Divide and Conquer
"The boss said to stay here," Linku protested as Draymon lowered himself over the ledge of the roof.
"He's not 'the boss'," Draymon corrected as he began to lower himself down the side of the building. "Now, c'mon!"
Reluctantly, Linku followed his partner down the cable, "Neither's Tristan, but we call him 'boss'. Granger's his lieutenant and we work for….."
"I don't work for nobody, especially no Jedi," Draymon snapped.
Linku nearly guffawed, "You don't work for nobody, huh? Vespuccio and Tristan may beg to differ….."
"Everybody works for them. I just mean that Jedi ain't one of us and never will be," Draymon clarified.
"He ain't no Jedi no more," Linku countered.
Draymon was clearly irritated, "Hush, or you'll tell the whole complex we're here."
The pair repelled the rest of the building in absolute silence, but their stealth was of little avail. They had barely taken two steps after hitting the ground when the facility's alarm nearly deafened them. Within seconds, they were surrounded by heavily armed security forces. "Shoot to kill," the captain ordered.
"Whoa! Whoa! Wait!" the thugs protested in panic as they dove for the ground and vainly covered their faces. Linku heard a strange hiss just before the blaster fire began. He expected each blast to be the last sound he would ever hear and yet they kept coming. When he was finally brave enough to remove his hands from his face, he saw a silhouette bathed in green light. The green beam moved faster than Linku's eyes could track. The beam seemed to simultaneously absorb and deflect the blaster fire.
When the blaster stopped and the pair were surrounded by fallen security forces, Granger closed his saber and turned to chide the defiant crew members. "You were told to wait."
Draymon gave a nervous glance at Linku. "Sorry boss….."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"So how are you finding it here, now?" Tristan poured his most competent lieutenant a drink as the others filed out from the office.
Granger could not help, but notice their jealous stares. Reluctantly, he seemed to be the only one that Tristan had an interest in. He had not even been with the Family a year and already was running a subcrew of his own. "Well, you seem to be the only one who trusts me."
Tristan huffed, "The more they see you in action, the more you will win them over. They're beginning to come around, even if you don't see it." Tristan paused for a thought. "Of course, if you struck a little fear into them, they would come around much faster….."
Granger obviously became uncomfortable at the mention of fear. "Fear is not really my thing…. It's not…."
"The Jedi way?" Tristan completed the sentence. "I get that you find strength in their methods still, but the Jedi put you out. We are your family now. You would do well to try some of our methods."
Granger twisted uncomfortably in his seat. These were the times his assignment bothered him. He knew his mission and believed in the overall good of it, but he had to sell himself to Tristan to be successful. And Tristan was no fool. In the midst of selling himself, he also had grown to like Tristan. That was the problem with this sort of mission. It was easy to get lost in the role. Yet if he did not get lost, at least a little, someone as smart as Tristan would see right through the act. It was this lost part of him that was moved by Tristan's words. The Jedi had betrayed him. He had nowhere to go and this was his family. He would do well to learn their ways. Despite all of that, Granger the Jedi Master still had a mission. "Yeah, maybe you're right?"
Tristan pondered his own words for a minute. "Or maybe you are….. Fear ain't really the right word….. respect…that's the real goal. It's a little more lasting than fear."
"Respect is earned and takes time. Like trust," Granger retorted.
"True. You're still new with your crew. Come down heavy on them in this phase. When you feel you have control, you can lighten up. Show them you're in charge…..that they have to show respect, whether they like it or not," Tristan summed up his position.
"And if that strikes a little fear as well….." Granger tacked on with a grin.
"It happens," Tristan leaned back in his chair with a smile.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Granger picked up the debris in the tunnel from the controlled blast along with the other mine workers. Some moved faster than he, some slower. "Just move fast enough not to get noticed," several of the other workers had told him, but being new, it was taking him some time to find his right pace.
"You, boy!" a shout came from behind him. "This is the third day in a row, I've caught you slackin'! Time to teach you some 'git-up'!"
Before Granger could turn to protest, his young body was grabbed from behind and lifted into the air. Granger struggled, but again not too much. He wanted to protest his treatment, but did not actually want to get away from his captor. At least not yet. The iron-like hands with the stern voice rounded a corner, out of sight of the other workers, then dropped their cargo.
Granger sprung up excitedly. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming today, Master."
Master Wagalog grinned at his padawan. "You were working too fast. I had to wait for you to slack off a bit in your pace. How ya holdin' up kid?"
Although the assignment was beginning to wear on Granger, it was not the work that was bothering him. He did not know exactly how to explain what he was feeling to his Master. "It is fine, Master. The work is hard, but nothing I can't handle."
"But?" Wagalog probed his apprentice.
"But… the people….. the other workers…. I see what they see. I do what they do…..feel what they feel."
"We are here to investigate the rumored abuses in this mining colony," Wagalog summed up. "That is exactly what you should be experiencing." Since most of the workers were of a younger age, Granger had been assigned the cover of a mine worker. Wagalog was assigned the role of a newly transferred supervisor. Although the Mining Guild had already given the operation a clean bill, this particular colony could not shake accusations of worker abuse. It was a particularly productive mine. It stood to reason that the right people were making a fine profit. The wrong kind of attention could cut in to the influx of credits. A Republic Senate committee asked the Jedi to investigate. "Is there any new information?"
"Not really," the young padawan had more to say, but he couldn't find the words.
"What is it, young one?" Wagalog could sense the conflict with Granger, but needed the padawan to express the issue.
"It is just….. this is hard work. The miners work themselves nearly to death. They do not get paid much. Their living conditions are terrible. And when they are too broken to work, they receive only the minimum of benefits. It just….. is not right," Granger dropped his eyes at his own words.
"Perhaps it is not, Wagalog agreed, "but it is not illegal. What you are experiencing my dear padawan is attachment. I do not need to remind you that it is your duty as a Jedi to mind your mission. Getting attached to the workers will only cause distraction."
"But how can I become one of them and not be attached to them?" Granger finally expressed the core of his conflict.
"By completing the mission," Wagalog reassured the younger Jedi. "That will help them more in the long run. Are you sure there is no update?"
"No Master," Granger inhaled and attempted to refocus himself. "There are stories of workers disappearing and rumors of illegal operations, but I have encountered nothing concrete."
"I have heard the same and come up with the same, but we have only been at this a few days. Perhaps the allegations will turn out to be false, but we must stay vigilant," Wagalog paused and patted his padawan's shoulder. "Back to work then." Granger nodded and started down the mine shaft. "And may the Force be with you." Wagalog called after his distracted padawan.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
This time there was no denying it, Granger would have to make a choice. His crew had been assigned a hit, out and out. There was no way around it. If Granger did not bring back the head of Kruzel, then at best, his cover would be blown for good. At worst, the entire Vespuccio Family would be calling for his own head. Granger had no qualms with taking a life in self-defense or one like the Magistrate who had been responsible for numerous crimes and lived above or outside the law. However, he knew nothing of this Kruzel. Surely if the low life popped up on Tristan's radar, he had crossed the Family in some way. Chances were the man they were after was some degenerate gangster who had killed or stolen from the wrong person. Most likely, the man had it coming and deserved whatever punishment would be dished out to him, but something in the Force was not sitting right. "What do we know about this guy?" Granger asked no one in particular. Linku and Draymon shrugged. After a few seconds Trinar spoke up, "Does it make a difference? Boss wants him dead."
"Perhaps not," Granger mumbled as they neared the target's home. Nothing in particular suggested that it belonged to anyone other than the typical working-class stiff.
"Perhaps not," Trinar whispered mockingly to Draymon, who silenced his comrade.
Granger inhaled deeply outside of the front door. "Let's get this over with."
With extended hands, Granger ripped the door open through the Force. A middle aged professionally dressed man came charging into the room from what Granger assumed was the kitchen. Granger knocked the man across the room with a Force Push. "Are you Kruzel?"
"What do you want?" the stranger asked with a pleading tone.
Granger intensified his stare so that his target was pinned to the wall and began to grasp for air. "Are you Kruzel?" The henchmen from the back of the house entered from the kitchen with what Granger assumed was the man's wife and three children. His heart sank as they began to plead for their father's life. "Maybe they will answer my questions."
"Yes," Kruzel gasped. "Please don't hurt them."
Granger released his Force choke. "Why does my boss want you dead?"
The family gasped in horror as Kruzel gasped for air. "You've got the wrong guy….. I'm a teacher… I've never bothered anybody."
Granger glanced around at his crew. They seemed unmoved. "Vesspucio…Tristan… ring any bells?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I've never even heard of those people!" Kruzel insisted.
"That's what they all say," Granger mumbled, but unlike his henchmen, he could sense that Kruzel was telling the truth. The Jedi looked over at the terrified family. "OK, let's take him to Tristan and straighten this out."
"That ain't the job, Jedi," Trinar spoke up pulling his blaster. "After I finish him, I'm finishing you too."
Before Granger could speak, Draymon stepped between Trinar's blaster and Kruzel. "The boss said, we take him to Tristan."
"He ain't no boss," Trinar sniffed. "And if you get in my way, you can die with him." Trinar raised his blaster and began to squeeze the trigger.
A slash of green light severed Trinar's forearm with the blaster before he could complete the squeeze. "I said, 'no'," Granger reemphasized then plunged his lightsaber into Trinar's torso. He closed the blade to let the body drop. "Pick him up," Granger ordered then motioned at Kruzel. "Bring him too. We're going to see Tristan. Anybody else have a problem with that?"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Jared worked in the mines since he had been old enough. He was now middle aged. Not only was the hard work catching up with his body, but today he was nursing an injury. Jared had taken Granger under his wing as he had done with most of the rookies for decades. Everyone noticed their struggling mentor, but through the Force, Granger was especially attune to the older man's struggle. Granger stayed close to him in an attempt to cover his lagging collection rate, but he was also beginning to tire and it was just barely mid-morning.
"You! Old man!" one of the supervisors yelled from down the shaft. "I've been watchin' you for the last hour. This boy's been doing most of your work! We pay you to work, not get carried by the kids! Get a move on!"
Jared did not even turn to face his tormentor. He went for a particularly large boulder, but promptly dropped it as his back gave out. He and the rock hit the ground hard.
"That's it!" the supervisor came charging towards the crew of workers. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson."
The supervisor greeted Jared's ribs with a kick, knocking the older man back to the ground just as he was almost to his feet. The supervisor grabbed Jared's collar and started to drag him deeper into the dark shaft.
"Leave him alone!" Granger challenged with a physical and Force Push, sending the bully into the rock wall.
Jared rolled towards the other members of the crew who shewed him away from his assailant as his full attention became focused on the young upstart. "You're new here, right? I guess you're the one who needs the lesson."
Granger felt another hand grab his collar from behind. "Problems with this one?" Wagalog inquired. "I've had my eye on him all week."
"He needs to learn his place," the supervisor stopped in his tracks not daring to challenge a peer.
"He's my responsibility. I'll deal with him, but good," the Jedi Master seemed sincerely agitated.
"See that you do," seeking a new target the supervisor spun to face the spectating crew. "Everybody back to work! Now!"
When Wagalog had Granger out of sight and earshot, he released the padawan. "What was that?"
Granger dropped his head. "I just couldn't stand by and watch it happen."
"Perhaps not," Wagalog conceded. "But these workers will benefit more when we accomplish our actual mission than you saving one person from a beating."
Granger wanted to protest, but he also saw the wisdom in the senior's words. "I know, Master."
We are just beginning to earn some trust and learn some real information about this place. Do not lose the war, just to win one battle… even if it seems like an important one."
"I know, Master. I'm sorry," Granger hung his head even lower.
Wagalog gave his padawan a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Your heart was in the right place. That is most important. This is a tough assignment. Hang in there. We will be done soon enough."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was more than a little unusual for an entire crew to come barging into Tristan's office. The few startled faces that sat around the Underboss's desk jumped to their feet when the odd assortment entered dragging an impaled body. "We need to talk," Granger spoke directly to Tristan who was the only man in the room still in his seat.
"So I see," Tristan pushed back the brim of his hat. "What's the problem?"
"Is this the, Kruzel, you sent us after?" Granger inquired not quite sure what he intended to accomplish.
"That's him," Tristan eyed the now urine soaked teacher then shifted his gaze to Trinar's body. "And ain't he one of yours?"
"He needed to be taught some manners," Granger almost grinned, but quickly refocused on the business at hand. He glanced at Kruzel. "Explain yourself."
Kruzel was still at a loss, "I don't know what you want with me. I don't know any of you."
Tristan sighed, "Do you remember placing a bet with a man named, Krieg?"
If Kruzel had not been staring death in the face, he would have laughed. "That was years ago. I heard he was dead."
Tristan now leaned forward in his seat. "Which means your debt to him is now your debt to me. Did you think there was an expiration date?"
Kruzel glanced around at his captors in desperation. "No, I just… it was so long ago… I had never gambled before….. didn't even know what I was doing…" He straightened himself and mustered all the sincerity he could find. "I did not even know who to contact. I'm sure we can work this out….."
"Some of his associates attempted to contact you several times. Your information was false. You knew what you were doing." Tristan was undeterred.
"It was so long ago….." Kruzel repeated. "I was desperate… didn't even know what I was doing… It was only a few credits….."
"We are men of principle," Tristan chuckled. "The amount is irrelevant." The seasoned gangster then produced a blaster from beneath the desk, emptying one shot into the captor.
"No!" Granger screamed, instinctively putting his hand on his lightsaber, but pausing before pulling it.
Using the same instinct the collected gangsters drew their blasters. Most pointed theirs at Granger, but certain members of his crew pointed theirs at the others. A single whiff of smoke rose from Tristan's blaster that was still trained on Kruzel's body. "This could get ugly." He eyed the Jedi and pushed back the hat brim with the barrel. The Underboss glanced around at the faces. Granger dropped his hand from his saber and back to his side. "All of you put those things away," Tristan ordered holstering his own blaster. "And all of you get yourselves and those bodies out of here. Except you." His gaze turned back to Granger. "And if anybody has a problem with any of this, come see me later."
Tristan motioned for Granger to sit in the seat in front of his desk once the mess was cleaned and the crowd had dispersed. "Now just what in the hell do you think you were doing barging in like that?"
Granger started to speak several times, but stopped. Finally, he managed, "It just did not feel right."
"Feel?" Tristan repeated. "What the Force again?" Tristan paused, but when Granger offered no response, he continued. "Nobody barges in here like that and lives. Nobody puts their hand to a weapon in front of me and lives. Nobody, you hear?"
Those words would have sent Granger's hand back to his lightsaber, but he sensed no threat in them. "I know, boss." Granger considered killing Tristan right then and there. He was not Vesspuccio. The Family would continue to function, but it would be severely crippled and he could return to the Jedi Order with some sense of accomplishment. Yet, if he maintained his composure, he could go even deeper. This was the crucial moment in his mission. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry, huh? Well one thing's for sure. You just bought yourself a helluva reputation." Now Tristan did allow a grin. "A stern man with a code is an uncompromising man. People know where they stand with a man like that and they know not to cross him."
"Sounds a lot like you," Granger did not return the grin, but lightened his tone.
"Exactly," Tristan concurred. "Some of your crew had your back even in here. I told you they would come around… but maybe leading a crew like that is not the best job for you."
"Oh?" Granger raised an eyebrow.
Tristan now smiled broadly, "Yeah, I think I have a much better position for a man of your demeanor."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
After the day was over, Jared reported to the infirmary. His injuries and overall condition were too much for the doctors to approve a return to work. He would be given the low severance package and sent on his way with not even a "thank you" for his decades of labor in the mine. Granger and the younger workers gathered around to watch their mentor collect his belongings from his bunk as an escort of supervisors stood watch to keep him away from the others. The older man was not even allowed time to say good bye.
After lights out, Granger tossed and turned in his bunk. He thought of Jared and the other workers. He thought of the supervisors, one in particular. He would get no sleep that night.
The next morning, Granger pushed a cart of rocks right passed the supervisor who had abused Jared the day before. The man nodded a greeting as if nothing had happened not even recognizing Granger from the previous day. This infuriated the padawan even farther. He pushed the cart to a growing pile of rocks and dumped its contents. Granger paused for just a moment to wipe the sweat from his head after dumping the rocks. He saw the supervisor just a few meters away, studying some schematics. Above the supervisor on a platform was a bundle of equipment. The bundle would only need to slide an inch or two to fall on the hapless supervisor. Or perhaps the platform was not as sturdy as it looked and the whole thing could come tumbling down on top of him. The platform began to shake slightly as Granger stared at it, but before he allowed full vent to his anger, he closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath. That was the Darkside and he would not allow this man to be the one to push him into it. Besides, there would be an investigation even into an accident. If there were any illegal activities happening in the mine, they would cease while the inspectors were sniffing around. That would only further delay whatever justice the workers had coming their way. "And prolong this damn mission," Granger concluded.
"Hey kid!" the supervisor noticed Granger for the first time. "Why are you just staring off into space? It ain't break time! Get back to work!"
"Yes sir," Granger mumbled as he pushed the empty cart back down into the shaft.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Back on Syllian, Iesha could sense her Master's uneasiness even through the holo-projector and across the millions of miles of the void of space. "Everyone has been making their scheduled check-ins Master. Syllian remains relatively peaceful and each member of the team appears to be making progress in their respective missions."
"Excellent. And you have been keeping your scheduled check-ins with Numa?" Granger inquired.
This time it was Iesha who became uneasy. "Of course, Master." The padawan was not lying, she just hated the idea of someone pretending to be her Master while Granger was on such a dangerous mission.
"It is important, Iesha, that we keep up appearances," Granger reminded her.
"I know Master, it's just….. one more thing to do in a sometimes very unexciting schedule."
"Unexciting is good," Granger corrected. "Your skills are nearly complete. You have been given more responsibility than most padawans are allowed to take, but no matter how advanced we become, we can all benefit from some additional guidance."
"Even you Master?" Iesha posed not really expecting an answer.
"Even me….." Granger muttered.
Iesha sensed the growing uneasiness. "You are troubled Master. What is it?"
The blue image twitched as Granger let out a long breath. "Off the record, my trusted padawan?"
"Of course, Master."
"I must confess that I feel a little…lost…." Granger struggled to get the words out.
"Lost?" Iesha was surprised at her Master's frankness.
"It is difficult to follow the Jedi way while surrounded by non-Jedi and pretending to no longer be one. I never realized how important the ongoing fellowship and guidance of the Jedi Order is. I find myself needing to perform tasks to complete this mission that…. Verge on actions that could lead to emotions that could lead to…."
"The Dark Side?" Iesha completed the thought.
Granger pondered silently, then added, "Yes."
"You have told me many times, Master, that we all struggle with this."
"But in the comfort and company of our fellow Jedi," Granger added.
"Master….." Iesha was not quite sure how to phrase her question. "It has long been taught that fear leads to the Dark Side, yes?"
"Right."
"But what if it is the Dark Side that you fear? Where does that take us?"
Granger could not help, but grin. "You will be a very wise knight very soon." She saw his image look to the side. "We have talked long enough. Even secure channels can be traced. I will check in next time. Granger out."
Iesha watched the image fade. She slowly closed her eyes attempting to reach across the stars through the Force. "May the Force be with you, Master."
