The Second Coming

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Walkar, Bonadan
Governor's Palace
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The mid-morning run yielded a calming effect, but Elia was still hot with anger over Trafalgar's rudeness towards her. After taking a quick shower, she was on her way back upstairs to the Jedi's quarters when she literally ran into him, his drink dousing the front of her clean shirt.

When she saw who it was, her nostrils flared like a dragon preparing to breathe its deadly fire. Swiping at the dark red liquid that bled into the white of her breast, she nastily called out to a passing serving droid.

So sorry, mistress, Trafalgar laughed it off, doubling over in a tipsy effort to balance the remaining liquid. Squaring off his shoulders, he patted the front of her tunic with the magic handkerchief that flew from his pocket. Brushing his hand away gruffly, she ordered the droid to bring her a towel.

Let me make it up to you, Healer, Trafalgar offered with a shaky bow.

You've done more than your fair share already, she huffed away towards the bar.

I might be able to share some rather interesting information.

You don't know anything I could possibly be interested in, dismissing the offer as a drunken promise.

What about Aklina?

Snatching the towel from the droid, she pretended not to be interested and battered the stained tunic. But she was recollecting her thoughts from Lepkaum and LeTauktch.

Nuzzling his chin into the crook of her neck, he rubbed her arm with his free hand. What is it Tlaska has got hiding out there? Wouldn't you all like to know?

Get off me. Shrugging off the leechy fiend, she stomped away eyeing him surreptitiously, eager should he reveal any more.

But he simply twirled in his tracks and tipped his glass to her, shouting out an inappropriate invitation as she hurried away.


She stomped off. What had he meant by teasing her with such information? If LeTauktch had not mentioned the mining facility a couple of weeks ago, she wouldn't have thought anything of it, but now she was struggling to recall what it was exactly that he said. It was his last request of her, and she had not been able to fulfill it, simply having been preoccupied. And of all people, she owed him for his assistance and loyalty the day Thaum was shot. She cringed to think what happened to him, and offered up a prayer for his peace and eternal freedom.

She did not dwell on this for long though, as she was still plagued by the Mandalorian's enigmatic comment. Did she owe it to LeTauktch and the Simmians to research this further? Even if it turned out to be nothing, what harm might come?

Aye, there's the rub. It was very possible that Trafalgar was attempting to pin her in a tight spot, but he had never been particularly aggressive towards the healers. It seemed his hostility had been focused on her- with pressure from M'ztka no doubt. If that were the case, he'd have little reason to assist her. Dabbing at her sticky shirt front, she grunted as pretentious guests frowned upon her now slovenly appearance. Folding her cloak around the sappy shirt front, she wandered the indoor spa, lost in thought.

After debating about for an uncomfortably sticky hour, she finally marched her way to Trafalgar's quarters wondering what kind of foolishness had possessed her. It had to be fabricated, this information, or why else would he be offering it to her? She must be cautious of a set up, she warned herself as the lift opened. Maybe she should have taken advantage of his drunkenness earlier, as he would be most honest while intoxicated.

Unfolding the note in her hand, she double checked the room number which was quickly fading on the complimentary disposable paper. The receptionist had been reluctant to reveal the information, but after explaining her ambassadorial relationship to the governor, the woman let the information slide.

What could she possibly say? Still slightly embarrassed by the emotional outburst this morning, she commanded herself to let go, and pull it together.
The numbers closed in. 201.329 and 201. 330 and 201.331. Tossing her head back and cinching the stray hairs behind her ears, she cleared her throat and wriggled her shoulders to smooth her robe. The moment of truth. Ringing the bell, a standard serving droid answered the door.

I'm here to see Trafalgar.

Do you have an appointment?



May I ask who is calling?

Healer Amelia. The door closed and she was stranded in the hallway. Peering left then right, she prayed no familiar would turn down this barren shaft in which she had no place to hide. The seconds afforded her ample time to doubt and dart away, but somehow her feet were weighted in a tar pit.

The silence sharpened her senses and she heard stirring beyond the door, yet she still jumped when the door abruptly schwooped open. Please come in. The master will be with you shortly.

Catching her breath, and summoning her courage, she stepped over the threshold into the demon's lair. If anyone saw them together, her position might be compromised. The healers didn't need anymore scandal, and M'ztka had been suspicious from the get-go.

Uncomfortable in the vast amount of space before her, she lingered close to the door. Although similar in design to the Jedi's suite in the Contemporary Victorian wing, Trafalgar's decor was far more modern. The angular edges and trim lines seemed to suit his curt personality.

So, its true. The young man ambled in from the back rooms robed in a gold trimmed dark paisley. I thought the droid had made a mistake. I shouldn't suspect you're here to make an apology.

Peering out from beneath her billowing hood would have made it difficult for him to see the sneer that curled on her lips. You said something about Aklina.

Hmm. Interesting, he admitted, tapping his chin with a forefinger. Can't imagine why I would say a thing like that.

He seemed to have sobered up a bit, for the worse, she determined as his wit was quick and sharp. Pulling off her hood, she snapped back, Well you better remember, Trafalgar, because if not-

A guttural moan tore from his throat, You'll what? You can't touch me, not without my permission anyway, a light chuckle followed his own remark.

Ignoring the ridiculous comment, she threw out a jab of her own. I can see you are in the middle of business, as usual.

She nodded to his attire of a flimsy silken rust robe, and he smiled broadly . Of course. Almost naked without a drink in his hand, Trafalgar ambled over a hidden bar and poured himself a thick light blue drink. Might you stay?

So you don't know anything about Aklina?

No, but I'd love to hear what you know.

Spinning on her heals, she ordered the door to open. Angry at herself, she slapped a flat hand against the door frame on her way out.

Oh, that Aklina, the words flowed out dripping with sappiness.

Elia froze in the doorway, but did not turn around. What do you want? She knew he was stalling for her to offer him something.

That depends.

On what? She slowly turned her body towards him.

What you're willing to sacrifice.

Money? Dear god, you're one of the richest fools in the system-

Ha, you're right there. What good would money be to me? No, no... He sauntered towards her and took a seat on one the front parlor three couches. I need you to speak out against M'ztka. Start a rebellion.

Start a rebellion?! she burst out, eye brows lifting in the surprised humor. I don't know what you're sources have told you, but we aren't in that business.

That's not what I've heard. Eyes piercing her expectantly, he gulped down the last of his drink.

So, what's up? Is Tlaska transitioning to droid labor? Positioning herself nearer, she unfolded her hood in the process and smiled when he answered.

Aklina has adopted an alternate form of labor. Grinning away, he waited for her to beg for more, but she just stood there, stunned.

Growing impatient, eased out of the recline and back to the mini-bar. Care for something to drink?

Why are you telling me this information?

Picking up a clear bottle, the handsome Mandalorian stole a quick glance up from his pouring. M'ztka is as much in my way as he is yours. Gripping the neck of the bottle, he bounced his head back for a potent swig before clasping the full glass and delicately escorting it back to his seat.

She couldn't believe his reasons could be anything other than selfish, so when he revealed this, a sensation of hope surged through her body. And the CSA will abandon Bonadan because they know the Republic won't let its supporters walk away unscathed, she filled in the blanks.

You might say that. They have their own interests.

And what's that?

To save their asses. To make as much money as possible.

It all made sense. LeTauktch had been right, and he wasn't even here to bask in it. Satisfied in a way she hadn't felt in ages, she pressed her hands to her hot cheeks and breathed slowly. Batting her eyes abruptly, she confirmed authoritatively, I will not start your rebellion.

Jumping out of her skin, a pulsing sound interrupted her thoughts, and the droid announced a caller. Master Trafalgar, it's your father.

He nodded his head and eventually turned away. Come back and visit.

As if having received more than she ever expected and with nothing else to say, she shuffled out in an pleasant stupor. Maybe there was hope yet.



++++++++++
Later that Day...
Walkar, Bonadan
Governor's Palace
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Decked out in official finery, the Republic representatives, Kiltma and Chlak, greeted Tlaska's spokesman with weighted bows. It seemed curious to the representatives that although Tlaska had called the meeting just hours before, they must not be very interested in their latest proposal, considering only one woman could be spared to hear the details. Though Kiltma was beyond a doubt that whoever she was, she was likely to be far more competent than that ridiculous character, Trafalgar. He did his best to put on airs though and overlook the slight disrespect. Little did they know however, that Fianat had not settled for sending a mere assistant to find out the specifics of this bargain, she alone secretly traveled from Mandalor.

Thank you for joining us.

The small lights dazzled off the chandelier and sparkled daintily as their footsteps echoed with tempered clicks across the marbled floors of the Conference Hall in the Governor's Palace. Crossing the ornate hotel entrance, they entered one of the many official rooms. The secluded nook still seemed too large for the threesome, as more were expected to attend this private meeting.

Deliberately withholding her identity, she curtly announced, I am unable to speak for Tlaska at this time. I've been told to listen and report. That is all. Now what is it you fellows are proposing? She proceed to fall back casually in the large plush chair as if she were in complete command.

Kiltma and Chlak glanced sideways at each other, chagrined by their counterpart's apparent audacity, but went on. As you know, we are prepared to offer you a skilled pool of labor and a number of seats in the law making branch of the Republic.

The transition from slave labor could take years.

You will only be required to incorporate 10% initially, and rotate in another 10% each ten years following.

I'm concerned that we won't be able to reach that goal in such a short amount of time.

They are offering a monetary stipend on top of the tax cut as an incentive.

What's the penalty for an extension? That hasn't been worked out yet, but as you can see, it is worth it to incorporate by the deadline, Kiltma sipped on the complimentary drink, relaxing now that the conversation had turned.

Internally reviewing the list of questions she had made before she came out, she continued to batter them for clarification. You said skilled workers, who would train the labor?

The sponsoring system would be responsible for the training and general care of their criminals. If you agreed now before the situation becomes too heated, the OASR would be willing to finance a tradeover.

As I said before, I am only here to listen.

Feeling responsible to seal the deal, Chlak spat out a clear warning that verged on threatening. Tlaska has high stakes in Bonadan's future. It would serve you well if you made the right connections now.

Kiltma cut him off, softening his tone of voice. What my friend here means to say is that the Chancellor is offering you the opportunity to break away from Bonadan's grip and have independent representation in the Senate.

Cutting them short, she rose from the table and gathered her things.I'll be in touch.

Do you know how to reach us?

When will you let us know?

Their worried cries fell on deaf ears as she turned her backs on them and exited. Although the intimidation unnecessarily irked her, she nonetheless tended to agree with them. Unwilling to let on, she slipped out, preparing her thoughts to address this with her father.



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Walkar, Bonadan
Governor's Palace
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Elia wandered about the upper levels of the hotel for a while before returning to the Jedi's quarters. Overwhelmed with mixed feelings, she debated on whether or not to say anything about Aklina.

Handing off her robe to the droid, she stepped into the suite as if she owned the place. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon both looked up from their piles of reference books on political history.

What happened to you? No effort was made on Obi-Wan's part to withhold the grin that covered his face upon seeing a huge purple stain blotted all over the healer's pristine white tunic.

She growled in annoyance, holding out the shirt. I had a little run in with Trafalgar.

You what?! Obi-Wan threw his e-book aside while Qui-Gon sat there calmly.
The idiot was raving drunk, she flew up her hand dismissally weaving back to the fresher where she immediately turned on the water and tore off the tunic.

Obi-Wan leaned over the back of the couch. What happened? Where did you see him?!

The bathroom door closed.

Where did you see him? he shouted above the faucet. The excitement rejuvenated him as he was beginning to feel rather hopeless. I hope you kicked his ass.

Qui-Gon finally jumped in. His eyes widened. He hadn't said that aloud, had he?

I had just gotten cleaned up and I was on my way back upstairs, and he plowed into me.

Obi-Wan hooked a dangling arm over the back of the couch.

No, I don't think so. Well, this is just ridiculous, she interrupted covered in water. Send out the droid to fetch me another tunic, please, she shouted, scrubbing the irrecoverable item with whatever chemicals were hidden beneath the sink.

Obi-Wan chuckled at the raucous she was making in there, delighted to see her pay her dues to humility, and got up off the couch.

After ordering her another shirt, he gathered up the laundry from his room and piled it into the droid's arms. We do have laundry bags, master, the droid suggested overburdened by the grimy mess.

Hurry up, I don't want to be stuck in here all day, she yelled out the door, throwing the sopping tunic on top of Obi-Wan's already brimming pile.


Qui-Gon was beside himself observing both their transformed personalities. His padawan was anxious to get out of here when he should have been more concerned about whatever took place between the healer and the CSA rep, Trafalgar. Making a mental note to ask her about it later, he changed the subject as the droid comically exited. I don't think we'll be meeting again today. Perhaps you can show us the Simmian residence.

Are you talking to me?

Qui-Gon sighed, but Obi-Wan answered for her. The healers have been banned from most slave residences now.

I thought they were required to be present? The water to the bathtub turned on and the shouting blessedly ceased.

They are, but not on site.

Interesting. I haven't heard much about the attacker from you, and you didn't mention it this morning. Are the authorities investigating the matter?

He nodded, making his way to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water. Supposedly. I mentioned it when I took Thaum in for questioning, but I have a strong feeling their efforts will be detracted elsewhere.

You're probably right. What have you found?

No fingerprints or carbonbased samples were left behind. The only evidence of her presence was the barbed arrow, which I've stored away.

Did you look up the manufacturer?

He nodded, setting the glass down on the kitchen counter. Yes, but no particular affiliations with any militant groups.

Qui-Gon affirmed, expecting that to be so. Who do you think she was?
Someone hired to incite a riot among the people.

That's all?

I have no evidence that suggests otherwise.

Do you think her presence is related to Thaum's accident?

He shrugged his shoulders, not having considered that route. Responding to the door bell, Obi-Wan retrieved the new tunic.

Knocking on the fresher door, the water turned off and he heard her fumbling out of the shower. Finally she stuck her hand out the door. I hope you don't mind, but all they had were black tunics, he lied.

She began to rage, Send it back! when she snatched it out of his hands and shut the door in his face. Oh yes, very funny.



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Dvorak, Mandalor
Commuter Transport from Bonadan to Mandalor
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Fianat watched air traffic fly by from the window of her private cell when her computer beeped announcing a call. Although she appeared busy with all the technical equipment scattered about, she was engrossed with Relvaire's earlier comments and their newest option. Converting her screen for communication, Wek, her bioengineering prodigy at the Curel Labs, materialized on the lap sized monitor. Fianat, Greetings.

Please tell me you did it... she whispered sealing herself in the spacious unit on the luxury commuter line.

Unfortunately, although the Filipian is a humanoid, the gene is just not compatible with the humans we bred.

Have you tried experimental therapy?

We are doing so now, but we have a limited amount of cells to work with.

The sample's too small?

The whole specimen would have been better.

I'm sorry, she rolled her eyes at this new dilemma. I knew I should have contracted for the whole body.

We need the other sample to proceed, he suggested delicately.

I'll get it. Just do what you can with the other until its delivered.

He knew the stress that fractured along her even face, and worried. Will you be alright until we find a match? I mean, you haven't already told the buyer that we have the gene?

She looked at him a long moment recalling the years of research and trust that bound them. No, we should be fine.

Exhaling in a relieved huff, Wek nodded patting two sets of hands to his long chest. Very well. Send it as soon as possible.

Good luck, Fianat smiled, but the sentiment faded quickly as she contacted the bounty hunter.

Nervously drumming her fingers on the keyboard, Fianat debated whether or not to open up this opportunity to others, but was interrupted with the bounty hunter's message center. I've decided to up the price for the catch, but I need the whole specimen this time. Deliver it before tomorrow, and I'll give you D50,000.
She kept the voice recording short, and hoped it would be enough incentive to get the job done right this time.



++++++++++
Hours Later...
Walkar, Bonadan
Vending Station
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Strangers' bodies bumped against each other at every turn, a mix of sweaty rags and pristine whites. A mass exodus flocked to the Vending Station on the sixth day of the week when the offworlders brought in new shipments of staples and rare exotics. Walkar's docks burst at the seams as Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Elia plowed through the bustle. After the disparaging morning of negotiations, the three had decided to pick up a few things that had been lost to Qui-Gon in transporting his luggage from the shuttle to hotel to clinic. Although earlier he had made some attempt to reach the governor to reconvene, he had received no reply and left his com code with his secretary as a precautionary measure.

I think we can find it up ahead, Healer Amelia shouted over Qui-Gon's shoulder riding his wake lest she be swept away in the torrent. Nudging elbows spun them left and right until eventually they learned to slip through sideways, locking hands to form a serpentine figure weaving its way through the sea of creatures. Obi-Wan would have rather not walked hand in hand like children, but when he inconspicuously tried to shake off the girl's hand, she unfailingly sought it out again after an instant of fright. Catching a glimpse of Obi-Wan's displeased frown amused Qui-Gon, for he suspected he liked the girl more than he wanted to admit.

As they rose a ramp of a stationed craft, Elia viewed the expanse of acres and acres of similar crafts, some that would never see space again, strewn about an airfield like a humungous flea market, which in essence, it was.

Elia had been to the Vending Station a number of times since her arrival on Bonadan, but it always seemed overwhelming; one could not visit even a tenth of it in one day and it was ever changing with new goods and new buyers. This present ship did not appear familiar to her and when she saw the strange looking creatures selling in it, she knew for certain, she'd never been at this end.

Then she smelled it- moist, dark earth. Peeling away from her companion's sweaty palms, Elia followed her nose to the glass aquarium and dug in. This earth, she mused, how much like home. Squishing it beneath her fingers, it writhed with earthworms dangling limply from her palm. Making his way to the front of the crowd which had lessened since they stepped inside, Qui-Gon noticed Obi-Wan cringe when she tasted the soil for salt content muttering a word of repulsion. Pushing passed him, she crossed over to another aquarium filled with a soil lighter in color but far more pungent. Pointing to a label written in an unintelligible font, she argued gruffly with the huge creature behind the counter in a tone that that received a surprised look from both Jedi. Seconds later, the sienna trunk of the creature picked up a huge sack of earth and plopped it before her. As she paid the vendor, Qui-Gon made way for Obi-Wan to heft the sack, which he could have done just as easily himself had the poor padawan not seemed so disgusted by the wriggling contents of the bag.

Perhaps it is best you didn't join the Agri-Core, his master mused observing Obi-Wan crinkle his nose.

Wondering how he'd gotten himself into carrying this infested sack, he made a mental note not to perform any kind gestures in the future. He was also gaining a supreme distaste for the Vending Station and all the annoying creatures in it.

Thank you for getting that. Maybe we can get Thaum's flower bed to grow yet, Elia interrupted his internal complaining, brushing her hand down his biceps thoughtfully.

I'm sure he'll be eternally grateful, he groveled, though he wasn't really upset.

Exiting the ramp, she took Qui-Gon's hand to lead them to the next stall. Such they went down the list of necessities Qui-Gon had assembled back at the Governor's Palace.

As the time was nearing departure they stopped in the hazy shade of an outdoor vendor's booth while Qui-Gon momentarily wandered off in search of backpacks to organize the accumulating materials. Emptying their arms, the goods dropped into a pile between them and they stretched their backs wearily. I'm going to run and get more seeds. Obi-Wan could see the booth in plain view, not more than 15 meters from where he stood and nodded, carefully watching her skirt the traffic.

Kicking the materials in a more compact pile against the edge of the booth, Obi-Wan swatted away buzzing pests that lingered by the soil.

Where's Elia? Qui-Gon returned with three shoulder sacks, acknowledging the nod in the direction of the seed booth. The quick glance forced him to double take the scene. Hovering a couple paces from the Healer stood a wiry Simmian who in profile resembled someone very familiar. Le LeTauktch! The creature looked up and quickly escaped into the crowd.

Elia! LeTauktch! he shouted again, but she didn't hear him. Shooting off after the Simmian, he abandoned Qui-Gon with the goods. He was sure it was the Simmian slave he'd met at the guardbooth, but Elia had told him he was executed for betrayal. Something was off.


*

Elia sensed something the second she turned. Spinning around, she searched the multitude of faces milling around the vendor when a strong clawed hand grabbed her from behind and pulled her between the narrow slots of two boothes. Reaching for her vibroblade, the healer attempted to arm herself, but the attacker efficiently acquired the blade in one swift motion. Dosing her with a pungently drugged cloth, the unseen creature clamped something onto the back of her neck.


*


Qui-Gon watched his padawan sprint across the street, but something held him back from dashing off after him. Scanning over the sea of creatures that swept across the Vending Station, the Jedi searched for the healer whom he had seen just moments before standing next to the Simmian. Fearing the worst, Qui-Gon abandoned the dry goods and darted through the mass of creatures to the seed vendor.


*

Obi-Wan mercilessly pushed through beasts twice his size earning irritated roars and barks. Although he couldn't quite spot him, the Jedi followed his senses scanning over the crowd. Interrupted by another sensation, he looked back over his shoulder for Qui-Gon. When he didn't see him, he gave up on the flighty Simmian and returned to where he last saw him.


*

Lurching this way and that with flailing arms, she fought to face her attacker, but the creature's immensity wrapped around her like a straight jacket preventing any means of self defense. The creature far overpowered her, reaching its coarse armored limb around the front of her waist and pinning her arms to her sides. The other hand kept such a firm hold on her face, she was seldom able to gasp. Elia squirmed for her freedom, and tried not to breathe through the corrosive cloth, but in her panic found she could not allow herself to suffocate. Scratching violently at the palm that engulfed her entire frame, she struggled to maintain clarity. Kicking to the last, her legs would just no longer comply with her will, and she hung limply from the Humanoid's muscular arms.


Picking her up by the back of the neck as if she were merely a rag doll, the muscular woman smashed the healer's face against the makeshift wall, releasing her body. Ripping the item from her neck, she threw her head down towards the ground.
Unseen, Qui-Gon slipped in the small space behind her, his lightsaber igniting with a humm. Whipping around, she fired her crossbow. When Qui-Gon moved to deflect it, his saber split through the flimsy plyboard wall and the tent-like fabric of the awning fell in on top of them as she escaped out the back into the crowd.



Allowing her to flee, the Jedi crouched down by Elia's unmoving body. Surveying injuries, Qui-Gon quickly checked for blood. Relieved to find none, he rested her head on his knees, and pulled out a compact med kit from his utility belt. Obi-Wan dashed in from the crowd slightly winded. What happened?

Pulling some smelling salts from his utility belt, he broke them under Elia's nose. Violent coughing ensued, followed by dry heaves. Rising onto her knees, she spat out the dirt and a drizzle of blood, holding onto the wall for balance as Qui-Gon gave her space. Unable to stand upright, she held onto the rickety wall bent over with coughing.

Meanwhile, irritable threats carried over the booth. The vendor shook her fist at the motley bunch of bystanders as the makeshift ceiling slowly slipped down over her goods.

We'd better get out of here lest they call out the police. We don't need anymore trouble, Obi-Wan gestured towards the woman in the vending booth next door.

Too lucid to understand what was occurring, Qui-Gon hefted Elia up on his shoulder and they slipped away.



++++++++++
Dvorak, Mandalor
++++++++++


Fianat exclaimed from her office. We've got it. Not the whole thing, but a specimen. I'm sending it now, the woman smiled over the secure link to Wek. She'd run downfloors later to check on their progress, but she had complete faith in Wek's abilities. As soon as you isolate it, I want it sent directly to Byss to be introduced to the clone army. This healing feature will make them invincible, she smiled to herself.

Interrupting her reverie, Wek continued. You know your father has already sold the army.

What?!!? He hasn't been down there in years, she screamed anxiously. When could he have possibly done that?

He was here just a few weeks ago and asked me not to tell you.

That senile old bastard... her mind raged through the hypothetical options. Who was it sold to? she demanded to know.

A name wasn't mentioned, but I believe he's Sith lord.

He was going to let me introduce the gene without paying for it!



++++++++++
Walkar
Clinic
++++++++++


Qui-Gon leaned against the back of the couch. I wonder if you might examine her neck as well. He was eager to know the Healer's initial reaction to the strange markings.

How did it happen again? Meerpa lifted back Elia's smock; it had obviously been punctured and was slightly stained the collar. Minor bruising speckled the tissue around an oddly shaped bite but Elia healed quickly, so it was difficult to inspect. I told you she covered my mouth and nose with a cloth soaked in Chemithal, and I felt a pinching right here. Elia rubbed the top of her left shoulder and Meerpa flicked it away.

Thaum, check this.

Swiveling from his tech consul chair, the Healer prodded the area. It looks like a blood centrefuge sample.

A centrefuge? Qui-Gon interrupted.

Yeah, it extracts and separates the blood into its varying elements.
Kiana suddenly jumped up from her seat and yelled behind her. Yeah, Elia just brought back a whole bunch from Curel the other day. Stampeding back in from the residence, a hexagon shaped white disk about 4 long in diameter and 1 deep flew into Qui-Gon's palm.

Flipping it over revealed 6 tiny holes the same shape as Elia's wound. Break it open. Meerpa leaned on the back of the couch over Qui-Gon's shoulder and showed him how to open the disk by sliding back a simple latch. Inside revealed different compartments from which a needle extended from each.

I guess that's what it felt like, though I didn't see it. It wouldn't have hurt so much if he didn't rip it out of my flesh, Elia half moaned.

Did you find anything? Obi-Wan wanted to know when he walked in with Tetre. Qui-Gon overlooked as Obi-Wan examined the area behind Elia's smock, then showed him the disk. Nodding in understanding, he played with the disk and Qui-Gon continued with more questions.

There's nothing else to see, believe me. It's nothing, Elia batted away at Kiana's hands as she poked around her neck.

So this is used here at the clinic?

Yes. We use it to take blood samples, then plug the read out into the computer to check for cell counts as well as infection.

But this doesn't explain why anyone outside the medical profession would need or use such an item. Qui-Gon pondered aloud, rubbing down his neatly trimmed beard.

Stepping around the couch,Obi-Wan pulled two items from beneath the folds of his robe. Not to mention these. I swiped this at the Vending Station, and this is the one that I extracted from the door. The younger Jedi pulled out two barbed crossbow arrows, passing them onto Qui-Gon.

Twirling the two between his fingers, he observed aloud, Well, its obviously the same person, but how can this help us find out who she is-

Or what her motive was for the attack. I think we can surmise it wasn't simply a random rioter, Obi-Wan finished his Master's thought.

Tetre turned from his counsel again. She's probably a contracted independent. Elia... Digging around in the drawer beneath his computer, he pulled out a clear rectangular slide. Your fingernails.

The others instantly caught on, Good idea, hopefully she's on file.

Meerpa ran to the kitchen for a knife. Scraping her index nail clean, Thaum tried to catch it on the tiny slide. Got anymore of that?

Tetre, more slides... Passing on the sample, Tetre dabbed it with a saline solution and covered it. Thaum took samples from each nail as Tetre set up for a match.

Even if we do find out who it is, that doesn't explain their involvement, Kiana confirmed, snuggling closer to Elia until she put her arm over her.

Got something, all heads turned toward Tetre. No, no, it's just Obi-Wan. His image slowly defined itself on the screen.

The group emitted a universal sigh of disappointed while Obi-Wan heavily blushed.

Chuckling at Obi-Wan's embarrassment, Meerpa couldn't resist tossing in that inappropriate comment that hung in the air, And we don't want to know how that got there.

Elia, you've got alot of dirt under your nails. You might want to consider washing every now and again.

If she had washed before now, there might not have been a viable sample, Qui-Gon added soberly.

Okay, okay, this is it, Tetre announced while the image loaded. Ganging around the counsel, Meerpa and Kiana jittered uncomfortably on their knees while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan waited patiently at the couch.

Are you alright? the older Jedi inquired of Healer Elia who slumped back against the couch. Rolling her head to the side to address him, she admitted a nauseating headache. It will take a while my body to entirely expel the toxin.

Obi-Wan moved closer for a better view of the screen. He hunched forward resting his elbows on his knees, squinting. But they said Chemithal is not a substance used to kill, but to immobilize...

Knocking her head back in the other direction, she affirmed. It's used to render patients unconscious before something like a surgery.

Brushing a hand over her forehead, Qui-Gon confirmed that the substance wasn't laced with something more potent.

Anisse Nobel is a half Bondani/Mandalorian Bounty Hunter who resides on Bonadan.

When the image reached high resolution, Obi-Wan moved closer to the consul and knelt beside Kiana. Yes, that's her. She didn't bother to disguise herself.

We must remember though, she was not captured on the holo. We will have a very difficult time connecting her to the healers.

Not with the DNA sample, Kiana concluded logically.

But this doesn't explain why anyone would want Elia's blood in particular. From what you've said, the bounty hunter seemed to have plenty of time to kill her if she wanted.

That's true, Qui-Gon recalled the details of the event. What is particular to Elia that the rest of you don't necessarily have?

Ruebyn sat up taller. She is self healing- as is Thaum.

Elia glanced up at Thaum who froze in his consul chair.

So are we, Kiana affirmed defensively.

Yes, but you were taught how to use the Force to heal with the laying on hands. Their cells can spontaneously regenerate. Ruebyn crushed her hands in her lap to stop them from shaking.

Thaum swiveled in his chair and stared at Elia across the way.

Why would anybody want their blood?

No one answered, seemingly entranced with the pale pattern of the corded carpet.


So far as we know, only Healer Amelia's blood has been extracted, Obi-Wan thought aloud. Perhaps the guards were telling the truth when they claimed they did not attack Thaum.

Healer Thaum, Qui-Gon addressed the young Filipian respectfully. Can you think of any moment in which your blood may have been drawn during the time of the attack?

He shook his head. No, but in all honesty, I don't remember much. I was very close to the brink as one might say.

Let's check him for scars, Meerpa was already up examining the region around the back of his neck.

Nothing I can see here, but they might not show up at all.

One step ahead of the game, Qui-Gon continued to drill them with technical questions. Can the blood samples be replicated for an unlimited supply?

Thaum scrubbed his face with his hands. No, they can't simply manufacture anybody's blood. Organic tissue cannot be synthesized except through compatible organic cells, but a blood sample that size, he pointed to the plastic cartridge, contains millions of samples.

So, enough to decode a self-healing gene, Meerpa finished off Thaum's thoughts.

Okay, so our blood will assist in the progression of science...

I know this sounds awkward, but why not kidnap them for an unlimited supply? Kiana frowned and played with Elia's fingers.

Because in all reality, they'll probably clone.

They were perfectly still, except for some shifty eye movement. Obi-Wan side-glanced to his master. They would have to intercept the samples.

This is not the first we've heard of this though, Tetre sighed recalling an incident from a few years ago. There was some question about bio trafficking from hospitals. I wouldn't doubt you could find such right here on Bonadan.

Taking advantage of the silence, Obi-Wan began his own confession. There was something else I hadn't gotten to mention.... Retrieving the images of the morning, Obi-Wan recalled the curious incident of seeing LeTauktch. It was the same Simmian. I'm certain.

The healers looked back and forth at one another. There's no way he could have escaped.

LeTauktch is the one who held me at the door, Thaum added slowly, working through the strange sighting.