Sith Secrets

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Folklorum, Alderaan
Press Conference
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Elevated on a hoverpodium, Mon Mothma responded to the latest set-back in OASR's efforts to redeem the Droid Initiative. So you will continue to pursue finding alternative means of labor-

We will not rest until we find a suitable solution to this problem.

Mon Mothma abandoned the podium and was swiftly swept backstage by security officers. Meeting Qui-Gon, they efficiently stepped to the waiting vehicle and sped off back to her headquarters. I know set-backs must be expected, she said, kneading her hands in her lap, but this only goes to show how far people will go to fight us.

-No matter how illogical, the Jedi added folding a hand over hers in a way of comfort. He had great respect for the Senator and found her cause noble, but it frustrated him that it did not find unanimous support.

Well, I suppose I should get back to work and find out what happened to that shipment.

Qui-Gon wanted to tell her that they'd never discover what exactly occurred to that shipment because whoever did it would have taken extreme measures to cover their tracks, but he knew she did not need further discouragement at this time. On the contrary, he offered his assistance.

She broke into a weary, but appreciative smile. Thank you Jedi Qui-Gon. I'll call up the team.



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Walkar, Bonadan
Governor's Palace
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The first day of official mediation closed and the group slugged out of the conference room drained of attention.

With little explanation, Obi-Wan informed the healer he would escort her back the clinic. Master Li'sarrow was adamant, he justified in response to the quirky cringe that spread across her face.

Thank you but I can take care of myself.

You do not have a choice.

That's quite presumptuous of you.



Already ruffled from the humbling morning, Elia huffed out the door and weaved her way into the crowd in a deliberate effort to leave him behind. Glancing over her shoulder with the hope that she had lost him, she barreled down through the main street, irritated at his brashness. She did not appreciate being taken as inferior and did not need to be taken care of. Spinning around to see if he had followed her, she picked up her pace and fumed over what Master Li'sarrow could have possibly told the Jedi.

'I failed at the Nimitz; I can't take care of my own. Here was my chance at redemption. Reestablish the healer's reputation.....'


*

Her white cloak mirage in and out of the crowd, but following her Force imprint, Obi-Wan was able to tail behind at a safe distance. Irritated by her self-centered and arrogant impudence, he wondered how Qui-Gon let such instances slide without ever having seemed disturbed. He recalled King Frane of Rutan who felt comfortable treating the Jedi with whatever rude inclination overtook him, but Qui-Gon responded calmly and even respectfully to each of the discourtesies. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, found such remarks and behavior entirely unacceptable and was not about to let such slide.

Watching her slip down a quiet side street, he picked up his pace. He frowned as she deliberately hurried on and watched as she checked behind her every few minutes to see if he had caught up.


*****


From a distance, the woman noticed the healer stop and turn around. The voyeur ducked as the petite brunette scanned the walls of the alleyway, then drop an electro-dagger from the sleeve of her robe and turn. Aiming her crossbow, she pulled back the taut thread and steadied her arm.


*****


Elia spun around. Searching the virtually empty alley, her eyes told her she was entirely alone, but an awkward feeling pestered her at the back of her neck. Closing her eyes, she searched inwardly for the threatening presence. The Jedi was still following her. But there was something else....

You shouldn't walk in the open.

Startled with a transparent gasp, she lifted her chin. I told you there was no need to accompany me! Sliding the blade back into her sleeve, she glared at him defiantly. None taken by her slyness, he knowingly glanced down at her empty palm.

Void of all life, the steep walls formed a dark, narrow pathway without any inlets or even windows. Obi-Wan remained diligent, realizing they would have no where to escape if attacked.

Moments after this thought, a gurgling eased up from behind them, the sound echoing through the long hall. Nervously spinning around, the two witnessed white steam shoot out the ground in twenty foot towers beginning a far off and speed towards them in succession. Noticing the asphalted earth covered with the vents beneath their feet, they looked up at one another in expectation.

Even before they could respond, the steam blew right up their robes and sprayed them with a warm stench. Expecting the steam to be much hotter, they swiped the liquid off their faces and gagged for air.

What is that putrid smell? Obi-Wan demanded, sniffing at the collar of his robe.

It must be the sewer, she said, pinching her nose.

This doesn't happen all over town, does it? He bounced his head back and forth and rolled his eyes when she nodded. I guess we're just the lucky ones.

Seconds later, the gurgling began again. With a quick glance at one another, they bolted down the alley. They could hear the steam sputtering out of the vents behind them, getting closer and closer. Running at their top speeds and smiling at the competition, Obi-Wan left her behind. Storming out of the alley onto a cleanly paved sidewalk, he hopped into a turn just in time to see the white mist plow through Elia seconds before she reached the edge. Overtaken, she slowed her run and skipped out of the alleyway, her white robe flying up over her shoulders. Still breathing heavily, Obi-Wan crossed his arms and covered his mouth to muffle a well earned guffaw.

'Satisfaction for the victor,' he thought without a twinge of guilt for savoring such sweet revenge. Seeing no harm had occurred, he found himself unable to resist a cynic's response. Justice for leading me down that sewer, he jeered swiping at the folds of his own robe. Although the situation lingered on awkward, to witness that look of defeat on Elia's face eliminated all embarrassment he might have felt for her earlier this morning.

Her shocked face, dripping with condensed steam, displayed an exaggerated frown of disgust at the bad luck. Pointing at her disshelved robe which had folded back over the top of her head, Obi-Wan stifled his urge to bask in the glory of his victory, and limited his comments.

Very funny, she barked, feigning serious irritation as she straightened out her clothing. What kind of protection are you?

The free kind. His comment did not earn a pleasant response.

Just leave me behind, why don't you!?!?

Look who's talking! I nearly had to chase you down here. Besides, you should have been faster, he snickered mercilessly and wandered over to her as she wiped herself off. Your alright, he said pacifistly, helping her untangle the billowy hood of her robe.

Ugh! I am going to smell forever, she complained.

Well, me too, but he knew it was little consolation. She obviously did not like to lose.

Yes, but I twice as bad.

Frowning, she took off her robe altogether and shook it out, heavy with the damp. Forgetting her identity momentarily, she draped it over her arm.

Now, are you sure you know where we're going? he teased, foregoing his usual self-conscious reserve.

she snapped, I know exactly where we are. She looked around for street signs and tugged at her hair. Here. Hold this. Pawning off her cloak, she unraveled the rolling pin that held her long dark locks and tucked the stray strands back into it.

See, we're on Belveiw.

He didn't have any idea what that meant, and they both knew it. Chortling at her response, she stopped in front of a shop window and viewed herself. He found her transformed personality far more tolerable now that her pride had been taken down a notch or two, and began to rebuke himself for taking so much pleasure in the poor girl's misfortune.

Taking back her cloak, she threw it over her shoulders, and lifted back the hood.

While Obi-Wan didn't think much of the act, he too, became more aware of their surroundings. There aren't many people out.

Happy to leave behind the embarrassing moment, she jumped on the change of subject, though continued to huff her answers with irritability. It's supper. Most are in their homes.

But its not even dark.

It's just not as noticeable with the four moons. It's kind of a constant gray here.

How long have you been here?

Over six years. I know this place pretty well.

Apparently, not well enough, he remarked playfully.

I don't think I would have chosen that particular alley if I had known that would happen at that time.

Reassessing the last few minutes, he made a firm resolve to conduct himself more like a Jedi and cease the cheap jabs. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he glanced across the street.

After a few moments of silence, she wondered what suddenly changed his attitude. Just as the thought came to her, she noticed a wall plastered with flyers supporting the secession. The same poster repeated its message over and over in a huge tessellation. Obi-Wan recognized the picture as Senator Din shaking a fist at the Senate. Beneath, it read,


Big brother Republic:
Whose freedom are you preserving?


Heads hung, they shuffled their feet passed the advertisement. To top it off, on the ground spray painted in sweeping red letters was written, Support Relvaire.

An awkward silence washed over her, and her throat tightened. Did he notice, she wondered? Someone must have told him before he came out. She cringed imagining she would have to explain herself again- to a stranger she hardly knew.

Thankfully, as if he read her mind, he admitted his knowledge. Master Li'sarrow told me this morning. Stomping on the letters as if to rub them out as she walked, she suddenly became very quiet. Folding her arms across her chest, she scrunched her shoulders together.

Noticing her discomfort, he added, You don't need to say anything.

And she didn't.

They walked the next ten minutes in silence, until they came upon Lepkaum.

Before he could ask about it, she announced she'd take him there the following day.

I can make it from here, we're nearly out of the city.

He nodded; she'd had enough grief today. Temporarily surrendering, he obeyed her wish without comment, and waited until she had walked on a few paces before turning around and heading back. On the return route, he wandered curiously passed Lepkaum, a thickening gloom spreading over the area.



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Palpatine's Private Office
Coruscant
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The Senator was eager to know what happened the first day of negotiations, and was waiting patiently to hear from Kiltma, drumming his fingers absent-mindedly.

the voice materialized from the minute speaker beneath the holo pad.

Kiltma, give me good news.

Unfortunately, nothing eventful happened today.

he sighed with a twinge of disappointment, I suppose, no news is good news. That CSA rep hasn't mentioned anything about the Droid Initiative, has he?

No, but we've been in close contact.

Make sure he doesn't offer it prematurely, as I would hate for it to be discredited before any real evidence to the contrary be formally recorded. In the meanwhile, if anything of importance arises, I'll expect an immediate contact.

Of course.

I do have your trust, have I not, Kiltma? Senator Palpatine smoothed over the velvety cloth around his front.

Yes, my lord.

Good. I'll be in contact.


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Clinic
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The healer pounded the dirt road back the to clinic, mumbling to herself as if the sound of her own voice might drown out the guilt, and embarrassment. Clenching her fists, she flung her arms out in the air in an anxious stretch as she hopped up the last few steps. As expected, all was quiet on the western front.

Slipping into the common area, Elia plopped down on the couch and picked up a popdisk. The headline was something about cloning technology.

Thaum spun around from his consul to greet Elia. Well....?!?! How did it go?

A pitiful expression pruned her face.

That bad?

I couldn't think of a better way to waste my time. The negotiations have nothing to do with the Simmians; it has to do with money. What's all this about? Changing the subject, she tossed the popdisk to the other side of the couch and rubbed her temples.

Why are you so surprised at that? You always knew it was the money.

Sitting on her cold hands, she fastened her feet Indian style between the cushions. I don't know. I thought....

Thaum waited expectantly, but understood her disappointment. Interrupted by a ready tone, he spun back around to his consul, and downloaded the information that flooded the screen.

What are you doing?

I ran some tests on Li'Tala today.

How is she? His eyes scanned the computerized assessment. Not so good. Her lungs are barely functioning, he sighed and turned around again to face his friend, but her spirits are high.

Elia nodded half-heartedly. She's a sweet girl. I wish there were something more we could do.

Me too.

So are you going to tell her?

Nah. She's just a kid. I'll go in and see her again later. Kiana's gonna be real upset. That's her girl. After a moment of pensive thought, Thaum stretched up and around, yawning loudly.

Where you going? she whined.

It's my turn to make dinner tonight. Want to go out to the garden with me? You can help me decide what to fix.

Easing off the couch, Elia picked up on their earlier conversation about the negotiations. I was hoping in that minute chance that I might be able to actually change something. Or that there was a reason for me to be there, but obviously there isn't. She didn't mention how the governor threatened and belittled her, or how rudely she had acted towards the Jedi, but her face flushed in the thought.

Picking up baskets in the kitchen, they slipped outside into the lengthy twilight and hopped across the stepping stones that wound their way to the greenhouse out back. At his heals, she tried to brush past the humiliation as they stepped into the humid greenhouse.

I hate him. I hate everything he represents. How can I participate in such bureaucracy and maintain any degree of integrity? I can't. Throwing an open palm to the air, she dangled at the threshold of psychological defeat.

She was still frozen in the doorway when he caught sight of the stretched pelt drying in the corner. She noticed her friend flinch as though he might comment, but settled for a firm questioning glance before shuffling down the garden aisles.

Shifting her eyes to avoid the concerned gaze, she cocked her head to the side and threw her hand on hip, returning to her last thought. It's ridiculous, Thaum. The whole thing is a sham.

What did you talk about today? he asked, examining a bulbous purple vegetable.

Nothing. That's just it.

What did you do all day then? He held up the vegetable for approval.

She shrugged in affirmation. We signed paperwork for nearly an hour, verifying our purpose and honest intentions. Finding herself moseying through the garden behind her friend, she soon found herself pruning her own plot while her thoughts still wrapped up in the day's frustrations.

So when do you actually get to make some decisions?

You've got to be kidding. It's pointless. Look what's happening to my hydrangea.

His arms now full, he glanced up momentarily to see her pluck away at the plant. You want to know what I read today? Come on.



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Dvorak, Mandalor
Trafalgar Estate
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So, I understand you finally opened your doors to cloning. It's all over the news.

Don't make it sound like it's that big of a deal, father. You know we've had that technology for twenty-five years. But now that the Senate passed the bill to allocate money for cloning, they've deregulated the industry making it legal for companies like us to sell our services.

Leopold dined casually with his daughter, Fianat, and his three grandchildren in their stone country estate. The economy was booming and Leopold's family was reaping the many benefits of well planned investments, and remained happily untouched by the state of affairs on Bonadan. He'd learned the knack from his own father who'd learned it from his and down on the line. He would have liked to have been able to pass on the skill to a son of his own, but fate would have it otherwise. Luckily, his daughter had made up for any lack of pecuniary skill on his son's part.

So what kind of services do you plan to offer?

We've been approached by a number individuals wishing to clone themselves, and thereby defy their meager status as mortals.

Leopold laughed, scraping the last bite of meat off his plate. What did you say to that?

Are you done, sweetheart? Fianat asked her youngest child, as she wiggled in her seat. We're not in that kind of business, Father.

How much were they offering?

We're strictly medical, you know that.

Isn't immortality a medical issue?

An arched eyebrow and piercing gaze told him not to argue this one.

I've got a number of contracts lined up. The most lucrative though tend to be those with pure bred humans. They seem to believe they have the right to life. We are in constant need of human cells and DNA. But you know, overall, we're providing a variety of organic tissues and chemicals for over a hundred species.

She was his most valuable asset and he trusted her judgment above all others. That is why he gave her Curel. Since she had taken over nearly ten years ago, the company had expanded considerably, and profits had nearly tripled.

But nothing could wipe that grin of contentment off his face as he now admired his growing grandchildren. Reclining to ease the distention of a heavy, wonderful meal, Leopold crossed his leg on top of the other and sighed. The reverie was soon interrupted though by a message calling him back to his home office. Politely excusing himself, he waved a goodbye to the youngest who whined and reached out her arms when he exited.

Strolling to his private quarters, he admired the mirrored holos along the hallway of his extended clan and marveled at the similarities of facial structure. It honored him to know that this was his bloodline and that he were continuing on a long lived tradition.

Sitting back into his plush chair, he replayed the holo.

A dark figure materialized before him, one he had not seen in years, and a voice that croaked with old age. I trust you have been comfortable these twenty-five long years for I have come to claim due our bargain.