind wandered around it, feeling for anything that was not perfectly in line with the Judicial Dress Code. He exerted his will over a single errant button whose thread had loosened just enough for it to bother him, and some dust that had settled on his golden lapels he mentally brushed off. Finally, he took hold of the blade handle on his ceremonial rapier with his gloved hand, and pulled it out slightly; both the blade and its gilded sheath were shimmering.

"If you saw a chance to mention my record in the Outer Rim, you would be a star. I don't think there are many Judicial Officers on Coruscant with actual military experience"

Asana had put things into high gear, for which Rendor was incredibly thankful. Yet, it had taken him by surprise, and the careful, calculating Sith Lord was now thrust into the thick of it; he would lie if he said it did not affect his nerves at all. Strange, how he had faced down the Acklays of Felucia with less sweat than he had preparing to enter the Chancellor's Office.

"Also, try to imagine what you would change about the office" he added jokingly, distracting from his own nerves.

“Of course dad, that’s what this all about in the first place,” Asana said straightening her uniform one last time before stepping up directly to the doors which lead into the Supreme Chancellors office.

The doors swung open as she reached to touch them and she jerked her hand back, unsure as to what had happened. The simple explanation revealing itself to her as the looked at the two senatorial guards who had opened the doors from the inside at some sort of signal.

Exchanging one more look with her father, Asana hardened her resolve and banished her nerves. She was Sith, not some upjumped farm girl who had stumbled into glory, nerves would not avail her here.

“Supreme Chancellor. It’s an honor, thank you for inviting me and my father here today.” Asana said after she and her father had stopped before the chancellors desk. They and decided she would do the initial greeting as she had been the primary person invited.

Zaan stood up as his guests arrive, a warm smile appearing on his face. "No, the honour is all mine. Please sit." He said, gesturing softly towards the chairs in front of them as he also took his seat.

"I am very glad you agreed to meet with me on short notice. I am sure you are inundated with requests for your presence, and rightfully so!" He said, flashing Asana another smile.

He cleared his throat quickly, "I made sure to watch your interview, and was moved by your story. That the victims of the atrocious attack at Mercy's Own had you on the scene is a miracle, and I must personally commend your bravery. I am also heartened that you are a supporter of a strong, incorruptible state, and support my measures to strengthen and secure our republic."

He took a very short moment to consider his next words, "I would therefore like to ask you if you would be interested in speaking at the Third Reading of the Military Creation Act. I apologise for attempting to involve you in politics, but I feel that the Senators would do well to learn from someone of your calibre, who represents the future of the republic, and its future military." He asked, anxiously awaiting her, and her father's, answers.

Asanas breathing slowed for a moment as she registered what the supreme chancellor had said. It was above and beyond anything she had dared hope to have achieved through her actions at the hospital. At most and interview and a bit of public appreciation for her actions, all just a stepping stone for later. This was beyond perfect.

“I’d be beyond honored to Supreme Chancellor…however I’m not sure it’s right,” Asana finally said, looking to her father now, the uncertainty written across her face would have won her awards for performance.

“I’ve never actually fought on the front lines, I haven’t stood shoulder to shoulder with those soldiers on the front lines who would benefit from this bill. But my father has, he’s fought the pirates and slavers of this galaxy, I’m not sure it’s right for me to speak when he’s here as well..” she said, looking like the uncertain and humble hero she wanted to.

Zaan smiled, he had expected some light push-back. She was a humble girl, and clearly her training at the academy had paid off for she knew her place and duty. But now was not the time to be modest.

"Ah, I understand your concerns completely. Your father will be right beside you, and though I have been made aware of his many accomplishments, at this moment you are all anyone is talking about. To have someone having accomplished what you have at your age, saving lives at great personal risk, that is what will draw attention to what the Military Creation Act is really about." He said, giving her another modest smile.

"As I have said, you are the future of the Judicials and the soon to come military. I want the Republic to see that, the Senators to understand that. With your help they will realise the true nature of this force, one that will serve and protect all citizens of the Republic." He continued.

"But." He said, his smile fading slightly, "I realise how much I am asking of you and I am completely understanding if you should like to refuse. If so your presence in the gallery would be more than enough I think."

Rendor's heart stopped as he walked into the Chancellor's office. He had seen it in pictures, of course, but he had never before set foot in it. The photographs on the news, the background in official statements, and the floor plans that Rendor by now knew by heart, did not do it justice. It _breated_ authority, even if it was not yet modelled for that purpose to its fullest extent. Everything, the smell of the old, dignified furniture, the cozy warmth, the total silence of the best sound-proofed room in the galaxy...

Seeing Jamilhar Vex was sure to sour Rendor's mood, however. The two had only met once before, and that was when Vex had stripped him of his responsibility over the attack on the Chancellor's life. Something was not right about him; he was engaged in some scheme or other, and above being shoved aside without much pomp or circumstance, Rendor despised not knowing what the Executive Aide was up to. As Zaan and Asana exchanged pleasantries, Rendor attempted to dig into Vex' feelings, using the Force to bore deep within his desires, or as deep as it would allow him without starting at the aide for too long.

"It's not my place, I feel, to influence you in your decision, darling" Rendor said, with the tone of wise, relaxed authority that came so natural to him.

"But that also means that you can take credit for things that are totally your own. What you did probably saved more people than my whole Felucia campaign five times over"

He smiled softly, looking down at his feet.

"And I am sure that they won't be the last, the Force willing"

While much of it was well-performed modesty theatre, Darth Imperatus really meant what he told Pretiosa. Her energy and ambition, as well as her talent, were the beginning of a blaze that, in time, would consume the wole galaxy, if given proper instruction and education.

"Might I just say, sir, that I am looking forward to the acceptance of the bill. From what I have seen in the Rim, the Republic truly needs a dedicated fighting force. I hope you know it has the support of my brothers and sisters... My colleagues in the field, sir" he added.

"The strategic capabilities in particular will end many simmering conflicts before they start"

“If, if that is how you both feel then I guess I have no reason to refuse,” Asana said, trying her best not to roll her eyes at the false humility she had been forcing herself to use.

“At which point during the third reading will I come on exactly? And…” She said, pausing for several seconds as if in thought before continuing, “If I can may be blunt, will I be free to say what I wish in regards to supporting the act. Or do you intend to provide what you wish to be said?” She finished.

She was curious what his answer would be, he could very well allow her freedom to speak how she pleased, something she hoped for, or he could play on her age and demand that she follow a script. Which he chose was up to him and she was wondered which it would be.

"It will be near the beginning." He said, moving his hand to his chin, "It will be best to deliver the killer blow before the debate begins on the amendments." He replied. His team had discussed it quite extensively, and they had agreed it would be better to frame the debate around Asana's bravery and remove breathing space for the pacifists and corporatists.

Zaan chuckled lightly, "Of course you are, I wouldn't have it any other way. Authenticity is very important, it will make it harder for the likes of the Trade Federation to manoeuvre against it with the Hero of Mercy's Own speaking freely and truly."

“Then I have no more reservations about speaking.” Asana said, satisfied with the outcome of this meeting. They had accomplished far more than she could have hoped for and had done it without leaving any suspicion for themselves.

“And if I may, it will be a pleasure to know I was helpful in passing this act. Though it will always be overshadowed by the fact that so many had to die in a vain attempt to scare us off,”

[Lotrisia]

A co-write between Miekzhemy, Transoxthraxia, and Lotrisia

Coruscant system
Federal District Arcology
Mercy's Own Hospital


Patrol speeders thundered overhead, a lightshow of flashes streaking across the clear night sky. The crime scene below them, harsh searchlights blasting the scene of the Mercy's Own bombing, throwing confused shadows and sharp glare over the wreckage. Investigators, paramedics, volunteers and the occasional Jedi hurried to and fro, their movement less a ballet and more a swarm of the sleep-deprived. Two such Jedi, making their way over to the Central Control tent, tried their best to cut a path through the crowd without disrupting the work being done. The path this necessitated was almost tortuous, doubling the distance they needed to travel to reach their destination. Had the elder of those two been a Jedi who had an interest in being more serious, the journey may have been passed in terse silence. Perhaps unfortunately for the young Padawn Sidiyo, however, her companion was Master Galyrand Lonwin, one of the least serious Masters of the Order. Master Lonwin liked to chat when he was under stress.

Master Lonwin was under a lot of stress indeed.

When Shidiyo Cuza had woken up that morning, she hadn't expected that she was to be dragged to a war zone, witness her master practice healing on grievously-wounded civilians, or witness first-hand the fallout from a devastating terrorist attack. However, such things were the life of a Padawan in the Jedi Order - she was to be loyal to her master, and learn from her as much as possible. Understandably so, Cuza was both anxious and feeling overwhelmed.

She tried to suppress the feelings of insecurity and anxiety, and usually she was effective in doing so, but after Zad had asked the teen to accompany Master Lonwin to the command tent, Cuza was unable to compartmentalise her emotions, and anxiety ran wild over her psyche as she and Lonwin marched to the command tent.

She tried to push the images of wounded and dead bodies out of her mind, though she was only partially effective in doing so. The only thing she felt like doing was sitting down and meditating - she wished that she was back in the Temple, receiving "boring" lessons from her master.

As the pair walked, she trailed slightly behind the eccentric master. In many ways, Lonwin was everything Zad wasn't. Expressive, emotive, and, on occasion, warm. He was talkative, and one might even say passionate in his interests. However, he was certainly prone to odd behaviour.

At present, Lonwin seemed to be talking to himself, relatively unaware of Shidiyo, who followed about two or three feet behind him. The young Jedi tried to compose herself, to no avail. If Master Zad was with the pair, perhaps she would be able to be honest about how she was feeling, so that Zad could help her center herself and guide her feelings. But, despite working with Lonwin before, she didn't feel comfortable telling him how she felt. She didn't want to seem weak personally, and she didn't want to embarrass her master. So, for the time being, Shidiyo decided instead to try and distract herself by talking to Lonwin. He seemed to be in the middle of a tangent from a tangent, but that didn't stop the Padawan. When she finally got an opportunity, she quickly - but politely - interrupted Master Lonwin. "Master," she asked, "What is your favourite topic to study in the Archives?"

Shidiyo was hoping for some sort of distraction from everything that was going on around them.

Despite the circumstances, a grin grew across Lonwin's face. Truth was, he'd been hoping for some distraction. His habit of running his mouth when tired or anxious was usually a telltale to his closer friends that something was wrong, but in his current company no one would know to talk to him about it, leaving him a walking fountain of random remarks and tidbits until he exhausted himself. He could feel the anxiety flowing off of Shidiyo in waves. She didn't do a very good job of hiding it, but considering the circumstances, he held no judgement. He'd made a conscious effort to steer their path well away from the bodies, but he knew the poor Padawan's eyes were just as drawn to them as his were. Perhaps some distraction would do them both good.

"Oh, a little bit of this and a little bit of that. If I'm reading in my own spare time I read quite widely. If you're wondering what I'm focusing on right now, I've been writing a big thesis paper on the effects of wars on schisms in the Jedi Order, so most of my research has been going into that one. Some, er, rather concerning potential findings on that one so far."

He paused for a second, wondering how much of that would be wise to reveal to the young Padawan, who was already on edge as it is. Ah, bugger it. He'd said too much to stop talking now. It'd keep her mind off the bodies they were passing anyway.

Shidiyo could tell that Lonwin was reading her like a book - something that bothered her. Granted, a master seeing right through her attempts at quieting her own emotions wasn't unheard of, or even unusual, but she felt that a Jedi was to be more stoic in situations like this than she currently felt. And that only made her more flustered.

Luckily, Lonwin didn't seem like the judgmental type. The pair had worked together before, but she had never really talked much with him. At least it seemed that he had taken her conversational bait. He started talking about some study that had been interesting him. Shidiyo had, unusually, listened quite closely to what he was saying. Indeed, it felt as if every word that came from his mouth, no matter how disinterested she'd normally be with it, was fascinating. Or, at least, that's how she made herself feel.

"Sure," she began. "I'd love to hear more." She nodded quickly, but she wasn't even sure if Lonwin was looking back at her to see. Wars and schisms in the Jedi Order were hardly a new concept to the storied organization, but truth be told, Shidiyo knew next to nothing about them. Zad tended to focus more on the present, and more on the personal, rather than grand historical tales. "What do you mean by concerning findings, master?"

Lonwin spoke louder, trying to keep Shidiyo's attention on his voice instead of the bloodstained ground they were walking past.

"Well, it's mostly just a pattern that I saw cropping up with the timing of major schisms in the Jedi Order. They were all related to large wars of some kind, you see. Revan cropping up in the middle of the Mandalorian Wars would be an example. That much was kind of understandable, the Order tends to get put under a lot of strain during long wars. That much death unsettles lots of Jedi, makes smaller ideological conflicts become bigger because everyone's under strain from the, er, suffering, that's surrounding them. Anyway, that wasn't the interesting bit. The interesting part is that some schisms linked to wars actually precede the wars that cause them! Every time a schism happens in peacetime for the Order, it's a short few years until a major war starts, often for reasons entirely unrelated to the Jedi!"

Lonwin got momentarily excited at that. His face then slipped into an altogether more serious expression.

"It seems, as far as we've been able to tell, to be a result of our abilities of precognition. The suffering caused by the war in the future actually affects the present, which has some interesting implications, though those are obviously difficult to explore. Naturally, it's difficult to prove conclusively that it's correlation and not causation, but I have my own theories. And, of course, this on its own is little more than a historical curiosity, and it's not perfect. Most of the time, the Order's at least moderately stable throughout major wars, and the schisms that do happen are generally rather inconsequential, and easily mended, either through negotiation, simple deescalation, or the leader of the movement just leaving the Order. As for the concerning part that I mentioned, well..."

The eccentric master's voice petered out for a second, and his brow furrowed deeply. He seemed lost in thought.

Lonwin's theories were surprisingly interesting to the teen. He had an interesting point - if what he was saying was indeed true. Shidiyo hadn't brushed up on her Jedi history in a little while. She knew names, and actions, like Revan, for example, but she mostly took what the Master was saying at face value.

As Lonwin petered out, he stopped before he could say what the concerning part was. Shidiyo had drawn her own conclusions about what he was saying, if indeed it was true - was the Order facing a potential schism now? And, if so, what did that mean for the future?

She suspected that this was what Lonwin was getting at, but she also knew that the man was likely many times more knowledgeable than she. Perhaps, she half-thought, half-hoped, there was some other, much less concerning aspect to things. Oftentimes Jedi were prone to overblowing even small situations. "What's the concerning part?" she asked, forgetting her manners and foregoing Lonwin's title. By this point, she was much more curious about what he was going to say than she was for decorum.

Luckily for the pair, it seemed that what Lonwin was saying did well in distracting the Padawan from everything that was going on around them.

Lonwin sighed slightly, the breath shuddering as it left him. He wasn't sure he should be telling this to a Padawan, especially since his research was currently based mostly on correlation, leaving him with no way to conclusively prove his fears for the present. He said it anyway.

"You cannot tell this to anyone, not even Zad. If word of this reaches the council they'd be furious with me, and if your master finds out about what I'm speculating about I'm not sure that she'll be very forgiving either. You get that?"

Shidiyo nodded eagerly. He'd obviously caught her attention, enough to keep her mind away from the horrors of the scene around them. That was good at least.

"Vane's ideology, and her followers, seem to be giving every sign of being a schismatic faction, and the council, for once, isn't moving to reconcile with them. It's actually trying to suppress them, as far as I've been able to tell. They're keeping information about the investigation into her death locked up as tightly as they can. As much as everyone puts on nice faces and keeps the whispering behind closed doors, it's a schism, and it's a big one too. The discontent with the council has gone far past just disagreement at this point. Massive schisms precede massive conflict, and if this one is a schism this big..."

Lonwin paused again for a second, trying to compose himself.

"It means there's a very good chance that a war coming. A big one, big enough that it's throwing the lot of us off so much that the Order's beginning to crumble. I spent my time after figuring that out desperately hoping that it would be something else, but with the Military Creation act, too many planets are starting to rumble about secession for it to be anything else. We may be about to experience so very interesting times, Padawan. And I don't think that's a good thing."

Cuza listened to every word that the Jedi Master had to say. She was surprised in how closely she was to Lonwin's theory. I guess that, when presented with the information that the master had given, it was only a natural conclusion. Shidiyo, unlike Lonwin, however, was far from an academic expert, and she didn't consider the possible fallacies of correlation or other potential issues with the thesis.

As quickly as she had felt relieved at Lonwin's conversation, she felt that relief melt away, as the Padawan was forced to consider the potential fallout of a galaxy-wide war. If Lonwin was paying attention, a frown spread on Shidiyo's face. She desperately hope that he was wrong, but she didn't think he was. She had spent much of her life at the Jedi Temple, and knew that the atmosphere there was so intense that she could basically cut it with her lightsaber.

And she felt caught in the middle of all of it - in fact, most Jedi probably did. "I, ah," she started, not knowing exactly what to say to follow-up Lonwin's big reveal. "I promise not to tell anyone." she finally uttered, nodding, trying to wipe the frown off of her face.

Suddenly, the burning hospital didn't seem so bad. Visceral, certainly, but oddly comforting when compared to the scale of a galactic war. "We have persevered in the past, though, Master Lonwin. The Jedi have been tested before, and they have proven themselves, have they not?" she asked, one part looking for reassurance and a second looking for a genuine answer. "And, ah, how far do we have to go to this control room?"

By now, Shidiyo felt as if the only thing she wanted was to think about anything else.

Lonwin felt slightly guilty about scaring the young Padawan like that. He suspected she hadn't quite processed how tentative the language he was using was, though he was quite sure of the strength of his findings. Luckily, Shidiyo seemed more focused now on the potential for war than the disaster zone around them, so he'd be bringing her back to Master Zad worried about something a bit easier to allay than the fact that they'd just walked past a row of dismembered bodies. He, on the other hand, would probably need to see a counsellor after this.

"Yes, Padawan, we've always persevered. We're here, aren't we? If we survived through everything that happened in the past, I'm sure we can survive through anything the future."

Lonwin's memory stretched back to the devastation the Light and Darkness War had wrought, and the battlefields stained white by the bones of those who fell on them. The Order had only survived that war hanging on a thread, survived by the few pacifists that had stayed at the Jedi Temple while Lord Hoth had run off to his glorious death along with most of the rest of the Order at Ruusan. At their current membership numbers, the Jedi wouldn't survive long in a high-attrition war, especially not with the explicitly pacifist bent they'd taken on. Calming, orthodox thoughts like this were the reason why Lonwin rarely shared his theories with his fellow Jedi. Perhaps it would be better to steer Shidiyo's thoughts away from the potential war on the way for the present.

"Not far now to the control room, by the way. It's that tent up ahead. Usually they position those in the middle of the affected zone, but, considering that the spot where it was planned to go is currently soaked with unburned rocket fuel, it was safer to move it here."

Lonwin paused for a moment, checking back to see that the Padawan behind him was still keeping up.

"When we go inside, I'd recommend you let me do the talking with the officer in charge. I get the feeling he's a bit tetchy at the moment, and I'd rather not annoy him any more than necessary. I'll try give you a running commentary as we do things, though. Don't be afraid to-"

Lonwin was interrupted by the crack of a small explosion, as HAZMAT disposal teams burned off some of the leftover fuel from the tanker. He paused for a second, then restarted.

"As I was saying, don't be afraid to ask me questions if you're confused about something. I'm supposed to be showing you the ropes here, and I'm afraid I might not be terribly good at that without a bit of prompting on your end. Oh, and don't worry about being seen being anxious. With the current circumstances, everybody is, and nobody's going to pass judgement on you if it gets a bit overwhelming."

Lonwin tried to give her a reassuring smile as they approached the control centre. If what he'd heard about the officer in command was correct, this little visit could get very interesting, very quickly

Shidiyo nodded along with what Lonwin had said, feeling somewhat reassured with what the Master had been saying to her. However, she couldn't help but feel at least a little unsettled with what conclusions she - and Lonwin - had come to. Good practice for emotional suppression, she thought to herself. However, before she got the chance to practice, her temporary guardian began to speak to her again.

Lonwin briefly mentioned the control room, and Shidiyo nodded along to what he was saying, her mind coming back to the nature of the task at hand. As she nodded, some of her black hair fell from behind her ear where it had been tucked. She went to adjust it just as Lonwin looked back. If she hadn't, perhaps she would have detected the nerves that Lonwin had felt when considering the potential for a high-attrition war and the relatively low number of Jedi that the Order boasted.

She met his gaze, her face stolid - or, at least, as close as she could get it to be. Generally, a rough replication of what Zad would have wanted. The Jedi Archivist asked the Padawan to let him do the talking, something that she was more than happy to let him do. As he spoke, a small explosion rang out, causing Shidiyo to jump slightly and lose her composure. She looked back to see the source of the explosion - perhaps reflexively - and watched some HAZMAT responders doing their jobs.

She was encouraged to ask questions by the Master, and she promised she would. "Yes master, I will", she said, "Thank you for understanding", referencing Lonwin's mention of being overwhelmed. As the two neared the command tent, Shidiyo quickly got a transmission from Master Zad informing her that she's been recalled to another mission and to stick with Lonwin for however long is necessary. Shidiyo didn't quite know how she felt, being left with him - not that there was a problem with him, but that she felt a little abandoned by Zad.

Business calls, however, and Shidiyo knew that her master was, if nothing else, very dutiful. She put her communicator away, and, as Lonwin gave her a smile, she tried to return it, but it felt forced. This is what being a Jedi is all about, Shidiyo reminded herself. Game time.

The command centre proved to be a microcosm of the chaos that was whirling around it outside. Banks of hastily-emplaced computers and viewscreens were scattered throughout the tent, so thick that their wires had almost become a tripping hazard. The tent itself rippled in the breeze carrying across the disaster zone. Coruscant weather was mostly a case of balancing out emissions from industry, so it was tightly controlled, and relatively predictable. However, the fact that it was largely caused by economic activity meant that most meteorologists were required to have a degree in economics instead of the meteorology usually required by other planets. Storms were a rarity, but were necessary to offload excess humidity back into the cityscape's water reclamation systems. Inconvenient, but better than the alternative, which was acid rain with a high enough concentration to eat through the carbon weave these tents were built out of. Luckily, this investigation warranted enough official business that its usual scheduled rain had been offloaded to another district. The thin ventilation gaps at the tops of the tent attested to that.

As Lonwin entered, precisely zero heads turned his way. This in itself was something of a relief, but it did necessitate that he had to go try catch one of the coordinator's attention. His inquiries as to the location of Major Erevan were met with a shrug, but the coordinator he was addressing, a mousy little man with glasses that screamed middle management, pointed him to the relevant authority, in this case another coordinator who could pass him up the command chain. Naturally, with Coruscanti bureaucracy, the buck-passing game carried on for some time before they came to a stop at the woman in charge. Lonwin had been wondering why so little shouting was being thrown around an environment as charged with stress as this one. Looking at the glare on the woman ahead of him, it was a wonder that any was at all.

Lonwin turned to make sure Shidiyo was still tagging along behind him. He'd been worried that she might have gotten lost in the chaos of the control room, but to his somewhat guilty relief she was still there. He really should have taken better care to ensure that she wouldn't get lost. Time to at least have a go at being a good mentor while Zad was away, especially before the two of them were confronted with the frankly terrifying figure before them.

"You keeping up with what we're doing so far? Not too overwhelming yet, I hope."

Things were about as chaotic in the tent as they were outside of it. Shidiyo had steeled her nerves for this, and, surprisingly, she did fairly well in the crowded, jumbled tent. People seemed to be going every which way, most of them taller than the awkward teen, who spent most of her time gawking at those around her. For the time being, she completely forgot about what it meant to be a Jedi.

She slowed as she looked, falling behind Lonwin. Realising that she had almost lost her caretaker in the bustle, she quickly shook her head to clear her thoughts, reminding herself of how she should be acting, and caught up with him, just in time for the Jedi to look back to her. Lonwin quickly checked in on her, and she gave him a reassuring nod. "I'm here, Master," she said. "I'm doing okay, thank you for asking."

Most of all, Shidiyo wanted to stay out of the way and see how Lonwin was going to handle things. To her, it was a bit refreshing to see other Jedi Masters aside from Zad handle various situations. "I'll just listen here, if that's alright, master." she said, almost too quiet for Lonwin to hear.

"No problem at all, Padawan. Gimme a shout if you need anything."

Lonwin tried to smile reassuringly. He got an unsettling sense that she was judging how he handled himself. That was fine, he'd suffered more than enough judgement from the Council for his habits already. A Padawan, next to them, was small fry.

Keeping his face carefully composed, he strode over to the commanding officer. Well, acting commanding officer. According to Major Erevan, the brass that'd been roped into organising the investigation still hadn't shown up, which meant that this shining beacon of good moods in charge here was his second in command, doing the job of two on what looked like enough sleep for half. Little wonder she was in such a bad mood.

"Colonel!" Lonwin greeted rather sharply, squinting slightly to make sure he'd read her pips correctly. She turned, nearly impaling him with a glare before realising what robes he was wearing. Her glare dropped off slightly, replaced by a more considered expression. Yeah, that's right Colonel, Lonwin thought to himself with an odd sense of smugness, I technically outrank you. Luckily for him, he had the tact to keep that one to himself.

"I've been told to come to you again for instructions on how I can help. I don't suppose you have any active investigative units I can assist at the moment?"

The Colonel looked at the Jedi with a mixture of weariness and apathy, clearly her day was about to get worse. If she could muster the energy she'd make sure to find whoever sent them her way and put them on latrine duty for a week. Or maybe a month.

"Jedi? Lieutenant Blon noted he'd already talked to two Jedi, went over footage with them. Though if it's investigation you want, I'd recommend making your way to this location." She said, tapping her datapad a few times to bring up an apartment complex. "We've traced a suspect back to this apartment, Isstrev Villmud is the name. Corporal Grene should be there at the moment, probably with the other Jedi."

"Or." She said, gesturing to the chaos around her, "You can help us clear rubble and... find and identify victims of the blast. Not quite Jedi work, no whipping out your lightsabers, but it needs to be done."

Lonwin gave that very little thought, though it was often debatable whether he engaged in that time-worn activity much in the first place. Under no circumstances would he be sifting through bodies with someone else's Padawan in tow to be traumatised by it. An active arrest may not be any less gristly, but at least it'd mean he could roughly keep Shidiyo out of harm's way. An improvement, at least.

"Investigation it is then, I suspect my talents might be of further use on that front. I don't suppose that you'd-"

He was interrupted by a sharply raised hand, followed by a flurry of taps. His own datapad, usually stowed in a pocket sown on the inside of his robe, warbled slightly. Peering at it, it clearly displayed an apartment a considerable distance away from the scene of the crime. Trying to get me out of your hair, then Lonwin chuckled to himself. Silently, of course. She was still standing next to him, and Jedi or no he was quite convinced that she'd shoot him if he annoyed her any more.

"My thanks, Colonel. Good luck here, and may the Force be with you."

Avoiding any more speech in case he made a fool of himself, Lonwin tried to bow his head as gracefully as he could, receiving a short nod of recognition in return, before turning towards the door and striding off, Padawan in tow, checking back to make sure she was still following, but otherwise remaining silent.

Shidiyo watched, relatively calmly, as Master Lonwin talked with the Coruscanti officials. To her, most of them seemed so faceless, and yet, somehow, vaguely intimidating. Perhaps that was the nature of bureaucracy, thought Shidiyo. It was a quick foray into the command center, something that Shidiyo hadn't expected. It really felt as if the Judiciary really wanted the Jedi out of their hair. Shidiyo couldn't really blame them - at least, to some degree. They had a lot on their hands, and the last thing that they wanted was anyone butting in, telling them how to do their jobs differently - or worse, better.

She remained silent throughout the conversation, listening to the interaction between Lonwin and the colonel. She was stern, and Lonwin, while remaining cordial, was at least a little frustrated with the process. She could feel it. Shidiyo felt at least a little bit like a burden, but she tried to bury the thought. She was here to learn, after all. She repeated Lonwin's farewell to the colonel, bowing with him, though in a much less practiced manner.

Before she knew it, Lonwin was off again, turning rapidly in the other direction, leaving the command center. Shidyo followed as best she could, but the Master's steps were much larger than her own. She looked down at the floor, her head lost in no thoughts in particular, and barely had time to realise that Lonwin had stopped right in front of her. She quickly sidestepped, just avoiding a collision with her senior. She could tell that Lonwin was up to no good.

They'd started across the row of tents before Lonwin stopped in his tracks. Shidiyo, who had been following behind him rather silently, very nearly crashed into his back as a result of the unexpected halt. Lonwin narrowed his eyes at his datapad, then looked up at the lot of speeders ahead of them. A marked cargo hauler stood with its door open, close to the front of the clutter of vehicles. A slightly impish smile spread across his face.

"I have no idea how you're feeling, but it's an awful long way to this apartment, and I'm far too tired to want to go there on foot. Say, Padawan, how do you feel about borrowing one of those cargo speeders. Just for a second."

On one hand, she knew Zad wouldn't approve. Official channels, and all that. She was, ultimately Zad's padawan, and her actions reflected her master's reputation. On the other... Lonwin was right. It was far - and not just "regular" far - this was Coruscant. Far maybe meant two miles west and ten miles down. Plus, she wanted to make a positive impression. "... sure, I think that that's fine," she said. "But I guess we can bring it back later?" she half-asked.

Lonwin grinned at her. She still looked a bit unsure, but that was to be expected. No doubt Master Zad had drilled her about the importance of "asking for permission", but frankly, that was boring. What he was about to do was technically legal, but he knew he'd get an earful from the Judicials hanging around if they realised what was happening.

"Lovely! Now, let's get in the truck, before someone figures out what we're doing and tries to stop us. Oh, and once we're off, I'd recommend that you hold onto something. I don't intend on arriving late."

A short hop, a press of a button, and the truck, a boxy thing with squared-off corners and a red paintjob that looked like the end result of a bad accident involving pedestrians, lifted off the tarmac with a little jiggle and a whisper. One of the officers assigned to look after the lot noticed the commotion and ran at them waving his arms, to no avail. Lonwin accelerated his newfound steed away, slipping across the top of the arcology and tipping down towards the Undercity below. He turned to look at Shidiyo, who was eying the drop with apprehension.

"All buckled in?"

She nodded, her face blanching a bit as she considered the drop they were sliding over the edge of.

"Brilliant. Now, let's see this puppy roar"

Lonwin slammed the throttle to full and nosed directly down, thundering from the top levels of the city toward his goal far below, laying his trust in the Force to help him avoid a crash. Despite this, they only barely avoided redecorating the truck with a fresh coat of red paint as they skimmed past an open-topped party bus. It was difficult to tell whether Lonwin's laughs were louder than Shidiyo's screams.

[Sivio]

Somewhere in the Jedi Temple

Damn, I hate tight spaces like this, Leo thought. But it was only way I could see to get in. Maybe I'm losing my touch... He shook his head and continued on his path through the vents. Not too long ago, he had subtly influenced some children into causing a distraction for him. Not doing that again unless I need to. Now... any openings near? He started looking around to make sure he hadn't missed anything, and continued on his path. The former Jedi eventually came to a branching path. He closed his eyes and focused. If I were the Archives, where do I need to go from the vents? The man decided to go to his right.

Eventually, Leo came to an opening. However, he had overheard some voices and saw some people talking. Great, he sighed. Nothing I can do about it until they leave. All he could do was hear their voices. It seems like they were talking about... some incidents that were happening recently and how that led into the Temple into being on high alert. Leo almost chuckled. High alert my ass, he thought. Managed to get passed those Padawans. The voices said goodbye and walked away from each other.

Leo opened the vent and jumped down quietly.Here's hoping they don't come back, he thought. The man moved quietly but quickly down the hall. He came to a stop and smirked. "You know, I was hoping you wouldn't be here, old friend," he said. "But then again, I knew you had to catch up to me eventually, Darryn Nord." He turned around to look at the Master Jedi.

"Then again, Leo," Nord responded, "it was pretty idiotic of you to break into the Temple, even more so if you were hoping to go unnoticed."

"No, no," Leo stated. "Just that you weren't here." He slowly walked up to his former friend. "Listen, Darryn, we both know how both the Council and most of the Order are. Join me. We both know disillusioned you've been with them."

"You know I can't leave.... yet," Darryn responded. "I'm needed here just as much as the Galaxy needs us. Plus, tamping into the Dark Side is evil; it's not worth it." Leo shook his head.

"But that's the thing, Nord," Leo said. "Evil is relative. To a mouse, a cat is evil. Besides, I never said you could learn the dark side itself. I've learned as much as a I could out there in the Galaxy about both sides of the Force. Now I need to enter the Archives."

"No, Leo," Darryn said. "You've let yourself be corrupted--"

"By what?" Leo shouted. He was getting angry now. "The Dark Side? I've learned much by exploring both sides of the Force, not just the Jedi way. I've helped people where the Jedi couldn't. Many people I have encountered have had their lives uprooted, tossed aside by those in powerful positions. Why are you unable to see that I am doing good in the Galaxy?" They both knew where this conversation would lead to, even if neither of them wanted to fight the other. In order to protect Darryn's reputation, Leo made the first move and Force pushed the Jedi Master down the hallway.

---

Sometime Earlier on the Jedi Temple
Head Security Office

"It can't be," Nord said. "He hasn't been seen in years and now he returns? Quick, rewind the north entrance. Keep going, keep going, stop." He walked up to the screen. "Zoom in on that man right there." Darryn sighed. "Yep, that's him. That's Leo Rahel." Everyone got up from their seats. They've all heard rumors or had heard Nord mention the former Jedi multiple times. "No, I'll handle this. Don't alert any of the other temple guards either." He made a quick exit to go find Leo.

[Ormata]

Urke Qunaalac Kuarrga
Coruscant

A steady rumble and passing whirr was dull, muted in the apartment. The repulsorsled rested against a tiled marble floor, the red-white-gray a vast and complex pattern which spread out from the center of the circular room in fractal style, and Urke rested upon that dais in the center of the circular room with his eyes closed. Thoughts came and went like luminescent clouds, passing by overhead to shed some light against what he truly wanted, and the Hutt considered his position as it stood. The surprise and doubt which Tiasha Nuvonn had displayed was unexpected, though it really should not have been. He was not used to such suspicion, though then again he had never quite acted in such a manner and declared such an authority. No Hutt had, not for thousands of years, and thus they had been suspicious of his manner, his authority. It was surprising...and, for some, unwelcome. Urke threaded his fingers at the thought, his eyes still closed, his breath still slow and deep.

The unwashed masses who would prefer anarchy and self-interest, who would prefer to scramble over one-another for a handful of crumbs swept from the tables of those more ordered than they...they would be uplifted, too, along with the rest. When the Old Ways were thrown aside by Budhila Hestilic Amura, he had not taken the correct lesson from such devastating civil war. He took the lesson that government was destructive, that it would be better for the Hutts that they only work in the shadows and build up their cartels, and in that lesson the Hutts had been both saved and damned. They had survived, true, survived and built up a reputation as crime lords, but they had never risen above that level. What made the Hutts incapable of governing themselves? What made them lesser than the thousands of species who could? It made no sense. No, the true lesson that Budhila should have taken was that their unity would be their strength, that competition does not need to be destruction to the countryman but could be aimed instead at the outsider. The kajidic meant "Somebody's got to have it. Why not us?" in a literal sense. Urke could not shake the implications of the us.

Something tugged at Urke’s mind though as the thoughts passed by. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he hadn’t acted correctly in that meeting. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else, something that he was missing...what was Nuvonn’s drive? What pushed her forward to work for Yinnam? He wasn’t the best employer, after all, and Urke could only uncover her origins as a noble on some world before going to Nar Shaddaa. After that the record became significantly more difficult to track and with the limited time between when her name was evidenced and when they arrived not much could be done. There were questions and while Urke had some sense that she was not the most important player in the great game of Coruscant but she was a player nonetheless and, besides...even the servants of others should be drawn to the proper ways. She was still working for Yinnam and, therefore, may prove to be an impediment to Urke’s plans. She may only half-heartedly move in the direction he wanted. No, the sooner Nuvonn was aligned to work with the Hutt the better. She would have to be looked into for more information.

For that matter, there were other players he had to consider. The various Senators would be important to the proceedings, despite Urke’s dismissal of their discussion as weakness. While they discussed a military, debated over it, the Hutts argued over having a country. It was a poor showing, that was certain, and one which lent credence to Nuvonn’s doubts over their agreement to the proposals. No, the more influential among them would have to be drawn over in more than one way. The militarists could be pacified with promises and declarations, the pacifists with Urke’s motions against slavery, and the corporatists with lax regulations and oversight, but...still. It was good to have some things be certain when it came to politics. There were several Senators who were unsavory, disgusting little creatures...Urke knew there were. Politicians were never clean. Some of the lessers he knew by their gambling debts and connections to Black Sun, Qunaalac, or other clans. Some he knew were performing certain actions but hadn’t been able to get the information about them...Tikkes was among these. Slavery had been especially profitable in his sector, Urke had noticed, and the governmental interests had been especially lax. He doubted it was mere coincidence...and it was a good place to look into. Mon Cala’s shipyards were truly magnificent.

His eyes opened as the airspeeder began to slowly rise from the landing pad outside, the noise muffled into a dull, unintrusive rumble. The irregular click-click-click of dials was one of the few sounds in the room, Siwa sitting at a far table with a backpack opened up to reveal a comms unit. A small antennae rose from the unit, extending upwards before turning into thin triangles, while wires ran from the pack to her small console, her headset, and into a building connection. A cup of caf sat at the foot of the table leg, steam slowly rising to disperse about her knees, and her head was cocked to one side as she listened. At another end, the Vodrans had begun to set their watch as one slowly moved about the room, peering out through the windows encircling them with his rifle shouldered. The Weequay had unpacked their own equipment, two light repeaters and associated packs, while searching the rooftops with electrobinoculars. He had little issue with their voyeurism; the windows were tinted and such might actually serve a purpose. The twin IGs stood at the far door away from the entrance from the landing pad.

The door opened, clean and quiet, and Pa Azso strode in to make his way over to the Sakiyan at the table. He had a name, questions, and she had a contact in Republic Customs & Immigration.

[Transoxthraxia]

Co-written between Bentus and Transoxthraxia

---

The morning light from Coruscant’s rising sun streamed in through the wall-length window, illuminating the inside of Tiasha’s office. From her desk, she could glance out to see a stunning view of the bustling city below, with a steady tide of speeders moving along the main transit routes. The electronics embedded into the glass ensured that the view was exclusively one-way, of course, to prevent any unwanted, prying eyes from trying to get a glimpse into the meetings that occurred within.

A polite knock at the door caused a brief smile to light Tiasha’s features. Ezik knew full well that the motion sensors at the door would have informed her of his arrival, but the twi'lek insisted on voicelessly announcing his presence. After a moment, Tiasha’s servant opened the door and led their guest into her presence.

“Izau, it’s good to see you.” Tiasha said, her tone friendly despite knowing that the other twi’lek had little choice in accepting her invitation. “I trust that everything went well?”

Izau strongly disliked Coruscant's overworld - even more than the underlevels. Sure, it was glitzy and glamourous, but when you realized how skin-deep everything was - and how expensive it all was - the romanticism of the galaxy's capital quickly faded away. But if she disliked one place more than anywhere else in the ecumenopolis, it was the office that she now found herself in. The entire didn't just reek of privilege, but it also served as a brutal reminder of who Izau was to those that employed her.

When she received her invitation, in actuality an order, to show up at her boss' office, she knew that it'd have to be prompt. When she was greeted by Ezik, another Twi'lek, her skin crawled.

As far as she knew the man - which is to say, barely - he seemed to be as loyal as a slave could be, acting as a bodyguard for Tiasha, and acted as a brash flaunt of slavery in the middle of the capital. It was not lost on Izau that she was only de facto one or two legal steps away from Ezik. As the pair wordlessly made their way to Tiasha's office, Izau did her best to hide her distaste for the whole situation.

Eventually, the pair got to the entrance of Tiasha's office, and Ezik knocked at the door. Izau quickly cleared her throat and put on a stone-faced mask just as Tiasha opened the door.

"It's good to see you too," Izau started. "Sorry I'm not dressed for the occasion", she joked, referencing her flight suit. "Everything went about as well as you'd think", she continued. "Guy was scared pantsless, but I got the job done" she finished.

"I'm pleased to hear it."

Tiasha replied, ignoring the other woman's tensed shoulders. She knew how much Izau hated being dragged before her, being reminded of how her past actions had chained herself to working for the Hutts - and by extension, Tiasha. Anyone with knowledge of her situation couldn't help but feel some pang of sympathy for her plight, but the galaxy had never been a fair place. And unfortunately for Izau, she was too useful for her own good.

Reaching out with an open hand, Tiasha gestured for the twi'lek to hand over her prize. After Izau gave her the data chip, she wasted no time in plugging it into the side of a portable computer sitting on her desk. The anti-malware routines took only a moment to parse the drive for any suspect code, but Tiasha was professional enough to not have just plugged the device into her primary datapad anyway. With her screen facing away from Izau, she waited for a few seconds more for a few frames of the recording to appear. Satisfied that the images were authentic, and that the drive contained what she was looking for, Tiasha closed the laptop and turned back to the hired gun.

"Very nicely done, as always. I'll be sure to add something extra to your fee for your timeliness. As well as your future discreteness about anything to do with this recording." Tiasha gestured to a seat in front of her desk. "Though there was something else I hoped to speak with you about." She glanced up towards her servant as she waited for the twi'lek to sit. "Could you get us two glasses of Alderaanian wine please, Ezik?"

Izau, after handing over the data to Tiasha, couldn't help but remind herself of how curious she had been about what was on the chip. But, it was above her pay-grade, and she had often learned the hard way that curiousity killed the Cathar. Her boss needed it, she got it, and that was where her role ended.

Izau should've been happy with that, and, for a fleeting second as the chip left her hand, she was. But thoughts of the scared man's face kept entering her head. Any potential relief for a job well done was ended when Tiasha started talking, her posh Basic sapping with faux-politeness.

She didn't even bother asking what Tiasha would "throw in" as an extra. Most of it went to her debt, anyhow. But what really worried Izau was that Tiasha mentioned that there was something else she hoped to speak about with the Twi'lek.

This was relatively unusual for Tiasha, who normally let the Twi'lek off the hook for some time before contacting her again. But if she was worried before, her anxiety quickly turned to frustration as Tiasha ordered Ezik to get the pair wine. The most minute of scowls began to tug at Izau's lips, but her decorum prevailed. Poor treatment was par for her life at this point, and it seemed exceptionally rare in her line of work that any of her kind were treated decently.

She sat down in front of Tiasha's desk, on the chair. She sunk into the material, which was somehow both somewhat malleable and still uncomfortable. "What's on your mind?" she asked, waiting for her wine.

Sensing Izau's unease, Tiasha deliberately waited for the wine to arrive before she responded. Some may have considered it cruel, but it was in her interest to make the other woman feel powerless when she made her move. She kept files on most of the mercenaries that she hired regularly, and Izau's history painted a picture of a woman desperately trying to keep her head above water. Even if she put on an air of confidence, well-deserve due to her evident skills, life had dealt her a hand that left her at the mercy of others. And right now, Tiasha needed to take advantage of that.

As Ezik arrived at the desk to place the two cups of wine in front of either woman, Tiasha offered him a courteous nod. Her gaze passed briefly over the fridge that he'd collected the alcohol from, her mind momentarily returning to when the masked figure had confronted her in the same room. Forcefully pushing aside the memory, Tiasha took a sip from her glass before she looked over the twi'lek before her.

"You've lived an interesting life, Izauwh'dema." She said, watching Izau for any reaction as she spoke. Tiasha spoke calmly and with confidence, but inwardly she was cautiously choosing her words. She needed to intimidate Izau. To make her think that she held all the cards. But if she pushed too far, then everything could be ruined. "That's quite a remarkable achievement for someone of your circumstances, considering the challenges that your mother faced before she died. It must have been hard growing up without any family."

As Tiasha sat in silence, apparently waiting to be served, Izau recognised her song and dance. She met Tiasha's gaze and raised her eyebrow, worry turning to irritation. Tiasha knew how to push her buttons, and she knew that more of it was coming. She followed Tiasha's gaze as her eyes went from Ezik to the fridge where the alcohol had come from. Something flashed behind Tiasha's eyes, but it was gone too quickly for Izau to figure out what it was.

A chink in the harpy's armour?

Izau quietly noted it. She thanked Ezik for the wine, but kept it on the desk. She listened to what Tiasha had to say. Tiasha's topic turned to the Twi'lek's family - specifically her mother. Izau worked hard to remain stoic as she listened - not for mention of her mother, but her sister. If Tiasha, and by extension, the Hutts, knew she was twins with a Jedi, she'd be toast.

Luckily, it seemed that no mention of Aayuh was forthcoming. Izau was too busy being irritated by the mention of her family to feel relieved. She leaned back on the chair, as nonchalantly as she could, and slowly placed one foot on Tiasha's desk, and then the other, crossing them. Her boots were almost perilously close to the wine she had kept on the desk. Izau crossed her arms and breathed in deeply before responding. "Can't be that unusual in your line of work", she started, not denying any of it. What would the point of that be? she thought. Izau watched Tiasha's face, trying to gauge her emotion. "I'm sure you've heard of a dozen stories like that."

Izau tried not to give any ground. As long as her sister wasn't mentioned, she couldn't help but feel as if she wouldn't be shaken.

Tiasha's gaze narrowed into a scowl as Izau's feet planted themselves on her desk. The woman's practical, well-worn boots looked as hilariously out of place in the modern office as her chosen pose. Standing back towards the room's entrance, the slightest beginning of a smirk tickled at the corner of Erik's mouth. Anyone who didn't know him as well as Tiasha did might not have even noticed the display of emotion, but she ignored it.

Grimacing as she ran her eyes over the mud-caked soles of the mercenary's shoes, Tiasha made no effort to hide the frustration from her features even as she kept her voice calm and professional. Part of her silently looked forward to knocking the unkempt woman down a peg or two. Reaching out with her pen, she applied a slight pressure to Izau's shoes as a sign for her to remove them in a timely manner from her workspace, taking care not to actually risk touching the dirtied attire. As she did so, she met the other woman's eyes.

"Except you weren't really alone, were you? You did have a family. It's just that nobody else knew about her."

Izau's eyes widened a little as Tiasha continued. How the hell did she know? the Twi'lek thought to herself. She felt her cheeks get hot. The woman's intonation was enough to imply what Izau had tried, apparently unsuccessfully, to hide. She sat up, removing her boots from Tiasha's desk, and her brow furrowed.

At this point, Tiasha was either going to kill her, or place her firmly under her control. "What do you want?" she said. Her arms had dropped from her chest, and her hands had started to nervously fidget in her lap. She tried to think about how she'd get out of the situation, but, without her weapons, she wasn't sure.

"What I don't want, is for your little secret to get out any further." Tiasha replied, a self-satisfied smile returning to her features as the other woman was caught off guard by the revelation. "It would be a shame to lose someone of your skills, and not everyone in our line of work will be as understanding of your circumstances as I am."

Even if her words could've been construed as friendly, there was a menace behind Tiasha's tone. A threat that while it'd be a shame to reveal Izau's secret, she wouldn't hesitate if it suited her self-serving needs.

"This is Urke Qunaalac." Tiasha began, handing a datapad over to Izau with an image and brief description of the Hutt on the screen. "He arrived on Coruscant not too long ago, and will likely reach out to you about potential employment in the near future. I want you to accept his offer, and keep me up to date on what he's up to. Tasks that he sets for you, anything of interest that you overhear, associates of note that you encounter: you'll tell me all of it." Tiasha shrugged, almost innocently. "And in exchange, I'll be happy to keep your secret to myself."

Izau knew that the egotistical Tiasha didn't care about Izau's secret any more than the fact that it held value in light of Izau's perceived mortality. If Izau was relieved that she knew Tiasha wasn't about to murder her for her sister's identity, she surely didn't show it.

If she was frustrated before, her lips forming into a scowl even without her noticing, Izau's mood was made worse despite Tiasha's vapid compliments. She took the datapad from Tiasha reluctantly. "You..." she started, looking at the pad. "Want me..." Izau continued, sardonically pretending not to have understood completely what was on the datapad. Looking up and meeting Tiasha in the eyes, she finished her question. "... to spy on a Hutt?"

Izau half-scoffed, half-chuckled. "So the deal is either you tell our employers about my sister, they string me up by my ankles and torture me for information before killing me," she began, sitting up. "Or, you want me to spy on this Hutt for you, then it'll find out I've been spying, and then it'll string me up by my ankles and torture me for information before killing me?"

She handed the datapad back to Tiasha. "What do you need from this Hutt so badly that you'd do something as stupid as try to spy on it?" she asked, her brow still furrowed. She didn't normally have the most polite decorum with Tiasha on the best of days, but she had dropped any manner of professionalism. Deep in the back of her head, something told Izau that Tiasha was at least a little desperate, and she was curious as to why.

"Hutts get spied on all the time. By their enemies, their friends, their competitors, even their own family. You might even say that it comes with the territory." Tiasha said, an amused smile gracing her features. "But for now I'm not asking you to even go anywhere you're not meant to. I just need someone reliable that I can use to keep tabs on this Hutt: his actions, who he associates with, anywhere he regularly travels. I'll arrange for times that we can meet without prying eyes, and you'll keep me updated on any pertinent information."

Tiasha paused, studying Izau's features before continuing. She didn't want to entirely expose her hand, especially when the other woman thought that she had so much power over her. But Izau had been enveloped in this world for long enough to know that there was something abnormal about this job. Informants and intrigue between the Hutt clans were hardly revolutionary concepts, but she'd be having questions as to why Tiasha was blackmailing her into the role. And furthermore, why her instead of someone already at least somewhat tied to the Hutt's circle? Tiasha had to offer the twi'lek something to satisfy her line of questioning. And if that failed, she could always reinforce the threat that she now had hanging over her head.
Folding her hands on her desk, Tiasha met Izau's furrowed gaze. "Alright, Izau. I admit that this arrangement isn't exactly perfect for me, either. I'm not lying when I say that I'd far rather help you bury your troublesome past behind you." Tiasha shrugged. "You're far too good at what you do, and useful for me, to allow something like that to get in the way. But unfortunately this is the hand that we've both been dealt. Urke has come to Coruscant with the intention of presenting himself as the sole representative for all of the Hutt Cartels to the Republic. He claims to be representing all of the Hutts, but only a fool would take him at his word. Clan Desilijic, and others wary of how much power he's accumulating for himself, think its best to keep a close eye on their representative. If only to make sure that he's keeping their own interests at heart."

"Mmm", Izau vocalized in a suspicious, curt tone. The woman's smile had unnerved her. She could probably count on one hand how many times she had seen her employer smile. Izau's eyes narrowed on the datapad that she had handed back, and then she looked to Tiasha. She was impossible to read at the best of times, but the Twi'lek could, deep down, sense a genuine, almost worried feeling from her. Very unusual for Tiasha, who, during their entire professional relationship, had only ever bullied, threatened, or tested Izau.

If she wasn't forced to be in the same, sinking boat that Tiasha found herself in, the Twi'lek almost could have enjoyed herself.

Almost.

But Tiasha's compliments bounced off Izau's armoured personality. She only meant what she said because she benefitted from Izau's work, which, to the Twi'lek, made them as good as ingenuine. But, with Tiasha's surprise honesty, she began to feel as if the ball was in her court.

"If I'm going to do this, I'm risking a lot", Izau started, meeting Tiasha's gaze, folding her arms again so that she'd avoid nervously fidgeting. "Any Hutt with the gall to claim authority over the others has the chutzpah, and likely the means, to burn through 'unreliable' assets regardless of their skill or history".

"What can you offer me in compensation?" she asked, raising her chin so she was looking down at Tiasha. "Hint - it's going to be more than just credits".

Tiasha's features darkened as Izau seemed to suddenly think that she wielded a say in their arrangement. She met the other woman with a cold gaze, an anger simmering behind her eyes rather than the polite sympathy that she'd previously expressed. To the back of the room, the slight smile that Ezik had been wearing as he'd watched the exchange had similarly disappeared.

"Careful, Izau. Don't make the mistake of misunderstanding your situation." Tiasha began, having dropped her efforts at a cordial tone. "You are going to do what I'm asking, because I'm not giving you another choice. What I'm offering you is my help in keeping your secret safe. And should you choose to refuse that help, then I'll make sure that everyone you've ever worked for knows that you've been associating with a jedi this entire time."

"And if you're still too foolishly stubborn to see what that might mean for your own well being, then perhaps you should think about how your sister's actions may reflect upon her." Tiasha added, pausing for a moment as she allowed her escalated threat to sink in. "From what I've heard, the Order takes a dim view of those that maintain ties with their family. I also can't imagine that the career outlook for jedi found to be secretly fraternizing with known criminals is particularly bright. Would you really be so selfish as to bring her down with you?"

This bitch, Izau thought to herself, her face contorting into silent rage. Her one hand grabbed the other and squeezed to prevent a potential outburst. She's lucky that killing her wouldn't solve my problem. If it'd change anything, she'd blow the woman away on the spot, and, indeed, she often fantasized of doing so. But even if the Hutts didn't murder her in retribution, there'd at the very least, be perhaps a half-dozen people ready to replace her the very next day.

"I'll do it", she said, almost spitting her words. "But do yourself a favour and drop this". Izau stood, placing her hands on her hips. "Cornered rats often act unpredictably."

"I'm not exactly pining for your job, but if I were, well, I've heard that the 'carrot and the stick' method is effective in getting results from employees. But you actually need a carrot. Can I go?"

"I'll keep your advice in mind." Tiasha replied, although her tone made indicated that she'd do anything but. Her attention shifted back to the work at her desk as she considered their conversation to be concluded. If the bitter retort that Izau had offered, along with the veiled threat, affected her, the lobbyist didn't let it show. "I presume that you'll be able to show yourself out? I'll be in touch."

"Thanks, that means a lot", Izau responded, voice dripping with sarcasm. She turned from Tiasha to leave, and caught a glance of Ezik. His deadpan look seemed to make Izau even angrier. She entertained the thought - if only for a second - of spitting on Tiasha's floor. Sure, it might make her feel a little better, if only for a minute, but what would it actually accomplish? It'd be petty, and just reinforce what people like Tiasha thought about her people. As she was leaving, she paused for just a second, next to Ezik.

She wanted to say something, but what? What could she possibly say to him?

She kept moving, looking back at Tiasha only briefly before leaving the office for good, frustrated and defeated.

Stealing a glance towards Izau's retreating back, Tiasha rolled her eyes before getting back to the laundry list of tasks waiting at her workstation. But despite her outwards appearance of calm composure, she was acutely aware of the risks that she was being forced to take. Things were moving more quickly than she'd expected, with Urke's arrival on Coruscant having thrown an unexpected wrench into her own plans. Fortunately, the meeting had gone about as well as she'd hoped, and she was satisfied that Izau was going to be cooperative moving forward. Having a reliable source of information was going to prove crucial in the coming weeks and months.

"Was that absolutely necessary?"

Ezik was frowning as his gaze lingered on the doorway. He'd always trusted Tiasha's decisions, and he trusted her to always make the most of a poor situation. But even so, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as he remembered the look that the other twi'lek had cast towards him as she'd departed. It was a look of pain and anger, along with a silent accusation of betrayal.

Not looking up from her work, Tiasha responded with a scoff.

"You know that it was. There's always a risk that a credit transfer could be traced, along with any other form of payment."

"I meant whether it was necessary to threaten her family." Ezik added, his tone largely emotionless.

Tiasha's fingers paused on her keyboard, her eyes glancing over to study the frown on her servant's usually impassive features. She didn't respond immediately, having started to understand why the exchange seemed to be weighing so heavily on her old friend. Eventually, a sigh escaped from her lips.

"Yes. That was necessary too." She said. "She's used to her life being in danger. So we needed to threaten her with something larger than that. We can't afford the risk of her betraying us right now, Ezik. We don't have the time."

[Transoxthraxia]

The Stalwart
Somewhere in one of Coruscant's innumerable space ports
Immediately after Izau's Conversation with Tiasha

---

The Stalwart was, more or less, where Izau and her crew lived and worked out of full-time when they were on Coruscant which, recently, meant that they were living out of the ship a lot. It wasn't exactly glorious compared to some of the glitzy, luxurious places that Coruscant offered its upper-class transients, but it was more or less free, since the crew had to pay the (exorbitant) docking and parking fees anyway. Around this time in the late morning, most of the Stalwart's four-man crew would likely be on the ship - the only potential question mark was Nell Zaltt, who seemed to come and go when he pleased.

Izau wasn't really thinking too much about this as she returned to her ship. She had borrowed a speeder to get to Tiasha's, and she had returned it to the dock as she got back, barely saying two words to the attendant as she returned it. Her brow had been furrowed essentially the entire time that she had sped back to her ship, thinking, over and over, about the venomous words Tiasha had said to her, and their significance. She could only repeat one single saying to herself: "I'm so screwed", and the phrase repeated itself ad nauseum on her trip back. Spying on a Hutt? Stupid. Getting caught with her sister? Even stupider. Without that, Tiasha couldn't have blackmailed her. Without that, she would've been able to tell the blood-sucking parasite to screw off. But she couldn't. Not now, anyways. She began the short walk from the entrance of the space port to her ship's assigned dock, but each step felt like a lifetime in her head. She considered, as she walked, running. But it's not like there were many places she could go. Tiasha and her friends would find her in the Core, the Hutts that she owed weren't too far from the Mid-Rim or the Outer Rim. Maybe Wild Space? But how'd she make a life for herself and her crew there? And it's not like Aayuh could - or would - follow her there.

She barely noticed as she took the same, practiced path to her ship, absent-mindedly waving at the attendant to the dock before climbing aboard the Stalwart using its boarding ramp. So preoccupied was she in her head that she didn't see Zaltt and the young Vass Jusci playing Dejarik in the hallway that separated the common room and the crew quarters - something she had told them not to do numerous times - as she stalked past them, Jusci waved at her to no avail. In fact, she was so lost in thought, that, when she entered her own room, she didn't even notice her First Mate, Miria Dells, laying on her bed, wearing a white tank top and olive shorts.

"Hey", Miria said, in a tone that Izau didn't want to hear. The two were in very different moods. Izau barely acknowledged her - a quick nod and curt smile - before she sat on her cot, back to Dells. She sighed, and could do little more than bury her head in her hands. "Hey", Miria said again, in a different tone - this time, much more sympathetic and understanding. Dells had propped herself up on an elbow, and gently began rubbing Izau's back. "Take it things didn't go well?" she asked gently, knowing about Izau's meeting with Tiasha.

"We're all so fucked", Izau responded. "I feel trapped. Like a slave. And that-- Tiasha--" she continued, not even bothering to find a requisite insult for her employer. "Doesn't even give me the respect of an actual person. She even has this 'employee', I bet he's a slave, a Twi'lek that she keeps around during our meetings. Her requests are so unreasonable, but I wouldn't even mind them if she gave me a modicum of respect."

Dells remained silent for a bit, nodding, trying to understand.

The silence continued, until Izau sniffed, holding back some tears.

"It's alright", Dells said, as comforting as she could be. She adjusted herself so that her arms stretched around Izau's midsection, giving her a hug, her head resting on her shoulder, looking up at Izau. It was meant to be comforting, but Izau found the gesture oddly empty, and that it achieved the exact opposite effect. Points for trying, Izau thought. "We'll figure it out", Dells continued, offering no real solution nor the feel that Izau could continue to vent her frustrations. The two remained motionless for some time, but eventually Dells sat up, moving so that she was sitting next to Izau. She began rubbing her back again, and rested her head on Izau's shoulder this time. "What can I do to make your feel better?" she asked, her tone returning to what it had been when Izau had first entered.

For perhaps a second or two, Izau had thought it a real question. She was trying to consider what would make her feel better, when a sudden pang of shock, followed by butterflies, hit her stomach. Dells had gently grabbed one of her Lekku. Izau knew exactly what her navigator was trying to do. She turned her head away so her headtail fell out of Dells' hand and she clearly indicated disinterest. Talk about tone deaf, she thought. Things had been going well between the two recently, but not this well. "Can you... can you leave? Please?" she asked of Miria.

The human raised her eyebrows in surprise, then disappointment flashed across her face. Izau heard her take a deep breath, and then sigh. "Sure", Dells said, through gritted teeth. She got up and left without another word said, and Izau's mood only got worse.

---

The Twi'lek would stay in her quarters that entire day, leaving only when necessary. As the hours on Coruscant ticked on, Izau couldn't help but indulge in a secret stash of booze that she had kept in her quarters for special occasions. As she drank and drank, she couldn't help but have her mind wander to an age before she was beholden to any Hutt - where she was free to do what she want, go where she wanted, and work for who she chose. She recalled a man from those times, about as old, perhaps a little older, as she was then. He had been quiet, self-confident. A merc she had done a job with - well, more for than with. The job had been to smuggle him onto a planet - she couldn't even remember its name - that only issued highly selective permits to non-residents. It had been tough, and extraction had been even tougher, but she had, with the help of her crew at the time, gotten the mission done.

Why had this memory entered her mind? She thought to herself. There was an odd familiarity not just to this memory, but the man who served as its focal point. His name was familiar, a murky combination of syllables and letters in the back of her head. Artan, was it?

No, the name was definitely familiar.

She sat up from lying on her bed, nearly knocking down an empty bottle of what was one alcohol, and began to do some research in her quarters' computer. It wasn't long before she realised why his name seemed so familiar. She had seen him on the news. "Crazy, crazy..." she muttered under her breath. "Small fuckin' galaxy", she said. Her drunken hands hovered over the computer's keyboard for a moment. Then she opened a search engine. In under an hour, she had found where Artan had been staying. She had his address, and his contact number. Her unfocused eyes looked at the number. Could he help?

---

When Izau awoke the next morning, aside from the fact that she had passed out on the floor next to her bed, and had a killer headache, the only thing amiss from the night before was a pair of calls to Artan's number. She almost didn't want to, but she played back the messages she had left for him. The first was a thinly veiled plea for help, asking to meet and catch up. The second, a call placed about twenty minutes later, was much less coherent. She sighed, and buried her face in her hands. Not like you can delete someone else's messages.

[Oblivion2]

Artan Mythros
MilMax Penthouse, Coruscant,
Early Morning
“Strange Business”

The first rays of morning shone into the bedroom, lighting upon a caramel skinned man splayed out upon the queen sized bed. As the light fell upon his face, he slowly roused, one eyelid lifting after the other. Glancing to his right, Artan saw 05:43 in red letters glaring at him amidst the morning sunbeams. Up early. He thought to himself, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. A yawn broke from his lips as he reached for the communicator by the bed. The fog began to lift as he saw a notification for two missed calls and two messages. Artan typically kept his communicator on all night, but the events of the last week and a bit had been particularly draining. He had called it an early night rather than argue with Jaeda about the deteriorating situation. Well, it wasn’t so much deteriorating as it was less than perfectly ideal for MilMax.

The support the team had hoped to find with a more moderate Military Creation Act hadn’t materialized in the way anyone had hoped. The Military Creation Act would still be good news for MilMax one way or another, but it was the lesser of two outcomes as far as the PMC was concerned. And it didn’t take a lobbyist to see it pass the Senate either, it would practically do that itself. Jaeda might have been right about his uselessness after all. Shaking that thought off, Artan dialed into his message server to see what he’d missed. Maybe a door to success would open up after all.

He didn’t recognize the number that had called him, nor did he immediately recognize the voice of the Female who’d left the message. Atleast not until she’d identified herself as Iazuwu Dema. In an instant, Artan went back eight years into the past. He’d been a mercenary for only a handful of years and had already managed to earn a reputation as a stolid professional. There had been a bounty he had been chasing taking refuge on a mid-rim world called Perau. Perau was notoriously picky about offworlders landing on their planet; one needed to apply for permitting months in advance, and the perp had friends inside the Ministry of Immigration and Visitation. If he even caught a whiff of a merc or bounty Hunter on his trail, he’d have dropped off the grid in an instant or worse, cannoned up for a long fight. A false identity was out of the question, it would take too much time and cost too much. Local authorities couldn’t be trusted to take his man, and extradition from Perau to the greater Republic was a nightmare. That left infiltration as an option.

He remembered asking an associate for a smuggler with a lot of nerve and could be trusted further than they could be thrown. Iazawu’s name was at the top of a very short list. Artan remembered feeling uncertain about her when he first saw her picture; Pretty Twi’leks in the business of smuggling often had someone pulling their strings, but his reservations had melted away once he had met her. She presented herself as bold, intelligent, and willing to see a job through to the very end. An excellent pilot, with a solid crew. She’d gotten Artan in under the radar for a daring daylight raid on the target’s apartment, and then gotten everyone out in one piece in a complex escape pattern. He hadn’t seen her since, but he held a great deal of respect for what she could do.

Replaying the first message, Artan listened more carefully this time at what the woman had to say.

”Artan, hi. This is uh, Iazuwu Dema. I’m not certain you might remember me, but I flew a job for you into Perau a handful of years back. A real nailbiter. Anyway, I remember you from back then and I saw that you were on Coruscant. I was hoping maybe we could catch up and that maybe you could help me with a problem? You know, for old time’s sake. Look if you can spare a few minutes for me, I would appreciate it if you called me back. Yeah… Uh… Have a good night.”

The Kiffar found his eyebrow raising on its own as he ended the replay of the first message. People didn’t come out of the woodwork after years for a little problem. Especially in their respective lines of work. This woman was in deep trouble. Artan sighed, it couldn’t have come at a worse time in his career. Everything balanced on a knife’s edge and wavering in either direction could see him tumbling down the hole he had come from. But he owed her, or atleast felt that he did. He’d listen to the second message and decide then.

”Artan?” The Woman’s voice asked, thick with drink or emotion. Maybe both? “Artan, listen, it’s me again. Iazuwu. You know, smuggler, Perau. I know I called you once already but I really, really, really need you to pick up. Everything is just getting so out of hand and- and I don’t know what to do anymore. My girlfriend tried to- She doesn’t know how to help… A-and this bitch she’s got me backed up against the wall and I just… I really need someone who can help, or atleast talk to me. I know you’re on Coruscant- I saw you on the holonet and I looked up your details and I’m calling you now and- Just call me back, ok? Please?”

Artan listened to the click of the message ending and found himself frowning deeply. He didn’t like the tone of desperation he had heard in the Twi’lek’s voice. It was something he hadn’t heard in her tone even when Perau Security Forces were a hairsbreadth away from intercepting them. It would have meant for a hilariously lengthy prison sentence in the end, but she’d stuck through it and delivered Artan and her crew from harm. She didn’t get scared, not like this. Loosing a second sigh, Artan made up his mind and began to compose an electronic message for her to receive at her leisure.

Miss Dema,

Can’t say that I expected to hear from you after all these years. Nor in such a manner. I can meet you at Tendo’s at 13:00 today in the Shopping District. It’s mid-spire so nothing too fancy, your lunch is on me. I’ll listen to whatever it is you need to say. Just take a deep breath and keep flying straight, that’s what you told me you’d do when the osik hit the fan, right? I’ll see you soon.

Dutifully Yours,

Artan Mythros

[The Imperial Republic]

Departing Ryloth
Jedi Knight Vrudun Tumara & SEO Baro Galan

---

For three months, Ryloth had been home to Vrudun and Baro, agents of both the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic. The mission tasked to them drew skepticism from Vrudun but it's mission details didn't seem to bother Baro. For three months, the two scoured the Nightlands for confirmation of the rumors of a powerful Darksider who drew power and influence from Ryloth's extensive slave trade economy. Baro Galan took to the streets of Lessu for additional intelligence on whoever this enemy was while Vrudun had begun his search in the Nightlands of Ryloth. Both came up empty handed and despite continued efforts to uncover any further information throughout the three months they were tasked with finding this supposed Dark side user, they had eventually exhausted their resources, leading to Vrudun eventually calling the mission over.

"It's unnerving, Jedi." Said Baro Galan, his voice altered somewhat behind his SEO Armor's helmet. The Jedi didn't respond, only continuing to walk at a steady pace through the crystalline forests of the Nightlands, the light of the various crystal trees illuminating their way back to their T-6 shuttle. Baro, who had been walking behind Vrudun, kept his head on a swivel as they walked. "All those rumors, all those supposed witnesses to this guy and we can't find a single shred of proof he even existed. That crime boss back in Lessu spilled everything he had. I saw it in his eyes. He held nothing back. We get here and there's nothing."

"Whoever this Dark-sider is, he does not wish to be found and has gone to great lengths to ensure that he isn't found. Regardless, I must return to Coruscant. My time and allotted resources for this mission has been spent. I have searched through these Nightlands and scoured the Day Lands and we have not found a single trace. Should whoever this is raise their head once more, I'm sure we will return. Perhaps it will be more successful then." Said Vrudun, keeping himself composed as they neared the T-6. "I'm not sure how you run things in the Order, Jedi, but we in the Judicial Department, tend to solve our cases before returning home." Said Baro in a frustrated tone. Vrudun sighed and turned to face the SEO.

"I understand your frustration, officer, I do. I wanted to find this person, even more than you. But look around you, Baro. There's nothing here. There's a good chance that whoever we're looking for fled the planet once word reached him or her that we were coming. We are in the waiting game now. We wait until we can find sufficient evidence of where they might be. Once any of our informants can point us in a direction, you'll be the first to know. You're invested in this mission just as I am. But for now, we need a resupply and I doubt my Council or your commanding officer will sign off on another three months chasing ghosts in the crystal forests. It's not over yet, I promise you that." He said, returning to his pace towards the T-6 shuttle, now within visual range. Baro simply sighed, shook his head and continued on his way.

After another ten minutes of hiking up to the shuttle, the ramp lowered for them, revealing the bright white lighting of the ship's tiny passenger berthing section. Vrudun entered the pilot's seat, flipping switches, prompting the exterior floodlights to illuminate the surrounding area while systems made their usual booting up sequences. Baro took his seat next to Vrudun as the ship's engines flickered to life. "I sense this won't be the last darksider hunt we'll be on." Vrudun said simply, grabbing ahold of the ship's directional thruster controls, pulling upwards and bringing the ship off of the ground, the ramp sliding upwards and back into the ship. The T-6 shuttle angled upwards and ascended high into the jet black sky, it's engine block and cockpit rotating to it's normal flight mode.

The Return to Coruscant
8:46 AM
Zhellday
4.5.2.976 RE

---

The T-6 Shuttle jolted into space just outside of Coruscant's orbital limits, the blue and white streaks of hyperspace now replaced by the familiar display of red and gold lights dancing across the surface of the ecumenopolis that was Coruscant, the capital world of the Galactic Republic. As soon as the ship entered a distance from Coruscant's orbit, the communication request lights chimed on. Accepting the request, the shuttle's speakers buzzed to the sound of a low male voice. "This is Republic cruiser Azalean Dawn to unidentified military shuttle on approach. Identify."

"Roger, Azalean Dawn. This is Jedi Shuttle 344 on approach from Ryloth on official Jedi Order business. I am also carrying Special Enforcement Officer Baro Galan. Requesting military lane clearance to the Jedi Temple." Said Vrudun coldly, as if his autopilot had kicked on. The information took a few moments to process, forcing Vrudun to power down the main engines to slow their approach until confirmation and approval could be given. "Transmit clearance codes, Shuttle 344."

Vrudun sighed. "Of course." He said as he input his own clearance code, which had been a generic code give to him by the Temple upon leaving for his mission three months prior. Baro had also input his own codes from the Judicial Department. "Clearance codes accepted. Approach to Jedi Temple on Military Lane Beta-4 cleared for Jedi Shuttle 344."

"Copy that. On our way." Said Vrudun, activating the shuttle's engines and quickly moving out towards the Jedi Temple. They entered orbit, the shuttle beginning to shake some while the cockpit visor's erupted into a beautiful display of fire before relinquishing to thick white clouds. The Lane they had been assigned was mostly clear of traffic as they made their approach to the Jedi Temple. "This is SEO Baro Galan, requesting pick up at the Jedi Temple." Baro said over his communication device inside of his helmet. There was a moment of brief silence before Baro's next sentence.

"Yeah, Shuttle 344, wherever it lands, I'll be there." He said before cutting the transmission. As the Shuttle neared the Temple, Vrudun switched the shuttle's comm relay to the Temple's Flight Control Station.

"Temple Flight Control, this is Jedi Shuttle 344, requesting vacant landing pad." Said Vrudun. The Temple wasted little time responding to Vrudun's request.

"Shuttle 344, land at Pad 7, Hangar 3." There was no further need for words and Vrudun maneuvered the shuttle to the other side of the Temple, slowing the Shuttle's thrust and initiating the T-6's landing sequence, bringing it's wings back into it's horizontal landing configuration as one of the pads extended out to greet the ship. Slowly, the shuttle descended, leveling out and engaging it's landing gears. Softly, the shuttle landed upon the pad. Vrudun began flipping switches, prompting the shuttle's engine systems to begin winding down as the Zabrak activated the shuttle ramp. "Home sweet home." Vrudun said as he got up from his seat, Baro following close behind.

Vrudun and Baro exited the shuttle as the extended pad made its way back into the Hangar. "You're more than welcome inside. I'm sure the Refectory is serving meals. Perhaps you'd like one before heading out?" Asked Vrudun. Baro removed his helmet, revealing his military-style short cut white hair and Arkanian facial features. "Appreciate the offer, Jedi, but I gotta get back to HQ. Reports to write and I gotta explain to my Commander why we came back empty handed. It'll be a real nice talk, for sure." Vrudun sighed. "As soon as the Order has any more intel, I'll pass it on to you and we'll get back out there." Vrudun said before departing the Special Enforcement Officer. Vrudun's thoughts then shifted to getting a meal. Afterwards, he'd report his findings, or lack thereof, to the Council or whoever he'd be redirected to.

[Transoxthraxia]

Co-Write with Sivio

---

Darryn quickly got up after Leo had Force pushed him. He held one of his lightsabers, but did not ignite it quite yet as he ran after Leo. After some time, the Jedi Master caught up to Leo who was currently fighting some Temple Guards. The former Jedi was surrounded, but was determined to not have his mission cut short. Using the Force, Rahel grabbed two Temple Guards and smashed their heads together. He got out his lightsaber and defended himself from a frontal attack from one of the Guards. "All of you should have let me in," he said. He Force pushed the Temple Guard away and started Force choking another one.

"Leo, no!" Darryn shouted as he got out his lightsaber and ignited both. With his back against a wall and his lightsaber ignited, Leo Force pushed everyone away and headed towards the Archives. "Guards, let me handle this," Darryn said. "I know him better than anyone. Alert all Jedi. If there is anyone near, have them converge on me." Nord once again started running to catch up to Rahel. Once he was in sight, Darryn used the Force to pull some boxes and shelves to slow down his friend. Nord ignited his lightsabers and tried taking a shot at Leo. However, Leo cut the boxes and shelves in half with his lightsaber and quickly turned around to defend himself.

Leo pushed up against Nord as soon as they made contact. By now, Leo had put on his mask; in one eye, a blue lightsaber was reflected and the other reflected the orange and yellow sabers. "Your powers a weak, old man," he said to Darryn. "Maybe you're not as powerful as everyone says you are." Darryn, out of spite, pushed him away. He lifted one of his sabers up and the other to the side and went in for attack. Meanwhile, Leo lunged in with his own saber. Rahel's attack was deflected to the side, but the man was otherwise unscathed. The two men stopped for a moment. "You can't win, Rahel," Darryn said. "If you strike me, I will become more powerful than you can ever imagine." All around them as they battled towards the archives, the walls, ceilings, floor, and anything else was almost effectively destroyed. "Come then, Nord," Leo said as he spun his saber. "I will show you what it really means to be one with the Force." The two men charged each other.

When Aayuh had come back to the temple, her feelings of comfort and warmth from visiting her sister had already begun to cool. Her mind was preoccupied with her interaction with the odd Leo, a former Jedi of sorts, who had come back to Coruscant for some reason. He had seemed inordinately interested in getting back to the Jedi Temple, which, in her defense, Aayuh hadn't really thought much of. Visitors to the Temple weren't unheard of - or, for that matter, even uncommon. She had been much more interested in what Leo was saying than where he had wanted to go.

So when she received a sudden transmission from the head of security, Darryn Nord, about an emergency breach, her stomach churned. Was it Leo? Who else could it be? Had she been so stupid as to believe that Leo wanted nothing other than to use her as a ride, and then potentially a plant in the Temple?

Thoughts raced through her mind as she briskly made her way to Darryn's broadcasted location. Getting there in a short time, she arrived just to see the two men charging one another, the distinct look of both Darryn and Leo confirming her fears. Her eyes widened in shock and fear as she prepared to witness the first live-action lightsaber duel she ever would, paralyzed by inaction and surprise.

When Leo and Darryn made contact, Leo headbutted the Head of Security and kicked him. It was then he noticed Aayuh. He quickly Force grabbed her and slammed her against the wall. "We're heading to the Archives," Leo whispered into her ear. "The Jedi are keeping secrets and information from everybody, including you." He looked back at Darryn and nodded.

Darryn nodded back. He quickly got back up after being kicked by Leo. He shook his head and coughed a bit. "Let her go," he said as soon as he saw what was happening. After what seemed like an eternity, Leo complied and made a break for the Archives. "Aayuh, right? That was former Jedi Knight, Leo Rahel. Nearly fell to the dark side 20 years ago and was exiled for that and his beliefs. Been on the run ever since, helping people. However....." He hesitated a bit because he didn't know if he could trust her. What he didn't know was that Leo and Aayuh had met prior to this. "He was always more outspoken than me. Come on, we need to follow him." Darryn started following the path of destruction Leo left behind.

Leo had finally made it to the Archives. He shook his head and said to himself, "Damn, this is not gonna look good on me." He stopped to catch his breath. Okay, onto the matter at hand, he thought. The easiest thing here would be acquiring a location to Prakith and that one planet in the Outer Rim. Hopefully I don't have to go there. And maybe a good location for future training grounds.... Leo raced over to where he thought all geography and history was kept.


As Aayuh was slammed against the wall, her breath was knocked from her chest, and she was quickly brought back to reality. She could do little more than cough as Leo through her against the wall. She had been caught off-guard, and her saber dropped to her side, clattering onto the ground. She barely heard him as he started talking - we - him and Darryn? - were heading into the archives. The Order was keeping secrets.

A split-second nod confirmed to Leo that the two were working together, albeit Darryn being in what could be considered deep cover.

Leo relented his grip on her, and she fell as Leo ran towards the Archives. She quickly recovered, nearly jumping up, and grabbed her weapon off the ground. Darryn invited her along with him, but her feelings were mixed. The two were doing something considered nigh-sacrilegious - if not actually sacrilegious. And she was a Jedi. What did they want with the Archives? she thought to herself. What was in there that prompted this sort of action?

Her brow furrowed as Darryn set off towards Leo. Aayuh, curious more than worried, followed the two. Besides, it'd look like a dereliction of duty if she didn't. Damn Leo for putting me in this position, she thought as she ran, emotions wild.

Coming into the Archives, it didn't take her long to find Leo. "What are you doing?" she yelled through the Archives, still running to catch up with him.

"Glad you could join us, Aayuh," Leo responded without looking at you. "I know this is awkward after our meeting, but this is a necessary thing. As for your question, I'm looking for a location, a planet I've heard rumors and whispers about." Darryn came up behind them and said, "Cameras and scanners are disabled for now. I don't know how long the Temple Guards or any other Jedi will come, but we should hurry and get out." The Jedi master shook his head. "Wait, you two know each other already?"

"Yes, my friend," Leo responded. "We met not too long ago. We vaguely recognized each other, but understood how we felt about the Order." Leo kept going through the files. "Prakith, Prakith..." he kept mumbling. "Weird, I assume the Order was very thorough about even that. Okay, nothing on Prakith. Darryn, I need you to access the files in Hall One. Anything related to philosophy, manuscripts, and the Force itself. Aayuh, if you're willing to help, I need help accessing the Holocron Vaults. I know you have a duty as a Jedi, you both do; and I know I'm asking for a lot already..." He looked at her. "And I'm sorry for putting you in a difficult position, I really am. We can figure out a way to make it seem you're not just allowing us to take what we need."

Meanwhile, Darryn was heading to the First Hall. As a Master and Head of Security, he should be able to access mostly everything.

"I- uh- yes?" She said, still confused about the whole scenario. "You two know each other? You're in on this, too?" she asked Darryn. She felt as if the conversation was moving a mile a minute. She quickly turned backwards, to check if anyone else was coming - but, luckily, it seemed as if they hadn't been followed. Yet.

"What's Prakith?" Aayuh asked. The name sounded distantly familiar, but not enough for her to even figure out what it could've been. Still concerned about the consequences of being implicated with the two, she was just as curious about what Leo was looking for. What information was worth breaking into one of the best-defended places in the Galaxy? "Holocrons?" She then asked.

It began to fall into place. The Archives were host to a lot of things, ancient holocrons among them. Holocrons were information stores, but what was on them tended to be classified at best. Aayuh theorized that Leo, at the very least, suspected there to be a number of useful holocrons. What was the Order hiding that someone felt as if they needed to risk their own life - and the lives of others - to access it?

"I... I guess I can help. What do you need?"

Leo headed to the Holocron Vaults with Aayuh. "Tell me, have you heard of Darth Andeddu?" he asked her. "It's not something the Jedi will tell you. The Jedi claim to be open minded and will tell you that only Light Side knowledge is the way. However, like I've mentioned, there's so much more to the Force than the Jedi will tell you." As he talked, he also began to try to unlock the vault. "Throughout my travels, I've heard whispers and rumors of the Immortal God King of Prakith, Darth Andeddu. However, it was just that: whispers and rumors. I couldn't find anything in other temples, libraries, and the like. So how do I know it's real? My reasoning is that there's always some degree of through in the myths and legends. My guess is that this man was so evil, so incredibly strong, that the Jedi purged most knowledge of him. I'm assuming that if his holocron exists, the Jedi kept it, destroyed it, or never knew existed. If they didn't know, that means we need to scour the Galaxy for it."

Meanwhile, Darryn was collecting as much as he could until he came across something horrifying. "...and thus, cutting them off from the Force itself," he said to himself. "A fate worse than extermination. That is not the Jedi way. This is disturbing." Nord found another journal about some ancient Jedi. As he read, the Jedi master became more frustrated and sighed. Then he collected what he felt was right and headed back to Aayuh and Leo. Hopefully they got that vault open somehow, he thought to himself.

"Now originally, the vaults need to be opened by several Jedi masters," Leo said as he focused on the vault. "However, we don't have that luxury. If I remember correctly, there was an incident decades ago. Long before either of us were born. A young male had stolen a Sith holocron from the vault and was later caught. Not wanting to take the blame, he later blamed his friend who was a Padawan. However, the truth came out and the thief was placed in the Agricultural Corps of the Order's Service corps. It's mostly for failed Jedi, like myself. However, I opted to leave the Order entirely. The former Jedi-in-training abandoned his post and became a raider in the Outer Rim. Ever since then, Vault Security was heightened. However...." He continued focusing. "I think with the three of us, if Nord comes back, we can trick the Vault."

"A Darth?" Aayuh asked. "I only know of the title in reference to the Sith..." She responded, trailing a little behind Leo. What Leo was saying, about there being more to the Force than the Jedi, wasn't exactly uncommon knowledge, especially for someone such as Aayuh. Merely the mention of unorthodox views and some of the more zealous Jedi Masters would begin into tirades and cautionary tales about the Dark Side. She had always wondered why the Jedi had decided to select some things as orthodox and not others. There was the obvious moral explanation, but it felt to her that it was more about a lack of trust and a need for control than any actual worry. Especially when some were granted more liberal access to the Archives than others.

"What's so important in this holocron that we need it?" She then asked, making sure that she said "we" instead of "you". "But I guess I can help get this open," she started, knowing that her actions were well beyond the pale of acceptable conduct. But at this point, her curiousity had been piqued. She had been delayed, passed over, and shunned at every moment in her pursuit of the Order's studies. She had long wondered about what she was missing, and now some of it was sitting right in front of her.

"What do you need?"

"Exactly," Leo said. "Rumors state that he lived sometime after the Hundred-Year Darkness, which is another thing in of its own. I don't know how yet, but I know through the dark side of the Force, Andeddu grew in strength and everyone feared him, even other Sith Lords; they failed. Eventually, the entire planet of Prakith came under his rule and harnessed his abilities. Not just to increase his strength, but his lifespan as well. Everyone on planet, especially his followers, called him a God-King."

Darryn came into the picture as Leo talked. The Jedi Master joined the duo in trying to unlock the door. "I stopped by the Third Hall real quick to gather some data on potential planets," he said. "Some might be great choices." He went to focus on the vault.

"We'll discuss that later," Leo responded. "Anyway, so much information on this man was destroyed, that many of the details are unclear. The rumors also mention he had complete control, but not how. The Sith Lord was so paranoid that he willingly entombed himself with all his knowledge. However, I know that he created a holocron and buried it with him. We can use it to gain access to his knowledge, but I have no idea where it is. Last any would have heard of it would have been almost or at least 1000 years ago." Rahel heard some unlocking noises. "Huh, guess the Council needs some better security." Darryn looked at him annoyed and shook his head.

"Alright, not all of them will be here and some will only unlock with a memory crystal," Darryn stated. "We will only take some of these, mostly ones that contain secrets, information about the Force, and potentially Andeddu's holocron. However, I honestly doubt it's here. Remember the Order does not like anything that disagrees with their philosophy and Code."

Aayuh listened intently. Andeddu sounded exactly like the type of guy that the Order'd hate. Not that he exactly sounded like the best guy to know, even back then. The whole idea of it begin better to be feared, rather than loved, is something that Aayuh had never understood. Perhaps it came with the territory - by the time that you get to running whole planets, you can't make everyone love you. And, if that was the case, best to ensure that those who don't love you won't step out of line.

Regardless, naive optimism wasn't exactly a practice outlook - especially not now, as she stood, looking at the forbidden pieces of information that the Archives would have held - a veritable treasure trove of things that she never would have been shown otherwise. She barely heard him as he was talking about Andeddu's information. "What do you want with his power anyway? Doesn't really seem to me like he had anything that we'd want."

She had only really caught from Leo the idea that he wanted Andeddu's power, rather than the information that the Lord had. To her, Leo may have left the Order, but he wasn't evil - she couldn't sense that in him. She looked at Darryn as he started talking, his last sentence ringing true. She nodded in agreement with what he had said, and then looked behind them, towards the entrance, to make sure that no one was coming.

"Oh yeah, trust me, whatever's on the holocron," he started out. "For the most part, we don't want; I believe it does contain the location to Prakith and some real nasty abilities. I try to avoid the more nasty abilities, lest I get even more tempted to that part of the Force. However, his collection is something we might want in the future. Regardless though, we've scoured this entire vault and nothing on that specific holocron. Meaning, I doubt it's in the other vault and in the Head Librarian's office. We're gonna have to scour the Galaxy if anything." Leo grabbed a few more holocrons that he believed was essential. He looked at Aayuh. "Listen, I can't ask you to come with us," the man said. "I do want you to, but I know you have a duty to the Order despite your beliefs. However...." Before he could finish, Darryn started talking over their communicators.

"Leo, Aayuh, we gotta go," Darryn said. "Scanners and cameras are starting to come back online. Plus, a few temple guards have entered the Archives. It won't be long before more come... and before other Jedi come in." On his end, he had already exited the Vault and almost encountered the few Temple Guards. Sneaking isn't my strong suit, but can't let them catch me or see what I have, Nord thought. Looking around the corner, he used the Force to grab some loose items and throw them in the opposite direction. "Listen, Aayuh, it's now or never," Nord whispered over the comms. "Yes, our duty is important, but we can still do good without the Order in our lives. I haven't left yet because of this moment. If you don't want to leave yet, we will figure out something."

Leo had gotten an idea. "Perhaps, Aayuh," he started out as the pair exited the vault. "We could test your skills in combat to make it seem like you're not on our side. We could also make it seem we took you." Then all of a sudden, some Temple Guards appeared in front of them.

What little background Aayuh had on the dark side was that, for the most part, the abilities it afforded its users was unnatural. They corrupted and tempted, made the users of the abilities addicted, like a bad batch of death sticks. It was nice to hear that Leo was, at the very least, aware of that, and smart enough to try and stay away from the most dangerous of abilities. Aayuh imagined that living alone, away from an Order of experts would likely mean that temptations could easily cause one's mind to stray. She merely watched as Leo collected - liberated? - a number of holocrons. But then Darryn interceded - things were coming back online, and soon, if she didn't distance herself from Leo and Darryn, she would be implicated in their schemes. And while she wasn't necessary "in on it", she certainly wasn't taking actions against them.

Leo tried to convince her to come with him, but she couldn't. Not because of her duty to the Order - that was shaken enough, and, ironically, not even at the forefront of her mind. She couldn't stop thinking about her sister. She couldn't just up and leave, not when she was only getting used to having someone in her life. Leaving with no notice, even if she came back, would break Izau's heart, and she knew it. "I can't leave, not yet", she confirmed to Leo. But as the Temple Guards crowded around them, she was more than happy to oblige in his suggestion for a faux duel, content with Darryn's offer to figure something out later. Playing for time is what she needed now.

Her look became stern and harsh. "Stop right there!", she commanded Leo, her hand going to the saber she had clipped back on her belt earlier. She didn't ignite it yet, but instead waited for Leo to make the first move.

"Am I supposed to be scared, Twi'Lek?" Leo asked. "You don't know the true power of the Force." The man closed his eyes to focus. "I will show all of you what I can do." Then, he unleashed a Force lightning attack on all the Guards, narrowly avoiding Aayuh. With this, he ignited his lightsaber but jumped over the Jedi knight. "I'm only doing what the Force has guided me to do." He brought out his former master's saber and set it on the table next to him. "This belonged to a great Jedi, and friend. While I'm sure he wanted me to have it, I am not worthy of it. Whoever you are, you seem like someone he would be proud of." Of course, Leo did know Aayuh, but with their every move now being watched, he had to be careful on what to say and do.

Meanwhile, Darryn's ruse was figured out by the Temple Guards. "Leo, am I interrupting?" he said over the comms as he battled some of his former Guards and protégés. "We need to leave now. I've been made." Although he could keep up with the Guards for a while, Nord knew he wouldn't be able to do this for long. He Force pushed all the guards around him, knocking some out and stunning others. He started running towards the exit with his "loot." Nord decided fuck it and spoke into the comms, "I will meet you somewhere outside the Temple. Sending you coordinates soon, my friend. See you on the other side." He knew Leo could be distracted yet also wanted to protect Aayuh's reputation and standing with the Order. Even so, the pair needed to leave sooner rather than later, and both knew that.

On Leo's end, he had left a paper inside his master's lightsaber for Aayuh, telling her where to find him and that it was urgent that the Order does not find out. "The Jedi like their secrets, so I don't know why you're defending them, Young One," he said, winking. "But I will do what I must."

"I know enough to defeat an exile like you", Aayuh responded. However, seconds later, she felt as if she was eating her words as she witnessed Leo unleash force lightning on the guards around her. Not exactly a power that many Jedi knew - as far as she was aware, the lightning was strictly a power of the dark side. She knew that Leo wasn't evil, but she couldn't help but be intimidated by the action. Before she could ignite her own saber, however, Leo effectively handed over his old master's weapon to her, basically doing all but putting it in her hands.

It was mere seconds for the exile to explain what it was, and she was relieved that she had a way of contacting the pair. However, she needed to hide Leo's "gift" - at least, long enough to extract what meaning it hid. She grabbed it, and clipped it onto her own hilt, next to her saber.

As Leo left, Aayuh only tilted her head downwards, as if in a half-nod, hoping that it was enough to convey her tacit compliance. She watched Leo leave, even more conflicted than she had been before. Rather than running after him, she went to the guards that had been knocked clear of the confrontation, ensuring that all of them were alright.

It was clear to her that the Order was hiding much not just from outsiders, but from those within as well. However, it was similarly clear that Leo was far from the pure soul that he claimed to be. The mere action of breaking into the Archives and his attack on her peers - with a dark side power, too - concerned her.

Leo had to fight his way out of the Jedi Temple. While he strangely did not see any other Jedi Knights and Masters besides the guards, Aayuh, and Darryn, the man still had to go up against quite a bit of the guard. He started breathing heavily and almost collapsed. It's been a while since I've had to exhaust myself this hard, he thought to himself. He Force grabbed two guards and threw them into another group on his way out of the Temple. "Darryn, I'm on my way out," Leo said into the comms. "If you're able to, bring a vehicle to the west entrance of the Temple."

"You'll have to give me a sec, my friend," Darryn responded. "Getting out is a lot tougher than getting in. Unlike when you had me on the inside, the two of us now have no one." Darryn was on the south entrance and quickly headed away from the Temple, intending to commandeer a vehicle and head towards Leo. "What happened to meeting at the coordinates?"

"Frak the coordinates, Nord," Leo stated. "Just get over here." Leo defended himself with his lightsaber from some of the guards and headbutted them. Then he Force pushed them away. "What did you give these guards, Darryn? They're tough as nails."

"The finest training imaginable," Darryn said. "You didn't think I wouldn't train them and risk blowing my cover? I think you're losing it." As he talked, he jumped off the edge and into a vehicle. "It's in your best interest to head to the Temple." He used the Jedi mind trick on the driver to head to the western entrance of the Temple.

[Lotrisia]

Coruscant Federal District
Jedi Temple
Archives Grand Hall
A few metres away from the door

"Master Lonwin?"

Tiasha's voice cut through the background hum of activity within the jedi temple. The public archives, as usual, were host to a constant flow of people: students, academics, jedi, all seeking to benefit from the bounty of knowledge that the order had made available to the people of the galaxy. While they in general presented a slice of the more well-connected and well-established portions of Coruscant society, Tiasha still managed to stand out in her own way. The libraries that the jedi so meticulously maintained were one of their greatest achievements, and Tiasha had on occasion visited the repositories herself in the past. But while the jedi archives were well-deserving in their reputation, she'd also found that they could be suffocating with their restrictions.

One had to wade through layers of bureaucracy even to access nominally public sections of the library, waiting for days or weeks at a time to get access through normal channels. Tiasha had also found herself frustrated on more than one occasion to find that topics that she'd consider decidedly benign were locked away in archives that needed additional permissions to access. The brief exposure that the library had given her to the jedi order's stifling way of doing things had long ago convinced her to find her information elsewhere. But that left her stuck when the information she sought simply wasn't available anywhere else.

Fortunately, Tiasha knew how to expedite red tape when she needed to.

"I am Tiasha Nuvonn, thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me. I understand that you must be very busy with your other duties."

"A pleasure to meet you Miss Nuvonn! I'm always pleased to help those looking for information from our Archives!"

Big fat white lies, of course. Lonwin was anything but pleased to have been dragged away from his work on his investigation to attend to the needs of some political bigwig, especially one as obviously untrustworthy as the woman stood in front of him now. She had the sort of bright, glimmering smile that clearly told anyone who cared to look that she probably hadn't smiled genuinely at all in the past 10 years. Unfortunately for him, this was on orders from people technically higher up than him, which meant that he simply had to grin and bear the ignominy of ending up as a glorified search algorithm. Still, better him than one of the less experienced academics. The Order seemed to trust that he'd be able to distinguish those topics and pieces of information that would probably be deemed too sensitive, or indeed outright dangerous, to simply be allowed into an outsider's hands. If his first judgements of the lady in front of him were anything to go by, she'd probably gotten access to her position in front of him right this instance by pulling strings and calling in favours, instead of doing the normal thing and actually going through the process of waiting for permission. Obviously, she considered herself far more important than the 678 million other applicants on Coruscant who had applied to gain access to some piece of information from the Temple's Archives on this particular day. There was good reason that they only required physical presence when dealing with sensitive information they'd want to avoid being openly disseminated by the public, things like old weapons designs, or the few superweapon schematics he'd run into in the depths of the Archives from time to time.

"So, what brings you to the Archives today?"

The jedi master was the definition of welcoming, but his tone sounded slightly forced to Tiasha. He was probably upset that someone had deigned to pull him away from the sanctity of his books and holotapes, if she had to make assumptions about the type who would dedicate themselves to maintaining something like the archives. If she was lucky, that would mean that he'd be eager to simply give her what she needed and send her on her way.

"An excellent question, Master. And one which I promise you that I'll answer." Glancing around at the less-than-empty room around them, Tiasha offered Lonwin an apologetic smile in response to his question. "Is there perhaps somewhere more private where we could talk?"

With every new word that came out of her mouth, Lonwin could feel another one of his braincells committing suicide, hopping off of the wide gulf in his brain between the part that was handling interacting with Tiasha, and the part busy shuddering in disgust at her attempts at corporate charm. The more I interact with people like you, the more I start to think that limiting access to the Archives is a decent idea, the Master thought to himself, so vehemently that he very nearly projected it into the minds of the people working around them.

"Of course, Miss Nuvonn. If you'll follow me."

Lonwin turned to lead her to a more quiet spot in his beloved archives. While he was loath to bring her to one of his reading spots, he knew a bank of tables that'd usually be empty. They should be able to talk in private there.

Following the jedi as he lead her away to a quieter portion of the archives, Tiasha patiently waited until they were far from any prying eyes or ears before speaking again.

"I'm sorry for all the cloak and dagger, Master Lonwin. But I'm afraid that I wouldn't be doing my job if I wasn't careful." She maintained her outwardly polite demeanor, folding her hands in front of her as she spoke. "I'm here on behalf of some of my clients within the senate. In light of the recent terrorist attacks on government officials and the tragedy at Mercy's Own, we've been working to compile a list of urgent recommendations to improve security for senators." Tiasha explained. "And we have reason to believe that there's a very real risk of the senate being attacked or threatened by a force user of some kind. It's our hope that information from the jedi archives could help the senate better protect itself against such a risk."

Lonwin folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at Tiasha, leaning back almost defensively. His suspicion had been poking at him for the entirety of their short conversation, and had just started hammer against the inside of his head, almost hard enough to make a hole from the inside out. Ms Nuvonn, it appeared, had a problem with a Force user. One that she was taking pains to keep out of the spotlight of official channels. It was a bizarre coincidence that exactly the sort of incidence he'd been looking out for had, in the end, come directly to him asking questions. Of course, she'd hidden the lie relatively well, but a combination of the prompting of the Force and his own engrained suspicion of anyone he didn't know extremely well had flagged the little inconsistency.

"The Senate Guard, and the facilities they provide, are already about as safe against force users as it is practical to make them, barring sticking the Senators in phrik-lined containers and guarding those with an Army Group. More than that, this line of enquiry already has an official channel to follow, one which pointedly and intentionally does not include anyone outside the ranks of the personal security chiefs of individual Senators, and the actual Senate Guard. You, I will point out, are a corporate lobbyist. You are not even directly employed by a Senator's office. In fact, the only time you ever directly interact with Senators is if you're trying to either blackmail, bribe or wheedle them into doing the bidding of whoever you're working for. I've read your files, and I am yet to be convinced you'd even care if a Senator died, apart from the impact on whatever links you've cultivated with them. So this begs the obvious question."

Master Lonwin tilted his head. This wasn't the usual inquisitive gesture one so commonly saw on him. This was harsher. Angrier. The frown that had immediately creased his face deepened further, and his eyes hardened. The glimmer of humour he'd somehow managed to retain throughout their conversation vanished, replaced by a flat, almost emotionless stare. Little of what he was thinking was given away in that moment. The air started to thrum with the scarcely-contained presence of the Force, a deep rumble that permeated the room they stood in.

"What, or, should I say, who, are you planning to use this knowledge against?

And why are you so scared of them, Miss Nuvonn?"

Narrowing her gaze at the sudden hostility from the Jedi, Tiasha didn't seem to be cowed by his accusations.

"Recent events haven't exactly given senators much confidence in the Senate Guard, Master Lonwin." She quipped. "I doubt the families of those killed at Mercy's Own would also share your glowing assessment of their capabilities."

Tiasha folded her arms across her chest, studying the taller man as her lips pursed themselves into a frown. She allowed the silence to stretch out for a few moments as she decided how much more to tell the Jedi. When she spoke, it was with a more serious note in her tone.

"Not long after the bombing, Judicial officers responded to a crime in the lower levels not far from here. It was a bloody affair, with only a single survivor and dozens murdered. But even so, such tragedies are hardly uncommon down there, and most official attention was still being directed towards Mercy's Own." Before the Jedi could cut her off, she continued with a hint of exasperation behind her words. "And before you say ask: no, I wasn't technically cleared to be informed about that particular investigation. But that is neither here nor there. The murders caught my attention, because nearly all of the causes of death were asphyxiation - and yet there was no evidence of some kind of airborne poison being used. When I dug a bit deeper, I found that the Judicial Forces suspected that most of those killed had been involved in illicit activities at the scene of the crime. In particular, there was evidence that the facility was being used to either distribute, or manufacture, explosives."

Tiasha watched the jedi for any signs of how he was reacting to her words, allowing for a few moments for the possible implications to sink in.

"It's not enough evidence to draw any conclusions. And it certainly isn't enough for the Judicial Forces to look into it, especially when they're already spread so thin. But it's enough that my clients are concerned."

The woman rolled her eyes as she continued. "And yes, those clients are in fact members of the galactic senate. I am a registered lobbyist, but that doesn't preclude me from also being tapped by senators and their staff when they want some outside expertise. There's plenty of times when an opinion from outside of the government can be useful. The senators who hired me believe that this is one such time. The Senate Guard and the Judicial Forces are just as busy trying to avoid being blamed for this disaster as they are with their investigations. My job is specifically to work outside the usual channels."

Now Tiasha met the jedi's gaze directly, with a bit of anger behind her eyes.

"And contrary to what you so eloquently described, I do care for the people that I work with, and I do care about the Republic and the safety of everyone in it. If you've read my file, then you know that I grew up on Nar Shaddaa. I know what it's like to live outside of the Republic, and I know how valuable the freedoms that it gives us truly are. But if it helps you to view me - and everyone in my line of work - as some kind of cartoonish, moustache-twirling villain, then fine. Would the fact that I'm being paid handsomely for my services, and that I am immeasurably greedy, be a more believable explanation for you? Because frankly, I couldn't care less."

Lonwin had remained silent through Tiasha's tirade, simply letting her continue her somewhat indignant spluttering. Never interrupt one's enemy when they are in the process of committing a grave error, the sage piece of wisdom went. Despite her anger, Lonwin could feel the prickling, cloying sensation of the fear she was suppressing filling out the room, hidden behind a delicate mask of anger. Her ability to hide her emotions was impressive, as befitted one so deeply engrained in the upper echelons of Coruscant "high society", but that sort of hiding did little against a Jedi who could pull what she was feeling directly out of her mind. That she hadn't done this by intermediary betrayed how little she knew of the unsettling openness of the mind to the whims of the Force. Her speech betrayed yet more details. A few more gaps had opened up in the glamorous facade, and Master Lonwin fully intended on giving them a good tug.

"For someone who spends their entire career telling sweetly-coated lies, I fear that you're hopelessly prone to giving too much away, Ms Nuvonn. The attack at the apartment block in the district adjacent to Mercy's Own is not new information to me. I was a member of the force called to investigate the scene of the crime, and I am one of the only people outside of the Judicial Corps in the entire galaxy who possesses the necessary clearance to know about the details of the ongoing investigation at that site. It was made perfectly clear to me how deeply the cell that I would be locked away in would be buried if I let so much as a whisper about the events at that crime scene slip my lips."

Lonwin glared at Tiasha, his eyes just about burrowing holes out the back of her head from the intensity of his stare. His hostility was something of a bluff, one he was hoping might jiggle loose the information he was quite aware she was hiding from him. He decided to turn up the intensity an extra notch. Somewhere down the line he'd have to offer her some more attractive offer than the threat he was about to fire at her, but that could wait. Stick first, carrot later.

"You, Ms Nuvonn, are a civilian. A distinctly unqualified one, at that. Possession of confidential information pertaining to the safety and security of the Republic is a crime that comes distinctly, and, for you, uncomfortably, close to treason, and it's a crime for which you would enjoy 30-50 years confinement in a jail cell sat right next the one they have reserved for me if I were minded to forward the Judicials a report. Charter of the Republic Judicial Corps, Section 23, Clause 16. Don't play the affronted servant of the Republic with me, Ms Nuvonn. We're both perfectly aware that the only person you serve here is yourself."

There was a vindictive pleasure to be had about the way Tiasha blanched at his words. Even more from the fact that he'd managed to quote Section and Clause perfectly, though he didn't quite manage to work it in word for word. Next time, perhaps. Unfortunately, with the fun bit done, he now had to play along with offering her some sort of alternative option to the ever-so-tempting proposition of just throwing her in a jail cell and forcing her to try worm her way out.

"Fortunately for you, I'm currently in a good mood. As a result of this rare state of mind, you are lucky enough to find that I have something of a bargain on offer, just for you. I give you the information you're looking for here, and just about bring myself to overlook the fact that I should be frogmarching you off to Fort Light for interrogation, and in exchange you tell me exactly why you're looking at techniques for use against Force users that the clients you serve are already protected by, and who you're planning on using that information against. Call it personal interest. Of course, you're perfectly free to refuse the offer, but considering that I'm empowered by the law and the circumstances of the ongoing investigation to lift the information I'm looking directly out of your head, I would recommend that you take the easier route and spare us both the trouble."

Once again folding her arms across her chest, Tiasha raised an eyebrow at the jedi's brash threat. She respected his decision to speak to her from a position of strength. But if she were so easily intimidated by a man with a chip on his shoulder, then she wouldn't have gotten nearly as far as she already had.

"Treason?" The lobbyist scoffed. "You and I both know that you'd need to provide evidence that I illegally accessed highly confidential records. Which - for the record - I did not." Tiasha spoke, irritation creeping into her tone as the man continued to insist on hearing more than what she was giving him. "The fact that the Judicial Corps feel so threatened that they locked down their findings, and yet some 'civilian' can connect the pieces from largely publicly available information, makes an outside review all the more warranted. Wouldn't you say?"

Even if Tiasha knew that an accusation from the jedi wouldn't be able to stick, despite what he hoped, he had inadvertently composed at least a somewhat effective threat. Frustratingly, she had to admit that spending her time fighting an unnecessary legal battle, and potentially drawing unwanted attention, was far from a desirable outcome.

"And as for your question, what more is it that you want from me?" Tiasha said, narrowing her gaze. "I've already told you about a confidential review of senate security, funded at least in part by senatorial staff outside of the regular channels. If you wanted me to stick my neck out and reveal some semblance of trust, I have already more than done so." Her mouth twisted into a frown as she studied the jedi's features. It was like he was fishing for a particular response. If nothing else, Tiasha had learned from this conversation that the Order were far more involved and interested in recent events than she'd expected. Why?

"Who is out there that you think I might want to use this information against, Master Lonwin?"

Lonwin's response was immediate, crisp, and filled to the brim with paranoia.

"A rogue Force user who you see as a threat but are unable or as of yet unwilling to act against for whatever reason, and against whom you wish to gain some measure of power in the case that you feel you need to act against them. Probably someone in a position of power, judging by the fact that you aren't trying to bring official apparatus against them, and definitely not someone you wish to see dead, if the fact that you decided not to bring this to the Order's Silvers first to see if they'd help you is anything to go by. This isn't the first time I've dealt with a situation exactly like this one, and considering the details of the investigation you so helpfully brought up, I believe it's probably warranted that I treat you with a little bit of suspicion. You are lying to me, Ms Nuvonn. I do not appreciate the experience."

Lonwin gave her a moment to digest what he had said, before continuing on his little monologue. He reckoned he at least had her motives figured out, if nothing else. While he couldn't be sure that this particular incident was linked to the bombing investigation, it certainly presented an interesting lead, and, if need be, also a potential way to screw with Coruscant's high society, always a win in his books.

"I'm afraid you do not have much choice in the matter here. You can either tell me the information I need to know, and get something useful in return, or have the indignity of me forcefully ejecting you from the library. I'd very strongly recommend you take the former option."

With her lips pressed into a line, Tiasha didn't immediately respond. For a few moments, she studied Lonwin's gaze as if trying to ascertain one last time if there was any chance of persuading him to change his mind. Eventually, a frustrated sigh escaped from her lips.

"If that's your final word on the matter, Master Lonwin, then I'll take my leave." Gathering herself and stroking aside a stray strand of hair from her features, Tiasha scowled at the jedi. "I don't believe that continuing to go around in circles like this is the best use of either of our time. But I can't say that I've appreciated being threatened." Turning to leave the archives, the lobbyist paused to offer the older man a final comment. "If you do have a change of heart, I'm sure that my number is in my file."

Lonwin kept his face composed, but the muscles tightening around his neck and jaw betrayed his irritation at Tiasha's words. It wasn't so much that they stung so much as that the smug assuredness pricked at his pride. He was perfectly aware that he had her at a disadvantage, but she continued to play the part of superiority almost to perfection. This, naturally, dictated that Lonwin insist on getting the final word in.

"As is your address, should it be necessary that the Judicials pay you a visit. I don't need your help, Ms Nuvonn. You will find that I am perfectly capable of getting the information I need, as I need it. That is, after all, what I do for these Archives. You, on the other hand, are going to have to come to me. Who knows? Maybe you'll have a change of heart and come looking again. Until then, stay the hell out of my Archives."

The two parted ways without another word.

[Orostan]

Coruscant - Jedi Temple

Zeya sat in the middle of her room meditating and hovering a good meter off the ground with her eyes closed and her legs closed. Higher than usual, as she was looking to build endurance with the force. Her room was sparsely decorated as many Jedi rooms were. The only things apart from the very basic furniture that came with it were a few objects from Zeya's travels around the galaxy in the service of the Jedi order. A sculpture of a Gree from the planet of Gree in black stone sat on a shelf. A metal case for small objects with the symbol of Xim the Despot from Desevro that Zeya used to store lightsaber parts sat on the dresser. Although Zeya's body seemed calm enough her mind was far from that. Since the death of Corde Vane Zeya had not been able to achieve the state of inner balance that Jedi were supposed to strive for. She had spent most of her time outside of her duties trying to restore it. It was difficult to do this when the environment around her was so unbalanced and conflicted. It was at one point easy to separate herself from that and enjoy the force but now it seemed impossible now that she no longer believed in the Jedi teachings that were once the core of her identity like many others. She told herself she believed in it but she could not bring herself to believe in an order run by corrupt lunatics. Master of the order Toro Yavat was a target of particular dislike bordering on hatred from her. The character of a man who would cover up the death of perhaps the most important jedi in the century - Corde Vane - to keep outdated dogma alive was unimaginable to her. She knew a Jedi was not supposed to hate and tried to suppress the feeling but it could not be ignored. Everywhere she went she was reminded of the Jedi order's hypocrisy. To claim to love peace and balance in the galaxy was impossible when the Jedi sectioned themselves off from it and the council made out of touch decisions from an almost literal ivory tower above the Jedi temple.

Zeya opened her eyes and allowed her body to gently descend from the floor. Meditating in the temple was doing her no good. She got up and put on a cloak over her jedi robes and walked out of her room towards the hangers doing her best to calm her mind along the way and prevent people from noticing her inner conflict. Arriving in the hanger room she swiftly walked towards her Delta-6 Sprite starfighter that was parked in the middle of the hanger amidst the other jedi starfighters. Hers was a fairly mudane grey and blue color and had a little R4 astromech of similar color working on an open electrical panel on the backside of the fighter. Noticing the approach of its master the droid started finishing up its work, and as Zeya came close she put her hand gently on its conical "head" and knelt down to greet it. Droids like her astromech always had this sense of innocence to them that reminded her of a child a little bit. She suspected that was why she liked the company of her droid. Unfortunately the starfighter had no room for poor R4, so it would have to stay behind in one of the many droid charging receptacles in the hanger. She waved goodbye to it and R4 waved back as her starfighter flew out of the hanger.

While she was talking to Coruscant traffic control in an almost automatic way to get permission to leave the planets atmosphere she was paying attention to the fast approaching clouds. Traffic control wanted her to divert her course twenty degrees to the left to avoid a large freighter preparing to enter the atmosphere and as she complied the clouds passed her. Once her instrument panel said she'd left the atmosphere Zeya accelerated and moved farther and farther away from the planet accelerating as fast as her starfighter could. Soon the planet of Coruscant was a shrinking golden sphere behind her, and Zeya checked twice for ships or objects along her course before switching the engines off and turning the starfighter around to face the planet. Out here she could hopefully get some inner jedi peace.

[Miekzhemy]

(co-written w/ Lotrisia and Transoxthraxia)

An Interrogation


Jedi Knight Kedoa Nissah
Master Galyrand Lonwin
Padawan Shidiyo Cuza

---

Coruscant - The Lower Levels

After waving off the Judicials that showed her the bodies, Kedoa made her way back from whence she came. She marched once from the smog-ridden outside into the...less smog-ridden refuge of the apartment. Finding the elevator of this dump unsurprisingly out of order, she began to ascend the stairway to the fourteenth floor. Go figure, she thought. An elevator was probably some sort of state-of-the-art technology to some of these people. Frankly, she was surprised the lights even worked. When the Jedi Knight finally reached her destination, the Zabrak was greeted by yet another dimly-lit hallway, its walls riddled with the same irregular patterns of cracks and chipped paint - identical to the previous several floors she had passed by on her way up. And just like the others, this hall was also devoid of any activity from the tenement's residents. Seems whatever commotion caused by the Judicials or the suspects' killers drove most of the inhabitants away. Or at the least, back into their homes for the time being.

Villmud's residence was one of the few apartments whose door was not boarded up. As she approached the door, Kedoa slowed her pace, reaching back to grip the hilt of her saberstaff. She sensed nothing amiss, but she was never one to trust that wholeheartedly in the Force. With an outstretched hand, she pushed the door open, sending a long, drawn-out creak echoing down the hall.

What greeted her was largely what she expected: A lowlife criminal's hovel - the typical lack of proper furnishings, the scattered piles of refuse, and everything in between. Minor possessions were piled up here and there, either on the floor or upon makeshift tables and improvised furniture, thrown together in the form of crates or boxes.

What a life of luxury...

Finding herself thankfully not accosted by a squatter this time, Kedoa relinquished her saberstaff, and stepped inside.

"Now," she grumbled to herself. "If I were a ruffian living in the slums, where would I...?"

Starting with the jumble of boxes stacked up in the corner, she began rummaging.


/\/\/\


The street outside the apartment was quiet, unusually so for one in the Undercity. Possibly, the local Underlings had been scared off by the presence of armed Judiciaries and Jedi. Even in a place as highly-regulated as an arcology on the Galactic capital, these levels had more than their fair share of criminals and other lowlifes to whom the face of the law was an unwelcome sight. Or perhaps it was that curious precognition the streets seemed to possess when something dangerous was on the way. I wonder if we'd get a reading if we tested the street for force-sensitivity, Lonwin thought absent-mindedly to himself as he watched the speedometer tick past 400 km/h. He'd never thought the truck would've had anything more than 200 in its dinky little repulsors, but evidently some enterprising soul had boosted them significantly, enabling a multitude of wild swerves and drifts which Lonwin had spent the past three minutes enjoying. As ably attested-to by the manic grin on his face, he wasn't complaining.

The truck hissed around a corner, barely missing a balcony that jutted out into the street. On its dashboard, Lonwin's datapad, held on by a roll of adhesive tape, pinged twice. He squinted at it, then glanced up at the apartment block rapidly coming up on their right.

"Oh hey, here's our stop!"

He jammed on the brakes, kicking both himself and the Padawan alongside him forward in their seats from the force of the sudden deceleration. The truck's inertial dampeners, mild things at the best of times, were beyond their limits, and while they managed to soften their halt, they could not eliminate the effect altogether. Lonwin didn't mind, but, to his slightly horrified remembrance, he wasn't the only one in the truck.

Padawan Shidiyo had been quiet the whole trip. It wasn't a pensive quiet, the sort that came with deep thought and introspection, but rather a terrified one, accompanied by soft whimpers and a white-knuckled grip on the interior of the truck. He popped his door open, then turned to his passenger, who hadn't quite moved since the start of their dive into the undercity. One of the mysterious orange fruits now decorating the front of the vehicle peeled off and landed with a splat in the silence.

"Well then, here we are, Padawan. You doing alright?"

If Shidiyo Cuza had been scared during the ride, she was terrified when Lonwin had suddenly stopped. Wide-eyed, she, by the breadth of a hair, had avoided smashing her head on the dashboard. Her messy hair hadn't been so lucky, and had fallen haphazardly across her face. When she was thrown forwards, she felt a sudden pressure in her nose. She tucked the hair out of her face with one hand and checked her nose with the other.

Luckily, no blood seemed to be forthcoming. Good, thought the dazed Padawan. She hated nosebleeds. She also hated feeling scrambled. She felt very scrambled.

It took her a few seconds to register what the Jedi Master had asked her. She looked at him, finished fixing her hair, and nodded absent-mindedly, her eyes wide. "I... uh... yeah", she said eventually. Lonwin likely could see Cuza's dazed look. Her brow instinctually raised. She felt like her stomach was churning - no, it definitely was. Am I going to lose my lunch?

"Let's... I need to get out..." she said, grasping her stomach. "Should we... ah... go?"

Shidiyo blinked a number of times, trying to bring herself back to focus.

Getting out of the speeder, she finally felt slightly better. "Didn't that knight, Kedoa, say she'd be around here?" Shidiyo asked, looking back at Lonwin.

Lonwin hopped out the truck and landed on the ground lightly, his robes fluttering slightly. Poor Shidiyo was still looking rather green, and was leaning on the side of the truck to steady herself after the nauseating experience the eccentric Master's driving had entailed. Good thing I was driving carefully, Lonwin thought to himself. It would've been an awful mess if she'd vomited inside the truck. He'd long since learned his lesson on how unpleasant vomit in a variable-G environment could be. Smoothing his robes, he walked around the fruit-stained front of his vehicle to where his companion stood.

"Well, she didn't exactly tell us directly, but that terrifying woman in command up at the hospital said another Jedi was here. Good chance it's Kedoa, judging by-"

Lonwin paused for second, hesitating slightly. His eyes widened, and he retracted the finger he'd held in the air while talking. He could hear audible crashes coming from the apartment, 14 stories up.

"We should probably get to that apartment before she rips the whole place apart."

With that, he disappeared in the direction of the entrance in a flurry of fabric and clanking metal.

Shidiyo could only watch as Lonwin quickly made his way towards the apartments after mentioning that he wanted to get to the apartment before Kedoa tore the place apart. She thought to herself, Yeah, she's the danger here, sarcastically, forgetting entirely the danger of thinking such things - both as a Jedi-to-be and as someone in proximity to a life-long mind reader.

She was mostly unconcerned, however, since her brain was still vaguely scrambled, and she was confident that Lonwin was much too preoccupied with the investigation. Trying to calm her stomach, she quickly followed after Lonwin, half-speed walking, half-running after him.

For all she quietly suffered under Zad's wing, Lonwin's ad hoc apprenticeship, as much as it was difficult, was certainly different.


/\/\/\


"Useless piece of--!"

Kedoa threw her hands underneath a makeshift table of plywood. And with her own physical strength alone, she almost effortlessly flipped the entire thing over, despite the cumbersome personal console that had been resting upon it. As the table crumbled and collapsed under such duress in a cacophony of splintering wood, the Zabrak lashed a hand out, seizing the entire terminal with the Force before it could hit the floor.

"HRAAAGH!"

Her shriek was like a battle cry as she put her entire body into hurling the damned thing into the wall opposite her. It soared through the open air with such speed and force that it practically shattered upon reaching its destination, showering just about the entire room in a deluge of jagged metal and electrical fixings. As she eyed the newly-formed dent in the wall, bits and pieces of the terminal bounced off her tunic and boots before clattering helplessly to the floor. Then, just as quickly as it happened, the room fell ominously silent.

For a time, she stood rigid, huffing and puffing like a woman possessed - overcome with the frustration that had been the benchmark of this entire investigation, finally boiling over and unleashed in the form of unbridled rage. At least no one had noticed...

Or so she thought.

"Mister Villmud...?"

Kedoa had reached over her shoulder, a hand clasped around her saberstaff before she even heard the unfamiliar voice from down the hall. The Jedi froze, like an animal on high alert, as a figure came into view in the open doorway.

"Isstrev--?"

The human who had walked in stopped dead in his tracks, freezing in tandem with the Zabrak that now stood in the center of Villmud's wrecked and ransacked apartment. For a long while, they stared at one another, the human's wide eyes boring into her own in utter shock.

Then suddenly, he turned on his heel, and bolted back down the hall.

"HEY!" Kedoa sprung forward, sprinting for the doorway.

"GET BACK HERE!"

The man was surprisingly fast, almost already at the end of the hall by the time Kedoa had scrambled out of the apartment. He disappeared for just a moment down the staircase and to the thirteenth floor. The Zabrak practically leapt down the steps in an effort to catch up. She debated snatching him into the air like that terminal. But potentially hurting a bystander was...well, probably a bad idea.

During the chase down this new (but certainly not less run-down) hallway, the man barged through one of the apartment doors on his left.

"You're only making things worse for your-- AGH!"

She was inches from barging in after him when the refurbished metal doorway was slammed in her face. Kedoa reeled back, clutching her nose.

"Really?! I'm just here to-- Urgh, damn that hurts!" her angered tone devolved into a pained hiss.

"I...I didn't see nothing! Go away!"

Lonwin loped up the stairs as quickly as he could get his long legs to carry him, robes fluttering in his wake like sheets of sail cloth in a sea breeze. The last time he'd physically seen sails, it had been far off in Wild Space on a planet not more advanced than its iron age. It was quite the thought to realise that the apartment block he was currently clambering up through had better furbishment quality than the palaces of their monarchs. His train of thought flitted between wondering whether he could have set himself up as a divine monarch of some sort and a continuous stream of worry at the continued crashes coming out of the apartment they were supposed to be investigating. Kedoa's lack of training on that front seemed to be coming through rather strongly.

Reaching the 9th floor, he paused, huffing slightly with exertion. His moment of rest, however, was interrupted by an almighty crash resonating through the building from a few floors above him, following by yelling and the sound of a hurried pursuit. Now given fresh motivation, Lonwin dashed up the last 4 flights of stairs, only to discover Kedoa standing in front of a closed metal door, holding a bleeding nose. The door itself seemed firmly shut, a fact she seemed to have attested to considering the small splotch of blood decorating the door's outside at face height. Amateur he thought to himself. If you're going to intimidate a bystander, it's grab first, yell second. Clearly, Kedoa had yelled for whoever the poor sod she was chasing was to stop as he'd bolted, instead of doing the sensible thing and scything his legs out with a box or some other large, throwable object. Lonwin sighed deeply.

"Figured you'd be intimidating bystanders by the time we got here. You want any help with that, or are we supposed to sit here yelling threats all day?"

Shidiyo wasted no time nor words as Master Lonwin bounded up the stairs to the apartment. It felt as if every one of his steps were three of hers, making it difficult for the young Padawan to keep up with the seasoned archivist. She could feel a degree of worry from Lonwin, but, as she ran after him, she couldn't quite tell what he was thinking about.

Even her training, however, hadn't prepared her for the lengthy run that the pair had done up the apartment's floors. Each one had felt the same, but as the two reached the ninth floor, Lonwin first and Shidiyo in close pursuit, the teenaged Jedi-to-be could feel her heart pounding in her chest and a lump in her dehydrated throat. Only through the intense focusing that she and Master Zad had practised for hours on end had helped her keep up with the Master.

She slowed as he did, but, as commotion was heard above, some sort of chase and yelling, Lonwin took off again, and, between deep breaths, Shidiyo sighed. She quickly ran after him, but she felt her physical endurance giving out. Merely stopping at the ninth floor was enough to begin the cramping process in her legs and lungs. She made it up four further floors some time shortly behind Lonwin to a strange sight: the Jedi Knight Kedoa, standing in front of a metal door, yelling at it, nose clutched in her hands. Shidiyo was intrigued - clearly, their target was inside. With the three of them there, though, Shidiyo knew that whomever was behing that door wouldn't be for much longer. "Who's in there?" Shidiyo asked, between her panting breaths.

Kedoa put a hand on her hip as she briefly looked down to the floor. She had heard the saying before: Be careful what you wish for. And of all the times for someone like Lonwin to finally show up, it was now - just in time for him to watch her make a damned fool of herself. Again.

Might as well explain while she could...

"I went here hoping to help the Judiciary get ahold of our bomber. Isstrev Villmud was the name," the Zabrak explained, her voice in a nasally tone on account of her nose still trickling blood. "Probably wasn't more than a goon, but any answers could give us a lead."

She bid them a shrug. "One problem though: Villmud's dead."

"What-- He...he's dead?!" the muffled voice on the other end of the door chimed in. "Oh...oh oh you-- You bastards! You killed 'im! You--"

"WE didn't kill him!" Kedoa snapped at the door. She looked back to her fellow Jedi.

"The Judicials found him and his little bombing partner behind the building. The bodies were dumped into a barrel. They searched his room on the floor above us, but said there was nothing of use. I checked myself, and it turns out they were right."

She then gestured to the door she had so unceremoniously faceplanted into earlier. "Then this little greaseball comes along! Clearly knows the man, but instead of spilling some information, he turns tail and locks himself in here!" she smacked a clenched fist against the metal, eliciting a loud bang that echoed down the hallway.
The door piped up again. "Oh no! I know what you Jedi do to people 'round these parts! All you...Force-folk and y'er tricks! And I ain't fallin' for it! Not me! No ma'am!"

"Haha! Right, RIGHT! The big bad Jedi!" Kedoa propped a hand against the doorframe, outright laughing at the notion despite practically seething at this point. "We're here to control your mind! Probe your memories! Steal your kidneys! That's why I'm standing here. Wasting time! TALKING TO YOU THROUGH THE DOOR!"

"That ain' funny! None a'this is funny!"

A shrill sigh escaped the Jedi Knight's lips, before she finally turned to Lonwin and Cuza. Kedoa lowered her voice.

"I'm busting this door down," she jutted a thumb towards it. "You two want to help me wring some answers out of this reprobate? The sooner we figure out who our bombers work for, the better."

Lonwin sighed again, deeper this time. He shook his head at Kedoa's tirade, chuckling a little as he did so.

"While I appreciate your enthusiasm, Kedoa, there is a way we tend to go about these things. It's a little bit more, hmmmm, refined, than your methods have been so far. Allow me to demonstrate."

He strode over to the door, moving the volatile Knight aside with a muttered "Excuse me". The door remained shut, but a little flutter of relief emanated from the other side. He leaned in towards the metal, speaking in as crisp and polite a manner as could muster.

"Excuse me, kind sir, but we really do need to have a little chat with you. You see, we found your friend Mister Villmud rather, er, dead, and it's a damn shame that he was because he has a lot of information we'd rather not lose track of. He was caught up in a bit of funny business earlier today, and so I was thinking, you being his friend and all-"

The shrill voice of the human behind the door cut across his perhaps unimpressive attempts at charm.

"I tol' youse, I dun't know nothing! Leave me be!"

Lonwin turned to Kedoa and rolled his eyes dramatically. To those who knew him well, a telltale glimmer of mischief would have been visible shining out. He turned back to the door.

"Are you really sure you don't know anything? It'd be awfully strange for you to scramble like you did if you really were clueless."

Lonwin paused for a second, but the little person behind the door seemed to have caught on to the direction he was going in, and remained firmly silent. The Jedi Master's voice gained a hard, irritated edge.

"Oh, bugger it, have it your way then. Stand back from the door please, or this may hurt!"

The tremulous voice got louder, with a tint of anger pushing through the fear in response to the hardness of Lonwin's voice. The resulting yell was probably meant to sound intimidating, but instead of coming off as a growl it was more a high-pitched whine.

"Sod off! I don't want anything to do with you Je-"

The little man didn't manage to get another word off before he was interrupted by a loud "Open Sesame!", followed by an almighty crash as Lonwin blew the door off its hinges. The metal door, structural-grade durasteel probably taken off of a scrapped starship, flew into the room almost fast enough to leave vapour trails, before tumbling to fix itself in the opposing wall, top-first. The cause of this tumbling was the unfortunate lowlife standing in front of it, who'd been clipped by it as it rushed inwards, though in this case being clipped included being hit across the entire front section of his body, including his face. He now lay sprawled on the floor, dazed and moaning slightly in pain. Luckily for him, he'd been leaning against the door as it flew inwards, and would be able to walk away with bruises. Unfortunately for him, one severely aggravated Jedi Knight, and a Jedi Master with three hand grenades on his belt and steel capped boots on his feet were shortly flanking him, both glowering down on him. Lonwin smiled slightly nastily.

"You alright?"

Listening to both Lonwin and Kedoa was certainly a new experience for Cuza. Sure, she knew that most Jedi didn't conduct themselves with the decorum of Master Zad, especially considering how draconian her methodologies were considered by most "normal" Jedi. That being said, the Padawan was still taken aback by the rather non-chalant use of sarcasm, threats, and casual emotion by the pair. Her eyebrows raised as the two talked at the voice behind the door, and Cuza tried not to think too hard about how the original target they had come here for was, apparently, already dead. She felt her own emotions, liberated in their actions by her peers, bubbling to the surface of her psyche. An odd mix of excitement, nerves, and anger washed over her. Why hasn't this guy opened the door yet? She asked herself.

A vaguely concerning revelation, but Cuza didn't truly understand its significance. For her, the man's being dead was an inconvenient irritation than anything.

Before she could think much deeper about things as Lonwin yelled and blew the door the man was hiding behind off its hinges. "Holy sh-" Cuza started, eyes widening. It had been a long time - in fact, perhaps the first time ever - she had seen a Jedi exert themselves in that way. Her hand instinctively went to her lightsaber, resting on its hilt. As Lonwin advanced, Cuza hid behind Kedoa, feeling very out of place in the situation. Best leave the talking to the experts, she thought to herself. Don't want to be thrown around like that door. Not that she thought she would, but the thought of it was pretty high on her list of things to avoid at all costs.

At the same time, Kedoa was almost ready to bust the door down herself. It would've been effortless. Perhaps come barging in, and have a lightsaber at the little worm's throat before he could even think about a response. Thankfully for her, though, Lonwin's surprising eagerness to assist rather than chastise her frankly unorthodox and inappropriate attitude - and perhaps due in part to the poor young Padawan that had no doubt been dragged into all this - seemed to quench the flames of the Jedi Knight's own frustration.

Or maybe the catharsis was owed to how she had just...you know, completely trashed the late Villmud's apartment. But they needn't know that. Either way though, the thought was quickly pushed to the back of her mind as, following a brief exchange of words, Lonwin bid her and Cuza a look. Master Kin had told her of that look...

The door was ripped off its hinges by the invisible hand of the Force. The screech of bending durasteel and crashing of furniture echoed down the halls of the apartment complex, reaching decibels that even her earlier shouting couldn't hope to match. For several long seconds, Kedoa, having only a hand on her saberstaff, stared in awe. She peered into the doorframe from behind Master Lonwin, before momentarily looking to Cuza. Unsurprisingly, she shared the Knight's shock.

"...Damn!"

Kedoa relinquished her weapon, allowing the saberstaff to snap back into the mag-lock connected to the strap on her back.

"I was just going to kick it in. The lock seemed weak enough..." the Zabrak mentioned as she had sauntered into the room. "But you do you, I suppose. He's still alive, I hope?"

Lonwin hunched down to get a closer look at the man he'd probably just committed some sort of crime against. His injuries from the unexpected encounter with a wild flying door seemed rather mild, just some bruising, and potentially a bit of disorientation from how he'd landed after getting launched. This, unfortunately for him, meant he was perfectly eligible for further question. Lonwin looked up to meet Kedoa's eyes.

"Luckily, yes, he's still alive, at least until I get annoyed with him. I guess you probably want to get a first crack at questioning him, before he gets a chance to recover from the shock."

Their quarry's eyes fluttered open at this, and he started whining fearfully. A slender, shifty-looking type, he matched his voice in every way, including in how annoying it was. His face screamed for someone to punch it, preferably in a satisfying manner across the jaw with a minimum of fuss or blood. He, unfortunately, was awake enough to make a noise consciously by this point, and looked to be thinking of having a scream of his own. Hopefully, cutting him off with a couple of pointed questions would be enough to avoid that distressing eventuality.

"Have at him, Knight. Oh, and don't be too hard on the poor bugger. He seems a little out of sorts."

Lonwin wasn't, of course, advocating for restraint out of any sense of kindness. Kedoa had already shot her bolt when it came to trying to scare the guy, and he'd clearly been getting bolder by the end of her line of demands. If they went back to her trying to scare him, he'd clam up tighter than a miser's bank account. Better that he do that little job. After the stunt he'd pulled with the door, it'd be a rare Underling that wouldn't be a little terrified of him. Besides, it'd been far too long since he'd last gotten to play at being the Bad Cop in the routine.

Thankfully for him, Kedoa seemed to have taken that hint, as much as she probably would've preferred to simply beat the information out of him right here and now. "Right," she said, before firmly gripping the little worm by the cuff of his ratty shirt. Amidst another pained groan, he was hoisted from the floor, and dragged to a nearby sofa. The man's room seemed a tad better than Villmud's apartment; Real furnishings, and not the makeshift garbage she had seen beforehand. He clearly had some semblance of care for his abode, as well as enough money to afford a halfway decent place in this run-down dumpster fire of a tenement.

"Why'd you come up there? To his apartment?" was the first thing she asked, crossing one arm over the other. Honestly, his current condition was quite ideal - too dazed to exert himself or pose any physical threat, but cognizant enough to tell what she was saying.

"H-Heard th' ruckus..." the man grumbled. His shaky, calloused hands reached up to rub at his bruised face. "Th-Thought he... That he--"

"Break-ins must be commonplace here," Kedoa interrupted, making an offhand gesture to the durasteel door on the ground. Against a more conventional, lowlife criminal, this place was probably the safest room in the building. "But you climbed a whole floor to investigate. I heard the name you said. You know Villmud, don't you?

"W- We...we're- He's just a friend a' mine! A-an acquaintance--!"

"Your friend is responsible for a bombing that killed thousands! A hospital!"

That was enough to shake some of the cobwebs loose. He pried his quivering hands from his face, holding them out as if in a pitiful attempt to shield himself from an incoming fist. But the Zabrak didn't relent. Though she was no longer screaming, her tone was firm.

"And that's a dodgy answer. Where do you know him from?"

"...I, I--"

Kedoa exhaled sharply through one nostril, the other still somewhat bloody. She looked to Lonwin, in case he wanted a turn.

Cuza stood by and watched the Zabrak interrogate the poor underling that had been caught up in all this. She couldn't help but feel bad for the man, who seemed more terrified than she could ever imagine someone looking. She'd be lying if she said that she wasn't uncomfortable with how things were going. First the crazy ride into the apartments, and then the actual interrogation itself. It didn't feel right, and it certainly didn't line up with the conduct and decorum that her master had set as an expectation for her.

However, both the Zabrak and Lonwin were her seniors. Not to mention much physically larger, and probably more accomplished than she was. Cuza probably couldn't do anything aside from meek protest - and how would that look in front of the person who may have had information that they needed? A perfect excuse for her to submit to the intimidation that the situation had afforded her.

She stayed behind the other two who were talking to the suspect. Crossing her arms and furrowing her brow, she tried to look as tough as she could, glancing upwards and downwards of the stairwell, checking to see if anyone had been disturbed by the ruckus. Even as a fly on the wall, she could learn what to do, or even what not to do.

Lonwin facepalmed dramatically, his deep sigh throwing off the intensity of Kedoa's interrogation. He'd hoped that she'd know what to do in the situation, but her inexperience in actually getting information out of someone as opposed to simply yelling at them was blatantly obvious. She wasn't even giving time for the poor schmuck to speak. Pushing himself upright, he strode from his position leaning against the wall, and pulled Kedoa aside by her arm.

"I think you've had enough time with our friend over here. We're supposed to be getting information from him, not giving him a bloody heart attack. You haven't even asked what his name is. Probably best if you let me handle this one."

Kedoa looked annoyed at him, but nodded and said nothing in response. Lonwin smiled thankfully, then turned to consider the unfortunate soul still shivering on the couch. With a gentle whisper, a chair floated across the room, settling in across from him. Lonwin sat down with a creak, staring across at the man on the sofa. He tried to smile at him, rather pleasantly too, but it only seemed to scare the poor man more. The door still vibrating from where it was jammed into the wall probably wasn't helping things.

"I'm terribly sorry about the actions of my associate here. I'm afraid she's rather enthusiastic about this whole gig, and forgot all about her training for this. Tell me, what's your name?"

The man on the couch wasn't quite as emboldened as he had been before by Lonwin's gentle tone, but still straightened up a little. The fear that had shut him up, and by the looks of it stained his pants, subsided somewhat, though nothing quite yet came to replace it.

"Wha- why- why d'you want to know that?"

Master Lonwin's smile widened from a gentle, disarming crescent into a worrying grin. Reaching out with the Force, he lifted the two pillows alongside his target, and slammed them together, his head neatly fitting in between them. The impact sounded with a resonant slap, causing the man in front of him to yelp with fear and flinch away, his delayed reaction coming only after the pillows alongside him had moved to hover a metre away on either side.

"Wrong answer! How about we try that again?" He yelled gleefully.

"I- ah- Dethrin! Dethrin Brellis! My name's Dethrin Brellis!"

The pillows started spinning menacingly. Lonwin raised his eyebrows expectantly at Dethrin, the flicker of hostile humour in his eyes now an inferno.

"Thank you, Dethrin. You've been very helpful so far. Now, my colleague over here is going to ask you a couple of questions. If you answer them truthfully, we will walk away satisfied and not come back. If you lie, I will beat you to death with your own door. Not answering is not an option. Are we quite clear?"

Dethrin nodded very promptly. His shaking had stopped, replaced by the unnatural stillness of the truly terrified. He didn't say a word in response. Perhaps he had seen Lonwin subtly wiggling the door to underscore his point.

"Now, Kedoa, you were saying?"

The Zabrak had been watching much of their exchange. It went without saying that she was still angry. It might as well have been her resting expression during this entire blasted mission. From the rescue efforts at the hospital, the briefing with Master Zad, to the long climb down into this smog-ridden hellhole. From her first steps into this dump, two dead suspects, an empty apartment, to...this. This sniveling wretch. And who was Lonwin to chastise her, anyway? He blew off the damned door. He should consider himself lucky he didn't kill the little rat! 'Not giving him a bloody heart attack,' she recalled, thinking in his fancy accent. Master Kin was right! This man was positively mad! She wanted so badly to argue with him...

But quickly realized that wouldn't help...

"Villmud," Kedoa said simply. Still blunt, but with a noticeable attempt to seem a little less...scary. "You know him. From where?"

Dethrin swallowed hard, doing a pretty poor job hiding that he didn't want to answer that question.

"Look, we're... Ahm... We're just neighbors! Been livin' here a while now, ya' see--?"

Even so much as a sigh from the Jedi Knight was enough to silence the man. Kedoa shook her head, and let her crossed arms fall to her sides. "Just neighbors, huh? That why the mere question is making you soil yourself? Villmud's part of something bigger than a whelp like you. Now he's dead, and you're trying to tell me you don't know anything about him that can bring some justice to this damned place for once?!"

The Zabrak stood across from the cowering little man, her exceptional height only adding on to the red-skinned woman's imposing appearance. Dethrin was sweating buckets at this point, his beady eyes staring in shock into the sharp, crimson ones of the Jedi before him. Kedoa leaned forward a bit, her voice growing cold.

"Or should we probe those memories locked up in that little head of yours. Hm--?"

"No!" he blurted out, like a lying child suddenly faced with the gravity of his parents' punishment. "N-no... No no, we're-- He's a... Was a..." He hung his head. "...a work friend."

Kedoa's brow perked. "And where were you working?"

"I... I can't tell you!"

The Jedi took a moment to process that. After a second or two, she blinked, and rose to stand up straight. The beaten-down door stirred again - likely Lonwin using it as another threat, and an act that immediately elicited a nervous shiver from their victim. But in a peculiar display of restraint, Kedoa intervened, holding a hand up and willing the wobbling door to fall still. That wasn't to say Kedoa was the Good Cop in this partnership, though.

Dethrin was as stiff as a board. Somehow, her reticence only made him even more terrified. In fact, though she had fallen silent, her comrades could probably feel what was coming. Her fists clenched, and then relaxed as the Zabrak let out a long, drawn-out breath through her still-bloody nose. She turned to her left, and began pacing quietly up to a nearby window, the artificial light of the Coruscanti underworld casting a long shadow of her silhouette across the room. For a time, Kedoa gazed out into the smog-laden outside world.

"...I--"

Dethrin nearly jumped out of his skin as, with a single gesture of the Zabrak's hand, the window shattered into a million pieces. The screeching grind of steel on steel filled the room as even the bars were ripped from the frame they covered. But before the quivering man could even choke out a response, the Jedi Knight's clenched fist shot into the air. An invisible hand seemed to snatch him by the feet, and hurl him kicking and screaming across the entire room. Then, just as quickly, he came to a stop.

"Ah-- AAH, NO--! NO NO NO--!"
But rather than dangling upside-down in his own apartment, he now found himself hovering above thirteen stories worth of empty space outside his window, the invisible hand of the Force the only thing between him and a stain on the pavement below.

"AAAAHAA-- NO P-PLEASE!" the pathetic wretch outright shrieked, as he flailed helplessly in the air. "PLEASE, D-DON'T K--!"

"Tell me who you scumbags work for!" Kedoa growled through gritted teeth. "NOW!"

"I-I CAN'T! THEY-- THEY'LL SKIN ME ALIVE IF I--!"

"If anyone's skinning you alive, boy, it'll be ME!"

The mysterious force that held him aloft suddenly relinquished grip on one of Dethrin's feet. He squealed again as he fell a few inches.

"OKAY OKAY OKAY!" he spluttered hysterically. "I-- I'LL TELL YOU! I'LL TELL YOU!"

"We're waiting!"

"ISS-- VILLMUD AND I HAD A CONTRACT! B-BLACK SUN! WEAPONS DEALIN', SENTIENT-TRAFFICKING--!"

"You're a SLAVER--!"

"NO I--! I...I was- I was j-just a factory worker! Nothin' more!" Dethrin pleaded. "P-put food on th' table! I 'ad nothin' to do with them n' their bombin's! I ran off four months ago!"

"Where are they!?"

"Please...PLEASE NO!" he was practically sobbing at this point. "...they'll--!"

"TELL ME!"

"THE INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT!" he howled, hands trembling with absolute terror. "BOTTOM OF TH' UNDERBELLY! BELOW TH' WORKS! I...I AIN'T PROUD! I... I did what I... Wh..."

The bawling man's weeping soon died down into little more than a pathetic whimper. His tear-filled eyes struggled to stay open amidst the imminent death that awaited him should the Jedi let go.

But as if an unseen deity heeded his prayers, he felt himself being pulled back through the window. The Jedi's voice grew cold again.

"You people make me sick..."

She chucked the limp, crying body back into the couch, landing flat on his back atop the worn-down cushions. He didn't even seem to react to that, instead filling the room with quiet sniffling.

Cuza watched and listened as Master Lonwin and the Knight Kedoa interrogated the man that they had caught. She had tried to make herself useful in a sort of harmless, out-of-the-way fashion. With the two larger, elder Jedi taking care of their quarry, she felt it best to stay out of their way, lest she say or do something to piss them off. As they questioned Dethrin, Cuza kept watch, standing in the door way, arms crossed, trying to look as tough and capable as an awkward, sixteen-year-old Padawan could. She couldn't help but feel out of her depth, but also intrigued with the way in which her two peers were going after Dethrin.

After all, it was a far cry from how Zad had taught her that the Jedi do things. Further, the trio, to Cuza, felt more like cops than any member of a religious order, which made her feel cool. She couldn't help but think back to one of the first times she went off planet with her master, and how, in a serene, yet somehow infuriating manner, Zad had handled even the most difficult and trying situations. Yet, listening to Lonwin and Kedoa, the pair clearly handled things much differently. Perhaps there was more to the Jedi approach than what she had been led to believe? After all, Zad was known among Cuza's peers to be, well, a stick in the mud. Cuza usually didn't mind, and had gotten used to the more boring aspects of her teaching. But ever since she had left the speeder that Lonwin had nearly crashed straight into the ground, she couldn't help but think about how different her experience would be with someone else leading her teaching.

Cuza had been so lost in thought that, despite her "watching" the doorway, if anyone was brave or determined enough, they likely would have been able to walk right by her. That was, until she heard the crash. Cuza's eyes widened in surprise as she spun around to see Kedoa having smashed a window and holding Dethrin outside of it. She mouthed some words of shock that she wouldn't dare utter in front of her master. If Zad's methodology was a scalpel, this was the cudgel. She watched, helplessly and certainly silently as Kedoa interrogated the man, hanging from his certain death. As he was finally brought up from the window and thrown onto the couch, Kedoa and Lonwin could see the shocked Padawan standing in the doorway, eyes full of both admiration and fear.

Kedoa, meanwhile, was practically seething. She was furious. More than furious. In fact, there were few words in Galactic Basic that could even come close to describing just how absolutely livid she was. Had she been born a human rather than a crimson-skinned Zabrak, her face would have been just as red. And were it even possible, perhaps steam would be coming out of her ears as well. As the irregular pattern of Dethrin's sobbing drowned out her heavy breaths, she reached up with a gloved hand, and wiped the blood from her nose.

Then, just as quickly, she let her arm dangle at her side. Kedoa's sharp gaze turned to Lonwin, and then the thoroughly awestruck Padawan Cuza. The fire in her heart was swift to die down, and the resulting catharsis quickly manifested in the form of...fatigue. When was the last time she had slept?

She regarded the blubbering man on the couch one more time, before making for the empty doorframe. Kedoa filed past the trembling Padawan, seeming to shuffle into the hallway rather than march.

"We're done here..."