[Fic] The Birth of the Republic

[machievelli]

REVELATION

 

By recording every incident, and having each of the four seekers either present to witness, or view the video records afterward, the process of proving what a Jedi could or could not do took only two days.

 

Not that they were not interesting days…

 

Sienna sat in the chair as a guard came in. Before her was a questionnaire. She went down the list. As the man answered the questions, she marked the paper. When she was done, she handed it to the guard.

 

He stepped out, handing it to Seeker Colosoro.

 

“How did she do?”

 

The technician who had compiled the questionnaire said. “Three wrong. Oh it was good for any interrogator, but for them to be living lie detectors, it was a failure.”

 

Colosoro looked at the guard. “You lied.” He said to the guard. “Question fourteen. Do I have any sisters. I had a sister named Saltiri. But she died when my mother miscarried her in the sixth month. But I did not remember her until after the questionnaire was compiled.” The guard hesitated “Sir, what I am about to say is admission of guilt.” The guard said.

 

Colosoro nodded. By the laws of Kerridor, his memory was admissible as evidence. He also had the authority to have the young man fired or arrested. “Continue.”

 

“I lied about my age when I originally entered the Security Forces. I was a year younger than I claimed; the questionnaire lists my age according to my records. Also…” He flinched. “My younger brother was part of a protest when the last administration tried to destroy a neighborhood to build a government annex building. I was able to remove him from the scene before he could be arrested.”

 

Colosoro nodded. “So noted. Has your brother committed an act against good order since that time?”

 

“No sir. Seeing people being killed for protesting made sure he remembered that lesson.”

 

Colosoro looked at the tech. “She got every one. Even the ones we didn’t know were true.”

 

“Security officer Beroli, if your brother ever commits a crime, my record of your statement will be used as evidence of criminal conspiracy. So keep you eye on him.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Dismissed.”

 

Beroli had just reached the door when Colosoro spoke again, “Oh, and Beroli.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Go to records, and tell them that on my authority, you are to alter your age to the correct date.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Dismissed.”

 

*****

 

Dushin felt the sword in his hand. “Padawan Dushin, you must traverse 100 meters of hall from there to the office I am in.” Seeker Magnian said over the com link. “There are defenses you must bypass, both living and automated systems.

 

“Begin when-“

 

On the first syllable, Dushin moved. He was running down the hall as a weapon turret dropped from the ceiling. He leaped foot hitting the wall even with his head, his speed making him literally flip in midair, and his next two steps were on that ceiling as his sword ripped through the turret before the gun had even begun tracking.

 

His foot shoved, and the gravity fall became a leap as he hit the floor, rolling into a one handed handstand, his right foot snapping out to kick a security guard in the chest as he stepped from an alcove. He thrust with the arm that held him, leaping now backward, ducking under the barrel of the gun the man on the opposite alcove. He foot swept the man, snatching the gun from his hands, then the blade snapped by and it fell in pieces.

 

Dushin turned, and the bullet that would have struck between his shoulders ricocheted, the sensor below the turret barrel shattering as the deflected bullet hit. Two men leaped out past the disabled turret, raising their weapons. It was fifteen meters to them, and they were sure they would have plenty of time.

 

Dushin reached with the Force. One moment he was there, fifteen meters away. The next he landed between them. The sword snapped left and right, guns falling in pieces as Dushin walked away from them. He looked at the door they had been guarding, turned, motioned the guard on his right aside, and opened it.

 

Seeker Magnian looked up. “Impressive, sir.”

 

“So was your gauntlet. When this is over, perhaps the Order can have you design one like it for us?”

 

*****

 

Toorio was unarmed. Beside him, Seeker leader Shan waved toward the thirty meter hall. “Down at that end are four men rated as snipers by our military. On my command, they will aim and fire upon you. What you must do is avoid getting hit by them. Is the test understood?”

 

The Duros looked down the hall. “You mean like this?”

 

Suddenly he was just gone. Vanished as if he had been a hologram. There was a thudding sound, and Shan spun to stare. He thought he saw something, a figure running, but even as he thought that, one of the men down there started to aim his rifle. But the figure was there, snatching it from his hands and sweeping his legs from under him. The other three turned, stunned that their compatriot seemed injured, then all three flew as if a bomb had gone off among them.

 

Toorio stood there, a rifle held by the barrel in his hands, looking down at them. Then he looked down the hall at Shan. “I hope your cameras caught all of that.”

 

Shan sighed. “I meant for you to dodge bullets rather than what you have displayed.”

 

“I am sorry, Seeker Leader. There was no mention that your men would be firing in sequence at me. With four men firing simultaneously, I did what I thought was appropriate.”

 

Shan reviewed the conversation. “You are correct, sir. What condition would make it easier to dodge bullets?”

 

Forty minutes later, with one sniper standing fifty meters away down a longer hall, Toorio again took the test. The man had orders to aim, and when he felt he had a target, to fire. A line had been drawn, and Toorio was safe until he crossed it. The Duros took a deep breath, then moved. The gun cracked, and the bullet hit the wall behind Toorio. He didn’t run this time. He merely walked briskly. But he moved, left, right, ducking leaping, each time an instant before the crack of the weapon. The sniper dumped his ten round magazine slamming another in, and continued firing. These also hit the hall behind the Duros rather than his target.

 

The guard grabbed a third magazine, but Shan’s voice called a halt.

 

The Seeker Leader stepped back into the hall. “How are you able to do that?”

 

“Like all of what we do, an explanation will be of little use. What I feel is where the man has aimed his weapon, and when he decides to pull the trigger. As a policeman covering a dangerous suspect would know that the man plans to do something, but highly honed. If you will unload your weapon, and once it is aim it toward us, sir?” He said to the last at the guard. “Pick a spot, and be prepared to fire.”

 

The guard aimed, and Toorio had his hand even with his chest. “Change target and again.” This time, his hand was cupped below his abdomen at his left leg. He did this ten times, as if dealing with another magazine of ammunition. “That is where the man aimed and pulled the trigger.”

 

“Is that correct?”

 

The guard nodded. “With live rounds I have never missed since I was sniper rated. He ruined that record twenty

times today, sir.”

 

*****

 

Seeker Colosoro went to Mandalore to speak with the Mandalore and Clan Treiaga to verify the time she had spent there. As Sienna’s behest, he had gone in the courier Darshan and Holani Solo. Since it was the same class as Metal Heroes, he would get an accurate appraisal of how long it took to get from planet to planet. Seeker Alyanna had gone to Salamari station to verify the events there.

 

Sword Master Pieter Wu entered the room, bowing to the seekers still on the planet. “I have studied the footage you gave me, but it was not enough for more than an opinion.”

 

Seeker leader Shan sniffed. Seekers by their very nature held no opinions, it interfered with their investigations. “We cannot prove or disprove by an opinion, Master Wu. If you cannot give us more data, we must discount the information.”

 

Wu sighed. “Please bring up the hologram you sent to me.”

 

Shan tapped the controls. The killer stood between two guards. Suddenly she moved with lethal efficiency. Then a leap forward, the Premier dying, then the pause.

 

“The style is similar but not the same as that taught by the Jedi.” A voice spoke in mid air. Toorio.

 

“Almost as if choreographed.” Another said. Sienna.

 

“All attack, no defense.” Another said. Dushin.

 

Why did she pause?” The last voice, that of Brea said.

 

Wu looked up, waving at the people who had spoken, but were not there. “These four know their own style, as I know the Echani style I have practiced all my life. This woman-“ He motioned toward the now still hologram, “-uses elements of both of those styles. Since one was derived from the other, that is not surprising. But there are elements of a third style. A style I have never seen.”

 

“Explain.”

 

Wu took out a data disc, sliding it into a slot on the desk. Now he stood where the woman had been, surrounded by her targets. He moved, and struck. He was not as fast as the assassin had been. But his movements were as clean as hers. The seekers leaned forward, intently witnessing the event.

 

“As Padawan Dodonna said, the entire scene looks choreographed. The movements are fast and clean, but at the same time rehearsed. But in a way, fighting with a sword is a dance, because all of the moves are ingrained until they are automatic.

 

“Swordsmanship is trained; you do one thing a certain way because that is what your teacher taught you. Repetition makes it smoother, and more fluid. While training, you begin to combine movements, going from thrust to block to riposte to guard as you judge in your own mind which way is best for you.

 

“This woman moved not with the deeply ingrained flow of a trained warrior, but within a very narrow range of such things. Within it, everything flowed smoothly until she faced our Lady Premier.”

 

Again the hologram moved. It reached the enguarde position at the end of the killing, and it stopped. “Look here, the muscles of the arms and legs. The training is trying to force her to attack yet she is resisting it. The Lady Premier was not part of that programming, and the assassin resists killing her.”

 

The voice came, filled with a cold pressure as if being forced from a deep well. “Please.” She whispered. “By all the gods, run!”

 

The holo stopped again. “Like a blade she was created in this form for only one purpose, to kill the Premier. But whoever did it did not take into account that his wife would be there.” He shrugged. “But that is my opinion from what I have seen. It would be easier to test this by using what you have on hand.” He looked at the Seeker Leader slyly. “After all, you have four Jedi here to assist you.”

 

*****

 

Breia stood as the guards came for her. There were four men, all armed with assault rifles, who stood back far enough that she could not attack them. The leader of the group brought out a pair of shackles. “This is procedure, Padawan. It is not meant as an insult.” She extended her arms, and allowed him to cuff her. She walked out and they proceeded, two ahead, and two behind down the hall toward the lift.

She rode silently in the back of the van as it roared across the city. In the back with her, two men watched, ready to shoot her instantly.

 

The entourage entered one of the smaller buildings of the justice center. They entered a large room that looked like a flat auditorium. Seeker Leader Shan nodded to her. His associates were already there.

“Padawan, we are going to observe the assassination. We have listened to your comments, and we wish clarification. Please.” He motioned for her to stand with them. She walked over, standing demurely with them as the holo sprang to life. Her chest caught with pain as she saw what looked like her murder three men in less than five seconds.

 

“Would you like to see it again?” Shan asked quietly when the holo had spoken to the only survivor.

She shook her head slowly. “I have had nightmares about that since I saw it at my trial.” She said. “Trying to explain how I could not have been here hours earlier. I was in hyperspace headed here, but I have no evidence you would accept.”

He took pity on her. “Our system seems harsh, Padawan, but we have discovered it is easier to accuse than to merely find the truth it. If lies must stand with truth, the truth will prove more weighty and rare. That is why the Seekers were formed, and our creed is truth can be seen touched, and tested.” He played the pad recording of her own words. “Why did her stopping surprise you?”

 

“It would have taken less than three more seconds to kill her as well.” Breia said. “Yet this assassin hesitated. I have seen those that have been controlled by our capabilities. They will resist if they can, but only where there is no order that covers what has occurred.”

 

“Controlling minds.” Magnian said. “It sounds like a horror story of childhood.”

 

Breia looked at him. Then her head turned toward the closest guard. “Please empty and safe your weapon.” She said.

 

“Padawan?” Shan looked at her.

 

“I have been told by Sienna of how we must prove our capabilities for you to accept them. I hope to prove this with no one being in danger.”

 

The guard looked at Shan who nodded. He drew his sidearm, emptied and safed it, and returned it to its holster. Breia smiled, then looked at the man, and her voice dropped to a soft slightly breathless tone. “One of the men behind me is really the killer. But he will resist. You must shoot him, because if you do not, he will escape.”

Shan stared as the guard drew his weapon. He looked confused, and his hand reached for the removed magazine.

 

“No.” She said softly. “You reloaded it after I tested you. Shoot him.”

The man looked confused again, but he raised his arm, the weapon at full extension aimed at Shan. He paused, then the weapon tracked right to Magnian. It held on target, his finger straining to pull the trigger. Then it tracked back. “He has to die… But…” The weapon tracked back toward Magnian. “He must…” The weapon dropped from his hands. Breia moved forward, catching his hands as he started to reach for his head.

 

“No. You have done your duty. The killer has been captured. Come back.”

 

The man shook his head, then stared at her in horror. “I…” He stared at Shan. “I was ready to kill you. But you… you weren’t the one. Neither of you was.”

 

“This is called a mind trick. I could make him think what I wish him to for a time. But the way I worded it, there was a conflict. I did not say, ‘Shoot this one’. I said ‘shoot the man’. With two men, he could not be forced to kill one of you. He had to chose which to kill, and his own innate sense of justice would not allow him to kill the wrong man.” She tousled his hair. “I am sorry, sir.” She looked at Shan. “Whomever created that poor deluded creature assumed the Premier would have guards. If there had been others, I would assume they were also part of the list of those to die. But The Premier’s wife was not part of it.

 

“If he met her as Premier with all of his allies, one set of rules, alone with guards, another. If the wife had been here with the allies, she would be dead too. She was with her husband alone, and that was not considered. It is a small loophole, but enough to keep her alive. That girl-“ She waved toward where the hologram had been. “-Spared your Lady Premier’s life because she had not been ordered to kill her.”

 

“Not enough time.” Magnian snarled. Breia looked at him. Then looked at one of the guards.

 

“Get me something that could be used to pretend to be a sword please.”

 

A guard went out, coming back with a meter and a half length of conduit. She took it, swinging it experimentally. “Rerun the hologram, one of you please time it. Another stand over there.” She pointed. “Where the survivor was when the attack began.”

 

She paced over, and with her standing there the hologram appeared again. “Now.” She said. As the holo came to life, she moved. Strike, strike, both guards already dead. If anything she moved faster than the holo. Strike, the Premier falling. Then she moved; one instant she was striking the Premier, the next instant she was standing in front of the man standing in for Janeen who had not even had a chance to react. She tapped him on the shoulder with the thin tube.

She handed it to the man, turning to the Seekers. “Do you understand now? If everyone in the room had to die, any of us could have killed them all and nothing would have stopped us.”

 

*****

 

Sienna Dodonna walked into the room. Three men were there, two men acting as the bodyguards, another acting as the dead Premier. A woman stood behind the desk. Even though every man in this little re-creation wore ballistic cloth coverings that would stop a bullet or average sword cut, that didn’t mean that being struck with a kilo or more of weight swung by someone who knew what they were doing didn’t hurt.

 

She moved, leaping up and forward, past the guards, landing in front of the Premier. She tapped him on the chest with her finger and said ‘gotcha’ as she spun, sword out. The guards lasted less than a second. She turned to look at the woman, and bowed.

 

The seekers stared. None of the Jedi had repeated the movements of the assassin. Each had found their own way to carry out that faux assassination, and each had been highly efficient. Padawan Toorio had thrown both ‘guards’ away using nothing but the Force, ‘killed’ both Premier and Janeen then walked out leaving the guards alive.

Dushin had come in going from talking to killing in less than a second, killed the three that had died, leaped using that same capability all of the Jedi had shown, and touched the ‘woman’ not with his blade, but with his hand as Sienna had done earler.

 

The tests were sobering. A man willing to die to protect his ‘principle’ doesn’t like to think he died in vain, but each of the Jedi were too good for them to stop. The guards assigned to protect them watched with dawning horror. If a Jedi had been assigned to kill those they had sworn to protect, nothing would save them from the attack…

[Bee Hoon]

Very, very nice! I love the incredible amount of detail about the investigations! The way you portray the Jedi is as they really are, deadly warriors who do not misuse that skill.I have to say this is my favourite chapter so far. Keep up the great work!

[Empress Padme]

I'm beginning to think under the word masterpiece is your name .Laughs,chills,drama.Is there ANYTHING you can't do.

[machievelli]

Is there ANYTHING you can't do.

 

FInd an agent so I can sell it. That's the one thing I haven't been able to do yet

[Reclaimer]

FInd an agent so I can sell it. That's the one thing I haven't been able to do yet

 

Have you tried Dark Horse? They take ALOT of Star Wars stories, if that's your aim.

[machievelli]

Have you tried Dark Horse? They take ALOT of Star Wars stories, if that's your aim.

 

Actually asked Dark Horse if they'd be interested in my novelization of KOTOR, since they had just started their own KOTOR set in a different period. But never got a reply.

[Reclaimer]

Actually asked Dark Horse if they'd be interested in my novelization of KOTOR, since they had just started their own KOTOR set in a different period. But never got a reply.

 

That sucks. Alot of good novels go un-noticed. It's a shame really.

[machievelli]

That sucks. Alot of good novels go un-noticed. It's a shame really.

 

tell me about it. There's a story online about a writer who had just had his latest work bought. Just out of curiosity, he used his computer, changed the name, changed the author, and sent it to the same publisher as from this fictitious writer.

 

Imagine his surprise when the second submission was rejected with a long rambling discourse on everything he had done wrong, and a request that he never send anything again.

[Reclaimer]

tell me about it. There's a story online about a writer who had just had his latest work bought. Just out of curiosity, he used his computer, changed the name, changed the author, and sent it to the same publisher as from this fictitious writer.

 

Imagine his surprise when the second submission was rejected with a long rambling discourse on everything he had done wrong, and a request that he never send anything again.

 

I've heard about that, almost J.D Robb like. Just keep trying man, and if I hear anything about people looking for stories, I'll let you know.

[Empress Padme]

Well Dark Horse's lose is our gain. I'd read your work even if I had to pay to read it.Stupid publishers

[machievelli]

LAST EVIDENCE

 

Breia stood as the guards came for her. There were now nine men, all but one armed with assault rifles. The leader of the group came in. She extended her arms, and allowed him to cuff her. She walked out, the men moving back farther than they had that first time, far enough that she would have had to move with more than even Jedi speed to overwhelm them all. But after two days of watching the Jedi run roughshod over them, these men were nervous even with her in shackles.

 

A4’s attack had borne some fruit. Instead of putting her in the prison itself, with it’s rows of barred windows and relatively thin walls, the cells being used by all of the Jedi were in an old military bunker that would need a full power missile strike with a live warhead to shatter. Even Sienna and Toorio were here, though after the first day their cells were not locked. A dozen gun cutters circled as she was led into a lift van.

 

She was curious when they landed not at the Justice center, but at the local military base. Her ship sat beside Sienna’s in a bombproof hanger, with only the personnel door powered up. It would take a trip to the circuit box on the outside the building a hundred meters away to move the massive entrance door. Seeker Alyanna came down the ramp, and stopped watching her walk toward the ship.

 

“I thank you for the loan of your ship Padawan.” Alyanna said. “The records from Salamari station were thought provoking.”

 

“How were the others? Wolort and Sarisha?”

 

“They had left before I arrived on a transport. The Twi-leks informed me that except for a small amount of bruising they were not seriously injured.” Alyanna cocked her head. “Why do you care? Defending yourself is not a crime while flight to avoid prosecution is. After all every record states that Wolort not only hates you, but tried to kill you rather than capture you. I would be hard pressed to balance the two.”

 

“From what I have seen of your fellow Seekers, I find that hard to believe.” Breia commented dryly. “Besides Sarisha held no animosity toward me, and even Wolort is only following his own nature. I am glad the incident did not kill them.” She motioned toward the other woman. “Why have I been brought here?”

 

“I needed your assistance with some comparison, Padawan Solo. If you will?” She motioned toward the ship. Breia felt a rush of nostalgia and pain at the sight of that interior. The ship was like an old trusty blanket, and she wished she could grab its metal hull, and wrap herself in it, avoid the nightmare of the last weeks.

 

They went to the cockpit. “Please, take the command chair, Padawan.” She looked at the woman for a long moment, then caught the command chair, spun it on its pintel, and sat.

 

Alyanna held out a pad. “This is a record we received from your own Grand Council which is proof unless refuted that Sienna Dodonna was a conspirator with you in the Premier’s death. I wish you to watch it, and when you feel capable, repeat it verbatim while your eyes are on the video pick up.”

 

Breia took it, watching as her own voice condemned Sienna. “Why Tangera?” She asked. “That’s not in the box.”

 

“I have noticed that term used by both you and Padawan Dodonna. ‘The Captain’s Box’. What does it mean?”

 

“Oh, just military slang. All Navies have the equivalent, but it’s called the Captain’s Box in the Corellian Navy. Every Captain is given a list of planets that can be used for training, far enough away from the usual shipping lines that it is unlikely that you will be disturbed, yet close enough to be a good place to strike from if necessary. Or if you need to hide it is a system with a lot of traffic but little or no ground control for arrivals and departures.

 

“We worked together for almost a year and when she mentioned the practice, we created the equivalent for every sector we might be assigned to. Tangera was on that list until two months ago.”

 

“Why was it removed?”

 

“Weifarn corporation of Coruscant. They discovered large deposits of rare metals in the asteroid belt. They moved in extractors and crews for them, with a security force. Nothing enters without them checking it out thoroughly.” She looked at the still holo figure pensively. “When A4 broke us out of here, I chose Salamari Station.”

 

“But-“ Alyanna’s eyes widened. “Mining the planet for atmospheric elements. Little or not traffic control, with a lot of traffic not part of the normal business.”

 

“Exactly.” Breia turned, “Recording.” She sighed. “Sienna, if you hear this I am in trouble. I carried out the assassination as instructed, but the masters never considered the security systems the Premier of Kerridor had in place. I did not get away clean. I will need your assistance in creating my alibi. Meet me in Tangera. Breia out.”

 

*****

 

Breia Solo looked out of two different screens. The face was the same, the location was the same, the words exactly the same.

 

But they were not. Alyanna stared at the two pictures. Something about them was different on a fundamental level. But she could not figure out why. Maybe… She turned, touching the intercom control.

 

“Government center, Annex two. Reya Folori speaking.”

 

“This is Seeker Alyanna. I need to use the old theater and the assistance of some technicians there.”

 

The red haired woman turned, looking at her monitor. “The theater will be available from 1500 hours on, Seeker. Will that be soon enough?”

 

“Yes. Have the technicians com me here in my office.”

 

“At once Seeker.”

 

*****

 

About thirty years earlier, there had been a renaissance in flat screen image entertainment. Projectors threw pictures on a phosphor screen, images large enough that a human was readily identifiable at sixty meters from the screen, and looked to be the same height as the viewer.

 

Caught in one of their endless ‘we’re spending this money for your own good’ binges, the administration had wanted to do something ‘for the people’ to prove it. They had gutted an ancient theater, and rebuilt it within Government Annex building two, a huge cubical storage building. The interest had waned before the reinstallation was complete, but funded by the government it had been completed before they had merely closed it off.

 

Reya Folori had assured that the theater was pristine. Alyanna walked down the aisle, sitting directly in the center ten rows back from the screen. She lifted her com link. “Begin clip one.”

 

Breia Solo, looking disheveled. “Sienna, if you hear this I am in trouble. I carried out the assassination as instructed, but the masters never considered the security systems the Premier of Kerridor had in place. I did not get away clean. I will need your assistance in creating my alibi. Meet me in Tangera. Breia out.”

 

“Clip two.”

 

Breia Solo, hands down so the manacles were not visible, repeating the same words.

 

She lifted the com link. “Play them back to back, repeat until I tell you other wise.”

 

Disheveled Breia Solo... Solo with hands down… over and over they repeated that fifteen seconds of dialogue. She closed her eyes listening to just the voices…

 

Wait a minute. The voices! They were close. Close enough that the average human would hear no difference. But what most people called a photographic memory almost always included perfect pitch as well. One voice was slightly different, different enough that she could sense it.

 

“”Play them overlapped. I want both pictures atop each other.” She leaped to her feet striding down the aisle. The overlapped faces were five meters tall. She stopped at the center directly before the screen. Both faces and voices now overlapping. ”Synchronize the voices.”

 

The scenes froze for a few seconds, then both voices spoke in a chorus. Said with both voices overlapping, the differences were even more noticeable. Intonation, pacing, body language; all very close, but different.

 

Her com link bleeped. “Alyanna.”

 

“Seeker Colosoro just returned from Mandalore, and you’re late for the debriefing.” Minister Mariko said.

 

“Minister, the signal that was sent by the Jedi Council was a fake. The woman is not Breia Solo. If you will move the meeting to the theater in the Annex I can prove it.”

 

 

 

LOOSE END

 

Wolort; no long Padawan, now merely teacher Wolort stormed from the council chamber. He stopped, glaring at Sarisha who awaited her judgment. “Satisfied?” Wolort growled.

 

She looked at him levelly. “Master, you are the one who, what is the old human saying? ‘Shot yourself in the foot’.” She replied levelly. “Did you honestly think they would take your word for everything?”

 

“So you sold me out, gave me up like a petty thief trying to avoid prison.” He snapped. “Stood on her side against me!”

 

“I took no sides, and said nothing.” She said. “They did not ask me what had occurred.” She looked away. “Please, Master, your presence is endangering my calm.”

 

He sneered. “Can’t have some woman worried about her calm, can we?” He snarled. “I am returning to Ossus. Perhaps clean air will get the stink of estrogen out of my lungs.” He stormed away.

 

Sarisha sighed. The door opened, she entered, bowing to the Masters of the Grand Council.

 

*****

 

Wolort packed his gear. The transport Master Sinthial would be bound for Ossus, and he expected to be aboard her. The door chimed, and a master entered. “I have need of your service, Padawan.” The robed figure said.

 

“I am no longer Padawan, as you well know.” Wolort snapped. “I am merely a teacher chained to a monastery now.”

 

“I have other duties if you wish them.” The master said. “Come.”

 

A lifetime of obedience took control. Wolort picked up the bag, stalking after the master. A shuttle waited on the pad, and he followed onto it. The master waved to the pilot, who silently lifted it off.

 

The shuttle rose into space, aimed at an old Castian class transport. The master waved toward it. “My special research project.” The figure stood, looking at the ship. “Do you know what separates the Jedi from the rest of the people of our worlds, Wolort?”

 

“I never considered the question, Master.” Wolort admitted. “I just thought it was a quirk of the brain.”

 

“Would that it were that simple.” The master replied. “In our research, we have found the answer to that question. It is a symbiotic virus that causes us to gain such miraculous powers. They have been named midichlorians.” The master watched as the hatch irised open ahead of them. The shuttle settled down on the landing pad as the hatch closed. The Master motioned, and Wolort followed. The pilot sat in his chair, still silent.

 

“These virii live in every form of life. From the smallest microbe, all the way up to the Sun Dancers of the star of Parigia. Anything alive, animal or vegetable sustains them, and it is the concentration of them in our blood that makes us Jedi. The more there are, the more powerful we are.” The Master led the way into a passageway. Beyond it was a compartment surrounded by clear plastic walls. The master walked across it, motioning to the people that sat at control stations.

 

“But a virus can be killed or controlled. Medicine has known this for centuries. If you cannot create a vaccine, you can create a virophage. A sub virus that can feed upon it.” The hatch ahead of the Master slid open slowly, and the robed figure walked across and stepped through.

 

Wolort flinched as the hatch slammed down behind him, and as he spun, the one the Master had stepped through slammed shut as well.

 

“What means this, Master?” He shouted.

 

The Master appeared to Wolort’s right at one empty control panel. “The problem with any vaccine is that you need to test it. So I needed you to try it upon.” A hand reached out, and a mist exploded into the room.

 

Wolort staggered back as it washed over him. He held his breath, frantically clawing at the entry hatch.

 

“I was not stupid enough to forget that we can hold our breaths, younger brother.” The hand slid across the panel. There was a clatter as concussion grenades fell to the deck. They went off in a ripple of light and explosive pressure, slamming the Jedi into the bulkhead as if by a giant hand. He felt his ribs give, and instinctively he gasped in pain, sucking in the deadly air around him.

 

He sagged against the hatch, glaring toward the clear plastic. He drew his sword, and leaped, running toward the enemy just beyond it.

 

Suddenly he felt a pain ripple through him. He was on his knees, gasping, and every breath or movement was its own agony. He could hear that hated voice. “It is still too fast acting. After all, what works in a laboratory to assure its efficiency is too quick for mass dissemination.”

 

“We are working on that. The incubation period at the moment is less than a minute. However we can slow it more and more. Give us six months and it will take three weeks before they feel symptoms.” The dead voice of one of the scientists said.

 

Wolort’s lungs were filling, and he could feel himself to begin drowning in his own fluids.

 

“And it is not supposed to be lethal.” The voice complained. “It must strip them of their power, make them normal not slay them!”

 

Wolort could hear the other voice droning on, but he lost consciousness before the end of the sentence. He died a few minutes later.

 

 

 

A NIGHTMARE

 

Breia looked at the monastery on Coruscant. She knew it was a dream. Only a dream was this silent. She walked forward, up the wide steps that filled the front pavilion from the roadway to the massive door. They stood ajar, and she was alarmed. The doors were never left-

 

A body lay near the doors just inside. A youngling in Jedi garb, curled up in a ball as if asleep. But even before she touched him she knew he was really dead. Her touch caused him to fall on his back limply. His face was tight, eyes and mouth wide, hands clawing at his throat in death as if he were choking.

 

Beyond him were more; too many more. Old; young all races scattered as if a madman had posed them, all clutching chests or throats as if they had suffocated. Room after room she found them, every Jedi of every race, youngling, Padawans, Masters, all lay in death.

 

She found herself running, pushing into the inner garden. Designed by the Ithorians that had joined the Conservation corps it was still there, but the plants were dying. Her eye caught on the floral clock.

 

Anywhere else it would have been merely Coruscanti plants, but here at the seat of the Jedi monasteries, it had plants from all planets that had supplied members to the Jedi order. A hundred or more planets had supplied those plants, and as it was after all a clock, the Ithorians had added their own quirks. Every planet had that rare bloom that only opened at specific times, but there were even rarer ones that opened perhaps once a season, or once a year, or even longer periods. By looking at the clock, and knowing the planets they came from, you could tell not only the hour, but the day week month year decade, even century.

 

She stared, looking at them in horror. If her memory of those plants were accurate this scene was less than eighteen months away…

 

Then she felt it. The same crushing pain of death she had felt first when her mother had died, again and again as her father brother then Meeri joined the force. But this pain was not here. It echoed across the light-years. She found as she writhed in agony that she could almost name each world as the last being, from massive fish and mammals down to the smallest began to die. She felt Ryloth, Corellia, Echana, Duros Nal Hutta, all spiraling into death, and without looking at the world she stood on, she knew that Coruscant had merely been the first. This world had given her no pain because that death had been days or weeks ago Suddenly she expanded, as if the force had ripped her into atoms so she could see everywhere.

More and more, small colonies with populations in the tens of thousands, larger colonies like Naboo with hundreds of thousands, worlds with millions billions even trillions suddenly beginning to die. Ships with entire crews dead as they plunged on their courses. Each focus of what had once been life was a single midichlorian in her now gargantuan body yet each was another rip in her soul as one by one they screamed their own agony and expired.

 

She didn’t know how long she lay there, writhing, but suddenly it was over. There was no pain, but she wanted to scream because the only reason there was no pain was nothing lived anywhere to inflict it.

 

She stared at the clock again. It was-

 

Breia sat up, clutching her chest in remembered pain. There were men at the door, and she looked at them.

 

“Padawan, the Seekers wish your assistance.”

 

 

 

EVIDENCE

 

Silently the four seekers and their Justice Minister watched.

 

“The hair is different.” Shan said.

 

“What?” Mariko looked at the two faces now again side by side. While he was minister of Justice, he did not have the training of a Seeker. The Kerridor had tried having a Seeker do his job once, but the caseload had increased dramatically.

 

“The color on the one on the right,” He waved toward Breia Solo, “is fuller than the other. There is a line about two and a half millimeters wide at the hairline of that woman’s face, which is not as well tanned as the rest of her face. Her hair has been removed to make her fit the pattern of Solo more readily.”

 

“Her eyes are a bit different in color too.” Magnian said. “A few angstroms different, but the wrong color.” He tilted his head. “Can they magnify this image?”

 

Alyanna looked at the already huge faces. “Any specific area?”

 

“Side by side, full screen, focus on the left cheek.”

 

Whoever the technicians were, they deserved a medal. For the next hour, they showed the now huge faces side by side. The video recording of the murderer had faint lines of healed tissue on her face; too faint to see with the human eye, but glaringly obvious when seen as if under a magnifying glass. They were obvious marks of biosculpting.

 

“She is innocent.” Shan said finally. “That is not the same woman.”

 

All of the Seekers looked at the screen. “My question sir, is simple.” Alyanna said finally. “If that is not Breia Solo, who murdered of our Premier? And who gave that order?”

 

“Perhaps my information will help.” Colosoro said.

 

“Report.”

 

“I went to Mandalore and spoke with the four others that were present. At that time I was given this. Which is called a Rememberer.” He brought out a pyramidal shape of crystal the size of his fist. “While I was able to witness the information within it, I am unable to make it work again so all we have is my own observations.” He reported what had transpired when Breia had killed Docro Corrido, her elevation to Narir Jatne of Clan Treiaga, and her subsequent trip to that mountainous and fjord carved land.

 

“I then went to the lands of Clan Treiaga and there was allowed to speak with Docro Corrido, son of Docro Corrido, Chatelaine for their absent Narir Jatne Clan chief, Breia Solo. Present were Siella Corrido mother of Docro Corrido, Sandro Corrido uncle of Docro Corrido, and Soriali Dushai of Clan Kriegta, assigned as assistant to the Chatelaine. With them was Sotiao Changash of clan Treiaga, addressed as ‘Rememberer’ keeper.

 

“They reported that Breia Solo and Dushin Sookor Bai Echana arrived there, and their meeting was recorded on another crystal which I watched it in their presence. Sotiao was able to bring up the information delivered on the first crystal, and stated that she had recorded the meeting I had with Mandalore onto this crystal along with the meeting with clan Treiaga, though I was again unable to activate it.” He held it up. “Sotiao told me that the Jedi might be able to assist since the skill necessary to operate it is not unlike her own skills.” He then told them what occurred during that meeting. Only Mariko flinched when the recitation mentioned that a Jedi master seemed to be the one to blame for the Late Docro Corrido’s actions.

 

“I then timed the return to Kerridor, staying awake the entire time. If she left Mandalore when she has claimed and the Mandalorians verified, she could not have arrived any earlier than she actually did.”

 

Shan looked at the screen. “Breia Solo gave a demonstration of a Jedi’s ability to control minds. Perhaps this Jedi Master is to blame.” He turned to Colosoro. “Was there any record of which Master?”

 

“The Jedi met Docro in secret, and no record was made of that meeting.” Colosoro reported.

 

Shan waved at the crystals. “All of us need to see those records from the Mandalorians. If only to be the final proof of her innocence.” He lifted his com-link. “Security, bring two Jedi, it does not matter which two; to the theater in Government Annex building two.”

 

They waited patiently until Breia with her ever-present guards entered, followed by Sienna. “Padawans, what do you make of this?” Shan asked, holding out one of the crystals.

 

“It is a great Soochir.” Breia replied. “The crystal can be manipulated with the Force, and the structure allows recordings of events. Because the atoms of a crystal are highly focused, they can record literally millions of images.”

 

“Can you activate this?”

 

“I can not.” Sienna said. “I have heard of them, but never seen one.”

 

“Any who know what words and have some ability with the force can.” Breia said. “It is like the skills we taught each other, Sienna. The ability to discover the truth within a person’s own mind or smashing a droid with the Force. If I may?” Breia reached out, picking it up. She closed her eyes for a moment, and as she opened them, the audience room of the Mandalore appeared in mid air as if run through a holographic imager. “This is a copy, not the original.”

 

“How do you know?” Magnian asked.

 

“They are rare, and to give you a crystal that had been recorded earlier would mean giving you perhaps a century of their history. It would be easier to merely duplicate the records you want onto a new Soochir.” Breia explained.

 

The Seekers watched as Breia dealt with Docro, then swore the oath and departed for Treiaga. Colosoro reported that it had not been altered in any substantiative way. Then they watched the first hours of Breia’s suzerainty at Treiaga.

 

“There was no record of the Jedi Master they claimed came there.” Colosoro commented.

 

“I know.” Breia looked at the seeker. “We checked ourselves before we left for Kerridor.” She held it out, and

unthinking, Alyanna took it from her hand.

 

“What about the ship that Master used?” Alyanna asked. The image froze, and everyone stared at it in shock as it reformed, showing a landing pad outside the Treiaga main house. A ship landed.

 

“CEC A-19, just like our own.” Sienna commented as if such thing happened every day. “But they landed at that angle intentionally so that recorders would not record her name.”

Colosoro leaned forward then reached out. However the instant Alyanna’s grip broke, the image died. “What the hell?”

 

“A moment, Seeker.” Sienna said. “I believe I see the working of it. Please.” He handed it to the Jedi. “Show me the Mandalore’s chamber when Breia was there.” The crystal obediently showed the scene. “Seeker Alyanna, is there something in this scene you would wish to hear in greater clarity?”

 

“The fight between Padawan Solo and Docro.”

 

Sienna extended her hand. “Command it.”

 

“Command it!” Alyanna stared at her as if she had bid the woman reverse the sun’s course. “I am no Jedi!”

 

“Command it seeker.” Sienna demanded. “You wish the truth of everything but your own heart. Reach out, take the crystal, and order it to show what you want to know!”

 

Alyanna reached out. It was merely a lump of crystal. Atoms crushed by pressure and time into a translucent mass. She stared at it as Breia entered the Audience Chamber. The embrace by Mandalore, the confrontation between Breia and Cedaro Kostov then the fight between her and Docro Corrido began. The angle wasn’t right… It paused as if it had heard her plaint.

 

“Can it be made to look from another angle?” She asked.

 

“It can make any adjustments you would conceive within reason.” Breia said softly. “All you must do is concentrate on what adjustment that would be, and be able to verbalize it. But it is like a camera feed. It can only show you the angle of what was before it when the recording was made.”

 

Alyanna stared at it. The image was so… small. “Make the image larger.” She said. Obediently it began to expand, from figures the size of her pinky, to as large as her hand, to the length of her forearm. She found herself standing alone as the images grew until they were normal sized. “Sufficient.” The growth stopped. But the figures stood a meter off the ground. “Will it work if I am not touching it?” She asked.

 

“As long as you maintain your control, they will.” Breia replied. “Just put it down on the floor.”

 

Alyanna turned back to it, and found the crystal was no longer in her hand. It floated in the air, moving away from her, and the image began to waver. One of the Jedi must have picked it up with that power they had shown. Firmly she kept it in her mind as the crystal dropped, settling down as if lowered on a string.

 

“Resume.” The confrontation began again. Breia blocked the strike from behind. Slashing his cheek, shattering first his com link, then his sword. Her demand for his surrender and the sudden killing; Her oath to Mandalore…

 

“Wait.” The figures paused. Alyanna walked over to the kneeling figure. “Return to the beginning of the fight.” They reformed, Breia walking away, back to Docro. The fight began. She knew what there was something in that brief exchange of steel that had piqued her interest. “Can we get Sword Master Wu here quickly?”

 

“It’s after midnight.” Magnian mentioned gently.

 

“The style Docro is using. He uses the same moves Master Wu mentioned.” Alyanna said.

 

Shan raised his com link to give the order.

 

Alyanna stared at the crystal. “Show me all that Breia Solo did within your scope.” She said impulsively.

 

Obediently the crystal began at the start. Her arrival, confrontation first with Docro, then with the Treiaga, then suddenly her face as she brought the crystal to life with everything that had occurred in that room.

 

They waited patiently until the sword master arrived. He agreed that there were elements of the same style in Docro’s movements.

 

“So this master whomever he was taught Docro some of these tricks.”

 

“He?” Shan asked. “There is no proof that it is a man.”

 

“It was a man.” Alyanna snapped.

 

“The Seeker is correct.” Wu said. “The strokes that come from the other style are strokes of strength, not guile. A man would teach them more readily because they are what a man with his greater upper body strength would depend on to shatter an enemy’s defense.” Wu said, looking at Alyanna. “But what does your seeker know of swordplay?”

 

Alyanna had to see, but a flickering light in her peripheral vision kept interfering. She had noticed it before but in the time between first looking at the crystal and now it had become brighter. She shook her head angrily. She turned to see what it was, and in that instant, she saw so much more…

 

She shrieked in terror. The next minutes were frantic, screaming, pressure against her back and head. She found herself pressed into a corner of the theater her legs frantically trying to push her through the walls themselves. Before her she saw her fellow Seekers, Master Wu and beyond them, standing with looks of gentle bemusement, were the Jedi.

 

She stared at them all in wonder. The men she had known so many years had glows about them. The color she knew instinctively was anger in Shan, who knew that all truth was never discovered; who regretted every person that died by the government’s hand where he knew or felt that an undiscovered truth would have kept them alive.

 

Colosoro who always felt for those who died, even when they had been proven guilty. Magnian who was always willing to challenge any group he was part of if the facts went the way he thought they should. He had always been the hardest to convince of the facts of any case.

 

She realized that someone like him was necessary. His willingness to accept half the truth goaded people like Colosoro and herself to find all the facts that could be found to search every nook and cranny just to prove him wrong.

 

Wu was the silver glow of a steel blade, ripples like the cutting edge of the Jedi blades she had examined running through the sheen.

 

But they were candles next to the sheer actinic brilliance of the two women standing there so calmly. One of those living searchlight beams moved past her fellows, kneeling to reach out.

 

“Alyanna. It is all right.” It was Sienna, she realized. Of course it was Sienna! Breia still stood back there, cuffed. Her power caged only by her own will.

 

Unbidden, her mind went to those restraints. Alyanna suddenly realized how pathetic those shackles had been all this time. She felt the way of steel and locks as if it was already written in her mind, and there was the clash of high tensile steel falling as she made them open. Solo could have done that at any time. She had put herself willingly in their hands, taken their abusive language and treatment without demur. Would have bowed her head for the blade, for high treason and assassination were still punished by beheading.

 

“No.” She snapped, her words stopping the others as they spun at that sound of falling cuffs. “I released her. We knew she was innocent, proven over and over.” She looked at Justice Minister Mariko. Here she saw the first darkness in her sight. Yet she realized it was the taint of politics, where truth all too often took second place to what was expedient. Something Mariko had always resisted. “Minister, will you so declare it?”

 

“What have you done with her?” Mariko demanded. “Can this Force be passed to others as if it were an illness?”

 

“Minister, please be still.” Shan hissed. “Alyanna, what do you see?”

 

She laughed, but it was with the wonder a newborn felt when it discovered those pudgy digits could bring things closer. “I cannot describe it, Seeker Master. It is as if I can see within, tell the truth with the words someone would speak. Tell if there is a taint of dishonesty.”

 

“She had always been the one who dug deepest.” Colosoro said. “Who never stopped until all facts were brought to light.” She watched the glow of him move forward, and she felt what… concern? Even love? Never had he shown such for her before. “Alyanna.” He whispered, and she felt the jolt of his aura against her. But it wasn’t painful; it was as if she had been wrapped in the favorite blanket of her childhood. Or when she was still a child being held by her father’s strong arms.

 

“Why Colosoro?” She demanded. “Why have you never spoken of what you feel aloud?” His aura darkened, and she leaped forward, clasping his head to her bosom. “You thought I would ignore you? Deny you?”

 

“That I was not worthy of you.” She felt rather than heard his reply.

 

She lifted his head, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. “Fool!”

 

“I do not understand.” Shan said. “Can you explain what has happened with her?”

 

“The Force is within all things, Seeker.” Breia looked at him mildly. “Those who can use it might never know unless they force themselves to use it, or find that one key thing they can do naturally.” She looked at Alyanna. “Your associate from the sound of it is inquisitive. She looks beneath every stone as it were to find the truth. She looks where no one else thinks to look, and finds it more often than not. Yet when there is no more truth to find, she accepts it with better grace than you take it.”

 

“She is tenacious, and her powers of observation excellent. She never stops.” Shan agreed. “I have seen her interrogate prisoners and witnesses, always finding the kernel of truth that is there. Never swayed by hubris or opinion. It is why I asked that she be assigned to your case.”

 

“I thank you for that.” Solo bowed her head. “If I had known the caliber of your people, I would not have despaired.” She motioned toward Colosoro. “But it also explains why the one you sent to Mandalore was unable to operate the Soochir. You see, a child is the combination of the genes of his parents, and their capability with the Force determines how great his can be. Think of it as one person building a ship, and the other manufactures the fuel. It is believed that the father supplies the potential, and the mother supplies the link to the force, however there are those who believe it is the other way.

 

“About ten years ago, Master Halfert of Ossus discovered that our abilities comes from a microscopic organism he named the Midichlorian. They exist within all living things, even within the earth where living things have died, and the stone made from that living flesh. They feed on harmful bacteria within our bodies, and they concentrate the Force within themselves.” She looked at the attentive audience.

 

“Some people of all races can use the Force, and some cannot. But the rarest are those like us,” She motioned toward Sienna, “and those who feel nothing from it.” She motioned toward Colosoro. “We call people like him Force blind, because they can no more feel the Force than a blind man can see.

 

“Most people are like the rest of you, with only some small abilities. You Seeker Leader can feel when there is a piece missing from the puzzle of your case. That is why you feel regret when someone is executed in those cases. You, Minister can see ways to bend others to your will, but use it little. Alyanna is merely one of the few who could have been a Jedi with training.”

 

“But those like us are different, and why we are is still not explained. A Jedi named Dor about fifty years ago suggested that we are guided by the Force to help those who the Force cannot touch more directly, to act as shepherds if you will. There are times when people will try to destroy rather than nurture. We are the hand and the sword of the Force, directed to help, and if necessary defend life in all forms. Those such as Breia and myself are sent or directed to where such a problem is found, to set things right. Our Padawan learners learn how to measure and judge by our example, and from them we learn other ways to do this.

 

“It is a process that never ends, Masters discovering where the lines of fate and life are kinked, Padawan teachers smoothing them back into place, Learners taking the teachings, and giving us new ways to look at the problems so we may better serve the Force.”

 

So that was why she had done this for so long she realized. Even as a child she had excelled at the duties of a Seeker, as if she didn’t need training, merely needed to show that she could do it. She had been promoted through the training so quickly that others had been sure she had political backing. But she had proven to be the best. When they told others of this…

 

“But what am I to do now?” Alyanna wailed suddenly. She clenched her fists over her eyes. “I cannot be a Seeker! I see too much, Leader!”

 

“Why do you say that?” Sienna asked gently, reaching out to brush the woman’s hair. “Don’t you see that this skill was always there, just never used? You serve your people selflessly, with no thought of your own preconceptions. You are compassionate, and when all the facts are in, you are serene in that judgment.

 

“You are already trained in so many ways to what we would seek in a young Jedi. If you feel you cannot stay here I am sure the order would be glad to accept you as a member or teacher.”

 

“I agree for my own reasons.” Mariko interrupted. “If I am correct, the only difference between the way you were and the way you are now is you see more than would be defined as normal?”

 

Everyone looked at him as if he’d said the sun was warm, or water was wet. He sighed. “Seekers all, you don’t understand. You don’t realize how our people see you.” He waved toward the Jedi. “They show abilities that are literally magical, but so do you!

 

“Part of my indoctrination when I became Justice Minister was the school you were trained at. I watched five year old children quoting verbatim from books of a thousand pages, with the teacher picking pages at random for them. Doing jigsaw puzzles by looking at each piece first, then assembling them in sequence without a pause. Looking at a thousand photographs, then setting them in piles in the exact sequence they were viewed.

 

“I had a child look at me for ten seconds, then turn around and describe me from hair to shoes without a flaw. In fact I saw an applicant rejected because he couldn’t play a tune that he’d only heard once!”

 

He smiled gently at the Seekers. “Our people consider you perfect, and your training has made you so. No one has ever proven bias or failure in what is it, four hundred years now? Shan, if you could train a seeker to see as Alyanna does, would you do it?”

 

“In an instant.” Shan replied. “It would streamline the process immensely.”

 

“So we can announce her innocence-“ Mariko started, but Sienna stopped him.

 

“Sir we cannot report her innocence.”

 

“What?” Shan stared at her. “But we must!”

 

“You do not understand, Seeker Leader.” Breia commented softly. “Someone close to the Jedi Council is part of this. If you announce my innocence, that person will either run for cover, or hatch yet other plans. For I feel in my heart that this is an attempt to stop the Republic’s formation.” She hugged herself. “The Force has shown me a vision. The murder of the Premier was only the first step. Whomever is behind this plans to release some sort of plague.”

 

Except for Sienna, all of them were stunned. Sienna’s head cocked. “Something like the chemical weapon designed by Zardan Landru ten years ago?”

 

“Perhaps.” Breia turned. In a dull voice she described the dream. “I felt every living thing die, animal, plant, everything. Whoever is doing this will strike with a weapon that strikes directly at the midichlorians and in so doing, will destroy everything. If the weapon has not been deployed, we have a chance. But if we push him to use it early, everything dies.”

“So what can we do?” Mariko demanded.

 

“We convince him that I am dead, or have escaped again.”

[machievelli]

For those who were interested, I did some heavy editing, so reread the first parts. The last section has five pages of brand new work. I will add to this this month, I promise!

 

What, no one has anything to say?

[machievelli]

THE PURSUIT OF HONOR

If Colosoro had stayed a few more hours, he would have seen a piece of Mandalorian history.

 

Docro Corrido stood from the small chair set before and below the one for his Narir Jatne. He ignored the looks of his uncle and mother, walking over to look out the floral window at the Great fjord. The window was the oldest thing in this massive fortress. A gift from the 14th Mandalore when the first phalanx of Clan Treiaga had stood to the last man protecting the wounded 13th Mandalore on the field of Tegran.

 

“This is unforgivable.” The boy said.

 

“My son-”

 

“Nephew-”

 

“Enough.” The boy turned, facing his mother and uncle. “The woman is our Narir Jatne. They accuse her of crimes, and we do nothing!”

 

“My son, she is not our family.” Even as she said it, his mother realized her mistake.

 

“Alit on’shya tal’din.” He replied. She bowed her head. He had told her, 'family is more than bloodline'. A precept of Mando'a clan rules, where a family adopted more often than not.

 

He looked at them with a glare worthy of his father. “Breia is our Narir Jatne. Our clan chief! Will we let anyone tell us what we may do?”

 

Siella Corrido, mother of the Châtelaine of the clan bowed her head. “Lead us.”

 

The boy bowed his head, and Siella almost smiled. So like his father!

 

“Mother, Brother to my mother, call the families of the clan. The enemy hold us in the hollow of his hand.” The boy held out his cupped hand. “It is said, 'An enemy holding you in his hand has no use for what we will destroy'.” The boy smiled. I declare before all, attack one, attack the clan. All contracts are in abeyance. The clan is all!”

Clan Treiga had declared war on anyone who had declared their clan an enemy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT

 

“Explain this.” Interim Premier Janeen Kirodi demanded.

 

Justice Minister Mariko looked at her with a slight amount of chagrin. “Premier, under the laws covering such things, it is perfectly acceptable.”

 

Janeen looked around the group in her office. Both Padawan teachers were there, along with all of the Seekers assigned to the case, the Minister of Justice and the ever present Konor and two others. “Please explain this to me.” She asked, though her tone suggested 'right this minute!'.

 

Mariko hung his head. “Lady Premier, may I explain?”

 

Her face was saying something more emphatic as she replied, 'Please.”

 

“When the Jedi council declared them exile, both Padawans Solo and Dodonna were no longer their responsibility. As such we had no reason to notify the Jedi that two of their number were being held by us for judgment.” Mariko told her.

 

She looked at them, then at the Jedi. “And what of the others?”

 

Mariko looked to the Seekers beseechingly. Seeker Leader Shan interposed himself smoothly.

 

“Lady Premier, under their own code, Padawan learners are linked to their Padawan teachers. Until we are done with our investigations, they are treated as part and parcel with their Padawan teachers.”

 

The woman looked at the Seekers and Padawan before her, then threw her hands in the air. “So two of our prisoners don't even count?”

 

Breia hid the smile that threatened to become a belly laugh. Janeen looked at her, and for the first time, there was no fury in that look.

 

“Enough.” Janeen snapped, cutting off the explanations. “So we do not have to tell the Jedi council that we have them?”

 

“Yes, Premier.” Mariko replied.

 

She looked across the faces, Kerridor and Jedi alike. “So the only ones who know we have them here are among our own?”

 

“Yes, Lady Premier.”

 

“Lady Premier.” Alyanna interjected. “We know our enemy has access to the Jedi Council. To tell them we have the accused is to give them warning.”

 

“I understand that.”

 

“We must discover who has done this. They used your husband, our people, as foils in their plan. That is not the worst.” Alyanna continued. “Padawan Solo, please.”

 

Breia described her force vision. Everyone looked at the Premier, who grew even more aghast. When she stopped speaking the silence stretched on.

 

“So you wish us to report your death.” The Premier said.

 

“That would make them stop looking. Give us a chance to find and stop them.”

 

“No.” The Seekers stared at her when a feral grin spread across the Premier's face. “Have you forgotten our other Breia Solo? The one made in your image?”

 

“No doubt she is dead.” Shan commented.

 

“Oh really.” Janeen stood. “Think of the timing, Seeker. We report the murder, and her capture. Then less than a day later, her escape. Padawan Dodonna, you are ordered to find her, and less than ten hours later the faked message is sent to convince the council that you are in league with her.

 

“He cannot kill his pawn yet, people. If Padawan Dodonna or one of the Learners get out of hand, he can trot her out again. Until they know, know Breia Solo is dead, the woman will live.”

 

Shan nodded. “I had not considered that. You are of course correct.” He looked around. “Any suggestions?”

 

“We cannot have her pretend to escape, since they do not know she is here. We cannot pretend to kill her, because the real killer will escape and his pawn will die.”

 

“Then we use them.” Colosoro said. “We have two teams of people trained in Jedi ways, four Seekers trained in our ways, and a Galaxy to hunt in.”

 

“But their ships are obviously Jedi craft to those we hunt.” Alyanna riposted. “We cannot even use the faked transponders they have.”

 

“We have our own couriers.” Magnian said. “Both Kuati and Coruscanti designs. They are not in the same league as your ships, but they are fast, relatively well armed, and ours. Also they will carry three in comfort. This means we can send each team of Jedi with one of our own, and the third ship will carry the other two.” He grinned. “And I would match our intelligence apparatus against anyone in the galaxy.”

 

Mariko nodded. “With your permission, Premier, we have a hunt to plan.”

*****

 

The most important part of a hunt is knowing your prey.

 

The Jedi and Seekers trimmed hunt down to a managable level. The one they sought had to be along the Perlemian Trade Route, which ended at Coruscant, or along one of the routes that ran from it. At Brentaal it broke to the Corellian Trade Spine and from there allowed the enemy to use all of the five 'folds' that allowed rapid access to the galaxy. Most of the Galaxy still depended upon the routes created back when all they had were Hyper Cannon. Any break from those were the ones scouted by hyper cannon or the first full hyper drive, all of which had been plotted to a far thee well.

 

Unless the enemy had a hyper drive upon the ship they were using, they were limited to that space less than 50 light years from one of those routes.

 

The other important point was that their enemy dared not use a land based facility. Regardless of their belief that containment would work, no one in their right mind would attempt to create a pandemic on a planet. Almost 3000 years of attempt at containment and failure had proven this. Too many societies had tried and failed to contain such work before, and no one was that stupid. A Jedi Master in charge would obviously know this.

 

So their quarry was a ship, an innocuous vessel no one else had noticed.

 

Like any hunter, a predator had to also be able to either out run it's prey, or be able to conceal itself with camouflage.

 

The specialists in Kerridor Intelligence outdid themselves. Each of the ships was equipped with a dozen different transponder codes from almost three score planets. The older K class Kuati couriers were ubiquitous, tens of thousands had been built and thousands were still in operation. They didn't have the hull altering pigments of the more modern ones, but their very common nature did a lot.

 

Soon three ships lifted from Kerridor. One was named Kanrilis, commanded by Padawan Teacher Breia Solo, along with Padawan Learner Dushin Sookor Bai Echana and Seeker Magnian.

 

The second was named Kashar. She was commanded by Padawan Teacher Sienna Dodonna, along with Padawan Learner Toorio of Duros and Seeker Shan.

 

The last was named Kreekta, Commanded by Seeker Alyanna with Seeker Colosoro.

 

The hunt could now begin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE PREY

 

The voice considered. Something had changed. Now someone hunted him. He considered the options. At this point, it was safer to protect his assets. He took the man he controlled with him back to the planet. The pawn was delivered to the house he maintained one hundred kilometers from the government center. The ship...

 

He signaled the Castian class transport that still orbited Coruscant to get under way.

 

He returned to the Council. The fools still argued but that would end. Soon they would grow ill, their powers would flee, and they would bow out, allowing the galaxy to muddle along on their own without magical charlatans standing behind the curtain of the Force to control them.

 

The galaxy would be saved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

PICKING UP THE TRAIL

 

The Courier Kreekta, transmitting the name Jolly Man dropped into the Coruscant system, transmitting a request for permission to land on the planet. As the 4,000th ship to make such a request that morning, no one even noticed.

 

It had been an interesting trip. Alyanna had expected to be paired with Magnian or Shan. Instead...

 

A steaming cup of Kerridor black tea seemed to appear by her head, and she turned, smiling up at him. It had been a week to travel from Kerridor to Coruscant. The first day had been sheer terror. She had said so much, spoken from her heart rather than her head. Now she was trapped in a 20 ton ship with the man she had bared her heart to!

 

Yet Colosoro had said nothing. He had merely come aboard the ship, setting his gear in one of the cabins, gone to the galley and made... dinner.

 

She had barely known what she had eaten. It was delicious, what ever it was, but for the first time in her life she had not even recorded what it was. The man had cleared the table, washed the dishes, then gone to his room to study.

 

It was frustrating. She had wanted him to... what? Grasp her to his chest, kiss her body, ravish her, damn, even talk to her?

 

Yet nothing happened.

 

The mood had lightened the second day. He had made small talk, speaking of their work, the cases they had worked on together, all of them as clear in her memory as the first month in training. He was calm, sweet, charming, and again nothing happened.

 

She went to bed frustrated that second night. He had been so sweet and gentle as a family friend who would not touch this jewel of the family.

 

Damn him!

 

The third night after dinner, she had gone to the cargo bay to practice. Sienna had given her a practice sword. She felt like a fool trying to learn to wield a sword at her age, but it had been almost as if the Jedi had impressed the necessity to learn upon her.

 

Strike, parry, block, guard, strike, she realized that she was repeating exactly what the false Breia had done in her attack on the Premier.

 

Just as she felt like a traitor she heard, “The feet are in the wrong place, Alyanna.”

 

She looked at the hatch, where Colosoro watched. She hung her head. Bad enough that she was duplicating a murderous attack but she had been seen doing it!

 

Then she felt arms. One wrapped around her waist, the other caught her wrist. She felt a man's breath on her cheek, and her heart hammered in her chest.

 

“Both hands upon the hilt, my dear.” His voice was a tocsin in her ear. She moved as he demanded, moved as he bid, feeling herself fall within his sway. She moved as he ordered, became what he wanted her to be. By the end of the training set she matched first the killer, then what the real Breia had done.

 

She began again, adding the moves made by Sienna, performing them faultlessly.

 

Colosoro released her, and Alyanna felt his moving away from her as if he were putting a wall between them.

 

Before she could scream her frustration he was gone.

 

She took a shower, first to cleanse herself, then an icy cold one. Her father had spoken often about how a cold shower did wonders for that specific condition.

 

It didn't help.

 

She studied the problem with the enemy ship, but it was too simple to keep her occupied. She kept seeing Colororo's gentle smile his brown eyes, his-

 

She snatched up the sword to practice again. Again he was there, watching.

 

To hell with that! Her heart screamed. She went through the same attack. By the false Breia, by the real one, by Sienna, by Dushin, by Toorio, then she spun facing her tormentor. “Anything else?” She demanded. Before he could speak she flung the sword aside and tackled him. “If you want to understand the real me, best come to the source!”

 

Sweet, bliss of the heart, she had wanted to scream her joy at that touch, to revel in it, glory in it.

 

But day upon day of satisfaction had built on that impulsive act. Three days of his arms enfolding her, of delight she had never dreamed of, of having the man who saw her as the epitome of perfection holding her, pleasuring her, loving her!

 

Now three days of such bliss. Of knowing his desire of her fulfilled in such a glorious manner that she felt the love within swell to over flowing.

 

As she took the cup she felt his finger run along her face, and her heart sped up as if nothing else mattered. Hie eyes watched her with that mix of amusement and affection he had just for her. Her mind was clear, focused as it had never been in her life. She would find this being, drag him into the light of day and expose his crimes. If given permission she'd wield the sword!

 

People forget that no matter how hidden, anything leaves signs that can be detected by a patient investigator. Colosoro used a data miner to download data for the last year. It might have made intelligence operatives suspicious except for how mundane the data was... every ship that had arrived or left in the last year. Every cargo shipped into orbit along with the ships that took them aboard, every ton of food or fuel supplied to each ship. It took a week to complete, but as it arrived they both sat and collated.

 

As each ship was filled with fuel cargo and departed, they were checked off the list. Their prey would want his ship close, using fuel, using rations, but not going anywhere. They ignored the military vessels except for those assigned to revictualling them. None were large enough for such a process, yet also small in crews. The frigates had 300 odd men or more, the smaller corvettes only a hundred or so, as did the massive military supply ships. It might have been a good disguise except they stuck to rigid schedules, land, load, lift off, visit ship after ship...

 

One by one the ships vanished from the list. In the 380 day year 4.560,000 ships had arrived. It became four million, then three, two, a million, half a million, a quarter, an eighth. Fifty thousand, thirty, 20, 10, then less than a thousand.

 

It stopped at 285. 200 warships that had rotated into then out of the system, 50 short haul merchants that had been and returned in that year. Thirty belonging to various politicians of nearby planets.

 

Finally there was only one. It had arrived 11 months before, orbited until mere days before they had arrived. It had loaded no cargo, used fuel and rations for about fifty men, but did nothing but sitting there.

 

It was a Castian class cargo ship, and it had given it's destination as Sluis Van when it departed.

 

Two message torpedoes dropped away. One was bound for Quermia, at the far end of the Perlemian Trade Route. the other for Bonadon at the far end of the Corellian Trade Spine.

 

The hunt had begun to heat up.