(Boise Supply Depot)
Ahsoka chewed on a nutrition bar as she shifted in her seat. As the truck rounded the top of the mountain, she could see the valley spread out below her. Beyond that was another line of mountains. She turned to the west and felt her gut churn. A blood-red sunset illuminated the valley with a quickly fading light. Smoke hung in the air, and even far behind the droid lines, ash and debris coated the ground.
It had been several days since she had left her master alone in the Cascades. She had been transferred south to take control of the Marine 1st division. They had withstood the worst of the droid attacks only barely. In exchange for beating back every droid advance, they had lost most of their clone support and had most of their command structure literally blown to pieces by the droids. As a result, she had been sent down to take control and stop the bleeding. In the end, they had been forced to pull back from the front lines to resupply with only the tattered remains of two rifle companies left to their name.
"This is Convoy 92 to Valley Control: We're passing the 'Chicken Coup'," announced the driver over the radio.
"Copy that, 92. Stay on Highway 95 until you get to the river crossing. You'll get further directions there," responded a tired voice.
Ahsoka suppressed a dejected sigh. All across the line of trucks and armored vehicles, she could sense glimmers of hope and even joy returning to the unit. However, her instincts told her differently. There would be no rest for the weary here.
(Cascade Mountains: Oregon)
No one flinched as shell after shell exploded all around. Deep in the trenches and bunkers, men and women hunkered down. Some polished their boots, some wrote out wills and letters, while others wiped the mud from their weapons and reloaded magazines. At the same time, soldiers kept watch for the inevitable droid attack. Outside the ground-shaking sound of the droid bombardment, the only sound to be heard was the occasional hiss of gas masks and far off cries for medics. The deadly blue haze was ignored by the men. Like space ships and clones, the blue shadow virus was simply accepted as a fact of life now.
The intense shelling had been constant for the last seven days. It was at that time that a frigate had descended from orbit. It had begun hammering the ridgeline defenses, while droid fighters and well-placed proton cannons provided more precise fire to parts of the line. Over time, alarm had turned to concern. As the droid attack failed to materialize and news from outside failed to find its way to the troops, a numbness fell over the ridge. With nothing to do and no say in their own survival, clones and regulars alike began to check out.
On the backside of the mountain range was a road junction. Before the invasion, it had been a popular resort town and last stop for people going into the mountains. Popular pass times included skiing and the local rodeo. However, that was all in the past. Half of the town had been reduced to ash, while the other half was made up of half-destroyed buildings, camouflaged tents, and equipment sheds. Inside one of these bombed-out structures, Anakin examined a holo map and listened as a General in brown and green fatigues explained their situation.
"Three days ago, they broke through here, and here," the General explained as he pointed to a couple of different points on the map.
One of the points was about 146 Kilometers north along the Columbia River while the second was 500 miles south on Donner Pass. Due to their deep maze-like canyons and narrow passages, those two points had represented the strongest points in the entire pacific defense line. Before that, the main droid advances had been far to the south and far to the north. Command had been well aware of the risk of encirclement for weeks, going on months. However, these droid advances never turned in and their advances slowly ground to a halt. As a result, Anakin's position was deemed defendable and they were ordered to stay put. Droids that were spent trying to take the Cascades and Sierra Nevada's were droids that couldn't be used to further advances elsewhere.
"They're finally pushing inland," Anakin observed.
The General let out a dejected sigh.
"No. It's worse. They're turning north and south respectively. The CIA and Marine Force Recon both have them intersecting here," the General added as he pointed to a spot a couple of hundred miles further east, "Current projections give about a week and a half before we're encircled."
Anakin's face hardened as he mentally recalled what they had for forces. This was the information they needed five days ago at least.
"We have to fall back. If we can link up with the other units, we can establish a new line," Anakin declared.
"We can't. Most of our vehicles have been destroyed, and we don't have the fuel to get the remaining ones back behind the droid lines. Our men would be marching over a hundred miles across the open desert with droids on all sides and a frigate shooting at them from above. On top of that, we have orders to defend this section at all costs," the General protested.
Anticipating this, Anakin followed up, "We were told that a long time ago, and we won't win a war of attrition against the droids. Ahsoka should be at the Boise supply depot with the Marine 1st Division. They should have enough men to meet us in the middle. We can link up and establish a new line."
"What's left of the Marine 1st division arrived last night," the General confirmed before adding, "I saw the figures. There's hardly anything left of their unit. On top of that, they already have different orders."
For the next two hours the debate drug on. Neither one liked the idea of dying on a strategically irrelevant mountain. However, the General wasn't willing to sign off on the long march back without a solid plan.
(Coruscant military complex)
"...With the death of General Grievous, this strategic committee cannot justify sending a relief force."
The words of the chairman echoed through Kad's brain. They were cold and emotionless. The sentence had come down like a hammer. In a vote of nine to two, the committee had voted against further military action. It was a decisive move that ensured no other hearing or paths of appeal. Nine senators, most from recently liberated or currently besieged planets had condemned Earth to death.
"It would almost be worth offering this contract for free," Isk-ka muttered.
Kad nodded. The thought had crossed his mind. However, he would need to raise an army, and armies required funding.
"Almost," he agreed.
"Wait here," the clone ordered as they came up to a sealed door.
Flanking the heavy blast doors were two clone troopers in full combat gear and DC-17 carbines.
The officer opened his wrist comm and reported their presence. There was a moment of silence followed by orders to bring the pair in. One of the guards punched in a code and the doors hissed open. They were deposited into a room with battleship grey walls and navy-blue furniture. Off to the right was a large wooden conference table. There the representatives sat, with Senator Amidala at the head.
"She could be useful," Isk-ka silently hissed.
Cad nodded in agreement as he visually appraised his audience. They were tired and broken. Behind their stone faces, he could see the faintest signs of the pain they felt. Sparkling eyes and the subtlest of makeup streaks gave testament to the silent tears shed after the hearing. Each person sat forward in their chair. However, there was a downward pull on each person's features that displayed the current mood. Even the ridged guards held an air of dejection. As they turned to the visitors, looks of hurt and dejection were replaced with white-hot rage. The guards stiffened while their fingers quietly drifted closer to the trigger guards on their weapons. Kad took a calming breath as he stepped forward.
Mandalorians killed their people... You're Mandalorian. They probably don't know enough to separate Death Watch members from the rest of the Mandalorian people.
"How can we help you?" asked Senator Amidala.
Her voice was calm and professional, but Kad's experienced ears caught the anger in her voice.
"I've come with an offer," he began slowly.
Looks of suspicion, anger, and confusion crossed the room. The unspoken conversation was quick and decisive, but not without decent.
"Have a seat," ordered one of the diplomats.
Kad recognized her as the Russian ambassador from the senate hearing. However, now all emotion was flushed from her heavily accented voice. She was obviously a veteran of political intrigue. He found a seat at the table and began without preamble.
"There was a time where my people were gods. We tore across the stars in glorious conquest and established a prosperous empire that benefitted Mandalorians and non-Mandalorians alike. My people were also fools. They never fully appreciated how big and how dangerous the galaxy was. In the end, this cost them their empire, their status, and all respect that they had been owed. Some of us understood our mistakes and took steps to prevent repeating them. Others… Well, others murdered your people because a shadowy figure offered to donate large sums of money to their flawed cause as compensation," Kad began.
"What does any of this have to do with our planet?" Ambassador Coleman demanded.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she spoke. Even as she asked her question, she was already deducing the answer.
"Our people need a cause to rally around. They need to see the potential of a united Mandalore," Iska declared, "What better cause than the liberation of your planet?"
"And what happens after 'liberation'?" Galina asked with an arched eyebrow.
She had been in Kad's position not-too-long ago. She had convinced a couple of countries unknowingly surrender their independence in exchange for "liberation".
"Presuming that the operation goes as planned, Mandalore will turn inward to address our own demons. Offers of an alliance will be made. However, the choice will be yours. Your planet has little to no strategic value for the Republic or Mandalore outside of this campaign. Should you choose to surrender your independence to a higher power it will be of your own volition," Kad explained.
Galina accepted the answer and typed something into a datapad.
"If there is no strategic value in the planet, then what is the cost for this liberation?" Senator Amidala quizzed.
"Military hardware. Your money won't spend on any other planet. So, we are simply asking for payment in the form of weapons, vehicles, and the proper resources to run them," Iska answered.
Her answer was met with silence. The offer simply hung in the air with no one rising to address it. Finally, Senator Amidala spoke up.
"I'm sure the ambassadors need some time to consider this offer," the Senator declared with a hard glance back toward the Earth representatives, "An offer like this should not be taking lightly."
"Put the offer into writing with specific terms and language. Return with it tomorrow," Ambassador Galina ordered.
"Of course," Kad agreed as he rose to leave, "Remember, time is not a luxury your people have."
(Three Gorges Dam: Southern China)
Captain Wei pulled his arms tighter around his body as an icy rain began to fall. The darkness grew more suffocating by the moment. Every instinct in his body told him to get his people moving. However, this was no ordinary mission. He was waiting for the signal that all other units were ready to move.
Before the war, the Three Gorges Dam had been the pride of mainland China. At over two thousand meters long and almost two hundred meters tall, the dam was truly a remarkable sight. It had also produced most of the electricity for the surrounding region. Even now, in the dead of a war-torn night her lights casted a warm glow over the surrounding area. Cranes reached to the sky, while roads lined the river below.
A voice crackled in Wei's ear and he turned to the officer next to him.
"We're moving out," he declared.
The man gave a silent acknowledgment and passed on the message. With a silence born from years of experience, the men rose in one fluid motion. Not a step was wasted as they picked their way down the mountainside. The mountain proved just as hard to descend as it had been to climb. The mud was slimy and mixed with the undergrowth to make the grade slicker than most icy surfaces. The dense forest gave little room for maneuverability, while the threat of lurking droids kept everyone from devoting their entire focus to the decent.
As they drew closer to the dam, Wei and his men came upon a narrow path. It wound its way down the mountain at a much gentler angle. According to Wei's map it would also put them much closer to the target. Of course, this also meant that the droids also knew about it. He tightened his jaw. They would go the long way around. He had all night and intended to use every minute of it if he had to.
For the next hour, they hiked on with rain soaking their clothes and droids patrolling the woods around them. Finally, he froze at a cliff edge. To his left was a narrow path down to the road below. Beyond that was the dam complex. He produced a set of night vision binoculars and scanned the area. Every open surface was filled with droids, vehicles, and supply crates. Every possible road and path in was blocked by commando droids and barricades—mostly repurposed concrete barriers. STAPs buzzed all around, while squads of B1s and B2s patrolled the grounds themselves.
The Captain clicked on his radio and hissed, "We're in position. Ready to engage."
His English was broken and his words tense. However, the message was clear.
"Copy that," the clone responded crisply, "We're moving on the northern target."
The Captain turned to his men. Once again, they arose, and the team of twenty-one descended on the nearest checkpoint. Their foe was skilled one. However, they were not skilled enough. There was duo of muffled coughs as a sniper took out two droids manning turrets. The rest fell in a hail of silenced gunfire. Their broken metal bodies littered the roadway in a scene that almost convinced Wei that they could win this war.
He snapped out of his thoughts as his troops began vaulting the gate. The clock was ticking now. Recon and communication intercepts had revealed that these droids sent a message back to the command center every hour. With one having just been sent, they had one hour to secure everything that they could and rig the staging area before the entire world came crashing down on them.
"Team one. Take the ships. Team two, secure the supplies. Team three, begin setting detonators," he hissed.
Without a word, they separated into three groups. One took off for the fence line while the other two slipped from shadow to shadow. For the next several minutes, the three teams silently crisscrossed the space as they worked to carry out their mission. Any droids that got in the way were either avoided or silently made to disappear.
Captain Wei ducked rifle-first from cover to cover. The action of crossing seven hundred meters of ground was made slow and painful by his attempts to avoid the droid guards. The less he could kill, the better it would be for this mission.
As he slipped from a concrete barrier to the cover of a powered down tank, he paused. His ears were tuned to hear the faintest sounds of alarm. Hearing nothing, he looked through his sights. A brief examination revealed what he was looking for. Beyond the row of tanks, his men were hiding behind was a group of twelve droids. Their patterns were predictable. However, the ground was wide open, and their fields of view constantly overlapped. On top of this, the shuttles they wanted to split the guards in such a way that his men couldn't hit every droid from their current position. There was no way to directly engage the group without being immediately shot to pieces or raising alarms.
"Chang and Xi go to the crane," the Captain ordered as he pointed to the towering structure behind the ships they wanted, "Set charges on the support structure and wait for my signal to attack."
Without a word, the two took off to carry out their orders, with trust that their Captain knew what he was doing.
"You two, circle around and take up positions around their fighters. Set charges and wait for my signal to attack," he ordered to the men directly behind him.
Like the other two, they silently accepted their orders and disappeared into the night. Seconds drug on into eternity as Captain Wei waited for his men to get set. Finally, each pair reported that they were ready.
"Attack! Attack now!" he hissed.
As one, everyone rose from their cover. Rifles coughed as their projectiles cut through air and droids alike. Some droids lost their heads, while others had their chests ripped open and internal circuitry shredded by white-hot lead. Their bodies hit the concrete, and everyone descended on the ships. Their time was limited. An hour had just been reduced to just a couple minutes.
"Ships secure. All teams fall in," Captain Wei ordered.
On cue, the ground rocked. Cascades of fire and smoke shot high into the sky, as superheated debris struck out in every direction. The shockwaves sent everyone stumbling, while the supply depot was bathed in a blinding red and orange light. Through the chaos, one could make out the rumble of the northern group detonating their own charges on the opposite side of the dam. Captain Wei began shouting orders over the sound of his own ringing ears.
"Get the ships ready to fly. Cut the tracking beacon. Team 2, move the crates into position."
His orders were crisp and without details. Every man knew his role and position. The series of explosions would leave the droids disorientated and confused. If they acted fast, they could be gone with their supplies before the droids ever realized what happened. However, that window was growing smaller by the second.
The soldiers split up and went about their tasks. Team one split up and disappeared into the nearest two shuttles. Team 2 was the first to appear out of the fire and ash. They circled around the ships and began shooting down any surviving droids that got too close. Thirty seconds later, Team 3 also appeared from behind a wall of burning tanks and Magna-Tri droids. The squad was guiding a set of hover freight dollies. Each one was stacked high with ammunition and weapon crates. After an agonizing several seconds, the dollies were guided onto the ships. Once he was satisfied that the weapons were secure, Captain Wei opened the main operation channel on his radio.
"South target is secure. All teams are evacuating," he reported.
"Very good," answered a voice in Chinese.
As he spoke, everyone but a pair of designated pilots hurried away from the shuttles. With the weapons, there simply wasn't enough room for his men. They would have to take a long way home. Yet, neither Captain Wei or his troops complained about the arrangement. Those weapons in the right, capable hands were more than anything or anyone left on this godforsaken planet.
(Coruscant: Senate Offices)
Senator Organa listened as Padme described the meeting she had had a few hours prior. The more he listened, the more he found himself conflicted. On one hand, they had just been given an offer that would buy them critical time that they currently didn't have. However, it came at the price of having two very volatile political situations potentially blend and explode into a crisis that the Republic could scarcely afford right now.
"Kad Ordo is the closest to a moderate that Mandalore has. He may be the key to resolving our problems with that sector," Organa volunteered.
"We don't need moderate, Bail. You know this as well as I do. What we need is a person who can act as a counterbalance to their most extreme and most criminal elements," Senator Amidala countered.
The other Senator was expecting this argument and responded immediately.
"The last time we attempted to support a ruler of that caliber, she was murdered by a criminal faction. Since then, the planet had devolved into open war between different clans," Organa answered with a sigh, "That planet is a political, strategic, and humanitarian detonator. What we really need is someone who can bring all sides back to the discussion table."
Padme winced at the memory of the Duchess. Even through the sanitized lenses of official reports, her death had been cruel, senseless, and certainly not what the woman had deserved. Pushing this memory to the side, the Senator shifted the topic.
"What about Earth? I've seen the way that these people handle their politics. It is written all over their history that if we do not provide substantial support for the liberation of their planet, they will shut us out of all reconstruction related topics. Mandalore will have a long term economic and strategic ally and the Republic will be lucky to get whatever scraps remain," Senator Amidala warned.
Senator Organa's leaned forward. His thoughtful frown gave way to worry lines and a scowl.
"Surely, they will remember that we were the ones to first send help… that it was our people first fought for them. It not, that may be a fate we have to accept," his voice grew severe as he added, "More immediately, I question Kad's ability to do the job that he is offering. It is one thing to gather a few hundred mercenaries as muscle for a trade dispute. It is another to put together an entire invasion force. I'm willing to stay out of his way for political reasons, but I do fear that he has just offered his services for a suicide mission."
Padme scooped up her glass off the desk.
"I told the delegation as much, and Kad Ordo was at the hearing. He should know what he is getting into," Senator Amidala agreed as she took a sip.
"Let us hope he does not make things worse," Senator Organa said.
Agent Garner looked up from what he was reading as the engines on the republic transport suddenly changed pitch. Their muffled roar gave way to a low whine as the ship drew to a hover above the landing pad. He collected his bag off the floor and marched to the back hatch of the shuttle. Back at the military complex, the Representatives were deep in discussion about what to do about this Mandalorian offer of assistance.
Garner checked his watch. Kad was due to the complex in a couple of hours. They had until then to determine if they would even hear the man's written offer. As the two debated the matter, the remaining agents were combing through a mountain of compiled data about the republic's current political status. Like Agent Garner, they suspected that someone was manipulating both sides of this war from deep within the Republic ranks.
He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes as the ramp lowered. He had spent the night pulling together all of the information he could about the Mandalorians for this discussion. It was a massive pile of reports, numbers, and analysis that took hours to put together and offered no conclusive answers.
Waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp was Master Plo Koon. The man looked about as tired as Garner felt.
"How is your leg," the Jedi asked as the agent reached the bottom.
"Fine," Garner answered crisply.
He never missed a beat as he sidestepped the Jedi. Garner was not here for Master Plo Koon. He was here for a man tucked away deep within the Coruscant maximum-security lockup. The Jedi would not allow himself to be shaken that easily, and soon fell into step next to the agent. Waiting for them at the security checkpoint was Commander Fox.
"Gentlemen. I assume you're here for our latest guest," he determined.
Before Either Agent Garner or Master Plo Koon could answer, the commander was already cueing up Hudu Shiv's information.
"Shiv is in the isolation wing. We'll have to take you to him. After the other night, I'm sure you understand why we won't move him," Commander Fox announced as a security box snapped open from the wall, "Please leave all weapons and communicators here."
The two visitors wordlessly produced all items that fit the requirements and placed them into the security box. The lid snapped shut, and the box disappeared back into the wall. The ray shield in front of the two disappeared, and a pair of clones waved them through. The group marched down the halls in silence.
Next to the agent, Master Plo Koon could feel the white-hot rage boiling beneath the agent's cold exterior. Had he been a jedi, the Council member would have forbidden him to come along. However, the man was not a Jedi and had every right to aid in the questioning of Shiv. He would simply have to ensure that the agent did not take the questioning too far.
"Remember, Shiv may not have the answers that you want. Even if he does, Mandalorians are not known for breaking under interrogation," the Jedi advised him.
Agent Garner grunted in annoyance as he produced a datapad. It had taken some negotiating with Commander Fox, but he had been allowed to bring one datapad inside with him as long as he could prove that it had no capabilities beyond document storage.
"There is more than one way to skin a cat," the Agent muttered bitterly.
Whether the Jedi liked it or not, he had no intention of leaving without answers. Master Plo Koon had determined this before the Agent had touched down outside the detention center. They were soon guided into a room similar to that which had held Dr. Vindi. Sitting at the table, with durasteel binders holding him to the table, was Hudu Shiv. His body armor had been replaced with an orange prison jumpsuit, while his matted hair hung lazily to one side. His lips parted as the Mandalorian stifled a sneer.
Agent Garner and Master Plo Koon each found seats on the other end of the table. Each face was a wiped of emotion, and silence hung in the air as each person sized up the other.
"Hudu Shiv. 37 years old. You're a known member of Death Watch, wanted on 49 systems including the planets of Concord Dawn and Mandalore," Master Plo Koon finally began.
His voice was cold and flat. There was no emotion or hesitation.
"49 systems… that should make you something of a 'professional badass', shouldn't it?" Agent Garner asked with feigned curiosity.
"Some would say that," Shiv answered with a shrug.
It didn't take more than a second for the Jedi to figure out where Agent Garner was going.
"Then, what went wrong?" Plo Koon quizzed.
The Mandalorian's face hardened into a look of professional indignation. Agent Garner's lips twitched upward. They had hit a nerve that could be exploited. However, it was going to take trial and error.
"I think you had bad intelligence," Agent Garner declared, "That is the only way for an airtight plan to go that wrong that fast."
"I think it's funny that you assume the mission went wrong," Shiv answered with a bitter laugh.
Across the table, Hudu Shiv's rage grew. He was angry at this rat that had the audacity to survive the attack. He was angry at his men for failing, and he was enraged at his employer for sending him into a deathtrap. This man, whoever he was, was correct. The mission had gone horribly wrong. He scratched his beard, set his jaw, and wiped the emotions from his face. Right now, he simply had to make it through this interrogation. Retribution would come later.
"Eight people survived the attack, and all of your men are dead. On top of that, you have brought unnecessary attention to both yourself and your cause," Master Plo Koon explained.
Of course, Shiv's name had never been released for security reasons. However, the prisoner didn't need to know that. Shiv didn't answer or so much as tilt his head. Agent Garner's hand twitched with anticipation. Shiv had been hiding behind a mask of arrogance. He had been playing into their questions with the hope of talking them into a hopelessly confusing circle. The fact that he had fallen silent, was proof that the Jedi had just sliced clean through that web.
"Now, we have competing ideas about what went wrong. The Jedi think there was a traitor. I, personally, think your employer set you up," Agent Garner added casually.
As he spoke, he leaned back in his seat and arched an eyebrow as though he was discussing the latest gossip a friend.
"An unidentified Mandalorian contacted the Coruscant guard seconds before the attack. As the situation progressed, this Mandalorian continued to feed information to the clones," Master Plo Koon stated.
The Agent inwardly smiled as the Jedi Master cut in. This Jedi seemed to know a thing or two about getting information from people. Perhaps there were some competent ones out there, after all. Across the table, Hudu Shiv kept his stoic face. However, he made mental notes of every detail that the duo gave away. Once he was out of here, someone was going to be paying for this operation in more than just credits.
"I don't think that it's that simple. You Deathwatch types don't turn on each other so easily," Agent Garner argued.
"You know nothing of our cause," Shiv barked, "You know nothing of our struggles or our dedication."
The Mandalorian's temper threatened to outweigh his patience, as Agent Garner continued to dig. Shiv may have been a hired gun in this operation. However, he was using these activities to fund political violence. This was both a sensitive topic for Shiv and a familiar path for Agent Garner. As such, he leaned hard on it.
On the other side, Agent Garner's temper reached its boiling point. Years of built-up anger and resentment fueled his increasingly agitated questions. His demeanor was calm and collected, but a skilled set of ears could detect the faintest hints of the rage hiding just below the surface. It finally hit critical mass as Shiv tried to dance his way around yet another question.
"Bullshit!" Agent Garner snapped.
He slammed his fist down on the table with a crack that echoed across the room.
"You are nothing special. Extremists are a dime a dozen. Whether the acts are committed with a suicide vest or blaster, every one of you is nothing more than a mass murderer hiding behind a thin idealist veil!" He roared before turning deathly quiet, "So, I'm going to ask again. What was so special to you about our visit to Coruscant?"
Master Plo Koon resisted the urge to recoil as years of pent up rage and hatred poured into the Force. The air seemed to crackle and spark as Garner verbally tore into the prisoner. Master Plo Koon didn't know what had sparked the agent's aggression, but it went well beyond the attack a couple of nights ago. Regardless, he needed to be careful. If Shiv caught on to the full extent of this weakness, he might be able to catch Agent Garner in a trap of circular reasoning that would get them nowhere. Master Plo Koon went to pull the agent aside but was stopped as the agent scooped up his datapad. Agent Garner took a calming breath and scrolled through the different documents.
"Nineteen hundred: A Mandalorian makes contact with the Republican Guard," Agent Garner began clinically, "Nineteen o' one: Multiple explosions rock the Cordescena Hotel. Active shooters reported. Nineteen o' two: Judiciary forces begin establishing a perimeter. Nineteen o' four: Republican Guard soldiers and armor begin landing within the Judiciary perimeter. Nineteen o' five: First Battalion, A Company makes entry into the Cordescena Hotel… so we're clear that's over seventy men deployed in five minutes. Nineteen o' six, Subject 1 is neutralized with non-lethal weapons. Subject 2 suffers jetpack failure and plummets three hundred feet to his death…"
Shiv listened as Agent Garner read off the record of his failings. No wonder the man had walked in with such a condescending attitude. If this man was to be believed, then he was the only one of the attackers to survive the attack. His men had been chased into the darkest holes of the planet, then gunned down like womp rats in their holes.
Of course, interrogators were never to be believed. Shiv knew this better than most. He had been on the other end of the table. He knew how information was manipulated. However, he had to admit that the man had a point. It very much smelled like a setup, but why would his employer set him up? Unless… Shiv felt the suspicion swell up in him. There was only one answer, and it made up his mind for him.
"What do you want?" Shiv cut in, "You have me, and the rest of the team is supposedly dead?"
"We want your employer," Master Plo Koon answered.
"No."
The answer was blunt. There was no room for debate or negotiation.
"What did he offer you?" Agent Garner quizzed.
Silence fell over the room. The prisoner's eyes drifted up as he considered the question. This man—whoever he was—was good. Money didn't mean much, but a services-for-services deal could give away vital information. Of course, this information couldn't be traced directly back to Shiv. He would still have to escape. It would be a cold day in hell before he cut a deal. That would make this information public, and that he couldn't allow. He had a better chance of surviving a government-sanctioned death sentence. However, answering the question would allow him to strike back at the people who had gotten his men killed.
Master Plo Koon could sense a change in the man's mental state. It was clear that he was seriously considering giving away that information. As a precaution, the Jedi reached out with the Force. He could feel the electrical currents in the walls and the force signatures all around. He focused his attention on the three cameras in the room. They were audio/visual and the biggest threat to this investigation. Whatever Shiv had to say could not be allowed to leave this room. Master Plo Koon sent out small force blasts in the direction of each camera. One by one, he felt them wink out as their internal components were reduced to powder. A few seconds later, Shiv began opened his mouth to speak.
"The employer promised to provide assistance in dealing with some issues… people, rather… on Mandalore," Shiv answered carefully.
Agent Garner turned to the Jedi Master for context. The only response was a look that said "later".
"What kind of help?" the Agent followed up.
Shiv didn't immediately respond as he pieced together his words. He had to tread carefully, now.
"He claimed to possess the forces to destroy the Shadow Collective," Shiv finally answered, "These criminal scums have destroyed my home world and distracted my people from their true mission."
"Thank you, Shiv. You have been most helpful," Master Plo Koon concluded.
As he spoke, the Jedi rose to leave and pulled the Agent with him. Garner may not have realized it, but the Mandalorian had given them their first solid clue in this investigation. The Agent made his protests clear through his face as he followed the Jedi out. They retrieved their belongings at the security desk and exited the prison. Only once they were at the landing pad, did Agent Garner speak up.
"Why the hell did we leave?" Agent Garner demanded.
His face flushed with anger.
"The Shadow Collective is a Mandalorian criminal force lead by a former Sith named Darth Maul. He may be the only living link we have to whomever is controlling Count Dooku," Master Plo Koon explained, "This also means that he is a target for this man. Think about it. If your delegation posed a threat to his plan, then he could hire Deathwatch to kill them in exchange for doing something that he planned to do anyway. There's no money and there's no paper trail. Deathwatch prisoners are famous for their refusal to talk, and even if they were at risk of talking, prison yard murders are common and easy to arrange."
Agent Garner rolled his eyes and countered, "That doesn't answer any of the questions about the Blue Shadow Virus or what special instructions his employer gave him. I had finally gotten him to open up. We had one shot to recreate that discussion and you blew it."
"He wouldn't have answers about the Blue Shadow Virus. Also, you will find that subtly is a valuable trait on this planet. That prison has ears and eyes, few of which are friendly. He was already flirting with death by giving us the information that he did," the Jedi warned, "We will have to be delicate in our probing."
Agent Garner accepted the answer with a deep, calming breath. Perhaps there was such thing as "pushing too hard" right now.