Teamwork: Part 1

Finly stared out of the window into hyperspace. "The Outer Rim," he unintentionally said aloud.

Iesha looked up from the data pad she had been studying. Granger gave a quick glance in acknowledgement, then returned his attention to the ships controls. Iesha made her way to the window to also note the passing stars. "It's my first time out here. What about you?"

"Once a couple of years ago, when I was still a padawan, but not as deep as we're going now," Finly answered.

"Nobody goes as far as we are on any kind of legitimate business," Granger joined the conversation. "Where we are headed, the Republic does not exist and the Jedi have no authority."

Finly could not help, but feel a little nervous. "Then…..why are we going?"

"Because we have a mission," Granger paused. He knew that was all that ultimately needed to be said, but for the sake of reassurance, he added, "Our charge is to protect Syllian. The best defense is a good offense. One day we may have to come out here in force, but for the present we are only on a scouting mission."

Finly knew that much before he even asked, what he wanted to know was why he was here instead of Myriam or Hector or anyone more qualified to fight their way out of a tough situation. "So how far out have you been, Master?"

"I've been to the Outer Rim several times, mostly as a padawan, but some as a Knight and Master. Some places are friendly to the Republic, even desire to become full-fledged members. Some are independent allies or neutral. Some give lip-service to the Republic, just to keep us out of their hair and some… well, I do not think we even cross their minds."

"So Master Wagalog spent a lot of time out here, right?" Finly jumped at the chance to learn more about Granger's former master.

Granger turned his attention back to the controls, "right," was all he offered in response.

Iesha desperate for a change of subject, brought up a slightly new question. "Is anyone on the team from the Outer Rim?"

"Myriam is," Finly answered, "but I'm not exactly sure where. Her files are….. difficult to access."

"Yeah, I noticed that when I was doing research when the team was forming. Why would that be?" Iesha pondered.

"She came to the Jedi pretty late. Almost too old from my understanding," Granger rejoined the conversation. "Which I suppose is why Yoda took her on himself."

"Yoda….." Finly mumbled obviously awe struck.

"Finly….." Granger began a correction.

"I know, I know," Finly cut him off. "Where are you from, Iesha?"

"Corellia," she muttered.

"Oh yeah," Finly remembered, "So is Hector."

"And you are obviously Sullustan, but were you born there?" Iesha inquired of her teammate.

"Actually, my family moved to Corellia several generations ago."

"Cool," Iesha responded. "You can never have too many Correllians around."

Finly grinned and redirected his attention to Granger, "And Master, you've from Alderan? I've never been, but I hear it's beautiful."

"I am. And it is," Granger did not lift his eyes from the controls. "But I've actually only been there once since I became a Jedi."

Knowing her master did not like to talk about his family almost as much as he did not like to talk about his former master, Iesha continued the home planet discussion. "So Numa is Nanatollian, where is Hannibal from?"

"Oh he's Corusant through and through," Granger beat Finly to the answer.

"Figures," Iesha muttered.

"We'll be coming up on Markuria soon. We will land at a public space port and find a busy cantina. If it is like most planets in the Outer Rim, that is our best bet at finding information," Granger paused and studied the younger Jedi. This was actually a fairly light mission, but the potential for great danger was possible. "Remember, this is a scouting mission. Keep your eyes and ears open and your senses sharp. They neither respect nor fear Jedi here, but most will also want to avoid attention. Just mind your surroundings at all times."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The ramp of the shuttle descended. Tristan walked down followed closely by a wide-eyed Pierre. Pierre had never been off of Syllian before, much less this far from it. He looked at the group that had gathered to receive them. A well-dressed man emerged from the center. As he walked towards Tristan he spread his arms and grinned big. "Is that who I think it is?" Pierre asked slightly in awe.

"Just be cool," Tristan reassured him. Pierre took a deep breath. He was truly in the big league now.

"My brother," Vespecio wrapped his arms around Tristan at the bottom of the ramp. "You've been gone too long."

"That is for sure," Tristan answered turning towards Pierre and putting a hand on his shoulder. "This is my new right hand for Syllian business. The future of our organization."

Pierre gulped as Vespecio patted his other shoulder. "So this is the one who captured a Jedi. Too bad she got away so easily…." Vespecio gave a very serious look at the rookie, then he and Tristan burst in to laughter as the big boss gave Pierre a light punch in the chest. "Relax kid, nobody else out here can say they roped a Jedi before." He then snapped at the henchmen behind him. "Take care of our friend here. Get him settled in real good."

As the crowd left, Vespecio turned to his dear friend. "Let's you and I get a drink."

Soon Tristan was back in Vespecio's office, sitting across the desk from his boss. He eyed the spot just over Vespecio's shoulder. That was where he usually stood during official meetings. He was there to intimidate friend or foe. That was how they operated, Vespecio had enough reputation of his own to strike fear into pretty much anyone he met. But it was Tristan who could make grown men lose control of their bladders. Together they turned Vespecio's strangle hold on the system into nearly an empire. Whether people were more afraid of the boss or his enforcer, people knew who ran Markuria. The Family was more powerful than the government.

"So what's the word on Syllian?" Vespucio asked as he poured a drink.

Tristan sighed, "I'm afraid the heyday is behind us. The Jedi got it locked down, but Zeakwon's smart. He can scratch out a living for himself and keep kicking up to us. And it will be good to have a solid connect within Republic space, but we should lay low until the Jedi turn their attention elsewhere."

Vespecio let the words sink in. "This may be the first time you've let me down," he grinned, but when he saw that Tristan did not share the humor, he moved on. "Just as well, I need you back here. We have bigger problems brewing."

"The Black Sun?" Tristan raised an eyebrow as he pushed back the brim of his hat. "Heard they were up to something big.

"Yeah, we're expecting them to start making moves here any time now, but I suspect they're actually being manipulated by Jabba."

"The Hutt? The pimp's son?" Tristan was surprised at the revelation.

Vespucio laughed. "Give the slug a little credit. He's been more than just Zorbra's son for a couple of centuries now. Plus he almost has as much control over Tatooine as we have here. It's only natural that he wants to branch out a bit."

"But why here? We're pretty far from Tatooine and there's plenty of other places that would be easier to control if he only wants to expand," Tristan tried to wrap his mind around the logic.

"We and the Black Sun are his biggest competition. If he can pick a fight between us, then he can pick the bones off the leftovers."

"If we know they're being manipulated, why don't they know it?" Tristan redirected.

"There have been a few incidents in Black Sun territory recently that I think Jabba has pinned on us…..and let's be honest we do have some operations on their turf," the boss let go a light laugh.

"And they have a few here, I'm sure," Tristan agreed. "Still manipulating the Black Sun…. I thought Jabba was smarter than that. Figured he would know not to bite off even more than a Hutt could chew."

"Well," Vespucio grinned, "He wants everybody to know who has the biggest flesh-saber."

"Well obviously I do," Tristan's smile turned into a laugh when he was joined by the boss.

"I'm glad you're back,"Vespecio poured them both another drink.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Iesha surveyed the room for hundredth time. More waiting…. And the last time she was in a bar, she lost her lightsaber. She was struggling to hold onto her patience. Finly laid a small data pad on the table. "I have it configured to pick up key phrases. It can hear farther than even Jedi ears can. Maybe we can enjoy our drinks for a minute?"

Granger shrugged, "Overhearing anything is a long shot anyway."

The three Jedi sipped their drinks and stared in silence for a few minutes. There was a question burning within Iesha, but she was not sure just how too ask it. She took another sip, "Master, what is wrong about the Darkside?"

Granger was not quite sure how to take the question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean….." the padawan realized she was not quite sure how to word the question. "Why is it bad? Isn't it part of the Force too?"

Granger pondered the question. It was not a new one and possibly unanswerable, but he knew it could not be blown off. "Think of it like this," he began slowly. "If you are walking through a park at night, the path will be lighted. There may be twists and turns, but it will prove to be the 'right' way to go," the Jedi Master paused to make sure that he had her attention. "It may actually prove shorter to go off of the lighted path through the shadows, but your boots will get muddy. You will not be able to see where you are going. You may fall and hurt yourself or set yourself up for someone or something hiding in the darkness."

Iesha pondered the answer. "So let's say a person gets through the darkness a few times with minimal problems. After a few trips, won't they know the way well enough to walk it almost as well or even better than the light?"

"True," Granger pondered. "That's if they pass through the darkness unscathed the first few times. And even if they begin to make a habit of it, they are playing a dangerous game. The darkness hides much even from those who think they can see in it."

Finly intervened. "Think about this. The Darkside is fueled by a person's anger, pride, fear, hatred and whatnot. The average person in a fit of anger will get a burst of adrenaline and be able to perform with above average strength, etc. Now, a professional athlete, will train their body to perform so that they can call up superior strength, speed, and so forth when they need it. Otherwise they would have to depend on emotions to perform and of course emotions are unpredictable."

Iesha rolled the explanations around in her mind. Granger could not help, but stare at the young knight. He was impressed with Finly's insight. Their attention slowly turned back to the floor of the cantina. Finly checked his datapad. "I don't think anyone is going to talk openly about Vespecio Family business."

Granger sighed, "Tonight, I was hoping just to get a feel of the atmosphere so that as we move about later, we could know how and who to tactfully ask."

Finly scanned the floor again. He noticed a sabacc game in the corner, "Just sitting here doesn't seem to be helping. I'll be back."

Before the Master or the padawan could object, Finly rose, strode across the floor and asked the group of players, "Room for one more?"

"What do you know about these cards, fish-face?" the dealer shot back.

Finly grinned, "I played once before, think I can remember."

The gamblers glanced at each other in a mutual suppressed laugh. "Well, pull up a chair then," one of them invited.

Republic credits were not even worth as much as scrap metal in this part of the galaxy, but the deed to their ship was. It bought Finly enough chips to begin to play. After several hours, he had cleaned out most of the players that he started with and several others who had joined the game later. The last player eventually rose, and stumbled away from the table, "lucky bastard."

Finly collected his winnings and joined Granger and Iesha a few blocks from the bar. "Finly," Iesha greeted him excitedly. "That was impressive. I didn't know you knew sabacc so well."

"Eh," Finly blew off the compliment. "It's all stats and calculations. And trusting the Force to know when someone's bluffing helps too."

Granger grinned, "Did you learn anything useful?"

"Maybe," Finly began, "Nobody really talks about Vespecio business. However, he does own a major spot on the other side of the planet." He handed his winnings to Granger. "If we buy you some new clothes tomorrow, that should at least get you through the door." Iesha snickered at the thought of her master in fine attire. "And I got the names of a couple of places that I suspect his people frequent. I can see what I can pull up on them when we get back to the ship."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Finly was still scanning the databases when an obviously uncomfortably dressed Granger emerged from his quarters. "Not as roomy as Jedi robes," Granger squirmed in his suit. Finly suppressed a laugh.

A smile spread across Iesha's face. She rarely admitted it to herself, but in her personal moments, she had to confess that her feelings for her master were...complicated. Seeing her master in his distinguished, if not awkward, attire made her blush. "Let me help you out." She approached him to straighten his slightly askew tie.

They locked eyes for a moment. "Thank you," Granger muttered.

There was nothing but sincerity in his voice and Iesha knew that, however she held the gaze as long as possible. Her hands left the tie and slid down his chest. "Of course, Master." The padawan quickly turned to a nearby consul and pretended to engage in something productive.

"So where will you two be headed while I'm off being a clown?"

I ran a few places through the database," Finly began. "One that kept coming up has the highest cases of incidents on the planet."

"So you will start there then?" Granger clarified.

"It may be our second stop, "Finly seemed to think aloud more than talk. When he realized the others were waiting, he continued. "Another place that was mentioned around the sabacc table had almost no reports to the authorities…."

"But if it is so popular amongst the underworld…." Granger seemed to catch on.

"And the regulars work for the guy who controls the planet….."Iesha jumped in as well.

"Then they probably keep the business away from the 'proper' authorities," Finly concluded with a grin.

"Good work," Granger nodded in approval. "Well, I'm off. Remember, you are just observing. May the Force be with you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The transport dropped Finly and Iesha just a few blocks from the cantina. Iesha could see that her senior was bothered, but unsure how to broach the subject. "Finly, you ready for this?"

"We're just keeping our eyes open, right? No problem."

"Are you sure?" Iesha tried not to sound pushy.

"Yeah….. why do you ask?"

Iesha sighed. "There's clearly something bothering you….. not being nosy, just saying…."

Finly sighed as well. "I just….. I'm not sure why I am here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this is a dangerous mission. Why am I here instead of Myriam or Hector? They are more suited for this sort of thing….. And to be honest, I don't think Master Granger likes me….."

The pair slowed as they approached the door of the cantina. Iesha laughed aloud at the idea of her Master not liking anyone. "You're kidding right? Who is better suited for this mission? You found this place, didn't you? Master knows that. He has a gift for seeing people's strengths. And sure, maybe he finds some of your questions annoying at times, but he knows you are a valuable member of this team. Or trust me you would not be here."

Finly pondered the argument. "Maybe….."

"No maybe," Iesha continued. "Your Darkside explanation is possibly the best I've heard. Even my Master was impressed. I could tell. Trust me."

Finly grinned, "Thanks, Iesha. I needed to hear that."

"No problem. And thank you," she reassured her teammate.

"Thanks for what?"

"Thank you for calling me Iesha, not just padawan."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Granger cautiously made his way through the front of the club. He tried not to look uncomfortable or out of place, but even deep breathing and attempting to center himself around the living Force were little help against the tight suit he had wedged himself into. He found the central bar and as casually as he could leaned himself against it to order a drink. "What ya havin?" the bartender inquired.

'Ummmmm….." Granger tried to sound like he was thinking instead of hesitating. He also tried not to appear rushed without taking too long. Everything was a delicate balance. He finally decided on something that sounded sophisticated. Within seconds, he had his drink. He tried again to act natural. The Jedi Master nodded at passing people that he sensed were important and the beautiful women who did not appear to be with someone else. Some of them smiled back. Some walked as though they never saw him. He tried to visualize the countless men he had observed in cantinas and clubs like this one and mimic their behavior. For some reason, his mind turned to Tristan. He envisioned himself standing as Tristan. Drinking like Tristan. It then occurred to him that the only time he had ever observed the elusive right-hand-man of Vespecio was in the courtyard on Syllian. Then it hit him that the Force was speaking to him. He's here.

Granger repressed his excitement and slowly scanned the crowd. He could not see Tristan anywhere, but he was compelled toward a corner of the main floor. He made his way slowly in the direction of a crowd of mostly men around the table. His eyes fell on a familiar face. Even without the black hat, Granger recognized the man who imprisoned his padawan. Granger wondered if there was any chance that the enforcer had seen his face. Was Zeakwon working whole-heartedly for the Jedi? What could he have told his bosses?

Granger almost decided to keep his distance when he noticed the well-dressed man with which Tristan was mostly conversing. The Jedi Master's first thought was Pierre, but the mystery man was far too old. He appeared to be somewhat important. Could this be Vespecio himself? No way Granger could leave now. He made his way closer to the crowd.

The excitement centered around a sabacc game in progress. Granger eased his way next to Tristan. "Who's ahead?"

Tristan eyed the newcomer carefully. "We betting on the players. For the moment our guy's up."

"Mind if I get in?" Granger reached in his suit for a wad of credits.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

As soon as she entered the cantina, Iesha felt something that she had never experienced. A wave of familiarity came crashing down on here. The feeling was not déjà vu, but there was definitely a sense of recognition. The Force was definitely trying to tell or warn her about something, but she had never been hit with it like this before. "What's wrong?" Finly's voice interrupted her thoughts.

The padawan had not realized that she had frozen in her tracks. "I don't know….. I sense something…... something familiar…"

Finly resisted the urge to reach for his data pad and visually scanned the room. "Any idea what?"

Iesha shook her head as much to clear her mind as to answer "no" to the question. "Let's just find a table."

The pair found an empty table in the middle of traffic. It was not the ideal spot for laying low, but it did put them within ear shot of the various bar conversations. As discreetly as possible, Finly began an extended scan of the room through his data pad. He did not really expect to find anything useful, but he hoped that he could get a better feel of the place. Iesha scanned the room with her eyes and attempted to stretch out her senses through the Force. She thought about the sensation at the door. She thought about her prison break. She wasn't feeling anything in the cantina now. Lately it felt like the Force was using her more than she was using it. Maybe that is how she should feel. Maybe that is how it was supposed to work. Maybe she was maturing in her abilities and did not even realize it. Was she closer to becoming a knight than even she realized? Her eyes found a lively sabacc table. There was nothing unusual about it, the usual ruckus. However, as she observed the players and spectators, the sensation of familiarity returned. She slowly scanned each face, searching for one she recognized. Finally, she found one, Pierre's.

"Bastard!" Finly nearly dropped his data pad and fell from his seat as Iesha screamed, leaping from her chair, and the green blade of her lightsaber sprung to life.

Pierre overcame his momentary shock at the outburst and grinned in delight as he and his comrades drew their blasters. The surrounding spectators were also delighted. Most had never seen a Jedi, or at least not in this part of the galaxy. Did the young girl have a deahwish? Iesha could think of nothing, but Pierre. She was consumed by thoughts of revenge. The last time they met, he was unarmed. Now she had her lightsaber and he was the one holding the blaster. This was the moment she had dreamed of.

There was still half a bar between the padawan and the sabacc players when she met the first barrage of blaster fire. Iesha deflected the blasts either back into the respective shooters or the floor of the cantina. Blocking the blasts slowed her advance and she knew that she could move faster if she was not careful with her deflections. Nearly everyone in the bar had to be guilty of something. There were no innocent bystanders that she should be concerned for. However, her composure had not completely departed. Surprisingly, her anger seemed to help her focus. She had only one goal, but she was not so far gone that she completely disregarded her training. The anger also gave her a surge of power like she had never felt. She enjoyed the feeling. Too bad that once she killed Pierre her anger would be over and this power would come to an end.

This was exactly the situation that Finly had hoped to avoid, but he knew that he could not allow his fear to win the battle within him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Although no time seemed to have passed, when he opened his eyes, he was next to Iesha with the green beam of his saber also deflecting blasts. "Have you lost your mind?"

"It's Pierre," Iesha tried to point with her voice. As the pair inched toward her goal.

"I see that," Finly shot back. "I can sense your anger. Are you using the froshin' Darkside?"

Iesha was not ready for the question. Finly was worried about the Darkside while they stared down the man who….who…. What exactly had he done to her? He stunned her. She had been roughed up, but not severely beaten. He tried to starve her. He had not raped her although she knew that he thought about it and had threatened to. Certainly that bothered her, but what was she really angry about? He had not respected her as a Jedi. She was not a Jedi. Pierre had called her a padawan. Actually, he had not, Crad did and he was already dead. She was a padawan. A padawan who was endangering her mission. A padawan who had placed the life of a fellow Jedi in great danger. A padawan who still had a lot to learn about the Force.

Iesha stopped dead in her tracks. She nudged her head towards a side door. "We should probably get out of here."

"After them," Pierre barked as the two Jedi made a run for their escape.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Granger had been betting on hands for nearly an hour. He followed Finly's advice, mostly about relying on the Force and not attempting to calculate odds. Tristan, his well-dressed associate, and several other observers were now following his bets. The crowd seemed to part slightly as another well-dressed man hurriedly made his way to Tristan's other side. The new arrival whispered something obviously important in Tristan's ear. Slight concerned crossed the henchman's face before he matter-of-factly whispered to his boss, "The Jedi are here."

"Poodoo," Granger unintentionally mumbled just loud enough to catch all three men's attention.

"What's it to you, friend?" Tristan eyed Granger carefully.

Without hesitation, Granger began to gather his winnings from the table. "They must have found me."

Tristan and Vespecio eyed each other carefully. The boss gave a slight nod. "Come with me," Tristan whispered forcefully, showing his blaster beneath his jacket.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Iesha held her lit saber firmly behind her back as she ran. She hated the idea of running from a fight, but she hated even more that it was a fight she had started. A Jedi uses their lightsaber primarily for defense, Master Granger's training echoed in her mind. Be careful using it aggressively. This is often from the Darkside. She heard Finly's panting as they ran. Are you using the froshin' Darkside? She knew he could use a rest, but the occasional blast from behind told her that they had not run far enough. "Just a little farther," she urged her comrade. "We'll find a good place to hide or make a stand."

The pair continued their flight. They rounded a corner and were suddenly hit by what they both knew to be a blast from the Force. Finly landed squarely on the ground while Iesha hit the wall of the building. Their eyes focused on Granger standing in the middle of the alley with Tristan standing next to him, blaster drawn. "How did you Jedi find me?" Granger asked pretending to be angry while hoping that they would play along.

Finly sprang to his feet, before Iesha could respond. "Come quietly, you rogue!" He charged dramatically as Tristan raised his blaster to fire. His saber absorbed a couple of blasts while Granger eyed the weapon in the gangster's hand. It suddenly exploded.

Tristan doubled over in agony with his hand cradled in his chest. "Go," Granger mouthed to his teammates and pointed with his eyes farther down the alley.

Pierre and crew rounded the corner soon after the pair disappeared from sight. Without raising his hand, Granger used a Force push to trip one of the larger thugs, knocking over most of the group. They quickly recovered to notice the injured Tristan.

Still favoring his wounded hand, Tristan straightened himself and turned to Granger. "Talk fast. Who are you?" He nodded at the spot where Finly had fallen. "How did you do that?"