This fic started when Trillian4210 of the ff.n C2 'What do you want to read?' put out an open request for a 'fic featuring DS!Bao-Dur and LS!Mical. My interest was piqued, and I said I'd do it - and right afterward, began asking myself 'how?'. What makes Bao-Dur tick? What makes Mical tick? And in the end, was it was simple as good vs. evil in the KotOR universe?

And the fic mutated. What was supposed to be a one-shot about two KotORII characters became a short story involving at least five characters from both games - and it became a story less about dark and light and more about what happens when the savior of the galaxy leaves others to clean up their messes...

Because KotOR and the people in it really are that messed up.

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Mical heard the stories last, it seemed like. It was unforgivable of him, really, to ignore the larger galaxy as he sought to rebuild the Jedi Council. And in retrospect, the near-complete destruction of Czerka's offices was something to take notice of. Everyone was talking about it - except him, of course.

"Juhani, what can you tell me of these attacks?" He asks quietly, and the Cathar woman sighs quietly before bringing a projection onto the view screen between them. A slide-show of gruesome murders begins to flicker across the screen, and Mical fights the urge to look away.

"The first murders seemed like accidents, although recent events have proved otherwise. Crashes, health problems, rival companies...all easily explainable, all attributable to bad luck," she begins, her accented voice soft. "Within the last year, though, the deaths have morphed into grisly - and obvious - murders. There is no pattern to how they are killed; although the assassin favors long-range weaponry, he will use hand to hand combat, poison, and melee weapons when needed. The only certainty is that he is not a Jedi - no Force powers have been used on the subject."

"Thank goodness for small mercies," Mical breathed. "Anything else?"

"No." She says the word flatly, and Mical inwardly winces. Juhani and he had never really gotten on for some reason…

"Well, I suppose the only thing we can do is wait and watch, then."

Juhani frowned. "Actually, that's not quite true…"

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In a dark alley on an industrial planet on the Outer Rim, a harsh voice speaks.

"Terse Summation: The meatbag target is cleverer than most – he surrounds himself with guards and women, and when he must be alone, he has droids with him. He never leaves his compound, and his security system is constantly updated. In short, he is an intermediate level target. What are your directions now?"