Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of Star Wars or any related works. It all belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Fox Studios, etc.

A/N: Well, I once again neglected to check Wookieepedia and now I had to fix another issue. Master Clee Rhara is a female. I have edited everything that pertains to Master Rhara's gender.

EDIT (2-22-15): The preface & chapters 1-9 of this story have now undergone thorough editing for grammar and spelling, as well as a detailed revision of structure, plot flow, characterization, and writing maturity.

Chapter 7: Suspicion


As the two tax sheets glared out at the assembled group, Obi-Wan shared a look of well-hidden surprise with his master.

'I think Miss Rul may have better proofs than expected,' Qui-Gon shared reluctantly over their bond. 'This certainly could not have been easy to obtain from behind royal security.'

Qui-Gon's thoughts trailed off as Master Koth found his voice.

"Do you mean to say," the younger master clarified, "that between collecting the tax money and delivering it to Tevis less than a week later, approximately ten million credits simply disappeared?"

"In a manner of speaking," Maen Rul hesitantly confirmed.

"How would you describe it, then?" Master Billaba questioned the assistant patiently.

"If we look at one more record, I believe you will see what I mean," the young woman responded simply.

Master Windu nodded for the black-haired assistant to input a new datachip and a new display request. A third document displayed as Maen Rul continued to explain, "This is a financial accounting from the royal military. At the beginning you can see the total spending allowance granted to the military as a whole, but that is not alarming upon first glance. The strange part is the significant increase in certain departments under the military. Weapons technology, artillery supplies, fleet transportation…"

Obi-Wan began to see a pattern he didn't like – and one he was sure no one else agreed with at the moment.

"What direct correlation is there between the tax loss and these spending increases?" Master Poof intervened warily. "It is more likely, is it not, that the military allowances were increased by a transfer from less productive departments of the government?"

"Perhaps," Maen Rul waved the argument away impatiently. "But if you add the increase of each department together, it becomes an alarmingly familiar sum."

"Equal to ten million credits, perhaps?" Qui-Gon suggested slowly, speaking for Obi-Wan as well in his new suspicions of the dealings outlined on the projection wall. Obi-Wan felt gratified to learn he was no longer in such a tiny minority with Maen Rul.

"Precisely so, Master Jinn," the young woman nodded appreciatively.

"There is no proof, Miss Rul," Master Koon shook his head. "This is pure conjecture on your part. And biased conjecture, at that, I am sorry to say."

"It may seem so at first glance," Maen Rul breathed grimly, attitude chilled distinctly. Her body had gone completely rigid and her green eyes narrowed. "If not for the simple fact these losses and increases have remained consistent to each other every single year of the past decade."

Master Koon looked slightly taken aback; although most of his Jedi calm remained in tact, his immediate, natural dismissal went unheard. "You have evidence to support his?" he asked instead.

"All here for your viewing," she confirmed sternly, waving a regal, amethyst-covered arm widely over the table. "Ten years worth of records. Some showing a steady tax loss in millions of credits; others the simultaneous spending increase in a combination of military departments. The exact correlation between the loss amount and the increase amount is always indisputable. No matter how much is lost in taxes, that exact amount is always what the departmental increases add up to."

"This is certainly a disturbing aspect of the conflict," Master Giiett frowned.

"What happened ten years ago that might push the king's supporters to such deeds?" asked Master Windu, an equal frown on his features.

Maen Rul did not hesitate to answer, "Eleven years ago, insurgents convinced the people to ask for representation in the Galactic Senate. They hoped it would force an elective monarchy and withdraw the current king from the throne. While they were mistaken on that count, within another year the high king, Jey Bidane, was forced to concede representation. Reuel Maelon was elected by the people as Palesa's first senator."

A collective inhale of discomfort around the table conversely filled Obi-Wan with relief. The council seemed to be coming around to what he had already guessed at once he'd seen the financial reports. Based on his deep study of Palesa, Obi-Wan hadn't taken nearly as long to make a connection between Maen Rul's information, the Palesian conflict, and the assassination of Reuel Maelon four years earlier.

Another connection, more personal in nature, had also not escaped the young man's notice during his studies. Reports described the assassin as having used an asdis dart to kill Reuel Maelon. Considering what Qui-Gon had told him in the healing wing days after the fact, it hadn't been difficult for Obi-Wan to later conclude certain things about his friend, Ree.

A thirteen-year-old girl with golden-brown hair, strange dark blue eyes, a family high in the political arena, personal guards, a wisdom-filled father, and an assassin attempting to shoot her with asdis… Ree was no ordinary girl, and only after placing the name Nevari Maelon to the face he remembered so well, did Obi-Wan understand her father was none other than Senator Reuel Maelon.

What had happened to the girl since she and her gracious mother left Coruscant, Obi-Wan had no idea. He hoped she survived the enemies of her father, but it seemed almost impossible to be hopeful with what Maen Rul told them about the deviousness of Palesa's leadership.

"We may wish to employ further examination of these financial records," Master Windu finally said. "However, that will be a task for the Jedi who are assigned to aide in the Palesian conflict, if such a path is decided upon. For now, let us continue with what other evidence you have."

Though she looked slightly disappointed that a path had not been settled completely, Maen Rul nodded once and removed the three datachips she had used, leaving the projection wall starkly lit until she powered it down with one slender, manicured finger.

"I have some images to show you," she pressed on, moving to the holo projector in the middle of the meeting table. "They were taken six months ago, by a spy who infiltrated the palace as a supposedly loyal servant. In it, you will find the king meeting with someone… rather unexpected."

No more was said, but the holos cropped up clearly enough for all to see. In the first, wearing royal clothing of deep, dark colors, Jey Bidane appeared seated in a small office filled with expensive, gaudy décor in similar dark colors to his clothing. He was a man of average height with thick shoulders and a moderately firm physical appearance; slick, dishwater-blond hair streaked quite liberally with gray and hard brown eyes lacking the warmth of the color they sported.

The next image, displaying a congenial handshake between the king and his visitor, showed more clearly what the interloping servant had been taking pictures for in the first place.

"Isn't that…" Obi-Wan hesitantly spoke up, recognizing the second being.

"Nute Gunray," Qui-Gon finished grimly for him, face awash with gravity, as were those of the entire council.

"This may not be anything other than a discussion of trade routes," Master Billaba said up front, brow wrinkled with a heavy frown as the images progress throughout the meeting between Jey Bidane and Nute Gunray, "but it feels very wrong."

"Speak ill of this alliance, the Force does," Master Yoda added his voice after a long silence. The little master looked grim indeed.

"There is little that can be proven about it, but I do feel the foreboding of the Force just as you say, Master Yoda," Master Tiin admitted, eyeing the form of Nute Gunray as he was captured on the image, leaving the office of Jey Bidane with head held high.

"Miss Rul," Master Poof spoke up thoughtfully, aiming a keen stare at the young woman in question, "this may seem somewhat irrelevant to the current course of discussion, but I must ask you… Do you know why the threats against Palesa's senatorial seat suddenly named you after the New Year, especially after so long of ambiguous claims?"

Wordlessly, the young assistant nodded, features a mask of stone. Obi-Wan suppressed a sigh at the look which filled Miss Rul's eyes. Such grief sat there, weighing the young woman down more than any physical weight could ever hope to.

"It happened a week before the first tangible threat was received," Maen Rul spoke anew, voice quiet, as she finally retook her seat. Obi-Wan sensed she needed the support of a solid chair more than anything else. "Two of our spies were scouting out the restricted entrance to the rear section of the palace grounds, hoping to find ways around the patrols and security measures. While studying the back gates, they happened upon a completely unexpected opportunity. There was a transport breakdown at the back entrance to the palace compound; the gate was left open and the guards distracted sufficiently enough to slip past the unoccupied side of the transport and into the compound."

Taking a brief moment to fiddle with the holo projector at the center of the table with strangely weak fingers, the young woman nervously cleared her throat to announce, "This is the footage they were able to capture."

A wave of Master Yoda's hand dimmed the lights in the room as the holo played out before them all. Proof that the piece was entirely unedited became obvious by the raw cuts of the original recording before the true footage began to roll at last.

The holocam flickered to life just as its panting carrier hurried to hide behind a low wall opposite what must have been the rear palace gates.

"I can't believe this!" a low, intense male voice growled out in amazement. "They just leave the gate unprotected while it's wide open. I didn't know that kind of stupidity still existed in old Bidane's guard! Not after that batch we trounced two years ago."

"They're not so stupid as to miss your big mouth," said another masculine voice, slightly smoother and higher, barely breathing the reproach, although enthusiasm was also present. Judging by the ease with which the softer statement had been heard over the recording, it was clear this person held the holocam somehow.

"I'm not talking any louder than you," the first man snapped, though he did speak a bit quieter than he had the first time around.

"Just keep an eye out," the smoother voice retorted irritably, the words a blatant dismissal.

"Why I always get stuck with you on this kind of mission is anyone's guess," the growling man muttered.

For a while there was blessed silence between the partners. The holocam continued to roll unobtrusively and unsteadily while the two of them crept around low duracrete walls similar to the first they had stowed behind and avoided sentries at points throughout the palace's enormous, sweeping lawn of deep green. Barely had the men safely covered a third of the grassy expanse when something became visible between the nearest duracrete barriers not far ahead.

"What is that?" the rougher man wondered, a frown obvious in his voice as his partner adjusted the holocam for a better view. What showed up looked like a simple green mound risen from the earth, "Looks like a cellar."

"It's too far out here for a cellar," the other man responded logically in a thoughtful murmur, seeming to be thinking out the logistics of this odd sight much faster than he spoke it. "Let's get closer."

The growling partner hummed his agreement and they set off again through the slight maze of low walls. The closer they came to the mound they had seen, and realized quickly there were four other mounds, making five in total spread in a straight line across the lawn, each one indented with a set of duracrete steps leading down into the ground.

The surprising lack of security around the area made getting down one set of steps ridiculously easy for the pair of spies, who soon found themselves standing before a door which was certainly no cellar entrance. The heavy metallic casing and brand new security terminal of a small set of blast doors startled both men into bouncing back a step.

"Kriff!" The coarser of the two swore quietly as he could, but it sounded as though it took all of his willpower to do so. "Galaxies… these are bunkers, Alaul!"

"I see that, Rauha," the other assured him fervently, also trying to remain calm. "We have to get inside."

"We don't have anything to get past that kind of terminal," the man named Rauha snapped, growing a little louder in his agitation. "The palace shouldn't either. Palesa hasn't been updated for this style of technology and you know it. We're old world still. That's part of the reason we wanted representation in the Senate!"

"I know!" Alaul snapped back, taking a deep breath to restore his earlier attempt at calm. "But we have to try, don't we?"

A frustrated sigh escaped Rauha, but the two soon set to work around the edges of the doorway, working inward towards the terminal in the middle.

"It's no use," Alaul exhaled disappointedly, his sudden slump against the wall turning the holocam towards the bottom of the blast doors. "You were right."

Rauha was strangely silent for a long moment, his back coming into view of the holocam, and Alaul sighed again.

"Look at this," Rauha finally gasped, hushed considerably. Alaul stirred from a slouch to follow his partner's pointing finger. After a second of what must have been blank staring at the spot, the smooth-voiced man inhaled sharply and sent the holocam zooming in abruptly on an engraving on the bottom of the door.

The image was indistinct for only a moment as the cam auto-adjusted, and then the picture came in clear as day. A double striped circle surrounded what looked like the letter 'F', although another line came off the left side of the lower horizontal bar, far past where it normally would. Five little stars splattered the inner circle around the lettering.

"That's a strange symbol," Alaul murmured at last.

"I've seen it somewhere before," Rauha whispered with fearful enthusiasm, dampened with annoyance. "If only I could remember where!"

"I don't remember it from anywhere," said Alaul simply. "Let's hope it gives us a clue as to what's inside. You'd better send a transmission to Captain Hantl. She's going to kill us as it is. This certainly won't enhance her mood. Hurry up and—"

"I've got it!" Rauha interrupted excitedly, not seeming to have heard a word his partner said. "It's the symbol for the Trade Federation!"

"What?" Alaul whipped the cam around as he turned to face his companion, horror in his voice. "How do you know that?"

"When Eder and Maen were here several months ago," Rauha explained, energy filling his growl, "Maen was telling a few of us about a trade route Senator Yenega was trying to work out with the Federation. She drew that exact symbol."

"If that's true, we're in more trouble than I thought," Alaul nervously declared. "Among the older space pilots, the Federation has a reputation for smuggling weapons."

"Not that surprising for Bidane, though, is—" Rauha began to say, but was interrupted by yelling from the world above. Sending an anxious look to the cam-bound Alaul, the other man pulled out a blaster from his belt. "Alaul, we should send the holo directly."

"Too risky," Alaul disagreed instantly. "They suspect Yenega right now. What happens if they realize who our real organizer is?"

"We have no choice!" Rauha argued fiercely. "They're too close. We aren't going to live long enough for a re-routed transmission. If this information doesn't go any further than our corpses, the rebellion may as well curl up and die!"

Alaul seemed to hesitate a moment longer, but his resigned and defeated sigh made clear his choice. "I pray this doesn't get intercepted."

When a second bout of yelling flashed above, much nearer to them than the first time, Alaul continued, "Correction, I hope we live long enough to send it."

"Get to work on it." Rauha said firmly of a sudden, standing just as abruptly and tossing the transmitter to his partner. "And hold your silence."

It didn't sound as though Alaul comprehended what was happening for a second, only distantly moving the holocam off himself. By the time he did understand, Rauha's rapid steps had already faded considerably.

"Rauha, no!" Alaul tried to call our strongly yet quietly, but it was no use.

Blaster fire sounded off, above and outside the bunker's entry. Regardless the probable fate of his partner, the remaining spy rushed to tinker with the transmitter and holocam. One final click began the sending process, and the sound of a blaster slipping from its holster followed soon after. Barely had the transmission successfully gone through than did hurried steps and antagonistic shouts come from above, closer than ever. Alaul's feet could be seen hurrying to the base of the steps and then turning back. In a last move of protection against his enemies, the man turned his blaster on the still-running holocam.

The static crept in mere seconds after Alaul fell under the fire of multiple blasters.

Wholly undisturbed by the shocking images it had just shown, the inanimate holo projector waffled through an empty white haze for almost a minute before going into standby mode, a single blink of blue light the only sign it had ever worked. The air of the room seemed to have increased twice its worth in density, a sure sign of the heaviness which had fallen over the minds of its occupants. Obi-Wan returned completely to his wider senses only after he felt an unexpected disturbance in the Force.

Turning directly towards the disturbance, the young man's eyes fell upon Maen Rul, who had risen from her seat without his notice and now faced the white projection wall which had earlier displayed the stolen financial records. From the rigid set of her shoulders, the tension in her back, and the downturn of her raven head, it became clear she was definitely more upset than any in the room were capable of feeling for two unknown men, but her natural strength pushed her to withhold it as much as possible. Not that it was truly a possibility in a room full of Jedi, who could feel her grief barreling through the atmosphere around them, but still she tried valiantly to regain her composure.

Unbidden, the Force itself swirled in Obi-Wan's spirit like a slow and steady snail, encouraging him to rise almost mindlessly and take the three steps necessary to reach Maen Rul's side. Trying his best not to think, simply allowing the Force to guide his movements, Obi-Wan slipped his right arm about the assistant's back and gently pressed on her far elbow to lead her towards the door. The very least they could do for her was to give a few moments of recovery from her sadness.

Although it took a moment to convince movement, the green-eyed young woman finally acquiesced with halting steps. Once standing a few feet down the corridor outside, the Force dissipated to its typical foundational presence, presenting Obi-Wan's mind with the opportunity to resume its normal functions without such thick guidance. In its absence, the youth felt distinctly ruffled he hadn't even consulted his master before leaving. Then again, he had no doubt Qui-Gon would have stopped him if there were a problem.

Standing close beside the young assistant as he now did, Obi-Wan finally made note of her height. Not nearly as tall as her bold bearing first impressed upon him, she stood approximately four inches shorter at full height than he did. The amazing difference one's presentation afforded, in the way of impressions, never failed to surprise him.

"I am sorry, Padawan Kenobi," Maen Rul spoke up quietly and yet sincerely, voice struck by a gentle wobble of audible grief. She had not turned around to face him, and Obi-Wan suspected tears had finally fallen. "Rauha and Alaul were good friends."

"They were brave men," he responded in a hushed tone, not daring to disturb her overmuch with senseless platitudes.

To his surprise, the young assistant let out a weak laugh, breathy due to its melancholy. "Some might call it boldfaced recklessness, but thank you for your words. I know how difficult it can be to find meaningful ones in such cases as this."

"You have done this many times before, haven't you?" he dared to asked, voice dropping to a sympathetic murmur. "Comforting those who have lost friends and loved ones."

"Unfortunately, yes," she admitted much quieter, though at last she straightened from the droop of before. Stealing a deep breath of calm, the young woman turned towards him, long black hair sweeping lightly across her back as she moved. With a strange and sudden jolt, Obi-Wan's cerulean eyes met her mossy green gaze, and remained there for one long, still moment. He found himself pinpointing a dim sparkle of some dark gray, nearly black, shadowing the rich depths of the assistant's eyes.

"Thank you," Maen Rul murmured softly, reaching out to lay a grateful hand on his intertwined fingers.

This time, Obi-Wan knew it had not been meant for his words, but his actions in escorting her out of the room for a moment of private dignity. "You are welcome, Miss Rul."

"Please, call me Maen," she interceded with a briefly raised hand, looking a little sheepish. "I think we have now crossed that barrier to a first name basis, don't you?"

Smiling slightly at this bold yet sensitive young woman, the padawan nodded his agreement. "I suppose we have… Maen. My name is Obi-Wan."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," she repeated slowly, thoughtfully, and then suddenly smiled at him. "It is a fine name. Very distinguished."

Ears flushing as usual, Obi-Wan just nodded his thanks.

"I'm ready to go back in now," Maen covered for his awkward silence, hands crossed in front of her body and a slight twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

The council had little moved since the two of them left the room, it seemed. Qui-Gon offered his padawan a slightly quizzical smile, more an upturn of the corners of his mouth than a true smile, but Obi-Wan just shook his head inconspicuously so as to say 'later.' A similarly inconspicuous nod related his master's understanding. Strangely enough, Obi-Wan didn't remember shielding his master as he talked with the young assistant.

"Forgive me, Masters, for my abrupt departure," Maen began the meeting again. "I would like to explain that Rauha Crin and Alaul Ino were friends of mine, though a considerable age gap lay between us. Their loss was an abrupt blow."

"Take time to heal, such loss does," Master Yoda nodded sagely. "No forgiveness needed, Miss Rul."

Accepting this with a tilt of her head, Maen moved on to less emotional matters. "It may not seem strange for the king to have protected bunkers while he is fighting a battle for the throne. However, our procedures disable the king from having personal artillery funded by illegally obtained public money, as you might have guessed."

"So these bunkers may very well be illegal, if they hold weapons bought with stolen tax money," Master Windu concluded grimly, "and the Trade Federation may be smuggling weapons to King Bidane in secret."

"Considering Nute Gunray's meeting with the king, and the presence of brand new Federation technology on our out-of-date planet," Maen shook her head, "I cannot help but think so."

"This certainly complicates matters," Master Kolar sighed quietly, followed by nods from others on the council.

"You were the organizer they discussed, then?" assumed Master Poof.

"Undoubtedly," Maen confirmed simply.

"Have you any other evidence you wish to present, Miss Rul?" wondered Master Giiett.

"Yes, I do," she agreed, taking out another of her datachips. "Spies garnered a rather disturbing audio sample from a lower class urban area of the planet a few months ago."

As the young woman spoke, Master Yoda waved over the antique divitran, which floated over to the front of the room where Maen stood to place her datachip in the single terminal and play the selected sample. The audio was not the best Obi-Wan had ever heard, but clear enough to understand the sample conversation in its entirety.

A woman's tearful voice was the first thing to be heard, aside from a low, generic static, "Can't you do anything to help, sir? We've looked and looked for days. I'm just so worried about him. Orun is only ten and so alone right now. Please, won't you just help us find him?"

"We have come to assure you of that very purpose, Mrs. Gunod," a stiff, formal voice responded, militaristic in style, as two other voices talked somewhere nearby. The words of the other two voices remained indistinct, however. "Searchers will be sent out. Doubtless they will do their best to find your son. Although we must have all the details of his disappearance if we are to begin."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Hona," the tearful woman replied, the appreciation in her voice as blatant as the sun at noontide. The two nearby voices continued at a level that was quite rude, but given the lack of reaction from the upset woman, they must have been on the other side of the recording device from the mother and lieutenant. "My brother promised to give you all the details in my stead. He was there, too, that night. He will tell you everything that transpired. It's just so upsetting that I tend to wear myself down with it all. And it's hard to imagine him hurt or lost… I hope you can excuse me, sir. My brother would be upset if I didn't rest now."

"Of course. We understand the circumstances are troubling for you," the lieutenant answered with distant, insincere sympathy. The background, which had been so full of the other, unknown conversation, was strangely silent now. "Good day, Madame."

The crunch of heavy steps receded from the spot and a door closed with creaking age and dry hinges.

The divitran stopped playing the sample, leaving only a low hum of the gears and shifters working inside the machine.

"What has this to do with your situation?" Master Yaddle asked curiously, though some measure of compassion bled through in her voice for the upset mother of the audio sample.

"Orun Gunod's sudden 'evaporation' is one of many over the last three years," Maen explained darkly, eyes burning with discontent. She clearly took these losses very personally, regardless whether she knew the people involved or not. "The disappearances range planet-wide and across hierarchical levels, although many of them are focused in the lowest classes of Palesian society. However, things like age, race, gender, occupation, income, physical appearance…none of those things truly correlate between all the cases. We finally decided there must be multiple reasons, depending on the person who disappeared. To make things worse, no one seems to realize the large scale of the situation. Most major city-dwellers don't even realize there have been disappearances."

"Are there any specific individuals who are always present at the investigation of these disappearances?" asked Master Tiin.

"Tlan Hona, the lieutenant you heard in the sample, has looked into most of them," was the young woman's shrugging reply. "But that holds no real bearing that we can see. Lieutenant Hona is head of the local law enforcement in the large region where the Gunod farm sits, which means his offices have been hit most stridently by the disappearances."

"Is there any direct proof to connect this particular incident to the king's supporters?" Master Koth intervened.

"That is the other reason I brought the divitran," the green-eyed assistant answered. "Other than simply hearing this conversation, I need to break the audio sample into layers, so I may find the hidden information our insurgents described in their communiqué. I have been unable to do so until now, given other engagements in the senate and otherwise."

"A tranciphar is installed in the wall," Master Windu interrupted suddenly, pointing in the indicated direction. "You may use that, if you so choose. The greater quality will no doubt be much more beneficial to your uses."

"Indeed it would." Maen looked eager, in a subdued way, to use the machine offered, heading over to it with the datachip in hand and quickly inserting it. "Thank you."

As the tranciphar began its work, Master Piell moved forward with a new line of inquiry. "You say these disappearances have been taking place over a period of three years. Is there anything, anything at all, which may have occurred at the same time? A cause, a trigger, from three years ago that may have been overlooked?"

"No, there are none," Maen sighed unhappily. "We have searched wide and narrow, high and low, but there was absolutely nothing. What we have found in our search is only one strange phenomena. It may possibly be related to the disappearances somehow, but it is not the cause of them. At least, not that we are able to tell."

"What phenomena would that be?" asked Qui-Gon, chin leaning forward on his folded hands in thought. From the profound and devastatingly serious expression in the man's blue-gray eyes, Obi-Wan gathered his master was fully on Maen's side now, regardless what the council ended up deciding about the Palesian conflict. For only the second time in his years as Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan, Obi-Wan truly knew how he felt about championing a potentially refused cause.

"After the first year of disappearances, there was an odd surge in the population of the lower-middle class," Maen replied with a frown. "With no tangible reason evident, the middle class expanded in a single boom. It has not happened so blatantly since, but there has been a definite increase in the middle classes all the same."

The tranciphar suddenly beeped its readiness, and Maen swiftly played the first layer. As was the design of the layering device, the first layer was the most obvious one, which meant the group listened to Lieutenant Hona and Mrs. Gunod a second time. Quite in contrast to the first listen, however, the audio sample's quality had taken a complete one-eighty and become nearly equal to that of a professional recording. The static which had been so prevalent on the divitran now disappeared entirely, thanks to the tranciphar's richer degeneration capabilities.

The second layer of the sample proved to be the workings of large machinery near the lieutenant and the mother, although what kind was imperceptible to Obi-Wan's ears. Maen, however, knew almost instantly.

"That is a line seeder!" she exclaimed in surprise, eyes widening marginally. "I never heard that on the divitran."

"Something significant about this equipment there is?" Master Yoda asked, ears lifted in interest.

"Only a select amount of farms on Palesa have such machines," Maen answered, suddenly frowning. "All such seeders are halfway across the planet from the Gunod farm, as far as I know. This is certainly strange."

"Could your informant have been mistaken as to the location of his recording?" Master Kolar considered pensively. "Or, more likely, passed you false information?"

"Normally, I would be tempted to employ such caution," the raven-haired assistant shook her head, "but our line scanner verified Bakun's position. And that piece of our equipment is brand new."

"Is it possible the line was tampered with outside of either receiver?" Obi-Wan pushed himself to speak up. He had never been so heavily involved in the council's meetings this way, and it felt disconcerting to some degree.

"That is always a very real possibility, I grant you," Maen grimaced at the very idea. "But I know exactly where Bakun would have been standing, as I stood there myself. I was able to talk with Tecura Gunod personally on my last visit to Palesa."

"Was this the same visit Rauha Crin spoke of?" Qui-Gon clarified.

The young woman nodded a bit sadly, tucking a stray piece of inky hair behind her ear. "It was actually part of the reason I joined Eder on that trip. I had been long concerned and hoped to get first hand information. Unfortunately, fear pervades most of the locals in an impenetrable haze. Tecura was the only one willing to speak with me about the disappearance."

"Where did the boy actually disappear?" Master Giiett wondered as everyone at the table attempted to piece together the mystery.

"His own home – probably even his own bed," the young woman responded, frown deepening, if possible. "Tecura was awoken by a muffled scream that night. She rushed out into the main room and found the door swinging open. Her brother, Ekan Col, followed barely a few steps behind her. Together they rushed to Orun's room. His bed had been slept in, but the boy was gone. Ekan and Tecura ran outside, but the kidnapper and the boy were nowhere in sight. Given the nearby forest on one side of the property, the belief is that the kidnapper made it almost to the tree line when Orun screamed for help. Of course, by then it was too late."

"Did you receive this audio sample after your visit with Tecura Gunod?" Master Windu asked, to which Maen nodded her confirmation, opening her mouth to reply, but any further speech ground to an indefinite halt as the third layer of the sample began to play.

"He… he's safe, isn't he?" a man stuttered nervously, breathing heavily out of fear. "He's not going to be… beaten or… starved, is he?"

"The boy is apart of King Bidane's greater plans, Farmer Col," another man responded firmly, coldly. Disgust was plain in his voice for the sniveling man. "We would not wish to damage any participants in the loyal reign of the new monarchy. His life is of great value to the King."

"Good, good," the meeker of the two replied, his voice cracking tremulously. "I… My nephew is a good boy. He is brave and hardworking. I just… my brother-in-law's farm is failing. I need that equipment and the money for more supplies… As long as he is safe. Just, please, as long as he is safe!"

Upon these words, the man's voice had grown in strength and desperation, but a swift hiss cut off his loud volume. A beat passed, then two, and finally the colder of the two men spoke anew in a quiet voice.

"The rest of your payment is secured," he remarked, a sneer plain in his voice. "Your nephew is no longer of concern to you. Tend to your farm and keep your mouth shut. I needn't tell you that your equipment becomes forfeit if you break this silence, I hope?"

"No, no! I won't say anything to anyone!" Ekan Col desperately promised, a slight edge of hysteria to the tone. "I swear to you, Captain Tomu!"

"Excellent," the captain murmured. "Good tidings in your prosperity, Farmer Col."

The crunch of Captain Tomu's footsteps faded, followed by those of Ekan Col as he more slowly moved away.

More layers to the sample played out, mostly static and the sounds of nature surrounding the area, until the tranciphar switched off automatically and left a deadening silence amongst those assembled.

Disgusted, Obi-Wan's jaw clenched at the callousness of Ekan Col; the man's complete disregard for basic human freedom and the ties of loyalty that should bind him to his sister and her son, even when his situation became as dire as he described in the recording. Qui-Gon had to reign in the padawan's runaway feelings, firmly grasping onto the young man through their training bond.

'Control yourself, padawan,' was the Jedi Master's stout rebuke. 'Calm yourself and release your emotions. Focus on the mission before you.'

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, following the words of his master instinctively through the grip of resentment and anger, allowing his feelings to drift into the Force and leave him free to think with clarity and good sense once more.

'Well done,' Qui-Gon complimented him lightly.

Opening his eyes at this praise, Obi-Wan thankfully found no one staring directly at him for his spike of feelings. Rather, everyone looked – or tried not to look, as he realized – towards Maen Rul to his left. Turning himself to face the young woman, Obi-Wan felt great pity for her. She looked positively sick to her stomach, eye closed tightly against the onslaught of emotion she obviously felt. Master Yoda laid a hand on her exposed fingers, sending waves of ease and understanding to the assistant.

"I could not have imagined this," she finally spoke, voice cracking slightly. Obi-Wan winced at the pained sound. "This must be the connection. Those willing to take payment for someone near to them. To allow not so much a kidnapping as an exchange of… goods."

Maen spat out the last word reproachfully, revulsion lining her young and stately face as her eyes snapped open fiercely.

"A tragedy this is," Master Yoda sighed, patting the young woman's arm. "Signs of a dangerous plan I see in your evidence. Discuss this the council must. Any other proofs, have you, Miss Rul?"

Inhaling sharply and deeply of a sudden, Maen seemed to recover herself, if only a little, and reached into the center of the table to pull out a small, sealed lab container and a preservation slide. "Only this. It is a sample of a crop contaminant one of my associates found on the Gunod farm while I spoke with Tecura. We know it is not native to Palesa, but we haven't the technology or knowledge to determine what it is or where it is really from."

"Have the crops on Palesa seen ill in recent years?" Qui-Gon assumed intuitively.

"All of them, except the royal farming grounds," Maen said through gritted teeth. "The palace has been selling seeds, supplies, and crops to the farming community at exorbitant prices; nearly four times what it used to be on our supply route from Bandomeer."

Anger again coursed through Obi-Wan at the manipulation of the Palesian government in the lives of its people. He was surprised, however, by the utter strength of his emotions. It seemed to him that he felt the anger of two people, rather than merely himself, but that made absolutely no sense. Sensing others emotions was possible for the Jedi, but it rarely made so powerful a connection unless a bond was present. Yet Qui-Gon was not angry in the same way, Obi-Wan could tell. The Jedi master felt calm and collected, in spite of his distaste. The young man could not examine the feeling with the meeting still in progress, so he pushed it away for the time being.

"Why do the farmers not continue the supply route with Bandomeer, then?" Master Poof asked confusedly.

"The route has been littered with dangerous attacks whenever they attempt the journey," Maen sighed, reaching up in a rare sign of vulnerability to rub her temples. "We don't understand the sudden brutality along that route, since it was always very clear. Nevertheless, the king closed that route a few years ago, due to the danger and losses it presents."

"That is a rather ironic coincidence," Qui-Gon remarked grimly, brushing his beard with two fingers.

"Quite so," Master Windu agreed, but moved on quickly. "We will be happy to examine this contaminant, Miss Rul, to determine its origin and pathology."

"And now, discuss this situation and meditate on it, the council will," Master Yoda decided in a very final way. "Take time to rest, I would suggest you do, Miss Rul. Communicate with Master Jinn we will, when finished we are."

"Thank you," Maen sighed in some relief. "I will do as you say, Master Yoda."

"May the Force be with you," the diminutive master dismissed them.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon stood with a slight bow, following Maen Rul's rapid retreat from the room. The young woman stopped tiredly just out in the hall, appearing too worn out to continue further as she leaned back against the wall.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asked a bit awkwardly, feeling like a complete idiot for asking so mindless a question.

"No," was Maen's simple answer, just as weary as her pace had been. "I feel distinctly ill that a man would sell out his own nephew. An innocent boy barely ten years of age."

"There are many evils in the galaxy," Qui-Gon sighed understandingly, laying a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder to calm his self-flagellation over the initial question. "I hope we may aid you in clearing up those that have overrun Palesa, before more innocents are misused this way."

"I thank you for your hopes, Master Jinn," Maen smiled bitterly. "But the safest time for me to truly begin solving these wrongs – it is three months away, as you recall. I cannot hold out any illusion that more unlucky citizens will not be taken in such a vile manner during that stretch of time."

"Then we must gain as much evidence and information as we may, while confined to Coruscant," Qui-Gon assured the young woman firmly. "The very least we may do is examine your contaminant sample, but I am certain more may be done if we work carefully."

"If the council approves a course of action, you mean," Maen sighed unhappily, shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly.

Although Qui-Gon did not reply, a hint of a smile crossed the man's face, and Obi-Wan quickly recognized the look of the maverick within the master. Inadvertently, the padawan found himself grinning in anticipation. Even if the council assigned them only to protection and denied an investigation, Jinn and Kenobi were not a team so easily dissuaded when their interests aligned this blatantly.

'Ah, padawan, we finally see eye to eye,' Qui-Gon amusedly nudged him.

'Hoth must be melting, master,' Obi-Wan teased in return, earning a mental swat.

'Impudent,' was all the Jedi Master said, a distinct twitch to his lips.

Waiting became the two Jedi as the council continued in its deliberations, but Maen could not sit nearly so at ease. Five minutes after having left the room, the green-eyed assistant set about pacing the hallway in which they stood.

After another ten minutes of this, Qui-Gon stepped forward determinedly. "Miss Rul, I suggest we three take lunch together in the temple commissary while the council decides."

Reluctance filled the young woman's sun-kissed features, bringing Obi-Wan forward insistently, "The council will contact us when they have come to a decision. We are not doing a single bit of good by remaining here in idleness."

Throwing a resigned, but twinkling glance in the ginger-haired padawan's direction, Maen finally nodded. "All right. You have a point about that. Lunch does sound like a good idea."

"Excellent," Qui-Gon smiled slightly at Obi-Wan in gratitude for his help, moving to lead the way to the commissary and leaving his two young companions to walk behind him, side by side as they traveled through the pristine temple hallways.

"The council will contact us soon enough, Maen," Obi-Wan attempted to reassure the anxious young woman, whose entwined fingers fidgeted. "They do understand your nerves and the seriousness of the situation. I honestly believe they will allow us to work toward a solution for your home world."

"You have great faith in your council, don't you?" Maen asked curiously, gazing searchingly up into his cerulean eyes.

"The councilors are neither perfect nor infallible," was his ready admission, "but their wisdom is widely known and trusted among us. In my opinion and personal experience, it is a rare case where they do not choose a wise path for those involved."

"I wish my government instilled such confidence," she responded darkly, tossing some of her raven tresses back over her shoulder. "It is good to see you have trustworthy leaders in your life."

"I'm grateful for it," Obi-Wan smiled slightly, sympathy leaking through in his tone. "I'm sorry you haven't the same good fortune."

A silence overcame them, hardly marking the passage of distance as they continued following a remarkably silent Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan couldn't tamp down his surprise that the older man had not yet put in an opinion on any of this. Usually the Jedi Master spoke very openly about his frequent contradictions with the council and his opinions on the world's evils. Shrugging it off, the padawan returned his attention to the quiet assistant beside him.

After several more long moments, Maen concluded, "Trust is a rare commodity. I must learn to live with that knowledge."

"Mustn't we all," Qui-Gon murmured, barely audible as the commissary doors came into view and the general hustle and bustle of many Jedi taking lunch filtered into everyone's ears. A memory of three years prior flashed through the Jedi Master's mind, and by the sudden snap of shields, it was clear he hadn't meant for Obi-Wan to see.

Grimacing at the memory of Xanatos and Bruck escaping them during the temple fiasco, Obi-Wan wished his master did not have to worry so constantly about what betrayal might next befall them from two of their most personal enemies.


A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed Chapter 6: Knowledge!

Pronunciation Guide:
King Jey (zhay) Bidane (BEE-dah-nay)
Senator Reuel (ROO-ell) Maelon (MY-lohn)
Nevari (nay-VAH-ree)
Rauha (RAW-hah) Crin (krihn)
Alaul (ah-LAWL) Ino (EE-no)
Lieutenant Tlan (tih-LAHN) Hona (ho-nah)
Orun (oh-RUNE)
Tecura (teh-KOOR-ah) Gunod (goo-NOHD)
Ekan (EH-kahn) Col (kohl)