She needed some serious help. This wasn't something easy for Ahsoka to say, even to herself. Though Coruscant is a melting pot for many cultures and races, there isn't many Togrutas so it's safe to assume she'll stick out like a sore thumb. Profiling isn't above law enforcement. Weaponless and without an ally inside the Jedi Order, her goal was simple... at least when said aloud.
"Now if I was Mykle..." She used all of her mental energy putting herself in his shoes. Her and Cecily didn't have much of a relationship and her contact list is inferior to Mykle's. If anyone knew the seedy workings of Coruscant's scum is Mykle. A fact Ahsoka would deride Mykle for in the past. How the tables have turned.
Her first visit was for Cecily. "I don't know where Mykle is. He spent the night here and when I came back he was gone and so was his stuff."
It was raining, Ahsoka's clothes clung to her body as she shivered. Cecily drapes a blanket over her. "Maybe you should stay here." Cecily suggests.
"No, I'm fine." She protests out of pride.
"Oh, really? You're on the run from the Jedi and lower level law enforcement." She points out.
"Well, I..." She relented her situation wasn't ideal and accepted Cecily's offer, grateful for her generosity.
"Tomorrow we'll search the lower levels of Coruscant. Mykle usually hangs out down there."
That is exactly where the two headed the next day. The sewage the storm drains on the upper levels took on, it burped right out on to the poorly constructed streets and sidewalks of the lower levels. Tent cities as far as the eye could see. Considering how rich Coruscant is, it's startled Ahsoka to see this part of the planet.
"How can people live like this?" Ahsoka wondered. Cecily resisted to urge to snap at the naive Togruta knowing she didn't mean to say what she did in a way that blamed the poor.
"It's been over a generation since a chancellor openly cared about all and didn't privatize his financial success." Cecily mumbled, urging Ahsoka to not talk to much, least they lose their low profile.
"This cowl is itchy." Ahsoka complains, resisting the urge to scratch at her deathly sensitive montrals.
"You wanna be recognized?" She hissed. "You're face is plastered all over every street corner from top to bottom.
Meanwhile, Mykle was busy with his own search. But not for Ahsoka. Coming around to the idea his friend wanted nothing to do with him, despite the irregularity of the circumstance. Mykle remembered the nano-droids Zhestkiy used to bomb the garage the previous day. He distinctly remembered his eyes coming across nanotechnology on the table next to a Jerry can... presumably filled with water which they'd use to waterboard him if they so wished. Mykle briefly thought how lucky he was to have not been put in such a position.
"Is Zhestkiy responsible for the hanger bay bombing?" Mykle thought to himself. He needed to get his hands on Zhestkiy's supply to compare. Such weaponry is outlawed, though sold on the black market. Out of the two black market salesman he knew, only one was seedy enough to deal such sensitive materials for a sizable profit.
Zhestkiy drank himself silly every day. The way he handled his liquor impressed even his critics. Though wobbly, he managed to perform his duties well enough to avoid catastrophe. It helped matters Zhestkiy is a happy, proud drunk. Paling around with underlings he hadn't alienated or scared off by asking too much of them. The day he demanded Mykle bomb Everett's garage - which was previously his property, Zhestkiy was unnaturally belligerent, and even more stupid than before. Surely he'd inherit the winds of his actions.
"Only (hiccup) thing that brings me joy, is this bottle." Zhestkiy tells his underboss Leo, utterly disinterested in another one of Zhestkiy's rants. Which'll it be today? Giddy self-promotion or a self-loathing that'll make Leo want to stab himself in the eye with a toothpick? The question itself was more intriguing. "Well, That and knowing that scum Everett is hightailing it out of my town."
"He's probably running scared now." Leo hyped up his boss, as he poured him his third glass of the hardest liquor on the shelf. "I could use more of that stuff." Leo elected to be coy at the risk of the room being bugged.
"Uhh." Zhestkiy had to admit he has no clue what Leo is referring too.
"What was loaded on to the truck." Leo had to be extra patient with Zhestkiy, least he become agitated and violent as he tended to become when he felt he was made to look stupid.
"Oh, yes!" Zhestkiy bellowed, the two wires in his head finally connecting. "Head to my garage and take whatever you need."
"You keep sensitive material in your garage?" Leo knew Zhestkiy was a little unhinged, the question of how much so remained undetermined.
"Why not?"
Mykle has gained entry to Zhestkiy's compound by pure negligence on the part of his security team leaving the door unlocked and unmanned for a brief time. He's spent the last hour trying to pry just one crate open, only he did not know the code. When Leo walked down Mykle rushed to conceal himself, watching from not so far as Leo opened the crate Mykle's tried to access moments earlier.
"Whoa!" Leo gasped. "This is some sick gear." He practically drooled on it he was so amazed. "Zhestkiy wasn't lying when he said he got the good." Overly excited, Leo left the crate unattended and open after grabbing what he wanted. Mykle snuck over to take a picture of the crates inhabitants.
"So it was Zhestkiy who bombed the hanger bay... he's always resented the Republic for ending his universal arms trade." The logic how destroying a few ships would help Zhestkiy's cause didn't add up. Zhestkiy never was the one to act within the bounds of reason.
Mykle was about to take the fight to Zhestkiy right then and there. Glancing up towards the window he saw he and Leo has departed. On the bright side this left him to take a closer look at Zhestkiy's belongings. Logs of his dealings with the Separatists go way back, before the war even began. Mykle took what he needed, slipped it into his jacket pocket and slipped out the window.
Anakin's confidence in his Padawan's innocence began to wane - to say the least. He cursed himself for not keeping a better and closer eye on her. His passion rubbed off her in the worst ways. The story itself, recited to him multiple times, continued to make little sense.
"Ahsoka killed Leta to cover her tracks for orchestrating the hanger bay bombing." None of that registered with him. Sure, she went out of her way to pay the prisoner a visit, that didn't mean Ahsoka was intent on keeping Leta quiet. If so was the case, why didn't she do it the day before, or the day prior. Why risk Leta squealing Ahsoka as the puppet-master for so long?
Yet, what else scenario was there to explain the video explicitly showing Ahsoka choking the life out of Leta? Her hands raised in her usual stance when using Force augmentation.
"I know this is hard for you, Anakin." Obi-Wan was in foreign territory. He didn't know exactly how to go about comforting his former apprentice. "You have to trust the council will find Ahsoka and sort this out."
"It sounds more like they've already made up theirs minds whether she's guilty or innocent." He replies dismissively. "Even Plo Koon doubted her innocence." Obi-Wan remained silent. "Judging by your look you're also on the fence?"
"Anakin-" In any other instance Skywalker would have ranted and raved to Kenobi, calling him a passionateness fool for believing someone he's known for years could do such a thing. But he was worn out, running on fumes.
"No. It's your opinion and I have to respect that." He gets up to leave Obi-Wan behind, ignoring his pleas to return. He had enough of the Jedi and their red tape. It was time he took matters into his own hands.
"I can't go to the police" Mykle laminates, contemplating his next move. "... Everett and Zhestkiy won this town. I give them the evidence, they'll burn it and then slit my neck, chop my body up and throw me into the river... wow, that's unnecessary violent. Something is really wrong with me." He shakes his head. "Focus!"
His wrist vibrated, the com-link going off felt like it was connected to Mykle's bones whenever he got a call. "Hello." He didn't recognize the number.
"You want blood?" The deep voice didn't throw Mykle off, assuming this was a prank.
"I don't have time for prank calls." He was about to hang up when the facade of the caller washed away.
"Hold on!" He urged him not to. "I can help you find and destroy Zhestkiy."
"Yeah, right."
"I have my issues with him too. I can't get to him though, he'd spot me. However, he's taken kindly to you." The caller explained.
"How do I go about it?" Mykle asks, buying in a little more.
"Zhestkiy is heading to a club right now."
"That's awfully specific." Mykle rolls his eyes, again ready to hang up.
"He usually hangs out at The Garden Room. Don't believe me? Wouldn't hurt to at least try." The caller hangs up, leaving Mykle to decide whether he is to take the tip or not.
"He's probably lying... wouldn't know that until I actually go." Mykle did decide to take the mysterious strangers' tip and went to The Garden Room, finding Zhestkiy's car parked in the lot across the street. His com-link vibrated again.
"So you decided to listen." The caller sounds more confident than before.
"Yeah. They don't allow weapons inside and I'm sure Zhestkiy doesn't need to adhere to those same rules." Mykle told him.
"I have you some protection. It's behind the latrine, third stall."
"How very kind of you. Hopefully you kept it clean?" Mykle didn't get a chance to hear the man's response, as he hung up. "Nobody says goodbye anymore." Mykle grumbles before gaining entry.
"I.D please." The muscled bouncier demanded. Reaching into his back pocket Mykle pulled out a fake I.D he had Cecily make him. It was so he could get a job as a bartender the first month he left the Jedi Order. Money was tight and Mykle had nowhere else to turn besides the very late night shift at a watering hole in the seediest part of Coruscant. Either Mykle forgot the name of the joint or blocked it out of his mind. Fortunately the bouncier wasn't privy how can be forged and how to spot their falsities. Mykle gained entry and wasted no time making a beeline to the refresher to retrieve the weapon stashed for him.
The club was anything but quiet. Mykle couldn't hear himself think and the blinding, swirling colors disoriented him slightly. It took him a few minutes to spot Zhestkiy. The remnants of his connection to the Force warned him something was amiss. Be that as it may, Zhestkiy was a criminal too unpredictable to be left alone. Eventually, he'd call Mykle for another insane favor he probably wouldn't return unscathed from.
"Mykle!" Zhestkiy spotted the boy, he gingerly approached him. "How are you?" A bit startled, Mykle answered he's fine. "Good. Good. You want to drink?"
"No." This wasn't the time to drink.
"I want to talk to you." Zhestkiy told him. "Come, follow me." Two guards got up and followed Zhestkiy to the back of the club. The lights were dim, he could barely make out the individuals attaching themselves to Zhestkiy's coattails. "I've heard about your Jedi friend." He starts, baffling Mykle.
"You did?"
"Yes, and I am sorry." Mykle waited to see if there was anything more to this, only to realize there wasn't. "I know why you're here."
"You do?" The guards suspiciously got closer.
"You think I had something to do with your friend?"
"I've noticed your language towards the Jedi." Mykle points out, his eyes darting from side to side.
"Yours wasn't much kinder." Zhestkiy retorts. Who among us has not said an unkind word to anyone or towards anything?"
"Only one person can buy the type of nano-droids used to bomb the hanger bay, I doubt it was some petty bounty hunter. No one is crazy enough to have such a target willingly painted on their backs." Mykle felt a hand clasps atop his shoulder, he jerks it away and delivers a swift punch to the guard's jaw which sends him tumbling like a boxer who had just taken the knockout blow. The second guard was about to act, Mykle incapacitated him with a shot to his foot, then he points his pistol towards Zhestkiy's chest.
"I knew you were good." Zhestkiy smiles.
"You set Ahsoka up!" Mykle belted out. "Out of all the Jedi to entangle in your erratic escapades, it's my friend."
"Precisely why I wouldn't do something like this." Zhestkiy preached his innocence. "Mykle, I promised no harm would come to your friends if you did my bidding. You kept your end of the bargain, I kept mine."
"I doubt that." Mykle's middle finger hugs the trigger.
"Then do what you came here to do, two-bit." Zhestkiy opens his jacket to show his chest.
Mykle wanted to kill Zhestkiy. It all be so easy. Regardless if his defense held water Zhestkiy wasn't a good man to begin with. Above all else, Mykle did value loyalty. Doubts swirled around him. Mykle decided on one solution. He pulled the trigger, down went Zhestkiy.
"Did you kill him?" Mykle made the call to the man.
"No. I don't think your tip was correct." He explains.
"What?" The man began irritable.
"I know someone who knows a few good eggs inside the police force, with any luck Zhestkiy won't be seeing the light of day." Mykle summarized his middle ground approach.
"We need to talk."
"When?"
"Right now."
The man came from out of the shadows under the stairwell. He wasn't a man at all. He was Mykle's age, bruised chin and a swelled right cheek.
"Who are you?"
"I served with you in The Clone Wars, Mykle. You're on your way towards finding the Sith Lord, but you'll have to trust me." Mykle was taken aback someone in the Jedi Order actually believed him. "Zhestkiy is a part of a cabal to destroy the Jedi Order and sent the capital of Coruscant into chaos. He is too dangerous to keep alive." Mykle took one look at Zhestkiy and then at his pistol. "There is much work to be done."
"Then you do it yourself." Mykle tosses him the pistol. Without hesitation he pulls the trigger and did so again to finish off the wounded guard, who was in the process of bleeding out.
"You have to deal in absolute to survive this universe." He scolds. "The name is Mijo."