Chapter Thirteen:
"May I come in?"
Ignis looked up from his drawing to find a man in a law-enforcement uniform gazing at him. Ignis put the sheet he was drawing upon flat to his stomach so the man would not see its contents, and gestured for the newcomer to enter.
"Thank you." The man approached, sliding the privacy curtain closed behind him. Ignis didn't bother to point out to the man that a thin sheet of fabric would hardly afford them a private conversation. The officer extended a hand in Ignis' direction once he was close enough.
"My name is Quintan Scrase," he introduced himself with a smile Ignis thought was intended to put him at ease. Ignis merely looked at the man, not taking the limb but waiting to see what he wanted. Truth be told— due to his past— Ignis did not like to be touched, and he only allowed it from Emry so he could fulfill his mission. There was only one human in the galaxy that had Ignis' permission to touch him without his consent.
Scrase hesitated a moment more before he dropped his hand. "Anyway, I need to ask you some questions please, since you were part of what happened to the museum."
Ah, Ignis thought, and inclined his head in acknowledgement.
"You were inside the museum when the building collapsed, correct?" Scrase asked, taking out a datapad on which to record Ignis' answers.
"Yes," Ignis replied simply, refusing to volunteer information.
"Can you please tell me what, exactly, the building did?" Scrase went on.
Ignis frowned. "You mean how it went down? It crumbled and collapsed: somewhat in entire wall sections, and partially in crumbled chunks of the building."
Scrase nodded once. "I do apologize; I should have been clearer on what I meant. Though I do thank you for the bit you did give, as it's helping me to paint a clearer picture." Scrase made a brief notation then looked back at the teenager. "What I meant is did you happen to hear or see something that could indicate why the building came apart?"
Ignis felt comprehension dawn. "Oh. Well, everything happened very fast. But I clearly remember that the room my group left blew apart like it had exploded. I couldn't tell you what I heard other than the building falling and people screaming."
Scrase was swiftly entering notes as Ignis talked, though when the boy finished, the officer looked to him, clearly itching for more.
"You claim that it seemed to explode. Why do you say that?"
"Because the walls blew inward like you see in holofilms," Ignis said, playing the part of a normal teenager who only knew these things through the media. He even went so far as to use his hands for emphasis, and noted that the officer eagerly drank in all of Ignis' data.
"Thank you, young man." Scrase gazed at Ignis anew. "Is there anything else you can tell me? Was there anyone in the building acting suspiciously? It can be either before or after the opening ceremony. You were among the orphans, judging from the lanyard still about your neck." The officer gestured, and Ignis put a hand to the item. "So I know you were in the building prior to the ceremony."
Ignis shook his head, affecting a sorrowful look. "No one acted off that I know of. We all just wanted our ticket to a family or a new world, you know?"
The man seemed sympathetic, and looked down. "Yeah. I'm really sorry about what happened to all your friends."
Ignis met his gaze. "How many survived?"
Scrase grimaced. "They're still sifting through the rubble, but so far there are only a small handful of people alive."
Ignis knew that if there was anyone else still alive, their chances of having lasted this long were slim to none, judging by Ignis and Emry's own experience.
"I'm sorry to hear that so many are gone," Ignis said honestly, quietly.
Scrase sighed softly. "Thank you again for your time... what did you say your name was?"
"Ignis."
"Well Ignis, thanks again. You take it easy."
"Do you know what will happen to the orphans left in Keeth's program?" Ignis inquired just before the man disappeared.
"I don't, but I would expect the man to hold to his word," Scrase replied, tipping his hat. "Good day to you Ignis."
Ignis lifted a brow at the man's farewell, but didn't criticize it. Once Scrase was gone, Ignis sat in contemplative silence. He knew who had attacked the building, and under whose orders.
Katu was a demolitions expert, thanks to his seeming aptitude and Vexa's emphasis on the Whiphid's training as a result. And since Katu had been one of the three acolytes Vexa had assigned to work this case, Ignis knew it had been Katu. Also, Katu had many ways of blowing things up without anyone being able to predict his actions.
Ignis' mind shifted to the other orphans, particularly Nikk, and wondered if the brunet had lived. Ignis felt for the boy, and the others orphans, allowing himself time to think on them before he resolutely moved on. He pushed away any unwanted emotions with practiced ease.
However, with that done, Ignis was left to wonder what he would do now that Luke knew the teen was Force-sensitive and understood how to wield it. At least somewhat, as far as the Jedi Master was aware. Or so Ignis hoped. He recalled seeing Luke's face upon realizing Ignis was holding up the slab of duracrete that had almost crushed Emry and him. At the time Ignis hadn't cared... but now he did, since he wasn't about to die.
Ignis did not know what Luke thought, so Ignis did not know what conclusions Luke would draw on his own. But the young man started crafting together what he would say if Luke interrogated him about his Force abilities.
00000
Luke shifted in the chair he now occupied, one he had managed to scrounge up amidst the semi-chaos of the emergency tent. Emry was still unconscious in her bed, and yet Luke felt that she should wake soon, so he remained steadfastly by her side.
As he did so, Luke's sorrow grew as he thought on his wife and newborn child. A child whose birth he had missed. Luke's heart wept at that knowledge, and he knew he would not heal from that until he could see and talk with Mara... and hold his little one for the first time.
How he longed to be with them...
A soft cough behind the Jedi Master drew his attention, and Luke looked to see an officer of the law peeking into the little room.
"Pardon me, Master Skywalker, my name is Quintan Scrase." He stepped into the room but didn't approach. "I am investigating what occurred, and I wanted to ask permission to speak with your daughter," he glanced to the bed and added, "when she wakes, of course."
Luke narrowed his eyes somewhat, and the man went on. "She is hardly in trouble, Sir. I just wanted to get her take on what happened. I have already spoken to some of the other victims; I merely wanted to interview as many as possible so I can further my investigation. I promise to stop if she gets scared or if you ask me to."
Luke considered the request, glancing to his daughter. "I don't see how that would hurt anyone, so yes. When she is awake and able to talk, you may as her some questions."
"Very good, Sir, thank you." He paused. "May I ask you a few since I am here?"
Luke lifted a brow, but nodded, understanding that Scrase was simply trying to do his job. "Alright."
"Thanks again." Scrase produced a datapad, made a few adjustments, and then looked to Luke once more. "You were not on site when the building collapsed, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Where were you?"
"I was with Keeth, signing the paperwork for the museum," Luke replied. "Keeth had asked me to be his witness on the official documentation."
Scrase inclined his head, jotting down a few notes. "Did you see anything from where you were? Or hear anything?"
Luke shifted to see him better without having to crane his neck. "I felt a warning in the Force that something wasn't right, but noting was happening yet. However, when the warning became a siren in the Force, I heard a loud rumbling— my back was to the window at this point— and when I spun back around, the museum was spewing smoke and debris as explosions rocked it."
"Explosions?" Scrase clarified. "As in more than one?"
"Correct," Luke said patiently, watching Scrase continue to make his notes. "There was definitely more than one explosion." Luke pursed his lips. "I counted at least five, but there may have been more, I am not sure."
Scrase moved swiftly as he recorded all that Luke said. "Do you know where the explosions were coming from?"
Luke paused, thinking about it as he replayed the scene in his mind's eye. "I would say they appeared to be coming from the ground up, as most of the debris and such seemed to be going upwards."
Scrase nodded. "This is all great, Master Skywalker, as this information greatly helps my investigation. Is there anything else you can tell me about the downfall of the museum? Did you happen to notice anyone acting strangely?"
Luke hesitated again, his mind oddly going to Ignis. But though the Jedi Master was somewhat wary of the boy, nor did Luke have proof that Ignis was bad. Maybe Ignis just preferred to be alone, since he appeared to live on the streets. Or that was what Luke had been told.
But was Ignis truly a suspect, or was Luke merely feeding off of his uncertainty?
If Ignis had intended to blow the building, he certainly would not have been inside it at the time, Luke. Luke chastised himself.
"I don't think so, no," Luke finally said. "Sorry."
"That's quite alright." Scrase assured Luke. "Again, I thank you for talking with me. I will check back later for your little girl. May I have her name?"
"Emry Skywalker."
Scrase inclined his head, already on his way out. "Thank you. I will be back at another time."
Once the curtain had closed again, Luke merely gazed without seeing at the spot Scrase had been in, his thoughts shifting once more to Ignis. Ignis: the mysterious boy whose eyes told a very intriguing if somewhat frightening story. What, exactly they told, Luke did not understand. But Luke was absolutely certain now that there was more to Ignis that the boy let on.
Like the fact that not only was Ignis strong in the Force— his potential as astounding to Luke— but Ignis clearly knew how to use the Force, at least to a degree. But had he received training, or did Ignis work on an instinctual level?
Is it possible for someone untrained to do what he did? Luke thought dubiously. I don't think so. He could not have stopped that huge slab on instinct alone.
Luke couldn't discount the first occurrence either, though Luke did not know what Ignis had done at that point, since Luke hadn't seen it. But Luke was well aware of what he had felt. He had distinctly felt a level of control in Ignis' usage of the Force that an untrained individual would lack.
Alright, so Ignis has had training. Luke admitted. But by who? Where?
And what am I going to do about this boy? Luke asked himself poignantly. Luke knew he had to seriously consider the issue, and yet he also knew that he could not take too long to decide. Ignis could very well be taken away if Keeth kept his word to the orphans of his program. And if that happened, Luke would probably never see him again.
Ignis was indeed powerful, and widely unknown to Luke. And yet... Luke could not deny that a part of him wanted to get to know the youth more. Luke was highly curious where Ignis had learned the Force. Luke pursed his lips, a new thought entering his mind. If Ignis would be willing to be trained as a Jedi, that could prove to be a boon to the New Jedi Order that Luke and Mara were building.
Do you want him only for his powers, Luke? He challenged, thinking back to the late Sith pair who had once sought out Luke for that very reason.
He had a lot to think about, Luke knew, and not much time to do it.
00000
When her door opened once more, Shmi looked to it without fear. This time it was the second, seemingly taller Mandalorian who entered. Unlike the other, this man's armor was a highly polished silver with orange accents. It bore considerably more markings on his helmet than the other Mandalorian, leading Shmi to think that they could have denoted memorable hunts. Members of starfighter squadrons did similar things: keeping tallies of certain victories on their helmets or ships.
Also, unlike the other, this Mandalorian's arm bore not a narglatch, but a creature Shmi had never seen before and— judging from the image— hoped she never did. It looked like a huge, fleshy ball with a multitude of eyes, many strong tentacles and a huge maw with several rows of sharp teeth.
He looked to her, drawing Shmi's attention back to his face, and the man took in the untouched meal.
"If we had wanted you dead, Young Lady, we would have let you continue to fall to your death on Sarka." His voice sounded a bit harsh through his helmet.
"Where are you taking me?" Shmi asked.
"You will find out soon enough." He gestured for her to rise, and Shmi did so with quiet dignity. "Follow me, and don't try anything."
Shmi dutifully followed the man as he walked her from the holding cell to the ramp, which wasn't yet lowered. Shmi waited with him as she felt their ship come to a soft landing. Shmi took the time to peer around her, taking in the spartan ship that looked more useful than pretty.
It wasn't long before the second Mandalorian joined the pair, and he took her in as well. "I've got the rear," he said, drawing a blaster and holding it at the ready with Shmi in his sights.
The Mandalorian up front inclined his head, and lowered the ramp. As soon as there was space, they began to descend, and Shmi had to shield her eyes from the sunlight as it shone brilliantly. Her first thought was Tatooine, but when the expected heat didn't hit her, she knew it wasn't. Even so, her hands went subconsciously to the necklace her father had given to her, and she took comfort from its presence.
Thank you Dad, I miss you... Shmi whispered in her mind, hoping he would hear her, but knowing he wouldn't if she was unable to access the Force.
Once her eyesight adjusted, Shmi peered about to see a mostly barren landscape. As they trudged forward, Shmi's gaze was drawn to an opening in the rock face directly ahead, and the door inset deeply into it.
Upon reaching the door the lead man lifted a panel and input a code to unlock the portal. The heavy door opened ponderously, allowing Shmi to know that the thing would not be easy to take out.
Shmi's eyes had to adjust once more as the bright sunlight was replaced by the dimness of the corridor they entered. As such, she was certain she missed some details, yet she did not let that keep her from taking in anything she could.
Shmi heard the whir of machinery, could smell lubricants and fuel meant for vehicles, and could now see the many openings off the main tunnel. Shmi was led deep into the fortress, and to a room that was lockable only from the outside.
The Mandalorians took her inside and paused at the door while she continued inward.
"You are not exactly our prisoner," the leader said, "yet. But if you abuse our... hospitality, that will change swiftly."
Shmi looked to him. "What is it that you want with me if I am not a prisoner? I feel like one."
The man inclined his head. "I can see how you would think that." He then gestured to the space. "You may not leave this room unaccompanied. Everything you need is here, and meals will be delivered to you by my son." He indicated the shorter of the two Mandalorians.
Ah, Shmi thought, taking a mental note that the two before her were father and son.
"Will I be freed of my cuffs?" Shmi asked, lifting her bound wrists.
"They will be separated so you can use your arms, but the cuffs will remain in place." The man turned, but offered a final warning. "Attempt to tamper with the cuffs, and you will regret it instantly."
And with that he was gone, with his son moving forward to unlatch her cuffs as promised. He paused, gazing at Shmi a moment more before following the elder Mandalorian, his back never turning to her.
Once the pair was gone, with her door sealed, Shmi looked to her cuffs, wondering what the man had meant by regretting the tampering of the items. Shmi inspected them and yet saw nothing immediately.
Biting her lip in thought, Shmi remembered Han telling her that many restraining devices had hidden uses or dangers. With that in mind, Shmi took a closer look, but still couldn't see anything.
Pursing her lips, Shmi decided to test the waters. Locating a stylus, Shmi fiddled with the clasp... and screeched when sharp pricks jabbed into her wrists following the entire circumference of the cuffs. They injected some type of pain-inducer that instantly had her trembling.
Shmi panted as she withheld a full scream, noting a tiny dribble of blood coming from under her cuffs on each wrist now. Still quivering slightly, Shmi took many steadying breaths until the pain had eased entirely.
Weary and ready to rest, Shmi moved to the bed, a small thing but which was nonetheless clean and inviting. She lay down gingerly, facing the door, and allowed her eyes to shut.
00000
Senator Rohgah Obil entered the office to Keeth Almon, who merely sat in his chair gazing out the window at what had once been his pride and joy. Rohgah wasn't an expert on humans, but even he could feel the sorrow and self-pity emanating from the man.
Rohgah curled his lip in distaste, sneering at the other's back before Keeth seemed to notice he had company.
Keeth spun in his chair, and took in the well-dressed Bothan. "May I help you?"
Rohgah affected a genial expression, stepping forward. "Yes, thank you. Are you Keeth Almon?"
"I am."
"I am Senator Rohgah Obil." He introduced himself proudly. "I am here to help you finish what you started..."
Keeth's eyes lit up with hope. "You mean to rebuild the museum?" He interrupted.
Rohgah could not hide his disapproval this time. "Of course not!"
Keeth deflated, looking back out the window. "Oh." He then buried his face in his hands. "I just don't know what went wrong. It was perfect! I had everything in line..."
Rohgah pinched his nose, suing for patience. "Please focus... I am sorry about your museum project, but I am afraid I am here for something more important."
Keeth looked to him incredulously. "And what is that?"
Rohgah lifted a pointed brow. "Helping those orphans you promised to find homes for."
Keeth sighed, flopping back into his chair. "I can't focus on that right now... I need to deal with what happened."
Rohgah stepped forward, glaring down at Keeth. "You listen here. If you ever wish to make a name for yourself except for coward, I think you will want to change that sentiment."
Keeth glared right back, incensed. "Coward?"
"You vowed to help those children find a new home, or to at least get off Orinda. Was that all a lie?" Rohgah challenged.
"Of course not!" Keeth shot back, a little too quickly. "But I have my hands full with a collapsed building."
Rohgah looked about pointedly. It was obvious the man had been in his office for quite some time. "Could have fooled me."
Keeth seethed where he sat. "You should leave."
Rohgah shook his head. "Not happening. You are going to finish the orphan project."
Keeth thinned his lips. "I was just trying to get onto the planetary board of committee." He admitted grudgingly.
"And how do you think they will react to knowing you are hiding here like a fool, instead of trying to salvage something from the mess outside?" Rohgah asked.
Keeth straightened, his expression shifting once more. "What are you saying?"
Rohgah sensed his opportunity and seized it. "If you at least hold to your word to help these kids, the board will surely look at that with favor, and see that you are a man of character."
Only on paper, Rohgah added to himself, disgusted anew with the man before him.
Keeth put a finger to his chin. "You're right. I still have a chance to spin this in my favor." He looked to Rohgah. "What, exactly do you plan to do to help me?"
Rohgah smiled. "I am going to help you place the surviving orphans."