ONE WEEK LATER

Tafanda Bay

Ithor

James Yeo-Lan sat patiently on a red velvet sofa, surrounded by extravagant décor. Lamps made from natural crystal hung from the ceiling, and from their prisms emanated light – split into nature's seven colors – the brightest being a luminous yellow. It subtly lit up the focus points of the room, while casting lesser areas in a soft glow. The walls were a shade of wheat, and no sensible person could argue that bare spaces weren't being utilized. A myriad of pictures adorned the empty portions of the walls – some of them depicting landscapes from different systems, some were portraits of various families and some...well, some were simply beyond the scope of James' abilities to appreciate art. Beautiful plants were almost strategically placed in the six corners of the room, all in healthy condition and in perfect bloom. In the center of this opulent chamber was a desk, behind which sat an Ithorian receptionist – or at least that was what James could gather. A communications console kept chirping in front of the Ithorian, and in the past hour, he had answered several calls with his deep, guttural voice before going back to his other duties.

James let out a breath, more in patience than in frustration as he bided his time. This was the office of an old friend, or acquaintance, rather...considering that James had come in contact with this person by pure accident. Several years ago, the Exchange had been smuggling in some deadly spice into a war-torn system, and a few Jedi – him being one of them – were instructed to put a halt to these black market dealings, because they impeded recuperative efforts in the region. Of all the beings involved in this smuggling operation was an Ithorian, Cheer Narda, who maintained the backward and forward flow of accounts, the amount of spice being bought or traded. In short, despite the lack of direct contact this Ithorian had with people behind this operation, he had a wealth of information – enough to implicate several individuals and companies party to this scheme. Bookkeeper though he was, an extremely valued one he had become.

On being discovered by the Jedi, the Ithorian did not plead ignorance, instead he asked for mercy – he was clearly aware that a Republic trial would speedily result in his incarceration and that the real players of the game would get out and disappear without even getting their hands dirty. In other words, the Jedi together with the Republic would not opt for a trial – there were bigger fish to fry and the information the Ithorian possessed could be used to put them behind bars instead. Due to that, however, his life would be in grave danger – his death would obviously serve to profit the people he worked for.

But the Jedi and the Republic made the usual assurances; that his safety was their primary concern, that with his testimony he would alleviate the burden caused by guilt which had, in turn, been caused by his profession. James knew, though, that a successful trial did not necessarily mean that everyone involved would be locked up, there was always the chance that some of them would not be convicted and instead, would be allowed to return to their lives. And certainly then, they would not be quick to forget who it was who brought this trouble on them. It would be Narda they would target, and perhaps even his family would be in danger. The Jedi were spread too thin to offer constant protective services to one civilian Ithorian, and everyone knew that the Republic needed soldiers to replace their steadily decreasing numbers following the Mandalorian Wars. There simply weren't enough men and women to spare for a seemingly insignificant cause. Assurances were not enough.

Perhaps then, it was from a feeling of pity or dread, or maybe even both that James had decided that the Ithorian should not be placed in the middle of the fray. In truth, it was not his decision to make, but he had powerful friends back then – Jedi Master Atris being one of them – on his side. Helping make his case pertaining to the safety of Narda, Atris managed to convince key players in the Republic Senate that exposing the Ithorian was not the route down which they should proceed. Instead, both she and James suggested that they stage Cheer Narda's death, coming up with an elaborate scheme to orchestrate such an event. Only then would they allow for the finding of evidence that would incriminate persons involved in the smuggling operation. Despite the somewhat lengthy and tiresome process, they were successful. The criminals were put away and Cheer Narda, now believed to be deceased, was free to start his life anew along with his family.

It wasn't an overstatement to say that James might just have saved Narda's life. And Narda did not forget that.

Several months later, James had received an anonymous message – sent from Toydaria (or so it seemed). It was a note of gratitude, and it didn't take James longer than a few moments to recognize that it was Cheer Narda who had sent this letter of thanks. In it, he had given James a brief account of his new life. He was now a relatively successful business accountant for some important people, all perfectly legal, he had said, and would be returning to Ithor soon with his mate and offspring, to start giving back something to his own people. Because of the new and important connections Narda had made, he was in a position of knowledge and influence, something he believed James could benefit from due to his benevolent actions towards Narda and his own. At the time, although grateful, James thought nothing of it – he did not have many dealings with the Ithorians or their restorative services. He did, however, for whatever reason, keep this offer in mind. After all, who knew when it could come in useful?

Still seated on the couch, James allowed himself a little chuckle. Certainly he did not foresee himself being stationed – if that was the right word for it – on Ithor, with a Padawan in-training and the Jedi Order in quiet turmoil. But then again, life did have a way of bringing about sudden ironies; that was the nature of her unpredictability.

The Ithorian receptionist silently rose to his feet and lumbered towards James. "The honourable Terxe will see you now, Master Yeo-Lan, and he offers his apologies for making you wait this long." he said, in his native Ithorian.

James smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, following quietly behind the Ithorian.

"James Yeo-Lan," spoke the voice in Ithorese, with what James believed to be fondness, "I honestly did not think you would have the time to venture here! What twists of fate have brought you down this road?"

James smiled warmly as he walked towards his friend. The Ithorian did the same and opened out his arms, trying to mimic an embrace – something he had seen various species doing, especially humans. The Ithorian fumbled forward, giving James an awkward hug, but it was obvious that James appreciated the gesture nonetheless; the Ithorians were not known for displaying their emotions so openly.

"Let's just say that fate hasn't been particularly kind in bringing me to Ithor, Narda." said James in Basic.

The Ithorian blinked his eyes rapidly, looking somewhat alarmed. "Please, my friend, I do not go by that name anymore...for reasons I'm sure you remember. I am now Yentl Terxe."

James chastised himself silently before apologizing. "Of course, of course. I am sorry."

Terxe nodded in acceptance and waved his hand towards a comfortable seat in front of his desk. James sat down there and continued to exchange pleasantries. "So...how did you come by all of this, Terxe? Last I recall, you were out of a job. Circumstances hadn't exactly been kind..."

The Ithorian nodded sadly, but then his eyes lit up. "True. But my skills weren't lost to me. If you think back, I had quite the knack for handling money. An efficient accountant becomes a very valuable resource for a successful enterprise. And once I was handed this life, this clean slate, I could maximize my talents!"

James laughed. "And it looks as if you did! I am impressed, though, at the speed of your progress."

"Perfectly legal, perfectly legal, I tell you. I had managed to hone my abilities while I was with the Exchange, and they have served me well here. This firm appreciates my efficiency and what's more, it serves a worthy cause."

James' eyebrows rose in curiousity.

"We are, as you know, one of the best biotechnology firms in the Ottega Sector – you'd find it hard-pressed to find another company that manufactures environmental-friendly energy equipment as proficiently as we do. We have been able to franchise...oh, I do hate that word, I mean...expand out of this Sector too – our next goal is to extend our services out into Telos. After what the Mandalorians did to that planet, recovery is of the utmost importance. We believe we can help speed up the effort greatly." Terxe then laughed and shook his head. "But I see that our company's initiatives for the future tire you. No, no, please don't apologize – I do sometimes get carried away by the endless possibilities. My mate often reminds me of it."

"How is your family, by the way?" asked James, taking the opportunity to speak of other matters.

"Doing well...mostly due to your involvement so many years ago. Jayla, my eldest, is thinking about going into the same profession I'm in! My son aims to go into the horticultural business...very honourable professions, these are."

James nodded in agreement. "Where are they now?"

"Well, my mate and my eldest reside here with me, in Tafanda Bay. My son has travelled to the Falls of Dessiar for his studies. Some very exotic plants grow there, some of which he thinks should be preserved should any ill befall them."

James leaned back comfortably in his seat. "I have to say, Terxe, it looks as if you have done very well for yourself. I certainly am impressed."

"But you have not come down here for idle banter, have you?" asked Terxe, looking James directly in the eyes. "Is there anything with which I can offer aid?"

"Actually, Terxe...yes, there is. It is, however, an extremely long story and I'm afraid I lack the time to sit here and tell you about it."

"What a shame. I adore stories. But if the situation warrants urgency, then we should not tarry. Tell me what it is you want, and I will see what I can do."

Grateful for Terxe's understanding nature, James spoke. "There's no tip-toeing around the issue here. My Padawan and myself need to leave Ithor and head to Naboo as soon as we can."

"Surely there are local freighters that traffic through this route daily... If it's comfort you seek, I have a small ship at my disposal and you're welcome to – "

" – We...uh, we would like for this journey to be as discreet as possible, Terxe."

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with bounty placed on Jedi, would it? Are some mercenaries on your tail? If so, I will see that the matter is dealt with as soon as possible. We Ithorians will not tolerate outsiders bringing their filthy business into our lives. Especially mercenary scum."

"You know?" said James, incredulously.

Terxe chortled. "Of course I know, my friend. The Jedi have now become the fresh prize of many bounty hunters. Your heads have become more valuable than Oronatian gold." Terxe rubbed his hammer-like head in sadness. "But there still remain some Republic-governed systems that won't withstand this vigilante nonsense. We are one of them. After all, what has this galaxy come to when we have resorted to hunting down the Jedi, our guardians, for the love of credits?"

James sighed. "So you understand then, how we can't walk about in the open as we once did,"

"Certainly I do. If it's discretion you want, then it's discretion you'll get. I'll personally see to it that you and your Padawan are safely transported to Naboo. We might even be able to give you both some new identities, this will help stave off any suspicion; even if for a little while."

James gave the Ithorian a wan smile. "Hey, any time you can buy us is well worth the effort. And I will be very thankful."

"There is no need for thanks, my friend. Now let us not waste any more time and see what we can do." said Terxe solemnly.

"I suppose if discretion is what you were after...you certainly seemed to have achieved your goal," spoke a miserable Javin, as he squirmed within the layers of cloth that adorned him.

James shot him a look of disapproval. "In some instances, Padawan, you will learn that the ends justify the means."

"But it's absolutely stifling underneath all this! We'll die of heatstroke before we even board!" he protested. "I can't believe you turned down Terxe's offer to fly us in on his private shuttle."

"That would require an entourage, and an entourage attracts too much attention. Be patient, the shuttle's almost here and we'll board the freighter within the hour."

Javin wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. He felt several beads of sweat trickle down his spine before they were absorbed by the thick cloth. "So was this your idea or Terxe's?" said Javin, still scowling.

"Mine. Merchants of Islendil are plentiful these days. No one would give us a second look in this garb." said James quietly.

Islendillian merchants regularly frequented developing or war-recovering worlds such as Ithor. They had multiplied following the Jedi Civil War several years ago, and were often spotted underneath layers of heavy clothing during market days in small towns. Initially some had mistaken the merchants for the Sand People of Tatooine, thinking that the savage tribe had suddenly come to accept civilized living, but that misconception was soon swept away. The islendillians were not ashamed of their world, and were quick and eager to speak to their customers of their planet, which had been covered by several layers of ice some thousands of years ago. The planet was rarely, if ever, exposed to the suns belonging to their system, and its people had evolved to be mostly intolerant of sunlight. Thus, the thick tunics served a dual purpose on their world and during their travels; they provide much needed warmth on Islendil and shielded their sensitive skins from the suns of other systems. Many associated an icy realm with barrenness, but the Islendillians were also quick to dispel that notion. They were a resourceful people, and were able to construct structures that simultaneously encased warmth and utilized the rich nutrients found in Islendillian ice to feed their crops. As a result, the harvested fruits and vegetables from the planet were awash in flavour and were somehow able to maintain this freshness even when stored for several weeks.

However, Islendil was not purely a farmer's paradise. Compounds found in the ice were discovered to be some of the most essential for construction of hyperdrive engines. Scientists were initially perplexed by this link between food and travel, but overcame their surprise soon enough and began to highlight this revelation to others. It wasn't long before Prime Ministers, Governors, Kings and Queens caught on to this new phenomenon, and were eager to import as much Islendillian ice to their systems. Without much hesitation, they offered the Islendillians an abundance of credits for their services. But the Islendillians were not fools, and immediately foresaw the consequences that would follow should they agree to this trade. They were not prepared to deplete their home (and their own survival) of these resources for mere credits. But at the same time, they did not want to permanently seal this window of opportunity. Following several re-written agreements between Islendil and other systems of trade, Islendil agreed to ship very specific amounts of their ice to certain systems annually. These amounts were inadequate to supply even half a world with hyperdrive engines, but scientists had soon developed techniques to increase the yield of the chemicals within the ice provided that they had something to start from. They were now highly regarded by several systems aware of their imports, and were treated with respect on their travels.

Hence, James' idea to disguise themselves as these esteemed merchants. But he had to admit, although the idea was practically sound in certain aspects, he had not anticipated that the physical effects of such garb could be so stifling. Perhaps then, the boy was right, and this wasn't the best of ideas.

He did not have much time to think up an apology to his Padawan, however, because in the next instant the mechanized voice over the intercom informed travelers that their freighter was now boarding and it was time for them to be on the move once again.

The trip to Naboo was not as long as both of them had foreseen. Perhaps the hours sped by as they slept; giving their tired minds much-needed rest. Or perhaps the sights and sounds on board the freighter provided entertainment and served as a distraction, something James recognized that he required just as much as Javin did. In any case, the pair were grateful for this shortened trip and were relieved to reach Naboo without unnecessary attention from travelling citizens, and more importantly, bounty hunters.

On landing on the beautiful planet, they left port again without any incident, and Javin was instantly treated to a stunning view of the planet's capital, Theed. The roads were lined with spring-green trees, and the streets were mostly paved with terracotta stones and in some places, ornate tiles that appeared to carry ancient intricate artwork. As they walked through the roads, James gave Javin a brief description of Theed's artistic history and with it, the political views that had molded the planet into what is was now.

He explained that Naboo was once not a democracy; it had only amounted to its current standing because its people had been awakened from a forced stupor. It was a recognition that ordinary citizens and its rulers were no longer working in tandem for a profitable future, but that the lifeblood of the shopkeeper or the craftsman was used to sustain Theed's pseudo-legislators well and beyond the bare necessities. Initially, the citizens were far too occupied by the fundamental need to survive, and thereby, were too demoralized to attempt to alter their situation.

It was then that quietly and humbly, younger politicians began to emerge out of the woodwork with noble purposes in their hearts. Perhaps it was their youth that enabled them to dream in such a fashion; innocence and passion had not yet been corrupted by the limits and cynicism of society. New bills that proposed regulation of governmental procedures and limited its authority over certain issues were pushed forth relentlessly. Initially, this fresh breeze left its critics bemused but skeptical; but eventually, the proposals became tiresome and finally, a suspension was ruled in favour of those against the bills.

But finally, it seemed, governmental councils had overstepped their boundaries.. The silencing of politicians that championed the voices and concerns of the people no longer went by unnoticed as it had for several years. These mounted frustrations raced furiously towards their pinnacle, and inevitably lead to a planet-wide revolution. Individuals who were known to have a distaste for undeservedly affluent politicians were labeled as traitors to their government, and these seditionists were treated brutally (by those still loyal to Naboo's rulers); they were stripped of their careers and livelihoods while some were judged to be too much of a threat to society, and imprisoned for several years.

But revolution is often stirred and fueled by passion, whose effects met resistance with equal resistance. It seemed that for every mutineer that was taken away, several more took his place and together their voices reached a crescendo never heard before in the history of Naboo. And just when the people were prepared to spill blood to take what was theirs by right, its rulers were shaken enough to see sense and hurriedly informed the citizens that it was certainly time for some change. Agreements were made between the two parties, this time with no intermediary to delay proceedings, and a concurrence was reached that ensured the satisfaction of the government and its people.

During the twilight of this strained period, very few individuals went without realizing that they had come out somewhat unscathed through a potentially dangerous situation. The ingredients for a civil war were all in the mix, but through a stroke of luck, circumstance had swerved to avoid it. It would not do then, the people of Naboo had recognized, to forget such an incident. Future generations needed reminding. Making mistakes were natural and inherent to learning, but repetition was simply unacceptable. So the people turned to its artists to paint a picture of their world should it have taken the path to civil war. Poems were written of loss and hate, pictures were painted depicting death and hopelessness and these works adorned portions of the capital to serve as a reminder – a voice from history warning them against the perils of the future.

One particular mural was colourfully constructed, its picture telling the tale of a mother who had lost all her seven sons, one by one, to a fruitless cause. It was this mural that Javin was staring at now. Preoccupied by its forlorn beauty, Javin spoke, voicing his thoughts.

"Why place these decorations in the capital, though? It just seems so...so melancholy."

"We should not refer to them as "decorations", Javin. They are a form of expression, and while I wouldn't dare to declare myself as a scholar of interpretation, I daresay that this mural certainly gets it message across. The people don't want to risk their lives again...too much was, and is, at stake." said James as he stood behind Javin, studying the mural from his own perspective.

"But these murals use fear to reach its ends! What use is freedom if fear is used to maintain it? I mean, then it's not freedom anymore, is it? Naboo should choose its path based on how well it would serve them. Fear might ultimately breed hate. And in the end, they'll end up doing what they feared all along."

James smiled, acknowledging the maturity in the boy's words. "Perhaps you're right. But growth doesn't often occur all at once. It's a process. Maybe Naboo will realize what you spoke of, and for their sakes, sooner rather than later. It is not really a fact that you could point out...self-realization is literal. No one can make you understand, only you have the ability to flip that switch."

"I suppose then," he began with a smile, "that pointing out that we're a little heavily-dressed for this climate wouldn't convince you that your idea was quite...uh...painful? That you have to recognize this for yourself?"

"Absolutely," laughed James. "I don't see anything wrong with these sacks we've draped over ourselves. In fact, I think they emphasize your aura of tolerance."

"Figures." said Javin, as he turned away from the mural. "It would take some serious heatstroke to stir up some self-realization from you, but by that time I'd already have become one with the Force."

"Say no more, Padawan," chuckled James again, "I'll concede, I'll concede. But let's not waste any more time on the conditions of my surrender. I believe we have a senator to find."

"Senator Sonum?" repeated the receptionist, fixing her stare onto Javin, who stood in front of her.

Javin nodded. "Yes, I was told that he worked in Naboo's Senate for a time. I understand that he must be preoccupied with matters of state, and that he might even not be on Naboo at this moment...but if you could please arrange an appointment – "

James sighed softly, and interjected. "What my young friend means to say is that we humbly request an audience with the Senator's aide, should he still serve in the Senate." The receptionist nodded, but still appeared skeptical. Before she could speak, James went on. "We realize the impromptu nature of this request, but we need to get in touch with the Senator as soon as possible."

The receptionist tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear before forcing a polite smile. But when she spoke, her voice carried with it deliberate authority. "The Senate building is not one you can simply stride into, Merchant, and demand attention! There are regulations to be followed, and rules to adhere to!"

Javin's cheeks flushed with impatience. "Look, it's not like we're going to storm into the chambers, we'd be grateful at least if you would tell us how to get in contact with Senator Sonum! At least!"

James held a placating hand in Javin's direction. Now was not the time to ruffle the feathers of an already-flustered secretary. "Madam, I was truly hoping it wouldn't come to this, given the nature of our business, but speed is of the utmost importance to us now. I was hoping that we would not have to disclose our matters to you." With that, he subtly parted his tunic to a side, revealing a glistening lightsaber clipped to a belt at his waist. He closed the tunic over it as quickly as possible.

The receptionist let out a small gasp, and when she spoke, her voice held a certain tremor. "We have no money...here..."

"Don't be absurd," said James, almost losing his patience, "We're Jedi Knights! If you haven't already heard of the bounty placed on Jedi, then you wouldn't understand why we have to move about in secrecy!" He hesitated before continuing. "You have heard about the bounty, haven't you?"

The receptionist stared at him, wide-eyed. "No Sir, no I haven't. Please accept my humble apologies. Sometimes it takes time for bad news to travel here...or to my desk at least."

"It's alright. You had no idea we were Jedi. We were told to contact Senator Sonum. By whom, I cannot tell you. However, rest assured that we mean him no harm. We could have bided our time and gathered some information about the Senator – we could have bypassed your laws in order to reach him, but we chose not to."

The receptionist smiled, but this time is was genuine. "And we greatly appreciate it, Master Jedi. Senator Sonum is no longer in service here," she watched James' and Javin's expressions fall in disappointment, but continued on hurriedly. "However...she does serve on Senator Balfa's advisory board, and without being too presumptuous, I would say that she is one of his closest confidantes."

"Does she live in Theed?" asked Javin, hopeful again.

"For part of the time, yes. Her other home is on Alderaan. But fortunately for you, she is in currently in Theed, visiting with family. But, even if she was with Senator Balfa I cannot simply usher you in there. I'll have his aides question you before we arrange an appointment. You must understand that this is standard procedure. I can inform his aide of your...position, but from then on, it's out of my hands."

James sighed, relieved. "Of course, of course." He paused. "Oh, and we would be very grateful if you could please – "

" – keep this incident away from listening ears?" smiled the receptionist, "Certainly. I will see what I can do."

"This way please," said Senator Balfa's aide, Horutius Quail, as he led them down a well-lit hallway. They passed several sturdy oak doors, which Javin believed led to other chambers of other public servants. After a few minutes of twists and turns down several corridors, Horutius Quail paused at one door, entered an access code and gestured for the two Jedi to enter before him.

"Do forgive me for keeping you waiting," said Quail, "After Miss Riil, our receptionist, informed me that you needed to meet with Senator Balfa's advisor very soon and that you were Jedi, I spoke with him in the hope that you could go straight to him instead. I understand that you must not be met with delays."

James smiled appreciatively, and nodded subtly in Javin's direction; he apparently wanted his Padawan to express gratitude on behalf of both of them. "We're very thankful, Quail. Despite our few numbers, you have thanks from the Jedi Order." said Javin. "Will Advisor Sonum be able to meet with us at the same time?"

"Senator Balfa informed me that the Advisor was out of town today, but she should return soon. Perhaps in the meantime, Balfa can address some of your questions and concerns. And don't worry, such affairs that demand discretion are respected; no word of this will escape these chambers on Senator Balfa's orders. We appreciate your efforts to go through proper channels, Jedi, we really do."

With that, the pair walked into a warm, but efficient room. Senator Ortu Balfa, a slim man in his early sixties, smiled warmly at them before shaking both their hands. He gestured towards a brown suede sofa in the corner of the room, and chose discourse amongst such informal seating arrangements over conversations from across his imposing desk.

"I must say how sorry I am to be meeting you both under these circumstances." He was surprisingly soft-spoken, and almost timid, but this did not cast doubt on the man's apparent intelligence, thought Javin. "The last time a member of your Order was here...was, well...over half a year now. It has been too long for comfort."

James leaned forward, an indication to Javin that he would take the lead in this conversation. "I assume you know about the mercenaries..."

"A dirty business, that." nodded Balfa. "I must tell you that there is some truth to the rumour that the Exchange is behind some of groundwork behind these dealings. However, what is even more disturbing," he paused, lowering his voice a notch, "What is even more disturbing is that someone is paying the Exchange to dispatch news of Jedi rumoured to be off-world. In other words, they're using the Exchange as an advertising tool, if you'd like to call it that. Bounty hunters then gather whatever evidence the Exchange can give them and go onwards on their hunt." He shook his head in disdain. "A terribly dirty business."

James breathed in heavily. The scope of this threat obviously ran deeper than he had imagined. Being off-world, in the countryside of Ithor, it was so easy to be isolated from all these goings-on. Complacency came naturally – the dangers that the Republic and mostly, the Jedi, now faced had been shielded from them. Silently, he chided himself for this deliberate ignorance of affairs, but on remembering his responsibility to his Padawan, he recognized that he had more than himself to protect.

"Is there any evidence that the Sith might be behind this?" he asked.

Ortu Balfa shrugged. "Honestly, Master Jedi, I'm not certain of anything. Personally, however, I do have my reservations that this is of Sith making."

"Why do you say that?" asked Javin.

"Because, and this is ironic, I tell you...there is some evidence that suggests that a Sith has been captured by some bounty hunters on Corellia not more than a few months ago. Now, this could be a simple mistake on the part of the bounty hunters, and then again, it may not. Either way, since we have no knowledge of what became of this Sith, we don't know if he was released or not."

Javin narrowed his eyes. "How do you know all of this?"

At this, the Senator chuckled. "This, my young friend, is not really a wealth of information. It is but a piece to a greater puzzle. I fear you're giving me undeserved credit for gathering this little knowledge. I am not, as I would hope, in such a high position to do so." He sighed before continuing. "Which is why I am not the least bit surprised that you wanted to meet with Kauru Sonum. I feel it is better that she tell you herself, but let me just tell you that she has had dealings with the Sith, and this is how she has come across this knowledge." At this, both James' and Javin's guard went up; their muscles stiffened. The tension was noticeable, which was why the Senator hurried to pacify his visitors. "I assure you, neither she nor I work with the Sith at any capacity...we are friends of the Republic, and therefore, the Jedi as well. I cannot emphasize this enough. Kauru has had a...past with the Sith, and although she was not part of their Order, those are not memories she has cast aside and forgotten. She has confided in me, and I fear that I am doing a disservice to her by speaking of her in her absence. I do hope she'll forgive me, and that you will both forgive me...for stopping here. I am afraid that I may be overstepping my bounds."

James' shoulders relaxed, and Javin's followed in kind. They both had sensed the truth in the Senator's words.

"Say no more, Senator," said Javin. "We understand."

"All the information you have given us already has been very helpful," James added.

"Given your few numbers, I believe it will be an uphill task for the Jedi to get to the bottom of this mystery. In my mind, it is only the Sith who stand to profit from the capture of Jedi, and in this instance isn't likely that they're behind it. But you both seem to have followed a credible trail of information in searching for Sonum...so let's hope that her information proves to be fruitful." spoke Balfa as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

James and Javin glanced at each other discreetly. They did not know that the information Elori had provided them with from her datapad dealt with the bounty on Jedi. To the contrary, it had seemed that her information was linked to the Jedi instead and had ties to another matter altogether. At least, that's what James had imagined. Apparently, Senator Balfa believed that they were following leads of a different sort, and James was wary of revealing his initial intentions.

He did not have much time to ponder this, however, as a soft beeping from Balfa's desk alerted the Senator. He rose from his seat and attended to his information console. "Master Jedi," said Balfa as he addressed James, "Advisor Sonum is here and she will be with us shortly. I hope you don't mind, but out of respect for your business...and hers, I will sit this meeting out."

As soon as Kauru Sonum entered the room, the two Jedi rose to greet her. They were struck by her poise and dignified presence, one that instead of demanding respect, asked for it ever so politely. Her face was framed by deep, black hair that was lined by silver near her temples, suggestive of her age. Her eyes were equally as dark as her hair and seemed to be a window to memories she would rather not disclose. Her gaze was keen and piercing, however, and it appeared as if her senses missed nothing. She was attired formally, her dress made of a melancholy maroon cloth with barely noticeable silver hems. And with each step she took, it was as if she glided across the floor instead of walking naturally. But it was not her appearance that took the Jedi off guard, it was what emanated from her that did.

It was Javin who shifted from foot to foot, trying to contain his surprise. The Force flowed very strongly through this person in front of them; and her remarkable gift made every hair on the back of Javin's neck stand on end. His did all he could to keep from highlighting this fact, and swiftly moved his hands behind his back – using his fidgeting fingers to serve as a distraction. He glanced in James' direction to see if his Master had noticed it as well. From James' bland expression, it was difficult to fathom, but having been his Padawan for a time now, Javin knew that James must be just as astounded as he was.

"Senator...I mean, Advisor Sonum, it is a distinct pleasure to meet you. Allow me to introduce ourselves. I am James Yeo-Lan and this is my Padawan, Javin Kepp." said James as he put forth his hand in greeting.

The lady grasped his hand and then Javin's firmly before smiling. "Jedi, please forgive my formal attire, I just returned from a funeral of a friend of a friend. Please, sit. Have you both been served any refreshments as yet?"

They shook their heads, no. She gave out a small chuckle. "Ortu is a public servant, but sometimes I think what he makes up for in service he lacks in hospitability." She walked over to an intercom near the entrance and instructed her aide to bring her visitors some beverages. She turned her attention back to the Jedi. "I regret that we had to keep you waiting for so long. Ortu tells me that you did not have the chance to set up an appointment."

"No we haven't, Madam." said James. "Our meeting needed to be arranged in haste."

She moved to sit across from them, tucking her long gown underneath her before she sat. "Well, seeing as how you both are in a hurry, perhaps pleasantries need to be dispensed with and we should get down to business. What have you come to see me about?"

James started – a little taken aback by her straightforward manner. Perhaps the effect of meeting someone who emanated Force sensitivity as she did had not yet worn down, but whatever the case, James' bewilderment had not gone unnoticed, so Javin stepped in quickly. "We're following a lead, Advisor. From another Jedi who has gone missing. She left us with your name, and she may have indicated that you...or someone you know, had a link with the Jedi in the past."

Kauru Sonum's warm face suddenly turned pale, but she spoke as if nothing had perturbed her. "Everyone of Naboo's politicians have had something to do with the Jedi, Padawan Kepp, at one point or another. I have met with them on several occasions years ago." Despite her diminishing pallor and reasonable explanation, both Jedi could not dispute the fact that she was startled by the question. Both parties being Force sensitive, it was difficult to ignore the unspoken emotions that resonated from her being.

"Yes, of course," said James, recovering quickly from his first surprise to take more control over his side of the conversation. "But we also have evidence that this same individual has also had dealings with the Sith in addition to the Jedi. We're not here to interrogate anyone, Advisor, but we feel we must tell you that we already know of your link to the Sith. We're aware that you're not part of their Order of their agenda...but whatever connection you had in your past is a vital piece of information that could help us sort out the future of the Jedi. We can't emphasize enough how much we need to know what you know." There. He had said it. He had bared his and Javin's desperation in the hope that it would induce sympathy on her part – if not for them, at least for their friends.

She stared at James at length before speaking. "Politics teaches you hard lessons, Gentlemen. The first one being that you simply cannot trust anyone. Ortu Balfa never has learned this lesson, but I have always taken it to heart. It's true, I do have ties to the Jedi and to the Sith, but to an extent I would rather not comment on at this moment. Let's just converse for a while before I make a decision for or against your intentions. Is that a deal?" James thought this quite fair, and nodded in agreement. Sonum then proceeded to talk. "Being Jedi, I suppose it's quite obvious to you both that I possess certain Jedi traits. When I was younger, I was told that I was very strong in the Force."

"Did the Jedi ever request that you be trained?" asked Javin.

"Well, yes...and no. Many people had a hand in my fate, and a lot of them did not agree on what was to become of me. I was to be trained at a young age, in fact, as soon as I was born. But circumstances changed, and my paths turned elsewhere."

She was being deliberately vague, realized James. And the likely reason behind her ambiguity was fear. He needed to convince her that she didn't need to be cautious around himself or Javin. And if it was someone else that she dreaded, they would not betray anything she told them. This, he recognized, could only be accomplished by being forthright. "Advisor Sonum," began James, "We did not come here to report back to the Jedi on your whereabouts, or on your successes and failures. We are here because friends dear to us need our help. We don't know where they are at the moment, and all we have to work with now is you. We...we suspect that something happened several years ago within the Order. And although this is difficult for me to admit, I am afraid it could prove to be true."

"What is it?" said Sonum, her voice steady but low. With it, it carried a tone of dreaded anticipation.

"I am afraid that the Jedi may have orchestrated or participated in a plot involving trafficking of some sort. Now I don't know for sure whether they dealt with living species, but our friend suggested that they trafficked clones, so I suppose you could say that we have good reason to believe they did. Apparently, a Sith, who was formerly known as Pietro – "

At this, the woman gasped and immediately brought her hand to her mouth. "Peter? Peter, tell me please," she grasped James hand, and he felt the icy coolness of it reflect her anxiety. "Is he alright?"

"If Pietro is Peter..." said James, speaking slowly, trying to piece the information together.

"Yes! Is he alright?" she asked again, no longer afraid to convey her distress.

"He's dead."

She let out an inadvertent breath, followed by several more. She leaned back in her seat and looked down at the floor in disbelief for several moments.

"Milady?" ventured Javin, finally. "Are you alright?"

When she spoke, she sounded hesitant, but the sadness rang clearly in her voice. "I suppose...I suppose I should have expected it all along. But you know, denial can convince you that a lie is indeed the truth. And I thought he would change, that...after a time he would come back to us. I was so certain of it," Her strong-willed appearance and authoritative manner had finally given way to her emotions. This new image of her comprised of loneliness and grief – feelings that the Jedi could sense strongly. James and his Padawan looked on, as she first struggled to hold back her tears before eventually succumbing to powerful sobs.

Javin instinctively went to her side and placed an arm around her shaking shoulders. James remained in his seat, facing a dilemma of his own. He knew full well that he was the reason for Pietro's death – it was a decision he had made to protect his own Master, Atris. As timed moved on, however, he was constantly reminded of the cost of this decision. Firstly, to Elori and Javin, and now, to this poor woman.

She had gratefully accepted Javin's comforting arm, and after a short period, she turned her tear-streaked face towards James, her eyes pleading with him for something. "Tell me, Jedi, do you know how he died?"

This was the moment of truth, James realized. For his own selfish reasons and for the sake of Elori, Yustan and the Jedi Order, he knew that the truth could very likely jeopardize the chances of Sonum giving them the information they needed. For their sake, he must lie and feign ignorance. But at the same time, his conscience demanded that he own up to his actions – assume responsibility for them. She had every right to know.

"He – he was – " began James, when he was suddenly interrupted.

"No. No, please don't tell me. I don't think I need to know at this moment. Perhaps later. Not now. He was a Sith, just as you had said, and what manner of death meets a Sith...this I do not need to know. But you must also know, he was a good man, James Yeo-Lan, a loving and compassionate person. The Jedi had betrayed him in a way you...simply could not comprehend. He fulfilled for them one last oath before he found me. And then he left the Order so that we could be together. He said I was his one hope that he could start anew." Kauru Sonum stared off into the distance, recalling a fond memory before sadness was restored to her features. "But some people's pasts are not content to leave them be. Things happened...for the worse, and we were forced to separate. He said it was for our safety. He promised that even if it took him years, he would return. He gave me his word." And then quietly to herself, she said, "...and I was foolish enough to believe it."

"When did you learn that he joined the Sith?" asked Javin softly.

"Through a series of private inquiries I had made. Initially, I thought I had received the wrong information – the investigators must have had him confused with someone else. But then, ultimately, I learned it to be true. You know what's funny though? Even then, I hadn't given up hope. I convinced myself he had chosen this path to right a wrong the Jedi had committed. We respected the Jedi Code, but we were no fans of its teachers...its hypocrites." Her visage now bristled with anger. "If I told you some of the atrocities I was part of...you would be ashamed. And all of it, all of it was orchestrated by the Jedi."

Despite his reservations that all the Jedi were responsible for this act she spoke of (but he was still unaware of what it was), James did not want to argue. He burned with the desire to know what had happened to her, to this person, Pietro, and ultimately to Javin and Elori. But he couldn't press her any further; it would be too unkind and callous of him to do so. Instead, he let her speak.

"I will tell you what you need to know, Jedi," she said, as if she could read his thoughts, "but only if you give me your word – the both of you – that you will either bring the people who did this to justice...or...or if they are already dead, you will bring an end to their plans. For Pietro's sake. And for the sake of our son."

"You have our word that we will try. We share the same goal, Advisor." said James solemnly.

"What if the remaining Jedi forbid you to undertake this task?" she asked James, still skeptical. "Will your loyalty to them sway your decision and weaken your honour?"

"Our loyalty, Kauru, lies with our friends. And the free citizens of the Republic. I must tell you, though, if your information suggests that their lives are in danger, and that in accomplishing your request we could very likely lose them...then we cannot do as you ask."

"Fair enough." she said. The former Senator of Naboo settled back into her seat, acquiring whatever comfort she could during this time. Javin, meanwhile, returned to his position besides James. After Sonum had wiped away her tears, she looked at them through reddened eyes and began to speak.

"I was not born, Gentlemen, as you were. I was...engineered. By whom, and for what nefarious purposes, I do not know. But I was not the only one of my kind. There were a few others. We were designed to carry a high-midichlorian count, much higher than many who served on the Jedi Council, I later learned. We trained from the time we were toddlers; slightly earlier than when Jedi start to teaching younglings. Force manipulation and its intricacies came naturally to us, however, more so than with younglings. We were also told that we existed to serve the Jedi, and therefore, existed through the will of the Force. Being only children, it was simply easier to believe what we were told. And so I did, for a long time, until I was sixteen.

It was then that our project ran off course. Something had happened that our teachers and engineers did not intend; one of our own had become pregnant...Myself, I didn't know the meaning of the word yet, and it sounded at the time like a disease. She was quarantined, just as a diseased person would have been, but through some mishap, she along with another clone had managed to escape. Now, don't ask me how. All I know is that it happened." At this, Javin squirmed in his seat. Instantly, James shot his Padawan a look as if to say, now is not the time.

The woman continued her recollections. "Following that, nothing happened for a while and life went back to how it was. We even forgot that the incident had ever occurred, despite the fact that the two who had been lost had still not been returned. We were taught, trained...and yes, we were well looked-after. But we didn't have very many freedoms as I'm sure normal Jedi do. I have now almost even come to take my liberty for granted, but not completely yet. You could say that I remember too much. I don't know how much time passed before our facility was broken into. Although there were many individuals who were behind this, I only came to know one. Yes, it was Pietro. He later told me that he had hired mercenaries to help him." Sonum paused to rub her forehead before continuing. "At any rate, he gave me my freedom. At the cost of stealing my heart," she smiled at the memory, her hands remaining folded on her lap.

"What became of the others?" asked James.

"The people who raised me in the facility managed to take them along. That was our best guess. Pietro and I searched the area for the possibility that some died during the break-in or were deliberately murdered...but we found no bodies."

"What about the facility?" asked Javin. "Surely the facility served as evidence that this project was going on?"

Sonum shook her head. "When we returned a week later, it was gone. Probably submerged beneath the waters."

"Where was the facility?"

"Kamino," said Sonum. "The Kaminoans are brilliant engineers."

James noticed that she held no anger towards the people of Kamino. She had reserved it instead for the Jedi. "How many of you existed, Kauru? Do you know?"

"I am an individual, Master Jedi. There is only one me, I do not have duplicates." She stared at James, offended.

"I apologize," said a contrite James, "What I meant to ask you was...how many individuals were created?"

She looked upwards, trying to recall the exact number. "I couldn't tell you for certain...but in our section, around twenty. There were approximately four more sections to the entire facility. Sections that housed clones, I mean. As for the rest of the structure, your guess is as good as mine. I don't think even Pietro knew."

"That would mean that one hundred Jedi...are lost to memory." murmured James. "One hundred lives."

"So you see now, what type of an injustice we had suffered? No choice was given to us as to which paths we were to take, we were forced to be what they wanted us to be. We were bred to do so. And to deny this ever happened, to preach instead of practice – as all Jedi do – was the ultimate insult."

James nodded gravely. "I don't know what to say." He met her gaze, and within a few moments, looked away, unable to stand it. "If I could ever apologize on behalf of the Jedi who weren't aware that this was happening, I would...I would if I knew it would mean something."

Sonum let out a long breath. "Just keep your word, my friend. Just...try to do as you promised. That's all I ask. I don't think I can be of further help; just speaking about this makes me ill. For Pietro's sake, and for my son, I had to tell you. I can, however, do one final thing for you. After I left the facility with Pietro, I kept a journal. In it, you'll find the names of the Jedi Masters who instructed us. Whether they were the conspirators of this plot, I don't know, but at least it will offer you some clues as to who was."

"Is there anything else we can do?" asked Javin.

She shook her head. "No. But thank you for asking. I would like to say that it has been a pleasure to meet you both, but under these circumstances..."

"...We understand, Advisor." said James, as he and Javin rose from their seats. "You will be in our thoughts."

With that, the pair shook the Advisor's hand and left the room.