Chapter 107
The large enclosed speeder was one of three mini-bus sized flying vehicles that approached the palace.
It was escorted by a half squadron of militarized speeders of the same type that had ambushed us on the brezak. Every single soul that was currently in the procession of guarding and delivering Scintel back to the palace had been seemingly vetted by Koltal and from what both Anakin and I could sense, he had been right on the money. There was no cunning plot, assassin, bomber or anything of that nature during the flight.
The speeder touched down on the royal landing pad and we had to wait for the flying escorts to establish a proper perimeter in the airspace before the doors opened.
I slung Anakin's good arm around my shoulders and Scintel naturally preceded us.
Five big bodyguards formed a wall of bodies around her before they rushed out as a single unit, sprint walking as quickly as they could across the windy landing pad and into the relative safety of the palace again.
It was our turn and we had to go slower in deference to Anakin's injuries.
Those injuries were quite real, which I had inflicted on him to help sell the notion that our fall into the water had cost something and was not a miraculous escape.
His right arm was bound and immobilized with a makeshift sling using supplies from the house we had broken into, creating a suitable look for him.
'Still think you enjoyed it a little too much, Snips,' he groused at me as we were halfway across the pad. 'Revenge for my behavior in portraying, Alad. I thought you were a Jedi. Now you've gone all Sith on me.' His mental pout in my direction was ridiculous.
I bore the teasing stoically, this only deserved one thing. I used the Force to give him a slight kinetic poke into his ribs. He twitched and winced, disguising it as pain from walking with bad ribs. 'Skyguy, you might be wearing multiple masks of behavior, even to me. You might shut me out of the Apprentice Bond, but the sheer fact that you do it and the timing of it, doesn't stop me from deducing things.'
He mentally rolled his eyes at me. 'Snips, you don't exactly make it easy.'
'I suppose not, but I can't exactly do a half-assed job of this infiltration, now can I? Besides, that's half of what the bond with Padme is for.'
His silence was very telling.
'You're kidding. She slammed the door on you?' I asked, mentally poking my own bond with the woman and getting the same result.
I generally checked up on her every third day, running probability lines for possible dangers to her that the back and forth tussle between me and Palpatine was causing in the tapestry of time. It was not easy, especially when so much distance separated us and she was within the Shroud on Coruscant.
'It started a few days ago. She was preoccupied and very worried about something, but didn't want me in turn to worry about it. It was a personal matter that she felt she could handle. Apparently an old handmaiden from her time as queen wanted to meet her urgently.'
'That's the worst thing she could say,' I thought with exasperation.
'Exactly,' he thought as we passed through the door and into the palace.
Scintel was waiting with only two bodyguards, but there was now a waiting med tech with a hover chair for Anakin.
"Off you go, Alad, you're getting the best medical treatment on the planet in the royal sickbay."
"Thank you, majesty," he said with visible relief and sank himself carefully into the chair, where a localized forcefield shimmered over his body to support and effectively cushion him.
"Come along, Atre, I need to get to my residence," Scintel said imperiously and began walking with her bodyguards in tow.
I obeyed with a bow and noted with approval how one bodyguard paused to let me go ahead of him, clearly wanting to keep an eye on me.
Anyone we passed in the palace immediately jumped to the side and bowed, their eyes wide with wonder. It made me think about what the general rumor grapevine was saying amongst not just the palace staff and government, but also the zygerrian public as a whole.
I could practically feel the shift of emotion throughout the entire structure as word began spreading that the queen was actually back.
Back in the royal apartments, for the next two hours I helped Scintel get back into courtly attire and makeup as befitting her status. Zygerrian refresher-showers used a combination of air, sonic and minimal water. The sonic part of that thankfully meant that she couldn't invite me to share a shower with her.
My own turn in the shower was exclusively using the water, but it wasn't as thorough or satisfying as I'd like. There was no cascade of water above my head. At best it gave out a light spray from the sides.
When we finally emerged from the apartments and into the throne room, Scintel was back in her green and gold royal dress, makeup and jewelry. Nothing to hint that anything had gone wrong in the last few days. She also naturally took some delight in the opportunity to dress me up in attire that once again did its best to show me off as her slave, which was a definite thing in zygerrian culture.
It actually covered more skin, but somehow felt worse in a way. She had seemingly taken some queues from our host in the pleasure district and now I was in a number that to my mind felt belonged in some pleasure dungeon.
'Now I just need a whip,' I thought sarcastically as I stood at the bottom step of the throne with a bowed head.
Even the ever paranoid Minister Koltal was sending me signals through his emotions that he appreciated Scintel's efforts with me.
He was walking with the aid of a fancy cane that could apparently transform itself into emergency seating should he get tired of lugging around the bacta cast on his lower right leg.
"Majesty, I apologize for being unable to bow properly."
Scintel waved it off, shaking her head, "Let's not stand on ceremony now, after all this. I trust we are secure in the throne room?"
"If we can still be overheard at this point, then they deserve to listen to us, majesty," Koltal sighed wearily. The zygerrian was very tired and operating on just a few hours of sleep.
She nodded, not happy at the notion, "First, you will tell me what you released to the public as an explanation?"
"As I'm sure you can imagine, your highness. The idea that the Trak are back and had managed to infiltrate to the degree that they did, is not exactly an image we can present to the public at large. Most would not believe it, thinking we were making it up as a smokescreen for the truth. Those who do believe it would begin to feel levels of paranoia that would make them start to suspect their neighbors or the person they passed on the street being the enemy. They'd also start to suspect their household slaves of secretly being in league with the Trak."
Scintel nodded at his reasoning, "As much as I hate it, you make fair points. So… you probably didn't say it outright, but strongly implied that it's Republic agitators?"
"You know me too well, majesty. It is far more palatable to believe such an obvious external enemy is to blame. We are part of the CIS, though we only announced it a few months ago. The speed of their infiltration could be explained away as just the supernatural influence of the Jedi agents they make use of."
'Yes, blame the Jedi, so much easier than just looking in the mirror and seeing the monster staring back,' I thought sarcastically.
"That will work then for the public, but what about the government?"
"To maintain security we will have to limit the knowledge there as well. Until I can investigate and vet a new inner circle."
"How long?"
"Ordinarily it would take years, but as we don't have the time… I'll see if it can't be done within two days. Whoever replaces the Intelligence and Planetary Defense ministers will by convention need to be in the inner circle if we're to root out further Trak infiltration in the greater government and society at large, majesty. I also think we need to bring in at least two more trustworthy individuals into the inner circle."
"Minister, keeping secrets is bad enough amongst three, now you want to make it five?"
"The Trak was one lucky shot away from entirely wiping out your inner circle, majesty. At which point you would've been truly alone and at their mercy. At this point we must make it harder and harder for them to wipe out knowledge of their reemergence."
"Very well, I just don't see how you're going to manage it."
"Let's just say I've been looking at possible replacements for a few years, just as a contingency, your highness," he said, becoming suspiciously evasive and even uncomfortable.
"Just when I thought you hadn't reached peak paranoia, Koltal. You manage to surprise me," Scintel chuckled with a smirk. "Now, what are we going to do to take the fight to the Trak?"
"This is not going to be an open war, your majesty. It will be a war in the dark, with knives, blasters, poison and the occasional bomb. Our people will be fighting with no real clue as to the bigger picture besides the fake one we give them. It will be a war of intelligence and investigation. We somehow need to make every loyal zygerrian citizen our eyes and ears, I've got some ideas on that, but it's best discussed by the new inner circle when it convenes properly."
Scintel eventually nodded, "I had hoped things would be more straightforward, but it's not like the Trak have a city or headquarters to attack. In the past, they claimed the city state of Galat as their home."
"Yes, now I remember, in the northern Telles continent. There's nothing but ruins left of that place."
"Thank our ancestors for that. Now the Trak has grown like weeds amongst us that pretend to be flowers."
"To carry the metaphor further, majesty. We'll do our utmost to pull them out without destroying the flower bed."
"That is something we must be especially mindful of. Now, what else must be brought to my attention?"
Koltal sighed, looking quite reluctant, "What I say next, I'm not definitely sure about, your highness. Verstet noticed something odd about the body of Minister Ralenn and the scene of the crime in general. It led me to order a detailed examination and analysis, including an autopsy."
I felt Scintel's emotions dip considerably and she visibly struggled to keep her composure. She coughed into her hand, steeling herself, "Carry on."
"The analysis revealed that the Ralenn we found, the one killed in her office, was a clone."
"WHAT?!" Scintel bellowed, her eyes widening in astonishment. "That's… how… Are you telling me that Ralenn has been replaced by a clone for stars knows how long and we didn't even notice?!"
"No, I don't think that, majesty. Further testing revealed that the clone had until recently been kept in stasis. I believe the most likely scenario is that Minister Ralenn is actually still alive and the clone was placed there to make us believe she was actually dead. It was clearly meant to delay us looking any closer at the circumstances and it meant there was a period of time where the Trak could make use of Ralenn, her knowledge, access codes and everything else she was privy to."
Scintel gritted her teeth, "She's still in their hands, somewhere."
My own mind was reeling from the idea that the Trak had somehow gained access to cloning tech. The kaminoans had more clients than just the Republic, but they were very picky about who those clients were. You couldn't just show up with a ton of credits and expect them to jump to your demands. So either the Trak had made a compelling argument somehow or the kaminoans themselves had an agenda here. Unless…
There was another little known fact from the days of the Old Republic, that just before the Rusaan Reformation, a near-human society called the Khomm had developed and perfected their own version of cloning technology. To this day, the Khommites only reproduced by cloning themselves, creating 'perfected' individuals in a rigid 'perfected' society which had been set in stone for a thousand years at this point. They didn't even change their own names beyond advancing the number behind it to indicate the next generation of clone.
This cloning technology was specialized to the Khommites. It could create a new clone within less than a year, the mind of the clone flash programmed in a very familiar way, to me at least. Many would study Khommite cloning over the centuries, but the feat of replicating it for other species eluded many questing bio-scientists of the galaxy. Until… a relatively small company on Cartao, in the northern Expansion Region, had made a breakthrough - they had cracked the Knommite cloning technology - a company called, Spaarti Creations.
When this would happen was difficult to pin down, I had researched many topics of critical interest over the years and Spaarti cloning cylinders was just one in a very long list.
It had either been done just prior to the Clone Wars or during it, because I knew Palpatine would make use of it soon to bolster the flagging numbers of Kamino clones near the end of the war. It would also be used to boost the early numbers of Imperial stormtroopers after the New Order arose.
Now the question was, could the Trak also have learned about Spaarti somehow?
I watched as Koltal nodded, "That is my conclusion as well. They had to realize we would eventually discover the truth, just not this quickly. In that way, we may still have a chance of finding her."
Scintel was now really on a rollercoaster of emotion; first hope that her best friend was still alive, then despair at the thought that she was a captive, "She could be anywhere on the planet by now and soon we will have no choice but to lift the grounding of all ships."
"Minister Kendac is the next petitioner outside the door," Koltal jerked his thumb towards the large doors of the throne room.
Kendac was the Minister of Aliens. It said something about the zygerrian mindset that the title of someone who was meant to interact with foreign governments and offworlders, something almost everyone would call a 'foreign minister' or 'external affairs', was given such a brief, vulgar title.
"No doubt begging me to lift the blockade so he can get some peace and quiet," Scintel laughed hollowly.
"Quite, he's also had to field two calls from Dooku."
She thought for a moment, "So now he also knows the official story. Do you think he believed it?"
"It would depend on what the CIS spies have seen."
"How certain are you that you've truly spotted them all?"
"One can never be 100% certain in this business, your majesty, but I'm confident we can control the reports they give to a degree."
"Do everything you can, minister. The last thing we want is to have Dooku or a CIS warship over our heads."
"I will, majesty."
"I also want you to focus all your efforts on tracking down Ralenn. If we can somehow find her, perhaps we can get a significant lead on the Trak."
"As you order, majesty."
"Is that all?"
"For the moment, your highness."
"You're dismissed, send in Minister Kendac."
Koltal slightly bowed his head with a wince, before hobbling awkwardly out of the throne room.
On the other hand, I had a new problem. It wouldn't be long before Dooku had a holographic conversation with Scintel. That I could deduce without prescience. Exploring the probability lines, showed that the call would come in the late evening due to relative planetary time differences. I would have to come up with a plausible excuse to be absent.
The lines where I managed that were good enough to protect me, but Dooku would still be able to assess Scintel through the Force. I knew he was good enough with Remote Force manipulation to strangle someone through a comlink. Therefore he could easily read Scintel's raw emotions and instantly deduce there was something wrong with the queen.
It would be enough for him to probe deeper to see if there was something wrong enough that would upset their plans for Zygerria as a whole.
Now, I had to somehow protect her in a way that would not be obvious to Dooku.
I explored ideas and probability lines…
Would that work… no. Still suspicious. Could I use battle meditation to soothe her spirit somehow? Thereby calming her mind…
The problem was that it would probably be picked up by Dooku that something was happening to her through the Force if I actively had her in a battle meditation during the conversation.
I needed a way…
It was just a thought, a notion that popped into my head at the thought of how you could make someone calm in a lasting manner…
The probability line unfurled and was successful!
But…
Frak!
Miraj's eyes fluttered open, at first wondering what had woken her up from her early afternoon nap.
Then a cascade of sensation seemed to flow over every fiber of her being.
Her golden eyes widened as she took in just who was opposite her in bed.
Who her arms were wrapped around.
"Ralenn?" she gasped in astonishment.
It was undoubtedly her best childhood friend and her most secret unrequited love. The lustrous brown fur, the haunting silver eyes, plumped lips that were smirking now before darting forward and capturing her own in a mind searingly good kiss.
Miraj couldn't help but moan wantonly as their mouths opened to each other, their tongues lapping and dueling upon one another.
The question of how she was here vanished from her mind.
There was no thought of her disappearance and capture.
Miraj hugged her lover with every bit of strength she had as another climax shuddered through her, it stole her breath away even as her mouth was still being occupied in the delightful sensations that was happening between them.
She couldn't moan or scream, she could simply exist and twitch as she was wrapped in chains of pleasure that she never wanted to escape from.
Her lungs should've been gasping for air at this point, yet there was seemingly no need. Her rational mind rebelled against the incongruity for just a moment before it was chased away in annoyance.
Finally, Ralenn had mercy, releasing the kiss and her burning hands retreated.
Miraj could only exist in a puddle of boneless pleasure on her right side, whilst her lover idly traced her fingers along the edges of her body and hips.
Her mind was cast back to the last time they did something like this, as they were just coming into adulthood, their curiosity unable to resist and it was the day their deep friendship morphed into something more. They both knew that nothing could come of it. She would be queen and eventually be expected to produce an heir. They couldn't even risk being mistresses to each other in secret, as the palace just had too many tools of surveillance hidden beyond the royal apartments. Frequent visits would be noticed and eventually the correct conclusions drawn.
Miraj came back to herself and hated that she was going to break the wondrous spell of the aftermath with awful reality.
She met Ralenn's eyes, staring deep into those lovely orbs that looked back with an unfathomable mystery that she never could find the words for. "How are you here?"
"That's the first question you ask, Mira?"
The old childhood nickname that always annoyed her, but Ralenn had always continued to use it anyway. "Of course, you were kidnapped!"
"That is certainly the case, from your point of view, I suppose. Why bring the awful reality up at this moment?"
"How can there be a point of view to this?"
"Look around you, where do you think we are?"
Miraj felt frustration bubbling up, but nevertheless complied… It was her bedroom in the royal apartments. "My bedroom, so what?"
"Look closer, the painting over my right shoulder."
She rolled her eyes, humoring her friend and stared at the landscape painting of the Arlol Highlands, their picturesque distant mountain ranges with snow capped mountains. The grassy rolling hills in the foreground with wild blurrgs roaming in small packs. The painting was so real and well done that she felt she was looking at a window.
It happened quickly, between one eyeblink and the next.
Now there was no longer a soft bed under their entwined bodies, but rippling grass and open sky above. The wonderful breeze washed over them and it should've been biting cold, but was instead a pleasant, caressing warmth.
She sat up gasping and panicked, looking around at the grassy field and searching for the palace interior, which had impossibly vanished.
Her arms instinctually sought to preserve modesty and she frantically scanned around for any who could be a witness to this indiscretion.
Ralenn simply chuckled in amusement and rolled over onto her back, interlacing her hands behind her head.
Miraj glared, "This isn't funny. How did we get out here?"
Now Ralenn roared with laughter, slapping the grass, "Ha ha, oh dear. Wheee. That's my Mira, so dense when she wants to be."
"Don't call me dense!" she snapped.
"Dense, dense, dense," Ralenn teasingly sang.
Miraj slapped her friend in annoyance right on the stomach.
"Ow," she cringed, rubbing the spot. "Seriously, Mira. We were on a bed in the royal apartments, now we're out here, in the real landscape of a painting that doesn't even exist in your bedroom. Put those facts together and what do you get?"
Miraj pulled her legs in to get into a proper seated position, folding her arms, "I- I don't know. We were drugged? This is a hallucination?"
"No," Ralenn gestured grandly to the landscape around them. "You're dreaming of course, silly Mira."
She frowned, skeptical, and brushed her hands through the grass, smelled the air with all its myriad natural scents, and listened to the soft breeze, carrying the calls of distant avian fauna. "Feels real to me."
"Dreams often do."
"I don't remember any dream I've had feeling like this."
"Ah ha," Ralenn smirked, holding up a pointed finger. "There's the keyword, remember. Can you truly say you remember any specific dream? Sure, there will be few memorable ones, you can give a vague overview of it, but you can't be specific on all its details. Other dreams just wash away on the shores between conscious and subconscious."
Miraj frowned, staring hard around her, looking around for inconsistency and with frustration found nothing readily apparent. She looked down at her friend, trying her best to ignore their state of dress and the slowly simmering feelings that the sight immediately provoked.
"And you're not Ralenn then, are you?"
Her 'friend' clapped, "Give her a prize. I'm not the real Ralenn. At the moment, she's at the tender mercies of the Trak. I am the Ralenn that lives on in you. Your memory of her, spun up and given form, it's all very complicated."
She spun the concept around in her head, "So you're not Ralenn, but in a way you actually are her, but you could also just be my subconscious."
"Complicated, as I said."
"Why?"
"Now that is the right question," Ralenn smiled with delight. "Why would your mind dream this up? Was it only to bring me forth to have a bout of passionate embrace again? A deep desire that now can never happen again? Do you fear that I might actually be dead? Despite that it seems I was merely cloned to fake my death and kidnapped. Do you worry that this is just another layer of deception the Trak are spinning for Koltal and for you? Whilst you are running around in circles looking for the real me, the Trak will have a freer hand to act as they see fit."
"How could I possibly know or answer that?" Miraj asked with exasperation.
"Hey, this is your mind. You're trying to sort things out for yourself."
"Well, I'm clearly doing a bad job of it," she groused, hugging her own legs and resting her head on her knees.
"I can tell you one thing you need to do right now."
"Oh, and what is that?"
"Make peace with the possibility that I might be dead."
"No," she said flatly.
"You must."
"No!"
"Holding on to me is the worst thing you can do right now."
Miraj turned to glare at the memory of Ralenn, "Why?"
"Dooku."
"What about him?"
"Do I really have to spell it out for you?! He's a former Jedi Master at the head of a newly formed interstellar empire, which you tethered the Zygerrian Empire to as a vassal state! Jedi have supernatural abilities that were clearly recorded in the histories. Do you really think that Dooku has forsworn use of those abilities? He walks around still carrying his lightsaber. By the void, think! If he sees you distraught and troubled because of me, he will sense weakness. You will be dangling a chain for him to grab and pull you in deeper."
She winced as the rightness of her friend's words washed over her. All her years of comportment and political training had just seemed to fly out the window lately.
"You're right and I hate it."
"It's fine to hate it, but let it go. He'll sense that too."
"Even though I'm on a holocall?"
"What is a holo, but a full construct of light in three dimensions, a representation of you in every detail. The exact same thing he'd have if was actually standing in the throne room. Jedi perceive the smallest detail when they want to, details we're not even aware we're sending."
"How can you know that?" Miraj asked suspiciously.
"You've read the histories, it's all there in your subconscious, even though you can't readily recall them. And I am your subconscious, from a certain point of view."
She sighed, hiding her face on her knees. If this was a dream, wouldn't it mean I could change everything around here and even my own form?
"You could, but your mindset isn't right for that at the moment."
She slapped Ralenn on the shoulder this time, "Stop that."
The memory of her friend sat up, scooted closer and enveloped her in a hug from behind.
The feeling of it was a burning pleasure all along her back and she couldn't help but relax into it.
"Now listen carefully, Mira."
"Cursed tiny felinoids," Chewie muttered to himself.
He was reduced to working on the computer terminal with just two fingers and it was making things go so much slower.
'You should get yourself some cybernetics, Chewbacca,' R2-D2 trilled in Binary.
The astromech was plugged into the logic port of the new guest quarters their little 'group' from the House of Iballa had been assigned. It fit the bill of sleeping accommodation, but it also had extensive network interfaces and terminals in an adjoining room. It technically belonged to Minister Koltal's security ministry and was meant to house network security specialists in isolation and where an eye could be kept on them. The only problem being that Zygerria didn't really have anyone native who could compete with network and info security standards as it was known among the Core Worlds and other highly developed worlds of the galaxy.
"As handy as that would be at the moment, my wife would kill me," he said, as the program on the screen in front of him finally compiled, with more than a little help from R2.
Cybernetics wasn't common at all in wookiee culture, as they preferred to keep their tools outside of their skin. Anyone who lost a limb, could have it replaced, but that was as far as it went. There were a few Claatuvac navigators who had wookiee-adapted data halos surgically attached, but those were extreme edge cases and those madclaws barely left the guild trees for any reason, interacting only with who they had to.
'Program is executing, it'll take a few minutes,' R2 said, unable to prevent the Binaric blurt that betrayed his feelings of the systems they were working with.
Chewie nodded and stretched his arms, keeping a wary eye on the astromech.
Something he had resolved to do after seeing the very creative performance the droid gave during the battle for the palace.
He knew there was a definite advantage to having control of a battlefield, something Ahsoka had told him to always strive for if he ever found himself in such a situation where he was in command of wookiees again, but R2 had taken it to a whole new level.
The droid had weaponized the battlefield itself.
Selective door locking, and making use of the mounted hidden turret weaponry, herding Trak straight into ambushes set by the security forces. R2 had taken out a fair number of them, but they smoothly adapted, showing the advantage of fighting in your own home tree. They knew where the turrets were and also used the secret tunnels throughout the palace extensively.
But they had to emerge from them at some point and their masks were only cosmetic, not protecting them against flashing lights to extreme illumination and given the hypersensitive zygerrian eyes, it was extremely debilitating to them.
He even used the palace PA system to emit sound frequencies that were even worse.
The only reason that the battle hadn't been a complete 'cakewalk' for palace security, was the fact that R2 had to turn off his tricks when they arrived.
'Program complete, we have 73.2% restoration.'
Chewbacca resisted the urge to smash his fist against the desk he was sitting behind. He was not in an environment built to wookiee standards.
"Can we actually do better at this point?"
'It's certainly possible, but we're only looking at increments of extra data that might be restored. The virus the Trak uploaded was simple and primitive by my standards, but it did its job. We're only going to get diminishing returns in restoring the surveillance database.'
"Did we at least get back everything from the day of the battle?"
'Scanning… yes, but there are corrupted sectors.'
"It's something, at least." Chewie lightly slapped his shoulder slung utility belt in the appropriate spot, engaging the hidden comlink. "Master Verstet. We are ready."
Stupid cover identity name, he could barely manage stringing those phonemes together in Shyriiwook to even approximate what it sounded like. It was completely alien to the wookiee tongue.
Obi-Wan entered the room and R2 helpfully brought up the multitude of surveillance feeds that had been restored, displaying them into a giant compound holo screen, which the droid projected from the emitter on top of his domed head.
"Ah, well done, Chewie, R2," he said absently, his eyes already scanning the multitude of smaller screens, each showing an individual sensor feed. "Let's focus on the feeds around the offices of the two murdered ministers and Minister Koltal, filter out the rest."
A multitude of feeds vanished and the screens resized, now displaying the feeds from eighteen sensors.
"That's better, go back to six hours from the point I was taken to Minister Koltal's office."
The screens flashed and blurred as R2 went directly to the time in question.
"Scan from that point forward, pause for any movement."
The first pause came at 40 minutes outside Minister Gadrad's office, but it was just a slave doing cleaning.
More pauses came at all three locations, including points of blank and corrupted data, but nothing appeared suspicious until a mere twenty minutes before Obi-Wan was forcibly taken to Koltal.
Three masked figures appeared in the frame, all armed, outside of Minister Ralenn's office. The biggest one of which was carrying a long black bag with a heft and shape that clearly indicated a body was inside.
"Well, there's the Trak that placed the cloned body," Obi-Wan commented with a sigh, watching them move from one feed to another, until they were at the door of the office.
One of the Trak, with a female body size and proportion, tapped in a code to open it.
"Pause it there," Obi-Wan said flatly, staring. "R2, rewind 3 seconds and play the female tapping in the code again."
The droid complied and Chewie stared hard, trying to see what the undercover Jedi had seen that made him so fixated on the moment.
Obi-Wan scratched his beard in thought. Then he lowered his hand and began making subtle hand signals at his hip.
Chewie did his best to see them out of the corner of his eye.
'R2, surveillance, immediate, question,' Obi-Wan signed.
R2 used the holo projector beside his forward main eye to project a tiny screen, at an angle that only the two of them would be able to see. A rendered human hand began returning signs.
'Koltal, listening and watching, angle of surveillance unable to detect visual hand signals.'
'Without displaying on any screen, analyze female zygerrian body proportions.'
"Resume R2," Obi-Wan ordered aloud.
The three Trak entered and while there were no visual sensors inside the Minister of Intelligence's office, the door was left wide open for a partial view of them setting up the supposed 'death' of Minister Ralenn.
'Proportions analyzed with 97 percent accuracy,' R2 signed
Obi-Wan was deceptively casual in demeanor as he signed, 'Reference earlier footage from two days ago, analyze body proportions of Minister Ralenn, compare.'
Chewie froze as he interpreted the sign language. It was still something rather new to him and he didn't consider himself properly proficient in it. Had he made a mistake? He carefully recalled the signs Obi-Wan had used and confirmed with himself twice. Yes, that's what the Jedi had asked.
It was a deceptively simple task for R2, which he finished in less than a second. 'Analysis and comparison complete…'
At this point, even the astromech paused, as if he couldn't believe his own analysis and was in shock. Chewie knew that R2 was far from a normal astromech at this point and could tell that the droid had not undergone a standard memory wipe in a long time.
'... shows 95 percent match.'
'Error factor?'
'3 percent.'
Chewie felt his mind stall somewhere before the implications exploded.
He turned to look at Obi-Wan properly and saw the Jedi look as normal as ever.
"Show me Gadrad's office now," he said, closing his eyes briefly.
Chewie turned to face his terminal, going back into the recompiler program that they had written. Was there a mistake?
He brought up the code and stared at line after line, even though it was probably futile. If R2 couldn't find a problem, he wasn't going to.
The inescapable conclusion reared to the fore of his mind.
Ralenn was not a kidnapping victim.
She had actually staged her own death.
Ralenn, the Minister of Zygerrian Intelligence, the best friend of Queen Scintel, was part of the Trak abolitionist movement.
Chewie was torn between being astonished at the revelation or aghast at the implications of what it would mean for the possible success of their overall mission.
'Are you sure about this?'
Anakin stared at his old master from his bed in the royal sickbay. His back was propped up on numerous cushions to soften the strain on his still healing collar bone. It was so tempting to fall into the trance and speed the whole process up, but the bed below was full of medical sensors that would quickly pick up on an unnaturally fast healing process.
He twitched, reflexively adjusting the bacta cast that encased his entire right arm, shoulder and part of his upper body. There was an abominable itch that kept returning every few minutes on that arm, never in the same spot. A brief use of internal Control dealt with it, but he did not have Ahsoka's medical acumen.
'I've reviewed the footage and even had R2 compare it to other public video samples of Ralenn. His matching index is always in the high ninety percent, no matter how we run it. I've studied it extensively as well and must conclude with certainty that Minister Ralenn is indeed part of the Trak. She faked her own death using a clone and if my reading of the body language is correct, she is undoubtedly a senior figure of authority in the Trak Movement.'
'It's almost unbelievable,' Anakin thought with astonishment. 'She was their minister for Intelligence for Force's sake. You'd think that they vetted and investigated her past before giving her the role.'
'Their childhood friendship together was not a happy accident of circumstance.'
Ahsoka's thoughts pushed in from Anakin's bond into the mental conversation.
'What do you mean, Snips?'
'Let's just say I had to go on an extensive mindwalk in her head to get what I needed to settle her spirit and mind for the meeting with Dooku.'
Anakin's worry was clear in the shared mental landscape, 'How did that go?'
'As well as can be expected, Dooku is not getting on his sloop to personally intervene at least. Though I'm sure he's soon going to be contacting his master asking about any Republic special operation launched in response to Zygerria's actions. At which point, Palpatine may enlighten him, though the chances are more likely that he's going to deny knowledge of such a thing on the Republic side. Another broadside against his apprentice as a test of his worthiness to remain Sith.
Anyway, your original question. I think Ralenn's introduction into the life of a young heir presumptive Miraj Scintel was no accident. It was planned.'
'By the Trak?' Obi-Wan thought.
'Their paths through life might have diverged at any point, during schooling, post-school, governance apprenticeships, yet their lives remained in perpetual lockstep.'
'Could it not just be a matter of nepotism at the highest levels? Their friendship encouraging Ralenn to find ways to remain close?'
'That was the case, yes, but there's more to it than that. Ralenn's family is from a traditionally noble line that traces its roots back to a time before even the Ruusan Reformation. They were powerful and influential all through the centuries, they supported the monarchy and the 'traditional slavery' faction all the way through the recent civil war, 120 odd years ago. The war nevertheless devastated the Ralenn dynastic family, until only one branch of the family survived. For a time, there was only one male survivor, a handful of slaves and a giant mansion.'
Obi-Wan nodded in understanding in the mindscape, 'It's here you think that the family secretly turned traitor to the Zygerrian Empire.'
'I mean it makes sense. The single survivor was but a young teenager at the time, according to the family history that Scintel knows. You can just imagine how devastated someone so young must feel, having lost his entire close and extended family in a war. The weight of dynastic responsibility on his small shoulders. The perfect time to be molded and directed, to turn that resentment of loss against something.'
'And from that point on, the Ralenn dynasty became Trak, turning its influence and power to the abolitionist cause,' Anakin had to admit, the pieces fit. 'The question is now, what do we do? If anything?'
'We're definitely not calling off, HK-47,' Ahsoka thought with finality. 'The Trak are not our enemies at the end of the day. HK's work will hasten the downfall of Zygerria's slavery based empire as it exists now, something that they also want.'
'Perhaps, but we must not think that a future Zygerria led by the Trak would be any better,' Obi-Wan warned.
'They wouldn't have slavery,' Anakin couldn't help the waspish response.
'Yes, Anakin. The question we must ask then, will anything the Trak do in the next week cause our own mission to be jeopardized?'
'That's entirely possible,' Ahsoka admitted. 'But we must remember they're not exactly a standing 'army', they're an insurgent/resistance movement that must work in the shadows by nature. Right now, they have to lay low. The monarchy is going to mobilize many eyes and ears to look for them, Koltal and his security ministry is going to be hunting. They can't afford any slip-ups that could compromise everything they've built for nearly a century.'
'Perhaps there's a way…' Anakin thought, trailing off slightly. 'What if HK could track down and make contact with the Trak, could they coordinate efforts?'
'HK is not exactly a team player at the best of times, Skyguy. He can do it, but it's not exactly in his nature.'
'We must also ask ourselves what the Trak's actual goals are," Obi-Wan cautioned. 'Yes, its to end slavery, they clearly are not above bombing and assassination of high ranking officials and the queen was a primary target. However, HK is going to attack the fabric of civilization on this planet; power, transportation and communication. That is not something the Trak will support.'
'HK does his best work when he's in the shadows, unseen. It's best that he remains unknown to any of the locals,' Ahsoka pointed out.
They all felt a general consensus of agreement on that.
'Oh, the actual reason I jumped into this conversation. It was reported to Scintel an hour ago that our transport ships have arrived in the system. They'll refuel and head to Kadavo, pick up our purchase and return. We'll have just under three days to kill before we make payment and leave with our rescued kirosians and other slaves.'
'Then a long journey back home through hutt space,' Anakin's troubled mood and worry was bleeding everywhere over the shared mental space.
'Still no luck in reaching her, Skyguy?'
'No, mental doors are shut firmly. I sometimes really wish you hadn't taught her that, Snips.'
'You know the reason why, Anakin. She's not relented for me either.'
'What does your prescience say, Ahsoka?' Obi-Wan asked.
'No real need for prescience, we're all going back to Coruscant.'
'Naturally, the Council will want a full session debriefing for the Zygerrian affair, not to mention the CIS fleet roaming around our side of the Hydian. I've been looking at the Holonet feeds that I could access, as has R2. No reports of any attacks have been made public. So your prescience beyond is clouded by the Shroud… frustrating.'
'Yes, the instant I regain access to Fulcrum, I'll mobilize assets on Coruscant to begin tracking Padme down, and arrange for a conventional conversation. Find out why she's been so insistent on privacy for so long. This is clearly not just a simple conversation with an old handmaiden.'
'This is not a common thing for her, to close the bonds?'
Anakin shook his head mentally, 'No, not for this long and usually we make time for a quick mental chat every day.'
Obi-Wan's mouth twitched and his eyes twinkled, 'A quick chat only?'
Anakin endured the teasing with a flat stare, 'Master… really?'
'Oh come now, Anakin, one must find humor whenever you can.'
Ahsoka mentally pinged them both, the equivalent of a finger flick against the back of the head. 'Now now boys. We all know Padme, we know the trend of events that gravitate toward her. If she is cutting us off to this extent, knowing that it would worry us in the process, then this is something big. She's not planning a trivial surprise birthday party. We must pick up and follow her trail as soon as possible, because she's going to get in over her head and we have to be there for her when that happens.'
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