Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. That right belongs to George Lucas. It should be noted that some things are borrowed from Greg Bear and Jude Watson, both who write EU (Extended Universe) Star Wars books.

Writer's Block: Butterfly in Reverse by bite the hand that feeds. This Naruto fic is rated M and involves yaoi. This fic does a wonderful job of portraying the ninja life realistically. I really admire bit the hand that feeds for being able to do that. And honestly, some of the things she's able to think up… One must wonder if she is not a ninja herself… But this fic is really good, and I heartily suggest reading it.

Not too much happened in the last chapter… The chapter mostly just filled in what had happened during the last month, and introduced the newest player to the field. Omega was fun to write—I find him alarmingly similar to Palpatine. I guess I just enjoy writing about villains who hide their evil under masks of one nature or another.

Thank you for all the encouraging reviews. And Alley, no, I didn't know that Omega died. I've read most of the books in the Jedi Quest series except two, three, and ten (I think), so I haven't gotten to that yet. It's a good thing that my fic's AU, isn't it? ;) But thank you for pointing that out. Please, if you find facts that contradict the regular Star Wars universe, tell me. Some of it might be my intentional AU at work, but sometimes I just make stupid mistakes. Your reviews help me to make less of them, and for that I am eternally grateful to you guys. Read and enjoy.

Page Amount: 7

Word Count: 4,712

Written 8-8-05

Listening to: Coheed and Cambria "In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3"

Written by Ice Dragon3

Jedi Genocide

Chapter Nineteen: Decoders and Data-sticks

Click.

The door popped open slightly. Omega released a breath and said with relief, "I knew my source was reliable."

"You didn't look too convinced of their trustworthiness a few seconds ago," Obi-Wan retorted. While he was just as thankful as Omega that the codes were genuine, that didn't mean that he was going to act any more courteous to the power-hungry human.

Omega shrugged. "A bit of suspicion is healthy. It allows one to live a prosperous and, most importantly, long life." He propped the door open the rest of the way. A faint line of hallway light snaked into the shadowed room. It created a thick rectangular bar of dull yellow light that shot across the carpet and bent at a right angle to scale partway up the desk. "Now comes the fun part." He grinned, still holding the door open, and said politely, "After you."

Obi-Wan entered the room cautiously, not knowing if there was a reason why Omega offered for him to go first. Was there a secret trap that was touch activated? Or an alarm he could accidentally spring? But nothing happened; no alarms, no deathtraps. It was almost so simple as to make him feel on edge—but then again, he had to remind himself, Anakin kept most of his important work in his home building, and what was left here probably wasn't worth guarding. "It's clear."

"You know, I offered for you to come in first out of common courtesy. Not because I thought there was something wrong with this room and decided to put you up for the slaughter." Omega sauntered casually into the room, flicked on the overhead light, and headed straight towards the computer. "Just thought you'd like to know."

He turned on the computer and began typing in commands as soon as the machine warmed up—which, due to advance technology leading to the super-refinement of the integrated circuits in computers, took a matter of seconds. His eyes scanned file after file, and Obi-Wan could tell that he was becoming more and more frustrated by the single line that creased between his brows. But still he continued typing, searching.

The computer already occupied, Obi-Wan began to search the desk itself. He flipped through a couple drawers, barely giving them more than a cursory glance until a small datapad caught his attention, halfway hidden under a manila folder. He grabbed the wafer-thin data holder and turned it on. The password was surprising easy—Leia—and before no time he was shifting through its data. He found a calendar, which showed him where and when Anakin was going to be at any given date for the next couple months or so. In each little block that symbolized a day, times and places were written right by each other. Everything was simple, organized, and un-descriptive. Even though no other details were given, this alone could be enough to catch Anakin off guard… Having a starting place to build off of, the Jedi Order could dig around more and find out what Anakin was doing in those places.

This could be the lead they needed.

"Ooo…" Omega whistled, looking over Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan repressed a twitch; he hadn't sensed Omega's nearing presence until the man was practically breathing down his neck. Which was understandable; Omega was what the Jedi called a void, a being who could shield his or her force signature even though they couldn't voluntarily manipulate the Force. It was more as if they completely repelled it than used it to cloak themselves. Voids were like magnets, a negative end that couldn't click with the positive energies of the Force. It was hard to tell that Omega was there, except when visibly seen. Obi-Wan didn't like the feeling, as he was so attuned to the Force that he depended on it and his eyesight equally. He felt like he was half-blind when around Omega, and therefore at an enormous disadvantage.

"That could be of some use," Omega said, hands greedily reaching for it.

"I found it," Obi-Wan said, holding the datapad out of Omega's reach. "I believe I'm entitled to keep it."

"But I found nothing on the computer…you can't expect me to just agree to something like that when I have nothing myself. This expedition has to be profitable for both of us, if you want me to keep silent about your own little excursions."

Seeing no other choice, Obi-Wan reluctantly let Omega scan through the datapad. He said sardonically, "And here I thought we were 'companions in crime.' What thin ties to loyalty you have."

"The less strings you attach yourself to, the less likely you are to hang," Omega said absently as he flipped through the dates. "So you say that those strings hold you up, make you a better person—give you dignity, honor, trust, and friendship. So what?" Omega sneered, his voice scornful at the fools who believed such lies. His eyes were still flickering back and forth as he read the information on the calendar. "I'd rather have nothing holding me up at all and be at the rock bottom. There's no way to fall any lower then"—he chuckled morbidly, flipping the datapad closed—"and no way to get injured."

"One could say that you are the most hurt of them all," Obi-Wan said quietly, taking the offered datapad back. He slipped it into his pants pocket.

Omega snarled, "None of your Jedi philosophy shit. I don't need that. I live my life my way, and I don't give a damn what you think." The inner anger scuttled back behind the civil mask as Omega gained back his restraint, and he said pleasantly, "I got what I needed; you can keep it."

Obi-Wan nodded. "We should get out, then. The more time we spend here, the more likely we are to be noticed." He popped his head out of the door, looking both ways before slipping out quietly like a cat between two fence posts.

"Spoken wisely! I concur," Omega agreed cheerfully, exiting after he turned off the lights. He shut the door behind him, and its click resounded in the empty hallway. "Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you, and if you ever want to hook up again I can leave you my comlink num—"

"Obi-Wan? is that really you?" a joyful voice cut Omega off mid-sentence.

"How rude," Omega sniffed as he straightened his coat, glaring less than discreetly at the intruder. His blue durasteel eyes looked as hard as the metal their color emulated.

"Tyro? My dear friend, it's been far too long since the last time I saw you!" Obi-Wan cried out happily as he hugged his old friend. He hadn't seen Tyro Caladian in so long—more than six standard years at the least. The last that he had seen of Tyro, he was still a senate aide. While he didn't have much political power, he had been a great help to Obi-Wan in the past, obtaining information for him when he needed it. People tended to overlook Tyro because of his unimportant status, and that was their downfall. "How have you been?"

"The usual…same occupation…same old, stuffy senators to deal with. Several times I've wanted to quit, but I just can't bring myself to—I simply don't know where else I'd work. And then when I heard that you had gotten into the business yourself," Tyro paused to chuckled, "I knew if I hung around for long enough, we'd run into each other. After all, main advisor and senate aid are on about the same level of power. Except you might get more paperwork than me…and undeniable more pixel time…"

Obi-Wan grimaced. "I'm sick of it and I've only been at it for about a month. How have you lived with this for more than a decade? I would scream if I'd had to deal with senators for that long."

"Extreme willpower and determination. And several harmless voodoo dolls to stab occasionally." They laughed at that, now having a few more inside jokes to share because of their mutually hated jobs.

"Does it ever work?" Obi-Wan wondered.

"No, not really," Tyro admitted, grinning. "But it helps get rid of frustration in a—for the most part—nonviolent way. But I do like to secretly think that when senators complain of sore backs it's my doing. It's my only source of fun during a tedious, ten-hour day."

An idea clicked in Obi-Wan's head: Tyro had been successful in getting him information in the past, so maybe… "Tyro, I have a favor to ask…"

"What do you need?" Tyro asked, his face grave, sensing that what Obi-Wan was about to say was serious. "I'll help you however I can."

"I need information on the Empire."

Tyro snorted, rubbing a hand on his furry face. "There's plenty of that. If you have something specific in mind, you'll have to narrow down my search. What exactly is it that you're looking for?"

"Something big. Something that, if it got out, could end the Empire," Obi-Wan whispered conspiratorially, leaning closer to Tyro. There was no telling how many cameras were watching, and he wanted to give them as little as possible to work with. The less they recorded, the better. He only hoped that the digital recordings, if in fact there were any, weren't of a fine enough quality for lip-reading.

"Wait a second…this guy can get us something like that?" Omega asked, suddenly becoming interested. While before he'd been standing around, bored, now he leaned in and inserted himself into the conversation. They created a very clandestine group of three.

Tyro stared at Omega, distrust evident in his eyes. "Can we trust him? I know his kind."

Obi-Wan sighed. "No, but it's better to include him anyways. He might come in handy with unlocking files; he already broke through the code on Skywalker's door. And if we don't bring him along…our conversation might be leaked to the wrong people." Tyro nodded, although he showed the same reluctance that Obi-Wan felt. Omega was a wild card.

"Right you are," Omega said cheerfully. "Now that that's settled, how about you two let me in on your conversation, and stop talking about me liked I can't hear you when I can? You could at least try to be discreet about it…" Omega jockeyed until he was the focus point of the group. "Now, just what can you get us?"

Tyro stared at Omega, clearly disgruntled at being commanded by this rich, falsely friendly villain. He had to deal with too much of that during his work hours, and he wasn't going to willingly put up with it on his free time. He turned back to Obi-Wan, pointedly ignoring Omega. "The Empire's been busier than normal. Something's happening, and it's gotten all the key figures of the Empire very excited, whatever 'it' is. I think that they've been planning it a long time, and only now is their goal in sight."

"Can you find out what it is that they're planning?"

"I can try. You know how I've always been a supporter of the Republic, even when it was at its weakest—the Empire is just downright wrong, the political devil, and it needs to be stopped. I can't do much in my position, lest they find out that I've been meddling in affairs not belonging to me, but I have been keeping trackers on specific computers… They're the computers of important people, and I can tell exactly which files they access. All I have to do is a cross-reference of all those people, and see which file they've all been checking on the most. The hard part would be to actually open that record…I'm sure it's got the best security defenses possible; codes, firewalls, jammers…my computer could possibly freeze in mid-process of decoding everything… My tracking device isn't top rate, certainly nothing black-market quality, and it only knows which files leave and enter, or are opened, on the computer, not the actual content…"

Tyro mumbled something more, his eyes darting back and forth as he thought out everything in his head. Finally, he nodded decisively. "It'll take a while, but I think I can break into it."

"Maybe I could be of some assistance in that arena," Omega said with a small smile. "As our mutual friend said, I am good at breaking into locked files."

Tyro stared at him, saying skeptically, "Really…"

"Do you know the rare but sometimes occurring incident of a planet's entire treasury being stolen?" Omega asked.

Tyro's eyes widened. Omega smiled, and said no more.

"Let's get going," Omega said, all business. He started to walk away, before he turned his head back, saying, "Uh…where are we going?" He smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his black hair.

Obi-Wan knew that Omega's playful act was just that—an act. If Tyro's expression meant anything, then Tyro knew that also. Good…it wouldn't do for his friend to trust Omega. Tyro walked in the opposite direction of Omega. He said politely, "Please follow me. Try not to rush; we don't want to seem suspicious."

It was kind of difficult not to, though, when the main advisor (a former Jedi to boot), a close associate of the Emperor with a shady background, and an unknown senate aid were all conversing with each other. They were a conspicuous group, and would have been even in the middle of day with the halls jammed full of people rushing to and fro in a mad frenzy. That they were in an empty hallway made them just that much more of an eyesore to normality.

Soon they were in the smaller, less prestigious hallways of the Imperial Senate building. Boxes of reports needing to be filed away or incinerated cluttered the halls. Lighting was at a minimum—bulbs were spread out over wider distances and had lower watts. Doors didn't have nameplates on them, only numbers. Most of the bronze nameplates were tarnished, hanging precariously on the walls as if their nails were rock climbers who couldn't find secure footing on the steep slope. A few were proudly polished, and it could be seen that these were good individuals who cared about their work, but seeing these were like the rare sighting of a four-leaf clover.

"I've never been back here…" Omega said, looking all around him as he took in the sights, paltry as they were.

"Most senators and wealthy people don't visit these parts of the building," Tyro said frostily. "It is no surprise that you are like the rest."

"Now, that's a little harsh. I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Not of your own free will."

"Oh, but this is of my free will. I willingly came here. I ask you to willingly give me a chance." Omega gave Tyro a meaningful look.

"No," Tyro said instantly.

"Then at least work with me like a professional," Omega cajoled.

"Have a lot of those in your line of work, don't you?" Tyro sniffed disdainfully.

"Tyro…I don't like him either. But we have to work with him," Obi-Wan said tiredly. "Please try to be agreeable. I don't want to have to deal with an argument right now. We have more impending and important matters to deal with."

"Once again, Obi-Wan's wisdom rings the truth." Omega nodded his approval. "I'll refrain from saying any comments that could be taken as an insult if Tyro will agree to do the same. Although I might have to become mute, the way he takes everything."

Tyro shot him a look before proceeding to lead them on silently. They came to a numbered door, one of the rare polished ones; and it was at this one that Tyro stopped. 1221, it read. He stepped into his office, a small, cluttered space. Fit snuggly against all the boxes of papers was a desk with a computer on it. The Svivreni resituated some datasheets lying on the chairs so that the three of them could sit. He turned on his computer, waited several minutes for the sleepy machine to wake up, and started typing as soon as it was completely online. The lighting was just as dim in this room as without, and the computer's screen glowed eerily because of it, by far the strongest illumination in the room. It flickered many colors, blue, white, yellow, green, even red a few times, as Tyro let his system run, going over all the files that had been used recently by the computers his tracking instrument tapped into.

Finally, the computer's lights stopped flashing as it settled on a red screen, words written across it with obvious meaning: ACCESS DENIED.

"This is it," Tyro said with certainty. "All of them have been on this one more than once…and Darth Vader in particular has been here often. My computer wasn't able to crack open its defenses with its routine codebreaker, but at least it didn't break. None of the typical passwords worked, and running a random system of letters and numbers and symbols could take forever to get the right sequence…" Tyro bit his lip in frustration. "I'm worried that if we try too many random codes, someone will find out that I've tapped into their files and trace it back to this computer. Or we'll trigger some sort of virus to attack our computer… And either way, you can bet your boots that we'll be in a lot of trouble…"

Omega scooted his chair closer, cracking his knuckles. "This is where I prove my worth," he said, determination in his eyes as he scanned the file. "If you would step back…" Tyro pulled his chair away from the computer so that Omega could reach the keyboard more easily from his sitting position. "Thank you."

Before he could start, however, Obi-Wan exclaimed and pulled something out of his pocket. "Will this help?" He held up his decoder—the one Anakin had fortunately missed when he had gotten rid of the rest of Obi-Wan's 'unwanted' items. Obi-Wan had kept it with him ever since he'd started making these late-night rounds. He'd tried using it on Anakin's office door once (to no affect—but at least the alarms didn't go off then, so he was lucky in that aspect at least). He had sensed that it would come in handy, and that was why he kept it near him at all times. Perhaps that time was now.

"This would definitely make my job easier. I'd be able to do it otherwise, but this'll cut the time in half." Omega smiled at Obi-Wan, an excited glint in his eyes. "Now let's see what it is that they're so eager to hide."

Omega started to type on the keyboard. The screen flashed as fast as his speeding fingers, jumping from this to that screen at dizzying speeds. Omega typed in commands manually at a speed that blurred his fingers. He had to be thinking extremely fast for the screens to be whizzing past so rapidly. Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel impressed, despite the fact that Omega was a cold and ruthless criminal; here was a mastermind at work. This was the intelligence that had built up Omega's fortune of wealth—and allowed him to keep it.

The red screen once more returned to the fore, it's unchanged message spanning across the monitor. Omega typed in another command, and the red screen blinked out. The computer screen returned to black, and the room fell into near darkness. Only a single, small desk light kept the room's blackness from being absolute. Obi-Wan saw white-lights as his eyes tried desperately to adjust to the sudden darkness after so many brilliant, neon pixel colors.

Omega was smiling triumphantly, teeth stark against such a dark background, and he kept smiling even when Tyro growled out, "You just broke it!"

"It's not broken," Omega said confidentially. "You have a holoprojector hooked up to the computer, right?"—Tyro nodded—"Turn it on."

Although Tyro was extremely annoyed by the impolite order, he did so. A red sphere hovered in the air. "A moon?" Tyro asked, studying the rotating projectile. "It has a large crater on its upper hemisphere."

"Very observant," Omega said dryly, but in a way that one couldn't be exactly sure of how to respond to the insult. "But it's not exactly a moon. It's a battle station. And that crater is in fact an enormous laser. This is the Empire's latest weapon—160 kilometers in diameter, a superlaser with the firepower to blow up a planet, and enough weapons attached to its exterior and aircrafts stored in its hangers to arm a small planet—and the amount of people that can live on it can be safely compared to that. This is the ultimate weapon. Name is the Death Star. Welcome to a dictator's perfect dream."

"Is this even possible?" Obi-Wan asked, confounded by the idea. To have such an obscenely excessive amount of firepower and brutality packed into one overwhelmingly large, behemoth battle station…it seemed such a waste.

"It's more than just a possibility; construction is already under way. It's estimated to be completed in a few standard Coruscanti years; a decade at the worse, should unexpected complications arise." Omega stared at the enormous station for a moment, an unreadable look in his eyes. He pulled out two data-sticks from his pocket. He plugged both into the computer and typed in some codes. He then took them out and threw one at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, moving instinctively, caught it, even though he was unprepared and not focused on the flying object. Looking at the data-stick in his hands, he asked, "What is this for?"

"It's a copy of all their plans, updates, and correspondences among themselves; blueprints of the Death Star, progress reports of the actual building of it; statistics, estimations of power, stimulation test results. Namely, that data-stick holds in it everything about the Death Star that you could want to know—and then some. Think of this as my repayment to you, for letting me borrow your decoder." He tossed his own data-stick in his hand, making it twirl in the air before catching it expertly. "And I've got its twin right here."

Tyro said quietly, awed and fearful, "I can't believe they're building something like that…"

"I can," Obi-Wan said. That was the sad thing of it.

"Isn't that the truth." Omega got up from the chair. "I must be going now. But thank you for all your help, Tyro. I will not forget this; I owe you one. And I assure you…I always repay my debts. What is your full name?"

"Tyro Caladian," Tyro said proudly, not caring if it was foolish to hand over his full name to a criminal.

Omega nodded; it was obvious that he was committing the name to memory. He slipped out of the room as Obi-Wan began saying his goodbyes to Tyro. It was always hard for him to say goodbye to good friends.

"May the Force be with you, Tyro." Obi-Wan said with regret, "I shall miss you."

"We Svivreni do not say goodbye; it is considered bad luck. We say, the journey begins, so go." He raised his hands, his fingers spread apart in the Svivreni gesture of goodbye. Obi-Wan did the same with his hand, and Tyro pressed their palms together. It was a gesture used by the Svivreni to those closest to them. He said quietly in farewell, "The journey begins, so go."

And Obi-Wan did.

Omega was waiting outside, and his departing words to Obi-Wan were, "If you ever feel the need to get away, or want to work together again, here's my card. Keep it where no one will see." The last sentence was hissed with urgency as Omega shoved a card into Obi-Wan's jacket pocket. Obi-Wan felt the weight of his returned decoder also.

"I'll keep it hidden with my decoder and your data-stick—no one will find it," Obi-Wan assured Omega. Although he'd never use the card, he'd keep it…just in case. But hopefully the mission was nearly over now, and the card would no longer be useful. He would be glad of the day that he could toss it in the incinerator. Truly, when that day came, he would finally be done with this whole mess.

Omega relaxed. "Good. If your decoder hasn't been taken away from you yet, it's likely that you've got yourself a prime hiding spot." He chuckled. "I just don't want certain…people…to find out that we've had dealings together. They might not be so receptive of that idea; we could both be put in a lot of danger. I like my transactions to be secretive. Less trouble later on."

"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan intoned automatically in farewell.

Omega stared at him, a half-wistful, half-resentful expression in his durasteel blue eyes. "I wish." He left abruptly.

Obi-Wan tried to sneak into bed quietly, slipping the covers over him with barely a whisper of a sound. But still, he felt an arm slip over his side as Anakin drew him nearer, snuggling in close. He mumbled sleepily into Obi-Wan's neck, "You're back particularly late tonight."

"Why aren't you asleep?" Obi-Wan asked in a voice equally hushed. He didn't try to fight the hold.

"I couldn't fall asleep with you gone." Anakin kissed Obi-Wan's neck before resting his forehead against his hair, breathing in the scent. He mumbled into Obi-Wan's head, "I like knowing that you're right beside me when I go to sleep. It's comforting to me."

"I'm here now," Obi-Wan whispered back soothingly in a melodic voice, wanting Anakin to fall back asleep; that would mean less conversation, less questions. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Anakin's arm faintly strengthened its hold, drawing tighter around him like a slowly awakening boa constrictor, and his voice became a bit clearer. "What were you doing with Omega and…that's a signature I haven't felt in a while…not since my Padawan days…is it really Tyro's?"

Obi-Wan was surprised that Anakin knew. His brain panicked a little, and all sorts of worst-turn scenarios started popping up in his head against his command. He tried to say calmly, "Yes. But how did you know?" His breath hitched slightly, and he tried to level it out.

"I can sense residue of their force signatures on your body. I'm good at singling out different force signatures, and if I've met the person before I'm usually able to figure out to whom the signature belongs." Anakin yawned; the action caused his breath to mist over Obi-Wan's skin, making it tingle where the hot air hit. He asked again, more sharply, "What were you doing with them?"

"Omega I just ran into in the hall. I didn't really talk to him…you know I don't like that man… But Tyro was a pleasant surprise. We accidentally bumped into each other, and we talked for a while. We were catching up and lost track of time. That's why I'm home later than usual."

"…I see…" Anakin nuzzled his nose into Obi-Wan's hair. "Obi…you trust me, right?"

"Where did that come from?" Obi-Wan asked in an amused voice.

The arm tightened a little more. "But you trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, Ani, I trust you."

"With your life?"

"Yes."

"And can I trust you with my life?"

"Of course you can, Ani."

"Would you ever lie to me?"

Purposely side-stepping the question, Obi-Wan countered it by saying, "What's with all these questions?"

"Nothing," Anakin responded. Although his hold didn't loosen, his body relaxed against Obi-Wan's. After a few minutes of silence he confessed suddenly, "I love you so much that sometimes it hurts."

"Love shouldn't hurt," Obi-Wan said softly. "I love you, but not to the point of pain."

"I know." Anakin's body pressed up closely to Obi-Wan, as if to make them one person. His arm was a warm, living cage that Obi-Wan could not escape. Anakin's mind wrapped around him—he could feel the Force swirling around them—blocking them from the rest of the world. Like with a blanket, this feeling could invoke two very different sensations—or more to say, could have two very different purposes.

Warmth or suffocation.