++++++++++
Walkar
Clinic
++++++++++
As much as she wanted to escape Bonadan, it had been her home for six years, and the thought of leaving left a hollow imprint on her psyche. The troops barricaded themselves outside forming a metallic ring about the clinic, but it offered little comfort. Needless to say, Elia didn't like being left behind while Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan deserted them for some vague lead. The bounty hunter was long gone with her blood, most likely to be replicated and used in the cloning industry to enhance genetic supercreations. Unable to fathom the prospect of being cloned and spending her days as a slave, or worse yet, a scientific experiment, she distracted herself by packing up the few items she had accumulated here on Bonadan. Without the distractions, the task would have been easy. There wasn't much she wanted other than clothes, her journals, and a few other personal items. Li'sarrow instructed them to leave all that was there when they arrived, even though they weren't being replaced anytime soon. Nonetheless, Ruebyn promised all would be cleaned and returned to its rightful home.
A couple of months ago, she might have maintained a firm faith that the Republic would come to their aid, that somehow the people would see the injustice of slavery and band together to fight it, but this illusion had faded quickly when put to the test.
Her brooding was interrupted, though by a wooden crash just outside the back door, right next to her room. Dashing over the boxes of personal belongings, she found the guards had overstacked the shipping crates in the transport, and they had toppled in the process.
We've got to take this now. We can't fit anything else, one of the uniformed men said as two others struggled to pack them back in.
Alright, fine, Li'sarrow submitted. There's still plenty of you to keep this place secure.
By the time you get back, we'll be ready for another load, Ruebyn arched her back after hauling another load of boxes down the hall. What time did you want to have the service?
Up to this point, Elia had simply been watching, but here she interjected. What service?
How are you doing on your packing? M'Li'sarrow drilled the young woman without glancing up from her balancing act of smaller boxes.
I'm nearly ready. Take a look.
Placing the items in the back of the trailer, she allowed the soldier to slam it closed with an obtrusive clanking. Dusting off her hands, Li'sarrow peered into her healer's gutted cell. Nearly ready' might be a mild way to describe it.
Elia lowered her head and struggled for a humoring grin when Ruebyn broke the discomfort. We're holding the funeral rites for the victims of the Benzoic Massacre in a couple hours.
she asked, as Ruebyn followed their master down the hall.
When you are done packing your cell, work on the kitchen, Li'sarrow commanded, leaving Elia in her door frame.
*
They met the Simmians outside the Lepkaum gates, a safe distance from each other and the electrified gate. Beckoned by Li'sarrow's siren's song, an iridescent mass slowly emerged into the light of day from their cavelike dwelling. Like creatures of the deep sea, they glowed as if from an inner luminous source, a silent shared mourning for their peers. Still refused admittance, Li'sarrow gathered her Healers about the blackened wrought iron and continued the reverent chant. Hands empty, no book to guide her thoughts or words or religious iconography to lift her eyes, her song told the tale.
Nervous guards, grunting in agitation, barreled into the mystified crowd, but were merely bounced back and forth in the mass. WIth no intention of ceasing her lamentation, Li'sarrow stepped into the street and sang louder, drawing a crowd of Bondani.
Though familiar with the ritual, the healers eyes darted back and forth with caution, to the guards, to the Bondani, to the Simmians, whilst their master sang on in the street without reserve. Lining the gate, they folded their hands and whispered the words their master dared sing aloud.
Particularly distracted by the earlier incident, Elia flashbacked to an empty courtyard, Thaum's blood pooling over the bricks, LeTauktch speaking to her from the voice link. She looked over to Thaum, eyes closed, swaying with the hymn. An angelic chorus, they prayed in whatever way their knew for the souls of the lost. A deathly stillness of self-realization drained the color from her face as she remembered the holocast in confinement, a subtle form of torture from the inquisitor. Defenseless families were ripped apart by exploding flesh when the poison was released. The bodies dropped a pile a bones, and the frantic horror of imminent death. What could undo what has already played out?
Whipping around, the group changed before her eyes. They were in heaven, ghosts, transient beings, in white tunics. And like zombies, their eyes glazed over, they sang alongside Li'sarrow, their necks straining like some Carravaggio saint or Wrath-induced Jim. A faint bluish brushstroke bled up from their collars, victims of her inactivity. Falling from the cloudy vision back into her body, she knew her purpose, even it would be her fall to Darkness. She would kill M'ztka.
++++++++++
Walkar
Transmission to Bonadan
++++++++++
Thrilled with the news, the Governor shared the new information with his Senator, now in hiding on Myrtle, though he was less than receptive about the incident.
I don't know what's going on there, but I'd advise you to be discreet, Din hissed with frustration. The whole plan was too easy, too good to be true, it sounded like bait to him.
Ignoring his concern, M'ztka continued on nonchalantly. You wouldn't believe what they did today. Some religious rite or service. Nearly started another riot, he waved off the last few words.
Yes, I know, and the galaxy prayed with them.
This will be forgotten in a matter of months with our new plan. Confidant in all Trafalgar had described to him, M'ztka worked through the reasoning. Everything fits together. Tlaska and Mandalor can't exist without Bonadan influence. It is wise for them to forge a treaty now.
The Senate is not going to react as you think. You're a fool if you think Mandalor and Bonadan can defeat the whole of the Republic on this matter. Tensions are extremely high, M'ztka. Our investors are voting conservatively and our few allies have their reputation to consider.
That doesn't matter anymore. It will take years for the Senate to create a committee and debate over the restrictions of how the new militia will be run, and by that time, the transition to cloning will be in effect.
Do you really think the OASR will allow you to begin? Din's argument fell on deaf ears, as M'ztka was merely informing of his decision, not asking his thoughts.
That's just it, man. It has already begun.
The Senator paused to consider the ramifications, but M'ztka's rapacity for power made him a brick wall to common sense. He did have cunning though, and once the transition had been made, its not as if they could automatically deplete their work force. Clones would only be fit for slavery. What kind of life could they be expected to lead outside the caretaker? M'ztka's trump card was speed.
But this didn't explain why Leopold had chosen to stand by Bonadan's side when all other's were jumping ship.
What is Mandalor gaining from all this?
They want the first installments to be tested here.
Maybe they are testing the Senate's reaction.
Yes, of course they are. But that would be your job, wouldn't it?
I can't perform miracles. It's worse than you think. What used to be a feuding crowd has conjoined against us. The Chancellor is centralizing the governing forces and the OASR has a chapter on nearly every system now.
The governor grunted on this last comment.
What are you doing with them?
Tomorrow they tour our facilities and I'll make the deal.
Where are you sending them?
Someplace discreet.
++++++++++
Walkar, Bonadan
Clinic
++++++++++
How did you get out? Li'sarrow asked with concern, overseeing Ruebyn spray Qui-Gon's wound with antiseptic.
We met back where we left the speeder, he explained cringing ever so slightly from the sting of the medicine.
Master, perhaps we should show them the results? Obi-Wan did not waste time on such trivial technicalities.
Yes. I've already given Healer Thaum the centrefuge disks. I was wondering if someone might browse this though and see what you are able to decipher. I think its written in Mandalorian, but I can't be sure. Handing off a mini-holopad to Tetre, Qui-Gon sat back down and hoped for the best. This dilemma was burgeoning into a critical state, and he was plagued with hints of the dark side. Refocusing on the present, he watched the healer command the computer to interpret the files.
Meanwhile, Healer Elia strolled out of the kitchen with a tray of tea. As a staple in this household, it was one of the few things that had not been packed away. Pouring the hot water through a brimming sieve, she served her peers. The real question is why is there a market for human blood samples.
Genetic engineering? A biological weapon? Obi-Wan suggested, thanking her for the steaming brew.
But why at the Vending Station? Why not a doctor's office? Or some place where a mass amount of samples would be available on file? Someplace where you would have a knowledgeable background of what kind of samples you're getting, Elia continued.
Thanks, babe, Meerpa complimented the tea and added, Obviously, its not that valuable of a commodity if they are only paying that much per sample. How much was that Jedi Obi-Wan?
D15 ducats.
How does your arm feel? Kiana asked motherly, gingerly patting Qui-Gon's shoulder.
Its fine, thank you. Uninterrupted, the older Jedi pressed Tetre for answers. So there's nothing of value on that holopad?
I need a minute to download all the files before we know for certain, but it looks more like a scratch pad to me.
Meanwhile, Obi-Wan watched Thaum work in the small enclosed laboratory that opened to the right side of the common area. Treatment Room A connected with it on the other side, and Thaum temporarily ran in to look for more slides. There was really only enough room for two people, so Obi-Wan stayed out of the way as Meerpa extracted tiny droplets from the confiscated disks and smudged them onto slides. Thaum examined the samples under a microscope first, then commanded the computer to do a full blood work up. Yes, the computer says they are all human blood and they don't seem to have any major abnormalities, he shouted through the clear plexiglass sheeting.
Why on Bonadan in general? Qui-Gon thought aloud to himself, sipping his tea.
I can't imagine this market is isolated to Bonadan exclusively. The human population is relatively small, Li'sarrow noted from her corner on the couch.
It's got be the proximity to their base of operations, he answered. We'll need a list of all the bio-engineering corporations on this system, Qui-Gon ordered, Tetre already compiling a list even as he spoke the words.
We might also benefit from obtaining a list of all organizations belonging to the CSA, Obi-Wan added, not forgetting Qui-Gon's earlier concern about this private meeting between Kiltma and Chlak, and the mysterious Tlaska representative. The information might come in handy.
Why might you need that? Ruebyn asked from across the room.
Obi-Wan looked to his master to answer that question. We can cross-reference activity with the information. Obi-Wan hadn't thought of it that way, but it wasn't such a bad idea. He was glad nothing was mentioned of this strange meeting though, as they still needed to do some research before that prospect could even be validated.
At the same time, Obi-Wan noticed Elia step back into the kitchen and crossed the common area to address her privately.
Did you need more tea? she asked when she saw him in the doorway, wrapping up more cups from the day's packing.
Be careful. It was unusual for him to say exactly what he felt, and he immediately regretted the directness of this statement, but it was an instinctual reaction to his heart.
she feigned confusion.
Whatever it is you're planning on doing. the Living Force quaked in him, reverberating off her such that she had to look away. Changing the subject, he ran his fingers through his hair and got to the point. I didn't mention it to anyone else, but I think I saw LeTauktch again. He pressed a hand on the edge of the countertop and kicked his other fist on a hip, expecting a surprised reaction. He claimed he didn't know who I was talking about, but later admitted to being present at the Vending Station, and at Thaum's attack.
Her hand drifted to her chest and her eyes glazed over. denial bounced her head left and right. Simmians are loyal to the healers.
It was him, Elia. And he knows the bounty hunter, Anisse Nobel. He said she took something from the site after Thaum was shot. It could have been a blood sample.
There's no way they would have let him survive. She seemed to be adjusting to the idea that LeTauktch could have possibly betrayed her when the kettle on the stove began to whistle. Fumbling for a hot pad, she lifted the kettle from the heat and set it on the tile counter top.
She offered him freedom for his assistance.
He watched her fiddle with the tea tray, pouring the boiling water into a steeping kettle filled with another batch of tea. There's more. He also said there's a price for you, or your blood. He wasn't explicit.
The tea cup rattled against the saucer as she filled it. Moving closer to her for assurance, he clutched her elbow.
She has sensed something about to change, a life altering change, but didn't know how to approach it other than wait and be at the ready when it came knocking. I'm not afraid of whatever happens, she interjected boldly, lifting her chin high to match his penetrating gaze.
Very well, he knew it was no use fighting her. But its important you leave with Li'sarrow, he said, running his calloused palm down her arm. I know you don't want to leave them, but it's the only way you'll be safe.
I don't care about being safe, Obi-Wan, she snapped, setting down a brimming cup such that the boiling tea slopped across the countertop.
Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned his hip against the counter watching her scramble to clean up the tea. Would you stop just a moment and listen, please, he helped her dry up the mess, then took her by the shoulders and forced her to face him.
We're going to try to retrieve your blood, and Thaum's.
I appreciate it, but it's too late for that. If you want to help, help free the Simmians.
You of all people should know, it's not that easy.
WIth nothing else to comment, they merely stood quiet in the dim light of the kitchen. Hooking her hands along his forearms, she rubbed up his sleeves distractedly, worry creasing her brow.
He knew she wouldn't go with Li'sarrow, and worried about what the refusal might lead her to do. How far would she go?
In the other room, the intercom rang causing them to jump; Ruebyn answered as the room grew silent. But with little more than a single affirmation, she disconnected.
We've been requested in Aklina. Obi-Wan overheard Ruebyn announce to the party and shifted to the doorway, Elia poking her head behind him.
Another accident? Kiana eyes widened.
No. M'ztka wants to deal.
++++++++++
Aklina
Azurite Mine
++++++++++
As you can see, our work force is cared for by a higher standard of living than that of over 44% of Core World Systems, the droid sweetly incanted to the group of healers and diplomats leading them through the new apartments and housing quarters in Aklina. The holo videographers, spherical hover droids, panned across an indoor playground enclosed in plexiglass sheeting, although children were nowhere to be found.
I suppose its not hard to figure out why, Elia held back from commenting as the vidroids had a sensitive auditory system, but a sideways glance towards Obi-Wan let her know her sentiments were shared.
M'ztka, with coercion from Din, had set up the holovised broadcast with the hope that sympathies would be swayed in their direction if only the general populace understood more about their situation. Thus, in an unusual extension of goodwill, he invited the two Jedi, the healers detained for supposed treason, Elia and Kiana, and the two Republic representatives, Kiltma and Chlak to tour the site. Together the group journeyed into the new Aklina facility, anxious and suspicious.
Qui-Gon strolled alongside Kiltma, reserving his questions for a more appropriate time. Before the tour, the group had been specifically instructed not to interrupt the host droid and limit personal comment to after the recording. Now was not the time to aggravate the circumstances with misleading comments, the Jedi Master agreed to himself, satiated that the galaxy would soon be viewing the empty gesture and the Senate voting to abolish slavery.
Obi-Wan however, wondered how much trouble this elaborate staging had cost the greedy Governor. As they weaved their way through the technological labyrinth, its ritualistic facade reminisced of the poor Athenians sacrificial encounter with the Cretin Minotaur. Nevertheless, he sharpened his awareness and paid keen attention to the details the droids avoided.
From the resident quarters, they were lead outdoors to another section of the plant. A skywalk overlooked an ornate eighteenth century English garden, but the lack of souls in this enormous enclosure disturbed them; it was as if the place had been deserted, the landscape nothing more than an opulent faberge eggshell. Kiana wondered to herself when, if, or how the highly structured imported garden was ever used or shared with anyone other than the ruthless investors that supported sweat shops like these. They didn't deserve this kind of beauty when all their hands were capable of producing was, at best, degenerative.
Nonetheless, she couldn't help but to be entranced by the fragrant bird of paradise floating up to them on the gentle breezes. Unable to resist, she leaned over railing to take it all in. Lingering a moment as the others moved on, she noticed a blooming ivy latticed up the sky walk. In a color so intensely yellow-orange, the petals seemed to reach beyond the confines of its dimensions. Like the burning bush, its colors glimmered and refracted light in a myriad of angles. Its scent, intoxicating and overbearing, demanded homage. Slyly snaking towards the ivy, she plucked from the plant its thick stalk. Its sugary whiteness bled into a thickening pool at the tip which she immediately turned away from lest someone notice the missing piece. Secreting it in her pocket, she picked up her pace to catch up with the moving group.
Opening to a small art gallery of ancient blown glass artifacts the droid went on the explain the Simmian heritage honored in the exhibit. This unique teal color was invented by the Simmians using the green sand found deep in the hills that arose after the Great Earthquake. A sign of Simmian pride in their ability to persevere throughout tragedy, this fine artwork helped the Simmian race rebuild their economy...
Elia took the commentary with a grain of salt, well versed in Simmian ancestry. A wise move on M'ztka's part, however, as those viewing from afar would be unable to discern twisted deviations from the truth.
Beyond the fragile whiteness and false light of the studio spanned a long, deep hallway, stretching deep into the plant itself like a transcending river. Inlaid were magnetically encased glassware including vases, pitchers, and amphorae, each depicting a floral and fauna theme revealing a period of well being and rich harvest before the Bondani invasion.
Golden threads intertwined an inverted cone and sprouted off the top in a gentle curl off which hung a delicate pink crystal ball representing the mannahi that grew in abundance off limbs of yellow. The selection further inward became more abstract and used richer toned dyes that verged on opacity.
These pieces remember the earthquake...
Soft swirls were replaced with angular points and finely cut dimensional crystal. Elia stopped for a moment at one piece deliberately, interrupted by the reflection of the vidroid as it closed in behind her. An island of sharp crystallized green surrounded the jagged mountains that jutted from the corner of the island in a dark brown majesty.
Resembles skyscrapers, does it not? Qui-Gon intervened in a more obvious manner though no one outwardly responded. Obi-Wan smiled to himself that only his Master would feel comfortable slightly bending the rules of protocol to make a point.
At the conclusion of their trip, M'ztka greeted them each personally before a barrage of media. The lights starred their eyes as they attempted to make sense of their new surroundings. Inadvertently sheltering the group behind him and Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon politely demanded to know why the exposure was necessary.
Well, I've a proposal to make, Jedi. See how this suits your needs. M'ztka smiled at the holovids and turned away from the huddling visitors. Bonadan is willing to free all of its slaves.
The words echoed over the city's emergency intercom, and a rumble issued forth, buzzing with anticipation. Yes, all slaves are free, as long they agree to leave one thing on Bonadan. Their blood, he held up his finger and squinted his eyes. With one pint, we'll be able to rotate our workforce with generational clones...
He went onto to explain, but the galaxy was trapped in an universal gasp, until Qui-Gon interrupted the unbelievable spiel. Stepping forward, the Jedi held up his hands calmly. The Republic no doubt appreciates your offer, but we cannot accept. The Republic has not established the cloning laws-
Perhaps if you were as interested in the Simmians as you claim, they're own situation might sway you. This is my compromise. I give you three days to discuss this, and give me an answer.
Reaching out to his shoulder before he stepped down, Qui-Gon retained the governor to whisper fiercely in his ear. Be careful, Governor. I fear it is likely to be dangerous for you at this time.
Don't threaten me. If anyone needs protecting, you'll be needing it from the thousands of Simmians who will be cursing you and the healer's name for generations.
Releasing his grip, the Jedi allowed the Governor to slip back through the media, struck by the impending doom that was sure to arise from this hasty decree.
++++++++++
Coruscant
Senate Building
++++++++++
Now that the courts had deferred a ruling on the legality of slavery, a special convention of the Senate had been ordered to make a decision.
We all saw the holocast. The Governor is trying to win us over with petty illusions of humanity to distract us from the truth, Cato Antilles' logic could not be denied, even from slavery supporters. Compromised since the beginning of this ordeal, they now seemed resolved that change would come about either way. We need to vote now, and therefore I move we abolish slavery in the Republic, he continued, the Senate Building itself rumbling with anxiety. The moment had finally come.
Very well, Chancellor Vallorum began, Is there a second motion?
I second the motion, Senator Mon Mothma floated forward on her hover craft, smiling at Cato from across the expanse.
Please vote now. The Chancellor's ordination leveled the raucous to a hum as the Senators secured their votes. Time seemed limitless in the following microseconds; though most had already been instructed by higher powers on how they should vote, there were so many parties involved it was impossible to predict the outcome.
Indisposed to get her hopes up, Monmothma rationalized that it was very possible that the motion could fail. The most influential people in politics had money, and they made their money in the corporate world. Ethics did not matter to these people, and that is why this Governor M'ztka was humored for his ideas such as cloning slaves.
Mon Mothma merely sighed when the motion passed, but the congregation as a whole wailed incessantly in anger, in disbelief, and in relief.
Order! Order, the aide commanded over the chaos. The Chancellor has the floor.
The Chancellor stood, and little by little, they began to quiet. We will need a committee to draft a method of procedure and consequences.... his voice trailed off when he should have been concentrating on this new issue involving cloning. Senator Palpatine will head of a group of 15 volunteers. If you would like to be on the committee, please indicate so now.
Mon Mothma fidgeted with the viewscreen, watching the numbers of volunteers increase to over three hundred. She had to be on that committee, but getting chosen by these means seemed unlikely. There were too many slaving planets who rested their livelihood on sorting through the details, and Senator Palpatine had probably already hand picked his core team. Nonetheless, she put her number in the pot.
Senator Palpatine, we will meet again in one week to review your proposal. Palpatine bowed from his hover podium, but looked up when interrupted from across the great hall.
Forgive me, Chancellor, Mon Mothma began sternly, but M'ztka has threatened to begin cloning his current slaves in three days. We should be prepared to act before that time.
She's right, Cato supported from afar. Slavery or not, this type of cloning is illegal to to say the least. He cannot be allowed to proceed.
Vallorum agreed. Senator Palpatine, can you be prepared in two days?
It seems unlikely, but we will do what we can.
Very well. We meet again in two days. This meeting is adjourned.
++++++++++
Dvorak, Mandalor
Relvaire's Apartment
++++++++++
He wouldn't dare!?! Relvaire's words faded into sheer disbelief after viewing the holocast. He can't just do that, he gawked open handed at the viewscreen.
Not surprised, Fianat leaned over the back of the couch, close to Relvaire's ear. You're right. He can't give away what is not legally his, she mimicked in finality. she uncrossed her arms and stretched up, pointing a testy finger towards the ceiling as she made her way over to the bar. He can chose to throw away our business.
Her bare feet padded across the plush carpets, and she made no effort to tuck in her silk shirt.
What? You're going to pull all your business from Bonadan in three days? Relvaire looked at her in disbelief.
Knocking back her head for a quick shot of scotch, she sneered like a trapped animal. Obviously M'ztka doesn't care what the Corporate Sector thinks. He's going to do whatever he wants.
That's it, he roared decisively. We're taking the Chancellor's deal with or without your father's support, Relvaire stood and called out to his serving droid.
Wait a minute, she bantered nervously recalling her father's wrath when she'd approached him with the subject. You can't simply call up the Chancellor and say we agree. The CSA can't do this without Tlaska. We need their support.
Commanding the droid to contact all CSA members, he ignored Fianat's concerns and made plans for urgent meeting.
*
Within two short hours, all ten primary members of the CSA were sitting anxiously about Relvaire's apartment.
Here it is, Fianat began, immediately taking the lead. The Governor has officially cut all ties with us.
What about Trafalgar? He's the only one who really knows what's gone on around there.
Yes, where is he? Or is he with M'ztka in all this, and has just left the rest of us out to dry?
Did someone call them?
They'll be here, Fianat snapped. Getting back to the point of all this, she reminded the crew, what do we do with M'ztka?
Death hung on everyone's lips, but none were brave enough to say it, and so rerouted the line of questioning.
What is M'ztka anyway? Det thought aloud. He is Bonadan, and what does that mean to us if we pull our support of Bonadan?
For one, we'll have to relocate all of our business, and that means securing a new workforce.
So we go ahead and release all our labor?! We can't afford to do that, Relvaire indicated matter-of-factly.
If we relocated, we'd take the slaves with us.
There is no way we could do that without drawing incredible publicity, and once that damned OASR hears of it, it'll be just like Bonadan all over- no matter where we go.
What does the Mandalorian government propose?
They'll do whatever we tell them to. Don't let it concern you.
Alright then, but what about-
When Leopold and Trafalgar entered, the crowd barely offered them a contemptuous look and went on with the debate.
-What about the OASR? They won't back down until we've been made an example of, Det continued, eyes creasing into narrow slits as Trafalgar brushed passed him.
For that, Relvaire held up an empty glass, we might have a solution. A quick glance to Fianat signaled he was going to let the cat out of the bag, but a mean elongated glare at Trafalgar hinted at more malicious intentions.
Well, now that Trafalgar's here, I suppose we could ask him to explain what's been happening over there on Bonadan, but I wouldn't want to inconvenience him with a report. So I'll just fill you in on what we know.
Excuse me, my friend, Leopold intruded as he sat back into an empty spot on the sofa. I fear your source of information, he all but nodded in Fianat's direction, may have been tainted.
Fianat growled, low and heavy, accentuating the F in a way that verged on disrespect.
Overlooking the usual attitude, he was forced to clarify for they all demanded to know exactly what was meant by the statement. The Chancellor tried to convince us to take in criminal laborers, if you can believe that, he laughed it off for the ridiculous idea it was, but Fianat burned hot at the subtle rejection.
That's not all it was, she begged to explain.
And how would you know? her brother snarled irritated, as it were, by her very presence.
Her silver painted lips pressed together tightly, and violet eyes returned her brother's piercing gaze. It was obvious you couldn't be trusted, so I went out there myself. The newly pressed steel gray pantsuit, accentuated by stiletto heals, elongated her already lengthy frame, highlighting her inherent austerity while clunky white diamonds sparkled off her fisted hands, tucked firmly on her angular hips. We all know what a fine job you've been doing out there, but it was time for some real work to be done.
Quick to back Fianat, Relvaire seemed intent on degrading the youth in front of his colleagues. So what have you been doing all this time on Bonadan, other than siring a multitude of foreigners?
He snickered, almost entertained by the notion. That's kept me busy, but in my spare moments, I've made a few contacts.
Let's just cut to the chase, boy, his father interrupted with all seriousness. But let me be clear, what is said in this room, stays in this room. Leo's personal escorts surrounded the room suddenly rising out of the shadows as if they had never been there.
We all agree that something has to be done with M'ztka, but don't let that concern you anymore. The silence that followed this statement left the group with a sudden lack of air. They pulled at their expensive collars and uncrossed their legs, just to re-cross them. Leopold was careful to make eye contact with each of the members, and they didn't dare look away lest they seem defiant. All but Fianat, who folded her arms and turned her back on him, still sore from his rebuttal. She could have taken care of this herself, and it annoyed her that her father insisted on embarrassing her in front of this crowd.
A little hurt, Leopold consoled himself with the hope she would eventually come around, as always. It will be taken care of, he affirmed, but once he's out of the way, the real question becomes what will we do with our business.
Let M'ztka do what he wants with the slaves, Trafalgar wasted no time with words. When we collect the insurance policies, Bonadan's treasury will be empty. Tlaska will take care of the rest.
Quietly scoffing this idea, the investors merely swept it under the table. What will we do in the meantime? Shut down? We'll lose billions... Det's concern shone on all their faces.
Trust me. It's all been taken care of.
++++++++++
Senate Palpatine Offices
Coruscant
++++++++++
No, thank you, but if anything comes up, we will definitely keep you in mind, Palpatine's assistant slithered back to his place beside the Senator, whispering in his ear. Mon Mothma again. The older man raised his brows at the information, but did not visually divert his attention from the speaker.
In refusing to cooperate, Bonadan has signed its death warrant. Not a system in the galaxy can back them now, a former slaving supporter sighed.
We must act immediately, Polonius from Malastare intruded. We've warned them with military advancement for too long now, and our supposed resources, Kiltma and Chlak, have proved entirely incompetent- not to mention the trouble caused by those idiotic Jedi Healers. If we look the other way, we'll appear incapable fools.
Senator Palpatine inhaled a stealthy smile at Polonius' words. If there was one area of expertise Palpatine had plenty of time to develop, it was surely his ability to read people. He had hand picked his core team members, a seemingly varied bunch, some OASR supporters, and some slavers, but both sides were easily manipulated and feared him.
You are absolutely correct, another spoke up. I think what we've been saying for quite a while is that we need to take stronger measures. Reinstating an interstellar army might be our best bet.
Even if a few didn't agree, they all shook their heads in affirmation.
Yes, excellent idea, but where could we amass an army so quickly?
Come, come. Let us not trivialize where unnecessary, Palpatine nipped anxiety in the bud with his casual phrasing. I have a number of troops sufficient to relay our needs at this time, and I suspect many of you do as well, Palpatine grinned knowingly.
His pleasure however, was surprisingly interrupted by a brooding indivdual who was obviously not impressed with the Senator's dismissal of details. I was under the impression that Naboo was a peaceful planet. Eyes widened at the daring of the new senator from Tippor.
That we are, young sir, but we're not stupid. He made a mental note to share a word with this man, but deliberately made no effort to clarify where his troops might be coming from- for they were not Nubian. To distract from further inquiry, he continued. And I can call up a number of people right at this minute who would be willing to donate a number of legions to our cause, he added, diverting a weight of guilt upon their own selfish whims. I imagine great men such as yourselves should not have any trouble surrendering a portion of your independent armies, after all, we are in a time of great peace.
You're absolutely right. We must pull together our resources. Private militias are just not equipped to lead a campaign in such a magnitude, Bram of Plaek noted from across the table. A supporter of Senator Palpatine more than the OASR, Bram stressed the importance of unifying a militia to protect against threats like these in the future.
Bactid of Uragat agreed. Replacing slaves with clones is obviously an illegal act, and this is the only way to ensure it doesn't happen. Even those who had once been against enforcing the anti-slavery laws due to their own self interest, knew there was too much standing against them ethically to support Bonadan and therefore silenced their antagonism. Even Bonadan's representative, Din, was unable to defend his cause due to his absence.
Thus, Bactid continued unrefuted. Bram is right. We need an interstellar unified army. Membership in the Republic has extended too far into the galaxy for us to rely solely on the Jedi to preserve peace.
Obviously they haven't done much of job so far, a lone voice brooded from the back, referring to the holovised riot that took place at the clinic.
A hushed silence reeked from the chamber at the accusation implied against the Jedi Order, but eventually a consensus began with gentle nods and worked its way up to a somber agreement. They would reinstate the Army.
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Coruscant
Chancellor Palpatine's Private Offices
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Senator Mon Mothma, Palpatine sang from the other end of the visual link. I would like to take you up on your offer to support our cause.
Mon Mothma was serious taken aback for she had left numerous messages as to availability, all of which had been rather rudely blown off. Eager to help but wary of the strange call, she listened closely.
The conversation ended as he suspected. Although she didn't make any promises, she would do anything to abolish slavery, and playing this as his trump card, it didn't even matter what the request was, or how it would benefit him in the long run. In fact, she might end up doing all the work for him.
Lowering the comscreen, he turned back to his compatriots who busied themselves with the draft the Senate expected to receive tomorrow.
Who will be required to participate? They'll want to know how much its going to cost them. The advisor drilled Palpatine, but the answers were handled with ease.
Volunteer basis only, but we will suggest a number of 100 battalions from larger systems.
Palpatine felt he should be involved in drafting the proposal himself, since he would ultimately be in control of the newly forming militia. Thus, he had called in two of his most trusted advisors and began brainstorming what exactly they would be needing.
They are also going to want to know how you plan on handling the army once it gets there. You can't demolish the entire planet.
I could, but I won't. Not now, anyway. I have my plans. The evasive response remained unclassified, and they dared not press him, though his thoughts drifted off to Mandalor.
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Walkar, Bonadan
Clinic
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The second they entered the clinic, Qui-Gon was contacting the Jedi Council. What do you want us to do?
Mace Windu was direct. Learn who is working with Governor M'ztka. They cannot be allowed to proceed. Second, find who met with the Republic representatives. Perhaps we can still bargain with them.
Qui-Gon bowed from his seated position. We will do all we can. The link cut off foregoing the traditional closing statement.
Who has that kind of technology? Qui-Gon sprung out of the seat and paced the clinic determined to find the source of this preposterous idea. M'ztka wouldn't climb out on a limb like this if he wasn't sure there would be a net to catch him.
I can assume that's the reason they wanted Healer Thaum and Elia's blood, Ruebyn surmised, lifting her hands as if it were the most obvious solution that had evaded them.
Shaking off the prospect of being cloned and enslaved, Elia distracted herself with Kiana's new treasure. Where did you get that?
Evading eye contact she cheerily noted, From Aklina, as if she won it for some act of refined chivalry.
Let me see that, the older healer commanded, nearly snatching it out of her hands to examine it more closely. The scent touched something in her, but she couldn't quite place it.
Qui-Gon looked down at the healer as she twirled the plant in her hands. You are certain you're healing capabilities are genetic and not acquired? Qui-Gon asked Elia rubbing his chin wistfully.
Yes, unfortunately. She remembered him asking the same question just days ago and handed the plant back to Kiana.
Alright, where is this place? Obi-Wan hunched over Thaum and Tetre's shoulders as they scanned multiple links for Tlaska's corporate headquarters.
After they had left for Aklina, Tetre had cross-referenced the CSA list with the bio-engineering companies, narrowing their search to a handful of companies.
Deducting from the facts at hand, Qui-Gon confirmed the following information. We know with a fair amount of certainty that whomever commissioned this bounty hunter, Anisse Nobel, would have had to have been in the bio-egineering industry to make use of the blood. Correct? He looked to Ruebyn for a response, and she nodded. We also know that Thaum and Elia's blood are unique to others in that it contains a self-healing gene. Yesterday, he went on, Kiltma informed us that they had met with a representative of Tlaska that was interested in taking advantage of the Chancellor's proposal to take on convict labor in exchange for Senatorial seats, but she didn't give her name. What are the chances of that person being one and the same? Qui-Gon thought aloud.
I suppose it's worth a shot, Li'sarrow encouraged his train of thought, eager to resolve all they could before their departure in two days.
Where is this place again? Qui-Gon looked to Tetre who swiveled around to answer.
Dvorak, Mandalor.
Then that's it. Can you arrange a transport? Obi-Wan was driven and whipped about to gather up the last of their things.
In the meantime, batten down this place, Qui-Gon instructed examining a list of hierarchy within the Corporate Sector. There's likely to be more trouble and another media onslaught. We want you out of here as soon as possible, he looked to Li'sarrow to ensure this, for he knew the others were too invested in the Simmian's plight to surrender without a fight.
We'll return to the Temple for a short stay until recommissioned, Li'sarrow demanded compliance by her tone, but the healers seemed to mope at the prospect.
Very well. Don't wait for us, Qui-Gon attempted to assure them that they would tie up any loose ends.
But how do you know it's not an intergalactic company? Ruebyn stammered, fretting their departure. Maybe one of you should stay behind until we leave, she suggested, biting her nails.
Qui-Gon looked over to Obi-Wan who met his gaze at overhearing the comment. There was a moment of hesitation before Meerpa stood up and poignantly pointed out the ridiculousness of the idea. Li'sarrow's here. You go. We can handle it here. She took Ruebyn's hands into her own and pressed them together affectionately as if to say, don't worry.
