OOO
Chapter One.
OOO
Aiden Stari sat in the darkness of his living cube, the only light in the room being cast by the data pad gripped in his sweaty palms. Wires ran from the data pad to a break in the wall where a panel had been crudely pried off, exposing the internal wiring the slum-hole's holonet access ran off of.
His fingers flew across the screen as lines of code and garbage data scrolled by. His brows knit together, beads of moisture dotted his forehead.
Tonight, he would prove himself among the best.
Ding. Lines of gibberish morphed into a video feed from within the Senate Hall.
The corners of his lips pulled back into a grin so wide, his cheeks hurt. Score one for me.
He tapped the screen rhythmically, cycling through the feeds. At this time of night the place was emptier than a cantina-rat's wallet, but it didn't matter. He had done it.
He entered the system directory to leave his mark, staying one step ahead of the sentry program that swept through the system every five minutes, and there in the agreed upon menu, three signatures already glowed, mocking him.
Fourth place. His shoulders slouched. Fastest work he'd ever done, and he didn't even break the top three. "Blast it, how do they do that?" He'd never make a name for himself at this rate.
He thinned his lips and tapped in his signature after the others, and absently cycled the video feeds as he made to leave the system. But as he reached for the wires plugged into the back of his data pad, the screen flickered oddly as the next camera view appeared. A ripple of static fizzled, and then calmed. The connection fluctuated.
Someone else was in the system with him. And they were watching this particular feed.
He furrowed his brow and paused in pulling the cable from the pad, and squinted at the crimson room filling the display until it struck him why it looked so familiar.
The Chancellor's private office. The man had certainly made enough addresses to the adoring public from that room to recognize it. Only difference was, instead of sitting straight and prim like he had the rolled-up scroll of the Republic Constitution itself stuck in his behind, Palpatine hunched over his desk, poring over a data pad of his own.
Aiden's brow raised. Working late, old man.
The Chancellor lifted his head like he heard a noise, and glanced behind him.
Aiden squinted, but didn't see anything.
Palpatine placed his tablet down, still looking over his shoulder, and stood from the desk and crossed to the darkest corner—to a small, staring statue in the shadows that made Aiden's skin crawl. And it wasn't just because of how ugly it was.
Palpatine placed his hand on the statue's head, and brushed his thumb over the burnished metal. And as if it were a living thing, the statue turned its head from his touch and looked at the darkened wall beside it. And there in the shadow of its figure, the wall retreated into itself as if surrendering to its gaze, exposing a hidden niche within.
Aiden's eyebrows shot up.
Shelves running the walls of the niche held strange objects in glass boxes. A dark cloak draped from a center hook.
Palpatine took the cloak and wrapped himself in its folds, pulling the hood over his head until his face disappeared in the shadow of its cowl.
What in the blazes… Aiden gripped the data pad tighter.
Palpatine pulled a device from the black folds of the robe—a communicator—and swiped his thumb over the eye of the casing. And then a ghost manifested in the palm of his hand. A regal thing casting eerie blue through the shadows.
Was that... Dooku?
An angry buzz tore through the speakers of Aiden's data pad, and he jumped in his seat.
A light on Palpatine's desk began flashing urgently.
The sentry program. His stomach dropped. He had totally forgotten about it.
Palpatine whipped his head to the light on the desk, and then turned his gaze directly into the security camera.
Yellow eyes locked with blue, and ice poured down Aiden's spine.
He ripped the wires out of his data pad, and let them fall to the ground as 'connection lost' flashed across the display of his pad.
A spark flew from where the data pad wires spliced into the exposed holonet lines.
His gut clenched. They would know it was him. He ran the intrusion from his own room like an idiot, and they'd trace it.
He began shoving as much as he could into his backpack.
OOO
The foggy stench of the lower level smacked him in the face as he stepped out onto the streets, pack slung over his shoulder, eyes twitching left to right.
Across the street, two patrol troopers stood under the glow of a neon twi'lek.
He ducked his head, and slipped into an alley to his right. Urine and refuse hung in the air.
Palpatine is in bed with Dooku? He side-stepped a stumbling rodian. Forget it. just get out of here.
Trash bins, neon signs, and alien faces passed in a blur as he put distance between himself and his apartment, working his way through alleys and shadows.
He couldn't go back. Place would be tagged now. Might have been a slum-hole, but it was the only roof and bed he could afford. And now it was burned.
"Blast it." He raked his fingers through his hair and looked over his shoulder as he hurried through another alley, but fog just swirled behind him. No flashes of white armor cut the darkness.
He still quickened his pace.
What the blazes had he just seen? The Chancellor locking himself in his office after hours and sneaking a call to the top geezer of the Separatists? And what was with those robes? And the creepy-as-hell statue? And those eyes?
A sickly gold that twisted his stomach even as they pulled him in and made it impossible to look away. Like some invisible grip lie behind them.
No. Something very wrong was in that office tonight. And now Palpatine would know that he saw it. He would know who he was.
And he would send his dogs to sniff him out.
He didn't know when he started running, but he found himself gasping for air. He collapsed against a mass of graffiti and posters, and his legs gave out from under him, knees hitting the sticky ground as he sucked in the musty fog permeating the alley.
What could he do? Where could he go? If Palpatine… or whatever he was, was making shadow-deals with Dooku... he would kill to keep that a secret. He'd kill anyone to keep that a secret.
He wiped his mouth, and fell back on his haunches, letting the alley wall take his weight. There was no choice here. He had to run. Get as far away from this cesspit as possible. Wasn't like he had anything worth staying for anyway. This place had made damn sure of that, hadn't it?
He shook his head. But getting off planet took money, and he didn't have any. The low-lives who could get him out quietly... once you got in bed with them, you weren't allowed to leave.
No, he was stuck on Coruscant. And if he couldn't escape up, he'd have to escape down and lie low. Really low. And there was only one place in the lowest levels he'd be able to get a room for free. Even if he swore to himself he'd never talk to that bastard again.
He dropped his head, and ran a hand through his hair. If he had just recorded that video feed…
"Dangerous place to be hanging out by yourself, human."
He flinched and snapped his head up.
Three rodians sauntered down the alley, slimy skin glistening under the dingy light.
Blast it... He ground his teeth and grabbed the edge of a dumpster to his right. He really didn't need any more Black Sun bantha-scat right now. "I already paid my fee this week." Well, mostly, anyway. He hauled himself up. "What do you want?"
His touch lingered on an empty glass bottle teetering on the dumpster's edge.
A glint of metal in one of their hands. "You already try to cheat us once, and now lie about it? You think we no count how much you give? You save us a trip being here. Give rest of fee, and we make sure nothing bad happen to you tonight."
A little too late for that, swamp-sucker. He cinched the strap of his bag tighter, and narrowed his eyes. "I'm not givin' you nothing, bug." He didn't have anything left to give anyway.
Black, speckled eyes glanced at each other, and green hands reached for waistbands.
Sith-spit. He clamped his fingers around the cold glass of the bottle, and hurled it as hard as he could into the leader's face.
Glass smashed against flesh, shattering into bulbous eyes.
A scream. Blasters pulled free from belts.
And then he was running. He dove out of the alley and a shot tore the air behind him. You have got to be kidding me!
"Kill him!"
Fire raced through his limbs, and he pumped his legs faster than he ever had as blaster bolts scorched the walkway. Beings screamed and shouted, jumping out of the way or being knocked down. His lungs burned with ozone. I am not dying tonight.
A shot torched past his head, and he spat an oath and jerked to the side into another alley. His heart hammered in his chest, and his skin was ice. Come on, you blasted hellhole, give me something I can use.
Footsteps thundered down the alley behind him.
He grit his teeth and darted around a corner, his shoes slipping on the layers of grime, and through the fog smothering his breath, a sky-taxi glimmered on a loading pad.
There!
He scrambled for his footing and sprinted ahead as more blaster shots flew past him. One struck the side of the taxi.
Those standing nearby yelled and dove for cover. A woman concealed under a dark hood spun around and stared.
The driver of the taxi jerked his head down, and smashed his palm on the ignition button.
He lunged, stretching for the door handle. "Wait!"
The taxi lifted away, his fingers grazing the door as it rose into the neon-tinged haze and shot away from the platform. "No!"
"You die now!"
He sucked in a breath and whipped around.
A blaster bolt slammed into his chest.
His back hit the ground. Seared flesh stung his nose. Black dots appeared in his vision, small at first but growing larger.
A snap-hiss echoed in his ears. More screams.
The dots swallowed his vision.
CHAPTER TWO
Muffled voices. He was moving. Or was he floating? Someone was touching him. More voices.
Something strange bloomed inside him. Faint. A whisper of a whisper. And then it was gone.
He felt cold.
CHAPTER THREE
Light stabbed through the murky darkness, and he pinched his eyes shut tighter, a small moan rumbling his throat. What the blazes… Felt like a bantha tap-danced on his skull.
He cracked his eyes, blinking away the blur.
A small luminator in the wall beside him sent shards of light piercing through the dark room, making instruments of polished durasteel glint like constellations around him.
He pinched his brow. Where in the sands of Tatooine was he?
He dug his elbows into the mattress, and pain lanced through his chest. He sucked in a breath and collapsed back into the sheets again, and everything rushed back to him.
The Black Sun. The foggy loading dock.
Palpatine.
A cold image of yellow irises glowing in the darkness whispered through his mind, and his heart fluttered as he looked around the room. Wherever this place was, he needed to get out before he got found and then got dead.
He grit his teeth and pulled himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The sterile tunic draped over his torso fell open, and the stench of bacta wafted up from his chest.
His nose wrinkled. Where were his clothes?
His bag peaked out from under a chair by the foot of the bed.
He paused. Probably not a prison med bay, at least... He had to have at least a couple warrants out on him. Still needed to get out. He leaned over, and a sensor attached to his chest tugged against his skin.
If the sensors came off, someone would come running, even if this wasn't a prison.
He braced his hands on the mattress, and stretched his leg toward the bag, hooking his foot under the strap and lifted it onto the bed. Pad... Knife... Definitely not a prison. Didn't matter. Still needed to get out, and get low.
He took the data pad and one of the short cables coiled at the bottom of the bag, and placed them on the bed. Then he took the small knife he used for stripping wires, and pried the front panel off the monitor he was attached to, plugging his data pad into it.
He tapped the screen a few times, and the pad chimed a pleasant 'ding'.
His lip curled.
He shoved everything back into his satchel and ripped the sensors from his body, slinging the bag over his shoulder and creeping over to the door. Ten to one says a guard's still waiting on the other side.
He pressed the door panel, and it hissed open.
A deserted hallway ran left to right, moonlight glinting through arching windows that reached up as far as he could crane his neck, playing across marble floors and curving walls the color of aged sand.
The upper city of Coruscant stretched beyond the glass.
He stopped in his tracks, and his lips parted. The Jedi Temple. This was the Jedi Temple.
He pulled out his data pad again, and looked at the date.
02:37 30th.
He had been out for five days? His skin prickled. Palpatine definitely knew who he was by now. But how in the blazes had he ended up in Jedi Temple? An ambulance would have taken him to a hospital. If someone even bothered to call one for him at all.
And the hospital would have reported his blaster wound to the police. The police would have figured out who he was and logged his name in their records. And that would have led the dogs Palpatine would no doubt have searching for him straight to his hospital room with a needle full of Excine toxin.
He ran a hand through his hair. But he was alive. Somehow. And stuck in the lair of the vaunted Warrior-Monks themselves.
It would be easier to escape a prison.
He stepped to the glass of the window, and peered through the night toward the arches of the Senate curving against the ink horizon. Palpatine would still be looking for him. He wouldn't just let a loose end dangle. Not when that loose end could become a noose around his neck.
And what Aiden saw in that office could become a hell of a noose. Palpatine would never just let that go. He'd be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.
He tapped a finger against his thigh. But maybe… Maybe there was a way to avoid having to disappear into the lowest levels. Avoid having to go crawling back to that pig and his lounge.
It would be a gamble. A big one. But if it worked, Palpatine wouldn't be able to touch him. And he'd never have to step foot in that neon hell again.
And that was worth almost any risk.
"Quite the view, is it not?"
He flinched and spun around, and his bag flopped against his side.
A woman glided toward him, hands folded in earthy, brown robes. Striped montrals curved above her head, and lekku swayed at her waist with each step. "It would be very rude to leave without informing your hosts."
Her eyes searched his. Firm, but not unkind. And he came to a decision.
"I need to speak with the council."
CHAPTER FOUR
The Jedi's brow arched. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, that wasn't it. She gestured for him to follow, and the hem of her robes tickled the floor as she walked into the room he just 'escaped' from.
He hesitated, looking from one end of the moonlit corridor to the other, but finally hefted the bag on his shoulder and followed her inside, finding her standing next to the bed, waiting for him.
She stretched her hand toward the mattress.
And so the unspoken power-play begins. If Palpatine didn't know he was here, he could afford to play along for now. He dropped his bag at her feet, and lowered himself onto the bed.
A shadow appeared in the doorway. "You sent for me, Master Ti?"
His head snapped up.
A hooded woman stepped through. Dark fabric draped over olive-green skin. Diamond-shaped tattoos ran across the bridge of her nose like freckles.
She was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it.
"Would you attend to our guest, young one?" Ti said. "It seems he's reopened his wound."
He glanced down at his chest. The sterile-white bacta patch on his breast was rapidly turning a reddish-brown.
She bowed. "Yes, Master." Her hands worked at his tunic, pushing it away from the wound. More diamonds disappeared up her sleeves.
Ti placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What is your name, young man?"
He winced as glue pealed from skin. At least she was getting right down to business. "Aiden Stari."
She nodded slightly. "I'm Shaak Ti, and this is Padawan Barriss Offee. She's the one who brought you here."
He turned to look at her and she ducked her head, eyes hidden beneath the hood.
The taxi platform. That's where he knew her from. "I guess I owe you my life, then."
"You don't owe me anything." She still didn't meet his eyes. "It was my duty as a Jedi."
He wasn't gonna look a free rescue in the mouth.
"Well... anyway. Thanks." He turned to Shaak Ti. "Look, I appreciate patching me back up again"—He raised his affected shoulder for emphasis—"But I really need to see the Council."
"Oh?" A hint of humor twinkled in her eyes. "It must be very important if you wish to summon the Council at this hour."
"Palpatine is conspiring with Dooku."
The humor vanished.
Green fingers paused in their work.
It was about the response he expected.
"I see..." She peered down at him. "This is very disappointing news. How do you know this?"
He blinked. That… was not the response he expected. "I know an envelope being passed under the table when I see it. Our glorious leader's been making late night calls to Dooku, and it's not for peace talks." If she was gonna shoot straight and to the point, so would he.
"You didn't answer my question."
"Sorry." He shook his head. "That's all I'm saying until I get a couple things in writing."
She studied him, her face passive, and Barriss glanced between them. He'd shown half his cards, now all he could do was see if she called, or folded.
"Very well," she said, finally. "Wait here, and I will return shortly."
She gave a look to Barriss, and disappeared out the door. And a sense of unease blossomed in his gut as he watched her leave, her non-answer hanging in the air. That was way too easy. And it wasn't a call or a fold.
Barriss continued working on his chest. A new bacta patch already covered the wound securely, but she continued pressing her fingers around the adhesive border as the minutes passed.
He swallowed against the heavy feeling whispering in his gut, and he forced a quirk onto his lips. "I think it's on there."
Unreadable violet looked back at him.
The feeling grew.
"Aiden Stari."
He looked up as Shaak Ti reappeared in the door, flanked by two robed figures.
"You are under arrest for espionage, and attempted subversion of the Republic."
OOO
The Temple guards seized Aiden.
"What?" He looked at them in shock. "No!"
They pulled him to his feet, dragging him by the arms toward the door.
"The bastard is lying!" He dug his feet into the floor in vain as he struggled in their grip. "The bastard is lying! He's working with Dooku!"
His shouts echoed down the halls, and Barriss frowned. "Master Ti? I don't detect any deception from him."
"We will discover the truth soon enough, Padawan."
Shaak followed the Temple guards out the door, leaving Barriss alone in the room. Her shift would be over soon, but she didn't think she would be able to sleep much. Too much energy swirling inside her like a constant whisper. It had been ever since she brought Aiden into the Temple.
The Chancellor had informed the Order of Dooku's unexpected contact, as well as the subsequent intrusion into the Senate's systems. He claimed the Senate Bureau of Intelligence was unable to trace the source of the intrusion, but it was assumed to be an agent of Dooku.
But now... Now she wasn't so sure. Aiden believed what he was saying was true. Was he then mistaken? Or was the Chancellor lying?
Aiden's bag lay forgotten next to the bed, the glow of his data pad spilling out from under the flap.
She glanced at the doorway.
An empty hall greeted her.
She walked over to the bag and pulled the data pad out, and the screen burned her eyes in the dark room. It was unlocked.
She tucked it in her robes, and quietly left the room.
OOO
The cuffs were ice on his wrists. The luminator in the ceiling stabbed his eyes, and left everything else dark.
The Jedi stood across the table from him, cream colored tunic contrasting with chocolate skin. "What is Dooku planning?" Stern eyes bore down at him.
"Ask Palpatine."
"You're not helping yourself."
"I'm trying to help you."
A huff. "Really." He pulled out the chair, metal legs squealing against the floor, and he sat down, folding his hands on the table. "By all means, help me."
Aiden stared back at him. Might as well take whatever parting shot I can. Collateral damage was the name of the game, now. Take the bastard down with him. Or at least cause as many problems for him as humanly possible.
And hope the pointless hope that somewhere along the way, someone would believe him.
He leaned forward, cuffs scraping on the table. "Alright." He peered at the Jedi. "Listen careful."
He recounted everything that happened. From the competition to slice into the senate, to Palpatine's secret niche, to the stupid bugs who left him for dead on a loading dock.
Through it all, the Jedi's face was hard and unmoving as stone. But the longer he spoke, the hardness in his eyes shifted, replaced with a look he couldn't place. Like he was working out a puzzle that would explode if he touched it wrong.
"Then she came back and..." He raised his hands, jingling the cuffs. "Here we are."
The Jedi leaned back, absently tapping his finger on the table, and he glanced at the one-way mirror on the far wall.
"Do me a favor," Aiden said.
The Jedi regarded him once more.
"I'm not suicidal, and I'm not gonna piss anyone off in the mess hall. So when I'm found dead in my cell, nail the bastard to the wall like the rat he is."
The Jedi stared at him.
And then, without a word, he rose from his seat and walked out, the door sighing shut behind him.
OOO
Obi-Wan Kenobi stood next to Yoda in the observation room, running his thumb and forefinger over his beard.
Light flooded into the room for a brief moment, and Mace joined them at the window.
"What do you think?" Mace said, gazing at the street rat through the glass.
"Certainly not what I expected."
"It's not possible."
Obi-Wan's lip curled. "Strange days when we find ourselves hoping we're being lied to."
"Oh, we're being lied to. The question is: who's doing the lying?"
Yoda hummed deep in his throat, his walking stick tapping against the floor as he began hobbling toward the door.
"Master Yoda?"
"If being deceived, we are," he said. "Draw out the truth, we will."
The clacking of his walking stick faded away, and Mace and Obi-Wan glanced at each other.
"I hate it when he gets cryptic."
OOO
Barriss sat in an isolated corner of the Archives, submerged in the glow of multiple displays. Aiden's data pad teetered on the edge of the table, names of slicers he had communications with running down the screen.
The Archive terminal in front of her connected to the Temple's criminal database.
An hour of backtracking through his device history revealed he was telling the truth. At least to some degree. There had been a competition among Coruscant's slicers to breach the senate, and Aiden had been in contact with the other competitors, giving her a list of names to work from.
The difficulty was, they were all code names. Slicers never used real names in their dealings. They were known among their peers and clientele only by a moniker they chose for themselves.
Unless, of course, they got caught at some point in their career.
She typed name after name into the Temple's database, hoping for a match in their records. Finally, one of the names came back positive.
Dak Landon, code name: Holoslug
She leaned forward as she read.
Arrested six years ago for slicing into Blastech's systems and making illegal copies of their latest weapon designs. Claimed he was working on behalf of Blastech competitor Armamax.
Released one year ago. Current residence: Sunset Heights, Uscru District. Unit 482.
She copied the information onto her own data pad, and closed the terminal. The Temple's earliest risers were just beginning to filter in as she grabbed Aiden's tablet off the desk and made for the exit, a single destination in mind.
She hurried through the halls, her cloak billowing behind her, and she arrived at the detention center just as Aiden was being led out of an interrogation room by Masters Kenobi and Windu.
"Masters." She stopped in front of them and bowed, clutching the data pads against her chest as she politely stood in the perfect spot to make it impossible for them to pass without acknowledging her.
Mace looked down at her. "Is there something you need, Padawan?"
"I've made an important discovery, if you could spare a moment."
He nodded for Obi-Wan to go on ahead, and folded his hands in his robes. "What is it you wish to share?"
She glanced at Aiden as Obi-Wan ushered him past, and he looked right back at her. She waited until they were far away to speak.
"He is telling the truth." She handed Mace the data pad. "He wasn't the only slicer who infiltrated the Senate that night."
He frowned. "Where did you get this?"
She averted her eyes, and clutched her own data pad tighter against herself. "It was left among his personal items when he was taken away. I thought it my duty to investigate."
"It was your duty to turn it over to be properly analyzed," he said. "Communications like these can be easily fabricated. And an agent of Dooku would go to all lengths to sell their story."
"But—"
"Leave it alone, Padawan. It's not your place."
He brushed past her, taking Aiden's data pad with him.
She watched him go, and her lips parted in shock. Master Windu had never been that rude to her before. No Jedi had been that rude to her before...
Her brow drew together, and her mouth pulled into a tight frown.
If Master Unduli was not currently away from the Temple on a mission, she would seek her council as to what to do next. As it was, she was left to decide her own course.
Her personal data pad grew heavier in her hands, the information inside calling out to her like the constant whisper in her belly, and her eyes narrowed. A Jedi's place was to uncover the truth, no matter how unpleasant the findings may be.
And that's exactly what she was going to do.
OOO
Palpatine sat in his office as the mid-morning sun struck the window, his mind elsewhere. The proper steps had been taken to ensure no complications would arise from this incident, but the source of the annoyance, this 'Aiden Stari', still needed to be found and dealt with.
The little cretin was proving... elusive.
The door hissed open, and Mace Windu strode in without invitation, flanked by a laughably weak knight he didn't recognize.
"Master Windu." Wrinkled hands gripped Nubian leather as he pushed himself to his feet. The cool of his saber sat against his wrist inside his sleeve. "This is certainly unexpected. Please, have a seat. What can I do for you?"
Mace stopped in front of the desk. "I won't be here long."
On that, we can agree.
"Very well," he said. "What important business brings you all the way to my office, Master Jedi?"
"I came to inform you the slicer responsible for the intrusion into your system has been apprehended, and he's waiting to be transferred to SBI custody."
"Ah." Lips pulled back over yellow teeth. "The situation will be resolved shortly, then."
Mace looked at him evenly. "Indeed."
"Well, that's very good news, Master Windu. But you didn't need to take time out of your busy schedule to tell me in person."
Mace strolled around the desk, trailing his gaze across the various artifacts scattered around the room. "You're probably right, Your Excellency."
Palpatine raised an eyebrow. He folded his hands patiently, and his saber slid down closer to his palm.
Mace came to stand in front of the window, admiring a small statue in the corner. "Join me, Your Excellency."
"Master Windu?"
He didn't turn around. "Join me."
Palpatine narrowed his eyes, but did as he was told, silk robes swishing across the lush carpet until he stood beside Mace.
"Would you be so kind as to place your hand on the statue, Your Excellency?"
Palpatine chuckled. "This is becoming quite silly, Master Windu."
Mace smiled. "Indulge me."
The two men stared at each other, and the temperature of the room dropped.
Slowly, Palpatine lifted his hand, his left hand, and placed it on the statue's head.
Silence reigned.
Mace's smile became slightly ironic. "Thank you for your time, Chancellor."
He turned and walked away without so much as a glance back, his pathetic companion following in his wake.
As Palpatine watched him go, his eyes became slits and his jaw creaked. Yet the ghost of a smile played across his face. The situation would be resolved very shortly, indeed.
You should not have gone to the Jedi, my young friend.
END CHAPTER