Possessed With Power

"Useless!" the old man cried, and the young aide almost flew across the room and sprawled on the floor. The newspaper sat open on the Mayor's desk, turned to a page where Nute Gunray's picture was plastered all over it. Some article regarding suspicious goings on and accusations of violence against working girls. Worst of all, it read Gunray had information on the bombing!

"I-I'm sorry sir!" the aide whimpered from the floor. "I didn't know!"

"It is your job to know!" Palpatine hissed viciously. He made a gesture and the large security guard picked the aide up by his tie. The old man wouldn't dare sully himself by laying his own hands on such a peon of course.

"Gunray's secretive! He-he keeps telling me to leave, if I press anymore, he'll get suspicious!" the young man pleaded.

"Then what is the point of you? I told you to report his dealings to me and you fail on the one task you were assigned?" Palpatine massaged his temples and let out a heavy sigh. He needed to get ahead of this, he needed to ensure there was nothing to tie Gunray back to him. He would have to figure something out. His attention directed to the guard. "Contact Ruodo, have him deal with this one." Another wave of the hand and the guard began to drag the man out.

"No! Sir please! I can do this! Give me another chance! I can do it! I swear-!" the door closed and thankfully muffled the idiot's screeching.

Palpatine pulled out his phone, and called the next person on his shit list.

"Hello, sir." Dooku's baritone asked from the other end.

"I assume you have seen the article about Gunray?" Palpatine sneered.

"Yes sir, I was just formulating a plan now. We could cut him loose rather easily."

"No, not yet, he is still effective in his position. Besides, there is no truth to these horrid accusations." It was a lie and they both knew it, but Palpatine had always cautioned him about what to say over the phone.

"I… understand, sir." Dooku replied after a moment. "I am sure the accusers will recant if a proper investigation is conducted." Palpatine could almost hear the smirk in his tone.

"Exactly," he said smugly. "I am sure you will see to it, keep me updated."

"Of course."

Palpatine hung up, and turned his attention to another report on his tablet. He would soon know more about the situation with Gunray so his attention was better focused elsewhere.

There was little new information about Maul here… though one thing that was mildly interesting, was the mention of a woman. Some white-haired girl that dressed like a freak. It meant nothing to him, but if Maul was interested in her… Well. According to what Palpatine was reading, she was seen at that bar of his a great deal. It might be worth looking into her.

"How interesting…" Palpatine muttered to himself. He tapped the intercom on his desk phone.

"Yes sir?" Thrawn Ruodo's voice asked smoothly.

"After you have dealt with that fool, I have someone I want you to investigate." There was a pause.

"Of course sir," he replied. "Please send me all the information you have and I will look into it immediately."

"Good."

Soon, he would know everything about this strange white-haired woman. He had to protect his son, after all.

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How she'd managed it, she was still unsure. Zaiya was careful as she approached the location. It had taken so many bribes and sweet-talking to get to this point. Fives had been able to help, though in the end they'd been given two locations, Fives went to one, and Zaiya was here, in some rundown apartment in the industrial district of the city. Her first clue was that symbol on the bombs - it was here as well, painted on the damn wall like some kind of taunt. She had to wonder if it was a warning.

Everyone she'd spoken to about this General guy seemed terrified to even talk about him. It was usually an indicator she was on the right track though.

There was a fire escape on the side of the building, and Zaiya figured it was the best bet. From what she could tell, there was no movement inside and she'd not seen anyone coming or going at all in the last hour.

Carefully, the young P.I. made her way up the ladder as quickly and quietly as she could, the ladder protesting with whining creaks and scraping metal, despite her care. Everything metal was rusted, the entire area was in a state of decay. Everything was tired and worn under several layers of graffiti and dirt.

As she peered into the windows as she passed them, most of the rooms within appeared empty and run down… but one, at the very top, had signs of life, there was furniture, and very little dust. Things seemed organised and not at all the level of squalor one might expect for the area.

From his actions she had thought he would be organised and patient. She reached out and thankfully, the window was unlatched. Many people didn't regard windows as access points, though she suspected the lock was either busted or perhaps he had it ready in case of a quick exit.

Zaiya slipped inside, her hair tied in a low bun under her hood and she was dressed down in dark clothing to avoid being noticed. She had her camera ready, and snapped a few pictures as she moved through the apartment.

The place was neat. Military neat. Perhaps he was a veteran as Fives had suggested.

She moved silently, keeping herself alert in case someone decided now was the time to come home. The living space had very little to it, neither did the kitchen. Down the hall there was a bedroom with a very neatly made bed, the room, she noticed, was sparsely decorated. In fact there was only one personal item that she could see. A photograph behind an old frame. Both the photo and frame were worn at the edges as though it had been picked up and held many times.

In the picture was a woman, dark skinned and her hair in braids. She appeared to be in some kind of uniform and holding a gun, in an almost jungle-like location. There was no indication of who she was, and Zaiya could only suspect from the age of the woman and the wear on the frame that she was probably someone this General, or whoever he was, greatly cared about - a wife maybe? Judging from the age of the photo he'd not had a chance to get anything more recent, she likely wasn't around anymore.

There was no sign of anyone else here and if this guy was a serial bomber she couldn't picture him playing happy families… She snapped a picture of it in case it could help them figure out who this guy was.

There was no other information she could glean from the surroundings in here, so she moved to the rooms further into the apartment. The bathroom gave her a few more clues; pill bottles in the cabinet, mostly empty. She was careful to take pictures of all the labels and return the bottles to just where they had been. Something that was not easy to do quickly, but she knew better than to leave any sign she'd been there.

Further down the hall however, gave her far more to go on. A doorway led out and down a set of stairs. It connected to another section of the warehouse, this area was not converted into a living space, and plenty of industrial machines and a big steel bench laid out in the centre. This had to be his workshop.

Zaiya saw tools and pipes and wires, not as neat as the apartment, but there was certainly more life here. This area gave her a sense of personality, and she even spotted a couch that appeared to have been slept on. Clearly this guy was devoted to his work.

Zaiya took photo after photo, not sure what could be used, but she had to document everything. There was a smaller desk, near the couch and Zaiya realised there was an old clunky phone on the far side, sticking out under a piece of paper. Who used landline phones anymore? It seemed weird to her, but then, if he carried burner phones, there always had to be a number for people to call.

What's more, she spotted a flashing light on the front. There was a missed call and a voicemail left on the machine. This was a conundrum. What if the message was helpful? But if she listened to it… then it would no longer be an unread message and it might tip the General off that someone was snooping around. Should she listen…?

After a moment of debating, she pulled out her phone to record and tapped the 'play message' button on the front.

[You have… one… new message.] The voice was an automated female-sounding voice. There was a loud beep and Zaiya winced.

[This is Dooku,] came a booming voice through the little speaker. [I need some information about your latest contract. Someone has been talking and we need to get ahead of the situation. You know how to contact me.]

Jackpot.

There was now a solid connection between this guy and Dooku, though he didn't say anything incriminating.

BEEEP

[End of messages.]

Zaiya wondered if she was able to make the phone appear to have an unread message again, when she heard noises.

There was a clatter then a rhythmic beat… music? No, they were footsteps! Heavy footsteps!

"Shit…!" Zaiya whispered to herself and shrank against the wall, ducking under the table to try and push herself towards the exit without being seen. There was no way she'd be able to head back upstairs. There was no tellingl how close he was and if she ran, she'd definitely be heard. She had to hope her own steps were quiet enough and whoever it was hadn't heard the machine.

The far door creaked open, heavy footsteps grew closer until she saw a figure clad in military style boots, dark cargo pants and what looked like a hoodie come into view. His steps were so heavy and his boots seemed massive, a tall, yet hunched and imposing fellow. As he drew closer, all she could see was his legs as he moved around the space. A prickle began on the back of her neck, as though there was electricity in the air.

No wonder people feared him. He had an energy, like he wore a cloak of doom around his shoulders instead of that worn hoodie. Zaiya was going to have to make a break for it at some point… she would have to be silent. Wait for him to go upstairs… if he did; from the look of the couch in the corner, she was certain he slept down in the workshop.

The General stomped past her spot under the table. She was hunkered behind a box and carefully and silently manoeuvred past an unsteady stack of magazines. If she knocked anything over now… well, she was in serious trouble. This guy was a soldier and possibly a terrorist so there was a high likelihood he was armed and would kill her given the chance.

She had to make a choice: cross the wide mostly empty workshop and go for the exposed staircase and the way she knew she could escape… or head to the door he'd just entered from, which was easier to access and hope it didn't creak and that she could find her way to the exit, with a route unknown.

There were sirens in the distance and they were growing louder. The sound distraction was one she would have to take. She may not get another chance.

The sirens got louder… she had to go now.

As the sound grew ever closer, Zaiya crept quickly and quietly along the floor as the General tended to something on his workbench. She couldn't quite see it but daren't risk taking a picture. She had to go.

As the noise from what sounded like an ambulance raced by, she took advantage of the loudness and slid open the door, darting through it and closing it quietly behind her. She paused at the door as the sounds quickly faded. Had he heard?

She decided not to risk it and moved fast and careful, taking the outer part of the stairs as she descended, hoping that limited the chance of the stair creaking. She'd reached the bottom of the first set, knowing there were three more to go -when she heard the heavy footsteps again. Had he heard her? Surely not from down here…? She glanced around.

Fuck.

He was probably paranoid, what if he had hidden cameras? There were no monitors in the workshop, but she hadn't had the time to look properly.

There was no time. Zaiya increased her pace, trying to maintain stealth - until she heard the door creak loudly as it was wrenched open and thundering footfalls booming after her.

"I know you're here mousey!" the taunting voice of the General called.

Fuck!

No longer caring for silence, she bolted, taking the steps two at a time but she knew his legs were longer - she still had two flights to go!

Towards the bottom she leapt over the railing and onto the next landing, the entire stairwell echoing with the sounds of doom and death fast approaching.

"I will gut you little mouse!"

The last set was coming close but he was closer. Suddenly she heard racking coughs, and the footsteps paused in their tracks. Thank whatever God was looking out for her as Zaiya cleared the last half-flight in a leap. A heavy landing knocked the air from her lungs and it was all she could do to keep the momentum and throw her shoulder into the final door. Pain shooting up her arm but it gave with a crash.

It was much darker, and her vision was unclear but - there! Lights indicated a nearby alley and Zaiya took off sprinting. She must get as obscured as possible from those windows! She didn't know enough about him. He could be a sharpshooter for all she knew.

It was at least three blocks until she stopped running, even then, she ducked into a nearby store. She took a moment to take off her hoodie, just in case he'd seen her. To be extra cautious, Zaiya slipped out the back.

The train station was nearby, so she slowed her pace to a fast walk and tried to catch her breath. She needed to get the next train asap and get back to her bike. She knew she'd have to be mindful of a tail, but first she had to get her racing heart under control.

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It took her an hour to get back, with all the turns and misdirections she took, and she was certain that she had not been followed. Now she had to call Fives, and hope the General didn't pack up his operation and flee. If he was smart he would. She had to hope that his pride was a greater influence.

It was paranoia-inducing.

She looked over her shoulder the entire trip back. For the next few days, sleep was light and she found herself far more irritable than usual. Further to add to her stresses, when she was awoken by loud insistent knocking on her door.

Should she reach for a weapon?

No, if this truly was the General coming for her, she'd more than likely encounter a bomb on her bike or when she exited the apartment… With a shiver, she slipped from her bed and moved slowly and silently to the door. Peering through the peephole was something of a relief. Yet confusing.

It was Maul.

Notes: Hello!

Well that was stressful! But she's safe now... right? 😬

...Right? Lord... what is Maul gonna do?

We shall have to find out next time, won't we? Hopefully Maul is able to have a totally calm and civil conversation about this. Yeah that sounds accurate. He'd totally do that.

Well, I have been working away on other projects as well as this one, and I am hoping to be able to post more regarding my art about these stories and behind the scenes stuff. If you're interested in that maybe check out my Linktree: linkt dot ree forward slash kimageddon and some of the links might be interesting.
Anyway, I hope you are all doing well and I remind you that I love love comments and feedback and I appreciate every comment left on my work. If you have the time, I would appreciate it greatly!

Until next time!