It was nearly 18 months after the Republic had fallen that they came for Chief Gronel. Zane had known they would of course, from the moment that first bill had been passed through the Senate. Aliens had been slowly but surely crushed beneath the Empire's weight, removed from major positions of power, barred from applying for certain jobs... and a general xenophobic attitude was being instilled in the military and civilian authorities. In light of this, Zane was only surprised that it had taken them this long to remove Gronel. One day, he simply wasn't there. Assistant Department Head Jake Yeltson, an older human from Alderan, simply said that Chief Gronel had taken early retirement due to 'family commitments' and had returned home immediately. For all Zane knew, it might even have been true. Within a few days of Gronel's 'retirement', Yeltson was Chief, and Zane was Assistant Head of the Department. Val was ecstatic when they were able to move into a more affluent area of the planet, and closer to Zane's work as well, and little Ioan had a great time, tottering unsteadily about now, exploring their new apartment space. By this time, there were only a handful of Masters, including Yoda and Kenobi, 2 dozen Knights and a handful of Padawans and the odd youngling who remained unaccounted for, but by this time, the trails on most had gone very, very cold. Slowly but surely, despite more and more leads turning up, each one was more vague and unreliable.

Zane gazed at the reports on his desk; all 2 of them. The time was, there would have been a dozen reports submitted by analysts each week, each with tangible evidence, often eventually leading to the death of another Jedi. Now... Zane glanced at each report- both based on unsubstantial rumours, both from information more than 3 months old. Scowling, Zane approved both reports for possible follow ups by field agents- they probably wouldn't find anything, but the effort had to be made. Privately, Zane had decided that the trails were too cold- the surviving Jedi had scattered and gone to ground months ago, and following up their last known (possible) location did little good. However, Zane knew, all too well, how slow the bureaucracy was to grasp new ideas or realise old ones weren't working. As such, Zane was pleasantly surprised when he and Chief Yeltson were called to a meeting with Pieter Ocre, Deputy Head of Imperial Intelligence, for what the memo called a 'performance review.' Chief Yeltson, normally a placid man, seemed nervous too, as they ascended in the lift to the highest floor of the Imperial Intelligence plaza. Yeltson cracked his knuckles nervously. "Now, I'm sure this is nothing to worry about, Zane. Colonel Ocre is rumoured to be a decent enough sort-" He left the last words unsaid, but Zane mentally completed the sentence- 'for an Imperial.' Technically, of course, everyone was an Imperial, especially Zane and his ilk, and Zane knew this, but Ocre... Ocre was a true Imperial. The sort of man who'd turn in his own mother if he even suspected her of dissent, ingrained with the certainty of human supremacy, arrogant, overbearing, with a vicious streak a parsec wide. In short, the sort of man who'd no doubt do very well in Imperial service.

As Zane and Yeltson waited nervously outside Ocre's office, they couldn't help but notice another jittery bureaucrat in the reception area. He went in to see Ocre before them, and was only there a few minutes before he came out. When he came out, Zane tried to ignore the mans shaking hands, pale face... and the pair of white armoured clone troopers who waited for him outside the reception area. Zane jumped, startled, when the protocol droid, in its prissy, effeminate voice, said, "Colonel Ocre will see you now." Yeltson led the way, murmuring unconvincingly to Zane, "I'm sure everything will be fine, Zane. Just relax." Colonel Ocre was a thin, severe looking man, as he sat behind his huge desk. Zane couldn't help but be impressed; the desk alone was probably as big as his own office! Colonel Ocre didn't look up from the data pad he was reading, merely said, "Chief Yeltson, Deputy Jossin, please, sit." Both did so, and Zane tried to stop his fingers from tapping the arm rests nervously. It seemed like an age before Colonel Ocre apparently finished his work. He carefully laid the pad down, and sat back, steepling his hands before them. "Now, gentlemen, your department has not been getting the desired results through your current methods. Chasing cold trails, old intelligence..." Ocre shook his head sadly, then added casually, "Lord Vader is most displeased." Zane felt cold sweat dripping down his back- was this it? Would they be met in the foyer by clone troopers, would they 'disappear?'

Ocre steepled his fingers, gazing dispassionately at them for a few moments, then said, "So, it has been decided to overhaul your department and its methods. Your aims will remain the same- to track down those remaining Jedi. However, as much use as can be has been taken from existing materials and old intelligence. Now, you will be given access to some of the Empires informants and intelligence network. You will sift their reports for any anomalies, any people showing signs of Jedi powers, anything that might lead us to another Jedi traitor. Equally..." Ocre hesitated, then said, "Any reports of those with... abilities, especially the young ones, who do not match the descriptions of any Jedi, are to be forwarded directly to me. Understood?"

Jossin said nothing, deep in thought, but Yeltson said, "Yes, sir. Entirely." Jossin hurriedly stood up with Yeltson, as Ocre nodded. "Good. Dismissed." Breathing a sigh of relief, Jossin left, trying not to hurry. When they were safely back in their own department, in Yeltson's office, Jossin said, "Chief, forgive me for asking, but-" "Why does Ocre want the young ones with ability?" Yeltson finished. He shook his head. "I don't know, Zane, I really don't. I suspect he doesn't, but someone- maybe Vader, maybe even the Emperor himself- does. And frankly... I'd rather not know why." Zane nodded. "Important not to know too much." Yeltson sighed, "Right." A pause, then he said with forced brightness, "Well, best arrange for a team briefing to update them on our new priorities."