I didn't drop my guard in the slightest.

"Before she died Ms. Corona admitted she had obtained the Imperial uniform she was caught in from the Hutts," I began without preamble. "This is not something the Hutts are normally wont to do, not unless there is something big in the ensuing picture for them. They have been sleazing about the Outer Rim areas long enough, just beyond the reach of any... legalities which might otherwise bring them to their collective knees."

I paused a moment, letting my words sink in. The Jedi hadn't moved a muscle from his position, simply remaining on his knees looking down toward the floor. I continued.

"You may not believe this, but the Empire is not what you think. We do not seek a stranglehold; we only desire order for all. Order comes harshly at times, Mr. Arakeen, but not stupidly. While we are maintaining order by blockades, we are not indulging in the overkill that many might assume we would.

"I want you to arrange that the connection between the Hutts and that missing spice shipment, as well as that of why they would give an Imperial officer's uniform and id to an information smuggler, brought to light beyond a reasonable doubt. The Hutts hold on Tatooine will fall, Mr. Arakeen... but legally, and that missing spice shipment will be found.

"In exchange for this, you shall live. You shall submit to the well-known Tatooine slave-holding implant as well. Otherwise... well, it's a pity, but I see no other recourse but to order your immediate execution as cohort and strategist to one already executed for treason to the Empire."

--------------------

It will have to wait until I find a way out of here.

He wiped away sweat and tears from his face as he thought about what the officer was saying.

Grakko must have given Jaz a fake ID...why? The Hutt wanted the spice back, even though he and his 'partners' already have a steady supply...unless...

Paul clenched his fists. "He wanted to get rid of me." he muttered to himself.

The fat slug had me kill the spice smuggler...make me the scrapegoat instead of him. Damn Hutt knew they would kill Jaz, and sent her anyway... The Jedi finally realized what he had to do.

"The Hutts," Paul began to say aloud, each word he spoke with hard control over his anger, "Always work together in spice smuggling, as the profits benefits all their business on Tatooine. But when threatened with being caught, they hide or eliminate all evidence of their contacts...except..."

He turned around and faced the door the officer was speaking from. He stared ahead, his eyes filled with the rage that had replaced his sense of justice. "The Hutt I was working for, Grakko, always had a rusty protocol droid holding all the data records of spice shipments with the other Hutts."

Paul took a step forward. "I'll get the information you need...but no slave-holding implant. The Hutt doesn't allow slaves in his territory...plus I don't trust you the same way you don't trust me."

"But we have a common enemy that needs to be stopped. You say the Empire desires order? So do the Jedi. Though I have given up my duties as one, I still hold onto the principles that I swore upon."

Paul waited for his reply.

--------------------

Rusty protocol droid, ey? I mused to myself, silently thanking Mr. Arakeen for that tidy bit of voluntary information. A droid such as that wouldn't be too difficult to get hold of, now that I knew about it. It would really be a prudent move to just execute the man now and be done with it.

But that wasn't how the Empire was working nowadays. Truly I had nothing with which to hold the man, other than his circumstantial connection to the executed impersonator. If I ordered his death at this point I would only be overstepping that fine line between an empire in the truest sense of the word, and a dictatorship.

Which was not what the esteemed Admiral was trying to portray, in spite of the rampant and widespread disbelief so prevalent in the galaxy concerning it.

I nodded imperceptibly.

"Very well, Mr. Arakeen," I replied at length. "You shall go to Tatooine without the slave implant. But know this."

I paused, watching him carefully. He didn't move much, but somehow I got the impression that his every sense was adhered to me, somehow knowing what I was going to say before the words left my lips.

"Should you stray from this arrangement, and not return with that droid, then I'm afraid there will be a very quick and formal inquiry into the death of your padawan. An inquiry which will find you guilty, of course. You will be branded as a true renegade jedi, Mr. Arakeen; every bounty hunter in the galaxy will be on your trail, as will the Empire, to return you to Coruscant to face your summary execution for murder."

With that I turned from the man entirely, letting my booted footsteps ring hollowly in the corridors of the detention center as I returned to its command center. There I gave the necessary orders for his release -- still in a Force cage; I wasn't born yesterday -- and transportation to Tatooine.

"He is to be taken into the out-fringes of Tatooine space, and released in a Lambda-class shuttle, properly denuded of any armament. It is to be set on a course to land on Tatooine; when that shuttle is within half a billion klicks, enable this remote release mechanism."

I held a crystal out to the Captain of the Command Center. It shone in his gloved hand, glittering black as night against the leather.

"You shall immediately depart into hyperspace, and retreat to a safe distance. From there you shall monitor his progress, and retrieve him when he calls. If at that time he does not submit to being placed once more into a Force cage...

"Shoot him."

With that I turned on my heel and left, knowing the orders were being put into effect before I had even made it as far as the corridor beyond.

--------------------

There it was, plain as the trunk on a Kubaz's ugly face, the letters of it glowing a steady creamy yellow against the ebon of the monitor I was scowling into:

Galen.

Jhin'Dar.

Danner.

Suddenly... alive.

And that named followed soon thereafter by JhinDarra Jhin'Dar, age 16, deceased.

Deceased... and...

Sixteen?

I didn't realize it would hit me as hard as it did until the actual blades of fire and ice those words provoked stabbed deeply into my heart, prompting images of a pair I remembered as if yesterday lining up in my sites, then zooming into closer proximity as I looked down into wide blue eyes and pulled that trigger yet again.

How--?

Then the rest of the information came across, and the fire and ice erupted into something approximating outrage.

Damn that vixen has more lives than a sandcat! I spat to myself, tears suddenly coming into my eyes, not really knowing if they were tears of anger that I had been misled by what simply had to be a set of clones, tears of utter joy that she wasn't dead by my hand after all...

...or tears that the child indeed truly was. At least according to this transmission.

I sniffed behind my helmet, re-ran the transmission in its entirety and scrutinized it carefully. I then saved it to my personal files, and turned to another, much shorter and far more hurried one.

That one was dealt with more easily, granted, although I was beginning to wish Admiral Actar would come out of whatever hidey-hole he had placed himself in to lend a hand. Yes, rank doth have it's privileges, but suddenly the Galaxy was beginning to heat up just a touch.

And I knew I wasn't going to be here for a bit to respond to those flames.

I sent another transmission to Actar, informing him of the surprise attack on Tatooine, and of the fact that I had just ordered the employment of two more fleets of destroyers, accompanied by two SSDs, to investigate and help the beleaguered forces already battling this unknown there. Informed him as well of the shady dealings involving our stolen spice shipment, and that ex-Jedi Paul Arakeen was now acting in our stead regarding it.

Mentioned that I had business to attend to elsewhere, and that I would proceed with all alacrity regarding it, that I could return to Coruscant in all due haste.

Flicked off the transmission entirely, rose, and without so much as another thought departed for the private hangar housing Ransacker.

En route I ran into none other than the little spy I had sent out on a truncated mission. She seemed extremely... persistent in her efforts to speak to me, remaining remarkably close-mouthed as to the subject, and only finally letting one word drip from her lips when it became apparent that I was going to dismiss her entirely in my haste to get to my ship.

Sith.

That froze me momentarily, and I pinned my visor on her. She remained staunchly before me, clamming up once again.

I literally sighed in small defeat, and growled the name of a planet.

"Meet me there," I snorted, then turned and continued on my way.

Soon I had gained both my ship and an emergency departure vector. Then, flanked by twin Imperial fighters, I fled from Coruscant and into the depths of space. Once there, I hit the switch, and stars stopped in their tracks to then smear out into the heart-rending streaks of hyperdriven space.

I had a couple of worlds I needed to visit... personally.

Ransacker howled, but not nearly as loudly as my thoughts.

((OOC: Follow me to If Wishes Were Horses in the "CSWU" forums. For background info pertaining to my arrival on Sullust, please read Knight Takes Queen, Check; also, get background info on Minna in Catch a Falling Star, all in the same forums, thank you.))

[ 01-04-2003 03:01 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------