Kren'za stood stoically as he processed what Master Windu had just told him. On the one hand, he was feeling proud that he was finally being assigned a Padawan learner. On the other, he was uncertain about the pairing. The feeling was beyond mutual for the Padawan in question. In fact, she was quite livid about it and made no attempt to hide her disdain.

Padawan Wurra'idan'ithrendi, the young Chiss girl of about seventeen, all but shouted in protest. She hadn't been told she was being given a new master when she was called to the Council chamber. She had assumed she would be acting simply as an assistant, as the go-between for the Council and their guests, but when they made their pronouncement, she couldn't restrain herself. "You can't be serious!" she said, "Him? What does he know about training a Padawan in wartime?"

It was a valid question in Kren'za's opinion, and the answer was of course, nothing at all. However, he didn't believe it was relevant to the situation. After all, what business did a kid her age have in an active warzone? Surely, the Council wasn't expecting him to deploy with the army after this assignment, did they? Not with…clones. The word alone made his mouth taste like bile. No, he asserted internally, I will train my Padawan here on Coruscant as is proper. He was so deep in thought that he almost missed the Council's response to the teen's tirade.

"That is precisely why we assigned you to him, Padawan Raidani," Master Mundi stated, "Both of your previous masters have fallen in battle against the Separatists; that takes a toll on a young mind. Surely you understand the dangers of continually reliving their fates with each new master. It's not healthy…"

"My previous masters," Raidani said through clenched teeth, on the verge of tears, "gave their lives protecting the innocent. They died honorably and at peace with their choices. I would gladly relive through it again and again for a thousand lifetimes, and I won't let anyone reduce those sacrifices into meaningless attempts at guilting the survivors!"

"Dishonoring their actions, our intent, this was not," Yoda said in a placating tone, "Only wish to mitigate harm caused by war, we do. Bring stability to your training, hmm?"

"I don't need to be coddled!"

The masters regarded each other before offering a look of sympathy to Kren'za. They appeared worried about his feelings being hurt by this child, but they needn't have concerned themselves with such frivolities. His own master had been diligent in Kren'za's training, particularly in the first tenant of the Jedi Code: There is no emotion, only peace. He remained standing tall and showing no indication whatsoever that he was affected in the least.

"Padawan Raidani," Windu's commanding voice forced the room to silence, "the Council has made its decision. It is best for you to step away from the war and focus on strengthening yourself in the Force. Knight Zadun has shown great discipline in adhering to the Code, making him an ideal teacher. There will be no further debate about it. Now, you are dismissed, Padawan. You may wait outside the Council chamber while we conclude our business with your master."

The girl was poised to argue more, but wisdom quickly triumphed over her defiance. She huffed out a short, irritated breath before bowing deeply at the waist and swiftly exiting the chamber. She didn't Kren'za so much as a sideways as the doors closed behind her. A silence stretched into eternity in the Padawan's departure. Master Windu cast his eyes across the present Councilpersons briefly then came to rest upon Kren'za.

"We apologize for Raidani's poor conduct," he said, his voice remaining calm and emotionally detached, "Normally, we would have considered her experience as an equivalent to facing the Jedi Trials and awarded her knighthood, but as you witnessed, she is not yet ready. We knew she would not be happy, but we could not have predicted such an…animated response."

"Forgive the Padawan, we all should," Yoda advised, including Kren'za in the declaration, "Too much war in such a short time, hard it is, on a young mind, harder still to watch her masters perish before her eyes. Many scars does that one carry. Great patience it will take to heal her."

Kren'za nodded sagely. "Of course, masters," he said, "I will do my best to undo the mistakes of her previous mentors."

Master Kenobi raised an eyebrow and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Oh?" he tested, "And what led you to the conclusion that the 'mistakes' were the fault of her masters'?"

Kren'za began to speak but was swiftly interrupted. "Consider your words carefully," Master Mundi cautioned, "Remember: you do not have all the facts, so do not be so quick to judge the actions of those with more experience than you."

The Pau'an took a moment to ponder this then opted to acquiesce to the Council's wisdom. He chose to withhold his admittedly unfair opinion of dead Jedi. "Then," he said, "I shall do my best to guide Raidani's path to healing and peace within herself."

Each Councilperson gave a nod of approval as all eyes turned back to Windu. "With that out of the way," the Grand Master said, "What we are about to discuss is of the utmost secrecy. Do you understand?" Windu waited for the Pau'an to acknowledge before continuing: "Very well then. Kren'za, are you familiar with the Surik Effect?"

"I believe so," Kren'za said carefully.

He folded his arms inside his robes and closed his eyes in thought. He recalled his studies, picking through specific subjects his master had insisted he learned. The name "Surik" had come up numerous times alongside that of Darth Revan, an ancient Jedi who had fallen to the Dark Side of the Force after participating in the Mandalorian Wars against the Council's wishes and eventually initiated the Jedi Civil War. While Revan was indeed quite famous, the Jedi Knight known as Meetra Surik was more of a legendary figure than a historical one despite supposedly being one of Revan's peers. This was because tales of her exploits were extremely fantastical, even by Jedi standards. Even so, the phenomenon known as "The Surik Effect" had been fascinating scholars for millennia.

It was a theoretical thought experiment that put forth the question of whether or not it was possible to awaken latent Force sensitivity within those who otherwise could not feel it. No claims had ever been proven, but it was allegedly believed by the High Council of that era that Surik had created some sort of Force wound within her—or in some records, was a Force wound herself—after a traumatic event in orbit around Malachor V near the end of the Mandalorian Wars. According to legend, Surik believed the Council had severed her connection to the Force shortly before exiling her from the Order, though it was later determined that she had unintentionally done it to herself. She is said to have regained her connection, and as she did so, many people were strongly drawn to her. The longer they were in her presence, the more they were able to feel and use the Force themselves. This caused great distress with the Council, but what bothered them more than that was that Surik seemed to have been feeding on the Force as it flowed through her newly awakened allies, making her stronger and thus a danger to the Force itself. Little else was known about the fate of Meetra Surik to the point that very few living Jedi even believed that she had truly existed, Kren'za among them. Legends said that she had departed for the Unknown Regions of space in pursuit of Revan, but all surviving records of both Jedi were either incomplete or overly embellished with feats bordering on the impossible even for the most seasoned of Jedi.

All in all, Kren'za Zadun knew about as much about the subject as any other Jedi who spent the time to learn the Order's history regardless of how unlikely many of the exploits may have been. He was curious, however, what any of that had to do with this upcoming mission. He doubted that the Council taken a sudden interest in the effectively folkloric Surik, and there was nothing to suggest a connection between her and this new planet. He decided to keep his response simple.

"That is to say," he clarified, "I am familiar with the legend. It's not my best-studied subject, but I have read as much about it as my master considered relevant to my training."

"Do you think," Kenobi questioned, "you would know enough to recognize it in another?"

Kren'za looked at the bearded human quizzically. He had not been expecting such an odd inquiry from any of the most powerful Jedi in the Order. "Possibly," he answered with caution, "but not with any absolute certainty. The Surik Effect has been widely accepted as a cautionary mythology at best and an over-embellishment of an ancient Jedi's abilities at worst."

"Correct, you are," Yoda agreed, "but crafted from truth, most myths are. That is why many who believe, there are."

"We're not looking to prove the legend true," Kenobi said, "but to use it as a steppingstone to unravel the truth behind a more recent phenomenon to determine if it and its host are a danger, imminent or distant, to us and the citizens of the Republic."

The Pau'an scowled in thought, pressing the knuckle of his index finger against the groove between his chin and lower lip. "Is this the reason," he asked, "for assigning Raidani as my Padawan?"

"No," Yoda denied quickly, "no. Nothing to do with Raidani, this has."

"However," Master Billaba spoke up, "this is the reason you were selected for this mission."

"We won't overload you with the details," Windu said, "but we needed someone familiar with the Surik Effect who had no connection with the person of interest in order to confirm or deny our suspicions. We only want you to observe and report. Do not give any indication that you are doing this as we need as accurate an account as you can give us."

"You…" Kren'za hesitated, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the implication, "want me to spy on a fellow Jedi? Forgive me, my masters, but that feels incredibly dishonest."

"Even if," Mundi challenged, "the safety of the Order and civilians depended on it?"

That gave Kren'za pause. He deeply believed in the integrity of the Council and the Jedi Order as a whole, and he felt it was every Jedi's responsibility to maintain that integrity. His inner conflict quickly evaporated as he stood tall and faced the Council with conviction. "I accept this task," he said, "Who will I be observing?"

"Is it not obvious by now?" Mundi asked, "According to legend, Meetra Surik was an influential leader, so it would stand to reason that we would put the subject of interest in a position to lead."

So, they wanted him to spy on General Raadii. Kren'za truly didn't know much about her, but as he recounted the events of the previous meeting, the Council's actions started to make sense. He thought about the seemingly inconsequential interaction between Raadii and Kenla when the latter had become incensed by the Council's presumptions. In all the years that Kren'za had known them, he had never seen Kenla reined in so easily during one of their impassioned speeches, yet Raadii was able to do just that. Kren'za didn't know what she said to them, but his curiosity was piqued.

"I understand," he said, bowing to them before turning to leave.

"Kren'za," Windu called after him, "tell no one of this for the time being…not even your apprentice."

Kren'za gave a nod of acknowledgement and left.

His new Padawan was waiting impatiently outside the chamber doors. Her arms were crossed and her eyes seemed focused on her feet as she paced the floor back and forth. Kren'za didn't have any particular feeling, good or bad, about this arrangement, but he believed deep down that what he had to teach the young Chiss would benefit her far greater than anything she had "learned" on the battlefield. He was confident enough that the two of them would even bond quickly despite the teenager's obvious displeasure. He decided a good place to start would be a bit of legwork down in the Jedi Archives.

"Come along, Raidani," he said as he walked by her, "there is work to be done."

"It's 'Rai,'" the Padawan grumbled in annoyance.

"Pardon?"

"My name. It's just 'Rai.' I don't like being called by my full core name. I guess if we're going to be stuck with each other, may as well tell you now."

"What is wrong with 'Raidani.'?"

"What is wrong with your hearing? I don't like being called that, and I don't owe you or anyone else more of an explanation than that."

Kren'za wasn't exactly sure what he had done wrong, but he decided to move on from the subject of Rai's name to placate her sensibilities. He'd bring it up again in the future once his apprentice has had time to acclimate. Kren'za was patient. He could wait.

Kenla nursed a cup of caf as they dug through the numerous files the Jedi Archive had on Galactic Law. It proved to be a more frustrating task than anticipated as the Order's scholars were well-known for hoarding everything regardless of relevance to modern times. For instance, there were over five thousand entries for joining the Galactic Republic alone, and almost ninety-five percent of them were so far outdated as to predate the Republic's official formation as a recognized government. Straight up annexing planet had around ten times as many. What made things worse was the organization of the files, which was no organization at all.

All the data discs were categorized by name, but they were by no means listed in order of the Aurebesh. For example, all files that began with the letter Auresh were on one shelf, but if one needed information on the planet "Alderaan" versus "Alderaanian cuisine," they weren't likely to be near each other as the names would suggest. If Kenla wanted to find something from a specific date, they would have to gather every file from the desired subject and skim through all of them to get the most accurate and up-to-date information. It probably would have been easier if Kaytee-Eleven was helping, but Kenla had sent the little droid off for some overdue maintenance and a few upgrades for the upcoming mission.

"You'd think we'd be more organized than this," Kenla muttered under their breath, "Seriously, who's responsible for categorizing all our files?"

"That," said a nearby voice, "would be the Keeper of First Knowledge."

Kenla looked up to see an elderly Cosian sitting at the terminal across from them. "Master Sinube," they greeted him, "Forgive me, I did not see you there."

Jedi Master Tera Sinube laughed heartily. "No apology needed, young one," he said, "it is not the nature of the young to take notice of the elderly. In fact, it is I who should ask forgiveness for disturbing your research. However, if you would suffer the curiosity of an old man, may I ask what troubles you, young Kenla?"

"I'm not sure how much I am at liberty to tell," Kenla answered apologetically.

"Ah, a clandestine mission from the Council, is it?" Sinube deduced, "How exciting! I am certain we can find a solution to your problem without compromising any trust or confidence in you. What do you say?"

"Well, I could use an extra set of eyes, especially experienced ones."

Kenla explained to Sinube the task that Naira had given them and the trouble they were having due to the current filing system. For his part, Sinube listened patiently, expressing interest as well as confusion at this conundrum. As they spoke, the two of them began going over the records concerning Galactic Law.

"Master Sinube," Kenla said conversationally, "you said earlier that it is the Keeper of First Knowledge who is responsible for tending to the catalogues?"

"Did I?" Sinube answered with a sly chuckle, "Oh, I am just joking. Yes, it is. More specifically, it is their duty to delegate other members of the Council of First Knowledge. Every couple of decades they are supposed to review the archives and rearrange the files for modern efficiency. Typically, they rotate older data to the backlogs and reorganize the more relevant records for better research."

"Then why are they in such disarray?"

"Disarray?" there was a slight excitement to Sinube's tone that belied any possibility of ignorance, "Now, what makes you say that?"

The question took Kenla off guard. They were certain they had both already agreed that the archives weren't exactly up to par. Hadn't they?

"W-well," they hesitated, "Master Idariel has always seemed so organized and focused on her duties, and…and yet…and…"

"And yet," Sinube assisted, "the archives are not arranged in cohesive, relevant categories for easy research?"

"Well, yes…but if you already knew that's what I meant, why the runaround?"

"Because I didn't know," Sinube chuckled in amusement, "I only knew you were having trouble with your investigation. I'm used to the current state of the catalogues, and you're not. You merely confirmed my hunch." He smiled as understanding crossed Kenla's face. "I believe," he said, pulling a stack of data discs from the shelf, "that is what the courts call 'cross-examining.'"

"Actually, that's called 'leading the witness,' but let's not be anal about it. So, why are the archives like this? It can't all be Master Idariel's fault, can it? I mean, the rest of the Council shouldn't have to be told directly to man their duties; they can take some initiative. On top of that, this kind of clutter would have taken at least a couple hundred years to get this bad."

Sinube shrugged noncommittally and beckoned Kenla back to the terminals to read the gathered discs.

The elder Jedi proved to be a greater help than Kenla could have hoped. He was roughly four centuries old, and as he had told them, he was quite accustomed to the chaotic layout of the library. He helped Kenla find the exact files they were looking for as well as a few files on the history of the Archives themselves. Kenla was beyond grateful for the assistance, but something still troubled them. The success of the Council's mission would rely heavily on clear, concise, and accurate information gathered within the allotted window of time. If Kenla's theory was correct, then the archival disorganization would have been common knowledge to the current Council as well as their predecessors going back however many years since the mess first became a problem. Not only was Kenla not warned of this, but even Master Sinube seemed reluctant to delve into it. They pushed it to the back of their mind as they focused on their primary task.

Kenla studied the information they found, copying the most important content to their datapad for posterity. As they finished their research, Sinube passed them one more data disc. Kenla inspected it only to find it wasn't labeled.

"Master?" they questioned, "What's this?"

"Personnel file," Sinube answered casually, "I have a feeling it will benefit your investigation, whatever that may be."

He gave Kenla a conspiratorial wink as he made his way to a group of younglings that had just entered the library. "Come along, young ones," he said, "time for meditation."

Kenla observed briefly as the group departed the archives. They then looked curiously at the disc Sinube had given them, trying hard to decipher the old Jedi's intention behind it. Jedi personnel files were fully open to the public, so pretty much anyone could access them if they could get through the hectic filing system. Sinube could have just suggested Kenla go through the files and left them to search on their own, but he hadn't. Whatever information was on this disc must have been too important to allow such time to be wasted.

Kenla checked their chrono. Damn. They hadn't realized how long they had been in here. Their meeting with the Council was in a few minutes, and they still needed to catch up with Kren'za about his task from Naira. They tucked the disc into a pouch and made their way out of the library. As fortune would have it, Kren'za happened to be walking in at the same time, and he had the young Chiss Padawan alongside him. That was interesting.

"Kren'za!" Kenla called out, waving a hand to get his attention, "Glad I ran into you. Naira wanted me to pass along a message. She wanted you to see if the Archive backlogs had any old information regarding the coordinates to our wayward planet."

Kren'za stared down at Kenla as though they had spoken to him in an unknown language. "Why would I do that?" he asked, his tone a mixture of confusion and contention, "I am not one of her soldiers."

"Uh…" Kenla was taken aback, "…because—"

"Because," the Chiss interrupted, "the Council put General Raadii in charge of the mission. Remember, Master?"

Kenla suddenly forgot about the mission for a moment as they looked at Kren'za with surprise and more than a little skepticism. "Master?" they echoed.

"Yes," Kren'za answered in his usual, neutral tone, "this is my Padawan, Wurra'idan'ithrendi."

He pronounced the difficult Chiss name perfectly judging by the brief look of shock on the girl's face. It was quickly replaced with annoyed indifference as she gave Kenla a slight bow. "You can call me 'Rai,' Master Kenla."

Kenla gave her a slight nod. "So," they said, looking back at Kren'za, "that's what your secret meeting was all about? Assigning you an apprentice?"

"Partially," the Pau'an nodded, "but I cannot really discuss that." He sighed with mild annoyance and asked: "What is it exactly Raadii expects me to find?"

"Well," Kenla responded, ignoring Kren'za's tone, "she thinks there may be some historical data regarding the 'new planet' outside of the primary records, like a backup, perhaps, something the suspect wouldn't have known about or thought to check. The worm-thing shouldn't have affected those files. You know the library better than us, so maybe you've actually read something about the planet without even realizing it."

Kren'za shrugged. "Easy enough to check," he said, "Come, Padawan."

Kenla watched with some amusement. They expected Kren'za to have the same trouble that they had navigating the Archives, to their amazement, however, the tall man only went to two different aisle, pulled about ten discs from each, and handed them to Rai. He gave his new apprentice some instructions before parting ways with her and moving to another section.

"Oh, come on," Kenla mumbled to themself, "that's just unfair."

The shook their head in defeat and headed out for their meeting.

Back in the Council Chamber, Kenla found the same five masters waiting for them. There was a major difference, however. Rather than being seated adjacent to each other, the five present masters were in their regularly assigned seating, and all the "empty" seats were occupied by the holographic images of their holders. This didn't really surprise Kenla as, despite what they told Naira, they did have a general idea of what the Council wanted to discuss with them. They gave a respectful bow and waited for the Council to begin.

"We understand you are on a limited time clock," Master Windu said without preamble, "so we'll skip the formalities of this meeting. Knight Kenla, you are aware of why we selected you for this mission with General Raadii, correct?"

"More or less," Kenla answered, only slightly miffed, "but my legal expertise can only go so far with what little information you've given me."

"We apologize for the vagueness of your task," Master Eeth Koth's hologram said, "but it is, unfortunately, necessary to avoid biasing your investigation. Nevertheless, we are confident in your ability to get the job done."

"I've worked with less, I suppose. Even so, it would be helpful to know exactly what it is you expect me to accomplish."

"We mentioned earlier," Kenobi recapped, "that we had suspects in mind, though we were remiss in regard to who. You've already correctly pointed out that what evidence we have acquired isn't enough to take action. The Council is unanimous in our suspicions, but we are hoping you would be able to attain more solid proof of our conclusions on this mission."

"A confession would be ideal," Master Oppo Rancisis added, "but we are aware of how unlikely that would be."

Kenla raised a brow and crossed their arms. They knew well enough that dealing with the Jedi High Council was an extreme exercise in patience, and they would have to be exceptionally lucky to get any semblance of a straight answer to anything. They braced themself, hoping for the best but prepared for the worst.

"Unlikely?" they repeated, "Try 'impossible.' Just attempting to get a confession requires me to know who the suspects are, information that is being deliberately withheld."

"We understand your frustration," Windu assured, "but we believe that making our suspicions known will alert the individual of interest. However, we can tell you that one or more of our suspects will be on your journey to the unknown planet."

Confusion spread across Kenla's face. What exactly did they mean by that? Was the entire investigation team under suspicion? They tried to mentally evaluate everyone they knew would be going—wondering at the same time if there would be anyone they didn't know—and found that everyone had means, motive, opportunity, or all of the above. Everyone, that is, except Kenla who couldn't even navigate the main library without assistance. Did the Council even know that?

"Masters," they said cautiously. "am I to understand that I'm to hold everyone under suspicion? Including the actual investigation team?"

"Yes," Master Mundi confirmed, his tone implying surprise that Kenla even asked, "it is the only way to avoid spooking the actual culprit."

Kenla didn't know how to process that. The only conclusion they could come up with that held any reasonable logic was that the Council didn't trust anyone with this vital information, not even those assigned to investigate. Despite the plausibility, it still didn't make sense. Why send people you don't trust? Why not do the job themselves? As they pondered this conundrum, Kenla remembered the disc Master Sinube had passed to them; maybe they would get the answers from that.

"I understand," they said placably, "If there's nothing else, Masters, I should get to work."

Master Windu looked around the room as each Councilperson gave a nod of assent. "Very well," he said, "This meeting of the Council is adjourned. May the Force be with you, Kenla."

Kenla dipped their head and departed the chamber. Once outside, they pulled out their comlink. "Kaytee-Eleven," they spoke quietly, "Come in, Kaytee, it's Kenla. Is your maintenance complete?"

A series of confirmation beeps and whistles answered them.

"Good. Return to my room as swiftly as possible. I am in need of your assistance."

The little droid bwooped an affirmative, and the line disconnected. Kenla then made their way to their private chambers within the Jedi Temple. They had some time before Kaytee would arrive, so they activated the terminal on their desk and began their research. They avoided accessing the file disc, fearing it may contain the information the Council vehemently refused to share. It would be safer to wait for Kaytee so that no one outside Kenla's room would be alerted to their access of the file or trace it back to them. Instead, they focused on the task given them by Naira as they waited. It was, after all, just as vital as whatever the Council was hiding.

After about an hour of studying, Kaytee-Eleven entered the room. Kenla ushered the little droid over quickly, inserted the disc into her data drive, and instructed her to open the file with all firewalls up. Kaytee did as she was told, but gave a low, worried whistle after only a few seconds.

"What do you mean you can't read it?" Kenla asked in frustration.

Kaytee booped and whirred in response.

"Encrypted? But it's just a personnel file…it should be open to everyone. Can you bypass it?"

The droid's dome twisted in the negative as she explained in what Kenla recognized as mild annoyance.

"That doesn't make any sense! Why would Master Sinube give me a disc I can't even read? Unless…unless he knew I had access to a master tech!"

Kaytee gave a curious trill.

"Yes, exactly! Can you get him on the comm? No, wait…connect me to Naira. She's his commanding officer, after all."

An affirmative whistle came from the droid as she worked. A moment later, Naira's holographic image appeared in the room.

"Raadii here," the Togruta greeted over a cacophony of noise in the background.

"Naira, it's Kenla. I need a favor."

"One moment, Kenla; let me step outside," Naira's image vanished for a few seconds and reappeared from a quieter area, "Alright, what can I do for you?"

"I need to borrow your sergeant."

Naira raised a brow. "Casino?" she asked, "May I inquire for what purpose?"

"I came across a disc in the Archives as part of my research," Kenla explained, careful not to implicate the old Cosian, "but it's heavily encrypted. I don't have the skill to break the code, and Kaytee is somehow being actively blocked from even trying. That shouldn't even be possible given that she runs on an isolated system."

Naira scowled and pressed her fist to her chin. "That's odd," she said, "Encrypted files shouldn't even be stored in the public archive. I wonder what it was doing in the main library…do you know what's supposed to be on it?"

"That's the baffling part. It's only a personnel file, which shouldn't be encrypted at all. It's public information, yet someone felt the need to lock it. Since it's not labeled, I have no way of knowing who it's about, so I can't even try to look them up elsewhere."

"I'm assuming this has something to do with your private meeting with the Council?"

"Well…yes…but it's also connected to our mission, I assure you. I believe that whatever is on the disc will be imperative to discovering who is behind the erasure. Since the Council is reluctant to tell us who any of their suspects are, I figured this may have the answer."

"Hmm, that is very disturbing," Naira pondered, "almost feels like they don't trust anyone outside the Council."

"I was literally thinking the same thing before I called you. Nothing else makes logical sense at the moment, so that's the theory I'm going on for now."

"It's not like they're giving us much reason to think otherwise. That being said, I'll send Casino your way immediately. Where are you?"

"West Dormitory of the Temple. I'll be waiting right outside my room."

Naira nodded her acknowledgement and cut the connection. Kenla took a few minutes to gather Kaytee and a blank datapad to prepare for the sergeant's arrival. They synced the device to Kaytee's isolated system and calibrated it to be protected by the droid's firewall. Once they were satisfied, they stepped outside to wait.

It was a good fifteen minutes before Kenla saw the clone trooper approaching. He came to attention before them as Kenla gave a slight bow.

"You wanted to see me, Mx?" Casino asked.

"Yes, Sergeant," Kenla confirmed, "thank you for coming. I've got a disc that needs decrypting. It's well beyond my already limited skills, and Kaytee is somehow restricted." They handed the datapad to Casino and continued: "The disc is already in Kaytee's drive, and this pad is connected to her private system—a little precaution to avoid any unwanted attention in case the file is being monitored."

"Good call," Casino said, taking the datapad, "I'll see what I can do, but I find it suspicious that the droid is locked out of her own system."

"Yeah, me, too. I had sent her for maintenance after our first meeting with the Council, but I can't imagine that anyone would tamper with her internal operations without informing me."

"Hmm…okay, give me a few minutes with the file, then I'll check your friend."

"I'd appreciate that, thanks."

Casino tapped away at the datapad for several minutes, his face a mask of concentration. Kenla tried not to distract him as they paced the floor just out of the clone's periphery. They actually found it quite agonizing to not be doing anything to help. Kaytee was their droid; they should have been able to troubleshoot her systems and isolate the problem themself. Not that they didn't knew nothing about maintaining an astromech droid, but technical knowhow was equivalent to the ownership of a home entertainment set up: they know enough to keep Kaytee functional, but they needed a trained professional for issues more complicated than a fritzed motivator. So, they paced until they were needed.

"Huh," Casino mused suddenly, "now that's interesting. Mx, I don't think the problem is that your droid is being blocked. I think there's a fail-safe system built into the disc's encryption."

"What does that mean?" Kenla asked.

"It means that whoever locked the file also embedded a program that prevents it from being opened on a closed system, and not just Kaytee's. You could have tried any closed, protected system, and you wouldn't have been able to crack it."

"But why would anyone do that?"

Casino raised a brow at them. "You've already answered that question," he said, "not directly, of course, but I think it's safe to assume that someone is indeed monitoring access to this file."

"Well, damn. Can you remove the code?"

"No. It's fully merged with the encryption. Now, that's not to say I can't do anything at all, of course. I can install a redundancy protocol worm into Kaytee's mainframe. It's similar to the one the Council showed us, but it's not as harmful to your friend."

Kenla was hesitant to agree to this, but they couldn't think of any alternatives. "Okay," they said cautiously, "what does it do?"

"It will counteract the code in the encryption, making it 'think' it's in an open system by creating a facsimile of a virtual private network. Since you'd actually still be on a closed system, it won't trigger any alarms for whomever may be watching. This won't be as sophisticated as the Archive worm, and it will self-terminate after about an hour."

"Any side effects I should be worried about?"

"There's a slight chance Kaytee might pick up a few, uh…interesting quirks, even after the worm is terminated. However, a routine memory wipe should clear that up without issue."

"Should?"

Casino shrugged nonchalantly. "This is all hypothetical," he explained, "Unfortunately, there is no known record of a droid carrying an RPW in their mainframe for any length of time to base actual theories on."

Kenla thought about it some more and eventually concluded that there wasn't any other viable option. They needed whatever information was on that disc. They would make it up to Kaytee later. "Alright, Sergeant," they said with a nod, "do it."

Kaytee gave a mournful coo as her singular, rotating optic lens gazed at Kenla like a forlorn pet. Kenla reassured her that everything would be fine as Casino got to work. It took him about ten minutes to program and install the worm into Kaytee's system and a couple minutes more to verify that it was functioning properly before attempting to break the encryption. It worked better than even he assumed it would. He spent the next several minutes untangling the coding of the encryption, finding it unremarkably primitive on its own. It was no wonder someone needed the fail-safe in place.

"And done," he announced, passing the datapad back to Kenla, "Honestly, I'm a little disappointed by how easy it was. I thought you Jedi had better security."

"Really?" Kenla challenged as they opened the file, "Even after learning someone erased data right under the Council's nose despite their supposed surveillance?"

"Fair point," Casino chuckled, "Will there be anything else?"

"No, Sergeant," Kenla gave a bow, "Thank you for your assistance."

Casino saluted respectfully and turned to leave. Kenla returned their attention to the datapad and almost froze with shock. They could not believe what was on this disc. It couldn't be accurate! But what if it is? Kenla thought, I can't keep this from Naira…she must know. They stopped short of running after the departing trooper, remembering something they had overheard Naira say when they had parted company hours earlier. The general and her troops were supposed to be on shore leave, and she hadn't exactly been permitted to enjoy it.

"I suppose this could wait until morning," Kenla rationed to Kaytee, "No sense spoiling her only day to relax, right?"

Kaytee gave an encouraging yet unconfident woo, her dome rotating a full three-hundred and sixty degrees.

"Yes," Kenla agreed, "first thing in the morning. Until then, keep digging into the file. The more we know, the easier it will be to discover the truth behind all the veils."

As they returned to their room, Kenla looked down at the image on the datapad with looming dread. They focused hard on the accompanying words: "Jedi Master Lolani Idariel; Under Investigation for Suspicion of Treason."