Star Wars: The Force Wills (SW SI)
- Thread starter Keiran Halcyon
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- star wars self insert violence
Humm.... maybe not sonic sensors in space, no?
Chapter 30
A/N: Update! Bridging chapter to new arc. Enjoy. The Force is with my Patrons, they support me and keep me going. Many thanks to them.
Chapter 30
The Azure Star and the surviving ships of her battlegroup exited hyperspace and after a brief burn, entered orbit of Taris.
As much as both Anakin and I would've liked to formally transfer our 'flags' to the giant Mandator dreadnought, it was just too slow strategically and you couldn't fight a dynamic war when your ship first needed political support from the Senate Loyalist Committee to go anywhere. There was already a sentiment that the Azure had to be pulled back even further to the Core, which was only tempered by verified intelligence that the CIS was still pushing a Providence dreadnought down the Hydian in an effort to take back Bandomeer, now that the frontline battlespace had been pushed forward to Botajef.
The last week had been filled with mopping up and securing the system. Especially urgent was orbital debris cleanup and securing tactical intelligence from CIS wreckage, whilst the 10th Army waged a ground campaign against the CIS droid divisions holding out on Bandomeer itself and liberating the local population.
Most of my journey back to Taris had been spent in the Fleet command room, replaying a simulation of the battle for the system - trying to see if I could've done any better at any point.
"At it again, Snips?"
My hands paused on the holo-interface and Anakin entered through the room's door in the seemingly infinite space.
"Always something to learn, Master," I commented lightly, trying to not seem flustered even as I had to admit to myself that I was probably beating a dead horse by now.
"True," he acknowledged. "How many times have you run this sim?"
It was pointless lying to him about this. "Thirty three."
"I think and I know you agree, that you've pretty much exhausted every possibility for learning from this and now you're reaching into realms of obsession. That is why I think a more profitable distraction is in order." His tone was very serious, almost to the point of being alarming. From behind his back he produced something thick and rectangular, which was wrapped in prettily decorated flimsiplast.
Suddenly he smiled brilliantly, "Happy 16th Birthday, Ahsoka."
He could've hit me with a Force Push… what?
"Is it really that date?"
Anakin simply nodded and held out the gift.
I reached out and accepted it slowly. "You do know, we Togrutans don't really celebrate it as a rule."
Birthdays were celebrated among humans and a general majority of species in the galaxy. There were naturally variations depending on culture and Togrutans who lived off-world pretty much adopted it to fit in. On Shili, life passage celebrations were linked to the growth of your lekku and not the strict passage of the galactic and local calendar. There were also celebrations for hunting akul and adding the trophy teeth to your headband.
"Yes, but you grew up most of your life on Coruscant, so…"
"Then thank you for the gift… Anakin."
He smiled at me and nodded pointedly at the gift.
I carefully tore open the folds of the gift wrap and pulled it off to reveal… a book.
An actual, bound hardcover black book that had the markings of age and a lot of wear. Despite this, its large title was still eminently visible and glistening. The imitation leather was smooth, with the decorative indentation clear and giving a pleasant tactile feel. Prominent in the center, stood proudly the Jedi symbol, with flaming wings surrounding an eight pointed star, bisected with a symbolic lightsaber. Above it stood simply in an unassuming large font, 'The Jedi Path'.
It felt surreal as I opened it slowly. It was actual paper, printed using trees grown from one of the agriworlds that the Jedi AgriCorps maintained.
Prominent on the first page was the list of contributing authors; Grandmaster Fae Coven, Yoda's immediate predecessor, Crix Sunburris, a legendary Jedi starfighter pilot, Restelly Quist, a Jedi Chief Librarian… on and on it went. The true value of this particular book came from whose hands it had passed through, from master to padawan, each adding their own insights in footnotes and scribbles.
Yoda was the first owner, he passed it on to Thame Cerulian, then Count Dooku. Dooku gifted it to his padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn. Jinn passed it on to Obi-wan and then to Anakin.
Now, it was my turn.
Even as I held it in my hands I could sense the vague impressions of their previous owners through the Force.
"I figured what better gift to a Consular than knowledge," he commented with a grin, which faltered slightly. "Though what to get for your next birthday is going to be an interesting puzzle."
"Keep the actual books coming," I grinned eagerly. Owning paper books that I could actually read in my hands with turning pages was an extreme novelty in this galaxy.
"I'll keep that in mind. Now my other bit of business is that we have a shuttle to catch back to Coruscant. Intelligence has been seeing a marked increase in criminal activity relating to the war. It's gotten to the point where the Council has decided to return Jedi on light duty after a stint on the front lines, back to the homefront to deal with these criminal cases."
"As if we didn't have enough on our plates," I grumbled.
"True, but since you've been my padawan we haven't really done anything in the criminal underworld. It's experience you'll need, especially after the war."
Anakin did have a point on that. Whatever happened with regard to the Jedi Order, the Republic and the rising of Palpatine's New Order - operating in the criminal underworld was something I needed to learn.
"Very well, Master. When do we leave?"
"First thing in the morning tomorrow, there'll be a ceremony to hand over command of the Azure back to Captain Mirach tonight."
The four day journey back to Coruscant was done in a Nu-class shuttle. It was spent mostly in lessons from Anakin on the criminal underworld; covering topics such as smuggling, thievery, illegal slicing, murder and assassination. Another prominent part was organized crime, cartels and syndicates. He even pointed out a number of pages in 'The Jedi Path' that had relevant annotations on how Jedi handled a criminal.
It was a distinct mindset difference.
No way could a Jedi just bust out a lightsaber and start swinging. Much like in my old life, there were Jedi rules of engagement governing the use of deadly force on criminals. It was even stricter in a way, since a Jedi had many powers generally at their disposal that could non-lethally take down criminals. The only issue I had with it, was that a Jedi's powers and skills differed. Those not as skilled with Telekinesis for example, couldn't go round and reliably disarm criminals in a hostage situation, for example. There was no mention of that little qualifier in The Jedi Path.
In my typical student style, I didn't hesitate to throw scenarios and what ifs at Anakin that poked holes in the Jedi criminal RoE.
Criminals so rarely fit into the rules and even took advantage of them. On the other hand, no one, including me, wanted Jedi to be Street Judges ripped straight out of Mega-City One. Yet on quite a few occasions, given the stories of Obi-wan and Anakin's dealings in the underworld, that's what Jedi inevitably ended up doing in effect. We might not swing a lightsaber in judgment, but our actions and inactions mattered a lot, especially when we could sense the effects.
It was particularly relevant in my mind lately as I was sensing another 'wiggle' in the timeline's probability approaching. Transmigrated memories or not, the ripple effect of my own action and inaction, was going to impact dozens of lives immediately in the short term and hundreds in the long run as the ripples pushed outward.
Such was the time-sensitive urgency of the specific case Anakin had been assigned, that when we emerged from hyperspace into the insane bustle of space traffic around Coruscant, we didn't even bother heading to the Jedi Temple. Instead the shuttle pilot was taking us directly to the southern hemisphere of the city planet.
We also didn't even bother to go through the hassle of finding parking for the shuttle. The pilot simply steered us to our grid destination and into one of many slum districts, where he opened the rear doors and we simply jumped out.
We were in our more 'traditional' Jedi attire, me in my Hapan outfit and Anakin in his classical brown-black slightly armored outfit. Even so we didn't need our boot jets to be able to precisely control our landing onto an empty spot in the street.
This street was nearly twenty levels down from the Coruscant surface, in one of the major trenches that allowed for deeper access.
It wasn't precisely what I'd call a 'slum', but that was only from an old Earth perspective. The area was festooned with neon signs and small shops for many varieties of goods. It looked more like Cyberpunk-lite than anything. The denizens of this area were mostly non-human, with Ithorians, Aqualish and Rodians being in the majority and droids moving to and fro.
You also began to see the quality of health of the denizens begin to decline down here. It was not uncommon to witness someone coughing their lungs out in the open street or people passed out against the wall, sleeping, with signs of spice addiction and so on.
The sounds of the district were the constant whine of passing speeders overhead, booming music from certain levels, police sirens and the background din of various languages.
Anakin had no problem in knowing where he was going in the maze-like quality of these streets and we turned a corner down the way into another adjoining street, filled with yet more booth shops on both sides. The level of dirt and litter cluttering the floors became more pronounced. The overflowing trash bins also added the wonderful aroma of rot that could only come from mixing the food leftovers of a dozen species into one ghastly brew.
The street dead-ended in a nightclub that was blaring the kind of music that made my montrals ache. Inside was our target.
Car Affa was a male Weequay arms dealer. Instead of doing everything above board, his greed for profit had him go to the black market, whereby he obtained military grade Republic equipment that was usually stolen or even hijacked in some way. It was a big galaxy and the logistics of the war was equally big and spread out, which made the chances of shipments being stolen much higher. Now Affa was using his ill gotten gains and trying to make even more money by selling the arms to the CIS, who would pay top price to keep abreast of Republic weapon R&D.
This is when Republic Intelligence got involved, intentionally planting weapons with hidden trackers in the black market to see where they went and to whom. This flagged Car Affa as the central point in a rather extensive web of contacts. Obtaining him, his knowledge and most importantly his client list would go a long way to make a dent in the flow of illegal weaponry.
Anakin paused at the club entrance, "All clear on the plan?"
"Yes, Master," I simply nodded and walked to the side, covering the entrance. Intel on the building indicated it was the only public entrance exit, aside from the emergency escapes, that would require internal sensors to register a disaster before they would unlock.
He nodded at me, walked through the automatic doors and into the club.
Now it was a question of waiting. To one side of the street, next to the entrance, a pair of typically disreputable looking Weequay were simply hanging out. Both were armed, with the older of the pair even missing part of his right leg, which had been replaced with a metal peg leg. Of course, the picture wouldn't be complete without them having a Kowakian monkey-lizard riding on Mr. Peg Leg's shoulder.
They were annoying as that mosquito that bothered you in the night, always humming in your ear, but they were eminently useful to anyone in the criminal underworld. Small, semi-sentient, able to follow orders and even learn to perform complex tasks, three clawed fingers and opposable thumb, they could even mimic language - making them the best thieves and infiltrators in the galaxy. Most considered them just pests.
They were pests in a sense, just very clever ones.
The moment was coming.
Two doors… no, three doors were there for me to walk through.
One led to the easy path, the second the known path, the third was the hard path.
Along each, various other doors were opened or closed. Which to choose? What did I want to achieve? What was best for me? What was best for all those affected? All these ripples shooting outwards.
The sound of a lightsaber igniting hit my montrals, followed barely a moment later by heavy blaster fire.
Two seconds later the doors to the club opened, allowing a stream of sentients to stampede out in fear and barrel down on me.
Hard path it is.
I turned my body right side forward and pushed out with a bladed hand towards the stampede.
The first club denizen that tried to bowl me over, found themselves pushed aside, but still able to continue past me. I imagined myself as the rudder of a ship, parting the sea.
This didn't stop a certain sticky fingered alien from taking advantage of the crowd.
I sensed my left lightsaber plucked from my belt. That was a cunning trick. The thief had a bond decoupler, which had neutralized my lightsaber's grip on my belt in an instant.
My will and the Force reached out.
The stampede ended, the club and street now almost empty and I waited patiently for Anakin to return.
When he emerged from the doorway a few minutes later with a very docile Car Affa, handcuffed with mag bracers, I gave him my best raised eyebrow expression.
"Master, I guess we both have a lot to learn about subtlety in these situations and not causing extensive property damage?"
"It's just a few scorch marks, no lightsaber damage. Nothing, a bit of cleaning and a coat of paint can't fix."
"Sure, we just have the Force to thank that no one lost their balance and wasn't trampled to death," I retorted, as I flexed the Force a bit.
"Yeah, you got me there." He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, then frowned when he sensed my Force usage. His eyes looked up behind me and blinked. "Uh, Snips, something you want to tell me?"
"Oh, him?" I jerked a thumb behind me as I reeled the thief in with TK. It was made so much easier by the fact that my lightsaber was gripped in his hand. He resembled a statue as I pressed in on him from every direction, whilst making sure not to go beyond the boundary of his skin and leaving enough room for his chest to move and a small hole for air to pass at his mouth. It was my poor man's version and bastardization of Force Stasis. The poor Patrolian pickpocket was very frightened and unable to understand what was happening to him. I stopped him, suspended about a meter in the air to my side. "Pickpocket who thought it was a good idea to steal a Jedi's lightsaber in the chaos of the stampede." I released his head from stasis, "Relax thief, you're about to have a heart attack."
"Sorry! Sorry! P-ple- please let me go," the thief babbled, his stalky red eyes twitching frantically.
"No," I said shortly.
"He's just a pickpocket, my padawan," Anakin pointed out reasonably. "You've stopped him, congratulations. The most a court would convict him of would be three months, unless he's a repeat offender."
"Oh, he's definitely a repeat offender." I pulled the decoupler from the thief's webby palm and held it up to Anakin. "And I think we need to make a little example. Can't exactly send the message to the underworld that it can be open season on our lightsabers."
He nodded after a moment's thought, "True, what did you have in mind?"
I stepped forward to face the Patrolian and grinned nastily, "A few questions and I can sense a lie, so truth only. Name?"
"Du- Du- Duvnar, master Jedi."
"Technically speaking, he's the master," I gestured to Anakin. "And that was a lie. Do you want me to stasis you again? Do you want to test me again?"
"Nooooo! S-s-sorry. It's Bannamu, my name is Bannamu."
I widened my eyes in mock delight, "And the truth shall set you free… eventually. Now, was this a crime of opportunity or did you intentionally set out to steal a lightsaber?"
"Uh- uh, not sure how to say, it's both? Yes, I was hired to steal a lightsaber, planning to go to the Temple and pickpocket any Jedi that was leaving, but this opportunity fell in my lap."
"And who hired you?"
Bannamu clamped his mouth shut and his fear spiked drastically, "I- I- can't. Please. My client is not someone to betray. He'll kill me. Even if I'm in prison, even in your Temple, he can get me."
I turned to Anakin, "Still think this is just a pickpocket case, master?"
"No, I can sense it too," he sighed and looked at his own criminal quarry. "Are you sure you can handle this?"
"Yes, go ahead. I'll catch up."
"Good luck." He pulled from his belt a spare set of handcuffs and handed them to me, then shoved Affa's shoulder and escorted him out into the adjoining street proper.
I smiled at Bannamu, "Now, you're going to do exactly what you planned to do."
The Petrolian's mouth gaped open, "What?"
"You're going to sell my lightsaber to your client."
It didn't take the pickpocket long to connect the dots of what I was asking. "So… I get paid. I'm in the clear and… he doesn't have any reason to come after me. I couldn't possibly know that a Jedi could do all that trickery with it."
I gave my best sneaky, evil grin and was rather amused how it actually seemed to be instilling a growing sense of horror in the Patrolian, "Exactly."
Nack looked up and down the street, his experienced eye finding every nook and cranny where cover was, potential sight lines and where a sniper could hide themselves. He took all that in, mentally rehearsed a number of scenarios and only then stepped forward with deceptive casualness, heading straight towards the location of his contracted thief.
Spider Arms Hostel in the Slum District G-16 was one of those strange locations in the lower reaches of Coruscant. In any database of buildings of the area, it was listed as low cost housing. Yet everyone knew that it was a den that housed many different types of riff-raff criminals on the lower rungs of the pecking order. The kind that the big fish could hire and discard at will or use as scapegoats.
Those who called the place home or worked out of it even knew the score, yet they soldiered on, hoping for the big break or the one lucky score which would net them the big credits that would let them move up the ladder. It was mostly a fool's hope.
The Rodian who serviced the front desk of the hostel met his eyes and immediately lowered his head, working his terminal to unlock the elevator.
Nack walked in and pressed the button for the ninth floor. The elevator was still in good condition for its age, but his nose picked up the awful scents of many disgusting events that had occurred in it; excretions from overdoses, spice, death sticks and even the copulation of a few species. He was going to have to take a bath at home, maybe have Ione massage his shoulders while he was at it.
The doors opened and he walked down the corridor to his destination.
Something was… odd. Nack couldn't put his claws on it but he got that little shiver down his back when either something was wrong or… No, it should be fine. This was just Bannamu he was meeting after all.
He tapped on the doorbell button and waited, while adjusting his black and violet formal suit. The thing was always riding up his back, guess Denebrian silk just didn't agree with his scaly skin.
The door opened and Bannamu was seated at his computer desk as he always was. The Patrolian was always searching Coruscant maps for the best places to ply his craft and still be able to get away.
The thief gestured with a webby hand, "Mr. Movers, welcome, do come in," .
Nack stepped in, the door closed behind him and a slight shiver hit his spine. His paranoia flared and…No, relax, he thought to himself. "Do you have it?"
"I wouldn't have called otherwise." The thief suddenly had a lightsaber hilt in his hand and placed it on top of his terminal screen. In sight, but well out of Nack's reach. That was rather more smarts than he had thought the little thief had. "Payment?"
He narrowed his golden slitted eyes to study the weapon. It had the definite look of the real deal, a rather beautiful example. A mix between metal and inlaid with a white material that looked like it was ivory of some kind. It also had the definite wear signs of a five fingered hand.
He reached into a pocket, produced a pouch of high denomination credit chits and chucked it at Bannamu's desk.
The Patrolian caught it in a flash of reflex and immediately began counting with the energy that only one of its kind possessed. Barely seconds passed and the alien was done. He hesitated for a moment before reaching up, placing the lightsaber within reach of Nack.
"Be very careful with that."
"I know very well what these are capable of Bannamu," he retorted with irritation and picked up the beautiful hilt. It didn't really fit his hand well, the former wielder had a much smaller hand. Nack gave a sniff, blinking in surprise at how fresh the smell of the wielder was on the weapon. Bannamu's pungent smell was more recent and muddled things somewhat. "How did you get it in the end?"
"Funny thing, I was at the club on 20th street, working on my plan for nicking one near the Jedi Temple, when suddenly boom! Chaos. Blaster shots and out of nowhere, a Jedi fighting a Weequay. So quick, all very exciting, but I ran… too dangerous. So many bolts flying everywhere!"
Nack grunted, "Then how did you get this one?"
"Turns out the Jedi had a partner waiting outside the club and as she was distracted by the stampede around her, trying to keep her footing," Bannamu, made a quick grabbing motion with his hands.
"That is quite lucky, if you're telling the truth," Nack acknowledged.
"Of course I am."
The Trandoshan assassin thought carefully and had to admit, as unlikely as it sounded on face value, he somehow believed the thief. His nose also helped as he could refine the smell on the lightsaber further as definitely coming from an alien, young and female. He studied the blade carefully for its activation switch, found it and aimed the business end to his left where there was enough empty space. The button was difficult to properly press with his big fingers but he eventually managed.
The snap-hiss echoed through the dim room and it was lit with an eerie green glow from the blade.
It felt so surreal to finally have this weapon in his hands. He was an assassin and though he had been trained by the Malkite to use poison as his primary tool, there wasn't a hand held weapon in the galaxy he hadn't at least learned the basics of. From the simple vibrosword to complex very illegal disintegrators, he'd seen it all, yet the one exception was this seemingly impractical weapon.
In the hands of a Jedi this became glorious and very deadly.
Very slowly, carefully he tilted the hilt, enjoying the sound of the blade as it buzzed and hummed through the air in response to the movement.
Feeling satisfied he thumbed the activation switch again and the blade retreated into the hilt with an electronic screech. He clipped the weapon into a pouch on his belt, right next to his own blaster's holster. That way it was safely out of sight. It wouldn't be wise to be seen carrying the weapon out on the street. There hadn't been a Trandoshan Jedi in a few hundred years, the last being Master Sskeer.
He idly waved to the little thief and left the room.
"Goodbye Movers, do call again!"
He grunted in acknowledgement and returned to the elevator. At the reception he flicked a credit chit to the Rodian, who caught it deftly out of the air. That was the price of doing business here and keeping it private. Nack knew that the blasted alien kept a careful record of comings and goings, then occasionally sold that info if the price was right or the info was significant enough.
At the door, that blasted paranoia flared again. He carefully looked up and down the street. He kept his hand close to his blaster as he stepped out, then began walking towards the nearest public transport terminal.
Only when it came into view a few minutes of walking later did he tie his suit jacket closed to shield it from view. No one cared about being armed in the slums, but it would be a different story closer to home.
A glance at a terminal info display directed him to the appropriate line and he swiftly boarded the first large airbus that was available, finding a seat right at the back.
Various sentients boarded steadily over the next five minutes, whilst Nack found his thoughts drifting and once again turning to the question that had plagued him over the last few weeks.
Who was trying to kill him?
He'd always had a feeling for these things. It was how he was such a successful assassin. The problem with success was that it engendered competition and envy. The market for assassination on Coruscant was extensive, but those who could enter it and stay there without getting caught or killed themselves were very few.
The nature of the job also changed as you moved throughout the many levels of the city-world. In the undercity and deeper levels, anyone who killed for a living was common, gangs and thugs who'd kill for meager scraps or a few credits and a meal. Then it slowly changed as you went higher and the trappings of civilization grew, until at the surface, you were dealing with the galactic movers and shakers. Assassination here had to be so subtle that if anyone died to an obvious assassination, then something had gone wrong or it was amateur hour.
Could it be that another Malkite Poisoner had set up shop and wanted to muscle in or even outright kill him then take over? Nack wouldn't put it beyond any of them.
The airbus doors hissed and closed, before it steadily rose into the air, then joined the traffic lanes, steadily gaining speed and altitude until it could smoothly insert itself into the main flow heading away from the sector.
The problem he now saw was his infamy.
He had worked for decades to get where he was. All his rivals and targets over the years, dead to his poisons, administered in the most unsuspecting and creative ways. In addition to the fact that he was well adept at running rings around the Coruscant Security Force. Nothing did more to intimidate an investigator than when his entire family suddenly came down with non-lethal food poisoning and a warning note. If that didn't work, it was just a matter of finding the right lever or weakness, everyone had one.
Now his gut told him someone still alive had finally flipped and was looking to even the score. It was strong enough that he had begun to take steps… acquiring a lightsaber was just the final one.
He had no illusions that he would be able to fight his adversary directly with it, but it was just the thing to cut open anything that they could potentially throw in his way and it would be a nasty surprise if things got close. A simple on and off, maybe a slice or two, no need for anything fancy like a Jedi could achieve.
"Beautiful night."
His interlocutor was seated a row ahead of him and idly looking out the window of the airbus. Her white and blue montrals pointing up from her head and dangling lekku… oh, a Togruta. He wasn't sure why she had decided to speak to him. Trandoshans weren't well regarded in the galaxy as a general rule. Perhaps it would be nice to have some conversation that wasn't from either Ione or Cassilyda. Not that the latter said much, as her role was his bodyguard, not to engage in small talk.
"How can it be beautiful? Can't see a single star with all this light pollution," he said.
"It depends on your perspective. See the many lights of the city-world as your stars, the patterns they form, the shapes and you can find beauty." She held up her two hands to the window, forming a square with her fingers and moved it around, as if she was some artist finding the perfect image to draw or paint. He noted how the muscles moved under the light orange skin of her arms. They were rather pronounced for someone her age, if he had to judge from the length of her lekku. In fact, she might be in her late teens.
He had last studied her species ages ago during his time with the Malkite and he couldn't specifically recall ever having to kill a Togruta for a contract. After so long, their faces all just tended to blend together.
Nack looked, taking her advice. Yes, she was right, he could see it somewhat.
Then she raised a datapad, aimed it toward the window and with a tap of a button took a picture. "That's going in the database," she declared with satisfaction, then returned the pad to her lap, working on it out of sight.
"Are you a photographer or something?"
She giggled, "Oh no, this is just a hobby."
He idly nodded in understanding, "A good thing to have, I suppose." He wondered when was the last time he just did something so carefree or fun like that. Even before this annoying paranoia had fallen on him, it had been all business. What relaxation he had, was found in casinos and the arms of females. Those didn't really count, the true moments of fun were fleeting or never found.
"If you don't have one, you should really consider taking one up. It provides variety in life, beyond the dull day to day of job, travel and the other routine things that intrude."
"And how does one so young get such wisdom?" Nack yawned and froze.
His nose… her smell… it matched the lightsaber!
He abruptly tried to move and bring out his blaster… but found suddenly… he could not!
It was as if the air around him had become inflexible.
Invisible walls were molded to his body, as if he was encased in carbonite.
The Togruta Jedi turned her head slightly with a quirky smile, "Oh, you'd be surprised what we learn at the Temple, Nack Movers."
The only thing he could do was breathe and move his eyes frantically. Even his jaw couldn't move, so he was unable to speak.
She stood up from her seat and leaned against the backrest facing him. She was a rather pretty specimen and her outfit was seemingly designed to emphasize the signs and curves of her youthful flowering. It also showed him she was no slouch physically, with burgeoning muscles of her bare lower abdomen on full display. She folded her arms and regarded him thoughtfully.
How? How had she found him? Bannamu wasn't so incompetent to fail to scan for trackers in the lightsaber. He tried to take a deep breath and calm down, finding his center. Panicking in this situation would be pointless. She was using some form of Force trickery… locking him absolutely in place…
"Now what to do, what to do… that is the question," she massaged her forehead. "Handing you over to the CSF is pointless."
She had also done her research on him… apparently.
"You did arrange to steal a lightsaber. A direct crime against the Jedi Order. Not many know, but we do have correctional accommodation in the Temple for people like you."
What? He thought frantically.
"It'd be hard to make that stick though. In the end, it's a petty crime, no matter how valuable a lightsaber is to a Jedi. You're a Coruscant citizen and we'd be forced to hand you over eventually." She tapped her chin and nodded to herself. "I think we should go to your apartment and discuss matters in a more private fashion. I'm going to let you go now. Understand that you have my lightsaber currently on your belt, its emitter is pointed at your left leg. It will take just a thought from me to activate it at any time.
"If you think such a ghastly act is beyond me, think again. We Jedi don't kill sentients unless we're left with no other choice. I know it won't kill you, you're a Trandoshan who can regrow limbs with time, but there's a long way to go before we reach that point, something I think you understand very well, Mr. Movers." She leaned forward and her eyes seemed to lance out into his brain… in that moment he knew, she was speaking the truth.
The invisible carbonite suddenly vanished and he could move again… praise the Scorekeeper!
The young Jedi stepped forward and sat to his right as if she hadn't just threatened to dismember him, a casual, dangerous smile on her face.
"What do you want, Jedi?" he hissed under his breath, eyeing the passengers who obviously hadn't heard or seen anything untoward.
"That's obvious, I want my lightsaber back, but suddenly I find its current position very useful. As I said, further discussion will occur at your apartment and my thoughts will be made known to you. For now, calm down… relax…" Her words seemed to worm their way through his ears and into his brain and the tension, stress, anger and indignation just seemed to fall off his very being. He hadn't felt this relaxed in… he couldn't even remember. It felt like he could just nod off for a little nap right now. "No, no sleep."
"Bloody Jedi," he said, but there was no heat or fire behind it.
"Yes, believe it or not, I can perfectly understand the sentiment. We still have thirteen minutes until our destination. We can talk about anything but my motives or we can both sit silently. Your choice."
She might as well have just said he should shut his mouth. There was nothing going through his head at the moment but the reason why this young Jedi was practically holding him hostage. It was a rather odd thing being on this side of such an experience. Was this how the people who he had intimidated with his poisons felt?
It was not a feeling he cared for and so whatever she thought she could accomplish, she was sorely mistaken. Nack deliberately pulled his tongue, concealed by his lips and spiky teeth, towards the back right corner of his mouth, behind his inner jaw, then triggered a small implanted transmitter.
There, now the Jedi would get a warm reception when they arrived at his apartment.
She pulled from her side the datapad she had used and for a moment he was afraid that she had something that would detect his transmission, but no, the screen was showing his profile picture and Judicial file. Oh, so her little photography conversation was just an excuse so her datapad could get an angle for a facial match. Marginally clever.
"I'm curious about one thing in the time we have… why poison? Trandoshans are all about the hunt, racking up points with the Scorekeeper. Poison is not exactly an honorable weapon. I doubt the Scorekeeper awards many jagannath points for hunting prey with that."
Well, she was somewhat aware of Trandoshan culture.
He hissed a laugh in response, "She awards no points for that, Jedi. That's the price of doing business on Coruscant. Every weapon the Scorekeeper would have me use leaves too much chance of it actually being traced and used against me. You've got my file there… does it say I'm actually responsible for the assassinations attributed to me?"
"Of course not, 'suspected', 'highly likely," she replied wryly, tapping the datapad pointedly.
"There you have your answer. It's unfortunate, but I made my peace long ago not earning the Scorekeeper's favor on Coruscant. I occasionally make trips off-world to Kashyyyk to keep my point tally reasonable."
His last words were a pointed needling to see how the Jedi would react. If he couldn't wring her little neck then he could at least do this. He knew what she valued as a Jedi and the casual mention of the fact that he hunted wookiees for sport and their pelts was usually enough to get under any sentient's skin. It was one of the primary reasons his species was so maligned in the galactic community. He expected at the very least an angry scowl from this one.
Her only response was to switch off her datapad and pocket it, whilst giving him a bland look that showed quite plainly she wasn't impressed by the attempt.
Their ride continued further in silence and Nack waited patiently with the experience of a hunter.
The airbus' droid intelligence announced, 'Next stop, Jrade District.' .
When the bus had landed, she stood first but didn't move, merely giving a gracious gesture that he should lead the way.
He hated putting an enemy at his back but obeyed anyway.
It was nice to be back in the infinitely better surface district, with clean streets, tall pristine buildings with not a single bit of graffiti in sight. The mix of species walking to and fro now became less exotic, with a distinct majority being those who leaned to the humanoid form.
As they walked, the Jedi always keeping to his right blindspot, he considered using the crowd to try to lose her. Maybe grabbing a passing female or child and throwing them into her body. It'd be a pain to regrow a leg, but perhaps…
No, this didn't feel like a situation to use such a desperate move. The loss of a limb for a Trandoshan was easier to deal with, but really was only done as a last resort when the only other option was death.
Ione and Cassilyda would be ready by now. The Jedi had foolishly left her lightsaber in his belt and would be helpless against the weapons she'd face when the door to his apartment would open.
The Habea Highrise came into view, towering over them with over a hundred and twenty floors of prime living space. Giant lights and the passing illumination of two skylanes gave the building a glorious appearance against the darkness of the Coruscant sky. He remembered when he had first moved in; the feeling of accomplishment it had brought to finally be able to afford to live on the surface of the city-world, clawing his way up day by day for years. He'd be damned by the Scorekeeper if he let some young upstart Jedi ruin all his work.
They passed into the building and through reception. The human who ran the front desk raised an eyebrow at him as he saw the Jedi. Idiot probably thought he was bringing home the evening's entertainment, even though he should know better.
The Jedi headed first into the elevator so she could position herself at his back.
He was tempted to simply body check her as the doors closed, take a chance that he could stun her with his bulk so she couldn't even think to use her Force trickery.
Again his common sense stopped him. There was no guarantee he would be able to daze her at all. Jedi as a rule were physically stronger than was natural. At least, that was what the Malkite had taught. Nack had never fought against any Jedi physically before.
The elevator door opened onto the 80th floor and he walked left as casually as he could. He could barely hear the Jedi's footsteps as she followed.
The warm dark brown hallway lined with soft carpeting was completely devoid of anyone at this late hour, all the tenants safely behind their locked doors. Thankfully the weapon Cassilyda would use was by its nature a quiet thing and no one would come running.
He stopped at the front door to his apartment, stepped to the side, so his bodyguard would have a clear shot the moment the door opened, then typed in the unlock code on the keypad.
The keypad blurted an almost rude tone and flashed red, the small screen displaying 'Incorrect Code'.
What? He thought in confusion.
Reasoning he had simply mistyped by accident, he tried again, going slower.
6-2-2-5-7-8-5-3-7
'Incorrect Code - Warning building security will be alerted on a 3rd unsuccessful attempt.'
"Having trouble?" The Jedi asked with amusement.
He whirled on her and hissed, "What did you do?"
"Ah yes, blame the Jedi when something inexplicable happens. Did you perhaps consider that your two friends, who I can sense beyond the door and are feeling very tense and anxious, simply changed the code?"
Nack gritted his teeth in frustration, there goes that surprise. "But they wouldn't lock me out."
"Really? Neither would betray you to your fate if it risked their own skin? Are they that loyal?"
He considered it for the briefest of moments and shook his head, "They know that to cross me is death. They're paid very well. Don't think you can divide us with your trickery."
The Jedi rolled her eyes, "Then why lock you out? When they clearly knew you were coming with hostile company thanks to that little distress transmitter in your jaw." His astonishment that she knew that too threatened to break his composure. "But as much as we could debate the matter, the proof is in the eating, as they say." The Jedi stepped to the right side of the door and pointed down. "Stand here, now."
He gritted his teeth at her presumption but reluctantly complied. Even as he did so his paranoia flared to new heights… What was this? Why did he feel like this? How could just standing in front of a door, where his girlfriend and bodyguard was waiting on the other side, feel like this?
The Jedi raised her hand towards the door and made a mild sweeping gesture with her fingers.
The door screeched.
Its motors protested as an invisible force tugged against it… the battle of forces seemed to struggle, then abruptly the machinery lost and the door slammed open into its housing.
Nack had barely a moment to take in the state of his apartment. A table turned over, chairs shifted to create obstacles, the lights off…
Foolish, low light wouldn't help against Trandoshan eyes.
He saw Cassilyde kneeling behind the table, her white face, with red eyes surrounded by turquoise rings. Eyes that narrowed in hate at seeing him, his own dart rifle shouldered and aimed right at him. The darts held the most potent Sennari poison he could make. Kneeling by her side, was Ione, her pretty yellow eyes frantic, both her hands on his bodyguard's shoulder.
He took in their body language and felt like a fool.
Cassilyde, clearly seeing him, pulled the trigger twice.
The dart gun explosively hissed in rapid succession.
Nack gasped at the betrayal
He was also gaping at the two darts that hovered in the air… stopped mere millimeters from his neck.
Then the dart rifle was ripped out of Cassilyde's hands, streaked across the room and bent itself in half.
The two females were frozen in astonishment at the seemingly impossible happening.
Then the Jedi calmly slipped her way inside past him.
A mere few moments ago he would've shouted at them to shoot and failing that, to run.
The appearance of the young Torgruta confused them and gave them further pause, whatever their natural instincts were screaming at them.
One of the lethal darts at his neck zipped through the room in the blink of an eye and now hovered dangerously close to Cassilyde's eyes.
The bodyguard flinched and fell backward in reflex. Ione began to scream but her eyes suddenly closed. She inexplicably just slumped backwards, seemingly fainting from the shock.
The Jedi made a casual upwards gesture with her finger.
"Whoah, what?!"
Cassilyde was abruptly in the air. At first he thought she'd jumped. Her species were not known as Terrelian Jango Jumpers for nothing, but the speed and lack of control of her movement said once again, it was the Jedi doing this. It looked almost like Cassilyde was briefly stuck in zero gravity.
"Ah, there it is, tricky," the Jedi said and just like that his bodyguard's eyes closed, her head lolled in unconsciousness. She now gently pushed her hand down and the Terrelian sank to the floor. "Whew, that was close. A moment later she would've jumped through the window." She turned to him and smiled, "I trust you realize what happened?"
He carefully took a step back and was relieved when the dart the Jedi was holding with her powers stayed where it was. He took a deep breath and composed himself. It didn't take much thinking to conclude what had happened and how blind he'd been.
"They're lovers, seeing each other behind my back. They took this opportunity to try to kill me."
She nodded, "Insightful and correct, but incomplete." A flicking gesture with a finger and the dart buried itself tip first into a wall. "Close the door behind you and show me the Terellian's room."
He really should just… leave, but the Jedi's lightsaber on his hip narrowed his options. She had saved his life and that earned her some points but he'd be a stupid fool to suddenly think she was actually on his side. Jedi had their whole protection of everyone code they lived by.
Nack stepped forward, slammed the door controls in annoyance and switched on the lights.
He led the way down the small hallway of the apartment and turned to the first door on his left, thumbing the door controls. It swished open. Two suitcases packed and ready to go. The Jedi entered behind him and looked around.
The bed was immaculate and made up with near military precision, as typical for Cassilyda - those types of neatness habits ingrained from her her time in the Terellian military had never left her. He wondered how many times the two had carnal relations on this bed.
He hadn't smelt a thing. It only made him more impressed at the dedication and attention to detail it demonstrated. To fool his nose was not easy.
The Jedi gestured towards the left suitcase and it abruptly popped open, spilling the clothes neatly folded inside onto the floor. Then three thin datapads hovered into the air, slowly coming to a stop before him. Nack narrowed his eyes as the screens powered themselves up and showed…
His clawed hands snatched the pads out of the air and he growled as he read one of the Malkite poisoning techniques described in great detail; a poison recipe that was administered via odorless gas delivered from a hidden device mounted in a light fixture.
Cassilyda had somehow found and copied his entire database, every Malkite manual…
"Do you see?"
Nack could only nod. Cassilyda was teaching herself everything, probably even teaching Ione as she went along. They had finally learned enough, planned to kill him and take his place. She even had a list of the contact details of all his previous clients.
Now his mind turned to the burning question that remained.
"Why Jedi?"
"Well, when my lightsaber was stolen it was only natural I try to get it back. So I followed the trail to Bannamu and then to you. Yet, look at this little intrigue of betrayal and potential murder I discovered when I began looking. A good thing too. Can you imagine the Malkite techniques in the hands of amateurs?"
Nack could well imagine what would happen. For all that his database was extensive, there were some hard lessons and knowledge that was only learned by word of mouth and experience from a Malkite master. If these two little fools thought they could use the arts by just reading. At best they'd kill themselves and rid the galaxy of their stupidity, at worst, they could poison entire buildings or a significant part of a Coruscant sector if it went airborne.
"Even if they were apprehended and put in prison, well, I don't foresee anything good from that either." He frowned at the young Jedi, was that just a turn of speech or was she being literal? "The Terellian will probably try one of the poisons that you can cook up in the field and make a terrible mess, killing some prisoners and herself in the process."
He thought about it and found it plausible, there were a few poisons he knew to make from common ingredients you could scrounge together in a prison situation. It'd just require access to the kitchen and opening up a cleaning droid.
"Anyway," she sighed heavily and her face showed a deep frustration. "Here's what's going to happen. You will soon be contacted by someone, by the name of Cassandra. They will give you procedures and contact protocols-"
"Hold on just one second," Nack couldn't believe his ears. "Are you… turning me into an informant?"
"Oh no, a little bit more than that, Mr. Movers. You are hereby conscripted into my little network and when I have a job for you, you will do it."
Nack couldn't help it and burst out laughing. The sheer gall! Who did she think she was? She barely looked old enough to be of consenting age!
His laugh was abruptly silenced when an invisible iron grip manifested around his mouth and clamped it shut.
His eyes widened in fear… if she moved that grip to his neck…
"Don't be so loud, Mr. Movers," she rebuked him gently. "I'm not offended by your skepticism. I rather welcome it. There is no better shield than that disbelief. As I was saying, you're now an agent in my network, willing or not. If you refuse, then I can promise you this. Inspector Divo will first thing in the morning find a message on his holonet account and a package on his desk containing one of the darts fired tonight." His eyes widened and before he could even think of turning around to rush out of the room. "It's already gone. You won't find it."
He didn't believe her and pulled back, testing her invisible grip on his face.
She shrugged, the grip vanished.
He walked back to the main living room. Sure enough, the dart in the wall and the other one that should be lying somewhere near the overturned table was nowhere in sight. He had prepared those darts with his own hands. The poison on them had been used in most of his kills.
Nack turned around in anger as the Jedi walked into the room, she merely waved a single remonstrating index finger of her hand, shaking her head in warning. "No violence Mr. Movers. You will comply. Understood?"
"What possible use could you have for me? Aren't you a Jedi?"
"You're an assassin, not exactly hyperspace physics to deduce why I want you as an agent."
"You're a Jedi!" He said, as if he needed to remind her.
She chuckled, "I am. Really Mr. Movers, bringing you 'to justice'" her voice turned pompous and mocking, "is about as effective at stopping evil and death as it would be confiscating a single blaster pistol from circulation. You're a weapon. So, the moment you get a contract on someone's life, you will contact Cassandra, with all the details, then carry out your contract."
Things began to make sense. "And if I should get a contract on someone you don't want dead?"
"Then you will use a poison that will only make them appear dead and we'll go from there in apprehending your client, while keeping your reputation intact as much as possible. However, there may come a time when I or someone in my network might need your services. At which point you will make yourself available."
"Since when do Jedi use blackmail?"
She laughed, "Oh, you'd be surprised Mr. Movers. Now, enough prevarication. Are you in or do I need to contact the good Inspector Divo?"
He felt like the words just didn't want to leave his mouth but finally hissed, "Fine, yes, whatever."
"Good, now that wasn't so hard was it?" she asked mockingly, then began walking to the front door.
"Hey…" He cut himself off when he heard a click at his belt. In the next moment her lightsaber squirmed its way out of the holster, zoomed across the room and into her waiting hand. "What's your name?"
"You can do your own research about that. It wouldn't be hard. Otherwise you'll address me as Fulcrum."
"Well, Ms. Fulcrum," he said sarcastically. "What do you suggest I do about these two?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"You're the one with the blackmail, I'm your agent now apparently, you're a Jedi. Aren't you going to tell me to not kill these two?"
She frowned, closing her eyes for a brief moment and shook her head. "Unless you want to commit suicide at this point, I'm not telling you to do a damn thing. If you let them go, they're going to keep trying to kill you. The blundering attempts will be amusing for you, but it will catch innocent people in the crossfire." Fulcrum attached her lightsaber to her belt and paused her hand just before the front door controls. "Another thing, should I hear you set one foot on Kashyyyk and I will know if you do. Then you will find yourself visited by another of my network's members, who will devise an amusing ending for you by his standards, but one which you will regret every second of."
Every word she spoke seemed to carry unnaturally and hammer into his brain.
He tried his best to appear unaffected by the sheer weight her words carried but somehow fear seemed to worm through his body everywhere, "Whatever, many places in the galaxy to get points, Ms. Fulcrum."
She opened the door and left.
888888888888888888888888888888
Chapter 30
The Azure Star and the surviving ships of her battlegroup exited hyperspace and after a brief burn, entered orbit of Taris.
As much as both Anakin and I would've liked to formally transfer our 'flags' to the giant Mandator dreadnought, it was just too slow strategically and you couldn't fight a dynamic war when your ship first needed political support from the Senate Loyalist Committee to go anywhere. There was already a sentiment that the Azure had to be pulled back even further to the Core, which was only tempered by verified intelligence that the CIS was still pushing a Providence dreadnought down the Hydian in an effort to take back Bandomeer, now that the frontline battlespace had been pushed forward to Botajef.
The last week had been filled with mopping up and securing the system. Especially urgent was orbital debris cleanup and securing tactical intelligence from CIS wreckage, whilst the 10th Army waged a ground campaign against the CIS droid divisions holding out on Bandomeer itself and liberating the local population.
Most of my journey back to Taris had been spent in the Fleet command room, replaying a simulation of the battle for the system - trying to see if I could've done any better at any point.
"At it again, Snips?"
My hands paused on the holo-interface and Anakin entered through the room's door in the seemingly infinite space.
"Always something to learn, Master," I commented lightly, trying to not seem flustered even as I had to admit to myself that I was probably beating a dead horse by now.
"True," he acknowledged. "How many times have you run this sim?"
It was pointless lying to him about this. "Thirty three."
"I think and I know you agree, that you've pretty much exhausted every possibility for learning from this and now you're reaching into realms of obsession. That is why I think a more profitable distraction is in order." His tone was very serious, almost to the point of being alarming. From behind his back he produced something thick and rectangular, which was wrapped in prettily decorated flimsiplast.
Suddenly he smiled brilliantly, "Happy 16th Birthday, Ahsoka."
He could've hit me with a Force Push… what?
"Is it really that date?"
Anakin simply nodded and held out the gift.
I reached out and accepted it slowly. "You do know, we Togrutans don't really celebrate it as a rule."
Birthdays were celebrated among humans and a general majority of species in the galaxy. There were naturally variations depending on culture and Togrutans who lived off-world pretty much adopted it to fit in. On Shili, life passage celebrations were linked to the growth of your lekku and not the strict passage of the galactic and local calendar. There were also celebrations for hunting akul and adding the trophy teeth to your headband.
"Yes, but you grew up most of your life on Coruscant, so…"
"Then thank you for the gift… Anakin."
He smiled at me and nodded pointedly at the gift.
I carefully tore open the folds of the gift wrap and pulled it off to reveal… a book.
An actual, bound hardcover black book that had the markings of age and a lot of wear. Despite this, its large title was still eminently visible and glistening. The imitation leather was smooth, with the decorative indentation clear and giving a pleasant tactile feel. Prominent in the center, stood proudly the Jedi symbol, with flaming wings surrounding an eight pointed star, bisected with a symbolic lightsaber. Above it stood simply in an unassuming large font, 'The Jedi Path'.
It felt surreal as I opened it slowly. It was actual paper, printed using trees grown from one of the agriworlds that the Jedi AgriCorps maintained.
Prominent on the first page was the list of contributing authors; Grandmaster Fae Coven, Yoda's immediate predecessor, Crix Sunburris, a legendary Jedi starfighter pilot, Restelly Quist, a Jedi Chief Librarian… on and on it went. The true value of this particular book came from whose hands it had passed through, from master to padawan, each adding their own insights in footnotes and scribbles.
Yoda was the first owner, he passed it on to Thame Cerulian, then Count Dooku. Dooku gifted it to his padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn. Jinn passed it on to Obi-wan and then to Anakin.
Now, it was my turn.
Even as I held it in my hands I could sense the vague impressions of their previous owners through the Force.
"I figured what better gift to a Consular than knowledge," he commented with a grin, which faltered slightly. "Though what to get for your next birthday is going to be an interesting puzzle."
"Keep the actual books coming," I grinned eagerly. Owning paper books that I could actually read in my hands with turning pages was an extreme novelty in this galaxy.
"I'll keep that in mind. Now my other bit of business is that we have a shuttle to catch back to Coruscant. Intelligence has been seeing a marked increase in criminal activity relating to the war. It's gotten to the point where the Council has decided to return Jedi on light duty after a stint on the front lines, back to the homefront to deal with these criminal cases."
"As if we didn't have enough on our plates," I grumbled.
"True, but since you've been my padawan we haven't really done anything in the criminal underworld. It's experience you'll need, especially after the war."
Anakin did have a point on that. Whatever happened with regard to the Jedi Order, the Republic and the rising of Palpatine's New Order - operating in the criminal underworld was something I needed to learn.
"Very well, Master. When do we leave?"
"First thing in the morning tomorrow, there'll be a ceremony to hand over command of the Azure back to Captain Mirach tonight."
The four day journey back to Coruscant was done in a Nu-class shuttle. It was spent mostly in lessons from Anakin on the criminal underworld; covering topics such as smuggling, thievery, illegal slicing, murder and assassination. Another prominent part was organized crime, cartels and syndicates. He even pointed out a number of pages in 'The Jedi Path' that had relevant annotations on how Jedi handled a criminal.
It was a distinct mindset difference.
No way could a Jedi just bust out a lightsaber and start swinging. Much like in my old life, there were Jedi rules of engagement governing the use of deadly force on criminals. It was even stricter in a way, since a Jedi had many powers generally at their disposal that could non-lethally take down criminals. The only issue I had with it, was that a Jedi's powers and skills differed. Those not as skilled with Telekinesis for example, couldn't go round and reliably disarm criminals in a hostage situation, for example. There was no mention of that little qualifier in The Jedi Path.
In my typical student style, I didn't hesitate to throw scenarios and what ifs at Anakin that poked holes in the Jedi criminal RoE.
Criminals so rarely fit into the rules and even took advantage of them. On the other hand, no one, including me, wanted Jedi to be Street Judges ripped straight out of Mega-City One. Yet on quite a few occasions, given the stories of Obi-wan and Anakin's dealings in the underworld, that's what Jedi inevitably ended up doing in effect. We might not swing a lightsaber in judgment, but our actions and inactions mattered a lot, especially when we could sense the effects.
It was particularly relevant in my mind lately as I was sensing another 'wiggle' in the timeline's probability approaching. Transmigrated memories or not, the ripple effect of my own action and inaction, was going to impact dozens of lives immediately in the short term and hundreds in the long run as the ripples pushed outward.
Such was the time-sensitive urgency of the specific case Anakin had been assigned, that when we emerged from hyperspace into the insane bustle of space traffic around Coruscant, we didn't even bother heading to the Jedi Temple. Instead the shuttle pilot was taking us directly to the southern hemisphere of the city planet.
We also didn't even bother to go through the hassle of finding parking for the shuttle. The pilot simply steered us to our grid destination and into one of many slum districts, where he opened the rear doors and we simply jumped out.
We were in our more 'traditional' Jedi attire, me in my Hapan outfit and Anakin in his classical brown-black slightly armored outfit. Even so we didn't need our boot jets to be able to precisely control our landing onto an empty spot in the street.
This street was nearly twenty levels down from the Coruscant surface, in one of the major trenches that allowed for deeper access.
It wasn't precisely what I'd call a 'slum', but that was only from an old Earth perspective. The area was festooned with neon signs and small shops for many varieties of goods. It looked more like Cyberpunk-lite than anything. The denizens of this area were mostly non-human, with Ithorians, Aqualish and Rodians being in the majority and droids moving to and fro.
You also began to see the quality of health of the denizens begin to decline down here. It was not uncommon to witness someone coughing their lungs out in the open street or people passed out against the wall, sleeping, with signs of spice addiction and so on.
The sounds of the district were the constant whine of passing speeders overhead, booming music from certain levels, police sirens and the background din of various languages.
Anakin had no problem in knowing where he was going in the maze-like quality of these streets and we turned a corner down the way into another adjoining street, filled with yet more booth shops on both sides. The level of dirt and litter cluttering the floors became more pronounced. The overflowing trash bins also added the wonderful aroma of rot that could only come from mixing the food leftovers of a dozen species into one ghastly brew.
The street dead-ended in a nightclub that was blaring the kind of music that made my montrals ache. Inside was our target.
Car Affa was a male Weequay arms dealer. Instead of doing everything above board, his greed for profit had him go to the black market, whereby he obtained military grade Republic equipment that was usually stolen or even hijacked in some way. It was a big galaxy and the logistics of the war was equally big and spread out, which made the chances of shipments being stolen much higher. Now Affa was using his ill gotten gains and trying to make even more money by selling the arms to the CIS, who would pay top price to keep abreast of Republic weapon R&D.
This is when Republic Intelligence got involved, intentionally planting weapons with hidden trackers in the black market to see where they went and to whom. This flagged Car Affa as the central point in a rather extensive web of contacts. Obtaining him, his knowledge and most importantly his client list would go a long way to make a dent in the flow of illegal weaponry.
Anakin paused at the club entrance, "All clear on the plan?"
"Yes, Master," I simply nodded and walked to the side, covering the entrance. Intel on the building indicated it was the only public entrance exit, aside from the emergency escapes, that would require internal sensors to register a disaster before they would unlock.
He nodded at me, walked through the automatic doors and into the club.
Now it was a question of waiting. To one side of the street, next to the entrance, a pair of typically disreputable looking Weequay were simply hanging out. Both were armed, with the older of the pair even missing part of his right leg, which had been replaced with a metal peg leg. Of course, the picture wouldn't be complete without them having a Kowakian monkey-lizard riding on Mr. Peg Leg's shoulder.
They were annoying as that mosquito that bothered you in the night, always humming in your ear, but they were eminently useful to anyone in the criminal underworld. Small, semi-sentient, able to follow orders and even learn to perform complex tasks, three clawed fingers and opposable thumb, they could even mimic language - making them the best thieves and infiltrators in the galaxy. Most considered them just pests.
They were pests in a sense, just very clever ones.
The moment was coming.
Two doors… no, three doors were there for me to walk through.
One led to the easy path, the second the known path, the third was the hard path.
Along each, various other doors were opened or closed. Which to choose? What did I want to achieve? What was best for me? What was best for all those affected? All these ripples shooting outwards.
The sound of a lightsaber igniting hit my montrals, followed barely a moment later by heavy blaster fire.
Two seconds later the doors to the club opened, allowing a stream of sentients to stampede out in fear and barrel down on me.
Hard path it is.
I turned my body right side forward and pushed out with a bladed hand towards the stampede.
The first club denizen that tried to bowl me over, found themselves pushed aside, but still able to continue past me. I imagined myself as the rudder of a ship, parting the sea.
This didn't stop a certain sticky fingered alien from taking advantage of the crowd.
I sensed my left lightsaber plucked from my belt. That was a cunning trick. The thief had a bond decoupler, which had neutralized my lightsaber's grip on my belt in an instant.
My will and the Force reached out.
The stampede ended, the club and street now almost empty and I waited patiently for Anakin to return.
When he emerged from the doorway a few minutes later with a very docile Car Affa, handcuffed with mag bracers, I gave him my best raised eyebrow expression.
"Master, I guess we both have a lot to learn about subtlety in these situations and not causing extensive property damage?"
"It's just a few scorch marks, no lightsaber damage. Nothing, a bit of cleaning and a coat of paint can't fix."
"Sure, we just have the Force to thank that no one lost their balance and wasn't trampled to death," I retorted, as I flexed the Force a bit.
"Yeah, you got me there." He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, then frowned when he sensed my Force usage. His eyes looked up behind me and blinked. "Uh, Snips, something you want to tell me?"
"Oh, him?" I jerked a thumb behind me as I reeled the thief in with TK. It was made so much easier by the fact that my lightsaber was gripped in his hand. He resembled a statue as I pressed in on him from every direction, whilst making sure not to go beyond the boundary of his skin and leaving enough room for his chest to move and a small hole for air to pass at his mouth. It was my poor man's version and bastardization of Force Stasis. The poor Patrolian pickpocket was very frightened and unable to understand what was happening to him. I stopped him, suspended about a meter in the air to my side. "Pickpocket who thought it was a good idea to steal a Jedi's lightsaber in the chaos of the stampede." I released his head from stasis, "Relax thief, you're about to have a heart attack."
"Sorry! Sorry! P-ple- please let me go," the thief babbled, his stalky red eyes twitching frantically.
"No," I said shortly.
"He's just a pickpocket, my padawan," Anakin pointed out reasonably. "You've stopped him, congratulations. The most a court would convict him of would be three months, unless he's a repeat offender."
"Oh, he's definitely a repeat offender." I pulled the decoupler from the thief's webby palm and held it up to Anakin. "And I think we need to make a little example. Can't exactly send the message to the underworld that it can be open season on our lightsabers."
He nodded after a moment's thought, "True, what did you have in mind?"
I stepped forward to face the Patrolian and grinned nastily, "A few questions and I can sense a lie, so truth only. Name?"
"Du- Du- Duvnar, master Jedi."
"Technically speaking, he's the master," I gestured to Anakin. "And that was a lie. Do you want me to stasis you again? Do you want to test me again?"
"Nooooo! S-s-sorry. It's Bannamu, my name is Bannamu."
I widened my eyes in mock delight, "And the truth shall set you free… eventually. Now, was this a crime of opportunity or did you intentionally set out to steal a lightsaber?"
"Uh- uh, not sure how to say, it's both? Yes, I was hired to steal a lightsaber, planning to go to the Temple and pickpocket any Jedi that was leaving, but this opportunity fell in my lap."
"And who hired you?"
Bannamu clamped his mouth shut and his fear spiked drastically, "I- I- can't. Please. My client is not someone to betray. He'll kill me. Even if I'm in prison, even in your Temple, he can get me."
I turned to Anakin, "Still think this is just a pickpocket case, master?"
"No, I can sense it too," he sighed and looked at his own criminal quarry. "Are you sure you can handle this?"
"Yes, go ahead. I'll catch up."
"Good luck." He pulled from his belt a spare set of handcuffs and handed them to me, then shoved Affa's shoulder and escorted him out into the adjoining street proper.
I smiled at Bannamu, "Now, you're going to do exactly what you planned to do."
The Petrolian's mouth gaped open, "What?"
"You're going to sell my lightsaber to your client."
It didn't take the pickpocket long to connect the dots of what I was asking. "So… I get paid. I'm in the clear and… he doesn't have any reason to come after me. I couldn't possibly know that a Jedi could do all that trickery with it."
I gave my best sneaky, evil grin and was rather amused how it actually seemed to be instilling a growing sense of horror in the Patrolian, "Exactly."
Nack looked up and down the street, his experienced eye finding every nook and cranny where cover was, potential sight lines and where a sniper could hide themselves. He took all that in, mentally rehearsed a number of scenarios and only then stepped forward with deceptive casualness, heading straight towards the location of his contracted thief.
Spider Arms Hostel in the Slum District G-16 was one of those strange locations in the lower reaches of Coruscant. In any database of buildings of the area, it was listed as low cost housing. Yet everyone knew that it was a den that housed many different types of riff-raff criminals on the lower rungs of the pecking order. The kind that the big fish could hire and discard at will or use as scapegoats.
Those who called the place home or worked out of it even knew the score, yet they soldiered on, hoping for the big break or the one lucky score which would net them the big credits that would let them move up the ladder. It was mostly a fool's hope.
The Rodian who serviced the front desk of the hostel met his eyes and immediately lowered his head, working his terminal to unlock the elevator.
Nack walked in and pressed the button for the ninth floor. The elevator was still in good condition for its age, but his nose picked up the awful scents of many disgusting events that had occurred in it; excretions from overdoses, spice, death sticks and even the copulation of a few species. He was going to have to take a bath at home, maybe have Ione massage his shoulders while he was at it.
The doors opened and he walked down the corridor to his destination.
Something was… odd. Nack couldn't put his claws on it but he got that little shiver down his back when either something was wrong or… No, it should be fine. This was just Bannamu he was meeting after all.
He tapped on the doorbell button and waited, while adjusting his black and violet formal suit. The thing was always riding up his back, guess Denebrian silk just didn't agree with his scaly skin.
The door opened and Bannamu was seated at his computer desk as he always was. The Patrolian was always searching Coruscant maps for the best places to ply his craft and still be able to get away.
The thief gestured with a webby hand, "Mr. Movers, welcome, do come in," .
Nack stepped in, the door closed behind him and a slight shiver hit his spine. His paranoia flared and…No, relax, he thought to himself. "Do you have it?"
"I wouldn't have called otherwise." The thief suddenly had a lightsaber hilt in his hand and placed it on top of his terminal screen. In sight, but well out of Nack's reach. That was rather more smarts than he had thought the little thief had. "Payment?"
He narrowed his golden slitted eyes to study the weapon. It had the definite look of the real deal, a rather beautiful example. A mix between metal and inlaid with a white material that looked like it was ivory of some kind. It also had the definite wear signs of a five fingered hand.
He reached into a pocket, produced a pouch of high denomination credit chits and chucked it at Bannamu's desk.
The Patrolian caught it in a flash of reflex and immediately began counting with the energy that only one of its kind possessed. Barely seconds passed and the alien was done. He hesitated for a moment before reaching up, placing the lightsaber within reach of Nack.
"Be very careful with that."
"I know very well what these are capable of Bannamu," he retorted with irritation and picked up the beautiful hilt. It didn't really fit his hand well, the former wielder had a much smaller hand. Nack gave a sniff, blinking in surprise at how fresh the smell of the wielder was on the weapon. Bannamu's pungent smell was more recent and muddled things somewhat. "How did you get it in the end?"
"Funny thing, I was at the club on 20th street, working on my plan for nicking one near the Jedi Temple, when suddenly boom! Chaos. Blaster shots and out of nowhere, a Jedi fighting a Weequay. So quick, all very exciting, but I ran… too dangerous. So many bolts flying everywhere!"
Nack grunted, "Then how did you get this one?"
"Turns out the Jedi had a partner waiting outside the club and as she was distracted by the stampede around her, trying to keep her footing," Bannamu, made a quick grabbing motion with his hands.
"That is quite lucky, if you're telling the truth," Nack acknowledged.
"Of course I am."
The Trandoshan assassin thought carefully and had to admit, as unlikely as it sounded on face value, he somehow believed the thief. His nose also helped as he could refine the smell on the lightsaber further as definitely coming from an alien, young and female. He studied the blade carefully for its activation switch, found it and aimed the business end to his left where there was enough empty space. The button was difficult to properly press with his big fingers but he eventually managed.
The snap-hiss echoed through the dim room and it was lit with an eerie green glow from the blade.
It felt so surreal to finally have this weapon in his hands. He was an assassin and though he had been trained by the Malkite to use poison as his primary tool, there wasn't a hand held weapon in the galaxy he hadn't at least learned the basics of. From the simple vibrosword to complex very illegal disintegrators, he'd seen it all, yet the one exception was this seemingly impractical weapon.
In the hands of a Jedi this became glorious and very deadly.
Very slowly, carefully he tilted the hilt, enjoying the sound of the blade as it buzzed and hummed through the air in response to the movement.
Feeling satisfied he thumbed the activation switch again and the blade retreated into the hilt with an electronic screech. He clipped the weapon into a pouch on his belt, right next to his own blaster's holster. That way it was safely out of sight. It wouldn't be wise to be seen carrying the weapon out on the street. There hadn't been a Trandoshan Jedi in a few hundred years, the last being Master Sskeer.
He idly waved to the little thief and left the room.
"Goodbye Movers, do call again!"
He grunted in acknowledgement and returned to the elevator. At the reception he flicked a credit chit to the Rodian, who caught it deftly out of the air. That was the price of doing business here and keeping it private. Nack knew that the blasted alien kept a careful record of comings and goings, then occasionally sold that info if the price was right or the info was significant enough.
At the door, that blasted paranoia flared again. He carefully looked up and down the street. He kept his hand close to his blaster as he stepped out, then began walking towards the nearest public transport terminal.
Only when it came into view a few minutes of walking later did he tie his suit jacket closed to shield it from view. No one cared about being armed in the slums, but it would be a different story closer to home.
A glance at a terminal info display directed him to the appropriate line and he swiftly boarded the first large airbus that was available, finding a seat right at the back.
Various sentients boarded steadily over the next five minutes, whilst Nack found his thoughts drifting and once again turning to the question that had plagued him over the last few weeks.
Who was trying to kill him?
He'd always had a feeling for these things. It was how he was such a successful assassin. The problem with success was that it engendered competition and envy. The market for assassination on Coruscant was extensive, but those who could enter it and stay there without getting caught or killed themselves were very few.
The nature of the job also changed as you moved throughout the many levels of the city-world. In the undercity and deeper levels, anyone who killed for a living was common, gangs and thugs who'd kill for meager scraps or a few credits and a meal. Then it slowly changed as you went higher and the trappings of civilization grew, until at the surface, you were dealing with the galactic movers and shakers. Assassination here had to be so subtle that if anyone died to an obvious assassination, then something had gone wrong or it was amateur hour.
Could it be that another Malkite Poisoner had set up shop and wanted to muscle in or even outright kill him then take over? Nack wouldn't put it beyond any of them.
The airbus doors hissed and closed, before it steadily rose into the air, then joined the traffic lanes, steadily gaining speed and altitude until it could smoothly insert itself into the main flow heading away from the sector.
The problem he now saw was his infamy.
He had worked for decades to get where he was. All his rivals and targets over the years, dead to his poisons, administered in the most unsuspecting and creative ways. In addition to the fact that he was well adept at running rings around the Coruscant Security Force. Nothing did more to intimidate an investigator than when his entire family suddenly came down with non-lethal food poisoning and a warning note. If that didn't work, it was just a matter of finding the right lever or weakness, everyone had one.
Now his gut told him someone still alive had finally flipped and was looking to even the score. It was strong enough that he had begun to take steps… acquiring a lightsaber was just the final one.
He had no illusions that he would be able to fight his adversary directly with it, but it was just the thing to cut open anything that they could potentially throw in his way and it would be a nasty surprise if things got close. A simple on and off, maybe a slice or two, no need for anything fancy like a Jedi could achieve.
"Beautiful night."
His interlocutor was seated a row ahead of him and idly looking out the window of the airbus. Her white and blue montrals pointing up from her head and dangling lekku… oh, a Togruta. He wasn't sure why she had decided to speak to him. Trandoshans weren't well regarded in the galaxy as a general rule. Perhaps it would be nice to have some conversation that wasn't from either Ione or Cassilyda. Not that the latter said much, as her role was his bodyguard, not to engage in small talk.
"How can it be beautiful? Can't see a single star with all this light pollution," he said.
"It depends on your perspective. See the many lights of the city-world as your stars, the patterns they form, the shapes and you can find beauty." She held up her two hands to the window, forming a square with her fingers and moved it around, as if she was some artist finding the perfect image to draw or paint. He noted how the muscles moved under the light orange skin of her arms. They were rather pronounced for someone her age, if he had to judge from the length of her lekku. In fact, she might be in her late teens.
He had last studied her species ages ago during his time with the Malkite and he couldn't specifically recall ever having to kill a Togruta for a contract. After so long, their faces all just tended to blend together.
Nack looked, taking her advice. Yes, she was right, he could see it somewhat.
Then she raised a datapad, aimed it toward the window and with a tap of a button took a picture. "That's going in the database," she declared with satisfaction, then returned the pad to her lap, working on it out of sight.
"Are you a photographer or something?"
She giggled, "Oh no, this is just a hobby."
He idly nodded in understanding, "A good thing to have, I suppose." He wondered when was the last time he just did something so carefree or fun like that. Even before this annoying paranoia had fallen on him, it had been all business. What relaxation he had, was found in casinos and the arms of females. Those didn't really count, the true moments of fun were fleeting or never found.
"If you don't have one, you should really consider taking one up. It provides variety in life, beyond the dull day to day of job, travel and the other routine things that intrude."
"And how does one so young get such wisdom?" Nack yawned and froze.
His nose… her smell… it matched the lightsaber!
He abruptly tried to move and bring out his blaster… but found suddenly… he could not!
It was as if the air around him had become inflexible.
Invisible walls were molded to his body, as if he was encased in carbonite.
The Togruta Jedi turned her head slightly with a quirky smile, "Oh, you'd be surprised what we learn at the Temple, Nack Movers."
The only thing he could do was breathe and move his eyes frantically. Even his jaw couldn't move, so he was unable to speak.
She stood up from her seat and leaned against the backrest facing him. She was a rather pretty specimen and her outfit was seemingly designed to emphasize the signs and curves of her youthful flowering. It also showed him she was no slouch physically, with burgeoning muscles of her bare lower abdomen on full display. She folded her arms and regarded him thoughtfully.
How? How had she found him? Bannamu wasn't so incompetent to fail to scan for trackers in the lightsaber. He tried to take a deep breath and calm down, finding his center. Panicking in this situation would be pointless. She was using some form of Force trickery… locking him absolutely in place…
"Now what to do, what to do… that is the question," she massaged her forehead. "Handing you over to the CSF is pointless."
She had also done her research on him… apparently.
"You did arrange to steal a lightsaber. A direct crime against the Jedi Order. Not many know, but we do have correctional accommodation in the Temple for people like you."
What? He thought frantically.
"It'd be hard to make that stick though. In the end, it's a petty crime, no matter how valuable a lightsaber is to a Jedi. You're a Coruscant citizen and we'd be forced to hand you over eventually." She tapped her chin and nodded to herself. "I think we should go to your apartment and discuss matters in a more private fashion. I'm going to let you go now. Understand that you have my lightsaber currently on your belt, its emitter is pointed at your left leg. It will take just a thought from me to activate it at any time.
"If you think such a ghastly act is beyond me, think again. We Jedi don't kill sentients unless we're left with no other choice. I know it won't kill you, you're a Trandoshan who can regrow limbs with time, but there's a long way to go before we reach that point, something I think you understand very well, Mr. Movers." She leaned forward and her eyes seemed to lance out into his brain… in that moment he knew, she was speaking the truth.
The invisible carbonite suddenly vanished and he could move again… praise the Scorekeeper!
The young Jedi stepped forward and sat to his right as if she hadn't just threatened to dismember him, a casual, dangerous smile on her face.
"What do you want, Jedi?" he hissed under his breath, eyeing the passengers who obviously hadn't heard or seen anything untoward.
"That's obvious, I want my lightsaber back, but suddenly I find its current position very useful. As I said, further discussion will occur at your apartment and my thoughts will be made known to you. For now, calm down… relax…" Her words seemed to worm their way through his ears and into his brain and the tension, stress, anger and indignation just seemed to fall off his very being. He hadn't felt this relaxed in… he couldn't even remember. It felt like he could just nod off for a little nap right now. "No, no sleep."
"Bloody Jedi," he said, but there was no heat or fire behind it.
"Yes, believe it or not, I can perfectly understand the sentiment. We still have thirteen minutes until our destination. We can talk about anything but my motives or we can both sit silently. Your choice."
She might as well have just said he should shut his mouth. There was nothing going through his head at the moment but the reason why this young Jedi was practically holding him hostage. It was a rather odd thing being on this side of such an experience. Was this how the people who he had intimidated with his poisons felt?
It was not a feeling he cared for and so whatever she thought she could accomplish, she was sorely mistaken. Nack deliberately pulled his tongue, concealed by his lips and spiky teeth, towards the back right corner of his mouth, behind his inner jaw, then triggered a small implanted transmitter.
There, now the Jedi would get a warm reception when they arrived at his apartment.
She pulled from her side the datapad she had used and for a moment he was afraid that she had something that would detect his transmission, but no, the screen was showing his profile picture and Judicial file. Oh, so her little photography conversation was just an excuse so her datapad could get an angle for a facial match. Marginally clever.
"I'm curious about one thing in the time we have… why poison? Trandoshans are all about the hunt, racking up points with the Scorekeeper. Poison is not exactly an honorable weapon. I doubt the Scorekeeper awards many jagannath points for hunting prey with that."
Well, she was somewhat aware of Trandoshan culture.
He hissed a laugh in response, "She awards no points for that, Jedi. That's the price of doing business on Coruscant. Every weapon the Scorekeeper would have me use leaves too much chance of it actually being traced and used against me. You've got my file there… does it say I'm actually responsible for the assassinations attributed to me?"
"Of course not, 'suspected', 'highly likely," she replied wryly, tapping the datapad pointedly.
"There you have your answer. It's unfortunate, but I made my peace long ago not earning the Scorekeeper's favor on Coruscant. I occasionally make trips off-world to Kashyyyk to keep my point tally reasonable."
His last words were a pointed needling to see how the Jedi would react. If he couldn't wring her little neck then he could at least do this. He knew what she valued as a Jedi and the casual mention of the fact that he hunted wookiees for sport and their pelts was usually enough to get under any sentient's skin. It was one of the primary reasons his species was so maligned in the galactic community. He expected at the very least an angry scowl from this one.
Her only response was to switch off her datapad and pocket it, whilst giving him a bland look that showed quite plainly she wasn't impressed by the attempt.
Their ride continued further in silence and Nack waited patiently with the experience of a hunter.
The airbus' droid intelligence announced, 'Next stop, Jrade District.' .
When the bus had landed, she stood first but didn't move, merely giving a gracious gesture that he should lead the way.
He hated putting an enemy at his back but obeyed anyway.
It was nice to be back in the infinitely better surface district, with clean streets, tall pristine buildings with not a single bit of graffiti in sight. The mix of species walking to and fro now became less exotic, with a distinct majority being those who leaned to the humanoid form.
As they walked, the Jedi always keeping to his right blindspot, he considered using the crowd to try to lose her. Maybe grabbing a passing female or child and throwing them into her body. It'd be a pain to regrow a leg, but perhaps…
No, this didn't feel like a situation to use such a desperate move. The loss of a limb for a Trandoshan was easier to deal with, but really was only done as a last resort when the only other option was death.
Ione and Cassilyda would be ready by now. The Jedi had foolishly left her lightsaber in his belt and would be helpless against the weapons she'd face when the door to his apartment would open.
The Habea Highrise came into view, towering over them with over a hundred and twenty floors of prime living space. Giant lights and the passing illumination of two skylanes gave the building a glorious appearance against the darkness of the Coruscant sky. He remembered when he had first moved in; the feeling of accomplishment it had brought to finally be able to afford to live on the surface of the city-world, clawing his way up day by day for years. He'd be damned by the Scorekeeper if he let some young upstart Jedi ruin all his work.
They passed into the building and through reception. The human who ran the front desk raised an eyebrow at him as he saw the Jedi. Idiot probably thought he was bringing home the evening's entertainment, even though he should know better.
The Jedi headed first into the elevator so she could position herself at his back.
He was tempted to simply body check her as the doors closed, take a chance that he could stun her with his bulk so she couldn't even think to use her Force trickery.
Again his common sense stopped him. There was no guarantee he would be able to daze her at all. Jedi as a rule were physically stronger than was natural. At least, that was what the Malkite had taught. Nack had never fought against any Jedi physically before.
The elevator door opened onto the 80th floor and he walked left as casually as he could. He could barely hear the Jedi's footsteps as she followed.
The warm dark brown hallway lined with soft carpeting was completely devoid of anyone at this late hour, all the tenants safely behind their locked doors. Thankfully the weapon Cassilyda would use was by its nature a quiet thing and no one would come running.
He stopped at the front door to his apartment, stepped to the side, so his bodyguard would have a clear shot the moment the door opened, then typed in the unlock code on the keypad.
The keypad blurted an almost rude tone and flashed red, the small screen displaying 'Incorrect Code'.
What? He thought in confusion.
Reasoning he had simply mistyped by accident, he tried again, going slower.
6-2-2-5-7-8-5-3-7
'Incorrect Code - Warning building security will be alerted on a 3rd unsuccessful attempt.'
"Having trouble?" The Jedi asked with amusement.
He whirled on her and hissed, "What did you do?"
"Ah yes, blame the Jedi when something inexplicable happens. Did you perhaps consider that your two friends, who I can sense beyond the door and are feeling very tense and anxious, simply changed the code?"
Nack gritted his teeth in frustration, there goes that surprise. "But they wouldn't lock me out."
"Really? Neither would betray you to your fate if it risked their own skin? Are they that loyal?"
He considered it for the briefest of moments and shook his head, "They know that to cross me is death. They're paid very well. Don't think you can divide us with your trickery."
The Jedi rolled her eyes, "Then why lock you out? When they clearly knew you were coming with hostile company thanks to that little distress transmitter in your jaw." His astonishment that she knew that too threatened to break his composure. "But as much as we could debate the matter, the proof is in the eating, as they say." The Jedi stepped to the right side of the door and pointed down. "Stand here, now."
He gritted his teeth at her presumption but reluctantly complied. Even as he did so his paranoia flared to new heights… What was this? Why did he feel like this? How could just standing in front of a door, where his girlfriend and bodyguard was waiting on the other side, feel like this?
The Jedi raised her hand towards the door and made a mild sweeping gesture with her fingers.
The door screeched.
Its motors protested as an invisible force tugged against it… the battle of forces seemed to struggle, then abruptly the machinery lost and the door slammed open into its housing.
Nack had barely a moment to take in the state of his apartment. A table turned over, chairs shifted to create obstacles, the lights off…
Foolish, low light wouldn't help against Trandoshan eyes.
He saw Cassilyde kneeling behind the table, her white face, with red eyes surrounded by turquoise rings. Eyes that narrowed in hate at seeing him, his own dart rifle shouldered and aimed right at him. The darts held the most potent Sennari poison he could make. Kneeling by her side, was Ione, her pretty yellow eyes frantic, both her hands on his bodyguard's shoulder.
He took in their body language and felt like a fool.
Cassilyde, clearly seeing him, pulled the trigger twice.
The dart gun explosively hissed in rapid succession.
Nack gasped at the betrayal
He was also gaping at the two darts that hovered in the air… stopped mere millimeters from his neck.
Then the dart rifle was ripped out of Cassilyde's hands, streaked across the room and bent itself in half.
The two females were frozen in astonishment at the seemingly impossible happening.
Then the Jedi calmly slipped her way inside past him.
A mere few moments ago he would've shouted at them to shoot and failing that, to run.
The appearance of the young Torgruta confused them and gave them further pause, whatever their natural instincts were screaming at them.
One of the lethal darts at his neck zipped through the room in the blink of an eye and now hovered dangerously close to Cassilyde's eyes.
The bodyguard flinched and fell backward in reflex. Ione began to scream but her eyes suddenly closed. She inexplicably just slumped backwards, seemingly fainting from the shock.
The Jedi made a casual upwards gesture with her finger.
"Whoah, what?!"
Cassilyde was abruptly in the air. At first he thought she'd jumped. Her species were not known as Terrelian Jango Jumpers for nothing, but the speed and lack of control of her movement said once again, it was the Jedi doing this. It looked almost like Cassilyde was briefly stuck in zero gravity.
"Ah, there it is, tricky," the Jedi said and just like that his bodyguard's eyes closed, her head lolled in unconsciousness. She now gently pushed her hand down and the Terrelian sank to the floor. "Whew, that was close. A moment later she would've jumped through the window." She turned to him and smiled, "I trust you realize what happened?"
He carefully took a step back and was relieved when the dart the Jedi was holding with her powers stayed where it was. He took a deep breath and composed himself. It didn't take much thinking to conclude what had happened and how blind he'd been.
"They're lovers, seeing each other behind my back. They took this opportunity to try to kill me."
She nodded, "Insightful and correct, but incomplete." A flicking gesture with a finger and the dart buried itself tip first into a wall. "Close the door behind you and show me the Terellian's room."
He really should just… leave, but the Jedi's lightsaber on his hip narrowed his options. She had saved his life and that earned her some points but he'd be a stupid fool to suddenly think she was actually on his side. Jedi had their whole protection of everyone code they lived by.
Nack stepped forward, slammed the door controls in annoyance and switched on the lights.
He led the way down the small hallway of the apartment and turned to the first door on his left, thumbing the door controls. It swished open. Two suitcases packed and ready to go. The Jedi entered behind him and looked around.
The bed was immaculate and made up with near military precision, as typical for Cassilyda - those types of neatness habits ingrained from her her time in the Terellian military had never left her. He wondered how many times the two had carnal relations on this bed.
He hadn't smelt a thing. It only made him more impressed at the dedication and attention to detail it demonstrated. To fool his nose was not easy.
The Jedi gestured towards the left suitcase and it abruptly popped open, spilling the clothes neatly folded inside onto the floor. Then three thin datapads hovered into the air, slowly coming to a stop before him. Nack narrowed his eyes as the screens powered themselves up and showed…
His clawed hands snatched the pads out of the air and he growled as he read one of the Malkite poisoning techniques described in great detail; a poison recipe that was administered via odorless gas delivered from a hidden device mounted in a light fixture.
Cassilyda had somehow found and copied his entire database, every Malkite manual…
"Do you see?"
Nack could only nod. Cassilyda was teaching herself everything, probably even teaching Ione as she went along. They had finally learned enough, planned to kill him and take his place. She even had a list of the contact details of all his previous clients.
Now his mind turned to the burning question that remained.
"Why Jedi?"
"Well, when my lightsaber was stolen it was only natural I try to get it back. So I followed the trail to Bannamu and then to you. Yet, look at this little intrigue of betrayal and potential murder I discovered when I began looking. A good thing too. Can you imagine the Malkite techniques in the hands of amateurs?"
Nack could well imagine what would happen. For all that his database was extensive, there were some hard lessons and knowledge that was only learned by word of mouth and experience from a Malkite master. If these two little fools thought they could use the arts by just reading. At best they'd kill themselves and rid the galaxy of their stupidity, at worst, they could poison entire buildings or a significant part of a Coruscant sector if it went airborne.
"Even if they were apprehended and put in prison, well, I don't foresee anything good from that either." He frowned at the young Jedi, was that just a turn of speech or was she being literal? "The Terellian will probably try one of the poisons that you can cook up in the field and make a terrible mess, killing some prisoners and herself in the process."
He thought about it and found it plausible, there were a few poisons he knew to make from common ingredients you could scrounge together in a prison situation. It'd just require access to the kitchen and opening up a cleaning droid.
"Anyway," she sighed heavily and her face showed a deep frustration. "Here's what's going to happen. You will soon be contacted by someone, by the name of Cassandra. They will give you procedures and contact protocols-"
"Hold on just one second," Nack couldn't believe his ears. "Are you… turning me into an informant?"
"Oh no, a little bit more than that, Mr. Movers. You are hereby conscripted into my little network and when I have a job for you, you will do it."
Nack couldn't help it and burst out laughing. The sheer gall! Who did she think she was? She barely looked old enough to be of consenting age!
His laugh was abruptly silenced when an invisible iron grip manifested around his mouth and clamped it shut.
His eyes widened in fear… if she moved that grip to his neck…
"Don't be so loud, Mr. Movers," she rebuked him gently. "I'm not offended by your skepticism. I rather welcome it. There is no better shield than that disbelief. As I was saying, you're now an agent in my network, willing or not. If you refuse, then I can promise you this. Inspector Divo will first thing in the morning find a message on his holonet account and a package on his desk containing one of the darts fired tonight." His eyes widened and before he could even think of turning around to rush out of the room. "It's already gone. You won't find it."
He didn't believe her and pulled back, testing her invisible grip on his face.
She shrugged, the grip vanished.
He walked back to the main living room. Sure enough, the dart in the wall and the other one that should be lying somewhere near the overturned table was nowhere in sight. He had prepared those darts with his own hands. The poison on them had been used in most of his kills.
Nack turned around in anger as the Jedi walked into the room, she merely waved a single remonstrating index finger of her hand, shaking her head in warning. "No violence Mr. Movers. You will comply. Understood?"
"What possible use could you have for me? Aren't you a Jedi?"
"You're an assassin, not exactly hyperspace physics to deduce why I want you as an agent."
"You're a Jedi!" He said, as if he needed to remind her.
She chuckled, "I am. Really Mr. Movers, bringing you 'to justice'" her voice turned pompous and mocking, "is about as effective at stopping evil and death as it would be confiscating a single blaster pistol from circulation. You're a weapon. So, the moment you get a contract on someone's life, you will contact Cassandra, with all the details, then carry out your contract."
Things began to make sense. "And if I should get a contract on someone you don't want dead?"
"Then you will use a poison that will only make them appear dead and we'll go from there in apprehending your client, while keeping your reputation intact as much as possible. However, there may come a time when I or someone in my network might need your services. At which point you will make yourself available."
"Since when do Jedi use blackmail?"
She laughed, "Oh, you'd be surprised Mr. Movers. Now, enough prevarication. Are you in or do I need to contact the good Inspector Divo?"
He felt like the words just didn't want to leave his mouth but finally hissed, "Fine, yes, whatever."
"Good, now that wasn't so hard was it?" she asked mockingly, then began walking to the front door.
"Hey…" He cut himself off when he heard a click at his belt. In the next moment her lightsaber squirmed its way out of the holster, zoomed across the room and into her waiting hand. "What's your name?"
"You can do your own research about that. It wouldn't be hard. Otherwise you'll address me as Fulcrum."
"Well, Ms. Fulcrum," he said sarcastically. "What do you suggest I do about these two?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"You're the one with the blackmail, I'm your agent now apparently, you're a Jedi. Aren't you going to tell me to not kill these two?"
She frowned, closing her eyes for a brief moment and shook her head. "Unless you want to commit suicide at this point, I'm not telling you to do a damn thing. If you let them go, they're going to keep trying to kill you. The blundering attempts will be amusing for you, but it will catch innocent people in the crossfire." Fulcrum attached her lightsaber to her belt and paused her hand just before the front door controls. "Another thing, should I hear you set one foot on Kashyyyk and I will know if you do. Then you will find yourself visited by another of my network's members, who will devise an amusing ending for you by his standards, but one which you will regret every second of."
Every word she spoke seemed to carry unnaturally and hammer into his brain.
He tried his best to appear unaffected by the sheer weight her words carried but somehow fear seemed to worm through his body everywhere, "Whatever, many places in the galaxy to get points, Ms. Fulcrum."
She opened the door and left.
888888888888888888888888888888
Towards the end there I was expecting her to go by The Shadow, not Fulcrum. That "you will become one of my agents" thing was almost straight from that. She probably has a good idea of What Evil Lurks In The Hearts Of Men.
Clearly not someone you want to get on the bad side of. Also does Anakin or any of her Jedi friends have any idea at all of what she is doing? I am getting some plausible deniability vibes from him here.
Just how big is her network by this point, I wonder. Clearly prepping for a long struggle.
Clearly not someone you want to get on the bad side of. Also does Anakin or any of her Jedi friends have any idea at all of what she is doing? I am getting some plausible deniability vibes from him here.
Just how big is her network by this point, I wonder. Clearly prepping for a long struggle.
- Location
- Wollongong, Australia
So, I have to ask now; past few chapters have had Ahsoka quoting/directly referencing the Sith code. How concerned should I be by this?
- Location
- New York
- Pronouns
- He/Him
She has? Can you quote a few, I musta completely missed it.
- Location
- Wollongong, Australia
This Chapter was "The Truth shall set me free", last chapter I think was "Through the Force I gain strength". It seems to be setting up a bit of a nasty arc for Ahsoka though. Sorry I don't have time to find the quotes themselves.
Vista
(Verified anomalous street lamp)
- Location
- appears to be in a containment cell
- Pronouns
- They/Them
found it
this is the quote from the most recent chapter
- Location
- State of Confusion
Neither one of those are from the Sith Code.
Vista
(Verified anomalous street lamp)
- Location
- appears to be in a containment cell
- Pronouns
- They/Them
yes the actual code is:
Peace is a lie. There is only Passion.
Through Passion, I gain Strength.
Through Strength, I gain Power.
Through Power, I gain Victory.
Through Victory my chains are Broken.
The Force shall free me.
- Location
- Wollongong, Australia
When I read them in the context of Star Wars, I was immediately reminded of the first and last lines of the Sith Code.
Edifier
Trusted within thoughts.
- Location
- Court of Moon Wizards
This might be a soft answer to where the sith and jedi codes originate from in the first place. Tiny little truths creeping in.
After a while, during meditation and self-reflection you put all the little snippets together and get an approximation of a code to resonate with the force.
I wonder if Dooku would sympathize with her and her methods.
After a while, during meditation and self-reflection you put all the little snippets together and get an approximation of a code to resonate with the force.
I wonder if Dooku would sympathize with her and her methods.
Last edited:
If they dock with you in order to board, they're not in space anymore, are they?
Correct-what I was thinking when I posted about sonic sensors was that when a ship docked it would cause vibrations in the hull. The sensors would be internal and monitoring the hull.
- Location
- United States of America
So I was re-watching the OG 2d Clone Wars the other day, and your re-imagined Ahsoka reaaaaally reminds me of Ventress as she was first introduced in the show, especially with the most recent chapter updates.
She uses Telekinesis as her main weapon (terrifyingly), is very very sneaky, is a fighter pilot ace, uses 2 lightsabers proficiently but isn't really a saber combat specialist, does crazy jedi parkour, and did I mention the terrifying telekinesis combat focus?
She uses Telekinesis as her main weapon (terrifyingly), is very very sneaky, is a fighter pilot ace, uses 2 lightsabers proficiently but isn't really a saber combat specialist, does crazy jedi parkour, and did I mention the terrifying telekinesis combat focus?
- Pronouns
- Male
It is true that many sources prior to the 2008 Clone Wars portray Ventress with more focus on esoteric capabilities, though I still find it worth noting that in Episode Twelve of Season Three of Clone Wars she became the first and only person I know of to have Force-Choked Anakin Skywalker. Isn't that just beautifully ironic?
Chapter 31
A/N: Next chapter and moving properly into new arc. Been looking forward to writing this one. Thanks to all the new patrons who joined in the past week. *Salutes* All of you are awesome or as is said in Mando'a: Ni kandosii!
Chapter 31
The following morning I was steadily walking down the serving line of the common central cafeteria in the Jedi Temple, with tray in hand and steadily building up my breakfast.
The place was filled with mostly initiates, adepts and cadres of younglings of various ages all going about filling their bellies. Few and far between were padawans and knight-teachers who were riding herd on some of them. It looked like a far more orderly scene than I'd experienced in high school, whilst the volume and chatter was almost eerily lacking.
My thoughts though were mostly still on Nack Movers.
He represented an unfortunate reality in the galaxy, that despite the Jedi Order's best efforts even in the Republic, that sometimes Force Sensitives slipped through the cracks. It was definitely worse in the Mid Rim and the Outer Rim probably had more Sensitives walking around unaware and oblivious that could probably fill up the Coruscant Temple thrice over. It was one of the reasons why Jedi Chapterhouses existed on Mid Rim worlds and the masters would go on Foundling missions periodically to many worlds off the beaten path.
For those who were never found and continued life as normal, they grew up, experienced the pains of life, family, loss, love and so on. If their environment was comfortable, with very few stressors, then they'd almost never show any supernatural signs or gifts. The Force would express itself as luck or being extremely good in their chosen profession, they'd make decisions based on their Force empowered intuition and end up being rather successful in life. If they should somehow come to the attention of the Jedi Order, very quietly, a file would be opened. A minor investigation would follow, that was usually routine and that the person in question was not overly taking advantage of whatever gift they had developed and it wasn't negatively affecting anyone around them. If they started any families, then the children were watched for Sensitivity and the Order would be ready to approach the family with the offer.
On the other side of the spectrum, you had Sensitives like Nack Movers. I had done my due diligence and discovered that no file existed on him in the Adult Sensitives database. He only had a Judicial file and it explained why he had not been detected by the Jedi Order as a youngling.
He was born on Trandosha. It was ostensibly a Republic world in the Mid Rim, just two sectors east from the Hapes Cluster, but the Trandoshan culture was almost antithetical to the principles espoused by the Jedi Order. There could be no chapterhouse there. The hunt and pleasing their goddess, the Scorekeeper, was all that mattered. They were also only considered part of the Republic by the skin of their pointy teeth.
The only thing that kept them there was their official position that those Trandoshans who hunted sentient beings or wookiees for jagannath points were 'criminals' and the most disreputable members of their society, the tiniest minority. Law-abiding Trandoshans only hunted the most formidable of animal prey and those that actually hunted people were licensed bounty hunters going about their profession.
Now as a result of fate, my choices and the Jedi being blind to this Mid Rim world, I had an untrained Force Sensitive Trandoshan assassin in my little conspiracy network.
Duty and the rules said I now had to put him in the Sensitives database.
Yeah, that wasn't happening. It really made me wonder, in the past timeline, what had happened to it. Did Palpatine manage to get his hands on it? Did Obi-Wan and Yoda go on a little deletion spree during their infiltration of the Jedi Temple Archives after Order 66?
My breakfast was assembled and my feet carried me through the rows of tables, chairs, occasionally avoiding a rambunctious youngling before I sat down opposite Anakin.
He was rather intensely studying a datapad in front of him, whilst absentmindedly shoveling his own meal into his mouth.
"Good morning, master."
He briefly looked up at me and swallowed, "Snips, had a good night?"
"Yes, thanks," I answered, tucking into my food with a bit of gusto.
"Handle your lightsaber problem?"
"Yes, and let's just say I now have informants," I answered while pinging him across our Force Bond.
"I see, good. It always pays to have those." He nodded but I could feel I was going to get grilled for details the moment we were away from Coruscant space.
"So, how did things go with Car Affa?"
"He flipped rather quickly all things considered, didn't even have to lean on him that hard or call in a mindwalker."
"Really? He must not have much business integrity."
"If you read his client list then you'd understand. These are not a bunch of pleasant people at all. They'd sell him out in a heartbeat, so it's understandable that he has little to no loyalty for them in turn when his skin is on the line."
"So what are you reading so intently for?"
"Trying to find a lead that would benefit from our personal attention, also seeing if I can't divine anything that would help."
"Not content to just hand it all off to RI then, master?"
"No, Master Qui-gon said to Obi-wan, always trust in your instincts and right now something about this client list is setting them off, but I just can't pinpoint it."
"Mind if I have a try?"
Anakin huffed in frustration, "Might as well."
He pushed the datapad over to me.
I turned it around, tapping and swiping at the screen to scroll through the files. "Master, the thing to always keep in mind about all the skills that allow us to push our perceptions forward and backward in time, is that trying to force such things to come on demand is much like seeking true inspiration or creativity to come on demand. The more you try, the further away it slips. Right now, I'm not pulling at the current of the river to come to me, I'm just opening my eyes and looking, watching the river - seeing if anything is bobbing on its surface."
My language and metaphor was vastly simplistic but it was the best that Basic could do and I was considering Anakin as well. Each swipe of my finger was entire chains of events that rippled outward, closing and opening yet more possible events into huge, ever expanding branches. Going too far or trying to comprehend more than I was ready for was a very bad idea.
Ah ha, there it was.
I looked down and was rather astonished by the name I saw there. Yeah, it had to be an alias, someone knew his ancient history or had a massive ego. There was not much data on this client beyond a general physical description, a dead drop location, Holonet contact address, which was already confirmed to be retired, I turned the datapad around and pushed it back, continuing my breakfast.
"Canderous?"
"Fake name, but it's definitely Mandalorian."
"What makes you think this is significant? The Mandalorians are a bunch of avowed pacifists."
I really had to strain a bit not to laugh and choke on the piece of thimiar in my mouth.
"You could maybe say that of a majority of the Mandalorian youth today, but their parents and grandparents are a different story. No culture is monolithic, master. The fact is that we have a Mandalorian, who should all be 'peaceful pacifists' according to their own narrative, on the client list of a black market arms dealer that was purchasing stolen Republic weaponry."
"Okay, that might be what is hitting my instincts, but I can sense you have more." Anything I was going to say was interrupted when Anakin's comlink beeped. He tapped it, "Yes, Obi-wan?"
"Emergency council meeting, ten minutes, don't be late."
"Very well, master."
I quickly gulped down the last bits of thimiar on the plate, not wasting a scrap. It wasn't everyday I could eat that, considering the stuff had to be imported from Shili in stasis.
Anakin laughed as I followed him with bulging cheeks.
We entered the main communication center in the Temple and its central giant holotank showed an equally massive rendering of the galaxy with all the known hyperlanes snaking through those stars. Yoda, Obi-Wan and Mace Windu were all standing around it with the kind of bearing that I wouldn't be surprised if steam started coming out of their ears.
"Ah, Anakin, Ahsoka, thank you for coming so promptly," Obi-wan nodded in greeting. "There has been a rather troubling development." He stepped to a terminal at the base of the holotank and began typing.The galactic rendering zoomed in to show the Hydian Way hyperspace lane focusing on a crossroads system called Corsin, which branched off into the Vathkree Trade Corridor. "One of our cruisers undergoing refueling on its way to Taris was ambushed and sabotaged."
"By what? There shouldn't be any CIS activity that far back down the Hydian," Anakin said with exasperation.
"The question is not what, but rather who?" Obi-wan pushed a button and a holo-recording replaced the giant galaxy - showing a corridor of what had to be the Republic cruiser, somewhere that led to the engineering deck.
A group of clones were hunkering down in defense and the general alert alarm was blaring.
Suddenly, from a side access corridor, an explosion blew open a blast door before numerous grenades were thrown in. They had to be stun grenades as the flashes whited out the sensors briefly and it immediately put the clones on the backfoot. Just in time for a stack of armored men and women to burst in, who with quick and efficient precision blasted their way through the clones with impeccable skill and marksmanship.
The holo zoomed in and paused on one of the lead armored figures. Computer analysis began picking apart every detail and marking on the armor, bringing up matches from the database and highlighting them - including the signature T-shaped visors on the helmets.
Another holo panel with an image appeared, this one, according to its date, was a week or so before the Clone Wars kicked off. This image was on Geonosis and showed the still image of Jango Fett in his armor.
"Mandalorians," I muttered. Anakin glanced at me with slight incredulousness.
"Indeed, young Ahsoka, correct you are," Yoda nodded and a small smile graced his green face. "Old enemies of the Jedi, they are."
"This team of… Mandalorians," Obi-wan said with a small hint of reluctance, "managed to cripple the cruiser. It had been on its way to join the Botajef garrison, but will now have to first be repaired in the field, before it can limp back to Kuat for major repair."
"So have the Mandalorians joined the CIS if we are to judge from this?" Anakin asked.
"That is the question that must be answered urgently," Windu declared. "Officially, Mandalore has declared itself neutral in the hostilities between the CIS and the Republic. Their pacifist New Mandalorian ways does not allow them to even materially or financially contribute to the war. This recording has reached the eyes of the Loyalist Committee and has caused considerable political tension, especially because Mandalore leads the newly formed Council of Neutral Systems. Now there is doubt over whether their stated neutrality is just a convenient ruse, while they contribute Mandalorian commandos to the CIS war effort."
"Whatever this is, I do not think we are witnessing an officially sanctioned operation," Obi-wan said with certainty.
"Certain of that you are, Master Kenobi?" Yoda probed.
"I am entirely certain Duchess Satine would never order this."
"Perhaps," Windu looked up into the massive holos. "The problem is that your certainty must be backed up with evidence we can place before the Senate. The Duchess may also not have ordered this raid, but she has an entire government below her with people in positions of influence and power that may have a desire to return to the old Mandalorian ways."
Obi-wan stroked his beard, "Then I will go to Mandalore myself and ascertain the truth of the matter."
"Agreed, Skywalker and Padawan Tano, go with you they shall," Yoda said.
"That would be somewhat excessive, Master Yoda, for what should be a diplomatic visit," Obi-wan pointed out.
The Grandmaster of the Order looked to Anakin and then to me with a rather inscrutable expression.
"Dangerous times these are, Master Kenobi. Legendary warriors the Mandalorians were, who fought and crossed blades with the Jedi many times over the ages. In this time of galactic conflict, foresee I do, there will be those who wish to bring the past to the present."
"Very well, Master. Anakin, Ahsoka, we leave in the afternoon, 1400."
We bowed at the dismissal and as we walked out of the com center, my head was somewhat spinning as I metaphysically looked back, tracing the path of events.
I had dealt with my missing lightsaber alone. Not needing the help of Master Tera Sinube, the elderly Jedi who was effectively the Order's criminal specialist. I hadn't met him, therefore I couldn't be roped in to help teach his joint class of younglings with Yoda. This briefing had probably happened in the timeline that was, but now that I was free for assignment…
Good grief, I pulled away from the probability lines, feeling the beginnings of a headache.
I steeled myself… I had chosen this path and would see it through.
If there was one thing about life in a galaxy with hyperspace, fighting a war and being a Jedi, it was that you would barely be back at home for a few days, then you would abruptly find yourself back on a ship returning the same way you had just taken to come home.
The ship in question that Obi-wan chose for our journey to Mandalore was a rather nostalgic surprise, if only for myself. Anakin found the thing hopelessly archaic and undergunned naturally.
"A single laser cannon turret? Really?"
Obi-wan dearly looked like he wanted to heave a long-suffering sigh. "This is the only ship we have on short notice that met the passenger requirements while not being an overtly military ship. Arriving in anything remotely naval and well armed will not be conducive to getting on Duchess Satine's good side."
"But a YT-1000 light freighter of all things?" Anakin practically whined.
I had to do a small mental exercise to keep the amusement off my face as we stood in the expansive main hangar of the Jedi Temple. In front of me was the predecessor to the famous YT-1300 of the future.
The YT-1000 was a saucer shaped craft with its cockpit blister sticking directly out the front of the vessel with the two forward cargo spurs flanking it on either side. You could definitely see the design lineage in every curve and strut of the vessel, which would lead to the Millenium Falcon. This specific craft had been worked on by Temple engineers to reach a Class 1 hyperdrive rating, including quite a few defensive systems such as heavier shielding, armor and a comprehensive ECM suite. They had even managed it whilst still keeping the outward visual profile and appearance looking relatively normal, including giving the ship a rather weathered look. Just passing it by, the layman would assume he was looking at a normal, older freighter and not a lightly armed, heavily defensive, diplomatic vessel.
Obi-wan merely folded his arms, gave his old student a look and waited patiently.
"Fine, fine," Anakin relented and pushed our gear up the loading ramp on its repulsorlift.
"Indignant question: Master, are you sure you wish to entrust our existence to this ridiculous scrapheap?"
I could not stop my own long-suffering sigh at HK's question and turned to the droid, who was looking rather naked without his cannons on his back.
"What's the matter, HK? Don't you trust the Temple engineers?"
"Answer: I have studied the service life of this… thing. I sincerely doubt any technical skill could possibly restore it to a serviceable state."
"The engineers disagree with you, get on."
"Reluctant obeyance: Very well, master."
HK-47 grabbed his own chest of gear and walked up the ramp.
"Sorry about that Master Kenobi and thank you for letting me bring him. Ever since he heard we were going to Mandalore he's been a nightmare."
Obi-wan nodded, "Given HK's history, I'd imagine he'd be an asset if the worst comes to pass. Do keep him on a short leash though."
HK had only recently returned from a long-term mission I'd sent him on, to Cato Neimoida. Keeping an eye on Rush Clovis and a number of other tasks which would keep the banker happy and content with his lot.
I bowed to Obi-wan in acknowledgement and thanks, and walked up the ramp.
The interior was the typical industrial Corellian aesthetic, but nicely cleaned up with even a fresh coat of paint. If I looked quickly, I could imagine I was on the Falcon itself, but this was a smaller ship with space for two crew, four passengers and only 75 tons of internal cargo. There was not even a tiny recreation area, with only a single narrow circular corridor winding through the ship, that led to the various compartments.
Anakin was naturally in the forward cockpit busy familiarizing himself with everything.
"So this ship has a name, Skyguy?" It was very much bad luck even in the Corusca galaxy for a ship carrying people to not have a name.
"Yes, it's the Pilgrim."
I dumped myself in the co-pilot seat and considered that. It was okay, dignified, though not memorable. It was a small ongoing quest of mine to find a ship that could also be a home away from home, but so far nothing that was being sold by any of the starship manufacturers had really hit that sweet spot I was looking for. What also went with that was to find a name for it, which had also been eluding me.
More and more it seemed I was going to have to design my own ship and send it to a manufacturer, though that was stupidly expensive, not to mention would make it unique and unable to really blend in anywhere.
"All right, Anakin, time to go," Obi-wan announced, stepping into the cockpit.
The urgency of our mission bumped us up to priority departure, which allowed the Pilgrim to take a direct launch trajectory from the Jedi Temple, straight up out of the atmosphere of Coruscant.
The queue we couldn't skip though was the wait for the outbound north east hyperspace lane that would get us back on the Hydian Way.
I took the time to familiarize myself with the ECM suite of the Pilgrim. It was a full military package, with even gravitic and magnetometric chaff, not to mention a system that would slightly bloom or shrink the Pilgrim's EM profile to make it appear to be an entirely different craft as long as you remained beyond visual range. That was a rather neat trick.
"Finally, here we go." Anakin pulled on the hyperdrive lever and the stars streaked past us until we were plunged into the roiling blue infinite tunnel of hyperspace. He listened carefully to the sound of the engines, consulted a few readings before nodding. "I think we're good. The engineers did a good job with this rustbucket."
"I'll be sure to pass your glowing praise along to them," Obi-wan said dryly. "Now that we're underway I want to brief you all on the specifics of Mandalore and what you can expect."
"Oh, that's right, you spent a lot of time there as a padawan," Anakin said, tapping the controls and engaging the autopilot.
We followed Obi-wan to the only central meeting place the Pilgrim had, its cramped galley. Anakin got himself a glass of water before sitting down. I grabbed a caf and Obi-wan declined a drink when I offered him the same.
The Jedi master put a small holo-projector on the table and it activated to show the world in question.
"That's the oddest desert world I've ever seen," Anakin commented.
"That's because it is technically a man made desert. The world was utterly ruined to ecological collapse. Their latest civil war killed off the last vegetation and fauna roughly twenty years ago. The planet is technically uninhabitable, but the Mandalorians are a stubborn people and refuse to leave. They live in domed cities that dot the planet's surface at the points where all their old cities used to stand. Their agriculture all takes place in artificial skyscrapers inside these domes and on the primary moon, Concordia, which is the only place in the system where the old biodiversity of Mandalore still survives in some form.
"Even Concordia, though, is scarred from extensive mining practices that used to fuel their war machine. Most of their budget and resources is focused on returning the moon to its former lush state, which would allow greater food production and ease the strain of their rigid population controls. They also depend a great deal on food imports as their local production falls well short of supplying their needs."
"Which neatly explains their reluctance to do anything for the Republic war effort. They literally can't afford it in either monetary, manpower or material terms. I also can't imagine the war has done their food imports any favors," I reasoned.
"Exactly," Obi-Wan nodded. "The same can be said for a lot of worlds on the new Council for Neutral Systems. The war has driven up the import costs and so the people of Mandalore have to cough up even more credits to just keep their current population fed, never mind expanding that."
"Statement: It is almost sad, to see the old enemy reduced to such a deplorable state," HK piped up from the door, where he was leaning his white GU chassis against the galley door frame. "I remember when the galaxy trembled at the mere mention of Mandalorians. Their crusades threatened the Old Republic's very existence and was a great factor in why Revan himself eventually fell."
"I think we can all agree though that we're glad the New Mandalorians would never threaten the galaxy in that way again," Obi-Wan declared.
"Statement: That may be, meatbag. Conjecture: The situation you're describing now though is exactly the conditions any remaining old Mandalorian agitators would look for to regain support, including external elements such as the CIS."
"Which is why we must proceed on this mission with extra caution and be diplomatically sensitive. If there is a rogue element at work in the New Mandalorian government they will act in some manner against us. Perhaps try to drive a further wedge between the Republic and Mandalore. That is why only Ahsoka and I will leave the ship when we land and make contact with Duchess Satine. You two will remain and watch over the Pilgrim."
"Babysitting the ship, come on, Obi-wan," Anakin shook his head.
"There is a time and place for action, my old padawan and you are not the most subtle or diplomatic Jedi I would choose to have at my side for this."
I grinned, "Patience master, something is going to happen sooner or later and you can bet we're going to have all the action we can stomach."
He gave me a raised eyebrow, "Really?"
"Master, it's us, when have we ever gotten anywhere and something has not blown up, crashed or gone wrong in some sort of spectacular way?"
Obi-wan thoughtfully stroked his beard, "That is a rather good point your padawan has, Anakin."
"Are you saying I'm a magnet for trouble?"
"Anakin, you've been a magnet for trouble since before you were an initiate," Obi-wan didn't hide his smile at all this time.
Anakin gulped his water down with a disgruntled air, "Come on, HK, cargo hold, let's spar."
The assassin droid looked at me, "Go ahead, HK."
"Eager approval: Thank you, master."
I continued drinking at my caf, whilst Obi-Wan seemed slightly melancholic staring at the holo of the world he had spent nearly more than a year on, fighting for both his own life and defending Satine.
"Ahsoka, how is Anakin?"
The question was softly uttered but that did nothing to prevent me from being startled by it. I put my cup down and met Obi-Wan's eyes as I considered an answer. This was not a Jedi Council Master speaking at the moment, but rather the man who had been a father and mentor figure to Anakin. It left me with an interesting dilemma. I was just as vested in Anakin's psychological and physical well being as Obi-Wan was. I had to give an answer that was as close to the truth as possible, whilst preserving trust and privacy.
"If there is one word I can use to describe him at the moment, then it's frustration. Frustration that the war has no clear road towards its end. Frustration of the burden placed on him and the expectations of the Order. He worries about me, you and all his friends - that this war will result in our deaths."
He nodded in understanding, "A feeling many share. Beware, however, that frustration doesn't lead to fear." My own frustration at that sentiment from Obi-Wan I kept carefully hidden, letting it pass through me. "I'm also rather impressed at the progress of both of you in the past year, despite the demands the war places on you."
"Thank you, Master Kenobi. It's not easy but somehow we find ways to make the time for it."
"Good. We must not forget that when all is said and done, we are still Jedi and only fighting now to win the peace. We would do well to take the lesson that the history of Revan teaches."
I couldn't resist that. "How well do you know that history, master?"
"It is something that I only knew in general in the past, but when you recovered HK-47, I did a bit of further historical research. A fascinating chain of events, with a number of parallels we can draw to today. The Jedi follow the charismatic Revan to war against the Mandalorian crusaders, a split in the Order, the disagreement over whether to fight at all, their fall."
"We can hopefully chart a course away from all that," I said with as much optimism and hope as I could but my rebellious brain and heart didn't feel it. How could I? Given what I knew.
Obi-Wan gave me a look that I hadn't really fooled him, "You are perhaps correct to hold onto that cynicism, padawan, given what you've experienced in the war, but don't let it blind you to the possibility of good in people and the galaxy."
"Yes, master."
We heard the snap-hiss ignition of lightsabers, their electric humming and clashing, echoing through the ship.
"Shall we go and observe? I'm rather curious how a droid of HK's experience handles a lightsaber."
"I doubt you would walk away from it feeling disappointed, Master Kenobi."
The Pilgrim emerged from hyperspace four and a half days later outside the mass shadow of Mandalore.
A look at the passive scanners showed that space traffic around the world was rather sparse, with the majority of craft going to and fro from the moon of Concordia. It also showed me that I could park a single Venator in orbit and conquer the place in less than an afternoon. There was not even a single armed satellite that I could detect. Maybe they had starfighters squirreled away somewhere in the dome cities, but nothing I was seeing showed that they could resist if the CIS showed up tomorrow with just a couple of Munificients. The only thing that saved their asses was the Republic Navy's current stranglehold on the Hydian, with the front line battlespace 1700 lightyears away in straight line, but requiring 2300 lightyears of travel due to hyperspace lane routes.
My focus turned to the moon of Concordia and I could pick up nothing but civilian activity; standard fusion power generation, large towns, the occasional active mine, but a steadily recovering biosphere. My fingers itched to switch on active scans but that would be rude and undiplomatic.
Anakin smoothly inserted the Pilgrim into the atmosphere of Mandalore, setting a straight course for the capital city of Sundari, whilst also speaking to the traffic control and sending our diplomatic credentials.
It didn't take long after that for us to be given landing clearance to a landing spot on the upper exterior of the city dome.
The sheer size of the dome was truly impressive and from a distance it rose out of the flat lifeless sands of the desert like someone had taken a small, thirty kilometer diameter Death Star and buried it halfway.
The Pilgrim landed on a large pad that had its own demarcated space, but not far away dozens of large freighters were coming and going, delivering goods and taking the city's exports away to be sold.
Already waiting for us on the landing pad was an open-top transport speeder, where a tall burly guardsman in ornate but very functional blue and white armor was standing, holding a force pike. My eyes could already pick out that his gauntlets, upper chest and helmet armor was made of beskar iron.
Sundari was sitting right on top of the only active beskar iron mine in the galaxy. The Mandalorians had used it since the days of the Old Republic in the creation of their weapons, armor and starships. Naturally, the New Mandalorians only used it for peaceful purposes, but the secrets of creating beskar, the additives required, the process, which truly gave it its infamous strength that could resist blaster and lightsaber, was a jealously guarded secret. A secret even the New Mandalorians would take to their graves, never revealing it to outsiders.
"All right, Anakin, HK, watch the ship, you can take passive intelligence gathering measures only," Obi-wan reiterated.
"Statement: I am already in their unsecured communications, meatbag. I will crack the secured ones shortly."
"Good, Ahsoka, off we go."
We left the ship and for this occasion, I was in my full Aegis armor minus the helmet. The reasoning was that Obi-Wan was still in his half-armor and I really wanted the capabilities considering who was waiting on Concordia. As much as I wanted to deal with a non-antagonistic Satine, there was something about arch-pacifists that rubbed me the wrong way and I couldn't resist shoving a bit of pragmatic reality her way.
Obi-wan would've liked to have me in less militaristic attire, but my armor had enough Jedi-ish aesthetic that it was just a slightly more armored version of his outfit in effect.
"The Duchess awaits you, General Kenobi," the Mandalorian guardsman spoke up as we approached him. He turned abruptly and got on the speeder.
We both got on the flat top speeder as the guardsman activated it and abruptly the world around us just seemed to explode into a blurring speed.
I regarded the speeder below my feet with an impressed awe. Such strong inertial dampeners in such a small package, not to mention the shield in front keeping us from being blown off.
The speeder passed through the dome entrance and beyond was a truly breathtaking city where not a single cubic meter of space seemed to be wasted, yet didn't give the impression of being cramped.
The buildings were based on cuboid designs and didn't just go up and down, but also horizontally in a manner that neatly showed off the strength of beskar. Clear lanes of air traffic were designated through the morass of buildings, which were themselves rather beautiful, with sheets of transpirasteel that were both translucent and transparent. The buildings themselves could intelligently act as mirrors, bringing light from the outer edges of the dome into the interior depths.
In the very center of the dome a large open area housed the Sundari Royal Palace and neighboring it was a large park with the only plants I had seen so far in the entire dome.
It was all beautiful but the artificiality of it just left a bad final impression on me. I was perhaps just a bit too much of a nature freak. Ironic, considering the Jedi Temple had been my home for the last 13 years, but this was probably my love of Naboo talking and my journeys in my old life to southern Africa and Asia.
The Royal Palace was a rather muted affair considering the name it had. It wasn't some towering edifice of opulence and beauty, but rather just five floors of architecture that I'd call 'hypermodern', with an abundance of transparisteel. The only way you'd realize this was an important structure was all the guardsmen it had and the strict no-fly zones that surrounded it.
We were led inside and another problem with it came to the fore. It was almost too transparent. I could look in a direction and see through multiple rooms and offices. It was like they were screaming, 'We have nothing to hide'. Everyone could see what everyone else was doing. That a government could be run out of this place was astonishing.
Finally, we arrived in what had to be an audience chamber for the Duchess on the upper floor of the palace.
It was a long, rectangular room with a high slanted, partially transparent ceiling, through which you could see a dozen buildings seemingly suspended overhead. It was slightly nerve wracking as I tried to imagine the physics going on above my head.
On the far end of the room, against the wall, was a tall throne that stood on half a dozen raised steps. It didn't have much ostentation but its high backrest was made out of artfully stained transparisteel with flowery shapes all pointing to a central red circle.
A door hissed open at the side of the chamber and a balding man in his late middle ages walked in. He was immaculately groomed with graying blonde hair, beard and goatee and wore stately, yet understated white and beige clothing. His strides showed he was still physically strong despite appearances.
"General Kenobi," the man greeted with a mild smile.
"Thank you for meeting with us, Prime Minister Almec." The two men briefly shook hands. "This is Commander Ahsoka Tano, my assistant."
"A pleasure to meet you, commander," he promptly shook my hand as well, giving a slight appraising eye to my armor.
"A pleasure to be here, Prime Minister."
"I greet you both here as a servant of the people," he stated, stepping back and immediately getting to business. "However, I am troubled by the false rumors that brought you here." He graciously gestured for us to walk with him towards the throne. "Mandalore would never turn against the Republic. Duchess Satine values peace more than her own life."
"Oh, I'm well aware of the Duchess' views-" Obi-Wan began but was somewhat rudely interrupted by Almec.
"Master Kenobi, Mandalore's violent past is behind us. After the civil war, all of our warriors who refused to lay down their arms and armor were exiled to our moon Concordia. They promptly began fighting amongst themselves there and died out."
"Are you so certain of that? Before the war, I encountered a man who wore Mandalorian armor, who was also very proficient in fighting me, by the name of Jango Fett."
"Jango Fett was a common bounty hunter," Almec insisted. "How he acquired that armor I couldn't begin to say. No beskar smith on Mandalore would consent to-"
Almec was interrupted in turn.
"Well, Master Kenobi," said a rather pleasant, yet commanding, female voice. Entering the audience chamber from another door to the side of the throne, was Duchess Satine herself.
She was rather beautiful in a classical sort of way; high cheekbones, prominent nose and pointed chin with razor sharp blue eyes that I could tell held a strong will and intelligence. Her outfit was an elegant blue and green gown with a stately headdress woven into her blonde hair that would give a Nubian queen's headgear a run for its money in complexity and size.
Getting that thing perfect must take ages and made me rather grateful I didn't have hair on my head to be styled in such exhaustive fashion.
She was followed by two Royal guardsmen with force pikes and a male assistant wearing a hooded robe.
"My shining Jedi Knight to the rescue once again." I couldn't decide whether her tone was mocking or simply a statement of fact. She walked to her throne which lit up with an inner light from the backrest the moment she sat down, including a muted chime that echoed through the room. "And what's this, you have a padawan?"
"Not technically, no, allow me to introduce Padawan Ahsoka Tano, the padawan of my previous student, who has accompanied me on this journey."
I bowed in reflex as I was introduced.
"Has it been so long since we last saw each other?" Satine marveled.
"Well, the long years have not detracted from your beauty," Obi-wan declared with a completely straight face.
Her eyes narrowed, "Kind words from a man who accuses me of treason."
"I would never accuse you of personal wrongdoing, duchess," Obi-Wan protested earnestly without pause. "However, a group of Seperatist saboteurs attacked one of our cruisers, Mandalorian saboteurs." He produced a handheld holopad, which activated and showed a fluid holoclip of one of the saboteurs in full Mandolorian armor with jetpack, running, gunning and killing clone troopers.
Almec shook his head at it, his face twisting with distaste. "This has to be a false flag. I don't know where anyone would get that armor, are you even sure it was actual beskar? No Mandalorian would engage in such violence, not anymore."
Obi-wan tapped on the holopad, it advanced to show the Mandalorian's armor clearly taking multiple hits from the clone trooper's blasters and the wearer easily shrugging off the blasts.
Almec was rather astonished. It was rather interesting that he actually felt that way and was not just putting on a show.
Satine clenched a fist on her armrest, leaned forward, indignant anger radiating out from her, "Every one of my people is as trustworthy as I am."
I wonder if Obi-Wan caught that little emphasis.
"I know we sound defensive but-" her robed assistant began but was interrupted.
Satine continued as if her assistant hadn't even spoken, "Clearly your investigation was ordered because the Senate is eager to intervene in our affairs!"
"The investigation was ordered by the Jedi Council," Obi-Wan corrected her gently.
Her face softened somewhat, she sat back and visibly calmed down. "I stand corrected," she acknowledged, then held out her hand invitingly, palm down. "General Kenobi, perhaps you'd like to join me on a walk through the city."
Satine's abrupt shift in tone from forbidding monarch to a pleasant 'queen' was rather jarring. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her and she merely gave him an inscrutable look. Whatever subtext communication was going on here, it gave Obi-Wan a clear message and he stepped forward to take hold of her offered hand. At which point she stood, her throne dimmed, she grabbed a hold of Obi-Wan's arm and the two of them walked towards the audience chamber exit. Two royal guardsmen automatically stepped forward to escort them and kept a respectful distance behind.
Obi-Wan gave me a look in turn and I acknowledged it with a visible nod. It would've been a bit too suspicious to have no open communication between me and him at this point.
They left the room and most everyone else including guardsmen, attendants and Almec also left. I gave Obi-Wan a thirty second head start before starting to follow.
Their destination was the neighboring park, which had the rather on the nose name of Peace Park. In a domed city such as Sundari, the idea of a park or garden was quite different from the norm. It was in effect, just as artificial as the city, consisting of four floors of enclosed space, with only the upper floor open to the air. Plants were beautifully arranged and interspersed on floors of transparisteel, with benches allowing people to sit and relax among 'nature'. I really wouldn't call it nature, since the plants themselves were manicured to cuboid shapes, but at least they were green.
I could sense Obi-Wan with Satine on the upper floor of the park and decided to head to the lowest floor to get a sense of the ordinary Mandalorian people.
It was immediately apparent that the park was a favorite spot for local couples to get together. There were very little public displays of affection, but it was easy to sense the attraction, affection, lust and love in the air around them. There were also families with children and parents trying to ride herd on them, which had me automatically smiling at the sight.
It was overall a very pleasant place for a Jedi, despite the artificial surroundings. I felt like I could get a bit lost in just experiencing the small oasis of life and Light in the Force.
Duty called though and I tapped my armor's encrypted comlink, which paired and linked with Obi-Wan's comms.
My feet carried me through the park and I affected the appearance as if I was just the same as the others around me, enjoying the place. My mind's eye through Farsight was watching Obi-Wan and Satine, looking for threats that wouldn't be apparent to the guardsmen and watching the master's back, so to speak.
"...Mandalore is prosperous since the last time I was here," said Obi-Wan.
Satine's face turned somewhat bitter, "Not everyone on Mandalore believes peace is a sign of progress. There's a group that calls itself Deathwatch. I imagine these are the renegades you are looking for. They idolize violence and our warrior past. There are those among us, certain officials who are working to root out these criminals. It has been an ongoing investigation."
Obi-wan frowned with worry, "How widespread is this Deathwatch movement?"
Satine looked somewhat exasperated, "It's hardly a movement. It's a small group of hooligans who choose to vandalize public places, nothing more. We shall soon have them in custody. They've been tracked down to Concordia."
"I hope you're right, duchess. Sabotaging a Republic cruiser is a bit of an extreme escalation from mere vandalizing."
Satine nodded regally, "Yes, that is worrying as is the fact that they were wearing full beskar armor. I did not want to speak of this in the throne room as everything said there becomes public record… but one of our beskar smiths is missing and we believe she's either part of Deathwatch or held hostage by them."
"A Mandalorian beskar smith possibly working for the Separatists, willing or not, is not a pleasant thought to consider, duchess."
"It is a nightmare scenario for Mandalore," Satine acknowledged. "However, we've studied the smith's psychological record extensively. Despite her possible poor choice in allegiance, she won't release the secrets of beskar to the CIS, she's Mandalorian and that secret is sacrosanct to us all. We don't choose our smiths idly. They undergo the most vigorous screening, training and vetting in the galaxy before they even get a chance to hold a hammer."
I tried to brace myself yet despite my preparation I still flinched when the instant, tearing, cracking noise of an explosion washed over me. It disrupted my focus and I lost my Farsight.
The overpressure felt like someone had just slapped my montrals and a strong breeze blasted me in the face.
My eyes were drawn to the top floor of the park as smoke and fire raged from one end.
Where a large obelisk monument had been, was only rubble and debris.
Then the screaming started and I immediately sensed many signs of life beginning to wane and struggle, including some wink out entirely.
Not ten feet from me a piece of high velocity debris had struck a man dead.
A surge of people fled away and I had to do a bit of fancy footwork to dodge through them as I ran along the edge of the park.
"Master! Are you okay?" I asked urgently.
"I'm fine, Ahsoka, as is the duchess. We have more than a dozen dead and numerous injured up here. Keep an eye out, the bomber may be close."
My run carried me closer to the bomb site, to the north-west and Obi-Wan came through again.
"I think I have him, Ahsoka, in pursuit, heading west. Come up to this level and try to cut him off!"
I skidded to a stop and reversed course, fixing and sensing Obi-wan's relative position in my mind.
Thankfully, the initial wave of fleeing people had passed and I was left with clear ground to run, allowing me to open up the taps for a bit of Force Sprinting.
"I have him cornered…"
I looked up in time to hear blaster fire coming from a balcony four floors above me.
The snap-hiss of Obi-wan's lightsaber followed.
I was a bit torn on whether to jump and scale the distance or…
The shooting ended abruptly and the sound of a lightsaber shutting itself off reached me. Then a scuffle and the sound of a body hitting the floor.
"I don't want to hurt you," Obi-wan said.
Ah, the advantages of being a Togruta. Of course, it wasn't just my natural echosense and good hearing, but also the Force, and I could sense Obi-Wan, Satine and someone else above me, presumably the bomber.
"Stay back," he urged Satine.
In the next moment I saw the bomber jumping onto the railing, facing Obi-wan and Satine.
I had never before sensed the emotions and mind of someone clearly on his way to commit suicide. It was extremely unpleasant and unnerving. It was utter focus, an almost complete abandonment of self, mixed with a madness as he accepted his fate. His mind was filled with only one last task.
"Cal pava bro'kun, del shi ve'raan!"
The bomber raised his arms and fell back, his face turning into a contented smile as he plunged to his death.
"No," I declared and raised a hand.
He had barely fallen for two seconds before my telekinesis caught him, slowing him down steadily until he was seemingly lying on nothing but air, just a meter before the hard unyielding transparisteel floor.
The bomber tried to turn his head, his eyes widening in disbelief.
I swiftly turned my TK from a catch, to a Stasis, freezing him in place and rotating him to face me.
Now close enough to touch the fanatic, and presumably a Deathwatch member, I could spot areas on the crown of his bald head that showed thickening of the skin. He most likely wore that infamous helmet a lot. His eyes bulged in disbelief and then anger at the sight of me.
"Yes, a Jedi, you're welcome and good night." I tapped him on the forehead, where he immediately slumped into a deep sleep.
Obi-wan and Satine emerged from a building doorway as I lowered the man gently to the floor and began examining and searching him. I was also acutely aware that there was now a crowd of onlookers, a number of which had clearly seen my efforts. The sirens now reached us of emergency service speeders arriving and landing on the upper floor.
"Well done, padawan, glad you could make it in time," Obi-wan smiled with relief, kneeling down on the other side of the insensate bomber.
"You're welcome, master."
Satine looked at me with an earnest gratitude that I could tell she truly felt, "Thank you for saving his life, padawan. Despite what he has just done, more death is not what we need."
Obi-wan abruptly stood with lightsaber bursting into life, angling his blade horizontal, just in time to deflect a yellow blaster bolt into the ground that had come from above us.
I grabbed the shoulders of the sleeping bomber and pulled, whilst my own lightsabers jumped off my belt, ignited and aided our defense from the sniper.
Renewed screams echoed in my montrals as the crowd scattered again.
Satine helped me pull the heavy man back into the doorway they had come from.
The instant we had a roof over our heads I fell back on my butt with a huff and recalled my blades.
Obi-wan stayed in the doorway, his blade still lit, "Everyone all right?" he asked urgently.
"We're fine, Obi-wan," Satine huffed, straightening her headpiece somewhat in irritation.
Royal guardsmen en masse burst onto the scene and their leader promptly began securing every exit and entrance to this level of the park.
"I think I managed to send a blast right back at him, but he was perched from an overarching building nearly two hundred meters above us."
"More than likely overwatch to make sure the bomber did his job and keep him from being captured should he fail to take his own life," I said. I knew Deathwatch were hardass fanatics utterly devoted to their code, but this showed a higher level of sheer ruthlessness.
Now that things were somewhat safer I refocused on my search of the bomber, employing technometric senses as well.
From his pocket a small holo emitter jumped out, landed on the floor and burst to life with an odd tri-pronged symbol.
"It is a symbolic representation of the jai'galaar or shriek-hawk; it was used at all the other places where Deathwatch has struck on Mandalore," Satine explained.
I held my hand over his torso and winced as I yanked with my TK at something else.
Satine jumped as suddenly the bomber's pants bulged over his crotch. I moved the object inside up and it jumped out of his pants.
"Oh, a miniature hold out blaster, was that where I think it was?" Obi-wan asked.
"Yes," I answered, not wanting to think about it further and dumped the stinky weapon to the side.
I sensed something else and hovered my hand over the bomber's head, his mouth specifically. Then pulled open the man's jaw and regarded his right rear molar.
"He's got a small suicide implant back there, why didn't he just use that?"
"Not dramatic enough I expect and he wanted to send a message," Obi-wan theorized.
"We know of such devices," Satine declared. "I will have our doctors remove it safely and he'll be kept under suicide watch." She gestured to her guardsmen, two of whom came forward.
They binded hands and legs, picked up the bomber and carried him off. Another came forward and carefully bagged the holopad and miniature blaster before leaving with the evidence.
"What was he saying before he jumped, duchess? My Mando'a is a bit rusty," Obi-wan asked, as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt.
"'We are the Death Watch, of the true warrior faith'," she explained. "He also spoke it with a Concordian dialect."
"We would much like to visit this moon of yours, as it seems that is where all signs are pointing."
Satine visibly thought about it, "The Concordian moon is a province with its own governor. If you want to investigate there in a speedy fashion, you'll need me to escort you."
"That really won't be necessary," he disagreed, clearly fearing somewhat for her safety.
"A Concordian stands accused of mass murder, terrorism and treason, he'll eventually be remanded to their custody. You cannot wade the political and bureaucratic waters without me."
She decisively turned around, not giving him a further chance to argue and walked off.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the wan fondness and regret in Obi-Wan's eyes as she disappeared into the distance with her retinue of guards
I coughed somewhat awkwardly, "Master Kenobi?"
"Ah yes, sorry, got a bit lost in my thoughts. Inform the others that we'll be taking the duchess' transport to Concordia. They are to discreetly follow our position from orbit and be ready to respond should we signal for help. I've got a feeling we're going to need it."
Chapter 31
The following morning I was steadily walking down the serving line of the common central cafeteria in the Jedi Temple, with tray in hand and steadily building up my breakfast.
The place was filled with mostly initiates, adepts and cadres of younglings of various ages all going about filling their bellies. Few and far between were padawans and knight-teachers who were riding herd on some of them. It looked like a far more orderly scene than I'd experienced in high school, whilst the volume and chatter was almost eerily lacking.
My thoughts though were mostly still on Nack Movers.
He represented an unfortunate reality in the galaxy, that despite the Jedi Order's best efforts even in the Republic, that sometimes Force Sensitives slipped through the cracks. It was definitely worse in the Mid Rim and the Outer Rim probably had more Sensitives walking around unaware and oblivious that could probably fill up the Coruscant Temple thrice over. It was one of the reasons why Jedi Chapterhouses existed on Mid Rim worlds and the masters would go on Foundling missions periodically to many worlds off the beaten path.
For those who were never found and continued life as normal, they grew up, experienced the pains of life, family, loss, love and so on. If their environment was comfortable, with very few stressors, then they'd almost never show any supernatural signs or gifts. The Force would express itself as luck or being extremely good in their chosen profession, they'd make decisions based on their Force empowered intuition and end up being rather successful in life. If they should somehow come to the attention of the Jedi Order, very quietly, a file would be opened. A minor investigation would follow, that was usually routine and that the person in question was not overly taking advantage of whatever gift they had developed and it wasn't negatively affecting anyone around them. If they started any families, then the children were watched for Sensitivity and the Order would be ready to approach the family with the offer.
On the other side of the spectrum, you had Sensitives like Nack Movers. I had done my due diligence and discovered that no file existed on him in the Adult Sensitives database. He only had a Judicial file and it explained why he had not been detected by the Jedi Order as a youngling.
He was born on Trandosha. It was ostensibly a Republic world in the Mid Rim, just two sectors east from the Hapes Cluster, but the Trandoshan culture was almost antithetical to the principles espoused by the Jedi Order. There could be no chapterhouse there. The hunt and pleasing their goddess, the Scorekeeper, was all that mattered. They were also only considered part of the Republic by the skin of their pointy teeth.
The only thing that kept them there was their official position that those Trandoshans who hunted sentient beings or wookiees for jagannath points were 'criminals' and the most disreputable members of their society, the tiniest minority. Law-abiding Trandoshans only hunted the most formidable of animal prey and those that actually hunted people were licensed bounty hunters going about their profession.
Now as a result of fate, my choices and the Jedi being blind to this Mid Rim world, I had an untrained Force Sensitive Trandoshan assassin in my little conspiracy network.
Duty and the rules said I now had to put him in the Sensitives database.
Yeah, that wasn't happening. It really made me wonder, in the past timeline, what had happened to it. Did Palpatine manage to get his hands on it? Did Obi-Wan and Yoda go on a little deletion spree during their infiltration of the Jedi Temple Archives after Order 66?
My breakfast was assembled and my feet carried me through the rows of tables, chairs, occasionally avoiding a rambunctious youngling before I sat down opposite Anakin.
He was rather intensely studying a datapad in front of him, whilst absentmindedly shoveling his own meal into his mouth.
"Good morning, master."
He briefly looked up at me and swallowed, "Snips, had a good night?"
"Yes, thanks," I answered, tucking into my food with a bit of gusto.
"Handle your lightsaber problem?"
"Yes, and let's just say I now have informants," I answered while pinging him across our Force Bond.
"I see, good. It always pays to have those." He nodded but I could feel I was going to get grilled for details the moment we were away from Coruscant space.
"So, how did things go with Car Affa?"
"He flipped rather quickly all things considered, didn't even have to lean on him that hard or call in a mindwalker."
"Really? He must not have much business integrity."
"If you read his client list then you'd understand. These are not a bunch of pleasant people at all. They'd sell him out in a heartbeat, so it's understandable that he has little to no loyalty for them in turn when his skin is on the line."
"So what are you reading so intently for?"
"Trying to find a lead that would benefit from our personal attention, also seeing if I can't divine anything that would help."
"Not content to just hand it all off to RI then, master?"
"No, Master Qui-gon said to Obi-wan, always trust in your instincts and right now something about this client list is setting them off, but I just can't pinpoint it."
"Mind if I have a try?"
Anakin huffed in frustration, "Might as well."
He pushed the datapad over to me.
I turned it around, tapping and swiping at the screen to scroll through the files. "Master, the thing to always keep in mind about all the skills that allow us to push our perceptions forward and backward in time, is that trying to force such things to come on demand is much like seeking true inspiration or creativity to come on demand. The more you try, the further away it slips. Right now, I'm not pulling at the current of the river to come to me, I'm just opening my eyes and looking, watching the river - seeing if anything is bobbing on its surface."
My language and metaphor was vastly simplistic but it was the best that Basic could do and I was considering Anakin as well. Each swipe of my finger was entire chains of events that rippled outward, closing and opening yet more possible events into huge, ever expanding branches. Going too far or trying to comprehend more than I was ready for was a very bad idea.
Ah ha, there it was.
I looked down and was rather astonished by the name I saw there. Yeah, it had to be an alias, someone knew his ancient history or had a massive ego. There was not much data on this client beyond a general physical description, a dead drop location, Holonet contact address, which was already confirmed to be retired, I turned the datapad around and pushed it back, continuing my breakfast.
"Canderous?"
"Fake name, but it's definitely Mandalorian."
"What makes you think this is significant? The Mandalorians are a bunch of avowed pacifists."
I really had to strain a bit not to laugh and choke on the piece of thimiar in my mouth.
"You could maybe say that of a majority of the Mandalorian youth today, but their parents and grandparents are a different story. No culture is monolithic, master. The fact is that we have a Mandalorian, who should all be 'peaceful pacifists' according to their own narrative, on the client list of a black market arms dealer that was purchasing stolen Republic weaponry."
"Okay, that might be what is hitting my instincts, but I can sense you have more." Anything I was going to say was interrupted when Anakin's comlink beeped. He tapped it, "Yes, Obi-wan?"
"Emergency council meeting, ten minutes, don't be late."
"Very well, master."
I quickly gulped down the last bits of thimiar on the plate, not wasting a scrap. It wasn't everyday I could eat that, considering the stuff had to be imported from Shili in stasis.
Anakin laughed as I followed him with bulging cheeks.
We entered the main communication center in the Temple and its central giant holotank showed an equally massive rendering of the galaxy with all the known hyperlanes snaking through those stars. Yoda, Obi-Wan and Mace Windu were all standing around it with the kind of bearing that I wouldn't be surprised if steam started coming out of their ears.
"Ah, Anakin, Ahsoka, thank you for coming so promptly," Obi-wan nodded in greeting. "There has been a rather troubling development." He stepped to a terminal at the base of the holotank and began typing.The galactic rendering zoomed in to show the Hydian Way hyperspace lane focusing on a crossroads system called Corsin, which branched off into the Vathkree Trade Corridor. "One of our cruisers undergoing refueling on its way to Taris was ambushed and sabotaged."
"By what? There shouldn't be any CIS activity that far back down the Hydian," Anakin said with exasperation.
"The question is not what, but rather who?" Obi-wan pushed a button and a holo-recording replaced the giant galaxy - showing a corridor of what had to be the Republic cruiser, somewhere that led to the engineering deck.
A group of clones were hunkering down in defense and the general alert alarm was blaring.
Suddenly, from a side access corridor, an explosion blew open a blast door before numerous grenades were thrown in. They had to be stun grenades as the flashes whited out the sensors briefly and it immediately put the clones on the backfoot. Just in time for a stack of armored men and women to burst in, who with quick and efficient precision blasted their way through the clones with impeccable skill and marksmanship.
The holo zoomed in and paused on one of the lead armored figures. Computer analysis began picking apart every detail and marking on the armor, bringing up matches from the database and highlighting them - including the signature T-shaped visors on the helmets.
Another holo panel with an image appeared, this one, according to its date, was a week or so before the Clone Wars kicked off. This image was on Geonosis and showed the still image of Jango Fett in his armor.
"Mandalorians," I muttered. Anakin glanced at me with slight incredulousness.
"Indeed, young Ahsoka, correct you are," Yoda nodded and a small smile graced his green face. "Old enemies of the Jedi, they are."
"This team of… Mandalorians," Obi-wan said with a small hint of reluctance, "managed to cripple the cruiser. It had been on its way to join the Botajef garrison, but will now have to first be repaired in the field, before it can limp back to Kuat for major repair."
"So have the Mandalorians joined the CIS if we are to judge from this?" Anakin asked.
"That is the question that must be answered urgently," Windu declared. "Officially, Mandalore has declared itself neutral in the hostilities between the CIS and the Republic. Their pacifist New Mandalorian ways does not allow them to even materially or financially contribute to the war. This recording has reached the eyes of the Loyalist Committee and has caused considerable political tension, especially because Mandalore leads the newly formed Council of Neutral Systems. Now there is doubt over whether their stated neutrality is just a convenient ruse, while they contribute Mandalorian commandos to the CIS war effort."
"Whatever this is, I do not think we are witnessing an officially sanctioned operation," Obi-wan said with certainty.
"Certain of that you are, Master Kenobi?" Yoda probed.
"I am entirely certain Duchess Satine would never order this."
"Perhaps," Windu looked up into the massive holos. "The problem is that your certainty must be backed up with evidence we can place before the Senate. The Duchess may also not have ordered this raid, but she has an entire government below her with people in positions of influence and power that may have a desire to return to the old Mandalorian ways."
Obi-wan stroked his beard, "Then I will go to Mandalore myself and ascertain the truth of the matter."
"Agreed, Skywalker and Padawan Tano, go with you they shall," Yoda said.
"That would be somewhat excessive, Master Yoda, for what should be a diplomatic visit," Obi-wan pointed out.
The Grandmaster of the Order looked to Anakin and then to me with a rather inscrutable expression.
"Dangerous times these are, Master Kenobi. Legendary warriors the Mandalorians were, who fought and crossed blades with the Jedi many times over the ages. In this time of galactic conflict, foresee I do, there will be those who wish to bring the past to the present."
"Very well, Master. Anakin, Ahsoka, we leave in the afternoon, 1400."
We bowed at the dismissal and as we walked out of the com center, my head was somewhat spinning as I metaphysically looked back, tracing the path of events.
I had dealt with my missing lightsaber alone. Not needing the help of Master Tera Sinube, the elderly Jedi who was effectively the Order's criminal specialist. I hadn't met him, therefore I couldn't be roped in to help teach his joint class of younglings with Yoda. This briefing had probably happened in the timeline that was, but now that I was free for assignment…
Good grief, I pulled away from the probability lines, feeling the beginnings of a headache.
I steeled myself… I had chosen this path and would see it through.
If there was one thing about life in a galaxy with hyperspace, fighting a war and being a Jedi, it was that you would barely be back at home for a few days, then you would abruptly find yourself back on a ship returning the same way you had just taken to come home.
The ship in question that Obi-wan chose for our journey to Mandalore was a rather nostalgic surprise, if only for myself. Anakin found the thing hopelessly archaic and undergunned naturally.
"A single laser cannon turret? Really?"
Obi-wan dearly looked like he wanted to heave a long-suffering sigh. "This is the only ship we have on short notice that met the passenger requirements while not being an overtly military ship. Arriving in anything remotely naval and well armed will not be conducive to getting on Duchess Satine's good side."
"But a YT-1000 light freighter of all things?" Anakin practically whined.
I had to do a small mental exercise to keep the amusement off my face as we stood in the expansive main hangar of the Jedi Temple. In front of me was the predecessor to the famous YT-1300 of the future.
The YT-1000 was a saucer shaped craft with its cockpit blister sticking directly out the front of the vessel with the two forward cargo spurs flanking it on either side. You could definitely see the design lineage in every curve and strut of the vessel, which would lead to the Millenium Falcon. This specific craft had been worked on by Temple engineers to reach a Class 1 hyperdrive rating, including quite a few defensive systems such as heavier shielding, armor and a comprehensive ECM suite. They had even managed it whilst still keeping the outward visual profile and appearance looking relatively normal, including giving the ship a rather weathered look. Just passing it by, the layman would assume he was looking at a normal, older freighter and not a lightly armed, heavily defensive, diplomatic vessel.
Obi-wan merely folded his arms, gave his old student a look and waited patiently.
"Fine, fine," Anakin relented and pushed our gear up the loading ramp on its repulsorlift.
"Indignant question: Master, are you sure you wish to entrust our existence to this ridiculous scrapheap?"
I could not stop my own long-suffering sigh at HK's question and turned to the droid, who was looking rather naked without his cannons on his back.
"What's the matter, HK? Don't you trust the Temple engineers?"
"Answer: I have studied the service life of this… thing. I sincerely doubt any technical skill could possibly restore it to a serviceable state."
"The engineers disagree with you, get on."
"Reluctant obeyance: Very well, master."
HK-47 grabbed his own chest of gear and walked up the ramp.
"Sorry about that Master Kenobi and thank you for letting me bring him. Ever since he heard we were going to Mandalore he's been a nightmare."
Obi-wan nodded, "Given HK's history, I'd imagine he'd be an asset if the worst comes to pass. Do keep him on a short leash though."
HK had only recently returned from a long-term mission I'd sent him on, to Cato Neimoida. Keeping an eye on Rush Clovis and a number of other tasks which would keep the banker happy and content with his lot.
I bowed to Obi-wan in acknowledgement and thanks, and walked up the ramp.
The interior was the typical industrial Corellian aesthetic, but nicely cleaned up with even a fresh coat of paint. If I looked quickly, I could imagine I was on the Falcon itself, but this was a smaller ship with space for two crew, four passengers and only 75 tons of internal cargo. There was not even a tiny recreation area, with only a single narrow circular corridor winding through the ship, that led to the various compartments.
Anakin was naturally in the forward cockpit busy familiarizing himself with everything.
"So this ship has a name, Skyguy?" It was very much bad luck even in the Corusca galaxy for a ship carrying people to not have a name.
"Yes, it's the Pilgrim."
I dumped myself in the co-pilot seat and considered that. It was okay, dignified, though not memorable. It was a small ongoing quest of mine to find a ship that could also be a home away from home, but so far nothing that was being sold by any of the starship manufacturers had really hit that sweet spot I was looking for. What also went with that was to find a name for it, which had also been eluding me.
More and more it seemed I was going to have to design my own ship and send it to a manufacturer, though that was stupidly expensive, not to mention would make it unique and unable to really blend in anywhere.
"All right, Anakin, time to go," Obi-wan announced, stepping into the cockpit.
The urgency of our mission bumped us up to priority departure, which allowed the Pilgrim to take a direct launch trajectory from the Jedi Temple, straight up out of the atmosphere of Coruscant.
The queue we couldn't skip though was the wait for the outbound north east hyperspace lane that would get us back on the Hydian Way.
I took the time to familiarize myself with the ECM suite of the Pilgrim. It was a full military package, with even gravitic and magnetometric chaff, not to mention a system that would slightly bloom or shrink the Pilgrim's EM profile to make it appear to be an entirely different craft as long as you remained beyond visual range. That was a rather neat trick.
"Finally, here we go." Anakin pulled on the hyperdrive lever and the stars streaked past us until we were plunged into the roiling blue infinite tunnel of hyperspace. He listened carefully to the sound of the engines, consulted a few readings before nodding. "I think we're good. The engineers did a good job with this rustbucket."
"I'll be sure to pass your glowing praise along to them," Obi-wan said dryly. "Now that we're underway I want to brief you all on the specifics of Mandalore and what you can expect."
"Oh, that's right, you spent a lot of time there as a padawan," Anakin said, tapping the controls and engaging the autopilot.
We followed Obi-wan to the only central meeting place the Pilgrim had, its cramped galley. Anakin got himself a glass of water before sitting down. I grabbed a caf and Obi-wan declined a drink when I offered him the same.
The Jedi master put a small holo-projector on the table and it activated to show the world in question.
"That's the oddest desert world I've ever seen," Anakin commented.
"That's because it is technically a man made desert. The world was utterly ruined to ecological collapse. Their latest civil war killed off the last vegetation and fauna roughly twenty years ago. The planet is technically uninhabitable, but the Mandalorians are a stubborn people and refuse to leave. They live in domed cities that dot the planet's surface at the points where all their old cities used to stand. Their agriculture all takes place in artificial skyscrapers inside these domes and on the primary moon, Concordia, which is the only place in the system where the old biodiversity of Mandalore still survives in some form.
"Even Concordia, though, is scarred from extensive mining practices that used to fuel their war machine. Most of their budget and resources is focused on returning the moon to its former lush state, which would allow greater food production and ease the strain of their rigid population controls. They also depend a great deal on food imports as their local production falls well short of supplying their needs."
"Which neatly explains their reluctance to do anything for the Republic war effort. They literally can't afford it in either monetary, manpower or material terms. I also can't imagine the war has done their food imports any favors," I reasoned.
"Exactly," Obi-Wan nodded. "The same can be said for a lot of worlds on the new Council for Neutral Systems. The war has driven up the import costs and so the people of Mandalore have to cough up even more credits to just keep their current population fed, never mind expanding that."
"Statement: It is almost sad, to see the old enemy reduced to such a deplorable state," HK piped up from the door, where he was leaning his white GU chassis against the galley door frame. "I remember when the galaxy trembled at the mere mention of Mandalorians. Their crusades threatened the Old Republic's very existence and was a great factor in why Revan himself eventually fell."
"I think we can all agree though that we're glad the New Mandalorians would never threaten the galaxy in that way again," Obi-Wan declared.
"Statement: That may be, meatbag. Conjecture: The situation you're describing now though is exactly the conditions any remaining old Mandalorian agitators would look for to regain support, including external elements such as the CIS."
"Which is why we must proceed on this mission with extra caution and be diplomatically sensitive. If there is a rogue element at work in the New Mandalorian government they will act in some manner against us. Perhaps try to drive a further wedge between the Republic and Mandalore. That is why only Ahsoka and I will leave the ship when we land and make contact with Duchess Satine. You two will remain and watch over the Pilgrim."
"Babysitting the ship, come on, Obi-wan," Anakin shook his head.
"There is a time and place for action, my old padawan and you are not the most subtle or diplomatic Jedi I would choose to have at my side for this."
I grinned, "Patience master, something is going to happen sooner or later and you can bet we're going to have all the action we can stomach."
He gave me a raised eyebrow, "Really?"
"Master, it's us, when have we ever gotten anywhere and something has not blown up, crashed or gone wrong in some sort of spectacular way?"
Obi-wan thoughtfully stroked his beard, "That is a rather good point your padawan has, Anakin."
"Are you saying I'm a magnet for trouble?"
"Anakin, you've been a magnet for trouble since before you were an initiate," Obi-wan didn't hide his smile at all this time.
Anakin gulped his water down with a disgruntled air, "Come on, HK, cargo hold, let's spar."
The assassin droid looked at me, "Go ahead, HK."
"Eager approval: Thank you, master."
I continued drinking at my caf, whilst Obi-Wan seemed slightly melancholic staring at the holo of the world he had spent nearly more than a year on, fighting for both his own life and defending Satine.
"Ahsoka, how is Anakin?"
The question was softly uttered but that did nothing to prevent me from being startled by it. I put my cup down and met Obi-Wan's eyes as I considered an answer. This was not a Jedi Council Master speaking at the moment, but rather the man who had been a father and mentor figure to Anakin. It left me with an interesting dilemma. I was just as vested in Anakin's psychological and physical well being as Obi-Wan was. I had to give an answer that was as close to the truth as possible, whilst preserving trust and privacy.
"If there is one word I can use to describe him at the moment, then it's frustration. Frustration that the war has no clear road towards its end. Frustration of the burden placed on him and the expectations of the Order. He worries about me, you and all his friends - that this war will result in our deaths."
He nodded in understanding, "A feeling many share. Beware, however, that frustration doesn't lead to fear." My own frustration at that sentiment from Obi-Wan I kept carefully hidden, letting it pass through me. "I'm also rather impressed at the progress of both of you in the past year, despite the demands the war places on you."
"Thank you, Master Kenobi. It's not easy but somehow we find ways to make the time for it."
"Good. We must not forget that when all is said and done, we are still Jedi and only fighting now to win the peace. We would do well to take the lesson that the history of Revan teaches."
I couldn't resist that. "How well do you know that history, master?"
"It is something that I only knew in general in the past, but when you recovered HK-47, I did a bit of further historical research. A fascinating chain of events, with a number of parallels we can draw to today. The Jedi follow the charismatic Revan to war against the Mandalorian crusaders, a split in the Order, the disagreement over whether to fight at all, their fall."
"We can hopefully chart a course away from all that," I said with as much optimism and hope as I could but my rebellious brain and heart didn't feel it. How could I? Given what I knew.
Obi-Wan gave me a look that I hadn't really fooled him, "You are perhaps correct to hold onto that cynicism, padawan, given what you've experienced in the war, but don't let it blind you to the possibility of good in people and the galaxy."
"Yes, master."
We heard the snap-hiss ignition of lightsabers, their electric humming and clashing, echoing through the ship.
"Shall we go and observe? I'm rather curious how a droid of HK's experience handles a lightsaber."
"I doubt you would walk away from it feeling disappointed, Master Kenobi."
The Pilgrim emerged from hyperspace four and a half days later outside the mass shadow of Mandalore.
A look at the passive scanners showed that space traffic around the world was rather sparse, with the majority of craft going to and fro from the moon of Concordia. It also showed me that I could park a single Venator in orbit and conquer the place in less than an afternoon. There was not even a single armed satellite that I could detect. Maybe they had starfighters squirreled away somewhere in the dome cities, but nothing I was seeing showed that they could resist if the CIS showed up tomorrow with just a couple of Munificients. The only thing that saved their asses was the Republic Navy's current stranglehold on the Hydian, with the front line battlespace 1700 lightyears away in straight line, but requiring 2300 lightyears of travel due to hyperspace lane routes.
My focus turned to the moon of Concordia and I could pick up nothing but civilian activity; standard fusion power generation, large towns, the occasional active mine, but a steadily recovering biosphere. My fingers itched to switch on active scans but that would be rude and undiplomatic.
Anakin smoothly inserted the Pilgrim into the atmosphere of Mandalore, setting a straight course for the capital city of Sundari, whilst also speaking to the traffic control and sending our diplomatic credentials.
It didn't take long after that for us to be given landing clearance to a landing spot on the upper exterior of the city dome.
The sheer size of the dome was truly impressive and from a distance it rose out of the flat lifeless sands of the desert like someone had taken a small, thirty kilometer diameter Death Star and buried it halfway.
The Pilgrim landed on a large pad that had its own demarcated space, but not far away dozens of large freighters were coming and going, delivering goods and taking the city's exports away to be sold.
Already waiting for us on the landing pad was an open-top transport speeder, where a tall burly guardsman in ornate but very functional blue and white armor was standing, holding a force pike. My eyes could already pick out that his gauntlets, upper chest and helmet armor was made of beskar iron.
Sundari was sitting right on top of the only active beskar iron mine in the galaxy. The Mandalorians had used it since the days of the Old Republic in the creation of their weapons, armor and starships. Naturally, the New Mandalorians only used it for peaceful purposes, but the secrets of creating beskar, the additives required, the process, which truly gave it its infamous strength that could resist blaster and lightsaber, was a jealously guarded secret. A secret even the New Mandalorians would take to their graves, never revealing it to outsiders.
"All right, Anakin, HK, watch the ship, you can take passive intelligence gathering measures only," Obi-wan reiterated.
"Statement: I am already in their unsecured communications, meatbag. I will crack the secured ones shortly."
"Good, Ahsoka, off we go."
We left the ship and for this occasion, I was in my full Aegis armor minus the helmet. The reasoning was that Obi-Wan was still in his half-armor and I really wanted the capabilities considering who was waiting on Concordia. As much as I wanted to deal with a non-antagonistic Satine, there was something about arch-pacifists that rubbed me the wrong way and I couldn't resist shoving a bit of pragmatic reality her way.
Obi-wan would've liked to have me in less militaristic attire, but my armor had enough Jedi-ish aesthetic that it was just a slightly more armored version of his outfit in effect.
"The Duchess awaits you, General Kenobi," the Mandalorian guardsman spoke up as we approached him. He turned abruptly and got on the speeder.
We both got on the flat top speeder as the guardsman activated it and abruptly the world around us just seemed to explode into a blurring speed.
I regarded the speeder below my feet with an impressed awe. Such strong inertial dampeners in such a small package, not to mention the shield in front keeping us from being blown off.
The speeder passed through the dome entrance and beyond was a truly breathtaking city where not a single cubic meter of space seemed to be wasted, yet didn't give the impression of being cramped.
The buildings were based on cuboid designs and didn't just go up and down, but also horizontally in a manner that neatly showed off the strength of beskar. Clear lanes of air traffic were designated through the morass of buildings, which were themselves rather beautiful, with sheets of transpirasteel that were both translucent and transparent. The buildings themselves could intelligently act as mirrors, bringing light from the outer edges of the dome into the interior depths.
In the very center of the dome a large open area housed the Sundari Royal Palace and neighboring it was a large park with the only plants I had seen so far in the entire dome.
It was all beautiful but the artificiality of it just left a bad final impression on me. I was perhaps just a bit too much of a nature freak. Ironic, considering the Jedi Temple had been my home for the last 13 years, but this was probably my love of Naboo talking and my journeys in my old life to southern Africa and Asia.
The Royal Palace was a rather muted affair considering the name it had. It wasn't some towering edifice of opulence and beauty, but rather just five floors of architecture that I'd call 'hypermodern', with an abundance of transparisteel. The only way you'd realize this was an important structure was all the guardsmen it had and the strict no-fly zones that surrounded it.
We were led inside and another problem with it came to the fore. It was almost too transparent. I could look in a direction and see through multiple rooms and offices. It was like they were screaming, 'We have nothing to hide'. Everyone could see what everyone else was doing. That a government could be run out of this place was astonishing.
Finally, we arrived in what had to be an audience chamber for the Duchess on the upper floor of the palace.
It was a long, rectangular room with a high slanted, partially transparent ceiling, through which you could see a dozen buildings seemingly suspended overhead. It was slightly nerve wracking as I tried to imagine the physics going on above my head.
On the far end of the room, against the wall, was a tall throne that stood on half a dozen raised steps. It didn't have much ostentation but its high backrest was made out of artfully stained transparisteel with flowery shapes all pointing to a central red circle.
A door hissed open at the side of the chamber and a balding man in his late middle ages walked in. He was immaculately groomed with graying blonde hair, beard and goatee and wore stately, yet understated white and beige clothing. His strides showed he was still physically strong despite appearances.
"General Kenobi," the man greeted with a mild smile.
"Thank you for meeting with us, Prime Minister Almec." The two men briefly shook hands. "This is Commander Ahsoka Tano, my assistant."
"A pleasure to meet you, commander," he promptly shook my hand as well, giving a slight appraising eye to my armor.
"A pleasure to be here, Prime Minister."
"I greet you both here as a servant of the people," he stated, stepping back and immediately getting to business. "However, I am troubled by the false rumors that brought you here." He graciously gestured for us to walk with him towards the throne. "Mandalore would never turn against the Republic. Duchess Satine values peace more than her own life."
"Oh, I'm well aware of the Duchess' views-" Obi-Wan began but was somewhat rudely interrupted by Almec.
"Master Kenobi, Mandalore's violent past is behind us. After the civil war, all of our warriors who refused to lay down their arms and armor were exiled to our moon Concordia. They promptly began fighting amongst themselves there and died out."
"Are you so certain of that? Before the war, I encountered a man who wore Mandalorian armor, who was also very proficient in fighting me, by the name of Jango Fett."
"Jango Fett was a common bounty hunter," Almec insisted. "How he acquired that armor I couldn't begin to say. No beskar smith on Mandalore would consent to-"
Almec was interrupted in turn.
"Well, Master Kenobi," said a rather pleasant, yet commanding, female voice. Entering the audience chamber from another door to the side of the throne, was Duchess Satine herself.
She was rather beautiful in a classical sort of way; high cheekbones, prominent nose and pointed chin with razor sharp blue eyes that I could tell held a strong will and intelligence. Her outfit was an elegant blue and green gown with a stately headdress woven into her blonde hair that would give a Nubian queen's headgear a run for its money in complexity and size.
Getting that thing perfect must take ages and made me rather grateful I didn't have hair on my head to be styled in such exhaustive fashion.
She was followed by two Royal guardsmen with force pikes and a male assistant wearing a hooded robe.
"My shining Jedi Knight to the rescue once again." I couldn't decide whether her tone was mocking or simply a statement of fact. She walked to her throne which lit up with an inner light from the backrest the moment she sat down, including a muted chime that echoed through the room. "And what's this, you have a padawan?"
"Not technically, no, allow me to introduce Padawan Ahsoka Tano, the padawan of my previous student, who has accompanied me on this journey."
I bowed in reflex as I was introduced.
"Has it been so long since we last saw each other?" Satine marveled.
"Well, the long years have not detracted from your beauty," Obi-wan declared with a completely straight face.
Her eyes narrowed, "Kind words from a man who accuses me of treason."
"I would never accuse you of personal wrongdoing, duchess," Obi-Wan protested earnestly without pause. "However, a group of Seperatist saboteurs attacked one of our cruisers, Mandalorian saboteurs." He produced a handheld holopad, which activated and showed a fluid holoclip of one of the saboteurs in full Mandolorian armor with jetpack, running, gunning and killing clone troopers.
Almec shook his head at it, his face twisting with distaste. "This has to be a false flag. I don't know where anyone would get that armor, are you even sure it was actual beskar? No Mandalorian would engage in such violence, not anymore."
Obi-wan tapped on the holopad, it advanced to show the Mandalorian's armor clearly taking multiple hits from the clone trooper's blasters and the wearer easily shrugging off the blasts.
Almec was rather astonished. It was rather interesting that he actually felt that way and was not just putting on a show.
Satine clenched a fist on her armrest, leaned forward, indignant anger radiating out from her, "Every one of my people is as trustworthy as I am."
I wonder if Obi-Wan caught that little emphasis.
"I know we sound defensive but-" her robed assistant began but was interrupted.
Satine continued as if her assistant hadn't even spoken, "Clearly your investigation was ordered because the Senate is eager to intervene in our affairs!"
"The investigation was ordered by the Jedi Council," Obi-Wan corrected her gently.
Her face softened somewhat, she sat back and visibly calmed down. "I stand corrected," she acknowledged, then held out her hand invitingly, palm down. "General Kenobi, perhaps you'd like to join me on a walk through the city."
Satine's abrupt shift in tone from forbidding monarch to a pleasant 'queen' was rather jarring. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her and she merely gave him an inscrutable look. Whatever subtext communication was going on here, it gave Obi-Wan a clear message and he stepped forward to take hold of her offered hand. At which point she stood, her throne dimmed, she grabbed a hold of Obi-Wan's arm and the two of them walked towards the audience chamber exit. Two royal guardsmen automatically stepped forward to escort them and kept a respectful distance behind.
Obi-Wan gave me a look in turn and I acknowledged it with a visible nod. It would've been a bit too suspicious to have no open communication between me and him at this point.
They left the room and most everyone else including guardsmen, attendants and Almec also left. I gave Obi-Wan a thirty second head start before starting to follow.
Their destination was the neighboring park, which had the rather on the nose name of Peace Park. In a domed city such as Sundari, the idea of a park or garden was quite different from the norm. It was in effect, just as artificial as the city, consisting of four floors of enclosed space, with only the upper floor open to the air. Plants were beautifully arranged and interspersed on floors of transparisteel, with benches allowing people to sit and relax among 'nature'. I really wouldn't call it nature, since the plants themselves were manicured to cuboid shapes, but at least they were green.
I could sense Obi-Wan with Satine on the upper floor of the park and decided to head to the lowest floor to get a sense of the ordinary Mandalorian people.
It was immediately apparent that the park was a favorite spot for local couples to get together. There were very little public displays of affection, but it was easy to sense the attraction, affection, lust and love in the air around them. There were also families with children and parents trying to ride herd on them, which had me automatically smiling at the sight.
It was overall a very pleasant place for a Jedi, despite the artificial surroundings. I felt like I could get a bit lost in just experiencing the small oasis of life and Light in the Force.
Duty called though and I tapped my armor's encrypted comlink, which paired and linked with Obi-Wan's comms.
My feet carried me through the park and I affected the appearance as if I was just the same as the others around me, enjoying the place. My mind's eye through Farsight was watching Obi-Wan and Satine, looking for threats that wouldn't be apparent to the guardsmen and watching the master's back, so to speak.
"...Mandalore is prosperous since the last time I was here," said Obi-Wan.
Satine's face turned somewhat bitter, "Not everyone on Mandalore believes peace is a sign of progress. There's a group that calls itself Deathwatch. I imagine these are the renegades you are looking for. They idolize violence and our warrior past. There are those among us, certain officials who are working to root out these criminals. It has been an ongoing investigation."
Obi-wan frowned with worry, "How widespread is this Deathwatch movement?"
Satine looked somewhat exasperated, "It's hardly a movement. It's a small group of hooligans who choose to vandalize public places, nothing more. We shall soon have them in custody. They've been tracked down to Concordia."
"I hope you're right, duchess. Sabotaging a Republic cruiser is a bit of an extreme escalation from mere vandalizing."
Satine nodded regally, "Yes, that is worrying as is the fact that they were wearing full beskar armor. I did not want to speak of this in the throne room as everything said there becomes public record… but one of our beskar smiths is missing and we believe she's either part of Deathwatch or held hostage by them."
"A Mandalorian beskar smith possibly working for the Separatists, willing or not, is not a pleasant thought to consider, duchess."
"It is a nightmare scenario for Mandalore," Satine acknowledged. "However, we've studied the smith's psychological record extensively. Despite her possible poor choice in allegiance, she won't release the secrets of beskar to the CIS, she's Mandalorian and that secret is sacrosanct to us all. We don't choose our smiths idly. They undergo the most vigorous screening, training and vetting in the galaxy before they even get a chance to hold a hammer."
I tried to brace myself yet despite my preparation I still flinched when the instant, tearing, cracking noise of an explosion washed over me. It disrupted my focus and I lost my Farsight.
The overpressure felt like someone had just slapped my montrals and a strong breeze blasted me in the face.
My eyes were drawn to the top floor of the park as smoke and fire raged from one end.
Where a large obelisk monument had been, was only rubble and debris.
Then the screaming started and I immediately sensed many signs of life beginning to wane and struggle, including some wink out entirely.
Not ten feet from me a piece of high velocity debris had struck a man dead.
A surge of people fled away and I had to do a bit of fancy footwork to dodge through them as I ran along the edge of the park.
"Master! Are you okay?" I asked urgently.
"I'm fine, Ahsoka, as is the duchess. We have more than a dozen dead and numerous injured up here. Keep an eye out, the bomber may be close."
My run carried me closer to the bomb site, to the north-west and Obi-Wan came through again.
"I think I have him, Ahsoka, in pursuit, heading west. Come up to this level and try to cut him off!"
I skidded to a stop and reversed course, fixing and sensing Obi-wan's relative position in my mind.
Thankfully, the initial wave of fleeing people had passed and I was left with clear ground to run, allowing me to open up the taps for a bit of Force Sprinting.
"I have him cornered…"
I looked up in time to hear blaster fire coming from a balcony four floors above me.
The snap-hiss of Obi-wan's lightsaber followed.
I was a bit torn on whether to jump and scale the distance or…
The shooting ended abruptly and the sound of a lightsaber shutting itself off reached me. Then a scuffle and the sound of a body hitting the floor.
"I don't want to hurt you," Obi-wan said.
Ah, the advantages of being a Togruta. Of course, it wasn't just my natural echosense and good hearing, but also the Force, and I could sense Obi-Wan, Satine and someone else above me, presumably the bomber.
"Stay back," he urged Satine.
In the next moment I saw the bomber jumping onto the railing, facing Obi-wan and Satine.
I had never before sensed the emotions and mind of someone clearly on his way to commit suicide. It was extremely unpleasant and unnerving. It was utter focus, an almost complete abandonment of self, mixed with a madness as he accepted his fate. His mind was filled with only one last task.
"Cal pava bro'kun, del shi ve'raan!"
The bomber raised his arms and fell back, his face turning into a contented smile as he plunged to his death.
"No," I declared and raised a hand.
He had barely fallen for two seconds before my telekinesis caught him, slowing him down steadily until he was seemingly lying on nothing but air, just a meter before the hard unyielding transparisteel floor.
The bomber tried to turn his head, his eyes widening in disbelief.
I swiftly turned my TK from a catch, to a Stasis, freezing him in place and rotating him to face me.
Now close enough to touch the fanatic, and presumably a Deathwatch member, I could spot areas on the crown of his bald head that showed thickening of the skin. He most likely wore that infamous helmet a lot. His eyes bulged in disbelief and then anger at the sight of me.
"Yes, a Jedi, you're welcome and good night." I tapped him on the forehead, where he immediately slumped into a deep sleep.
Obi-wan and Satine emerged from a building doorway as I lowered the man gently to the floor and began examining and searching him. I was also acutely aware that there was now a crowd of onlookers, a number of which had clearly seen my efforts. The sirens now reached us of emergency service speeders arriving and landing on the upper floor.
"Well done, padawan, glad you could make it in time," Obi-wan smiled with relief, kneeling down on the other side of the insensate bomber.
"You're welcome, master."
Satine looked at me with an earnest gratitude that I could tell she truly felt, "Thank you for saving his life, padawan. Despite what he has just done, more death is not what we need."
Obi-wan abruptly stood with lightsaber bursting into life, angling his blade horizontal, just in time to deflect a yellow blaster bolt into the ground that had come from above us.
I grabbed the shoulders of the sleeping bomber and pulled, whilst my own lightsabers jumped off my belt, ignited and aided our defense from the sniper.
Renewed screams echoed in my montrals as the crowd scattered again.
Satine helped me pull the heavy man back into the doorway they had come from.
The instant we had a roof over our heads I fell back on my butt with a huff and recalled my blades.
Obi-wan stayed in the doorway, his blade still lit, "Everyone all right?" he asked urgently.
"We're fine, Obi-wan," Satine huffed, straightening her headpiece somewhat in irritation.
Royal guardsmen en masse burst onto the scene and their leader promptly began securing every exit and entrance to this level of the park.
"I think I managed to send a blast right back at him, but he was perched from an overarching building nearly two hundred meters above us."
"More than likely overwatch to make sure the bomber did his job and keep him from being captured should he fail to take his own life," I said. I knew Deathwatch were hardass fanatics utterly devoted to their code, but this showed a higher level of sheer ruthlessness.
Now that things were somewhat safer I refocused on my search of the bomber, employing technometric senses as well.
From his pocket a small holo emitter jumped out, landed on the floor and burst to life with an odd tri-pronged symbol.
"It is a symbolic representation of the jai'galaar or shriek-hawk; it was used at all the other places where Deathwatch has struck on Mandalore," Satine explained.
I held my hand over his torso and winced as I yanked with my TK at something else.
Satine jumped as suddenly the bomber's pants bulged over his crotch. I moved the object inside up and it jumped out of his pants.
"Oh, a miniature hold out blaster, was that where I think it was?" Obi-wan asked.
"Yes," I answered, not wanting to think about it further and dumped the stinky weapon to the side.
I sensed something else and hovered my hand over the bomber's head, his mouth specifically. Then pulled open the man's jaw and regarded his right rear molar.
"He's got a small suicide implant back there, why didn't he just use that?"
"Not dramatic enough I expect and he wanted to send a message," Obi-wan theorized.
"We know of such devices," Satine declared. "I will have our doctors remove it safely and he'll be kept under suicide watch." She gestured to her guardsmen, two of whom came forward.
They binded hands and legs, picked up the bomber and carried him off. Another came forward and carefully bagged the holopad and miniature blaster before leaving with the evidence.
"What was he saying before he jumped, duchess? My Mando'a is a bit rusty," Obi-wan asked, as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt.
"'We are the Death Watch, of the true warrior faith'," she explained. "He also spoke it with a Concordian dialect."
"We would much like to visit this moon of yours, as it seems that is where all signs are pointing."
Satine visibly thought about it, "The Concordian moon is a province with its own governor. If you want to investigate there in a speedy fashion, you'll need me to escort you."
"That really won't be necessary," he disagreed, clearly fearing somewhat for her safety.
"A Concordian stands accused of mass murder, terrorism and treason, he'll eventually be remanded to their custody. You cannot wade the political and bureaucratic waters without me."
She decisively turned around, not giving him a further chance to argue and walked off.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the wan fondness and regret in Obi-Wan's eyes as she disappeared into the distance with her retinue of guards
I coughed somewhat awkwardly, "Master Kenobi?"
"Ah yes, sorry, got a bit lost in my thoughts. Inform the others that we'll be taking the duchess' transport to Concordia. They are to discreetly follow our position from orbit and be ready to respond should we signal for help. I've got a feeling we're going to need it."
