Part II
Dealings of the Enemy
Chapter 28
Hospitality
The night was no longer young, and the skies were pitch black. The stars, which were usually visible were covered by thin clouds high above. Frinch's compound was not on high alert, but some of the guards were somewhat aroused with suspicion that there was an intruder. Nonetheless, they found no evidence of it, for Revan Lena and HK-47 made special efforts not to engage anyone and stay under the strobe lights.
Revan and his mismatched team had exited the compound but had not yet signaled the Ebon Hawk to pick them up. They had turned off their communicators in relentless pursuit of the teenage spy girl they were following out of the compound. Though they had witnessed only the taking of harmless pictures of Frinch, they were still interested in finding out who she was and who she was working for. About a mile outside the compound, the girl stopped.
"Alright, alright!" she said. Revan was right behind her, but crawling on the ground, out of her sight had she turned around. "You can stop following me now…I know someone's back there. Come out please..."
"How did you know we were following you?" asked Revan, as he stood up from the grass. Lena was out of sight but Revan sensed her nearby, so he didn't bother to look back.
"You here to take me back to Frinch?"
"What gives you that idea?" Revan responded.
"The fact that you followed me this far after leaving his compound when you could have gone in virtually any direction, that's what gives me the idea."
"So what's a sweet kid like you doing in the compound of the most dangerous man on the planet?"
"Nothing important…" she said. "Why?"
"I saw you taking pictures of Frinch," said Revan with an air of impatience. "Cut the crap. What's your business on that compound?"
"Umm…" she stammered. "If you really knew what I was doing, you wouldn't be asking that question."
"Look," said Revan. "Let's just say that you weren't the only trespasser on Frinch's compound. Now, if I worked for Frinch, I wouldn't waste time asking you all these questions. I'd probably take you back to him, and he and his lackeys would beat it out of you. But I don't work for Frinch. So why don't you tell me what you were doing there, before I decide that I do want to work for him."
"Alright fine, Mr. Rhetorically Impressive Asshole," she replied. "I was taking pictures of him in his wine cellar."
"Threat: You would do well to not address the Master with such impertinence. Perhaps a blaster shot to your kneecap will make you understand…meatbag."
"Uh…" she stammered.
"Ignore my HK," said Revan. "Why were you doing that?"
"Why do you think?" she snarled. "Alcohol is strictly forbidden on this planet; prohibition law by the federal referendum. Now that I have evidence of his illegal smuggling and storage of wine, I can hold it against him and force a bribe."
"That's quite the plan," said Revan. "Especially the plan of a seventeen year old girl; tell me something. Are you terminally ill?"
"What a lovely conversation we're having."
"Do you realize what kind of mess you would be getting yourself into?" Revan asked. "That man could and would kill you so easily. That leverage you have over him is of no use to you if you're dead."
"Observation: Data analysis indicates that Mr. Sacre Frinch is responsible for approximately three hundred assassinations. This is not impressive by my standards, but according to all autopsy reports, none of these dead have had any leverage over him after their assassination. Therefore, the Master is correct…meatbag."
The girl merely stared at HK-47. Their words seemed to have hit her like a brick to the face.
"Why is this droid calling me a meatbag? I'm a vegetarian…"
"Statement: By all classification, you are a being with enough organs and enough water in your system to create a troubling slosh when you move; therefore you are an organic fleshbag, which I have shortened to the phrase 'meatbag' under the request of the Master. Request: Master, may I dispatch this foolish meatbag to save you the trouble of another boring conversation?" Her mouth gaped open.
Revan laughed again. "Stand down HK, I still have some questions. Was this brilliant scheme your own, or did someone talk you into it?"
"Mine of course," she said. "My parents think I'm at a sleepover right now."
"Do you have anyone to cover for you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did you tell them at whose house you're sleeping over at, and tell the friend to cover for you if your parents call them?"
"No…should I have?"
Revan rolled his eyes and continued staring at the girl. "Seriously…what the hell kind of spy are you? Have you never done this kind of thing before?"
"No, I haven't," said the girl. "But I'm tired of this place; there's no future for me on this planet. I'm not a girl of many decisions, but I want off this world, no matter what it takes."
Revan continued staring. This was beyond anything he initially thought of. He was expecting a much more useful answer, but this was an innocent teenage girl in way over her head.
What was he to do? Many follow up questions were available to him, but for reasons that even he didn't know, he chose this: "So basically what you're telling me is that you…a seemingly normal teenage non-troublemaker girl decided that your first true act of rebellion was to sneak around the compound of the most dangerous man on the planet and find a way to get incriminating evidence on him…all for the sake of you bribing him to get enough money to leave." Revan rolled his eyes. "And here I was initially thinking you were an assassin!"
"Well I'm not," she said.
"Fair enough," said Revan. "Let's say you got those hands on a nice sum of money; what's the next step? Buy a ship? Buy transport?"
"Buy my own ship, of course!" she said, as if the answer was obvious. "I know how to fly."
"Do you now?" said Revan, fairly impressed. "That's a nice skill to have."
"Yeah well…my brother found his own way off the planet, and now he's flying for the KR's. I'm hoping to join him."
"KR's?" Revan asked. "What's that?"
The girl looked highly perplexed. "Are you kidding? You don't know what KR stands for?"
"Let's say I don't…"
"You're serious…and clueless!" she said. "It stands for the...Kraxis Rebellion," she leaned forward and whispered. Then she pulled back. "Moron…"
"Kraxis Rebellion?" asked Revan. "Who…"
"SHHH!" the girl whispered. "Are you terminally ill? Don't say it out loud!"
Revan furrowed his brow again. "Kraxis Rebellion?" he thought. He wondered what that was and if it had anything to do with the True Sith. He had to ask for more.
"What's your name kid?" The girl hesitated. Revan reached out his hand. "Look, I understand you have nothing to gain from telling us this, but I'll make you a deal. If you tell us everything about that, we'll get you off this planet and perhaps we'll even take you to the…KR's."
"Like you're going to find them," she said. "You really have no idea what you're talking about, do you…"
"Fine," said Revan. "We'll get you off this planet and settle you someplace nice where you can go your own way. Suitable?"
The girl thought for a moment. "I…no my parents would kill me for going off with strangers, so I'm going to have to say no."
"That won't be a problem," Revan said with a bit of determination. "I'll make them an offer they can't refuse."
"What kind of offer?" she asked. "They're middle class, so the only language they understand is money."
"Then money is what they'll get," Revan said. "I'm telling you, it won't be a problem. But I want that information."
The girl thought again for a moment. "Look, this may sound strange to you, but I'm actually not much of a troublemaker."
"Well you certainly aren't one for first impressions," said Revan.
"But, a lot of my friends are," she continued. "What I have learned from them is, it behooves oneself to keep their wits. Long story short, this offer sounds way too good to be true."
"Ooh," said Lena, finally standing up and moving. "I like this one. She's smarter than she looks."
"Observation: That makes only one of us…"
"That better not be a dumb brunette joke," said the girl, ignoring the droid's remark. Lena chuckled again.
"You can trust us," Lena said. "I've known this Captain for years, and as you've noticed, he has a way with words."
"Fine," said the girl. "I'm being handed the opportunity of a lifetime; I'm not going to turn it down because of cold feet. If you can successfully bribe my parents into letting me go, I'll tell you everything I know about the KR's."
"Very good," said Revan. "Arren, is everything good to go?"
"Yeah," said Lena. "I've just calibrated the device I planted to transmit the heat signal that'll tell us if Frinch goes back into that basement. We can do it the next time he decides he wants a drink."
"Statement: I still believe it would be far more satisfying to simply blast that meatbag's face into the wall and get it over with. Why would we sit on such a wonderful opportunity?"
"Any chance of it being found?" Revan asked.
"Doubt it…"
"You were planning to kill Frinch?" said the girl. "Wow…maybe I can trust you."
"Well can you trust us enough to tell us your name?" asked Revan.
"My name's Cassandra…" said the girl again with an equal quiver of hesitation.
"Well Cassandra," said Revan. "It is nice to meet you. I'm Jack, this is Arren, and this is HK-47 my loyal assassination droid. If you will come with us to our ship, we will offer you protection in exchange for your information."
"Expletive: Oh Master…please don't tell me we're taking on another meatbag! I don't know if my protocols could handle it!"
"It's not up to me. It's up to her," said Revan.
"Alright," she said. "But no tricks…"
"I assure you, we mean you no harm," replied Revan. "We just weren't expecting you or anyone like you to show up in the middle of all this."
"Yeah, same here," said Cassandra. "But we'll need to stop at my house first."
"No problem," said Revan. "I'll just signal my ship. Dustil?" he called through his communicator.
"Yeah?"
"A little over a klick east of the compound, there's four of us."
"Four! But…we're all here, and I thought you were worried about tight hallways or something…"
"We picked up a stray." Lena chuckled.
"Yeah, long story; we'll explain later," said Revan. "And tell the T3-M4 to make sure the bike is ready."
"Copy that; see you in a few."
Within five minutes, the Ebon Hawk landed at their position. Yuthura was waiting on the ramp. "Who's the guest of honor?" she asked.
"Cassandra Vesta," came the reply. "I'm your new…" She looked over to Revan. "Have any position open on your crew?"
"Temporary Informational Assistant," said Revan. "That's your new job until you disclose to us what you know. For your services, you'll get part of the cut for killing Frinch once we blow up his basement, and we'll set you on your merry way."
"That's quite the mouthful name for a job," said Dustil.
"Yeah, well my parents tell me I have a big mouth, so I'm sure I'll do fine, thanks," she said in a snarky tone of voice.
"Oh great…" replied Dustil in an equally snarky tone. "Another big mouth on the ship; like they couldn't get enough of me." Revan and Lena both chuckled from the comment.
"As entertaining as this may be, we need to be on our way, before Frinch's men get here."
"They're on their way?" replied Cassandra in another slightly worried tone.
"Indeed," said Revan. "Let's go."
Lena jumped into the cockpit and blasted the ship into the air. "Cassandra, where do you live?" she asked.
"A bit to the north," she replied. "There should be a vacant landing pad somewhere, but the toll might be a little heavy."
"We'll handle that," said Revan. "Lena, get some more altitude. Dustil, go get HK-47 again; he's coming with us."
"You're not planning on using his…skills, are you?" Dustil asked, already knowing that Revan had something else in mind. Cassandra gave a very worried look to both of them.
"No," said Revan. "HK also has a talent at carrying lots of suitcases."
"Here's my question," said Yuthura. "Why didn't you just send HK-47 to kill Frinch? It would have been easier than going in there yourselves."
"I had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy," said Revan. "But it's a good thing I didn't because if I did, HK might not be alive right now."
"What happened?"
"Another long story," said Revan. "We'll talk later."
As a click of metallic feet were heard HK-47's voice came into earshot "Indignation: Master I'm insulted you think me incapable of terminating one little meatbag! For all the beautifully artistic kills I've preformed for you I..."
"I'm never going to hear the end of that am I?" Revan asked the cockpit console in despair.
"Disclaimer: Indeed…I also possess excellent hearing. Retraction: Oh I'm sorry master, was that a hypothetical question?"
Back on Frinch's compound, two hours later…
A large amount of smashing and clashing sounds came from Frinch's house. There were two guards who were patrolling the perimeter who heard them.
"Should we check to see what's up?"
"Nah, he'll have called if he needed us. He's probably just drunk again."
But the situation inside Frinch's basement was quite different. Frinch was handcuffed to a metal pole, incapable of moving. Meanwhile, the True Sith with him was busy fighting the rest of the heavily armed and armored squadron.
One of the soldiers grabbed a bottle of wine and smashed it over Frinch's head. The wine spilled and soaked Frinch's clothing but the soldier threw the big glass shard he was still holding at the Sith. The Sith merely punched it and it shattered into a million pieces. He then blasted a thin red aura straight at the soldier, but the soldier took cover behind one of the shelves and it whizzed past him.
"How much longer do you swine think you can hold out against me!" yelled the Sith. "You cannot win!"
Two other soldiers made no reply, but came out of cover and began blasting the Sith with their rifles. With its agility, the Sith dodged all the blasts, and the lasers merely knocked over more wine bottles. As he landed, he grabbed the remaining wine bottles on the shelf behind him and hurled them at the soldiers. One of the bottles hit a soldier straight in the face and knocked him out. The Sith ducked another blast and then lifted his hands, in an extraordinarily powerful Force choke to all eight other soldiers in the room. He slowly began to clench his fists more and more, crushing the soldiers' windpipes and slowly dimming their dying squeals.
But suddenly a sharp and twisted dagger came hurling in his direction and it landed straight in his throat. The Sith immediately ceased the choke and the soldiers all collapsed to the floor unconscious.
"Enjoying yourself!" snarled Amicus Trek as he entered the basement. The True Sith gave a smirk and yanked the dagger out of his neck. Despite the loss of blood, he was fine, and now much angrier. But before he could counterattack, Trek was on him.
Trek grabbed the Sith by the lapel with one hand and spun him around, throwing him with the Force backward. The Sith flew backwards and knocked over five shelves in the crash. He kick flipped back up and hurled another red aura straight at Trek. Trek caught it in his hand, and though the Sith exerted more and more energy, trying to break him, Trek merely controlled the energy ball in his hand. Finally, it seeped into Trek as he intended to absorb it, and the Sith stood baffled by Trek's display of power.
"Nice trick," said the Sith. "Got any more?"
"Sure," replied Trek with a devilish smirk. With that, he clasped his hands together, and with the Force, threw every remaining wine bottle into a whirlwind around the Sith. Before the Sith could break free of it, Trek summoned a spark of lightning that hit one of the bottles in the whirlwind. The True Sith was suddenly ignited, along with the area he was standing in into a blaze of fire. The Sith screamed as he tried to jump out and roll on the floor, but Trek Force lifted him in the air and held him there. Five minutes later, the Sith was long dead and burned to a crisp. The rest of the men had been evacuated but Trek and Frinch were still in the basement.
They stood for another few minutes, and neither of them said another word. As the fire drew closer, Trek unlocked the pole and dragged Frinch by the handcuffs up the stairs from the basement with one hand. He then strapped him into a chair and another of his men fastened him in with a short bungee cord.
"Activate the blast doors and seal off the basement," said Trek. "We need this house intact for a little while longer."
"Yes sir," said one of the men who hurried off.
"So Mr. Frinch," began Trek. "You've got quite the reputation in this galaxy. Crime, mob activity, gambits for power, assassinations, economic success, the front page of most search engines will have your name, face, and profile right on it, if any of those terms get looked up."
"I could say the same about you," said Frinch. "Though the words I'd pick for the engine are traitor…terrorist…widower."
Trek slammed his front knuckles on Frinch's cheek bone, almost whip-lashing his head. "I try conducting a pleasant conversation with a man before his demise, and this is how I get treated?"
"I've faced death on a number of occasions. It doesn't scare me."
"But you've never faced me," growled Trek. "And I can give you a more terrifying death than anything you could ever imagine."
"You plan to burn me alive like you did my friend?"
"Ah yes," said Trek. "Your friend…" Trek's expression turned even more frightening. "I can't tell you how many times I've heard Rixxon Zazz speak highly of you. You're the only one he's never had to threaten or intimidate or any of those other fun tactics they use to slither out what they want. Like a tool, you gave, and you gave. And now, look where that's gotten you." Trek moved back a couple of steps. "Your face is a bloody mess, your illegal wine is on fire, and your trust fund has been robbed. Here, take a look."
Another soldier came up with a small datapad to show it to Frinch. Frinch took a quick look at it. "You left a hundred bonds in there."
"Well, I didn't want to take all of it," said Trek rather defensively. "Seriously, what kind of man do you think I am?" Frinch spat blood onto Trek's shoe. Trek countered by hitting him in the face again, on the other side. "Now, small talk complete, onto business. I found this…" Trek pulled from his pocket a small diffused bomb. "It was in your basement, programmed to kill you and burn your wine all the same. I didn't plant the bomb because that's not how I do things. Any ideas?"
Frinch looked at Trek and did not even bother to stare at the bomb. He said nothing.
"You know…you're really trying my patience here," said Trek. "I mean, it is one thing to leave a bloodstain on my shoe. I can polish that off, but given what you have seen, surely you must know that there are less painful and less messy ways to die. See, most people die with the comfort of knowing that they'll be cremated and people will cry over them. But I can make it so that you end up in little pieces…food for the vultures, and no one will miss you. Now I'm going to ask you again; and if you still choose to hold your peace, I'm going to do something really crazy."
Frinch looked at Trek again and still said nothing for few seconds. He shook his head. "Do your worst." Trek grimaced a bit, and then silently summoned one of his men. The soldier he summoned dragged Frinch's wife and two kids, all of them blindfolded, hands bound, and mouths taped. They whimpered and quivered with fear as they entered the room.
"You shouldn't have told me that," said Trek. "You really shouldn't have told me that. You've got one last chance. Just give me a clue."
"You're bluffing," said Frinch in a tone of desperation.
"You don't know me," said Trek. "And I'll prove it. Watch this." Trek pulled out his blaster. "Are you watching?" Frinch was indeed looking at him. "Okay good." Trek pointed his pistol at the oldest son and shot him point blank in the side of the head. The boy's head throbbed as he fell to the floor dead.
"NO!" screamed Frinch with his mouth gaped open. "YOU SON OF A BITCH! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT! LET ME LOOSE! I'LL RIP YOUR DAMN HEAD OFF!"
Tears were rolling from Frinch's face, and his wife and younger son were also crying behind the blindfold. They knew exactly what had just happened. But they could not scream; nor could they make any coherent sound more than a whimper. They were terrified. Trek had just proved that he was an absolute lunatic and a man with the stomach and resolve to do anything.
"I told you that you shouldn't have called my bluff!" Trek sneered. "Now talk; I want to know who else was trying to kill you! It's a simple damn question! NOW ANSWER IT OR I'LL CUT YOUR YOUNGER SON'S HEAD OFF RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!"
"Alright, alright!" pleaded Frinch. "I'll talk! Show me the detonator!"
Frinch had just barely managed to get out those words in the midst of his trauma and his mental breakdown that was hidden behind his eyes. A member of his family had just been shot in the head right in front of him. Sacre Frinch was a monster of his own and had seen more than often the bloody results of his exploits, but not once had he ever imagined the perspective of his victims. Now he was, and he didn't know how to handle it. He desperately shook and seized, trying to break free in his chair, but it was of no use. His groans of aggravation seemed to amuse Trek a little bit as he walked back over with the detonator.
Frinch looked at it and then looked at Trek. "This doesn't surprise me…we…we had an intruder in our base earlier; I merely suspected it to be an undercover, but we didn't catch him."
"Security cameras pick them up?" Trek asked.
"I…" stammered Frinch.
"DID THE SECURITY CAMERAS PICK THEM UP!" repeated Trek, raising his voice.
"That's what I was looking for before you showed up…and killed my boy!"
"Here! Commander! I think I got it," said one of his soldiers. I have three people leaving the compound; camera picked them up from outside the wall after coming down. We have one girl and then a little ways after her, two other people and a droid. Their faces are hidden but one of them briefly looked back at the camera and I froze it there."
"Refresh the image now," said Trek.
"Already on it sir," said the soldier. "Should be done in…there; have a look."
Trek looked at the new image. It was Lena, looking at the camera for a split second. "A twi'lek…green skin, hazel green eyes. Garrisson, I want you to cross-reference that image to our database; see if any flags come up."
"Yes sir," Garrisson replied.
Trek paced the floor for another ten minutes until Garrisson gave another response. "I think I got a name; same parameters, but it's a relatively new file."
"What's the name?" replied Trek.
"Arren Kae," said Garrisson. "First Lieutenant on a ship called the Ebon Hawk. Registered under the employment of the Multi-Contract Airborne…not much else."
"Arren Kae…" repeated Trek. "I'm guessing that's an alias," he said. "Just a guess though. We'll run it through the Sith's database and see if they have a file on her." He turned back to Frinch who was still twitching with rage at what he had done to his boy. "We have a lead now, which means our presence here is no longer necessary."
"Uh Commander?" said another soldier.
"What is it this time Rocha?"
"We've got an armored vehicle approaching. I think someone heard the blaster shot."
"Take that megaphone and tell them we've got a fleet right above them. Garrisson, you signal the Pincer to move into position, in case they don't buy it. Judd, you let Archie know that we're almost done here and tell him to get that drop ship to the rendezvous point."
"Yes sir!" they all replied.
"Now," said Trek. "Ah yes!" he exclaimed. "Mr. Frinch, I bid you a fond farewell. May the dark side of the Force have mercy on your soul." Trek aimed his blaster at Frinch's heart and pulled the trigger. The laser went straight through and killed him. Frinch's wife screamed as loudly as she could with the cloth still partially in her mouth and his other son was now crying so much that the blindfold was completely soaked, with more tears seeping through it.
"Sir, they're backing off!" yelled Rocha.
"Good," said Trek. "Tell them that the threat of bombardment still applies until we have safely exited this planet. Judd, kill the wife and the last kid and then meet us right outside. Make it clean; one laser to the head is all you need."
Frinch's wife and his last child whimpered even more and desperately looked around, praying for an exit that they could feel, but their efforts were futile. They were as good as dead, and a part of them knew it, but it was too terrifying to think about. Now it was all they were thinking about.
Trek exited the room and behind him came two single blaster shots within a second of each other, and thus marked the bitter end of the Frinch family.
The next day…
"Are you sure this is absolutely necessary?" said Yuthura. "We could just tell Gunthamore and pass along the message, to save time."
"We owe Ardao an explanation," said Revan. "I didn't say it would be the truth; but just out of courtesy. We can't afford to stain our own reputation in the Unknown Regions this early.
"Revan's right," said Lena. "We've only done a few jobs, and Ardao needs to understand that there are special circumstances that we could not deliver on this job; so he doesn't suspect incompetence." Lena paused. "That being said, what exactly are you planning to say to him?"
"I got a plan," said Revan with confidence. "Ardao isn't an idiot, but fooling him won't be hard. How's our passenger?"
"Unusually quiet," said Lena. "I still think she's taken aback from how easily you persuaded her parents…you sure that was a good idea?"
"No," said Revan. "But it worked, and she wasn't in the room to see me do it, and I doubt we'll see them again. And even if they suspect something, I left a few thousand on their table when they weren't looking."
"We don't even know if her information will be worth anything," said Yuthura. "That sounds like a dangerous investment."
"No," said Revan. "She knows a lot, and getting her to cooperate is easy. It's worth it to me."
The others nodded, once again persuaded by Revan's confidence. Revan was sure himself, though he wasn't sure why he was actually so sure that Cassandra's information would be worth the price. It was just the feeling of anticipated revelation that had always struck him at the right moments. The minute he ran into Darth Malak on the Leviathan, Revan knew that Malak had something to say. He would not have come just to personally collect Bastila for her Battle Meditation; but to meet and greet his former master was a rare opportunity that Malak was eager to seize. The same feeling came over him when he was requested an audience with the Jedi Council immediately after escaping Taris.
Revan, Lena, and Yuthura stepped out of the Ebon Hawk to greet Ardao who was standing right in front of the ramp. As Revan stepped out of the ship, Ardao extended both his hands.
"My friends!" he said, his face full of glee. "News has already rung of your success! You have done the impossible, and for that I am forever grateful."
Revan and his companions froze, completely baffled by the greeting. "My…my success?" said Revan trying to sound as unconvincing as possible.
"Of course!" said Ardao. "Frinch lies dead in his own home, and further rumors circulate that you burned down his winery as well. Most excellent my friends! Well done!"
"Why, thank you!" said Revan. "I guess I'm just surprised that the information circulated this quickly…the stuff about the winery especially."
"The business universe has currents of information one couldn't avoid even if he tried," said Ardao.
"But I do have one question," said Revan. "Are you concerned at all about damage control?"
"Not at all," said Ardao. "The bigger the bang, the better the statement, right?"
"I guess so," said Revan with a somewhat fake smile.
"Cheer up!" said Ardao. "You've done me, my colleagues, and the people of Spyroc a great service. Just as before, I will honor my side of the bargain with your pay that is being wired to your account right now; should be complete." He pulled out a datapad. "You can monitor the results."
"Thank you," said Revan. "Arren, why don't you keep your eye on this?"
"With pleasure," said Lena.
"And your dinner is on me of course," said Ardao. "We can sit down now if you'd like."
"Of course," said Revan. "Although, I do have one additional small request…"
"And what would that be?" said Ardao, still smiling.
"We've taken on another passenger, temporarily. She's my niece, her name is Cassandra. Can she join us as well?"
"Why of course!" exclaimed Ardao. "By all means, bring her along!"
"Wonderful," said Revan. "I'll go back and let them know."
Revan stepped back into the Ebon Hawk and found Cassandra doing a light dance in the cargo hold. Before he could actually admire the grace of her movements, she stopped as he entered, and blushed slightly from embarrassment. "Oh…hi," she said. "Sorry…am I allowed in here?"
"Yeah sure, just don't dig in" said Revan. "You won't need to anyway. You're coming to dinner with us tonight."
"Oh!" she said. "Thank you…is the dinner here?"
"Yeah," said Revan. "That's actually what I came to talk to you about. Frinch is dead, and Ardao knows."
Cassandra gave Revan another perplexed look. "Weren't you planning on waiting that out?"
"It wasn't me," said Revan. "But Ardao thinks it was, and you need to keep it that way."
"Alright," she said. "I can do that. Anything else?"
"Yeah," said Revan with a nod. He again felt awkward as he was about to tell her this, but there was no other way. "I'm going to need you to call me Uncle Jackie."
We sincerely hope you have enjoyed this addition to "The Prodigal Knight". After we end Part III with the next chapter, we shall begin Part IV with a double update.
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