Lost and Found

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Walkar
Vending Clinic
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Li'sarrow's here. Wake up, Kiana. The petite one had fallen asleep in the common area next to Thaum, who now gently nuzzled her awake. Letting her head fall back onto the couch, Thaum weaved his way around the couches and jogged to the porch. Although overcast, the light burned his eyes but he could see Li'sarrow stepping from a shuttle with the two Jedi's aide. A line of hovertrucks snaked its way behind her on down the road. They were really leaving. A stampede rose up from behind him, Kiana screaming, M'Li'sarrow's here! M'Li'sarrow's here! Breezing passed him, she dashed down the steps of the clinic and flung herself into the older woman's arms. Thin and strong, though much more gray than could be revealed over a holo, the Master Healer kissed the top of the Elfin's head. Thank you for coming, Kiana clung to her waist even as they walked towards the clinic.

the older one turned to face them. Thank you for watching over my gems.

They bowed formally, but Qui-Gon was eager to move on. We need to explore a few things while we're here. Will you be alright with them?

She nodded as they others walked towards her. Yes, go ahead.


*

From the door of the clinic, Elia watched the two Jedi bow and disappear, biting her bottom lip.



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Walkar
Vending Station
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A low craft zoomed back and forth showering the parched airfield. Stretching out for miles, the land was sprayed with a chemical sealant to prevent the air from becoming clouded with the fine powdery top soil. Continuing to follow the perimeter of the enormous enclosure, Qui-Gon spoke up, as Obi-Wan eased the speeder down an alleyway. There's something down here. Obi-Wan opened to the Force, playing off his companion's sensitivity.

The alleyway opened to a grand display of shipping and receiving docks, like piers along a waterfront. Huge blocks of warehouses spanned the East side of the frontage road, their faces pitted by large mouths from which the craft entered and exited with their cargo.

They proceeded down the street, aircraft skimming in lanes just above their heads. Although the entrances were a distance away, they were close enough the view the outlines of the creatures who manned they heavy equipment . Guiding the speeder into a shipping lane, they drove past one warehouse after another.

Over there.

Speeding around the back for a closer view, Obi-Wan's suspicions were aroused. Gammorean Boars.

Let's find out what they are stocking.

The younger lead the way as they abandoned the speeder along an off street and made for the mouth of the warehouse.

Scanning the location up and down, Qui-Gon savored each detail, hoping this jigsaw would eventually make sense. But for now, something told him they were on the right track. Master and padawan walked single file along the edge of the Gammorean complex, perusing the the warehouse next to it. Only small vehicles could run this alley, and unlike the Gammorean facility, all the warehouse doors were opened on one side. Uniformed creatures bustled in and out with heavy welding masks disguising their faces. Inside, deep throated voices could be heard shouting over the chaos of day to day business.

Qui-Gon guessed that the business centered on mechanical repair, but he was unable to identify the business of the boars as he peered through the dirty, shattered plexiglass windows. Not seconds later, did he hear the pounding of feet on pavement and spinning around, he turned to see a scrawny Simmian running towards them at full speed from one of the many garages that lined the warehouse.

Eager to brandish his lightsaber, Obi-Wan reached to his belt, but Qui-Gon had just enough time to signal not to act too soon. Twice his height, Obi-Wan absorbed the pale creature's sprinting impetus and threw him against the boar's walls. Easily falling prey, the pliable creature smashed upside down against the wall and crashed to the concrete pavement.

Qui-Gon stood a few paces away, admiring his padawan's work, for he could have done much more harm than he did, and then silently walked up to the slumped form. Bending down to his level, Qui-Gon asked if he was alright.

What do you think you're doing? the Simmian said, rubbing his head.
I know you, Obi-Wan said matter-of-factly, towering over the stunned albino creature. Your name's LeTauktch, and you were trying to attack us.

You don't know me, and I was doing no such thing.

You're the gatekeeper from Lepkaum. I met you with Healer Amelia.

I don't know what you're talking about. He spat out a drizzle of blood.

You are obviously a Simmian though, Qui-Gon mused, but not a slave. How is that so?

How do you I'm not a slave?

You'd be at a work detail right now, Qui-Gon stepped in, noticing his apprentice becoming quickly irritated. You know running towards someone at such a speed is likely to injure, or frighten, them. Assisting the Simmian rise from his place on the ground, Qui-Gon stood back as the creature shook off his aid. Waiting patiently for a reasonable response, he folded his arms into his robe and positioned himself in front of the man should he try to run off.

In the meantime, Obi-Wan noticed a slight sting on the back of his neck. Touching the area with his hand, he saw the faint tinge of blood sprinkle his fingers. Stepping up to the creature, he opened his palm. Give it to me.



Feigning innocence is not going to help you now.

Quickly catching on, Qui-Gon moved in on him as well, increasing the pressure to respond.

I don't know what you speak of. Shifty shoulders and wandering eyes told them otherwise.

Show us your hands, Obi-Wan ordered trying to maintain composure as the creature kneaded his pockets.

As you can see, you haven't many options, Qui-Gon intervened.

Reeking with an odd body odor, the creature finally took his hands out of his pockets. Close palmed, he waited for them to come towards them, then tossed the disk far off.

Ironically, he didn't run off back into the safety of the warehouse, but stood there momentarily waving his stringy body in a even paced nod.

That was not a wise move.

Seconds later, Obi-Wan held out his hand, and the disk came flying into it.
His shoulders slumped.

How was that done? What are you two? I thought you were human.

We are. Now you'll tell us everything you know about this disk.



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Dvorak, Mandalor
Trafalgar Estate
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Fianat stormed through the greystone mansion, elongating her strides as if to clear the span of the great hall in one giant sweep. Crossing the entrance way, a maid tagging along behind, she rhythmically tapped away at the lift button until the doors slowly dragged open. Not bothering to wait for the woman who dangled behind, she punched in the floor code. Pacing the small compartment, triangular hands bouncing off one another impatiently, Fianat brainstormed ways to address her father. It was critical she find him first, before anyone else, like Trafalgar, could taint her story.

Dashing into the hallway, she swept through the portrait lined walls to her father's private office. Pausing before the door, she took a deep breath and settled her stray strands of hair by tucking them behind her ears. Smoothing down her hiked up skirt, she wiggled in nervousness before knocking on the door.

It opened as if he'd expected her.

Leopold lounged in a wicker chair facing his desk, his back to his daughter. Behind the desk, his plush black leather chair, his corporate throne, remained empty and glossed in the dim light of a distant lamp. She sensed something was wrong immediately; it wasn't like him to recline in this room. A slipper dangled from his foot as he balanced it on his adjacent knee, and his brown paisley robe was snugly wrapped around his pot belly.

he sighed his daughter's name disconcertedly and picked up a sweating glass off the edge of his desk that left a ring of water on the waxed wood.

Maybe it was the way he said her name, or the unusual position in which he sat, but she knew then that he had arranged the entire plan with the Sith.

Oh father, what have you done? she exhaled the grievous words, afraid the consequences might spell the end.

I should have known you'd have found out as soon.

So you've sold the army we created?

I created, he clarified.

And what of the gene I created?! The quiet solitude that emanated from this office, burst in shards of betrayal and regret. You obviously sold that too. She looked away from him to the dark bookshelves and shadowy corners of the office. Her arms folded across her chest, her foot, tap, tap, tapping on the Persian rug, her chest constricting. I am sorry I was not born a man... to have pleased you better.

Ah, Fianat, you would have done the same if it were your son.

What are you talking about?


The wind was knocked out of him, and the room seemed reel about. She had no idea of the real matter- and he'd nearly blurted it out! The army was just the tip of the iceberg, but was he ready to reveal the rest? Laboriously reaching over to set his glass back on his desk, he had to grasp the table for regain his equilibrium.

she stepped forward, cautious of his movements, her tone mixed with concern and fury.

It's alright, he held up his free hand to catch his breath. After a few moments, he plunged back against the wicker receiving chair. Although he appeared old and terribly frail to her, she didn't treat him any differently.

Taking up her father's drink, she dumped it out and poured him another glass of Tzan. You should have told me.

She held out the glass rigidly, and looked down at him from the tip of her nose. Her eyes pierced him like barbed arrows.

Taking up the drink, he keenly waited for her to step away before he began. Returning the flask to the mini-bar, she turned her back on him only to pour herself a drink.

Yes, I sold the army to the Sith. The same man who sold us the cloning technology to begin with. There was no way to refuse.

But don't you see? He double played us. Returning to desk, she sat on the edge facing her father. That army is worth millions more now that the healing gene has been introduced.

Pstahh! I don't care about the money. You and the children will be cared for the rest of your lives, and I'll be gone soon. Curel is yours to do with as you please.

He had hoped she would have been more pleased with that final statement, but she merely snickered. So what's he going to do with the army?

Leopold considered telling her the truth then, but foresaw her raging jealousy when he'd have to tell her that her brother had just been promoted to virtual kingship. We will continue to hold them until he has use for them.

She gazed down on him, her eyes subtly narrowing, but if she didn't believe him, she made no mention of it then.

Before she could begin her psychoanalysis of this last statement, he changed the subject. So you isolated the healing gene?

We just got it, so they are working as we speak.

You are awfully confidant of its viability, he mused, knowing the other sample didn't take.

It won't be a problem. It was a short lived topic, for she suddenly seemed distracted and shifted her weight uneasily. Have you been in contact with Gary recently? Just by the tone in which she used her brother's pet name, Leopold could see the wheels of plot turning even as he denied the claim.

Hmm, that's interesting because I just heard some intriguing news from Relvaire.

Her father responded with a nasally guffaw. If he's your source of information these days, I might explore making new friends.

She grinned gruesomely, Yes, well, it's good to know somebody's taking an interest in our politics. Highlighting the word somebody automatically suggested that Trafalgar wasn't doing his job on Bonadan, which everyone knew was true, but didn't bother with mentioning. After the short silence, she broke right to the point. The Chancellor has offered Senatorial seats to the Corporate Sector if we agree to begin to a tradeover.

Recalling his last conversation with the Sith, he felt the blood escape his cheeks. This was what he was talking about, and now his daughter was trying to convince him to take it. Was this the face of temptation? Eve encouraging Adam to take the apple?

He looked back up to his daughter's beautifully austere face and saw it in a new light. When was the offer made?

Just today.

And Relvaire informed you?

She nodded. He wasn't asking the right questions. He hadn't even asked about how they would replace the labor, he just sat there brooding. Interrupting whatever came over him she pressed him to consider her words closely. Here's our chance, father. We should accept. Bonadan is bound to falter. After the Massacre, support throughout the galaxy has dwindled. We should get out while we can.

Leopold avoided his daughter's powerful gaze, focusing on an image somewhere out in the distance. Sunk back into black wicker, ankle resting comfortably on his knee, the father reached for his drink. It had grown lukewarm, but he swallowed it down in great gulps anyway.

She was growing impatient, he knew. In the soft light, he might have mistaken her for his wife. Hand on her hip, her weight balanced over her right leg, while her left foot tapped out a nervous rhythm. His wife had moved to Alderaan years ago, mercily. Now there was this one to contend with.

What's there to ponder? You can see the advantages clearly. We don't want to lose our investors. It's critical we are on the right team before the .... she fumbled with the next words, but he understood her concern.

But there was much he hadn't told her. There was her brother, which would infuriate her, but she would soon get over it when she received Tlaska in addition to Curel. But there was also that arrangement he had made when she was a little girl that would preserve their hegemony for a long, long time. And those bonds he could not endanger in any way.

Let me think on it a while. I'll get back to you by tomorrow.

She began a teenage rebuttal with a heavy flabbergasted huff. -But father, we must act now.

I said- his deep bellowing voice and harsh tone immediately caused her to withdraw. Calming himself, he continued. I will think on it some more before I give you my decision. There is something I need to check on first.

Her lips pressed into a firm line, but it was useless to pursue this further with him. He could be just as stubborn as she, and she would be on his case early tomorrow morning. She had faith that he would see the logic of her position, and therefore deferred any further comments.

Bending close to him, she grabbed his arm and kissed him on the cheek before stepping out the door.



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Walkar
The Vending Station- Offworld Warehouse
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The sound of cheap fossil fueled motors in the cavernous building drowned out any hope of communication between the two Jedi and the Simmian who closely resembled LeTauktch, and the smell of burning oil tightened their lungs as they moved further inward. Belittled by the massive floating boxes and a lack of inquiring life forms, they easily slipped into the bowels of the Gammorean shipyard without attracting attention. Although the huge warehouse kept assembly line laborers loading and unloading gear, they didn't find it in the least odd to see visitors enter through this area and gave them no more than an initial glance. Inconspicuously exploring the unmarked crates, that were all tightly sealed, revealed nothing outwardly, and the lack of security signified nothing more than routine operations.

Coming up to an office of sorts, which was really nothing more than a snack room enclosed by plexiglass sheeting, they singled out one the of type boars. Feet kicked up on a table in the break room, the boar didn't seem to notice their entrance, as he was entranced by the movement on the holonet which danced in the center of the room.

Leading them across the room, LeTauktch maneuvered them around the mess of chairs and passed a single boar. A slow, lazy look in their direction followed by the cock of an eyebrow told Qui-Gon this guy did not wish to be bothered, and the boar returned his gaze to the holonet. But when Qui-Gon accidentally brushed against the boar's chair, the boar swung his head back around and glared him up and down as if to say, What the hell do want?

Apologizing with a quick bow, Qui-Gon moved on, with a quick glance back of his shoulder for measure, but the boar appeared ambivalent to the disruption now that they were leaving.

Threading their way between spinning wheels and beating turbines, the three came upon a workman's passage that seemed to lead away from the noisy clambering of primitive combustion based engineering into the offices. As they passed through the door, a sound barrier all but disintegrated the horrible racket booming a few meters away. Following LeTauktch, they turned into a room stacked high with smaller unmarked shipping crates. Although he couldn't see anyone inside, his senses told him someone was behind the mess.

Boxes strewn carelessly in toppling piles made deceptive dead ends as they made they way to the back. The slipping of papers tipped them off to the presence of another, and as they weaved their way to the source, they happened upon the center of this mess. A desk, scattered with holocards and file disks appeared, behind who sat a snoozing boar. Qui-Gon cracked a smile as Obi-Wan circled behind the creature and nonchalantly topped over a teetering pile of stock cards, startling the worker awake. Taken off guard, he reached for what seemed hidden weapon, but stopped when LeTauktch called out his name.

His throaty voice protested in Mandalorian. LeTauktch, what the hell? You know I'm a busy man. Obi-Wan was thankful he'd remembered the translator and had taken the time to slip in into his ear before their departure.

LeTauktch wiggled and looked down bashfully. I just need a few more disks.
The boar looked the Jedi up and down, first at Qui-Gon, then at Obi-Wan. What do you want, humans?

We need to know about a certain item called a centrefuge.

I don't speak Basic. What do they want? Qui-Gon looked to LeTauktch for assistance.

More disks.

Once the boar realized this, he chuckled out loud. You know you're supposed to bring in human blood, not the whole human. LeTauktch smiled and kicked the leg of the desk nervously.

Qui-Gon fished out the disk-like device from his pocket and suspended it between his index finger and thumb.

The demeanor of the boar changed instaneously and Obi-Wan gave him space to push his chair back whilst he reached up for the tallest boxes. You two are the oddest bounty hunters I've ever seen, and I've seen many, but to turn in your own kind.... Seeing him fumble this way and that for the stepping stool, Qui-Gon, who was nearly a foot taller than the beast, fetched the box for him.

Even before he looked inside, Obi-Wan could hear the disks clank together as the weight of the box shifted. Waddling with sleepy legs, the boar hefted the box onto the disastrously messy desk, and asked how many they wanted.

Qui-Gon peered from the box to Obi-Wan not sure how to take their new found discovery. And while they both had many questions, the translator could not speak for them. Where were the disks being sent? Who ordered them? What were they being used for?

How many do you want? LeTauktch translated, speaking to the ground.

Qui-Gon held up ten fingers and the Gammorean began counting them out and stuffed them into a dark colored plastic bag.

Setting them on the edge of his desk, he expected them to leave and waved them off, but Qui-Gon had more questions.

Who collects the samples?

Well, what does he want? The heavy set boar looked to his Simmian counterpart for answers, but LeTauktch was reluctant to respond, even though the boar drilled him with expectant eyes. Look at me, slave, when I talk to you, the boar grunted harshly.

Obi-Wan found it odd that LeTauktch would let the Gammorean talk to him that way, seeing as he ten times more agile than the beefy boar. But, terror reflected in his face at the command, and LeTauktch wrenched his head upwards. They want to know where to take them when they are full.

Right here. You know that. Bring them right back here. He nodded in Qui-Gon's direction as he spoke the words and gestured to the floor.

Ask who he's contracted with.

They want to know the name of your buyer.

You know that's confidential. You know that, LeTauktch. What the hell? Why do they want to know anyway?

The boars eyes lengthened into small slits and he kept turning around to glance back at Obi-Wan.

This isn't funny, LeTauktch. What are you trying to pull on me? The boar rounded the side of the desk, jabbing his stubby finger into the Simmian's spongy skin. You know what I could do to you?

Coming within feet of Qui-Gon, the boar suddenly whipped around and fired from a hidden weapon towards Qui-Gon. Foreseeing the episode seconds before it happened, Qui-Gon skillfully dropped to a roll in the tight confines, missing the blaster fire by inches.

In the raucous, LeTauktch took off into the hallways, tripping over the array of boxes. Quick to respond, Obi-Wan leaped over the desk and bolted after him. If this guy knew as little as he claimed, he wouldn't be running so fast, Obi-Wan realized, increasing his efforts. LeTauktch's pliable limbs kept him one step ahead of Obi-Wan, as did his knowledge of the intricate passageways. But the Jedi was led by the Force, keeping him hot on the heels of his prey.

Rounding unfamiliar corners, the creature burst through an unmarked door into a booming generator room. Seconds later, Obi-Wan followed up and was immediately faced with a labyrinth of moving parts. The confines were tight and ill-lit and filled with a rhythmic patter and clink that echoed in the isolated machine room. Cautiously brandishing his lightsaber, Obi-Wan stealthily worked his way through the passages, surveying each niche as he passed. Through the heavy bolts and wide metal pieces, he picked up a flash of white as the space opened and closed again. Senses alert, he moved efficiently towards the color, but it was gone when the space reopened. Rounding the aisle of machine to the left, he spotted his prey.

*

Scantily scraping by a workman's bench, LeTauktch knicked the top of a tool box, the tools clattering against the steel webbed floor. Scampering into a corner, he hunched low and peered out to locate his pursuer. After a few minutes of nervous stillness and uncontrollable sweating, he risked a dash towards the exit.

*

Obi-Wan detected his catch in a shadowy corner two or three machines away. Inching forward with the grace of a feline predator, he stalked the mousey creature from behind the metal grinding of a compressor. To his surprise, the animal suddenly bolted from the safety of his corner, and the Jedi pounced forward. The floor clanked with each footfall announcing an attack, and in a moment of panic, Le LeTauktch sealed his fate. Squirming between a gauntlet of moving gears, the limber Simmian sucked in his breath and narrowly slipped between two pair of interlocking wheels- trapping him.



*****

Meanwhile, Qui-Gon had been able to disarm the boar, but not without a fight. Kicking the blaster out of his fingered hoof, the boar reached for a three bladed knife, or covat. Allowing Qui-Gon to get up, he beckoned him on. Working his way up slowly, the Jedi summoned the Force, and projected the boar across the room. Motionless in pile of centrefuge disks, Qui-Gon abandoned the creature and began exploring the room. Holodisks cluttered the desk, but he was unable to decipher what was written, as it was all documented in a foreign script. Nonetheless, he slipped a holopad into his pocket for good measure.

Working his way to the back of the room, he noticed the gentle hum of a machine, and wondered if more technical parts lay behind the wall. Checking the top boxes revealed unopened encasements of empty disks, but none were labeled in any way. The sheer number of boxes lead him to believe this was more than a simple operation, but it wasn't until he reached the back that he began to realize its extent.


*****

Obi-Wan came upon him slowly, extinguishing his weapon. I thought you said you had nothing to hide.

It's true. I know nothing. His eyes summed up his prison and the confines were so limited, he could scarcely wipe the sweat dripping into his eyes.

You attacked me with a centrefuge. Why?

15 ducats per sample.

Why me?

You looked the weaker of the two. Obi-Wan thought this new found boldness reflected the fact that LeTauktch suddenly realized Obi-Wan couldn't get in that far to harm him. The space was too narrow.

Heaving a sigh of frustration, he clarified. Why not the boars? Why not their blood?

Human blood makes the most profit.

Although Obi-Wan couldn't attack even if he wanted, he battered him with questions instead. I saw you attack another human at the marketplace, but someone else got the sample before you. Anisse Nobel.

LeTauktch stammered like a woodpecker. Okay, so that was me, but you were there, I didn't get the sample.

What do you know of the bounty hunter?

Growing bold, the nocturnal looking creature moved his face close to the steel machine work that separated them. That will cost you.

Pressing his lips together until they turned white, Obi-Wan slipped his lightsaber inbetween the beams, threatening to crush his adam's apple, that bobbed nervously as he swallowed.

He stepped back, but the weapon was long enough to move with him. In surrender, his trembling palms shook innocently. Anisse Nobel. Yes, bounty hunter. But I didn't know... I mean, that Healer was on everybody's hit list.

You knew her then?

Please don't hurt... the Simmian's trembling voice disintegrated into hyperventilating gasps. Then his eyes sprung wide with fear when Obi-Wan yanked back his blade then whipped around to hammer it in the steel bar above his head, insides roaring with anger. The Simmian slumped in fear, his eyes scanning above his head where the lightsaber pierced the machinework, but when he looked back to Obi-Wan, the Jedi had distinguished his lightsaber.

What about Healer Thaum? he began again, calmly.

I just did what they told me.

Who told you to do what? The Simmian looked about the confining space seeking a way out, but there there seemed to be little options.

The bounty hunter, she threatened me. Offered me freedom and said slavery was evil. She asked me to hold Thaum at the gate. I didn't know she was going to hurt Healer Thaum, he stuttered half whining, his face creasing into a terrified grin.

Obi-Wan commanded, lighting his saber again.

The Simmian stammered on, After he was shot, I called the guards. And after he was shot, I saw her swoop down and take something...

Take what?

He was crying now, and slouched against the vibrating metal. I don't know. I didn't see, he choked.

Interrupted by a clatter from above, the Simmian shouted out for help, and Obi-Wan heard a stampede of feet clanging on the upper walkways in their direction. With one last intense look at the Simmian, he abandoned his catch and fled to escape.



*****


Qui-Gon paused momentarily before the massive refrigeration unit. Thousands and thousands of disks were dumped into clear barrels. Hesitant to open the door and see the truth for himself, the Jedi master paused momentarily before opening the frosty shield and breaking open an encasing.

He wondered where one could possibly obtain such a pool of blood samples. If these samples had been retrieved only from the Vending Station, wouldn't the authorities have notified the public? Taking a handful, he shoved them into his other pocket, careful to keep them sealed.

Pressing on the inside of the walls of the cold unit, he soon realized the barrels were loaded from the back side.

Schoom, schoom, schoom. Qui-Gon ducked out of the cooling unit, narrowly missing the blaster fire and instaneously blocking the close range fire from the Gammorean. The sound of his approach must have been drowned out in the hum of the cooling unit's generator. With a long sweep of his weapon, he tore through the boar's recovered blaster then tackled him, his right shoulder plowing into the boar's massive gullet. The two landed in a tower of boxes, disks flying everywhere. Brandishing his covat, the boar slashed into Qui-Gon's arm, as he struggled to separate himself from the chaos. Rolling aside through the crates, Qui-Gon was able to hoist himself up and kick the knife out of his opponent's hand. Before the boar was able to fully recover, he shoved the boar back onto the crates, and darted out before security was alerted.