"Grakko's messenger has arrived, Master Ruuka." The interpreter droid spoke.

The Trandoshan waved one of his claws back. "Bring him in." Ruuka turned to his Rodian and Gamorrean guards. "Stay ready."

The messenger, wearing what almost looked like Jedi robes, walked into Ruuka's office, clean and spotless like an Imperial command center. No windows were around, and the air was stale. He noticed the two Gamorrean guards to the right, and the Rodian to the left. Their blasters were primed.

"My name is Arrakeen. I've been sent by Grakko the Hutt to deliver this..." The former Jedi placed a small holo device on the desk in front of Ruuka. Paul saw what was probably a smile, or a sneer, on the Trandoshan's face.

The holo glowed as an image of a Hutt's face appeared above.

"Ruuka," The Hutt spoke in human tounge. "If you are seeing this, then you know how much you fouled up. You allowed the shipment of MY spice, nearly 20 packages, to fall into Imperial hands. Worse, you were stupid enough to leave my name on the cargo!" The Hutt's face was twisted with anger.

"We're through. I want you out of Mos Eisley by tomorrow. If you're not gone by then, or if you refuse my offer now, I'll have the messenger kill you."

Paul nearly choked out of surprise.

Right now? He wants me to take him out now?

The holo stopped glowing, and the image faded. Paul saw the Trandoshan's face turn into a dark red. Ruuka looked up at him, his breathing becoming heavier.

Paul clenched his fists, as they are the only weapons he's got. The guards started to move closer to him.

With a rageful cry, Ruuka stood up, almost lunging Paul, pulling his blaster out of his holster. Paul called on the Force, and took the blaster out of scale hands and into his own.

He saw the look of shock on Ruuka's face as Paul stuck the barrel at his forehead and fired. As the Trandoshan's body fell back, the former Jedi shot the gun-hands of the Gamorrean guards to his right. He ducked as a bolt flew past his head by the Rodian, and Paul responded by blasting him in the leg.

The guards now dealing with their wounds, Paul simply pressed on the keypad, opened the door, and walked out.

***
Grakko's Hideout

"What's the passsword?" The Twi'lek asked in the alley.

"Smash the spirit." Paul replied. The guard nodded and stepped back. An elevator, the roof being the very ground they were standing on, rose up. He walked right in, and flipped the switch.

When the elevator doors reopened, Paul was able to see Grakko the Hutt. The gigantic slug was in the back of the room, behind crowds of smugglers, brigands, pirates, bounty hunters, and even slave girls. He had to push his way to the Hutt.

"Ahhh..." Grakko began to say, holding a cup of some exotic drink in his hand. "The carrier returns. I take it Ruuka was pleased with the message."

Paul shook his head. "He attacked me. He's been...dealt with."

The Hutt's face seemed to brighten up as he was pleased by the answer. "And his guards?"

"Dead." Grakko began laughing (along with a lot of his yes-men).

"Your proving yourself to be quite an item, Mr.Arrakeen. Already, your name is being spread along the streets...well...at least my streets."

Stupid Hutt. Always remembering the cities, never realizing that Tattooine is a dust ball. Paul smiled.

"I have another job for you." Grakko put down the drink behind him. "My spice shipment has just been moved to the local Imperial garrison. I need you to run over there and give my...request...to their commander to return it to me."

The former Jedi smiled again. "I'll do even better. I'll get your whole shipment back."

Grakko's head moved back as the words reached him. "What? But...how?" he asked.

"I've fought the Empire before. I know there tricks. Besides, if I do this right, they won't link this back to you." Paul replied.

The Hutt gave an intense stare. "How much?"

"Twenty thousand credits."

More than enough to buy a ship, get off this planet, find another lightsaber, and see what I can do about Corellia.

Like Ruuka, Grakko's face turned a dark red as his anger came out in the form of throwing his arms wildly. It was very amusing.

"Are you INSANE?! You're a MESSENGER! AN ERRAND BOY! Twenty thousand credits?! I won't even pay BOBA FETT that much!" The Hutt screaming began to die down.

"This," Paul began to say. "Will be my last job. After its done, you'll never see me again. Besides, I need a little compensation for your warning to Ruuka ahead of time what I was to do if he refused your eviction."

The Hutt glared at him, but the former Jedi could sense that Grakko will give in. "Very well. But I will NOT support you in this matter. You need help, you find it yourself."

Paul gave a nod. "Thank you, Grakko." As he walked away from the Hutt and into the crowd, the Hutt turned to the Twi'lek beside him.

Paul sat there in the corner booth, scanning the crowd of any possible 'recruits.'

Infiltrating an Imp camp can't be done in my weakened condition. I'll need to get a group together, maybe some mercs I can share some money with. he thought.

And where there were force-users, there was usually some rebellion or caper afoot that was of interest to someone who might pay handsomely for information. Jaz could certainly use a gig, having spent her last job on parts for her pirate-stripped cruiser. She was still quite far from her goal to retire on her own island on Naboo or similar picturesque planet. Had she taken Striker’s offer to continue running his business for him, she would have been set by now, but taking anything from that Corellian anymore was too painful. She figured if anything she owed him for all the years he took care of her, gave her a purpose.

Dressed now in average civilian cargo-pilot gear, she could be a smuggler for all the mystery man knew. She sipped the last of her drink, then ordered another, tapping her foot the way nervous runners often did. The second shot-sized drink disappeared in one swallow, and she watched more than a few pair of eyes take note.

Amoungst the many in the highly populated streets- where transportation hovered off the surface, and speed through, blowing the clothing into a flutter- was a man attired in bright white trench coat, covering his facail expression with the shadow of the hood. Stepping toward the door of a small building where he was granted a stay as long as he found it fit. The man glanced once to each side and opened the door, only responded by a step into the darkness of the half-opened door, and quickly locked before a peep could inform the one who could possibly be spying upon the man of what was within.

The lights was dimmed, and only the frame of the man walking in bright white could be seen. Grasping the sides of his hood, he leisurally threw it off. Running his hand in a slow drift in the air, as his hand was opened widely the switch to turn upon the light was thrown 'on' to shine and define the rooms description.

It was a room only exitable by three entrance. One toward the basement, the other to the bed room and the next to the living room where many times he rested, nuturing his whittered frame as well as the exit into the city life. Yet who was this man who kept his house tiddy and fit. A Explorer, or something much more fantasting then that of an geographical investigator.

"I will have to say, those bar fights are very senseless" The young adult walked to the table where a basket was held, holding fruits and snacks that could be quickly snatched on a quick exit. Swinging his over-attire off, and throwing it skillfully upon the chair. Heading toward the 'living' room he looked at the furnature that was placed along the circular shaped room. The soft luxuries couched placed behind the interior of the seatings around the postieroir of the center, on the edges of the wall.

"Now for a rest." The man said, motioning toward the couch to prepare for a relaxing drop upon his back on the luxuries foundation of the couch. Hitting agianst the soft leather fabrics, he threw his head up, placing it a top the pliant arm. Staring to the ceiling, his weary eyes fell closed, as the slumber began with a snore. As the snores slowly manifested into low-tuned inhales and exhales, the dreams dropped into his brain as he slept soundlessly..

((OOC: Sorry the first one was in the wrong thread, didn't know this one was homing the place of Tattonie))

The Hutt couldn't have sent a spy. I would have sensed that half an hour ago.

Curious, the Jedi looked back and saw a woman dressed as a ship pilot, possibly a freighter, staring at him. Paul waited to see what her reaction would be.

She held his gaze bravely. Handsome and wise were his eyes, having seen much, yet revealing little. Definitely force-user eyes, she decided. But on which side? Or does he tread both, as good old Striker did. No matter to her, so long as there was a good side somewhere in there to stay on.
Howlrunners... he's so like Striker...She couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

A slight smile crossed her lips and she tore her eyes away to glance back at her empty glass. Signaling the bartender, she leaned over and told him to fill her shot glass and send a refill of whatever the man in the corner was having.

"Bah, stupid windows." He muttered to himself as he came to a stand from his couch which he had taken a quick nap along previously. Crouching over and placing his hand upon it, he sled it gradually down the side, neating it up for any guest that could come.

Heading out the room, he placed his hands in his small pockets with his head down as his mind began beating new rhytmic tones from Twi'lek musicians at his previous meeting with such a being on Tattonie. Gesturing his hand to the side with a wiggle of his wrist, an invisible orb beckons a two items of which have been layed neatly along a table chair. First to come was the light-weighted coating, and in the action of it heading his way he motioned his body so it would slide perfectly along his being for his exiting of his shelter. Then followed by that was a blade, known to many as the Lightsaber of a Jedi. Placing it under his trench coat, he walked up the steps and headed out into the dusty climate known on the map of the Universe as Tattonie; Home of the Old Hutt Empire.

Grabbing the hood cloth he throws it fittingly over his face, hiding the dust filled gust from having any form of collision with his eyes to damage it, as well as hide his idenity. Heading toward a shop down the way, it'd be his last visit or travel on Tattonie before he would head on the road once more. The life of a Rogue Jedi, never standing in the same place.

Heading into the bar, he could heard the tune of the insturment play, beating inside his ear drum. Rakim, the humanoid creature headed toward the bar as one stood exiting the premises for his duties of the day. Placing himself upon the stool, he looked toward the Bar Waitress, with a smirk on her face, staring into the beauitful eyes of hte woman.

"Has anyone told you of your great, and beauitful-" Young Jo'La-kin paused as his lips curled into a flirtatious smirk, as his arousment elevated-" structure. Your an exteremly attractive Mrs-?" He paused awaiting a reply.

"Its not Mrs, its Miss-Im not married. My names Sheilla-" She said with a smirk on her face, placing a meduim-sized glass a top the counter- "Whatcha want?" Sheilla inquired somewhat over intensily for such a casually question statement.

Rakim smiled back at her, and placed his hand softly upon the ladies wrist, and moved forward, whispering in the young ladies ear.

"I want the information I know you have. Also Im exhausted, so I'd like just a glass of water.." Rakim fell back in his stoll, and watched her walk slowly behind the counter, her strut very attractive and polished with sparkle of flirtation.

Rakim's expression intesnified, his teeth grinded against each other, fighting to hold back some berserk temper that he fueled its way to his face.

The dark dirty skinned humanoid stealthfully rolled his hand out as in the form of holding an object, and abruptly the drink shifted from the woman's grasp into the palm of Rakim. Staring down into it, he took one quick gulp and throws the glass to the foundation. An ear shattering, attention grasping sound effect splurred thorought the mellow enviroment. The disruptive dispurst of the glass flung all the eyes toward the one who waas responsible for such a sound; Rakim.

He headed toward the door, but annoyingly motioned laborely, informing all of them that his action as purposedly, and orginated for michevious outbreak. As his feet step the sand of the frontier of the building, he headed toward the space station where he landed his ship.

Allaria stepped into the crouded streets with her sister, and cast her glacial gaze about the dusty planet...

"Dreary, my sister, Indeed very dreary, But i do believe we can find a bit of... Fun."

She smiled at her sister and soon they were walking along, as they did so she rested her head against her sisters strong shoulder, as if she were tired...

meanwhile a hand darted here and there, causing people off in the distance to "trip on rocks"

She smiled to herself and walked on...

Slowly they came to a halt in front of a little cantina. "Perhaps something to drink, My sister?" she questioned lightly...

IllaAnda strode the dusty streets of the Tatooine spaceport as if she owned them... which in fact, if all were really said and done, she did. Her head held high, her black hair billowing about her like a fog of doom, she moved along in smooth and graceful steps, one hand upon the hilt of her sword, "Skemmdarvargur," the other now moving from where she had it placed lightly about her sister's shoulders.

Coming upon them in a series of rumbles and moans of protest was a ronto with its jabbering jawa master. The little creature was beating the beast about the head with a gaffi stick it had somehow managed to appropriate; Illa's eyes narrowed to see that elegant if elephantine animal toss its head at the mistreatment. True the evil daughter cared not a whit for the fate of any mere mortal creature, but it displeased her to see the obvious contrast of so tiny a being lording it over so great a one. Slowly her eyes reddened, and oily black shadows began swimming in their depths.

Then, at the exact moment when her cunning and boosted senses told her that absolutely no one was looking, she acted. In less than the blink of an eye, Skemmdarvargur was unsheathed, swinging in a great glittering arc, to snatch up a rock at her feet and pelt it directly into the face of the unexpecting ronto. Then it was back in its sheath, and her arm was about Allaria. Still moving, they turned their heads to watch the unfolding events.

Completely startled, not to mention hurt by the rock flying into it's eye, the ronto let out a bellowing wail and reared straight up. The jawa, completely unprepared for this, fell to the earth, his gaffi stick flailing. With another roar the ronto came to a thundering crash back on its four feet, one forefoot oblitering the gaffi stick, the other one treating the unfortunate jawa in a similar manner.

IllaAnda merely smiled and tightened her hug about Allaria.

"A mere portent of things to come, my sweet," she purred, raising her hand to nestle her sister's head against herself. They strode on together, their mutual eye at last coming upon an obscure cantina sitting there amidst the dust and sand. The pair did not so much as exchange a glance, but moved on over to it, stopping to stand before its entrance.

"Perhaps something to drink--?" Allaria's musical voice came into her ears, prodding her forward. Together they entered the dimly lit interior of the establishment.

It was filled with smoke and the stench of many alien bodies and the roar and laughter and cries of pain and all the other general noises one would come to associate with a cantina on Tatooine. The ever-present jizz-wailer trio warbled off-key in a corner; Illa sniffed, then her eyes caught someone.

"I am not as adept as you in sensing others, my sister," she whispered, "but it seems as though there is someone who in her heart is... intrigued by the dark."

She nodded her head to where a pilot-dressed female was sitting with a male, sharing an ale together and talking quietly. A sense of the Force radiated from the male which even Illa could feel; she quietly removed her hand from Allaria and placed it on the hilt of her sword.

"Tell me what you sense, sister," she whispered in an even quieter voice. "Perhaps here we may indeed find a bit of refreshment...."

She then whispered. "the woman, Once knew a jedi of sorts... One she was actauly quite fond of... And as for the man... He is a jedi, That found a need to escape the jedi order..."

She suddenly found the need to resist a slight giggle as she realized that with but the bat of one of her long, and teasing eyelashes, her and her sister could destroy all of the worthless creatures in this pathetic building...

Her eyes drifted accross crowd with little more then a passing interest, pulling herself slightly closer to her sister as she noted that most of the beings here were filthy, and disguisting...

Her gaze finaly fell upon the bar, and she smiled a funny little smile as she reached into the mind of the bar tender...

Soon they were approuched, to drinks in the hand of the being, of which allaria took one, and sipped lightly on a sweet and delicious beverage...

She looked at her sister and smiled "Something to drink my sister?"

Then IllaAnda let her sister seat them. She smiled across the table into her sister's glacial eyes, her own turquoise ones wide and innocent as a summer's day, and with her free hand moved the edge of her long and concealing cloak out of the way in case Skemmdarvargur should be called into battle.

Her lips curled sensuously, and she batted those brilliantly innocuous-seeming turquoise orbs. She raised the glass in her graceful hand in toast to Allaria.

"An impeccable choice, my dear," she breathed, taking another sip of the heady liquid. But even as she spoke her eyes slid from her sister's face and locked themselves on the form of the jedi. In this attitude, knowing full well her true nature was stealthily hidden from anything so mere as a Force user, she allowed herself to just sit there, radiating beauty and mystery and a quiet kind of misleading strength...

The Coruscant native began to worry that her force-user friend might decide to leave without taking further notice. She ticked off pros and cons and debated the "worst thing that could happen" in her analytical mind, then went for it.

Casually she walked to the mystery man's table and said, "It's getting a little rough at the bar, mind if I join you?", hoping she didn't sound like she wanted more than just conversation. Hoping he could sense business was on her mind.

After all... She dearly LOVED her sister, and would do anything if meant making her dear sibbling happy... And so she decided to lend a hand to her sisters passing glances...

She reached out quietly into the jedi's mind, placing a small idea there, as though it were forged from his own thought proccess, leaving no traces she had ever even held a passing thought at doing such a thing...

and with her will, she knew there was one thought now striving to gain attention in the jedi's mind...

Why not go sit with the laddies over at the side table? they seem like a nice duo

She smiled to herself and took a small sip of her drink, casting her gaze over upon the woman whom sat with the jedi...

Except for the female who yet sat with the male....

Now Illa nodded, leaning over to whisper into Allaria's ear.

"That one has some wit about her," she breathed so quietly that none other could hear her. "The male is certainly acting a regular dullard; but the female...."

She broke off, straightening up with a brightly sincere smile, and cocking her head raised her glass. The brilliant turquoise gaze she too sent out to the female in the pilot's suit was even more open and honest and friendly and guileless, offering a silent invitation which read how lonely she and her sister were, having just arrived on this dusty backwater of a planet, not knowing anybody, they could use a friend...

You my dear certainly look as if you could be that friend to us....

Her smile broadened, showing the mere glimpse of gleaming white teeth, as she maintained that look...

...but one quite thoroughly laced, unbeknownst to any sentient mortal, with more than a little demonic influence, one enough to both carry its weight as well as hide her true intent from mere beings and Force-users alike, thus utterly assuring its success.

Shawn stopped at the the fringe of a sand dune, gazing out upon the main area of Mos Eisley. The spaceport bustled with life; ships docking and leaving the planet, merchants wheeling and dealing, people crossing paths with friends and complete strangers.

Not exactly the place you'd wanna take a seven-year old Jedi student, but Shawn really did feel it was important to find Loban, and seeing the galaxy would be good to foster Thea's awareness of different species and varying locations.

He squatted to be down on Thea’s level, uncertain as to if she had ever been to Tatooine in her short life-span. “This Tatooine, a planet controlled mostly by Hutts and gangsters. It’s a rough place, and people of many species and races tend to gather here to trade, gamble, or just to get lost. We are now in Mos Eisley spaceport,” he explained. “It’s one of the most well-known spaceports not only on Tatooine, but also in the galaxy. It also seems to be one of the more notorious ones; we can’t be certain of anything we see or hear while we are here, which may be for some time, and then it may not. Do you sense our friend Loban at all here?” he asked, knowing full well this would be a rather difficult task in such a bustling and widespread location. At any rate, even if Loban could be sensed here, it would take some gathering of information to find his exactly location, Force-essence on planet or not.

Shawn waited to see what Thea would have to say.

"N-No, I don't mind at..at...all." he replied, nervously. This was one of the moments he wished he wasn't a Jedi, even though he sensed that she meant business.

"M-may I ask..." he coughed a little bit. "W-Why you bought me that d-drink?"

Maybe I should've stayed and died on Kessel instead of making an idiot of myself here...

Jazelle Corona...that was her name. He 'recognized' her from the Force even though he has not used it in anyway...a power he thought he had lost on Yavin IV.

Why not go sit with the ladies at the side table? They seem like a nice duo...

The thought appeared out of nowhere inside his mind, and suddenly he straightened his back as if he to stand up...

He looked behind him at the two women, and smiled. He didn't know them before, but he felt the urge to and meet them...

"Excuse me..." he said to Jaz, by then already walking away.

"This Tatooine, a planet controlled mostly by Hutts and gangsters. It’s a rough place, and people of many species and races tend to gather here to trade, gamble, or just to get lost. We are now in Mos Eisley spaceport,” he explained. “It’s one of the most well-known spaceports not only on Tatooine, but also in the galaxy. It also seems to be one of the more notorious ones; we can’t be certain of anything we see or hear while we are here, which may be for some time, and then it may not. Do you sense our friend Loban at all here?”

Thea looked up at her master, "I have been here before but father always said it was too dangerous so mom and I stayed on the ship. But Loban..." She closed her eyes and concentrated for a moment, searching with her mind for a familiar Force touch. After a while she opened her eyes and shook her head, "No I can't find him. I'm sorry master."

Shawn then closed his eyes as well, stretching out with the Force to ever-so-gently touch Thea's mind to assist in filtering all the things of the living-Force bombarding her senses here in this crowded spaceport. Not opening his eyes, he waited once more in quiet patience, whispering into Thea's mind as a reminder:

Remember all the times you were around Loban; remember his Force-presence, let your memory and your instincts guide you. Stay open to everything that is around you, yet allow the one you are remembering even now to come to the forefront of your Force-awareness.

Then you will have found the Force-signature of he whom you seek.

The ladies at the table seemed friendly enough. She didn't know what his interest in them was, but she feared she might lose her chance to ask if he could help her. She had, after all, invested in buying him a drink... not a big expense, but the emotional investment bugged her, since she didn't buy guys drinks very often. If his interest in these two was of a non-business nature, she'd yield, feeling inadequate to compete on that level. But if it was business... she had him first!

Jaz grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him back a step, leaning to his ear.

"Wait," she whispered. Not quite sure if it was her assertiveness or the shots talking, she added, "Let's just leave. I'll tell you why I bought that drink when we get outside. Maybe you'll tell me your name. Maybe you'll be willing to help a lady down on her luck."

In reality, the hand was effectively hiding the grin which curled in response to the stab of possessiveness she felt arrowing from the woman who even now was trying to stop the man from coming her way. Her lowered lids masked the direction of her own eyes, which now cut to her sister.

"It appears we would have a contender for this one, Allaria," she barely breathed. Then completely eliminating any wayward expressions from both her features and demeanor, she raised her head again, and sent one great eye-batting glance at the Jedi. Her turquoise eyes glinted with just the hint of tears, and she let out a sigh, her former smile dimming and beginning to tremble a little as she now raised her drink to her lips as though to find surcease from some great and unknown sorrow in its depths.

"Yeah a lady down on her luck..." he said, seeing the disappointment in one of the ladies' faces.

But as he stared at the pair, Paul could sense a strange familiarity...as if he knew them somehow.

But that's impossible he thought. I have never met them before in my life...and yet I'm drawn towards...

He broke his eyes away from them, and looked at Jaz. "Y-yes...we s-should g-go..." he said, but his stuttering was not from him being nervous; he found it hard to speak the words he wanted to say.

"Ah, sorry." he said again, pulling his arm away from her, his voice now more calm. "But I have some...business...to discuss with them."

What?! That's not what I wanted to...ah, I must be drunk. What's wrong with me? Of course I want to meet them...

Paul smiled again, but there was a hint of reluctance in it...and uncertainty. The Jedi turned around and continued approaching the table.

Strange. I feel like I'm almost afriad of them.

Unconciously, (maybe...the Force?) Paul's hand went inside his robe and gripped the blaster...

Force user or no, she decided perhaps she'd misjudged him, thinking him wise. Perhaps she was losing her touch at profiling.

She followed him again as he reached the table where the two sultry females waited. "If you change your mind," she whispered somewhat annoyed, and handed him a card. On it was the bay number where her cruiser was docked, bay AK356, awaiting necessary repairs to lift off. "I'll be there another 24," she announced, trying to keep her voice from wavering in disappointment. Turning on her heel, her shoulder-length hair tossed on his cheek and she headed for the door.
Why is this bothering me so much? He's just a stupid guy, and there's plenty more people on this rock I could seek out.

But at the moment, she just wanted to get some fresh air and maybe another shot of Corellian Whiskey. She stopped at the bar to order the drink, hoping it wouldn't take too long.
Dammit Striker... what did you do to me?

She let a pregnant moment swell between them, and somehow in that moment the noise and banter and smoke and cries of the cantina fell away before a strange communing connection, which came from nowhere to accrete them together in a solid connection that ignored all others. Then the noises returned with a rush, and she blinked slowly.

"Hi," the word rolled musically from her throat, born upon the rich alto of her voice. It carried just the correct amount of tremolo; swallowing heavily, IllaAnda allowed the single word to choke to a stop, as though sticking in her throat and thus preventing others from following.

A single tear trickled down her cheek, and she dropped her head, her vision sweeping down the jedi's form and stopping as though drawn there where his hand was toying about the butt of his blaster. True, IllaAnda couldn't actually see it hovering there, nor could she forcefully sense it. But it didn't take a Force user, nor a rocket scientist, to clearly see the incongruity of the situation.

A man coming to the apparent aid of a lady in distress comes with his hands bared in hopeful support and friendship, not hidden beneath a concealing cloak. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence knew that, as would any warrior....

She sighed, pushed her drink away and sat back. Raising her eyes to Paul's, she nodded her head toward that portion of his anatomy where a hovering hand would be playing with a concealed weapon.

"You might just as well draw that and kill me now," she breathed in a mournful tone of voice. "Whatever it is. Then perhaps you'd better attend to your lady friend; she has left your table, and thus perhaps, you."

She fell silent then, swallowing heavily yet again, and let her eyes freely fill with tears. Her full and sensuous bottom lip began to tremble....

She slammed her shot glass on the bar as if to shatter it, but it held it's form without cracking. Scanning the crowd with eyes like the Corellian sky at midnight, Jaz searched for other prospects that might need some information gathering or transport. Everyone looked seedy and not in a hurry to leave the cantina so early.

Suddenly large, strong, greenish hands grabbed both her upper arms just below the shoulers, their owner a Rodian standing behind her. He began to drag her from her place at the bar. "You have an appointment with Grakko," he insisted.

Jaz resisted, shrugging his hands off and turning to face the creature. "What does he want? I thought our agreement was settled. I thought I had a week to repay!"

"That was before the mech-droid installing your new hyperdrive generator let him know you didn't have any cargo in that ship to deal with, thus no contraband to bargain and pay for the parts. Grakko thinks you were just going to skip out on his deal."

it took all her will power to keep herself from emmiting a mixture of laughter, and sorrowfull morning at her own bordom...

She slowly turned pleading eyes upon the man, and speaking in little more then a whimper pleaded with him. "p-please! Dont hurt my sister! you have to help her... She's... She's been through a lot... She needs a good friend... Someone to talk to! Please! thats all i ask... Is that to much?"

her hand reached slowly out to take hold of his robes, now standing up and wrapping her arms about him. "p-pl-EASE! J...ju-s-st a little conversation! Sh... She's been through so much..."

She then sat down slowly, looking as though through the entire room, voice suddenly Hollow... "No one deserves what has happened to her...No one deserves... To be.. Alone..."

Her now blank and hollow eyes looked upward into pauls. "Please... Just for a little while... Give her something to live for... I beg of you..."

As she spoke she noted the strange scene happening over with that other woman... Her eyes darted for a split second to paul, before unconciously she reached out into the rodians mind, planting a small idea in his head.

I need to lay off the drinks, this isnt the right woman, She's clearly just some lady who i dont need to bother...

Allaria then reached into the ladies mind and implanet yet another small idea with the force

Why have i stopped? I need to hurey and get to my ship, who knows what those morons are doing to it!

"Your-- your friend needs help more so than I," Illa now whispered, swallowing even as she rose to her feet. Her long velvety black cloak fell gracefully about her, shrouding both her body and Skemmdarvargur from view. The fact that trouble was indeed brewing behind was registering to the whirling jedi even as Illa stepped out from her table and swiftly closed the distance between her and the Rodian.

As she came up the Rodian suddenly paused, letting his hand drop from the woman's collar. She and the almond-eyed alien exchanged glances of what could almost be construed as mutual surprise; then the Rodian let out a disgusted snort, turned, and departed.

Illa came up to Jaz, placing a friendly hand about her shoulders, tilting her head to send her turquoise gaze directly into her blue eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly, even as she led her back to where she had been at the bar. Her empty shot glass still sat where she had placed it; Illa gave Jaz one last searching look before she reached out to that glass, the movement masked from all behind her by her body.

Her slender fist closed about the glass, and crunched it into tiny shards which she allowed to fall to the countertop. A quick flick of her fingers sent the tiny pieces flying to disappear behind the bar, unnoticed by all but her and Jaz. Indeed no one else bothered to look, so jaded were the clientele of this place. She directed a final and slightly more intense gaze into Jaz's face, letting her lips curl in a very slight smile.

"I'm glad he didn't hurt you," she whispered.

Then she let her arm drop, turned, and returned to her table.

"She-- she is fine," she whispered, seating herself gracefully, still cunningly hiding her sword, "and my sister has a tendency toward melodrama. But--"

She sighed, taking another sip of her drink. Then she arrowed her eyes into Paul's again, and allowed them to slowly drift back to their former look of haunting sorrow.

"You have done very well. But now that we know Loban is here, we must gather clues to determine his exact whereabouts, since he does seem rather distant as you have pointed out" Shawn agreed. "And as much as I hate to say it, I think our friend Loban may need yet more time at home before he returns with us, although this is of course is ultimately up to him. The important thing at the moment is that we put forth the effort."

He stood then, taking Thea by the hand. "But for the moment I think now is a good time to get a bite to eat. Hard work burns lots of energy," he added, grinning. Then without further ado they headed towards the main strip on Mos Eisley.

He slid a chair out from a nearby empty table and sat in it, facing the 'sister' with sorrow in her eyes.

"Ah...my name is Paul Arrakeen. What is yours, and that of your sister's?" he said. He failed to notice that his stammering had ceased as he spoke.

The blonde's head began swimming and she realized she had too much to drink in too short a time. Her tolerance for Corellian Whiskey wasn't what it once was. She watched the woman return to the mystery man, who never seemed to notice the altercation with the Rodian at the bar. Odd... she thought. He must not be a real force-user then, to let such a detail miss him.

Shawn paused mentally for a moment as he realized he was being protective of his young student. He grinned, glancing down at Thea for a moment as they continued to walk onward when, out of the corner of his Jedi-senses, someone in seeming distress grabbed his attention. A dark blonde haired woman, dressed in a pilot's suit, was heading out of the Mos Eisley cantina at a mad pace when she seemed to lose her footing and her senses. Her blue eyes clouded and she went limp, beginning to fall forward.

Shawn couldn't prevent the envitable fall. But he hurried to the woman's side, Thea running triple time to keep up with him. Once he reached her he squatted, keeping Thea close while turning the woman over. She was out cold, but not injured. What she was, however, was drunk.

Shawn frowned. Would be better to let this one suffer the consequences of getting drunk rather than heal her. Maybe next time she'll think about it...

Even so, Shawn figured he should at least wake this person so she could get to a local hotel or something to rest and recuperate from the enivitable hangover she was going to have. So he reached out with the Force, gently nudging her mind to consciousness with his own. At length her blue eyes slowly opened, looking directly into his greeny blues.

Shawn wondered how many versions of he and his young student she was seeing at this moment.

"I'm Jedi Shawn Petrolu," he said to her quietly, as if anything louder might be nothing more than yelling to her dulled senses, "You seem to have had one too many to drink, my friend. Can I get you to a hotel or your ship, Ms...?"

Her hand crept slowly outward, and was set down gentle, upon the one hand that was not within his cloak, as if to assure him that she truly appriciated his kind heart.

Her eyes slowly came upon her sister, whom simply sat, as if trying to decide if she were significant enough to even have a name to give...

Her pleading gaze came again to the jedi. "I am Allaria Renrical, my sister is called IllaAnda Renrical... Thank you so much for your time Mr. Arrakeen, its... its just so wonderful to see that at least a few beings in this retched universe still hold the compassion to give to a poor woman whom has suffered so much..."

Her hand remained upon his for but a moment longer, before slowly she pulled her hands to herself once more, looking down at her own drink, as if wondering if that liquid could help her get through her own pain at seeing her sister in such a saddened state...

"She is so strong," she breathed barely above a whisper. "She's the only thing that has kept--"

Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she cut off the statement with a nearly audible snap, pausing a moment as though in painful reflection before going on in a rush.

"We were-- our father..." she began, then sniffed loudly and drew herself under apparent control.

"There is a Hutt here... his name is Grakko."

Pause. Another quick if tearful glance toward Allaria, who nodded imperceptibly, as if urging her gently onward. She continued.

"There was some... some spice, all these Hutts can think of is spice... and my father... my father, Grakko set him up, he-- he killed him and then possessed our humble home here, and took me and-- and--"

Once again she paused, her eyes once more growing moist, her breast heaving in great gulping sobs.

"He-- he made me... do things... terrible things. If it hadn't been for Allaria..."

Another cut-off. Another grateful glance cast upon her sister, her lips trembling even more. Then she slumped back in her seat.

"But-- but now we are homeless, we have nothing, we can scarcely show our faces... we have to get off this wretched rock, but we just don't know anybody; I mean, anyone who knows us would turn us over to that slimey gangster as soon as look at us, he's probably got a bounty out on us, and I just don't know what we're going to do!"

She paused a final time, swallowing heavily, fighting with herself to keep from breaking down entirely. Then, her voice pleading, she forced herself to continue.

"Can--can you help us? Can you take us away from here? Just anywhere, anywhere that is away from this horrible planet... we can help, we can pull our own weight, we won't be a bother, will we, Allaria?"

She fell into a final silence, turning to look her sister square in the eyes.

"C-Corona, Jazelle. Thank you... I-I need to get to my ship, yes." She tried to smile despite her feeling sick. Then she noticed the beautiful little girl standing beside him and felt embarrassed that a child had to see a grown adult act so irresponsibly. Then again, this was Mos Eisley... not the best place for children.

"Dock... A... something... 356? Yes, I think... AK356, that's where my ship is. But I'm OK, really." Jaz began to push away from the Jedi and stand on her own, teetering a bit, but managing. The man seemed kind and willing to help, but Jaz thought she'd had enough of force-users for one day, or at least until she sobered up a little. And there was Grakko to worry about...

I thought Grakko only had Ruuka running the spice shipments.

She blinked soulfully at Paul.

"Take us with you, would you please?" she begged, now reaching a hand out to him almost in supplication. "Let us come with you, wherever it is you are going. Perhaps--"

She cut herself off all of a sudden, pulling back her hand and straightening in her seat, her eyes widening as if being struck by a thought brand-new to her, but one somehow intriguing and altogether too enticing. She let a bit of her warrior's essence flash through her eyes; in fact, it was all she could do to keep it from gaining the upper hand. So she struggled momentarily, looking for all the universe as if she was struggling with an idea that had wormed through nothing but the pure innocence she otherwise portrayed, to beckon her with its evil suggestion.

"Perhaps we can come up with a means of-- of making certain Grakko pays his dues. He owes us...."

Feeling suddenly better, Jaz turned to peer into Shawn's greenish-blue eyes that were too kind for a hostile planet like Tattooine. At that moment, she decided accepting his offer was wise after all. "Thank you, Master Jedi. It's an honor to have your help."

Approaching her ship, Jaz saw the Rodian and a few other thugs standing about, interrogating the tech-droid further. "Um... I have a problem right now," she admitted and pulled his sleeve to stop his steps. She gazed at him and blinked a few times, as if to draw his attention to probe her and verify she was telling him the truth. "I was robbed on the outskirts of the system by pirates, who took my hyperdrive generator and everything else of value I had. I had no choice but to land here and try to find parts to get me back to the Core. Trouble is, the only one willing to credit me for a generator was a Hutt named Drakko." She paused to point at the hench-beings. "Those guys searched my ship and found out I have no cargo, which means no way to earn money to pay Drakko back like I promised. He gave me a week initially, but the droid squealed and now the Hutt thinks I'm going to make a run for it."

"I realize the Hutts aren't the most pleasant beings to deal with, especially not when you owe them money. My suggestion to you would be to get a job here and pay the Hutt what you owe him, and then some. Hutts are slimy but they are highly interested in bargaining when it'll end them up with more than they started out with."

At that he quieted, waiting to see what the woman might say or do next.

She smiled sweetly as if to mock the poor fool, then felt like a heel. The guy was sweet, just trying to be helpful, honest, all the things a good Jedi should be.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm a little frustrated being stuck here, and that Rodian over there is waiting for his chance to bring me in front of Grakko who'll do Maker knows what to me. At this point he's not into negotiating or waiting for me to get a job and pay him off. I realize he wants money rather than to kill me... scratch that... he wants money and then kill me, but I don't plan to give him either."

Jaz walked away from him and stormed straight for the Rodian and his pals, grumbling, "Damn it all, I have to do this myself!" She pulled her three-barreled blaster from it's thigh holster and leveled a direct hit to the Rodian's chest, and it wasn't set to stun. The creature fell backward, chest smoking, and the others moved to fire back at Jaz.
Come on... make my day you scum. She didn't see killing the Rodian as murder, but self-preservation. It was going to be him or her, and if not for the crazy witch at the bar, it would've been HER already.

The other sidekicks hesitated and started to back away when they saw the Jedi standing behind her.

Jaz smiled to herself. Well, well... force-boy's good for something.

He'd brought her to consciousness back near the cantina. He DIDN'T recall taking care of the effects of her over-imbibing, however.

Shawn tensed the barest of fractions as he sensed the other's unease at his presence, sensing something else entirely from Jazelle. The smugness in her face read Yes, I have a Jedi with me. So what are you gonna do about it?

Shawn's usually calm countanance was marred by a momentary frown. He was a Jedi. Not a pawn to be used to make someone look threatening.

If you are planning on getting out of this, Shawn spoke into her brain so as to bypass the ogling riff-raff in front of her ship, You will not be using THIS particular Jedi to find the easy way out.

With that he turned on his heel, keeping Thea's face somewhat buried in his shoulder as he did so, sincerely hoping she wouldn't see any more gore than she had already.

Her mind reached out untill she viewed the seen perfectly through the the eyes... of someone... Ah yes, the female...

she almost let lose and smiled just then, but thank goodness for her great willpower, for she indeed would have been a dead give away for this jedi...

She looked to Paul for a moment, and then to her sister "Im afraid i require a bit of fresh air... My head achs have returned dear sister... Curse this planet..."

She stood slowly and nodded to paul "Please excuse me..."

He hand then came to lie gently upon her temple as she walked away, clearly in distress...

As she stepped through the door her falsness slowly came from her as though some fake skin she had worn durring her conversation, her pupils, once the typical black of human eyes, now shone true the demonic blood within, churning within the confines of her glacial eyes...

She stormed down the streets, her smile dark and sweet... that female wished to see death... Oh indeed allaria, you will show her dead...

She smiled to herself before suddenly stopping, casting her baleful gaze upon an unfortunat being whom had been stupid enough to stare at her in her blissful state...

her gaze suddenly softened, and she approuched the man in a slow manor, smiling sweetly at him. bringing a hand to lay gently upon his cheek "something cought her eye?" she whispered to him softly, leaning forward to bestow upon him a kiss... but in that moment, the poor fool knew pain like never before, allaria reached into his mind and simply froze it in one instant, he would relive the torment of ages for all eternity...

as she walked away the man slummped against a wall, to far gone to even grone at the pain he was feeling...

SHe smiled sweetly to herself once more

As she walked she reached out again into the womans mind, speaking directly. "Death is an ally you must now search and find my dear..."

as she did so she scowered freely through the memories the woman possessed, no longer worried about stealth in her mind, she shred many things to pieces in fact...

"The jedi with you is worthless, leave him now... No, better yet, Hurt him... Shove his kindness back into his face with a heartless vigor... I emplore you... Give into your true desires..."

SHe smiled as she rounded a corner to see the woman clutching her head as though fire raged within... For no mere... Mortal, could withstand her true voice... Insanity was a gift compared to that strange sound...

She then stopped dead in her tracks, she was still well hidden from view, but easily could she now see the jedi... And the child...

She could barely keep herself from emmiting a growl like a stalking cat... A child!

She sneared within the shadows... Innocents that could not be purged... Disgusting...

and at that moment, the skin of innocents which she before shed so willingly, came back about her form in undying splender... her eyes settling so that mortals might not expect anythign, all darkness fading before the glory that was her unending pureness of spirit...

She came about the corner then and approuched the jedi with a small smile.

"Errrr.... Hello... I ... I saw your child... AH... Heh... you were outside the cantina a moment ago right? heh, Im sorry, i just... I get worried about the little kids sometimes... She looks a bit hungry... Ah, Would you like to join me for dinner? I would hate to see either of you starve... Ah... Oh!" she smiled and laughed lightly "im sorry, My name is Allaria, heh, silly me, i seem to forget these sometimes..."

she smiled at the little girl and leaned down, cupping the childs chin in her delicute hand "hello there, what is your name?"

Either way, she wasn't going down without a fight. She'd fought with worse odds, but it wasn't going to be easy. Now she felt her nausea returning.

Before one of them could take a shot, Jaz rolled on the ground and skidded for cover behind a cargo crate. She cursed herself for not having any detonators, but the pirates had taken all of her private stock. Looking around the tarmac, she saw a speeder bike parked 50 meters away. 50 meters in the line of fire. 50 meters to run when she wasn't in her best condition.

Still, she went for it, as if nothing to lose. A spray of blue bolts whizzed past her and miraculously missed. Assassins they were not, she decided. Jumping on the bike, she silently praised the Maker for the security system not set and punched the starter.

The bike sprang to life, but only for a second or two, then sputtered out. She tried again... nothing. Now she really felt sick, and started heaving. The shots stopped and the goons were running toward her, laughing. Taking aim at the nearest, Jaz's shot was cut short by a stun blast to her same shoulder, throwing the blaster from her grip and throwing Jaz completely off the bike.

He smiled at the woman who had identified herself as Allaria. "I'm Jedi Shawn Petrolu, and this is my student Thea," he said. "If you could lead us in the direction of an eating place with a light atmosphere, we'd be most appreciative..."

He then waited to see what Allaria might say or do in response.

I have looked away from things Grakko has done...terrible things. For me to act against him would make me somewhat of a hypocrite.

He stared down at the table.

And even if I were to find a way to get off this rock, I'll be heading towards a warzone. Paul sighed, torn between thoughts.

Will it be worth it?

He looked up into IllaAnda's eyes, and saw how much she had been harmed...or was it how much harm she could cause?

The Jedi sat back, pulling his hand away.

"I know of away to....take care of Grakko...and find transportation off Tattooine." he said. "The Hutt has problems with the local Imperial garrison. If we were to, ah, tell them what kind of a slug he is, they'll arrest him and possibly give us a free ticket for the next ship heading out."

She smiled, and took a step back, blushing slighty as she realized how pressing she must have seemed "It is a great honor to meet you both... And yes, i know just the place to get a bite to eat..."

She smiled even more brightly and ushered them off down the road, as she did so her mind reached out stealthily to the minds of the local beings here, finding directions to someplace...quiet.

She led them into a little building, one with dimmed lights, and a quiet atmosphere... it was perhaps even dignified... Or as close to a dignified resturant as one can find upon tatooine...

Now she reached out to the waiter, emplacing a few idea's and random thoughts within the week minded fool...

The man suddenly smiled "AH! Allaria, Welcom, welcom, will these two be eating with you today?"

Allaria simply nodded and smiled over to shawn and thea, leading them to a little booth off in a secluded corner, sitting down she looked at thea with a smile "Well then, What would you like? im sure they would be most please to give you anything your heart desired..."

her eyes then came slowly to turn into those of shawns. "Indeed, you may have anything you want... Its on me tonight... I hope i didnt come off a bit... Odd, earlier, but i... I just... well..."

She sighed and looked away for a moment, before bringing her eyes upon shawns greeny-blue pair once more... They seemed so soft and kind...

"Wake up, sleepy-head," the girl breathed in a sing-song voice. Master's waiting to talk with you, but first, take a sip of this... it will make you feel better."

The Twi'lek held a goblet up to Jaz's lips, but she turned away. Her groggy head was resting on a satin pillow and she realized she was lying on a sleep-couch. There were other Twi'leks in the room of varying colors, all dressed in revealing shimmersilk outfits.

Jaz sat up and pushed the goblet away. "Where am I?"

The blue one smiled. "You were summoned... don't you remember?"

The human woman raked her fingers through her blonde hair and looking down, realized she was wearing a shimmersilk as well, with more coverage but still feminine and somewhat see-through.The Hutt... Grakko... his harem! "There's some mistake. I owe him money and I assume he wants me dead. But if he thinks..."

"Relax," the Twi'lek smiled. "He only wants you more comfortable. Please, drink this. You've been intoxicated and ill, this helps." To show Jaz the drink was not poison, the Twi'lek placed the glass seductively to her lips and took a large, slow sip.

Again the blue one moved the glass to Jaz's parched lips, and the human reluctantly drank. The concoction was sweet and immediately soothed her. After the last drop disappeared down her throat, the consort took Jaz's hand. "Come... Master will see you now."

Jaz didn't want to follow, but she was now unarmed and in no position to resist. She was led to a large sitting room that doubled as an office, where the Hutt was seated on a large throne-like chair. The Twi'lek bowed and quickly left, closing the large door behind her.

"Hehehe," the Hutt laughed deeply. "So... you can clean up well, human. That's good. You may be able to complete the job I have for you and spare your life."

Jaz gulped, stealthily scanning the room for a possible way out.

"The money was one matter, now you've killed one of my best bodyguards. You owe me a debt. A life for a life."If you're gonna kill me, get it over with! she shouted in her head.

"You were with a man today, at the cantina. A Jedi."At the cantina? A Jedi? The mystery man was actually a Jedi? She tried not to show surprise. "Only briefly. I didn't even catch his name. He was interested in something else other than talking to me."

The Hutt grinned. "His name is Paul Arrakeen. He performs jobs for me, with his Jedi skills. His usefulness has expired, and after his last job recovering my spice, he'll be a marked man."

Jaz wondered what all this had to do with her. She wasn't an assassin, not officially. The Rodian's death was an outburst of desperation and the desire to rid the galaxy of one more scumbag, who probably killed dozens of innocent beings.

"I prefer to have him suffer slowly and for my sport. All I ask of you is to befriend him, make him trust you, keep an eye on him so he doesn't run. Then lead him to me."

"No," Jaz refused, taking no time at all to respond. "I don't track Jedi. I'm not a force-user... they can see right through a tail. Besides," she sighed, "he was much more interested in the two beauties at the cantina."

"Two beauties?" the Hutt asked, his interest suddenly piqued. "Who were they, what did they look like?"

IllaAnda let the word ooze from between her full lips as if it were something rare and magnificent... and very, very deadly. The hand which had been holding Paul's rose up to finger her lips as a combination of something some beings would call close to fear rose up in her eyes to war with something... other. She let a single shudder ripple gracefully through her body, then sat back in her seat.

"They would more than better any small plot my simple brain could devise." Now she let a smile push away the look of fear and trepidation, and poured a grateful look upon Paul.

"Thank you, Paul Arakeen," she whispered softly. "Allaria and I will do anything... anything at all... not to just get transport off this wretched rock but to see that Grakko pays fully for what he did to-- for what he-- he forced me--"

Her head dropped a moment to the table, and her hands fisted together, fingers tightening until her knuckles were white. But when she raised her head, she was completely under control once again. Still maintaining that grateful aura, she rose smoothly to her feet, allowing the cloak to come about her and surround her dark beauty with its even darker folds.

"I'm ready to go when you are. Perhaps we shall run into Allaria outside; she gets these headaches, poor dear; I'm sure it's because of the dreadfully bright sun this blotch of hell possesses.

"We are not from this place, originally...."

She spoke the latter as she began stepping forward, heading for the door, turning her head now to see if Paul was following her or not. Then she brought herself to a halt, an embarrassed look playing about her features.

"I- I'm sorry, Paul. I have just been alone for so long... so very long; please forgive me if I seem a bit impestuous."

With that she waited quietly, her hands folded in front of her, to see if Paul was following, would take the lead...

...or would depart this cantina as a gentleman would with a lady.

His greeny-blue eyes never left those of the female as he waited to see what she might reply.

"So... I don't think I'll be able to convince Mr. Arrakeen to follow me."

The Hutt nodded and stood from his chair, pacing before her, leaving a trail of slime where his tail dragged on the tile floor.
"You have something else he wants. A ship, a way off the planet."

"Perhaps, if I ever got the chance to offer a ride."

"I have a better idea," he laughed, amused by his own cleverness. "It will require a different type of disguise, but the background check I ran said you worked for Corellia's most notorious and mysterious private investigator. Fake ID, the right blaster... yes... the sort of job you are looking for, hmm?"

Jaz glared at him suspiciously. Working for a Hutt wasn't much better than working for the Imps, but it was work and allowed her to pay off her debt to him without making any compensations of a physical nature. Tangling with a Jedi would be tricky, but the least she could do was hear his plan. In some ways, it might feel good to pull one over on a force-user, turn the tables... a little private justice.

"Im afriad i do not know... "

She stop then and looked blankly past them all as if considering something...

Oh indeed... They could repay you... Take the child... what greater joy... Corrupt her...

her eyes again took in the scene before her... She knew that such a thing would not happen... That child, in her weak, and foolish inoccents, remains bonded to the jedi...

"i-If you wish to repay me... Then perhaps you could remember me? I fear i might not have much time left in this universe... It would be nice to know that someone remembered me..."

She then sighed and looked down at a glass of water that had been placed before her...

"it is a shame... I dreamed so much of having a child... I supose that dream will never unfold for me..."

again she released a gentle breath. "it doesnt matter i supose... Some are just not meant to be..."

slowly she lifted her glass, and took a drink of it, and as she set her drink down she looked up at shawn, eyes full of tears. "Im... Im sorry, I shouldnt be here... Please... Enjoy your... En... Enjoy your meal... I have to go!"

With that she stood and rushed away, stopping only a moment, as though she were paying for what they had ordered, then she ran out the door...

As she passed down the streets, she almost laughed...

A jedi... She was not to sure, but she had a feeling this one would be saddened for some time over her troubles...

Soon she approuched the place she had left her sister, and with a deep breath returned inside to take a seat with them once more...

Dying?

He looked at little Thea, who was now eating yet still very alert to what was occuring. He patted her on the shoulder in reassurance, then pursed his lips in thought.

He was a Jedi healer. Perhaps he could have been of assistance to her had she not left, but clearly her heart was very heavy.

Shawn made a mental note to look into this soon. But, since he also had the time, perhaps there was someone here that could point him in the direction of Loban's residence...

"Ahh, this one appears to harbor some... potential within her, my dear sister," she purred to Allaria in her mind, unable to actually send the thought, but knowing her sister's dark force abilities would clearly pick it up.

"Perhaps later...."

Then she appeared to straighten somewhat, and took a quick step back to stand beside Paul. She twined her arms through his, sending a silent message that the pair of them were somehow...

Immutable.

"Excuse me," she spoke up at length in her rich alto, snuggling against Paul's side even more closely. "But I do not believe it a crime to be 'seen' with a Hutt. They-- they seem to have their fingers in many aspects of this planet, from the slave quarters to the pod races; Paul--"

She let her voice momentarily trail off as in one slow motion she turned her head from Allaria, to Paul, and finally to the apparent Imperial. She let her turquoise eyes find a home in the blue pair before her.

"--has done nothing wrong. He did go to a Hutt by the name of Grakko on our behalf, and other than that he has been with my sister and I since arriving here. We can vouch for that, can't we, Allaria?"

Another brief cutting glance to her sister's glacial eyes and she fell silent, the very picture of open honesty and sincerity. Yet there was just the slightest hint of... something about her aspect which struggled to belie that innocence, something which deep down inside her was beginning to slaver and reach out and pant....

Not knowing what these strange women really wanted from the Jedi, and not caring... much... Jaz cleared her throat and forced a cool smile.

"I don't recall saying that Mr. Arrakeen here is under arrest. I merely wish to speak with him concerning information he has about the Hutt name Grakko. It does not," she stood an inch taller in her boots, "concern you. However, if you have a statement you'd like to make against the Hutt, I'll hear it after my conference with your... friend here." She gazed again at Paul, wondering if he recognized her, if this time he might respond.

"Well, Mr. Arrakeen? I came alone, no more armed than you are. Shall we have a quick chat? I won't take up too much of your time. I can see you are... busy."

The barest tip of a gleaming white canine peeped out from Illa's sensuous mouth as she let her upper lip curl, just a little.

"How odd..." she began in a soft voice, almost as if thinking aloud. She squeezed Paul's arm, and then untwined herself from it to stand fully erect beside him and somehow... ready.

"How odd," she repeated. "that a major should be undertaking the affairs of her underlings. It is not usual that the high and mighty come down to the level of those they normally send after their... vic-- ahh, that is, send after those with whom they wish to... discuss matters.

"Or at least that is what I have come to... understand."

She fell silent for a moment, and simply faced off against the supposed Imperial, a look beginning to spawn in the depths of her eyes which stated, You are not fooling anybody but yourself, and shot directly into Jaz's eyes.

Refusing to lighten her stance she remained thus, and waited to see if the Jedi would also fall for the rather simple ruse being played out before them.

And hidden deeply within the soft folds her her cloak, unnoticed by all, Skemmdarvargur seemed to twitch as if in anticipation....

But Loban was a healthy Jedi Padawan, currently residing in his home. He WASN'T a dying woman, possibly in need of a little support, if not perhaps something more than that.

Shawn made up his mind at that moment, taking his own last bites of dinner then standing and directing Thea outside once again...

...and directly back towards the cantina where he had aided the drunk woman not so long ago. He needed to find out anything he could about Allaria, and perhaps the cantina might be a good start, not to mention a very good place for Thea to see and possibly interact with some others. She was, after all, nearly eight years old and a Jedi student; it really was not too early for her to begin learning a bit more about the shadier side of life. Besides, to assume everyone on planet was shady or untrustworthy was a grave error; it again lead one to judge the cover of the book rather than what was inside.

Shawn pursed his lips at that thought, considered for a moment longer, then frowned again as if just realizing something. He stopped in his tracks and turned to Thea, the look in his eye somewhat stern.

"Tell me, my young student, why is it that you never once spoke to the woman who was just with us, even when she asked you questions?"

Quite suddenly she rose to her feet in a graceful manor, standing tall, though in reality she was of average hight, and not truly any higher in elevation then any present...

She stepped gracefully between her sister and the woman, eyeing both with a look that read "Enough" though she knew her sister would read it as "my turn"

She turned fully now to gaze at the woman dressed in imperial clothing, her eyes shining with an innocents mingled with curiousity.

"Tell me... What is it that causes this deep routed... Obsession, with Mr. Arrakeen? if... When this disguise does not work, What then will you come as? a jedi? and then what will you be? A damsel in distress?"

She trailed of then and walked over to the woman, setting a hand gently against her shoulder.

"You need not hide behind lies and deception... If you wish to speak with Mr. Arrakeen... You are free to do so... But is there something so important, so urgent... So dreadfully horrid, that you can not speak to his friends as well?"

he eyes seemed to water slightly. "We wish not to drive you to lies... Can we not be friends? My sister and I have so few companions... so few that actauly took the time to speak with us... Most are like yourself... And simply seem to dispise us for no reason..."

Her other hand rose gently to put itself on her other shoulder, looking her pleadingly in the eye, a tear falled down her cheek. "please... be not an enemy... Be instead an allie... A companion... Be instead... A friend."

Of course, the sisters didn't know that was the reason for her lack of congeniality.

"Very well," Jaz nodded and met Allaria's gaze. "My intention was not really to fool anyone here. I'm dressed this way for a reason, which I preferred to explain to Mr. Arrakeen outside, but..." She turned to Paul again. "I've met with your Hutt employer who decided to have me get his spice shipment back instead of you. Seems he smells a double-cross, and plans to do the same to you. This get-up is to convince the garrison commander to turn it over to me." She turned to IllaAnda, "I need to out-rank the commander, and something confiscated of such value surely would be of interested to the higher-up Imps, perhaps even an admiral, who wouldn't trust the job to a flunkie."

Jaz had said all of this in slightly more than a whisper, so the other patrons couldn't hear her above the buzzing conversation and the cantina band. Again, she turned to Paul. "Seems we both need a little cash, Mr. Arrakeen, and neither of us has much love for the Hutt. Perhaps we can help each other out. I do have a ship, but the hyperdrive generator is being held hostage until I do this task for him, as payment."

Glancing at the sisters again, she added, "If your lady-friends wish to play a part, I think that could be arranged. Grakko is somewhat interested in them as well. Perhaps we can bait him a trap."

It sickened him to see another victim to the Hutt's malfeasance...and it made Paul curious to how well Jaz was able to impersonate herself as an Imperial officer.

The Jedi also saw how IllaAnda, seemingly innocent and harmless, become so defensive, harsh, and somewhat agitated by Jaz. Her sister was the same.

Something...something is going on here...

He shook his head, and quickly eliminated the thought (though he himself didn't know why).

I can't risk anymore lives...but if I don't...we're all dead anyway.

"If...if what your saying is true," Paul sighed before he continued,"then my original plan in addressing the Imperials about Grakko's crimes is out of the picture. He'll hold onto your hyperdrive generator even when his carcass is thrown off a cliff."

"B-bait?" she finally managed in a choked whisper, letting an artfully crafted shudder race through her body. Her lips trembled again; then with an effort that was apparent to all she gained control of herself and straightened a bit. Tilting her head a bit, she captured Jaz's blue eyes with her own once again.

"If my sister and I assist in your gaining this... this piece you seem to need so badly, will you take us away from this horrid planet? For this is why we seek friendship; I cannot take the time to go into great detail myself, but suffice it to say that I hold no personal love for Grakko and desire greatly to get away from him and Tatooine altogether. I did manage to flee his-- clutches with the assistance of my sister; I assume he desires me back for-- for--"

She looked down, letting her voice choke off again, and remained silent as though struggling with almost unbearable pain and self-reproach. Her long hair tumbled down, completely hiding her face, and hiding as well the little smile which now played about her full lips.

"The possibility of blood and havoc and fracas... how lovely...."

The words brushed like wisps of ghosts within her mind. But as before, although she could not actively send this thought, she knew her sister's dark talents were easily able to read it, as well as the fact that none other could.

She snuggled more closely to the jedi, her hidden sword becoming a stark stripe of vibrating and anticipatory bloodlust against her hip, a searing agony only she and Allaria were aware of.

"Please remember that, while not EVERYONE is a Jedi, EVERYONE deserves a fair first chance to show you who they are."

With that quieted once more, allowing her to consider this along with his spoken question as all the while the Mos Eisley cantina grew closer and closer into view.

"Of course you can have a ride out of here," Jaz's voice softened. "I'm heading for the Core, back where the action is," she stole a brief glance at Paul, "but I can drop you off where you like." She surprised herself by reaching out and rubbing the girl's arm. Such an empathetic gesture wasn't something she easily gave. "And don't worry about being bait. The Jedi and I won't let either of you be captured."

Next she faced Paul again to address his question. "You and I both know none of us will be rid of that slime's clutches until somebody dies. Even if we leave, he'll send a bounty hunter after us. Gangsters don't let 'personnel' or slaves go free... our lives expire when our usefulness to him expires. He already plans to kill you." Jaz lowered her voice again. "You're a Jedi, or was, and I don't doubt you could take him if you could get to him. But we can't do it that way, or you'll be a wanted man forever. Your idea to get the Imperial's help was a good start, but I don't honestly think they'd be interested enough in going after him over just what a few travelers to this planet tell them. But...," she smiled, "if the Imperials on Coruscant were informed that the Hutt busted into their database to give me this ID, they wouldn't appreciate it. They might be motivated to hire a bounty hunter to bring him down. That makes me a target too, impersonating an Imperial Officer, but what the heck, I've probably already got that on my rap sheet," she laughed. "At least it keeps you safe from an arrest warrant, Paul." Jaz realized too late she used his first name and blushed, grinning back at IllaAnda as if to playfully, silently say, What is it about a force-user that's so damn... uh... attractive?

...but then he spotted them. To the front of the bar was a small gatherng of people--3 females and one man--and one of the four was most definitely Allaria.

Shawn didn't even hesitate, and quite frankly, he didn't see any need to do so. Quietly yet quickly he approached the group of people, all of whom seemed to radiate some sort of worry or concern. Shawn couldn't help but wonder if they knew, but he decided it would be best to keep things quiet, just in case Allaria hadn't told these others, who at least appeared to be friends or aquaintances, of her situation.

Then he paused, realizing one of those aquaintances seemed vaguely familar...

...for a moment he glanced at the faces in the group til his eyes fell on the face of a blue-eyed, chesnut-haired woman. Her identity registered in his senses, seeing as it hadn't been too long since he'd helped her from this very cantina.

Good grief. Back for more already?!

Figuring this second run-in with her was nothing more than coincidence and that her change in appearance was unimportant for the moment Shawn turned to Allaria, laying a hand gently on her shoulder and pulling her to the side, making sure to keep Thea near at the same time. He let his greeny-blue eyes fall into her icy blue pair. "I am sorry to follow you like this, but I was worried," he started. "I am a Jedi with gifts in healing...perhaps I can assist you..."

slowly she began to speak, almost unable to do so... "y-y-ou... You ca... You came after me!"

seeming to discard all cares of what she might appear as she smiled burried her head into his robes sobbing slightly, she then spoke quietly, her words for his ears alone "i thought my sister was the only one that cared.... but then... you and her are the ones that know..." She then pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes once more, leaning forwards to whisper in his ear. "please... Dont tell anyone... Act as though we are old friends... None can know... I beg of you... Please..."

"Thank you," she murmured softly, following that woman's movement as her hand came to lay lightly on her arm a bit before moving away. "I will do what I must to assist; anything to get off this rock. I--"

With that she paused in surprise as the Jedi Shawn Petrolu came in from nowhere and, bold as you please, took her sister by the arm and drew her away. She watched a bit as the two whispered between themselves, then returned her brilliant gaze to Jazelle.

"It would seem there is an abundance of Jedi in this forsaken place," she murmured softly, now removing her hands from Paul to simply stand there, swathed in the enigma that was her cloak. She shook her head, smiling a bit as though in contemplation, and then continued.

"I have never before had much use for Force-users; they-- they frighten me. You however..."

Here she turned back to Paul, tilting her head a little to scrutinize his eyes.

"...you are not frightening. Perhaps I've been wrong about them; but this is of no concern at the moment. What is of concern is how to deceive this horrible Hutt, and flee in safety from this place. I am ready to do my part; what did you have in mind, exactly?"

She turned smoothly back to Jaz and quieted.

The interminable dusty sand of this godforsaken planet kicked up in little puffs beneath my boots as I made my way from my "privileged" docking space, and headed into the sorry excuse of a city that was Mos Eisley. I stared down at my toes, watching them grow dustier by the minute as I continued on, looking for all the world as if I was lost in some deep reverie....

Nassy....

...while in reality my mind was whirling like a desert dustdevil.

Yeesh, it's been too long since I've done anything along this line, I thought to myself as I just kept on moving. That little interim with all those Sith....

I pushed that thought away, for it brought back searing memories of a certain lady Twi'lek, one who I was forced to leave behind on her home planet of Rhyloth.

Gods, Nassy, how I miss you. I hope you recover... someday.

I sniffed a little, then sneezed as yet more dust wafted up to clog my nose. That brought my thoughts across light years to my immediate reality, which now that I thought of it probably wasn't much better than what I had just left behind.

They say a man who is in despair will take on desperate measures. And maybe that's why I took on that shady spice deal I had, from the Imperial who just wanted to remain anonymous. Destination: engraved in my brain. The deal? Something about payback... via the long route... against a Hutt named Grakko who had done something that I didn't even want to catch the faintest whisper of... and the two of us alone come out on the sweet end of the deal.

"Just load up the payload; I'll be back in thirty," I had said as, after that Impy and I had personally checked then resealed each and every box, in utter solitude, and had found the entire shipment present and accounted for, I had waved a hand toward the viewscreen which showed "Devil-May-Care" quietly waiting. "It will get where you want it to go, no worries."

So now I found myself with half a cycle to spare, with none being any the wiser in my wake. I didn't know what that Impy had done to hide his tracks, but he had done something, and done it very well indeed. There simply was no clue as to what was going on, what was being loaded into my ship, in containers long ago switched, then laundered, then switched again... enough that any trail which might have been laid would be so entangled it would take a hunting noghri a month to decipher. All data banks carefully erased... tracelessly. The various and sundry bodies of any temporary assistants long ago discarded, equally as tracelessly. This unknown Impy was goooood; otherwise there was simply no way in hell I would have accepted this job. I might be despairing, but I'm not stupid, even when offerred a job that would keep me going -- and going quite comfortably-- for over a year.

These thoughts brought me to a halt before a decrepit looking cantina. I shrugged.

One for the spacelanes, I suppose, I thought to myself before stepping inside, blinking my eyes as I waited for them to become accustomed to the dim lighting within.

Shawn frowned. This was no good. Thea was nearly eight, and had been through alot, had seen alot; she'd even been at the Praxeum and under the instruction of other Jedi. So why was she still struggling with something as simple as interacting with people other than Jedi?

Shawn's demeanor once again shifted to utter calm, and again he scanned the cantina and those inside...

...when he noticed someone step inside, order a drink, and sit down. Someone he knew very well. Shawn glanced down at Thea, back to the posing Imperial that he knew was Jazelle Corona, and back to Thea.

Something was up here. Something he might need to look into...

...not the type of thing one would want to bring an eight year old into, possibly. Particularly not an eight year old who was obviously lagging so far behind in her studies as a Jedi...

At length Shawn placed both hands on Allaria's shoulders, pulling her away from him to view a tear-stained face. "If you will excuse me a moment," he said quietly, "There is something I need to see to here."

With that, Shawn let his hands drop and stepped back, then took Thea by the hand. He lead her over to the man whom he knew was Yaoksi Joao. Sensing a need for stealth, however, Shawn leaned in and gave Yaoksi a moment to recognize him without so much as a word, without any exchange of names whatsoever. "I know it's been a long time, Shawn finally spoke quietly so not a soul could hear him but Yaoksi, "But I need a favor of you. My student Thea here needs a safe haven while I am working on something that has just come to my attention and might be dangerous. I know it's alot to ask but..."

Shawn hesitated, then continued, "Could you take her aboard your ship? I will be happy to, ah, pay you for the service," he said quietly. Then Shawn looked directly into Thea's startled blue eyes. "This will be the best for your safety, my young student," he explained. "Take the time to explore your Force senses and interact with people who are not Jedi. For unless you are able to do this, you will not be able to achieve the status of Jedi," we will speak of this again as soon as I can get back to you, but think very carefully on all this. For the need for Jedi in the Universe is not that they help each other, but rather that they help those who are not Jedi."

With that he quieted, again looking to Yaoksi and speaking one final time. "I will come to retrieve her as soon as possible, should you agree to this."

Then it settled on the nitty-gritty of what had been offerred.

Take a kid... and he'll pay me for it?

I opened my mouth to give my regrets... when the thought struck me.

How perfect. I mean, to stroll back to the "Devil," this innocent and charming little girl in tow... who would suspect what was by now hidden in the special storage areas I had installed aboard my ship? We would seem to be the very picture of innocence indeed... a father with his daughter, or uncle with niece. Something.

My jaw worked a bit, and then I slammed down the remainder of my drink. I set the glass back on the bar counter very carefully, then turned to Shawn.

"It has indeed been awhile, friend," I said in a low voice, appreciating this guy's innate recognition of my need for stealth. I shifted in my seat more comfortably, then looked down to the girl. She merely clung to Shawn's leg like a granite slug, and tried to hide in his robes. I drew in a deep breath... and then remembered past debts.

"Oh what the hey," I shrugged, getting off the stool and holding out my hand to the girl. She got that panicked "gandy-rak-in-headlights" look about her, but at length extended her small hand and introduced herself.

I grinned disarmingly, and shook her small hand, then cast a glance back to Shawn.

"Your timing, as usual, is impeccable," I said quietly, turning to slap some credits on the counter. Then I nodded to him. "You remember Sullust..." I winced a bit at the memory. "There was a certain spa, with it's attendant lounge. You can contact me there."

I then nodded again and, taking the little girl's hand in mine proceeded to lead her out of the cantina and into the bright and dusty landscape outside. It didn't take long to retrace my steps to where I had left Devil-May-Care, and soon, Thea in tow, I had come up to her and stopped at the hatch. It was locked; I thumbed a control, and stooped down to Thea while she opened to receive us.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands. I promise," I told the obviously frightened youngster as I reached out to ruffle the hair on her head. Then I straightened, led her aboard, and slammed and locked 'er up tighter than a Toydarian's cashbox. After a twenty minute check to ascertain that ALL the payload was indeed aboard, I casually keyed in a special priority code.

Tattooine fell away from us like a bad dream, and Devil-May-Care soared up into the freedom of space. Soon that freedom expanded into the non-reality of hyperspace and we shot off from the system, heading to the destination I had been given where the spice would be off-loaded and I would pick up the remainder of my pay.

((OOC: Follow Yaoksi and Thea into Aboard the Devil in the "CSWU" forums, thank you.))

Paul finally realized it as the man spoke to what appears to be his student.

I would have sensed it the moment they entered Tattooine's atmosphere...

With his free hand, (the other still remains gripping the blaster, which goes on unnoticed) he covered his eyes and tried to look away, ashamed of his own disability.

Ah...best to keep my thoughts to my own. If they find out...

Paul took his hand away coughed into it. "Well, we can't just walk in there and ask if they can hand over the spice. They only move 'precious' cargos by starship. Otherwise, the Imperials won't do it, not even for an Admiral. Their security has been running tight ever since the rebellions on Corellia. But..."

"In case of an attack, all such cargo are always placed on landspeeders. That way, they can be shipped out quickly during a battle. It's a new protocol I...um...borrowed from an officer's datapad."

"All need is a..." He looked down at IllaAnda, still holding on to his arm, almost like she's clinging for life itself.

That may well be the case...

"Distraction. Not an actual 'bait' but something to keep the guards occupied while another group is taking the speeder."

"Of course, we'll have to do this AFTER you talk to the Imperials about the Hutt, Jaz."

Saying her name also reminded him of a little annoyance...

"Yes, of course. I'll have a chat with the garrison commander, then rejoin you... but there is the other matter. Can you arrange for a buyer of the cargo by the time I get back? If we don't have a place to unload that stuff quick, the jig will be up. Unless you had another idea where we could store it. I have my ship, but you'd have to get it past Grakko's spies watching it at the dock."

A lump formed in her throat at the suggestion someone else move her precious ship without her in it. The Endless Emprise was not just a ship to her, it was a special gift from Stryker. The only thing he gave her worth a damn. Having it stripped by pirates was bad enough... the brief paranoid flash in her mind that the Jedi could just take it from her and leave her stranded... he wouldn't do such a thing, would he?

Trust. Might as well be a four-letter word to Jaz. She scanned his eyes and they hid things, hid feelings, hid past deeds of likely questionable ethics. Like hers, no doubt, and she smirked to herself again. He is a force-user, but otherwise we may not be so different.

"So, uh, if you'll need my ship, I guess... I'll just have to trust you. Just make sure," she glanced at IllaAnda, then back to his eyes, "you take care of her as you would a lady." She smiled mischievously, looking at the woman on his arm again. She was normally afraid of force-users? Yet she had no trouble calling off that Rodian earlier. Strange girl, acting so scared and innocent. I bet she's innocent. Well, Paul, you'll find out soon enough. Welcome to the broken hearts club...

Clearing her throat, Jaz continued. "So... need her or not? My ship, I mean."

Two and two was currently not making four. What was this about a Hutt? Spice?

A dying woman and her sister? What exactly was the connection here...?

Not to mention that their male friend was doing an excellent job of covering his emotions.

Bingo. A force-user. A well-trained one at that.

Shawn had to wonder exactly what the odds were of him bumping into a group such as this: a couple of sisters of which one is dying, and a female who claimed to be helpless and jobless yet was suddenly able to impersonate an Imperial in order to steal spice from the very Hutt she claimed to be trying to get away from, and a Force-user who was hiding every thought and emotion he possibly could.

Something definitely not right about this picture.

"Oh, hello again, Master Jedi. No real trouble. Just trying to get my ship in proper working order again so we can all get off this forsaken planet," she smiled, hoping he would mind his own business. It wasn't that she disliked him, but she saw him as a goody-goody, a practicing Jedi chaperoning a child. If he chose to hand her over to authorities, he could pick his planet and could probably drum up charges against her, some of them petty, and some, like the incident with the Rodian, not so petty. This made her uncomfortable.

Plotting revenge was another action she felt an active Jedi would disapprove of. Jaz didn't feel that way about Paul Arrakeen because the Hutt told her he'd left the Jedi and was reduced to working for scum for unknown reasons she dared not judge, lest be a hypocrite. But Shawn... his integrity still seemed well intact.

This was simply not my day. In fact, it might just be considered the least of what seemed to me an unending series of days not gone according to plan, which seemed to be bombarding me from all sides lately.

First I let that Sith ship of Galen's slip past. Then I vow and declare to the Admiral that I can get another... only by the time I get to the Guild I find Seuss has, er... how to put it nicely?

Slipped me the proverbial mickey by absconding with the one Galen and I had left with him. Where did he put it? How in Hell's Seven Circles would I know; I've been so out of touch with my old guild I was lucky to be able to walk on the planet without being marked.

Then again, word does travel fast... and after all, my name was right up there in lights with Swatzi now, as far as who was trumping out in the galactic game of "Empire Wins" we were all involved in.

But apparently being third man down in the Imperial heirarchy meant nothing on this backwater world. I sighed, reminding myself once again that I had told Actar that I'd check into his latest appropriated spice shipment en route to Coruscant. Maybe he'd forgive the fact that I hadn't been able to dig up that other ship.

Or maybe not. But then, I had fingers in far places now; I'd get back to Seuss... later.

Now I was too busy with the rather terrified looking Lieutenant who was staring at the empty packing crates he had accumulated from the various and sundry landspeeders stashed handily here and there. Each and every one of them was filled with...

...absolutely nothing. Someone had gotten here at some point, and taken the shipment once destined to a Hutt named Grakko, and then re-routed to Admiral Actar. Only now there was nothing to re-route; I let the enigmatic lenses of my Mandalorian visor glare threateningly at the young lieutenant, who looked as if he wanted to throw up in his boots.

I tapped the manifest with a gloved finger.

"Now, you say you had this shipment, that you personally saw to it's parceling out for safekeeping... yet now when we come to take it we find it missing. Have you anything else to say about it?"

The hapless officer nodded, shuffling frantically through his papers as if he'd find the missing spice lurking within their pages. Then he realized his gaffe, and shook his head frantically, his eyes wide.

I let the moment drag a bit before continuing. "The spice is gone. Imagine that."

The officer nodded miserably, looking like he expected to be held personally responsible. Which of course he would be... but later as well. I leaned in threateningly. Something just wasn't smelling right about this entire situation, and I meant to get to the bottom of it. That's the least I could do for the Admiral, after all.

"Now listen to me very carefully. Someone is stealing the Admiral's cargo, and this someone is going to be caught and punished for it. If I know how somebodies like this usually operate, they usually aren't happy with just a one-time shot at stardom. Once the bug has bitten, they're done for.

"So!"

I paused, letting my helmet visor speak volumes while I sent a coded transmission off to Actar on the private frequency we had set up between us. No one could hack into that message, and I mean even I couldn't do it had I wanted to.

I nodded as the brief conversation ended, then turned to the lieutenant. He gulped visibly.

"We pretend nothing has happened, my friend. We go on, life as normal. We keep our eyes open, won't we? And we wait."

And buddy, are your eyes going to be assisted by places and people you haven't even begun to dream of. For although I might not have been with Actar that long, I have come to know him well. And in most matters what boiled down to brass tacks was the principle of the thing....

And thus it was nothing but principle which made me reach out and casually snap the lieutenant's neck... but only after we had carefully closed up the crates and taken them back to their landspeeders and hidden once again. When it comes to spice, the least number of peeps who know about things, the better... and the dead aren't much inclined to continue switching rontos in midstream.

Which is what I had a very great suspicion was happening here.

I stolled back into the garrison with the body, and dumped it casually before the troopers in attendance.

"This is what happens when you lie to get into the Imperial guard. Actar wants only the most loyal; I do hope you understand this.

"And keep an eye out on that cargo for Actar. We'll be taking it with us when we go."

I then left, to go find a place to grab a bite and think about what I was going to do next....

Shawn simply folded his hands deeper into the sleeves of his robe, looking to all the Universe as though he were simply a niave Jedi. Yet he was well aware of the fact that this whole situation was still quite frankly just wrong.

He smiled a moment over to Allaria's sister, making note to ask names later, then turned and look Jaz dead in the eye, his usually calm Jedi gaze turning stern once again. "My student is being taken care of," he said quietly. "But I wonder...how precisely are you planning to fix your ship, with no parts and no money?" he inquired, cocking his head slightly and looking at the other man in their group for a moment, a flash of something that could be interpreted as suspicion in his eyes. Then he returned that gaze to Jaz and waited, the stern look returning to his usually calm gaze.

At the door she turned and called back to Paul Arrakeen, "My comm frequency is beta-three-nine, when you need to call me. I'm late for my meeting. And if you decide to take my ship without telling me... it's booby-trapped, so I suggest you call first."

And what an itchy blaster-finger she had. Metaphorically speaking as well as literally.

Shawn didn't frown at all this; a slight raise of the brow was the only thing he did in response to any of it. The whole situation was still bothering him, however, pressing him to find out more details. He turned his look back in the direction of Allaria, then once again to her sister, actually laying a gentle hand on Allaria's arm. Then he eyed the Force-user still with them.

"I'm a friend of these ladies," he said, "I will not be gotten rid of so easily. I want to know what you plan and how it relates to my friends here, and I want to know it now. And by the way...what was your name again?"

His look all but reading I know you are a Force-user, so you might as well be out with it, Shawn simply waited for the man's reply.

Suddenly, the rays interrupted by the shadow of a man passing before her, heading confidently toward the cantina. Jaz looked up with one eye, the other still trained on her blaster, and saw the figure take note of her, his eyes lingering slightly longer than she preferred.

Perhaps it was the scar jaggedly decorating his face clear from the eye to the jaw, or his manner in general, but clearly he was no ordinary scum. A survivor, likely a killer, perhaps a pirate or a bounty hunter... either way, his interest in her Imperial dress was more than a little unsettling.

Never mind how you got that position, Hunter....

I pushed that errant thought viciously away, and returned my attention to the cantina across the way. Behind me the Toydarian running the miserable little show I was currently standing in dared to come fluttering over to me, waving his greedy little hands about something. I just moved a casual finger, and a small projectile flew out from my gauntlet to ignite a waiting repair droid into furious and gibbering life. The Toydarian squawked, and flew off to capture it.

I grinned a little, shifting my weight again, then sent my gaze for the third time to the cantina. One can never be too careful in certain circumstances; as I was saying, I might be Actar's lefthand man now, but that certainly gives me no excuse to go running off like some kind of loose cannon, all full of myself. So I leaned against the wall again, scoping the view, determining if I really wanted to go across to that miserable dive at all. It certainly looked seedy, and fates knew I could get food aboard the destroyer Actar had pressed upon me.

That's when a person came storming out from that cantina to a waiting speeder bike. She began to mount it-- oh yes, she was definitely a she, as was clearly revealed by my zoom lens. Not too bad in the looks department: intense dark blue eyes, blond wisps hanging down from the Imperial cover on her head... and dressed in a Major's uniform? My eyes slitted behind my visor as I ran through the list of officials on this sorry excuse for a planet. Not just any list; it was THE LIST, commed to me by Actar himself, of all the officers he had stationed here. Some would say he was being something close to paranoid about merely a spice shipment; I knew better, however. The man had every right to double-check his security -- which is partly why I got my position, after all -- especially after what had happed on Coruscant in that fiasco over Galen. Many a man had died over the weeks succeeding that day....

So I now deepened my interest in this lady major. Or perhaps I should say, "supposed major." There were none to speak of garrisoned here, fates knew; and as far as I knew there were relatively few females in his troops. Not after the Galen Affair. Actar seemed a bit-- hesitant to trust too many women after that. I crossed my arms, watching her now as some scarred man...

Probably a bounty hunter wannabe, sheesh, the universe is full of them. A guy picks up a facial scar, and all of a sudden he's Captain Tougher-Than-Space-Slugs or something....

...came striding confidently along though the dust and sand and general misery that was a street in Mos Eisely. Her attention darted to him, but covertly.

Hmmm. She's got something to hide, the way her body language is screaming at me.

That decided it for me. I just shifted a touch, letting myself blend more imperceptibly into the shadows of this kiosk, and continued to watch while the imperial impersonator continued to stare obliquely at the helmetless man striding somewhat close to her. I couldn't help but shake my head.

She kept her face hidden, bringing her warrior nature back under control, and when she was certain not a lick of her inner darkness was present raised it. Those brilliant eyes focused brightly on Shawn.

"Oh, you mean Paul here!" she said even more brightly, playing the dumb beauty to the hilt. "Ara- Ara-something... hmmm.

"Y-yes, Arakeen, it's Paul Arakeen, didn't you say?

"I'm IllaAnda, and this is my sister Allaria. Wow... a real Jedi Knight...."

She let her voice trail off in awe, but even so her lips parted in a friendly and brilliant smile. She nodded pleasantly toward the waiting jedi and stood quietly, once again taking Paul by the arm.

Then he looked back to Paul. "Judging from what I have heard of you, my friend," he said coolly, "I think you'd better explain just exactly what is going on here."

Then he waited, his look reading that he wouldn't settle for anything other than the truth and that he'd better hear it soon.

I haven't even left yet and I'm already having problems.

He looked back at the other Jedi.

No point in hiding.

"I'll answer your question, Jedi, but let this be known," Paul started to say, taking a step forward. "I'm not going back to the Praxeum. I'm not going back to the council for a trial concerning how I "murdered" my Padawan. The rumours are a lie, and the witnesses that were there arrived after I fought with my apprentice."

Before he could respond, Paul continued talking. His stare became more focused and serious as he controlled the rageful words starting to build up.

"Your friends here...they've become involved in a little plot to take down a gangster named Grakko. Their part in it will be brief, and it will be the only way we can escape from Tattooine."

The Jedi started to relax, and he stepped back. "I'll understand if you have any objections to this...but I won't you let you stop us."

Shawn forced himself to remain calm, but he was by no means that. He arched an eyebrow at the Jedi Master. "I don't think there's any threat of you facing the Jedi Council, seeing as the Praxeum has been taken over by Actar and therefore was probably destroyed by him. And aside from that, I don't necessarily care to go back there myself," he stated with no further explanation. "But I am interested, however, in how it is IllaAnda and Allaria benefit from this plan of yours, and how it is exactly you believe this is your only way off Tatooine; at any rate, it isn't a very peaceful nor legal way to do so. You must take the Imperials and the Hutt's gang for complete morons if you think this will really work; you are risking alot of lives in this little scam. And while you may threaten my attempt to stand in the way of this plan, you simply aren't getting rid of me that easily," Shawn ended.

But then, he couldn't help but add one final rejoinder. "By the way...while I answer to 'Jedi' I tend to prefer to be called Shawn. It is my name, after all."

Through all of this, Shawn's look still remained eeriely calm, yet his senses were ever fully alert...

"You-- you mean we're still going through with-- with whatever it was?" she asked, the very picture of innocence. "I thought we were being rejected for whatever Jazelle had planned, since she ran out of here before telling us what we were to do."

She now turned the full force of her beautiful smile upon Shawn, who's expression hadn't shifted one iota.

"I don't think she wants Allaria or me around... maybe she thinks we'll ruin her plan or something." She shrugged, finishing up with. "I really hadn't been given any suggestions or ideas; all I know was that the plan was her idea... and I never heard any part of it other than something about a 'distraction' Allaria and I were supposed to do... but now I guess we're not...

"So I guess the whole things off now, right?"

Her smile grew impossibly brighter, revealing the tips of her gleaming teeth...

...and all the while the hidden Skemmdarvargur was fairly howling beneath her cloak.

"how will we get off this accursed planet... Nothing seems to be going our way..."

She then directed her gaze in the direction of her "friends" and her beloved sister...

But Grakko was probably watching her somehow, so at least making an appearance at the cantina, then the garrison, might lead the Hutt to believe she was following his demands. If it didn't work, she could call him on it later and perhaps find some other way to deal with him.

She stepped off the speeder and walked up to the trooper at the gate, who stood at attention when he realized her rank.

"Good evening, Sargeant. I need to speak to your commanding officer immediately -- tell him Major Zenna Tori is here. It's a security matter." She handed him an identification card complete with verification code.

The trooper shifted uncomfortably, then after checking her documentation, reluctantly replied. "Uh... ma'am, I'm afraid our Lieutenant is no longer with us. Sorben Tarnus was here a little while ago and... relieved him of his duty. I thought perhaps you were here to take over."

Jaz blinked a couple of times to register the trooper's words. What a stroke of luck... or was it. The name the sargeant mentioned rolled around in her brain. Tarnus... where have I heard that name? Corellia... yes, Striker mentioned him once. Striker was nervous discussing him, said he worked for dark Jedi. Now he's an Imp?And he killed an officer? Absently she rubbed her neck.

She snapped back into the conversation with the trooper. "No, I was not informed ahead that you needed a new commander. I would like to communicate a message back to Coruscant. The Hutt gangster Admiral Actar has been dealing with apparently has access to Imperial personnel files and is stealing officer IDs. I think the Admiral should know this."

She stood confidently, hoping the trooper was assuming hers was not one of the stolen ones, for why would the thief come to the garrison and confess? Why indeed...

"I'd send the message myself, but my ship is temporarily disabled, including my link back to the Core. Will you pass this message on for me, Sargeant?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied, which annoyed Jaz... she hated being called that.

"If you see Mr. Tarnus again, please request he look into this Grakko more closely."

"Yes, Major, I'll be sure to tell him."

"Excellent," she smiled, then added, "Do you happen to have a spare hyperspace generator in your lost and found?" she added batted eyelashes for fun. Heck, it worked for IllaAnda.

The trooper shook his head. "Sorry, ma'am. Almost everything but. I can order another transport for you."

The offer was tempting, but Jaz needed to take her own ship with her, not leave it behind. Not to mention adding theft of an Imperial cruiser to her already growing criminal record didn't sound like the healthiest option. Plus, it wouldn't allow her to verify if Grakko finally got his.

"No need. There's a part being expressed to me, I just thought I'd save time. Perhaps another day investigating the Hutt and possibly bumping into Mr. Tarnus is reason enough to wait. Carry on, Sargeant. I'm sure you have your work cut out for you watching over that shipment for the Admiral." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked back to the speeder.

Paul Arrakeen had not commed her yet, so she would head for the cantina again and warn him that his life was possibly in danger, perhaps Shawn Petrolu's too, if Tarnus was walking around. Then she would hear Paul's idea to distract the guards and get to those landspeeders. She smiled as she thought the task might be easier, now that no officer was in charge of the garrison.

And with any luck, Tarnus would hear about the Hutt's slicing into the Imperial database very soon.

"Her name is Zenna Tori, you say?" I scoured THE LIST once again; nope. Nothing remotely similar to it, let alone being anywhere physically near enough to give her anything close to a reason for being way out here in the sticks. Zenna Tori, at last report, was stationed on Ambria, where her duties were to oversee certain... developments of my esteemed cohort, Admiral Swatzi. A ship had fallen into their hands, last I had heard. She was one of the most fiercely loyal officers the Empire had, as fiercely loyal as was the ensign on the other end of the comm-link. Which was why a mere major had been given so delicate a duty.

I snapped back to what the Ensign was now telling me, his voice low. "She asked for a hyperdrive generator, Sir," he continued respectfully. "She was told we didn't have any available for her."

And this... along with the information she had dripped concerning the Hutt's database hacking, she casually passes on to a mere Trooper, even after having been informed that I was on-planet? I couldn't help but shake my head again at the sheer amateurish show this woman was making of herself. Which brought me back to the utter professonalism of Ensign-soon-to-be-Lieutenant Zhurelle.

"Good," I nodded thoughtfully, then quieted a bit, considering everything again, returning to the Trooper who had been on point upon her arrival.

At least the little blabbermouth got the part about the generator right....

"I want everyone you've got checking the spaceport manifests. If there's been a ship sitting there disabled, I want to know about it," I began, when the ensign cut into my building command.

"Sir, I have already taken that upon myself," the ensign replied snappily, a touch of smugness now creeping into his otherwise respectful tone of voice. "There are two, the Heaven's Forbiddance, registered to a Bothan by the name of 'Minna Manth,' and an Endless Emprise, currently in registration transfer from a person named Stryker to someone named 'Jazelle Corona.'"

He paused, waiting. I smiled to myself... making a mental note that this kid deserved a better station than this miserable hellhole.

"Very good," I affirmed, then continued. "I want those two ships under constant watch, and then I want that watch tripled. I don't want so much as a sandrat to come anywhere close to them. And I want whatever incoming shipments regarding any parts for either to be sent off to Kessel in error, if you catch my drift."

I also wanted "Officer Loose Lips" who had so blithely informed the lady that Sorben Tarnus was aware of her existence, out of his personal one... only that would be something I would be taking care of myself.

Soon.

"And, I want what would appear to be a normal watch placed around those landspeeders... and I would appreciate it if you directed this personally. Carry on," I finished, closing the connection, then sending another message off to Actar along our private and indecipherable-- to others, at least --comm frequency. He'd certainly be interested in the fact that there seemed to be more than meets the eye going on out here in the boondocks that was Tatooine... and I meant to get to the bottom of it.

I shifted against the junk-dealer's wall, still eye-balling that cantina, and just waited to see if any new developments would come my way. Waiting was, after all, something I did very, very well....

She removed the jacket, exposing the white tee shirt she wore underneath, then ripped all the insignias and patches off. Next she drew a pocket knife and cut off the sleeves, converting the jacket into a plain vest. The converted jacket now showed off well-defined arms she feared were getting too soft from easing up on her workouts.

She couldn't do much about the piping on the pants, but she scuffed the boots against the speeder and dirtied them with sand. Finally, she removed the officer's cap and let her unnaturally brown hair fall back to her shoulders, then shook it out and fluffed it a little.

"Much better," she sighed to herself, then even glanced in the view-reflector to check her appearance. Now Jaz, she scolded herself, you haven't done that in years. All this weird behavior for a crush? You're slipping...

"I don't care," she smugly replied to herself in the reflector. Talk about distractions, I can use one. Almost had one, until... and here I go talking to myself again. The galaxy was always lonely, but now it seemed even more so to Jaz. Again a sigh escaped her and she spread a little more sand and dust on her pants.

Heading for the cantina, she walked in the door and noticed Shawn Petrolu was still there with Paul, the twins as well. Jaz grabbed Paul's sleeve and tugged him off to the side. "I need to talk to you... NOW!"

Before he could protest, she whispered, "Listen, I went to the garrison and dropped the tip about Grakko. Guess what I found? No commander, no officers, just troopers, one of them dumb enough to tell me their Lieutenant was killed by a guy named Sorben Tarnus. Know him by chance? I think our plan is becoming more complicated."

She glanced over at Shawn who was still in earshot, wondering if the Jedi knew more about this bounty hunter-turned-Imperial.

"I know this is my fault, taking the Hutt's stolen major ID and using it... I'll take the fall for that, but he's here for some other reason. I thought I should warn you." Her eyes held a look of sincere concern, even for this man she barely knew.

It isn't going to help you, Jazelle Corona, a promise even more grim followed on its heels. For a moment longer I just stood there, considering while she disappeared into the cantina.

Most people are as predictable as rain... well, as the sandstorms on this miserable planet. They always return to the scene of the crime. This lady, however... Something was screaming at me that, although she did have her amateurish moments from what I could deduce, she herself was probably a touch smarter than most peeps hereabouts. Ok, so that wasn't saying much; than most peeps anywhere. How else did she manage to get herself this deeply involved in Hutts and missing spice shipments and illegal Imperial identification papers...?

Logic led to an obvious conclusion. She was not returning to the cantina because that's her favorite hide-out. She was returning because there was someone inside she was meeting.

I waited until she had finished her little accoutremental adjustment and had disappeared into the weather-beaten entrance of the seedy little cantina. After a moment or two had passed, I flipped the Toydarian a couple credits for letting me hang with him, and exited into the brilliant light outside his equally seedy little kiosk.

That almost blinding sunlight didn't even slow my pace; my visors darkened automatically in compensation as I strode purposefully ahead. In less than a worrt's hop-skip-and-snag-the-gleeberfly I was beside her speederbike. A moment after that, and it was disabled to the point where a quick fix just wouldn't cut it. Then, after removing the Imperial insignia from where she had stashed them in the bikes infinitesimal storage compartment, I did a quick scout of the cantina itself.

It was like any other here: completely without windows, and the only way in and out being the door into which she had disappeared. I smiled in thanks to the greedy operators of these dives, who didn't trust anyone-- with good reason, I might add --and thus wanted to be assured no one would be slipping quietly out of the establishment without paying. Everyone, and I do mean everyone who went in could only come out that single doorway, and Imperial officer impersonators were no exception.

The smile I had been maintaining widened further, and I tapped a comm-link back to the garrison. It didn't take long for a squad of crack troopers to come up... quietly... whereupon with a stealthiness matched only by their alacrity they moved into various positions surrounding the cantina.

I nodded my helmeted head once, made a motion that they all keep alert and ready, and was rewarded as to a man they all raised their blasters and remained tottering on the fine edge of anticipation. I didn't let them wait long.

Bold as a brass bogey I strode into the cantina, my visor now lightening to compensate for the lack of lighting therein. It didn't take me long to spot her whispering to an unidentified male, standing next to a table holding a couple fine looking fems and their companion who were watching the conversation with interest....

Dammit, was that Shawn Petrolu? I jerked a bit in surprise as I recognized the calm visage of that Jedi Knight. Then I shook my head.

I'm playing this hand out as it goes, I thought grimly as before anyone could quite register that I was there I lifted a gauntleted hand and let fly with my good ol dependable needler. Tiny darts shot out unerringly, finding their targets in the unprotected throats of the man talking to Jaz and the two women sitting at the table. I watched as the three let out little sighs and slumped, unconscious. Then I moved quickly in on the remaining pair, my blaster now held out and ready, knowing the three were out for a count of at least a couple hours. And what a headache they'd have when they awoke....

"Don't do it, Petrolu," I growled threateningly as I came up to them, pinning the pair in place. "I have no argument with you." Then--

"This is Imperial business!" I finished in a louder tone of voice, thus evoking the response I expected from this seedy cantina's seedier clientele. To an alien, they all turned back to their own mundane businesses, acting as if we weren't there. Which was good... for them.

Still holding my blaster out, tensed just the slightest and ready for anything, and standing beyond the reach of any sort of martial arts reaction on the part of either of the two, I turned to face the jedi, silently reminding him that I had not needled him whereas I easily could have. Then I let my visor join my blaster in targeting the startled-- yet somehow expectant --woman with the enigma that it was.

"Jazelle Corona, you are under arrest for the impersonation of an Imperial Officer," I intoned, holding up the insignia which she had ripped from her clothing mere moments before. "And that's just for starters.

"Will you come with me peacefully, or are you going to make me gladly earn my pay? I ought to warn you that this is not my favorite place to be in the universe, and so far I have not been enjoying my stay here."

I tensed just a touch wee more, my fingers tightening about my blaster, curling in the vicinity of the trigger, ready to trigger as well certain other devices at my disposal should the need arise....

"Oh hell," I growled when she didn't reply as quickly as I would have liked. My other hand touched a button on my gauntlet, and my netgun discharged, entangling the woman in its silken yet unbreakable strings. I waved the tip of my blaster at her, yet the words I spoke were clearly for the still-quiet Jedi.

"You're being as smart as I remember you as being, Petrolu," I grated, reaching out to take the ensnared Jazelle by the net. "Stay smart, and you'll stay free."

A quick call on the comm, and the cantina was soon swarming with troopers, who reached out to take up the two sleeping women.

"Get her companion," I said, nodding toward the snoozing male and watching as they first searched, quickly disarmed, then picked him up none too carefully. As for me, I jerked Jazelle forward toward the door.

"You'd better be coming along too, Petrolu," I growled over my shoulder then fell silent. "If you're innocent of any wrong-doing you'll be freed.

"Not that I can say the same thing about your friends here."

With nothing other to say than that insidious threat, accompanied by the squad of troopers, I escorted our prisoners back to the garrison, and soon had them behind bars in preparation for interrogation.

She looked over at her sister, whom shared her cell... She looked as though she had been awake for slightly longer then this time...

Allaria simply smiled to herself... She had sensed the troops... had to sensed the "dark" intent of that Sorben Tarnus... But had kindly kept that information between her sister, and herself... Desiring to be taken into the heart of it all... Where her thirst for blood might be quenched...

She walked over to sit beside her sister... Reaching out with her mind to locate the others of thier "party"

Paul was yet unconcious a few cells away, and that... Woman, was in the same room as the bounty hunter...

Shawn was seemingly in waiting, probably in a meditative state... she dared not look closer to him while he was in such contact with the force...

Allaria cast her gaze upon her sister with a slight smile in anticipation of what could, and hopefuly would come soon...

....A cell?

He was laying on the floor, cold to the touch, with his back against the wall.

He was still wearing his robe, but his blaster was gone.

Jaz...IllaAnda.... he thought. What happened to the others?

The Jedi crawled forward, as he felt little feeling in his legs. However, he was able to sit in the middle of the cell and cross his legs (after pulling them together).

Paul closed his eyes and meditated, to search for answers...

Jamel stared through the window at his former home planet. He could remember his residence upon the planet like the color of the back of his hand. It was placed right before the catina's within the middle of the city so his father could venture quickly to his favorite spots. Yet Jamel never truly payed attention to their residence until the nearing of his residing of the planet. When he noticed how his father every night ventured out and came back beating him. It was never that way when his mother was around, he had something to do all the time, and someone to talk to. She was such a great mom, he loved her so much.

A tear rolled down Jamel's cheek in remembrence of the words his mother told him. All of those conversations, and situations they got themselves into. Jamel's mother was like a sister and a mother at all times which made her much more special then just a stay-at-home mother. She incouraged him to manufactor, or study in many arts of fighting. She always was behind him, and if not she explained herself and taught him the troublesome of his actions.

Suddenly the sound of a ship wushing by heading toward the foundation of the planet for a landing broke through the void of Jamel's mind. He glanced quickly at it the ship in intrest, and then looked down at his control panel to analize, attempting to find the activating control-which would start his engines for seperation of space into the the tide of Tattonie.

Placing his finger upon the button after he found it, he felt the rattling of the ship's engines, going gradually backward, pointing so that it would fire them toward the foundatoin of the planet. Uploading the engine's activating boosting control, the ship rocketed toward the atomsphere of the planet, prepared to rip through and land upon the surface safely.

As the situation rolled out, and Jamel laid tranquilized in his seat for such a youthful boy in his position, the ship rattled and motioned from side to side before it came to a soft landing. They created an indintation upon the ground, it was a musy clay substance, but not strong enough to incacerate the ship to a motionless position, nor if it was to be hardened by the heat of the sun in a later time of the day. Jamel was prepared to exit..

Seated in his leather chair, staring down at his control panel he motioned his hand forward. The weight of Jamel's finger pushed the button downward, and slowly the glass cockpit topping hatched open in preperation of an exiting. Jamel stood up, leaping over onto the surface, and heading quickly toward the closest city; Mos Esily.

Jamel's feet touched the soil of Mos Esily, his fingers scrunched into a ball like a young child in the cold breeze. The white hair colored boy stood still as the warm draft ran through his clothing, shoving his small-sized overcoat into a flutter. The breeze picked up as his foot was beckoned forward, digging into the surface, gesturing a bodily expression of timid fury. these steps continued, heading twoard a catina, making a probable prediction that his father was there drunk as usual. Shifting his head downward, focusing his hazel white hued eyes on the movement of his feet down the steps. Opening the catina door, he absorbed the enviroment into his circular gems. The community was lit with dark shaded lights, imposing the iris of Jamel to widen and catpure the view.

The young boy ambled toward the bar. Arresting his walk at the frontier of the bar, he leaped upon a pedastal, staring forward at the waitress awaiting to grasp the attention of her for his sudden arrival.

Glancing about in the time between the recongition from the waitress, he observed the area, attempting to catch the view of anyone he saw around his beckon (One of which he told him to take the job) in previous rest on Tattonie.

Cutting his eyes to the side as his eyebrow rose, the lights shined upon his face, staring at the man ahead who was of Botan Disendance. He glanced around once more, absorbing in the many races and features of the beings. Their was nothing paciular about the area, he felt soon he should take his leave and venture off to find any other clues.

Coming to a stand, he headed toward the door, but on his amble to the doro he bumped into a being falling to the surface from the stern strenght of the body. Staring up he saw the face of the one who he believed beckoned him to the sandy planet of Tattonie.

He was innocent, and had never even approved of this plan. Allaria and IllaAnda...were just being dragged along in it, and really didn't have much to do with anything excepting they had somehow gotten entangled in it.

But Jazelle and Paul...

Shawn figured Sorben Tarnus would talk to them individually, at some point. He couldn't know who would say what, nor who would be spoken to first. All he knew, for the moment, was that they would simply have to wait, and that, with Allaria's condition, the sisters would simply have to be realized. And aside from that, they were innocent...

He'd simply have to wait and see what would happen next.

So he remained quietly meditating, bathing his mind and his senses in the life that the Force gave, unaware as to the passage of time for the moment til at length he finally heard Allaria query what they should do.

Quietly be spoke. "You should comply with Sorben Tarnus, as you are both innocent," he commented, then quieted once more.

"Who are you?" The boy questioned with whispered exclaimation, hopping not to have the response at a higher tone for the fact that the revealing of the creature could start a brawl upon such a outlaw-orientated planet.

The Bothan ran his hand along the hood, shifting it off to display himself. He was clearly not the one in the hologram, this man held a scar slashed along his face, down from his forehead ranging to his opposite sided cheek. It wasn't complete vivid if one had not observed, but the indintation on the furred skin as evident. Another opposite characterstics is the height of the man was smaller, and his body was slinder, yet this man was bulk-filled with muscular tone from head to toe, with a slighter larger stature. Yet with all these distinive charactersitics, it was unknown who this man truly was.

The scared Bothan's mouth opened, reaching down into his body to voice the words that he was searching for what he needed to state.

"I am Wyl Scylla-We must take this conversation outside. Their is much to talk about, and within a catina many things could happen as I got word something did happen earlier today. Now shall we take our exit?" Bothan stepped to the side, allowing his acquainted to depart before he, as a show of trustworthiness along with evident respect.

Jamel bowed his head slightly in formal terms of respect he headed toward the door. Placing his hand upon it, he shifted a small pint of strenght within his arm, pushing the door to an opening. Heading out, he placed his hands at his side. Followed quickly behind the footsteps of his acquainted. The two stood beside each other to begin their talk as they walked beside each other.

"Im here to purpose of you something. Would you like to join the Republic Rebel Union?" Wyl stated, glancing down at the boy for his response.

The boy was clearly shocked by the purposal, yet he had intresting questions that swirled his mind at that moment as well. He wouldn't respond in a 'yes' or 'no' fashion yet, not until he knew the full extent of the union, and his merging.

"Why do you want me to jon the union? What is so specia-" Before the young boy could finish his statement the Bothan interupted, stating the reasons in response, allowing the boy to understand the state.

"We know much about your background and were you could be heading at the moment. We have little numbers as well, but that isn't the true reason of my proposal. You wield strenghts in acrobatic and physical combatant skills. As well as the home-planet you are from-you are from the planet were we want to place our base. Yet we need your help in this dire position. Their are Imperail military postings here, we need your help to destroy of them. You know much about this planet's landscape and the ways of this planet as you once lived here if Im not mistaken? So I their are many reasons why you are special.." The Bothan of Scylla family came to an end, his head arising to capture the view of the boy, and absorb the reaction to the statements.

The boy was shocked, yet he followed beside the man. He noticed the full potiental of such a mission, he was only steps away from actually helping or being a warrior. It was a dream of his since he was 3 years old, and he was hoping it would come true soon. He wanted to bring joy to his mother-where ever her where abouts were.

"I agree, I agree!" Thorought the response his voice shot up in exclaimination and excitment.

The Bothan smirked with confidence in the boy, and pleasurment in the youth as he spoke the words of agreement.

"Follow me, we must buy things for the mission-and you must go immeditally." The two gestured to in response to the command. The bothan had the wealth to use on the objects, and items they wanted. Getting their things within a moment of time they ventured out the door to depart on different paths.

The Bothan was to give his last commands to the boy before their departure. The two stood side by-side, the boy atop a Flare-S swoop which he learned to manage and manufactor in his earlier days on Tattonie.

"When you make it into the military base through whatever precept you wish alert us immeditally. We will get you out and any prisoners as well. We must also destroy of the garrison as quick as possible too. Thats why you have that pack of your's." The man came to a finish, saluting the young boy with a smile crossing his face. Placing his other hand upon the bag which is crossed over the boy's body-showing him where his weaponary is for his rememberence.

The boy responded with a smile back, shifting his hand along the speeder driver control he shifted foward, heading to a turn with the motion of his body shifting the swoop. Heading toward the horizion and the coordinates of which he believed the military base was spotted from the Bothan known as Wyl of the Republic Union. Smirking with excitiming drilling through all his bones, he narrowed his eyes. The merging of his confidence and enthustastic attitude came to a harde collision upon his expression, his eyes darting downward in focus as well as his body motioning forward like a bullet. His lips curved into a optimistic smirk.

What they did first best was gather information... and Minna had an earful that she was certain whoever was in charge of the local Imperial garrison would just love to have. Certain enough to make the trip in person.

And hopefully whoever was in charge will be so grateful that he or she will order the parts "Forbiddance" needs, so I can get off this dustball and on to bigger and better things, she thought as she glided along.

The slender and insidious Bothan never spoke one word, but keeping her eyes and ears everywhere did in fact manage to gain the Imperial garrison, where she boldly -- if respectfully -- asked to speak to a Mr. Sorben Tarnus. She smiled a bit to herself, knowing what was probably going to happen next... and thus wasn't the least bit surprised when after a few moments a couple armed guards came up from nowhere to escort her to a holding cell.

At least she was pretty certain it was a holding cell....

After about an hour's worth of inner fidgeting, she was rewarded as the Man Himself strode up to her. He cocked his enigmatic helmet at her, and waved to an accompanying guard, who then opened her cell and released her. A blaster then appeared as if by magick in the guard's hand; Minna immediately raised both her hands, ducking her head as if to say, "Hey. Don't look at me like that; I'm not stupid, you know."

The infamous bounty hunter, and now sidekick to Admiral Actar himself, bowed his head in her direction, cueing her to begin. She did so, and without preamble let out with a stream of information about an up-coming attack on the garrison, planned by a fellow Bothan. She left nothing out, spilling times and names and descriptions and weaponry as a rancor's disemboweled prey spills its guts; finally she wound down, her dark and shining eyes still staring boldly into Sorben's visor.

He remained silent, then nodded to her again. Turning to the guard, he indicated that Minna follow.

"Pay her what she desires," Tarnus ordered succinctly, then strode on rather quickly. There was suddenly much to put into action, and obviously there was very little time in which to do so.

Minna's smile only broadened and she began walking toward freedom, all the while reciting a rather long list of the parts and services Heaven's Forbiddance was going to need. With any luck, she'd have full repairs overseen and could be far away from this place inside of a week....

What in the name of all the fates was going on out here? I growled to myself as I hurried back to the command center. First its a Hutt and a missing spice shipment, then the impersonation of a major, somehow tied into said shipment, I would just bet my bottom dollar on that. Now it's a planned attack on this garrison, whilst said impersonator is held prisoner, in the aftermath of the disappearance of said spice shipment, said attack planned by a Bothan???

What is wrong with this picture... besides all of it?

I drew in a deep and disgusted breath as I came up to Lieutenant Zhurelle, who I had left in charge.

"There's going to be an attack attempted upon this garrison," I said, quickly tapping in a new security code to switch the keying sequence of all the locks on all the prisoners' cells. "It makes no sense... at the moment, unless the prisoners we have just taken represent more than meets the eye.

"I want them transported immediately aboard Subjugator, and inform the captain that I shall be following soon."

No sooner had the order left my lips than it was implemented, and after a fairly short wait I was informed that the prisoners had been transported and re-incarcerated aboard the star destroyer Actar had pressed upon me. I nodded, then proceeded to link up to her.

"This is Tarnus," I began. "I want a legion of troops, full armor and equipment, sent down to the coordinates of this garrison immediately, with back-up."

I then closed the link with an authoritative snap, and strode out to where my own YT-2400 was waiting for me in my personal docking bay behind the garrison headquarters. In but moments more, I was soaring up and away from Tatooine and headed to where my destroyer lay in silken orbit about it. I then proceeded to the detention cells, to ascertain with my own eyes that the prisoners had indeed made it safely to their new destination.

Suffice it to say, they had.

Jamel came toa stand, lifting his foot from the buckle of the swooper, and departing to a small ditch a meter from his swoop bike. Tightening his grip upon the bag strap he dragged it over his head, ducking under and placed it down beside him. Inspecting the tools he had within, he looked around for his eletric binoculers to inspec the situation. Placing them upon his eyes, he quirked with the controlling and the visual materailied before his eyes.

Gazing ahead, he observed every activity that they had. It was obvious they were prepared for the situation as all men were heavly equipted, or sheilded with enormous amount of armor compared to the attire of the young boy observing them. The boy ran his body closer, attempting catch a better view of the activity. Smiling with pleasurment of his actions, he drew his body to a slow stand.

Motioning out the small ditch. Kneeling down to the level of his bag, reaching in for one of his objects. Grasping tightly upon it, but securing it so it wouldn't break he drew it out. It was a yellow colored, tiny sized holocam. Tampering with the controllings of the holocam, finally launching it with the broadcast signal alerting with a beep within the basement of the basement of the homes of those apart of the Republic Union upon the planet of Tattonie that had recently settled down to prepare for their attack on the troops in the garrison.

Jamel quickly introduced himself, settling in a comfortable position before the holo-camera which broadcasted him inside all of the holopads within the houses of the Republic Union on Tattonie.

"My name is Jamel Garth, a boy who has became an affilate and laborer of the Republic. I am here on a mission in spying on the garrison to begin the battle. I alert you now that their is evidence that they have got word from a spy, or one apart of our legion that we were to attack. I suggest we go by sky, equipted with all we got and attack. They aren't expecting a sky attack from my observation. Before I leave I'd like to state that I will commence my attack on them from my point to hold them off as you guys come and take them from the air and place a few troops on the surface. Over and Out.." The holocam went blank followed quickly by the holopads vanishing.

Jamel placed the holocam in his bag and ventured off toward his swoop-bike. Placing the bag strap along his chest, he locked it down, preparing for his attack. Reactivating the repulsorlifter engines, the swooper bike shifted itself off the foundation wihth the dirt under it being crumbled by the antigravity engine. Rushing down the hill he suddenly hits the side of the hill by accident, throwing himself along with the bag along the sand of the hill, bouncing about 40 meters ahead of the frontier line of the military within the Imperail alligence.

"Uh-oh!" Jamel fearfully stated, watching as his adversaries observed him, prepared to fire. Placing their pistols up toward him and begin firing.

Thinking quickly as possible, he took his eyes upon his Flare-S swoop shifting forward. Looking into his bag he grabbed his detonation packs, throwing them with his full strenght. Immeditately on contact they attached to the un-riden vehicle. The transport consitited of 11 packs, prepared to be activated with an compelling fulmination, in which would throw Jamel's competiors back.

"Detonation Packs, a true friend of a gladuis" Jamel told himself under his breath as he placed his hand on the activation key within his palm as the vehicle touched one of the soldiers. In fear of the dustriction of the eruption Jamel ran toward his bag, covering his body. The sound of expiration overwhelming a being's life and the echoing of flesh ripping apart rapidly. The furrious tones of the end of ones life in a terrifying manner. Such tormentful conclusions to ones life, but it was an avenging method of this sadistic, twisted explosion. To avenge the Republic and its order, to return the crown of the kingpins of the galaxy back to the Republic Head.

Jamel came to a stand, his hand tightened around his leather materailed package. Grinding his teeth as his head ran over his shoulder, inspecting the remains of the explosion. Their were few remaining within the vacinity of the flesh-ripping detonation eruption. Their were still many alive, and their was no-way he could hold it off alone.

Rushing to the hill top, he dodged laser beams that flew his way in the middle of all this struggle to venture out of their range to defend himself. Grabbing the top of the sand covered hill, he pulled himself to the top, rolling along. Surveying the altercation over his shoulder, he watched the men struggle their way up too. Rushing ahead he felt the sensation of pain run through his arm as a laser beam grazed it. Falling into a struggling stummble, he came to a near fall upon the surface, it would have been his end if it wasn't for a sudden arrival of a helpful arm. Reaching out and grasping him at the mid-chest area he was placed atop the swoop bike to depart the area as the sound of weaponly equiped speeders and swoop bikes ran through the opposite side of Jamel.

The being who had grasped him was heading far away from the confrontation, allowing the figh to draw on and continue until their was a definate victor.

Jamel peeked back once more, and he fall quickly into an unconscious rest..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awakening to the smell of mourning air, which he could remember like the back of his hand when it acme to the Tattonie atomsphere. Rolling in on his bed, he heard the sound of commotion come from the entrance of the room.

A man headed into the room, he was the Bothan who had gave him the propsal. He had in his hand a fruit of some sort for the boy to eat.

Wyl sat onto the bed, disrupticing the sleep of the young boy. Turning the boy over so that he could gape at his surrondings. The Bothan smiled down at him, placing the apple similar item down upon the boy's abdomen to eat.

"The republic fleet managed to destroy the base and many of the opponents fleet, but we didn't manage to take the area over, nor did the Imperails so its an open land for either of us, so its reasonable to say that another battle could rage on Tattonie. The remains of our men were attacked by Tusken Raiders before we could finish off the Imperails. None of our men truly had the ability to fight against the Tusken's as all our ships had been damaged, and the men were battiered and beaten. We only have 1/4 of our men that survived, I dont know about the fraction of our competetiors. You also did well out there, after you get a bit of sleep, we gotta go somewhere for another mission. We have some conflict on with one of our Generals. We need him here at the scene to help us create a base here, a garrison much like the Imperail. But you shouldn't worry your little head about that yet, just go to sleep.."

I glared at the holographic image of the young once-Ensign-now-field-advanced-Lieutenant I had left in command of the garrison... or rather, from what he was saying, what was left of it.

"We followed up on your orders, Sir," he was saying, gasping just a bit, his gleaming battle armor smirched with carbon scoring and laser creases. "But they-- they had air support. How the hell--"

He cut himself off, making an obvious effort to gain his self-control back again and be the professional I knew him to be. He did not fail me in this, even though what he had to say appeared to be the revelation of defeat.

"We-- we were hit hard, Sir," he finally managed, then straightened. "The garrison is pretty much destroyed; we lost quite a few good men today..." Again a brief pause, then he went on, his expression turning stony.

"But they didn't get away scot-free; we managed to take down a good fifty percent of their offenses, and from what our little friend here says, the Tuskens took about another half of what was left." He now moved aside... to reveal a familiar face. I merely drew in a deep breath, and waited to see who would now continue, the Lieutenant or the Bothan who had come to us earlier.

I didn't have to muse long over this question. "I'm sorry I didn't get the information to you in time for you to prepare more heavily," the lady spy said in a raspy whisper. "That was unforgivable; let me make amends by offerring you something in recompense, if I may so attempt...."

I steepled my hands against my helmet, and remained inscrutable. She apparently took that as an affirmative, for before I could draw another breath or the Lieutenant could say another word she burst forth with but two items of interest: the name of the Bothan who had implemented this attack...

...and the location where he and the ragtag remnants of his troops were hiding.

I waited a few moments when she fell silent, then nodded to her. "Is her ship repaired?" I asked, tilting my head slightly to let the Lieutenant know I was directing the question to him. He shook his head.

"Not yet, Sir. We're waiting on some parts--"

I just nodded again.

"Very well, you may cancel the repair order at this time. But before you do, there is something I want you to do first...."

I then gave the young and rising military star implicit orders to take his remaining troops in hand and storm the location the Bothan had just imparted unto us... but stealthily. Ye gods, enough is enough with the flaming bursts of blasters and lasers... that would be taken care of forthwith, but I wanted to be certain this Bothan insurrectionist was taken first, and taken alive. Lt. Zhurelle was then to report back....

Later:

"Mission accomplished," the Lieutenant said smartly as his holographic image stood in satisfied salute before me. I nodded grimly.

"And these are the coordinates where they were operating from?" I repeated a string of numerals. He nodded an affirmative.

"Very well, Lieutenant. Now, if you would be so kind as to take the two prisoners... this Bothan and, who did you say it was? Some kid?! A 'Jamel' Something-or-other...."

I couldn't help but shake my head. This is a nek-eat-nek enough of a universe as it is; now Rebel scum were corrupting little kids....

I straightened.

"I want you to personally see to their arrival aboard Subjugator, Lieutenant. I'll have detention cells waiting. And bring the lady spy along as well, I think we just might find a use for her. Please don't forget to tractor her ship with you as well. We can begin repairs aboard Subjugator, and if more intricate work is needed it can be accomplished on Coruscant."

I may be turning more and more to that nekside of the universe anymore, but after all, a promise is a promise.

"Carry on," I finished, then turned to initiate Phase Two...

...which was over in the blink of an eye. Down on the dusty surface of Tatooine, a certain nondescript home, said home full of the remaining and now sleeping rebels, was targeted by Subjugator's onboard lasers. I myself didn't even blink as I enabled the control which sent death ravening down from the sky, an blast of pure energy seeming to have come from the gods themselves...

...which impacted the house and utterly destroyed it, killing each and every last one of the rebels sleeping within.

I nodded, then activated my private comm-link to Actar.

"Excuse me, Admiral," I began when he came online. "Tarnus here, Sir. You may wish to send out some heavy ships to Tatooine space, Admiral; not only to we have a recalcitrant Hutt on our hands, but there are some Rebel riffraff running about tooting their little horns rather too loudly. The base was destroyed... but can be rebuilt sir, as they did not take control of the situation.

"Suffice it to say that was their mistake; I have taken two prisoners, one of them their leader, and... eliminated the remainder. I am inbound to Coruscant with these two, along with our impersonator, Jaz Corona.

"Lieutenant Ghorn Zhurelle will be in charge of maintaining order until reinforcements arrive; although this garrison may be without much of a physical headquarters and may be lessened in troops, it is in capable hands. I do not hesitate to depart at this time, Sir."

I waited a few moments longer, receiving the Admiral's reply and counter-command to me.

"Very well, Sir," I nodded my head in respect. "ETA in seventeen hours; it will be good to see you again, Sir.

"And yes, I haven't forgotten about that ship."

I then closed the connection, and went to the detention cells to check on the arrival of the two new prisoners. As before, their transport aboard was flawlessly executed; I found them both in individual and quite featureless heavy security cells, dressed in flimsy paperine prisoner's garb. I smiled at them through the tiny view-slit in the otherwise solid durasteel doors they each found themselves behind, even though they couldn't see it.

Then I turned away, nodding to the Gaoler in Charge, and proceeded to escort Lieutenant-soon-to-be-Captain Zhurelle back to his waiting mini-transport, that he could proceed back to Mos Eisley and begin the uncovetable task of rebuilding the garrison to its former strength. That accomplished, I gave the order to get us underway for Coruscant, and Subjugator was soon lost amidst the heady star-smears of hyperspace.

Then I headed to my quarters, to find something for the killer headache I was starting to get, and to catch a little sleep before turning my attention once again to the destroyer's newly invited "guests."

No Food..
No Love..
Nothing..

Jamel's teeth gnashed against each other as if trying to rip his teeth apart in a showcase of his fury. The young boy swung his hand toward the adamantine materailed. The collision created a echoe through the four walls as he slid down pathetically to the floor.

Tears rolled down his tender, youthful flesh, splashing down onto the surface. He couldn't take such pain, such fear. The slavery that he had to deal with at his early age, the laying in condensed, filthy places. It was a nightmare he never wanted to return to. He wanted to save those of whom couldn't see the light, and bliss of the mourning because they were in factories working for the goverment.

Jamel couldn't handle that. He just couldn't..

Then came yet another horrid blow tot he wall creating a small indintation from the powerful collision. His body slid down the wall to a sitting position, falling into silence. The strenght from his bruised soft hands was lost on that blow, and so was his hope. His head hung down in solemniness, and a tears quickly ran along his cheeks continiously, such as a rain from the sky on a darkened day. The gloom of the uncharacterized room created the atomsphere, but the tears broke through the silence with its splash of thunder, and moisture of rain.

Fear was on his face, as much as the storm in a sky.

"I want my mom, I want my life, I want my freedom."